#they were once so young and joyful and they are ALONE !!!!!!!!!!

[kabutone]

WILL SOMEBODY TALK TO ME ABOUT PHOS

[delulujuls]

the other one | jacaerys velaryon

hi, here comes the 2.7k of i don't know what, really. its for sure intense, so fasten up your saddle and enjoy the ride. i enjoyed making aegon such a cutiepie in my two last shots, but this man is designed to be a menace to humanity so yeah, i believe im gonna lose it in the next shots. prepare for chaos.

summary: heart want what it wants, and y/n's heart belong to young prince from dragonstone, not to the future cruel king of westeros.

warnings: targaryen brothers being mean to velaryon boys AGAIN, aegon is such a meanie oh god, fighting, arguing, threatening with a sword, last scene is smelling a bit like a rap3, so feel free to skip it. your comfort is the most important

pairing: sister!targaryen reader x jacaerys velaryon (ft. jealous, possesive and dark!aegon targaryen)

Two young princes stood at the gates of the castle, awaiting guests. For several minutes they kept glancing at the sky, looking out for dragons. However, only the sound of wind and waves crashing against the rocks could be heard, with no indication that any winged beasts would soon appear before their eyes.

“Do you think they’ll come at all?” Lucerys asked his older brother, glancing at him. The cold wind chilled him to the bone, and the youngest of the Velaryons longed to return inside and sit by the fireplace.

Jacaerys did not get a chance to answer because shortly after, a muffled roar reached their ears, and something flickered in the low-hanging storm clouds. The heavy sky was pierced by the massive body of Vhagar, who was the first to emerge from the clouds and flew towards the beach. Close behind were Vermithor and Sunfyre, who looked dainty in comparison to those two giant dragons. Aemond, Y/N, and Aegon had arrived at Dragonstone.

Soon after, all four appeared at the castle gates. Helaena was flying with her older sister on Vermithor, choosing not to sail by ship with their mother, father, and grandfather. The youngest of the siblings still couldn't bring herself to travel alone on the back of her Dreamfyre, but felt confident with Y/N, now walking hand-in-hand with her sister towards the castle.

Lucerys took a step back, seeing Aemond and Aegon confidently striding towards them. The youngest Velaryon swallowed hard.

“I hope they don’t sit close to us,” he whispered, prompting his brother to discreetly nudge his arm.

Jacaerys smiled at the sight of the siblings. “Welcome, it’s good to see you here,” he said.

Aemond, leading the way, wore his characteristic grimace, nothing like the smile the young prince offered him. The last thing he felt like doing was feigning politeness. In silence, he merely glanced at them, bypassing them and pushing the heavy gate doors.

“My favorite, strong nephews,” Aegon said sarcastically, with a mocking smile. Passing by, he nudged Lucerys in the shoulder, who was about to turn and say something when his aunt’s voice reached his ears. Y/N smiled joyfully at the sight of Rhaenyra’s sons.

“Luke, Jace,” she extended her arms, hugging them both at once. Hearing the girl's joyful voice, Aegon glanced over his shoulder and rolled his eyes. He thought his sisters were too lenient with those bastards.

“It’s good to see you, Y/N,” Jacaerys smiled, embracing her and catching the smell of her lavender-scented hair. While he sincerely disliked Aemond and Aegon, he was very fond of their sisters. Helaena was shy and harmless, often speaking little and nodding more. Y/N, on the other hand, often reminded him of his mother, unafraid to speak up or defend her position. She was also wise and very pretty, and he was genuinely pleased to spend a few days in her presence.

“Are you coming, or are we going to freeze out here like a bunch of idiots?” Aegon asked sharply, seeing Y/N hold onto older Velaryon a bit too long. The young princess gave him an amused look, tousled Lucerys’ hair, and linked arms with Helaena. The four of them briskly walked towards the castle.

Rhaenyra was celebrating her thirty-second name day, so the entire family from King’s Landing had come to Dragonstone. Viserys wanted his daughter to celebrate her birthday in the capital, but she wished to spend the day her way. The ailing king, still battling illness, had no intention of arguing with his daughter, lacking the strength and health to do so. Even to the Targaryen seat, he chose to sail by ship rather than ride on the back of one of the dragons. After Balerion’s death, he had given up flying and now didn’t think about it at all.

During the evening feast, the dining hall filled with people. Despite it being Rhaenyra’s day, Viserys sat at the head of the table. To his left was his eldest daughter, beside her Daemon, Joffrey, Lucerys, Jacaerys, Rhaena, and Baela. On the king’s right sat his wife, next to her the Hand of the King, then Aemond, Aegon, Y/N, Helaena, and Rhaenys Targaryen, next to whom, at the other end of the table, sat Corlys Velaryon.

The feast went on in a calm and surprisingly pleasant atmosphere. Previous feasts often ended in arguments before they even really began. The main instigators of all disputes, Aemond and Aegon, sat quietly, not speaking much. Many might have thought someone stuffed hay into the dragons’ bellies to prevent them from breathing fire.

Aegon, however, increasingly clenched his hand around the wine goblet from time to time, hearing Y/N happily talking with Jacaerys across the table. His blood boiled hearing her so delighted with the conversation with him. He felt like slapping that fucking son of a bitch.

Helaena was also having a good time, shedding her shyness piece by piece with each sip of wine. She chatted lively with Rhaena and Baela, who were already slightly tipsy themselves. Rhaenys sent an amused look to her husband, who tightened his grip on the wine jug and pulled it closer. The Sea Snake had to be vigilant to prevent his granddaughters and the young Targaryen from getting too drunk. Helaena, however, had more to celebrate than just her half-sister’s birthday.

Since Viserys and Alicent’s daughters reached reproductive age, the Hand of the King and the Queen Mother began looking for potential suitors for them. While there was no trouble finding suitors for Y/N, who, besides her wealth and possessions, had a strong character and good disposition, finding a husband for Helaena was problematic.

From birth, the princess showed signs of abnormal development. Though she grew as a girl should, her mind seemed not to keep up, still trapping her in a world of childish dreams. Helaena was quiet, read a lot, and spent all her time in the garden, not burdened with unnecessary duties.

The Hand decided that when the time came, that is, when Aegon was to take the throne from the ailing king, he would marry Helaena, and Y/N would marry Forrest Frey. The plans were made at a Small Council meeting, which neither Helaena nor Y/N attended. Probably neither would have known about the plans to marry them off if Y/N hadn’t accidentally overheard their conversation when one of the doors unguarded by sentries was ajar.

“I don’t agree!” she said firmly, pushing the heavy doors and entering.

“Y/N, you can’t be here-,” Alicent stood up, wanting to calm her daughter, but she sharply pointed her finger upwards. “And you can’t do this to Helaena! I don’t agree!”

Aegon, who was one of the people at the table, also didn’t support the Council’s idea. However, he was too drunk to make any objections. Only his sister’s intrusion somewhat sobered him up. If he had to choose, he could marry Y/N since she wanted to fight so hard for Helaena’s better fate. Frankly, he didn’t care either way.

The guards first wanted to remove the young princess, but she began presenting her arguments. The Council didn’t think an eighteen-year-old’s arguments could make any sense, but many underestimated Y/N’s negotiation skills. In the castle, by Aegon’s side, she could be more useful than in the Riverlands beside Forrest Frey.

The Council decided that Helaena would marry Frey when the time came, and Y/N would marry Aegon. The young princess didn’t want Helaena to spend her life in the castle, locked in chambers and bearing children. She wanted her to break free from King’s Landing and experience a life different from the one she had lived so far. Y/N knew that unlike her sister, she could handle an incestuous marriage and an unwanted husband, who Aegon was to become in the future. Helaena might have been driven to suicide.

But for now, these were just tomorrow's problems, or who knows, maybe even further. Helaena, in a sudden burst of joy, stood up and climbed onto a chair, much to Alicent’s horror.

“To my beloved sister Y/N,” she said, swaying. Rhaenys held the chair to prevent her from falling. “And to my sister Rhaenyra, who celebrates her birthday today. I love you!”

Alicent, Otto, Aemond, and Aegon looked at her indulgently, raising their goblets. All the other guests eagerly toasted, applauding the young princess’s words. Rhaenyra stood up from the table and hugged her sister; Y/N also rose to do the same.

“Helaena needs rest,” Alicent whispered, gripping her daughter’s shoulder before she stood up. “Escort her to bed.”

Y/N shook off her hand and got up, embracing her sisters. However, when she felt Helaena’s heavy body in her arms, she held her close around the waist.

As soon as the sisters left the dining hall, Jacaerys, sent by his mother, joined them. Young prince apologized to Y/N and with a single, confident motion, picked up Helaena, who laughed and wrapped her arms around his neck. She kissed his cheek, admitting that she would let such a handsome man whisk her away without hesitation.

Jacaerys only let go of Helaena when he placed her on the bed in her bedroom.

"Will you stay with her until morning?" he asked as Y/N began removing the rings from her sister's fingers.

"Helaena usually sleeps like a mouse under a haystack, but after wine, she sleeps like a rock," Y/N replied, smiling slightly at the sight of her sister's flushed face. "Wait outside, I'll change her for bed and join you."

The young prince nodded obediently and left the chamber. He stood outside the door, straight as a string, feeling like a guard. Shortly after, the princess joined him, quietly closing the door behind her.

"She'll sleep like a baby until morning," she assured, laughing softly.

"It's nice to see her with a smile on her face," Jacerys admitted as they slowly began walking down the corridor. He quietly offered his arm to Y/N, which she gladly accepted.

"I've noticed she smiles much more when she's here. I feel like the capital is suffocating her."

Jacaerys lowered his gaze. He had recently learned about the marriage plans for the young sisters.

"I heard she'll leave King's Landing sooner or later," he said, glancing at her. He didn't know how delicate ground he was entering.

The young princess sighed and nodded. She spent the whole way telling Jacaerys about everything that had happened in the past weeks. In the company of the boy, Y/N didn't feel like his aunt, as their relationship would suggest, but like a friend. After all, they were only a year apart in age. They had always had a good relationship and, unlike her hostile brothers, Y/N really liked Jacaerys. She cherished every opportunity she could spend with him. This was one of those moments.

The pair didn't return to the feast; instead, they went to one of the terraces. They sat on one of the benches, and Y/N involuntarily rested her head on the boy's shoulder. He wrapped his arm around her waist, hugging her close.

"You deserve more, Y/N," he said quietly. "Both you and Helaena deserve more."

"I know I'll manage, I'm strong," she said, watching the remnants of the day dance on the horizon. "But I'm so scared for Helaena. She deserves the whole world, not what's waiting for her in King's Landing."

The young princess wasn't sad; at this moment, she could even say she felt a lightness in her heart. Jacaerys' body warmed her pleasantly, and the cool, salty air chased away the heat caused by the wine from her cheeks.

"You're the bravest dragon I've ever known," he said with a smile, looking at her face. The girl smiled at his words. "I don't know stronger people than Targaryen women."

"Do you really think so?" she asked quietly, looking into his eyes. She didn't know if his cheeks were flushed from the wine or the cold wind. Nevertheless, his dark eyes looked at her so gently that the young princess never wanted to look into any other eyes again.

Jacaerys smiled and nodded. He cautiously lifted his hand and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. He touched her cheek and gently stroked it with his thumb.

"I would take better care of you than they would, you know?" he said after a moment, his whisper lost in the whistle of the wind. Y/N heard his words clearly, just as she clearly heard the snort of disdain that came from somewhere to the side.

"I don't know which of you is more pathetic," Aegon said, looking at them with drunken eyes. He could barely stand, but his fists were clenched. Aemond remained silent, standing in the entrance and blocking it with his body. Unlike his brother, he didn't look drunk.

"What is your problem?" Y/N asked angrily, standing up. Unintentionally, she shielded Jacaerys with her body, who also rose from the bench.

"That you act like a complete whore," he spat through his teeth, causing Jacaerys to step around the girl to stand in her defense. She grabbed his hand and pulled him back when Aemond drew a dagger and stepped forward, defending his brother.

"Watch your words," Jacaerys said angrily. He didn't care that he was addressing the future king. In his eyes, Aegon wasn't worth anything, and he certainly didn't deserve to be Y/N's husband.

"Or what, bastard?" Aemond asked calmly, looking at him intently.

"We haven't done anything wrong," the young princess said sharply, though her voice trembled. She knew that her brothers were unlikely to hurt her, but she wasn't capable of protecting Jacaerys from both of them. She had only her hands, feet, and teeth at her disposal. "Get out of the way."

"Oh, really?" Aegon smiled. His drunken eyes were shiny from alcohol and dark-circled, his skin ashen. Even despite the fire of hatred burning in him, he didn't have a bit of a blush on his face. "I see a fucking dog clinging to my future wife."

"You wish she were your wife," Jacaerys said without thinking much about the words that left his mouth. Aegon lunged at him with his fists, to which the young Velaryon responded in kind. Aemond sheathed his dagger and grabbed Jacaerys by the shoulders, holding him and exposing him to Aegon's blows. In the commotion, the young princess managed to draw her brother's dagger and without hesitation, grabbed Aegon by the hair, pulling him back. With tears on her cheeks, she pressed the sword to his neck.

The four of them froze in place.

Aemond still held Jacaerys tightly, blood was trickling from his lip. Aegon's heart was pounding, not from fear but from adrenaline and, at that moment, also from excitement. His sister's small hand was firmly gripping his hair, forcing him to tilt his head back. Blood flowed from his broken nose, running down to his grinning lips.

"She's a dragon, see?" Aegon said, addressing Jacaerys. "You couldn't handle her, fool."

Y/N pushed her brother to the ground, releasing the dagger from her hands as well. She grabbed Jacaerys' hand and pulled him from Aemond's grasp, who would have lied if he said his sister's behavior didn't leave him speechless. In shock, he wasn't even able to oppose her.

"I'm so sorry," she began tearfully, pulling him away as far as possible from that place. "I should have killed them when I had the sword in my hand."

Jacaerys pulled her by the hand, causing her to turn around suddenly and fall into his arms. Without a word, he kissed her, feeling her salty tears mix with the blood from his split lip. Y/N returned the kiss but looked at him in shock. Jacaerys smiled warmly at her.

"Don't apologize to me," he whispered, cupping her cheeks in his hands. "You are a dragon, so be a dragon."

The pair didn't return to the feast. Instead, Y/N went with the young prince to his chambers. Jacaerys initially protested when she said she would help dress his wounds. Eventually, he agreed to her proposal, lying on the bed in just his trousers. The girl carefully cleaned his cuts, placing a cold compress on his abdomen. She sat beside him, looking at him tenderly.

"I'm so sorry, Jace," she whispered, squeezing his hand. The boy, however, seemed to be in a good mood.

"If every fight with them means I get to spend time with you, I'm ready to fight them every day."

The young princess smiled and shook her head at his words. She felt her heart swell when she was with him.

Their eager lips exchanged a few more kisses before Y/N quietly left his chamber, returning to her own. Helaena was still sleeping soundly, snoring softly. She lay on her side on her half of the bed, not even stirring when her sister began preparing for sleep. Dressed in a nightgown, she let her hair down and carefully combed it. She put the brush away and blew out the nearby candles, lying down on the bed.

As soon as she covered herself with the quilt, she felt someone sit on her, pressing her into the mattress, and a cold hand covered her mouth. The girl wanted to scream but felt a blade against her neck. The attacker leaned over her, his hair tickling her face. The young princess smelled alcohol.

"Every time you raise your hand against me," Aegon whispered, tightening his grip on the dagger's hilt, "I'll have one of your fingers cut off, understood?"

Y/N squeezed her eyes shut and nodded. For the first time in her life, Aegon truly frightened her. She felt her heart leap into her throat.

"And that fucking Velaryon dog," he moved his hand from her mouth to her hair, gripping it tightly. "I never want to see him near you again."

"Aegon-" she whispered with difficulty, clutching his wrist to push him away. She felt herself running out of breath, and the cold blade pressed deeper into her skin.

"Is that clear?" he growled, pressing her harder into the pillows.

"Yes," she said tearfully.

A moment later, she felt her brother's alcohol-tainted lips forcefully and brutally kissing hers. Aegon stood up shortly after and left the sisters' chamber, closing the door behind him. In the darkness, the young princess found her sister's body and hugged her from behind, trying to suppress her tears. She was terrified.

How much she wished she could hide in Jacaerys's arms at that moment.

[timmydraker]

Thinking about how we see such an amazing bond between Damian and Dick, with the older being a mentor and big brother and in a lot of ways a parent to Damian. It’s beautiful to see Damian have someone who lets him be a kid while still understanding that he’s god the mind of a soldier and that those things can conflict and clash badly.

And just as Damian has Dick, I want/believe that Tim had Jason.

Even though Tim got to see Dick as Robin, that was only after the acrobat had been doing it for a while. But with Jason, Tim got to see him from start to, unfortunately, end. He got to see the young joyful boy who brought a different kind of light and excitement to Robin, as well as a deeper understanding of how the streets of Gotham worked in those eyes only a few years older than him.

Jason dying impacted everyone and by no means was Tim affected the most, but he was still affected pretty heavily. His whole reason to exist while his parents were away was to watch the Robin sore and he looked up to Jason more so than Batman because they were so close in age.

Tim becomes Robin, Jason becomes Red Hood and both of them have to deal with gigantic emotional mess than comes with Jason trying to kill him and then changing his mind only after the younger survived anyway.

Everyone has traits similar to Bruce and Jason is the best at mimicking the man’s emotional awkwardness but he does his damn best and I genuinely think that Tim pushes that a lot.

With Damian it’s different because Jason saw first hand how talented the boy is, even if it came at the cost of a childhood, so he doesn’t have to worry as much. In some ways the boy even trained Jason.

But Tim? He’s book smart as hell, but Jason can’t get past the fact that he’s so similar to how him and Dick once were. He’s just a normal kid who wasn’t raised with a sword or gun in his hand. It was half the reason he had been so angry at Bruce, because it wasn’t that someone took his place it’s that even though he had a literal child die with that suit on he still let another take his place.

Jason worries over him, is the one most likely to banter with him and listen to him talk about his technical nonsense even if he doesn’t understand a damn thing. He doesn’t belittle him, just teases and jokes when others are around, but when they’re alone it’s quiet conversations our philosophy and stress and the endless cycle of villains and heroes fighting.

It’s safe for both of them, as Jason gets to do what he needs to to heal himself through his younger brother and Tim gets a support that isn’t demeaning and overprotective.

It’s a difficult balance and they do have arguments, but they are quicker to sort it out with each other than with anyone else in their family or even their lives.

Bruce totally isn’t jealous of either of them.

[pitchsidestories]

ball of the undead II Manchester City Women x Reader

masterlist I word count: 1344

a/n: dear readers, happy halloween, have fun ! 🧡🖤

“Any plans for Halloween?“

The question took you by surprise. You hadn’t even thought about that yet.

Usually, you didn’t care much for Halloween. The only good thing about that night were the parties. With your birthday being the following day, there was never a shortage of opportunities to celebrate. The only question that occurred every year was just which party you and your friends would go to.

But this year was different. You had just moved to Manchester in the summer and left your clique behind. It was the first time that you would celebrate without them, in a new city and without your silly little traditions.

The thought left you suddenly feeling very lonely but there was no time to dwell on it. Mary was patiently blinking at you, waiting for an answer to her question.

You forced yourself to smile at the young Australian: “No, not really… Maybe I’ll stay at home and watch some trashy horror movies.“

Alanna frowned at you as she emerged from her post-training shower with dripping wet hair: “But isn’t your birthday the next day?”

You shrugged nonchalantly: “Yeah but that’s only the next day.“

You could feel their eyes on you as you changed out of your football clothes, but no one said anything. You breathed a little easier when someone finally changed the topic. You really didn’t want to seem like the new girl who’d sit around alone on her birthday.

You mumbled “Bye “as you slipped out of the dressing room a few minutes later.

Unbeknownst to you, Mary turned to her teammates once the door fell shut behind you: “Girls, do you think what I’m thinking?”

“We can’t let her celebrate Halloween like that.“, Alanna answered decidedly.

“No, we’ve to celebrate together.“, Leila agreed.

Mary nodded enthusiastically: “We should organize a Halloween party for her.“

“I’m in.“, Alanna said.

“I’ll help too.“, Alex chimed in, a determined look on her face.

“I can bring some spooky sets.“, Lauren suggested, meaning her much loved building blocks.

Chloe rolled her eyes: “Hempo, that’s cute and all but it’s a party.“

“Do we have a motto?“, Jill asked the group.

Alannas eyebrows knotted together: “Let me think.“

“She likes Bridgerton, right?”, Mary suddenly remembered.

“She does.“

Alex smirked: “So Ball of the Undead then?“

“I like that.“, Mary clapped her hands happily.

Alanna nodded: “I think she’d too.“

“Okay, let’s get to work, chicas. Halloween is right around the corner.“, Leila laughed.

“I’ll build her a flower bouquet.“, Lauren decided which once again caused Chloe to roll her eyes at her: “Spooky.“

The girls kept planning the Halloween slash birthday party which was only interrupted by joyful laughter or eyerolls.

On the evening of Halloween, the things you bought for dinner and the threated empty, lonely appartement weighed heavy on you. But the expected quietness when you opened the front door was disrupted by your teammates cheering. “Surprise!”

“Wait, what?!”, you started at them surprised.

“Happy Halloween.”, Alanna exclaimed with a wide grin on her lips.  

“Wow.”, you muttered under your breath letting your eyes wander around the living room, open kitchen area of your home which they decorated heavily. There was a chandelier placed on the dinner table, covered in cobwebs and lit wax candles. At the kitchen counter you could see a huge lego flower bouquet most likely built by Lauren herself.

“She’s not happy.”, Mary sighed disappointed.

“No, I love it. How did you decorate everything so fast?”, you disagreed heavily. It warmed your heart to see how much loving detail your teammates had put in the decoration.

“Teamwork.”, Alanna explained proudly.

“Amazing. Thank you, girls.”, you smiled at them grateful to call these women your teammates.

“You’re welcome.”, Leila hummed while hugging you and pressing a kiss to your cheek.

“I appreciate it a lot.”, you said hoping they knew how much this meant to you. A pad on your shoulder made you turn around to face Chloe who was holding an elegant dress in her hand which could have been straight of the Bridgerton set if it wasn’t covered with a bit of fake blood to make it spooky.

“Here’s your costume. Get ready to party.”, she advised smiling.

Quickly you put on the dress while Alex began to explain the motto of the party. “The theme is..”

“Spooky Bridgerton, chica.”, Leila who was wearing a classy suit ended the sentence for her chuckling.

“That’s my favourite show.”, you beamed.

