#well i just spent the last few hours writing that and trying to remember which worldbuilding for both worlds i wanna break or keep

[queseraphita]

Azem Headcanons

[Author’s note: I always go back and forth on the Azem lore in relation to Zero and Mikhail because I do not make their story standard approach to MSQ but had eventually come to the decision that Mikhail is NOT Azem due to his dragon origins and dragons in ffxiv originate from another world separate from the one that was sundered and are basically like aliens. He does however gain the seat of Azem, inheriting the star stone Emet-selch had made in secret and could be said to have taken up their will, narrative wise. *Zero is one of the incarnations of the last person who inherited the seat of Azem but had decided not to join her mentor for she did not see this as the “Answer”.] 

Concept 

Zero not joining or being involved at all in the crisis happening in the Convocation of Fourteenth is because I’m personally interested in the first appearance of the Watchers making their first move on other worlds and assimilating it into their network of information.  The first move they make is releasing a flower that will consume anything and take the data it has accumulated and either BECOME or send a proxy out that can shapeshift into the thing that it killed.  Zero as Azem is sent off to investigate this rumor of livestock and people going missing. A few interviewees even claimed to see some sort of amorphous monsters bringing offerings to a spherical white object made of unknown matter. (A/N:*chimera ant arc meets To your eternity)  This thing ends up getting the better of Zero and on the brink of the final days being amplified by the despairing telethy birds she is killed and consumed by the Flower and later takes on said form of Zero and finds it to be the strongest they’ve ever consumed.  Upon trying to shapeshift into the Zero’s form and data collected from her, Zero suddenly gains consciousness of her situation and in one last act of self sacrifice asserts her will over the Flower and attempts to kill herself and the flower with it. For this life form called the Flower copies everything that is consumed including its soul.  Even if the Flower is incapable of processing such characteristics of humanity like feelings and emotions it will still absorb the information and try to culminate the data to the best within its given parameters set by its Creators. In an act of survival  it attempts to regenerate and revive itself but splits its power amongst five copies of the lifeform it absorbed called “Zero”.  The attempt at using creation magicks at its disposal ends horribly outside of its control as the telethy enacting the Final Days mutate the copies of Zero’s split soul and the Flower being that of a creation is susceptible to dynamis. All five copies of Zero, in a fit of fear and survival, flee from her attempt at rounding them up. With nowhere to turn for help in a situation outside of her expertise, seeing first hand what the Final Days is ravaging across the land with a plague of creation magicks and a Flower that is designed for its ceaseless hunger for apocalypticism. Amidst the chaos reaching a boiling point when the Convocation announces their proposal of the construction of Zodiark. None of her colleagues believe her story of a Flower Concept devouring anything in its reach without revealing that she too has been compromised by said blight.  Zero finds an unlikely ally in a powerful dragon far traveled from its star named Micheal.  To be Continued etc

Accord is of course monitoring and cataloging all of this. As this singularity and branch needs to be further studied for the ramifications it could hold for the future.

[mickyschumacher]

can i request something for carlos sainz x leclerc!reader on vacation?there’s such a soft spot in me for summer vacation carlos like in a beach setting or on a yacht. it can be soft or smutty it doesn’t matter i just love summery carlos. thank you!!!

𝐒𝐄𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐒 𝐈𝐍 𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐈 .ೃ࿐

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: while the leclercs maybe spending their summer vacation at home, you opted for a secret vacation in santorini with your secret boyfriend, carlos sainz. or in which you are secretly dating your brother's teammate.

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: 18+ (minor dni), unprotected sex (if you're gonna slip, slop, slap, you must wrap your willy!), reader dob in 1999, dating in secret trope!, sainz & leclerc = google translated spanish & french ._., ig the reader has a shaved downstairs?, p in v, teasing, oral sex, lovey dovey smut?, poor humour, breastplay, fingering, cumming inside, bit of overstimulation for the reader, scandal and swift references, love confessions.

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: bf!carlos sainz x younger leclerc!fem!reader

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 4k+

𝐀/𝐍: firm agree on the summery carlos! is it really my writing if i don't get santorini involved? anyways, hope this was up to your standards! sorry for the long wait! ♡︎

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

⋆  •°.  。  .°•  ⋆

Dating your brother's teammate was never on your bucket list. Hell, you tried to stay away from Formula 1. Well, as much as Leclerc could anyways.

People older than you weren't really your type. You opted for people near your age. That way there wasn't an awkward generation gap and there was no one that reminded you of your older brothers. Carlos was only five years older than you but the generational gap was most certainly there.

Men your age were... well, boys.

Men Carlos' age were men but also men.

You had seen Carlos at races before. And he was an attractive man, obviously. But that was that. You passed each other down the paddock, barely giving each other a glance. And not to mention the obvious, you were far too young for him at the time.

But then Ferrari's first car launch after signing Carlos had happened.

You had seen Carlos more in the few hours the event lasted than the past few years. You didn't know what it was. Whether you were unintentionally stalking him or vice versa. What you did know, however, he was definitely eyeing you.

By the time Charles had introduced you, Arthur, Lorenzo, and your mother, Carlos was trying to keep his interest at bay, pretending to be as family-friendly as possible.

Carlos ended up catching you as you came out of the bathroom, smoothly asking for your number. And as much as you wanted to give it to him, you weren't going to be easy. You were a Leclerc for crying out loud.

If Carlos wanted you, he would have to earn you.

And boy did he try.

You had heard from several people and the Internet that Carlos was a hardcore romantic. You never thought about it up until he started pulling out all the stops.

He was attentive as hell, remembering your favourite drinks, slipping you a new book to read as he talked to Charles, purposely linking his pinky with yours as discreetly as he could just so he could see you flush in front of him, sending you clothes for you to wear to his races to your apartment...

Carlos was menace.

But somewhere along the line, he became your menace.

You and Carlos were the epitome of the saying 'Romance is not dead if you keep it just yours'.

Keeping it secret... sure it was frustrating at times. The both of you had person after person trying to get with you because, well, you were a Leclerc and he was Carlos Sainz. Carlos had managed to draw a line by telling people he had a girlfriend but he didn't want to reveal her.

Yeah... it didn't settle well with the grid, in particular the three gossipers of the grid: Pierre, Lando, and your brother.

But after all the little bumps in the road, it was smooth sailing.

Most of the time you spent time together was alone, just the two of you. That way, there was no risk of being caught and you could revel in each other.

Of course, it wasn't that easy. Nothing was easy with you and Carlos, especially given that you couldn't keep your hands off of one another. Carlos a slight more than you because you had the decency and fear of embarrassment of getting caught by anyone. Carlos, on the other hand, was as indecent as they come. Hands always looking for an excuse to touch you, eyes travelling to find you first in any room, sending dirty texts when you sat across him... like you said, he was a menace.

To make things easier for yourself, for this summer break, you and Carlos had picked trusty Santorini as a romantic getaway, taking his dog Piñon as a welcomed third wheeler. Filled with so many tourists that you and Carlos would look like any regular couple there.

"Now this is a summer break," You breathed out, walking on to the yacht you had rented out for your stay in Greece. The air was clean and crisp, the sun was already beating down on you despite it being nine in the morning, and the translucent blue waters brought you a sense of familiarity that Monaco held.

"Don't you agree, Piñon?" You cooed to the soft ball of white curled up into your arms. A small bark of agreement came from the dog, tail wagging in happiness.

Carlos chuckled behind you, putting down your bags on the deck, under the shade. His thick arms enveloped your waist, bringing you closer to him. Nestling his chin into your shoulder, he said, "That's good, hermosa (beautiful). Now try saying it in Spanish."

You made a face at his teasing tone. Pulling yourself out of his grasp, you turned towards him. "Ahora son unas vacaciones de verano. ¿No estás de acuerdo, mi querido Carlos?" You recreated the same coaxing tone you had given Piñon to your lover, pinching his cheek with the energy of an overly endearing mother. Now this is a summer break. Don't you agree, my dear Carlos?

Carlos gave you a pointed look. You were teasing him. You knew he liked when you spoke Spanish because it was cute to see you fumble over the words but it also meant a lot to him that you were trying.

You rolled your eyes at his reaction and settled Piñon on the deck after making sure it wasn't too hot for those small paws of his. You watched him trot around the yacht, carefully examining his surrounding to test his boundaries.

Satisfied that Piñon was safe, you turned back to Carlos. "Brunch?"

"Brunch..." Carlos trailed off, hand reaching out to your face. The soft pad of his thumb graze your lips, gently pulling on your bottom lip to watch it bounce back. "...or brunch?" He asked, voice heavy with a clear need.

Your body thrived with an eagerness to respond to his touch. Goosebumps were the paint to the canvas of your skin, littering each part of you even though you were impossibly warm in the sun. You really wanted brunch. But your stomach wanted brunch. Instead, you simply nodded to him, agreeing with the answer he had never said. "You're right. Food is very important."

Carlos groaned at your response. "Hermosa," He sighed out, bringing his arms around your waist to pull you close yet again. "I want you," He murmured against your skin, nose brushing against your cheek and hot breath wandering down your neck.

Carlos could feel you smile at his words. "And you have me... for two whole weeks," You reminded him, pressing a brief kiss to his cheek.

Carlos curled his lip in annoyance at your reminder while he revelled in your touch. "I could have you for four," He also reminded you.

You sighed. You hadn't seen him in three weeks because life had it's mysterious ways of making the both of you busy. You wanted nothing more than a month with Carlos. But it was far too suspicious.

You had barely convinced your mother and your brothers that you were going to Santorini for a 'self-exploration' trip. Charles had immediately offered to turn it into a family trip but you managed to settle him down by saying you would spend the last two weeks with them. Alexandra had been a sweetheart in the matter as well. She was the only one, as well as Kika and Lily, that had known about you and Carlos, claiming they sensed it from 'a mile away'.

What they truly meant was that Carlos wouldn't stop eye-fucking you from a far.

"It's okay," You mumbled woefully, patting his chest softly, "I'll be with you in spirit while you reign Madrid."

Carlos held in his eye roll at your theatrics, you had a flair for them. "I wish you would reign Madrid with me instead. I want you to meet the family, let me finally teach you golf, go to the holiday house with me, hmm?" He implored, chocolate brown flickering to search yours.

The pain behind your eyes made him feel frustrated. He knew how much you wanted to do that because you wanted the same thing with your family. "How 'bout I call Charles, hmm? I'm sure he'll understand."

The thought of Charles finding out from anyone but you made you shudder. Would he understand? What was so understandable about hiding the fact you were dating his teammate for over a year, especially over a call?

Arthur, amongst Charles and Lorenzo, would probably be the most hurt. You and him told each other everything. You guys were the closest in age, similar to how Lorenzo and Charles were. Hell, you even helped him confess and get with Carla. And he was waiting to do the same for you, with some he trusted and knew.

And Lorenzo? It was really for the best if he didn't know from Carlos. He had initially told you not to get too close to any of the drivers because he was worried for you and well, the reputation of F1 drivers and dating wasn't too great. But you were quite sure that anything you and Carlos did had crossed the line of 'too close'. '

"Carlos, mi amor, I love you, but I think the idea of brunch, not brunch, is more understanding."

���━━━━━━━━━━

After your brunch, you had spent some time reading to Carlos inside the yacht, not wanting to get into the water just after you had eaten nor wanting to go out when the sunshine was at it's peak.

It was serene.

The windows were open, letting a cool breeze come and help reduce the heat and you were both sprawled on the soft mattresses that served as sofas on the floor of the yacht. The calmness and peace you had desired amongst the chaos life and F1 brought.

You were half sure that Carlos was close to falling asleep in your lap, but not by your retelling of Jane Austen's Pride and Prejudice, after Carlos refused to see Keira Knightley and Matthew Macfadyen for the sixth time this year, but by the way your combed your hand through his hair as you read. (Although you were still going to be persistent because the concept of seeing those two on screen in Santorini out of all places was a need, not a want).

"Carlos, mon beau (my handsome), you're going to fall asleep. Let's go swimming," You told him, placing your bookmark in between the pages and closing the book.

Carlos groaned, looking up at you. He held your hand close to his chest. "No, it's way too hot. Don't you see the water? It looks like lava."

You narrowed your eyes. "That precisely why we should go swimming. We can't just sit here and mope around. We're in Santorini... we need to stand up and move around."

Carlos lifted his head from your lap, sitting straight so he faced you. You let out a quick yelp when he pulled you forward, placing you onto his lap, legs straddling him. "I can think about fifty ways to stand up and move around... in fifty different positions."

You could feel your thighs involuntarily clench around him. You know he felt it to. You gasped at his words and shook your head. "You are a heathen, Carlos Sainz. A barbarian... a hooligan, a sexually-driven simpleton must I continue?"

"Well, I recall you loving this heathen, infidel, barbarian, and hooligan," Carlos shrugged, warm hands inching up the white sundress you had worn this morning. The action sent a shudder down your spine.

"Carlos," You mumbled, already falling into a state where you were losing the words to speak your thoughts as Carlos kneaded the flesh of your thighs with his rough hands.

"Yes?" Those puppy brown eyes flickered to your eyes while he brought his mouth to your thighs, opting to graze your heated skin with the teeth. "Tell me what you want, hermosa. And I'll give it to you."

You faltered at his words. His gaze was heavy with a dark blaze that sent your stomach churning. You allowed yourself to fully straddle Carlos' lap, teeth sinking into your bottom lip when you felt Carlos' clothed bulge press into your core.

Carlos struggled to prevent a strained hiss escape his gritted teeth, his grip on your thighs tightening, your flesh escaping the confines of his hands. Fuck, were your thighs so enticing to Carlos. He wanted to bite them and bruise them so even weeks later, they were covered in the reminiscents of him.

"What do you want, baby? Please tell me," Carlos begged, eyes desperately searching your own for any sign or indication of what you wanted.

You felt your core clench at the plea falling from Carlos' plump lips. You hadn't even really done anything but he was ready to serve you. Everything was foggy. You couldn't think straight. "I want... I want you, Carlos. Fuck, anything, everything... I–make love to me. Show me how much you love me."

His roaming hands came to a halt. "Mierda (shit)," Carlos cursed, bringing his tongue to swipe his bottom lip.

He could do that. He would love you so much that the entirety of Santorini would know and no one would even question your relationship with him.

Carlos brought his hands to your back, feeling the numerous strings of your dress against the pads of his fingers. One hand worked to undo the very knots he had done this morning while the other creeped up the back of your neck, pulling your head closer to his.

He brought his lips to yours, pressing them with an indescribable urgency. Your hands shot out to his chest, fisting the soft material of the polo you had chosen for him into a small bundle.

You gasped into the kiss, feeling a sudden breeze of cold air as the strings of your dress fell flat against your skin. Carlos' hands wandered down the surface of your back, coming to a stop at your waist.

The urge to get even closer to you coursed through Carlos' veins, pulling you flush against him. A moan fell from his swollen lips as you parted to fill the craving of some oxygen. Your pussy was pressed tight against his cock and your breasts were soft, pushed against his chest.

Carlos ventured to move his lips down the side of your jaw, edging towards your barren neck, aching to decorate you with aging and unique shades of purple and blue.

You let out a series of sinful whimpers upon the feeling of your skin being sucked at, feeding directly into his constrained cock. "Carlos..." You moaned out, eyes shut in pure pleasure, "They'll know. The–They'll ask q-questions."

"I know." You shivered as you feel him grin against your skin.

You watched him through your half-lidded eyes, moving up from your neck to look at you with his blistering gaze. With one simple movement, he took off his shirt, revealing his taut golden skin. Christ.

You sat still breathlessly on his lap as Carlos peeled off your dress, pulling your arms through the white material. The cool breeze trickled over your bare breasts, nipples hardening almost instantly.

Carlos let a warm hand rest over your rib, lifting you gently to remove your dress fully. He sighed, laying you down on the mattress. The tips of his fingers travelled from your neck and down the valley of your breasts, the hairs of your body standing straight at his touch.

"You know what it is a tragedy, hermosa?" Carlos queried, watching you quiver underneath him, chest heavily rising up and down.

He smiled at your asking through your eyes because the words just couldn't come out of your throat. "You will never see yourself the way I see you. Eres una sirena... obra de Dios. If He didn't put you on this Earth that would've been his biggest sin." You are a siren… God's work.

If your throat wasn't tied up before, it surely was now. You looked at him with a soft gaze, watching him come near you to press his lips on your own. You whimpered, feeling his hands travel towards your breasts, fondling your mounds with a cautious roughness that sent your stomach tingling.

You frowned at the loss of his lips but the complaint subsided upon the feel of his hot tongue swirling around your pebbled nipple. He paid attention to every flick and every crevice, keeping his deep eyes trained on you. He smiled at your hiss as he purposely grazed his teeth against your nipple.

Carlos removed his lips from your nipple, moving his head back to hover over your pussy. Still keeping his eyes on you, you watched in silence as the hot saliva fell from his lips, bubbly strings landing directly onto your glistening folds. Fucking hell.

"Eyes on me, baby," He told you, looking at your clenched eyes.

Your eyes shot open as Carlos took one long stripe of your folds, your hips bucking at the sudden sensation. Lingering a second too long on your clit, his tongue continued to work up towards your stomach and the valley of your breasts, returning his attention to your other nipple.

Your mouth fell open, feeling his fingers rub your wet folds, spreading his saliva around your pussy. While his tongue worked your nipple, he thrusted a thick finger into your walls. With your eyes rolling back, you attempted to fist the thick material of the mattress but to no avail.

"Fuckk, Carlos," You whimpered, writhing at his touch.

"Finally found your words, hmm?" Carlos teased, adding another finger into his torturous slow pace. His eyes were glued to watching your hips out of his periphery, snapping up to try and ride his fingers. As laboured breaths fell from your lips, he pushed his digits even further, aiming to reach a specific spot.

Smoothly, Carlos grabbed a nearby pillow, putting it under your lower back to bring you some comfort and a whole new level of pleasure. He stared at your face intently: your mouth had fallen wide open with a ghost whisper of his name flowing into the air, sweat glistened over your flushed face, pooling near the edges of your hair and neck, and your lips were swollen with the prettiest shade of red he had ever seen.

"Carlos," You managed to get out with your brain practically turning into jelly. "Carlos, please, I don't want to cum like this. I need your cock, please."

Carlos' cock throbbed at your pleas. "Your wish is my command, princesa."

Hearing your whines upon the loss of his fingers, Carlos took off his blue shorts faster than he had ever done in his life.

Even though you had been with Carlos sexually for a while, your cheeks still flamed when you saw his cock. Not out of embarrassment or unadulterated innocence. No. It was outright heat that was getting to you.

Every time you saw his cock, it was a violent shade of red, throbbing and aching, leaving Carlos begging to be touched by you.

You watched as Carlos leaned forward, hovering over you. It was beyond you how exactly pretty Carlos was. You hadn't realised until he started courting you. You had no idea how you were supposed to live without seeing his thicket of brown locks, his freckles that could only be depicted if you were close to him otherwise they blended with his prickly stubble, the smug smile he constantly wore to hide himself, and especially his big brown eyes that made you bend to his command.

"Carlos?" You softly called out.

Carlos' ears perked up at your gentle tone. He smiled down at you with raised brows. His hands continued to travel your body, retracing every curve and fold as he had committed to his memory. "Sí, mi hermosa?"

You ran a hand through his hair before caressing his cheek. God, he was your beautiful boy. "Je t'aime plus que tu ne peux l'imaginer." I love you more than you can imagine.

You knew he didn't speak French despite spending this many years with Charles but it often comes from you naturally when you were too caught up in your feelings.

"Je ne pense pas que ce soit le cas. You don't know how my every feeling is controlled by the look on your face. I can't breathe without you. Every race, I hope you're there waiting for me because you're pretending to wait for Charles. Hermosa, I exist for you. No one else." I don't think you do.

Your eyes widened, fresh tears lining your waterline. "You understood–you learned French?" You whispered, voice barely audible.

Carlos grinned. "I'm quite sure I said a lot of after that but yes, I did learn French for you... surprise!"

You suppressed the urge to push him off of you and gave him a long kiss. Pulling back, you laughed gently. "You're an idiot... making me cry during sex. And not even in the good way!" You feigned your complaint.

"Well, we still have tonight and thirteen more days. Today I'm just showing how much I love you," He whispered above your lips, hips lining up with yours.

You sucked in a sharp breath, feeling Carlos' cock brush past your folds. You both moaned in unison as he pushed his cock into your pussy. Your walls wrapped around his cock tightly, gripping him like a vice.

Carlos cursed several profanities under his breath, head lolling back while pleasure coursed through his body. His arms encircled your waist, pulling you up to sit on his lap. His cock ached at the high-pitched mewl that fell from your swollen lips.

His hands fell to your hips, holding you tightly, slowly shifting you up and down his length, burying his cock in you.

You closed your eyes, letting your forehead rest on Carlos'. You can feel him staring at you, taking all of you in: every hue of your flushed state, your eyelashes riddled with tears and sweat, the heavenly and sinful sounds from your lips, and your greased hair.

"You are breathtaking," Carlos whispered against you.

You smiled, opening your eyes to meet his and rolling your hips slowly in response. "You make me feel so good," You praised.

A rough moan was elicited from Carlos, throat tight and choked up from your words and actions. He could barely function seeing your bare pussy take his cock so well, let alone how the tip of his cock throbbed when he lifted you up. His own eyes were beginning to shut as he revelled in the ecstasy you brought hip.

Fuck, you were so wet. You looked down at your thighs, seeing the obscene sheen of your arousal coat spread to Carlos' thighs. You sunk your teeth into your bottom lip, hips snapping to create a rhythm.

"Carlos, I, fuck," You blabbered in complete disarray. You were beginning to seem the edges of a familiar white light.

Although Carlos appreciated the sign, he could tell by the way you were clenched so tightly around his cock, getting his cock to pulsate every few seconds, that you were going to come.

He moved his hands between your legs, watching you sink over his cock one more time before he obstructed the view by using his thumb to rub your clit in circles.

"Mierda," Carlos cussed, feeling you grip his cock even further if it was possible. "Cum for me, mi amor."

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," You repeated the expletive as if it were a mantra, hips bucking as white clouded your vision. You let out a loud moan, body shaking as waves of your climax hit you one after the other.

Not a second later, Carlos was cumming too. His hips rutted against yours in almost an unrecognisable desperation, the peak of his ecstasy right within his grasp. His cock pulsed while his hips came to a falter, stuttering as ropes of his white cum spilled into you, warming your walls.

"F-Fuck," Carlos groaned, feeling your pussy clamp around him, trying to take every last drop of his cum.

You feel Carlos slump forward into you, exhausted. Gently, you lifted yourself off of his cock, wincing at your sensitivity. You fell straight onto the mattress, panting heavily.

"Shit!" You yelped as Carlos pushed some of his leaking come back into and circle your clit. You shook at the mini aftermath of your orgasm before calming back down.

"Satisfied?" You nudged Carlos playfully, knowing damn well Carlos liked to go the extra mile when it came to you.

"Very," Carlos commented, reaching his arms out to bring you closer to him.

You sighed, resting your head on his chest. The exhaustion was very quickly seeping into the both of you. Carlos' heartbeat was beginning to work as a lullaby and Carlos had found your warmth far more comforting than any mattress or duvet.

"Hermosa," He called, making you hum for you had no energy to speak. "We need to tell them."

You found yourself trying to open your eyes. When had they closed? You turned to face him, chin resting on his heated torso. You pressed a brief kiss and said, "I know. Let's tell them in a few days. So they have at least a week to yell at me."

Carlos frowned at your words. "I'll be right there with you. You know that right? I'm not letting you do this alone."

You smiled after letting out a small yawn. "I know, I know. I'm grateful. Thank you, mi amor."

Carlos returned the gesture, kissing your forehead gently. He rubbed your shoulders, feeling the dark abyss of slumber slowly call to him. "Anything for you, hermosa."

© 𝐌𝐈𝐂𝐊𝐘𝐒𝐂𝐇𝐔𝐌𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐑

[sparkrls]

delayed proposal

MASTERLIST

Summary: in which Harry’s got a few secrets up his sleeve and Y/N just wants to know if he’s going to propose

Author’s Note: this is the blurb i was talking about with bandmates!harry x y/n. remember to like and reblog because i crave validation. love ya <3

Word Count: 1.1k

•••

“Are you going to propose soon?” Was the last question Harry expected to be uttered out of Y/N’s bright pink lips.

It was just another Sunday night, the couple trying to enjoy those last fleeting moments of weekend relaxation before Monday arrived with the usual burden and obligations of being working adults.

In little less than 12 hours, Y/N would be back to her 9-5 job being an assistant to a high-class executive of a finance company. Her boss had too much authority for being so irresponsible and more money than anyone would need in a lifetime. What a luxury it must be to have your dad pass down a company you didn’t know how to run down to you.

Her boss wasn’t a horrible person, he was quite respectful and kind when asking her to do tasks, he was just a very exploitative executive. He had learned from his father to be unbending and demanding.

Y/N’s work paid a good wage, enough for her to pay her bills and still have a bit left. She wasn’t one to buy luxuries, though, preferring to save money up so she could one day quit her 9-5. And then dedicate herself to the things she did every day after work: picked up her red electric guitar, adorned a black skirt that bordered on too short, and perform for (currently small) crowds of people who cheered her band on as they played.

There wasn’t anything Y/N loved quite as much as the rush of being on stage, the bass making the stage shake with each loud thrum, sticks clashing with plates of a drum and the velvet voice of an angel, Harry singing through the microphone and his eyes on her and her fingers moving over the fret of the guitar.

They played small clubs and rundown bars, getting payed a poor wage for the extrenous effort used to get four adults with full time jobs to align their schedules in order to rehearse. Sometimes all they got were free drinks, but they took what they could get and did it for the love of it.

That was how they got here, on Harry’s couch, his arm draped around her shoulders, and her head on his chest. They were watching Bluey, the way they did most nights they spent together. He would always roll his eyes when Y/N suggested it, pretending to hate it, but she knew it was his favorite show, and he always cried at the emotional episodes.

Their instruments lay forgotten on the table, his blue guitar next to her red one, as they’d spent most of the afternoon drinking beer and writing a new song.

It was a question that had been lingering in the back of Y/N’s mind, and she wasn’t quite sure why she chose that moment to blurt it out, but she did. “Are you going to propose soon?”

Harry’s gaze turned to her, eyebrows raised in light surprise, a small breath exhaled between his lips in a faint chuckle. “What?”

It was too late to take it back, so Y/N sat up and told him, “You’ve always talked about wanting to settle down and get married.” His features remained in small confusion. “We’ve been together for a while. Are you going to marry me?”

“Well, of course I’m going to marry you,” Harry said, like it were some scientific fact that everyone knew and was unchangeable. “You’re my forever, baby. I’ve written about a hundred songs about it.” His lips turned up in a smile. That smile he wore every time he told her he loved her, with a cocky and smug edge as if he were teasing her, laced with affection.

“I don’t mean we have to get married this instant, but I just, I guess we’ve never talked about if we were getting engaged or when and I-“

“Baby,” Harry cut off her nervous rambling, chuckling. He kissed her, soft lips with cracked edges from the cold and dry weather. “I already know what ring I’m going to buy. I’m just saving up for it.”

Y/N’s mind blanked for a moment. “You’re already thinking about rings?” Her lips parted in surprise.

Harry rolled his eyes. “Yes, silly girl. You’re not the only one thinking about marriage.” He smiled at her, reassuring her that he was just teasing. “In case you haven’t noticed yet, I’m hopelessly in love with you.”

“Oh,” Y/N said, still in shock. Here she was, getting all nervous and insecure about marriage and he had already been planning to propose. Her question now seemed a bit foolish. She looked up at him and said, “You know I don’t need some needlessly expensive ring, right? You could buy it on Aliexpress and I couldn’t care less.”

Harry looked at her with slight amusement. “Are you serious?”

“Yeah,” Y/N said with a small nod. “It’s stupid to spend money on a ring when it doesn’t make much of a difference.”

Harry sighed. “Baby, it’s not about the ring being expensive. It’s about the ring being a symbol for my devotion to you. And I want my devotion to be apparent in the beauty of it.” He tapped the finger on her left hand where the ring would lay. “No, I don’t have to spend money on an expensive ring. That’s why I’m not just getting a huge diamond. I’m getting something you’ll love.”

“But it’s expensive and it’s a waste of money on a simple ring-“

“Is it just a ring? Or is it a symbol of matrimony, of us being together forever?” Harry said gently, correcting her statement. “Not to mention you’re going to be wearing that ring every day ‘till you die.”

Y/N made a sound of contradiction. “Unless we get a divorce.”

Harry stared at her blankly for a few moments. He deadpanned, “Not funny.”

“Kinda funny,” Y/N said with a small smile.

She waited for Harry’s stern gaze to soften with adoration the way it always did. It only took a few moments for his composure to crumble and he leaned in close to her. His nose grazed against hers as he muttered quietly, “You’re going to be the death of me.”

