#while i am over here dying in hopeless pining

[earanie]

.

[honeybeefae]

Cauldron Fated (Eris Vanserra x Reader)

KINKTOBER DAY SIX: MATING BOND

Summary// You considered Eris to be somewhat of a friend, having grown up alongside him in court and being there for him on the scarce times he confided in you. It just felt natural, and as you got older, it started to develop into a crush. He always held you at arm's length though, never dancing with you or joining you on morning rides, which left you with no choice but to move on. But when your engagement is announced at a ball a week later, Eris has a big problem with it…which leads to the discovery of something bigger than both of you.

(If I had the time I would have loved to expand this to a two-part series or longer, it has so much potential. This fic is 6711 WORDS. I am shocked and I really, really hope you guys enjoy it as much as I did. Enjoy <3 )

WARNINGS: 18+, smut, mutual pining, angst, repressed feelings, jealousy, mating bond, friends to enemies to lovers, soft meaningful sex

Being born into the Autumn Court as a high fae was a punishment worse than death. The constant backstabbing of court members, the unrelenting criticism from your parents on how you needed to be better than the next person, and the wicked games everyone played were enough for you to want to run as far away as possible. Every waking moment of your life was full of fake smiles and feelings to try and pacify the ones in charge. 

But for you to grow a crush on one of the most dangerous men in the Vanserra family? To lie awake at night fantasizing about life between the two of you? It was like adding poison to the never-healing wound.

And yet here you sat, lying underneath a great oak while the leaves fell around you while reading some silly romance and picturing Eris rescuing you from a tower. It was pathetic, and you knew in your heart after many years of him keeping you at arm's length, that there was nothing between the two of you. 

You had grown up with him, chased him around the castle as kids and taken lessons together as teens. Both of your mothers were close, and so were you, or so you thought. As the years passed and his mother had more children, Eris grew more cold and distant. 

If you did see him, it was only in hallway passings or the occasional dinners and dances. Even then he would turn you down, not even meeting your eyes as you would bow your head and go off with your other friends while trying not to look back.

Sometimes he would talk to you for a minute, though it looked painful for him, and every time he did it would rekindle that dying flame in your soul. You had never yearned for someone like this. And as the hopeless damsel in your book swooned over the prince who had just picked her for a dance, you realized you were no better off than her.

“Is it good?” A low voice said above you, snapping you out of your daydream and making you jump in surprise. Your head turned sharply, eyes widening when you saw Eris leaning against the tree you were tucked away in with a smirk on his face.

“E-Eris!” You exclaimed, pushing up to your feet immediately to address him properly. He watched as you bowed ever so gracefully, head tilted down, before rising back up to meet his eyes. “What are you doing out here?”

“I needed to talk a walk.” He explained while looking up at the sky, mouth downturned. “Fathers can be rather irritating, wouldn’t you agree?”

You nodded in understanding, your hands fisting the sides of your dress. Everyone knew how Beron treated his sons and his wife. He had no qualms in hiding his distaste for them and you always felt bad when one of them got publicly beaten or humiliated, especially if it was Eris. Your father wasn’t half as bad as Beron but he was still overbearing and demanding perfection, never taking your opinion into consideration.  

It was the price you paid for being a member of the court. 

“I’m sorry he’s being a pain.” You say sincerely. Eris’s eyes turned back to you, some unknown emotion flashing through them before fading away. “Is there anything I can do?”

“Ha.” He scoffed, looking you up and down in amusement. “Thank you for the laugh, Y/N. I needed that.”

“What? You don’t think I could take on the old man?” You grinned, taking a playful fighting stance as you used to as a child. “If I remember correctly, I beat you plenty of times so I think I could handle it.”

It was silly, acting like this in front of him and being a fully grown adult, but it was rare that Eris sought you out for company and you wanted to make the most of it. If anything, at least get him to smile. That was all you wanted. 

“Oh yes, you are very fearsome indeed.” He smiled, his body relaxing for the first time in months. You saw the change and couldn’t stop the butterflies that blossomed in your belly, especially when he licked his lips and shook his head at your juvenile actions. “The entire Autumn Court would quiver under your feet.”

“I’m glad we see eye to eye. Just imagine it, standing on the-” You said while raising your foot proudly, not noticing the large root directly in front of you. It caught the toe of your shoe and you fell forward, cutting off your sentences as the ground rushed toward you. 

You braced for the fall but it never came, two strong arms catching you before you could smash your face into the cold earth. The force of your descent sent the both of you tumbling and Eris groaned when his back hit the ground, his breath catching in his throat.

The air went still around you as you realized your circumstances, your body pressed against his own as he watched you with uncertainty and worry. Both of you were sharing the same breath, heartbeat thudding in your ears, and you could have sworn he leaned forward slightly into your touch.

But when the sound of footsteps approaching hit his ears, he pushed you off without so much of a warning. You cursed softly as a tree branch scraped against your cheek, rushing to stand and brush yourself off without so much as a hand offered from Eris.

“Eris? Are you out here?” Someone called, peeking over the ledge above you. It was one of his younger brothers. He saw the two of you and smirked, raising an eyebrow. “Am I interrupting something, brother?”

“Hardly. She wasn’t watching where she was going and ran into me.” Eris responded, his tone now cold as ice. “What do you want?”

His brother didn’t look entirely convinced but didn’t push the subject, moving his gaze from you to his brother. “Father is looking for you, or rather sending us to look for you.” 

“I’m coming. Tell him I apologize for losing track of time.” Eris growled, barely looking back at you as he started to climb the stairs.

“I just am hurt you didn’t share the name of your new lover, Eris. I thought we were closer than that.” His brother taunted, leering at you which made your skin crawl. The situation had gone from the moment of your dreams to a nightmare in a matter of seconds and the sting of Eris’s dismissal was making it worse. 

“Please.” Eris scowled, removing a leaf from his hair and looking down at you. “She holds no interest of mine any more than the peasant woman in the streets.”

It felt like he had just stabbed you and twisted the knife to get as deep as possible, his eyes full of cruelty. His brother laughed as they walked back towards their home while you sunk to the floor, hot tears burning your cheeks.

How could you be so, so careless with your feelings? Why on earth did you keep this candle of hope alive for someone like him, someone who obviously couldn’t stand the thought of you? 

It was a harsh reality check and you felt like your entire body had been dipped in ice water. The trees rustled around you in a song you didn’t want to hear, burying your head in your arms as you pulled your knees to your chest. After all this time, all the two of you had been through. You had finally reached your breaking point.

Eris Vanserra was not the man you thought he was. He had grown to be like his father, a comparison you never thought you would make. It was time to grow up and leave childish dreams behind, and that started with him.

You wiped your eyes and nose on your sleeve, the book from earlier lying on the ground. It was open to the page where they get married, sealing their love with true love’s kiss, and in a fit of anger, you grabbed it and chucked it into the woods. 

There was no such thing as happily ever afters in your world.

It had been a week since the incident with Eris and although it was getting better, you still found yourself moping around late at night. Time would heal the wound but as your mother stood behind you, styling your hair to perfection, you hoped tonight would speed it up.

“Oh, my darling, I am so glad you agreed so readily to Cadoc. When he approached your father I was sure you would have your doubts but,” She sighed happily, looking at you in the mirror proudly. “You knew what to do…for the family.”

“Of course, mother.” You responded almost robotically, the fake smile you have perfected over the years gracing your face easily. “I would do anything for our family.”

She turned you around and patted your cheek before gathering her things and leaving, calling over her shoulder to be ready to leave soon. As soon as the door shut you let out the breath you had been holding and walked to the large mirror, taking in your attire for the night.

The dress fit you perfectly as did the accessories, making you feel like royalty. It wasn’t every day that you got engaged so you might as well enjoy how you looked. Your parents had orchestrated a grand dinner to be held in the great hall of the Forest House to celebrate. An invitation was sent out to every single member of the court.

Of course, that meant the Vanserras were attending but you didn’t want to focus on that. Eris was in your past, worth no more than a speck of dirt on the giant emerald ring that rested on your finger from your fiance. 

And if you were being honest, you could do far worse than Cadoc. He was an affluent member of the court, his father owned quite a bit of farmland, and most importantly you had never heard of him laying a hand on a woman. It was a low bar to be set but you would take him over someone like Aagun who proudly boasted of the bruises he would leave on his wife.

Someone knocked on your door and you took a deep breath, squaring your shoulders and following your mother down the steps and into the hallway where your betrothed was waiting for you.

As you drew closer to the doors, you felt fear bubble into your gut, the weight of the situation dawning on you. You were about to walk into your engagement party, with a man you barely knew, and then in a month's time, you were to be wed. This was what you had been raised for, to be a wife and mother, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that what was happening was wrong. 

Like you were going against fate itself.

But when Cadoc rounded the corner, his own parents flanking his sides, you knew you could not say anything. It would put your family at risk to deny such an advantageous marriage and embarrass them in front of everyone. You had to do this. 

He stopped in front of you, his green eyes dull but soft, and lifted your hand to kiss. You smiled politely as you had so many times before, trying not to compare the way his touch felt to Eris’s. “You look beautiful, Y/N.” He complimented, not letting go of your hand as you both turned to face the doors that were about to open.

“Thank you, Cadoc. You look as handsome as ever.” You replied, the words tasting foul in your mouth. He gave you another reassuring smile just as the large, oak doors opened to reveal the two of you. 

The sound of applause echoed around you as you let him lead you into the great hall, everyone’s faces blurring together as the lights shone too bright. You could feel the air get harder to breathe but you did your best to control it, smiling brightly as you finally arrived at your table. 

“Thank you.” You murmured as he held out the chair for you, making sure you were comfortable before taking the seat beside you. Both of your families took their respective places and the feast began, music starting up from somewhere in the corner of the room. 

You didn’t even wait for the server to finish pouring your glass before you all but snatched it and downed it one gulp. If you were going to get through this, you needed to be at least a little buzzed. Your mother shot you a glare and you apologized, placing the glass back down and turning your attention to the decorations.

It was beautifully decorated, all the colors of fall present with touches of gold. The candles were all lit, including the giant chandelier above your head, and it made the entire room glow like embers. You noticed how well dressed everyone was as well, though you were the only one in cream, and couldn’t help but think back to when you would attend these parties as a teenager. How you would think the bride-to-be was feeling, the excitement of wanting to be in her seat. 

And the irony that now you sat, staring at the table of children, and envying their innocence. 

A flash of red hair caught the corner of your eye and before you could stop yourself, you were now fully facing Eris. He was sitting at his family’s table, in the front of course, with a dark scowl on his face. All of the emotions you had been shoving down were threatening to rise to the surface, the memory of his wicked words bouncing around your brain.

So, with all the grace of the woman you were raised to be, you drew your lips into a tight line and turned away to face your fiance. Cadoc immediately turned to you and you took the opportunity to lean forward and give him a chaste kiss on his lips. 

He seemed shocked at your boldness but fixed his face before anyone noticed, returning your kiss with his own. You could feel the eyes of everyone on you and you decided you needed another drink, the food now being served giving you an excuse to drink as many glasses as you wanted.

As the night went on you could feel your body relax, though the same couldn’t be said for your thoughts. You were having to consciously stop yourself from seeking out Eris and every time you stumbled, he was always glaring at you or Cadoc. It was starting to get on your nerves but before you could get too heated, or do something stupid, your fiance decided it was time to dance.

All the lessons you took as a child paid off well when it came to your ability to dance. The music made your soul feel light as you twirled in his arms, following his lead and smiling at the clapping of everyone watching. You were surprised at how well Cadoc danced, both of your bodies easily falling into line, and you started to think that perhaps your earlier concerns were just pre-engagement jitters.

That or the wine had really gone to your head.

As the song came to a close and you began to bow to him, you gasped as he pulled you into his body and kissed you deeply. You had no choice but to kiss him back, wrapping your arms around his neck as your friends and other members of the court cheered you on. 

Cadoc finally pulled back and blushed, letting you take a step back as another song began. “I’m sorry about that, Y/N. I got caught up in the moment.” He apologized, scratching the back of his head. You knew he meant it and although the kiss didn’t feel right at all, you didn’t want to hurt his feelings.

“It’s fine, Cadoc. I promise. Shall we have another dance?” You asked, motioning to the other people who had joined the dance floor. He let out a sigh of relief and nodded, reaching for your hand only to grunt when he was not so gently pushed out of the way. 

“Excuse me-” He began to say before you both looked up and saw who had done it. Eris was staring at him as one might stare at a sworn enemy, his eyes full of fury as he raised an eyebrow in question.

“I’m sorry, did I interrupt?” Eris asked, already knowing the answer. You could feel the arrogance rolling off of him as he stared down Cadoc. “It truly was not my intention to break up such a happy couple.”

“What do you want, Eris?” You snapped, making them both turn to you in surprise. Cadoc looked worried, knowing you could easily be beaten for talking to him like that, while Eris seemed…hurt?

“I came to ask for a dance, if your fiance doesn’t mind.” He replies, barely glancing at Cadoc. When he went to answer you cut him off, the wine in your belly making it harder to control your emotions. 

