#shout out to every person in the notes who keeps bringing her up

[conspiracyofcuttlefish]

May I introduce the population to the anime Moribito

Grizzled halberd-wielding female mercenary who ends up in the guardianship of a Prince possessed by a god. If they find him, they'll put him to death, so she has to keep him hidden.

i understand why the ‘grizzled loner who slowly melts & improves their outlook on life when forced to take care of a kid’ trope is a male exclusive role, bc the optics of a grizzled loner woman healing by becoming a mother are maybe not so good, but every time i think abt a hypothetical female version of that trope i black out instantly. could we maybe just do it one time and all agree to be cool about it

[lambilegs]

your best friends older sister!sevika fanfic had me gnawing at the bars of my enclosure. love the way you write her as a mean teasing flirt ☺️ may i suggest roommate!sevika who does everything she can to get reader worked up such as bringing home girls to purposefully fuck them loud as fuck to make reader jealous 🙂‍↕️ hehe

roommate!sevika headcanons

note to anon: OMGGGG thank you so much bae!! and right? I feel like if she found someone who got on her nerves, she'd enjoy being the rudest flirt alive, hehe. ALSO, YES, I LOVE THIS IDEA SOOOO MUCH. took me a while to write it out, but I hope you enjoy!! <33 contains: sfw and nsfw content (minors + ageless blogs dni), reader receiving oral and strap, porn-watching, kinda voyeuristic (reader gets horny from sevika having sex with other girls), throat-grabbing, smoking, reader's body is referred to with the terms "pussy," "g-spot" and "clit"

roommate!sevika who doesn't really bother talking to you at first, just keeping to herself. she's not a fan of sharing her living space with people, but money's tight, and this is what she can afford right now. she's not interested in friendship, or some sort of everlasting bond to form between the two of you. she just wants to live in amicable peace, and have her space to herself.

and so, the two of you barely talk. you try, at first, but it becomes clear three days in that she's utterly uninterested. which, you can't lie, is a pretty huge disappointment, considering that the prospect of living with an incredibly hot and stoic butch was one that had you thrilled initially. but, unfortunately, she seems anything but truly interested in any sort of connection with you.

roommate!sevika who remains in her bedroom most of the time, working on one contraption or the other, or watching videos on her laptop.

or gaming. because, yes, she games, and she does try her best to keep quiet, she really does. but, the idiots she plays with have her occasionally shouting, cursing loudly as they cause her team to lose yet again.

every now and then, she'll hang out in the living room, watching TV, but that's usually reserved to when you're not home, or locked up in your own bedroom. when you come out to cook in the kitchen, or sit on the love seat so that you can fold laundry, she'll usually linger for a few minutes, carefully observing, before standing up to head back to her bedroom.

it's not like she hates you or anything. you're pretty okay -- nice to her and not sloppy and disgusting like some of the other roommates she's had before. you even share the food you cook with her, and have always been cooperative about splitting chores with her. so, in sevika's books, you're not a person who she's keen on disliking, and she actually feels pretty damn lucky for having found your ad.

roommate!sevika who does nothing to quell the sexual frustration you've had for months due to the serious dry spell that's been plaguing you. walls are thin, and you can hear the loud ass girl she's brought home, moaning and whining as sevika's bed frame rocks against the wall. every now and then, her noises are met with sevika's hushed grunts and filthy words of, "tell me, who's a good girl?"

you twist and turn in bed, rolling over to glare at your phone. it's 2:03AM -- how does she still have the energy to be fucking at this time? you're exhausted, irritated, and insanely horny from what you're hearing. because horribly enough, this girl doesn't sound like she's faking -- no, she's truly enjoying herself. sevika is just that good of a lay, it seems. and that piece of knowledge has your pussy beginning to dampen, soaking through your panties.

if you shut your eyes, and drift into the hazy world of dream land, you can pretend that it's you and her making those noises. that she's the one fucking you right now. god, just the thought of that notion has your clit aching.

but, it also has you feeling a strike of insecurity. because the truth is, that probably won't be you and sevika anytime soon. she doesn't even give you the time of day. you don't know what it is you've done to her, but she avoids you like the plague, never returning any of your offers of kindness or bonding. and it's beginning to sting really bad. if she can canoodle with a stranger (and, yeah, you're painfully aware it's a stranger, since her text said, "Hey. I met a girl at the bar tonight, is it okay if I bring her over?") well enough to have sex with her that very night, why can she barely spare you attention as her roommate?

the thought is a cold wash over your horniness, and all it leaves is a bitter taste on your tongue.

roommate!sevika who's giving you the most bewildered stare as you shake the soaked thong of the girl she brought home last night, yelling about how you're convinced that said girl stole one of your underwear after this one got ruined.

"how would you even know that?" sevika snickers, eyeing you in disbelief. "are you that anal?"

"my drawer was half open, sevika! and I never leave it like that because I'd knock into it on my way in otherwise!" you snap, your eyes wide and glossy with anger. sevika's honestly a bit unnerved by the sight -- she's never seen you this pissed, but jesus, she thought it'd take more than a singular, flimsy piece of fabric to get you to this state.

"it's just one pair," she deadpans. "I'm sorry serena -- or, selena, I don't know -- took it, but it's not that big of a big deal."

"maybe not for you, but it is for me! listen, I don't care if you don't know the names of the girls you bring here, or anything about them -- but, just make sure they're not a thieving dumbass, okay? is that enough for you?"

sevika's jaw shifts, irritation beginning to sizzle in her from the condescension layering your words. you're talking to her like she's a fucking child, tone taking on a faux sense of guidance.

"okay, listen, I'm sorry she took your underwear, okay? I'll buy you a new pair if you're that bent out of shape over it. but, you don't need to be such a piss baby about it."

your head flinches back, eyes sharpening in clear anger. sevika feels a twinge of guilt. she knows she fucked up, since ensuring the girl from last night didn't do anything out of line was her responsibility. but, your anger has her own defenses kicking in automatically, and she's equal measures embarrassed and angered at being spoken to this way.

"I have every right to be pissed if you're gonna be stupid about the people you bring in our apartment."

well, that manages to snap her out of it. "because I could just magically anticipate that she'd steal your shit? I get it, she did something shitty, but I couldn't have known that. I've got lots of skills, but that's not one of them."

you scoff, the noise loud and unabashed. "oh, trust me, you made a great display of your skills last night. not that you seem to fucking spare any of that attention to someone unless you're gonna get a good lay out of it."

sevika immediately freezes at that, her brain running into overdrive. your tone has shifted into something biting, but lowered with what seems like -- frustration? frustration not just at that girl, but at sevika herself. and if you're frustrated about sevika possessing an attentiveness that she spares only to certain people, then that must mean--

sevika snickers softly. oh, yeah, you've definitely given her an opening in this argument. "what, you jealous?"

immediately, you're spluttering, broken words and half-gasps flinging from your mouth, sentences barely strung together. it only heightens sevika's newfound delight in having found something to hold above your head.

"you are, aren't you? what, haven't had a good fuck lately? need me to get one of my boys to come over and take care of you?"

sevika can see the way you work your teeth behind your pursed lips, and it only causes her flame of amusement to burn brighter.

"first of all, I'm not fucking pitiful, okay? I can handle getting fucked. second of all, I'm not into guys, something you'd know if you even spoke to me for two fucking seconds."

sevika's eyes widen at that. this interaction definitely had her suspecting it, but to hear you confirm it only sends another wave of satisfaction, mingled with surprise, through her. so, you're gay and bitter over having no attention, and specifically not hers? you're making it too easy.

"so, what, you're into me?" she asks, her voice twisted with snark. "been wanting me this whole time? mad I'm not giving you attention?"

she knows it's risky to be goading her own roommate like this, flirting and teasing. but, she can't help it -- not when your mouth is finally shut and she knows she has something on you.

she stalks up to you slowly, using her height to her advantage as she dips her head down, staring at you with a piercing smirk. "well?"

your eyes are wide, blinking rapidly like a pretty little butterfly. they flicker down to her mouth, and sevika feels something stir in her gut at the sight. she's always been neutral about you, but there's something undeniably attractive about seeing you like this -- seething, wanting, in need of someone to take care of you. as her gaze roves over your features, she finds herself struck for the first time that you're, frankly, pretty good-looking.

but, then, you draw in a sharp breath, and sevika reels back in surprise when you hiss, "no."

she's left baffled as you whirl on your heel, stomping to your room, muttering out, "perverted jackass."

sevika chuckles at that. perverted jackass, huh?

roommate!sevika whose noises are so bothersome that you cover your ears, gritting your teeth at the rattling-headboard noises that are running through the apartment for the fifth fucking time in these past two weeks. how sevika manages to get this many girls in her bed is beyond your human capabilities. all you know is that it was never this often in the past. no, this -- this is fucking personal. you can feel it in the way she shoots you a haughty smirk the next morning, and how she encourages the people she's with to moan louder, move back faster. it's gotten to the point where you can even hear the fucking skin smacks.

it makes you utterly enraged. and impossibly soaked. but, for your own sense of justice and determination, you refuse to get off to the noises. in fact, everytime she continues her habit of asking you politely if she can bring someone over, you ensure to respond in as chipper a tone as possible. you don't want her thinking she's having an impact on you. you want to convey the self-image of being unbothered, unfazed and completely okay with every little dig she's attempting with you.

what makes you snap is when you're on your way to work one morning, and from where she's seated on the couch, lip bitten in frustration as she does a crossword puzzle like a fucking nerd, she says, "enjoyed the show last night? I can pick someone else up tonight. thought I'd ask in case you need to charge your vibrator in advance."

stay calm. stay calm. don't attack her. don't sit on her face.

"well," you drawl with a forced smile, "you'd like that, wouldn't you? so, your next girl can steal it for herself."

she immediately bursts into a loud round of laughter, her gap revealing itself unabashedly. your eyes linger on it, struck with a sudden bolt of fondness. it's one part of her that is unarguably adorable.

you turn away before she can catch you, heading to the kettle to pour the boiling water into your tumblr.

"wait, no," sevika calls out from the couch, eyes still fixed on the newspaper. "the counter."

your eyes curiously travel to the wooden surface, gulping in surprise when you see a fresh pot already made. you know sevika always drinks coffee before her shift at the mechanic's, but that's usually just a single cup. never an entire pot like this. "did you, uh, make this for me?"

"don't flatter yourself. just take some."

her voice is a grunt and no-nonsense, not allowing for her meaning to be minced whatsoever. she wants you taking the coffee, and that's that.

with a bitten smile, you pour it into your tumblr, the pleasant scent of it wafting through your nostrils. it's the brand you always use, the one you've offered to sevika before that she's never actually taken you up on. at least until now.

she's at least half-redeemed to you until she says, "just needed some energy after last night, you know? wait, what am I saying? you were listening, won't you?"

your skin stretches over your knuckles as you tightly grip the doorknob.

jackass.

roommate!sevika who you try to get back at by watching obscenely loud porn. sometimes, you touch yourself to it, while other times, you just let it play in the background while folding your laundry, or wiping the dust from your furniture. you know it's immature as fuck, and will probably never equate to the personal touch of her being the one to incite those noises when trying to piss you off. but, hey, if it keeps her up at night and pisses her off, you're more than content. and judging from the glares she silently shoots you in the morning, you can tell you're succeeding.

at least, until one day, she leans in from behind when you're making eggs, her mouth lowered to your ear, and mutters, "c'mon, you're easy on the eyes. can't be so hard to find someone that you resort to porn, right?"

your nostrils flare, nearly slamming down the pan on the stove. "oh, fuck off."

"don't you mean 'fuck me'?"

your mouth cracks into an almost-smile. it's one thing to wanna fuck sevika, it's a whole other thing to have your stomach tighten up from how funny she is. makes it all the harder to deal with your current predicament. "no, I mean 'fuck you,' actually -- thanks for helping with that clarification."

"anytime," she huffs in amusement, lightly smacking your shoulder, which sends you nearly tumbling from her strength.

you glare at her back as she leaves. god, it's a good back. you hate that she has a good back.

roommate!sevika who's almost... thankful for this situation? because paying more attention to you, being in your way more often, ends up revealing to her that she was, admittedly, a damn fool for not having taken notice of you earlier.

because you're smart. like, wicked smart. what she suspects is mostly out of spite, you've started leaning over her shoulder, your scent flooding her senses as you spoil the answers to her crossword puzzles. at first, she rolled her eyes, grumbling that she would've gotten it without your help. but, now, she anticipates your stupid antics before you can even think about disrupting her mood with it. that translates to her raising the newspaper to you right as you meet her in the kitchen, an action which you first met with a disapproving glare.

but, in a matter of days, you're sitting right next to her, a pencil in hand, the two of you debating over answers together and groaning in frustration whenever you get something wrong.

when you bump her arm, whining, "c'mon, I told you it was wrong!" she can feel her face heat up like some fucking teenager.

and when you roll your eyes when her answer ends up being the right on, it only eggs her on, the motion usually followed with her murmuring, "sorry, what was that again?"

whenever you two finish, she always says, "thanks for ruining it," to which you singsong, "anytime, sevika."

and she hates to admit it, but you're funny, too. there've been several times where she's actually been rendered silent from just how good a comeback of yours was, or where you said something that caught her so off guard she nearly laughed in a moment where she was just annoyed.

and fuck her, you're so fine. so goddamn fine.

a notion that seizes at her when you come out of your bedroom one evening, dressed from head to toe in clothes she certainly has never seen you in before. clothes you'd surely never wear to work or when lounging at home.

she licks her lips, her mouth suddenly feeling very, very dry. "what-- where are you--?"

"putting myself out there." you shrug, idly stroking a palm along your head, smoothing your hair. "I mean, it always works for you. and, you're right, porn can only do so much. I think it's time for me to, you know, actually try to get with someone."

sevika's jaw clenches. like the fuck you will. "no."

"what do you mean 'no'?" you scoff, swinging your bag over your shoulder. "I can do whatever I want."

"well, I'm not letting you do this," she snaps, standing from her seat on the couch and rushing to block you from the door.

"why not?"

"because I--" she cuts herself off, teeth pressing in together as her mind is shaken with an influx of thoughts. because what can she even say? it's not just about wanting to fuck, not anymore. she's actually interested now. so interested that it's been weeks since she last brought a girl over. no point in doing so if her mind is filled with thoughts of you touching yourself to the noises, anyways.

you raise an eyebrow, crossing your arms over your chest. "yes?"

she leans in closer, propping a hand next to where your shoulders rest along the door. there's an inexplicable urge tugging her forwards to you, and she doesn't have it in her to resist it. "because I," she rasps, her voice low and scratchy, "I want you safe."

jesus, is she an idiot?

your face is deadpan, not a twitch of expression in sight. "you do it all the time. besides, how will I learn unless I'm out there, doing it?" after a beat skips between you two, you add, "unless you wanna come with?"

sevika snorts. "you really think I'm gonna watch you fuck about with some other people who don't deserve you?"

you brace your head against the plane of the door, eyes tracing over her face, making sevika's skin tingle in response. "then, who does?" you mutter quietly.

your tone is no longer flat. it's raised in pitch a bit, almost sounding hopeful. sevika swallows hard, her own body beginning to tense in anticipation. she latches onto that audible sign, using it to propel her forward until her lips are ghosting yours.

"me, you idiot."

and with that, she cups your face, drawing you into a soft kiss, your chapstick-smeared lips thick and slippery against hers.

roommate!sevika who makes you come so many times that night that you lose track. first with her head between your thighs, mouthing at your clit, fingers pumping into your hole as she spreads you loose and open. her lips wrap around the stiffened bud, drawing it in in tight, sharp sucks, the pressure of the movements making your legs tremble around her head, pressing into her ears without relent.

"damn, you trying to suffocate me?" she murmurs against your clit, the vibrations of her words making you whimper.

"it's what you deserve," you chuckle once the fog has cleared a bit, the noise dissolving into a whine when her tongue darts out, flapping over your clit with hard presses up and down, up and down.

"you're right," she hums, pressing a soft kiss to the spot just as her fingers curl up and begin stroking your g-spot, making streams of pleasure pulse from your pussy into your tummy, which tightens in anticipation. "I've been a dick to you, huh? I'll make it up to you tonight."

and make it up she does, her strap plunging into you and stretching your hole into a dull ache as her strong fingers hook onto her headboard, raising herself over you as your hips smack together. the mix of lube and your juices send filthy little squelches flowing through the room, and the noise only adds to the whirlwind of pleasure she's throwing you into without pause.

when she kisses you hard, making you whine as her fingers wrap around your throat and her tongue shoves into you, you can't resist quipping through your moans, "gotta say -- those girls had a point."

she chuckles against your mouth, nipping at your bottom lip. "and I was going easy on them. just wait till I'm done with you."

roommate!sevika who wraps her arm around you when smoking her cigarette afterwards. after lying together with nothing but some faded music playing in the background for a few minutes, she presses a tentative, slow kiss to your head, muttering, "I wish I had started talking to you earlier on."

you blink in surprise from the words, the tenderness of the moment sending a flood of emotions through you. you don't want to sound needy, but now that the topic has been brought up, a part of you aches for reassurance, wishing for the hollow part of you her initial avoidance had bore to be filled. "was it because I seemed uninteresting, or...?"

"no, no," she immediately cuts in, her voice hard. "I just wasn't interested in bonding with any roommate. never have been." her nails gently skim along your arm, and her voice lowers before confessing, "I thought you were sweet, though."

that sends satisfaction pumping through you, and you need to purse your lips together to halt a wide smile from breaking over your face. "yeah?"

"yeah, until you started being a little fucking menace," she whispers with a grin, her hand snaking down to squeeze your ass, a motion which nearly sends you moaning.

"hey, you started it with your panty-stealing girl."

"my panty-stealing girl?" she asks incredulously, her chin pointing down to shoot you a wide-eyed look. "you think I'm gonna call anyone mine except you now?"

feeling suddenly bashful from the bold declaration, you nuzzle into her neck, your face heating up. "I don't know."

"huh, you know, you're cute like this. docile, quiet--"

"oh, fuck off."

she laughs, lightly pinching your arm, which sends you squealing. "eh, I knew it only could've lasted so long."

"like you'd have it any other way."

she takes a drag, the corner of her lips curling up. "got a point there."

no sentences and/or parts of my writing are allowed to be reposted or reused without explicit permission or credits given.

[yume127]

I find it interesting how Roxas is often described as the “angry one” or “short-tempered one” when compared to Sora or Ventus, mostly because I always felt Sora and Ven have a shorter fuse than Roxas.

The association between Roxas and anger is understandable, because many of Roxas’ most poignant moments in the series happen when he is very (and understandably) angry, but I also feel like it’s a disservice to his character to only reduce him to his anger, especially when it’s far from who he is in normal circumstances.

For example, during Days, many Organization members treat him poorly and insult him to his face and, for the most part, Roxas doesn’t react at all. In Halloween Town, Lock, Shock, and Barrel throw bombs in his face multiple times before Roxas finally snaps at them. He senses that many people around him are keeping things from him, but it takes him months before he confronts someone about it. That’s far from someone I’d consider short-tempered or easy to anger.

The only situation I can think of when we see him get upset quickly is if anyone does or says something bad to Xion and, even then, the most of his reaction is verbally snapping at Saix to make him stop disrespecting her. In Axel’s case (when Roxas is upset with him for attacking Xion), Roxas doesn’t confront him at all, he just avoids him altogether. Also, I think it’s important to note that every moment in which Roxas is very angry happens when his entire life is falling apart, which is a situation in which, I believe, everyone would be upset.

Roxas seems the kind of person who bottles everything up without much reaction until it becomes too much and he explodes, and that’s when he has a hard time controlling his anger/emotions. Having spent most of his life in the organization probably plays a part in it as, every time he brings up any emotion, his feelings are invalidated and suppressed. That’s not an environment that gave him the tools to process strong emotions in a healthy way.

Let’s compare that to Ventus. Ven is the definition of short-tempered in BBS. He’s ready to throw hands with Vanitas the moment he says something remotely bad about Terra, which was minutes after he met him for the first time. He fought the dwarves without a second thought just because they refused to talk with him. His first reaction when he becomes small and is trapped in a mousetrap is to shout. These are just some examples from the top of my head, but it’s clear Ven has a shorter fuse than Roxas.

Ventus usually expresses how he feels in any given situation and has a short fuse. On the flip side, he doesn’t seem to hold on to these feelings at all. He externalises them the moment he feels them, but then he lets it go and it doesn’t bother him anymore. Out of the three of them, Ventus seems the most open about his emotions and, from what I remember, when he opens up about feeling a certain way with his friends, his feelings are usually not invalidated nor brushed aside. In UX, Ventus seems calmer and doesn’t have much anger in him, but he’s still open to expressing his feelings of low self-worth and sadness with the other union leaders.

Sora, I think he falls in the middle? He seems to have a shorter temper compared to Roxas, which was especially clear in KH2, where he snaps at the Organization multiple times, but he also bottles up his emotions more than Ven, especially around his friends. This happens mostly with his sadness, which he always tries to hide or brush aside, but in KH3 we can also see, for example, how much he’s bothered by everyone constantly bringing up him not passing the Mark of Mastery, even if he tries not to show it.

I think Sora feels like he should always be happy for his friends’ sake, and even during the rare moments when he tries to express his sadness, his feelings are not truly welcomed (“No frowning. No sad faces. This boat runs on happy faces”), so he just tries to brush it off as a joke. He’s loud in expressing any kind of positive emotion, and he openly expresses his anger against his enemies (and to his friends too, sometimes), but he also doesn’t hold on to that anger and is pretty forgiving. However, he usually bottles up his sadness, low self-esteem and other negative feelings, and then explodes when he can’t hold it together any longer (like it happened at the Keyblade Graveyard when he thought all his friends were gone forever).

[ceoofglytchell]

Gilded Cage

Summary: After word of Aegon’s son’s death reaches you, you personally fly to King’s Landing yourself to plead for mercy and to end the senseless bloodshed of the war. Little did you know that once you arrive and come face to face with your uncles, they were not willing to let you leave again. They have always been enamored with you, their sweet little niece, and now they finally have you in their clutches, not willing to let go of you a second time.

Pairing: Aegon II Targaryen x Strong!Niece!Reader x Aemond Targaryen

Word count: 2995 words

Warnings: incest, Reader is described of having Strong features, Reader is Rhaenyra's and Harwin's second child, brief angst, past friends to enemies to lovers, fluff (kinda), brief nudity, brief kinda dubious consent but also not really (just touches and kisses), the slightest briefest allusions to smut, aegon being a bit of an ass, no mention of Y/N

Notes: I am back! As always, feedback and criticism is always appreciated and please remember that english is not my native language 💛

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How had it come to this?

You asked yourself this question over and over again as you sat in the warm water of the bathtub, the smell of various oils enveloping you, while Prince Aemond knelt by your side, gently washing your back with one hand, while his other hand stroked through your long brown hair that marked you as one of Rhaenyra Targaryen's bastards.

Exactly three days ago, you had flown in haste to King's Landing on the back of your dragon in the early hours of the morning after a raven had arrived on Dragonstone, bringing hearsay of a gruesome crime in which two men had entered the Red Keep and murdered the king's son in the most horrific manner. Rumor had it that these men had been sent by your mother as revenge for the murder of your younger brother Lucerys, but that was not true. It was not her, she would never do that - at least that was what you chose to believe. You hadn't waited long enough to listen to any explanations.

In the dragon pit you were immediately met by Ser Criston Cole, the new Lord Commander of the Kingsguard, who had escorted you back to the castle in silence and in chains. The castle where you had grown up and in whose halls you had once felt safe and happy was still in a state of chaos and you had heard Aegon's angry shouting on the way to the council chamber. Every step had been difficult and then he had suddenly stormed out of the chamber and your face had been the first thing he saw, his own face wet with tears.

You didn't hold it against him that he had immediately grabbed you by the shoulders and pushed you against the nearest wall, demanding answers that you could not give him. You had come to beg for forgiveness, not to incur the king's wrath. But what exactly had you expected? He would never have welcomed you with open arms - just like your mother would not have welcomed any of them.

You didn't hold it against Aegon for shouting at you, cursing you, demanding that you be locked up in the dungeons as a traitor to the crown, after all he had just lost his three year old son. His son, whom you had only recently met and you had immediately understood why he loved that little boy so much. He was now a grieving father and now you had to serve as his scapegoat - which you accepted, since you had foolishly put yourself in that position.

You hadn't expected to run into Aemond on your way to the dungeons, though, while Cole had held your arm so tightly that you could still see a bruise on your delicate skin. The one-eyed prince had been the one who had taken your other arm, gently, and then led you in the other direction, away from the dungeons and away from the darkness that had nearly swallowed you up, while Ser Criston disappeared again to continue his own duties.

Your closest companion during your childhood, your first love, had come to save you, but you had quickly learned that instead of saving you, he had put you in a cage. One that you could no longer escape from, since you were all alone in these halls. And the king was still raging.

Aegon had now hanged the ratcatchers instead of you, and from what you had heard, his grandfather the Hand had not been very pleased with this decision, since only a few hours earlier a funeral march had been held for the young prince, with the queens being forced to attend.