“We know. What’s your favourite spooky movie?”, Alanna asked.

“It’s night of the living dead I think.”, you replied smirking.

“Is it very scary?”, the Spanish defender questioned biting her lip nervously.

“Very.”, you confirmed chuckling.

“Hempito, I need you here.”, she decided.

“Yeah?”, Lauren blinked confusedly at the dark-haired woman.

“I need you to protect me from the frightening things happening in the movie.”, Leila stated in an uncharacteristically serious tone.

“Okay, I’ll protect you.”, the blonde winger giggled.

“And what about me?”, Laia pouted playfully.

“Then I’ll protect you both.”, Lauren declared who was rather amused by the tall Spanish defenders being scared by spooky movies.

“You’ll love it.”, you tried to assure them.

“We’ll see.”, Alanna said.

As the movie flickered on, you raised your glass that someone had put in front of you: “Cheers, witches!”

The others followed suit with exception of Jill.

“Who are you calling witches?”, she asked, scrunching her nose as she entered the room.

Vivianne appeared next to her, carrying her dog in her arms: “Sorry, we’re late. Myles costume took longer than I expected.“

She held up Myle who was wearing a small set of bat wings and didn’t look too thrilled about it.

Your jaw dropped in awe at seeing the puppy: “Oh my god!”

“At least she looks adorable.“, Vivianne smiled and set Myle down on the floor.

“I think you all look amazing.“, you complimented your teammates. They were all dressed as different kinds of undead beings in fancy dresses and you loved everything about it.

Alanna ruffled through your hair: “We only had her for a few weeks but I want to keep y/n forever.“

“Keep me? I’m not a dog!”, you frowned up at her.

“Don’t reply, Lani!”, Mary warned her teammate.

“I won’t.“, the older Australian agreed.

Shaking your head about the two, you quickly changed the topic: “More snacks, girls?”

“Yes.“, Lauren answered for them.

“Coming right up.“, you smiled and disappeared in the kitchen to grab some food.

Lauren smiled brightly at the sweets offered to her: “Thanks.“

“You’re welcome.“

You just settled back onto the couch to watch the movie when all of a sudden, Alanna yelled: “Girls, turn the TV off. It’s almost midnight!”

Everyone scrambled to their feet at the same time. You had no idea what happened but all around you was pure chaos. The Halloween decorations mixed with Birthday decorations and you suddenly held a glas of champagne in your hand.

“Time to raise the glasses!”, Alex announced at the stroke of midnight.

Your teammates all lifted their champagne flutes and toasted to you.

“I’ll get the cake.“, Vivianne promised.

You bit your lip, your heart felt soft and tender as the dutch player returned with a Halloween-themed birthday cake.

“You even got me a cake?”, you asked in disbelief.

Leila laughed: “Of course we got you a cake.“

“That’s so sweet of you.“

There were not enough words in the world to express how loved you felt and how grateful you were for your teammates.

Alanna grinned, clearly satisfied with the surprise: “You’re welcome.“

“Happy birthday, y/n.“, Mary whispered as she pulled you into a hug, just at the right moment so you could hide your wet eyes on her shoulder.

You managed a wobbly smile: “Thank you, girls.“

“Blow out the candles and make a wish!”, Alanna instructed you.

You gladly did what you were told, blowing out all the candles in one breath. But there was only one wish you could think of: Turning your old birthday tradition into a new one with your teammates.

[httpswritings]

if you were my little girl: the series part 2

alexia putellas x child!reader; this story contains mentions of traumatic experiences as drug addiction, child abuse and similar topics. don't read it if you find those topics triggering.

Silent Guardian

The days blurred into a kaleidoscope of drills, sprints, and the comforting thud of the ball against your foot. But there was a new element to your routine – Alexia. True to her word, she started attending your training sessions, a silent guardian on the sidelines. Your heart would skip a beat every time you saw her, a jolt of encouragement coursing through you with each approving nod.

The facade held. Your parents, wary of an audience, behaved with a semblance of normalcy in public, so Alexia's suspicion of you being in danger faded.

Every goal you scored, every perfectly weighted pass, was a victory not just on the scoreboard, but over the darkness that lurked within your home. Alexia's cheers, a joyful eruption amidst the roar of the crowd, were a balm to your little but damaged self.

Alexia couldn't help but watch you closely. The way you reacted to the world, how certain things seemed to touch you more deeply than others, it tugged at her heart. It wasn't a weakness she saw, but a tenderness that made her want to stand between you and anything that might cause you pain.

Silence Breaks the Bond

The months blurred into a kaleidoscope of drills, sprints, and the comforting thud of the ball against your foot. But on the sidelines of your victories, a different reality waited. Your parents, physically present, were emotionally absent. Empty lunchboxes on the counter remained a daily reminder of their disinterest, a stark contrast to the cheers echoing from the training grounds.

They didn't care about your school life neither did they help you with your homework.

To be fair, they seemed like normal stressed parents worried about work and paying bills.

They were ghosts, navigating their own anxieties, leaving you to navigate yours alone.

You started doing bad at school.

Failed exams, no homework done, complains from teachers, etc.

At the tender age of seven, the world of learning seemed to have lost its allure, replaced by a growing sense of disillusionment.

The once-sparkling curiosity that had defined you was now dimmed, replaced by a veil of melancholy. The vibrant colors of your childhood were fading, replaced by a somber gray that mirrored the turmoil within you, grappling with a burden that seemed too heavy for your young shoulders to bear.

Alexia became a source of unexpected pressure. She'd noticed your withdrawal and failing grades, her playful questions morphing into a worried insistence you tell her what was wrong. You longed to confide in her, but the trauma remained a locked vault within you. Your silence, fueled by fear and confusion, was misinterpreted by Alexia as defiance. The frustration simmered in her eyes, a stark contrast to the warmth you once knew. The unspoken words hung heavy between you, a heartbreaking consequence of your unspoken pain.

Alexia's words hit you harder than any punishment your parents could dish out. Her disappointment, a word laced with hurt, echoed in the empty space where your secret pain resided. The fear you'd been holding back morphed into a suffocating dread. "Letting her down" felt like a betrayal, a confirmation that your silence had pushed away the one person you trusted. The weight of guilt settled on your shoulders. Maybe Alexia was right. Maybe you were just being a brat, making everything worse. But the truth, the darkness you couldn't speak of, felt like an insurmountable wall, isolating you further.

A Sanctuary Built for Two

The midday sun beat down mercilessly on the training field, mirroring the intensity of the practice session. Drills were brutal, pushing you to your physical and mental limits. But amidst the exhaustion, a memory, a dark tendril from the buried trauma, surfaced unexpectedly. Tears welled up in your eyes, blurring the image of the coach barking orders, his voice a distant echo.

The memory was vivid – your mother's hand, rough and unforgiving, twisting into your hair. You tasted salt, tears mixing with the remnants of uneaten food. Your whimpers, a desperate plea, were lost in the chaos of the moment. It was a recurring scene, one you'd desperately tried to compartmentalize, to bury deep within the recesses of your mind.

You stumbled, legs weak, vision obscured by a veil of tears. A hand, strong and steady, caught you before you could hit the ground. It was Alexia, her concern etched on her face.

"Hey, what's wrong?" she asked, her voice laced with urgency. But you couldn't speak. The words wouldn't come, trapped behind a lump in your throat that constricted your breathing.

Alexia didn't need words to understand. Her arm wrapped around your shoulders, a silent haven in the midst of the chaos. She gently held your body on her arms and took you to the coolness of the locker room, a sanctuary away from the prying eyes on the field.

The locker room was a stark contrast to the sun-drenched field. Here, shadows clung to the corners, and the air hung heavy with the lingering scent of sweat and disinfectant. Alexia ushered you onto a bench, its worn leather cool against your burning skin.

For what felt like an eternity, you were unable to speak. Sobs wracked your small frame, your only sound a desperate struggle for air. But Alexia didn't push, didn't force you to talk. Instead, she sat beside you, a silent anchor in the storm.

"Breathe, little one, breathe," she murmured, her voice a soothing balm. "I'm here. I'm here." Her words, a gentle mantra, slowly coaxed you back from the precipice. Slowly, your sobs subsided, replaced by ragged gasps for breath.

Tears continued to stream down your face, but they were different now, cleansed of the initial terror.

Alexia didn't insult you for crying. Alexia didn't hit you.

Alexia was different.

Building a Safe Haven

Alexia, staring at your failing grades and withdrawn demeanor, felt a pang of something deeper than disappointment. It was a dawning realization – a fear that maybe everyone, including her, had been failing you. Here you were, at the tender age of seven, already burdened by a weight no child should carry.

The love she held for you, a love stronger than she ever anticipated, twisted with a fierce protectiveness. She saw the spark in your eyes dimming, replaced by a dull ache of something unspoken. Maybe, she thought, the answer wasn't pushing you harder, but stepping back. Allowing you the space to simply be a child, to rediscover the joy of scraped knees and silly jokes, just like she had done when she was younger.

It was a humbling thought, an admission that her initial approach, fueled by worry, had missed the mark entirely. Perhaps, the greatest act of love wouldn't be pushing you towards some perceived potential, but creating a safe haven where you could just be you.

The smell of betrayal

The final whistle blew, signaling the end of another grueling practice. Relief battled with exhaustion as you slumped against the fence. Alexia appeared with her her usual bright smile, joined by Mapi and Ingrid.

She reached out for her almost daily hug, the one you always cherished. But this time, the familiar warmth was tainted by a sickeningly sweet, fermented odor. It hit you like a physical blow. You pulled back abruptly, your nose scrunched in disgust.

"You smell weird," you blurted out, the words laced with a coldness you didn't recognize in yourself.

Alexia faltered, her smile collapsing. "Oh," she chuckled nervously, "it's just... well, the season's over, and I, uh, had a celebratory sip of beer with the team."

Mapi said something to you but you weren't able to hear it.

It wasn't the beer itself. You didn't know the taste, even if you had witnessed countless nights where your parents drowned their sorrows in amber liquid. But the smell – that was the monster. It was the reeking ghost of countless nights spent huddled in fear, the acrid air clinging to furniture and clothes, a constant reminder of a childhood that was being stolen by addiction.

The love you held for Alexia battled with the rising tide of anger and despair. "Well, you can go so you can keep celebrating," you muttered, your voice flat.

"No! But I...I wanted to introduce you to Mapi and Ingrid! They couldn't wait anymore to meet you!" Her voice trailed off, lost in the chasm that had suddenly opened between you.

You stared at her, the playful glint in your eyes replaced by a steely glint of hurt. Your usual tenderness, the very quality that drew you to Alexia, had vanished, replaced by a wall you didn't even know you could build. The damage was done. The smell of beer had become a cruel reminder that you couldn't escape that substance, because you'll find it in every adult.

The silence stretched on, heavy and awkward. You poked a hole in the dirt with your shoe, the playful glint in your eyes replaced by a frown. Alexia's happy face seemed to wilt under your scrutiny. You didn't want to hurt her feelings, but the yucky beer smell clung to her like a bad memory.

"Maybe," you mumbled, kicking another clump of dirt, "grown-ups aren't supposed to smell like yucky beer. Maybe they're supposed to smell like, like..." you scrunched your nose, searching for the right words, "...like cookies!"

Alexia's cheeks flushed red. You weren't sure if it was from the beer or because you'd caught her in something you considered bad. It made you feel even grumpier. Cookies! That's how grown-ups should smell, not like something that makes your tummy feel poorly, thinking how you always witnessed your parents throwing up.

Suddenly, a lightbulb went off in your head. You puffed out your chest, trying to look as grown-up as possible. "Maybe," you declared, sticking your chin out, "I don't need hugs anymore. Maybe I don't need anyone who smells like yucky beer!"

A big, fat tear rolled down your cheek. You hated crying, but the words just tumbled out before you could stop them. Alexia knelt down slowly, her eyes filled with a sadness that made you feel a tiny bit bad. Alexia realized something must had to happened to you to be so disgusted by beer.

"Hey," she said softly, wiping away your tear with her thumb. "It's okay to be mad. But remember," she held out a finger with a sparkly ring on it, "I'll always be here for you, even if I mess up. Pinky promise?"

You hesitated, wiping your nose on your sleeve. Maybe she wasn't so bad after all. But all you wanted right now was to go inside, hug your stuffed bear, and pretend the bad smells and confusing grown-up things didn't exist.

Taking a deep breath, you looked up at Alexia. "Maybe," you whispered, barely audible, "maybe you could smell like cookies tomorrow?"

Alexia's smile was small, but it reached her eyes. It wasn't the usual bright smile, but it had a spark of understanding. "Cookies sounds delicious," she said, ruffling your hair gently.

The Most Important Match Of All

The car door slammed shut, the harsh sound echoing in the otherwise quiet street. Alexia watched the taillights of your parents' car disappear around the corner, a knot of unease tightening in her stomach. You had left, a small figure dwarfed by the backseat, your face a mask of conflicting emotions.

She turned to Mapi and Ingrid, their faces etched with concern mirroring her own. "I wasn't expecting her to be so upset," Alexia confessed, her voice a low murmur.

Mapi, ever the pragmatist, offered a tentative smile. "Maybe she's just shy, Ale. Kids can be like that sometimes, especially around new people."

But Alexia shook her head, a flicker of doubt clouding Mapi's optimistic facade. “No, this feels different. She was so excited about the idea of meeting you. Then, the second she noticed the smell of alcohol...“ Her voice trailed off, the memory of your sudden withdrawal a fresh wound.

A pang of guilt shot through Alexia. She had been so focused on nurturing your talent on the field, on pushing you towards your potential, on making you her heir to La Reina title, that she might have missed something crucial. Had she been too blindsided by her own ambition, neglecting to see the emotional landscape of your life?

Ingrid, the quiet observer of the group, stepped forward. Her eyes, usually so calm, held a steely glint. "There's something more going on, Alexia. I can feel it in my gut. Her parents seem...well, normal from the outside. Polite, hardworking. But that doesn't mean things are sunshine and rainbows behind closed doors."

Shame washed over her. She had prided herself on being your mentor, your confidante, yet she had failed to see the silent cries for help. The realization was a bitter pill to swallow. Here she was, a celebrated athlete, yet she had fumbled the most important match of all.

"Maybe you're right," Alexia admitted, the words hollow in her mouth. The past few months flickered past her inner eye – your dwindling appetite, the exhaustion clinging to you like a shadow, the plummeting grades that you brushed off as a temporary dip. Signs she had chosen to ignore, attributing them solely to the pressure of training.

Taking a deep breath, Alexia pushed the self-pity aside. You were home with your parents, and that was where you had to be for now. But a fierce determination ignited within her. Things were about to change. She would find a way to bridge the gap, to create a safe space where the mask could finally fall away. The road ahead wouldn't be easy, but for the first time, Alexia wasn't just looking at you as a prodigy with boundless potential. She saw you for who you truly were – a vulnerable child in need of support, a child she wouldn't fail again

The price of cookies

The warmth of freshly baked cookies, a pact between Alexia and you, still lingered in the air whenever she was around. Yet, a subtle transformation had taken root. The once jovial mentor had morphed into a vigilant sentinel. Her gaze, once playful, now held an undercurrent of suspicion, scanning your surroundings like a hawk. Every interaction, every word exchanged with someone new, was dissected with a silent intensity.

The incident from the other day had shattered the illusion of a seemingly perfect world. The realization that normalcy, like a facade, could conceal a hidden darkness gnawed at Alexia. It felt like a betrayal, not just of her trust, but of the haven she'd meticulously built for you – a world where football was a source of joy, not a potential escape route. Memories of scraped knees and goofy jokes now felt like faded photographs tucked away in a forgotten album. In their place, Alexia had constructed an invisible shield around you, a desperate attempt to ward off the world's harsh realities.

What words can't describe

Alexia gnawed on her lip, her stomach a tightly wound knot. Building trust with your parents felt like navigating a minefield. It was essential, she knew, but the thought of putting on a facade left a bitter taste in her mouth. Yet, when your parents invited her over for dinner, a forced smile flickered on her lips as she accepted.

Stepping into your apartment, a wave of conflicting emotions washed over her. It was normal. Two bedrooms, a comfortable living room bathed in warm light, and even a small balcony overlooking a quiet street. Relief battled with the nagging suspicion that had taken root in her mind. Everything was clean and tidy, a picture of domestic normalcy that clashed with the unease she couldn't quite shake.

The sight of you, however, brought a genuine smile to her face. Your eyes held a spark of joy that had been missing for weeks, and a wave of protectiveness washed over her. She followed you to your room, the air thick with the sweet scent of childhood. This was your sanctuary, your safe space. Pink and white walls were adorned with a mishmash of treasures: a menagerie of stuffed animals, a rainbow of storybooks, and a collection of dolls in various states of wear and tear.

One doll, however, stood out. A Nancy doll, the limited edition modeled after the Spanish National Team, held a prominent place on your shelf. Alexia felt a tug at her heartstrings.

"That's you," you said shyly, your cheeks dusted with a rosy blush.

Alexia's heart melted.

She didn't know how she got to the point where she felt an overwhelming love for you.

Glancing at the opposite wall, her gaze softened even more. There, proudly displayed on a corkboard, were your artistic creations. Football pitches in vibrant greens and blues, colorful caricatures of your friends, a self-portrait with a gap-toothed grin, and a collection of drawings that featured a prominent figure – Alexia herself, rendered in all her glory (or at least, your interpretation of it).

"That's also you," you said, pointing at a drawing of her mid-dribble, a determined expression etched on her face.

A warm chuckle escaped Alexia's lips. "I'm starting to feel like a permanent resident here!" she joked, the sweetness of your gesture a balm to her worry.

"I could make you a real one," you offered, tilting your head with a hopeful smile. "A drawing, I mean."

The offer felt like a lifeline tossed in a stormy sea. "I'd love that.”

[hollyoongs]

⤷ SINGLE DAD TAESAN FELL IN LOVE!

시놉시스 ┆𝘁͟aesan, ─────⠀f!reader 𓂅 𝑤.𝑐: +6k ꒰ ⌗ angst, mutual pinning and a lot of fluff ꒱ ↷⠀ ℰditoral ! 𓂂

“Come on, Dad! I’m going to be late for the recital!” Dohyun was dragging his young dad through the hallways of the school, his cute little elf costume already out of place due to the running from every member of the family.

“Dohyun, we are getting there! Just slow down a little for your grandparents!.” Taesan said, smiling when his son behaved and all three adults could walk slightly slower.

“God Lord, Dohyun! I’m putting you in track classes or whatever it’s called,” Taesan’s dad said, making his grandson Dohyun smile wide.

“Shut up and buy some snacks.” Now it was the turn of Taesan’s mom to talk out to him, giving him a few dollar bills so that he can have the food. The two adults and the kid went straight to designated places of the school theater. Once the kid was seated, his grandma fixed his clothes as Taesan got out his mom's makeup pouch to retouch Dohyun’s makeup. Once Grandma was finished and gave a good luck kiss on the forehead to his grandson, they ran to the back of the stage, saying “Sorry” every now and then to any person that he slightly pushed.

He looked for a seat that was available and thanked the person that left it hidden. Dohyun ran to sit, and Taesan followed behind, kneeling in front of the kid with the makeup pouch fully opened.

“Hold still, Dohyun.” Taesan whispered, carefully dabbing a bit of blush onto his son’s chubby cheeks as he learned from the moms of the class, making him scrunch his nose a little as he giggled.

“Dad! It tickles!” Dohyun squirmed, his tiny elf hat slipping over his eyes.

“Hey, hey, we can’t have the cutest elf in the recital looking like a clown, even more if it is my son.” Taesan teased as he gently readjusted the hat and wiped the stray makeup he did with his thumb. He looked around when his son asked for a bathroom break, noticing how the kids had their moms beside them and smiled with slight nostalgia.

Being a dad at 20 was no joke to him, but it was a responsibility Taesan was going to fulfill the moment he held the little body of Dohyun in his arms. At fifteen, he hadn’t known much about life; he was barely old enough to understand himself, let alone how to raise another human being. But of course, he was big enough to know where to place his dick, and it was not inside his underwear. 

His mind was not prepared for his girlfriend passing away in a car accident the day all the family was going to the delivery appointment. The memory haunted him like a vivid nightmare, one that he couldn’t escape. He remembered holding her hand. chattering about names and what features the baby might inherit, everything changing in a split second.

The air was not joyful as before, but heavy with desperation. The screech of tires, the deafening crunch of metal, and how everything spun out of control were etched into his mind. The moment he looked at his right side dizzy, it hit him like a punch; she was gone, and with her, part of his heart left with it.

Dohyun had to be delivered through an emergency C-section and directly to the NICU, hooked up to wires and monitors that thankfully beeped steadily. He remembered how he was clinging to that sound like a lifeline, being the only sign that something—someone—had survived. A part of her.

Her parents didn’t even let him come to the funeral, firm believers that it was his fault for her passing, or in her father's words that were covered in venom and grief, “You ruined her life.” And he still remembers the lack of strength he had to argue because, deep down, he believed it too. 

The hospital stay was a blur, exhaustion and paperwork that he needed to help himself with the phone and his parents. But he remembers the moment he was left alone with a days-old Dohyun. The nurses had wheeled the bassinet into his room, and he simply stared. Who could imagine a human could be so small, so fragile, and yet so heartbreakingly real?

When Taesan had Dohyun in his trembling arms, it was like a button had been pushed that made him break into tears. He cried a river—deep, gut-wrenching sobs that shook his entire body, not even caring how his parents saw, for the first time ever, him turning into pieces. 

He cried for her, for his ruined future with her, for the childhood he was about to lose, and for this new role he had to take alone. He cried until he felt his head hurt and both of his parents' heads on each side of his shoulder, hugging the two of them as they cried with them, watching the pacific face of the sleepy baby.

Dohyun was a piece of her, a tiny reminder of the girl he had loved. He wasn’t ready to be a father, not by any stretch of the imagination, but Taesan realized he had two choices: step up or let life swallow them both whole.

And he chose to step up.

He was already used to pitiful looks and disapproving words from every direction. He heard it all, whether the words were whispered or written on someone’s glance. At first, it stung like salt on an open wound, but he managed to make those people's words the background noise of their life.

His parents were no exception. When they first found out about the pregnancy, their disappointment was a physical barrier between them. They barely spoke to him; he felt like a stranger in his own home. But at the seventh month of her pregnancy, they had a change of heart. The small change involved raised voices and tears, deciding at the end that they wanted to be involved.

Even with the anger piled up, he would always catch her mom knitting tiny blankets in the evenings, and his dad began painting the extra room they had at home and searching for cribs.