“If he doesn’t, I do.” You grabbed Cadoc’s hand and began to lead him away only to hiss when you were pulled back roughly. 

Eris was fuming, his nostrils flared, and you met his rage with your own. He had no right to try and dance with you after what he had said. You knew he was doing this to get a rise out of you, to make you relive his words, and you were kicking yourself for not realizing just how cruel he had become.

Before the two of you could start an argument, you felt Cadoc let go of your hand. “It is no trouble, my lord. I was going to visit anyways.” He reassured while backing away, giving you a look that said ‘don’t do anything stupid’, and disappearing into the crowd.

A throat cleared in front of you and you let out a huff of frustration, facing Eris once more. He motioned to the group of dancers and you rolled your eyes, following his lead into the swarm. 

The music was loud and dominating, much like the man before you, as he twirled you into his arms. You could feel his muscles underneath the flimsy silk of his shirt as you both battled for the lead. It reminded you of your dance lessons as children, neither one of you wanting to give an inch.

“Still a stubborn dancer, I see.” He said, smirking at the scowl on your face.

“I just don’t have the right partner.” You retorted, your skirts gliding between the both of you as the music began to pick up. “It’s why I am so glad to have Cadoc.”

Eris’s jaw ticked at the mention of his name, his hands tightening around your own as you spun around once more. When he pulled you back into his arms, he made sure you felt every inch of him, his head dipping down to your neck sensually. It almost made your knees give out, cursing your body on its weakness before you shoved away from him and went back into the proper stance. 

“Don’t do that. Not here, not ever.” You warned him, trying to keep your voice low so as not to alert anyone around you. The last thing you wanted was for a rumor to start before your marriage could even get off the ground. “Do not act like you have a claim to me.”

“I thought that’s what you wanted.” His voice was teasing, his words making your head fuzzy. You couldn’t figure out what game he was trying to play, why all of a sudden he was acting like this of all places. “I thought you wanted me, my attention.”

And as the music reached a crescendo, both of you gliding through the mass of bodies, you realized what was happening. Eris was jealous. He knew your feelings, had known all along, and yet he only cared when you had moved on. 

With the wine, the music, and the realization of just how fucked up this situation was, you couldn’t hold in your anger any longer. You pulled away from him forcefully, glaring at him with all the hatred you could muster. He looked taken aback by your show of emotions and you had to resist the urge to smack him across the face.

“Do not ever come near me again, Eris Vanserra.” You seethed, fists curling at your side as everyone continued to dance around you. “I hate you.”

You didn’t wait for his reply, turning sharply on your heel and storming past everyone and out the doors. Some people turned to look at you, whispering to each other, but you could care less. You needed to get away from everything.

The hallway was cool and dark as you started to run to your room, your heels clicking against the floor. You had to lift your skirts in order not to trip, not daring to look back in fear that he was chasing you. When you reached the staircase that led to your floor you finally stopped, taking a deep breath and leaning against the wall.

Tears were prickling the corner of your eyes and threatening to ruin your makeup but you were powerless to stop them. You placed a hand over your heart as you tried to process what had just happened, knowing people were going to start looking for you soon. All you had to do was make it to your room.

Just as you went to peek around the corner to see if anyone had come out yet, a warm hand slapped over your mouth and drug you backward and into the darkness.

After a moment you felt your feet hit solid ground and the hand release you. You wasted no time in raising your fist and swinging at your kidnapper, your eyes widening when your hand was caught by Eris. He glared at you, your fist inches away from his face, and pushed your hand back down to your side.

“Where are we?” You asked loudly, taking multiple steps backward as you surveyed the room. He went to cover your mouth again to hush you but you shoved him with all your strength, not wanting any part of him to touch you. “I swear on the Mother if you try to touch me-”

“Will you be quiet?” Eris hissed, thinly veiled anger lacing his words as he glanced toward the door. “They are sure to be looking for you and unless you have an explanation for the dramatic exit you just made, I would think you should be thanking me for rescuing you.”

If there were ever a moment that steam could come from your ears, it would be now. Your vision turned red at the edges as you laughed in disbelief. 

“Thanking you? Have you gone mad, or is that your ego grew so much that your brain got squished?” You raged, the fire that lay deep within your bones making its way to the surface. “None of this would have happened if you would have stayed far, far away from me. You have no right to pretend that all of a sudden I am everything you desire now that I have moved on from you.”

Eris took a threatening step towards you, making your back hit the cool wall behind you as he stared you down. “Is that then? You’ve moved on because some boy gave you a pretty ring and promised you the moon and the stars?” He asked snarkily, tilting his head as your eyebrows scrunched together at his implication. “Do I mean nothing to you?” 

You swallowed the burning lump in your throat and raised your head up high, your heart breaking as you said, “No more than the peasant down the street, Eris Vanserra.” The words were not what you felt, not at all, but after everything he had put you through you were not about to give in to him when he realized what he wanted too late. This was caused by his actions, not yours.

He stood there and you watched the words sink in, your soul crying out as you saw true pain in his eyes. You were no better, your hands shaking as you pushed past him and made your way to the door. 

“Y/N,” Eris called painfully, grabbing your hand before you could touch the handle. 

You knew you should have snatched your hand back, should have opened the door, and never looked back, but you couldn’t. There was something in his voice, a desperation, that pulled a string in your heart you didn’t know existed. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath before turning to face him, bracing yourself for the worst.

“Don’t leave me.” He pleaded, sinking down to his knees in front of you. It was a sight you weren’t prepared for, to see the heir of the Autumn Court begging for you, and it made your eyes widen in disbelief. “I can’t lose you. I know what I have done, what I have said, cannot be taken back. I know that.”

Eris looked down at your hands, at how different they were, and took another steadying breath. “I thought I was protecting you. I did not want to subject you to the horrors of what my life is like, what my family is like, and so I did my best to keep you away.” 

“I wanted to keep you safe but when I saw you with him, dancing and kissing like you had known him your whole life, I couldn’t stop myself.” You could hear the pain in his voice as he pressed on, looking up at you once more. “I acted out of spite. I thought I could endure it for you but I can’t, not with you not knowing the truth first.”

As he rose up, you let go of his hands, your brain trying to understand everything he just said. Eris had treated you like this to protect you from him and his family, wanting to keep you safe from what being with him would surely entail. It was a huge revelation and while your soul sang for the joy of the situation, you had one question that needed to be answered.

“You don’t hate me?” You whispered, your voice wavering in fear that this was all a dream. 

He cupped your face in both hands, wiping away the stray tear that had escaped, and said earnestly, “I have loved you for my entire life, Y/N. My feelings for you have never waned nor faded, it is a love that the Cauldron destined and I have been the most ignorant fool to run from it for so long.”

As soon as he stopped speaking, you felt that same string from earlier tug you closer. It felt so real that it made you look down in confusion, wondering what it was. When you looked back up, Eris had an entirely different emotion in his eyes. 

Hope.

“Can you feel it too?” You asked incredulously, the old stories of fated mates shimmering in your mind. It was considered a fairytale by most with how rare it was. Even you brushed it off as fantasy. 

Eris nodded, a small smile creeping onto his face. “I’ve felt it for a while, though I refused to believe it. I couldn’t understand what I did to deserve you as a mate.”

You wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him down to your height, pressing your foreheads together intimately. Unlike with Cadoc, this felt entirely right. For the first time in years, your heart was content as he pulled you closer to his body. 

“My mate,” You breathed, staring at him through your eyelashes as he gazed at you adoringly. “I cannot think of anyone more deserving of love than you.”

He closed his eyes, letting your words cleanse his body and give him the peace he needed. The room was quiet and warm as you held each other, sharing the same breath as you both basked in the radiance of finding your other half.

And when he brushed his nose against yours, you smiled and followed his lead into the kiss you had been dreaming of for years. His lips worked against yours slowly, savoring the taste and feel of your skin as your fingers threaded into his long, auburn hair. 

With great care, he guided you backward until you fell onto his bed. You let out a soft laugh, smiling up at him and admiring the twinkle in his eyes that hadn’t shone since you were kids. He placed both of his arms beside your head and bent down to kiss you again, his hair creating a curtain around the two of you.

Your heart was doing cartwheels in your chest as you took a leap and deepened the kiss, licking his bottom lip shyly to see if he wanted more. Eris immediately opened his mouth for you, letting his tongue slide against your own as you moaned prettily underneath him. 

The need you had for him to touch you, to claim you, was growing by the second, and if the tent in his pants told you anything, it was that he felt the same way. You gasped when his teeth caught your lip and tugged, a feeling akin to a branding iron filling your belly at the action.

“I want more.” You whispered, your chest rising quickly in small breaths. “Touch me, Eris, please.”

“Oh, how I’ve dreamt of you saying those words.” Eris purred, brushing a stray hair out of your face tenderly. “But I need you to understand what that means. If we go further, you will be mine, body and soul, no one else’s. Do you want that?”

You nodded and rose up to your elbows, making sure he held your gaze. “I’ve never wanted anything more. It’s always been you.”

Eris looked for any sign of doubt in your eyes but found none. He stood up straight and offered his hand, watching you take it without hesitation. “Then let me bed you properly.”

He pulled you to stand with him and turned you towards the giant hearth, the fire dancing for you as he began to undo the laces of your dress. Every graze of his fingers against your skin made you shiver in anticipation. You raised your arms and undid the pins in your hair and took out the jewels, letting your hair fall naturally. 

“You are so beautiful, Y/N.” He murmured against your skin, tugging the sleeves down until your back and shoulders were bare to him. Your eyes fluttered closed as he kissed up to the nape of your neck, his hands holding your hips as he undid the final lace. “Every inch of you.” 

Your dress started to fall off of your body, and you didn’t stop it, the material pooling at your feet as Eris took a step back to admire you. The urge to cover yourself was strong, but he spun you around before you could even think about it, his eyes full of desire. 

His hands were itching to touch you, to feel how soft your breasts were in his hands, but he maintained control. Tonight was about you. “Never in my life have I seen anything so bewitching.”

A blush rose to your cheeks at all the praise he was giving you, making your insecurities float away with the wind. You took a deep breath and reached behind you, undoing your bra and letting it fall to the floor with a soft thud. He bit the inside of his cheek as you followed with your panties, watching him as you slid them off to join the rest of your clothes.

“I believe it is my turn, my lord.” You tease, sounding more breathless than you would have liked. Eris smirked and opened his arms for you to start, his eyes never leaving your body as you began to strip him down. 

It was hard to put into words how intimate this was. You had dreamed of doing this with him, spent many sleepless nights touching yourself to the very idea, but as you stood here, you were nervous. So many questions on if he would like what he saw, and what you did, were swarming around your mind.

Eris must have sensed your uncertainty because as you went to remove his pants, he stopped you, fingers tight on your wrist. “We can stop at any time, Y/N.”

“I know, I just,” You faltered, memorizing every scar and freckle on his chest before looking up at him. “I’m nervous it won’t be what you want. I won’t be what you want.”

He sighed and placed a finger under your chin. “I can see I need to do a better job at making up for my previous statements.” He pointed out, lifting you without warning and carrying you to the bed.

You started to protest, but he shushed you, kissing you lightly before letting his lips go lower and lower on your body. Every kiss felt like fire, your hips arching slightly when he arrived at your breasts. He wasted no time in lavishing them with attention, sucking and licking your nipples until they stood at attention. 

“Oooh.” You moaned, a wave of arousal making your sex slick as he took in your every reaction. The entire time he was toying with your body he was praising you as well, telling you how wonderful you were and how you were everything he wanted. 

As he moved on from your breasts, your stomach began to flutter in excitement. He nestled himself between your thighs and spread you open without warning, groaning as the smell of your arousal and the sight of your gleaming cunt made him feral. 

“Do not take your eyes off me, do you understand?” He told you, throwing your legs over his shoulders so he could eat you out properly. “I want you to watch as I make you cum.”

The words were filthy but made a tingle go down your spine, nodding in understanding. Eris smirked and then began his feast on you, immediately going for your clit. It was a pleasure that had you crying out his name already, your hips bucking against his face as he sucked it into his mouth and hummed to increase your heat.

“Oh my gods!” You moaned as he switched from your clit to your hole, licking up every drop of nectar he could. “Eris…”

“You taste fucking divine, Y/N.” He growled into your pussy, his fingers digging painfully into your thighs. His cock was aching to be free, to rut into you and spill his seed so that everyone knew you were his. Just the thought made him move one hand to shove down his pants so he could fist himself.

Your ears perked up as you heard him getting himself off, the visual making you even wetter as he continued to pleasure you with his mouth. He was going to make you cum soon, faster than anyone else had. You started to let out little moans and whines as you ground against his face, wanting this to last forever but also wanting to cum.  

“Are you about to cum, mouse?” Eris taunted, his balls tightening as you cried out a small “yes!” He went back to your clit and flicked it over and over again, making the tip of his tongue just hot enough to send you spiraling into the best orgasm of his life.

“Eris!” You squealed, soaking his face as you threw your head back into the pillows from bliss. He burned the image into his memory as you reached up and started to pinch your nipples to prolong your pleasure, riding out the euphoria until you couldn’t handle the stimulation. 