The way he said it sounded like a declaration of love. Everything he said to her did. Because his love could never be called in to doubt. It shone through every word he uttered, every song he wrote, every thing he did.

His lips locked onto hers once again, the tension in his muscles melting away as if all he needed to feel complete was to be pressed against her. To have every inch of skin surrounding her, the taste of beer still on her tongue, and the scent of spring enveloping his senses.

“I’m going to marry you,” Harry uttered, an oath murmured against her lips before placing a hand on the back of her neck, pulling her close once again.

[ramhaiba]

𝖯𝗈𝗌𝗌𝖾𝗌𝗌𝗂𝗏𝖾 (𝖸𝖺𝗇𝖽𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝖠𝗍𝗌𝗎𝗆𝗎 𝗑 𝖱𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋)

𝒸𝒽𝒶𝓅𝓉𝑒𝓇 𝑜𝓃𝑒, 𝓇𝑒𝓋𝑒𝓃𝑔𝑒

a/n: this is a rewrite of one of my old (and incomplete...) stories! the original

chapter contains: blackmail, kita x reader (side) series contains: college au, sexual themes, violence, kidnapping, tea

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

You hated Atsumu Miya since your freshman year of high school. You don’t think you can name one good thing about him. From his annoying voice to his stuck-up personality, you hated it all. 

It wasn’t like he was your biggest fan either- you still remember his dramatic reaction when he found out you’d be going to the same college as him. 

To quote him, 

“Jesus Christ- you obsessed with me or something? Gotta follow me all the way to college too” 

You can barely believe that you used to be his friend before high school, sharing some of your best childhood memories with the former nice boy.

Now, he’s just a scumbag who likes to go out of his way to make you miserable.

But yesterday, was the last straw…

Everyone knew you had a crush on Kita…well- everyone but Kita. 

And Valentine's Day was the day you were gonna man up and finally make a move. You spent all night making chocolates for him…which turned out well- it was edible at least! 

You knew that there was a big possibility that you’d mess up on your words if you verbally tried to confess to him, that’s why you settled for a love letter. You spent hours trying to write that one-page letter. There are at least twenty crumbled-up failed attempts of you trying to write a love letter. However, you settle for the best one, keeping it safely in your pocket. 

Unfortunately, on the day of Valentine's Day- you had a class with Atsumu Miya. At least you also shared that class with a good friend of yours- Usagi. 

You loved that girl but she was one of the girls who fanned over Atsumu. She probably gave one of the hundred Valentine’s chocolates that lay on Atsumu’s desk. 

You walked over to your desk, trying to ignore Atsumu’s bragging about all the love letters he’s received. You settle the chocolates that you made for Kita on your desk, praying that they won’t melt before you give them to him.

“Holy shit what’s that?” Atsumu asked, voice annoying as always, propping his hands on your desk, and leaning over. 

“None of your business” you responded, trying to move the chocolates away from him. 

“She’s going confess to Kita!” Usagi spoke up, the chance to talk to Atsumu being too exciting for her to remain quiet. 

“Usagi!” you yelled, turning your head to look at the embarrassed girl. “S-sorry it just came out” she mumbled. 

Your attention fell back to Atsumu as you heard him laugh. 

“Oh man- I feel so bad for Kita, he’s going to have the ugliest girl on campus confess to him? Talk about social embarrassment am I right?” Atsumu teased, wiping away a tear from laughter. 

“Fuck off for once, Atsumu” you scoffed.  Atsumu paused his laughter, eyes narrowing as he looked at your pockets. “What you got in there?” he questioned. 

“Nothing that concerns you” you replied, shoving your hands into your pockets, probably crumbling the love letter. 

“Well good luck on your little confession, Y/n. You’re gonna need it” Atsumu commented, a sinister smile on his lips as he walked away. 

God- what was he planning? 

---

During lunch, you were walking to your usual table, holding your tray of food in your hand. Just in a few hours, you’ll be confessing to Kita and god you’re nervous. You keep repeating the same phrase in your head,

The worst thing that can happen is that he says no. 

The worst thing that can happen is that he says no. 

The worst thing that can happen is that he sa-

Suddenly, you felt a strong force bump into you, almost everything that was peacefully lying on your tray spilling onto your shirt, hissing in the uncomfortable feeling of your drink drenching your shirt. You looked up to see that Atsumu was the one responsible for the mess. 

“Asshole, watch where you’re going” you huffed, trying to wipe away the food on your shirt. 

“Wow, I am just so sorry, Y/n” Atsumu commented, giving you a passive-aggressive smile as he tried to help you clean off your shirt. 

“God- I hate you” you replied, slapping his hand away as you stormed away. 

Thank god, your dorm wasn’t too far away- however, you did miss your next class because of your sudden need to change your shirt and shower. 

----

The clock struck three- it was finally volleyball practice..AKA the time that you’d be confessing your feelings. You stood in front of the gymnasium, chocolates in one hand, the other reaching into your pocket for the letter

Wh-where is it? 

You panicked feeling your empty pocket. Then you heard Atsumu’s voice in the gymnasium, causing you to slowly open the door, and take a peak. 

“Kita, I’m not sure where to start with this letter. There are just so many things I feel for you. Every time I learn more about you- you just manage to make me fall deeper for you. I just get so nervous when I’m around you but excited at the same time. Is this what love is? And I really hope somewhere in your heart you- 

Jesus Christ! this is the comedic goal” Atsumu burst into laughter, holding a letter in his hand that he seemed to be reciting. You felt your heart stop, your blood going cold as you listened to all the laughter in the gym.

Everyone was laughing at you stupid- stupid letter, well...everyone but Kita.

“Who wrote the letter?” you heard Suna asked Atsumu. 

Atsumu looked around the gym, finally making eye contact with you through the gap between the door, 

“Oh, don’t worry ‘bout that, it’s ain't anyone important” Atsumu responded, a smile across his face as he crumbled the paper before throwing it into a trash can.

----

You ran- you ran all the way back to your dorm room, the tears in your eyes making it hard to see as you crashed on your bed, cursing out Atsumu through the pillow shoved in your face.

The chocolates you made for Kita were crushed and thrown out in your trash can. 

It wasn’t long til your sadness morphed into fiery unstoppable rage. 

You needed revenge- so you came up with the perfect plan.

Unlike most students on campus, Atsumu and Osamu lived in a house nearby- god they were lucky to have rich parents. 

You showed up in front of their house night- it was so late at night that the whole neighborhood was silent. In your hands was a crowbar- 

You thought to yourself, holy fuck this is crazy. But you were so fucking exhausted from all the harassment Atsumu has given to you for years. You had to do this. So you sneaked into their garage, prying it open with a crowbar. 

You knew there was only one thing that Atsumu loved almost as much as he loved himself.

That damn stupid orange car he got for his birthday. 

You remember the countless times when he would drive that expensive car around your house his deafening trashy music blasting from his car. The painful memories of the gas from his car would blow into your face and give you a nasty cough.

You shoved your hands into your pockets, taking out your silver key to your dorm room. 

You hovered your key in front of the door of his car, hands shaking.

“Fuck it” you mumbled, dragging your key across the orange vehicle, leaving a white line on the paint. 

It made your anger and sadness disappear…for a second.

You were painting his car with the scratches done by your trustworthy key for at least ten minutes, getting lost in high of your revenge. 

The sound of footsteps descending downstairs interrupted your high, causing you to dash out of the garage, slamming the door behind you, hiding behind a tree as you heard

"WHAT THE FUCK HAPPENED TO MY BABY"

Atsumu’s response causes you to laugh back home. Who cares about forgiveness? Revenge is truly the best feeling in the world. 

---

You were discussing yesterday’s event with Usagi- you told her almost everything besides… your very illegal form of revenge. 

“My beloved, Atsumu did what?” she cried in disbelief. “You mean that monster, Atsumu?” you corrected her. 

“I’m sorry that happened, are you okay?” she asked. “Oh, I am “ you replied, smiling while thinking of the event from last night. 

“Y/n.”

You turned your head, expecting Atsumu who came to annoy you…instead, it was Kita. “I’m sorry if you’re busy but may I talk to you for a moment?” Kita politely asked. You glanced back at an eager Usagi who was waving you off to shut up and go with him. 

“Y-yeah, sure” you replied to Kita. 

Kita held your hand as he led you to a more secluded part of campus, unaware that you were screaming in your head at the gesture. 

“What did you want to talk to me about?” you asked, praying to god he didn’t find out it was you to write that embarrassing letter.

“Well, I didn’t see you yesterday. So I didn’t have the opportunity to give you this” Kita responded, opening his bookbag, gently taking out a piece of chocolate wrapped in a pink transparent bag. 

I-is this what you think it is? Is this a confessio-

“Y/n, I wanted to tell you that-”Kita said, snapping you out of your flustered thoughts. 

“Oh, Y/n, I found you!” Atsumu sang, waving his hand as he ran up to you. You cringed at the feeling of Atsumu wrapping his arm around your shoulder, “Kita, I need to steal sweet Y/n for a moment. It’s important” Atsumu confessed. 

“If it’s important then I suppose it’d be selfish for me to say no” Kita responded. “Great, she will be back in a flash” Atsumu beamed, tugging you away to a different section of campus.

“What the fuck is wrong with you? Couldn’t you see I was busy” you huffed.

“There is nothing more important than spending time with me” Atsumu replied. “You’re such a narcissist” you insulted. 

“And you, sweetheart, are a car wrecker,” Atsumu remarked, stepping closer to you with every word, arms crossed to emphasize his biceps. 

“What? I don’t know what you’re talking about” You laughed in disbelief, trying to act dumb. 

“Ain’t I the luckiest man in the world to have security cameras?” Atsumu confessed, a smile on his lips as he waved his phone, a video of you committing the crime on the screen. 

Fuck-fuck- Fuck you’re so screwed. You’re going to get charged with trespassing and Destruction of property. You’re so going to get kicked out of school. 

“W-why haven’t you shown this to the police already” you stuttered, voice cracking, hands shaking at your side. 

“I wanted to give ya a better option” Atsumu hummed. “What are you trying to say” you replied. 

“You’re going to be my sweet girlfriend for a month”

“What? You’re not serious. You hate me like I hate you” you scoffed in disbelief. “Are you going to question me or be a smart girl and take what I’m offering?” Atsumu uttered, leaning over to your ear, his breath heating your neck. 

“Only for a month?” you repeated, hands forming a fist to your side, sucking up your pride. 

“Only for a month” Atsumu confirmed, pulling away to show you his smile. “Fine” you huffed. 

---

You walked back to Kita, still shaken up from what had just occurred. “Y/n, are you okay? You look worried” Kita questioned, reaching over to hold your hand in his. 

“Yeah, I’m fine. You wanted to tell me something?” you laughed away his concerns. Kita adverted his eyes, a faint red appearing on his cheeks as his lips turned into a subtle smile, 

“I just wanted to know if you had feelings for me…because I admire you. I want to be with you. If you’ll allow me to” Kita confesses, finally having the courage to look back at you. 

You couldn’t believe it, your heart was about to bounce out of your chest until you saw the demon- Atsumu Miya behind Kita, 

“Reject him. “ he mouthed.

Why couldn’t Kita confess next month? 

[minkdelovely]

love and power

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧     ✧     ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

chapter ten: part two

“i won’t die for love but ever since i met you you could have my heart and i would break it for you.”

Alastor x Fem!Reader ; MDNI 18+ ; [y/n] used sparingly ; Alias in Hell is Sylvie

tags/warnings: nothing scary to report here — welcome to your happy ending 💖

word count: 8k

author’s note: cherished ones… i can’t believe we’re finally here at the end 🥲 it’s taken me much longer than anticipated to get this out, but i hope it’s worth the wait. allow me to extend my sincere gratitude to you all for hanging in there and going on this journey with me and this series. this started out as pure self-indulgence and turned into something much more along the way and i hope this is received by you as the gift i intended it to be. they’re not off the album i used as the platform for this series, but feel free to listen to rain and take me back to eden by sleep token, which i listened to A LOT while writing this. thank you again for all of your kindness and support. i truly don’t think i could have finished this without it 💖

prelude ; chapter one ; chapter two ; chapter three ; chapter four ; chapter five ; chapter six ; chapter seven ; chapter eight ; chapter nine ; chapter ten: part one ; chapter ten: part two

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧     ✧     ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

The last couple days had been… good.

Vaggie had approached you the morning after your little sleepover with Angel to see if you’d actually take her up on the offer of managing the hotel’s books. It was a welcome distraction, easily falling back into the routine of your old work. And honestly, their records keeping system needed a complete overhaul. It kept you busy and focused, hours passing like minutes as you honed in on creating the foundations of your system.

Funny how in Hell the work you had always approached with a level of disdain in life had become something to look forward to. Something that was all yours. It was nice. Familiar.

Ironic.

You also hadn’t gone to the bar — the biggest improvement, or at least the one you were happiest about. Feeling more like yourself again and less like your father, who had been no stranger to bouts of liquored-up sulking. It was not a way you wanted to remember him by, nor make a habit of for the eons to come. And beyond just feeling better without alcohol in your system, it was great to see Husk in a more friendly capacity again. Haunting his bar in the way you did wasn’t something you were ever planning to subject either of you any time soon. 

You were regaining a level of comfortability in your room as well. Sleeping better in your bed, which had been difficult to do. For the first few days you slept on the loveseat, where you’ve now spent the last two nights curled up with a book in front of the fireplace.

It was a decent distraction, but thoughts of Alastor still plagued you. Try as you might, it was hard for them not to. He felt so present as you went about your day despite maintaining the separation; feeling his aura hovering around you like a sixth sense. You wanted to ask Husk and Niffty if they felt it like you did — if at all — but hadn’t gotten the nerve yet to do so.

What if they said no?

It was too embarrassing even to think of. The possibility of it being some kind of adverse affect from sleeping with him making your blood rush to your face. 

Maybe I took a piece of him, too… 

The heat on your cheeks intensified at the thought. Isn’t that exactly what had happened?

Sure, in a literal sense he had been the one to take a piece of you. But in return, you had witnessed him in yet another state that no one else — in this building, at least — ever had. Just the fact that he had let you help undress him… That wasn’t something you look lightly, even at the peak of your anger toward him. The nervous way your heart fluttered against your ribs at the memory only further proved the point.

You wanted the opportunity to do it again. Undress him, that is. 

What followed after wasn’t of much consequence; you’d be satisfied just the same. Whether that was helping him out of his day clothes and into pajamas or preparing him to pound you into the mattress — either result was made from the same circumstance. You found you had enjoyed it even more than dressing down his bed for the evening, which had always been a nearly meditative part of your day.

Or, well… it used to be.

Did he even bother with that now? Hell, did he ever? Or was it just more busywork? If it was… you missed it.

Taking care of Alastor was tedious at times but it hadn’t been all bad. He was petulant too, which is probably why he was always deflecting and pointing the finger in your face. But past his venom there was charm. His euphemisms and anecdotes. Grumbling into the newspaper with his ears downcast whenever he came across an unpleasant article, which happened more often than not. 

He enjoyed his coffee black and extra hot, but god forbid if it was burnt. That was one of the first things you had been tasked with perfecting, and mercifully, had been able to accomplish. Alastor never made you handle his food, not out of lack of trust but courtesy. Due to the gruesome reality of what he enjoyed eating, it wasn’t a chore he ever charged you with. And you’d busy yourself with cleaning while he ate to allow him as much privacy as possible. 

As much as he adored the structure of his morning routine, beyond that the day was his for the taking. Living the monotonous life that you had, it was admirable. Sometimes inspiring. He had a mischievous, opportunistic outlook on existence — no doubt a quality that followed him into the afterlife — while you had been (presumably) buried jaded and trepidatious.

He was… fun. Even when he was irritating. 

Before Rosie pawned you off on him, the last time you had ever felt something close to fun was killing your grandmother. A horrifying revelation, but true, though that had more to do with the satisfaction you felt from it than anything. But fun was something that was right at your fingertips with Alastor, when you looked back on the last couple weeks. He had quite the proclivity for antics when he wasn’t being crushed by the weight of his self-imposed grandeur.

The memory of when he brought you back to the alley the day after what you had done came to mind. His inspection of the bag you’d left behind had upset you so much in the moment, but now all you can remember is the glimmer in his eyes. The nearly childlike glee in his fanged smile. Sure, it had been at your expense, but that was how he liked to joke. Satire and whimsy adorned with the pretty bow of his voice and charm.

But his jokes were sometimes too one-sided. His delivery too harsh and actions… demeaning. It wasn’t a facet he aimed at you often but the sting of his cruelty ran deep, almost to the bone. Your hand came up to your throat, the pain in your neck only barely subsided. It had been impossible to tell if the chain had bruised you under all of Alastor’s love bites, but if you were being honest with yourself, there was no way it hadn’t. If even just a little.

You made due with covering yourself up. Managing to find some high-collared button up shirts left to rot in the laundry room. Nothing a good washing wasn’t able to fix. And as the days passed and the marks faded, you were able to transition back into more familiar (and revealing, in comparison) pieces of your wardrobe.

Still, being left to your own devices when Alastor had been the one responsible for not only the marks but ruining the dress that would’ve easily solved your problems with its modesty nicked at you. Not that you had expected gifts after the argument, but considering how he made you wear that dress as uniform there was no way he didn’t have plans to provide a replacement that morning. But it never came. 

Instead he had given you a threat and left you on the floor in nothing but a towel, feeling used and humiliated and alone. And yet here you were, with a book in your hand you hadn’t absorbed the last few pages of because your mind was busy remembering the feeling of removing Alastor’s coat.  

Or how disheveled and boyish he looked the morning you went into his room without permission and found him in bed. The strain in his eyes before you walked into Valentino’s arms. His drawn brows and open, kiss-swollen mouth when he made you his own on the bed right behind you. That face would haunt you for the rest of your afterlife.

But there was another face that earned the honor, too. An expression that eclipsed even your grandmother’s worst sneer. Was what you said to him that morning really so outrageous that it had warranted such wrath and disdain? Alastor had been in quite a decent mood too, before the conversation took a turn. Not that it made you feel any better, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that it was something bigger than that. You had copped attitude before and Alastor had either laughed it off as a mild tantrum or course-corrected you before you even had a chance to realize it.

Beyond that, there were also the things he had done after you fell asleep, face buried in his scarred chest. The medicine he had waiting at the ready for when you inevitably woke up from the ache of his bite, which he had taken the liberty of cleaning and bandaging. He had more than likely done it by hand as well, the same as when he tended to it on your bed that awful morning. No magic, no minions. Despite being the least he could do since he inflicted the wound, that didn’t mean he had to do it himself. But he did.

Your stomach turned thinking about it. The force of his anger just didn’t match up with the efforts he took in caring for you after your entanglement. It was the push and pull you had been battling all week, and your eyes flitted to the door. Going up to his room wasn’t something you had entertained, knowing better than to try and call Alastor’s bluff, but the desire to speak with him now was a temptation you worried you’d lose the battle against. 

Knock.

The single, hollow sound echoing off the door sent a jolt through your body, sitting up from your relaxed position on the small sofa near the fireplace. It was Friday, wasn’t it? Meaning everyone had left the hotel already except for you and…

There’s no way.

Your pulse spiked. 

Maybe you just imagined it. Or the hotel was settling. Things like that could still happen to buildings in the afterlife, right? Ghosts and hauntings and creaks and groans seemed fairly on-brand for Hell. Alastor’s shadow — that you had found yourself missing as well — was proof of that all on its own. 

It was that final thought that brought you to the door, hand hovering over the knob as your breath thinned; perspiration beading your skin like morning dew. Tormented by the prospect that opening it would either reveal him or nothing at all.

Unsure of which you were hoping for as you let your forehead fall forward, a huff of air passing your lips. Eyes closed as you relaxed into the cool lacquer of the wooden door, reaching out. Alastor felt especially close now. Typical that he would show up now that you were not only beginning to feel better, but also reaching the end of your rope in your banishment from him. If you weren’t too busy fighting the whiplash of frustration and want coursing through you, you would have laughed. 

Even reconciliation had to be on his schedule…

If he was actually on the other side of the door wanting to make up, of course. This could all be your imagination, which would be particularly cruel on your mind’s part considering how just moments ago you were feeling so desperate to see him, if only just to talk. You sighed, condensation from your warm breath pilling under your mouth hovering near the door.

Was he really there?

Your hand gripped the handle in response, heart heavy and loud in your chest as you turned it and pulled. There was only one way to know for sure.

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

Alastor took you in as you opened the door. An apprehensive expression on your face, but with an underlying relief. Though he didn’t need eyesight for the confirmation. Your heartbeat and scent told him all he needed to know with an honesty that betrayed you for his benefit. It was rather unfair, wasn’t it?

The life coming back to your eyes did not go unnoticed, either.

He felt what was left of his vitriol drain out of him, and in a rare moment of self-deprecation he found himself hoping his unpolished state would put you at ease. Despite the lingering tension that was still eating away at him, he truly did wish to avoid an argument. Shouting matches were simply… nasty. In a way he did not much, if at all, enjoy. 

Conversation is called an art for a reason.

A true favorite of his and it was much more his speed. With such an adaptable form you could be fencing one minute and duetting the next. Unless, of course, the conversation was bad, which was a fate worse than death. But that hadn’t been a problem with you, for the most part. He’d like that to be the case now as he prepared to linger for as long as it took to reach some kind of resolution. 

Things couldn’t stay the way they were. He knew you’d both return to yourselves eventually, but you had gotten a head start on him. Leaving him to grasp at what was on the other side of this only in regard to himself. If ever he needed you, you’d be just a summoning away. Tied to him always by your contract. Something that typically provided a sense of security to the point of aloofness. But the uncertainty of how you would approach your days independent of him in the aftermath made him falter. Made evident by the color that had returned to your face, that spark of ferocity in your eyes. 

Deep down he understood that you would carry on. 

Tied to him, yes, but not entangled. There was an unpleasant tightness in his chest at the thought, his jaw flexing with irritation. He wasn’t through exploring this, relishing the fire he felt in his blood at seeing you again up close, lungs taking in your scent to feed the flame. Your racing heart a sonnet so sweet in a way that only he could truly appreciate. Feeding a part of him that either had not existed or had been lying dormant which, now awakened, was eager for more and he found himself wondering when it ever would be satiated.

More of your voice ringing in his ears, whether it was coated in insolence or lust… or laughter. More of your scent in his lungs, oxygenating his blood with the bliss of childhood summers. More of your taste on his tongue. Blood, sweat, tears. He’d take it all, or whichever morsels you were still willing to give him. Even if all that left him with was cordiality, it would be far better than letting you slip through his fingers. How wasted you would be on some tramp off the street. Not even taking into account that the average soul couldn’t appreciate your scent, attributes like responsibility and integrity weren’t typically admired here in the pit.

Who else could see you the way he did? 

Past the pout of your lips to the lethal fangs hiding behind them; that sleeping anger you managed to keep at bay but weren’t afraid to use if necessary. Would you ever reveal that ferocity and glowing eyes to someone else in the ways he had witnessed them — induced by tapping into some of your baser instincts? It made stomach twist just to think it. 

Alastor’s imagination began to run away from him then. Flashes of you making some other sinner’s bed, fetching their coffee, and picking up clothes. Drawing a bath, hanging their coat, laughing at their jokes. That now-dear sulk of yours aimed at the faceless menace when one of those jokes went too far. Phantom hands stripping you of clothes, cupping your face, roaming your body… holding your chin. And though his urges were few and far between, worse still was the thought of you crying out a stranger’s name like a reverent prayer, writhing underneath them as you fell apart.

Foul.

Bile scorched his throat as he fought to maintain his composure in your doorway. The filthy handprints he had just pictured all over you gone in the blink of an eye as his own hand twitched behind his back, eager to hold you once more and feel the heat of your skin soak into his palm. Easy as it would be to reach out and satisfy the urge he refrained from doing so, smothering his desire in his fist. Now wasn’t the right time to succumb to impulse. 

As much as Alastor wanted to pull you into his embrace he knew there was still a hatchet to bury. You had touched quite the nerve that morning, after all, and his actions had been less than genteel as a result. As justified as he had felt at the time, it settled in now as something he was less than proud of. Warranted… What a fool he was to think so. Though misguided, all you had done was try to make sense of things. You would be well within your rights to sever any further personal ties with him, and he swallowed against the anxious lump in his throat.

He had spent so much time wallowing in liquor, wasted countless hours justifying his anger toward you to ease his own unrest. Even if you had picked the fight… hadn’t he brought you right to the edge of it with his antics over the past weeks? In truth, hadn’t making you lose your composure been his goal from the start? He had certainly got what he wanted, just not in a way that was originally intended; culminating in a misunderstanding that threatened to keep parts of yourself locked away from him for, quite possibly, eternity.

Desiring someone’s comfort the way he did yours was something he never expected to have to face, let alone something he ever feared to lose. Alastor wondered for the first time how things between you would be had you met sooner. Granted, you had only been in Hell for two-or-so months, but he was a different man now than he was even then. The Alastor of two months ago still had his microphone, for starters. His sword and shield. Now nothing but another one of his corpses left to decay in the bayou.

That man hadn’t had his confidence shaken, his power drained. Alastor had felt so invigorated when he retreated to the radio tower to mend himself after battling Adam, but the healing process hadn’t been simple. Seeing as the weapon that caused the wound was made of angelic steel, Alastor expected it would take more time than usual, but he had underestimated the reality of it. So many arduous, slow hours had passed as he used all his strength just to make minute progress in closing the gash. It took a week to finally get it to seal, the scar barely formed by the time he encountered you at Rosie’s. 

Simply put, you had weathered emotional storms that he typically had much better control of. There was a sourness in his soul that had been poisoning him from the very beginning of your relationship, which you took — more often than not — in stride. As much as he felt there was no one who fully appreciated you, Alastor believed it to be a two way street. Whether there was anyone else who could take your place — paramour, caretaker, or otherwise — was inconsequential. He simply wasn’t interested in the prospect. Hadn’t he gotten along just fine in his relative solitude before you fell to suffer your infernal fate? 

It wouldn’t be the same.

It already wasn’t, in fact, which is why his feet had brought him here when his stubbornness wouldn’t. Opening the door to him was only the first step. You could still slam it in his face, effectively shutting him out; leaving him standing alone in the hall as the Overlord who owned your soul and nothing more.

He found it to be a dreadful prospect.

“May I come in?”

Even he could hear the exhaustion in his voice, making the question heavy in air as he watched you contemplate. Nervous fingers tapping the doorframe to the same beat as his heart before you stepped off to the side to make way for him. Alastor managed to fight the instinctual twitch at the corners of his mouth. Now wasn’t the time for smiling, despite the wave of relief he felt at your accepting of his request to enter.

As long as it takes…

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

You watched as Alastor practically collapsed on your sofa, massaging his temples with a single hand as he leaned back to cross his legs. Still doing his best to maintain decorum despite how worn out he was. Discontent, you shifted on your feet, not wanting to give into the pity you felt towards him too easily. 

As much as you tried to remember your anger, there was no denying the relief you felt at being near him again. Hearing his voice. And knowing he could pick up on it only made it worse. Would it ever be anything but an uphill battle for you when it came to him? Your eyes couldn’t help but look just past him to where you had fallen to the floor, left to console yourself in your shame and grief. The memory didn’t fuel what was left of your animosity, but pricked at your sadness instead, making you feel the weight of the day.

I’m so sick of this…

Alastor’s gaze followed you as you moved to take your seat next to him, picking your book up off the cushion and placing it on the small coffee table in front of you. His eyes and hand lingered on the cover as you sat down.

“I just missed the first draft,” he said quietly, static replaced with the distant sound of remembrance. Eyes never leaving your copy of A Farewell to Arms as he continued with a small, humorless laugh. “I was eligible for the others but the only Divisions I could have been placed in were booked. Funny, isn’t it, a quota on the worthiness to die at war? But I suppose that’s a conversation for another time…”

The glimpse of his human life caught you off guard. Vulnerability wasn’t something you expected from him, especially not in the wake of your argument; the admission was given so casually you couldn’t help but soften just a bit, leaving you hungry for more of his secrets. 

He turned to you then, somehow looking even more tired than he had before. “We have our own battle to rectify, don’t we?”

You sighed and positioned your body to face him, bringing your legs up to sit criss-cross. This was shaping up to be a long night, so you decided you might as well get this out of the way. Even managing to get a piqued eyebrow out of him from the sober look that was no doubt on your face as you considered what you were about to say. 

“I wasn’t lying when I told you that I enjoyed our…,” you trailed off, looking for the right word.

Our what? 

Things had become so muddled you weren't quite sure what to call it. Sex, obviously, but… it had felt like more to you in the end. No matter how many times you reminded yourself that it wasn’t supposed to be anything other than a one night stand at best — and had spent the whole week drowning your sorrows trying not to think about the worst.