Dohyun became their world. Taesan and his parents worked together like a family. His mom took care of Dohyun when Taesan had classes, a non-negotiable for the parents to keep living in the house; his dad taught him practical parenting skills he never thought he’d need, and he worked two part-time jobs to make enough money for him.

There were sleepless nights, endless worries about money, and moments when the grief was still present. But he overcame it; thankfully, he got a scholarship to the best university thanks to his grades and finally got a stable job that pays more than enough.

“Dad, I need help with my suspenders.” He slightly shook his head when he heard the voice of his son, smiling at how he was looking weirdly at the piece of clothing.

“To the rescue.” He took him by his arms and sat him on an empty table, making airplane sound effects. From the corner of his eye, Taesan noticed movement by the door, realizing it was you going in with a clipboard, ushering parents, and checking on the kids. The soft red cardigan gives you a beautiful glow, and your hair accentuates your features beautifully. He could feel his heart skip, like it always did when he saw you.

You were your mom's current replacement as a teacher; you were on college vacation, and you took that time to help out as your mother was on a trip until New Year. He didn’t know there was a change until he saw you for the first time, giving him his son after a small class picnic, being hooked by you.

Sure, he felt ashamed to start having a crush on his son’s teacher, a teacher that was the same age as him, but there was something about you that made him feel safe. It wasn’t just your beauty, though that alone could make anyone lose their breath. It was the way you carried yourself, the way you spoke to the kids with kindness. It was how you listened—not just heard, but truly listened—to the worries and small triumphs of every parent who came to you, as if their world mattered as much as your own. 

Taesan wasn’t even sure when it started. Maybe it was the day you knelt down to fix Dohyun’s shoelace with a smile that crinkled the corners of your eyes. Or maybe it was the first time he heard you laugh because of his clumsiness around you—a sound so warm that it felt like his own heart being full. He only remembers his mother pushing him after she realized his feelings for her when he went to a parents meeting with her favorite flowers.

Whatever it was, it was undeniable now.

“Dad, you’re staring.” Dohyun’s voice cut through his thoughts once again, dragging his gaze from you to the tiny smirk on his son’s face.

“I’m not,” Taesan replied quickly, his ears flushing pink as he clipped Dohyun’s suspenders in place. “I’m just making sure my favorite elf is recital ready.”

“No… You were looking at Miss Y/N again.” He raised his eyebrows several times, teasing him, and Taesan was about to hide under that table.

“Just be quiet, or you will not have hot chocolate at home.” He used his dad card, and the kid “zipped” his mouth. But not long after that, he dropped a sentence that felt like a snowball being smashed on his face.

“Can Miss Y/N be my mom?” 

“Dohyun, lower your voice!” Taesan’s voice was barely above a whisper, his face now fully red, matching the poinsettias decorating the room for ambiance. 

“Why? Grandma says she’s nice, pretty, and that you like her.” Dohyun was so unbothered, completely the opposite of his panicking dad. He had to finish working in the suspenders and put him on the ground. Kids really had the uncanny ability to expose your deepest thoughts without even trying.

“It’s… complicated, buddy,” he somehow managed to say, smoothing down Dohyun’s costume as a distraction. “And it’s not something you can just ask. She’s your teacher, and I’m—”

“Handsome, responsible, and funny!” Dohyun interrupted, and Taesan's eyes widened. “That’s what Grandma says. I say you make the best pancakes. She’d like you if you made her pancakes, Dad.” 

“You’re spending too much time with your grandma.” Taesan shook his head, trying not to laugh at the attempt of both his mom and his own son, trying to make him find someone.

“It's okay, Dad. I’ll tell her for you. Miss Y/N!” Never in a million years would Taesan have imagined his son screaming at the top of his lungs, drawing the attention of everyone backstage. His face turned a deeper shade of crimson as he watched you walking to both of you.

You arrived in no time, smiling at Taesan before kneeling down to his eye level. “Yes, Dohyun?” you asked warmly.

“My dad wants to ask you to—”

“If the makeup is well executed!” Taesan came up with an excuse faster than the speed of light; he made a ‘quiet’ gesture to Dohyun when he saw you viewing the makeup.

“Yes, Taesan, it’s well done. You got better.” 

“Okay! Listen up, we are about to go to the stage. Please separate into groups: Santas, elves, and reindeer." The other teacher that was in charge of the choreography called out the kids, and Dohyun left them both alone. The parents of the rest of the kids were starting to leave, rushing to their seats to set all the cameras to record every moment of their child's recital. “Let’s rehearse before we go to the stage.”

A touch on his shoulder made him turn his sight from his son to you, the culprit. You smiled softly at him, and he couldn’t help but do the same.

“How are you, Taesan? You haven’t been around for a few weeks.” You said, going around collecting some trash left behind, him helping right away willingly. 

It was refreshing having someone the same age as you around, aside from your college friends, and you couldn’t lie to yourself that meeting Taesan was something that you would love to do in all your lives. 

He was not only handsome, but how he was a person spoke volumes about his character—gentle, attentive, and full of strength. He also had this goofy side of him; he only showed his son that you could catch a glimpse of it and laugh quietly without the duo noticing it; his clumsy side, however, was the one you saw the most.

“I’ve been good, just work and college. I got vacation from both, and that’s why I could come to see Dohyun.” Taesan replied, trying to keep his tone steady as he picked up a stray juice box.

“That’s amazing. He couldn’t stop mentioning every day how many days were left for you to be on a break.” Both of you laughed, going to the trash cans and depositing everything in your hands.

“He made me practice his lines, and not to brag, but his dance is amazing.” You give him a soft chuckle while Taesan scratches the back of his neck. 

“He’s adorable, and he’s lucky to have you. You’re doing a great job, Dongmin.”

Whenever you said his real name, it was like a warm hug to his heart; he felt reassured and couldn’t help but break into a smile with the words coming from you. “Thank you, Y/N. It means a lot.”

“Y/N, the kids are about to go to the stage; take the “reindeers.”” Another teacher caught your attention, and you remembered why you were there in the first place.

“I’m going! You should also leave backstage; seeing your son in the front is so much better." Because of the excitement, you grabbed his hand and gave it a squeeze, your fingers intertwined, that left him shocked. You looked down on what you did and immediately lost his hand from yours, embarrassed. “Sorry!”

He saw you running to your designated group, catching a small glimpse of how your ears turned red. Taesan stood there for a moment, his hand tingling where yours had just been, as if your touch had left an imprint. 

He walked out of the backstage area with a lovesick smile, a smile that was caught by her mom, who laughed quietly with her husband. He took the recording camera from his backpack when the place exploded with claps and cheers; the kids were slowly entering, and Dohyun spotted Taesan immediately. 

He waved at Dohyun with equal excitement when he realized he was front row and center, letting his parents know, and they also brought up their phones with the same excitement as him. His eyes went to you; you moved gracefully across the stage, gently guiding the kids into their spots with a smile, whispering encouragement to a nervous child—you were a natural at this; even if it was not your job, you still poured your heart into it.

The lights dimmed, and the music began to play. He couldn’t help but smile tenderly and chuckle at Dohyun’s acting and dancing. He was the best and stayed on beat, almost the same as he used to do when he was a child, or that’s what his mom told him. The room was filled with the sound of parents cheering and clapping as cameras flashed to capture the adorable chaos of mismatched choreography.

You could be slightly seen with two other teachers clapping along and mouthing the words to the song as you watched the kids with pride. The moment the performance ended, there was a burst of applause, and Taesan was so into the moment that he even stood up, cheering louder than anyone to make himself noticed to Dohyun, followed by his parents. 

Dohyun bowed dramatically, soaking in the attention like the tiny star he was. The curtain of the theater shut down slowly, and he watched his clock; he had time.

“Mom, can I ask you for permission for something?” His mother looked at him and nodded. “Can you help me next week in making Dohyun fall asleep early?”

“What day? You sound very specific.”

“December 24th.” His mom opened her eyes and gave him full attention.

“On Christmas Eve? You better give me a good reason.” She said, his arms crossing on top of her purse.

“I’m going to take Y/N on a date.” He could see how a happy face was starting to form on her face. 

“Oh my! Finally, I guess she accepted your date.” She said, her hands clapping together, and he just could scratch the back of his head. His mother's face lit down. “You didn’t even ask her, did you?”

“Yeah, I just want to grab the car keys to go to the flower shop, give her flowers to congratulate her on this show, and then ask her out.” His mom watched her watch and quickly analyzed a pamphlet about the show schedule that she was handed before it began.

“You have thirty minutes before Dohyun’s second act. Go, now.” Taesan kissed his mom's cheek and grabbed the car keys, walking outside the theater before running to the parking lot. Since he already gave her a bouquet of her favorite flowers, he will do it again but with her second favorite, and it will be something equally thoughtful but not repetitive. He drove quickly to the flower shop he had frequented since realizing his feelings for you, one that was near the school and was owned by one of his parents' friends.

“Another bouquet for the teacher?” Sungho teased, arranging the blooms when he saw his friend coming in.

“Her second favorite this time,” he admitted with a sheepish grin. Sungho picked out the flower after he gave him the name, and before he focused on decorating the present, he extended a white card.

“Write her something; you will not always give her only the flowers, do you?” Taesan quickly grabbed a pen from the counter and thought about it, writing almost immediately.

By the time he returned to the theater, his hands held a beautifully arranged bouquet of white lilies and soft pink carnations, neatly tied with a silver ribbon. Before he went inside backstage again, he looked around to see if there was anybody there, but knowing that in ten minutes it would start, Dohyun’s second act, they were rehearsing downstairs.

He spotted you near the dressing rooms, helping one of the kids adjust their Santa hat. He gathered every ounce of courage he had to approach you with the bouquet in hand. Not realizing there was a chair and hitting his leg with it, making some noise in the theater and catching your attention.

“Oh God, Taesan! Are you okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine.” He stammered, rubbing his shin awkwardly and clutching the bouquet tightly in his other hand. “I, uh, didn’t see the chair there.”

“You have a talent for finding things to trip over, don’t you?”

“Guess it’s a skill,” he joked, his ears burning and looking at the flowers, extending his arms to you. “These are for you. I probably won’t see you after the show since I promised Dohyun to go to Lotte World as soon as this finishes. The show so far has been amazing; you did amazing. Congratulations.”

Your eyes widened as you took the bouquet, the thoughtful arrangement making you smile and the fragrance of the flowers shutting your eyes. “This is so sweet, Dongmin. Thank you.”

“It’s nothing,” he was quick on his feet saying that, relaxing at that moment as he watched you admiring the flowers. “Also, what are you doing on December 24th?”

“Honestly, since both of my parents are on that trip and my sister is with her family, I was just thinking of binge-watching the Harry Potter saga and ordering food.” You said, and it was like a December miracle for Taesan. “Why the question?”

He inhaled deeply and tried to maintain his composure. “I was wondering if you’d let me take you out for dinner on Christmas Eve.”

Your pretty eyes went straight up to him, big and round in surprise and slowly melting into a softer look. “Like a date?”

“Yeah. But it’s okay if you don’t want it; probably me asking that question makes you feel weird. I’m so sorry; you can act like nothing—”

“I would love to go on a date with you.” You interrupted him, and that’s when he paid close attention to you; your cheeks were flushed, and an unusual shy smile was on your face. A pretty view for him.

Taesan just stood there, blinking a few times, processing your answer as his heart leaped at your words. “Wait. You would?” His question was practically whispered in order to not fool himself.

“Yes. I have Christmas activities with my sister’s family in the afternoon of the 25th, and I’d really like to spend my Christmas Eve with you.”

Taesan’s early awkwardness was a fast exchange for pure joy, a smile on his face exteriorizing what he was feeling at that moment. “Okay, great! I will text you what you have to wear and the time. I’ll pick you up.”

The sound of the bells announcing that the act will start in less than two minutes made you both flinch a little, popping the bubble you two created. You started stepping back, tripping with a table on the way and laughing because of your nerves. At least he was not tripping this time.

“Sounds amazing! I mean… yeah. I’ll be in touch with you.” you said, your voice trailing off and an embarrassed look on your face. “I got to go to place the kids. See you on the 24th!” 

This time you ran to the dressing rooms, noticing how you held the flowers so carefully it might fall. When he saw that nobody was around, he couldn’t help but jump in joy because he did; he got out of his comfort zone and decided to give himself another chance to love. He ran back to his place with his parents; his mother didn’t even let him sit.

“Did she say ‘yes’?” Taesan looked at his mom, the smile still on his face, giving her mom a nod; she slapped him on the shoulder in happiness. 

Taesan sat watching the curtain being opened again, paying close attention to his son but already feeling completely excited a week in advance.

Taesan checked himself in the full-length mirror located in the living room. Dohyun was deep in sleep after reading him a fairytale with his parents. The clock was pointing to 7 pm, and it was about time to pick up Y/N from her place; he sighed in a way to calm his nerves out.

“You look really handsome, son.” His mother's voice made him look at her through the mirror, giving her a side smile. She came next to him and moved him so both could be face to face. She fixed his son's tie and the collar of the long coat he was wearing to protect himself from the cold. “Why are you nervous?”

“I haven’t had a date in like six years.”

“It's because you were healing, son. Losing someone as precious as Dohyun’s mom was, it takes time to close that wound. But I’m proud that you’re ready to open your heart again.”

For the first time in a long time, his mom cupped his face; her eyes were watery, trying to keep her tears from falling. “Y/N is a wonderful young girl, and if Dohyun adores her, then you can bet she’s special.”

“Thanks, Mom, that means a lot.” He squeezed her hands on her face and gave her a kiss. 

“Go get her son.” She gave one last encouraging word, and she extended a small present that he bought for the girl. He grabbed the car keys, saying goodbye on the way out. 

The car ride to your house, he had to put on some music, distracting himself and only making a small stop at the flower shop once again, Sungho was already outside with another bouquet, this time with red roses and winter greenery, tied together with a pretty green ribbon resting on the passenger seat.

He shut down the car in front of your house, taking a deep breath before stepping out with the flowers. He knocked on your door with his heart beating faster.

“Coming down!” He started to look around; the streets were decorated, and the lights were as colorful as they could be. He listened to your heels and paid attention to the door being open, his mouth opened a little, taken aback by you.

You were dressed in a long, deep emerald green dress; a long coat was also draped over your shoulders, and your hairstyle framed your face like a picture he won’t forget. 

“Wow…” he couldn’t help but say that out loud, making your cheeks flush to the compliment. “You look breathtaking; I have no words.” 

Your smile widened at his sincere reaction as you stepped out onto the porch. “Thank you, Taesan. You look perfect; I love it.”

He held out the bouquet of roses with his signature shy smile. “These are for you.”

You took the flowers, smelling the sweet fragrance that made you calm your own nerves. “They’re perfect. Let me put these in water before we go.” You disappeared into the house briefly, leaving him to exhale deeply as he watched your figure respectfully from behind.

When you returned, he offered you his arm like a gentleman. “Shall we?”

You chuckled, slipping your arm through his. “We shall.”

The car ride was filled with a comfortable silence at first, the soft hum of holiday jazz playing in the background. Occasionally, you couldn’t help but glance at him, the way his fingers tapped the steering wheel in rhythm with the music, his focused view on the road, and even his focused pouts that made you smile without him noticing it.

He caught you looking once and shot you a quick, boyish grin that made your stomach flutter.

“So, are you going to tell me where we’re going, or is it a surprise?” you asked.

“A little bit of both. Actually, we just arrived.” He pulled into the parking lot of a cozy, upscale restaurant adorned with twinkling fairy lights and garlands. The festive ambiance spilling out onto the snowy street caught your eye the moment you stepped out of the car when he opened the door for you.

“Taesan, this looks amazing.”

“I’m glad you think so. I wanted tonight to feel special for the both of us.” He paused a second before he showed the palm of his hand. “May I?”

You didn’t hesitate on putting your hand, interwining your fingers, “Yes, Dongmin.” 

Inside, the restaurant was even more magical. There were candles flickering on every table, a live jazz band in the corner giving amazing ambiance, and the waiter already pointing at your table. Taesan opened the chair for you, and when you sat, he went directly to his spot. 

Your table was near the fireplace, and you were thankful for that because of the cold weather. Your coats were being taken away, and you looked at him directly in his eyes.

“Be honest: how long have you been planning this?”

You could see his ears turning red, a sheepish smile making your heart skip. “If we speak about me building the courage to ask you on a date, a couple of months. If we talk about the date, it came all together this week.”

“Months?” Your surprise was genuine, and he simply nodded. He didn’t seem to be that shy anymore, a small amount of confidence in his aura. “I had no idea.”

“We were busy, and I wanted it to be perfect,” he admitted, leaning slightly forward, his hands resting on the table.

“Well, so far, it’s perfect. Probably the best Christmas Eve I’ve ever had in all my twenty years.”

His gaze softened with relief. “That’s great to hear.”

“Good evening, I’m Jihoon, your waiter of the night. Here are your menus, and let me know what you would like to eat.” You two gave a small bow and opened the cards. Taesan sneaked a few looks at you when you glanced over the options.

“What would you recommend? You seem to know this place pretty well.” you said, setting your menu down.

He gave a low chuckle. “Their steak is fantastic, but if you’re not a fan of that, the salmon is also great. Or… we could share a couple of appetizers and try different things."

“Look at you, already planning for us to share.” You raised an eyebrow playfully.

“Just an idea,” he shrugged, grinning at you.

After placing your orders and receiving them, the conversations flowed effortlessly. From favorite holiday memories to even sharing facts about you two, Taesan is already doing mental notes for anything in the future.

“I can’t believe you were always selected for the school shows when you were little. No wonder Dohyun dances so well.” You laugh as you drink your glass of wine. Taesan raised his shoulders, feeling proud.

“It’s true,” he said, his new playful side shining. “I was a star back in the day. They couldn't resist my moves. And now Dohyun’s carrying my legacy.”

You laughed again, infecting him in the process. “I’d love to see old videos of that. I bet you were adorable.”

“Oh no, you’d never let me live it down.”

“Probably not,” you teased, swirling your wine glass. “But it’d be worth it.”

He shook his head, smiling. “I’ll think about it. Maybe if this goes well, I might show you.”

You decided to mess with him a little, so you tilted your head, faking curiosity. “‘If this goes well?’ You mean it’s not going well already?”

You saw how he froze for a moment before realizing your teasing tone. “Oh no, it’s going perfectly. I just mean—uh, you know, if you’d want to go out again sometime.”

“I think I’d like that, Taesan.” You let that grin escape from your lips naturally.

The plates were cleared in the middle of the conversation, being changed by a dessert—a shared crème brûlée that Taesan insisted you try first—he watched you with a soft gaze, a gaze that made your heart flutter.

“Want to know something?” You broke the caramelized sugar with your spoon as well as the silence. “I didn’t expect this night to feel so comfortable.”

“Really? How so?” he asked with his brow raising slightly with his curiosity peaking. You extend your spoon with a portion of the dessert in it right in front of him; he looks at you seriously, and you put on your best doe eyes.

Contrary to your belief, he took the spoon and copied your movements before. “I insist, Y/N. Try it first.” His voice was deep and warm. It made you feel a shiver down your spine, and, reluctantly, you took the spoonful of dessert, the creamy sweetness melting on your tongue. 

“Oh my God, wow,” he smirked, satisfied at your reaction.

“Told you. This place never disappoints.” He grabbed another spoon and ate a portion he picked himself. You two were still eating and talking when the waiter came.

“Sorry for interrupting, but it’s already late, and we need to close. Here’s your bill.” Taesan and you looked at each other, wide-eyed in disbelief. You grab your phone from your purse and gasp.

“Taesan, it’s 11 o’clock.” You put your phone back in your purse to grab your wallet but stopped when Taesan gave you a soft look, giving his credit card to the waiter.

“I’ll take you home right after this. No worries,” he said, caressing your hand with his free hand.

“Thank you, but next time, I’m paying,” you crossed your arms playfully.

“Next time? I’ll hold you to that.” The payment was fast, and you saw another waiter holding both of your coats. The female waitress put the coat softly over your shoulders and so did Taesan once he put the card back in his wallet.

The moment you stepped out into the cold night air, the crystal door finally had the “close” sign. As you two walked to the car hand in hand, snowflakes began to fall gently from the sky, settling on your hair and on the coat like they were feathers. “It’s snowing,” you murmured, your breath visible in the cold air.

Taesan glanced up and then back at you, his steps slowing down as he admired you. “It is,” his voice was almost like a whisper, but loud enough for you to hear. “Kind of perfect, isn’t it?”

“It truly is.” When you reached the car, he opened the door for you; his hand brushed yours as you got in, and he slid into the driver’s seat and started the engine.

The drive back to your house was quiet but comfortable, taking your time driving since the streets were not completely full due to the people sleeping or celebrating either in a bar in Itaewon or in their houses. 

When he finally pulled up to your house after a beautiful trip watching the lights, he turned to you, his hand resting on the steering wheel. “We have finally arrived. I had a really great time.”

“Me too, Taesan. It was unforgettable.”

“But before we finish this night, I have one last thing.” Taesan stretches himself to open the glove compartment, revealing a small box wrapped in Christmas-designed paper. He took it and waited for you to react. “It’s 10 minutes till Christmas, but happy holidays, Y/N.”

Your breath hitched as you stared at the gift in his hands; it had been a long time since you celebrated either the holidays or received something, the reason why your eyes were watering a little. “Taesan, you didn’t have to…”

“I wanted to. Go on, open it.”

You carefully peeled back the wrapping under his sight, and you actually couldn’t contain your happiness. Inside was a delicate bracelet; the center had a small charm of a sun that shimmered under the light.

“I picked the sun because, it may sound cliché, but you have this light that attracts people and makes everything warmer and brighter with just your presence. just like the sun,” he finished with a soft and genuine smile. His words settle over you like the snowflakes outside.

You blinked, a tear falling as you smiled. “Dongmin, I don’t even know what to say.”

“Say you’ll wear it,” he offered with a small smile. His fingers brushed against yours as he gently took the bracelet from the box. “Here, let me.”

His hands were warm despite the chill in the air; they were as warm as your heart. You’ve never felt this loved by somebody aside from your family, and this dinner just confirmed that you had more than just a crush on Dongmin. Once it was secured, he turned your wrist, taking a risk to deposit a kiss on your hand.

“All done.” Your eyes met, and it was like time was running slowly, all to both of your favor to taste the moment. 

“You’ve just created an amazing Christmas Eve.” This time, you cupped his face with your free hand, feeling how his thumb traced imaginary figures on the skin of your hand.

“I’m happy to hear that. Should we call it a night?” he asked softly, though his tone hinted he didn’t really want the evening to end.

“Only if you promise there’ll be more dates.”