He sauntered up your body like a fox, kissing you forcefully so that you could taste yourself on his tongue. You met his passion with what strength you had left, grasping his face with both hands. 

“Please, Y/N,” Eris panted into your mouth, kicking his pants the rest of the way off before rubbing himself across your slit. “I need you.”

“Take me, make me yours.” You commanded, spreading your legs further. 

Eris looked down so he could watch himself sink inside you, the warmth and tightness of your cunt already making him want to bust. You groaned loudly at the stretch, grasping onto his upper arms as he continued until he bottomed out inside you. 

Both of you were drunk on each other, the mating bond making everything feel ten times more intense as he pulled back out and slammed back in. The headboard rocked behind you, but neither of you cared. If anything it spurred you on.

“You feel, ah!” You whimpered, biting down on your lower lip as he lifted your hips with both of his hands to give himself a new angle. “Fuck me, Eris…”

He growled as your hands fell back to the bed, grasping at the sheets so hard he was sure you were going to rip them. The way your tits bounced as he fucked you was hypnotic, the firelight illuminating your sweat-slickened skin making you look like a goddess. 

“All mine.” He swore, eyebrows furrowed in concentration as he felt the first tingles of his orgasm in the base of his spine. “Forever.” 

You nodded fervently, feeling another orgasm sneaking up as you watched him in awe. His muscles were rippling with each thrust, his hair stuck to the sides of his face, but what had you most fascinated were his eyes.

They were staring directly at you, pupils blown wide, and they were full of utter devotion. It showed you a man who would do anything for you, who would love you always. 

And as you watched him throw his own head back in ecstasy, his throat bobbing as he began to fill you up, you knew you felt the exact same way. He was your mate, and you were his.

“Forever.” You repeated before chanting his name, your walls squeezing him unbearably tight as you came on his thick cock. The feeling of his hot cum made you crave more, clawing at his chest until he bent down so you could kiss him intensely. 

Eris intertwined your hands together as he began to slow down, looking over when he felt cool metal on one of your fingers. It was your engagement ring. You were still coming down from your own high as he took it off and, without a word, threw it into the fire behind him.

“My mate.” He proclaimed into your neck, closing his eyes as he rejoiced in the words. You were his forever.

[kpop-zone]

Itzy reaction to falling for a staff member

Yeji

Yeji didn’t know how you had managed to catch her attention in only a split-second, but she knew that it would be a huge problem. How was she supposed to look at the camera when the person behind it was the most stunning one that she had ever seen? While the PD was explaining to them how this filming day would go, Yeji couldn’t stop stealing glances at you. Everything about you was simply mesmerizing. Even her members started to notice her weird behavior.

“Yeji, where are you going? Here’s your spot. The PD-nim has just explained it to you. What’s wrong with you today?”

Ryujin asked confused when her leader walked into the wrong direction and Yeji bashfully walked to her spot.

“Of course. I knew that.”

She chuckled nervously, but her members stared at her suspiciously. They weren’t used to seeing her this unfocused.

“Are you ok?”

Lia probed concerned and for a moment, Yeji wondered whether she should tell them the real reason for her distractedness. Then, however, she figured that her little crush on you was too insignificant to talk about. This was a professional working environment, she couldn’t and wouldn’t let it show.

“Yes, I’m just still a little tired. But I’ll give my best now!”

Yeji smiled while holding her fist in the air to give her statement more meaning and her members copied her. They depended on her. So, when the shooting began, Yeji tried to stick to her promise. She wanted to be a good leader and role model. Sometimes, however, when the camera wasn’t focused on her, she couldn’t help but to look at you. And sometimes it even seemed like you were stealing glances at her too. But Yeji didn’t allow herself to read anything into that. The group would always come first, and she didn’t have any time for distractions right now.

Lia

“Honestly I can’t even tell you when it happened.”

Lia whined while letting her head fall to the table with a thud, causing Yeji to pat her back.

“Don’t be so harsh on yourself. The heart simply does what it wants.”

Her leader tried to comfort her, but Lia still couldn’t believe that she had fallen for you. You were just friends and co-workers one moment and the next, her heart suddenly wanted to jump out of her chest every time she saw you.

“What am I supposed to do now?”

Lia pouted in hopes that her members could save her from this unfortunate situation. They could always relay on each other, so Lia hoped that one of them would come up with a sparkling idea. But unfortunately, all of them just looked at each other helplessly.

“I don’t know. Tell Y/N?”

Yuna eventually proposed, causing Lia to gasp.

“Tell Y/N??? Are you insane? Do you know how many things could go wrong? I mean what if my feelings are one-sided? Or what if they aren’t? It’s not like we could date?”

Lia felt like crying. Her situation was plainly hopeless. The only thing that she could hope for was that her crush for you would eventually just disappear. Although she knew that that was a foolish hope. It was more likely that she would perish from pining over you eventually...

Ryujin

“Wow your skin is glowing today, Ryujin!”

You praised Ryujin as soon as you stepped in front of her to do her makeup, causing her to smirk to herself.

“Hm maybe it’s because my day got five times better after seeing you.”

She winked cheekily in hopes to make you flustered, but instead you mirrored her expression.

“Or because you’re drop-dead gorgeous...”

You stated confidently and Ryujin’s jaw dropped.

“What?”

She asked dumfounded, feeling how a blush rose to her cheeks. Clearly satisfied with the effect that you had on her, you grinned from ear to ear and Ryujin shyly looked at her lap. She hadn’t expected you to flirt back. For weeks now, she had used every chance to bluntly communicate her attraction to you, but she had never actually thought that you would reciprocate any of her feelings. Nervously, Ryujin fidgeted with her fingers when you lifted her chin up to start doing her makeup. Flirting with you was a lot easier when she had thought that she didn’t have a chance. Now -all of a sudden- she realized how much trouble she could cause the two of you if she would continue to pursue you. Therefore, she refrained from dropping more flirtatious remarks and thought about the different paths that she could go from here instead. She couldn’t really risk both of your careers for this... or could she?

Chaeryeong

“Hi Chaeryeong.”

Happily, you greeted Chaeryeong with a wide smile playing on your lips like every morning. But like every morning, Chaeryeong could barely manage to look into your eyes.

“Hi.”

Her voice was almost a whisper, causing a dark shade of pink to spread in her cheeks.

“What was that? Hi...”

Ryujin laughed loudly while mocking Chaeryeong’s thin voice. The other members joined into her laughter and Chaeryeong hid her face behind her hands in embarrassment.

“Chaeryeong...you really have to stop making an idiot out of yourself every time Y/N is around...”

Yuna giggled and Chaeryeong hit the maknae scoldingly.

“I’m trying! But when Y/N looks at me...ugh...”

She huffed frustrated, causing the other members to laugh even louder.

“Seriously though... Y/N is our manager. You really need to get used to their presence.”

Yeji looked at Chaeryeong with a serious expression before patting her back encouragingly when she started pouting.

“I know but I can’t help it. My heart starts racing every time Y/N smiles or jokes around with us or...”

Chaeryeong started gushing over you but Ryujin interrupted her.

“...just breathes?”

She giggled, causing Lia to punch her when she saw that Chaeryeong was almost dying of embarrassment now. Was she really that obvious? Were you aware of her feelings then as well? Mortified, Chaeryeong let her head rest on Lia’s shoulder, allowing the older member to wrap her arm around her to comfort her. Why did love have to be so complicated?

Yuna

“Hey guys? I have a few questions...”

Yuna asked casually as all of them were lounging in the living room, waiting for their managers to pick them up, causing the older members to make some acknowledging sounds while typing away on their phones.

“So...is an intern a full staff member? Like you know...do the same rules apply to them as to the managers?”

The maknae continued and Yeji looked at her with confusion written all over her face.

“Um...yes they are. They also need to sign a contract.”

The oldest replied hesitantly, clearly not knowing what Yuna wanted with that information.

“Hm ok. So... purely hypothetical, what exactly would happen if a staff member would date one of us?”

Finally, Yuna’s question caught the attention of everyone in the room and all the members dropped their phones to their laps at once. Suspiciously, they eyed the youngest member who tried to win their goodwill by grinning cheekily.

“Why do you want to know all that?”

Ryujin narrowed her eyes and looked at Yuna sternly.

“No reason...”

She replied sheepishly, but the others didn’t buy into her lie.

“This is about Y/N, isn’t it? Yuna, you’re not doing something stupid, are you?”

Lia exclaimed, sounding half panicked, causing Yuna to avoid her gaze.

“Well...”

She trailed off and her members groaned in unison.

“I knew it! I told you guys that she’s flirting!!”

Chaeryeong yelled as she leaped to her feet.

From one moment to the other, agitated chatter broke loose in the living room and a thousand different words hailed down on Yuna. She had known that her members wouldn’t be too excited about her confession, but she had still wanted to get their advice. Especially because she knew herself that a relationship with a staff member wouldn’t be ideal. After seeing the panic in her members faces though, she wondered whether it had been reckless of her to flirt with you so freely the past weeks. Maybe she should wait until after your internship would end...

[sevlgi]

how it feels

requested: no

group: stray kids

pairing: hyunjin x gn!reader

genre: fluff, slight angst

contents: high school!au but there’s not much school involved, best friend!hyunjin, mutual pining, hyunjin’s a hopeless romantic

warnings: none

synopsis: comforting your best friend after a breakup usually doesn’t involve making him fall in love with you, but both of you just want to know what it feels like.

a/n: yes hello please enjoy this fic that i’m randomly dropping in the middle of my hiatus 🙃 i’ll hopefully be able to write a gg fic of some kind for y’all soon! the ending of this is so fucking lazy, sorry

word count: 5.3k

“Why, Y/N? Can’t she just tell me why?”

“I know,” you comfort, rubbing your best friend’s back as he sniffles with his knees up to his chest. It’s hard to see him in the darkness that’s brought by the blanket resting over the both of you like a tent, but in the glow of Hyunjin’s phone, you can see the tear tracks on his face. “I’m sorry, Jinnie.”

He pouts and scrubs yet another tear off his cheek, lamenting, “Why can’t I never fall in love with someone who loves me back? We’re only in high school, it shouldn’t be this complicated.”

Dabbing at his face with a tissue, you sigh, “I guess you have bad luck. Or bad judgement, could be both. There are plenty of people who are dying to love and appreciate you, you know, you’re the one who never spares them a glance.”

Hyunjin shakes his head. “No, those people only think I’m the long-haired guy from the dance team. They would treat me the same,” he frowns tearily. “I just want someone who likes me first.”

It always goes this way for him, you know-- you’ve seen it too many times, the stages of your best friend falling in love with someone who leads him on, enjoys his company for a while before dumping him and his expectations in the dirt. Maybe it’s the undeniable pressure to be the perfect partner that Hyunjin wants more than anything, or maybe he just always ends up liking assholes. But either way, it’s carnage for Hyunjin’s heart, and he never gets used to it no matter how many  times it happens.

He’s too sensitive and warm-hearted for his own good, so all he can do after the latest breakup is cry into his favorite pillow on a Tuesday night. If you weren’t so willing to immediately come to comfort him, Hyunjin would’ve been doing it alone, too, and he would’ve cried for far longer than he has.

“Who do I go to prom with now?” he questions sadly, breaking you from your recollections about the many times you’ve done this before.

Unfortunately, all his question does is make you laugh. “It’s a serious question!” Hyunjin protests, scowling at you.

“Okay, I’m sorry,” you say, still chuckling. “I mean, would it be so bad to go to prom with a friend? I’m sure Yeji- wait never mind, not Yeji… I’m sure someone would go with you for appearances’s sake. Or if you don’t mind, just ask Lix, he’s too nice to say no even if he wanted.”

“That doesn’t make me feel better,” he says, flopping back onto his bed. The clock by his bedside reads 2:33 am, and you can already feel your physics final cursing you. “I want to go with someone I feel something for, you know? It’s our prom, Y/N, I want to feel the prom-ness of promposals and picking out outfits and all that with someone I love.”

You shake your head and push his knee lightly. “Unfortunately, most people our age haven’t even been in love yet, so I doubt many people can help you feel it. But you know what I’m feeling right now?”

“Please don’t say pancakes,” Hyunjin groans, “I’m not waking my parents up to teach us how to use the stove again.”

Throwing a pillow at him, you roll your eyes, “I feel tired, dumbass. And we have finals tomorrow, so how about we invite our friends out to get boba afterwards so we can find you a prom date? You can complain all you like about how the three weeks before prom happens are too short to fall in love, yadda yadda.”

“Fine. But don’t mock me, my many feelings are perfectly valid,” your best friend warns you, and rolls over to turn the light off.

Seungmin frowns when Hyunjin finally shows up at the entrance of the school’s closest boba shop, looking slightly disheveled from dance practice. “Finally. You’re annoying, and late.”

“Jeongin’s later,” Hyunjin objects, plopping down in the spot next to you and accepting the drink you hold out to him. The amount of mango yogurt with boba he drinks is definitely unhealthy (and expensive), but he’ll only groan more about his breakup if you didn’t get it for him. “Why do you literally never complain about him?”