“I know you weren’t.” He said it in almost the same tone when you had admitted it in the first place, but his eyes were soft. “I enjoyed it myself, the second time. I thought that was obvious, but when you asked about the pheromones that morning… they had nothing to do with it. Not that evening. I… initiated that. Which is why I was so incensed by the implication that I was acting outside of myself.”

The confession sunk to the bottom of your stomach. You hadn’t expected him to be so forthcoming and even keeled regarding it. And while you felt relief that the pheromones weren’t at play that evening — and that he had not only enjoyed, but desired it — you didn’t miss the implication of the words he kept to himself regarding how you ended up in this mess in the first place. The more you thought about it, the more you were beginning to understand why he felt the way he did. Was that why he had returned you to your room to wake up alone, because being in his bed was too much of a reminder? Had he really regretted it that much? 

Because you didn’t.

The truth was you had been more than willing to give yourself to him that afternoon. Yes, you knew something wasn’t quite right, but you didn’t know he was fighting against Valentino’s nasty little trick. You’d never know what would’ve happened if you had denied him instead, because that’s not what happened. Would he have gone into a rage? In the state he was in, that wasn’t an impossibility. In fact, that was what you had been expecting, wasn’t it? In a way you dodged a bullet — received his affections, however intense, instead of his violence. The bruised remnants of his mark on your shoulder were a dizzying mix of both. 

Though the ferocity you received the next morning… had it been lying in wait? Using the chain on you the way he did compounded by the words he spat at you was a tough memory to forget, to the point where you wondered if you ever could. He had only punished you that way one other time, but it had been nothing compared to this. Blood burned under your cheeks as you recalled how humiliated you felt. How different would things be right now if he had just let you stay?

“Look I…,” you sighed and ran a hand through your hair, but resisted the urge to look away from him. “I really do understand why you’re unhappy with how things happened that afternoon but…”

Here goes nothing.

“It’s something I’ve been aware of in myself for a little while but… you don’t know how much it meant to me, being touched that way by you and how you let me touch you back it —” You wiped a tear you couldn’t stop from falling and cleared your throat, but the thick, choking feeling didn’t subside. The pinched look on Alastor’s face nearly sent you over the edge, but you couldn’t stop now that you’ve started. He needed to hear this as much as you needed to say it. “It made me really happy, if that’s even the right word for it.”

It wasn’t. But you didn’t know how else you could try to tell him how wanted and safe you felt underneath him. That no one had ever managed to turn your blood to kerosene; every bit of him the match, the bed behind you kindling. At this point it didn’t really matter that you hadn’t known him for very long. You cared about him, much more than you ever expected to, and you wanted to be near him in whatever capacity you could be. Whether that made you his errand girl or concubine, so long as you were spared from the more acidic side of his temper.

“And when I think about how much you regret it, it kills me, even though I know why you do. But… I don’t. You didn’t take advantage of me, if that’s something you’ve been worrying about. Honestly, now I can’t help but wonder if it’s the other way around…”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” he huffed, lightly exasperated as he pinched the bridge of his nose. “You’ve only ever gone along with my impulses and games. My behavior in this has been… unbecoming. I fear my mother would be quite ashamed, and rightfully so, but you’ve come to know me at a low point.”

Everything about him felt wrung out and far off, from his posture to the defeat in his unfiltered voice. It had been absent from the moment he asked to come inside, but for some reason was only hitting you now. Though you couldn’t fight the ache in your heart from the poor state of him, there was still more you needed to know before you could let yourself give in. No matter what subconscious queues your body was undoubtedly feeding him in the meantime.

“You say unbecoming…,” you began tentatively, worried that what you were about to ask could possibly upset him again. “Is that because of how you punished me that morning, or the toying you’ve subjected me to?”

If you had to choose, you really hoped that he’d feel apologetic for the chain. While they could be annoying, his games and tricks were mostly harmless. You had admitted to yourself not too long ago that you were even beginning to miss them. That was not a feeling you extended to the invisible leash that bound you to him, not the way it had been used then, at least.

Alastor removed the hand from his nose to meet your eyes, the speed of his movement catching you off guard. For the first time all night his eyes were clear and earnest; that steadfast, hypnotizing red you had come to seek and cherish.

“Would you accept it if I said both? By pushing you I think I may have set us up for the argument. I won’t say that what you said that morning didn’t upset me, since it did, but… Perhaps if I had given you less reason to think I was playing at another game it would have never happened in the first place.” 

His voice was soft as he held his left hand out to you, a different charge in the air as your eyes broke contact to flicker down to his open palm.

The olive branch.

There was no doubt he could hear the way your heart had picked up, nearly choking you with its fervor as you swallowed against it… and gave him your hand. 

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

“I was so humiliated that morning… I’ve been so mad at you.”

Alastor could hear the tears threatening to spill behind the statement, and he squeezed your hand before his thumb began to rub in soothing circles as you looked away from him for the first time that night. He took a quick moment to follow your line of sight and grimaced when he realized you were looking at the spot where he had treated you so harshly. There was nothing he could do to take back what he did. Regret was such an awful weight, reminding him of long nights trudging through the swamp to discard one of his victims. His mouth soured. It would seem he’d need to add your name to the list.

Things were never meant to end up this way. This… tangled.

He dared to lean forward, not that there was much distance to close on your quaint loveseat, and cupped your face with his other hand to draw your gaze back to his. The conflict in your eyes went right to his stomach with a kick — the chance that you would turn him away forever still there, but he was thankful you hadn’t rejected his touch. He really couldn’t have suffered through the empty ache in his hands for even another minute; the heat of your skin already refilling his cup.

And despite how much he wanted anything but, he knew he had to give you an out. It was only right.

“I was a brute… I can’t undo what’s been done but if you’d like me to leave you alone, I will. I’m not keen on releasing you from our contract, but I would let you leave this hotel if you wish.” The words scorched his tongue, but they were true. He would let you go if that’s what you really wanted. You deserved that chance. “It’s safer here, but I would know immediately if you faced any trouble. Well… any trouble you couldn’t handle yourself, that is. I know how capable you are.”

Alastor gave you a small smile, the first time his lips had curled up with any sincerity for days. It was the most generous offer he had ever given a soul under his heel, and your short, dry laugh in response was music to his ears. There was no bitterness in the sound, nor was there any coming from your scent, but that wasn’t an indication of what was going on in your mind. Something the Overlord needed to remind himself of more often. He took a moment to really breathe you in then, floral notes of almond warming him on the inside as your body warmed him from out. Would it be the last time he was ever surrounded by you like this? 

He didn’t know when his thumb began to absently stroke your cheek, but he loved the flush it brought to your face as you considered his words. A hint of iron gave the sweetness in the air just enough bite to make him swallow, his throat now parched and wanting. It took all he had not to close the remaining space between you, needing your answer before he would move an inch save the part of him caressing your face.

A jolt ran through him as your eyes locked onto his with a resolve that made his hair stand on edge, and he steeled himself as your lips parted to speak. Never could he have imagined that you would join the short list of people to hold his fate in their palm. And fewer still, one that he didn’t hold resentment toward having that power. There was security in your hold, not malice. Such a rare thing to stumble across even in life, let alone in this sulfurous chasm that had been home for the last near-century. As unworthy as he felt to receive it, the thought of losing it was even worse. He wasn’t in love… but it wasn’t impossible that he could be, with more time. 

If you would give it to him.

“I don’t want to leave the hotel,” you said quietly, and brought your free hand up to hold his chin in the same way he had held yours countless times. 

Alastor felt his ears lower despite how attuned they were to hear what you would say next, though the thumping in his chest didn’t help. To reach out and touch him of your own accord this way was bold, and he tried not to hone in on the bashfulness he felt burning his face. Why choose shame when he could have comfort? That was what he wanted, after all. A reprieve from The Radio Demon. There was nothing to be gained in postering, not with you. With you he could be… anything. And no matter your decision, he vowed to provide you with the same space. 

His schemes to mold you into something you weren’t fled him with every exhale of his lungs. It was a senseless desire… Remorseless murders were a dime a dozen here. Thrilling as it had been to see you decapitate that wretch with your teeth, the fact that you refused to do something akin to that again merely for the sake of it like so many others was refreshing. He could appreciate only killing with purpose. That had been his modus operandi in life, after all. Murder was a tool he now used to illicit fear and respect, though most souls here were free game to him even under his mortal code. You were not, and it had taken him much too long to acknowledge it.

“And I don’t want you to leave me alone… ever again, but…”

But…

The shakiness in your voice felt like the blade of a guillotine, hovering above his neck while he agonized over when you would let the rope loose and seal his fate.

“I don’t know if I could handle that again. The chain, your anger — ” A small sob escaped you then, tearing through him like a hurricane. 

Alastor didn’t even realize he was kissing your face until the salt of your tears registered on his tongue. Every little press of his lips an oath to never make you cry like this because of him ever again. And when your hands cupped his cheeks he only had a moment to relish in his relief, sighing against your skin before you captured his lips with yours. A familiar green glow enveloping you both as an unspoken agreement was made.

Peace.

What a magnanimous gift to receive. 

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

Low voices pulled you out of sleep, making you aware of the cold that was beginning to sink into the front of your body. You had been so warm… so comfortable.

Safe.

More mumbling at your door as you groaned, the grievance in the sound not lost on you even in your groggy state. It wasn’t lost on Alastor either, saying something you couldn’t decipher beyond its tone of finality followed by the closing of the door.

“It’s still the middle of the night sweetheart, don’t stir.” 

You didn’t even have time to ask who was at the door before he ran a soothing hand through your hair, maneuvering himself back into place in your bed. Pressing the length of his body in close against yours as he nuzzled into your chest, humming as he found the pulse of your heart. The warm, claiming kiss he placed there sent a shiver through you, your shared embrace tightening in response. 

“What’s gotten into you? You promised you’d be good,” you mumbled, wriggling a little from the way his breath tickled your skin.

Even to yourself the warning was half-admonishing at best. But you were also just barely awake. Fingers betraying you as they lightly massaged his undercut, his contented sigh making you hide your face in his hair as if he could see the flush on your cheeks.

You’d be stronger in the morning.

Pet names and kisses like this weren’t something you were expecting to receive again so soon. It had been discussed, and you had both agreed to try and take things slow. A fresh start, of sorts. While you were used to him calling you dear, it was a term he used frequently toward other residents as well.

Sweetheart was… special.

Which he no doubt knew. Most likely saying it when he did so he could press up and relish your rapid heart like you were none the wiser.

“I know, I know,” he conceded, his words muffled by your skin. Inadvertently kissing you more due to the sheer proximity of his lips to your chest. Feeling closer to you now than he had during intimacy.

And, admittedly, cuddling in bed wasn’t exactly what you’d call taking it slow. But by the time you had finished talking — and making out on the loveseat — the two of you were so exhausted that letting him spend the night had seemed innocent enough. Like platonically sharing a bed with a friend. Though that’s not a word you would use to describe what Alastor was to you.

More than friends, not quite lovers. Beholden to each other all the same. 

“Which is why I’ll only do this… for now.”

Alastor’s words and the warning, low tone of his voice hardly registered before you felt his tongue lap at the valley between your breasts, leaving a scorching trail in its wake that made your breath hitch. The soft groan from his open mouth right over your heart only making it beat harder, pleading for more of him. His large palm splayed against your back as he pressed you against his lips to nestle and kiss and suck, as if trying to pull the frantic organ through your skin through desire alone. You gasped as the light prick of his nails between your shoulders sent a fresh shiver down your spine, ending in a warm bloom between your hips as you curled into his touch. His responding needy hum as he grazed you with his teeth making you whimper.

Stronger in the morning…

“You’re not playing fair,” you complained, but it was a pathetic attempt at a scolding. You didn’t really want him to stop. Alastor’s responding chuckle told you that he knew it, too. The sound of it making your heart ache, and you were unable to suppress the small whine from behind your closed lips as he nipped and licked at your collarbone. “I missed you so much.”

You barely managed to finish speaking when he moved up to kiss you properly, slow and sweet, hand leaving your back to cradle the crown of your head. Melting into his touch, you moaned as his tongue entered your mouth; gentle and hot, coaxing whimpers and gasps from both of you as you tangled your fingers in his hair to keep him close. 

“I missed you, too,” he said quietly, nudging your nose with his. 

Tears fell unbidden as Alastor caressed and kissed the lingering bruises from his bite, seemingly determined to make them disappear through sheer willpower. Every little touch — administered or received — was comforting in a way that you feared would leave you insatiable, but the thought that formed in your mind through the haze of affection was a reassuring one.

This was eternity.

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

“Fess up, toots.” Angel plopped down on a chair across from you, gleaming as he rested his head in his hands and leaned forward conspiratorially. “You’re havin’ all kinds of sleepovers now, huh?”

You nearly dropped the mug in your hands from the sudden question, and quickly looked around to see if anyone else had overheard. Not that the reconciliation was going to be secret — which would have been impossible to pull off anyway, considering how much the two of you had been moping around the hotel — but you had hoped to at least make it through the morning with the knowledge kept to yourselves. 

“That was you at the door last night, I’m assuming?” The nonchalance you were aiming for just enough to get a laugh from him. “What did you say to him anyway?”

“Just that I was checkin’ up on my girl — which he did not appreciate me callin’ ya, by the way — after missin’ the big night out. I hope I didn’t send him to bed too mad.” Judging by the smug look on Angel’s face, he knew that Alastor definitely had returned to bed at least a little ruffled. “Buuut after I heard ya wakin’ up I figured I’d save the teasin’ for another day.”

“And you started bright and early,” you quipped, unable to help the smile tugging at your lips as you went back to preparing the breakfast tray. 

“Well ya ain’t exactly bein’ subtle, what with the two mugs and all,” Angel taunted, jerking his head in the tray’s direction, “but jokes aside… I’m glad you were able to patch things up with Smiles. Who woulda thought all it’d take was an empty hotel, huh?” He gave you a wink and you narrowed your eyes at the suggestion, but he cut you off before you could even begin to ask the question forming in your mind. “Look, I gotta run, but I’m expectin’ a full report when I get back from work, capisce? Oh! Speakin’a which — guess who’s supposed to be on set tomorrow?”

It was your turn to laugh. “It’s about time that lazy bitch went back to work. Making the rest of you pick up the slack is just rude.”

You both snickered as you added the finishing touches on the tray, rounding out the coffee with some croissants and fruit. It definitely paid to be in the Princess’ circle; grapes in particular were very hard to come by. There wasn’t much time to relish in your mirth with Angel before you felt a cool, slinking tendril climb up your leg. Alastor’s shadow soon emerging over your shoulder to glare at your friend and whine in your ear.

Angel put all four of his hands up in mock defeat and pushed away from the table. “Duty calls, I get it,” he chuckled and gave you a knowing look, popping a grape from the tray into his mouth before making his way out of the kitchen. “Make sure the boss man knows ya got plans for tonight, yeah?”

“Yeah,” you called after him, glancing behind you as the shadow growled at the spot where Angel Dust had been. Its face reverted back to sullenness when you pursed your lips, admonishing him with only a look. Any lingering irritation dissolved as it tugged at your sleeve, urging you back upstairs, and you conceded with a sigh. “You wouldn’t even be here to come get me if it wasn’t for Angel, you know. I expect you to be nicer next time.”

The shadow nodded its head and pulled on you again, its phantom grin quickly returning when you picked up the tray and began to walk back to the elevators. Baseless hostility toward Angel aside, it was hard not to smile as you watched it flitter across the floor; pausing every few feet to materialize and look back, ensuring you were right behind it. If your theories about this creature were right, it was merely acting as an extension of the demon you were making your way back to, and he was apparently quite eager for your return. A warm rush of pride left your body tingling at the thought.

Then again… it wouldn’t do well for the two of you to be late to your sudden appointment with Rosie. Who, according to Alastor, was very anxious to see you both and had something special planned that he had nothing to do with.

Yeah, right… 

When you entered your room, you found Alastor at the loveseat still lounging in his pajamas and you scoffed, “That was a lot of urgency from someone who hasn’t gotten dressed yet.”

“Well, I had to do something. Our mutual friend was getting you off-track. I thought we took the same pleasure in this morning routine of ours, but perhaps I’m mistaken?” Alastor’s tone was light, his smile teasing as he watched the blush burn your face.

You cleared your throat as you took a seat next to him after setting down the tray and decided to change the subject. What point was there in admitting what he already knew?

“Rumor has it that Donny’s finally scheduled back to work tomorrow,” you said conversationally, helping yourself to some of the fruit.

Alastor’s eyebrows shot up in surprise before his face lit up in a hearty laugh; the ebullient sound of it making the mark he had left over your heart radiate with fondness. His face sharpened with that menacing, debonair grin as he looked down at you while you poured his coffee.

“Took him long enough to pull himself together, didn’t it? You did do quite a number on him, darling.”

You hummed, pleased with the proud look he gave you, and passed him the mug; a shock running through you as your fingers touched. Silly, considering how you had been pressed together all evening… not to mention all the other marks he left that matched the one currently throbbing between your breasts. 

Even in life, you never could have imagined something like this. Sitting in the parlor with a suitor, giggling over coffee and breakfast after an evening of whispering sweet nothings between kisses. It would be foolish to think a peace like this could last forever, but this was the afterlife. Wasn’t peace the absolution from mortality and its fickleness? As you watched Alastor sip his coffee, his free hand absently massaging the back of your neck as he hummed along to the radio, you couldn’t help but think so. 

Peace, friendship, sanctuary, love, and power.

Hell wasn’t what you had expected it to be. It was home.

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧     ✧     ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

ps: a special shoutout to my darlings @hazelfoureyes and @sugoi-writes for giving me their shoulders to lean on while i worked on this final chapter. you both have listened to me ramble off ideas and scenarios and have supported me with such patience and grace… i don’t know how i’ll ever repay you but i will never stop trying!

pps: i do have plans for an epilogue, but don’t have a timeline on it just yet… stay tuned 😌💖

tag list: @fairyv-ice, @wat4r, @midorichoco, @raynerrold, @krak-jj, @tremendoushearttaco, @redfoxwritesstuff, @chibistar45, @kaylopolis, @cutiebimbo, @lousypotatoes, @rfox1998, @cosmiccandydreamer, @stardustandbrimstone, @cherry-cola-100, @wonderlandangelsposts , @catticora, @velvette3, @sailorsmouth, @alastorthirsty, @reath-solia, @junieshohoho, @cxrsedwxrlds, @fraugwinska, @littlebluefishtail, @nxcxllxsevens, @swagkittybear

[thekeeperof-thefandoms]

Hi, could i request Alastor x reader where one of them does something nice/gives something to the other not realizing that in their culture it's equivalent of courting/proposing? And since the other is in love with them, they don't mention the connotations and it takes someone else to point it out for them to realize? :)

Going to be honest, I wasn't sure how to write this one, since I'm white and to my knowledge Alastor's a Creole man from 1930s, so I wasn't sure what from either of those cultures could be mistaken for a proposal. After doing some research I'm going to tweak this ask a bit, simply because I am not entirely comfortable representing other cultures that I am not a part of and only have a few hours worth of google research knowledge of. I'm sorry if that's not what you wanted. If you or anyone has more specific traditions to use as examples, I'd be happy to try and expand on the idea.

(Or reinterpret this as like, flower language, gift giving symbolism by pagan standards, or crow language. Which not gonna liez my ADHD ass really wants to write a crow sinner giving them weird random stuff they find that they think the others would like.)

Anyway, I'm going to do things you'd do for each other that make you both wanna get married. Hope that's ok!

Alastor

It's not so much a single thing you do, but more like there is a single moment where he realizes he wants to marry you. And to be clear, his idea of marriage is going to be based off of what he grew up with and his own personal level of comfort with romance and intimacy (remember folks, aromantics have a spectrum as well and can get married and have perfectly happy, functional, healthy relationships and marriages).

It's probably not even a big grand gesture or anything. It's more likely something domestic and really sweet. Like it's post the finale fight with Adam, and he already knows he's getting attached because he let you help him get patched up. He lets you in his room, his space, and being touched by you is as easy and comfortable as it is with Rosie and Niffty, who have pretty much a free pass whenever.

Yet you're still always so respectful of his boundaries, of giving him subtle ways to avoid or redirect your touch if he's not feeling up to it. You never push, chosing to take what levels of affection he's willing to express but always letting him know you love him, and this last small thing is the thing that makes it click in his brain.

You bring him his coat, newly patched, cleaned of any trace of blood. The stitching is a little sloppy, crooked, and the fabric isn't lined up as well as it used to be, but you tried. He can see the effort and knows you spent hours holed up in your room after patching him up.

"I know it's not perfect, but it'll hold until you feel well enough to visit your tailor again." You say timidly, as if you expected rejection or critique. And while criticism wouldn't be unwarranted, he's just too emotional to say anything. His smile is gentle, a little wobbly, and he reaches out and brushes the coat aside to grab hold of you and pull you into a hug.

You're just so sweet and considerate, you understand him. He's not going to change, he doesn't want redemption, he thrives off the bloodshed and chaos of hell, but at the same time he's still just a man. And he wants you to be by his side for eternity, if he you want that too. He's never thought of marriage before but now...now he can't stop. He wants to have that with you. Domestic life, something to come home to.

He won't say anything right away, he wants his proposal to be perfect. He's going to have Rosie help him plan this every step of the way, but regardless, one day, you will be his partner.

As for what your moment with Alastor is, I think it entirely depends on what you value most in a partner. However, a general consensus I've seen in most of the fanfics and tumblr posts is the idea of Alastor showing us a softer side.

Not just showing us that he's more than a serial killer and cannibal with his own sense of morality. More than just feeling comfortable enough to let us initiate touch, hut genuinely letting us see past the Radio Demon persona.

Maybe it's by cooking for us and talking about how he learned the recipe from his Mama, which leads into him slowly opening up about her, how much he adored her. What she meant to him.

Maybe it's him and you at the bar in the hotel or in his room, sipping drinks, his jacket off, sleeves rolles up. Letting himself be casual and in a compromised state around you. Maybe he'll even take your hand and spin you across the dance floor like he used to with Mimzy. He doesn't even care if you're not that good, he can teach you, practice makes perfect, he just has fun with you.

Maybe it's a moment where he let's you touch him. Or seeks you out for help because he knows you won't say anything. Or if he humors you and flirts back when you tease him. Or let's say he has a tail and he doesn't snap your head off for accidentally touching it as you go by. Or he agrees to watch a movie with you or listen to a podcast despite how he feels about technology.

Maybe it's just a quiet night, sitting next to each other, each reading a book, his radio playing softly for background noise, and you look up to him to ask a question or say something and he's already watching you, a small, adoring smile on his face.

Take your pick of which one is the moment where your heart stops, your breath catches, and you realize that you wanna marry this man.

And then your delulu ass wakes up, lol.

Decide for yourself if you'd go through with a proposal or if you just accept how things are.

[tiny-pretty-sana]

taste of love | chaeyoung x reader

[request] paring: chaeyoung x reader genre: fluff and smut warnings: nsfw (+18), minors dni and not proofread tags: established relationship, top!chaeyoung, soft dom (kinda?), smutty intimacy, not plot just vibes w/c: 4.3k a/n: first time writing idol x reader and second time writing smut!! i love trying new things and i hope it's not too awkward. i also hope the lovely @nr1chaedickrider enjoys it and that the wait was worth it

It’s Friday night. You should be having dinner with your girlfriend at one of those small restaurants with cute decorations and dimmed lights that would become crowded and popular as soon as someone posted about them in social media, but for now are unknown and hidden enough for her to love them. She’s always been the best at finding these secret spots for your dates, like the one you were supposed to be having right now. You have actually been looking forward to it all week, but you had to cancel your plans after you left your boss's office this morning.

It doesn't matter that you've been working late all week on your assigned projects to get everything up to date because your boss needs a detailed presentation of last month’s sales first thing Monday morning. It doesn't matter how much work you've managed to get done ahead of schedule because you're young and that's the way things work. You're here to do your boss's job, be his secretary to then do your actual job . 

When you finally leave the building you see the dark sky and city lights, which means you’re leaving later than usual. You hadn't noticed, but your shoulders, back and neck are tense after the extra hours you've spent in front of the computer ignoring the stress, irritation and hunger you felt. But it's all done, you remember and try to forget about work until Monday.

You sigh and reach into your bag for your phone to call her. Before you can hear the second tone she picks it up but you don’t even give que time to answer. 

“Hey Chae I’m so sorry…” you start apologizing but she cuts you off and you hear her chuckle softly. 

"Baby stop, you've already apologized. I've already told you I'm not upset, I'm just worried because you're overworking yourself and I know you well enough to know that when  you do, you don’t eat properly, among other things. We can have dinner out tomorrow, now just come home, y/n." she says with that gentle tone that she uses when she knows you need some comfort even if her intention was to scold you for your unhealthy working habits. 

“Let me make it up for you. I’ll bring your favorite from that place you like near my work” you offer. 

"Don't worry about it, I've already made dinner. You've had a hard day, so let me take care of you. Come home safely, I'm waiting for you, okay?"  

You do as she says, but you can't help but make a quick stop by the convenience store to buy some strawberries after seeing that the flower shop had already closed. She says she's not upset with you, but you know that she was just as eager as you were to have your special night out.

On your way home, after hearing your girlfriend’s calming voice and knowing she is home waiting for you, you start feeling much better, still the tiredness and the tension of your muscles remains. 

There are some free seats in the subway but right now the last thing you want is going back to a sitting position, choosing to stand near the gates to jump off as soon as the train gets to your spot. The last thing you want to do is to delay even for a few seconds the moment you get home to her. You count the minutes left, the remaining stops and how many songs away you are from her. They are the same as always but at this particular moment it feels as if time is not passing as fast as you need to, making you get to your apartment building so fast you make it to the elevator almost breathless.

When you open the door, the first thing you notice is the strawberry scent from the candle you got her and then you see Chaeyoung. She’s there waiting for you with the biggest smile and her arms ready to wrap you. You stand in front of her and kiss the beauty mark under her lip before locking your mouths in a gentle kiss. After so long it has become a ritual like crossing your face when you get in church. It doesn’t feel like you’re home until you feel her lips against yours. 

Her arms are wrapped around your waist when she whispers “Are you okay?” against your skin before pulling away to look at you while she cups your face with one hand. 

“I’m good now” you say looking into those big dark eyes with sparks on them that resemble stars. “Just tired”. 

The next thing you notice when you come back to your senses after the long awaited kiss is the delicious smell of food cooked by your girlfriend, the table already set, candles everywhere and the ceiling lamp covered with a scarf. The dim light and the reddish shade give a touch of intimacy like those places you like to go to. Seeing how she has made the effort to set this while you were worried that you might have upset her by canceling your date makes you feel really lucky and full of love. From the corner of your eye you can see her smiling brightly. 

As expected, the dinner was delicious yet simple. Chaeyoung is not the most skilled cook but she makes the best dressings and sauces. Like any other night you tell each other about your day and make some plans for the weekend while you both eat the grilled salmon and the salad she has made, but being as hungry as you are you let her do most of the talking. Still you tell her about the awful day you had at work. She knows there is not much she can do besides support you and offer words of encouragement, but she makes sure to let you know so you don't forget that you can always count on her even when she doesn't quite understand what your job is all about sometimes. Sometimes even you don't quite know what you're doing.

After talking for a while with empty plates in front of you and a half-full glass of wine in your hand, it's time to clean up and you offer to wash the dishes. 

“Don’t worry about the dishes, you’ve done more than enough when I should’ve been the one making it up for our canceled date” you sigh, still somewhat disappointed. “Go take a shower”.

“Join me when you’re done” she winks at you teasingly. 

You have probably never cleaned the dishes this fast. 

Intending to join Chaeyoung in the shower, you slip in wearing just your underwear, but just as you did when you entered the house, you find the bathroom with the dim lighting of candles scattered around the place. The room is filled with the faint fragrance of jasmines, subtle, but it is enough to notice its comforting sweetness. An the bathtub has a layer of bubbles covering the surface of the water

She is on her knees at the foot of the tub lighting the last few pairs of candles wearing just her pants and her bra leaving her back tattoo on full display for you to admire. Being too focused with the candles she doesn’t realize you are there until you decide to make your presence known. 

“I should’ve known you’re up to something” you say, unable to hide your smile. 

Chaeyoung then turns around looking at you with those hooded eyes she gets when she drinks, they are not as sparkly as usual but the dozen flames that bathe the wall tiles are reflected in her eyes. Her eyes are the color of rich espresso, with a deep and captivating gaze that draws you in. You lock eyes with hers and it does not take you two much longer to get rid of the remaining clothes and get into the bathtub.

The water is hot and welcoming just like her embrace, she wraps your arms around you when you take the spot between her legs, resting your back against her front. And as soon as you rest your head on her shoulder you can feel the remnants of tension left in your body vanish as you let yourself be taken over by indulging in the delight of the senses. Chaeyoung's soft touch under the water, her velvety voice caressing your ear, the floral aroma is accompanied by the scent of strawberries, the remains of wine dancing in your tongue and the dim light of the candles bathing your skin. 