His grin was immediate; his confidence shines through his aura. “I promise. Many more.”

“Then, yes. We can call it a night.” You both laughed, the feeling of tenderness in every fiber of your body.

“Let me walk you through the door.” After Taesan said that, he stepped out of the car before you could even protest, quickly rounded the vehicle, and opened your door, offering his hand to help you out.

As you reached the small porch, you took out your phone, watching exactly that there was one minute till Christmas, and you smiled. You stopped your steps, and Taesan did the same, looking at you with tenderness.

“Everything okay?” he asked, tilting his head in an adorable manner.

“Yes, I’m just waiting for the midnight fireworks.” You pointed to the sky; the moon shined brightly, and you could see how he was focused on seeing the moment. “Taesan?”

“Yes?” His gaze went back to yours; his hair had some snowflakes that made him look adorable.

“I want to give you something; just close your eyes.” He raised his eyebrows in surprise but didn’t hesitate to do it. Your gaze went back to the phone, then seconds.

You put your things carefully beside you on the floor, your eyes on his pretty pink lips, before closing your eyes and putting your lips on top of his. The fireworks decided to join as background noise and the cheer of some people in the street who were watching the show. But that truly didn’t matter.

The world seemed to pause in the warmth of the kiss. Taesan froze for a moment, startled, but quickly melted into the moment. His hand cupped your cheek gently as the other one snaked to your waist, pulling you closer to him.

He wanted to cuss when you finally pulled back, breathless and cheeks flushed, your eyes found him staring at you with wide eyes with his lips parted slightly in surprise. “That’s… quite the Christmas gift.”

Taesan’s eyes caught something above your head and gave a soft laugh, pointing at the object. “You’ve been planning this, haven’t you?”

“In my defense, my sister decorated the entrance. But I’m grateful for it.” You both were now staring at the mistletoe.

“That makes two of us,” Taesan replied softly. his hand now holding both of your hands. You took his hands and kissed them before taking all your stuff from the ground, taking the key of the house, and opening it. You stayed in the door frame with a silly smile on your face.

“Merry Christmas, Dongmin.” You spoke, and he did a small bow to you.

“Merry Christmas, Y/N,” he said. He started to walk away, and you closed the door. You left your stuff on the table beside the entrance as your back was resting on the door, your heart beating like crazy. A few seconds pass, and you get startled by a knock on the door.

You opened fully when you saw Taesan again.

“Is there something—” His lips crashed with yours, his hands on your waist with confidence, and your hands simply traveled to the back of his head. He lifted you from the ground without breaking the kiss, spinning in the same spot, smiling in the middle of the kiss.

When Taesan finally set you down, both of you were breathless with your foreheads resting against each other, shy and giddy smiles on your faces.

“I couldn’t leave without doing that,” he confessed, his thumbs gently brushing your sides and your hands on his shoulders, trying to steady yourself.

“And I couldn’t let you go without telling you why this date was so comfortable to me,” you sighed, feeling your heart rising as the nerves came back to you. “I really like you, Dongmin, and I would love to be your new chance to love again. I don’t care that you’re a single dad; I don’t care if you made mistakes in the past; what I care about right now is if you feel the same way as I do.”

With each word you said, you saw how his gaze got softer. “You’ve no idea how long I've been trying to find the right moment to say it, but I’m going to say the truth. I’ve been a little scared of what it could mean and of what might come next. But you turned my life upside down with just a smile and gave me the courage to finally do it.”

His hands grabbed yours, the tension beginning to ease away as your feelings were reciprocated. “I’m all in if you let me, Y/N. I’m ready to try and make you fall in love each day.”

“Dongmin, I’m already in love.” His hands slid from your hands to hold your face the second you said that, initiating a softer and slower kiss. You both could feel all the positive emotions in your bodies. Even more joy.

“God, I’m glad I didn’t leave,” Taesan whispered, making you chuckle, your heart swelling with warmth.

“I’m glad you stayed.” His smile was all you needed to confirm that this was right, that love had found its way to both of you in a way neither of you expected, yet both had been yearning for.

─── IT BEGAN TO LOOK A LOT LIKE CHRISTMAS! and this present is for all my people in @onedoornet thank you for this amazing year and let's keep growing this community. forever grateful with @gluion for letting me in ❅

[divaofmads]

Remember Me | Din Djarin

The account where I found the gif @tomshiddles

**WARNINGS**: Non-canon, no y/n (Crystalia/ Nickname as Cala: When your father noticed your abilities, he made a deal with Ahsoka, thinking that a Jedi should train you. You trained for three or four years, but Ahsoka had to leave.), Fluff, Soft Sex, Toxic, Obsession, Age Gap, Erotic, !!+18 Only!!, Death, Drama, Virginity Loss

English is not my native language. I am just trying to improve my writing skills. So I apologize for any mistakes I made.

Word: 4k∼

Pre-Story: You are a princess. A warrior princess from a rich planet. You had a happy life until Moff Gideon invaded your planet. You learned that Moff Gideon wanted to marry you when he was collaborating with your family. So you ran away and found Din Djarin to get revenge and kill him. You knew about the war they had with Moff Gideon back then. But it was out of business, you fell in love. You were going to get married after the planet was saved. You gave up your right to the throne.

Although all the Mandalorians helped you save the planet, Moff Gideon understood the bond between you and Din Djarin and was tempted to kill you. He distracted Din Djarin so that you were alone, and eventually managed to kill you in the duel you had. Moff Gideon did not leave your lifeless body alone and took it with him as he boarded the ship.

Note: You've never seen Din's face.

Please leave comment and be my inspration :)))

You were playing with Grogu on your lap. Since Din couldn’t take care of you while you were on your way to the Mandalorian planet with the Razor Crest, it was up to you to find various games for the boy. You didn't want him to forget his powers, even though he didn't choose that path, he was a great Jedi to you. You always tried to keep what he learned fresh in the name of gaming. Grogu was an orphan. After Din adopted him, he had a father. Now had a mother too. His loneliness evolved from being an orphan to an adoring family.

You held your hand up in the air, just out of reach. You were throwing the metal ball you had hidden in your palm somewhere, waiting for him to stop it with his telekinesis ability and take it, encouraging him. When he finally caught it right in the air, you shouted with joy.

"You were amazing, Grogu!"

Din turned to you as soon as he heard the joyful scream. It might not have been possible to see his face through his helmet, but his voice showed how excited he was.

"I knew you would do it! You keep doing better!"

As a parent, you were so proud of your son. Grogu was smiling and cooing.

When Din looked back to the road, he thought about how lucky he was. You both brought color and joy to his lonely life. You taught him qualities he didn't know about himself. Hours later, this happy family portrait of yours would become official.

You stopped playing with Grogu and called out to Din. “How much is left, darling?"

"It's almost there. We'll be there soon."

You stood up, placing Grogu on the couch and fastening his seat belt before you approached Din and grabbed his shoulder, got support by him as the Razor Crest shook slightly.

Din spoke up before you could. “Once we get there, we’ll both be leaving our old lives behind. Are you ready for that?” he asked in an unsure tone without waiting for an answer. “You know me, but you’ve never seen me in person. What if you don’t like the man under the helmet? Don’t you ever think about that? Young ladies care about that.”

Grogu's ears perked up as soon as he heard Din's question. He was too young to understand what was going on, but he was smart enough to understand that it was an important matter and that it concerned the attraction between the two of you. That was why you didn't want to get into such topics around the boy. You patted his shoulder over the pauldron and smiled.

"As long as no Wookie comes out of the helmet, you'll be fine."

"No, I can't be that hairy," he said, returning your joke.

But he was serious in his question. Since he couldn't get the answer he wanted from you, his anxiety increased. Although he seemed to have forgotten about it, in the back of his mind, whether you would like him when you saw him or not was being processed. Many times he wanted to take off his helmet with him. But he didn't want to go out of his way again. Otherwise, he would be too dirty to wash in the living waters. But when you died, he couldn't stand the pain and took off his helmet. He was alone. After Moff Gideon killed you and boarded the ship with your body, Din was on his knees, hugging your lifeless body in his mind. The mourning lasted for days, weeks and months. Maybe he shouldn’t have been so strict, he thought. Then you would know who he was and decide to fall in love accordingly.

Din Djarin didn’t even notice they had reached the planet as he struggled with his “if onlys.” That was until you tapped him on the shoulder and took your place in the chair.

“Here we are!” You picked up Grogu.

Din winced and readied the ship for entry into Mandalorian’s atmosphere.

As you descended into the vast courtyard of the Razor Crest palace, you saw Bo Katan herself coming to greet you. You wanted to get Grogu into his vehicle and get downstairs as quickly as possible, but he had no intention of letting go of your arms. Din said in a tone of happiness,

“He missed you more than I thought. Let’s go down.”

You were moving forward as the passageway hatch opened downwards. Bo Katan still couldn’t believe she was seeing you. It was more logical that Din had gone mad. She hadn’t even considered the possibility that you would leave the ship. The last time she saw you was when your hologramic lifeless body was adorned with Auricula flowers in the coffin. She remembered how devastated Djarin had been, and he had followed your lifeless body to make it comfortable.

What kind of a greeting would seem more sincere? Maybe it would be more appropriate to pretend that none of this had happened and greet the 'woman her friend is going to marry'. He has already begun the greeting ceremony by alienating the word 'care'.

"You've finally made it. We've all been waiting for you."

Din spoke up. "It's good to be here, Bo Katan."

Bo Katan looked at you and Grogu. You still loved each other very much. So you weren’t just a ghost. You were standing in front of her, real flesh and blood.

She shook your hand. “Princess Crystalia, I hope you find our planet for favorable your wedding ceremony favorable. Our ancestors have strived to continue their traditions for centuries. It is an honor for us to be a part of one of these.”

You smiled. “The honor is mine, my lady.”

Since you both came from noble lineage, you knew the protocols and developed your style in a balanced way.

Yet Bo Katan’s friendly demeanor was tinged with meaningful looks. “I’m sorry there’s no wedding dress. Din’s announcement that you were alive had already surprised us, but the news that you were getting married two days ago caught us off guard.”

"No problem. I guess it didn't seem normal to be married in a white dress among Mandalorians," you answered.

"For a nation that has dedicated its entire life to war, yes," she replied. As you walked through the palace corridors, she said, "Everyone is here. They are waiting for you to swear an oath of allegiance. You will see them all at the banquet."

When you entered the throne room, The Armorer was waiting for you as the person who will marry you. Welcomed you.

Your gaze was strange. "Will we be alone when the promises are made?"

If you were Mandalorian, you didn't even have to be in the same room when you swore your oath of allegiance with the person you were going to marry. All you had to do was know the promises and accept them. Everything had to be as simple and private as possible. Only after the promises were made would the others join in and a feast be held.

The Armorer answered. "Of course, this is your special moment, and you must spend your first night in the living waters, as compensation for seeing Din Djarin without his helmet for the first time. Thus will your marriage be consummated."

As you looked at her in surprise, Djarin spoke up. "I didn't expect such a big organization, to be honest."

Bo Katan glanced at Djarin. It was impossible not to notice the mischievous smile on his face. “You’re marrying a noblewoman. Of course there had to be some showiness, right?”

Grogu was looking at you with question marks next to him, aware of the tension. You locked eyes. The nervousness that fed his curious gaze had fueled Bo Katan's sense of conscience. Se turned to him and winked.

"It's okay, Grogu! Mom and Dad will be making a promise to each other in a moment."

The person who would perform your wedding would be the leader of Djarin's clan, and the person who will witness your words will of course be the Mandalorian queen. Bo Katan climbed the stairs and stood in front of her throne. She began her speech by explaining the reason for your being here and her duties as queen.

Your head was slightly bowed, as you should have shown respect to your queen. Din turned his head to you as Lady Kryze continued speaking. You agreed to follow the Mandalorian teachings in order to marry him. It was a source of pride. The fact that the woman he loved was there to support him on his own path made him even more devoted to his love. He had lost you once, never again, he told himself. He would never lose you.

When The Armorer asked you to repeat the words, Din turned his head toward her, so caught up in the perfection of a lifetime with you that he flinched.

“Together we are one,” she said, and you felt uneasy as you repeated it. You were not well versed in Mandalorian culture. “When we are apart, we are one,” Din repeated, tensing with excitement at the prospect of removing his helmet. “We share everything,” Grogu grinned, watching you as you repeated. “We will raise warriors!” you repeated.

Bo Katan, "Princess Cala, you are now Din Djarin's future wife. Your name is Din Cala from now on!"

Taking a deep breath, you turned to Din. You were now officially married. You would fight together, raising your adopted son Grogu. Of course, you had something else on your mind: the moment had come for him to remove his helmet. You would physically see the man you married. You had a smile on your face that showed his anticipation.

The Armorer says, "You can go to the living waters whenever you want."

Djarin bowed his head in agreement. “This is the way!”

You smiled at Djarin expectantly.

Djarin said, "You can see it after the banquet when we are alone."

"Okay then," you said with dissatisfaction and together you went to the dining hall where the banquet would be held.

Finally, you were at the steps of the living waters while they continued their feast. Some Mandalorians were also taking care of Grogu. No one could disturb you here. Feeling the mystical energy of the sacred waters to your cells while being with each other on your first night would complete your marriage.

You stood between the mine walls, looking at each other.

"Din, are you really sure about this? I mean, is it right for us to be here? For the intercourse."

Din spoke up. He took your hands and said,

"Cala, in the presence of the living waters we will belong to each other. There could not be a more perfect moment. If you are ready, of course."

You raised your eyebrows. “Ready for what? To see the man under the helmet, or for you to touch me?”

Djarin didn't know what to say. He was slurring his words, stuttering. He was trying to remain secretive.

You stepped closer. "You know what, Din Djarin? I never expected to see you like this."

"What do you mean?"

"You've always been a mysterious man. Sometimes I thought you were an emotionless droid. But now I see the excited man under the helmet," you said and grinned. "It gives me pleasure to surprise you."

"I'm not excited or anything," Djarin said, his tone half angry, half indifferent. "I just don't want to disappoint a young woman. That's all." He was a hunter! There was no job he hadn't taken on for credit in his day. How strange that the truly emotionless, bounty hunter was now showing his emotional vulnerability in the presence of a young Jedi. He was looking for the old Djarin. Where was he, really?

You rolled your eyes and gave him a smug look. “Is that why the topic always comes down to the helmet?”

Djarin got angry. He continued to act indifferent. "Think whatever you want. Of course, I respect that a young girl thinks such things to satisfy her ego." He said.

You frowned. You looked much angrier than he did. You stood right in front of him with determined steps. You were looking at his helmet with the same determination. Finally, Djarin stopped, realizing his stupidity.

"Come on Cala. Take off the helmet."

Excluding the times when you were thought to be dead, you had been together for a year and a half and you had lost hope of ever seeing Djarin. To love without seeing him... To fall in love with his character and soul without discriminating between handsome, ugly, old, young, wouldn't that be the most innocent love in the world? That's why Djarin surrendered himself to you. The woman he fell in love with wasn't someone who would care about material values. That's why he married you, that's why he opened the doors of secrets wide open and let his guard down.

Djarin closed his eyes as she reached for the helmet. This would be the first time you would make real eye contact. You would hear his voice changing under the helmet in its purest form for the first time. How could it not be exciting? It was the most special moment.

You slowly took off his helmet. Djarin had been curious about your reaction the moment your eyes met. He was good at hiding his emotions, but you weren’t much different.

“Aren’t you going to say anything?” he asked suspiciously.

You placed the helmet between your arm and waist and brought your other hand to Djarin’s cheek. When your fingers touched his skin, he was reminded of how much he desired you, how hungry he was for you. It was like a dying madman finding an oasis in the desert.

The fact that you still didn't say a word was causing him to get lost in the dark well of the unknown. Just as he was about to repeat the same question to you with his lips parted, you approached him and pressed your lips to his gently. You felt the warmth of his skin on you. After the long kiss, you stepped back.

Djarin was grateful for the love you had shown him. “I guess that explains it all,” he said. He never lost his reserved demeanor, unable to tell you how he felt. The teachings he had spent on the Mandalorian path had taken some of his abilities from him, involuntarily. But the feelings were permanent. This time, he was the one who made the first move. He was much more passionate now. His hands slowly moved up from your hands, following your arms to your neck, and from there he continued to kiss you, holding your face tightly. His moist kiss was so passionate that you didn’t even notice the loud sound of Beskar steel hitting the ground when you forgot about the helmet you had under your arm and hugged him. The sound echoed off the walls of the cave, though. You just continued, not caring if anyone heard.

Djarin moved a few inches away and whispered to your lips. "I never expected this day to come. But you are in front of me, my skin touching yours," he said and caressed your jawbone and moved towards lower lip again. He left bites and kisses without hurting your, while at the same time he was taking off your white waistbands. After taking his place on the fabric step, it was your war costume's turn. Leaving your lips and slowly placing kisses under your chin, his long arms found your back. He started to untie your clothes. His breath was trembling with excitement. From the day he fell in love with you until the day he tasted his death, your skins were longing for each other.

As he pulled away from you and began to pull your clothes down, he was admiring the beauty of your skin, but you averted your eyes in embarrassment.

He frowned and stopped pulling back the fabric - just as he was about to see her breasts. "We can stop whenever you want, Cala, it's okay."

Your lips parted, and you looked as if you were trying to explain yourself in a hurry.

"No, please don't stop. I just think I got excited about a man I'm seeing for the first time."

"Okay then," he said, and Djarin continued to take off her clothing. Your breasts were revealed first. The nipples were already hard, waiting to be sucked by Djarin. Then he saw your stomach and groin. He was amazed by the velvety feel of your skin. He dropped to one knee as he peeled it down. You were looking down at him, at what he was doing.

Djarin was looking at your groin. His hands suddenly slid down to your waist, careful and gentle, as if he were holding a delicate flower.

The man on his knees in front of you, kissing your groin, seemed to be performing a religious ritual. He could feel the Mandalorian faith on your skin, as if his lips were worshipping you as they touched you. He was in awe of everything about you. He was intoxicated. He could only come to himself when he flinched when his warm breath touched your skin. He untied your boots and caressed your feet, taking them out. He got up from his knees and stood in front of you. You were completely naked.

"It's your turn," he said. He wanted you to undress him.

You started taking off his armor one by one. You looked into his eyes as you took off his pauldron. You thought he was going to look at your body but he waited a long time to actually meet your eyes. He was happy for you to see him. He was completely special to the two of you.

You took his hand and pulled off his glove, bringing it to your chest. Your gaze was Djarin’s aphrodisiac. You wore a naughty boy grin as if what you were about to experience was a great sin.

You tossed the gloves aside and brought his hands up to your lips, kissing the tips of his fingers.

Djarin took this gesture as a sign of respect. "You know these hands are going to make you moan with pleasure in a moment, right?" he asked.

You nodded. "I know."

Djarin and you were now completely naked. The hand you held was now supporting you as you descended the steps. You stood side by side. You could not take your eyes off each other as the sacred waters slowly rose from your feet. You were now in the sacred waters up to your waist.

The heat from your sexual desire radiating from your groins and spreading throughout your body combined with the coolness of the water and you shivered.

Djarin grabbed you by the waist and pulled you to him. His wet hands reached your cheek. His lips came to life on yours again. The day you died came to mind as they made love, and this made Din Djarin become much more passionate when they were in a relationship. Because he had never confessed his love to you. He regretted it. He should not make such a mistake again.

Thanks to the buoyancy of the water, you wrapped your legs around his waist very comfortably. As your bodies moved aesthetically as if they were twisting with pleasure, the waves of water were wetting you all over. You were soaked as your tongues danced with each other. The drops of water sliding down your forehead were cooling your lips, making them much more slippery; feeling your sensitive skin deeply was fueling your hunger.

Djarin's hands were exploring your body. He was holding hard by the hips, caressing you. You were so plump that you overflowed from his palm. He anticipated the pleasure he would soon experience when he fucked you.

"Oh, Cala! You have such beautiful skin! I know we were made for each other."

One of his hands suddenly went to your breast. When he stimulated your pointed nipple, you moaned without taking your lips off his. His erection had already accelerated with your moaning. You felt a hardness right on your vulva. He was pressing on your clit, forcing you. You expected his cock to be thick, but you were surprised by its length. You grinned, showing your teeth.

"Tell me, how do I take it in? It's going to hurt, isn't it?"

Djarin moved his hand from her breast to her vulva and began to caress it. "Don't worry, once I get you ready, you won't mind me coming in."

His cock was now pressing against your vagina. The arousal factor applied from two places caused you to frown, burying your face in his neck, and moan loudly.

"Cala, you moan so wonderfully, moaning for me only incites my lust more."

He moved his hand from your hip to your hair and pulled you closer to him. His face found your cheeks, nibbling on them little by little, while his other hand continued to quickly caress your inner lips.

When you least expected it, he grabbed your waist, lifted your body a few inches up, and sat you on his lap again, allowing his penis to enter your vagina. Your eyes widened in surprise. A weak scream escaped your lips. Your hands were gripping his shoulders tightly. Your nails dug into his skin. Din Djarin was no different. He moaned along with you.

"Damn it Cala! I didn't think it would be this tight."

It was as if your vagina and his penis were trying to get used to each other. It was more pleasure than you could handle.

You asked breathlessly, but moans were escaping your lips with every word. “Aren’t you happy with this?”

"I'm actually very pleased!" he replied. It was impossible not to notice the pleasure on his face. He grabbed your hips again and started fucking you, slowly moving you up and down. Your genitals felt the pleasure equally, down to the smallest detail. It was impossible for you to speed up. You were shaking every time he lifted you up and down his lap. Your muscles could not resist any longer, and your body lay down on the surface of the water. Your back met the coldness of the living waters. Your hair was moving on the surface as the water rippled. In fact, the water flowing from your wet hair was sliding down your spine, making you shiver. Djarin was slowly increasing his pace and it felt like he couldn't hold back. But he had to hold himself back, he had to hold on. The glorious taste he was getting made him caress your breasts tightly.

You had lost yourself in each other's skin as if this was your last time making love. Your love was roaming in your veins and coming to life in your groins. Djarin pulled your body closer to his. He continued to bite your ears and neck. You could hear him breathing heavily. He was drawing circles on your clitoris, suddenly applying too much pressure, making you contract. Then he was surprising you with up and down movements. You were so full, so pleased, that your body could not stand it anymore and you threw yourself forward. You wrapped your arms around his neck. Your face looked like you were in pain, but everything was from pleasure.

As you got closer to your orgasm, you noticed Din Djarin was getting emotional. He wrapped his arms around you and held you tightly as he continued to move inside you.

"I love you, baby. I love you more than you could ever imagine."

You were completely in love with Dinjarin.