“Jeongin’s cute, and you aren’t.”

The long-haired boy scoffs and sips at his drink sulkily as Felix returns with his own order. “Oh, hey, Hyunjin. I didn’t see you arrive,” Felix smiles sunnily. “Jisung’s not coming today, by the way. Something about having to stay for detention.”

You raise your eyebrows at that new piece of information. “Really? For what?”

“Playing a song entitled ‘Fuck You Bitch’ in Bio, I believe.”

Seungmin snorts in laughter, sighing fondly, “Sounds like him. Anyway, I heard we’re here to solve the problem of Hwang Hyunjin’s prom date. Or… lack thereof?”

“You’re so mean,” your best friend groans. 

Ignoring him, you clasp your hands on the table and lean in conspiratorially. “I doubt any of you haven’t heard at this point, but he got dumped, for lack of a better word, and now, like the rest of us, Hyunjin has no prom date. But unlike us, he actually still wants one.”

“I’ll go with you,” Felix offers, still chewing on the straw in his mouth.

You elbow Hyunjin, who pushes you back before responding. “Thank you, Lixie, but like I explained to Y/N, I want to go with someone I’m in love with. I want to know how it feels, you know?”

“I don’t know,” Seungmin deadpans. At Hyunjin’s crestfallen expression, though, he says, “I mean, we can definitely try, but I feel like the rest of the people left in this school are either too young or not your type. And is 3 weeks really enough for you to be ‘in love again’?”

“Knowing me, maybe…? But I think I’d need to know the person already,” your best friend pouts.

Jeongin arrives then, conveniently missing most of the conversation before he squishes in on the end of the booth. “Well, you better not try to fall in love with me,” the youngest grins.

“I’d never pick you,” Hyunjin jabs back. “But out of the people I do know…”

“I volunteer,” you joke.

Your friends snicker, thankfully, but the boy sitting right next to you turns with a thoughtful expression on his face. “Actually…”

“I don’t like that expression,” Jeongin narrows his eyes.

“I think I could fall in love with Y/N in 3 weeks,” Hyunjin says nonchalantly, as if it’s nothing. He completely ignores all the shocked expressions around him.

In truth, as easy as Hyunjin falls in love, he’s also incredibly easy to fall for. You’d never admit it to him, but you have loved him before, with the kind of burning passion that he somehow has with every one of his relationships.

You’re over it, and you have been for a long time, but him saying that maybe he could love you so very easily makes it all come back up to the surface. “For real?” Felix questions.

“I mean, I don’t like you yet--” your heart falls (stupidly)-- “but I think I could.”

“So… what do you want me to do?” you ask.

Hyunjin smiles, so pure and beautiful that you wonder how his girlfriend just left him, and says, “I want you to help me figure out how it feels to really be in love.” He scrambles to interrupt Seungmin, whose mouth is opening. “It’s just three weeks before prom. We’ll just feel happy together, none of the other shit--”

“You are so cheesy,” Jeongin interjects. “And I think you’ve watched too many dramas. Did you pause to think how Y/N feels about your plan?”

You appreciate your younger friend’s considerateness, but the guilty expression on Hyunjin’s face prompts you to say, “I mean, I don’t think I could like you like that, so… sure. I’ll help you.”

“Really?” All three of your friends ask as they turn to you. 

“Yeah,” you shrug. “What, you fall in love with me in three weeks for prom, I don’t reciprocate, but we move on as friends? I think it’ll be fine.”

“It never works like that though,” Seungmin doubts. He isn’t as cynical as he seems, but in the presence of overly-optimistic Felix and Hyunjin, he and Jeongin always end up as the voice of reason. Usually, you’re with them, but this time, you’re the one enabling the idiocy of the new plan.

Hyunjin grins, “Then we’ll make it work like that.”

With the amount of time that passes before Hyunjin mentions his plot again, you almost forget about it. The first week is normal in a way that makes you nervous-- you hang out like normal, doing homework in the library with your friends as Minho harrasses Chan, eating lunch wherever you can find a spot. There isn’t really time to be alone, just the two of you, and you aren’t sure how Hyunjin is supposed to ‘fall in love’ with you if it’s just normal.

Of course, it doesn’t last long.

It takes a while for it to set in that when Hyunjin asks you to go watch a drive-through movie with him, it isn’t just so he can show off his brand-new car. It’s a date, and it’s stated painfully clearly in his text from the night before.

However, you don’t realize it until you’re literally getting into his car in front of your house.

“Wait. This is a date, isn’t it?”

Hyunjin chuckles nervously, looking over at you in the passenger seat, and you notice for the first time that he’s put on a bit of makeup, and his car doesn’t smell like Jisung’s hot cheetos for once. “I mean, yeah. I meant it when I said I wanted you to help, and I thought you did too? It doesn’t have to be one if you’re backing out, though, it’s totally fine.”

“I’m not backing out,” you shake your head. You really aren’t-- so far, nothing has happened that would make you want to back out yet, and no freshman-year feelings for your best friend have resurfaced just yet. “I just forgot. You know me.”

“Yeah, I know your goldfish brain,” Hyunjin teases, setting the car in motion. There’s lo-fi playing, and he’s a good driver, so you relax. “You forget everything.”

“I do not! You’re the one who has to be reminded of everyone’s birthday but mine,” you protest. If he wasn’t driving, you would shove him, and you remind him of that, to his dismay.

Hyunjin hums as soon as the two of you fall into comfortable silence, your foot tapping lightly to the music, and with the sun setting on the distant horizon, it’s so familiar. You try to interrupt the peace anyway. “So, what movie are we seeing?”

“10 Reasons I Hate You,” he answers. “It’s a classic, and you haven’t seen it.”

“And you love romcoms,” you finish.

He doesn’t protest, only sending you a small smile. You’re pulling into the theater already anyway, in one of the better rows to watch the movie as Hyunjin turns his radio on and starts fiddling with it. “There’s snacks in the backseat,” he offers, to no surprise.

They’re some of your favorites, though there are also the chips that he can’t live without. There’s a blanket, which drapes awkwardly over the cupholder between the two of you, and a bottle of juice that you place in his lap immediately. “You like watermelon juice more than I do.”

“Thanks,” he says quietly, almost surprised.

You scowl and poke him, allowed to now that you’re safely parked and waiting for the movie to begin. “Don’t act all shocked, we’ve been friends since orientation and I’ve spent more than half my paychecks getting this damn juice for you.”

“Mean,” Hyunjin protests, but he hands you your favorite soda from under his seat anyway. “And shut up, it’s starting.”

He seems to know the intro to the movie, smiling when the first line of dialogue sounds, all crackly over the shitty radio, and you eventually stop staring at him to watch the movie instead. Of course, you can’t keep yourself from asking, “Why do you like romcoms so much, anyway? You’ve never explained to me, for all the ones I’ve watched with you.”

“I like happy endings, I think,” the long-haired boy responds after a short pause to think. “Not to be dramatic, but I haven’t had one yet, so maybe watching other people being happy makes me happier too.”

You nod, taking it as a perfectly acceptable answer. Knowing how sentimental your best friend is, it’s nowhere near a stretch, either, being something that just fits with his personality.

He talks occasionally to tell you a little tidbit that he knows: by the end, you’ve learned about how it’s a modern adaptation of a rather misogynistic Shakespeare play, how the entire movie was shot without sets, and how the scene of Kat reading the poem was the first take. It’s interesting, of course, but you’re more captured by the way Hyunjin’s smile glints in the weak light filtered through the car windows.

The sky is dark when the credits roll and Hyunjin reaches for the steering wheel, almost too dark for you to see anything outside when you’re driving back to your house.

“So? How was it?”

“How was what?” you ask, moving your hands around vaguely. “The snacks? The movie? The date?”

“All of the above?” Hyunjin says hesitantly.

You answer immediately, “It was perfect. You knew that, though.”

“I didn’t really. I mean, I’ve never taken you on a date,” he muses. “And plenty of the people I’ve dated before weren’t even willing to watch a rom-com with me.”

“Then that’s their problem,” you say. “Anyone who isn’t willing to watch a rom-com with you is just an asshole, and I stand by that.”

Hyunjin smiles sweetly. You’re parked by the curb in front of your house at this point, so it’s slightly more easy to see the silhouette of your friend’s face. “That’s nice of you. I dunno though, I wouldn’t want to label everyone who doesn’t like romcoms as an asshole.”

“That’s not what I mean.” You shift a little bit to face him, pausing before you explain, “I think that if someone is so unwilling to try something that means so much to the person they like, then they don’t really like them.”

“I guess. You know, there’s another reason why I like romcoms so much.”

You don’t speak, waiting for Hyunjin to explain. And he does. “I think romcoms give me hope,” he nods. “Like… they make me think that anything’s possible, not just happy endings. Maybe the person who I don’t even have a chance with secretly likes me back, you know?”

“I can’t really imagine someone who wouldn’t like you if you liked them, but I think I get it,” you smile.

“At least you try. See you at school next week?”

“Come on, we both know that Binnie’s dragging all of us out to beat Chan’s ass at bowling,” you sigh, taking it as a sign to open your car door. 

Before you make it completely outside, though, Hyunjin’s hand rests on your wrist. “Y/N, thanks for tonight.”

“Anytime,” you respond breathlessly, closing the door a little louder than you probably should.

You do mean it.

“Remind me again why we have to go prom outfit shopping together?”

Hyunjin pouts, peering in the window of yet another shop. His arm rests gently on your shoulder despite the way you jokingly pushed it off at the beginning of the day, but you really don’t mind. “Isn’t it cute to have matching prom outfits? We should be color-coordinated in some way.”

“I mean, sure… but isn’t online shopping just easier?” you ask, raising your eyebrow. “It’s the 21st century, Jin.”

“You’re so unromantic,” he groans, and finally pushes the door open to a thrift store to lead you inside.

You wrinkle your nose at the heavy smell of perfume that hits you as soon as you step inside. “And you watch too many movies. You’ve known me for almost four years, you aren’t going to have some magical moment where you realize you like me just because I put on a sparkly outfit of some kind.”

“Who knows? Maybe you’ll suddenly think that you love me when you see me in a tux,” Hyunjin grins.

You don’t respond to that, and he doesn’t push it, taking it as just another joke of his. Of course he doesn’t know about freshman year, and he definitely doesn’t know about how you still aren’t sure if that crush ever subsided. He shouldn’t know. 

He’s too picky to pick something at the first store, you know, so you just follow him around as he flicks through things that are either too fitted or too loose, too patterned or too plain. 

It takes three stores for him to finally something that he likes, and he appears from the dressing room with a gorgeous grin on his face. “What do you think?”

“It’s… good. I mean, you look good,” you clarify. Of course Hyunjin looks perfect in anything, but the dark navy jacket over the patterned button-down he was already wearing just seem like they were a combo meant for him. 

He isn’t satisfied with your response, towering over you as you slump lower in the chair. “Just good?”

“Hot. Stunning, beautiful, sexy-- is that what you want to hear?” you respond sarcastically.

“That’s exactly it!”

Rolling your eyes, you pick up your things from the chair and say, “Then we’re done? Are you picking this one?”

“Yeah, but what about you?” Hyunjin asks. “Do you already have something, or are we going to get something? I’m still waiting for my kdrama moment, you know.”

You definitely don’t have something at home, but you don’t think you could bear being on the receiving end of the drama moment that your best friend so desperately wants. Something about having him suggest something for you to wear, reacting as dramatically as you know he will, just won’t allow your old feelings for him to sit still.

“I’m good. Let’s check out, and get some ice cream?” you offer to placate him.

Hyunjin grins and offers his arm to you again, practically skipping to the checkout. “Sounds perfect to me.”

“Y/N, what the hell do I wear on a date?”

“How should I know?” You sound listless, flicking through one of the mangas that one of Changbin’s friends left as his house.

“You literally went on a date with your freshman year crush last week and then picked a prom outfit with him,” your friend scowls, tossing a shirt at your face. It’s clean, thankfully, but you still chuck it back at him.

“In my defense, I forgot that it was a date,” you respond, “and shut up about the ‘freshman year crush’ thing. I never would’ve told you if I knew you would use it against me like this.”

Changbin throws yet another piece of clothing in your direction, narrowly missing your face, and you raise a pillow to threaten him with. “You got me into this mess with Felix in the first place, so I think it’s even.”

“It’s not a mess if it’s what you asked me to do,” you complain, “and besides, you wouldn’t stop talking about this date for the past week despite it literally just being something we do together all the time.”

“I like Felix, I don’t like you.”

“Then I’m leaving you to agonize over your collection of colorful track pants on your own,” you warn, and he subsequently shuts up. “There we go. Don’t wear one of those, by the way, even though Felix wouldn’t say a single thing about it.”

“How was the date, by the way? And the three-year-old feelings?” Changbin asks as he continues to dig in his closet.

You hesitate. “It was… nice? Hyunjin knows way too much about Julia Stiles, but he was super enthusiastic and the movie was pretty good. He got the good snacks, too.”