As her hands are too busy wandering around your body, you take care of feeding her and bring the glass of wine to her lips. In between you can't miss the opportunity to steal a kiss or two. 

The first few kisses are playful pecks you give her as you replace the strawberries with your own lips. Soon those stolen kisses are not enough for her and they gradually escalate into slow, sensual kisses that leave you both breathless. You lazily make out, exploring each other’s mouths like it is the first time, with the same tenderness, but with the confidence of someone who has done this a thousand times before. Now you know each other like the back of your hands. You know the pace that makes her go insane and she knows when is the right time to slide her tongue in your mouth to make you go dizzy.  

The taste of wine and strawberries makes you uncertain of where your mouth ends and hers begins until you follow her movements pushing your tongue between her lips and among the sweet and sour mixture you recognize a hint of Chaeyoung. It's something you cannot explain and you don't even know if it makes sense, but in the same way that she has her own distinct scent that you can distinguish beneath the perfume you are also able to recognize something that is inherently hers when you kiss, no matter if she has chewed gum, eaten chocolate or drank soju before. Not even when she uses a mint candy to mask the rare taste of cigarettes when she's stressed. It is that taste along with the gentle feeling of her tongue caressing the roof of your mouth that is making you feel more lightheaded than the actual alcohol you have been drinking since dinner. she just has this power over you. 

Kisses do not stop. You turn your body slightly to have better access to not just her mouth but her as a whole and tangle your hands in her hair in an attempt of pulling her impossibly closer when there aren't even clothes getting in the way between her smooth, tattooed skin and yours. It is at this moment when you become aware of a different wetness than the water between your legs, is the same wetness you’re also feeling against your ass, letting you know that your kisses have the same effect on Chae as hers do on you. Your move is followed by a soft moan as a result of the pressure you made against her center.

That sweet sound is accompanied by other sounds coming out of both her mouth and yours mixing with the sound of sloppy kisses that are getting deeper and more passionate. Her kisses are becoming hungrier every time and those same hands that once caressed you gently are now griping you with possession. Feeling her sinking her fingers in your skin feels as familiar as the sensation pooling in your lower stomach, like a prelude of what is to come. 

Her left hand moves up to your chest making you gasp against her lips at the sudden feeling of her cupping your breast. Your body reacts to the touch immediately as your nipples stiffen under her teasing thumb and your back slightly arches giving you a glimpse of her wetness one more time making her breath hitches and the kissing stops. 

Your mouths are no longer devouring each other’s but she keeps hers busy by tracing her tongue over your neck to end up nibbling your earlobe before you feel her slightly unsteady breathing just millimeters away from your ear.

“Stop doing that, this is about you” she tells you off. 

Chaeyoung’s warning gets followed by caresses that go up and down your thighs until she gets to your inner thigh squeezing it firmly and forcing you to keep your legs spread for her just for the sake of having you at her mercy since she has no intention of giving you what you crave yet. She wants you to know who is in control now, wants you to know she is going to take care of you and give you what you need. She is in charge and you are completely at her mercy.

It is not something unfamiliar. You both always enjoy a little power game, but that is not what you need now and she knows it. This control doesn’t come from a want of overpowering you but from devotion, she’s willing to take all the weight from your shoulder so you can let yourself go to allow the pleasure to take over you. She is here to provide not to take, you know it and that thought alone makes you feel dizzy and hot. 

Her hands are all over you, left hand wandering around your upper body while the other stays still in your thigh going up and down at a maddening peace. She cups your breasts and teases your nipples. At first she ghosts around them with her fingertips drawing figures on your skin, but as they get hard it gets too appealing not to go further by trapping them between her two fingers pinching them just enough to make your whines hit her ears. Throughout all this, her lips have not stopped placing wet kisses on your neck along with some biting and sucking in all the right spots. 

This is all it takes for her to have you all worked up and desperate for the touch you crave. You are pretty much aware of her touch as your own hands are top of her even when she is the one guiding the movements. You feel how she runs hers everywhere but between your legs where your neglected cunt starts pulsating in need.  

“Please Chae…” you start pleading but it gets caught in your throat as she moves up her hand to run a finger between your folds. 

“I know baby, I can feel it. You’re so wet and ready for me” she cooes without a hint of teasing in her voice, she is enjoying this as much as you. 

Her finger travels up and down between your folds, despite being underwater it moves with ease due to the slickness that has been dripping from your center since the kisses started to escalate. The hand you once had on top of the one she now has between your legs, is tangled in her hair guiding her mouth against yours to capture her lips in a hungry kiss. Those kisses are not enough to silence your moans once her ministrations reach your clit making circles that get progressively smaller tightening the knot that is forming in your lower stomach. 

She switches up the pace and her motions, taking you to the limit but not in a hurry, you are not in the mood for something quick. Today soft and slow is what you both want. It is intimate and passionate like whispering I love you between heated kisses. 

For a moment your mouths part and she pauses to admire the mess she is turning you into. You feel the warmth of your cheeks and the reddish hue tinting Chae's. You probably look like that too, with your hair sticking to your forehead more from sweat than water, with a blush on your cheeks that extends to your ears and your lips looking wet and puffy. 

The break lasts a few seconds, just long enough to remind you that there is a world beyond Chaeyoung's mouth and the feeling between your legs. The room feels warmer, it starts to be overwhealming, you suddenly become aware of the hot water and the sweat on the back of your neck. The smell of jasmine is still present, but it is overshadowed by the smell of her hair that has not yet touched the water. The taste of wine and strawberry in your mouth is still there, but now you can taste her too.  Some candles have already melted. 

Her hand immediately stops, and before you can complain, she shuts you up with a kiss. 

“I want to taste you” she breathes seconds before running her tongue across your parted lips, giving your shivers. 

That's all you need to hear to know what to do, you don't need to be told twice or given directions on what to do. It is one of those things that you have internalized so much that your body executes the action before your brain can process the information. You untangle your limbs and she gives you space as she helps you to reposition yourself. 

When you stand up, you notice the change in temperature hitting your skin. Your nipples stiffen against the cool air just as they do between her hot lips. This contrast feels good especially when you sit around the bathtub with your back against the cold tiles to spread your legs for her. Chaeyoung is in front of you, looking you in the eyes, but it doesn't take long for her to turn her gaze downward lingering on the marks on your neck, the nipples she so loves to savor and the fuzzy scratches on your stomach she has left tonight until her eyes land on your glistening core, with your swollen clit trapped between your puffy folds. It is not a matter of want anymore, you need her. 

The same desire you see in her eyes is what she sees in yours when you have her on her knees ready to devour you and get lost between your legs. Now the water barely covers half of her thighs giving you a delicious view of your girlfriend. Her petite frame, her tattooed arms in full display, the slightly marked muscles of her abdomen, the untattooed hand with freshly cut nails that seconds ago was bringing you to the edge and a little above her perfectly trimmed bush, the tattoo on her hip that nobody but you have witnessed. 

It doesn't matter how many times you have seen her because she always manages to take your breath away and fluster you when she stares at you with that look where love and lust blend together. 

“God... you look so good and so delicious. I love you so much” she says in such an adorable tone that you can't help but giggle. 

“I don't know how you can be cute in moments like this, I love you more” you reply grabbing her hands and pulling her closer to you. 

“I'm not cute” she whines proving that even when she is about to go down on you she can be so adorable. 

She realizes it herself before you tease her further and hides in your neck as you chuckle, but the next thing she does takes you by surprise. When she bites your neck right at your pulse point, a moan comes from your throat. 

Right away, you place her hands on your hips and pull her close, trapping her body between your thighs. Chaeyoung does the rest and gets into the right position to then slide her arms around your legs so that they are over her shoulders. Her slender fingers dig into the flesh of your thighs with possession while yours tangle in her hair tightly, giving away your desperation. 

She presses gentle kisses on your inner thighs, no matter how much she wants to taste you or how much you need to feel her mouth, those are mandatory and they melt you every time. The trail starts down near your knees and as she gets closer to your center those kisses are followed by little nibbles and kitten licks. 

“You taste like soap” she giggles. 

You don't answer her, but instinctively grab the glass that is still full of white wine and spill it on your bare leg, making her gulp. Despite the initial surprise, she reacts swiftly and catches the drops of wine before they reach the junction between your legs. You know she wouldn't let a drop of her favorite wine go to waste, especially if it means tasting it straight from your skin. For some it may be arguable, but for Chaeyoung, wine has never tasted so good to her as it does right now. 

“You're crazy” she whispers before biting you tenderly.

His mouth does not distract you from the hand that dangerously runs its thumb around your pussy making you shudder slightly in anticipation. Soon the touch of her fingers is replaced by her tongue that runs along your slit from your hole to your clit tasting your juices. As you exhale the air that has been caught in your lungs, she inhales the scent of your arousal. 

When you feel yourself getting so close to where you were just moments ago by her just lapping on your juices you know you won't be able to last much longer. She is not much farther away as you can constantly feel the vibration of her moaning against your core just from eating you out. If this goes on you are confident that she might cum just from going down on you and that is incredibly hot. She really enjoys this and you are really taking advantage of her skills, she is just so good at this. 

Chaeyoung knows what she is doing and knows your body better than you do. Tongue flat as she licks your cunt up and down, but hardening the muscle as she strokes the bundle of nerves just before wrapping her lips around it and sucking on it threatening to break the knot in your abdomen. Both of your breaths quicken and get uneven, merging in the air with moans, muffled cursing and the obscene sound of your wetness against her tongue. 

Once again the fingers join in, collecting the spit and slick mess that coats your pussy and drips down your thighs into your ass. It is hot, dirty and lewd in contrast to the softness of her features and the tranquility reflected in her face with her eyes shut as she plays with your juices and intoxicates herself in your scent. The same scent that is now coating the fingers that playfully feel your entrance making a beg to slip in between the moans.

“I need you inside” you plead softly. 

Seconds later she shoves two fingers inside while her mouth focuses on your clit, drawing shapes with her tongue getting hungrier and faster, matching the speed of her fingers as they fill you up and take you closer to the edge. 

Her name is heard coming out of your lips louder and louder, each one of them is followed by a soft echo that screams her name with you again. 

“Chaeyoung…”.

“Right there!”.

“So good”.

 “Don’t stop”.

At your prayers she can only give you what you ask for by making your body go back and forth between the quivering of your limbs and the tightness of your muscles as your back arches in pleasure and your legs lock around her head. As her movements speed up and her fingers reach new spots when they arch inside you, the tension is what takes over your body as you chase your high. 

Your hand pulls her hair burying her face in your cunt while the other finds a place squeezing your breast, trusting that Chaeyoung is there to get you. Feeling your body come over the edge your hips begin to move erratically, to her it doesn't go unnoticed and she says the words that she knows will lead you to where you need to be. Pulling her mouth just inches away from your center she whispers against your sensitive skin as she looks into your eyes that fight to stay open. 

“You’re taking me so well, cum for me now baby”. 

That couple of words followed by her fingers hitting that soft spot inside you as her lips catch your clit is the last thing you needed for the wave of pleasure to wash over your body, finally releasing the tension stuck in your lower abdomen and shutting down your senses for a brief moment. All you feel is the release as your vision fades to black and the sounds around you become a blur. 

Before you can regain consciousness you notice the last few licks as she cleans you up and keeps her fingers inside you so you can ride out the earth shattering orgasm you have just had. She carefully laps up every last drop of cum being careful not to overstimulate you, but even that doesn't stop your legs from shaking before the tension in your limbs dissipates completely. 

You are still panting when you hear her giggling and look down, encountering an image that you can only hope will be burned into your memory. 

You can safely say it is the most erotic thing you have ever laid eyes on in your entire life. Still between your legs you see her face framed by her messy black hair, bringing out even more of the blush on her cheeks that complements her fleshy pink lips coated in your slick as she is grinning. She has the same dark hooded eyes she has when she is starting to get drunk, perhaps she's actually drunk on you.

[allywthsr]

THE SONG OF OUR LOVE | (h. lewis)

summary: a normal day in the Wroetoshaw household

wordcount: 2.1k words

pairing: harrylewis x singer!reader

warnings: none

notes: first imagine! please be nice and comment your thoughts! The song Y/N is writing is : all 4 nothing by lauv :)

On this surprisingly warm Tuesday morning, you woke up at around 9:00 am. Despite having an early studio session, which didn’t start before 11:00 am, you decided to get up early.

Your boyfriend of eight years is still sound asleep on your shared bed.

The cutest little snores came out of his slightly opened mouth.

You looked into the mirror you had put up on the wall, seeing your T-shirt, well, Harry’s T-shirt, an old Sidemen merch you pulled out of the other side of the closet a few days ago. And an old pair of shorts you bought from your favorite shop when you first moved to London.

On your tiptoes, you sneak out of your bedroom trying not to wake up your favorite person.

You had this song idea stuck in your head and you needed to write it down or record it somehow. Thinking of the recording app you had installed on your phone, you went to your home studio, which the boys of your crew had set up for you.

You opened the door and to the left, all of your guitars were hanging on the wall. Yet your favorite guitar was standing next to the fluffy white couch you picked out for this room. Wanting to have a comfy and nice looking space for when you were creative.

The couch was mostly used by your boyfriend Harry when he was lounging on it while listening to your recording or mostly writing melodies and lyrics.

Across from the couch you had your little setup. A table where you placed your monitor, attached to the table is a microphone which you could move around to any position you‘d like, some noise-canceling headphones were placed on top of the microphone, ready to be picked up. And last but not least, the matching white fluffy chair, where you spend hours and hours trying to write the perfect song.

When you woke up, at around 1:00 am, when Harry went to bed after a little work dinner with Callux, Calfreezy, Chip, and Will (which turned into a ’who can down the most Sambuca shots in 10 seconds‘ challenge), you had this song stuck in your head. You just needed to write it down somehow, too scared that you wouldn’t remember it when you went to the actual studio.

You sat down on your couch and picked up the guitar next to you. Getting your phone out, you opened the recording app and pressed play.

You started to play the guitar quietly trying to play the melody you had stuck in your head.

After finding the right tune you started to hum quietly.

”I‘m so in love, I‘m so in love

I don’t ever wanna stop this ride that we’re on

I don’t ever wanna say goodbye

Then all of these nights they would be just for nothing��

Thinking of Harry, you wrote another love song. This boy is stuck in your head and you can’t seem to get him out of there, not that you wanted to.

The thought of saying goodbye to him made your heart clench. After being in a relationship for a bit longer than eight years and knowing each other since primary school, you couldn’t imagine a life without him.

He was your soulmate, and you were his.

You’ve spent so many nights talking, laughing and just enjoying each other’s presence while both of you had a busy day ahead, often oversleeping in the morning and being late to important meetings, these nights couldn’t be for nothing.

”Third of October

We were never sober

First few times that we hung out

But we fell in love somehow“

Third of October, the day that Harry asked you to be his. It was back in Guernsey. You guys went for a walk and that’s where he asked you.

The first time you hung out with him as in ‘I like him more than a friend‘ was at parties. With him being 19 and you 18, you were allowed to legally drink alcohol and both of you did that. A lot. You don’t remember much, but some of your friends took pictures of you that first night you went out together. It was in July 2015 and you came to London for a visit, Harry insisting to go for a ‘few pints‘. The few pints turned into a few shots and before you realized both of you were peppered.

The picture shows you on a bench near a park as Harry clung to you while you were trying to hold your puke in.

Not one of your greatest moments but definitely a key one for your relationship.

After that you started to visit Harry more often in London, always going out to clubs but you guys also had your quiet moments.

Cuddling with a raging hangover after a wild night out. Or playing Mario Kart when you both couldn’t sleep, getting too angry at the other for throwing blue or red shells.

In October he came to Guernsey and that’s where it happened.

”First time that I met you

I didn't have a damn clue

That I love everything about you

Now I can't think of life without you“

The first time you met him was the first day of primary school. You instantly clicked and hit it off perfectly. With playdates, sleepovers, and exploring the island together.

It was clear from the beginning to both of your parents that you would end up together.

You never thought of Harry that way until you turned 16. Suddenly your heart skipped a beat when you saw him, you felt nervous to talk to him and whenever you guys touched, you thought a lightning struck through your body.

Thinking back to that time, brought a smile to your lips, not able to imagine a life without him anymore.

”Eh, did you know that you're my whole heart?

Eh, did you know that I never stop? No

Giving you everything I got 'cause I'm so

I'm so in love, I'm so in love“

You couldn’t believe how lucky you were to have Harry by your side. At this point, if he would leave, you would follow him, because he‘s yours and you’re his.

”and then just repeating the beginning and maybe another verse not sure about that yet“

You told basically yourself so you wouldn’t forget what you wanted to do with the rest of the song.

Just as you were about to press the stop recording button, the door to your studio opened and a very sleepy Harry came through it.

”what are you doing? I woke up and you weren’t by my side anymore“

You let out a laugh, ”I had this song idea stuck in my head since you came home. I needed to record it somehow.“

You put the guitar back onto its stand making sure the app was still recording, as you loved putting little extras of talking at the beginnings or endings of songs.

”Oh really? Can I listen to it?“ Harry came closer to you. You stood up and gave him a hug.

”I wanna record a demo in the studio later and then I can show you,“ Harry not being happy with this answer looked at you with a pout on his lips.

You giggled and kissed his lips, which just looked absolutely delicious this morning, with his beard being a bit longer than usual.

Harry being Harry, tried to deepen the kiss.

”No Harry come on, I have to go to the studio soon and you have meetings and a video shoot later, we don’t have time.“

”I only need five minutes, Y/N please.“

You shake your head and looked at him with your stern look.

Harry let out a sigh.

”Get a girlfriend, they said, it’s going to be fun, they said,“ he looked at you playful.

You slapped his chest, and now it was your turn to pout.

”Harry I‘d love to, but we really have no time. Later, alright? I wanted to ask you something anyway,“ you loosened your arms from the embrace you still shared. ”I wanted to go to Talia later, to talk about recording a song together, do you wanna come? Talia said Simon is going to be there too.“

”Yeah sure,“ he nodded while a grin started to form on his face, ”but if you want to see Mushu, you can just say so, you know. Don’t have to pretend that you want to record with Talia.“

You looked at him offended. You loved Mushu, ever since T and Simon got him, you‘ve been nagging Harry to get a dog. He‘s still refusing, constantly reminding you what happened to Herb. Your argument, that you both were practically kids and weren’t even able to take care of yourself when you got little Herb, does not convince Harry in any way.

”I love my Talia and we‘ve talking about recording music together for ages now. Even thought about making a whole album and just call it ’the sidewomen‘ to get more money, you know using your name and stuff,“ you grinned at him. ”But yeah, Mushu is also a reason I wanna go there,“ now changing into your baby voice, ”I mean have you seen that sweet fluffy face? He’s a furball, how can you not love him?“ A smile appears on your face just at the thought of Mushu and his incredibly soft fur.

”You know, sometimes I‘m scared you will leave me for a dog,“ Harry voiced his concern.

”Maybe you should start barking before I actually do.“

”I love you, Y/N, I really do.“

Your heart forms into a puddle and the pout appears on your lips again.

”I love you too, you’re the sweetest.“

You shared a kiss, as Harry’s hand connected with your right ass cheek, creating a loud slap sound.

”HARRY,“ you let out a shriek.

”I would love you even more if you would finally join me in the bedroom again.“

A grin appears on your face.

”Alright, but we really have no time. Let me just save the recording and then I‘ll come.“

With Harry leaving the room, you turned around and walked to your phone which still lays on the couch, where you left it.

You pressed the button, to stop recording. With a smile you saved it, making sure you could hear Harry and you talking, as you knew what to put at the end of the song you just recorded.

Taking your phone with you, you walked to the bedroom where Harry was waiting for you.

/////////////////////

When you and Harry both returned from the duties you had for the day, it was around 4:00 pm. You’ve been in the studio all day, recording the song you thought of this morning.

And Harry had a recording session with the boys for more Sidemen and Side+.

You’ve been excited all the time you’ve spent in the studio to finally show Harry the new song.

With Harry lounging on the couch, typing away on his phone, as you walked through the door of your living room, you couldn’t wait to be in his arms again.

You threw yourself on top of him. Harry immediately put his arms around you and squeezing you close. With your head propped up on his chest and the perfect view of his face, you couldn’t believe he was yours.

”Hiya“, you smiled at him, looking into his eyes.

”Hey there“, he smiled back at you, as he started to rub his hands up and down your back.

”I have the first demo version of the new song I started on today, you wanna listen to it?“

Before he answered, he moved your legs on both sides of his and sitting up straight, so you sat on his lap.

”What a question, of course Y/N. Show me right now.“

You giggled at his serious expression and pulled out your phone where the producer of the studio saved one of the versions.

”But have in mind, this is only a demo version, it’s not perfect and still a lot is missing.“

”As if I care, just show me.“

You selected the file of the final demo version and clicked play. Turning up the volume a bit more and your voice filled the room.

”I'm so in love…“

After the last chorus was played Harry wanted to start talking, but you only placed your index finger on his lips to shush him.

Harry looked at you confused with a tilted head, curious what’s gonna come after the song was finished and then he heard his own voice.

”You know, sometimes I‘m scared you will leave me for a dog.“

”Maybe you should start barking before I actually do.“

”I love you, Y/N, I really do.“

”I love you too, you’re the sweetest.“

[makemeimmortalwithahug]

How Could You Think, Darling, I'd Scare So Easily?

Painland Week Day 2 - Myths/Legends

Charles/Edwin - post-canon

y'all remember how I said a few days ago that day 2 for @painlandweek was almost finished? Yeah,, when I went to bed two nights ago, this fic had 500 words. When I woke up again, I thought, hey, just write another 500 words and get back to it to flesh it out sometime later. Yeah, I finished this at 3am and it turned out to be *checks word count* almost 4000 words! Whoops?

Word count: 3726

ao3 link will be added

Title is from Hozier's "Francesca"

TW: body horror (Charles changing forms)

summary:

Hell has made them stronger together, Edwin is sure of that. It has, however, also made Charles anxious to leave Edwin alone for longer periods of time. When Charles doesn't return home for hours and neither Crystal nor Edwin know where he might be, everything leads to a familiar witch who wants to find out how strong the bond between the two ghosts really is when tested.

It had been exactly two months, three weeks and five days since they escaped Hell, found and lost enough to last another lifetime or two and realised the possibility of relative peace existed for them in the form of a trans-dimensional being who had never learnt what “tranquillity” even meant. Edwin agreed that most times, there was too much paperwork to be done to even try to achieve some peace of mind. 

For the most part, though, it was just an excuse. In reality, Edwin struggled with the idea that he could stop running now. After decades of looking over his shoulder, it took an immense amount of effort to direct his gaze at what’s in front of him.

Looking ahead now, all Edwin could see was the empty office, dust dancing over the furniture. The boxing gloves lay forgotten on a table near the entrance door and the football Charles always played with inside despite how much Edwin complained haphazardly rolled under the couch. Everything was still and that was only the beginning of the long list Edwin formulated in his mind of Things That Were Wrong.

Exhibit B: Charles was nowhere to be found. Which, while not particularly sitting right with Edwin, was not an unusual occurrence these days. Charles spent a lot of time with Crystal, helping her get used to her new flat or just keeping her company, watching movies. Crystal always made sure to extend her invitation to Edwin as well and he agreed every once in a while, sitting next to Charles on Crystal’s small but cosy couch, thighs touching. He also enjoyed his time spent with Crystal. She had grown on him and he was quite glad to call her his friend. Edwin lent her the detective novels he loved and in return he listened to what she called “podcasts” about psychology. 

But even so, he knew that the needling to “come over to hers with me, yeah, mate? The movie’s s'posed to be aces” was solely Charles’ doing because he did not like letting him out of his sight ever since Hell. This resulted in Charles excessively checking in on him via mirror every few hours, which most times was met by Edwin with a fondly annoyed eye roll. Edwin was quick to give in when confronted with Charles’ pleading eyes. It was not like he was any different in that regard. Spending time with them was no hardship whatsoever and Edwin had to admit that he found it quite sweet how Charles would look after him.

Which brought him to exhibit C: Charles had been gone for more than five hours and had not checked in on Edwin once in this time. Which had Edwin more worried than was probably warranted. Charles would be just fine, he was sure. He would just take a quick trip to Crystal’s and then he could calmly get back to his work for the Night Nurse. 

Edwin stood up and put the files under their paperweight. Mirror travel had been one of the most fascinating aspects of being a ghost. It required to be precise and focused while not putting any strain on his energy. It took just a fraction of a second until he found himself standing in the middle of Crystal’s living room.

“Holy fuck!” The resounding thump alerted Edwin to their psychic who was clutching her shoulder that she probably hit against the door frame she was currently leaning against, mouth twisted in pain and eyes wide with shock and irritation. “Edwin! How many times do we have to have this conversation until it sticks?”

“Yes, yes, no sudden mirror jumping into your room. I know.” Edwin pursed his lips, looking around. Better get to the point quickly.  “Is Charles here?”

“No, he isn’t. I don’t know where loverboy is, why?”

“He is not home either, has he said anything?”

Crystal flopped down on her couch. “Well, he said he wanted to come ‘round today to help me fix the sink but he didn’t show.” Reaching onto the coffee table for her phone, she checked the time. “Yeah, Charles said he’d be here around two.”

Edwin felt his stomach lurch in anxiety. It was half past five. A chilled silence filled the room as they looked at each other in question.

“Let me grab my jacket.”

“Doesn’t seem any different, right?” 

The agency lay completely untouched, nothing out of the ordinary. Normally, this would ease Edwin’s nerves, seeing as it was his sanctuary, his safe space along with Charles. Now, though, this also meant that there were no clues as to where Charles had gone. 

“Quite,” he agreed. Walking in circles around their desk, he eventually walked up to the window and peered outside. “Maybe there is something outside, he didn’t leave through the mirror.” 

They made their way downstairs, Crystal barely holding onto the railing to not slip on the steps in her hurry while Edwin simply opted to let himself fall through the floor to get to the entrance door as soon as possible. The night creeped in steadily, the shadows growing longer, twisting at their ankles. Their office was located a little off the beaten path, but not too far. When they first started flat-hunting, they were conscious that they had to balance on an incredibly fine line of finding a place just secluded enough to not bear the brunt of the daily London tourism but also don’t attract anyone who might be searching for lost places to scout out. 

This resulted in a beautiful view from their window but dark alleyways that led to seemingly nowhere, cobblestones streets with missing stones and cracks in them. The walls towered over them here, making it harder to distinguish the darkening sky from the roofs and edges. Their living neighbour had hung their bed sheets on the washing lines on the balcony and whenever Edwin blinked and tried to bring his eyes back into focus, they reminded him of David the Demon when they first exorcised him. 

It was dark, dirty and daunting. Nothing looked to be amiss. Except, of course, for the backpack that was sloped against the gutter. Edwin snatched it up and true enough: Charles’ bag of tricks. The straps showed various scratches and the top was stained. Decidedly not a condition Charles would leave his most prized possession in. Crystal was aware of this as well and carefully reached out to read it.

The few seconds that passed while Crystal’s eyes turned white and she stared into the distance were the most agitating of his existence.

Crystal gasped, letting the bag fall to the floor again, supporting herself on her knees. Edwin crouched next to her with his hands fluttering around her, not exactly knowing what he was supposed to do to help her. 

Resurfacing, she stood up again, shooting Edwin a small grateful smile that quickly blinked away again.

“Esther’s back,” she announced and tucked her jacket tighter around her. “She ambushed him here and took him.”

And Edwin’s world broke into pieces, shattering from the sky onto the puddle-ridden street and breaking the moonshine.

He didn’t say anything at first, every word vanished from his mind.

“I might know where they are, though. Or, I can find out.”

“How?” His voice sounded rough - harsh, but Crystal didn’t get angry. She knew that this was not borne of anger but sheer gripping despair.

“She had a business card on her and when Charles tried to defend himself, he caught a glimpse.”

This, more than anything, gave Edwin the determination needed to hoist the backpack onto his shoulder.

“Let us not waste any time, then. Do you think this internet you have might be of help?”

“For sure, Edwin,” she answered, petting his shoulder.

If Edwin hadn’t been out of his mind worrying about Charles, leaving him with sparsely any mental capacities to think about anything else, then he could have admitted that Coupeville, Washington was a tranquil but charming little town. With its little art stores and cafes, it gave a delightfully unassuming appearance.

Edwin hated every moment. For the sake of not leaving Crystal alone - he tried to silence the voice in his head that whispered you couldn’t take care of Charles either -, he had suffered through another flight, a ferry and multiple train rides. 

Crystal huffed as she dragged her suitcase up the stairs.