"I love you too," you said in breathlessly. "I love you too, my love."

Djarin cried out your name as he orgasmed hip muscles contracted, his hands squeezed your skin so hard it hurt. You came right after Djarin. Your body was still shaking, responding to the orgasm. He pulled his penis out of your vagina and his semen mixed with the living waters inside you. Then, without letting you out of his arms, he carried you to the shore and collapsed next to you, the wet stone was cold, thanks to sex, your burning sensitive skin felt the texture more. Djarin stared at the water drops glistening on her smooth skin.

Holding your cheek. "How are you feeling?"

"Strange."

Djarin frowned. “What does this mean?”

"I never imagined I would make love in the waters of a mine." you smiled.

After that night, you spent a few more days in the Mandalorian palace. Grogu was happy with his parents' happiness. He was spreading joy to those around him. The bad days he had were left behind with you, he had made peace with his memories.

In the palace courtyard, you and Djarin were teaching him to be a good warrior, you were helping him develop his Jedi powers, and Djarin was introducing him to Mandalorian weapons.

Some nights, he would get scared because of the bad nightmares he had. Since you were both Jedi who knew how to manipulate the force, you would go to Grogu's room, feeling his fear. One night, it happened again. You entered Grogu's room and woke him up, hugging and telling him you were with him. At that moment, Din Djarin appeared at the door.

"He can sleep next to us tonight. What do you say?"

You looked towards the door as you picked up Grogu and rubbed his back. “I think this will be good.”

The three of you were now lying on the bed, Grogu in the middle of you, his eyes not showing the slightest sign of sleep.

"Come on, Grogu. You need to sleep," he said.

You offered with a satisfied grin. “How about you tell him one of your Mandalorian tales?”

Djarin sat up and looked at you. “Why should I tell? You’re the princess. I’m sure your nannies told you many fairy tales when you were little.”

You switched your position to Djarin and Grogu.

"Yes, they did. Now I want to listen to you."

Djarin gave in. "Okay, okay. I'll get started."

You were both listening to the story he told with curious eyes. The soothing tone of his voice had put you to sleep in a short time. He heard your snores at the most exciting part of the story. He muttered to himself. "Did you fall asleep that quickly? Anyway, good night and sweet dreams." He kissed the child on the cheek and you on the lips, then he put the blanket on you and watched how sweetly you slept for a while. He didn't need sleep. Besides, watching his wife and child rested him both mentally and physically.

A few hours after the sunlight had lit up the sky, Djarin saw the Imperial ship appear in the sky. He knew exactly who it belonged to. He quickly got up and began to put on his armor. The sound of Beskar steel woke you. You looked at Djarin, rubbing your eyes. “What’s going on?”

"We'll find out soon," he said.

The sound of the ship reached your ears. You got out of bed and headed towards the window. Your heart was beating rapidly, your breathing becoming irregular. “He came for me,” you muttered to yourself. The long absence of news from him had led you to assume he was dead. But it was Moff Gideon who stepped out of the gate shortly after the ship landed in the courtyard.

Din commanded as he walked out of the room with stiff and fast steps. "Crystalia! You and Grogu will stay here. I'll deal with him."

Of course, you didn’t listen to him. You put on your clothes and followed him. The Mandalorians had already appeared in the courtyard, their weapons trained on Gideon. While he was trying to negotiate with Lady Kryze, Djarin appeared.

"What are you doing here! You should be dead already!"

Gideon replied with his fake smile.

"But as you can see, I'm not dead. I'm more alive than ever. There's a lot of fake news these days, isn't there?"

Djarin knew that Moff Gideon had a sickening attachment to you. He had heard of your marriage, of course. He looked like he was going mad. He would kill her without mercy if she made the slightest move. You were his, no one could tear you apart. “What do you want from us? Wasn’t your defeat in our last encounter enough!”

Gideon looked at you standing behind Din Djarin. “I didn’t come here to cause trouble. I came to take what is mine.”

You looked at Djarin guiltily, Grogu in your arms. The tears in your eyes were not fearful, but regretful.

Djarin shouted with hatred. "Does it belong to you? We got married, now leave her alone!"

Gideon started to approach you.

“Being married doesn’t change the fact that Crystalia was made for me,” he said and stopped right in front of Djarin. You sighed in fear as he held the remote control in his hand at eye level.

"No!"

Lady Kryze, like the others, could not understand the worry on your face. The secret behind your death was hidden in his current reaction; it was clearly visible.

Djarin couldn't understand. Not your reaction, not the remote control Gideon was holding in his hand. "Whatever nonsense you're talking about, just say it clearly! I'm out of patience."

"The woman you married is nothing more than a clone created using Crystalia's DNA. Doctor Pershing and I created her so that her power would be much more intense than the real Crystalia's. When I became the ruler of the Empire, I was going to make her my queen and put her in charge of my army."

Djarin couldn't make sense of what Moff Gideon was telling him. You were Crystalia. Your looks, your voice, your personality. This couldn't be true. He turned to you.

" Cala! What is all this? Can you explain it to me!"

You were crying heartily. You placed Grogu in the arms of a Mandalorian standing next to you. You were about to approach him and apologize when Moff Gideon continued speaking.

“Crystalia was in love with you. When we created her clone, we reprogrammed the synapses in her brain in the hopes that you would be Din Djarin’s enemy,” he raised his voice angrily and glared at you accusingly. “Yet despite this, her consciousness brought you and your relationship to light! She escaped from my base and lost track of you! She found you, Din Djarin! She was supposed to obey me. She was supposed to worship me! And yet I see my clone, whom I created, marry Din Djarin!”

You walked over to Djarin and grabbed his shoulders.

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" you sobbed.

Djarin was disappointed. He had lost you for the second time. The real Crystalia's body was still lying in the lab. But the woman standing in front of him was also a clone derived from your genes, with your consciousness. You lied to him, but you made him feel like Crystalia. He couldn't decide whether to be sad or to thank you, the clone.

He took one of her hands and placed it over your heart. "Can you tell me this isn't real? I need it so bad, please tell me this isn't real, I'm begging you! You're not dead, are you?"

Moff Gideon spoke up. “Crystalia is dead, Mandalorian. I swore I would never reunite you, and I have fulfilled my oath. You no longer have a body to cry over. She was wasted on an incompetent clone in my lab. Fortunately, I have three more clones. They are waiting to breathe.”

Bo Katan Kryze gritted her teeth. "You're not evil, Gideon, you're sick!"

Moff Gideon looked at her grimly. “Perhaps. But I came here to fix the mistake I made,” he said, and pressed the button on his remote. “Goodbye once more, my love.”

Your body slowly began to transform into energy. You were turning into a ghost, your body becoming transparent as your cells lost their tangibility and merged with nature. Djarin shouted, panicking at the prospect of losing you once more as he lost the sensation of your skin. “No! Cala!”

"If even a part of me belongs to the real Crystalia, then she loved Din Djarin more than anything in the world," you said. Those were your last words, and when your body was completely gone, Din cried out in great pain. He had already suffered greatly from losing you. Losing you again was almost enough to make him lose his mind. He fell to his knees and pounded the ground. His cries still echoed off the palace walls. Grogu landed on the ground and jumped into Djarin's arms, sharing his sadness with his father.

Moff Gideon may have been glad to have brought his mission, but Din Djarin's suffering gave him a special kind of pleasure.

"What a shame," he said and turned around and got back into his ship. As he left, some Mandalorians wanted to make him pay for what he did, but Bo Katan said that the current situation was not ready for that. This was revenge that would have to be taken later.

[lovdlydaz]

black!top!amab reader x bttm!satoru gojo

gojo had been acting very strange recently… he’s been more quiet around you, stumbling over his words when he tried. so, you ask him about it one day, the outcome is better than you could've ever thought.

warnings: nsfw, anal, oral (m!recieving), rimming, dirty talk, mentions of ‘daddy’, frotting, semi-public sex, multiple orgasms

the days went by as always, and as a teacher and mentor at jujutsu high, the children were very… interesting. you did have a home-room class, but you were always in the teacher’s lounge since the kids barely stayed/cared enough to pay attention to you. the only time you were teaching was when you were forced to, or when your kids went on missions. you didn’t hate them for being disrespectful towards you, hell, you could care less about a bunch of moody teenagers wanting to do their own thing. you were the same when you were young, so you took advantage of the opportunities you had alone.

so one day, when you saw one of the sorcerers here, and the most powerful one just walk up to you casually like his presence didn’t intimidate you in some way, that was the day you realized something.

you see, you were muscular but with a sleeper build. you had lean curvy texture all down your body and veins crawling up your arms like thick vines on a tree. you were strong in a physical sense, but your cursed technique came nowhere near as strong as gojo’s. yours was mediocre compared to his, but honestly… anyone’s was. you weren’t special, but that changed from that day forwards.

when you were in the lounge yet again, sipping on some beverages the sorcerers had bought and brought, the tall white-haired male walked in yet again. but… his aura seemed different. see, when he walked in his confidence went from its peak to its lowest, locking eyes with you then automatically turning his head in the other direction. that was weird to you, and it made you more concerned than boastful.

your eyes shifted from the movie you were watching on your phone to the jujutsu sorcerer, eyeballs gawking at the boy like he was prey. and right now, he acted like it. it was the way you stared at him with no regard for his personal comfort. it was how you just eyed him like a 5-course meal, like he was something you could devour in an instant. and he was.

satoru didn’t know it, but you become indoctrinated by him from the first moments you two made eye contact. it was during the teacher meeting before the students came, you both were there and decided to sit next to each other on the couch. you weren’t new, but you weren’t exactly that familiar with the school neither. you had been there for 3 years, this year being your 3rd. gojo hadn’t attended any school meetings before this one, so you never saw him.

you were zoned out while the principal was talking, and it seemed gojo was as well. but, you looked over to him and he looked back, giving you a playful smile then turning back to the principal. your heart jumped, basically leaping out of your chest as you stared at your shaky hands. you put them down immediately once principal called you out, shaking you head at any questions he asked you.

it was that faithful day when you knew, you had fallen hard for the sorcerer.

you didn’t know if he felt anything back, and honestly that was to be expected. he was a wild card, a man with an attitude like no other. his whole demeanor was unpredictable along with his mood, one moment he could be joyful and annoying everyone around him then the next he could be pouty and acting like a man child because he didn’t get something he wanted. oddly enough, that didn’t stir you away from him. it pulled you closer to him, but you never dared to tell another teacher in the school that. well, besides your entire class.

listen, you weren’t all too sure as to how you spilled your deepest darkest to the three little teenagers you had to teach. and who did these three have to be? well, his three disciples. yuji itadori, megumi fushiguro and nobara kugisaki. the female of the group squealed with excitement at the news, she always knew that you had had something for their lovely leader of their “pack”. the two males were just confused, well, one of them were. that one was itadori, he didn’t really process much stuff just right but you knew his questions were in good faith.

questions such as ‘how does that work?’ and ‘are you a girl in disguise?’ slipped past his pink lips, all you could do was chuckle. he was so clueless, but he had to have been your favorite student. he had a mind of a toddler, but acted so brave in the right situations. the fushiguro son just nudged the pink-haired teenager on the side from the last question, the male hissing and holding his side while pouting. “what was that for megumi? i was just asking because he likes a man and usually women like men!” yuji whined, but the black-haired male just did a small swipe of his hand from underneath his jaw, indicating for the teen to stop. itadori complied, staring down at the floor and bottom lip coming out in a quiver.

nobara had many more… respectful questions than itadori did. “how did you realize you liked him m/n?” she asked, and that made you go quiet. why would you tell some children about your personal feelings? why would you vent to teenagers who couldn’t really understand the depths about love and the depths of how terrible this love between you and the strongest sorcerer in the world was? well, you didn’t know why, but you just started to pour it all out.

after that day, those three little kids were always giving you and gojo flirtatious stares every time you both were near each other. you always shooed them off like some flies, but they would just giggle and run away. satoru was always confused, but you never spoke a word about it with him. you never wanted to, were never willing to do so.

you felt as though the day would never come of him admitting his feelings, or you admitting yours. you both were busy adults just trying to make it by, however you just had a little bit more on your plate than gojo. which, was saying something. but you never really had time to deal with any silly quarrels between adults or the children, today however... was different.

today was another day of sitting in the teacher's lounge, not a care in the world as to how your children were doing. you were just biting on a snack bar before someone came bursting in through the doors, that being gojo. the white-haired male was giggling before he noticed you were in the room, so he did his usual thing of shutting up and walking to the other side of the room. you just sighed softly before getting up out of your comfortable lounge chair and walking towards said side of the room.

today would be the day you finally confess.

atleast, you hoped so.

but as soon as you decided to get close to satoru the male stood up without saying a word, walking back to the other side and sitting somewhere else. now that was a little annoying, wasn't it?

so it was like a secret cat and mouse chase, back and forth you scuffled after the sorcerer like it was nobody's business. which it wasn't.

after the 5th and FINAL time gojo decided to stand up once again, you grabbed his arm with your strong grip while looking up at him with fierce eyes. "why do you keep running away, satoru?" you asked, deep voice ringing through the empty and echoey room. the smaller male's eyes went wide, thank god he was wearing his blindfold. he stayed completely quiet, his arm was noticeably shaking in your hand. you couldn't help but let out a deep chuckle, letting go of the male and patting down a spot next to you. you had your arms and legs crossed, indicating how relaxed you were.

"c'mon 'toru, don't be such a stick in the mud," you cooed, watching as the man stood there for a second. it seemed as though he was hesitating, but you could see some notes of pink tint on his pale white face. you couldn’t help but smile at the way he started to chew on the inside of his cheek, the way his body shifted slightly before he decided to speak up. “…i don’t want to be near you,” he mumbled, ripping his arm away from your touch. your heart completely broke in two, those were not the words you wanted to hear from him.

the male walked out of the room, leaving you there with your thoughts and tears. you cried until you passed out on the couch, nose stuffy and eyes puffy. whenever another teacher came into the room, they thought that you were passed out drunk.

after that day, things between you two weren’t the same.

satoru kept his distance, and you tried to get closer. every time he would notice your dark brown locks with those pretty crystals entangled between the hair his heart would ache, but he had to turn away from you. your heart was broken, completely destroyed because of the white-haired male. but, satoru just had never felt this way before.

it wasn’t his fault that he had been having wet dreams about you, the way you grabbed his arm unlocked something in him. he woke up every day with pants soaked in cum, and body completely covered in sweat. he would daydream about you, he would draw about you (even though he wasn’t a good artist). he would manifest your mental image into his mind, every single detail was engraved into his brain like a tattoo. from your beautiful dreads to your plump lips. those pretty e/c eyes and that… beautiful body. those hands, those arms, those veins, that chest… fuck, it drove him insane.

it wasn’t his fault that every time he saw you that his heart would skip three beats a second, that his body would go rigid and that his eyes would widen. it wasn’t his fault that he didn’t know how to act when he was around you, that he didn’t know what to do whenever he was in close proximity to you. his mind went flat with thoughts of wanting to hold you, kiss you, love you every time you were near. but, he would never act on them.

at least, he thought he wouldn't. not soon, that is.

on one of the last days of school, the teachers had decided that the kids should go on a trip to tokyo. every jujustu student from every class would be able to go, they just needed permission from their parents. and those without parents needed permission from their homeroom teacher. this was the perfect opportunity for you and gojo to finally get close once again.

you and your homeroom class of rambunctious students were walking together through tokyo streets, past venders and poor homeless people who you kindly gave money/food. the other teachers' classes were in all different parts of tokyo, and this was because they just traveled farther than anyone. you decided to stay close yet let your kids go where they wanted to, though they needed to call you if anything went wrong.

so, you started to walk somewhere, but some luxurious white locks caught your eye so you started to walk towards them. the person became more visible until you were more than positive it was gojo, which made you smile nervously. and... he was finally alone. he was just walking, he didn't know where his kids went. but, he was shocked when he felt a pair of shoulders rub against him, shooting his head around and looking up to see... you.

his heart dropped, his eyes went wide and his palms were sweaty. he didn't know what to do, you were so close... and he was already getting hard. you see, he was just having a dirty thought about you, the reason why he was alone. he had been walking and the three sheep he herded decided to go somewhere without him since he wasn't responsive to their calls towards him. gojo was scared, scared to see you right now. his thoughts, those memories of those dreams and everything were coming back in full throttle, but his feet didn't dare move.

his breathing was erratic, he was wearing his glasses and his beautiful blue eyes you adored so much were visibly shocked. that made your heart and cock throb, but you obviously didn't act on your carnal desire. "what's wrong, satoru?" you inquired, yet the man stayed completely still. his face was red, his mouth was open, he was breathing heavily and his mind was foggy. he couldn't move, nor could he think. he had been depriving himself of you, touching himself to the thought of you. toys were scattered all in his room because of you, he hated how much he loved you.

he didn't respond, he couldn't respond. his world seemed to stop every time he started into those breathtaking e/c eyes you proudly used for your sight every day. when that forest of locs and crystals moved around every time you turned your head it had satoru wanting to see that jungle over his face, your breath on his as you stuffed him full of your meaty cock.

after a good minute he gulped, blinking before looking down at the floor. "i'm fine, m/n," he forced out of his mouth, you knew he was nothing but okay. it was obvious with the way he spoke, the way he reacted whenever he was around you, he was definitely lying. " 'toru, don't give me that. you look so scared whenever you see me, you always walk away whenever you see me, you haven't talked to me in over a month... if that encounter in the teacher's lounge made you uncomfortable, i'm sorry gojo. i never meant any ill intentions behind it, i just..."

you trailed off when you noticed how satoru began to shift in his spot at the mention of the teacher's lounge incident, how his entire energy began to shift at that. he seemed more... carnal, more bashful, more... needy. that he was hiding something from you, something that you desperately needed to hear. needed to see, that is. so, when you stared him up and down you noticed that his jujustu cover-up was covering his pants, near the groin area as well. you were a little confused before your eyes widened, realizing what he was insinuating.

a smirk fell over your face, picking his chin up with your thumb and licking your lips. "does someone have something to tell me, hm?" you let your lips do the talking, the words falling off your tongue like you've said them before. and you have, however this was different. this was satoru gojo you were talking to, number one sorcerer in the jujustu world... but now, number one whore in the bedroom.

✩░▒▓▆▅▃▂▁ ＬＯＡＤＩＮＧ… ▁▂▃▅▆▓▒░✩

bodies were pressed up against each other, mouths moved in sync. arms wrapped around each other, groins connecting in a lustful dance. you don't know how you got here, nor did gojo. however, you were both in a public stall at a restaurant, pinning the sorcerer against the wall as you aggressively made out with him. your mind was cloudy, fogging up with nothing but desire. desire to be inside satoru, make him scream your name in pleasure.

pants were now on the ground, and you had both of your cocks in your large and lengthy hand. gojo rolled his hips into your touch unwillingly, soft whimpers leaving his mouth as he looked up at you. those pretty blue eyes of his were glossed over and filled with lust, god you could've devoured him right then and there. and, you would've.

after a minute or two you slid to your knees, putting his somewhat impressive length into your mouth. your own much bigger length was throbbing against the floor, but just the tip of his was engulfed into the wonderful heat of your wet cavern. you held his base as you stroked him, he was just only a few inches smaller than you were. he wasn't all that easy to take in, though his pretty moans and body jerking from contact was more than what you needed.

he started to try and thrust into your mouth, but a slight nibble on his tip had him stop as soon as he started. "you wanna be good for me, 'toru?" you purred, the male nodding his head while biting his lip. you didn't know he would be this compliant in bed, though you weren't really complaining. you loved obedient subs, and gojo was becoming your favorite one.

you deepthroated his cock a few minutes later, shoving your head up and down to please him better. his eyes rolled back and his legs were shaking, moans leaving him more and more as he threw his head back. "m-m/n! s'close!" he whined, you immediately pulling off his cock and flipping him over. his stomach was now pressing against the wall, his hips arched back towards you which gave you the perfect opportunity to open his pale cheeks.

once you saw his twitching asshole you couldn't think straight, it was like it was inviting you inside. you licked a long strip at first, slow but it did the trick. satoru's knees were buckling against the wall, the poor boy scratching against the tile walls trying to find some grounding. however, you weren't letting up, you were going to see how much more he could take.

that's why your face was shoved deep into his ass, licking and slurping around his hole while your cock weeped onto the less-than-sanitary bathroom floor. you could see how good your boy was feeling, you could most definitely hear him too. you loved his noises, you loved the way he couldn't keep himself down. mind you, you both were in a restaurant bathroom, anyone could walk in and hear you guys. but, you didn't care, and gojo certainly didn't care.

you added a finger inside his puckering hole, watching as his breath went shaky and his mind went completely blank. you were already pressing against his sweet spot with just one finger, his dreams were really coming true. though... he seemed a lot stretcher than you anticipated, which only got your cock twitching harder.

"has someone been playing with themselves?" you asked with a teasing tone, satoru whimpering softly at your remark. a slight nod to the head was all you were getting, though it wasn't all that appreciated. "c'mon 'toru, use your big boy words," you cooed, pulling away from his ass but still keeping that finger inside. it was still moving as well, twisting and turning inside him and hitting his prostate spot on. he moaned, arching his back which turned you on even more.

"y-- yes- yes! 'm been playing with- m-myself," he whined out, his cock twitching oh so desperately. " 'm so close daddy- please-" gojo cried out, and that nickname really stirred you on. you pulled your finger out, he was prepped enough by his own means that you could just slide right in. you stood up, grabbing the male's hips and pulling them towards you. you started to stroke your cock, smearing it with all your pre-cum to lube it up.

you pressed your thick tip against his hole, making the male rut his hips back onto yours. you bit your lip, pushing it inside him and making his back arch with pleasure. he shook his hips more, taking more of you inside him by his own doing. you let him, who were you to stop the strongest sorcerer? but, once all of you was fully sheathed inside his ass the man's legs were trembling, his breath heavy and eyes rolled all the way back. you were confused until you saw a splatter of white against the tile wall where his cock was.

you chuckled, holding his hips as you leaned down. "such a good boy 'toru... cock makes you feel this good yeah?" you sauntered, feeling the male's hole clasp around your cock. those lewd words of yours had gojo whimpering, slowly starting to move his hips up and down your cock. he went up and down, moaning every time he went down. you could tell he was losing his mind, by the way he sounded all the way to how he looked.

you were loving this, but he was going a little too slow for your liking. so, you held his hips before slamming into him, making satoru cry out and press his chest against the wall. you fucked him at such a deliciously fast pace, your cock was bigger than he would've ever imagined. you were pounding his ass so good, literally breaking him more and more. his hole was stretched so deliciously, his back was arched so beautifully, and his glasses were falling off of his face with every thrust.