“You know that’s not what I meant,” he sighs. 

“Then what did you mean, Mr. ‘I Love Lee Felix With My Whole Tiny Brain’?” you challenge.

Changbin doesn’t take the bait, unfortunately. “Jeongin told me about the whole plot you and Hyunjin have going on. Are you really dumb enough to think that you can get him to love you without falling for him again, and then leave him after it?”

There’s no way to respond to his question without making a complete fool out of yourself, and so, you simply don’t. Apparently in one of his more coherent moods, Changbin continues on, “I’d say that you watched too many movies, but I’ve seen you avoid Hyunjin’s movie nights. What the hell is going on with you?”

“I mean, have you seen the way he looks when he wants something?” you answer unintentionally. “Obviously you weren’t with us at the at the boba shop, but I’m serious. I couldn’t say no to him, especially when he’s heartbroken.”

“What does he look like?” Changbin asks.

You sigh, “He… his eyes get kind of shiny, almost like he’se about to cry but not really like that. And I don’t really know, he just looks like he’d be sad if you said no but wouldn’t talk about it, and that’s the part that makes you want to say ‘yes’.”

“It sounds to me like your three-year-long crush is still here, then,” your friend replies. “Because I have never felt that way about Hyunjin before, but I know what expression you’re talking about.”

Staring at him like he’s grown two heads, you realize that he’s wearing a jean jacket that shouldn’t have taken so much time to pick out. “That’s a stupid conclusion.”

Changbin shrugs and picks his phone up on his way out. “You can think about it as stupid if you want, but I’m usually not wrong about this. I’m going now, do you want a ride or something? You can stay here as long as you want, though.”

“I’ll walk home, it’s still noon,” you answer. You need to think, anyway.

He walks to the kitchen for a drink of water, he claims, but he picks up his phone on the way there, presumably to talk to Felix like the lovey-dovey fool he is. You wrinkle your noise and wander in the hallway, fully intending to bully Changbin about his crush as long as possible.

But his low voice, echoing from the kitchen, definitely doesn’t sound like flirting. When Changbin strides out, on a mission, it’s obvious that something is wrong. “We have to go,” he says. “Jeongin and Hyunjin got in an accident.”

Fear bubbles in your throat, and you yank the front door open harder than you could’ve thought possible. “What? How? When? Is it just the two of them? Are they okay?”

“Minho says that he doesn’t know yet, he’s driving there too. They aren’t calling the police, they’re apparently fine enough to get us,” Changbin says as he backs out of the driveway. “But we better get there as soon as we can.”

“Then drive,” you exhale sharply, slamming your seatbelt on as if it’ll stop your heart from beating out of your chest.

You leap out of the passenger’s side before the car even stops moving, finding Minho and Chan’s cars both parked at the side of the road behind the silver one that you remember to be Jeongin’s parents’. There’s a huddle of people there, Seungmin and Jisung parting so that you can make your way to the center.

To your relief, both your friends are okay; Hyunjin’s sitting on the trunk of the car, massaging his legs, and Jeongin’s definitely wincing a bit too much when he moves his neck. The car is dented, but not to the point of no repair.

Still, anger clouds your vision.

“What the hell’s wrong with the both of you?” you almost shout. “And what the fuck happened?”

Hyunjin starts, “Y/N, calm down. I was trying to teach Jeongin to drive, and we went a little off course--”

“Teaching him to drive, on the damn highway?” you question furiously. “You barely got your license three months ago, I get that you’re a good driver, but you aren’t a good enough driver for this! Whose idea was this?”

Jeongin timidly raises a hand, but Felix stops you from saying anything more. “Let’s all calm down, okay? Y/N, our friends are fine,” he says, low voice barely audible over the wind whipping around. “Everyone’s alive, which is the most important part here, and we can fix the car, which isn’t all that important. Let’s just focus on getting someone here to help, okay?”

“I’ve called my uncle to come and tow the car, we’re just going to get Hyunjin and Jeongin to the hospital, okay?” Seungmin reassures you. “Changbin’s car is too small, and you’re the better driver, so you and Hyunjin take it. Jeongin will come in Minho’s car with me, and we’ll meet you there.”

You nod stiffly and get into the driver’s seat first, pretending like you don’t notice how Chan pulls Hyunjin back to talk with him.

You shouldn’t have gotten angry; it doesn’t make sense to be angry at all. You should’ve been scared, worried, anything but angry, and so, you can only try to calm your breathing by the time Hyunjin sits next to you and Chan’s car sets off.

“Why are you so mad?” he asks quietly.

It’s the wrong thing to say; you turn your head to him, incredulous. “Why am I mad? You could have died, both of you could have died!”

“And? How many things have we all done together that could’ve ended with us in a ditch?” Hyunjin raises an eyebrow. “Hell, you were the one who decided that it would be fun to jump from the roof into Seungmin’s pool last summer, what’s changed? I get it, it was stupid, but you’ve never been so mad about something like this before.”

You exhale, tapping your fingers on Changbin’s steering wheel as you follow your friends’ cars. “To be honest, I don’t know.”

“Okay.”

It’s completely silent after that, at least until you reach the emergency room.

Jeongin and Hyunjin are fine, thankfully; the youngest has twisted a muscle in his neck, but it’s nothing that can’t heal on its own, and Hyunjin’s knees are merely bruised. Jisung’s the one who tells you, the older two of your friend group apparently dealing with the parents of the injured.

“Are you okay, Y/N?” he asks, patting your arm. “You reacted a little… adversely earlier. Did you and Hyunjin have a fight?”

“Why is it always about me and Hyunjin?” you ask with narrowed eyes. “Can’t I be mad because they almost got themselves killed?”

Jisung raises an eyebrow. “You never get mad when we almost get ourselves killed, that’s Chan’s job. And you were basically yelling straight at Hyunjin, I’ve never seen the guy so scared.”

You exhale and sit back in the creaky hospital chair. You wish you could tell Jisung if there was something wrong, but you honestly don’t know what it is. “I don’t know. Do you think there’s something wrong with me?”

“You tell me, dude,” Jisung chuckles. “I think you should think about it. I mean, there’s barely two weeks until prom now, you barely have time to back out anymore.”

“Why would I back out?” you stare at him.

He pushes you to stand, and only says, “Think about it yourself. Okay?”

You don’t tap out, but only because you don’t get Hyunjin alone enough to do so.

After your little yelling fest at him, he obviously doesn’t want to just talk to you, despite how you publicly apologize to both him and Jeongin. You don’t sit together during movie night, you sit at opposite corners of your study table in the library.

Until Felix’s parents invite all of you over to take prom pictures, all you get is a stilted silence.

“You look nice,” he mumbles when the two of you get ushered together in a pair. Except for Felix and Changbin, all the others are by themselves, and you wonder why Hyunjin was so hellbent to get himself a prom date when almost everyone else didn’t bother.

He himself looks absolutely perfect, his hair styled to perfection and a slight pink glittering on his lips. The suit that you picked out together is paired with a patterned shirt that you’ve never seen before, and it perfectly matches your own hastily-purchased outfit. Hyunjin offers a flower to you, color-coordinated, and you hold it in one hand with the other on his arm. “Thanks. You too.”

“Okay, smile, everyone!” Felix’s mom grins behind the camera. “Couples, stand closer together a little bit!”

With a (rather convenient) nudge from Minho, Hyunjin’s hand slips onto your waist, and heat rises to the tops of your ears. Felix’s mother is pleased, though, and the photos carry on with the occasional hoots of laughter when Jisung smacks a kiss onto Seungmin’s cheek and gets clocked as a result.

Conversation is never stilted when you’re with your friends, so despite the silence between Hyunjin and you, there’s no awkwardness during the ride there. Silence only falls when it’s just the two of you standing together in the corner of the venue, all the others off to dance or raid the buffet table.

You decide to speak first. “Are you pissed at me for yelling at you? Because I said I was sorry, and I am.”

���I’m not pissed at you,” Hyunjin shakes his head.

“Well, you’re sure acting like it,” you snap. With a sigh, you end up apologizing again, “Sorry. I just… I know that the plot was mostly a joke, just to take your mind off of the heartbreak and stuff. I kind of messed it up.”

“You messed it up?” He stares at you.

“Well, yeah… I yelled at you, didn’t I?”

Hyunjin sighs, almost like he expected a different answer. “No, that didn’t mess anything up. I mean, I got what I wanted, anyway.”

“And what was that?”

“I fell in love with you.”

It’s your turn to watch him, completely shellshocked. The sparkling, multicolored lights of the venue bounce off him like an otherworldly glow, and his eyes sparkle even though he’s avoiding your gaze. Maybe all the people falling at his feet, you included, are onto something. “I mean, it’s not exactly what I wanted,” he blabbers. “I wanted to be in love without it hurting, and obviously that failed, but… I should’ve known that it wouldn’t even take three weeks for me to love you.”

“Hyunjin.”

Your best friend still doesn’t look up, so you just ask softly, “Why does it hurt?”

“You don’t like me back, of course it hurts,” Hyunjin frowns. 

“Who said I didn’t like you back?”

He’s quiet, eyes flicking up to you like he thinks it’s Jisung pranking him or something. “Do you mean it?”

“We’re stupid, Hyunjin,” you laugh. “We’re so, so stupid. I had a crush on  you since we met, for two whole-ass years.”

“Well, I liked you for almost four, so I think I beat you there,” he says. But there’s a relieved smile on his face, his eyes curving prettily as he reaches for your hand. “Then… do you want to dance?”

“No romcom shenanigans,” you warn, but you allow yourself to be tugged out to the dance floor next to your friends with a smile.

Hyunjin’s grin as you twirl him around under the burning neon lights suddenly makes it seem like everything will just... magically be okay. If you had just been a little more courageous (or a little less stupid), maybe you could’ve seen it earlier.

But good things come with time and patience. And with all the patience you’ve had, waiting for this to happen, the way you finally feel with him makes it all worth it.

[yourmidnightlover]

three, four squeezes

Summary- spencer finds watches you take what he thought was your last breath. turns out they weren't, but you're now in a coma. 

TW: coma, fem!reader, spencer pining, angst/fluff ig?, blood, gunshot

WC- 5,681

masterlist

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guilt.

regret.

pain.

fear.

spencer couldn't stop fiddling between as he rode with you in the back of the ambulance.

the guilt he felt as he realized that everything was his doing, his fault. if he wouldn't have froze and if he would've told you how he felt neither of you would be in this position.

the regret he had of never telling you how he felt. he never got to hold you as more than best friends and kiss you like he's wanted to so, so, so many times.

the pain of seeing you in so much pain. and the fear that worsened when you accepted the fact that you would die in his arms

the fear that the last time he held you was when you confessed your darkest secret to him. you never got to hear him tell you how much he truly loved you.

he took your much smaller hand in both of his and pressed it close to his chest, right on top of his heart as if he was trying to tell you what his heart had tried to make him.

he froze.

he shouldn't have froze.

he should've held you and told you how much he loved you. how much he wanted you. how much he's always wanted you.

he should've kissed you and never let you out of his sight. because maybe, just maybe, if he hadn't let you go then you would have never gotten hurt.

he was the reason you were dying.

he was lost in thought when the holter monitor held a steady, long beep. you had flatlined.

-

you felt the warmth radiating over your skin as you shifted in your position to sit up. you took in your surroundings.

you were in an endless pasture, filled with tall grass that would reach your knees if you had stood up. the sky was perfect, clear, baby blue color that you haven't seen in a while. you were laying on a red blanket with a picnic basket by your side.

the smell of fresh flowers and fresh grass filled your nose. the calming scent bringing you the peace that radiated around you as you observed further into this place.

you had on a flowy, pastel purple sun dress and a pair of white flats on. you turned your head to the side, only to notice you weren't alone.

"spencer!" you cheered excitedly as you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him into your touch. "you're here," you breathed out.

"i am here," you felt the vibrations of his chuckle. "but you shouldn't be here."

you pulled back and looked at him confused. "wh-why not?"

"because," he pushed a strand of hair out of your face as he gazed into your eyes. "you need to go back, sweetheart."

a rush of memories flooded your brain.

you confessed your past, your regret, your love.

he didn't love you back.

you were shot.

"i... i don't want to go back," you admitted with furrowed brows. "i want to stay here. with you."

he looked at you with what seemed to be pity. he scooted closer to you and wrapped his arm around you to pull you closer to his body.

"you can be with me back there. you know that," he said as he rested his chin on the top of your head.

"no, i won't. not-" you took a deep breath, "not like this."

"but this isn't even real. i'm just a figment of your imagination. you're disassociating with your body, and i'm your safe place," he said nonchalantly, as if hearing that didn't break your heart even more.

"but i want to be with you, spence. i've ruined everything out there. you don't want me," you spilled, letting a tear slip past your eye and down your cheek.

"i will always want you, y/n. always," he assured you as he pressed a kiss to your hairline.

"how do you know?" you looked up at him with pleading eyes.

"because i'm a genius. remember, sweetheart?" he chuckled.

"promise me?" you said as you turned around and held his hand, squeezing it in anticipation.