You hadn't attended the funeral, of course, because you were just another prisoner of the Greens, but instead of chains, you were kept in a gilded cage, metaphorically speaking. Your cage was your old chambers and your captor was the prince who had murdered your brother, and that man was treating you with such gentleness right now that you couldn't believe he was even capable of killing, but he was. The sword he was carrying, which stood on the wall opposite the tub, was like a silent threat, a warning sign for you to behave and not step out of line. You only had his sympathy as long as you kept quiet and let him do whatever he wanted.

It was better for you and for everyone involved.

Yesterday he had tried to talk to you, but since you didn't answer, he apparently decided to stay quiet this evening so it would be easier for him and for you. He probably thought that this way you could pretend he was someone dear to you instead of your childhood friend who ended up plunging the kingdom into war. But he didn't know that you were actually thinking about him the whole time.

The way his hand slid down your spine, the way he ran his other hand through your hair, twirling a few strands around his long fingers, and the way his warm breath brushed against your neck. It also didn't help that you weren't wearing any clothes, while he was still wrapped in his leathers, a sign that he hadn't let you close to him and back into his heart yet, but it was the same with you. It didn't mean much to you that you were bare and vulnerable, because your silent resistance consisted of not saying a word, not even looking at him and certainly not giving him the smile that had always comforted him in your childhood.

"Come, the water is getting cold," he spoke suddenly into the silence of the chambers, where the only other sound was the gentle flickering of the candles that stood around, as they gave you warmth and security. You had to thank the servants for lighting them for you in the first place, because the young king probably still wanted the opposite if he hadn't calmed down yet.

The one-eyed prince gently grabbed your arm and pulled you out of the spacious bathtub, whereupon, as soon as your feet touched the floor again and small drops of water hit the cold stone, he wrapped you in a light robe made of golden silk so as not to tempt him.

You were just tying the soft robe around your waist when suddenly the door opened and a very sad and very drunk looking Aegon stumbled into the darkly lit rooms, a full cup of wine in his hand. He straightened his stature when he saw the two of you and blinked in surprise, a small laugh escaping him, as he had not expected to find his younger brother here while you stood next to him, wearing nothing but a robe and your skin and hair still wet.

Aemond the Fierce, indeed.

"What is the meaning of this?" asked Aegon, letting the heavy wooden doors slam shut behind him, shutting out the world and everything else.

"The princess was just going to bed," Aemond explained on your behalf as he led you a few steps away from the bathtub and towards your bed. The sun had not even fully set yet and he was already about to send you to bed. You usually only slipped under the covers late at night, as you were always able to concentrate better in the late hours - a night owl instead of a dragon.

"What, now?" He looked at you both in confusion and took another sip from his cup, showing no reaction to the strong wine. He had always grimaced back then, you remembered well. He was also the first person to ever hold a cup of wine to your lips.

"She is tired."

"She seems very awake to me."

"She needs to sleep."

"Can she not speak for herself?"

You looked down stubbornly at the floor, not looking at your eldest uncle, who had robbed your mother of her throne, or your brother's murderer, because you didn't know how to behave around them, as both of them still had a reason to wish you harm. Aemond because of the past and as a power play and Aegon because of the murder of Jaehaerys, because nobody knew exactly who had sent the murderers.

"You know her, of course she can. She just does not want to." Aemond said and placed a finger under your chin and pushed it up slightly so that you were forced to look up at him and look into his one amethyst-colored eye.

"Perhaps we should make her?" Aegon suggested and came to stand beside the pair of you, almost falling over the edge of the bathtub, which thankfully didn't happen, even though it would have elicited a good laugh from you.

"You won't touch her."

One sentence. From now on, this one sentence would make up the very bones of the relationship between you and it had all started when he spoke it through gritted teeth with a slightly frustrated undertone, surprising you and his brother.

"Why? Look how lovely she is, I don't know how long I can resist, brother." Aegon reached out his hand to stroke your soft, rosy cheek, but Aemond was faster and grabbed his wrist, which he held tightly and looked at the older brother with such a piercing gaze that for a moment you feared that you were about to witness another act of kinslaying.

Aegon blinked in a mixture of confusion and shock, as he had never believed his little brother would ever turn against him like that. Especially not when it was because of a woman, but he had apparently always been sensitive about that topic. Had he ever shared a bed with anyone other than the madam?

"Careful now. I am your king."

Aemond tilted his head, his long silver hair falling over one shoulder and a small grin pulling the corners of his mouth upward, but it seemed more mocking than kindhearted. "And am I not your best sword? Do I not deserve a reward for my loyal service to the crown?"

You. You were the reward he spoke of, and both you and Aegon recognized that the moment the words left his mouth. Your eyes widened and your mouth fell open slightly, because the last thing you expected was that your uncle would ever show you such affection again, although you doubted that it was actually true affection, but rather a darker feeling - possessiveness.

"I wanted to claim her as my prize of war. In exchange for your lost son, the Whore of Dragonstone loses her only daughter."

A small, barely perceptible scoff left your lips at the title Aemond gave your mother, but to your regret, the two men had heard you very well and both of them wanted to hear more from you. Your soft, melodic voice, your sweet laugh, your soft sighs... They both wanted more.

"What? Is that not a fitting name for your mother, sweetling?" Aegon provoked and you could swear that one of your hands clenched into a fist, ready to teach him a lesson that he would remember even in months to come, but you didn't. A part of you still felt sorry for him and you knew that on the one hand he was drunk but on the other hand he was still grieving, but in his own way, which was not particularly healthy.

Aemond let go of his wrist and instead placed both of his hands on your shoulders, as if he wanted to make sure you wouldn't run away and as if he wanted to show you again who had the upper hand here.

"How about Bitch Queen of Bastards?"

Your hand shot forward, but before it could hit his pale cheek, your other uncle had already grabbed your arm, causing you to growl in frustration.

"Ah, ah, ah, I could have you executed for trying to hit your king, dove."

"Bastard." You insulted him as you tried to free your arm from Aemond's grip, but the one-eyed prince didn't let go, not even for a moment. The brothers might have their differences, but when necessary, they clearly stuck together and protected each other. Despite all of this, their relationship was tainted by the jokes Aegon had made during their childhood, and Aemond would probably never forget that. You could still remember the joke with the pig and how you had consoled him afterward. However, there had also been a few moments when you had held the older prince - now king - tightly in your arms while he buried his tear-streaked face in your brown curls.

Even then, both brothers had been very dear to you, and now that you were all grown up, you no longer knew what your heart wanted, while your mind screamed at you to never let them get close to you again.

"He is a bastard? Do you speak like that to your brothers as well, little one?" Aemond whispered, his warm breath brushing against the shell of your ear, sending a shiver down your spine and your heart leaping in your chest.

"Idiot." You spat over your shoulder, causing the man behind you to gently shake his head, while a quiet chuckle escaped him that a part of you wanted to hear again and again and again so that you could engrave it in your memories.

"What happened to our sweet little niece? I hardly recognize her, brother, do you?"

When had Aegon gotten so close to you? You could feel Aegon and Aemond's breath on your skin and feel the warmth of their bodies transfer to yours. The feeling was intoxicating and you had to make an effort not to do something you would surely regret later.

"You have to look into her eyes. There you will see the ghost of her," murmured Aemond, leaning his head against yours and pressing his sharp nose against your hair, inhaling your scent to remind him later, when he would be alone in his chambers and nothing but the memory of you would plague his every thought as it had been for the past few years, and would probably never change.

Aegon took his brother's suggestion to heart and looked down into your dark doe-like eyes, but all he saw was silent defiance and a spark of something else he would love to taste - a forbidden fruit just waiting to be consumed by him.

He couldn't hold back any longer.

"Oh, fuck it," with those words he leaned towards you and pressed his lips against yours, kissing you as if it were the only and last time he would ever have the opportunity to.

The sight of his fool of a brother kissing your lips ignited a fire in the kinslayer and he immediately pushed the king away from you and stood between your smaller frame and him, his hands clenched into fists and his one eye glaring daggers at the other man.

"How dare you taste her before I do? We had an agreement!”

Aegon laughed heartily as you stared at your uncle’s back, breathing heavily, not understanding what was happening. Three days ago he had wanted to lock you in the dungeons and now he was kissing you like his life depended on it.

“Our agreement was that you could have her first, but we never discussed kissing. I allowed myself that honor.”

“One more word-”

Before Aemond could take another step toward his older brother, you grabbed his hand, surprising yourself and him, as well as the king, who reached for his cup again to calm his nerves. The prince looked back at you, his one eye wide and his cheeks flushed, and you had to stop yourself from jumping into his arms and kissing him like Aegon had just kissed you, and then you would kiss the other brother again, and then over and over again, until they were all sated.

"Don't hurt him, uncle. You can have me." You didn't know what had possessed you to say that, but you couldn't change it now anyway. You had awakened the dragon, and he probably wouldn't be satisfied with simply looking at you anymore.

You loved your mother, but your two uncles had long since captured your heart, and they too seemed to be completely infatuated with you, their sweet little niece, but you couldn't complain.

"And what about me? Will I be allowed to have you too? At least once?" asked Aegon, placing his now empty wine cup on the dresser next to him, because he would choose you over alcohol any single day. You were like the sun that lit up the sky, his personal sun, even though a few days ago he had feared for a moment that you had broken his heart and taken his boy from him, but it was brought to him recently that you had absolutely nothing to do with it, whereupon a weight was lifted from his shoulders.

"You will have to learn to share."

Your words caused the two of them to look at each other for a long moment before Aemond let out a long sigh and a wide grin formed on Aegon's face.

The moment both brothers pulled you close and began to kiss both sides of your neck, you knew that this was going to be a long night and that the conflict in your heart would only get worse, because if you were faced with the choice, who would you choose in the end - your mother or the men you loved?

Who would it be when the war would be unstoppable and more blood would be shed? You had no answer to that, but what you knew for sure was that you could never go back to who you once were. You were theirs now and they were yours. Forever.

⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅∙∘☽༓☾∘∙•⋅⋅⋅•⋅⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅

[vetteltea]

Love Will Always Show | CL16 & CS55

Summary: The choice of a lifetime is yours to make, your husband and lover both longing for your heart. They face conflict, choices and most importantly, one another.

Word Count: 8.4K [& a bit more]

Warnings: angst, mentions of cheating and dishonesty, manipulation, hospital talk.

Note: The fact I was a newbie to F1Blr when this started and now...here we are. I want to thank each and EVERY person who has ever read this series. It's changed everything for me, it is truly my love letter to you all and I hope you enjoy the finale. You are all forever in my heart and I cannot thank you all enough.

PART 1: A House, A Home | PART 2: Where Do We Go? | PART 3: ‘You Think, You Know’ | PART 4: 'Love Will Always Show'

Love is a gentle hand cradling your back. 

Time had suspended when your body had collapsed onto the rough floor outside of the Scuderia Ferrari hospitality. Immediately, several scarlet-clad personnel were running over, shouts echoing across the open space, somebody mumbling that they needed to get you somewhere safe and warm before your body temperature dropped dangerously. 

There’s a question of who to call; your father wasn’t in the country, ever since your mother’s funeral, he’s become silent, your siblings having been lovingly sent to stay with a close aunt. He had been absent from the previous Ferrari meeting, his assistant having sent a message to say he would be absent for a little longer. Clearly, the death of your mother was taking a toll. 

The next obvious choice of course, was your husband. However, with the win that he had been craving for oh-so-long, he was currently wrapped up in press, endless ‘congratulations’ messages from celebrities and presenters alike. Nobody would know where to find the monegasqué right now, let alone how to tell him of his wife’s status whilst surrounded by endless television cameras and sly reporters. 

There’s no need for him, anyway. Leaving the media pen after vigorous questioning of his loyalty to the team and his current emotions on a premature end to the race, Carlos’ dark eyes quirk to the side, registering the crowd of bodies circling the hospitality area. They only widen when the realization dawns on his clouded mind that it’s you, your body is the one thing they are all crowding around. 

His steps break into a run, no signal being given to his media manager nor his cousin. He speaks a few sharp, spanish words, creating a break in the circle, able to insert his toned body into the sea of red, immediately squatting, one hand coming out to elevate the back of your head. He knows how particular you could be with your hair, how you insisted on now sleeping on silk pillowcases to keep it healthy. Asphalt ground was not comfortable nor hygienic. 

There’s talk; talk about whether to take you to the hospital, whether to wait for your husband to return and make the decision. Carlos feels his blood curdle at the use of marital status. His teammate, the man who had treated you no better than the way he had treated bonds of trust, was the one to make a choice of your health and wellbeing. 

He simply cannot stand for that. 

“We need to take her to the hospital.” He interrupts the commotion, the strong tone settling over the panicked employees. “Surely that is the best place for her if she is unconscious, no?” The whispers and mumbles which echo the surrounding members of the team signify agreement. 

There’s a discussion of how to bring you in without drawing attention to the media. Surely, if a giant ambulance or even a medical car was to storm through the paddock, no doubt endless media outlets would be creating headlines before even bothering to speak to anybody present. The Spaniard is already making his own choice, using his arms to gently adjust your body.

He shouldn’t; he really shouldn’t be moving you, not when you haven’t been checked for broken bones or concussion. Yet, the idea of the most beautiful girl, Mariposa, lying on a hard floor with no form of comfort or safety sickens him to his stomach. Carlos is still gentle with the movements, letting your head lean into his stomach, one hand is supporting your back, tanned fingers digging gentle patterns into the curve of your skin. The other one traces once, twice, three times around your cheekbone, dark eyes transfixed on your features. 

You must have hit your skin when falling to the ground; there’s a graze dancing across your cheekbone, specks of dirt resting in between each knock. The man cradling you is gentle, moving his shirt just enough up his body that he’s able to take the hemmed end, feather it across your cheek in an attempt to remove the offending chunks. 

Someone nudges Carlos’s shoulder, more in an attempt to tell him somebody was just outside the Paddock; that they could drive you to the hospital right now. He…he can’t bring himself to leave you. A strong grasp lifts you from the ground, holding you close to his chest, murmuring that he would get you there, and he supposed somebody would have to find Charles. 

The area grows quiet; Carlos’ pace draws away from the Paddock and to the back entry. He was thankful that the entirety of the drivers were still either trapped in the media or with their own teams, celebrating or commiserating. He had enough of that for one day; an entire six laps was barely worth speaking about. 

You’re still unconscious, still limp in his arms. However, there’s a rise and fall of your chest, you’re still breathing. That’s all he could ask for at this present time. He silently promises himself there and then that when you wake up, he’s making his final move. Where Charles has been playing chequers, he is playing chess; he had proven that even whilst you were stuck with your estranged husband, he would love you regardless.

There’s a people carrier in the car park, he’s certain he’s seen various drivers use it before; a built-in stretcher lies in the back, it’s ideally a discreet ambulance. The media could be brutal with gossiping when any driver had to leave the track. It would look worse if Charles Leclerc’s wife was seen leaving the paddock with his teammate. The driver of the vehicle nods when seeing the two get closer, stepping to sit in the driver’s seat whilst Carlos adjusted his grasp. 

He lays you down onto the stretcher; it’s secured, you’ll be safe for the drive. The man can’t help but feel a draw of protectiveness over you. What on earth had caused it to collapse? Had he done something? Blood boiled, if your husband had done anything to cause this, he could personally guarantee that Charles would not be finishing any races for the remainder of the season. He would make sure of that. 

His attention is caught by the glimmer of silver on your left hand; your wedding band. When he reaches the car, tucks you into the seat carefully and makes sure the seatbelt is secure around your frame, his fingers glide over your hand, removing the band and putting it in his own pocket. 

‘It’s for your own good,’ he tells himself. ‘If your fingers swell up, they may need to cut it off.’ He could tell himself this story a thousand times; it doesn't hide the fact that his true intention in this moment is simple; for once, he could be the devoted husband, taking his wife to be nursed back to health. 

The Spainard leans down, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your forehead, murmuring that you were going to be okay, that he would stay with you the entire time. The driver shouts, telling him to take a seat so they could get there before the press figured out something was wrong. He kisses your skin once more, before closing the doors, sprinting to the backseat, throwing his body in carelessly. 

Angst overtakes his senses, shouting at the driver to start the car, he doesn't care about being strapped in. This way, he’s able to lean over the backseat, one hand reaching out to clasp at your own. You need to know that somebody is there, that he is there for you. He’s always been there for you. The car pivots out of the parking space, beeling for the main road and to the hospital. 

Love is a scream for your name. 

“Charles, tu dois ralenir!” Joris is insisting he needs to slow down the car; turning the current Leclerc in hospital into a duo would not be a satisfying outcome. 

Ever since he’s been told, all your husband can see is red mist. One Ferrari employee had sprinted up to him whilst he was in the midst of cameras, the grin on his face as he’s finally able to seek his wife out, wanting nothing more than to skip on the Scuderia celebrations and take you instead, your beaming smile radiating the energy he had been bathed in. 

It’s funny how life can change in the matter of a few moments; one second, he’s on top of the world, the next, Charles is pushing through every media outlet, fan and celebrity, barging himself into his driver’s room. He doesn't have time to remove his fireproofs, to pick up any of his belongings apart from his car keys. He isn’t communicating, french profanities fall from his lips, shaking his head in rage that nobody could find him to tell him. Tell him that his wife had been taken to hospital. 

Joris had been the one to sprint after him; he knew better than most, when Charles saw nothing but mist, there was no getting to him, not whilst he was determined to do something. The driver knew in his heart his best friend was not to blame; after all, he had no idea of your disappearance, he had been with Charles almost the entire time. And yet…he can’t bring himself to even speak to Joris. Not until the duo make it to his rented car, Charles is adamant he is driving. 

He only starts speaking when his best friend tells him to slow down. The driver barely does, only drawing to a slower pace when he sees the traffic lights start to build in front of him. Even in a panic, he respects road rulings. Drawing to a stop, the man finally has a second to take a shaky, unbalanced breath, angry tears pooling at the bottom of his eyes. 

“Why did nobody tell me my wife was at the hospital?” His voice is strained, he’s clearly holding back tears, whether they’re angry or fearful is a different question. “She’s my- she’s my wife!” He can’t stop repeating it, as if it’s a prayer. His wife. His wife. 

“She’ll be okay.” Joris knows that’s quite possibly the worst thing he could say to his best friend, but it’s the only thing he can bring himself to say. “She will be. C’est juste par précaution.” 

“Putain!” Charles’ words are sharp, immediately pressing on the acceleration as the light switches to green, overtaking three cars in a matter of moments. He’s a man of regret, he has been ever since he realized how much he adores you. In that moment, he can’t help but think of everything he could have done differently that afternoon. He could have come and found you right after the podium, could have given you his jacket and told you to stay in his driver’s room, he would come and get you after. He could- he could of-

He could of waited with you after the funeral. He could have come and picked you up from Milan when you went to spend time with Carlos. He could have deleted his mistress’ number, and told her he was married. 

“Tourner à gauche.” Joris tells his best friend to turn left, the Hospital Car Park coming into view. Charles turns the car, immediately eyes are roaming for any space, anywhere he could put the car. A sharp whistle and point from his best friend shows him a space right by the Emergency Department, parking the vehicle in possibly the worst way he ever has done. Within three seconds, the engine is switched off, seatbelts are unbuckled, and he’s shouting to Joris to pay for the parking, he needs to get inside. 

For a driver, his sense of direction is becoming worse. It takes him a solid minute to read a sign, before his legs break into a sprint, skidding into a bustling Emergency Room. There’s old men, leant over in pain, convinced they’re dying. A child snuffling, masses of paper towels on her head. A woman with a twisted ankle, her attention engrossed by the magazine in her grasp. It smells of hand sanitiser and bleach, the yellow walls are hurting his eyes. 

A woman behind the desk taps the counter, drawing his attention. “Hey- Sir!” She snaps. You can’t blame her; it’s hour thirteen of her fifteen hour shift. “You can’t be in here unless you’re hurt-”

He shouts your name. It’s as if he completely forgets he’s in a building. Charles is embedded in a maze, even if a lady in front of him can pull up your immediate location, he needs to find you himself, and he needs to find you now. 

It isn’t until Joris comes in, having heard his best friend scream your name, that he overtakes Charles so overcome that he’s now hiding his head in his hands, unable to say anything that wasn’t your name. His ears prick up when the second man starts speaking, giving the woman your first name, your last name- Leclerc- and when you had been bought in. There’s a light tapping of the keyboard, she tells Joris you are in the department round the corner, room ten-

Charles is gone before she can finish her sentence, catapulting down the hallway, dodging round endless people, frantically searching for doors with numbers, not names. He sees the number four. Six. Eight. 

Number Ten rolls into view. Without a single word, his hand latches around the door handle, pushing so violently the door smacks onto the inside wall. His eyes immediately fly to the bed, you’re lying there, so unconscious, still so beautiful, some strips over the graze on your cheek. Still, arms to either side, one hand connected to an IV, clearly in an attempt to rehydrate you. His first question is the location of your wedding ring, where on earth was it? Has it been taken away? It’s a question he completely forgets about when his gaze travels further. 

The other hand is being held by a Spanish man he knows all too much about. 

Love is notes left on a coffee cup. 

Both men stood, silently hovering over your body whilst the nurse came in to run a course of tests, check your blood pressure, the IV line, make sure you were being cared for in the best capacity. Each held a coffee cup, Charles’ still primarily full, he couldn’t stomach anything; he felt sick from seeing you lie here, not laughing, smiling, speaking. Carlos had downed the drink bought in by Joris in a matter of moments; to him, it was fuel. Something to keep him awake until you woke up. 

Whilst Charles was the one to ask questions; ‘Do you know what caused this? Is she going to have any long-term issues? Does she need any assistance when she wakes up?’ Carlos has captured the marker which has rested alongside the clipboard of your notes, his tongue poked out in concentration. The marker grazes along the cup, leaving a note, drawing a tiny picture of a butterfly- Mariposa- and placing the cup on your table, a silent message for if you woke up and god forbid- he wasn’t there.

The nurse draws away from your body, diverting her next task to the two men. 

“I need to continue the examination but…” She looks to the door. “I cannot have you both in here. You need to wait outside, the Doctor will come in for further tests-”

“Can one of us wait here?” Carlos is the first to interrupt, the look on the woman’s face tells him he’s made a mistake. 

“Both.” She clarifies, pointing at himself, then at his teammate. “One and two. You need to wait outside. If she wakes up or there’s any…issues, we will let you know.” 

It turns out, both men are hesitant to leave you; Charles moves first, crouching by your side, running a gentle hand over your hairline, pressing his lips carefully to your temple. He’s murmuring, french words of adoration and comfort, that he will be right there when you need him. 

When one steps away, the other comes forward. Carlos doesn't say anything, instead tracing a gentle finger across your cheek. His touch tells you everything, it speaks volumes. He loves you, he’ll be outside, don’t be afraid to come running into his arms like you had done once before. The nurse begins to lose her patience, ushering both men out into the corridor, telling them to sit in the plastic chairs provided or go somewhere else; she really didn’t care. 

The scene is reminiscent of two boys sitting outside of the principal’s office; Charles’ head hides in his hands, leaning forward, still dressed in his fireproofs. He’s tied the sleeves around his waist, the dark undershirt now drenched in sweat from the driving, both on track and to the hospital. 

He feels movement next to him, Carlos’ hand dips into his pocket, pulling out something small, silvery. Her wedding ring. He supposes Carlos means it as a sign of goodwill, that he kept it safe. In the Monégasques mind, it’s the fuel to light the fire. Scoffing, he snatches the jewelry off of his teammate, placing the band onto his pinky finger, it’s the only one it would fit on, the only way he could keep it safe. 

“Funny. You took it off her.” He’s growing mad, aggravated that Carlos wouldn’t just go away and leave him and his wife alone. Hadn’t he done enough already? “Why don’t you go back to Natasha?” The blonde ex-media woman for their team is referenced. Carlos opens his mouth, ready to snap back, it was a low blow for Charles to reference his history with the woman. 

“I know what you did.” He huffs. There’s something…different. Different in the way he speaks to Carlos now compared to every other day. The polite, civil conversation is gone, the fact he couldn’t pass judgment because of his own actions has evaporated. “I know you invited her to Madrid just to make a move.” He remembers seeing the instagram stories, how your eyes were wide, full of life. He made you remember life is beautiful. “You kept her close. You wanted her and didn’t like that she was mine.” 

“Yours?” He scoffs. “She’s not your property, Charles.” 

“No. But she’s my wife. I’m the one she lies next to every night, I’m the one who will care for her in sickness and health, who’s shoulder was leant on through every bad time.” He pauses. “Who picked her up after you coaxed her into your bed.” He laughs. Actually, laughs. The memory replayed in his head, how sleepy you looked as he guided you back into the SUV, how your heart sank when seeing the blonde approach his front door. In that moment, you had convinced yourself you meant nothing to Carlos apart from lust. 

Charles was a jealous man; he had taken pride in stripping off his teammates' clothing, wrapping you in his own, soft hoodie. You were his. Carlos wouldn’t care for you the way he did, he was a man too full of lust. He was convinced the Spainard didn’t make you laugh, didn’t make you smile, didn’t make you come- 

“You corrupted her, Carlos.” He finishes. “I know what you did-”

“-And I know what you did.” Carlos snarls. He doesn't care about anything more; he knows all too well that his teammate could go crying to the Ferrari bosses, have him removed from the team in a blink of an eye, throwing some false information out which he would have to comply with. But he doesn't care. His affection has grown too strong for that. 