"m- m/n-! g'na c-cum-" he choked out, which only made you speed up. "yeah? gonna cum 'toru? cream on my cock baby, you can do it," you encouraged him, but it was also in somewhat of a growl. those words had satoru cumming in seconds, eyes rolling back and tongue lolling out. he clenched around you so tightly, it made your hips stutter as you tried to push past the tight barrier. but, you came as well, throwing your head back and hissing because of the pleasure.

"fffuccckkk 'toru... took my cock so well... such a good boy you are yeah? good boys take cock so well..." you praised him, leaning down to press kisses on his neck. he shivered at your touch, then leaned into it. you chuckled, rubbing soft circles into his hips. after a minute you pulled away from him, pulling out of his ass and watching a huge amount of cum splotch from out of his gaping hole. the sight was so hot you almost got hard again, but you held back since you were in a public restroom.

your dear boy's legs were shaking so hard though, trembling as he tried to hold himself up against the wall. you just chuckled, grabbing gojo's hips and pulling him towards you. you picked him up and placed him on the toilet, pressing against the slight bulge he had in his stomach to push all your cum out. he moaned as it all came out of him, cock twitching but not getting hard. he was so adorable to you, sparkling blue eyes looking the other way from your e/c eyes, body trembling and face oh so pink. you couldn't stop staring at him, he was so beautiful.

after he was done you cleaned up his backside, grabbing paper towels with soap and washing him up down there. his cock and his ass, plus the wall where his cum was smeared. he just smiled sleepily, and it seemed like it was nighttime right now. you pulled up his pants and yours, holding him up as he started to tremble once more. you then decided to pick him up entirely, walking out of the restroom with him in hand.

little did you know, the three disciples plus some teachers PLUS your class were inside the restaurant, listening into everything. you both weren't all that quiet, and they heard everything. when you both saw them gojo leaped out of your arms, tried to stand for himself, then fell to the floor. you picked him up and held him once more, this time the sorcerer complied and didn't move. he pressed his embarrassed face against your neck, your dark face didn't show any blush but it was most definitely there.

"so, you two have fun in there?" mei mei asked, basically teasing you. "shut up." you spoke somewhat harsh yet somewhat bashful, walking out of the restaurant and to their bus that they had to bring the kids here.

let's say, after that day you and gojo were even closer than before.

© gg 2023. dividers were made by me. do not steal, use, or repost my work without my consent. reblogging/interaction is welcomed.

[cigarettesaftersae]

Homesick 01

Sae Itoshi - 01

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ Series: sae x f!reader | childhoodlovers!au,

Stuck in a small town near the coast with a previous crush on a boy who returns after years

Fire seems ethereal, whereas candles on a cake appear simple. So, what would happen if the candles on the cake were lit? Is it child's play? A special celebration? It was just a birthday cake, some simple singing, and phew. Gone. Do you feel eighteen yet? What was so wonderful about birthdays, anyway? Aside from receiving free gifts, and dying slowly. The next day will be frigid, as you would expect.

The seasons vary, from icy winters to blossoming springtime, flaming summers, and fading autumn. You would expect something to change over the course of these 18 years. Waking up the day following your birthday seemed different, possibly more hectic, but it has always been this way. So perhaps not changing. Difficult? yeah..

The only time you felt something that was different, somewhat changing, or …a feeling? Was when you were a kid, but there is always something to be joyful about. But this was like a stop in motion. His teal eyes, earth tone red hair, and mostly those long under eyelashes. Wish I could cut them up and use them. But mostly, it was his cold, blunt, and nonchalant personality. Or maybe it was all of it. To be youthful, talented, and beautiful was the dream of all, and he was right over there. You’d see him occasionally in the town when shopping with your mama, playing in the park, or on the beach. Usually if he wasn’t with his brother that you’d assume, he’d be playing with a soccer ball. And you’re on the swings alone as you watch him from afar. Just alone, juggling the ball so smoothly with his foot. For such a young age, he was good and you weren’t even an expert on soccer. For a second, he looks up at you, making faint eye contact. As soon as you realize his notice, you go back to kicking the ground floor to give you a small push on the swings, eyeing the ground like it was your favorite color. Slowly, you look back up to see him playing with the soccer ball once more. The wind blew through the strands of his red hair so calmly, his youthful skin so smoothly. You were almost envies of everything he possessed.

“So pretty…” you mumble quietly under your breath

You break free from your thoughts, believing it was all a ploy from the air getting worse. Walking over to the venting machine to get a drink for your thirsty mouth, you notice the red-haired boy trying to get a drink as well. Only, he appeared to be having problems with the machine. His expression was angry, pretty, but angry. In a quick moment, you notice he picks up his leg, motioning it to kick it, hard.

“That won’t work.” you speak up softly but quick before he makes any damage contact with the machine. He carefully puts his feet down as you walk up to press the buttons labeled for your desire drink, placing in the coins then both watching it successfully come out.

“This thing is… dumb” His voice sound so smooth, like the ocean sea. You could listen to him all day. “Did you even punch in the right label?” You ask

“Of course I did, the machine is broken.”

“Didn’t seem like it”

A moment of awkward cold silence fills the atmosphere as you two simply look at each other.

“It's broken”

“This drink is really refreshing; did you know it came from this venting machine?”

“It's broken.” He repeats once more but sterner and firmer, yet you couldn’t help but admire the tune of his voice flowing in the air, and his dreamy icy eyes, and fluffy hair messy bangs. You slightly giggle, “Which one did you want?”

“The taro drink..”

With ease, you punch in the labels for the taro drink, waiting for its arrival. You hand it to his delicate hands,

“Thanks..” he said nonchalantly

From there you parted ways, no name, not a look back or twice. It was the only time you talked. He remained a small town crush until one day he suddenly disappeared in the beginning midst of highschool. You didn’t even go to the same school. Just gone, all you had was the memories from afar. Not even a name. What was his name again?

You remain present in the early morning at 5 am.. Each wind blowing conveys these peaceful leaf designs, building up like a blizzard yet remaining utterly unique in its mist. The grass breathes its green hue, and the birds sing their tunes awake as you stroll to your local town café. The old lady who works there has always liked your presence and regards you with courtesy. After getting your drink and a little breakfast, you sat in a quiet corner to enjoy your period of solitary. It has always been like this: serene, alone, and dull. It's a rerun; you'd do everything to get out of here, to change your life, to experience anything enjoyable. Now you're not emotionless, cold, and nonchalant. You still possess human emotions, however you grown bored of these emotions. Its like a habit you’ve grown too good for. You felt everything so much but could feel nothing so much.

You snap out of your thoughts when you heard the bell on the door ring. In reflex, you turn your head to see who. You were to late to see his face but saw the back of his head. Red hair..

The lady who ran this place, Maria, smiled like no other when she saw him. Maybe a friend you guessed. It was none of your business, but you noticed Maria’s wrinkle hands take the male’s hands in her to hold warmly. You couldn't make out the conversation but it seemed so joyful, so full of love. It was beautiful to see. But it was none of your business, so with a last look you return to eating and finishing your drink. By then the male was gone and you didn’t even notice with you being in your own world.

--

In this world stood Sae Itoshi back in the air of the hometown. He had greeted with his parents after a long way from Spain. He remained on difficult terms with his brother however. Nonetheless, he took this day to relax. Revisiting old friendly faces, he remembered one very kind old lady who owned a small cafe. Sae always took fascination in her bakery and caring smile. Always treated him like his own. He walks in the small cafe early morning, not many people around but noticed a girl alone with her coffee and drink but her face the other way. An old man by the window reading a book with steaming coffee accompanying him. With each step gained him closer to be in the eye sight of Maria. Instantly the ends of her lips widen into a smile for the sight of Sae.

“Oh who is this beautiful young man?” Maria chuckles in joy

“Its felt like years since I’ve last seen you sweet boy, how are you? Was your flight back okay? Would you like something to get?” She was so welcoming, in between her talk she had gently picked up Sae’s hand to hold and cherish

“Everything was perfectly fine Maria. How were you?” All the sayings of the cold, blunt, nonchalant Sae Itoshi seemed so fake in this moment. His tone usually unfriendly turned to somewhat soft and kind to Maria.

“Oh you know me, living day by day, these old hands just make coffee and bakery treats for ya”

“We always appreciate your hardwork. Did you need any help in the back?”

“Aw did you really come back to just help me with the shop? So sweet really but youre a young man. Go out, and have fun”

“Ah well I only find that in soccer”

“No no not soccer… have you ever fell inlove?”

“I have no desire for… love”

“Not even a crush? I'm just playjng with you sweetheart. Did you come here just to visit?”

Her words sinked in him, love? He never really thought of it, moreover he thought it was useless and soccer only mattered. And it will only and always matter.

“Yes, and..I would like a coffee, not too much sugar. It wont be healthy for my diet.”

“Coming right up”

“Not even a crush?” It repeated in his head, now that he was back in his town he remembered the color of her hair, not her eyes. What were the color of her eyes again? She was beautiful though, oh so beautiful. Her skin, lashes, lips, to all over.

Young Sae

Sae was young, talented, and handsome, and alone. He played with the soccer ball alone, staring at it as it seemed for an eternity. Nothing mattered but soccer. He was to be the number one, and that was all that matter.

Well, maybe a girl..who just went on the swings. She was always staring, Sae knew she was staring. With a soft motion he looks up at her to see her stare to be completely directed somewhere else the moment they make eye contact.

“Hmm..”

—

“Stupid..machine.” Sae lifts his feet up to kick it only to be stopped by the words, “that won’t work”

Sae looks up to see who it is. It was the girl who was on the swings. Who keeps staring. He watched as she easily and successfully obtained her drink. This machine was a stupid little pile of butt. How come it didn’t work for me? I'm the one whose been active…

“Did you even punch in the right labels”

Why wouldn’t I?

“Of course I did, the machine is broken.”

“Didn’t seem like it”

The nerve of her attitude. All she does is stalk me with her predatory eyes

A moment of awkward cold silence fills the atmosphere as you two simply look at each other.

“It's broken” Sae explains

“This drink is really refreshing; did you know it came from this venting machine?”

Even more annoying

“It's broken.” He repeats once more but sterner and firmer, annoying. But he took this second to admire her eyes, the color of her hair, each mole, birthmark, and facial hair on her..beautiful he wanted to mumble out

You slightly giggle, “Which one did you want?”

“The taro drink..”

With ease, you punch in the labels for the taro drink, waiting for its arrival. You hand it to his delicate hands,

“Thanks..” he said nonchalantly. He turned on his heel to walk away. With a somewhat far distance, he looks back to see you. The girl in the town who keeps staring.

—

It was the only interaction between you and Sae, besides the staring from afar. You both acknowledged each other for being in the same town, seeing each other when going out with mama, the park, or the beach. But you both shy away, never being brave enough to talk. Sae regrets not asking your name. His only regret outside of soccer. What was her name again?

—

note:

.

.

.

what if i told you this was my first fanfic

[welikeimagines-andfandoms]

The Kiss- Thranduil x Modern!Reader

Summary: Reader surprises Thranduil with a kiss

Word count: 1, 398

Bare feet slap against the cool stone as you run freely, and perhaps drunkenly, away from the regal Mirkwood party. The elvish party wasn’t boring per say, but with the strong wine in your system and being used to different types of parties, you suddenly felt crowded in the large ballroom and needed to feel the cool air on your skin and in your lungs.

You knew your destination, as you’d been shown it only a few days previous. It was a gorgeous fountain still close enough to the party to hear the music but far enough that you most likely won’t be interrupted.

Being by yourself and hearing the pleasant music, you couldn’t help but dance around the fountain. Barefoot, drunk and not a care in the world, you began to prance around, freely and happily. You’re sure you look like a beautiful and elegant sight, but to the approaching king, you appear more like a joyful child.

Thranduil had looked around the ballroom and was disappointed to find you had vanished. Leaving the party, he was furious to have to go and find you, that you’d left alone and unsupervised. You’d arrived three months previous from a strange world and the king had taken it upon himself to house you here and care for you.

Spotting you at the fountain, he’d planned on scolding you, as he’d done with a young Legolas many times, but seeing you more happy and free then he’d seen honestly anyone in a long time, his rage seemed to vanish.

Smirking to himself he decided to sit on one of the benches and wait and see if you’d spot him. You’d gone around three times before he decided to announce himself.

“Having fun are we?” He interrupted your joy.

Whipping around caused you to because a little more wobbly but you could still make out the scowl of the king. Normally this would make you anxious, but with the alcohol in your system, you couldn’t help but just simply see him as beautiful. You’d managed to be polite your whole stay in Mirkwood so far, but how handsome the king was definitely didn’t escape your knowledge.

Seeing him sitting on a simple stone bench, his tall stature and powerful presence made the simple seat look more like a thrown. He just looked so perfect sitting there with his blank face and long legs spread wide, you couldn’t help the way your body tingled and your mind turned perhaps a little cheeky.

“Well I’m having a lot more fun now you’re here, your highness.” You drunkenly smirk at him as you saunter over to him, standing in between his spread legs.

Your eyes and hands couldn’t seem to stay still, and you found yourself staring all over his face and lightly running your fingers through his lovely white hair. In return Thranduil found himself staring back at you, watching your movements with intrigue.

The elvish king couldn’t keep his eyes from you and was surprised that he wasn’t mad at you or insulted. Even as your hands cupped along his cheeks and you leaned in and planted a sweet kiss to his lips, he still was not mad.

Your lips were soft and your kiss sweet. A part of him wanted to push you away, but a stronger part wanted more. That stronger part won as his eyes began to close, and he found himself leaning closer into your kiss.

As quickly as the kiss began, it was over. As you part from one another you both find each others gaze. Thranduils eyes are filled with confusion and wonder, whereas yours are glazed and a stupid and giddy smile on your face.

“You’re pretty, like a pretty princess.” You giggle at the king as your fingers card through his hair once again.

Thranduils kingly demeanour is broken and he finds himself chuckling at your drunken compliment.

“I think it’s time to get you to bed, small one.” He smirks at you as he stands from the bench.

“Oh yeh, you gonna take me to bed?” You flirt stupidly as your eyes begin to close, resting in his arms and against his chest, as he carry’s you. Another chuckle leaves the king as he begins to walk you to your bedroom.

The walk to your room is quiet as you fall asleep also immediately. Once in your room, Thranduil tucks you snuggly into bed. Looking down at your sweet sleeping form, he can’t help but stare at you lovingly.

He should turn away and leave you be, but doesn’t, instead he sits at your bedside for a moment, stroking your cheek and staring at your peaceful face.

“How have you managed to affect me so?” He whispers down to your deaf ears

*****

When you awoke the next day, you were surprised that although you were groggy, you were not hungover. Opening your eyes, you take in your surroundings and are confused at the many layers over your legs. You notice you are still wearing the gown from last night and suddenly it comes back to you, the kiss, you kissed Thranduil. Panic begins to set in as you lay there in worry.

Before you could spend too much time on the situation however, you heard a knock at your door and your name called.

“Come in.” You quickly blurt out.

Letting out a sigh, you notice that it is just one of the maids bringing you what looks like lunch.

“Seems you needed quite the sleep after last nights festivities, my lady. You have missed breakfast, but King Thranduil asked me to bring you lunch.”

If he asked to bring you lunch then maybe he wasn’t too mad at you, hopefully.

“Thank you.” You reply quietly as she places your meal beside you on a small table.

“You’re most welcome. The king has also asked for you to meet him in the garden.”

“Do you know why?” You ask anxiously.

“I’m not sure, my lady, but he did not appear upset with you. Once you’re finished with your meal, I will return and help you dress.” She explains as she exits with a nod.

Returning her nod, your mind begins to race with curiosity. So he wasn’t mad, or maybe he was just staying calm for now. You ate your food quickly, wanting to get the interaction over with.

Soon after finishing your meal, you were dressed in a simple purple dress that flowed to your ankles, with sleeve that came past your wrists. You were walked to the gate of Thranduils private garden, but left to enter alone.

Your heart raced as you walked closer to where he stood, nervously you played with your sleeves as you tried to keep your lunch in your stomach. As Thranduil noticed you approaching, you were surprised to see he had a faint smile on his lips.

“I trust you slept well.” He chuckled to you, as you stood before him.

“I always sleep well after a night of drinking, dancing and…. Possibly embarrassing myself.” You shyly confess, your head downcast in shame.

Feeling a delicate touch of fingers under your chin, you found your eyes meeting Thranduils. He looked at you so kindly and what you think you mistake for lovingly; there is no pity in his actions or his gaze as you expected there might be, just kindness.

“You did not make a fool of yourself, dear.” He soothingly calms your worries.

You begin to find yourself leaning into his touch as he fingers rise to cup your cheek and he moves closer to you.

“Your kiss did not offend me, and in fact I quite enjoyed it.” Thranduil confessed, surprisingly bashfully.

Your brows knit in confusion at such a confession, causing Thranduils grin to grow.

“I called you here because I wondered how your kiss would feel with both of us sober.” He told you gently, his voice so soft that it lulled your shock, even as his other hand rested gently on your other cheek.

“I’d like that too.” You whispered back your confession as both you and Thranduil leaned into one another.

Your lips found each other and connected in a sweet and loving way. As the kiss continued, your hands came to rest around his neck, using the leverage and your tippy toes to push deeper into the kiss.

[hjparisian]

so long, london- remus j lupin x reader

p: remus lupin x fem!reader w: sad, angst, like one or two cuss words, mentions of death s: the deaths of lily and james potter and the imprisonment of sirius black have led to a rift between (y/n) and remus' relationship. both haunted by that one night, it was only a matter of time until one of them left a/n: please bear with me in this as im not super knowledgable about the mauraders era but i hope this is okay! if yall have a 1000 page doc about this era, send it my way

Halloween of 1981 had to have been one of the darkest days in history. Lily and James Potter were dead, killed by Voldemort. Peter Pettigrew, dead, killed by his own friend Sirius Black, who is now in Azkaban.

Remus was still grieving the death of Marlene McKinnon when he found out about what happened to his best friends. He could barely hold in his tears as he held (Y/N) in his arms, who was already sobbing at the news.

The two couldn't believe it. How could Sirius Black sell out his own best friend and his wife to the Dark Lord? How could he kill his friends? Had he been hiding his loyalty this whole time?

The days following James and Lily's deaths were spent in darkness. Remus would sit in the room he and (Y/N) shared, staring at the fairy lights stringed about the walls. (Y/N) would spend her mornings doing tasks for the Order, while at night she would wallow in the arms of Remus.

Just when they thought things were terrible, it unfortunately got worse.

(Y/N) and Remus' good friend Dorcas Meadowes was found dead. Killed by Voldemort himself. Why? They'll never know.

The two were distraught, (Y/N) more so than Remus as she was closer to Dorcas. It appeared that (Y/N) would follow in Remus' own routine, hiding away in the spare bedroom that they used to let their friends rest in when they were over. At nights, she would return to her and Remus' bedroom to shower and sleep.

Remus could hear her sobs during her showers.

As the days went on, (Y/N) had began to accept the fate of her friends. Or she was hiding her true emotions from Remus, who remained a mess at the loss of his mates. Each day, (Y/N) would try to talk with Remus and get him out of the house. Unfortunately, the only time he would leave was during the full moon so not to hurt her.

Remus began distancing himself from (Y/N). He'd wake up earlier than her, he would have lunch before her, he would keep himself locked in the bedroom during the day, wait 'til she was asleep to turn in.

Anything to be alone.

(Y/N) had tried to follow Remus' new routine, trying to catch him whenever she could. Even if she had to wake up earlier than she would, even if she had to stay up later to see Remus join her in bed. Anything she could to try to talk with Remus.

Silly girl.

It became rare for the two to even have a long lasting conversation, let alone a lighthearted, joyful chat. Any words spoken were those of sorrow and anger. The young woman had once attempted to talk to Remus about his mood changing, trying to get him to talk through it.

It ended in tears and slamming doors.

Since that talk, tensions between the two were higher than ever, and not in the way one may think. They began to have more arguments in a month than they ever had in their entire relationship.

Though one argument was not like the others.

"Rem, come on!" She pleaded with him. "You haven't been outside in months! Everybody is starting to assume you're dead!"

"Well let them think that! Everyone I cared or loved is already dead. Anyone who's ever loved me is gone."

"But what about me?" She asked him. "I'm still here Remus. But lately you act like I'm not!"

Remus stops his tracks in the living room. "Sorry that our friends dying has affected me so badly."

"Remus, you're acting like you're the only one affected by their deaths." She says to him. "I'm upset about it too. They were my friends as much as they were yours."

"You never knew James or Sirius or Peter like I did," Remus yells at her. "You never spent most of your school years with them, knowing every little thing about them."

"That doesn't mean we weren't friends and you know that Remus. You're acting like they were the only people you've lost," the woman says. "I lost Lily. I lost Marlene, Dorcas. Hell, have you even heard about what happened to Mary? She's gone missing Remus! They're saying she might've been killed."

"You don't need to remind me everyone that's gone, (Y/N)! I'm more than aware of what's happening and I don't need to be reminded."

The woman huffed. "Well with the way you're locked up here, it seems like it."

"Not everyone can carry on with their lives after finding out someone who was basically like family is dead!" Remus shouts.

"Well, sorry I've been busy distracting myself with work from the Order! Trying to do what I can to help anyone that left!"

All Remus could do was roll his eyes, frustration clouding his emotions. "Why even bother? They couldn't save our friends, now they're gone! You're being stupid."

"Remus-"

"Bloody hell, I can't do this. I'm leaving." The boy declares, having enough of this.

Remus stomped out the door, slamming it behind him. All (Y/N) could do was dropped to her knees in tears, exhaustion hitting her. Sobs filled the empty room.

The man fled to the streets of London, finding shelter in a hotel near the heart of the city. He spent a few nights there, getting the space he felt he deserved. Remus had no one to talk to about this, and sitting in a lonely white bed had reminded him of it.

No James. No Lily.

No Sirius. No Marlene.

No Peter. No Dorcas.

No Mary.

He had no one. Except (Y/N).

Oh what an idiot he is.

Remus had let his anger get the best of him. He had yelled at his favorite girl and basically told her to fuck off. What a dick he is. The fight had began to flood his head, reminding him of how much he screwed up.

He had to go find her.

The werewolf quickly left the hotel, determined to return to where he and (Y/N) were last together.

He ran to the streets and waved his arms haphazardly, aiming to flag down the nearest cab. He stumbled inside the next one that stopped for him and told him the address.

As soon as the cab stopped by his house, Remus gave him money and ran to the door. He took the key from his pocket and unlocked their apartment door. He pushed the door open to a silent living room.