"i promise. go back, y/n. you need to go back." he repeated.

"not yet. just a little longer with you, please. just a little longer with you," you pleaded.

-

spencer had to let go of your hand so the doctors could get the defibrillator. he began shaking before he told himself to be strong. he had to be strong for you.

"please don't leave me..." he prayed for the first time in a while to a god he wasn't even sure he believed in. "don't die on me."

one of the paramedics ripped your shirt open so they could begin to start the chest compressions. spencer hated seeing you so helpless, lifeless, hopeless.

"charge to 260!" one of the doctors yelled before yelling clear and connecting it to your skin.

nothing.

"charge to 350!" she pressed it to your chest and abdomen one more time.

suddenly the monitor began beeping steadily again. you were alive. not okay, but you were breathing.

you had a heartbeat again.

you weren't leaving him yet.

"oh thank god!" he exclaimed as he watched the paramedics leave your side, allowing him to fill their void. he took hold of your hand once again and pressed his lips to it as he watched the paramedic on the other side of you monitoring everything going on with your status.

"thank you, y/n. thank you so much," he placed another kiss on your knuckles as he used his to wipe his tears away.

when you had made it to the hospital he decided to finally call morgan and garcia. he would let them know what happened, minus the whole love confession part, and ask them to alert the rest of the team.

morgan replied in asking if she was okay, and asked for the details later when he got there. garcia was just rushing to get out of her apartment and to the hospital to check on her 'little cherry blossom.'

garcia got there first no doubt breaking a few speed limits in the process, but he didn't mind because now he wouldn't be alone with his own mind. she engulfed spencer in her arms and let him sob it out as she did the same. she didn't ask what happened, she knew he would tell her when he was ready.

morgan took a bit longer, surprisingly. although, in his defense, he did live on the other side of town. upon arrival, he just placed a firm hand on spencer's shoulder and sat beside him in a seat, silently providing his own comfort.

jj was next to arrive. she was already in tears when garcia had called her to make her aware of the news. she gave spencer a tight hug before sitting beside garcia.

when emily got there she raced to jj to ask if they had any information yet, they didn't. she checked on spencer, making sure he wasn't losing his mind completely. she finally settled down and sat beside jj, placing a comforting hand on top of hers.

rossi and hotch arrived at the same time, they were both working late, finishing a few extra case files. they went around comforting the rest of the team, and made sure to pay extra attention to spencer.

everyone knew how close the two of you were. you were like bonnie and clyde, but rather you both solved crime instead of ensuing it. and they knew how much it pained him to see her in pain. even on cases when she would get wounded, spencer would pay the utmost care and attention to you.

spencer didn't say a word. he didn't say what happened. nobody asked. they sat in silence, with almost constant tears from the fear of losing you, waiting for answers to how you were doing.

after a few more hours, jj decided to ask the doctor yet again on any updates on your condition. she quietly got up after letting go of emily's hand and walked over to the front desk.

"ma'am," jj asked the receptionist, "is there any update on y/n y/l/n and her surgery. it's been a few hours now and we're getting wo-"

"y/n y/l/n?" a doctor came into the waiting room holding a clipboard, waiting for someone to claim her company.

spencer jumped up from his seat when he heard her name. everyone had refrained from using in fear of striking something in spencer. they didn't want to upset him more than he already was, so they just kept their mouths shut.

"yes?" he excitedly asked, feeling the sweat in his hands and the exhaustion overwhelming his body.

"she's out of surgery now. she's in a stable condition, but there's some bad news," the doctor grimaced as the others waited expectantly for the rest of the news. "she had a prolonged period of time without oxygen to her brain, she's now in a coma. we aren't sure when she'll wake up," the doctor finally spewed out. "you can go visit her now. maybe one at a time so she can decipher who's who. she can hear what you say, so make it positive and encouraging," he concluded.

spencer looked back at the team, waiting for them to signal that he could go visit her before following the doctor to your room.

spencer walked inside and saw you lying there, lifeless while barely alive. and it was all his fault. you told him it wasn't his fault. in what you thought were your last moments, you wanted him to be at ease. while you were bleeding out from his stupidity, you still claimed your love that he never told you he returned.

and for that he would never forgive himself.

oh, what he would give to hear your laugh again. to see your smile, feel your touch, smell your hair once more. he wanted you back.

so he did the only thing he could do. he sat by your side and grabbed your hand for the millionth time and held it to his cheek, trying to feel your warmth.

"hi, y/n," he started off, deciding to give this whole 'encouragement' thing a try. "there are a lot of studies on whether or not someone can hear whilst their in a coma, but i'm going to try it anyway," he tool a deep breath.

"you're the strongest woman i know, and i meant it when i told you that earlier tonight. i know that you can get through this. i want you to know that i'll be here for you every step of the way. i promise. i-i'll take off every day until you wake up. i have to take a sabbatical anyway, so i can just ask them if i can take it early. if i can't then i'll make garcia come here every single day and i'll call her so you can hear my voice," the tears filled his eyes once again.

"i-i need you here with me, y/n. please," he begged for what felt like the millionth time that night.

"spence," jj called from the doorway. "would you mind if we all talked to her for a minute? then you can come back? i need to get back to my boys now that i know she's going to be okay," she said with a bit of guilt at the thought of her being able to go home.

home to her husband and children.

y/n has always wanted children. she'd be such an amazing wife, and an even better mother. spencer wanted the chance to witness her being a mother first hand, and maybe even being the mother to his own children.

he wanted to give her everything she's ever wanted. he wanted to stay with her until he was forced to have to leave.

truth be told, the day you walked into the bau, you changed his life forever and he didn't even know it. he thought it was just going to be another temporary fill in, until you performed so well at your job that the bau just had to hire you permanently.

you're so amazing at everything you do. everything you've ever done. you always push yourself to be and do your best, something spencer has grown to love and admire you for.

so he just hopes you have a reason to fight. a reason to fight for your life, to fight for him. he hopes that you have hope.

"yea, of course," he pressed his lips to your knuckles one more time before leaving the room, hugging jj on the way out.

garcia was right outside the door, waiting for spencer to come out so she could give him a hug. she wrapped her arms around his torso as his went around her shoulders.

"she's strong, spencer. she'll get through this," garcia tried to comfort him.

"you should've heard her. she-she sounded like she was ready to give up hen she was lying there, bleeding out on the ground," spencer pulled back to look at garcia. "i can't lose her. n-not now."

"you won't lose her," she placed a comforting hand on his shoulder before he nodded to her and walked back into the waiting room, being met by emily's own embrace.

"i'm not gonna tell you how strong she is, because i think we all know that by now. but you can talk to me, reid. that's what you have to know. you can talk to any of us," she consoled before pulling back, her hands still gripping his shoulders tightly.

"sh-she told me she was in love with me," he said out loud for the first time.

"what?" emily's eyes widened at the realization before she pulled his hand to go into an empty room. "explain, please?"

"she told me she was in love with me," he repeated. "and i froze," he sighed.

"you froze? what do you mean? i thought you loved her too?" she pondered, a confused look clouding her face.

"how'd you know that? and yea, i do love her. i love her so much it hurts," he looked down at his feet. "i didn't say it back because i couldn't believe it was happening. i-i mean have you seen her? she's the definition of perfect and she said she loves me."

"oh, spencer," she said before giving him another hug, allowing him to break down in her arms.

"she walked out after that," he grimaced. "when i started walking back to my place that's when i heard the gunshot and called the ambulance. then i noticed it was her and i broke. it's my fault she was out there. if i would've told her how i felt she would've been in my arms and safe. instead, she's in a coma because i was too confused to say anything," he vented.

"it's not your fault, reid. you have to know that," she said before pulling back. "it's the guy who shot her's fault. not yours. you didn't pull the trigger."

"i might as well have. she doesn't know how i'm in love with her," spencer whined, feeling more hopeless than he did when he was kidnapped and drugged.

because at least then, he knew the team would be coming for him.

but he didn't know if you ever wanted to come back.

when you were lying there, dying, it was like you were saying goodbye as he held you in his lap. his hands, pants, and even shirt were covered in your blood.

he hadn't even noticed. he didn't care to notice. you were the only thing on his mind. everyone else knew he wouldn't leave without knowing your condition, so they didn't bother telling him to go clean up. emily noticed him eyeing his own appearance.

"go change. i'll call you if we have any updates. relax, please. she's not going to leave you," emily said before shooing him away to clean up.

spencer went to his place to change quickly and take a shower after morgan gave him his hoodie to wear on the drive there. meanwhile, emily walked out into the waiting room and took notice of morgan in his own worry.

"she'll fight. we know she will," emily confirmed as she walked to sit beside him.

"i know she will, but i'm also worried about the kid," morgan moved his head out of his hands as he looked at emily. "he told me how he was in love with her. and i'm willing to bet this has something to do with that. he's been through so much, he doesn't deserve to lose another person in his life."

"i know, you're right. he doesn't deserve this, nobody does, but he especially doesn't deserve this," emily said as she put her hand over his back, rubbing it soothingly.

"i'm gonna see if i can have my turn talking to y/n," he stood up and walked to your room, taking notice of jj still inside and penelope waiting patiently.

he wrapped his arms around garcia and let her cry as jj finished up inside before exiting and saying her goodbyes to everyone, allowing penelope to have her turn to talk with you.

showering helped spencer more than he thought it would. being covered in your blood was more frightening than he thought, so seeing his own skin on his hands was much easier for him.

he drove himself back to the hospital, wanting to avoid more prying eyes of cab drivers taking notice of his obvious grief and panic.

when he walked inside, hotch was inside your room with rossi, despite the 'one-person-at-a-time' rule. he knocked on the outside of the doorframe, alerting the two of his presence.

"kid. hey," rossi came up to greet him, giving him a quick hug before hotch did the same.

"reid, we know how close you two are, so just know that she's probably fighting to get back to you, the rest of us too, but especially you," hotch declared with a pity grin.

"i hope you're right," he glanced back in the room to look at you. "i really hope you're right."

spencer walked back into your room after the two older men left. he scooted the chair closer to your bed and held your hand. he crossed his arms on top of your bed, your hand still in his, and laid his head down on his arms.

he waited.

and waited.

and waited.

there was no progress.

he wanted you to come back to him. he wanted to feel your touch again and hear your laugh. he wanted to tell you how he felt. he just wanted you.

he was able to work at home on the few cases they received, and took his paperwork to your hospital room when he wasn't able to finish it as quickly as normal.

as the weeks went by, his hope began to dwindle, but his determination only grew. he was determined to be able to tell you how much he loved you while you were awake, so he refrained from spilling his guts while you were still unconscious.

he would read you books. your favorite books. the books you would ask him to read to you when you were feeling sad and wanted to hear his voice to calm you down.

he played your favorite songs. the songs you and him listened to on the way to work or to museums he would beg you to go to with him.

he even played chess with you. granted, he was more so playing himself acting as you. he would try to play whatever moves he felt you would play against him.

he cried with you. he cried for you to come back to him. he cried that you never stop fighting. he cried that he would get at least one more time to talk to you.

but one day the doctors noticed that you were able to breath on your own. they were able to take the tube out of your mouth and throat and nose. that was his hope. your strength was his hope.

he sped to the hospital that day, wanting to see you as soon as he could. it had been three weeks since the shooting, and he desperately needed the sight of your chest moving up and down voluntarily, a sign of your own breath breathing life into your body.

emily just nodded her head at him to go when he stormed into her office, she had received the same call seconds earlier.

when he came into your room, he as already in tears at the new progress. he brushed your hair out of your face and pressed a kiss to your forehead.

"keep fighting, y/n/n. you're so close to coming back to me, to us, to the team. please keep going," he begged as he sat down by your side. "i got the call about you being able to breath on your own, and i ran into emily's office. she didn't even need to say anything, she knew it was you," he smiled momentarily.

"i can't wait to be able to hug you again, and feel your warmth again. i uhm, i never told you this, but we've kissed," he smiled at the memory. "it was that night you were drunk and told me about your parents. you had kissed me after i told you how beautiful and amazing you were, and how wrong your parents were. i kissed you back, too," he gently bit his lip at the confession. "i-i didn't tell you because... i shouldn't have kissed you back. god, i've always wanted to kiss you, but not when you were drunk and vulnerable. i felt like i took advantage of you, and i hated that i did that to you. so, i never told you," he frowned at the hidden secret.

"but please, please, please come back to me. please let me kiss you for real this time. let me tell you how i feel, and hold you forever and ever. please just don't leave me. i won't be able to take that, y/n. i know how selfish that is, but i can't live without you. these past few weeks without hearing your voice has been hell," he frowned.

he had called your phone every day since the shooting just to hear your voice on the voicemail. those 29 words have been one of the things he's loved listening to when he woke up. he'd never admit it, but you'd realize it once you checked your phone.

another thing he loved doing was look through his videos of you. in one particular video, maybe even his favorite, you had taken his phone and began recording him on it.

you knew he hated his own appearance, although you'd never understand why, so you secretly took his phone and began recording him.

"hey spence! can you come here?" you called as you were in the living room, waiting for him to bring you your chicken tandoori.