“I know everything, Charles.” He’s monotone, he’s stating facts. “I know how she waited at home for you on her birthday, whilst you were in your mistress’ bed.” Carlos remembers asking you about your plans the previous week, how you had brushed them off. “I know how she made you dinner every night, how you refused to eat it.” Charles feels his stomach drop, the endless leftovers stacked neatly in the fridge, the meals he had never bothered to try. “I know on your wedding night, you came into the hotel room drunk, covered in bites and she slept on the sofa-”

“Enough!” Charles’ voice shouts, standing up from the plastic chair in the corridor. He doesn't have to hear this, he can’t bear to hear this. One mistake a day was something he was always able to brush off. Hearing each and every one of his infidelities laid out in front of him sent his mind into overdrive. “You have no right to comment on-”

“On what?” The Spainard is standing up now, chest out and arms folded. “On your marriage?” He laughs, he smirks. “Can you call it that? A marriage is a bond between two people who love one another-”

“I love her!” Charles cuts him off, stepping closer. “I love her.” He repeats himself. Carlos looks gobsmacked, shaking his head in denial. 

“You have a really weird way of showing her you love her.” He continues to poke, to prod. “Sharing a bed with another woman is not how you show love-”

“I admitted to my mistakes!” He’s quick to defend himself, how the restraining order was placed and a lawsuit filed, how he promised if you wanted to know anything, see anything, he would let you. How he would spend the rest of his days always feeling dread and regret. “I fixed them-”

“Who says she still loves you?” Carlos has snapped.

Charles hates to admit that he may be right. Is it really fair for him to expect your love after everything that has happened in the past year? It didn’t matter how many times he begged, he pleaded or promised. The man you had married had spent the better part of 365 days in the arms of another woman, a woman that as he stood here, clinging onto any hope of his marriage, meant absolutely nothing to him. 

His slim fingers trail down, circling the cool band which rested on his left finger. He had decided there and then, he would keep it on, always. There would be no more reasoning, none. If Lewis could wear his earrings, Charles would wear his wedding ring. He looks back up, Carlos still boring into him with dark eyes, the anger he radiated almost entirely visible. 

“Do you love her?” He presses. He needs to know; he doesn't bring himself to care that you had spent a night in his arms, not when he had done it to you a thousand times over. The idea makes him sick, but nothing compared to the idea that you are in love with somebody that isn’t him, not when he needs nothing but for you to come home, back to your home with him. 

Charles swears he feels vomit rise into his mouth when Carlos nods. He’s not stupid, not really. He knows how he fell for you properly in the past few weeks, how for Carlos who has been in awe of your affection and attention, the center of every race weekend you had reluctantly attended. It may have been to support him, but you could still enjoy the fact that Carlos would be there, too. 

Your husband isn’t sure what he wants to do anymore. If there wasn’t an examination happening, he would have run into your private room and locked the door. Instead, his glassy eyes gaze up, catching Carlos’ dark ones. It hits him at once; his teammate, somebody who he once considered a close- no, best friend, was the one who had taken his wife away from him. His brain can’t catch up with his body movements, the red mist clouds over once more. 

Charles Leclerc punches Carlos Sainz in the nose. 

He doesn't intend for it to be a strong punch; Formula One drivers are a lot stronger than they realize, and the contact not only causes the Spaniard to knock back, shouting out in pain, but a sharp sensation rockets through Charles’ clenched fist, wiggling his fingers as they relax. Carlos’ nose is immediately red, becoming scarlet by the moment, though no blood has fallen. Your husband’s immediate reaction is ‘Should have punched him harder.’

He doesn't have time to think about anything else, not before he has two strong hands on his chest, shoving him harshly. The sudden sensation causes him to lose balance, falling to the floor and landing on his back. A shock radiates through his body, Carlos looming over him, clearly ready for a second punch. 

That thought is drawn away when the door to your room opens, both men immediately staring at the nurse, her hair worn and eyes tired. Before either man can throw a question at her, she speaks. 

“She’s still not awake, we’re going to bring her around in an hour, but she’s going to have to stay overnight for observation. If one of you could get her some overnight things-”

“I can.” Charles immediately cuts off the nurse, pulling himself to sit up and stand from the floor. “I’m her husband. I will get them.” It’s a subtle jab to the man in front of him, Carlos still holding his nose, convinced it was about to start bleeding any moment. He would have gone and sought out attention for himself, if he hadn’t felt a sharp vibration in his back pocket, a phone call. In any other time, he would have ignored it. But he knows who it is, he knows how important it is. 

Without a word, Carlos answers the call, rapidly speaking in Spanish as he walks down the hall. 

Love is a pocket square at the bottom of a suitcase.

The contrast of Charles leaving the hospital was night and day to him arriving. He hadn’t spoken a word to Joris, apart from expressing that he needed to go back to the hotel to get your overnight items. Although it was barely a ten minute drive away, every minute felt like a century; he wanted nothing more than to go back to the hotel, sit by your side and hold your hand until you woke up. 

He could have sent Joris back, given him the room key and told him to grab some things, but it didn’t seem right. The idea of his best friend going through your suitcase didn’t sit comfortably with him. Moreover, he didn’t know. Charles knew; he knew what pajamas you found the most comfortable, what outfit would be easiest for you to travel back in, how you wanted your panties and socks paired together and how your phone charger had to loop clockwise. 

The ornate hotel room looks dull without you; your suitcase still rests in the bottom of the wardrobe; you had hung up evening wear, dresses for the inevitable after-parties. Folded in your suitcase remained your other clothing. Charles is quick to select his items; the tropical cotton pajamas. You had bought him a pair in the same fabric, telling him that they would be the comfiest thing to sleep in. Your stitched jumper and comfiest jeans. You had worn those jeans when you had tagged along to his photoshoot for the Ferrari livery, holding his water and the APM Monaco jewelry he couldn’t wear. Your outrageously expensive hairbrush. You had brushed his hair through after a particularly bad race, whispering promises that it would get better, that the car was going to evolve for him, the best driver on the grid. 

Bile rises to Charles’ stomach and with no warning, he sprints to the bathroom, dropping to his knees by the toilet and throwing up the barely-there contents of his stomach. He had barely eaten, barely drank any water, but couldn’t help the sickness in his tummy. 

He pulls away from the toilet basin, eyes watery, breath trying to catch up with the speed and cries.

Charles doesn't realize it’s happening at first, he hasn’t cried like this in so long; the kind of crying where you can’t fathom words, you don’t make a sound because you’re crying so deeply. The kind where your chest is exploding and your heart feels like it’s going to explode. The kind where all he wants is for his mother to cradle him like she did when he was five, run her hands through his hair and whisper him words of comfort.

This time, he doesn't want his mother, he wants you. 

It’s selfish, it’s so incredibly selfish and it hurts to know that it’s taken him until now to realize what you mean to him. It would never happen, but his wound-up head can only close his eyes and visualize you running in, pulling his head into your chest and running your hands through his dark tufts, pressing cool lips to his forehead and promising him over and over that it was going to be okay. You were going to be okay. 

He lets himself cry for five minutes; he times it because he wants to collect your things and make his way back, Joris was waiting in the car. When the five minutes are over, he pinches his nose, taking short, ugly gasps until his eyes remain bloodshot but not blurred. The sound of the toilet flushing echoes through the hotel room, making his way out of the bathroom and to the items he had hurriedly dropped atop of your suitcase.

Nimble fingers cradle each item, carefully rolling and tucking them into a pillowcase; he didn’t have a bag big enough to suffice each item and couldn’t bring himself to bring your entire suitcase along, it almost seemed as if once you had it, you could disappear from his life. At least this way, he could have one final farewell if you chose to leave. The items are almost secure, until his grip on the pillowcase folds, glassed eyes catching a glimmer of blue hidden at the bottom of the case. With no hesitation, he pulls on the fabric. His heart drops on the realization of the item. 

It’s a pocket square. More specifically, it’s his pocket square from your wedding. 

You don’t know when you had started packing it, but you supposed it was from your mother’s own doings. After her wedding to your father, she had always carried around her ‘something blue,’ as a gesture of good luck, of safety. After the first time you had found out about Charles’ mistress, you had discreetly tucked the fabric into your bag, carrying it around, a silent hope your husband would return to you. 

It hadn’t worked in Jeddah. In Imola. In Spa. In Monaco. You had reluctantly taken it from your bag one evening, on the plane home from consoling your family, using your pen to doodle in the very corner ‘Mr and Mrs Leclerc,’ a silent fantasy of the loving marriage you had dreamed of. 

That night was the first time you and Charles ever shared a bed. 

The fabric lingers between his fingers, the blue contrasting against the silver of your ring, still resting on his pinky finger. Now changed into his own clothes, he slides the ring off, wrapping it gently in the pocket square and sliding it into his trouser pocket. As he does, he recognises your handwriting, the titles printed in the bottom of the fabric. 

He can’t help the tears rolling down his cheeks once again. 

Love is a desperate telephone call.

Carlos is still pacing around the outside courtyard of the hospital, having been on hold for a grand total of seventeen minutes. He is not a man of patience, he is not a man of quiet. 

The phone buzzing in the corridor had been a welcome call, despite the situation. His lawyer, finally ringing him back after what felt like days of apprehension. He had dipped from the public eye to try and grab hold of some privacy, slipping in his wireless headphone so as not to hold the device to his ear for hours upon hours. 

Almost thirty minutes ago, his lawyer had called him, confirming his thoughts of the previous days. 

"You're not wrong." His lawyer has already clarified it once, twice, three times. "If there is evidence beyond a shadow of a doubt, then it is the correct term for a divorce.

Carlos feels his blood run cold. He loves her, he's as certain as that as he is of the fact that the sky is blue and his win in Silverstone. The man wants nothing more than to make her feel cherished, adored. Taking a bite out of his teammate was just a bonus feature. 

That had been a few days ago, when the anger had surpassed him after Natasha’s return, how that made him look as bad, if not worse than Charles. He’d immediately sent her packing, blocked her on every form of media, gone as far as to insist if she ever came for a visit, he wouldn’t be present. 

The second part, the evidence, had been laid out all too perfectly. 

The line suddenly clicks, signaling his lawyer had returned. Carlos doesn't wait for a verbal queue, the audible sign of his return is more than enough. 

 “Do you have it?” He asks, barely any time to let the man on the other end of the phone respond. “You must have it, no? It should have been sent. I made sure it was sent.”

“I have it.” He clarifies. “I have them right here.” A rustle of paper is heard from the other end of the telephone, content of an envelope being spilled onto his desk. “Are you sure you want me to send these to be confirmed as evidence? That the women in the photographs will not retaliate?”

Carlos had not been entirely honest with you. Not about his knowledge of Charles’ situation. Ever since the confession all those months ago, the understanding that you knew of Charles’ affair, he had been playing a long, patient game. He had photographs, evidence of the mistress’ appearance at each paddock, her arms snaking around Charles’ body, kisses between the duo. How he could continue to do so, whilst you, the epitome of beauty, sat in his drivers’ room, playing the doting wife.  At one point, he had considered going directly to the press, directly to Ferrari themselves to out their ‘Golden Boy.’ 

And then…he had seen you with him in the Paddock that one race, looking through the window of his driver’s room. How your fingers latched onto one another, how genuinely shattered you looked when she had shown up yet again, lingering outside of the hospitality area. The guilt snuck through him, how he had seen her arrive, and yet failed to mention to you, give you any warning of her presence. 

Even if he had been the one to invite her. Even if he had been the one to press her about sending the photographs to Charles, not blackmail. Merely a reminder of his actions, how much he supposedly missed his mistress. 

“She wouldn’t.” He’s quick to respond. “She wouldn’t care.” He’s not wrong, his mistress being in the limelight would only elevate her status, with the way his teammates’ brain worked, it would more than likely draw them back to one another. 

“And Mrs. Leclerc?” 

It’s the first time Carlos has hesitated. Even if he couldn’t admit it to himself, he knew that your relationship with Charles had grown, that ambient it was made paper-thin, the trust was slowly beginning to come back. He thinks about how your eyes blinked widely, in awe of your husband on the podium earlier that day, how it supposedly didn’t matter he had spent most of your marriage wrapped in her arms, you still looked at him like that. Did you look at him like that? Like the way he looked at you. 

This action could draw out a multiverse of reactions but at the end of the day, he had settled with two. The first was that you understood, that you would see the evidence, and understand the case. Divorce Charles and marry him, even if it meant he would give up everything. 

The second is that you would see the chaos he caused and you would never speak to him again. 

“Mr. Sainz?” The voice at the end of the telephone draws him from his questioning, running a hand across his red, swollen nose. It wasn’t broken, but god it was hurting. Bruised, most likely. “I need an answer.” 

He needed to speak to you. 

“Can you just-” He huffs, running a hand through his dark hair, his fingers almost getting caught in the strands. Of course his hair was tangled, he’d been doing nothing but pulling on it ever since he arrived at the hospital. “Let me speak to her. Hold it for 24 hours. You can do that, yes?” It’s not even a question now, nor a request. It’s a demand. He can’t do this, he can’t openly destroy your marriage for his own sake without speaking to you, without knowing for a fact that you love him.

Your name is carved onto his soul, onto his skin. The first thing he thinks about in the morning, and the last thing he would think about at night. There is no life he wishes to live in if you’re not there. Even as his friend. 

There’s suddenly a light tap against glass, snapping the man’s attention from his device. He mumbles something in Spanish, telling his lawyer he would call him back, dreading who was coming out into the private courtyard. 

He visibly relaxes when he sees it’s just a man, sneaking out whilst tears pool on his lower lashline, giving Carlos a warming nod. 

“You don’t mind if I join you, do I?” The Spainard shakes his head. “My wife- she’s just being induced and wanted some space. She’s…” He gestures, trying to explain to a complete stranger how a few minutes ago, his wife wanted to cry and shake her head, but wanted nothing to do with him. It was all his fault. 

Carlos offers a warm hand on his back, patting him firmly. “Congratulations. Do you know what you're having?” He’s invested, anything to distract him from his previous phone call, the weight of a decision on his shoulders.

The stranger grins. “A girl.” He smiles harder. “I don’t mind, as long as they arrive happy and healthy. But god- a girl, just like her.” He thinks. Carlos thinks. In an alternative universe, he’s sat by your side, pressing kisses and praises to your skin, holding you tighter as your daughter enters the world, ready to meet her mother and father. She would be like you; your eyes, hair, smile. It would be another you to love, to adore. 

“Your first?” Carlos presses his question. The man sighs, shaking his head, shoving his hands into his pockets as he looks into the polished corridor. 

“No. She’s…” He pauses. “We got together after hiding how we felt for so long, how we wanted to be with one another.” He looks to Carlos, clearly ashamed and embarrassed of the situation. “I know how it sounds, but sometimes you can’t help it. I- I love her.” 

A band snaps in Carlos’ stomach; love knows no bounds. 

Love is waking up to think of your person.

The first thing you register when you come around is brightness. You’re not in the soft glow of the luxurious hotel room you and your husband had been given, nor the candle-lit bedroom of Carlos’ apartment. No, the light is bright, blinding. An off-white which made your eyes squint. 

Your senses are heightened; the only scent which flares through your nostrils is hand sanitiser and overpowering lilies. Nose scrunched, you attempt to wiggle your body upwards, aware of the IV line pinned into your hand. Panic immediately settled through your tummy, until your eyes flickered to the bag, realizing it was just water, they just wanted to rehydrate you. 

Hesitantly, you wiggle each part of your body. Arms, hands, fingers. You’re able to move, though you couldn’t…you couldn’t remember why you got here. Memories are hazy, you remember Charles’ podium, the way he kissed you so deeply, so lovingly. Carlos’ hand on your waist, pulling you back to stop you from the champagne trickling over your body. You were overwhelmed, overworked and…you guessed it just all became too much. 

You just about manage to turn your body, the first thing you’re aware of is that your cushion smells familiar. Warm nodes, sandalwood and seasalt. It’s a smell you’ve grown all too accustomed to, burying your face into their chest whilst you took refuge in his arms, in a hotel room. Charles had been there, already. His celebrations had clearly been cut short, whether or not it was for show or because he cared. 

The second thing is the coffee cup. Cardboard, the contents clearly already drained, but handwriting etched onto the side in a thick, black marker. The handwriting, the doodle of a tiny butterfly. Carlos had been there, too. 

There’s a sharp pinch on your cheek, fingers reach up to your skin and feel the butterfly strips against you. Immediately, a thousand questions come back to your mind, none of them being answered through your own memory. Instead, the door opens, a nurse in clean, bright uniform walking in, closing the door behind her. She beams at the realization you’re awake, shoulders relaxing. 

“You’re awake!” Her tone is incredibly warm, seemingly very happy you’ve decided to wake up on your own terms. She’s quick to move to your bedside, pressing the back of her hand to your forehead. “How are you feeling? Have you warmed up?” You’re not sure what she’s referencing, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. She takes the look on your face as unknowingness, able to fill in the gaps. 

“You collapsed on the track.” She’s trying to get through everything she needs to tell you. “We did some tests, you’re incredibly dehydrated for a start, you need to try and get some rest.” She pauses. “It’s nothing to be concerned about, we have collapses from dehydration every so often, more than you would realize.” Her eyes flicker down, finding it hard on how to phrase the next part of the question. “You also seem…incredibly worried.” You’re not sure how she could tell that from simply examining you, but you nod in confirmation. “Your blood pressure, it’s incredibly low. That’s why you fainted.”

“Yes.” You pause. How on earth were you about to explain the past twelve months to a nurse, a complete stranger? “There’s been some…reasons. You know, for the stress.” Her eyes soften, but the questioning continues. 

“Are you trying for a baby?” You shake your head. “Moving house?” A shake. “Have you…lost somebody recently.” 

You freeze, memory flickering to your mother, how in the midst of fixing your marriage, discovering your affection towards another, she had disappeared from the world. This time, you nod your head, drawing your knees up to your body, shivering. The nurse is quick to wrap a blanket over your shoulders, closer to the answer. 

“I lost my mother.” You breathe out, shaking your head. “I lost my mother, and she’s the only one I can go to.” Now you’ve started speaking, you can’t finish. “I want to make them happy. I want to make him happy.” There’s tears glassing over your eyes.

You want him. You want him right now. 

She sympathizes, she understands. “Sometimes, all you need is for them to tell you it’s going to be okay, right?” She lets her words trail off, turning to the door of your room. “He’s outside. He’s been waiting to see you.”

Your blood freezes.

“Would you like me to get him?” 

You nod before you’ve even realized, your body clearly knows better than your mind. The nurse stands up straight, pacing towards the door as you feel your heart begin to race harder, frantically. She steps out of the room, a minute mumble on the other side, clearly a warning to be incredibly careful. It’s barely a minute before the door swings back open, dark hair and frantic panting. 

You glance up, your heart softens at those eyes. 

The eyes that you, the reader, wanted to see as you glanced to the door.

GREEN EYES [CL16 Ending]

BROWN EYES [CS55 Ending]

This is everyone who asked to be tagged! @Mac-daddy-210 @aundercover@barnestatic@omgsuperstarg@chimchimjiminie16@caelum-the-part-time-nihilist @magicalcowboyarbiter @gaslasysblog@junetto @beatrizmel-472 @motorsp0rt@crowdthena@screemqueen@lewislvr@styles-sunflower@itspaddockprincess@adeptustemptations @amalialeclerc @meetmyblondemuffins@formulanando@lorarri@christianpulisic10@gaypoetsblog@thisbitxhs-blog@goldsainz@ru-kru@magical-spit@hrlzy@nooshytushie@gaslysainz@marvel-at-stucky@sugarvibez@adeptustemptations@roseseraj@leclercdream@pjofics@hecatesfavoritechild@poseforme@thisbitxhs-blog @adalynneva @meganlikes2purr @sabrinaselina55 @laneyspaulding19@heavenlyiecreature@pink-teddy-bear@nooshytushie@strawberries-and-racing@milasexutoire@ohthemisssery@florkt@obsessedwiththeideaofyou@ru-kru@myhomeworksnotdone@ineedafictionalman@bregarc@allywthsr@summerslike11@wildcupcake@willowpains@marlenamallowan@leclercloml@katzenwahnsinn@be-your-coffee-pot

[svt-rosalie]

. . . ♡ ROSIE ! ? 🐰 HEADCANNONS ★ ﾟ๑

ׁ ׅ ୨ ❪ part two! ❫ ୧ ⊹ ࣪

© 2024 , svt-rosalie rosalie masterlist!

notes! this is a part two to this ask from a while ago. i’ve had the maknae line version be requested twice so here it is! i hope you like it.

i can see you, girl

everything is all about you

all about you, ateez

୭ৎ ࣪ ׅ dokyeom

seokminnie would always help jihye relax and destress after school or training

they would go to a park that was near their shared dormitory and when rosie would get on the swing, dokyeom would push her as high as she could go

her giggles and squeals of her telling him to push her higher up was his favorite part of the day

they’d be out all day to be honest if it wasn’t for seungcheol finding them every time before dinner

the hanging out wouldn’t stop at the park no

they would continue to hang out and play games inside of rosalie’s room

rosalie’s dad had bought her a bunch of board games for her birthday and had them shipped to the dorm so she could play with all the boys

so dokyeom and jihye would constantly be playing connect four, hungry hungry hippo, and rosalie’s favorite game monopoly

they’d be up into the night if they could!

but one time jihye fell asleep while laying on her stomach to play one of the games and so the 95 liners put the cut off time for games at 8 o’clock

୭ৎ ࣪ ׅ mingyu

despite how much they argued and fought

mingyu always would cheer her up and bring her mood to 100%

mingyu could tell rosalie was stressed with school and training so he would do her work for her so she could simply just relax

but don’t tell anybody about that, rosie hated when he did it for her. she felt like a cheater but he reassured her that it was fine and this stuff was easy (it was not easy, she was in advanced classes and he had to look up how to do half of her work)

mingyu would often leave snacks on her bed for when she got home from school knowing how much of a snacker she was

he would invite her to play games with him to cheer her up after not making a high score on a test

they would often cause a huge ruckus in the dorm rooms from being too loud when playing together

the two would take walks together, to forget about everything

mingyu ALWAYS and i mean always went to important events for rosalie, she is his annoying little sister but he always wanted to be there for her and encourage her to keep going further in life

he’s still like that to this day even though he picks on her more then he would like to admit

୭ৎ ࣪ ׅ minghao

despite the language barrier these two were and still are extremely close.

rosalie is a very lovable person, so she kinda drew minghao in like a magnet to metal

minghao took her as a naive person (not in a horrible way, but the girl was a pre-teen when they met) and wanted to protect that

so he kept her away from social media and any person who wanted to shout nasty, harsh things at her.

he knew the curse words in korean and grew to understand the comments people would make about her body and her singing

as cheesy as it sounds he would cover her ears when they went out in public stating to rosie that he did it so her ears wouldn’t hurt from all the yelling and shouting from the fans and fansites

rosie grew to appreciate and understand why minghao does and treats her the way he does compared to everyone else

୭ৎ ࣪ ׅ seungkwan

boo seungkwan was one of rosalie’s first ever friends in south korea

that’s how he took care of rosie, but being there for her

to be honest, rosalie wasn’t very well liked by the other female trainee’s at pledis so seungkwan always stuck up for her and treated her a equal

anytime rosalie was overwhelmed by her emotions and needed a shoulder to lean on seungkwan was always there no matter if he was overwhelmed as well

he would always compliment her singing and dancing stating that she was one of the best he’s ever seen in a long time

rosie would be connected to seungkwan’s (and dino) side anytime during the week

if you needed her check with seungkwan, they are probably gossiping about the newest thing that happened at school

or they are at down the street eating some korean street food that was payed with rosalie’s weekly allowance from her parents

seungkwan is and will always be someone rosalie depends on to get through the day

now that they are older and they aren’t in the dorms anymore, seungkwan always calls to make sure she’s doing okay and if she needs anything to always call him

୭ৎ ࣪ ׅ vernon

vernon is straight up just vernon

but he always acted like a big brother to rosalie

he would pick on her and take her things just to upset her and deny her ever did that

he’d take a big bite from her snack even though she said he could take a tiny bite

vernon would tease her about the little things that he knew she wouldn’t take offensive (he never disrespected her and if he did he apologized after realizing)

but vernon also checked on her to make sure she wasn’t hiding anything was bothering and would sit with her at night and let her cry about how much she missed her parents

despite her being half korean, she felt so foreign like she didn’t belong just because she was also half french. vernon comforted her endless nights about her worries and troubles

vernon helped her embrace herself when they first debuted and made sure she didn’t crawl into a shell of herself like so many thought rosalie would do

honestly, vernon is one of the reasons rosalie contained to be an idol

vernon treated her like a sister but took care of her like a friend

୭ৎ ࣪ ׅ dino

these two were two peas in a pod during pre-debut and debut

again if rosalie wasn’t with seungkwan, she was with dino. probably doing homework together, going to the comic book store that was 20 minutes away, rough housing at the playground, or taking a nap together

dino was such a rock and a grounding piece for rosalie during this time and he still is

he didn’t realize he was helping rosalie as much as he was but nobody minds

dino always stuck up for rosalie at school when other girls would pick on her over her height and facial structure

he would always say “you look a cute baby bunny, they are just jealous they can’t have you cause i do!” it was such an innocent joke but rosalie took it so seriously

she knew if she didn’t anyone, she would always have chan

during dinner they always sat together and talked and laughed about the most random things

everyone else was confused on what else they had to talk about because they see each other all day and then sleep in the same room so what more was there??

well nothing really but they didn’t mind, it was really just being together that made everything better for them

rosalie didn’t stress about training when dino was around because they always encouraged each other that they were doing amazing

everything dino did was for rosalie, weather he realized it or not

click here to join rosie’s taglist’

taglist — @angie-x3 @alixnsuperstxr @allthings-fandoms @peachyaeger @sakufilms @aysxldea @swagcandyfun @wonwooz1 @s4nsmoon @seolarzone @miyx-amour @novwonia @marissa-11 @magicsoyeon @skzfairies @btskzfav @vhsdolly @iamawkwardandshy @yaebbinnie @conniesbbymama @jihoonsbbygirl @kaitieskidmore97 @cheolsboo @mars11rules67 @svt-manon

[retrocesosdestacion]

ALCOHOLIC LIES. | keira walsh

keira walsh x williamson!reader

genre: minor funny fluff, surprised love.

warnings: leah being made a fool, reader leah's younger sister, without many touches, not a romance-focused fic, drunk r.

notes: finally started writing again, i really wanted to write keira and r totally in love but i didn't have a better idea, soo i just made leah and r fight + defending her girlfriend. request

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: It's okay to date your sister's friend, right? Just keep it a secret... If you can.