"Hello?" Remus calls out. "(Y/N) are you here?"

The young man began wandering through the apartment, which seemed slightly emptier than usual. His bedroom seemed the most off to him. He couldn't have been away that long, right?

A white envelope sitting against a vase on the night stand had caught his eye. 'Remus' was written on the front in pretty handwriting that he knew belonged to his girlfriend. He opened it up to reveal a letter for him.

He sat on the floor against his bed and began reading it. As he read through it, he felt his heart crumbling to pieces. It felt like everything was hitting him all at once.

Remus,

I've decided it was time for me to say so long to the place I once called home.

As much as I love this place, London, England, I cannot bear being here anymore. All the memories I've made with everyone will haunt me knowing I've been the unfortunate one who was chosen to be alive out of them.

I'll be leaving the country to go who knows where. Anywhere will be better than here. I think I'd implode if I stayed here any longer.

I've also decided to start clean and leave my wizarding roots behind. As much as I loved being a witch, going to Hogwarts and learning magic, I can't think about it without being reminded of what happened. I don't want my past to follow me around.

I'm sorry I couldn't have done better, Remus. I'll miss you, and I hope your life gets better. Hope you find someone better.

~(Y/N).

The letter fell from his hands.

Remus couldn't believe it. He had lost the last person in his life that cared for him. His whole world was gone, taken from him.

"Fuck."

He stood up and shoved the vase to the ground out of anger, watching it shatter. Water ran across the floor under the broken pieces and ruined flowers.

A wave of emotions hit Remus all at once. He didn't know what to feel. There was nothing he could do to change the past.

Poor young Remus. He was truly alone, forever.

[rosie-b]

The Magic Melody

Wrote a little something for the mwg prompt exchange : )

He wished his mother would come back. But she couldn’t, and Adrien couldn’t celebrate Christmas the way he used to. The carols he heard snippets of every time he went outside made him want to cover his ears; the holiday lights decorating the windows of every shop he passed made his head hurt; the cookies Marinette had brought into class tasted no better than the handful of dirt he’d eaten once on a dare.

At least this Christmas couldn’t be as bad as last year’s. Nothing could beat Santa Claus getting akumatized, after all!

Adrien almost gets akumatized, but maybe a song and a visit from Ladybug will help him feel better. You can read the story below or on AO3!

Adrien hadn’t always hated Christmas. He still had fond memories of playing festive songs on the piano with his mother, or decorating the Christmas tree, being held up by his father so he could hang his ornament higher than anyone else’s. There wasn’t usually a big party, and Adrien had never received as many gifts as Chloe did, but the calm, happy time he’d spent with his family was what had made the winter season a special one.

Now, Nathalie and the servants were the ones to decorate the tree. Adrien still played the piano, but none of the songs his father wanted him to practice were the ones he’d played with his mother in past years. He wasn’t even sure he’d want to play them if he’d been given the sheet music; Adrien knew what had made the songs special and it had nothing to do with the musical arrangement of each piece.

If he let himself sit in the undisturbed silence of his room for too long, Adrien found himself giving in to the horrible ache in his chest, falling into a deep well of emotions he knew he should be bottling up so Shadowmoth couldn’t use them. 

They were so much harder to control now than before. The break-up with Kagami had gone… as well as any break-up in Paris seemed to go, but it left him feeling even more alone. If he couldn’t even manage to move on from Ladybug, how was he supposed to move past the ugly pain that he felt around Christmas? He had no one to talk to about it, no one he felt comfortable weighing down with the immature hurt and rage he was feeling, at least. No, Adrien had to deal with this alone. 

So, while Plagg napped in an empty container of camembert, Adrien found himself wishing again that this Christmas could be like the ones he’d celebrated when he was young. He wished Nathalie had invited him to help hang the tinsel she’d professionally placed on the real evergreen in the foyer. He wished his father would come out of his room and celebrate, or at least show up for dinner on Christmas eve.

He wished his mother would come back. But she couldn’t, and Adrien couldn’t celebrate Christmas the way he used to. The carols he heard snippets of every time he went outside made him want to cover his ears; the holiday lights decorating the windows of every shop he passed made his head hurt; the cookies Marinette had brought into class tasted no better than the handful of dirt he’d eaten once on a dare.

At least this Christmas couldn’t be as bad as last year’s. Nothing could beat Santa Claus getting akumatized, after all!

At that thought, Adrien let a smile force itself onto his face. He twisted it into the expression gracing so many of Paris’ billboards, the carefree grin that implied the happiness Adrien really should be feeling. Maybe, he thought, if I try hard enough, the smile will make me feel at least a little bit as joyful as it makes me look. He’d tried that trick before without success, but surely one more attempt couldn’t hurt.

It was the yo-yo zipping just centimeters past his face that snapped him out of the trance he’d fallen into.

“Adrien!”

Following the sound of the familiar voice, Adrien turned and looked into the wide, frightened eyes of Ladybug as she steadied herself beside his couch. Behind her, the window he kept cracked open sent a strong breeze through the room.

“My— Ladybug, are you okay? Is there an akuma nearby?” he asked, feeling concerned. He couldn’t think of another reason for her to be there, but if there was an akuma, why hadn’t he received an alert about it? Shouldn’t Ladybug have sent a message to her chaton before heading off in pursuit?

Ladybug looked away and hung the yo-yo back at her side.

“Oh, no, not to worry! I mean, there almost was, well, it got too close, but everything is under control. There is currently no threat, and I’m okay!” She paused, looking back at Adrien with furrowed brows. “Are… you okay, Adrien?”

Adrien blinked. None of what she’d said was making sense. “Am I okay? I’m fine, Ladybug, just like always!”

Ladybug glanced down and then back up. “Yes… I mean, no! You’re hiding it, but you’re not okay, are you?”

Adrien plastered an Agreste-brand smile on his face, carefully keeping any trace of Chat Noir out of his expression. “I’m not sure what you mean. You’re the one who broke into my room all of a sudden—not that I mind!—looking out of breath and concerned. I think between the two of us, that makes you… well, more likely to need assistance. So, how can I help you, my— hero?”

Ladybug clasped her hands together. “Don’t worry about me! Really, what I came in here for… well, you were right the first time, actually. There was an akuma, a butterfly I spotted while I was, um, on patrol. I followed it here, and I’m pretty sure if I’d been any later, Shadowmoth would have gotten his next victim, and it would have been you. So, I know something’s wrong, Adrien! And I’d like to help, if you’ll let me.”

There was no trace of dishonesty in her gaze as she looked at him, blue eyes silently pleading with him to tell her about the negative emotions she’d literally traced back to him.

“It’s kind of a long story,” Adrien stalled, feeling his palms beginning to grow clammy.

Ladybug put her hands on her hips. “Then I’ve got time to hear it. It would be irresponsible of me to leave you feeling so bad, Adrien. If you still want to help me, do it by letting me help you!”

Adrien glanced over to the container where Plagg had been resting. The kwami had left to hide himself, so there were no risks there. Besides, he didn’t want to turn down some time spent alone with his lady, and she did have a point. If he was Chat Noir right now, he wouldn’t want to leave a civilian at risk of being akumatized.

“Fine. We can talk on the sofa, if you’re comfortable with that,” he offered.

Ladybug nodded and promptly walked over to take a seat there. She patted the spot beside her, and Adrien obediently followed her and sat down, though his heart was racing at the proximity.

“Now, what’s been bugging you?” Ladybug asked.

One side of Adrien’s mouth curved up in a barely-there smile.

“Aside from a giant ladybug and a purple butterfly?” he cracked, unable to hold back the joke.

Ladybug gave him the usual glare, and then backpedaled immediately, seeming to realize that he was not, in fact, Chat Noir. She blushed and waved her hands around, exclaiming, “Sorry! Sorry, I’m used to telling my partner to shut up and— just keep going! Sorry!”

“It’s okay,” Adrien said. “It was a bad joke.”

He fell quiet, wondering how much he wanted to tell Ladybug. They weren’t partners right now; he and Ladybug were just two well-known faces meeting by chance. She probably didn’t care about his sob story any more than she cared about the hundreds of others she heard every month. She’d stick around until she was convinced he wasn’t an akuma risk anymore, then leave. It was just a matter of finding the right words to say, the right smile to put on.

“If you don’t mind me asking,” Ladybug said hesitantly, after a long moment had passed, “is this related to what happened last year?”

Adrien turned to her in surprise. “You remember that?”

A rueful smile covered her face. “Santa Claus got akumatized. Of course I remember,” she said. 

Adrien’s heart fluttered again. It was just the circumstances, he told it. I’m not special to her.

Ladybug shifted. “Is… Christmas not a good time of year for you?”

Adrien’s mouth fell open. “What do you mean?” he rasped out. “It’s just another holiday! There’s nothing that special about it, I mean, I celebrate it but I don’t… it’s more fun when you’re a kid,” he finished lamely.

Ladybug leaned forward. “But it used to be more enjoyable, then. Something happened to change the way you feel! Even last year, you seemed excited. But now?”

A new emotion swam in her eyes, and Adrien’s stomach clenched. 

“I think I know what it is,” Ladybug said softly. Adrien sat stiffly, willing himself not to flinch as she concluded, “It doesn’t feel the same as it did when your mother was still here. Your father hasn’t been present, and your friends can’t do much to help while you’re not at school, so you’re feeling lonely. Is that right?”

She worried her lower lip between her teeth, clearly unwilling to press the issue but still hoping she’d been correct. 

Adrien nodded and looked down at his lap. “I guess you could say I’m haunted by the ghost of Christmas past,” he whispered, and oh, that joke did not come out the way he’d wanted it to. “I miss the way it was when we could celebrate as a family. My friends do try, but even Nino can’t convince my father to have another Christmas party or let him stay over for more than an hour at a time. I have a lot of time to sit and do nothing, and I hate it! I should be relaxing, or at least practicing my Chinese or the piano pieces my father wants me to learn but…”

He closed his eyes as he realized what had been stopping him. He looked back at Ladybug, who was still listening, her face turned towards him in open concern.

“We used to play Christmas songs together every year. She’d play from this old book of classics, it used to have a green cover but it fell off one year and we never found it again. And when we finished those, she’d play other songs, arrangements of modern tunes she’d found and liked. And I…”

“You can’t play the piano without thinking about her,” Ladybug finished for him. 

“Yes,” he breathed, and felt the ache in his chest sharpen as he bent over, pressing his palms to his eyes as if that could stop the tears from forming. One moment later, a hand landed on his shoulder. It hovered there as Adrien took a shuddering breath, and then Ladybug began gently rubbing circles on his back.

“I’m so sorry, Adrien,” she earnestly told him. “I wish you had been able to talk to someone about this before! Your father should be more understanding; I know he misses her, too. If you want, I could try to talk him into letting you out of piano practice for a while! Would that help you?”

Adrien hesitated, and then slowly shook his head.

“I’m so tired of being sad about this,” he admitted, wiping his eyes and sitting up a little straighter. “I don’t want to hide from it, either. It’s just… you’re right, I don’t have anyone to talk to about this.”

A pang went through his chest as he spoke, because technically, he did have Plagg. But even though Plagg understood loss, he wasn’t the best at talking about it or dealing with ‘icky’ human emotions. And none of his friends had gone through something like this, and his father would never open up enough for such a discussion.

“Well, you should know that I am here for you,” Ladybug said in a determined voice. “I know we aren’t really close, but I’ve seen how good you are. You’re kind to those around you, even the people I wouldn’t be as willing to trust. The fact that when you’re hurting, no one can help you the way you help others… it isn’t right! It’s not fair, and if you’re ever going through something like this again, you should call me. Er, leave a message on the Ladyblog! I’ll see it eventually and come over. If that’s what you’d like! You can tell me to just leave you alone, you know? I can do that now if I’m being intrusive!”

Ladybug was blushing and playing with one of her pigtails when Adrien looked over at her.

“I don’t want you to leave,” he said quickly. “That’s a really generous offer, Ladybug. I know you’re busy, especially now that… uh, now that Hawkmoth has two Miraculous at once,” he finished, remembering that Adrien Agreste had no way of knowing about Ladybug’s responsibilities as Guardian.

“I meant it, Adrien. I really do want to help you,” Ladybug insisted.

She looked the same way she did when she was about to solve her Lucky Charm and win the akuma battle, like she wasn’t going to let anything get in her path and stop her from achieving her goal. Seeing the serious expression on her face, Adrien couldn’t help but smile, and while it was small, it was more genuine than any he’d worn in the past few days.

“Thank you,” he said in a small voice. “That means so much to me. Just knowing somebody cares this much helps, but I’m wondering… I think it might help if I did play some of our old songs, but with someone new. I have to move forward at some point, and I’d rather keep the memories with me instead of trying to box them up.”

Ladybug tilted her head. “You want me to play piano with you? I’m honored, but I’m afraid I don’t know how!”

Adrien stood up and offered her a hand. When she took it, he pulled her up off the couch and led her over to the place where his piano had been sitting untouched since noon.

“You don’t have to. You just have to promise not to make fun of me when I can’t remember how any of the songs go,” he joked.

Ladybug wrinkled her nose in offense. “I would never,” she huffed. “So, you’re sure about this?”

Adrien nodded as he sat down at the bench, tapping the empty spot he’d left expectantly.

“I’m positive, m— my dear Ladybug,” he confirmed.

Ladybug’s eyes never left his as she sat down beside him. There wasn’t much room on the seat, and their legs brushed as Adrien positioned his fingers over the keys and tried to pick which tune to play.

He didn’t feel like any of the classic tunes right now. He’d heard his fill of them over the past weeks, anyway, and while they were fun, his heart felt too raw for any of them. 

Instead, he picked a slower, gentle song his mother had always liked.

After tapping out the first few chords and confirming that he was in the right key, Adrien glanced at Ladybug. 

“This one is called ‘The Snow Path.’ It’s from Canada, and it’s normally sung, but Mother found a piano arrangement she liked, so we played that. And later, I played while she sang,” he remembered, and his mouth twitched. 

It felt like he wanted to smile and cry at the same time. Suddenly nervous, he started playing, remembering the right notes as he went and sometimes pausing to replay the same bar a few times until he got it right.

“Sorry,” he apologized perfunctorily.

Ladybug shook her head, and her pigtails brushed his cheek. “Don’t be. It sounds lovely so far,” she whispered.

Adrien nodded and continued, playing until he reached the end of the short piece and then pausing. “I want to play it again,” he said, and it wasn’t just because he wanted to get all the notes right this time.

“Then do,” Ladybug encouraged, and so the song began again.

Somehow, this song had always felt nostalgic, but now especially, it was bringing tears to his eyes as he remembered the past and the vision he’d always had this time of year. Paris never got much snow, but when he heard this song, he could picture a curving trail through the woods, already blanketed by snow, with more falling around him as he walked along. There was an older couple ahead of him and a girl on his left. They’d just left their cabin and were enjoying a nice walk before they’d head back for hot chocolate and then bake cookies. They’d decorate the tree, and Adrien would let the girl hang her ornament up higher than anyone else’s. They’d hang tinsel, and string on the lights, and just sit there together, talking about everything and nothing, listening to music and eating the cookies they’d decorated.

It was a beautiful dream, one he’d had for years. But it was one Adrien could never have.

A sudden touch on his cheek stirred him from his thoughts, and he realized he’d stopped playing.

“You’re crying,” Ladybug whispered, her face close to his. She wiped a tear from his cheek and started moving back, but Adrien grabbed her hand and brought it back to his cheek.

He struggled for words, unsure of what he wanted to say. Sorry for crying and ruining the song? No, besides, she wasn’t the type to care about that. I’m not sad, I’m just happy? They both knew that was a lie. Then what?

“I’ll be okay,” he said eventually. “I’m sad, of course; I miss her. But I’m also happy that you’re here. I’m glad someone gets to hear the music and maybe remember her with me. It makes her feel less distant.”

Ladybug’s face smoothed out, the worry leaving her eyes. “I’m glad you chose to share her memory with me,” she said. “I’m happy to be here with you, and I’m glad I could help, even if it’s just a little. So thank you, Adrien, for letting me.”

Adrien found it was becoming easier to smile, so he did as he slowly released her hand. Ladybug blushed and clasped her hands together in her lap.

“Do you mind if I play it one more time?” Adrien asked.

Ladybug smiled. “I would love that,” she said.

Adrien began to play the familiar tune, feeling more confident this time, and hummed along to the melody. Softly, Ladybug began to join in, and he smiled encouragingly. She blushed a little, but didn’t stop, instead leaning against him and humming a little louder.

This time, when Adrien pictured the snowy path in the woods, he didn’t think about the couple ahead of him. He forgot about the cabin and the tree and the cookies and just thought about the snow falling gently around him and the girl at his side. He let himself smile, because even in the cold, he was sure that the love in his heart would keep him warm.

At the end of the song, tears were still stinging his eyes, but they didn’t threaten to fall. The ache in his chest was still present, but it hurt much less than it had before. He felt strong enough to stop playing, to turn to Ladybug and thank her, to say goodbye without worrying about one of Shadowmoth’s butterflies finding him and preying on the negative emotions which were beginning to fade away.

“Thank you,” he whispered, and in the comfortable quiet of the moment, he was sure it wasn’t just Ladybug who heard. There was a warm presence at his other side, calm and reassuring, reminding Adrien that he was never truly alone. 

“You’re welcome, Adrien.”

[callme-naomi]

Faced up, cold heart, no longer by my side now

Warning: angst, manga spoilers

Summary: the graveyard has a lot of stories to tell, if only anyone would stop and listen. However, some stories are best kept hidden from the living.

You may have heard stories, gossips, rumours, from the living. But even the graveyard has a lot of stories to tell, if only anyone would stop and listen.

Yes, you read it right. The land full of the dead has more to tell you than anyone else could. It has been a silent witness to countless events, the silent listener to tears shed at night, and the flowers showered in the morning, and words of regret and longing spoken.

It will tell you the story of the boy with pink hair, who comes by in the morning, and spends hours. It's not that he has a lot of time to spare. It's because he has a lot of people to visit. To tell them he misses them, to tell them he's sorry he couldn't do more.

Even the birds stand still as the happy-smiley boy lets down his defences and goes to his grandfather's grave, then his teachers', then his brother's, and so on, all the while his face being washed with tears while he lays down a flower. The very air halts to carry his whispered words,

"Grandfather, I miss you."

"Sensei, nothing's the same without you."

"Nanamin, I'm so sorry I couldn't save you. I promise, I didn't take the easy way out."

"Choso, I wish we had more time together."

And he wondered if the words he spoke were heard by anyone but him.

The graveyard will tell you the story of the spiky-black-haired boy, his steps masked in the darkness of the night, his heart heavy as he walks towards the family he never had, and the family that slipped through his fingers. Regarded as one of the strongest of his age, all his powers left him as he crumbled to the ground, eyes emptily staring at the graves holding pieces of his heart.

He lived for them, and now that they're gone too soon...

He conflicted between screaming his rage and pain out, and simply crying as his gaze roamed over his parents' graves. Guilt and grief seeped through him as he approached his sister's grave, the girl who, despite having no powers, chose to protect him, always.

And then, at his teacher's grave, who cared for him like his own, despite not being obliged to, not caring for the family rivalry, and still loving him till the very end. He hated himself as he looked down on his hands, stained with the invisible blood, and even though he knew he was powerless to stop this death, and it wasn't his fault, for him, it didn't change the fact that his father figure was gone too soon.

And the man who, despite being heavily injured and losing an eye, put himself in the way to save him, who fought till the very end and even in his last moments, prioritized others over his self. Who left the world with unfulfilled dreams

At this age, when children go to the park with their families, this boy goes to the graveyard, with a burdened heart, to his family six feet under him, but still too distant.

Leaving behind a mere idea of what could have been.

And the graves will also tell you the story of the young doctor, her eyes rimmed with dark circles, her hands heavy with the uncountable lives she saved, who comes to lament the lives she failed to save, and the people she used to think would be with her forever, but left her alone in this cruel world.

The doctor, tired, allows a sob to escape as she stands in front of the graves of her classmates and juniors, reminiscing over the joyful memories they made, the trips and rules they broke together, and the beautiful sunny days of their friendship, not even having once thought that nobody will make it to this day. That one day, there might be no one left with her to remake those memories.

She hated all of them for leaving her alone, yet she loved all of them for making those few years of her life worth living.

The graveyard has more to tell, but some stories are best kept secret from both the living and the dead bodies.

What it can never tell you is the story of two best friends, separated by the harshness and cruelty of the world, united in death, mere one year apart.

What it doesn't know is the story of the man with the broken dreams, who is now at peace, with the joy and freedom he struggled all his life to find. Who is now united with the best friend he lost all those years ago.

It doesn't know, either, the story of the sisters, who lost their lives trying to bring back the father who saved them once, and are with him together, forever.

Nor does it know the young girl, who was her younger brother's entire reason of living, but was ruthlessly killed in a violent turn of events, who is free from the world where she was never wanted.

Some things are best kept secret, as the best friends and the man with the broken dreams, and the girls and twins look down upon the people they left behind. Their students, their brothers, their friends, the living, who do not know that the dead see their acts of love and remembrance, whose love for them will never diminish, who are always so proud of them and can't wait to see them again.

But if it means they get to live the life they never did, then not knowing is best, after all. If it means they won't end their lives to end their wait, then they can wait a bit longer.

[halcyon-writings]

nav.

Sometimes an almost hurts more than what ever could have been.

— Metal sings in the air as blades clash. You feel it in your forearms, the pressure of gravity as your soles of your shoes dig into the grassy dirt.

Your lips form an 'o' shape as you look at the Princeling (Prince, he insisted once upon a time), your brow raising in an impressed arch. Before he swings his arm down, you disarm yourself, letting the blade disappear.

"You haven't lost your touch," You note. He regards you wearily.

Snapping your fingers, like you're trying to remember something until your smile sets again. "Pardon, you haven't lost your touch, Your Highness." Your smile is a cold thing, nothing like the friendly or trusting one he had been on the end of long ago.

"You know that title is one I've left behind," He says quietly.

Xavier gets no response, as you've already disappeared into the dense trees. Your laughter drifts behind you, and he is left standing alone in the clearing.

Just like the rest of us? He can already hear your voice mocking him.

You were the child of his father's Knight Commander, the Grandis Knight, and at such a young age, your potential had been spoken of with no less pride.

You'd even gotten yourself words of praise from the King. Which meant to the young prince, you were automatically considered a personal enemy.

Of course, you had no such qualms. You were not deterred by his short or clipped answers to your questions or attempts at conversation. More often than not, you had sought him out when your fathers met with the King's counsellors. Your voice was a happy chirp, a toy sword in your arms.