"yup! i'm coming!" he came racing out with the two boxes of takeout, giving you one as he sat on the couch. he didn't even notice the phone with how you placed it in your hands.

"thanks handsome," you teased, although you meant every word you said. his face automatically blushed at the compliment, but he rolled his eyes nonetheless.

"oh, shut it," he said before stuffing a piece of chicken in his mouth. you giggled at his reaction, his favorite sound in the world.

"never. i don't know why you think you aren't attractive. you're so beautiful, spence, i'm surprised you don't already have a special someone," you nudged him with your elbow, the phone now being rested against your thigh to get a perfect view of him. you could see the smile he tried to hide by biting his lip gently.

"but i guess that does mean i get to spend more time with you, so i won't object," you laughed out before finally taking a bite of the food.

spencer noticed the phone on your thigh after you took a bite, his eyes widening at what he realized you were doing.

"y/n! why were you recording me?!" he exclaimed, trying to grab the phone and succeeding. he turned the camera on to you as you began laughing loudly at his reaction. "what do you have to say for yourself, ma'am?" he questioned.

your smile was brighter than ever, your face red from all the laughing. you were wearing one of spencer's sweaters, your favorite one. you had taken a couple because 'they're cozier' than yours. you put your hands up in surrender.

"i guess you caught me, hot stuff," you laughed before he placed the phone down and began his tickle attack on you. "ahhh! spencerrrr! please!" you laughed out. "i surrender!" tears of laughter were streaming down your face.

"fine. i think you've paid your penance," he joked before grabbing the phone and turning the camera on only you once again, you blushing from the action. "y'know you're really beautiful, right?" you smiled widely at his confession, sensing the sincerity in his voice.

"thank you, spencer. so are you, truly beautiful," you smiled even wider before he finally turned the camera off.

he remembers that day like it was yesterday. he'd like to claim it was because of his eidetic memory, but it was also because of you.

you had gotten the weekend off and decided to spend it together, once again. you had stayed the night with him all weekend, you insisted on sleeping on the couch to which he objected, forcing you to take the bed with him.

you had woken up cuddled in each others arms, facing each other like you had been hugging the whole night. spencer felt the most content he had ever felt in that moment, never wanting to let you go or wake you, so he waited for you to wake up.

that was the best weekend he's had in a while. you two acted as if you were in a relationship, domestic. it was delightful.

there was another picture the two of you had taken after a rather successful case.

all the missing children were found safe, a rare occurrence, so you had gone out to a bar to celebrate. it was mostly emily, morgan, and garcia's doing, so you had all eventually agreed once you figured out they wouldn't back down.

you had known how spencer was at bars, he was sometimes rather uncomfortable with all of the people. it made him anxious and a bit intimidated. so after you had all met up at the bar and you noticed how nervous he was, you intertwined your arms and took his hand in yours.

"my mom used to do this thing when i was anxious or nervous to calm me down," you whispered, wrapping your other arm around his one as you squeezed his hand three times. "it's supposed to be our way of assuring the other. a way of saying i'm here," you explained before he squeezed four times in return, your brows furrowed. "what does that mean?"

"i-it could mean i'm glad you're here," he grinned as he noticed the smile that erupted on your face from his kind words.

and you didn't let go all night.

"please come back to me, i know you can. you're so strong, please just come back to me," spencer wailed. he felt your hand squeezing his as he held it, making his encouragement the entire reason you came back to him.

-

"spence, you're making a mess," you giggled, wiping the corner of his lip free of the chocolate you two were eating, still in that heavenly place.

"i'm sorry! it just tastes really good," he smiled back as he watched you lick the chocolate from your thumb.

"mm, you're right. it does taste really good," you nodded your head. "so i'm taking all of them!" you grabbed the box full of chocolate and began running. looking back to see spencer chasing after you, you bursted into a fit of laughter.

the tall grass tickled your legs slightly, the breeze lifting your dress a tiny bit as you continued to jog ahead of him, teasing him with your laughter. he finally caught up with you, taking you down with him as you both giggled.

“you got me, dork,” you laughed, pushing his shoulder lightly. 

“of course i do! did you expect anything less?” he said arrogantly, you rolled your eyes. 

“never from you, doctor,” you teased as he pulled you in closer to him, you nuzzled your face into his neck as he admired the view around him. suddenly he stood up, the chocolate box in hand, and began running. 

“you little tease!” you shouted before getting up to chase him as he did you previously. “spencer reid, you’re so gonna get it!” you laughed out

"don’t leave me," he turned around to face you and called out, suddenly you felt a pang in your stomach where you had been stabbed.

you made eye contact with him, a look of shock and horror on your face as you tried to figure out what was wrong before you collapsed to the ground.

"sp-spencer? what's happening?" you asked as he pulled you into his lap.

"it's been two weeks y/n, i-i miss you." he began. "i know you're right here with me, but i miss your voice. and your laugh-"

"spencer i'm right here. i was just laughing with you," you tried to interrupt his monologue.

"and i miss the way your hair would crowd my face as we slept and how it would make me wake up. i miss hugging you and-"

"spencer please, i'm here," you cried, squeezing his hand as hard as you could to signify your presence.

"please come back to me, i know you can. you're so strong, please just come back to me."

-

"y/n! can you hear me?!" he exclaimed, you squeezed his hand once more, a little tighter than the last time. "oh my god! oh thank you so much, y/n," he cried as he kissed your knuckles once more, your fingers twitching in the process.

"doctor. we need the doctor!" he said as he pressed the nurse's button. "she's squeezing my hand. her fingers started twitching!" he said excitedly as the nurse entered, exiting to get the doctor.

you squeezed his hands three times, him returning with four times. you understood what he meant. his eyes were trained on your face and he saw as your lips twitched upwards in a smile.

the doctor came in to perform a few tests and forced him to release your hand. he asked you to squeeze his hand once more, you followed suit. the doctor noticed your nose twitching and neck beginning to turn.

"she's gaining control over her body again. this was predicted once we found out she could breath on her own, we just didn't think it'd happen this quickly. a recovery this soon after removing the tube is almost unprecedented," he said in awe of your strength.

"she's the strongest person i know. it's no surprise that she's recovering this fast," spencer said as he took hold of your hand again.

"indeed. she should regain full control over herself within a few hours or by overnight at this point. go easy on her, she's still recovering from being shot. i also need to observe the bullet hole on her stomach, but you could stay for that if you'd like." spencer nodded as the doctor raised the hospital gown.

there was deep bruising around the bullet hole and a scab over top. your stomach looked smaller than it had the last time he'd seen it, a result from you having to be fed through a tube. you were unbelievably pale, no surprise there either because of the lack of sunlight.

"it's healing nicely, the scab looks healthy and the bruising is getting better. she's a fighter, this one," he smiled at spencer.

"you have absolutely no idea," he said, not breaking his eyes from your beautiful face.

the doctor left swiftly after charting her vitals and giving her a shot of her vitamins. spencer sat back down in the chair and held your hand once again, waiting for you to fully wake up so you could once again be in each others' arms.

later that day, at around 11:50, your entire body began shifting. spencer sat up straight away, trying to held you in any way possible.

"that's it, y/n! come on, you can do it, y/n/n," he cheered you on, smiling so hard he felt his eyes prick with tears. you turned onto your side, towards spencer, and your eyes had began to twitch open.

"sp-spencer?" you questioned once your eyes were fully open.

"yea, yes. it's me. i'm here. i'm right here," he wrapped his arms around you, adjusting his grip after you grimaced from his tight hold. "i'm never leaving. i'm never letting you leave again," he ranted out, placing a hand on the back of your head as you wrapped the arm that didn't have an iv around his body, pushing your head to nuzzle into his neck.

"i'm so sorry. i never should've left you there," you cried into his arms.

"it's okay, y/n. it's not your fault at all," he soothed as his hand started stroking your hair gently. "i'm so glad you came back to me. thank you so much," he sighed as he gently placed a kiss on your head."

"you really think i would go that easily? i thought you knew me better than that, dumbo," you laughed out.

"i'm glad to see you still have that sense of humor in you," spencer scoffed, followed by a bright smile.

"oh that's not going anwhere, spencer. and neither am i."

@averyhotchner  @greenprisca  @muffin-cup​

[laurore-stormwitch]

So this was supposed to be a birthday gift for my friend @not-just-human, but of course I am a day late (ily). This is to remember the major week-long breakdown we had when we first read about this. I am so so happy that I met you. Enjoy this endless yearning and pining about Nikolai giving Zoya the dragon timepiece

I’d give us time if I could - ao3

word count: 2282

“Do you intend to keep prying into my work from the corner or are you planning to make yourself useful at some point?”

Zoya kept her eyes trained on the document she was scanning as she talked, having finally had enough of the intent gaze that had been studying her. Behind her back, she heard Nikolai chuckle lightly, the sound echoing in her veins.

“I’ve been here a while. I am surprised you haven’t heard me.” Of course he had, and she had let him. His silent presence was far from unpleasant, though; it brought a sense of security to the room that she had wanted to enjoy for a while. Maybe it was the silent part that was shocking enough to not startle him from his rare lack of talking. “Are you perhaps losing the usual sharpness of your senses, General?”

It was not a matter of hearing; Zoya felt him, always, everywhere. She just knew, in some deep buried part of her, when he was there; he awoke something in her, quickened her pulse, muffled her thoughts. It could have been a consequence of her newly acquired powers, or that unbreakable connection that had seemed to have been forged between them. Either way, she had deliberately chosen not to dwell on the answer. Zoya discarded her pen and shuffled the papers away, turning on her seat to face him.

“What do you need?”

Nikolai was leaning on the doorframe of her bedchamber, his figure stark against the flickering of the fire. He folded his arms, cocking his head and producing his signature mischievous grin in her direction. She really wished he would lose the habit of appearing in her room late at night; even more, she wished he could avoid doing so with his hair ruffled and the top buttons of his shirt undone.

Or maybe you just wish he would stay and let you fix those buttons, her traitorous brain provided. If only to oppose those thoughts, she scowled at him, shooting an annoyed glare at his lack of response that only made him grin wider. He pushed back from the frame, walking towards her and coming to lean on her desk beside her instead, peering at her from the upside down. Zoya tensed up, unnerved by his excessive proximity and the salty scent of his skin invading her nose. His gaze wandered around the room, lingering on the two-stars flagged ship on the wall before coming to lock with her eyes.

“I’ve come to check on my General”, he mused. “Can a king not oversee his most trusted ally’s work?”

His voice had a strained edge and he kept fidgeting with the cuffs of his jacket. He looked almost nervous. Which was not preamble to anything positive. Zoya suppressed a groan, going for another baleful glare. “Cut to the chase, Nikolai”, she clipped out.

He just looked at her, seemingly at a loss for words, which was even more worrying. His eyes darkened, the shadow of something passing over them, something treacherous, the promise of an undoing. It had peered in vulnerable flutters in these weeks, carrying sparkles of electricity between them.

They had not talked much about what had happened in the Fold, aside from the detail of their worst enemy coming back to life; Zoya carefully avoided the subject of whatever it was that they had shared, whatever it was that made her heart ache whenever he entered a room. It drove him to search for her, to ask for her company, for her presence. It lingered in the swift gazes they exchanged or the casual brush of his hands on her. Either way, it had to remain shrouded in darkness; these moments he seemed to look for made the task to toss the desire away tiresome, if not at peril to be forsaken. She heard him discreetly take in a long breath before talking, the forced cheerful tone masking a tension she could sense enveloping the room.

“I have something for you”, he finally said. “Then I’ll leave you be.”

The force of his feelings was a tidal wave of confusion that threatened to drown her; Zoya used all of her might when he was near to put a blockade against them. It was one thing to be forced to experience other people's troubled sentiments, but with Nikolai, she did not want to know. She did not want to bask in whatever inner battle was waging inside him; it would not help either of them to hold the knowledge that their hearts were being tortured by the same hopeless war.

Zoya struggled to keep her focus and control over her power; her perfectly still posture unveiled nothing of the turmoil in her chest. She arched a brow at him; losing no more time in chatters - another clear enough indicator of his nervousness - Nikolai reached inside his jacket and delicately handed her a fine case with his royal seal branded on top. Zoya turned it over, resting her folded hands with it on her lap and coming back to fix her eyes on Nikolai’s ones with a silent question.

“It’s a - “, he started, straightening himself and wrapping his hands on the edge of the desk. He cleared his throat and shuffled on his feet, his restlessness betraying more than he let on. “It’s a gift, sort of. I thought you deserved a reward. A token of appreciation.”

“For what?”, Zoya inquired, half suspicious and half startled by his gesture. Again, those shadows swept through his features and his fingers twitched.

“For fighting beside me, I guess”, he said easily, shrugging his shoulders. “And saving our pitiful lives.”

“I do it on a daily basis”, Zoya diminished, tossing her hair. “You constantly put yourself in life-threatening situations. It hardly shocks me anymore, and I certainly don’t consider it a cause for celebration.”