“Every day I fall in love with you more and more. Except yesterday, yesterday you were pretty annoying.”

Earl E. Bird

❝ Hey, enough of that now, [reader]. ❞ Keira said as she removed the glass of alcohol from your fingers.

Reddened cheeks, sore expressive marks from the smile printed for so long and of course, the smell of the classic beer between the lips.

❝ Just one more round, please. ❞ The sly tone came out deliberately from your mouth, while you firmly grabbed one of the english's arms.

❝ Leave the child. It's been a while since she touched a bottle of alcohol. ❞ Stanway said between chuckles, also drinking.

❝ No?! Leah will kill me if she sees that I let her drink so much. ❞ It was very clear how desperate she was. ❝ And well… You know. ❞

❝ About the fact that she's going to go crazy not just because of this? ❞ The other english asked.

❝ Exactly. ❞

❝ I already said that Leah doesn't have to interfere in my life. ❞ You grumbled at your girlfriend’s negligence.

❝ Don't say it like that... ❞ Walsh was practically defending the english defender's side.

In fact, you were a little to blame for this whole situation and Keira was right. You should have told your sister from the first day you started dating.

And that's been five months.

It could even be a record, you could never keep a secret for that long. One day or another, Leah will find out.

❝ What the fuck are you whispering my name now? ❞ A mature and feminine voice rose from the beginning of the division between the living room and the kitchen.

❝ Nothing of your interest. ❞ You shout louder than usual.

Georgia and Keira burst into giggles at your sudden cheer.

The four of you were in Stanway's apartment, which was one of the main meeting points for drinks almost every weekend.

Leah and you were the famous dynamic duo of sisters, while the blonde english has a very strong personality, you are the complete opposite.

Seriously, it was actually a shock to Stanway when you took on Keira; You had gotten a girlfriend even before your older sister.

You two were also mostly known for fighting a lot; not just on the pitch. The defender is a completely protective woman when it comes to you.

Maybe because of her protective parental instinct; the fear of being hurt or even for reasons that Leah never told you.

And currently, Leah knowing about you and Keira would probably be the worst thing in the world. First, you lied to her and second, you're dating one of her friends.

❝ Gossiping about others is bad, you know? ❞ The older english made fun of your whispering to the girls, while bringing another bowl of snacks and placing it on top of the central table.

❝ I thought you said you didn’t care about other people’s opinions? ❞ You replied back.

❝ Shut up. ❞ Despite everything, Leah sometimes had a typical stupid attitude. ❝ Didn't you say you had already stopped drinking for today? ❞

Leah looked at Keira across the table, indirectly expecting some answer. After all, she was the one in charge of taking care of you.

❝ I tried. ❞ Walsh defended herself.

❝ Can you stop being like this? ❞ Your lips gestured in a sullen tone.

❝ There are two people older than you here and neither can take a drink from you. ❞ Leah was at least right.

❝ She's not seventeen anymore, Leah. ❞ Stanway opined. ❝ And theoretically it is you who should do this. ❞

Keira turned her eyes to you, eyes that conveyed the only understandable message: begging to stop drinking in Leah's company.

Pout with the lower lips, gradually turning into a short smile. Walsh's concern and advocacy was incredibly adorable.

It's a shame you can't give her a kiss in return.

❝ Okay, do whatever you want, then. ❞ The older blonde clearly didn't want to stress about the whole situation. The responsibility is yours from now on.

❝ Sheesh, you are worse than mom. ❞ You bantered.

❝ Fuck you? ❞ Leah grumbled, snacking on a snack from the bowl.

❝ You go. ❞ You countered.

It slowly turned into an exchange of insults, Walsh and Stanway just watched.

❝ You get ridiculously boring when you drink. ❞

❝ And you don't even have to touch alcohol to know that about you. ❞ That clearly must have hurt Leah inside. Mainly because of her open-mouthed expression.

Georgia tried to put an end to this. ❝ Can you two stop— ❞

❝ Get someone to be your personal babysitter before you say anything. ❞ The English defender spoke louder.

❝ I already have it. ❞ You said without thinking twice.

A regretful silence fell in the living room. And within seconds, you realized the shit you had said; your eyes almost explained.

It was very clear the reductive fear and surprise that hit Keira, especially because her face slowly turned towards you, in disbelief at what you said.

Everything went down the drain.

Stanway was different, she giggled. Because she knew exactly what was coming. ❝ Oh, shit. ❞ She murmured between giggles.

❝ Huh? ❞ It was a pretty loud noise, to be realistic. Eyebrows raised, lips half-open, Leah gradually seemed to squint, trying to understand. ❝ How is that? ❞

It took you exactly seven seconds to formulate some justification. ❝ I meant… ❞

❝ …You. ❞ You cleared your throat before saying that.

And Leah clearly didn't buy it.

❝ Shut up, liar. ❞ Williamson slowly came back to reality. ❝ Who? ❞

❝ Who what? ❞ Don't look to Keira, don't look to Keira, don't look to Keira. Play dumb.

❝ Don't act stupid. ❞ Leah replied.

Walsh kept contact with the glass on the table, touching her index finger to the rim of the glass as she begged you not to say anything. The last thing Keira would want was to die in Stanway's messy apartment.

Leah looked at Georgia. What no one told you is that Stanway can't keep secrets in front of Williamson. ❝ Did you know that? ❞

❝ Yes…? ❞ She replied.

And the defender looked at you again. Now worse, you told everyone in your social circle except Leah.

❝ You too? ❞ Referencing Walsh.

Anyone could confirm that she was very nervous. She avoided contact at first instance, and as Keira was at your side; her free fingers played with yours, anxiously under the table.

She just nodded in agreement.

❝ Why didn't you fucking tell me? ❞ Leah grumbled in her own way.

❝ Because you would be harassing me my whole life. ❞ You answered for Keira. In the first few weeks from now on, Williamson will make fun of you a lot. ❝ And you are very threatening. ❞

❝ No, I'm not. ❞ She defends herself. You were turning Leah into a children's story villain.

You looked back at Keira. The alcohol was like a river in your body, alcohol was so effective that it made you the most shameless person in the world. And you must do this.

❝ It's Keira. ❞ You gestured your lips without any fear.

Eyes wide, eyebrows raised and so scared that she seemed to have heard the worst thing in the world; what it actually had been. ❝ What?! ❞

It had been so sudden that Walsh didn't believe it the first time. You crossed your arm around her neck, bringing her closer to you.

If Leah had the onset of a heart attack, you can be sure she would have had an attack right then and there. It wasn't like she didn't like you dating, in fact, Williamson was just afraid of the consequences.

But the fact that Walsh's name was mentioned instead of someone stupid or unknown relieved Leah.

The english defender knew her, which meant she also had knowledge of her previous relationships. And to be honest, Keira Walsh was the best person to date.

However, at the moment, this information was not very useful. Especially when your field of vision only had Leah in shock.

❝ Are you fucking my sister? ❞ Williamson desperately released the words from his lips.

❝ Fucking is a very bad word. ❞ Keira murmured back.

Again, silence remained in the middle of the table. Stanway just blatantly watched the three of you argue, you hugged Walsh with one arm and Leah seemed to think about her words.

❝ Fine. ❞ Leah said with an understandable intonation.

❝ Fine? ❞ You questioned back, after all, such an attitude from your sister was the least expected.

❝ It could be worse, for example, if it were Geo. ❞ This caused Stanway to choke on her own drink, forcing the glass onto the table.

❝ Hey! ❞

Leah stretched her arms and laid her back completely on the floor, grunting, probably tired from all this.

You looked first at Stanway, who still seemed affected by the blonde's comment, wiping her mouth; your eyes moved to Keira's face, giving her a victorious smile.

Your arm used to pull your girlfriend away, slowly moving towards Walsh's long fingers and intertwining them. ❝ You was the only one who didn't know, but now everything is great. ❞ You reported it.

❝ What? Was I the last to know? Why always me?! ❞ Leah stood up so quickly that her knees hit the bottom of the table.

❝ To be honest, I was going to tell you once, but you never have patience. ❞ Keira replied. ❝ And you would probably hit me with a chair for dating [reader]. ❞ The english bantered, but there was a little truth in her speech.

❝ No, never! I just think it's funny that you started dating before me. ❞ Leah said pointing at you. ❝ Anyway, I hope you don't do anything bad. ❞ Williamson spoke in a not-so-enthusiastic tone indirectly to you know who.

Walsh was finally able to rest her face on the side of your neck, crossing one of her arms over yours for support. ❝ You've known me for years! It feels bad to say something like that to me. ❞ She murmured.

The three of them laughed, it was the typical humor of long-time friendships that you weren't used to yet.

Leah coming to terms with your relationship was a huge relief. You placed a peck on the top of Keira's head before hugging her. ❝ We should celebrate Leah not killing us… You know. ❞ You sounded like a drunk.

❝ This is just an excuse to drink more, right? ❞ Yes, exactly. Stanway was right.

Williamson rolled her eyes before pushing the last bottle of beer onto the table. ❝ Ask your babysitter for permission. ❞

❝ Leah! ❞

❝ What? ❞ The defender said between laughs.

❝She's not my babysitter. ❞

Of course, Keira Walsh no longer needed to hide behind the playful nicknames that Leah always gives. After all, she was now your girlfriend; no more secrets.

[keruimi]

The Way Back to Him

Sanemi x reader

Warning! Heavy Angst with comfort at the end

Note: I went overboard that I'm not sure if all of you would accept the leads🥹 Early Apologies. Secondly, please inform me if Sanemi's character is too ooc. I would gladly do better next time.

~•°•~

I fell in love with the person who had a painful backstory.

__________________

"Sanemi-san, my apologies but I can't return your feelings" she muttered as I sighed and leaned my back on the wall. I notice how her grip tightens on her uniform.

"I know. Because everyone sees me as rude, it's impossible to admire my personality at all" I started before standing back up so I can walk back to my estate to rest.

"Sanemi-san, it's not like that" she exclaimed as I just looked away from her.

"Don't worry, I just want you to know about the emotions I am feeling when I'm around you. I don't expect you to return it at all" I manage to stutter out without putting most of my emotions as I saw how her eyes start to gloss.

"I..." She didn't have the heart to tell what she is thinking that made me thought to leave already.

The atmosphere is overwhelming me...

"I'll retire first" I slightly bow in her direction before turning my back at her.

"Sanemi-san!" She shouted my name that made me halt from my steps, I didn't manage to go farther yet.

Maybe because I didn't have the heart to leave her yet...

"Maybe a part of it was my reason" she stated as I felt her quick breaths while I just looked at the empty road in front of me.

"But I don't know you better than you did. I don't know your story" I felt my chest tighten on her words.

"So forgive me if I can't tolerate your impulsive and abrasive attitude that you displayed to all of us"

I turn my body to the side so I can glance at her who is looking down while trying to get a hold of herself.

"If I did..." I trailed off that made her raise her head to look at me who is facing her.

If I did...

There's a huge possibility that she would see me in a different way than the world did.

But...

"Nevermind" I didn't continue anymore before making my way back to my estate as I left the atmosphere in silence.

There is still that slight chance that she wouldn't.

Storytelling would just open their eyes to your perspective. But it wouldn't bring them the same reasons why you did it.

I need physical evidence... An evidence that can prove my love to her.

But I don't know how I can show those emotions without losing the walls I build around myself.

The walls I used to prevent myself from forgetting her.

I arrived back home and my brother decided to ruin my eardrums for the third time today.

"You confessed again! Stop fooling yourself!" He screamed and an irk mark appeared on my forehead.

"Why don't you shut up you idiot!" I screamed back at him as I harshly threw a pillow in his direction before slumping back down on the couch as my thoughts wandered around until my little brother began to speak, more serious now.

"But Big brother, you still haven't forget about her. You can't push yourself to other women when your mind is always on her! That is unfair to them!"

I look down and thought about the words he keep repeating every time this happen.

I want to move on...

Every time my heart seems to catch on a different woman other than my first love.

I convinced myself that I love them but it was never enough.

I silently went back to my room after my brother tried to register his words to my mind but it didn't help me at all.

After all, I start believing she left because she still have dreams.

Our love is the only reason to stay but she has more reasons to choose the future she planned for herself.

I tiredly grumble to myself and thinking about her just reminds her warmth on my bed.

For goodness sake Sanemi, pull yourself together.

After the sudden meeting with the Master, I decided to take a stroll in the garden to calm my nerves down on the Kamado Siblings.

No matter what, she is still a demon. The blood of those monsters is already running on her body. That won't change anything.

I stop ranting on my brain when I notice there's another presence in the garden other than me.

In that one part of the garden, I notice the visible figure of a lady who seems to be in her own world, picking some useless flowers.

I raised an eyebrow on her actions before walking towards her and my footsteps immediately warned her about my presence as she stood up from the dirt before looking back to face me.

I don't know what has gotten to me but it feels like everything became slow motion the moment she turned around to look at me.

Her hair flows with the wind as her green orbs gaze at my own.

She looks like a beautiful memory.

"What are you doing? Aren't you aware which territory you are trespassing?" I ignored how my heartbeat quickened as I looked at the small basket she was holding.

She lifted a gentle smile before bowing to me.

"I was tasked to pick up herbs from any garden by Shinobu-san. My apologies if I startled you by my presence"

Such a gentle voice from a woman like her. I thought she would stammer or even become jolly like the other servants I came across.

Yet she manages to compose herself in front of someone more superior.

"What's your status in the Butterfly Mansion?"

I asked her as she properly stood up before answering me. "I am the provider of the herbs used in the medicines"

I nod before she went back to what she was previously doing. Out of nowhere she lent me a damn flower.

What would I do with this?

"That is Lavender. It helps with stress, my Lord"

She informed me even though I didn't ask yet. My frown deeper as I held my back on throwing and stomping on it.

"How can you make sure that I'm stressed?" I ask her as she just shrugged her shoulder before showing me a playful smile.

"Well, it's really up to you if you will admit it" she confidently answered.

Point taken...

Unknowingly, I have the urge to get to know her better. Even if it was against my wishes, my human emotions is also not giving in to my plans in life.

I'm already fine with flings but it seems like fate have other plans.

I knew I fucked up when I started to look for her presence. Yearn and longed for it.

And if I found her, we spend most of our time together in the garden because I got to know that it was also her habit to teach about the herbs she is collecting.

Sometimes, she is the one who can relax my nerves without even the herb she is giving to me.

I knew I was already sinking deeper in this uncontrollable emotion.

That I want her to stay, stay beside me.

But I don't know if I can give her the happy ending that is impossible to achieve.

When my job is to annihilate the lurking demons in the land. Too dangerous to settle down.

Yet even I tried to deny, oppose, or even refuse my developing feelings for her, there is already a change in my character before I manage to prevent it.

That I want her to be with me.

And that led me to me telling my growing feelings for her. And how can I hope she would like me back?

I still remember her words as clear as now.

"I don't like your character, My Lord. Your harsh and cruel attitude. I can't tolerate it but I know there are reasons" she started as I listen to every word she has to say.

"But that is the problem too, I don't know your story, I don't know you. So I am not sure if I can manage loving you."

Her words are full of honesty and no ounce of playing. She stated her reasons and I accept every word of it.

I decided to court her that day.

In two years, I showed her my weakness, I told her my fears, I shared my reasons.

I fell first, and I fell harder

I love how her mind was opened and her ears are ready to listen.

Every single second I fell in love deeper with her until she finally accepted me as her partner.

It made me so happy, Shinobu just ruined it.

"Are, Are? I don't accept it" she told me that an irk mark appeared on my forehead.

I don't know if she is annoying me or just wants to be sadistic. I heard her sigh that made me realize she is serious.

"Sanemi, Y/n became a close friend of mine too. On your reputation for the past years, how can I be assured you would not hurt her nor break her heart?" I can feel the care she has for my partner that made me give a pat on her shoulder.

"That would not happen"

"You better be or I will kill you"

And I continue to love her, if possible, even fall deeper.

Sometimes it scared me too. I am aware that she is becoming my weakness. And every night it scared me that one day, she would leave me.

But her kisses, her gazes, and her embrace held my biggest fear away from me. I loved her even if the world end.

That was a promise I tried to keep.

"Hun?" She called me as I lingered kisses on her exposed shoulder as our naked bodies warmed each other.

I hummed and put my attention back to her and notice she is thinking of something deep.

I snake my arms around her waist before I pull her closer to me so I can lay my head on her shoulders. "What's bothering you?"

I ask her. She hesitated to open up to me that made me squeeze her hands as she let out a long breathe.

"Would you allow me to leave? So I can pursue my dreams?" She ask me and I felt my whole body froze from her words as she turned to look at me with worried look in her face.

It felt like a knife just stabbed me without letting me react.

"Am I not your dream?" I decided to tease to lighten the atmosphere around us. But she just squeezed my hands indicating she was seriously asking me.

Yet the small smile on my lips never leaves. It hurted me, really. But I don't own her.

I just love her...

"Do you need to leave just to reach it?" I ask her as I tuck a strand of her hair behind her ear.

Do you really need to leave me?

"Yes" she whispered before looking away so she won't see my face.

"Would you come back?" I asked her as I tried to prepare my heart for her answer yet silence was the only thing I heard.

I can feel the ache in my chest as I just hid my face on her shoulder.

I can't make her stay at all.

It made me question so many things, so many memories of ours. Why would she give my love a second chance if she will not stay in the end.

That was my first question.

And it can be a reason to hate her.

But I didn't have the strength to. I can't hate her, not even one bit.

"Big Brother" I heard Genya call for me, trying to get my attention as I daydream again on the same garden where I first met her.

The moment she left, the taste of bitterness never left my life. Every single day, I could never forget the person who is my first time in so many things.

Chisuzu Y/n

How can you break me so easily? Why is it easy for you to abandon me?

You were my universe, you were my world.

And you left me for a dream you could have pursued with me. Why? Out of all ways for you to hurt me, do you need to leave me completely?

What can you do Shinobu?

When your friend was the one who broke me.

"Big Brother" my younger brother called for me again. "What" It was an irritated answer and both of us knew.

I would barely keep my past self from coming back again.

I became the same person as three years ago before I met her. Realizing I felt this heartbreak because I made her my weakness.

And it was my biggest mistake.

"Slow down Sanemi. You might lose yourself if you get too drunk" I heard Tengen's words but I keep going as they just didn't bother stopping anymore.

I drowned my sorrows, I buried my pain. Yet it always ends on the same thoughts lingering on my mind.

I gave her everything, but she left me with nothing but memories.

I want her back beside me...

~•°•~

"You want to become a swordsman with that lousy tactic? You hope to become better yet you are not doing anything for it. You think you can easily pray for it and they will bless it to you?" I exclaimed to one of my students as the others stayed silent. The anger in my tone was evident that I might explode any minute because of frustrations.

"Get a grip on yourself and do better!" I shouted before the student bow and accepted my words.

"Brother" I heard Genya behind me, his tone was not the usual serious one, it was more shock and worried.

Did someone die?

"What?" I asked him with slight annoyance in my tone.

"She is back..." I felt my world stop as I didn't have the guts to look at him.

But I felt how my gaze softened even at the slight mention of her. I felt my heart quicken like the first time we met but I still didn't bother to move from my place as I tightly held on sword.

"Are you not planning to welcome her? She is now on the Butterfly Mansion..." He informed me as I huffed out in disbelief.

I don't have the heart to. All the pain I felt when she left me was still evident, was still present and felt.

But she was the first one who decided to approach me.

"Hun..." I heard her gentle call of our nickname as I felt her hand snake around my body as she laid her head on my back.

"I'm back"

I felt my eyes sting as tears started welling up on it.

I don't want to turn around, I don't want to break again.

"I'm sorry for leaving you" she murmurs as I feel my hands touch hers.

"I can't hate you..." I finally spoke out as I turned around to face her. Nothing has changed for the past two years she left.

Two years that felt like a decade.

"I'm sorry Sanemi. It was selfish of me to leave" she admitted as she tightly clung to me.

"I almost lost it" I stuttered out as the ache in my pain never left.

But I was glad

She returned back to me, safe and sound.

"I won't leave anymore. Above anything, I would always come back to you. Only you till the end." She muttered before she tipped toe to land a kiss on my lips.

"Forgive me..." She asked with her gentle gaze towards me.

And how can I resist?

"So many people already told me that you were not worth it" I cried out as I lost the strength to keep standing in front of her as she kept holding on to me.

We were both alone, crying out the pain of our hearts.

"I don't want to give up our love even though I feel like I was the only one fighting for it" I tightly clutch to her as she offered me her shoulders to cry on.

"You became a villain to everyone's eyes but you were my hero, you made me become a better person when you were here" my sobs were uncontrollable that if anyone was watching, I would lose the reputation of the heartless mentor.

But the only thing I could think of was her.

"Y/n, I really love you... I really do"

"I know, I know that very well..." It was evident in her tone that she was trying to hold herself back from crying.

I don't have the heart for revenge, nor the heart to hate her. Because our lives are short, I don't want to waste it on another long journey of pain anymore.

We can always restart again...

And I'm willing to do it as long as it was with her...

[daisynik7]

The Takada-Chan Mall Concert

Pairing: Aoi Todo x f!reader

Rating: Mature

Word Count: ~2.1k

cw: explicit language, suggestive dialogue, switching POVs (reader is in 2nd person, Todo is in 3rd)

Summary: Your first ever Takada-Chan concert doesn't go as planned.

Author's Notes: Hello everybody, here's the first chapter! Just a few background details - Todo is 22, already graduated from Kyoto Jujutsu High, and is working as a full-fledged Jujutsu Sorcerer. Reader is also 22, graduated from university, taking the summer off before starting work in the fall. Likes, reblogs, and/or comments are always appreciated, thank you for reading!

Masterlist | Next Chapter

The day has finally arrived: Your very first Takada-Chan concert! You’ve been dreaming of this ever since you started following the pop idol a few years ago, during the start of university. Although some would consider you a relatively new fan, your love and dedication to the Tall Idol is unmatched, you’re sure of it. You know her favorite food (goatfish), her favorite drink (room temperature sake), her favorite color (black), her blood type (AB negative)…The list goes on and on. 

It’s the summer before you officially start your big girl job in the fall. College has kicked your ass the past 4 years, so you treat yourself with a well-deserved summer break. Now, you have the next three months to attend every possible Takada event near you, starting with this concert. She’s hosting a very exclusive performance at the mall in her hometown, which is conveniently only 15 minutes away from you. Tickets sold out online within minutes, but you managed to snag two for you and your best friend, Sara, who only agreed to go with you to keep you company. She understands that these types of events can be…well, as she puts it bluntly:

“A sausage-fest.”

She stares at you with her arms crossed as you pack your bag with binoculars and a mini sign with Takada’s face on it. “Ugh, binoculars? Really? The concert is in a mall, you’ll see her just fine!”

“You never know! I just want to be prepared.”

“I still don’t get why you’re so obsessed with this woman,” Sara says, rolling her eyes. “It’s not like you’re in love with her or anything.”

You smile at your friend. “I know, but she’s just so cool. I love her confidence! And her music is so catchy, even you can’t deny that.”

She rolls her eyes again, chuckling. “Yeah okay, her music is pretty good. But I don’t think you’re fully prepared for how much of a sausage-fest this is gonna be.”

“I don’t care. No man is getting in my way today. Us girls are going to stick together. Women supporting women!”