“She couldn’t have been less creative, huh? Relocating one ferry-ride away.” Which was true. Port Townsend could be reached in less than an hour. 

Personally, he could not care less whether she called this town or the bloody Empire State Building her home. All he cared about was getting Charles back as soon as possible.

They quickly checked into a hotel to get rid of the suitcase. Insisting that she had slept enough while travelling, they immediately headed to the address that Crystal had found out using the business card - a brewery. 

It must have been well visited only a few weeks ago, the dust had not properly set yet. But the lights were out and the doors were barricaded. Quickly nodding at Edwin, Crystal got on the way to find a window she could climb through while Edwin seized the opportunity to phase through the doors. Darkness enveloped him and he could not hear a single sound. 

He slowly made his way across the reception area, trying to get a feeling for how big the building really was and where Esther might have been hiding in here. If there was actually any connection to Charles’ disappearance and this place, anyway. But Edwin couldn’t stop and think about this very real possibility. 

Focusing on his surroundings, he noticed suspicious lines behind a grandfather clock on his left. And sure enough, upon examining them up close, there was a small door hidden behind it. Anxious excitement coursed through his body and he waited impatiently for Crystal’s arrival. 

“Searched for the entrance for celebrities, did you?”

“Shut it. Let’s move this clock.”

Despite taking a few tries, at last they found themselves faced with the entirety of the door. The handle was made out of iron, but Edwin didn’t hesitate to grab it despite the pain and the indignant screech Crystal let sound. 

“Are you out of your fucking mind? You might still need that hand.”

“Irrelevant and inaccurate, I won’t lose it by touching iron for a few seconds, do not be silly. And regardless, Charles does matter more right now.” He tried to hide the red swelling on his palm but he was not ignorant enough to think that Crystal actually hadn’t noticed.

“A plan is needed. I would suggest you wait here, in case Esther is not here and tries to surprise us.” 

“Alright.” Crystal nodded. “Don’t do anything stupid, yeah? Charles wouldn’t forgive anyone if you got hurt.”

Least of all himself went unsaid but they both heard it all the same. 

Edwin inclined his head, opened the door and went inside.

The room unfolding in front of him was surprisingly spacious but shockingly empty except for the enormous carpet. Sliding onto his knees, he felt the cloth and without a doubt: laced with magic. It was easy enough to counter the spell that acted as both a means to soundproof and seal without a lock whatever lay underneath it. 

Moving it aside, he was faced with a basement and without a second thought, jumped down.

Like a moth to a flame, Edwin’s eyes immediately found Charles in the completely dark room. 

“Charles,” he breathed, the name echoing off the walls like a prayer. 

Charles was slumped against the far wall, hands in cuffs mounted next to head which was lolling unoriented. When he finally looked up, Edwin was met with a disbelieving smile. But before Edwin could reciprocate, a look of blinding terror coloured Charles’ face pale.

“Edwin!” he hissed, pulling at his cuffs which brought tears to his eyes in pain. “Please, please leave, Edwin, she’s after you.” 

Edwin didn’t even think about leaving without Charles. All it took was the span of a blink and Edwin fell to his knees beside him, trying to find magical leeway for him to put the cuffs out of action, but to his dismay he realised that Esther had reinforced her strategy, not just opting for simple iron but also a curse. 

“What? What do you mean by that?” he asked, only half listening as he mentally flipped through all the knowledge he had on this kind of magic.

“She,” Charles began, coughing, “She said she was impressed that we escaped last time. She wants to get rid of me first and see how much it’d raise your pain level to drain you again. Put a curse on me too, in case you showed up.”

That got Edwin’s attention. “What?! Do you feel alright? What kind of curse?” 

“Eh.” Charles’ head lolled to the side again, as if he was losing consciousness. “She wants to try sacrificing me and if you tried to rescue me, I’d turn in all kinds of horrible beasts. Wouldn’t want to hold onto me then, she said. Wants to see how far you’d go.” 

“Charles, Charles!” Edwin held him by the shoulders, careful not to jostle him. “I’d go anywhere for you, do you understand? A curse is not going to stop me.”

But Charles was barely there anymore, teetering on the edge of oblivion. “S’ planned for t’morrow. I won’t blame you for letting go, mate, you were scared for so long, don’t need any more of that, yeah?” And then he fell into something close to sleep but what most likely resembled unquiet rest.

There was nothing he could do against the cuffs, not with no grasp on what exact kind of magic he was dealing with and no idea how much time he had left until Esther would show up.

Edwin put a hand to Charles’ cheek. “Don’t worry, I’ll hold onto you, Charles, stay strong.”

With one last glance to his love, he began climbing back out of the basement.

Upon reading up on locations with magical and sacrificial history in Washington, Edwin concluded that their best chance was a secluded part of coastline, the stony beach along with the clear view of the sky providing the perfect atmosphere. 

Edwin and Crystal were hiding in the underwood, watching Esther where she was standing near the shore, when suddenly, something moved right in front of them. 

Crystal gasped. “Did- did the path just move?”

Quickly, he shushed her. “No, there is no path,” he whispered, “there is only the beach. That is a snake.”

True enough: a black snake slithered up to the ritual circle Esther had set up. This snake was even bigger than the one in Esther’s house in Port Townsend and tied to its back, there was Charles.

“Okay,” he said softly, “wish me luck.”

Consolingly, Crystal put her hand on his shoulder. “You don’t need luck. Go get him. I’ll deal with Esther.”

They stood up and sneaked closer. From a safe distance, Crystal started tapping into her powers. Edwin trusted her, therefore he turned to Charles straight away. 

Edwin had also found a remedy for the cuffs’ curse, which made it easy to pull him off, hugging him close and making it just far enough away to give Crystal the opportunity to handle the snake.

Tightening his arms around Charles, who was panting against his neck, it didn’t take long until he could feel Charles’ body morph. 

When Charles told him that he’d turn into various beasts, Edwin had thought about what he had been afraid of when he was still alive. After seventy years in Hell, any scary children’s story he had heard lost its appeal. When he was ten, his neighbour’s children had told him a story about Spring-heeled Jack who’d haunt the streets of London but also other areas of Britain. They told him about his terrifying looks with his claws, jumping at passersby to scratch them and then back into the night. 

Thinking back now, though, Edwin would gladly face a hundred variations of Spring-heeled Jack all alone if it meant that Charles would be safe and sound in their office come next morning.

“I’ve got you, Charles,” he mumbled. He didn’t respond and as Edwin looked up at him, he came face-to-face with a doll version of Charles, his eyes unseeing and mouth twisted in a numb smile, a hollow feeling to his body. Edwin could see his own face reflected in Charles’ eyes, unease boiling slowly under his skin. Where Charles’ hold on him had been strong and desperate only moments ago, now it was stiff and felt like porcelain. Edwin’s fear of dolls was real and tangible but he was far more scared of letting Charles go and shattering him on the stones.

He pressed Charles closer to him.

He stayed in this form for a while until Edwin felt a shift again. This time, Charles resembled the demon that had dragged Edwin to Hell. He was a familiar sight albeit an unpleasant one, so Edwin just put his forehead to Charles’ shoulder and waited it out, the haze around them slowly dissipating.

Next was the thing one of his demons had traded him to. He maintained that it was worse than a demon, for the simple reason that there were characteristics one could apply to a demon, it was possible to create a definition and know what to expect when one encountered a demon. This thing, however, was less a physical form and more a foreboding. The feeling deep in the bones that something horrible was imminent and no matter how hard one would try to work against it, failure was predestined. A looming presence - a threat. There was a voice in the back of the mind, whispering knowingly about every mistake he ever made and it was all your fault, right? Niko dying, Charles getting hurt, Crystal being dragged along to all of this, having been in Hell? But you don’t need me to tell you that, you already think so.

It was a sick trick and his only enemy in this was his own mind. But Edwin had grown, he had realised that thinking something didn’t have to reflect reality. And while he did blame himself for all these things from time to time, it was a passing sorrow. None of the people involved in these thoughts would want him to condemn himself and after his second time in Hell, Edwin had understood that he needed to show himself self-respect as well. Hell was an error Edwin had had no control over.

He did, however, have control over not letting Charles fear that he would be afraid enough to leave him. Because he was quite sure that underneath these appearances, Charles was conscious of what was happening and scared out of his mind.

“Don’t worry,” he whispered. “It’s alright.”

The fourth form was the spider-doll-demon. Its many arms were gripping Edwin’s back, the dolls’ heads pressing into his chest and neck. Edwin tried to slow his breathing. He spent more than seventy years running away from this demon and being so close to it was associated with blinding pain, being torn apart over and over again. 

Maybe now was the time to finally stop running and face his fear head-on. And so he looked straight at it, staring lovingly beneath its surface where he knew Charles was.

One second to the other, the demon was gone. There was no other figure, but Edwin still felt Charles’ presence and he tensed up at once, realising what this particular fear resembled: Charles was invisible, gone from his sight. No means for him to see him again, the only thing left for him to do was anxiously grip where Charles’ shoulders were supposed to be and not let Charles jerk away if he saw the horror on Edwin’s face. This was the only shape that compelled Edwin to screw his eyes shut. 

Time passed until he felt Charles change one more time. This was the only one not tailored specifically to one of Edwin’s fears and it showed him that he had been right in assuming where Esther had drawn her inspiration for this act from.

Charles resembled a burning coal, the heat licking at Edwin’s skin. He embraced him tightly, stood up with him and dragged him into the water. Below the surface, he could see Charles turning back into himself, his bright eyes the most beautiful sight he had ever seen. Nothing had ever felt as right as holding Charles in his arms.

Bubbles appeared in front of Charles’ mouth even though he didn't need to breathe and Edwin erupted spontaneously into laughter at the ridiculous sight of Charles trying to speak underwater. Despite being in the water, he felt himself get teary-eyed. He didn’t even try to fool himself into thinking that they would not both be sobbing messes as soon as they resurfaced. But for now all he needed to do was drink in Charles’ smile.

Back on the shore, Crystal was busy brushing off her jeans.

“Boys!” she yelled as soon as she saw them, running towards them and pulling them both into a hug at the same time. “Esther’s gone, let’s hope for good.”

“Yeah,” Charles whispered, putting one arm around Edwin’s hips. 

Crystal pulled back, smiling knowingly but in a comforting way. “So glad you’re both alright. I’ll go check to make sure no one here accidently saw me fighting a huge snake and a witch. Meet me at the hotel, yeah?” With that, she walked back in the direction of the trees. 

Charles turned to Edwin, smiling shyly. “So, you kept holding me,” he stated.

“Nothing has ever been easier, Charles.” He put his hands on Charles’ shoulders again. They fit so well there.

They hugged once more.

“You know,” Edwin mused, playing with Charles’ hair, “it was like Tam Lin.”

“Mhh?” Charles mumbled, he sounded tired. “What’s that?”

“A legendary Scottish ballad. Not letting your love go, no matter what.”

“Oh.” Charles’ eyes were wide. “Does that one end in tragedy too?”

Edwin smiled. “No, it ends precisely like this.” And Charles’ smile was brilliant as he leaned in and kissed Edwin.

[justmystyles]

hi! hope ur okay. did you see that harry performed wet dream with wet leg? can you pleaseee write a harry x reader (she's singing with him) they're not a couple but there's some tension between them

Perfect Harmony

read my other work here

pairing: Harry Styles x plus size reader

word count: 2.1k

warnings: a couple of curse words, but other than that, it's tame.

summary: you're in the final days of the tour, and Harry makes a suggestion that ends up changing everything.

a/n: i did see that! he's really going out with a bang, isn't he? i hope you like what i did with your ask! 🖤

tags: @allthelovehes @ameerakane20 @ash-craze @bethanysnow @blue-ballad @blueraspberryreader @brightlightsinlife @creativelyeva @cute-as-ducks420 @deannaard @fanficismydrug @gem1712 @golden-hoax @gothmingguk @groovychaosavenue @hillzrry @iceebabies @indierockgirrl @jerseygirlinca @jng4kook @jooniesbabie @kaverichauhan @lexiecamposv @mrs-anna-styles211994 @n0vaj3an @potterheadandsherlocked @rach2699 @ravenclawdirectioner @stylesfeverr @superchrystaldrug @tenaciousperfectionunknown @tiaamberxx @thechaoticjoy @theekyliepage @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @youknowwhaaat

You were putting the finishing touches on your makeup, when there was a knock on your dressing room door. You called for them to enter, keeping your eyes on the mirror in front of you. You see Harry come into view behind you, and your gaze locks on him in the reflection.

“Don’t worry, you look stunning.” He assured you. You chuckled, running a brush over your cheeks to try to hide the blush that grew from the compliment. 

You thought he was just being kind, but you had no idea how deeply he really meant those words. Ever since he found your performances on YouTube, he had been completely captivated. He immediately got in touch with his team and did everything he could to get you onboard as his opening act. 

When you met face to face, the feelings only intensified for him. He was immediately smitten. He didn’t make a move, however, technically he was your boss and he didn’t want to make you uncomfortable. He decided it would be best to just be your friend, and you became close very quickly. You spent your days off exploring the cities you were visiting, you would hang out backstage singing and laughing, you had even written a couple of songs together. 

But the tour was coming to an end, and you would be going your separate ways. Harry was dreading the last show for a lot of reasons. Having to say goodbye to you was just about at the top of that list. 

“So listen,” he continued. “I had an idea I wanted to run by you.” 

You put the makeup brush down and turned to face him. “Whatcha thinking?” 

He took a deep breath, he was undeniably confident about this decision when he thought of it an hour ago, but now that he was standing in front of you pitching it, the doubts were starting to take over. “Well, I mean we only have two shows left,” he gave you a sad smile, which you returned. “And I want to get as much stage time as possible, and give the fans something special to remember me by. So I was thinking that maybe I could join you onstage during your set, maybe debut one of the songs we’ve written together?”

“Debut?” You question, you thought those songs were just the two of you having fun, you never expected them to see the light of day. “I didn’t know you were planning on releasing them.” 

“Oh,” he was a little surprised by your reaction. “I mean, I haven’t actually planned to, but they’re really good Y/N, the world should hear them.” 

You consider his words, it would be fun to share the stage with him. His fans had been so welcoming and accepting, you had even noticed some people starting to sing along to your songs. “Yeah, okay. That would actually be really fun.” 

He responds with that wide, dimpled grin that makes your heart flutter, but you quickly suppress those feelings. You’re Harry’s buddy, he doesn’t see you that way. He never would. 

You spend a few minutes deciding on a song, and once you’re in agreement he runs you out to the stage for a quick rehearsal before the fans start flooding in. Once you’re finished with that, you say your goodbyes and go to your respective dressing rooms to get ready for the show. 

You feel as though you're performing the best set of your career, you can’t tell if it’s the fans or the anticipation of sharing the stage with Harry. Maybe both. You’ve grown a lot as a performer, but also as a person. You’d always loved singing, but the live performance piece always gave you a sense of dread and anxiety. You were never particularly comfortable in your skin, so the idea of standing up in front of all those people, bearing your soul was pretty terrifying. But Harry and his fans had made you feel so welcomed, comfortable, and loved that you got to a place where you couldn’t wait to hit the stage. 

“Alright, I’ve got one more song for you guys tonight!” You announce into the microphone. “It’s a new song, I’ve never performed it before, so I hope you like it.” You pull away from the microphone, as if the song’s about to begin, but before the music can kick in, you hold up a finger to the crowd and step back up to the microphone. “Actually, I’m going to need some help with this one, so I”m going to have the co-writer come out and help me. Ladies and gentlemen, Harry Styles!” 

The arena erupts into cheers and screams as Harry makes his way onstage with his guitar, smiling and waving to the crowd. He steps up to you, leaning down to kiss you on the cheek before whispering in your ear. “Let’s do this.” A chill runs up your spine at the feeling of his breath against your skin. 

You shake it off and step up to the microphone as Harry strums the opening notes. You open your mouth and the notes fly out of you with ease. The song is going even better than it had in rehearsals, you and Harry’s voices complimenting each other perfectly. There were tens of thousands of people in front of you, but it felt like you and Harry were the only two people on earth. There was a sparkle in Harry’s eyes when he looked at you, you hadn’t noticed it before, but you just chalked it up to the excitement of premiering a song in front of a live audience. 

You and Harry hit your harmonies on the final note, and the audience goes absolutely insane. You look over at Harry and chuckle as he shoots you a wink. You walk up to him, lifting his hand in victory and you bow together. “Thank you Lisbon, this guy will be right back, but I’ve been Y/N!” 

The two of you run off stage together hand in hand, adrenaline running high. You stop and face Harry once you’re backstage. 

“Holy shit,” you exclaim. “That was amazing, I can’t believe how–”

Your rambles are cut off as Harry crashes his lips against yours. You stiffen in shock briefly, but soon melt into the kiss. He lifts his hand to your cheek as his tongue runs across the seam of your lips, you let out a soft sigh, allowing him access to your mouth. 

He pulled away far too abruptly for your liking, your eyes fluttered open to see a look of shock and embarrassment on his face.

“I’m so sorry,” his eyes were wide.

“It’s fi–”

“No,” he interrupted you. “I shouldn’t have done that.” 

“Oh, okay.” Your eyes dropped to the floor. You thought that maybe he was feeling the same way about you, but by his reaction you could tell that he was clearly just caught up in the moment. He didn’t mean it. “I’m gonna, uh… have a good show.” You said to him, retreating to your dressing room before he could respond. Before your tears began to fall. 

Harry gave his all on stage, it was his second to last show and the fans that came to see him tonight deserved just as much as the fans that came to the first show in 2021. You would have never known that his mind was swirling the whole time, all he could think about was that kiss. You had kissed him back, you were sure of it, and you almost seemed disappointed when he pulled away and apologized. He should have been enjoying this moment, reveling in some of his final moments on stage, but he couldn’t wait for it to be over so he could find you. 

The second he was off the stage, he rushed to your dressing room only to find it empty.

“Shit.” He slammed a fist down on the table. He had made a real mess of things this time. 

You laid in your hotel bed absentmindedly clicking through the television channels. You had left pretty much right after the kiss. The tour was almost over, you just had to lay low for a few days, and then you and Harry would have plenty of distance. 

Just as you were starting to doze off, you were startled by a knock at your door. You contemplated just ignoring it, assuming they would take the hint and go away, but the next knock was louder, more insistent. You sighed and got out of bed, moving to the door. 

Upon opening it, you were greeted by Harry, a sad smile on his face. You never thought there would be a day where you didn’t want to see Harry, but here you were. 

It wasn’t anything against him, you just didn’t want the ‘I like you as a friend’ talk. You’d heard it so many times in your life, you weren’t sure you could handle it from him. Sure, you knew that was where his head was at, but if he never said it, you could still grasp onto that little sliver of hope that he might see you as something more. 

“You didn’t stay for the show.” 

“Yeah,” you shrug. “It’s been a long tour, I just kind of wanted an early night.” 

“Oh,” he said quietly, his eyes dropping to look at his shoes. “I thought maybe it was because of what happened when we got off stage.” 

You huffed a chuckle. “Don’t worry about it Harry, we had just gotten off stage, there was all this adrenaline and we were on a high. It was a mistake in the heat of the moment.” 

Harry looked up at you, his brow furrowed. “Did you think it was a mistake?” 

You were taken aback by his question. “I mean, you apologized and said you shouldn’t have. I just assumed you thou–”

“I didn’t apologize because of what I did. I apologized because of how I did it.” He looked at your face, trying to gauge your reaction. 

When he walked into your empty dressing room, he got hit with the sudden reality that in a couple of days, you’d be going your separate ways and he didn’t know when he was going to see you again. He decided that he needed to put it out there, tell you how he was feeling. 

There was a storm of confusion swimming in your eyes. “What… um, what do you mean?” 

“May I?” He gestured behind you. You nodded and stepped back, allowing him entry to your room. You both took a seat at the end of the bed. “Kissing you wasn’t a mistake, I’ve wanted to kiss you practically this whole tour. But it shouldn’t have been like that, I should have talked to you first, told you how I feel. Made sure the feelings were reciprocated.” 

“Feelings?” You questioned, your heart starting to race. 

“I think you’re amazing, Y/N, I’m crazy about you.” He looked at you with a vulnerability in his eyes that took your breath away. “I’ve been too afraid to tell you, I thought it might make things weird if you didn’t feel the same.” 

You look up at him in shock. You never expected those words to come out of his mouth. You were still trying to process his words when you noticed a slight panic cross his face, you realized it had been longer than it should have been, and you were just staring at him. “I do.” Was all you were able to say. 

“Yeah?” His lips curved up into a smirk.

“Of course, how could I not?” You ask. “You’re so sweet, and thoughtful, you make me laugh harder and more often than anyone I’ve ever met. Not to mention you’re fucking gorgeous.”

“Well, when you put it like that I see your point.” He joked. 

“And so humble about all of it,” you roll your eyes sarcastically. 

He chuckled softly before reaching over and taking your hand. “Can I take you on a date tomorrow night?”

You tuck your bottom lip between your teeth with a smile as you nod your head. “I would really like that.” 

You sat there in silence for a moment smiling at each other. Both of you marveling in the situation you found yourselves in. 

Harry was the first to break the silence. “Do you think maybe I could kiss you again? You know, show you how it was supposed to be?” 

“Yes, please.” You smile.

Without skipping a beat, Harry leaned forward, capturing your lips. There was no surprise this time, no tension, just butterflies and happiness. When you signed on to open for Harry, you never would have expected that Love on Tour was going to be taken so literally. 

[links-in-time]

How about a oneshot Wild and Four going climbing? I love both Links but don't see them interact very often, and that's something they have in common

@bradicalguy This was a tricky one for me to write and I think it's because you're right, Four and Wild don't interact much. So I hope this goes down well.

New Heights

Four sat near the campfire with a mail shirt covering his lap. The shirt in question belonged to Warriors, who had taken a hit for Wind and ended up tearing open a section of his right shoulder. Hyrule had healed the wound, but it was up to the smithy to fix the armour.

Four tuned the other boys out while he worked, expertly pulling out broken links and fitting in new ones. The newer loops of metal were slightly brighter than the rest of Wars’ mail. Four hoped the Captain wouldn't mind the difference in colour. After all, the armour had probably helped to save his arm, he doubted if it would really matter if the two metals didn't match.

The sound of Wild whistling by the fire caught Four’s attention and he glanced up at their cook. Wild stood beside a spit which he slowly turned over the dancing flames, preparing something for their evening meal later in the day. He looked content, in his own little world, just as Four had been while mending Warriors’ armour. Four smiled to see his brother looking so at ease and happy. It was a feeling the nine of them rarely got to savour.

He realised then that he and Wild rarely spent much time together. Of all the Links, he knew Wild the least. Four was close with Wind and Twilight, he often spent long hours chatting with Legend and Hyrule. Since their eras seemed to be the closest in the timeline. But he and Wild felt distanced by more than just time.

The last time they had actually spoken alone, Four had revealed the secret of the Four Sword and threatened violence on his brother. All in the name of protecting Twilight in his fragile condition. But the interaction had left a black mark on their relationship. Wild struggled to meet Four’s eye sometimes. And Four couldn't remember the last time Wild had sat beside him around the campfire.

Making a mental note, Four decided he would endeavour to get to know Wild better. To really truly count him as one of his adopted brothers

“Alright everyone!” Time said, earning him the attention of the group. “Twi's just come back from scouting the road ahead. Looks like a recent storm washed out a bridge that connects this part of Hyrule to the next town. We're gonna have to take another look at the map the merchant gave us and try to find a new route forward.”

This news earned a mixture of groans and sighs from the boys gathered around the fire. Four noticed however that Wild and Hyrule in particular seemed fairly pleased about the idea of staying put. Probably so they could go explore without the others worrying too much. He imagined them getting lost in the woods again, and their faces when Wolfie brought them back to camp.

Four chuckled to himself while the others continued talking. He returned to his work, fixing the last few links into place to finish the sleeve of the shirt. As he turned the mail in his hand, examining the structure and how it caught the sunlight, his attention was drawn back to Wild.

The Champion had removed the cooked meat from the spit and laid it out on a rock to rest. Having finished preparing for dinner, he returned to his bedroll and picked up his slate. Four watched, intrigued, as Wild struggled out of his clothes and pulled on a light sleeveless tunic and a pair of knee length sorts. Finally he wrapped a bandana around his head and clipped his slate to his belt.

“Going somewhere?” Twi asked, a second before Four could open his mouth.

“There's a cliff nearby on the map, I was gonna check it out and see if it's climbable," Wild replied.

“You know the Old Man doesn't like us going off on our own,” Twilight grumbled.

“It's not far!” Wild insisted.” You'd probably hear me scream if I fell.”

“You know that doesn't make me more inclined to let you go, right?!” Twilight raised an eyebrow.

“I'll go with him,” Four spoke up. “I've finished Wars’ mail and I know you'd feel better knowing Wild has a spotter while he's climbing.”

“You don't have to, Smithy,” said Wild, a little sceptically.

“I don’t mind, besides, I could use a walk to stretch my legs.”

“If you haven't stretched them with all the walking we've done, they're not going to get any longer Four!” Legend called from the other side of the camp.

“And you won't gain wit by throwing insults Vet!” Four retorted, fixing Legend with a pleasant smile and violet eyes.

While Legend bristled, Wild and Four headed away from camp. They walked in silence through the trees towards the spot Wild had seen on the map. Birds wheeled overhead and squirrels darted about among the trees. Four wondered how the Minish of this era were fairing. He hadn't seen any portals in this time, however, just because he hadn't seen them didn't mean they weren't there.

Four wondered what he would do if he found one. Would he go off alone, or would he take a member of the Chain with him? Would he take Wild with him? As someone who loved to explore, Four considered that Wild would love to meet a new race of people and delve into their world. The idea sparked Red and Vio’s curiosity, a feeling Four thought he had lost on this adventure.

“This is the place,” Wild announced, drawing Four back out of his thoughts.

As he looked up, Four almost bumped into his brother, who had stopped on the edge of the woods. The smaller hero had to crane his neck to see the top of the cliff towering above them. Birds circled overhead and Four had to fight back the image of vultures pecking at their remains.

“Are you coming or staying down here?” Wild asked, as he turned to look at his companion.

Four considered for a moment. He'd done plenty of climbing during his adventures, but it had been a while. He flexed his fingers, wondering whether he was still strong enough to pull himself up a sheer wall like this. Blue reminded him of all the time he'd spent in the forge, gaining the strength and muscle necessary to hone his craft.

Yeah he could do this.

“I'm coming with you. I haven't climbed in years, I wanna remember how it feels to reach the top!” Four stated, clenching his fist.

“Alright, we'll tie ourselves together with a safety line in case one of us slips.”

As Wild spoke, he pulled a long length of rope out of his slate and looped one end through his belt. He offered the other end to Four who did the same.

“Good idea, who knew you would consider a safety precaution!” Four chuckled, but when he looked up at Wild he stopped.

Wild's expression looked crestfallen.

“What's wrong?”

“That's what you all think of me, isn't it? That I'm unreliable and dangerous.” Wild uttered, avoiding eye contact with Four.

“What?!” Four exclaimed, taken aback by Wild's statement. “Wild, no one thinks you're dangerous!”

“But I cause problems!” Wild insisted, throwing his hands in the air. “My memory gaps make me unreliable and I know I'm impulsive and… I threatened you when Twi was hurt, Four. You of all people should understand.”

Four sighed, he knew Wild wasn't over their encounter in the courtyard outside the Inn. But he hadn't realised just how much it was affecting his brother.

“Wild,” Four said, his voice calm and even. “You are not dangerous, at least not to us. Drop you in the middle of a hoard of monsters and you slay brother. But you've never put any of us in danger. You took a hit for the Sailor, remember! And you make up for your impulsiveness by taking care of the rest of us in our down time. We'd all go hungry without you, or we'd be forced to eat Hyrule's cooking, or Twi's soup forever!”

Four shuddered to emphasise his point. The joke got a little smirk out of the Champion, but Four wasn't finished yet. Hands on hips, he continued to hammer home what a valued member of the team Wild really was.

“Don't forget that after we had our - disagreement outside that Inn, after you went and cooled off, you came back and brought potions to help Hyrule. Which very well could have meant the difference between Twilight living or not. There's no way someone who's unreliable would have done that.”

Wild's frown slackened and a pensive look passed over his face.

“You're a good man Wild. We all have our insecurities about our abilities, trust me. But yours do not make you a danger to any of us. You're our brother Wild, we'll always be here for you.”

For a while Wild said nothing, he simply stood staring at the grass and considered Four’s words.

“You really mean all that?” He asked eventually.

Four huffed a short laugh.

“I think as a rule guys like us don’t tend to lie.”

“I think we're all like that really. We're not a particularly complicated bunch of guys. Although, perhaps I was wrong about you Four.”

Wild raised an eyebrow at the smaller hero, and indicated the sword on his back.

“Ah, I wondered if you would get onto that topic at some point.”