To the point where your persistence began to grow on him. Until one day you didn't accompany your father. Well, you hadn't shown up to the Academy for a few days either, missing three days of lessons. (Xavier had refused to acknowledge then, that he was worried. Not you, loud, chatty.... friendly... you.)

A maid had hurried to try and at least get you presentable for the visit he had made. But you had promptly turned green at standing up too fast, so that killed this idea faster than a royal hunt could kill any quarry. Instead he finds you sniffling and coughing into a crumpled napkin in your fist, he tries not to make a face when a cough sounds too full of phlegm.

"Sorry, Prince Xavier," You try and wheeze out, "I would stand to greet you but I think I might just puke all over your shoes if i do."

“I’ll ignore such a break in protocol this once,” He shrugs, striding through the door like he owned the place. But then again, he sort of did…

You join him when he plans to leave Philos in his search to stabilize the planet’s core. He tells you about the dangers of this mission. How it could be years until you return. More so that he doesn’t want to imagine yourself in harm, at risk of whatever may come from this venture.

All you do is laugh, shaking your head, “What sort of Grandis Knight would I be if I didn’t follow my future King?”

Your future King. Xavier coughs, hiding the nervous stammer, into his fist.

Elbowing him, you even wiggle your eyebrows playfully, “Besides, if I’m right, isn’t there someone special waiting for you? All the more reason to make sure you return in one piece.” It makes him blush, which only makes you laugh.

He shook his head at the memory. As he roused from his short afternoon slumber, his cheek pressed against his open palm as he stares outside of the window to his apartment.

Without realizing it, your name leaves his mouth in a whisper. It’s a rattling thing, to be so undone by a name he once could recall with fondness… with something he can’t name. He can’t, lest it undo him completely.

Do you think about him too?

It’s a question that Xavier doesn’t know if he wants the answer to.

Not when it’s no longer the happy and joyful smile you had directed at him. Not when it became something cold and unfeeling.

Instead Xavier curls deeper into his blanket, his phone buzzing, but he doesn’t check the screen. Hopefully his dreams provide happier memories this time. Of ones where you’re still at his side.

[mtchacffinz]

Omg if youre taking requestsss,

Could u plsss do something like reader is being neglected bcuz (charac) is too busy with work but then they realise and then spend time.. like angst to fluff ahh

Maybe with few characters like cyno, haitham, wanderer, xiao??

Thank you!!

💗💗💗

prompt! Been away for too long, won't you atleast miss me?

cw! gn! reader, tooth-rotting fluff (SFW), clinginess, maybe a crybaby reader in a certain part, words of affirmation, established relationship, lots of tender moments, mentions of Chasm Archon Quest

note! i love fluff. this is adorable so i shall deliver. plus, i think my acc needs some fluff too after all the smut I've written! (⁠´⁠ ⁠.⁠ ⁠.̫⁠ ⁠.⁠ ⁠`⁠)...

Here we are, overthinking again. In all seriousness, this can't be! Many suns and moons have passed, yet he still hasn't said a single word about his whereabouts! Did he somehow forget about contacting you? Maybe he fell down a hole through a ditch never to be heard again.. Perhaps he fell in-love with another lovely surpassing your wits and charm?

You were no stranger to solitude. It doesn't scratch an itch anywhere in your mind space that requires you to gnaw on your lip every waking moment you feel that churning feeling in your stomach. Definitely not— Absolutely not! You believe that some parts in life are needed alone to be addressed with just the right amount of tenacity and resistance. You would come back to your loved ones with triumphant smiles chanting "I'm back, I'm back! I did it!" like a warrior.

Your mind spiraled into incoherent theories about his unknown agendas— too indulged notice the recurring voice that seems to speak your name.

And when you finally turn to see behind was when he finally graces your presence.

CYNO.

There was tense aura in the air, the last breath leaving even more awkward than the last. It was obvious Cyno wants to say something, but his lips stay sealed— quietly observing you waiting to see how you will move instead.

It seems as if he thinks you're really upset. Just an inference, his intuition— a baseless assumption. I mean, who wouldn't be after leaving your partner hanging for 3 months straight venturing out into the desert?

He's a lovely partner. You think that, wholeheartedly. You really do. But seriously!? You understand there must've been at least some sort of viable explanation, but a part of you couldn't help but feel upset.

"I'm glad you're home safe." You finally speak, releasing a big sigh. It was as if a big weight lifts off your chest. Your smile says nothing more than joy and relief. Well, maybe a little too joyful.

Because you know full well if you speak your next words, your voice would break.

So you keep your lips pursed only for you to keep your own thoughts. Cyno is no average man. As a Mahamatra with fearsome agendas, his life is always on the line whenever he ventures out into the wild. Once, he returned to Avidya Forest with curse marks all over his body— crimson spurs trail over his gear, you were barely keeping it together!

Seconds pass, it was grew concerning that none of you were saying.. well, words. After all, you both have just reunited, and Cyno has probably gone through a rigorous mission that rendered his lips sealed, right? With curious eyes, you steal a glance from his figure. Your partner stood with remarkable posture, eyes evasive of yours. The young man seemed to be contemplating something.. expression a little solemn and glum.

With a gulp and a hesitant stare, he finally speaks his mind.

"I'm.. sorry. Forgive me, dear. There was a huge misconduct within the Akademiya and Matras I had to keep anonymous for—" he stops a little before continuing. Cyno's gaze is at the floor. "I had to keep anonymous for you.. for us. I couldn't send out letters. Please forgive me, (Y/n)."

Cyno takes another deep breath. "I understand if you'd like to lash out on my sudden return, so feel free to do so—" you quickly wave your hands in fluster.

"Ah, no no no! Really, Cyno, it's fi—ne...uhuh." You suddenly hiccuped.

With the first crack of your voice, your eyes immediately began to flow waterfalls. Salty tears pricked your (e/c) optics glossing over them with a glint. Cyno immediately rushes to your side whilst you immediately clung onto him like he's your life line.

Oh, Archons. He's your life. Just by his voice just now, you almost felt like your heart melted AND got crushed at the same time with just the weight of his words. Lash out? Of course you would! You're worried SICK. And you've missed him!

"You have no idea! I was holding onto these for 15 minutes earlier!" Your voice broke, fighting for your feelings. Cyno only wipes away your tears and nose with his sleeves in panic— repeating his apologies in a hushed voice over and over again.

AL HAITHAM.

The scent of scroll dust, his calloused hands, his warm breath on your head. For the past hours of his return, you only asked for one thing: to be held until you, yourself— let go of him. And judging by how how long Al Haitham has unknowingly neglected you, he's willing to make up for his wordless days.

But..

"Hey, honey.. dear..?" the Scribe softly calls out, gently tapping your shoulder. "Sweetheart? (Y/n)?" A little too indulged in his arms, you fail to give a response. This was when he sighed, and nuzzles deeper into your neck.

"(Y/n), it's been six hours. Surely you're feeling a little better now?"

"You've been gone for months."

"I know. But it's almost dinner, and we haven't eaten yet."

"We can starve here." You respond just as quickly. He sweatdrops, unable to tell if you were joking or dead serious. Look, his arm is cramping, his whole body is sweating, and he's dehydrated. The blanket that was wrapped around your body was on the floor, and you seem to be a little tired yourself. Taking matters into his own hands, you get surprised that his arms suddenly wrap tighter around you, lifting you up in his arms.

"You're ridiculous," Al Haitham puts you around his shoulder like you're a sack of rice, making his way through the kitchen. "I'm making dinner. You cling onto me all you want. We're eating."

After all, you never said anything about him moving while holding you, right?

All you could do was grumble and whine in his ears. The scribe doesn't seem to mind, as he gets a pan, his seasonings, and his food. Tapping your back occasionally, with every turn he make, your partner makes sure the doesn't accidentally burn or hit you with something while you're in his shoulders. With time passing, you're starting to get a little embarrassed yourself.. getting dragged all the way from the bedroom the the kitchen. Tugging on his clothes, you called out his name.

"Haitham, please let me down.."

Maybe it was the wind carrying your words away, but he doesn't seem to react. Your partner only focuses on whatever he's frying at the moment with his free arm on your figure. With lips pursed, you repeat again.

"Haitham."

"I heard you. I don't want to, you're staying there."

"What? No way! You're probably tired!"

"Oh? Don't back out now, I was going to feed you as well. I'm yours the whole week— I'm not leaving your sights very soon." Your partner says with a voice enough to leave no room for rebuttals and arguments. Seeing your face, slowly being taken over with embarrassment, ignites a small flame in him.

After a few mere moments of your silence, you grasp onto his clothing once again. This time, your voice was softer, a little more calmer.

"You're gonna be mine the whole week?"

WANDERER.

Ever since his return, the Wanderer has been gracing you with diverse stories from different parts of the land. Now, he isn't one to ramble his mouth nor entertain anybody with his experiences— so the indigo haired man could consider this "spoiling" you rotten.

After a long, exhilarating lectures of Vahumana Darshans, as well as interviews from other nations regarding his thoughts on different political matters— Wanderer has finally made enough time to spend with people he could actually tolerate.

On the other hand, he has been too kind, taking you to vast sceneries and feeding you all sorts of delicacies. It's as if he's trying to make up for something.. and you know what, you have no idea. But this? This is nice! Ignoring his witty and no-filter-opinion attitude, Wanderer has been significantly nicer to you last time you met.

Shopping, sight seeing, trying all sorts of new things. After all, what does he do with all the Mora he receives when he's but a puppet who doesn't even need to eat nor sleep?

He looks for no reciprocation nor gratitude, because he unknowingly believes seeing your smiling face because of him is enough to make his entire day. Of course, that doesn't stop you from profusely thanking him and actively trying to lessen all the things being given to you because do you really deserve it?

I'd you asked him, he'd look at you like you're crazy. Why wouldn't you deserve it? Why else wouldn't it be you? Do you prefer I do this for anyone else?

As night engulfs the sky, kissing it with a gentle good bye, the moonlight greets your resting frame. The Wanderer had found interestingly large lily pads that could hold up to 4 persons. Apparently, aranara's use it to navigate around lakes they couldn't get across.

The scenery is wonderful. Fireflies emerge from the shadows, and the lake sings a mellifluous tune every gush of waves it encounters. You were resting well, and his elysian self was beside you.

You were strange, that's for sure. Strange enough he'd like to keep taking you in like you're oxygen, as if you're some sort of life line to live from. Wanderer is not a man with too much words, so he could only gaze up to your figure.

A familliar noise of waddling makes their way towards you, an Aranara falling suit. It bee lines towards your figure, cozing up to your body.

Wanderer picks it up by its head gear, clicking his tongue.

"Hey. No cuddling. You lay beside me."

XIAO.

Xiao melts deeper into your arms as if he's lightweight, surprising you with the sudden return of his warmth.

His touches were featherlight, his firm hands on the small of your back. Fully aware of his fatigue eating away his skin, the Adeptus clutches your figure tightly.

"Sorry.." Xiao's voice was barely above a whisper. You frown upon his state, but your eyes were never pitiful. He knew of that. You say nothing but hold him in your arms in response. Mere moments pass with the wind blowing ever so softly in the sky.

You lull him with soft whispers, sweet nothings grazing his ear leaving out one another. Xiao's a little bashful— he's the one who's failed to keep up with your mundane agendas in everyday life leaving you alone, yet upon his return— you greet him with the best embrace this world has to offer.

After all the events at the Chasm, his encounter with Bosacius, and most of all, the lingering miasma that's been exceedingly abundant within the area, Xiao wasn't able to make time and shake off all the troubles he's facing. The Adeptus lie solemn with the softest look in his eyes gazing at your own. You know full well if he opens his mouth now, all that will come pouring out is his endless apologies that could be recited in millenias.

Instead, your hands gently caressed his cheeks— pecking those pursed lips who let out a soft sigh.

Xiao returns the gesture by holding you waist down, firmly keeping his hands on you. Chasing after your lips it was like something clicked in him the moment you even lent him a moment of your vulnerability. He was hungry, that's for sure. The Adeptus made it obvious with his knitted brows and those piercing gaze.

Amusement bubbled at the bottom of your stomach, letting out a small chuckle. Xiao's confused eyes met yours, questioning your sudden interest.

"You returned to me, that's lovely."

He responds to your claim in a grumble, now averting his eyes. Xiao's hand never leaves yours.

"I have to.." Those hands slowly travel to your cheeks, caressing them in pure affection. "I need to."

my smutty writings are usually the ones who get attention, so I'm wondering how this one will do? 🎶 Anyway, I'm also planning on writing for Honkai Impact's Kalpas 🤞 STAY TUNED

[prythianpages]

ACOSM | The Night she met Azriel

azriel x rhysand's sister (oc)

warnings: fluff/angst

A/N: this is an imagine among my collection of imagines that follow Rhysand's sister, Valeria. while I'm still working on it, you can find the masterlist for it here. The song I pictured Valeria playing was Snowfall by Oneheart x Reidenshi. Also, I think Azriel is older than Rhys and Cass but for the sake of this fic, they are all the same age. They're all young kids in this imagine.

**

“Come on now, dear. It’s much too cold outside to stay out here.” Lady Yvaine said to the young boy behind her. She placed a gentle hand onto his shoulder and offered the boy a smile as she ushered him inside her house, making a note to buy him a proper coat for this bitter winter first thing tomorrow morning.

“Make yourself at home. I was just finishing up dinner before you arrived.” Lady Yvaine gave him a soft pat on the shoulder before disappearing down the hallway.

The boy stood in the foyer for a moment.

A beautiful sound –one he’d never heard before, resonated from somewhere in the house. The sound drew his curiosity in and he found himself stepping forward into what appeared to be the living room. His steps were slow and quiet, afraid that his intrusion would hinder the music. His shadows were pressed against his back–some hiding behind his wings and others curiously peeking over his shoulders.

Beautiful, they whispered into his ears.

That’s when he saw her. 

The girl in the dark blue dress who was one with the music. Her back was straight but wings relaxed, eyes closed and legs crossed as they dangled over her seat. Her fingers glided easily over the keys of the grand piano before her, bringing each note to life with such care and tenderness. He remained silent, watching the scene before him in awe. 

A sense of tranquil beauty filled the room. The song was a perfect embodiment of the serenity of the snow falling outside. It painted a picture of a peaceful winter landscape– a deep contrast to the dark and harsh camp outside. 

When the song came to a gradual end, the girl finally opened her eyes. Her body grew still for a brief moment and the shadows wrapped around his shoulders tensed in nervous excitement.

She could sense him.

And then the girl was looking at him with blue eyes so deep they were violet. Breathtakingly beautiful. A quick sudden widening of her eyes occurred and he silently ordered his curious shadows to stay put, worry and fear washing over him. She was frightened–

He didn’t get to finish his thoughts as his shadows swarmed over to her, defiant against his orders and she giggled. He watched with pure shock etched onto his face as his shadows caressed her arms, eliciting another giggle. His shadows had never rushed toward someone else like this before.

And then the girl was smiling. At him.

“You must be the Shadowsinger.” She said.

“The Shadowsinger has a name, dear.” Lady Yvaine’s voice corrected the girl from the kitchen. “Azriel.”

“Azriel.” The girl repeated.

Azriel did not think he could hear anything prettier than the song she just played but at the sound of his name coming from her lips, he was proven wrong again.

Everything happened in a blur next. One moment he was standing alone at the entrance of the living room and the next, she was right in front of him with a wide smile. Her hand found his and he found himself holding his breath.

Her hand was soft and gentle. His hand was rough and harsh, permanently scarred by the cruelty of his own brothers. He worried as he held his breath if she would find his hands repulsive as most people did. But she paid no mind to it, happily dragging him toward her piano. 

It was only once they were seated that he allowed himself to breathe again.

Friend, his shadows whispered in the same excitement as before as they returned to him.

 Distracted by his shadows, he hadn’t realized she’d been staring at him the whole time, even as she began to play another song. A more joyful tune this time–one he recognized instantly as it was a popular tune of the Night Court. His gaze met her expectant one. His eyebrows knitted together. Why was she staring at him like that?

“Why aren’t you singing?” The girl asked.

Azriel blinked back at her. “I don’t sing.”

Now, it was her turn for her eyebrows to knit in confusion. “But you’re a shadowsinger.”

Laughter was quick to follow the awkward silence. 

As he heard footsteps, Azriel looked up toward the stairs of the house. Two young boys, similar in age to him, ran down the steps. They both had dark hair, sun kissed skin and wings like his but their similarities ended there. One had short and neatly combed hair with eyes similar to the girl beside Azriel. The other had longer hair–barely past his chin–and it was messier than the boy’s in front of him. His eyes were also darker.

“By the Cauldron, Valeria!” The boy with similar eyes to the girl chuckled. They must be related, he thought. “Just because he is a shadowsinger doesn’t mean he sings.”

Valeria, Azriel repeated to himself in his head. What a pretty name.

Valeria sent the boy a vulgar gesture as she stood from her seat beside Azriel. Heat rose up to her cheeks as she turned to him again. “Perhaps, it’s your shadows that sing?”

Azriel couldn’t bring himself to reply. He did not want to lie to her but he also did not want to disappoint her. Sensing this, one of his shadows flew to one of the keys of the piano and pressed it randomly. Valeria’s face blushed deeper at the realization while the other two boys erupted into laughter.

“I’m sorry.” Azriel said.

“Don’t apologize for my sister’s stupidity.” The boy said in a playful warning tone. “You’ll quickly grow tired of it as unfortunately, she is always this embarrassing.”

“No, I must apologize.” Valeria said as she glared daggers at her brother. “Because my dear brother here is infuriating and you’ll quickly grow annoyed by the sight of him. His head is so big because it’s full of shi–”

“Children!” Lady Yvaine yelled at them. Her voice sounded closer this time. So that was their mother, Azriel confirmed to himself.

“Bed-wetter.”

Valeria gasped, sparing Azriel and the boy beside her brother a mortified look. He had promised not to tell anyone. “It was only one time! You–you, lint-licker!”

Azriel watched with wide eyes as the siblings continued to throw insults at each other, the distance decreasing between them with each one. The other boy came to stand next to Azriel and turned to him with an amused grin. “Don’t worry. The best part is yet to come.”

“I’m Cassian by the way,” the boy finally introduced himself.

“The best part?” Azriel couldn’t help but repeat in disbelief as he recalled the times he and his brothers would fight. Nothing good would come out of this…

Instead of answering Azriel, Cassian pointed toward the doorway that led to the kitchen and began to countdown. “3..2..1…”

“That is enough, you two!” A voice, Lady Yvaine’s, exclaimed in anger as she finally appeared with a wooden spoon in her hand. “Bonding time!”

The siblings let out a sound of protest.

“Now.”

Azriel watched as fear flashed in both of the sibling’s eyes at their mother’s tone. Without further protest, the two sat themselves on the floor, across from each other with their knees touching. Cassian seated himself on the piano bench next to Azriel, adjusting himself so their wings wouldn’t be touching.

“Rhysand,” their mother spoke. “You may begin.”

Rhysand let out a huff. He reluctantly reached out to grab for his sister’s hand. “Your eyes are pretty.”

Valeria rolled her “pretty” eyes. They were identical to Rhysand’s in shape but differed slightly in color. Valeria’s eyes were a deeper violet, appearing more purple than blue. Judging by the flicker of amusement that flashed within his violet orbs, she knew he was merely complimenting himself.

“I guess your hair is nice...today.”

Lady Yvaine shot them both a glare and if looks could kill, Valeria and Rhysand might’ve found themselves six feet under.

Valeria sighed. “While your head is big, I do not think it’s full of shit.”

Cassian snorted and Lady Yvaine winced at the curse word.

“I’m sure it’s filled with the burden of being the firstborn.” Valeria continued. “I know it’s not easy, which is why I admire your strength and perseverance. No matter how many times you get your as--butt kicked."

“Thank you, my dear sister.” Rhysand replied with a smile. Although there was a certain wittiness and mischief to her words, he recognized there was also truth and sincerity in them. A fine line Valeria walked. So he decided to continue in the sly banter to match his sister’s level, not daring to cross the line either.

Just enough as to not upset their mother further but also enough to leave her satisfied.

“I’m afraid I misspoke earlier.” Rhysand apologized. “You’re not embarrassing–at least not always. I do find myself admiring your curiosity. You’re really brave.”

Valeria’s lips curved upwards to mirror her brother’s smile. They turned to their mother, who gave them an approving nod after some moments of hesitance and contemplation. Exchanging a brief hug, the two got up to their feet.

Lady Yvaine chose to ignore Cassian’s protest of letting them get off the hook so easily. She was already embarrassed at the scene they caused in front of their guest.

“Alright, now before we have dinner, I want to formally introduce our new guest.” Lady Yvaine announced as she walked over to the piano bench. Her hands rested upon Azriel’s shoulders. “This is Azriel. His mother is a close friend of mine. She’s unable to be here at the moment so he will be staying with us for as long as he needs to.”

“Welcome, Azriel.” Rhysand said with a nod of his head.

“I hope we didn’t frighten you.” Valeria said with a timid smile, her shoulder bumping into Rhysand, who returned the gesture, with a gentle smile of his own.

“Come along now, children. It’s time for dinner.” 

Cassian was the first to follow, falling into step with Lady Yvaine, eager to find what was for dinner tonight. Azriel watched in silence as Lady Yvaine patted Cassian’s head, chiding him over his messy, tangled hair. He groaned in protest, claiming that he had in fact brushed his hair this morning. 

Rhysand and Valeria fell into step behind them, still shoving each other lightly and mumbling things to each other. Their laughter echoed the joy of their restored sibling bond. That no matter what, their bond would always remain unbreakable.

Something that Azriel didn’t have.

It struck something in him, bringing back to surface a familiar ache. An ache residing so deep within the core of his being. It was an emptiness that yearned to be filled. The same emptiness that provided a constant reminder of the absence of love and support in his life.

He told himself he would be okay, that the emptiness was a cruel friend of his. 

But as he found himself captivated by Valeria’s laughter, he couldn’t help but play out what happened moments ago in his head again. From Valeria’s instant kindness, the way her eyes lit up at his presence, Lady Yvaine’s warmth and generosity, Cassian and Rhysand welcoming him to the way they had all accepted his shadows with no fear of them. 

Rhysand looked back to Azriel, pulling him out of his thoughts with a knowing smile as he gestured for Azriel to follow them to the dining table.

There was the slightest curve to Azriel’s lips as he followed them. The first time he dared to smile in months–years, even. The ache still lingered deep in his chest but the emptiness was threatened.

While there was still a tinge of sadness in his heart, there was now a shimmer of hope.

Family? His shadows dared to whisper to him.