‘Yeah yeah, I’m still bringing my brass knuckles though.”

~~~

The day has finally arrived: Todo’s first Takada-Chan concert of the summer. He’s been to 9 concerts already, including the 4 he’s imagined in his head. There’s no doubt in his mind that it’s going to be the best one yet.

He bought an extra ticket for his bestie and brother, Yuji Itadori, who’s currently at the mall, saving a spot for him while he finishes getting ready. He inspects himself in the mirror, flexing his biceps smiling, very satisfied with his appearance. With one more quick armpit check, he heads out. At the mall, there’s already dozens of people surrounding the windows, trying to sneak a peek inside. “Ha, you dweebs didn’t get tickets in time,” Todo says smugly, waving his tickets in everyone’s face while he goes through the entrance.

The mall is packed with people waiting for the pop idol’s performance. He finds the area where the stage is and scans the crowd until he spots spiky pink hair near the front. “Brother!” he yells, making his way through the sea of people effortlessly, getting a few shouts of protest from some smaller randoms.

Yuji looks up from his phone, greeting him with a smile. “Hey Todo! Man, it’s packed! Didn’t think this many people liked Takada-Chan.”

“Brother, don’t say something so stupid like that again. Of course a lot of people like Takada-Chan.” He slaps Yuji’s back hard, causing the shorter boy to stumble forward slightly.

“Geez, okay, I get it! When is this thing supposed to start, anyways? I’m meeting Kugisaki to go shopping.”

Todo scrolls through his phone, checking Twitter. “Takada-Chan tweeted 20 minutes ago that she’s on her way. Look at her, so adorable.” He shows him his phone, playing a video of the idol doing her signature Taka-Tan Beam, gazing at it lovingly.

Yuji laughs. “Okay, well, I’m gonna go now before this thing gets too crazy. See ya!” He squeezes himself through the crowd as Todo continues to admire Takada’s video on repeat.

~~~

You walk back to the stage area, two corn dogs in hand, when your phone buzzes, displaying a text from Sara. We’ve got a problem.

Your heart sinks as you speed walk faster through the mall, simultaneously stress-eating the food in your grip. It’s only been 10 minutes since you offered to get food for you and Sara while waiting for the concert to begin. What kind of disastrous complication could have occurred in this miniscule amount of time?! 

You approach the concert area, the hoard bigger and louder compared to when you left. Sara is near the front of the stage, so you push your way in, stepping through until you hit a wall.

Wait, it’s not a wall.

It’s a person. A very tall and muscular man.

Ah, the problem.

He doesn’t even flinch when you run headfirst into his back, like he didn’t feel it. You rub your forehead, turn your head to face Sara on your left, smirking. “Looks like you literally ran into our problem.”

You’re furious. This guy is MASSIVE. He’s got a least a foot on you, height-wise. But he’s also ripped with muscles. You can’t see above him or around him. All you see is his back muscles. It doesn’t help that the entire audience is packed like sardines, so tight you can’t move to either side of him for a better view. "What happened?” you ask, panicked. “This guy wasn't here before.” You hand a corn dog to Sara, grimacing at the man before you.

"I guess the pink haired dude in front of us saved this guy's spot." She points the corn dog towards him, whispering, “Should I stick my brass knuckles in him? Maybe that will get him to move.”

Naturally, being afraid of confrontation and violence, you respond, "No, no. You’ll get in trouble for that. Let me just talk to him, I guess.”

Sara munches on her treat while you clear your throat, reaching up to poke his shoulder, with no response. You poke a little harder this time and still nothing.

“He’s like a fucking brick wall or something,” you mutter to Sara, who only giggles. With a closed fist, you pound on his back, as if knocking on a door, a very beefy, sturdy door. Finally, he cranes his neck to face you, eyebrows raised.

“Um, hello. Do you think you can move a little? You’re blocking our view.”

This guy doesn’t even have the audacity to turn his body around. He just peers over his shoulder, saying, “Nope,” facing forward again, completely disregarding you.

“So you’re just going to block our view the whole time?” you remark, annoyed. 

He scoffs, still not looking at you. “Not my problem.”

Who is this fucking jerk?!

From the corner of your eye, you notice Sara brandishing her brass knuckles, ready to pounce. You shield her with your arm, stopping her. “Don’t. Let’s just wait and see what happens when Takada-Chan comes out.” You feel like you’re stuck between a rock and a hard place. Literally.

A few minutes pass and the crowd around you starts screaming in excitement. Takada-Chan must be walking on stage now, though you wouldn’t know because this guy’s back is taking up your entire view. The rest of the fans are so squished together that you’re practically nose-to-back with this guy. Luckily, he has no body odor; he actually smells quite nice.

“Can you see anything?” you ask Sara.

“Yeah, she’s on stage now. She’s just waving to the crowd as her mic gets set up.”

“What is she wearing?”

“A red and white baseball tee with flared jeans that has jewels on the side,” Sara answers.

You pout. “Ugh, she’s so cool! If only I could see her!”

“Let’s switch spots, c’mon.” Sara tries to move behind you as you shift to your left. Music plays and Takada-Chan starts singing her current smash hit “Love Gem”, which you are absolutely obsessed with. Now in a position to actually see your favorite idol, you retrieve the Takada sign out of your bag, ready to enjoy the concert. Before you can, the jerk in front of you begins swaying side-to-side in time with the music, singing loudly, and badly. Every time he swings to the left, your view gets obscured again. You shoot a look to Sara, who just laughs at your misfortune. 

You try your best to appreciate the rest of the performance, getting glimpses of the pop idol whenever the swaying moron moves out the way. When it’s over, Takada-Chan delivers her signature Taka-Tan Beam, resulting in shrieks of glee from the audience. The boulder in front of you yells, “I love you, Takada-Chan! It’s me, Aoi Todo! Your future husband!” He waves his arms back and forth, vying for her attention.

As you wait for the crowd to disperse, you shout to Sara, “As if Takada-Chan will ever marry an idiot like that.”

All of a sudden, he turns around to face you. He’s more massive and menacing from the front. The most noticeable feature about him is the huge scar running down the left side of his face. A tiny corner of your brain wonders what the story behind that is. “What did you call me?” he growls.

Shit. You didn’t think he could hear you. He’s a jerk anyways, so no need to be nice. “I called you an idiot, idiot,” you sneer, with the smuggest grin.

He glares at you. “I’ll have you know that I have an IQ of 530,000. You normies could never compare.” His voice is dripping with arrogance and cockiness, it makes your blood boil.

“Normies? You some kind of god or something?”

“Heh, you could call me god-like, I suppose,” he winks at you, smirking.

You roll your eyes, hard. “Charming. Well, I hope you had fun getting ignored by your 'future wife'. Thanks to you, I didn’t even get to see her since your ginormous body was blocking me the entire time!” You’re seething now. Sara stands beside you, wide eyed but enjoying the show. If there was popcorn, she would be stuffing her face with it right now.

“It’s not my fault you couldn’t save yourself a better spot. Maybe next time, plan better. If you are a true Takada fan, you would do whatever it takes. That’s why I’m the superior Takada-Chan fan.” Both his thumbs point towards himself, puffing out his chest.

“Please, you think you’re the superior fan? Don’t make me laugh.”

“I’ve known her since middle school, so yeah, I think that makes me the biggest fan!”

“I doubt that, you’re probably making this up!”

“I’m not! She rejected me in middle school, but I know she’ll come around in a few years once she retires! Then we’ll finally be together!”

This guy is truly delusional. “You think Takada-Chan will ever marry someone like you? Get real!”

You're both going at it like a tennis match, Sara's eyes darting back and forth between the two contenders.

“Don’t tell me you’re in love with Takada-Chan too? I will crush you if you get in my way!” he yells.

“I’m not in love with her, I admire her! I aspire to be her!”

“Ha, don’t make me laugh. You’ll never be like Takada-Chan, shorty.”

“I’m not talking about her looks; I’m talking about her personality!”

“Well, it doesn’t look like you have much going on there either!”

“Asshole!”

“Loser!”

“Okay you two, stop!” Sara intervenes, physically placing herself in between you and the ogre. “As much fun as it is to see you both go ballistic at each other, people are starting to stare. Now break it up.”

Your face is so hot, you feel steam coming out of your ears. What a fucking asshole.

He looks at Sara and tells her, “You better control your girl. She shouldn’t be messing with someone like me.”

“Oh, is that a threat? Come at me, I will fuck you up!” You’re ready to throw hands at this fucking prick until Sara restrains you, letting him walk away, chuckling.

“You have seriously got to calm down. Don’t let a dick like him get to you,” Sara says, still holding you back.

All you do is grunt at her. Who does this moron think he is to talk to people like that? As you make your way towards the exit of the mall, you hope with all your Takada filled heart that you never have to run into that guy ever again.

[cranberrymoons]

winter games

prompt: sports (@steddieholidaydrabbles) word count: 605 rated: t tags: basketball, fluff, eddie enduring jock stobin ✊😔 notes: this one stands alone but is part of the future fic series!

welcome to Day 22 of the fic advent calendar – bite-sized fics posting every day during the month of december. enjoy!

Eddie has a type, and much to his eternal dismay, his type is jocks – with a heart of gold, though! That’s an important distinction. 

Anyway.

He’d been afraid that this would lead to him marrying into a Turkey Trot family, a bunch of evil sporty people in spandex who wake up at five in the morning on Thanksgiving day to run a 5K in the freezing cold before they’ll allow themselves a slice of pumpkin pie, but luckily for him, this hasn’t turned out to be the case.

Unluckily, he has instead found himself married to someone who takes basketball… so goddamn seriously. 

It’s actually kind of adorable, even if he doesn’t actually know or care what’s happening as he sits back on the couch with Steve’s feet in his lap while he and Robin yell at the screen. 

“I don’t know what the hell he thinks he’s doing,” Steve says as Eddie takes a swig of his beer and watches impassively at the tiny men in the red jerseys running back and forth on the court. “It’s like he’s never even seen a hoop before.”

“Seriously,” Robin says. She hands over her bag of chips when Steve makes a grab for it. She rips an anxious hand back through her hair where she’s curled in the big squashy armchair near the couch. “Pathetic.”

“They’re still winning though, aren’t they?” Eddie asks. They turn to him with twin exasperated looks, and Eddie widens his eyes. “Indiana. They’re winning.”

“That’s not the point,” Steve says as Robin nods along emphatically. “They should be winning by more.”

Eddie makes a face. “That doesn’t make any sense.”

“It doesn’t make sense to you,” Robin says. She rolls her eyes. “Just because –”

But they both devolve into outraged shouts at something that’s just happened in the game, and she doesn’t finish her thought. Steve gets so wound up that his feet shift in Eddie’s lap, heels digging into the tops of his thighs, and Eddie lets out a little grunt of pain. He squeezes Steve’s ankle to get him to move, and Steve gives him a distracted apology as he commiserates with Robin over what is apparently something worth being very upset over.

“Neither of you even went to this school,” he says under his breath, taking another swig of his drink. “Why do you even care?”

Robin glares at him. “How many ear-blasting rock shows have I sat through over the years?”

Eddie sighs. “A bunch.”

“An innumerable number,” she says, raising her eyebrows. “You can put up with one basketball game.”

Steve makes a face. “She kind of has a point.” He rubs a hand over Eddie’s arm where it rests against his legs. “Sorry. Go do a snack run or something if you’re bored. We’re not even to halftime yet.”

Eddie doesn’t need to be asked twice, not when there are several hours (?) of this in his immediate future. He shifts out from under Steve and collects a few empty plates before starting in the direction of the kitchen. 

“Bring more drinks!” Robin calls after him.

“And some of the Christmas cookies from earlier!” Steve adds, craning his neck around to be heard from his spot on the couch. 

Eddie just rolls his eyes, smiling to himself as he pulls open the fridge and stares into it, considering starting some type of cooking project just to keep himself out of the way of the two-person cheering squad in the living room. 

And – okay, so his type is jocks. Doesn’t mean he actually wants to be around them when they’re doing jock things.

[also on ao3]

[taeyongdoyoung]

summary: you're tired of your relatives asking you if you're still single every Christmas. on the spur of the moment, you lie that your have boyfriend. luckily, your best friend sweeps in like your knight in shining armor to save the day pairing: jin x reader genre: romcom with a lil angst, best friends to fake dating to lovers warnings: nosy annoying relatives, lying, fake dating trope, one bed mentioned, some crying, insecurities, confessions, kissing, it is quite mild tbh author's note: the title is super lame but hey, Jin likes dad jokes so here we go 🤷 also i intended to post this for his bday but didn't have enough time to finish it word count: 2.4k

Christmas is the loneliest time of the year for you. Even though you spend it with your relatives, they always make a point of asking whether you are still single. Spoiler alert: you are. It's gotten annoying that they don't appreciate you for your academic and personal achievements and they are only interested in your relationship status. You are so tired of the recurring question which is why you dread Christmas so much. A few weeks before it, you get a call from your parents.

"You're coming home for the holidays, right?"

"Of course, mom," you respond, rolling your eyes.

"So…have you found a special someone?"

There it is. Again. Ugh.

"If I hear this one more time…" you sigh.

"Got it," your mom chuckles condescendingly, which frustrates you to no end.

You don't know what spirit possesses you to do what you do next but the words are out of your mouth before you can think twice about it.

"I actually have a boyfriend but maybe if you weren't nagging me about it every Christmas, I would have told you earlier."

"You do?" your mom exclaims, surprise evident in her voice."Well, isn't that wonderful! You should bring him, introduce him into the family."

"He's really busy, mom, I don't think he'll make it," you keep lying, trying to get out of the situation you'd brought upon yourself.

"Nonsense, no one works on Christmas. I expect to see the happy couple soon. And no excuses!"

Before you could argue, your mom hangs up. Great. Now you have two weeks to magically find a boyfriend to bring home for the holidays.

You are sitting on your best friend's couch, playing games with him.

"Damn, you're so good at this!" you shout in fake annoyance at being defeated but you are actually happy for him. You know how much Jin loves winning.

"What can I say? I was born this way," he smirks confidently and puts the console on the table.

"Humble, as always," you tease him, nudging his shoulder.

"So, do you have any plans for Christmas?"

"Ugh, don't remind me."

"Why? I thought you loved Christmas movies and decorations and all things Christmas-related," Jin tells you and you are beyond touched to have someone who knows you that well and remembers such details.

"I do, but…I got myself in a bit of a predicament."

"Do share," he turns to the side so that he can face you.

"Well, you know how my relatives always ask whether I'm still single? And they're especially persistent around the holidays."

"I know," he laughs. "You've only complained about it like a hundred times."

"Sorry," you grimace at your own predisposition to torment your best friend everytime something goes wrong in your life. "So, um…this year I told my mom I have a boyfriend."

"And I learn about this now?" Jin puts a hand on his heart, expressing disappointment that you'd kept such a big secret from him.

"What? No, I don't have a boyfriend. I lied to my mom and now she expects me to bring a guy to meet the family."

"Oh, shit," he now understands why you're not looking forward to Christmas.

"Yep. I'm such a mess. Everyone will be so mad at me when I come home alone. Again. Kill me now."

"Well…you don't have to be alone."

"Huh?"

"Hear me out. What if I pretend to be your boyfriend? Just for the holidays. Then, your relatives would get off your back."

"Jin…I can't ask this of you."

"Good thing you're not asking. I came up with this brilliant idea myself. If it bothers you, you can tell them we broke up some time next year. Don't you want one Christmas of your relatives not repeating the same old annoying question?"

"I do want it, more than anything. But I would hate to inconvenience you…"

"Come on, it will be fun! My parents are spending this Christmas in Australia, drinking cocktails and soaking in the sun. It's not like I have anything special planned. It would be delightful to spend it with my best friend," Jin keeps talking and you are almost convinced.

"What about your best friend's super messy family?" you try to change his mind.

"Oh, I'm sure I'll charm the pants off them."

You are not worried about how your relatives will immediatelly fall in love with Jin. You are concerned that it will be you being charmed…

You are revising every small detail while Jin is driving his car to your grandparents' place.

"When did we start dating?" you ask him.

"Three months ago. We naturally realized that we are great friends and would make an even greater couple," he responds without hesitation. "How did I ask you out?"

"You told me I am the best thing that happened to you and I would make you the happiest man in the world if I went on a date with you," you reply naturally. "What was our first date like?"

"We went to watch a movie together, after that we had dinner at a lovely restaurant and I walked you to your apartment where I kissed you in front of the doorstep."

"The roses! You forgot to mention the roses!" you cry out, almost panicking. This has to be perfect or your snoopy relatives might suspect something.

"I was supposed to bring roses to your grandparents? I thought the wine would be enough," Jin mumbles in confusion.

"No, for the first date details! We agreed that you'd mention the roses. What if…what if they ask and we mess something up and…"

"Darling, relax. We've got this. We've been best friends for seven years. We know each other well enough to handle anything."

You try to ignore the way your heart flutters when he calls you darling. Damnit. When he'd suggested pretending, you hadn't thought about the fact that it wouldn't be pretending on your part.

"Do you trust me?" Jin asks.

"Unequivocally," you assure him. It is yourself you don't trust.

Once he parks the car, you are immediately greeted by a bunch of your relatives.

"Come, come! It is lovely to meet you," your mom welcomes Jin.

"Mom, this is my best friend," you say by force of habit and then correct yourself, "and now my boyfriend, Jin."

"Nice to meet you, ma'am," Jin shakes her hand politely.

"Pfft, call me by my name," your mom says and introduces herself.

Quickly enough, your poor bestie is hounded by your grandparents, your aunt, your cousin and her kids. It's a lot of excitement considering you'd just arrived and you are already looking forward to going to bed. You love your relatives but sometimes they can be…a lot.

Jin, however, seems to be thriving. He talks to your mom about cooking, to your grandparents about fishing and politics, to your aunt and cousin about acting and singing. Even the kids seem to love him, as he takes the time to play hide and seek with them. He also promises to build a snowman with them when it is warmer tomorrow. You have no reason to worry and yet, seeing him naturally fit in with them on their first meeting…when you have felt like an outsider your whole life, is enough to bring tears to your eyes. You excuse yourself from the table, saying you need to use the bathroom.

Not expecting anyone to notice your absence, you cry quietly in your room, feeling as if you have never been good enough and your relatives were always disappointed in you. You hear a soft knock on the door, which takes you by surprise.

"You alright, love?" Jin asks.

You let him in and he wraps you up in one of his warm hugs that have the magical ability to make you stop crying.

"What's wrong? I thought it was going well," he whispers, not wanting anyone to overhear.

"It's going splendidly," you agree. "It's just that…they love you more than they do me."

"That can't be true, you're the most precious granddaughter, niece and cousin anyone could possibly have."

You sniffle and look up at him.

"You only say that 'cause I'm your best friend," you try to make light out of the situation.

"Girlfriend," he corrects you with a wink.

"Right," you chuckle through the tears.

"Come on. Let's not give them the opportunity to discuss us behind our backs," Jin jokes and you decide to return to the table. He gives you the strength needed to face them again.

The Christmas holidays go by smoothly and in the blink of an eye. The days are filled with laughter, hot chocolate, yummy meals, wholesome Christmas movies, cozy socks and snowball fights with your cousin's kids. This might be the best Christmas you've ever had. You wonder if it's Jin's presence that made it so special and heartwarming. During the family dinners, he is the life of the party, always knowing the right thing to say to each and every one of your relatives. And when the two of you are alone, cuddled up in your room, he is your rock. You know you can count on him and tell him everything that has bothered you. And you know that he would understand you and comfort you like nobody else could.

Which is why it hurts so much when he is now driving you both back to the city. The pretense is over. You would no longer have an excuse to hold his hand or sleep in the same bed as him or kiss his cheek so openly. He is back to being your best friend. And perhaps that's the way it should be. You couldn't risk your friendship by doing something stupid like confessing your undying love for him. No, that would certainly be a terrible idea. Perhaps more terrible than having him as a fake boyfriend for the holidays.

"What's on your mind?" Jin asks.

"Hm?"

"I can see the gears turning in your head. Something is bothering you."

"Hey, aren't you supposed to look at the road instead of the gears in my head?" you tease him.

"I can multitask. Come on, just tell me."

"It's nothing. I just found myself wishing the Christmas holidays could last longer. I really had an amazing time, which doesn't usually happen around my relatives."

"Glad I could be of service," Jin smirks proudly, making you laugh. You would never grow tired of his casually confident nature.

Silence ensues for a couple of minutes and you are back to worrying and thinking about your unresolved feelings for your best friend. When suddenly, he interrupts your thought process with an unexpected suggestion.

"How about we have a second Christmas?"

"A second Christmas?" you repeat in confusion.

"My place. Just the two of us. We'll do all the things we didn't have the chance to do at your grandparents' house."

"Such as?" you inquire, wondering what you've missed.

"We'll play games and I'll make you my famous roast beef. We'll have midnight snacks and watch anime with no one judging us. We'll bake Christmas cookies together and we could even go ice-skating."

"That…sounds lovely. I'm in," you immediately agree, excited to have a second Christmas with Jin. Maybe, just maybe, a miracle will happen.

The next day, you arrive at his place and are amazed to find how magically decorated it is.

"Ta-da! Welcome to your own personal winter wonderland."

"My goodness, Jin, it looks incredible! How did you achieve all this so quickly and all by yourself? You must be exhausted."

"Nah, it was my pleasure. And besides, seeing the smile on your face is the best Christmas present I could hope for," he responds.

"Merry second Christmas to you, too," you grin and give him a hug. It feels so natural and like you were meant to end up right there.

As promised, the two of you get to do all the things you couldn't at your grandparents'. You watch the spiciest animes with zero shame, you eat ramen at 1am and you play violent games that would make your relatives gasp in horror. It is genuinely the most incredible Christmas. Even more incredible than the time you spent with your family.

But all good things inevitably come to an end. Tomorrow, it is time for both you and Jin to go back to work. And with that, the magical holidays will be over. You don't want them to be. You wish you could stay in this bubble forever, with Jin's arms wrapped around you.

"I should probably head home. You have to wake up early tomorrow."

"Or…you could stay. We can share the bed," Jin suggests and you can swear you hear a hopeful hint in his voice.

"Jin…we're no longer surrounded by my nosy relatives. You don't have to pretend it's okay with you to have me intruding on your personal space."

"Who said I was pretending?" he whispers and you probably shouldn't but you allow yourself to dream. There is no way he feels the same…or is there?

"Don't…don't say stuff like that if you don't mean it," you mumble, feeling more vulnerable than ever.

"I'm tired of hiding it, sweetheart," he sighs and presses his hand against your cheek. "I only offered the whole fake dating thing because I was hoping you would finally get the hint and realize how important you are to me. But in case it wasn't obvious enough, let me spell it out for you. I. Am. Crazy. About. You."

You blink in shock.

"Pinch me so I know I'm not dreaming. You…like me back?"

"How about I do something better?" Jin smiles softly and leans in to kiss you. It is slow and sweet, just as how you'd imagined it hundreds of times. No, scratch that. It is so much better. He makes you feel so special and loved. You wish you had confessed earlier. You have been missing out on so many Christmas kisses.

"Look up," Jin says gently once he finally breaks the kiss.

You do as he asks and you realize that you have somehow ended up under a mistletoe decoration he must have put up and you haven't noticed before.

"Aww, man, did you only kiss me because of that mistletoe?"

"Let me take you to my room and prove you otherwise," Jin vows, grabs your hand and urges you to follow his lead.

Christmas is truly the most wonderful time of the year.

The End

[guardarecheluna]

Who was i, to deserve such a love?

Word count: around 2.1k Warnings: none except teeth rotting fluff and dadrry

Authors note; Hi! First post! I wrote this last year, but Lucia was just the other day, and i decided to post this to really set the mood for Lucia and christmas. I really love Lucia, and as a Scandinavian girlie i celebrate it religiously every year, and last years Lucia resulted in this messy piece. Again, i am in no way a professional writer, this is unedited and MESSY, but if you have any feedback for me or just an encouraging word or two, i'd love to hear it <3 enjoy lovelies.

It’s Elidas big choir day in the local church. Harry was struggling to get Elida’s coat on, clumsy fingers trying to zip up her tiny coat. He’s huffing and puffing by the time she’s finally got her thick winter gear on to combat the icy winds on the other side of the door. Y/N is situated on the couch, still. Feeding their fresh baby, Ruth, just four weeks old. Ruth whimpers and writhes in her arms, not yet decided if she’s full or if she’s ready for her nap. ”I’ll buckle her up in seat, take your time, lover.” Harry shouted from the hallway, popping the baby bubble Y/N was currently in. Shaking out of her thoughts, she rises from the couch, Ruth on her shoulder, trying to get one final burp in before heading out to see Elida sing in the Lucia choir.

Harry never really understood the Lucia tradtition. When Y/N first started seeing eachother they were both living in London, which Y/N understood quickly, had no Lucia arrangements on december 13th. However, Y/N went on and on on their first few dates in december talking about the tradition. In scandinavia Lucia is celebrated on december 13th every year. Lucia was an old saint, apparently. Her story was told as she was a young woman, living in Sicily around 300 years A.D. She refused to be married of to a man and suffered the consequenses of a martyr death, but in her memory, it’s common to bake saffron buns and light candles, to bring some light in the absolute darkest season. Harry knew he was in love with her the moment she told him the story about Lucia. He knew by the time she had finally found a Lucia celebration in London and dragged him with her, that he wanted to buy her a ring. Harry was sold just hearing hear speak about her roots, traditions and her passion for keeping up with it, even though she was far away from home.