Four decided not to elaborate, and instead began walking towards the cliff face, scanning the pale rock for signs of his first hand hold.

“Wait a minute!” Said Wild, as he hurried to follow Four as the slack in their rope grew taught.

Wild joined Four at the base of the cliff and stared up at the challenge before them.

“You're not going to tell me anything about how or why I was faced with four of you that day?!” He exclaimed. “Does anyone else know about it?”

“Not yet no,” Four sighed. “And I don't know if I want anyone else to know. What happened with you was a one off. I try not to use the Four Sword if I can. The more I use it the more - complicated my mind becomes.”

“Does it affect you that much when you use it?” Wild frowned.

“Look, I'm not up for talking right now,” Four sighed. “Can we just climb, then maybe we can talk after.”

“Er, sure. You think you can handle a climb like this?” Wild asked, throwing a smile at Four in an attempt to lighten the souring mood.

“You just stand back and watch an old master, young one!” Four remarked, waggling his eyebrows before practically launching himself three feet up and grasping the wall.

Wild watched with silent awe as Four scaled the first few metres of the cliff. Easily scrambling over the lower boulders and onto the near sheer face of the rock wall. Just before their rope grew taught, Wild leapt up and grabbed a rock jutting out from the cliff. In a few strides he came level with Four, shooting the smithy a grin before he overtook him.

Four huffed and shook his head. Wild had longer legs than him, and he was pretty sure his climbing gear actually made him a better climber. Four called that cheating. He pressed on, endeavouring to keep up with the older teen.

Silent moments stretched out between them. Wild always stayed a few feet above Four, neither of them hardly ever slowing down. Four’s fingers ached with the long forgotten strain, but his body was buzzing with the thrill of hanging from the rock face. He chanced a glance down to the side. His stomach leapt as he realised just how high they had climbed. Four estimated they were at least thirty metres up already, with another forty to go at least.

He was far from deterred however, if anything, staring up at the cliff top high above him only exhilarated him. Goddesses how he missed this feeling. The freeing sensation that came from exploring just for the sake of it. Four supposed that was why Wild and Hyrule were always sneaking off. They weren't trying to cause trouble for the group, they were just curious. Curiosity which leads to moments like this.

“You good?” Wild called down, when he realised Four had stopped.

“Huh? Oh, yeah, I just haven't done this in a while. I kinda forgot how much fun it is.” Four replied, earning him a wide smile from his companion.

“Yeah, it was one of the first things I remembered how to do when I woke up. When I was too weak to fight I could always outclimb the monsters. Anyway, come on, let's get to the top.”

Four nodded, quickly processing the nugget of information Wild had given him. After that the pair resumed their comfortable silence. Rocks scraped knees and finger tips. Heavy breathing and the pounding of blood in their ears were the only sounds accompanying them on their climb. The occasional breeze tugged at their clothes and ruffled their hair, but neither were deterred. The ground dropped further and further away as the sky came ever closer.

“Need a hand?” Four heard Wild ask after a while.

The smithy frowned, he hadn't zoned out and stopped again. Why would Wild think he needed help? Looking up, Four found Wild smiling down at him from where he stood at the top of the cliff. THE TOP! Four stared. He had been so focused on the climb, putting one hand and foot above the other, he hadn't realised just how far they had gone.

He huffed a laugh and accepted Wild's outstretched hand. With a grunt Wild pulled Four over the edge and onto the soft grass at the top of the cliff.

“Wow! That was brilliant!” Four panted, a little out of breath but not winded.

“Yeah! Thanks for coming with me. I usually climb alone, but it was actually nice to have company.” Wild agreed, beginning to untie the rope connecting them.

“I didn't slow you down too much?” Four teased, though in truth he was a little worried he had.

Wild shook his head as he unhooked his slate and pulled out two bottles of water and an apple each. He tossed the rope inside which disappeared in a swirl of vivid blue.

“Slow me down! I was just keeping pace with you!” Wild scoffed, he sounded surprised. “I take it you used to do this a lot?”

“Occasionally yeah,” Four shrugged, taking the water and the snack. “I kinda forgot how much fun it was. We used to do it a lot together.”

“We?” Wild asked, intrigued.

“Oh, my um, the four of me,” Four replied, turning away as he realised his slip up.

“You can talk to me about it if you want,” Wild suggested cautiously.

He kept his body language open and his tone casual, hoping Four might open up to him. Four appreciated Wild’s relaxed nature. Perhaps he should have gotten to know him better sooner than this. Of all his brothers, Four was beginning to realise Wild seemed the most open to new things. Owing no doubt to his memory loss, but also to his sense of adventure and natural curiosity. The others all had their secrets too, but Wild was an open book. He had told the Chain most, if not all that he could remember of his old life.

Wild’s tales of his adventures were some of their favourites to hear around the campfire. Most ended with fire and explosions, those were Wind’s favourites. But others featured his close friends and allies, some he had lost, but others he had made on his journey.

It occurred to Four then that he and Wars weren’t the only heroes who had worked with others on their quests. Wild had allies he could call upon too. Whether it was gifts granted by the other champions spirits, or the newly formed group of sages, Wild was used to a team.

As Four turned the apple in his hands, he looked past Wild towards the clouds drifting over the horizon. The great orb of the sun had begun to dip during their climb. It was still a long way off sunset, but the sky had taken on that soft hue of late afternoon. Soon the clouds would be painted with hundreds of different colours, all shining out in celebration of the day.

“Would you,” Four paused, eyes dropping to the apple in his hands. He let out a breath. “Would you like to meet them properly?”

Four finally turned and looked up at Wild, watching his expression for signs of hesitation. However, Wild could sense Four’s own trepidation from a mile off. This was clearly a big deal for the smithy. He hadn’t mentioned his other selves or the Four Sword to anyone since his altercation with Wild. Perhaps this really was something he preferred to keep secret? Yet he had offered to share it with Wild.

“I’d really like that Four,” Wild nodded. “As long as you’re sure.”

“Yeah, I could do with getting them out of my head for a while anyway!” Four sighed, a wave of relief washing over him as he reached for the sword on his back.

Wild watched in awe as Four drew his blade and held it over his head. He was briefly blinded by a flash of white light which engulfed the smaller hero. As the light faded and Wild dared to open his eyes again, he found Four no longer stood before him. Instead, four different versions of his brother, wearing different coloured tunics stood facing him.

“We’ll give you a minute to panic,” said the Four in purple.

“No, I’m okay. I think I panicked enough the first time you did this.” Wild said, with a shake of his head. “So, what do I call all of you? I assume you don’t all go by Link, or Four?”

“Yeah, you guys weren’t the first ones to have to come up with nicknames for yourselves!” The four in blue scoffed.

“Not that ours were very creative,” added the ruby coloured four.

“True,” green four nodded with dismay.

“Okay, wait wait!” Wild insisted, holding up his hands.

The Fours stared at him with mixed expressions of concern and impatience.

“Can you tell me what to call you. You all sound just like Four!”

“Right,” said the green four. “Like Blue said, we weren’t very creative with our nicknames. So blue tunic is Blue, red is Red, purple is Violet…”

“Vio for short!” Vio cut in.

“Yes, Vio. And you can call me Green.”

“Inspired,” Wild grinned.

As the colours interacted and talked over each other, Wild began to notice subtle differences between them. Green seemed the most assertive, Red looked relaxed and curious about their surroundings. Vio and Blue meanwhile had stepped away from each other. Clearly not all of Four got along with himself.

Wild struggled to come to terms with that sentence even as he thought it.

“It’s nice to meet you properly Wild, I’m so sorry about how it happened last time. Four only did what he thought was necessary to protect Twilight.” Red said softly, hands clasped as he stepped forwards.

“It’s good to meet you, Red. I’m sorry too. I wasn’t my best self that day.”

“None of us were,” Green remarked.

“We’ll get that bastard Dark eventually though. One day soon he’ll slip up and we can pay him back for what he did to Twi.” Said Blue, his eyes alight with excitement at the thought of revenge.

Wild realised then that he had seen that expression on Four’s face before. Could this really be how Four’s actions and thoughts were influenced? Where did Four end and the colours begin? Wild decided these were probably not the right questions for their first interaction.

“It’s a beautiful day, perhaps we should watch the sun go down,” suggested Red.

The others all turned and looked to the west. Forests, rivers and roads spread out beneath them from their vantage point at the top of the world. Or so it felt to Wild at least.

“We ought to get back before dark,” Vio pointed out. “But there’s at least four hours until the sun is actually due to set, so I suppose we have time.”

Surprised by Vio’s evident intelligence, Wild recalled all the times he had seen Four with his nose stuck in a book. The smithy was brilliant at his job; Wild had yet to find an armourer in his time whose work would rival Four’s. But metal work wasn’t Four’s only skill. Perhaps Vio’s intellectual attributes were what kept Four curious, constantly seeking new knowledge.

“So, how much of you guys is in Four? Is one of you Four? Or are you all Four?” Wild asked, as he dropped his legs over the edge of the cliff and let them dangle as he sat down.

Red plonked himself down beside Wild and shuffled closer until their shoulders were brushing. He pulled his legs up, loosely holding onto his crossed ankles with his hands. Green sat on Wild’s other side, Vio beside him, while Blue sat next to Red, one leg dangling over the edge.

“We’ve spent many days and nights going over those questions,” Green remarked.

“Many!” Vio added.

“What we’ve concluded is that the Four Sword split Link into four of his strongest traits, kindness, courage, intelligence, and strategy. We are all Link, but at the same time none of us are Link, get it?” Green tried to explain, with much gesticulating and squinted expressions.

More features Wild recognised from Four.

“No, I don’t really get it,” Wild shook his head.

“Nether do we. But we’ve made it work,” Blue shrugged.

“We get along like brothers,” Red spoke up, leaning into Wild a little more. “We have our differences, we argue and we even fall out sometimes. But our connection is deeper than the spell that divided us. We’re all parts of a whole, even divided like this, we’re still connected through the sword.”

“What’s it like for Four?” Wild asked, his brain working at a mile a minute to process all of this information. While at the same time trying to learn the mannerisms of four essentially new people.

“It’s noisy!” Vio declared.

“It can feel a bit cramped sometimes,” Green agreed. “When the Four Sword split us, its effects weren’t entirely reversible. When we come together as Link the four of us are still semi conscious within him.”

“You ever notice Four staring into space, or just zoning out?” Blue asked. He pulled at a tuft of grass and watched it blow away on a soft breeze.

“Yeah…” Wild said apprehensively.

“That’s probably the four of us arguing in his head and Four can’t process it fast enough,” Blue continued.

“The three of you!” Red clarified. “I hardly ever argue with any of you!”

“Yeah sure, you never argue over anything,” Vio replied, with more than a hint of sarchasm in his voice.

“Sounds like a nightmare,” Wild uttered.

He considered what it might be like to have multiple voices in his head. Listening to the Chain argue was bad enough sometimes. What in Hyrule would it be like to have different parts of himself arguing all the time?

“It’s not so bad, Blue likes to exaggerate. You should hear him tell stories about our fights. The enemies double each time he tells a story!” Green chuckled good naturedly.

“But we’re never alone,” Red said, trying to shine a positive light on the situation.

“For better or worse, yes,” Vio agreed. “None of us will ever be alone again.”

Wild had been alone when he woke up in that cave. He had been alone as he explored Hyrule, a world he couldn’t remember. He was alone in his efforts to save Zelda, a woman he only had vague memories of. Alone in the Divine Beats. Alone at night. Alone fighting the Calamity.

What Wild wouldn’t have given for even an argumentative companion on his adventure. Someone to share in his perils. He had Wolfie occasionally. But even though Wild could talk to him, Wolfie couldn’t talk back. He couldn’t provide encouragement or praise, only cold looks and the occasionally happy sounding ‘boof’.

“That sounds kinda nice.” Wild uttered, his gaze dropping from the vast horizon.

The colours shared glances around Wild until they settled on a collective thought. Blue got up from his spot and sat behind Red, throwing an arm over Wild’s shoulder. Likewise, Vio moved into a similar position on Wild’s other side. Red finally gave into his urges and wrapped his arms around Wild’s middle. Meanwhile Green wove his fingers into Wild’s hand.

“You’re not alone anymore Link.”

[woniverse-writes]

“Backfired Birthday”

bada lee x reader

summary: trying to surprise bada for her birthday with a cake and decorations, but it goes horribly wrong

word count: 2.2k

warnings: uhm they shower together but it's cute and wholesome, slight angst?? reader lowkey has a breakdown, not proofread

notes: I FINALLY MANAGED TO WRITE A SHORT FIC LET'S FUCKING GOOOOOOO- also, the other Bada birthday fic will be posted later, seeing as it's technically ready to post now, but I wanna add a little more spice to it lol

The week leading up to Bada’s birthday had gone really well- you would even say it was perfect! You had everything set in stone and were determined to give her the best birthday ever, especially since it was the first one you were celebrating as a couple. You two had been friends for the last few years, having met through dance. You were both choreographers and instructors for Just Jerk Academy and got to know each other through another dancer from the studio. When Howl had said he wanted to introduce you two to each other, neither really knew what to expect, you assuming that Bada and him were a thing, and her assuming the same of you and him. So it came as a shock when he set you two up on a date and claimed he was trying to help his girls stop being single. And here you are years later, happier than ever, preparing for your now girlfriend's birthday. 

When you woke up that morning, you made sure to get up a little earlier than usual to prepare an extra special breakfast for your lovely girlfriend. it was storming severely outside and it eventually got so bad that the power went out- cutting the line for your toaster, your fridge, your microwave, and your electric stove. You were so disappointed in your failed breakfast that you ended up just going to lay back in bed with Bada, who gladly accepted your warmth as you snuggled your way back into her arms.

The two of you woke up again, together this time, about an hour later. The power had seemed to come back on at some point, although it was still raining pretty hard outside. You ended up making a simple breakfast and ate together quickly before Bada had to head off to the studio for some lessons today. You made sure not to take on any classes in order to prepare all the festivities and gifts for your girlfriend, in order for her to have the most relaxing and satisfying birthday when she got off work.

The first thing you did was head to the store to pick up some ingredients for a cake, as well as look for a nice champagne or wine that would make the evening even more romantic. After getting the basic ingredients, you spent the next 45 minutes stressing over whether you should get champagne or wine, reeling you knew nothing about your girlfriend’s more refined drinking preferences. Eventually, you decided just to skip the alcohol (even though you definitely felt like you needed some right about now) and move on to the checkout.

After the unnecessarily long shopping trip, you made your way to the floral shop to pick up the arrangement you had ordered a week ago. When you arrived, an older lady who seemed to have been working there a long time was working the front register. You went up to her and let her know you were there to pick up an order. She scanned through her system and looked confused briefly before asking if it could be under a different name. After you shook your head, she asked for your phone number and email address to track your receipt, but nothing came up again. 

You were beginning to panic until a younger-looking girl walked about from the back and the older lady flagged her down.

“Marcia, do you remember if you took this young lady’s order any time recently?” the older woman asked turning stiffly toward the younger worker, who tensed up and flitted her eyes back and forth between you and her manager.

“Uhm… I think so…” The older woman sighed shortly and asked

“Well did you give her any sort of receipt?” to which the younger girl shook her head and looked like she was about to cry, but to be honest you were too. Things were quickly starting to fall apart and you could feel it. After about 30 minutes of searching, they ended up not being able to find any sort of receipt to show your order was taken, but the younger employee admitted to having taken your order earlier that week and not giving you a receipt, so the older lady, who you assumed to be the shop owner, offered to whip something up for you at a discounted price of what you would've originally paid, to which you accepted, then had to immediately decline after hse told you it would be ready after Bada would've already gotten home.

Leaving the flower shop and heading back home, you tried to focus on the tasks at hand, which were decorating and baking Bada’s birthday cake. As you pulled into the driveway, the rain picked up again, soaking you as you got out of your car and grabbed all the groceries from the back of your trunk. While you were trying to walk as fast as possible, a stray cat ran out from one of the bushes in front of your house, startling you so badly, that you dropped the bag with all the decorations in it, spilling them onto the concrete, causing them to get soaked in the rain and some covered in mud, leaving them unusable. You tried to pick them up and quickly make your way inside to assess the damage and hopefully still be able to use some of the decorations, but you had no luck seeing as they were so damp and stained with dirt that there was barely anything left from what could've been saved anyways.

You let out the biggest sigh ever and threw your head back with a groan. You told yourself it was okay, seeing as you still had about three and a half hours until Bada would be home, and in that time all you had to do was bake a cake, seeing as you had no champagne or decorations to prepare. But that also made you realize you hadn’t gotten her a present or even a card. 

In a state of absolute panic, you slipped your shoes on and ran back out to your, starting the engine and swiftly backing out of your driveway. You ran to the nearest store, which happened to be the one you had already visited today for the cake ingredients, and picked up a birthday card. Soon after that, you ran to the mall and spent the next 45 minutes trying to decide between getting Bada a new jersey or a new pair of sneakers. You didn’t feel as if either was enough to showcase how much you loved her, so you just bought both, not even worrying about your bank account at the moment.

Once you made it back home for the second time, you immediately set the oven to pre-heat while you began preparing the batter. You have an hour and a half now before Bada gets home, so it’s crunch time. You still wanted to shower and change into a cute outfit so you’d be all ready for when she got home, but thought that was a bad idea since you were in the middle of baking. The cake batter was coming together nicely until the power suddenly went out again in the middle of you mixing the batter. You let out a mix of a scream and a groan in frustration. 

The power suddenly turned back on a few moments later, which you weren’t prepared for- especially since your mixer decided to turn back on as well while didn’t have a grip on it, sending the bowl flying off the counter and batter to splatter everywhere- all over the walls, the counters, and covering you as well. You let out a shocked scream as it happened and immediately reached to unplug the mixer, frozen in shock afterwards.

You felt like such a terrible girlfriend as you stood in the messy kitchen, wondering how you were gonna clean up the chaos and yourself before Bada got home. She had no cake, no decorations, and You couldn’t even get her the proper flowers. Everything just felt like a disaster, and you couldn’t help but tear up as you surveyed the mess around you.

You didn’t even hear the door unlock, only noticing your girlfriend swinging the door open and walking through after she had already closed the door and locked it behind her.

“Hi baby- woah, what’s going on?” the tall girl giggled and smiled lovingly at you from across the kitchen as she took off her hoodie and threw it on the back of one of the chairs. You looked around in a daze and once you made eye contact with her, you felt your lip quiver as you tried to put on a smile.

“Happy birthday my love” is what you tried to say but couldn’t even finish as you burst into tears. You felt pathetic, covered in cake batter, crying in your messy kitchen in front of Bada on her birthday. It made you cry even harder when you became self-aware and felt you were being selfish since your girlfriend probably had a long day and now here you are trying to take the attention away from her on her day.

Bada wasn’t thinking that at all though. She immediately made her way to the other side of the kitchen to wrap you in a hug and kiss your head, ignoring your protests (“You’re gonna get batter all over you-” you cried into her shoulder. “Shhh it’s okay” she shook her head and pulled you closer). You stayed that way for a while until you calmed down for the most part. When you pulled away slightly you looked up at Bada with puffy eyes and a pout, which she smiled enedaringly at and pressed a soft kiss to your lips. You began to tear up again, so disappointed in yourself for not being able to pull off something so simple. But Bada put a stop to it once again immediately.

“Princess- it’s okay” she giggled sweetly, wiping away your tears and caressing your cheek. She tucked a piece of hair behind your ear and began slowly leading you towards the bathroom.

“Why don’t we take a nice shower together, yeah?” the tall girl asked softly, still not letting go of you, making sure to have some sort of physical contact at all times while the two of you made your way around. Neither of you even bothered to grab clean clothes, heading straight for the bathroom. Bada started the shower, holding your hand and softly looking over her shoulder every few seconds to smile at you reassuringly. Once she was satisfied with the water temperature, Bada took her shirt off first, leaving her in a sports bra and cargo pants. then she proceeded to help fully undress you before taking off the rest of her clothes and ushering you both into the shower. 

You relaxed slightly under the warm water and closed your eyes, letting the droplets soak your hair and skin, already slightly cleaning you off. Bada reached behind you to grab the shampoo off one of the shelves and squirted some out into the palms of her hands before lathering it in your hair. She stood in front of you, gently tilting your head back as she continued to wash your hair, you standing with your arms wrapped around her waist, eyes still closed, finally feeling at peace for the first time that day.

After taking a little longer than expected due to getting distracted by some innocent shower kisses, you both finished helping each other clean up and hopped out from under the water which had gotten a little colder than what it was before. You playfully dry each other off, giggling and pressing sweet kisses to random areas on each other’s face, neck, and shoulder; you head back to your shared bedroom wrapped up in your fluffy towels. You sleepily pick out some clean clothes to wear, both of you only grabbing an oversized shirt and a clean pair of undergarments to sleep in. 

After getting dressed and hanging the towels back up, Bada turns off the bedside lamps, and you both snuggle up under your covers.

“I’m really sorry I couldn’t give you an amazing birthday, and that I cried the second you got home” you apologized, staring up at Bada in the dim light with sad puppy eyes. You could barely make out the loving smile on her face as she pressed a kiss to your forehead, then a couple to your cheeks, and then one to your lips.

“Don’t apologize for anything. I had an amazing birthday, simply because I got to spend even a sliver of it with you…” Bada reassured in a hushed voice, pulling you in closer to intertwin her legs with yours under the covers. She kissed you once again softly on the lips before resting her forehead against yours.

“I love you so much, and any moment I get to spend with you is already such a gift, so thank you, my sweet girl.” her sentiment and sweet words made you tear up again, but you were able to swallow it down this time.

“I love you too. Happy birthday, my love.” and you both fell asleep happily cuddled into each other, with the sound of the rain pouring outside.

permanent taglist: @uwulyn

[nightsadness]

Can I come with you?

Tags: fem!reader, angst

Pairing: Fyodor Dostoevsky x fem!reader

Warning: The death of a canon character, the reader longs greatly. There may be errors in the text, as I am not a native English speaker, I often had to use the help of a translator

A/n: I was inspired by the song "Ap$ent - Можно я с тобой? (Can I come with you?)" and wrote this headcanon based on the verses of that wonderful song. As I wrote above, I don't speak English, so I used a lot of translators, trying to write normally 😞. Please let me know if it's really bad.

Горят фонари Я бы до зари с тобой мог говорить

The street lights are on

I'd chat you up till dawn

Though you were no match for Dostoevsky in intellect, Fyodor thought you were an smart person with whom he could have a good conversation. In those rare moments when the man gave you time, you could talk for hours, mostly on quiet evenings, against the window, which was not covered by curtains, and thanks to this, the room was illuminated only by the bright light of the moon, giving its own special, peaceful atmosphere.

Но тебе снова пора Как всегда, какие-то дела с утра But it's high time for you to be gone

You've got work to do, as well known

You and Fyodor spent very little time together. You didn't like it, but there was nothing you could do about it. After all, Dostoevsky was obsessed only with his goal, and it was his first priority. You couldn't deny it. And you, no matter what, wanted to be with him and always waited for him.

Longing was your frequent companion when you felt the lack of a man's attention, but you didn't bother him, realizing the importance of his "purpose" realizing how much own plans meant to him. Every day you woke up and went to sleep alone. Though there were exceptions when Fyodor lay down with you, but, as a rule, in the early morning he was no longer in bed. And those moments were so rare that you could count them on your fingers.

Да, тут так себе вайб Видимо, пора. Ну что ж, бывай, родны край!

Yes, the vibes here're better be kept at bay

So, my land, bye-bye! Seams, it's time to go away...

That was the day. The day when you saw Fyodor for the last time in your life, but you hoped with all your might that it wasn't true. You couldn't even sleep for a few nights, thinking about him all the time. And you were not comforted by the thought that Fyodor was so damn cunning and clever, and he always had everything under control. Every day was a nightmare for you, because those damned thoughts were tormenting you from the inside.

По кустам ночной тропой Да, план отстой. Nocturnal trail is truly long

Yes, the plan is sucks

You heart sank into my heels, and there was a look of pure shock mixed with sadness on my face. You didn't want to believe that Fyodor was dead. How, HOW the hell could this have happened? Your breathing quickened at the news, and you fell helplessly to your knees, clutching your head with your hands. You'd always known his plan was a really sucks, and you'd even said Fyodor about it. But he didn't care what you thought of his goal.

To get your thoughts together, you decided to go for a walk. It was a blue night and a cool breeze was blowing. That's what you needed..

Всё давно позади Но зато есть вспомнить что и что обсудить

All in the past, the deeds we tried

But there are things to call to mind

It had been about six months, but you still wanted to be with Fyodor, to hold him again, to kiss him, to listen to him. You missed his attention, which he gave you, though rarely, but still gave it to you. Maybe he didn't really love you, and you were just a pawn...or maybe not? But that didn't bother you much. You wanted to be with him and only him. It's hard without him. So hard, such unbelievable pain. Every single day you remembered all the moments with him, that was your only consolation.

Если решишь уйти на покой Вдруг раньше, чем я — постой

If you decide to leave peace

before I do, hold on...

One day you were sitting on the roof of a high-rise building, looking up at the night sky, rubbing the pendant that Dostoevsky had given you. You never took it off, especially since the man was gone from your life. The longing was eating you from the inside out, but you had to be strong! Hah....You couldn't. Or just didn't want to, who knows. Your gaze was downward, the city seemed so small, and people walked around below like ants. Building was too high and you were sitting on the very edge. but it didn't scare you.

— Можно я с тобой?

nightsadness © 2024

[subtle-as-an-earthquake]

So I know this post is pretty overdue and a bit superfluous by this point maybe, but since I am now back home and finally have time to sit down and write down my thoughts about the last few days, I thought I'd still do a recap post of my experience of the Dublin shows (and a bit about my trip to Dublin in general). Just for anyone who might be interested or even just for me to remember everything by!

Having said that though, I don’t actually know how to even begin putting into words what this trip meant to me 🥺 I’ve said this before, but after seeing them in June and thinking that was it for the foreseeable future, getting to see them again so soon, twice, and it being the very last two shows of the tour as well, felt like an incredible opportunity and huge gift and I could not be more grateful for it ❤️

Recap of Dublin shows 3 & 4 and some more pics below the cut!