-

Y/N had been up early that morning with Ruth, leaving Harry to get another hour of slumber as he had been up with her throughout the night. She knew she couldn’t have a Lucia without her saffron buns. So there she was, barely 5 am, throwing sugar, flour, yeast and saffron in the mixture, Ruth drowsy on her chest. She had been trying to make this a tradition in their home, so that her family could wake up to the smell of freshly baked saffron buns on Lucia morning. And she was tired, god was she tired, but the smiles on Harry’s and Elidas faces when they wake up would be priceless, this she knew.

-

And now years later, having just welcomed their second baby girl, Y/N had signed her up for the Lucia event in their local church. She couldn’t help herself, she knew Elida would make the sweetest Lucia and Harry, although slightly apprehensive about a chuch choir, agreed when she reminded him about the tradition and how important it was to her.

With everyone in the car, Elidas long white dress and pretend candlecrown packed they left, warm and fuzzy in the cold weather, and knowing that tears will shed from their eyes watching ther first daughter participating in the event. Harry grabbed the sling and put Ruth on his chest, leaving Y/N to help Elida get her white dress on. ”Mumma, i’m going to be Luica!” Eldia proudly said when she was finally dressed. Twirling around and dancing in her long gown in the entrance of the church. Y/N smiled at her daughter, pride filling her chest at the little person she’s forming into. ”You are, my love. The prettiest one.” Ruth was fast asleep on Harry’s chest, letting out small puffs of air while Harry’s lips were constantly ghosting on the top of her head, breathing in the baby scent that he just couldn’t get enough of.

Elida was off as soon as she saw her choir teacher, giggling with all the other children in the choir and getting their little voices ready for the event. Y/N and Harry sat down on the benches, quite up front sp they could get a good look at Elida during her performance. ”How are you feeling?” Harry murmured, sound muffled with his lips still ghosting over Ruths downy hair. He had noticed how Y/N had gotten quiet, and by now, he could read her quite well. He knew she was excited, nervous, proud, all at the same time. But of course, he’d still ask. She let out a breath she had been holding, body inching closer to Harry to let her in on his warmth. ”I’m alright, it just feels…full circle in some ways. I can’t belive this is where we ended up” She gave him a watery smile, eyes glazed over from the overwhelming feeling. Harry chuckles. He knows exactly what she’s talking about, and he’s thinking about it too. How their little girl grew up so fast. How it feels like it was yesterday when Y/N had dragged Harry along to his first Lucia celebration, with that all consuming, freshly in love feeling aching in their hearts.

Harry had grabbed her hand as they sat on the bench in the old church, giving it a squeeze to get her to look at him. ”I never imagined myself being where i am today, and i wish i could tell you how all of this feels for me too, but i think you already know.” He said, eyes already watery as he’s thinking of his oldest baby girl performing in just a few minutes. Y/N smiles, leaving him with a kiss on his jaw, and a kiss on Ruth’s soft head. She squeezed his hand back, and she was just supposed to answer him when the lights dimmed and and the faint voices of the childrens choir started sounding in the back of the church. Their heads turned towards the back of the church, seeing a little train of children dressed as Luica, gingerbreadmen and little elves trailing down towards the altar. Elida was singing on the top of her lungs, not yet having spotted her parents in the crowd, and looking around the church like the curious child she is. Harry and Y/N was beaming with pride as Elida finally spotted them in the benches, waving energetically, with Harry and Y/N waving back.

With the choir in the front of the church, their little candlecrowns slidning here and there on top of their heads, Ruth had started writhing againgst her father’s chest. The mummy instinct immidietly kicked in with Y/N and she turned her head away from Elida to coo at her second baby girl. ”I’ve got her, i’ll walk around for a bit to soothe her” Harry said, a now experienced father to his newborn. He rose from the bench, ditching the sling in his seat, cradling Ruth in the crook of his arm. He sneaked out of the row, walking down the aisle while bouncing Ruth, whispering incoherent scentences to his littlest love. Y/N had to turn around to the front, focusing on Elidas performance, instead of watching her glorious baby daddy having a moment with his daughter. She let out a shaky breath, he looked so good with their baby in his arms. She’d give him a million if she could just to watch this scene unfold again and again. Not that there was anything special with his looks on this particular day, just plain beige trousers and a loose, button up shirt. The sleeves were rolled up due to the heat in church with all the candles, and his uruly hair is tamed by a single hairclip.

Suddenly Elida spots Harry and Ruth in the back of the church, bouncing around with slow steps. Elida takes a step forward out of the choir, searching to contact with her father, and the moment she knows that she’s spotted him, she waves and waves, and finally let’s out ”Hi daddy!! Hi Wuth!” With her tiny, but mighty, 4 year old voice. Harry is startled, the crowd of people turning their heads to the back of the church where he was stood. Many women oogling his tattooed forearms with his fresh baby cradled in the crook of one. Y/N couldn’t stop laughing, it was like a pot boiling over as she let out a genuine laugh at her daugher. That girl truly had no shame. Y/N watched Harry as he blushed, raisin ghte hand that wasn’t holding Ruth, and waving, shouting back. ”Hi darling!” A stream of giggles and embarrassed laughter rolled through the church, finding their little Elida absolutely adorable with her curly hair and crooked candlecrown.

-

As they stepped through their front door, with one sleepy child in each of their arms, Y/N and Harry smiled at eachother as they put Elida down for a nap after her big day. Ruth got changed and put in her crib for some downtime. The parents stepped out of their daughters bedrooms at the same time. ”You know,” Harry said as he walked up to Y/N. ”She’s absolutely insane, that girl, i don’t know if we’ll be able to keep up with her.” Y/N raised an eyebrow, eyeing him. ”Hmm, and i wonder where she gets that from?” Acting clueless as a big smile takes over her features. Harry bites down a laugh, looking down at the floor below them, grabbing Y/N to bring her close to him. ”She did really good.” He said, eyes still gleaming with pride. That was his daughter, His own flesh and blood becoming a person and growing up in front of their eyes, all too quickly, ”She did. I really hope she’ll take on the tradition and love it as much as we do. I have to say though, i thought maybe she would freak out when she saw the crowd, i’m surprised she didn’t care too much” Y/N said softly, knowing that Elida wasn’t nessicarily shy, but she could definitely become overwhelmed with that many people. Harry nodded, looking down at Y/N, a look in his eyes. ”Are you even listening to me?” Y/N laughed as she tilted her head, questioning him. ”Mhm, i’m listening. Just thinking.” He said, proceeding to hide his face in her neck, leaving a few soft kisses around her pulsepoint. ”Yeah? Penny for your thoughts?” She answered, genuinely interested if it was going to be a horny answer, or a lovey-dovey answer. ”I’m so in love with you. I’m so in love with our daughters. I want you to know that i’m not taking any of this for granted, not you, not these traditions, not our love. I just…i feel like my heart is bursting with all these emotions for you, Elida, and Ruth, that i sometimes don’t know where to put them.” He confessed, head still in her neck, crouched down, with Y/N’s hands running soft patterns on his back. This was indeed not a horny comment. She smiled, taking his face in her hands and looked at him. ”You put them here. With me, in our home, with our family. Write it down, take pictures, spend time. I know just the feelings you’re talking about. I feel it too. And although i sometimes have a hard time accepting that this actually is my life, i’m so thrilled about it. I love you, you know this, but…i promise to never stop putting my feelings here as long as you promise me the same.” She said, eyes scanning his features, landing on his forrest green eyes. ”I promise.” He said, leaning in to catch her lips with his. Warm, plushy lips dancing together, like they were made for eachother. ”I love you.” He told her between soft kisses, ”I’ll never stop, i don’t think i can.”

[holly-louisexox]

Ribcage X Andy Biersack- Alternative Ending

Masterlist

"There's one thing you should know about me Delia Vincent, I don't date. Got no heart to break and emptiness is safe, keep it that way."

He was adamant in his choices...

...But then things changed

Author's Note:

Whilst I am sad to see this story come to an end, I would like to happily announce that this is not the end of Delia and Andy's story. There will be a second instalment coming very soon called Saviour II, so please be sure to keep your eyes peeled. I would like to take this moment to thank every single person who has followed the development of this story and who has stuck by it. I have spoken to some amazing people and every like, comment and message has been so valuable to me. I hope to see you all in the second story.

------------------------------------

It had been a week since Delia's disappearance, since finding Delia's phone out in the streets, the police had hit a dead end of the case. No one in the group was dealing well with the waiting around, they were waiting for any sort of update, promising news, a miracle, even an absolution; that never came. Andy was not coping well in the slightest, no one in the group knew what to do, however, Andy had found comfort in talking to Delia's mum. He had phoned her one time apologising to her and blaming himself, of course Tamara knew deep down it was not Andy who was to blame.

"Hello?" Lonny asks after answering his phone; everyone in the group had turned to look in his direction, they were praying it was something good. "Okay, thank you."

"Lonny? What was that?" Andy asks as he watches Lonny's face drop.

"Delia, they found Delia." Lonny chokes out as tears fall down his face.

"That's good right?" Shevy asks trying to be hopeful; but realistically everyone knew how they had found her, they just needed to hear Lonny say it.

"She didn't make it." Lonny continues to cry "They found her in the Seattle ferry landing pier."

"No, no. It's not her. How do they know it's her? Are they sure?" Andy screams through tears as CC instantly wraps his arms around the singer to stop him doing anything erratic.

"We need to go and identify the body to be sure..." Lonny looks down at his feet sadly "But they're confident it's Delia."

"I, erm, I can't. I can't do that." Shevy stutters "I'll erm, I'll stay here and call her parents but I can't go to- I can't do that."

"I'll do it." Jake speaks sadly; the whole ordeal was bring back memories of when he has lost his mother, but someone had to do it.

"You sure Jake?" Jinxx asks; he could tell exactly what Jake was thinking "I'll come with you."

"It's not her, I'm telling you it's not her. The police, they've got it wrong, they've surely got it wrong." Andy continues to angrily shout through his sobs before he completely breaks down and falls to the floor "I never- I never got to tell her properly how I felt. I think I was falling in love."

--------------------

Delia's body was able to be transported back to Ohio pretty soon after they had identified her; the police had no reason to perform anymore checks on her and they were more focused on trying to find out who this monster committing these crimes was before another woman could fall prey to them. Shevy and the band travelled to Ohio alongside Delia and were present for the planning of her funeral; the 6 of them also put money forward to help her parents with the cost of it all. But alas, the dreaded day had finally arrived, the day they had to lay Delia to rest.

"Dear Delia." Andy starts trying to keep his tears at bay; standing up in front of everyone next to her coffin was proving harder than any performance he had ever done. "I know I may not have shown it, but you were the best person to have entered my life in a long time. I wish we had gotten more time together and I wish I had told you how I felt sooner, but I know you are always going to be a part of me; I hope that wherever you are now you're safe."

Many tears were shed throughout the service by the band, Shevy and her parents. It was only the 8 of them that attended, Tamara and Nick had explained how they did not have any other family and that it was always just the 3 of them, Delia never did have a close friend circle as she was always so career driven. After the burial the group slowly dispersed, some stayed by Delia's grave to pay their final respect, Shevy was struggling to stay so decided to go get Delia's favourite coffee in her honour and Andy, he went and stood on the side lines of the cemetery; he could not bare the sight of the coffin containing Delia in the ground, but at the same time he was not ready to leave her yet.

"Andy?" Tamara catches Andy off guard slightly "I wish we had met in better circumstances."

"So do I Tamara." Andy nods sadly.

"You know, Delia phoned me a couple of times whilst on tour to tell me about you and ask for my advice, she may not have admitted it fully but I know my daughter; she really liked you a lot." Tamara explains "Whatever happened between the two of you, just know that I hold absolutely no hard feelings towards you Andy. I know you would have pulled through and been exactly what Delia needed. If ever you need us or you find yourself in Ohio, mine and Nick's door is always open for you."

"thank you Tamara, that means so much." Andy smiles sadly as Tamara pulls him close for a hug. Eventually she breaks the hug and walks away just as Nick approaches.

"You know, when I was ill, I would always tell Delia to look for me in my next life as a wolf. It was then Delia decided she wanted to come back as a blackbird." Nick explains trying to bring Andy some comfort "Just look out for the blackbirds, that's what I'll be doing."

Just as Nick walks away, a black bird lands a few feet away from Andy before proceeding to just stare at him.

"Hey Delia." Andy whispers softly to the bird as he watches it slowly tilt its head before flying off again, that's when Andy feels a hand on his shoulder.

"Andy, you going to be okay mate?" Lonny asks "You know me and Rhita are happy to have to stay with us if you ever need it."

"Thanks Lonny, but I think I'm going to be okay." Andy nods as he continues to stare at where the blackbird was just minutes ago.

--------------------

Since returning to Ohio, Andy had been staying with his parents and trying to fix his relationship with them; although neither of his parents knew how to help their son with the loss he was going through. Instead, Andy found himself in his room most of the time just staring at the ceiling; not this night though.

His parents had kept the electric keyboard in his room and that night he had found himself sitting at it bashing notes, trying out chord progressions and playing on words in his song writing journal he had. After a few hours, Andy stared down at the words and chords he had put together and he felt satisfied.

"I'm not one to believe in Heaven or Hell." Andy starts conversation with himself whilst hoping Delia could hear him "I just hope that wherever you are, you're safe now. I meant every word I said earlier and I am so sorry I couldn't protect you. You have changed me in more ways than one Delia Grace Vincent, I could never forget you after that. To prove it, I wrote you a song. You became such a big part of the group and I know we're all going to miss having you around, but now you will always have a place in Black Veil Brides."

Andy shakily takes in a deep breath, his hands find the keys of the keyboard and he starts playing beautifully arranged notes before singing equally as beautiful lyrics to dedicate to Delia.

"Hold on to hope, take back your soul, and they cannot steal the light that shines from who you once were. You're blood and bones left in the cold, so just look into the sky and you'll become the blackbird."

[heartthumpnovel]

Heart Thump: The Cursed Prince AU

Part 2

Word Count: 9846 Since the short got about nearly a 100 notes (Holy shit you guys :'D) I kind of have to create the promised follow up. This is gonna be a mini-series I think to help break up the monotony of writing the canon story while still being related. Chapter 7 in canon is still cooking so, have this second part being about Natasha convincing Jason to do the one thing I get asked often.... to touch grass. Part 1 Part 2 (you are here)

cw: Implied past abuse, panic attack

—

The morning light flooded gently into the bedroom window as it reflected on the dust settling in the cluttered bedroom. While it wasn’t a complete mess, it had various garments and sewing supplies scattered throughout with a half-completed lute lay on the desk. Definitely needed some love and care around the place.

During the morning rise as the room brightened up, a figure shifted and moaned in the bounds of pillows that nearly covered every square inch of the bed. A dark and nicely taken care of hand reached out from the mountain of pillows to search the bedside for the goblet of water. Her fingers felt the cold marble of it and attempted to grab it, however she missed the mark on it and shuffled the goblet just far enough to where it tipped on the end and made a loud thunk on the floor. “Gods damn it.” Natasha mumbled, dragging herself out of bed. She pulled off the towel that was holding her hair as she forced herself into consciousness. Her dark curled hair fell onto her shoulders and a bit into her eyes. She huffed and rubbed her eyes, wondering what time it was supposed to be as it felt like she just got back into bed.

She could smell the morning dew and saw that the light had entered her bedroom, if she had to guess it was just after daybreak. Her eyes widened. “Oh! OH-!” She shouted as she ripped the sheets off of her and let the pillows be thrown all around her bed as Natasha leapt out of bed. 

“Craaaap- I was supposed to finish it today before.. Ugh!” Natasha strode to the lute she was in the middle of repairing and sighed as her fingers trailed the wood of the base. 

“Suppose there’s next time...” Natasha mumbled as she stepped away and opened her wardrobe with force. Her arms searched through the closet that could have been deep enough to hold at least one lion. 

“Right, thinkin’ pink today… ” Natasha said to herself as she rushed to put on her normal going out wear which comprised a nice yet reliable blouse with a vest and her nice riding pants, “And just to be on the safe side…” Natasha pulled out her shoulder guard and attached the belt to her chest. Can never be too safe in the wilder woods, even if everyone she’s met there has been friendly. Though the one person who she met out there was a guy who was trapped in a tower by their royally messed up family, she still considered that one friendly face out there. 

With that, Natasha rushed to her dresser and did her best to braid up her hair on short notice. The dressed up Natasha strolled out of her room and paced down the hallway, trying to think of ideas to bring to her meeting with the cursed prince. Originally it was going to be her bringing some delightful music to play, though her lute broke a few moons back unfortunately, and she’d been procrastinating on fixing the thing. 

While he was on her journey down the hall, the servants doing chores gave their greetings to the noble lady as she passed by them, in turn she also greeted them with a warm smile. “Mornin’ Farin!” “Good day, Sanguine!” “How’s that leg treating you Steven? Hope it gets better soon!” Natasha then made it to the main hall where there was a grand staircase leading to the entryway. Just as she was about to jostle down the stairs, she could hear a woman clear her throat. Natasha sighed and turned around to be met with Miss Gurnda, the chef her mother hired ages ago. “Morning Gurnda, do you need anything?” Natasha asked genuinely. “Oh dear Lady Natasha, Sorry for keeping you but, I’ve noticed you’ve not been home during morning breakfast or lunch. Are you eating well?” The older woman asked with concern in her eyes. “Awwhh,” Natasha said, scratching the back of her head, “I’m sorry ma’am… spring is the best to forage for herbs and I’ve been trying to make sure I’ve had enough supplies before summer hits.” 

Natasha then raised an eyebrow, “Wait what’s that basket for?” Natasha asked as she pointed at a basket with a cloth covering something that smelled of roasted garlic and potato. 

The older woman gave a chuckle and moved the cloth a bit to reveal some nicely done potato rolls, still steaming and the scent was mouthwatering. “I know I won’t be able to keep you here,” The chef said as she handed the basket over to Natasha, “But it will be a chilly day in hell if I left my little rosebud to starve out there.” 

Natasha held the basket handle in her arms, feeling her heart flutter and she reached out an arm to hug Gurnda enthusiastically. “Awh thanks Gurnda!” She cheerfully spoke as she held the basket close to her side, “You’re too sweet.” 

Gurnda returned the gesture with a hug of her own before Natasha made her way down the stairs. The old chef could have sworn that Natasha was in a happier mood than usual. Before Gurnda could wave off Natasha, the noble lady turned around from the grand doors and looked up at her, “Oh and could you do me a favor?” Natasha asked, “Don’t tell ma or pa I’m out in the woods again.” The chief raised a suspicious eyebrow before chuckling. “Alright but, you’re going to be the one to tell them my lady.” 

“I’ll tell them when they stop tellin’ me what to do.” Natasha returned with a grin before she pushed the front doors open to leave. Gurnda sighed as she walked off to do her morning duties as she shook her head. 

----

Natasha rushed towards the stables with her basket of delicious goods as she traversed through the front gardens. She passed by the neatly trimmed hedges and blooming marigolds with a spring in her step. Happy to get to see the cursed prince, as if she was young again and was skipping to a playdate with their childhood best friend.  

Sure, it had only been a month, but visiting Jason during her herb runs had become the highlight of Natasha's days. She never imagined finding happiness while harvesting lavender in the allegedly dangerous wildwoods, where only brave souls dared to venture. But the moment she saw the man grumpily yelling at her to leave, call it cliché if one must, it was love at first sight.

In all the tales and rumors about the cursed Atlas prince, none of them ever described that the giant trapped in the woods was handsome and a cute flustered mess. Though the rumor mill is rarely honest and she found it quite sad to hear people still believing that he’s just some Atlas super weapon gone terribly wrong. Instead of seeing a monster reaching out of the tower to eat nearby travelers, she had seen a lonely man who just needed to get outside. Natasha sighed at that prospect as she left the luscious gardens and headed towards the stables to get her horse ready for another trek in the woods. Despite having spoken with Jason multiple times since their first meeting, he seemed disinterested in leaving the small prison tower. While it was understandable that he feared people hunting him down, Natasha couldn't help feeling crestfallen whenever he gazed wistfully towards the outside world.

"Hey Nirvana," Natasha greeted her white and brown spotted steed, who was busy munching on hay, "You ready to go?" The horse responded with a huff before pulling its head out of the hay, swishing its tail indifferently. Natasha brushed her fingers through the horse's mane and secured the basket of delicious dumplings.

“Where the hells do you think you’re going?” a familiar gruff voice spoke up that made Natasha’s shoulder’s jump. Damn it.

Natasha smiled and turned around to see her childhood best friend and coincidentally, the head of the city guard. The knight was already dressed down from head to toe in his steel armor that only lacked his helmet to let his brown curly hair lie low as it allowed him to show his disapproved scowl. “Ohhh heeeyy Axel,” Natasha said, “How’s it going?” “Don’t give me that ya weasel,” Axel spoke with his hands going to his hips, “You’ve literally been ditching sword training all week.” He would not let her off the hook. Natasha sighed as she turned back to her horse to complete tying the basket to the saddle, “You know I really don’t gotta do that, unlike you knights.” She commented with a side eye as she could feel the angry stare Axel was giving her through his bangs. 

“Yeah I guess but, who was the one to ask about getting trained!?” Axel scoffed, he clasped his two hands together and pressed them on his cheek as he pretended to speak with an exaggerated higher pitch and whimsy.

"Oh, Axel, you're so strong and badass! If only I, a child with a silver spoon in my mouth, could swing a sword like you! Could you pwetty pwease teach me your ways so I can defend myself in the big scary woods while I pick pretty flowers?~" “Oh shut up! I don’t talk like that.” Natasha retorted with an eye roll, “Look I’m sorry I’ve not been able to make it, I’ve just been busy with spring.” 

Axel huffed, leaning against the barn wall behind Natasha. "Come on, Nat, what's really going on?" he asked, watching as Natasha tried her best to ignore him. "You love beating up the hay dummies at the training grounds."

Natasha loved Axel like a brother, but he could also be annoying like one too. "I'm practicing a special formation called Nyanabussiness, bloodhound," Natasha said, making the mistake of glancing up at him. That one point of eye contact was enough for Axel to understand what she was hiding.

“You…” Axel said with a mischievous grin, “Youuuu are sneaking out to see someone!” Damn it. The knight burst into laughter with the sounds of his chain-mail clanking. He put a hand on his forehead and tried to regain his composure to speak as Natasha’s cheeks darkened. She sputtered trying to hide what she already pulled out to the open. “It-it’s not like that-” Natasha tried to interject though the knight wasn’t letting up. 

"AHAHAHA- oh gods, this is rich!" Axel exclaimed before patting Natasha's shoulder hard, "Who's the unlucky sod?"

The noble laughed before shoving the knight away playfully, “We’re not courting!” Natasha said, “We’ve just been hanging out at his place since he’s a bit of a hermit.” 

“Oh wow,” Axel said as he scratched his slightly hairy jaw, “The daughter of politicians is going out to see a lowly hermit in the wilder woods… scandalous.” He smirked as he watched Natasha untie the reins off of the stable’s post. “It won't be scandalous if nobody finds out.” Natasha pointed out as she grabbed the saddle of her steed and hopped right onto the horse. Axel just stood there and crossed his arms, he knew better than to stop her. 

"Alright, well, take care, will ya? I ain’t in the mood to come and rescue you," Axel said half-jokingly as Natasha rode the horse out of the stable. She didn't bother to look back and responded with a sarcastic thumbs up as the horse galloped away.

Axel shook his head with a tsk under his breath, hoping that Natasha knew what she was doing.

----

Most people feared the wilder woods for a good reason; it was a dangerous place if one wasn’t careful. While the forest itself seemed perfectly safe at first glance, with beautiful flora growing and the wild life thriving in this ecosystem, it was dense and made for a good hiding spot for bandit camps or rogue magic users. Since it was also the middle point of the Atlas and Solaris kingdom with a rather profitable trade route, many who worked outside the law found this forest to be a haven for their robberies. 

Thankfully Natasha had known a good part of these woods for a while and usually traveled away from the primary routes. Her horse was trained to traverse off of paths and she had steered clear of smoke from campfires. Criminals weren’t the only thing she was cautious of however, she had heard of fae being active in the area and while she had seen none herself; she made a note to avoid rings of mushrooms and marked focus sites. And then there are those who warned of the mysterious giant. That one she chose to ignore. 

Her heart raced as she found the grove that had hidden away the initial path to the clearing with the tower. Natasha didn’t want to risk getting her horse hurt from having to traverse through the underbrush, so she tied Nirvana up to a tree branch. Before she left through the bushes, she untied the basket from the saddle and patted the steed gently on his muzzle. “That’s a good boy…” Natasha whispered as she pulled her hand away, “Yell if there’s trouble you hear me?” The horse huffed in acknowledgement before it leaned it’s neck down to eat the luscious grass growing by the tree’s roots. Natasha turned to the grove and made her way through the prickly bushes and leaves as she protected the goods within the basket. By now she knew her way through the branches and had made a small path for herself after countless visits. She was cautious to not get her clothes torn because she wouldn’t hear the end from her mother. 

Once she pushed aside the final bush, she saw the aging stone brick tower that was settled within the forest clearing. If Natasha wasn’t aware of the context that prison held, it would have been a nice centerpiece for a painting. It wasn’t a watch tower, she had seen similarly designed buildings before. The tower that stood tall in front of her was a prison for those who were banished, thus the maddening monotony of the brickwork was hardly a pleasant subject for a picture.

The noble wondered how in the world Jason held himself together in that place. Natasha wished deep within her heart that he would just let her free him to avoid such a terrible fate. 

Never minding that, she pressed on through the clearing and traversed over the small walking bridge to get to the base of the tower. She cleared her throat and called up to the lone stone balcony to beacon the prince. 

“Rapunzel, Rapanuzel, let down your hair!” Natasha yelled. “How many times are you going to use that joke?!” The voice from up above responded.

“Hey, I still think it’s funny!” Natasha responded as she crossed her arms. She listened closely from below, as she could hear a little clanking and rustling. This time around she pondered if she was going to see him large once more. He had ‘shifted’ for lack of a better word to describe it, twice after their first meeting. However, he hasn’t shifted drastically since then or, she just hadn't noticed. While it pained her a little to not witness the magical phenomenon again, she understood that it wasn’t her choice to make.

Eventually, she spotted those adorable wide hazel eyes peeking over the stone balcony, and those thin piano-like fingers clutching onto the edge. A smile spread across her face as she raised her hand to wave at the prince within the tower.

"Hey, how's it going, big guy?" Natasha called upwards, unsure if Jason had transformed into his taller state, as the distance between them made it hard to tell.

Jason revealed his smooth face and lanky chest, flashing a sweet dimpled smile as he rubbed the back of his neck. "Oh, you know, not doing much out here," Jason replied, "Though I did finally figure out a good balance to make tea from the lavender you graciously gave me." He twiddled his thumbs over the edge of the balcony, contemplating something important. “Uhm, would you kindly join me for a spot of tea?” He asked, loud enough to be heard but quiet because of nervousness. “You want me to climb up there?!” Natasha excitedly asked, fully prepared to make the climb if she had to- but, right after saying that Jason shot down her suggestion. “OH, no no no!” Jason exclaimed as he waved his hands, “I-I wouldn’t want you to accidentally injure yourself from climbing up here and me being.. well, me.” Natasha felt disappointed for a moment, “Awh… then how-" Before she could finish Jason pushed away from the balcony and came back with a tied basket in hand. He smiled in pride as he patted the items covered in the basket. “Keeping safety in mind, I’d thought I would just send your portion just uh, be careful with my tea set will you?” Jason said with sheepish politeness in his speech, “It’s the only one I have.” 

While it was a downer that they would not be meeting face-to-face, she guessed he wasn’t ready for that yet. Natasha brushed off the disappointment with an excited thumbs up and a wink. 

“I’ll treat it as gently as a newborn,” Natasha swore as she raised a hand in oath. With that, Jason gently hung his basket on the rope so graciously given to him from the first time they met. The basket slowly came down and it landed softly between Natasha’s palms as she reached up to it. 

As she untied the basket from the rope, it ascended once more. Natasha wasn't about to let that happen. “Woah, hold on there, your majesty,” Natasha's voice was filled with playful reproach as she tied her own parcel with the rope. Of course, she nabbed one bun before tugging on the rope twice. 

It took a couple of moments of stunned silence when the basket disappeared from Natasha’s sight for Jason to acknowledge what Natasha sent up. This gesture felt just like a gift exchange as they each unraveled the goods within their respective baskets. 

“You made pastries!?” Jason exclaimed as his head popped out of the window, she could tell he was smiling, “Oh gods, you didn’t have to feed me!” 

“Kinda obligated to,” Natasha spoke as she unfolded the blankets that were keeping the teapot warm, “We’re friends now after all.” 

Natasha heard the tower’s bricks crumble a bit from above as she unveiled a surprisingly humble tea set. It was indeed porcelain, though it was plain white and had a single blue rose insignia on the side of the pot itself. Sure it was nice though, she expected a royal first born like Jason to have something more gaudy.

She held it up to examine it further with her curious dim wine eyes before pouring a cup of her own. Smells of the lavender and honey had a very relaxing effect on her senses the moment she poured it. Definitely wasn’t something she should drink this early in the day but, she was gracious for the free drink.

“Dang this really nice,” Natasha said as she held the teacup in her lap, “It’d be great for a bad night’s sleep that’s for sure.” The lack of response from Jason prompted her to look up to see he had gone back into the tower. The first thing she noticed when he did return was his towering form, about as tall as a healthy apple tree, crouched from below the window frame. She had to try extremely hard to hold back laughter when it looked like he had a comically small teacup and plate in his large hands. Despite the sight looking ridiculous, his fingers held it regally as a future king should and rolled his eyes, Wondering what was so funny. 

“Ahem- Apologizes if the tea is a bit sedative,” Jason spoke as he held the tiny cup to his lips, “I’m used to preparing it this way so I can calm down whenever … this happens.” With that he inhaled deeply and despite being farther away, Natasha could see his form shrink immediately with a calmed sigh. With that- Jason took a sip. “Ahh, see? Much better..” He said as he leaned on the side of the balcony to gain a better viewpoint of Natasha. 

“This stuff isn’t going to shrink me too is it?” Natasha asked as she was in mid-sip.

Jason had to hold back laughter to not spill his tea and swallow harshly in order to correct her. He cleared his throat with a few pats to his chest. “Ahem- Heavens no!” Jason explained, “Height altering stuff like that doesn’t exactly work on me, plus even if it did- I wouldn’t think of spiking you with it!”  Jason stirred the tea with a small silver spoon as he shook his head. “It’s just a calming agent,” Jason said, “Frankly it’s not even alchemy and yet, for some reason works the best to help me get back into the right shape.” 

A pit fell within Natasha’s stomach. ‘Right shape’?  Something about the way he was referring to himself wasn’t sitting right with her. Her eyes stared into her cup for a moment in silence, thinking. 

“Uh?” The voice from above spoke in confusion, “Is everything alright Lady Maryrose?”

Natasha suddenly chugged down the lavender tea and set her cup in the basket with a determined look on her face that was barely masked with a sweet smile. “You know, I’ve been thinking,” Natasha said, “I think this tea party would be a lot nicer if we were by a scerne lake, wouldn’t you agree?” By the look of his grimminced face that too was also masked by a grin, his voice seemed to be peaceful but his eyes told a much different story. “I-I mean I suppose it would-” Jason shuddered as he put his own drink down, “Shame really.”

“Why shame though?,” Natasha interjected as she put one hand on her hip and the other pointed her thumb to the woods, “I know a great secluded pond near here that I think you’d like-” “You know I can’t do that!” Jason interrupted, a tinge of sadness prevailed through his firmness, “The cursed prince of the Anderheart family AKA, ME, stays in the tower in order lest he cause the end of the world!”

“Says who? Your dad? I don’t see him around to catch you sneaking out ya know.” Natasha spoke with a grin as she laid a hand on the stone walls, “Even from down here I know you couldn’t hurt a fly if you tried.”

“I-uh, No, I mean-” Jason fumbled as he crossed his arms inward, “What-what if I can’t control myself and accidentally step on you!?” She had the audacity to shrug. “Eh, accidents happen.” “...Natasha.” 

Before the prince could acknowledge Natasha’s rather self destructive behavior, she placed her hand on the wall gently as she looked up at him with eyes that were just as earnest as a kitten. “Wouldn’t it be nice to change scenery once in a while Jason?” Natasha said, “You have your calming agent with you so if you get uncomfortable out here we can deal with it.” She then clasped her hands together with a smile, “I’ll admit, I’d really like to see you up close.” 

Jason's expressions were unreadable as he turned away. Anxieties bubbled within Natasha as she wondered if it was too early to make such a request. She knew he was resolute about staying indoors, yet, as an outsider looking in, it pained her to witness anyone in such misery. This simply wasn’t just. 

“I suppose if one were to think about it…” Jason spoke up, Natasha darted her gaze upward, “It seems like curing my curse isn’t going to be an option, so perhaps I could train myself to stay calm and be basically normal. ” 

Natasha sighed, while that wasn’t exactly the mindset she was hoping for, it was going to be better than nothing. “So are you gonna come out?” Natasha asked. “...Yes.” Jason answered, he turned around whipping his face with his long silk sleeve.

----

“Actually- I might not be too sure about this!” Jason squealed as he was holding onto the rope, his butt having not even left the stone balcony. He sat upon the balustrade with both of his legs dangling. He could already feel the sweat form on his palms as he was gripping on the twine. They’d already been able to get the basket into Natasha’s arms and the last thing they needed to send down was the cowardly prince himself.

While a door would have been the more sane option, these towers weren’t made for prisoners to just up and leave. The only way to enter the tower, or for things to be transported in, was this measly balcony. Sure it wasn’t a problem for his druid friend who could turn into a bird anytime she pleased but, Jason was far from any wild shape master.

“You’re gonna be fine!” Natasha shouted upwards, “Just hold on to the rope and step down against the stone wall real slowly, you don’t want rope burns!” She set the basket down next to the teapot package beside her and outstretched her arms. “I’ll catch ya if you fall,” she said with a wink, “You trust me right?” “Ri-right…” Jason mumbled, he wasn’t sure if he’d developed a fear of heights or if the little Atlas pleaser in the back of his mind was telling him he was making a grave mistake. However, he’d gotten this far, and he didn’t want to get her hopes up for nothing. 

Jason took in a deep breath of the spring air, closed his eyes, slowly pushed himself off the edge and pressed his heels onto the stone wall. If it weren’t too late to turn back now, he’d be scrambling to get back to the safety of his cage. His heart was beating out of his chest and sweat dripped from his forehead as he hopped his way down. He nearly fumbled as for a moment his left foot lost traction, he gripped on tight to the rope with another squeal with his eyes held shut. His scrawny arms had already strained as he held onto dear life. “Get yourself back onto the wall Jason!!” called Natasha, her worry starting to set in, “You’re doing great for your first time!”

“I doubt that…” mumbled Jason as he swung his legs back into position and made another kick down. About two-thirds of the way through, the climb had already felt like hours rather than just mere moments and Jason was putting his full focus into not-- 

“KA-CAWH!” “AH!- aaaaAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!” 

An unfortunate crow decided that moment was the perfect time to swoop down near the eardrums of the prince and scream the song of its people. Good for the bird, not great for Jason as his hands lost grip on the rope. Jason screamed, believing his short and rather pathetic life had ended in an ironic tragedy. 

“Oh sh- I GOT YOU!” Was the last thing Jason heard before he shut his eyes, his world going dark. 

---- 

"AGH! Oh my Gods—Jason, are you alright!?" Natasha exclaimed, her voice filled with concern, as she felt Jason's limp body fall into her arms. "J-Jason!? Anderheart!? Your majesty, are you okay?!" she cried out.

She kept her balance despite the surprise leap as she stumbled from the impact. Her arms instinctively held onto him tight, her heart feeling like it could burst out of her chest with fear. Looking down upon the prince, she could feel him breathing through her hands. Releasing a sigh of relief, Natasha jostled him a little to see if he would wake up. That’s when she noticed a few things about him. Firstly; he was tiny. Not as small as a halfling or a forest elf but, he was definitely short for a grown man and he was as light as a barely filled sack of cabbages. On account of his gangly arms, he definitely wasn’t fit enough to scale the tower. Natasha wasn’t even a classically strong woman herself and yet, she was having no problem holding him.

Secondly; she noticed his pale skin which looked like it hadn't seen direct sunlight in a while, which to be fair, was the truth. Despite this however, it wasn’t pristine as there were a few tattle tale bruises from his collarbone and forehead. It didn’t take a genius to surmise that these were from surprise growth spurts from the claustrophobic walls of the chamber. If it went for the regal clothing and the sparkly dark opal on his circlet, people would believe he was in prison for a decade. 

Lastly… well, he was strikingly handsome. Natasha had to admit when she first saw him, she thought he was pretty cute from far away but, up close it was like the gods blessed this man with the jawline and fae-like daintiness. She’d felt a pang of guilt for teasing him when they first met. Sure, it probably was flirting but, her playful flirting was used to see if she could call a bluff about ‘magical growth powers’ Jason warned about. A groan startled Natasha out of her thoughts, noticing that Jason stirred and his doe-like hazel eyes, that were hidden behind his knocked askew lenses, squinted from the light. 

“Ugh, did I make … it…” Jason murmured, his fingers rising to re-adjust his glasses, before his eyes fully widened as they were met with eyes of near celestial dim wine eyes.

While they were both blushing, Jason’s face turned completely pink and despite being in a trance, Natasha could feel her arms suddenly undertake a mysterious weight. Suddenly, Jason squirmed dramatically and pushed himself out of her comforting embrace. Natasha would have been more disheartened about that if she hadn’t seen his previously frail form lurch in height.

She let the fallen angel go and bore witness to the curse, almost doubling him in size, though he somehow still looked lanky even if he was in the same size class as an earth troll. Natasha was struck with awe, staring at him without saying a word for a moment. While no fear touched Natasha’s heart in the slightest, the feeling wasn’t shared with Jason. 

The, now 7ft, prince’s face flashed with terror as he backed up against the stone walls of the tower. His gaze darted between Natasha and at the stone balcony above as he tried to catch his hyperventilating breath.  “No no no no!” Jason finally spoke up with a distinct stuttering in his voice, “It’s already happening, This was a mistake!” He spun around and attempted to grab the stone bricks with his large frail hands, failing to get anywhere as his palms stung from the rope burn. 

“I-I need to get back inside!” he shouted in panic, not noticing Natasha approached him once again to get his attention. 

“Jason?… Jason…” Natasha’s pleas fell on panic-stricken ears, “Hey, it’s okay!” She huffed when her voice was being tuned out by the prince’s scared ramblings. Her initial approach of treating Jason like a frightened rabbit wasn’t working out, so she took the next step.

His flowing shirt sleeve was jerked down hard enough to where Jason finally shut his mouth in surprise. His own shoulders tensed and he turned his gaze back down. When their eyes met once more, Natasha’s heart fell as his eyes were trembling and nearly welling up in tears.  

Oh, the poor thing.

"And check it out, you’re free!" Natasha reassured, her gesture encompassing the blossoming meadow that surrounded them. A smile graced her lips, beholding the realization dawned upon Jason. He fell into silence, his mouth slightly agape as he contemplated the situation. His eyes left Natasha and his gaze fell upon the lively grove that surrounded the tower. 

Gradually, he moved, stepping away from the tower and crossing a small water stream. Natasha followed close behind him, her grin stretching from ear to ear. She couldn't help but wonder about the sensation of breaking through the constraints that had bound him for so long.

His near-pristine shoes brushed against the fresh grass and the gentle spring breeze lifted his charcoal hair gently. There was a pause in his movement and Jason just stood there, presumably taking it all in. Natasha trotted to catch up with his longer legs and crossed her arms, joining him in admiring how lovely the forest was. 

Warmness filled her heart, seeing the childlike wonder in his eyes from the wilderwood’s kind greeting. The sunlight held the prince’s skin in a motherly embrace and songs were sung by the insect fauna. At that moment, it was as if she was seeing a whole new person.

A tear dripped down his cheek, which was followed by a soft smile. 

“Not bad huh?” Commented Natasha, nearly tearing up herself. “No… not bad at all.” Jason responded. 

----

Truly, words from Jason’s favorite novels could not have described the lovely ambiance of an enchanting forest. Glances through his window had only a fraction of the majesty of a soft breeze and the sounds of thriving life surrounding them. It was beautiful, and with the sun warming their casual stroll, one would assume Jason would have been having the time of his life. 

That couldn’t be farther from the truth. 

In actuality, Jason was in complete inner turmoil whether Natasha knew it or not. It was only just a couple of minutes since they left the view of the tower, but Jason was already being plagued with thoughts of doubt; wondering if he was a bad person for putting the world in jeopardy for a simple picnic, and he was hyper aware of every thought that passed through his mind. He’d already lost control when he fell into the comforting embrace of Natasha when he stupidly let go of the rope. Now he’d be stuck being as tall as a horse, if that horse was on hind legs. 

On the other hand though, it proved useful that he could now carry both baskets easily and keep walking pace with Natasha, who was on her steed. It would only be a minute before they arrived at this pond the noble spoke of, by then Jason could drink the tea and shrink back to normal as planned. 

However, Jason was now finding it much, much harder to control his thoughts as he’d discovered something else detrimental to the picnic plan that he didn’t account for.  

He foolishly fell in love. 

Perhaps it was the rush of being saved by a captivating and free-spirited noblewoman, but when he looked into her mystical eyes, it was as if Cupid's arrow had struck him. Unfortunately, his curse, triggered by a racing heart, wasn't connected to happiness. It was specifically romantic love that caused his growth spurts. While romantic themes in literature or daydreams about being saved by a knight could trigger the curse, he had never actually felt romantic love for another person until now. Jason barely made eye contact with Natasha since they left the tower, though he’d unconsciously risk looking at her as they kept conservation. It might have been the newness of being this close to another human being that wasn’t Ellinor, but he couldn’t help but to take in the details he noticed about Natasha, now that they were side-by-side. For trekking out in the woods as often as she did, her blouse with intricate lace was prim and proper for a lady in a well off household. Even her riding pants were only a bit stained at the bottom from the kicked up dirt. Though despite the initial daintiness her appearance was, she had a steel arm guard on her shoulder and a standard short sword holstered at her hip. Jason remembered her mentioning that she was trained to weld a blade for protection. Thankfully, it didn’t seem like she had to use it very often. What really caught his attention though, was the soft cheeks of her face and lovely eyes. Plus her braided hair was extremely impressive, and she pulled off the look very well. 

“Ahem, Jason?” Natasha spoke up as she caught him blatantly staring at her. Jason looked down, noticing that the basket handles he had looped on his forearms were suddenly tight. The horse needed to have a pat on the head to calm itself when Jason suddenly sprouted another foot and a half. “S-sorry! I’m trying to keep it together the best that I can out here…” He mumbled, swiftly staring down at his now dirted leather shoes, “I’m doing a rather terrible job at it.”

“You’re doing just fine, big guy,” Natasha responded, “You’ve haven’t attempted to flee to that dinky prison more than once.” “That’s not even what I meant…” Jason grumbled, turning his gaze back to Natasha, “Could I ask you something actually?”

“Try me,” Natasha said, looking up at the giant with an eager grin.

“Why are you not terrified right now?” Jason said as matter of factly as asking how someone’s day went, “Everyone else, even Ellinor, gets tense when I transform like this.”  

Natasha jolted a bit when she had to hold back a huge laughing fit, this just confused Jason even more. Before Natasha could give her explanation, Jason leaned down a bit over her in confusion.

“I’m serious!” Jason said, “Just because I’m not prone to violence and raised to be a polite young prince doesn’t make the growth any less strange! How are you calm about all this!?” Upon catching her breath from the laugh she had to hold back, Natasha closed her eyes confidently, petting the back of her steed’s mane. “No offense, but I don’t think you’re capable of hurting anybody,” Natasha said, “Not only that, My best friend is a lycan and trust me, those guys have it much more gruesome compared to your little spurts.”

At first Jason nodded, thinking that was a perfectly reasonable response until… “Wait!? A LYCAN!? You mean a werewolf!?” Spouted Jason, thinking he somehow heard wrong as there was no way a gentlelady like Natasha could be associated with one of the most dangerous beings to roam the Atlas forests. He had never encountered one himself, but he has read stories of mortal men being cursed to turn into fearsome beasts and eat innocent people. Natasha could see Jason’s face run pale, but didn’t let Jason squawk the lies he’s been fed. “Right, I almost forgot you’re Atlan,” Natasha said, “Most of them are nothing like the stories in your books, They’re pretty much sentient as humans are and got instincts of a dog, not a monster.” 

“But-but the attacks..” Jason mumbled. “Either bandits, or newbies who think the only way to fill their hunger is by eating people because that’s what they were told werewolves do.”

“Oh-oh..” Jason didn’t exactly have proof of his own to stand on, and the fact he is a cursed man himself didn’t have the right to assume terrible things about others. “I suppose I trust your judgment more than anyone else’s,” Jason said, “I’m sorry for assuming your friend was a beastly brute…” “Oh no he totally is,” Natasha responded with a laugh, “While he gets on my nerves, he’s been there for me since we were kids.”  “Ah.. I see,” Jason said as he rubbed the back of his neck, “Truly you are not a judgmental person.”

“What’s there to judge?” Natasha said nonchalantly. “Right we’re just about there.” 

After turning the corner, blocked by thorn bushes, Jason let out an audible gasp upon beholding the breathtaking lake. He had encountered depictions of lakes in drawings, but this scene far surpassed his expectations. The sight before him exceeded his imagination; the water sparkled under the midday sun, while life teemed in vibrant abundance all around it.

“Whatcha think?” Natasha asked, dismounting her horse and securing the lead to a nearby branch. Jason had already begun making his way toward the lake, emitting a low whistle. The innate beauty of nature had always drawn the prince, it also served as a distraction from certain matters on his mind. “The water looks nice,” Jason commented as he set the baskets down on the lush grass near the water’s edge, “Didn’t expect a lake filled with this much life to be so clear.”

Natasha was quick to approach his side and playfully elbowed his free arm with a smile. “You wanna go for a dip?” Natasha suggested, though Jason’s eyes darted away from her with embarrassed mumbles. "Actually, I can't swim," Jason admitted candidly. "Life in the tower and all that..." “Oh,” Natasha’s spirit fell a little, though life returned to her eyes when she spun around and raced towards her horse. “That’s alright! Let me get the blanket!” It didn’t take long for the picnic to be set up as they brought little to eat. However humble it was though, it was more than enough for the both of them. After all, the food and drink played second fiddle to the enjoyable company they shared. Jason had to confess that the buns Natasha had brought were not only the spiciest but also the most delectable filled pastries he'd ever tasted. 

The conversation they shared started small, but like meadow flowers, it bloomed beautifully. At one point the both of them were having so much fun, Jason’s height relaxed to a size where he could comfortably sit on the checkered blanket.

“There actually hasn’t been another heir in your kingdom,” Natasha explained as she stirred her spoon in her cup, “From what I heard, the current king is having terrible luck bearing any, so technically you’re still next in line if you wanted the crown.” “Ugh,” Jason groaned, “Even if the people magically want me to be their ruler somehow, I don’t think I’d be cut out for it...” He shifted his arms to hug his knees, taking a break from drinking to not hog all of it himself. “Heh, yeah same honestly.” Natasha answered, though didn’t seem to elaborate on what she meant as she stared off into the lake. This piqued Jason’s curiosity and he looked down at her with a raised eyebrow. 

“Say, you never really talk about who your family is...” Jason mentioned, noticing Natasha suddenly not wanting to make eye contact, “You’re a noble right?” A pit fell into his stomach when she didn’t respond right away with the warm demeanor she’d had up to this point. He lightly tapped on his cup with a finger. “I apologize if that’s a bad subject for you-” Jason tried to cool it over but Natasha interjected with a sigh. “Nah, nah it’s alright,” she said, finally turning her head in his direction, “My parents are good people, it’s just…” She had to think for a moment to find her words, Natasha fiddled with one of the loose strands on her hair. “My family is a part of the governing Circle in Solaris, has been voted in to help rule for generations.” “So you’re basically a princess?” Jason questioned, he wasn’t quite knowledgeable about Solaris politics and had a basic understanding of the democratic process. 

“Definitely not, ” Natasha responded, “The people are the ones who decide who gets to be in the Circle, I’d have to campaign just like anyone else and most of the time have a choice to run.” “But you don’t?” Jason wondered, bending down a little to be eye level with Natasha. “My parents have raised me to be in the Circle just like the generations before me,” Natasha said with anger boiling in her chest, “Hells, if I even mention the thought about doing something else other than government work they throw a HUGE fit!” She crossed her arms, still not wanting to make eye contact. 

“I hate how we honor freedom for all and yet for some reason I’m selfish for wanting to have freedom of choice!?” Natasha ranted, grabbing the sides of her head, “Now that I’m old enough for professional study, they have been insistent to tie me down to study bureaucracy! It’s just so…” “Not fair?” Jason said. “Yeah.” Natasha confirmed. 

In order to comfort her, Jason attempted to reach a hand down and pat her lightly on the shoulder in solidarity. Though as his palm made contact with her vest, his hand roiled and Jason hissed a bit in pain. Natasha jumped a little and spun around to see Jason cringing at the sight of his raw palms.

“You alright!?” Natasha asked in concern, standing up to get a better look at Jason’s hands. “Owww, that smarts…” Jason grumbled as he rubbed the small burn wounds, “My hands are still in pain from the rope incident.” 