I flew in from Amsterdam on Tuesday morning with a Dutch friend, and we met up with another friend of mine who flew in from London at the same time (my London friend went with me to Tuesday's gig, and my Amsterdam friend to Thursday's gig)

London friend and I then headed to the 3Arena to queue up outside and it was fucking freezing lmao. But we played ‘guess the Arctic Monkeys song from the intro’ and had a chance to catch up so all in all it wasn’t too bad, and it’s always so much fun being surrounded by fellow arctic monkeys fans who love them enough to queue up for hours in the cold <3

Once we were inside, we legged it to the stage and then spent another two hours trying to defend our (pretty good, very central) spots and trying not to think about the fact that we had to pee, as you do. We happened to be standing next to a group of Dutch speaking girls, and it turned out one of them had also met Miles in Amsterdam recently, at the same signing I’d been at! Such a small world. But they were really lovely so the two hours flew past, and then it was Miles time!!!!! 🥰

And my god, he literally blew everyone away, he was just insanely good as always. My friend was not really a Miles fan before the gig, and then while he was playing, she kept going “holy shit minnie he’s so good??” and I was like “TOLD YOU”, so now she’s a big fan as well, which is honestly very satisfying 😌 There were so many amazing moments during his set, but the one that stayed with me most I’ve already talked about in this post. It was honestly just…. very intense and really hard to explain in a non-shippy way? Even my non-shipper friend was like… hmm ok yes, that seems very significant 🤔

But anyway, Miles rocked the house, and then it was only a short wait until the main show. And while most of it is a blur because I just lose my mind when I see my boys play, I did make sure to really absorb some special moments and things I really wanted to remember. Being able to clearly see Alex’s intense, goofy and beautiful facial expressions, his HANDS, the cute little interactions he had with the rest of the band (giggles with Matt and smiley asides with Jamie and Nick), the moment where Alex made grabby hands at the plushie and then laughed some more when he couldn’t have it, Jamie being an absolute rockstar as always, Nick looking like a total snack (my friend has a giant crush on Nick, understandably so), Matt being a literal drum god (I love seeing him play SO much). Just... incredible 🙌🏻💘

I really wasn’t expecting Miles to join them during that show, so when Alex gave him a shoutout I knew it was just that, but my friend didn’t, so she started hitting me like “he’s coming back!” and I was like “no he’s not”, and he wasn’t unfortunately lmao. The Dutch and Belgian girls next to me were extremely disappointed (they were Milex shippers as well, of course), but I know at least one of them was there on Thursday as well so I love that for her. Other memorable moments were Alex singing the “remember when you used to be a rascal” line followed by “do you remember? I remember” after which I yelled at my friend “Miles used to be a rascal!!!” and then later I found out Miles was actually on that side of the stage 😭😭 Even though I didn’t find out about that until later, I definitely noticed that Alex kept gesturing towards that side of the stage (the Star Treatment intermezzo was wild, I was like, “WHO is he pointing at for the dolls like you and me thing??” And then it turned out to be Miles 🫠

Another thing I noticed was that the average age of the crowd was way lower than I’m used to it being, which my friend explained may have something to do with tiktok? Lmao idk, hut the the standing crowd did mostly consist of younger, shorter girls for some reason lol, so there wasn’t as much jumping as I’d have liked there to be. My friend and I just went for it regardless, even if we were some of the only people going crazy. But you just have to, you know what I mean? Anyway, it was such an incredible show and after it ended, we were just on cloud nine, singing Fluorescent Adolescent with everyone on the Luas going back to town, which is always just such a blast. And then we ended up in Temple Bar where there was more live music as well as about 500 other Arctic Monkeys fans, so that was great fun too 💫

The next day, the three of us went to a tattoo shop where I’d booked an appointment and I got my tattoo which I am EXTREMELY happy with. The tattoo artist was a girl from Brazil and when she asked me about the meaning of my tattoo (I’ll post a pic later) I told her it was an Arctic Monkeys song and the just yelled across the shop to a few other artists and it turned out they’d been at the concert too, so we all geeked out about them while I got my tattoo done lmao, so much fun 😂

Then my London friend unfortunately had to fly back home later that day, so my Amsterdam friend and I ended up in the pub again because that’s what we do. It was just a very average pub with two very average men playing amazing folk music, and when we walked in, I was like “huh that guy looks like Zackery Michael, that’s funny.” And then later I was stood next to him at the bar and heard he was American, so I was like hmmm, and decided to just ask him if he was in fact Zackery Michael. He was like “that is me!” lol (thank god, would’ve been embarrassing if it hadn’t been) so we had a little chat about the fact that we were both in town for Arctic Monkeys but in slightly different capacities lol, and he was just super nice and was happy to take a photo with me, and then I let him get back to his conversation with the three extremely pretty girls he was with 😅

Anyways, so then on Thursday after breakfast we bought some souvenirs and I bought some great Arctic Monkeys mini posters and some other stuff at this lovely little comic book/record store which was playing Humbug, the owner of which told us he also went to see Arctic Monkeys on Tuesday and loved them, so that was another amazing chance meeting 💜 And then it was after 12pm so it was time for whiskey, and then the meeting with the fellow TLSP/Arctic Monkeys/Miles Kane fan bartender happened which I posted about here, which was so lovely and also secretly made me want to believe it was a sign for the show that night 🙈

But I still couldn’t let myself hope or believe TOO much, so I just kept telling my friend “they’re not going to do it and that’s okay” and she was like “sure, whatever you say” 😂 We had seated tickets for this gig, so we were unfortunately much further away than I had been on Tuesday. And also I just don’t like being seated at concerts, let alone an Arctic Monkeys one, but to be honest, the seats were pretty good. Miles once again gave his absolute all and converted not just my Dutch friend as well, but also a lot of the people around us who we overheard saying things like “did you know he was this good??” and checking Miles’s Wikipedia page, which was great to see. And from up on the balcony we could clearly see that the people in the crowd were really singing along and having an amazing time during Miles’s set (COTT was extremely emotional, all the lights were so lovely ✨️) and I just felt so proud of him and happy for him that it was such a roaring success 🥹💖

The roaring success continued for Arctic Monkeys of course, although it was really weird to see so many people go mental for Snap Out Of It and Arabella etc. 😅 But yeah, the people do love AM it seems, which is why the first part of the setlist was pretty much the same as it had been on Tuesday. Hello You was amazing though!! And then after There’d Better Be a Mirrorball, I knew that it was 505 time, and Alex did say ‘Let’s hear it for Miles Kane’. But because it was the same thing he’d said before, I was still convinced Miles wouldn’t come on. AND THEN HE DID 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 I absolutely lost my shit, not even kidding. I just started screaming and threw my phone at my poor friend being like “FILM IT” which she did, bless her heart, and uhhh, yeah then I cried throughout the whole performance 😭 And then at the end, the lights went out and I saw their shadows (our shadow puppets <3) coming together so I was like did they hug??? And then I only found out later that evening when I checked tumblr that they in fact did hug and then my night was just completely made (lol, I say my night but I mean my life, obviously)

Do I Wanna Know was a total blur after that of course, but I was back for Body Paint which was absolutely incredible as always. And then they did Big Ideas as the encore and uuhhh yeah I sobbed 🙃 It was SO beautiful, and so special hearing it live with the strings, and SO fucking sad. And then once RU Mine? finished and the lights stayed off, I was like aaahhh we’re getting one more!! And then OF COURSE it was Perfect Sense because Alex is a dramatic bastard, and of course I cried some more. It was stunning and extremely emotional 💔

So then my friend and I went to drown my sorrows (and elation about the Milex reunion) in the pub and we actually had a great time with some fellow AM fans and live music again. I swear it was like all of Dublin was just there for Arctic Monkeys. Unfortunately, we were not in the pub where the boys apparently went ugh, but still, it was fun. And yesterday morning I woke up with a killer hangover so I swore I would not drink anymore, but it was raining so much, so we did end up in the pub again where we got talking to some really cool Irish guys who (surprise) also loved Arctic Monkeys, and they insisted on buying us drinks so obviously I couldn’t decline. So we just sat and drank with them until we had to catch our flight, and of course by that time I was tipsy and maudlin and the weather wasn’t helping so I cried all the way to the airport (especially since we passed the arena again) and then I cried some more in the airport like the drama queen I am 🥲

It’s just that I’m so sad it’s over, and so scared and worried about the future of the band, with how much this felt like a goodbye 😔 But I’m just going to assume that it’s just goodbye for now, and that they’ll take a well-deserved break, maybe do their own things for a while, and that in a few years’ time they’ll get back to making music together again. I really do think they have so much fun doing what they do together, and they’re basically like family, and Alex wouldn’t know what to do with himself if he couldn’t make music, so surely they’ll be back eventually. But please, just don’t be too long boys 🥺🙏🏻❤️

All in all, though, what has stayed with me most from this trip is a sense of gratefulness that I was lucky enough to experience all this, my 8th and 9th Arctic Monkeys gigs to date, the last dates of the tour, the Milex reunion (!!!!!!!) and to get to share it with two of my best friends in the world, a whole bunch of arctic monkeys loving strangers who I randomly met, and all of you guys I’ve met on here these past few months. The sense of connection and community I’ve found through this band means so much to me, more than I can say, actually, and I’m so grateful to them for that, in addition to the music they’ve given us. And although the tour is over, I am honestly looking forward to sharing the love we have for them with you all for a long time to come and for now, I am so excited about getting back to writing my silly little Milex stories (and insanely happy they finally gave us that little reunion we hope for, so that I’m still excited and hopeful about their relationship rather than heartbroken and resigned, which is what I probably would’ve been if they hadn’t performed together. So thank you for that, boys 💘)

So yes. Very, VERY long story short: Arctic Monkeys is and always will be my favourite band in the world, they ended the tour on an absolute high (and with Miles!) and this was an experience I will never, ever forget ❤️

[endofradio]

FRAGMENTS OF FEAR — CHAPTER 1: BLUE EYES

PREVIOUS CHAPTER

WARNINGS: n/a

NOTES: pinkie promise there will be longer chapters eventually it’s just my brain has been feeling kinda. Bleh.

SUMMARY: sylvie and frank meet again, but not in the way either of them would’ve expected.

WORD COUNT: 1,336

TAGS: @reclaimedbythesea @shawsfinalgirl @creelmalfoylaufeyson69 @witchy-weve-monbebe @atcarpenter @blackwolfstabs @simpingforclaudette @maggotssmichael

“I’m a human fly, and I don’t know why, I got 96 tears and 96 eyes.”

Sylvie sat cross-legged on the floor of her bedroom, surrounded by a variety of drawing supplies. A Cramps record was spinning on her record player as she spent time with her sketchbook. On her bedroom wall, various drawings and paintings of hers were scattered around. For her, art was a form of therapy, along with writing.

Sylvie had spent the past few years trying to make an effort to rebuild her life, but some nights had been rougher than others, tonight being one of those nights. It started with waking up from a nightmare about her adoptive parents, and from that point on, she was stuck with the all-too-familiar process of dwelling on her past. If she could’ve gone back and changed things, she would’ve. Would’ve, should’ve, could’ve…

When Sylvie thought about her past, she often found herself thinking about Adam. It had been five years since she last saw his face, yet she remembered him very well. She could envision his cocky grin and his cold blue gaze that seemed to see through her soul. Sylvie was not one to forget people who had left an effect on her, and Adam was definitely one of those individuals.

She could just hear his voice — that smart-ass, smooth-talking Queens accent. Every word that came out of his mouth made her just want to punch him. He was a vulgar and perverted son of a bitch, flirting and teasing her even when he had a ring on his finger.

“I’ll let you out early if you give me a little kiss,” he had once said. Of course, Sylvie shot back with a “fuck off.”

As she sat there drawing, she was suddenly hit by a pang of loneliness. In a way, Adam had made her feel more alone than she already did. The attention he gave her — even though it was bad — was still attention, which was something she had never received. Adam was able to see right through her, pinpoint her weaknesses, and figure out how to trigger them. The more Sylvie thought about him, the more she realized that maybe she could’ve been attached to Adam in her confusing way. As miserable as he made her feel, at least he still gave her attention.

Stop thinking about him. Sylvie told herself. Neither of you two give a shit about each other.

As she tried to center her focus back on drawing, Sylvie could only continue to think about how pathetic her own life seemed to her. Here she was, sitting alone in her apartment with no friends and no family, just listening to music and drawing. She stared at what was the current state of her drawing — a shrieking cat with an arrow piercing through its heart. In her opinion, the cat represented her. That was why she drew it.

As Sylvie took out a black colored pencil, her head perked up as she heard a faint noise. Her eyes nervously darted around, only to see nothing. Maybe I’m just hearing things.

She started to color in her drawing, and that was when she started to hear faint footsteps. Why would someone be in her apartment, especially at this hour? There was nobody that wanted to visit her.

Confused, Sylvie slowly stood up and began to quietly walk out of her bedroom, peeking from around a corner. Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted a figure dressed in all-black. “Who… who’s there…?” She weakly asked.

Fuck. I shouldn’t have said anything.

Quickly, Sylvie retreated to her room, sitting with her back pressed up against the wall.

She looked up and saw the same figure standing in the doorway, but could only see part of the figure's face.

The figure spoke, and Sylvie felt as if she were trapped in another nightmare.

“Y’know, you should’ve left your door locked. Not too smart.”

Yeah, she’d recognize that snide voice from anywhere. She needed to see if she was right, though, as much as she didn’t want to believe it.

“Who… are you…?”

The man pulled down his mask, and Sylvie’s face turned to a whiter shade of pale. “A… Adam…?”

He pulled his mask back up. “Frank.” He corrected.

Sylvie couldn’t comprehend any of this. What happened to him being a detective? What was with the new name? Cop-turned-criminal… the irony.

“What the fuck…” She whispered, feeling her heart starting to race. “What… what do you want?”

“It’s simple,” Frank answered, his voice cold. He took a few steps closer to Sylvie, and that was when she could tell it was him. The blue eyes said it all.

“Don’t fight, and it’ll be over before you can even blink.”

Sylvie watched in terror as Frank reached into the pocket of his black slacks, pulling out a syringe containing a clear liquid. “What the fuck… is that…?” she asked, her voice shaking.

Frank shifted even closer to Sylvie. Standing right in front of her, he crouched down to her level, holding the syringe in front of her face. “Don’t worry. You’ll have a pleasant slumber.”

“You don't have to do this,” Sylvie whispered. She could feel her body shaking like a leaf as she stared at the syringe. “I won’t… I won’t tell anyone.”

“Oh, I have to do this,” Frank responded. “Just shut up, and let me do my job, yeah?”

Before she could say anything else, Frank covered Sylvie’s mouth with a gloved hand, muffling her screams. She tried to escape, but in response, he held her down. “Don’t make this difficult.” He hissed.

As Sylvie saw the syringe come closer to her neck, she quickly grabbed Frank’s arm in a frantic attempt to pull him away. His patience dwindling, Frank aggressively pulled his arm away. “Stop fuckin’ fighting!” He snapped. “I don’t wanna fuckin’ hurt you, Sylvie, but I might just have to if you don’t cut the bullshit.”

Sylvie. Jesus Christ, it really was him.

Then, in one quick motion, Frank stuck the needle into Sylvie’s neck, pushing down the plunger as the tranquilizer slowly entered her system. Slowly, she began to relax, and her breathing began to slow, her vision turning foggy.

Once Sylvie finally slipped out of consciousness, Frank picked her up and slung her over his shoulder, casually walking out of the apartment as though nothing had happened. Dean was waiting in the van, smoking a joint.

“How’d it go?” He asked, a smug grin on his face.

“Fine.” Frank curtly responded. “Open the door.”

Dean shuffled out of the van and headed over to the back, opening the door so Frank could place Sylvie in the back seat. Once she was completely taken care of, Frank went to get in the passenger’s seat, slamming the door shut.

“Start driving.” He muttered, coldly staring at Dean. “We got her.”

“Jesus, man. Are you always in a bad mood?”

Frank rolled his eyes. Yeah, he wasn’t the happiest person, but he also just simply loved telling people what to do.

Once the two arrived back at the mansion, Frank entered as if nothing had happened, carrying Sylvie in his arms to a bedroom where she could rest.

“Uh… who’s that?” Sammy asked, her eyes narrowing in confusion. “I thought it was just one person we were kidnapping…”

Dean shrugged. “Boss-man forgot somebody.”

“But…”

Once Frank found an available bedroom, he walked over to the bed and placed Sylvie down on it in a surprisingly gentle manner. He couldn’t help but look at her for perhaps a little too long, with a whirlwind of emotions and thoughts running through his mind. Maybe it was the fact that he hadn't seen her in five years, but Sylvie didn't even seem real to Frank, even though she still looked the same.

What the fuck am I doing?

Sighing, Frank turned around and left, quietly closing the door behind him.

[inadaydream99]

Even When You Were Invisible

Based on the movie The Princess Diaries (2001)

NCT Dream Jisung x fem reader, fluff

A/N - so I recently rewatched The Princess Diaries and just had to write this into a oneshot. This focuses more onto the budding romance side-plot of the film, so I’ve taken some liberties and adapted the narrative a bit. This is also unedited for now - please excuse any spelling/grammar mistakes!

Disclaimer: I have used a direct quote from the film which is in italics. I am not trying to replicate the film, just use the plot as inspiration. I do not take any credit for this plot. This does not represent any of the members in real life and is for entertainment purposes only. Jaemin’s character does not reflect him and is purely to fulfil the shallow character he plays. Mild use of language (like 5 swears, maybe??)

“How’s my baby?” You gleam at Jisung, catching him off guard from where he’d been so focused on tinkering around with the car engine in front of him. He bolts upright beside you, quickly grabbing hold of the car bonnet and slamming it down before reaching into his pocket to pull out the rag he uses to wipe off the engine oil from his hands.

“All good.” His voice comes out strained, watching as your smile somehow grows wider. He observes the way your hand smooths over the shiny baby blue metal of the car, gazing into the way it reflects your loving expression.

“Well, she looks amazing.” Your eyes flicker up to meet his, watching the way his Adam’s apple bops. “Thank you, Sungie.”

“Oh, it was really no problem…” he gushes, playing down all the turmoil your precious car has given him over the last few weeks. Not that Jisung ever plans on telling you about all the extra hours he’s spent fixing up your car for you. He doesn’t mind at all. He spends most of his free time at the garage anyway because his band is also allowed to practice there in return for Jisung helping out repair some cars.

It’d be a dead giveaway to all of the feelings he has towards you and he also knows you’d insist on paying him extra for his time if you knew when you’ve already put every penny of your savings into repairing the car you’d worked so hard to get.

Besides, with the way you look at him now, radiating so much adoration, Jisung feels it’s more than enough compensation for his hard work.

“You’re the best!” You reach out to ruffle his hair the second he ducks his head shyly from your compliment. Whispered giggles tumbling from his lips as his cheeks burn. “Can I pick her up tomorrow after school?” You shine those big doe-like eyes at him.

“No problem.” Jisung nods, smiling warmly. And he watches you skip out of the garage with so much excitement, shouting a “see you at school!” over your shoulder. Just as you have left his line of sight, Jisung is called over by his band mates for practice. And while they spend the rest of the evening playing their songs, Jisung continues to replay your interaction over in his mind. Damn, he’s down bad for you.

You reach home quicker than usual, thanks to the spring in your step from Jisung’s amazing work with your baby. You’re so unbelievably excited to finally be able to drive your dream car. You’ve wanted a baby blue mustang since you can remember, so you’d scraped all of your savings from your part time job together to buy the old beaten up car and payed the garage where Jisung works to make your car dreams come true.

“That you honey?” You hear your mom call as you walk further into your house. She sends you a smile over her shoulder when your bag clatters onto the kitchen table. Picking up an apple from the fruit bowl as you watch her refocus on the painting before her.

“Did you get another commission?” You speak through half-chewed apple.

“Uh-huh.” You mom hums, placing down her brush carefully onto the tray beside her easel before turning to you. “Who knew posting my art online would rake in so much work?”

“I did.” You tease, taking another bite of your apple.

Your mom shakes her head at you while rinsing her hands in the sink. All the while, you push yourself away from the counter, grabbing your bag to begin heading to your room.

“(Y/N), wait!” Your mom calls just as you reach the stairs. “Your grandmother called today. The live one.” Your mom adds upon seeing your shock.

“The one I’ve never met?” You tilt your head in confusion, bushy eyebrows furrowing. “What would she suddenly want?”

“She said she wants to have tea with you after school tomorrow.” Your mom explains. “Something about important news she needs to share with you.”

“Oh, I was supposed to pick up my car tomorrow… but I guess I’ll have to rain check.”

That was two weeks ago now and little did you know at the time how much your life was about to change.

The following afternoon, when you’d arrived at your estranged grandmothers house - or should you say mansion - you’d had your world flipped upside down.

“A-a Princess-” your mouth hangs agape, unable to comprehend the situation at hand. Your eyes dart around the room, looking from your grandmother to her staff, then the security, before finally landing back on your grandmothers perfectly calm expression. She’s not joking. “No no no nonononono." You shake your head.

“You’ve got the wrong person. I’m the furthest thing from a princess. Look at me!”

-

As it turns out, they did not have the wrong person. Your father, who you’d never met, had been heir to the throne of the small European country you’d never heard of and after his death, that left you - his only child - next in line.

You’d come to an agreement with your grandmother that, before anyone made any rash decisions, you’d give it some time to try out the role of Princess. And so commenced the ‘Princess training’ every day after school with your grandmother. You’d learn how to walk, talk, sit, stand and live like a true Princess within the agreed trial month between this life altering news and the annual independence ball.

Sworn to secrecy, you’d not told a soul about your new informed identity. So, while your private life has somehow changed in every single way, your school life has not budged an inch. From the hours of 8-3 you’re the same invisible girl, with your two bestest friends since kindergarten, Jisung and Chenle.

“Woah, he’s so dreamy.” You gush, resting your chin in your palm as you watch Jaemin walk past your lunch table. Jisung simply rolls his eyes at the way you simp over the most popular guy in school, like always. He doesn’t get the hype around Jaemin. So what if he’s the captain of the football team, extremely lean and always seems to have perfectly shiny hair? Anyone could have all of those things. Jisung could have all of those things…

Despite the fact that he’s almost flunking gym class because of his terrible hand-eye co-ordination in football.

Jisung feels his only consolation is that Jaemin is dating Nina, the head cheerleader.

“Anyway…” Chenle speaks a little louder, “as I was saying before (Y/N) let her hormones take away from the crisis at hand. How am I going to get another guest for my show on Saturday?”

Ah yeah, you were trying to console Chenle on his last minute drama. His school curricula radio show, Talking with Chenle, had finally been getting more than three listeners a week. And ever since his audience has started to slowly grow, he’s been putting more and more pressure on himself to promote the topics he cares about with guests.

“Dude, chill. You still have four days to find a replacement.” Jisung grumbles from beside you. He looks a little like he’s sulking, although you have no idea what could have possibly made him so annoyed within the last thirty minutes that you’ve been sat at your lunch table.

“So much help you are.” Chenle fires at the grumpy Jisung on your left as he stands from the table, slings his bag over his shoulder and storms off.

You turn your attention to said grump, frowning.

“That wasn’t nice Sungs.” You watch as regret consumes his face, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder as he mumbles a muted apology.

“So, are you collecting your car from the garage tonight?” Jisung finally builds up enough courage to ask you. He’s been battling in his mind for the last few days on how to bring this up, so he’s a little nervous, but tries his best to suppress the shyness that wants to win over.

“Oh I can’t.” You guiltily grimace. You feel terrible putting him off again, especially when you were meant to pick up your baby weeks ago. But, since you’ve been having your ‘Princess lessons’ everyday, you’ve had no time. “I’m seeing my Grandmother.”

“Again?” Jisung regrets how quickly the word slips out of his mouth. But you don’t seem offended, nodding yes in response.

“How about Saturday?” You quizzically raise a brow, biting down onto the corner of your bottom lip in anticipation.

“Saturday works…” You let out a breath in relief upon Jisung’s agreement. “…and maybe you can stay for a bit, hang out?” Jisung suggests.

“…it’s just my band are practicing that afternoon in front of a few people and it’d be great to have a bit more of an audience…” Jisung trails off, cutting off his word vomit just in time to notice the way your smile reaches your eyes.

“Sounds perfect.” You beam, just as the bell rings for class.

-

You were beyond nervous. Petrified, if you’re completely honest. Yesterday evenings ‘Princess lesions’ with your grandmother had turned out to be a head-to-toe makeover and you’d come out the other end of the evening looking like someone entirely different. Some may even say, like a Princess. Gone were your glasses, bushy eyebrows, your hair had been cut and the frizz tamed. To you, you look almost unrecognisable. To Chenle, you look amazing. But to Jisung, you look like the very thing you’d always swore you’d never want to be - a popular - and it scared him.

While you liked your new look, you felt like a bit of a sellout for complying with the makeover to look more ‘regal’ - as your grandmother had described it. So you’d walked into your first class of the day wearing a grey bucket hat, so as to cover as much of your new look as possible.

Jisung had to do a double take when you entered the classroom and took your usual seat beside him. He’d always thought you were beautiful before, but wow, you’d somehow managed to ascend to another level quite literally overnight. From under the hat, he could see your bright eyes and long lashes. The neat shaping of your eyebrows and the plumpness of your lips, accentuated by the baby pink lip gloss you’d applied. Although, he’s unsure of why you’re wearing a hat on such a warm summers day, especially when you’re inside.

“Okay class, simmer down.” Your teacher, Mr Sums enters from the back of the room, hushing all of the excited chatter in the room as he places down his bag on the front desk and begins to set up for the class. “Yes, Nina?” He acknowledges without so much as glancing in her direction.

Nina sat in the seat behind you, perfectly poised and ready to strike. She’s the head girl in your grade for a reason, with her off-scale intelligence, popularity and cunning attitude. She will take down anyone who gets in her way. Which, right now, is your hat covered head that’s in her line of vision to the front of the class.

“Mr Sums. Isn’t there a rule about no hats allowed?” You can feel her smirk on the back of your neck, letting out a concealed huff as you try to prepare yourself for what you know is going to happen next.

“You’re right Nina.” Mr Sums sighs, “(Y/N), please could you remove your improper dress coded attire?” He glances at you and your mortified expression, watching as you gulp down your nerves while simultaneously reaching up to reluctantly slip your hat off.

Out tumbles your perfectly smooth hair as it cascades down past your shoulders. Jisung’s eyes almost pop out of his head from beside you. Not that you notice, too busy being consumed by the gasps from your classmates.

“Oh wow.” You hear Nina laugh, “Look who’s trying to fit in now?”

Her sickly-sweet tone only makes your cheeks burn deeper and you try to sink into your chair.

“Well, I think (Y/N) looks stunning, actually.” Your head whips towards Jisung, grateful for him sticking up for you. You send him a thankful smile as class begins and everyone’s attention is turned away from you. For now.

-

“So what’s the deal with your sudden change of appearance?” Chenle questions as he shovels his salad into his mouth. His words come out slightly muffled between the half-chewed lettuce and Jisung just rolls his eyes.

“Nothing.” You try to shut down the topic, bowing your head into your own lunch.

“It’s clearly not nothing.” Chenle deadpans, before narrowing his eyes at you. “You’re hiding something.”

“Am not.” You grumble into your sandwich.

“So you’ll be coming to my baseball game after school then, like we agreed weeks ago?”

Shit. You’d completely forgotten about Chenle’s baseball game and you know for certain you can’t get out of seeing your grandmother.

“I can’t.”

“See!” Chenle drops his fork into his salad, folding his arms as he turns to Jisung for support. “What? Are you just bored with us now? Don’t want to be friends anymore?”

“No, that’s not even close!” You cry in distress.

“Then tell us what’s so important that you keep dropping us (Y/N).”

You bite down on your jittering bottom lip, your worried eyes casting from Chenle’s unimpressed expression to Jisung’s concerned one.

“I’m not allowed to tell…”

Upon this half-confession, Chenle drops his attitude and leans across the table to speak quieter.

“Are you in trouble? Being blackmailed again? Do we need to beat someone up?”

“No!” You shut down his conspiracies, hands flying up in surrender.

You know you shouldn’t tell anyone. But you also know that if you don’t spill it all to them now, you’ll risk loosing the only people keeping you sane. Heaving a deep sigh, you know what you have to do.

“Okay. You have to promise me you’ll keep this strictly between us.” You point between your two intrigued friends, encouraging them to lean into the table so you can whisper. “I’m serious. The repercussions if this gets out-”

“Just tell us.” Chenle rolls his eyes.

To other students, it simply looks like your gossiping like any other group of high schoolers. But if they were to look closely enough, they’d notice the way both Chenle and Jisung’s eyes blow wide and how the colour seems to drain from Jisung’s face faster than lightening.

“You’re a what-” you cover Chenle’s mouth before he has a chance to shout anything further, covering it with a “Shhhhh.”

“Promise this stays between us.” You stick your pinky finger out for them to link, watching as both of your friends entangle theirs around yours.

“Damn. Wish I could be a…” Chenle begins to mutter.

“Dude!”

-

Walking into school the next morning feels a little more unnerving than usual. You’re barely through the threshold of the gates when someone spots you and shouts “that’s her!”.

Everything’s a blur from that moment. With a frenzy of people shouting “Princess!”, a crowd of students swarm you in seconds, phones and cameras are flying in front of your face as they all take pictures and videos. You feel nauseous from being elbowed and shoved in the midst of the unfolding chaos. However, just when you think your about to spew your guts from the motion sickness, you feel a pair of hands find your waist and clutch onto you, wrapping you into the taller frame of your saviour and using their body as a shield until you’re safely out of the crowd.

“Follow me.” Your saviour moves you away from their hold, clutching onto your hand and forcing you to run as you’re dragged along behind them to a place of refuge. You’re pulled into the main building and twisted through the narrow corridors until there’s no one on your tail.

It’s not until you’re hidden inside a janitors closet that you’re able to look at the person before you and realise it’s Jisung.

“How do they know!” You rush back into his chest, wrapping your arms tightly around his torso and burying your face. Jisung is winded a little from the impact, tumbling a few steps back with you before he regains his balance.

“It’s ok. Everything’s going to be ok.” He whispers into the top of your head, fluttering his eyes shut as he inhales the floral scent of your freshly washed hair.

Of course, Jisung has no idea how your secret had gotten out, or what to do next. All he knows right now is how perfectly you fit in his arms and how much he wants to protect you.

“I want you to know, it wasn’t me.” You pull away from Jisung, peering into his worried eyes. You’d never once doubted it would have come from him and there’s nothing more in the world you want right now than to let him know that. Cupping his cheek, you brush your thumb over his soft skin.

“I’d never even consider that being a possibility.” You soothe.

Jisung drinks in every drop of affection you give him as though he’d been traversing the desert for days on end without water. Knowing you never could have accused him rehydrates him and makes his heart feel like it could burst.

“It wasn’t Chenle either. I was with him all evening after his baseball game.”

“I don’t doubt him either.” You reassure. “This feels bigger than just some school gossip.”

-

After cooling down in the janitors closet for a while, you’d managed to sneak out and into your first few classes of the day without too many people bombarding you. Your principle had made an announcement to not cause another commotion and all staff were on patrol during lesson changeovers and breaks.

“Wait, (Y/N)!” You turn to find Chenle forcing his way to the front of the cohort of students following you, instantly linking his arm with yours as you continue to uncomfortably make your way to class surrounded by your new admirers. “You’re an overnight sensation!” He beams, loving the attention on you both.