“Let me have a peek at them,” Natasha said as she reached her hands over to gently grasp the tips of Jason’s fingers, pulling them close to her. He could feel her soft hands rub against the rough skin on the injury slightly. It caught Jason’s surprise when instead of closely inspecting the wound, she just closed her eyes and started to whisper a single word that he couldn’t quite catch. His hands jolted from surprise when a pleasant glow formed around his palms. The light managed to obscure the burns, though he could feel the rough pain from the warm wounds dissipate instantly. It felt like a pleasant chill upon his hands and just as fast as it appeared, the light faded away to reveal his hands being completely healed. 

Jason looked at Natasha in awe and before he could speak, she already had an answer ready for him. “Dad used to be a cleric,” Natasha explained, “He taught me a few handy cantrips but, I can’t do anything majorly breathtaking.” “But, you are breathtaking...” Natasha raised her head, wondering if she heard him correctly, though she was met with a sight of an incredibly flustered man who just realized that he said a thought that wasn’t meant to be said out loud. This was also the moment where Jason realized not only did he accidentally flirt with her, but he was holding her hands. 

The scandal.

Suddenly, his hands engulfed hers, and the growth spurt triggered his knees to nudge a teacup, toppling it over and threatening to break its porcelain rim. Jason’s heart was beating wildly, and the enlargement kept startling pace with it. He barely had time to scramble away from her as his surroundings became wildly different from before. His surroundings morphed into an entirely different scale, the once-shady trees now surrounded him, the once-vast lake seemed a mere puddle.

Struggling for breath, he crawled back on his hands, retreating toward the clearing's edge, which now wasn't far from the picnic site that had been so peaceful before. Horrified that his shoe was now large enough to topple it all over and it was right beside Natasha, who at this point was standing up with an unreadable shock on her face. "Jason?!" Natasha exclaimed, extending a comforting arm. "Okay, let's take some deep breaths, big guy—" She moved closer, but before she could reach him, he yelped, scaring the birds from their nests in a cacophony of fear.

"DON'T COME CLOSER!" His shout, though unintended, rang out powerfully, the potency of his voice a byproduct of his size. He regretted it instantly, aware of how dangerous his voice had become at this scale. The sight of Natasha covering her ears only intensified his heartache. Closing his eyes tightly, he felt the grass beneath him meld together, the oak branch he'd backed into pressing heavily atop his head. “Yeesh, no need to take out my hearing.” Natasha's voice pierced through, her intent unclear as she ventured closer despite his plea. He struggled to curl up further as he embiggened, knees pulling toward his chest. “I- I'm sorry.” Jason mumbled relatively quietly. The tightness in his chest didn’t alleviate and his fingers had gone numb as he gripped his hands close to his sides, beseeching his own subconscious to regain control. He hadn't been this height since…

Old spear head wounds burned on his gut and ghostly impressions of chains of his past clutched his throat. He could barely recall anything but the pain and the harsh words pitted against him by the very guards sworn to protect the family. 

His body, as quickly as it began expanding, stopped engulfing the grove they were in, however Jason could tell he wasn’t shrinking back to normal. A frightful thought raced through his mind, his stomach churned at the thought of him being stuck as a gigantic beast daring to feel anything other than dismay. 

His mind, clouded and unable to think of anything other than the pain he’d been enduring his whole life, he could hardly hear Natasha’s voice getting closer to him. Though he managed to understand some of her words as he could feel a tiny tug pull on his sleeve. “Your knuckles are going pale,” Natasha’s voice said to him, “Unclench them and breathe hun, you’re safe.” Jason swallowed, and uncurled his fingers as she requested. As he was comforted by her presence, he couldn’t help the guilt boiling up inside himself for putting her in not only an uncomfortable situation, but a dangerous one at that. He tried to speak up, but he couldn’t find the strength to talk through his hyperventilating. Immediately he was soothed by pats on the edge of his forearm which felt as if a swallow decided to perch on his arm. “Come on, deeeep breaths,” Natasha encouraged as she demonstrated herself while speaking, “Nice and sloowwww.” He struggled to find a moment, but when he did, he took a long deep breath of air and shakily released it. Feeling was beginning to return to his body as he could sense the small blades of grass on the ground and the wetness on his cheeks. Despite him re-gaining his senses, he still refused to let himself have his vision back. Deep down he knew that whatever he was going to see, it would probably make him pass out completely. Jason managed to clear his throat and speak with a pathetic whimper in his tone. 

“I-I am so sorry,” Jason said, “Th-this is very unbecoming of me… Hells, I ruined everything didn’t I?” He choked back tears, and tried his best to hold sobs. He heard a quiet chuckle that was paired with an out of place sniff, “Nobody looks dashing crying,” her voice spoke, “And that doesn’t matter… trust me you’ve done nothing wrong.” Jason could sense her presence lean over his wrist, her gentle touch petting the back of his hand just as if someone was tracing their smallest finger tip across it. “Didn’t realize how bad this could get..” Natasha wearily commented as Jason steadied himself. The giant heaved a sigh while his head hung low. “I told you,” Jason spoke, “This is why I have to be locked away…”

“That’s not what I mean.” Natasha sighed as she momentarily retracted the touch Jason yearned for. Before he could ask what she meant by that, he felt the air swish over his wrist and then a tug at his side of his waist. He’d almost forgotten he was curled up against an oak tree for a moment. He felt pressure wobble on top of his stomach, a sensation he’d yet to feel when he was rarely large like this. His ears then caught Natasha’s small voice in front of him, confirming the presence that was now standing on him was her. “Please open your eyes,” Natasha said, “I need you to look at me.” “B-b-but what if I-” Jason stammered. “It’s going to be okay,” Natasha re-affirmed, “I promise.” He froze. Two trains of thought had collided in his mind. On one hand he was worried if he were to see her beautiful face again he’d destroy the entire forest however, Jason’s trust had been handed over to Natasha many times before and if it wasn’t for her, he wouldn’t have had the courage to step outside the prison he thought he could never leave. It may have been naïve of Jason, but ever since they’ve met that fateful day he felt like he her judgment was solid. Especially how annoying she could be with her earnestness. Jason gently let his breath go, not wanting to blow away his passenger off of his chest, and opened his eye lids gingerly. 

He had to adjust his eyes from the afternoon sun shining, though once he managed to blink a couple of times to clear his vision. The scene was just about the same before he closed his eyes; his body took up nearly half of the shore of the lake and the picnic blanket could have easily been mistaken as a handkerchief. However, when his pupils focused on the figure in front of his face and standing just below his lower ribs, he noticed that an adorably small Natasha was staring right at him. Though was she… crying? 

----

It wasn’t supposed to be like this.

Natasha thought if maybe, just maybe, the prince would find happiness by stepping outside and figuring out that he didn’t need to be miserable for the rest of his life just because he was cursed. Sure, it would probably be rough the first few trips into the woods but what she failed to account for was the situation of him having a full blown panic attack. Self love evidently wasn’t easy to teach. Especially if she didn’t practice much of it herself. 

Guilt riddled her soul when she saw that mortified face and subsequent tears that followed. How could she have not realized that he was going to rehash horrible feelings from growing to a height that he was forbidden to be at? In hindsight, she shouldn’t have been so selfish and taken this entire going outside thing slowly. Her need to see his charming face up close had forced him to confront his issues far before he was ready to. Did she even have the right to trample on his boundaries like that? These thoughts boiled over as her tears betrayed her when she stood face-to-face with Jason. 

“I’m.. so sorry.”

She choked up, staring into those enormous doe eyes. His eyes were slightly red from the tears that were going down his cheeks. The uncertain twitches of his lower eyelids steadied themselves once his pupils managed to dilate upon seeing her. Jason spoke up in a gentle whisper, which at this size sounded more like it was at a speaking level with a rasp in his tone.

“Oh no no no…” Jason said, “You didn’t do anything that heeds an apology.” Natasha clenched her fists, she felt like the giant prince was just being cordial for her sake. She was hoping to hear him say that she forgives her miss-step. Her head shook. “You don’t have to be so undeservedly kind to me,” Natasha said through tears, “I messed up big time and took away your sense of safety from you… Now you’re suffering.” A lavender smelling huff of wind blew through her hair, a moment of disbelief passed before Jason spoke up again, “I’m not suffering- well, not by your hands anyway.” When Natasha didn’t give a response, the large comforting presence continued speaking. “In fact, you gave me something wonderful Natasha,” Jason said with a weary grin as Natasha looked back up at him in confusion, “You gave me a choice.”

“What are you talking about?” Natasha asked, wondering where the hells Jason was going with this. “I chose to come with you to our picnic,” Jason said, whipping his face a tad with a long sleeve, “I’d never have left by myself, I wouldn’t have had the courage to and would have been miserable.” “But aren’t you miserable now!?” Natasha interjected, “If I gave you anything, it was a heart attack!” The collar of her laced blouse was wet with tears, at this point she covered her face in shame. Embarrassment of sobbing in front of him had begun to dog pile onto her mind as well. Why did she have to be so ignorant and get themselves into this horribly awkward situation? Her own mind kept coming up with more cruel things she felt guilty of before..

Natasha suddenly felt something soft press on the side of her head. 

Her eyes opened and the sight made her gasp, if she was seeing this right; A silky blue handkerchief folded gently on a finger tip that could have been mistaken as a small bedside table at first glance. Natasha looked up and saw his eyes pleading with her. “Uhm, “ Jason whimpered, “Thought you could use this..” Not wanting to decline this adorable man’s offer, she took the favor and dabbed her cheeks with a soft smile. “Thanks…” Natasha exasperated, “Look I’m sorry for-” “Natasha.” 

“...Yeah?” “I had an incredible time with you today, Thank you for everything you’ve been doing for me,” Jason said with genuine heart in his voice, “But please, don’t tear yourself down because of my need to process… uhm. This.” He emphasized by looking down at his chest which was about as wide as a king’s bed. Natasha’s silence gave Jason more of a chance to speak his peace. "It's not your duty to ensure I'm not miserable," Jason explained, a chuckle resonating through Natasha's boots. "Your company is more than enough..." The prince's heartfelt words left Natasha momentarily speechless. Even if she didn't believe she deserved mercy, an inexplicable sense of happiness enveloped her. The sweetness of the prince's heart must have expanded along with his body. She wondered why she felt so gosh darn happy. The noble patted down her tears one more time before reaching and wrapping her arms around the finger that gave her the handkerchief, giving it a tight squeeze. 

SNAP

“Owch!” Natasha pulled away from the sound of Jason’s squeal and was met with a slightly bigger hand and the prince rubbing the of his head. There laid an oak branch upon his shoulder that was broken at the stem. A brief, stunned silence passed between them.

"I, um, apologize for that—" Jason began.

“Oh no, I should be the one sorry here- I forgot about..." Natasha's voice trailed off as she too offered her apology.

A moment of pause hung in the air, their eyes locking. And then, they both chuckled. Natasha patted the tip of the finger that Jason had extended to her, a sense of camaraderie bridging the gap between them. After all, what was there to judge?

[fountainpenguin]

Cherry Lemon Ship Masterpost

Added a #cherry lemon ship tag to my Dale x Hadley stuff (and similar musings regarding Dimmadome x Leadly family headcanons).

Block or browse at your preference 👈👈

City Lights AU & Cloudlands AU

🌸 Cherry Lemon Overview 🍋

Dale (Doug Dimmadome's only child) and Hadley (Ed Leadly's middle daughter) grew up attending fancy social gatherings together (both before and after Dale's disappearance). Weren't super close, but definitely knew each other.

At ages 19 and 16, their dads arranged a betrothal, extended it to each of them, and they accepted- both relieved to marry someone they knew rather than some out-of-state relative of their dads' business associates.

Dale knew Hadley's older sister (Harper) a bit better, but Harper flipped out and said no to being betrothed without love- Harper still resents Hadley for not fighting her betrothal, but Dale still considers her a friend despite the sisters' tension.

After Hadley turned 21, they were married in January 2012 (the wedding planned well in advance by their dads, of course). Hadley was halfway through her Junior year of college and Dale hard at work on his own studies.

Dev was born in spring 2014; Hadley posted a lot of mommy vlogger content in his youth before moving towards travel vlogging. These days, she's gone for long stretches of time, but returns home for most holidays (to film family vlogs).

They're not the most lovey-dovey, but a lot of their interests and personality traits overlap, and they are definitely one of the couples to ever be. Relationship highlights include:

- Hadley's hoarding OCD vs. Dale's neat and tidy OCD. - They are sickeningly cute in matching holiday pajamas. They're also young parents who don't know what they're doing. - Dale can list 100 things he likes about his wife, but he could also walk away from this relationship at the drop of a hat. oh no. - Dale takes his ring off a lot for sensory reasons and chronically fails to indicate he's married, so he keeps going on dates he thinks are business meetings. Sometimes he brings Dev, who is horrified. Half his associates think Hadley is his personal assistant. - Hadley is paranoid Dale will cheat on her, so she'll call randomly to ask if her name is still written on his chest in marker. Sometimes at 3:30 AM because she forgets to check time zones. Things are going great. - They have their ups and downs, but they'd pick each other every time. Probably. Huh... Maybe that IS love.

I enjoy them very much, actually. Shout-out to me sighing and dumping old drafts of Adult Dale being super nervous and shy off to the side because now I have no choice but to play him as a horrible man, sdflkj. Deep down, he's still the awkward, jumpy person I always planned to write him as... he's just actively awful too <3

🌸 Cherry Lemon Links 🍋

- This post where I designed and introduced Hadley and her fairy, Eryx (or more specifically, the reblog of that post with notes about her being Leadly's daughter since that had been revealed in 'fic, plus cute fanart Linzie drew)

- This New Wish liveblog, where I look back at my Along the Cherry Lane character outlines to confirm I did indeed set Dale and Hadley up back in the day. lmao...

- Along the Cherry Lane is my largely drafted but not yet posted 'fic about the human kids in their teen and adulthood years. Once it's revealed on AO3, you can find it HERE.

- More commentary as I debate whether to keep Dale and Hadley together in 'fic in light of A New Wish

- "Lost and Founder's Day" liveblog where I joke about how I think Dev interacting with his grandpa Ed Leadly would go

- This "The Battle of Big Wand" liveblog where I briefly discuss reasons why I think Dev's mom being a Leadly is funny

- Honeymoon sketches & additional commentary about what my original plans were for Dale and Hadley in Along the Cherry Lane (Pre-A New Wish airing)

- Dale with misophonia sketches

- Hoarding OCD vs. food sketch

- "50 Words of Dev and Hazel" 'fic announcement (Dale and Hadley appear as Dev's parents)

- Dimmadome-Leadly family tree

- Timeline fix sketches

- Dale meets Kevin Crocker sketches

- Dale getting wrapping paper

- Naming Dev "Development" together

- "You Deserve It" 'fic announcement (Reuniting after Dale's return aboveground)

- "50 Words of Dale and Hadley" 'fic announcement (Developing relationship)

🌸 Tags and Stuff 🍋

- #Cherry lemon ship tag

I made this masterpost because some posts don't show up in this tag (Not uncommon for ones edited to add tags), but I expect future posts will show.

- Hadley's full character profile (Sideblog)

Main Blog Tag - #Hadley and Eryx Sideblog Tag - #RD Hadley AO3 Tag - #Hadley Harrington

- Dale's full character profile (Sideblog)

Main Blog Tag: #Dale Dimmadome owner of Dimmadome Global Sideblog Tag: #RD Dale AO3 Tag - #Dale Dimmadome

[novemberhope]

Summary: Cordelia gets her devil fruit. Notes: I figured since I had some time on my hands I might as well put it to good use and come up with another short story. Oh well. Word Count: 2045

On this hot summer evening in Sabaody, the Rip-Off Bar was filled with people drinking and laughing. The crowd was a mix of rough pirates and pirate wannabes, all searching for fun and excitement and most of all, one drink after another. It was a lively place, but Cordelia still didn’t feel at ease here. She had no memory of her parents, no recollection of where she had come from, and had only some days ago started to trust Shakky enough to keep coming to the house to eat some food. Recently, she had even allowed herself to sleep for a few hours curled up on the couch. She never stayed long though. She accepted Shakky coming near her with food but if anyone else so much as tried that, she bolted right through the door.

The first time Shakky realized she was making progress with the little girl was when she was called names by a drunk pirate at the bar which had resulted in Cordelia biting the man’s hand. Both Shakky and Rayleigh had to held back their laughter while Shakky dealt with the angry pirate after Cordelia had ran out.

Tonight, Rayleigh strolled in, looking excited. Cordelia was standing behind the bar with Shakky, watching Rayleigh carefully as he stepped closer.

“What have you got there?” Shakky asked, pointing to the strange looking container he was carrying.

"I found something interesting on one of the pirate shipwrecks down at the shore," Rayleigh exclaimed, placing the container on the bar where currently no one was sitting.

Cordelia looked up with curiosity but didn't say anything. Although she could speak fairly well, she rarely did, except when it was just her and Shakky.

"Looks like Rayleigh brought some treasure," Shakky told her, sounding amused.

Cordelia's blue eyes widened but she was too small to see anything from where she was standing. But she was good at climbing, so she immediately ran around the bar and started to climb on the barstool that was furthest from Rayleigh.

"Let's have a look, shall we?" he said, winking at her. He already knew what was in there but he still made a show of opening the lid of the container for Cordelia's benefit, seeing that the little girl could barely contain her excitement.

Among some silver coins was a peculiar looking fruit that Cordelia had never seen before. But Shakky had.

"Is that…?"

"Looks like it… but I have unfortunately no idea what this one does." "Well, I'm not eating it, that's for sure," Shakky told him. "I like my early morning swims in the ocean too much."

"Nobody's eating it," Rayleigh said. "But that thing will surely bring a lot of money if sold to the right person."

"Yes, more overpowered pirates trashing my bar," Shakky replied, rolling her eyes.

Suddenly, people were shouting at each other in another corner of the bar. A glass was flying through the air, nearly hitting a very tall pirate in the face. He growled and spat at the other guy while the rest of the rough looking crowd at their table was shouting at them. Seconds later, both of them were having a fist fight on the floor, after bringing down the table and everything on it.

"Oh no, not in my bar," Shakky angrily said and ran around the counter. "Hey! Cut it out!"

"Always the same idiots," Rayleigh grinned after realizing who those people were. He got up lazily and followed Shakky, knowing fully well that she was able to handle them on her own.

Within minutes, people stopped shouting at each other. One of them reluctantly handled Shakky the money for the broken glasses and the damaged table.

"Now out, the whole lot of you!" Shakky said, pointing to the door. "I told you last time I don't tolerate shit like this in my bar. You want to fight, you go somewhere else. I'm not buying new furniture every time you come in here."

"Yeah, whatever," they grumbled but in the end they got up and walked towards the door.

"Better not show up around here for a while," Rayleigh warned them. Although he was smiling, there was an edge in his voice that made it clear that he did not like to be crossed.

"And now I'll have to clean up after them again," Shakky grumbled. "And you better get that Devil Fruit away from the counter, Rayleigh, before any of them sees it. I've had enough fighting here tonight." Rayleigh glanced back toward the counter. Cordelia was gone, probably scared away by the fight. But he quickly made his way towards the counter with a suddenly very uneasy feeling - and he found the devil fruit as well as the coins gone.

"Shakky!" he called.

Alarmed by the sudden urgency in his voice, Shakky came back to the counter. She took one look at the empty container and sighed. "Shit… I should have known… after being half-starved, that girl eats everything in sight and runs off with the rest, probably hoarding it somewhere."

"Let's hope she's only hoarding it," Rayleigh said. "You realize she will be our responsibility if she really ate that Devil Fruit? Those powers need to be trained - and used wisely."

"Isn't she already our responsibility?" Shakky sighed.

Looking around the bar, things seemed to have settled down. People already had returned to their drinks and conversations, so Shakky and Rayleigh quickly went outside and started to look around.

“Cordelia!” Shakky called. “Rayleigh, we’ve got to find her!”

"If she's already eaten the damn thing, something tells me she's not far off," Rayleigh said. "Those things taste horrendous."

They ran around the house just in time to see a sickening scene. Cordelia knelt on the ground, retching violently. She was as white as a sheet.

“Oh, dear,” Shakky said. She rushed to the girl’s side, kneeling down beside her. “It’s alright, Cordy. It's very bad food and you were not supposed to eat it."

"I'm amazed you managed to eat it all," Rayleigh said with a chuckle. Yes, the situation wasn't ideal. But what was done was done. At the very least, the Devil Fruit didn't seem to have altered the girl's appearance. That would make it easier to hide that she now had powers. "Most people only take one bite."

"Let's take you back to the house so you can have a glass of water to get that taste out of your mouth," Shakky suggested, gently stroking Cordelia’s hair.

Rayleigh knelt on the girl's other side, concern replacing his usual humor. “Sometimes, things are not yours to take, Cordelia,” he said softly. “That fruit you just ate was definitely not meant for you. And it will have - well, let's call it side effects. You will never be able to swim now and you need to be very careful around water. You understand that?"

Cordelia coughed, frustrated and nauseous. "I can't swim anyway," she muttered.

"Well, now you will never be able to learn," Rayleigh said. "Also, I do believe you have some coins that do not belong to you either."

Panicking, Cordelia scrambled to her feet.

"It's alright, just put the coins back in the container once we're back in the house," Shakky told her.

But Cordelia was in full-on panic mode now. She instinctively raised her hands, projecting a shimmering force field that enveloped her, pushing Shakky and Rayleigh back several feet.

“What the…,” Shakky exclaimed, caught off guard. She tried to step forward, but an invisible wall held her firmly back.

“Stay away!” Cordelia shouted, her voice trembling. She looked like she didn't understand what was going on and was more scared of what was happening right now than of Shakky and Rayleigh.

“Hey, it’s alright!” Rayleigh said, his tone soothing. “We're not mad at you. We'll fix this, ok? You can just put the coins back and we'll deal with your… ability. Just take a deep breath.”

But Cordelia was scared. She felt safe behind the force field but on the other hand, she was scared of the force field - what the hell was happening right now?

“Just stay calm, Cordy,” Shakky added, trying to keep her tone of voice light and friendly. "Don't be scared. The fruit you ate is called a devil fruit - you've seen some pirates doing things they shouldn't have been able to do, right? Remember that strange guy two days ago? He also ate one of those fruits. You have a power now too - and one that is pretty handy, it seems. It protects you - you will be very safe from now on. Nobody can touch you without permission anymore."

The words hung in the air. Cordelia peeked at the two adults through her shimmering shield, her curiosity battling her fear. Shakky stood firmly, smiling at the girl. Rayleigh, too, showed a patient expression. With a deep breath, Cordelia took a few steps back first before slowly lowering her hands. “You’re not… angry I ate the fruit?"

“Not at all,” Rayleigh replied, his voice steady. “Truth be told, if I were your age, I would have taken a bite too. If anything, we should have told you you were not to eat it."

Slowly, the force field dissolved. “It… tasted so horribly," Cordelia whispered.

"They always do," Shakky replied with a smile. "Let's go and get you a glass of water to get rid of the taste."

Cordelia hesitated. Then she slowly put her dirty little hand in Shakkys. "Ok…"

They went back in the bar where some impatient customers were already waiting to get more drinks.

"What do we have to do to get served around here!?"

"You'll get your drinks when you get them," Shakky told them off. "Now sit down and shut up. I'll be right with you."

"I'll get her some water," Rayleigh said and opened the door to the backroom for Cordelia. He did not want the girl in the bar where she might get scared and project a force field in front of all these people. "I'll be with you in a minute," Shakky told them and went to get her customer's orders.

Cordelia had sat down on the couch when Rayleigh approached her with a glass of water. He was walking very slowly and stopped some steps away from her, putting the glass on the table.

"Here you go…"

"Thank you," she muttered, not meeting his eyes.

She gulped down all the water at once.

"That must have been one foul-tasting fruit," Rayleigh grinned.

"I'm never eating one again," the girl said with a shudder.

"Well, that's good news then," Rayleigh chuckled, making sure to sit on a chair opposite of the girl and not directly next to her.

To his surprise, however, she did get up and walked over to him, stopping shortly before she had reached him. Holding out her little hand, she showed him the coins she had taken from the container earlier.

"Well, thank you," he said, gently taking them from her. "If you need some money in the future, just ask first."

She nodded and went back to the couch. When Shakky entered the back room, Cordelia had her hands outstretched, staring with fascination at the force field she had created.

"Someone's having fun," Rayleigh chuckled.

"Looks like it," Shakky said with a grin. "You want to sleep on the couch, Cordy?"

There was a tiny moment of hesitation. Then Cordelia nodded.

"Good," Shakky smiled. "Then you'll need to wash yourself and brush your hair."

Slowly, Cordelia got off the couch and walked up the stairs. Shakky and Rayleigh watched her go.

"Looks like she's slowly starting to feel at home," Rayleigh remarked.

"I was trying to look into where she comes from," Shakky admitted. "But nobody seems to know who the parents are. People have seen her around though and there are a lot of maybe this, maybe that kind of answers, but… nothing concrete. Looks like she was not rescued from a sinking ship - I'm sure that's something people would remember."

"Guess we're her parents now," Rayleigh said with a smile. "I mean, she's only one girl… after raising Shanks and Buggy, how hard can it be?"

"Oh boy," Shakky grinned. "Let's hope you're not in for a surprise…"