“Tell me about it…” you mumble, juxtaposing Chenle in every way. Unlike your friend, you’re not made for the limelight. You don’t like all the attention on you. Not now, not ever.

This was one of your biggest fears about people finding out you’re a Princess.

“So, you’ll be my special celebrity guest on Talking with Chenle this Saturday, won’t you?”

Your mouth gapes, finally making eye contact with him and ready to outright refuse. Until, you see how hopeful he looks.

Damn it. There’s no way you can turn him down.

“Sure…” you sigh, unable to hide the small smile that forces its way onto your face when he jumps in excitement.

“You’re awesome!”

-

“(Y/N)!”

You’re just closing your locker when you hear your name, your heart picking up pace from the unmistakeable voice of your caller.

Spinning around, you find none other than Jaemin, smiling at you with his signature smile and staring at you with those heart melting eyes.

“How are you holding up? Been a bit of a crazy day…” He leans one arm on the locker beside you, standing so close you can smell his earthy cologne.

“Just a bit.” You giggle sweetly.

It’s amazing how Jaemin can have such an affect on you. One word and your mind has gone to putty and you’ve forgotten how to act like a normal person.

“Well, I just wanted to apologise for Nina this morning…”

“Huh?” You furrow your brows, feeling yourself come back down to earth.

“She was the one who shouted when you entered the gates and made everyone swarm you?” Jaemin’s tone comes out unsure, not realising that you weren’t aware when you let out a light “oh.”

“I just wanted to let you know that I do not condone that at all. In fact, I broke up with her because of it.”

“You did?” You gush, surprise written all over your face.

…and you’re off in space again.

“Yeah, it was totally not cool.” Jaemin nods. “Anyway, I was wondering if you wanted to go to the end of school beach party with me this Saturday?”

Oh my gosh! Na Jaemin just asked you out!

“Yes!” You blurt. “I-uh I mean, yeah” you swallow, “sounds cool.”

“Cool.” His smile reaches his eyes. “I’ll see you Saturday.”

You watch dreamily as Jaemin walks away to join his group of friends at their lunch table. You’re only pulled back into reality when you spot Jisung perched on the edge of the fountain across the courtyard.

“Guess who just asked me to go with him to the beach party this Saturday!” You park yourself next to Jisung on the ledge of the fountain. “Jaemin!” You squeal your answer when Jisung simply raises an inquisitive brow at you.

“But, what about seeing my band practice?” Jisung tries to not sound depleted.

“Well, I was hoping we could reschedule? I just, I’ve been wanting to go out with Jaemin since forever and you’ll have other band practices, right?”

“Oh, yeah, right.” Jisung forces a smile, feeling himself deflate the second you’ve squeezed him in a tight hug before skipping off to get some lunch.

His attention flickers over to the table where Jaemin sits. How could Jisung ever compare? He’d always felt you were unattainable to him because of how he was too shy to express his feelings. And that was before your new look and title. But now? He has no shot.

You’re a Princess for goodness sake. You belong with the most popular guy in school. Not a shy keyboard player in a band that sings in the local garage like him…

-

“Oh, thank goodness you’re here!” Your grandmother rushes to you as you arrive for your ‘Princess lesson’ of the day. She takes you by your shoulders and peers at you intently.

“Now,” she exhales a deep breath. “We’ve got the press under control with the looming promise of the annual independence ball, so long as they keep a little distance for now.”

You nod in understanding.

You were honestly a little nervous about seeing your grandmother this evening. You’d been worrying about her reaction to this all getting out, even though she is calm and has dealt with an unimaginable amount of trials and tribulations during her many years of reign. She is also strong willed and has made it clear to you that - even though you have yet to make the choice to accept your title and duty - the expectation of this trial period would be as though this is your future.

“And we’ve found that the leak was from the stylist we’d hired.”

There’s more relief in knowing your Grandmother knows it hadn’t come from you than there is from the culprit being found out.

“And we’ve got him doing a formal apology to the press this evening.”

-

Saturday rolls around quickly and before you know it, you’re on your way to the beach party for your date with Jaemin. Everyone who’s anyone is there; dancing, sunbathing or cooling off in the ocean as the sun begins to set.

You feel a little awkward as you walk down the beach to join the other party-goers. It seems like it’s well underway already and you’re not typically one to mix with the crowd in attendance.

“Welcome to paradise.” You almost jump out of your skin upon hearing Jaemin’s voice from your side. You had been so engrossed in your awe of the scene in front of you, you didn’t notice he’d walked over. “I got you a drink.”

You accept the plastic cup, your fingers brushing accidentally with his. Chuckling a flustered thanks before taking a sip, you try not to be affected by his amused grin. He thinks you’re so adorable. How had you been kept so hidden before?

“C’mon.” You feel Jaemin’s hand slip into yours, gently tugging you along with him to head further into the crowd…

“Hello, welcome to Talking with Chenle.” Chenle professionally introduces when his fellow producer Mark signals they are live. “On todays show, we have a special interview with the newfound Princess and close friend of mine, (Y/N).” Mark hits the applause button.

“But, before our main guest’s appearance, we have a short segment on the upcoming senior class projects, presented by our very own Mark.”

Mark jumps in with his pre-written script, listing out the upcoming events for the semester. Meanwhile, Chenle checks his phone to see if you’ve tried to contact him about your whereabouts. Nothing. You should have been here 30 minutes ago…

Back at the beach party, you’re having the time of your life dancing with Jaemin. Uncontrollable laughter tumbling from your lips as he takes your hand and spins you around.

“Who knew you were such a good dancer?” You teasingly glance up at Jaemin as he leads you out of the crowd of dancers and to the side for some much needed air, your hand still firmly in his.

“Well, who knew you would make such a great dance partner.” He praises back, succeeding in making you flustered.

You cast a shy glance up at him through your lashes, still unable to believe that this is reality. You really are here with Jaemin, hand in hand in front of everyone. You feel like you should pinch yourself, just to double check your not dreaming all of this.

That is, until reality comes crashing down in a burning rage. What you’d simply brushed off as a plane flying above you, turned out to be a helicopter filled with paparazzi. It lowers, the wind from the propeller cutting off the party and almost knocking everyone off their feet as multiple cameras flash at you, trying their best to get a good snapshot.

You panic, a million questions buzzing around your mind. What should you do? How do you get away? But most of all, how did they know you’d be here?

“Quick, follow me!” Jaemin pulls you, both of you running towards the lifeguard shack at the back of the beach.

Once inside, Jaemin bolts the door shut and silence and darkness settle around you.

“I’m so sorry.” You plant your face into your hands as you fall into the chair behind you. Being chased by paparazzi - all shouting Princess at you - was not a part of your imagined date with Jaemin. And it’s mortifying to know that’s the reality.

“Hey.” You hear him whisper, his larger hands coercing yours away from your face. In the time you’ve been wallowing, Jaemin had made his way over to you and knelt down to your level so the first thing you see are his eyes and the way they catch the moonlight that filters in through the crack in the curtain covered window. “It’s not your fault.”

His sincerity mesmerises you and washes away your humiliation. How does he do it? How does he seem to know the exact right thing to say?

Meanwhile, Chenle’s radio show is crashing and burning live on air. The last forty-five minutes have been filled with Marks terrible jokes and ramblings and it’s all because of you.

“Alright, I’m off.” Chenle sounds defeated, taking off his headphones and making a stand from his chair the second the ‘live’ light goes dim.

Mark doesn’t respond, nodding his understanding as he watches his friend walk away. He knows it’s not his fault. Heck, Mark did everything he could to act on the spot and make the best out of the shit situation. Chenle is grateful for Marks loyalty and perseverance.

But damn, he still wishes you’d showed… they both do.

“Ok, I think they’ve given up.” Jaemin asserts, peaking through the curtain to find a dark and empty seeming beach. The relief that fills you has you following Jaemin out of the lifeguard shack without thought.

“Thank you for sticking by me, it means a lot.” You timidly smile at Jaemin, allowing him to take your hand in his as you begin to walk up the beach.

Before you have time to register, a bright flash snaps in front of you, the momentary blindness giving time for multiple lurking paparazzi to spring out from their hiding places and surround you both.

“Princess! Who’s your date?”

“Is this your boyfriend?”

“Princess, give him a kiss!”

The crowd shout as you panic, looking around to try and find an escape route.

You spot a slither in the sea of bodies and pull on Jaemin’s hand, but he doesn’t budge. Instead, he complies to the crazy demands of the privacy invading press and scoops your body into his. His lean arms make your desperation to get away worthless and before you know it, he’s cupped your cheek and forced you to look at him.

With one final deer-in-the-headlights look at him, Jaemin crashes his lips to yours.

It takes you a few seconds to register what he’s doing, before you muster up the strength to shove him away and force yourself out of the circle.

You can’t believe he just did that.

-

“It’s really not that bad.” Jisung tries to console you.

You’re flopped over the table, head in your arms as you try to block out every piece of reality. After Saturday’s kiss fiasco, the picture had been posted everywhere. There was no escaping the horrifying image of your first kiss with Jaemin. No less because you’d always dreamt your first kiss with Jaemin would be magical, like something out of a fairytale. And while you may be a Princess, this feels nothing close to those magical Disney princess movies you adored so much growing up.

For starters, where is your fairy godmother? You could really use one of those right about now…

He can’t lie, Jisung’s a little heartbroken seeing the picture of you kissing someone else posted everywhere. He’s upset for you, knowing how much you hate the situation. But, selfishly, he’s more gutted for himself. That should be him in Jaemin’s place. In fact, if he’d been lucky enough to kiss you, the image wouldn’t have existed because he never would have done it in front of the cameras. Knowing that Jaemin used you to get his 15 minutes of fame angers him too. The first time he saw the picture online, his fists had clenched so tightly from the rage that bubbled up in his stomach his nails had left little crescent moons in his palms. And yet, he can’t bring himself to not look at the grainy image.

“Not that bad?” You retort. “Any hope I had of being Princess has gone down the drain.” You begin to sob.

“What’s my grandmother going to say?”

Jisung doesn’t realise how stern his face had been until he finally looks away from the picture to find your eyes peaking out from their hiding spot. His gaze softens in a heartbeat, his hand reaching out to instinctively rub your back.

From your peripheral, you recognise the group passing by and tear your gaze away from Jisung’s to find Jaemin and his friends snickering as they walk past.

“Hey (Y/N), great kiss.” Jaemin puckers his lips mockingly.

You’re not sure what hurts you more, having reality shred the mask to uncover his true, obnoxious personality to you or knowing how many years you spent pining over someone so shallow.

“Ugh.” You bury your face back into the safety of your arms, blocking out all daylight and - you hope - reality.

-

After a lot of pep-talk from Jisung, he finally managed to coax you into going to your next class. But it’s not until final period, when see Chenle enter the classroom, that you realise you hadn’t seen or heard from him since last week. You send him a smile when he makes eye contact, feeling confused when he frowns back before taking a seat on the opposite end of the room.

You find yourself casting glances in his direction throughout the class, hoping to catch him looking over at you at least once. But nothing. Not even a peep is sent your way.

“Chenle,” you chase after him. Barely five seconds after your teacher had dismissed class, Chenle had been out of the door and down the corridor. You’d had to sprint through the throngs of students just to get to him before he got out of the building. “Why’d you not sit with me?”

But your question is met with the biggest eye roll you’ve ever seen as Chenle continues to make his way out of the school grounds.

“Did I do something?” You press.

“Did you do something?” Chenle fires back at you, narrowing his eyes vehemently. “Try what you didn’t do!”

You’re dumbstruck.

“I have no ide-”

“My radio show Saturday?” Chenle sasses. Thank goodness you’re down the street by the time Chenle finally stops walking and begins exploding on you. “I had to listen to Marks lame jokes for an hour.”

“Oh my god! I’m so unbelievably sorry.” Your eyes go wide, mortified at how you’d completely forgotten about being Chenle’s guest. “I’ll make it up to you next time, I swear!”

“There won’t be a next time.” Chenle scoffs, turning away once again. “Oh,” he stops himself to mention one last thing. “and, just so you know, just because you a Princess now, doesn’t mean the only thing that matters is you.”

-

“Hey Sungs.” You mournfully approach where Jisung finishes polishing your car. The garage is oddly quiet, no music or clatter sounding in the usually busy space. No. Instead, it seems like it’s just you and Jisung here. “Thank you for taking such good care of my baby.”

“No problem.” Jisung sends you a half-smile as he hands over the keys. “She’s all yours.”

“You don’t know how much this means to me.” You warmly smile, but feel your mood drop when he doesn’t reciprocate like he usually does. There’s a silence that fills the space between you. You’ve never felt so awkward with Jisung before.

“Well… I better get going…” you try not to sound too deflated, jangling your keys in the air as you go to open your car door.

You watch as Jisung takes a step back from the car, his hands stuffed awkwardly in his pockets as he wordlessly watches you.

“Hey, can I ask you something?” You timidly look at Jisung, stopping yourself from clutching the car door handle in front of you. “You don’t think I think the only thing that matters is me, right?”

There’s a timidity to your tone that makes Jisung gulp. He knows all about the argument because Chenle had ranted down the phone to him for a hour after school and he can tell Chenle’s words have gotten to you. At the same time, however, he feels a little dumbfounded that you seem to only realise this now, after you’d had someone shout it in your face. It’s even more ironic you only ask Jisung of his thoughts when you are just about to take the finished car home. The very one that you’ve been stringing him along with for weeks. He knows he has to be honest with you.

“There were times when I would say I agree, yes.” Jisung nods. “I mean, you dropped me for Jaemin in a heartbeat and he’d never once given you the time of day before your Princess glow-up.”

“Right. I really should go…” you voice comes out hoarse. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Jisung feels terrible as you spare no more time getting into your car and starting the engine. It revs to life and roars as you drive away, leaving him alone once again. But the it sinks in how much you’d made him feel used. You’d chosen to walk away from the truth when you’d asked him for it. And Jisung can’t help but feel disappointed.

-

Walking through the halls the next day you feel so insecure. Groups of students stop their conversation to stare at you as you pass, their expressions unreadable, leaving you unable to tell if they are judging you or just fascinated.

Reaching your locker in the courtyard, your eyes light up in hope upon seeing Chenle a few doors down at his locker. You watch him until he notices you, forcing a meek smile his direction when he does. But instead of him smiling back and making his way over to you, he frowns and slams his locker shut before walking the opposite direction.

You self-consciously peer around, hoping no one had witnessed that rejection and your eyes light up when you spot Jisung.

“Jisung!” You call as he walks past. But he doesn’t even acknowledge you. Instead, he picks up his pace and your eyes follow him as he catches up with Chenle. You turn back to focus on getting the right books out of your locker, trying to hold back the tears that threaten to spill.

How had you managed to mess up so bad that your friends won’t even acknowledge you…

With tears still in your eyes, you enter your next class with your head hanging low. You can’t bear to look up and see your two friends, knowing they won’t speak to you. Instead, you rush to the back of the room and take the seat furthest in the corner.

But when you do eventually look up towards the front of the classroom, you catch Jisung glancing your way. He turns back to face the front a split second after. But there’s as hope that flows through you from catching the longing in his expression.

Maybe there’s still a way to win them back.

-

It’s taken a few days to figure out, but you think you know how to get your friends to forgive you. Starting with Chenle.

First you have to sneak up on him so he doesn’t get away when you try to talk to him, which from his avoidance of you the past week, has proven more challenging than you thought. But you do manage to corner him in class as everyone leaves for lunch.

“Chenle, I want to make it up to you.” You plea. “I just want everything to be right between us again.” While you’ve technically been successful in talking to him, he’s still refusing to look at you. “Tell me what I can do…”

This piques his interest.

“Stop being a Princess.” He flatly states. If only he knew…

That was actually something you’d been working on, deciding days ago that you don’t think you’re cut out for accepting royal duty as a Princess. You’ve already spoken to your grandmother about this and, despite her reluctance and assurance that you would be more than capable for the role, you’d come to a mutual agreement to make no public announce until the evening of the ball.

You wish you could tell Chenle, but you can’t break your promise to your grandmother. You’re done breaking promises you’ve made.

“Well, I was thinking more along the lines of attending the independence ball this Saturday?” You send him a hopeful beam.

You take his blank expression and lack of a quick response as a good sign and continue to persuade.

“It’s invitation only…”

Chenle sighs. Damn him and his weakness for exclusivity. Plus, he’s always wanted to go to a ball and he doesn’t know when he’ll get this type of opportunity again.

“Fine!” He caves. “You’re forgiven.”

You squeal, jumping into him to squeeze him in a hug. You feel his chest vibrate with laughter and look up to finally see him smiling.

“I missed you.” You gush as you pull away and begin walking down the hallway together.

“I know.” Chenle laughs heartily when you shove him and roll your eyes.

You finally feel like you’re on the right track. If you can get Chenle to forgive you, then you’re pretty certain Jisung will too. Now you just need to find him.

-

“Wassup bro.” Chenle greets Mark as you join his table for lunch. You’re familiar with Mark because he helps Chenle out with his radio show and you’ve always found him really bubbly and sweet on the few occasions you’ve spoken.

“Sup guys.” Mark greets you both warmly. “I see you’re back on speaking terms.”

“Yep.” Chenle responds through a mouthful of food.

“Yeah, I’m really sorry about all of that.” You grimace towards Mark. “But I heard you’re on your way to becoming a comedic genius.”

“I think I’m good with sticking to the pre-scripted topics.” Mark laughs loudly.

“Oh, hey Jisung!” Chenle’s sudden shout almost makes you jump out of your skin.

You turn your attention to where Chenle looks to find Jisung casting an embarrassed side glance over to your table while trying to continue his conversation with one of his band mates Renjun.

You don’t really know Renjun, other than what you’ve observed. Even though he’s part of Jaemin’s popular group, he seems like a nice guy and there’s always been a part of you that’s been curious to know how he ended up with friends like Jaemin, Jeno and Donghyuck. All so loud and attention loving in comparison.

You watch as he bids Renjun goodbye and approaches, stuffing his hands into his pockets once he’s reached your table. It’s clear he doesn’t want to hang around…

“Aren’t you gonna join us for lunch?” Chenle snickers at his friend, his tone mocking at the way Jisung acts so hesitant.

“Actually, I-uh have,” Jisung gulps. “I have last minute band practice.”

“But you just said goodbye to Renjun?” Mark furrows his brows.

“Gotta go!” Jisung takes off as quickly as he can. He doesn’t look back when he hears you call after him, instead only ducking his head lower and picking up more speed. You have to run to catch him. Damn him and his long legs. You hate running.

“Jisung.” You pant, catching him by the arm and using all of your body weight to slow him down. He lets out a defeated sigh as he stops, knowing there’s no escaping having to talk to you now. “Please talk to me…” you beg, pleading with the best, saddest puppy eyes you can muster.

“What is there to say?” His voice comes of quieter than he wanted it to. He’s so hurt and upset with you and he wants to be able to express that. He usually can when it’s towards other people. But when it’s you on the receiving end, there’s just something that stops him. No matter how much you broke his heart.

“Look, I’m sorry about yesterday. I shouldn’t have run away from what you’d said.”

Theres something in your words that makes him wake up and finally realise that he’s been running away too. Not just now. But for way too long. Jisung’s been running away from telling you how he really feels about you. For so long he’s talked himself into waiting for you to fall in love with him, to wake up and finally see that the person you should be with has been by your side the whole time. His feelings have been repressed and he’s forced himself to be invisible for too long. But he’s done with that now.

“Sungs, are you ok?” He blinks back into reality, not having realised he’d gotten caught up in overthinking for too long.

You watch him, wide eyed as he stands up straighter, determination written across his face.

“Actually, I have something I need to say.”

You nod, waiting intently.

“I’ve been an idiot for too long.” And… you’re confused. “I’ve let you walk all over me for years because I’ve been so in love with you.”

“Heck,” Jisung laughs at himself. “I even let you off when you ditched me for Jaemin because I kept telling myself that I wasn’t good enough for you.”

You feel your heart break knowing Jisung had been putting himself down like that. Any and every emotion courses through you as you try your best to take in the weight of his words.

“I-” you begin, but Jisung cuts you off before you have a chance to say anymore.

“I know you don’t feel the same… it’s ok.” Jisung forces a smile. “I just need some time apart.”

You feel like you’re suffocating, unable to voice anything as you watch Jisung walk away. Chocking on sobs as the weight of the world hits you like a ton of bricks.

You just wished you’d realised sooner. Because if you had, then maybe you wouldn’t have lost your best friend, you wouldn’t have hurt him for so long and maybe you wouldn’t have had your heart smashed to pieces like you just have.

-

“Can’t you just have someone do the speech for me?” Your voice is muted by the duvet that you insist to remain under. Your mom perched on the side of your bed as she encourages you to at least go downstairs to eat something.

It’s the morning of the annual independence ball and you’ve not left your bed since you’d gotten home the day before.

You’d had many home truths and realisations from Jisung yesterday. But cocooning yourself inside your duvet has really helped you process a lot. Like the fact that you love Jisung too… and not in just a platonic way. He’s always been there for you and you’ve taken that for granted.

You’ve been so dumb to your feelings for so long, brushing infatuation off as excitement or just that you really care for Jisung, when reality is that your heart doesn’t flip every time he smiles just because he’s your best friend. It flips every time he smiles because his smile is one of your favourite things in the world. It eases your worries and brightens your day.

Just being around Jisung makes you feel like everything’s going to be ok. He’s always so supportive and soft-natured. He takes care of you not because he’s a good friend but because he loves you.

You know that if he were to be here today, you’d be able to get through your speech this evening, facing crowds of people and answering to them why you are abdicating your royal duties. With Jisung by your side, you can get through anything.

Without him you’re lost.

Similarly, Jisung has been trying to drown out reality since he confessed to you by focusing all of his energy on his band practice and fixing up cars. He went straight from school to the garage and worked through the night to try and get his mind off of you.

Which is why he jolts awake to Chenle shouting in his ear for him to “wake up!”

“Why!” He cries, rubbing his sore neck from the poor posture of his sleep on the couch by his band’s equipment.

“You seriously slept here last night?” Chenle doesn’t hold back any judgment, raising his brow at Jisung as he grumbles out unintelligible remarks under his breath.

“I get you’re heart broken or whatever, but that doesn’t mean you should give up now.”

“Well, what else should I do?” Jisung, still sat in the chair he’d slept in, sulks like a child.

“Uh, I don’t know, go after her?” Chenle retorts like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

“But she doesn’t feel the same, I’d just be making a fool of myself…”

Chenle scoffs. How does he not see it?

“Of course (Y/N) feels the same. It’s so obvious.” Chenle leans down to place his hand on Jisung’s shoulder. “Trust me. I’ve had to watch you both almost every day for years.”

He’s not joking. He really has. All the times he’s rolled his eyes at the way you both act so soppy towards the other. You’ve both been too wrapped up in either convincing yourself that you have no shot, or mistaking your feelings to notice.

Jisung springs to his feet. With the way Chenle remains so serious, he knows he must be telling the truth.

“I need to win her back!”

-

You frantically pack, shoving everything you can into your bag before anyone catches on to what your about to do. You feel so hopeless, like a complete failure and you know you can’t face the crowd of influential people and reporters to decline your role of Princess. So you’re running away.

You’d managed to convince your grandmother to not send a limo because your mom wanted to take you to your first ball. And you’d also lied to your mom, telling her that your grandmother had organised a limo to pick you up.

As soon as your mom had left, the race against time had begun and you’d been flying around your room packing.

You pick up the embossed faux-leather diary your grandmother had gifted you when you’d first met and found out you were a Princess, stilling when it slips from your grasp and falls open to reveal a letter that had been tucked in between the pages.

Carefully picking it up and unfolding it, you realise it’s from your father before he passed away.

His heartfelt words bring tears to your eyes as he expresses all the love he has for you and his country as soon to be King. But the final line strikes something within you that makes you rethink everything you had planned to do.

“Courage is not the absence of fear, but rather the judgement that something else is more important than fear. The brave may not live forever, but the cautious do not live at all. From now on you’ll be travelling the road between who you think you are and who you can be. The key is to allow yourself to make the journey.”

-

Helping Jisung come up with a plan to win you back is easy for Chenle. With the independence ball being that evening, nothing could be more perfect than Jisung turning up, declaring his love and sweeping you off your feet. Just like a true Prince. So he’d offered the plus 1 you’d given him to Jisung.

Waiting in the grand hall for your arrival feels like an eternity. Everyone seems to be here except you.

“Have either of you seen (Y/N)?” Your mom rushes up to Chenle and Jisung in a slight panic. Both of them shrug, shaking their heads no in response. “She told me a limo was picking her up, but apparently she told her grandmother I was bringing her.”

Shit. There’s something in Jisung that springs into action upon the possibility that you could be in danger.

“Stall until I get back.” Jisung directs Chenle.

“Where are you going?!” Chenle shouts back, but it’s too late. Jisung’s already run off.

“Oh no no no…” you whine as your car conks out, the heavens pouring down on you and pooling in your hatch-back. “Is this what I get for messing everything up!” You shout at the sky, flopping back into your seat and sobbing your heart out.

You don’t blame the universe for this payback. You deserve it after all your selfishness. But you have been trying to make amends, to right all of your wrongs. You have every intention to go to the independence ball to share your decision in person. It’s the least your families country deserve. It’s the least your family deserve. But, right now, you’re failing. Failing at getting to the ball on time just like you failed at making amends with Jisung.

Gosh, even when you’re trying to do something else it’s still seems to end up on Jisung…

Just as you’re giving up all hope, a car horn jolts you up in your seat with a gasp. The headlights blind you momentarily as they round the corner, until the car has stopped beside you.

“Need a ride, Princess?” Your mouth hangs agape as the window rolls down to reveal Jisung in the drivers seat.

Although you can only see the top half of him, you’re heart summersaults from his attire. There he is, coming to your rescue, dressed in a black tuxedo and bow tie. He looks just like Prince Charming.

“How did you find me?” You remain in your car, unable to move from the shock… and the cold. You look like a drowned rat as the storm continues to shower down on you.

By this point, Jisung had gotten out of his car, into the pouring rain and rushed over to help lift you out of your vehicle to transfer you into the warmth and shelter of his own.

“Lucky guess.” He smirks from the drivers seat, twisting the keys and bringing the car to life again, before racing through the dark deserted streets.

You watch him from the passenger seat as he remains focused on the road, mesmerised by the steady focus of his eyes and his tight jaw, the way his hair - now wet from your rescue - drips little droplets of water onto his forehead and nose, down his cheeks to his perfectly plump lips.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” You’re caught off guard by his question as it breaks the silence that had settled. You hadn’t even realised you’d been staring that long, or the fact he’d noticed.

“I was… just looking.” You blush, turning to look out your window. You’re just thankful it’s dark right now.

A few seconds go by and you begin to recognise the street just as the car pulls into your grandmothers driveway and stops at the entrance.

“Wait!” You clutch onto Jisung’s arm as he goes to open his door. He freezes from the touch before slowly twisting back to look at you. “Thank you.” You whisper.

“It was no problem.” Jisung sends you a tight lipped smile.

“No. I mean, thank you for always being there for me.” You elaborate, moving your grip down his arm until you get to his hand, entangling your fingers with his. “For loving me.”

Jisung’s breath hitches. He’s not sure what to say. It’s like all the air has been sucked out of his lungs. And the way you continue to stare at him makes him feel so warm and fuzzy and loved.

“(Y/N), I-”

“I know you said you wanted space.” You cut him off. “But I’m so lost without you.”

“Why me?” He whispers.

You slowly reach up to cup his cheek, drawing him in closer and closer until your noses touch. Your eyes flutter shut as you breathe in his signature piney scent. The familiarity makes you feel like you’ve arrived back home and gives you the courage to utter your next words ever so breathily.

“Because you saw me when I was invisible.”

The next thing you know, Jisung’s lips are smashed against yours. You’re unsure which of you initiated it, not having had your eyes open in fear of his rejection. His lips are just as soft as you’d imagined they’ve be and you feel yourself unable to suppress the smile that explodes across your face, causing Jisung to smile into the kiss too.

Everything seems to fall into place again. Who knew kissing your best friend could feel so right?

Pulling apart breathlessly, you both continue to smile at each other, idiotically in love.

“We really should get inside and put Chenle out of his misery.” Jisung chuckles, only imagining the chaos he’s cause by trying to stall.

“I guess…” you trail off, sending Jisung a sheepish smirk. He knows exactly what you’re thinking. “…Or we could kiss some more?”

“We can do that later. But first, you have to tell your country you will be their Princess.”

~ bonus ~

“How’s my baby?” Jisung rolls his eyes.

“I told you to stop calling me that.” He deadpans, failing to hide the blush that tinges his cheeks from the way you smirk at him.

You know he loves it really.

“But it’s cute!” You continue to tease, laughing as you speak.

“Whatever you say Princess.”