Nikolai smiled at that, his genuine smirk recalling the familiar ease between them and clearing the strain from the air. Of course I saved you, you idiot , Zoya thought, and she knew her blue eyes had softened at the sight of him. I could not bear to lose you. “Undoubtedly”, he conceded, humming in agreement. “Think of it as a reminder of our heroic gestures and epic adventures. I spared you the torture of hearing me proclaim a poem to our valor and chose a symbolic practical gift instead.”

Zoya rolled her eyes, blowing a disgruntled scoff. “I would have not let you come as far as a sentence. Do not ever try to pull that poetry nonsense on me.”

A laugh burst from him, and the sound made her feel so light she thought she could float.  “Just - “, he paused again, the words faltering on his tongue. Saints, what had gotten into him? He looked more like an excited schoolboy than a king. “Open it later. If it’s awful, at least I can be spared your disgusted face at my ghastly taste.”

“Your taste does lack finesse.”

“I like to pride myself with having gotten to know a fraction of your likings in these years. So perhaps I did not go completely off track with that”, he said, gesturing to the case still resting in her hands. He pushed himself up, running a hand through his hair. The king looked at her again, and she could see the words forming in his throat and dying on his lips, all the things he wished he could tell her. But that was not their truth to live. That was not their chance to gain. And whatever he would say, it had to not be what he desired. “Besides, it’s a useful gift. You always grumble about how late I am, now you could actually prove it.”

Zoya pursed her lips at the wink he gave her. “I do not grumble.”

"Occasionally. You’re extremely graceful in that too, don’t worry.”

With that, he turned to leave, as nonsensical and abrupt as he always needed to be. And Saints, she wanted to grab his arm and tell him to stay. She wanted so many futures she could not have, so many endings to this night that were forbidden.

“Nikolai”, she heard herself call to him, not sure where her own voice was coming from. Nikolai stopped dead in his tracks, his gaze darting back to Zoya still seated unmoving on her desk. His fingers were already curled around the handle; there they stood, facing each other at the brink of a duel or a surrender, at the crossroad where they kept finding and losing themselves. It would take a step, a touch, a slide of a tongue on lips. A syllable, a breath. Instead, there was silence, one that asked to be filled with mendacity, for it would be softer to tolerate than the blazing truth of an ember of hope that had already gotten extinguished. Zoya swallowed the bitter taste of pretense; she wondered how long it would keep scraping, if older pain got sweeter like a priced bourbon or turned rancid if left there to rot.

Thank you , she wished to tell him at least. A small thing it would be, yet one that would risk freeing a flood. “Close the door on your way out”, she said instead, her voice cold but lacking spite. “It’s late.”

Nikolai stood; she had chosen the path, and he knew he had to give in. It was not like they had another choice. And so he just nodded, the ghost of a smile grazing his lips because whether she spoke it aloud or not, he would always know. “Goodnight, General”, he murmured, taking his leave.

It would take her some time to get up from her seat and will herself to rest. Zoya remembered when they had found themselves in a similar position; it was three years ago, and in the box he had given her had rested the medal that had made her his General. He had been as jittery as tonight, with that grin that had never changed. Back then, the dance between them had been different, though the exchange of playful banters and silent truths had been the same.

It would then take her some other time to bring herself to open the case, and when she did, a part of her died while another came roaring to life. She could have wondered and wondered forever what it meant; if it was a promise, a farewell or a desperate plead to wait, to cling to his endless bright capability of finding a way when a way was not possible. Zoya would not try to sort out its meaning. She laid on her covers with the watch beside her, turning it in her hands as it caught the moonlight shining through the windows. When sleep came to claim her, she left it on her nightstand, focusing on its mellow ticking, a sliver of order to the chaos.

Coward , growled the beast inside her, trashing to be set free. Would you let him leave every time, until he comes back no more?

She thought back on the way she almost pleaded his name, on those seconds that stood suspended in time, when none of them had moved. She could have let go of her defenses; but then what? Why had she not said whatever was pressing in her lungs? Zoya had almost grown accustomed to those troubling doubts; she had every answer to them.

Why? Because they could not afford the tears that burned like daggers in her throat. Because they could not afford the longing that flared up the golden freckles of his irises. What would have happened if she had asked? She would have shut her lashes, and he would have reached for her, and the things that could not be would have weighed impossibly on them. The things that could not happen, in any of the lives they might be free to live.

The watch kept ticking. The dragon kept roaring, and the thorn wood kept strangling her heart, puncturing her skin.

They would keep marching. And the things that could not be would stay hidden in the silence and the rhythmic beat of a pointer slashing whatever time they had left. If she was someone else, Zoya might have hoped they could have it, not just symbolically, the gift of time. That those seconds that dripped away were not passing, that it was time they were earning. Wishful thinking and broken ideals lead nowhere, as a general knew. And she was not someone else, if not a soldier.

Nevertheless, when morning came, the timepiece rested on her nightstand, still ticking away. Zoya glanced at it as she got dressed; she brushed her hair, buttoned her kefta and put her boots on. And it kept ticking away, mercilessly calling to her.

And so she huffed in irritated surrender, and snatched it up and clasped it on the insides of her uniform. An instant relief flooded her; it matched her pulse, soothing her thoughts. She gave a tug to the kefta , smoothing its ruffled folds. She knew Nikolai would notice she was wearing it, at some point; for once, she could not bring herself to care that he was going to have this victory. Let him have it; and let her have something of him to hold.

That boy is going to be the death of me , she thought sourly, peering at herself in the mirror. A whisper arose from within, the careening thrum of her heart suggesting a different story, flashing the blank page of another chapter she could start writing, if she would only be brave enough.

What if he will be life?

[dapandapod]

We should talk about it

I decided to treat myself something so here you go! A little fic after the kiss in the alley, where they have to talk about it. 

(Turns out it is a lil steamy! Beware! 😂) Boys be insecure and boys be pining. Please enjoy!

On Ao3 here 

Geralt walks in the room, closes the door behind him, and leans back at it.

He looks at the floor for a moment, and then up at Jaskier. That can’t be good.

Jaskier sits on the floor leaning back on the bed while writing. His heartbeat picks up when his eyes meet Geralts. A nervous flutter that has always been there but gotten worse just these last few days.

“We should talk about it.” Geralt says.

Fuck.

“About what?” Jaskier feigns ignorance, buying worthless time as his mind races for ways to avoid this exact conversation, like he has for days now.

“The kiss.”

Fuck.

It’s hard to look at Geralt now, to meet his eyes, so he looks down into his writings again, finding comfort in his own words. He writes down things he wishes to hide, to rework them and pretty them up a little.

“Uhm… Why?” He asks, fiddling with the edge of the paper. Stupid question, he could kick himself.

“Because you are obviously bothered by it.”

Shit shit shit why does Geralt always pick up on the wrong things at the wrong time?

Flirt openly with the man for years, get over it, and then this, and now the fool realizes somethings afoot?

“I'm not bothered.” Jaskier lies.

Geralt hasn’t moved from where he’s leaning on the door. A good and a bad sign. Good for giving him space, bad for Jaskiers heart.

“You have been avoiding me.”

Now Jaskier has to look up at him with a look of disbelief. Half truths then.

“We are literally sharing a room.” Jaskier deadpans.

He is a good actor, but Geralt's nose is a worthy opponent.

“You know what I mean.” Geralt keeps staring at him, and yes, well.

“I’m not sure I do. What am I doing, or rather not doing, to make you think I'm avoiding you?” Jaskier asks. It is sweet that Geralt has noticed, but really, again, so slow.

“You don’t… touch me anymore.” Geralt sounds strangled. “I know we just kissed to throw them off, but it is obviously bothering you and I- hm.”’ Ah, the Hmm. “I'm sorry. You are my best friend and I don’t want to lose you.”

Jaskiers jaw drops. Of all the things he expected, it was not that.

“I- No. Geralt, we did what we had to.” Jaskier says, and he is aching inside.

It was slightly more than they actually had needed to.

Geralt had grabbed his chin, eyes burning and Jaskier was helpless. Parted his lips, moan caught in Geralt's mouth as he got pushed against the wall. Their pursuers disappeared, but they lingered. And Jaskier can’t stop thinking about it, can’t stop himself from wanting more.

“I'm still sorry. I don’t want you to be uncomfortable around me.” Geralt says. He looks so earnest, and Jaskier can’t take it anymore.

Giving his writing, his escape, a mournful look he rises up and dust off his knees.

“I’m not.” Ah fuck. Here he goes. “I’m uncomfortable around myself, to be completely honest.”

They look at each other from across the room, trying to read the other. Jaskiers heart is beating hard, what he is about to say might fuck things up irrevokeably.

“I liked it.” Jaskier confesses quietly. Complete and utter silence.

Jaskiers cheeks burn, and he fears what might happen.

“You don’t have to lie.” Geralt says, smiles kindly. “Please don’t lie to me.”

“I'm not.”

“I can smell your fear. And you like all kisses.”

Jaskier makes an exasperated motion with his arms. Damn take this man's insecurities and toss them in the deepest fucking hole.

“Mothers take me, Geralt, I’m not lying. I liked your kiss. I'm scared because I want more!”

There it is. There is his doom.

Jaskier feels out of breath, like all that running finally caught up with him. Geralt looks at him with disbelief.

“You-?”

“Yes!” Jaskier sighs, and starts pacing the room, mindful of his work on the floor. “Whatever you think, I don’t like all kisses. I like- yours, ok?”

Jaskier is working himself up into a full rant, arms flailing around. Geralt takes a step forward, catching Jaskiers hand in his.

“So why did you avoid me?” Geralt asks quietly, and Jaskier smiles sadly.

“I value our friendship higher than any kiss.”

“But you liked it?” Geralt asks again, and takes another step closer.

Jaskier can’t breathe, suddenly he feels like he is burning, like someone is squeezing around his chest.

“I did.” He says again, allowing himself to feel, to hope, to want. Geralt's hand is big around his, warm and a little sweaty. Is Geralt nervous?

“We could do it again.” Geralt says lowly, and oh. That’s a thought indeed.

This time Jaskier is the one who steps closer, all his thoughts in a hopeless jumble.

“We could.” He agrees, slipping his hand out of Geralt to put them at his sides, steadying himself. Geralt feels warm under his hands, real. There is not enough air in the room, his knees are like jelly. When Geralt puts one hand on his lower back and one under his chin and tilts Jaskiers face up.

Up, in that tantalizing angle where they just hover, inches away from each other, breaths mingling.

Jaskier can feel his heartbeat jump in his throat, feel every point of contact like a burn, his eyes fall shut and his lips open to let out a small puff of fluttery feelings.

Geralt surprises him, warm lips connecting just between his ear and jaw. A small and slightly embarrassing sound escapes him, and he leans forward in search for more contact. Geralt allows it, pressing them closer together as he presses hot, open kisses to the soft skin there.

Jaskier angles his head to allow him more room, barely believing this is happening.

“Geralt” he says. “Please.” He says.

He is not sure himself what he is asking for, but Geralt seems to feel the same. He lifts his head from Jaskiers neck, nose dragging against Jaskiers cheek until they do that terrible hover again.

If Jaskier wasn’t desperate for Geralt to take the initiative, to really prove that he wants this, he would do something about it.

But for now he will have to swallow heavily, lick those suddenly very dry lips and hope Geralt will do something soon.

Jaskier never knew what a fucking tease Geralt was, but he is starting to learn.

Finally, finally, Geralt closes the distance, kissing on Jaskiers lower lip, and Jaskier is trying to decide if this feeling is more like dying or like flying. His stomach swoops, it tingles all the way out in his fingertips, and he grabs a hold of Geralt's tunic, holding him close. He could cry, he could laugh, but what he does is moan.

Geralt leans into him even more, taking the opportunity to lick between his parted lips. All too soon Geralt pulls back, and Jaskiers lips already feel lonely.

They press their foreheads together, breathing the same air for a few heartbeats.

“Still like it?” Geralt asks, the bastard.

“No. You should try again.” Jaskier says, because he can be a bastard too.

[cinnaminsvga]

a love that endures preview | Yoongi

→ summary:

“Oh come on! Just go say hi to him already,” Seokjin huffs. He wiggles his eyebrows irritatingly, striking you with the urge to shave them off in retaliation. “I could feel your ‘God, I miss his dick’ vibes from across the room!”

“I do not emit dick thirst vibes,” you respond hotly, swatting him in the tit. You pause, considering. “Wait, but do you think he misses my p—”

“Say no more,” Seokjin interrupts, a wicked smirk gracing his lips. His gaze is fixed somewhere behind you, but you have a sinking suspicion you know why he looks like he’s won the lottery. “Speaking of the devil, look who’s coming over to say hello!”

{or alternatively: Yoongi and Y/N. Y/N and Yoongi. High school sweethearts that were never meant to be, until a high school reunion ten years later manages to reignite a flame that never quite burnt out.}

→ genre: high school reunion!au, exes to lovers, fluff, humor, minor angst → warnings: shy!yoongi and shy!oc live rent free in my brain, mutual pining is poggers, hoseok and seokjin feature in this and they aren’t evil for once in a cinnaminsvga fic, vaguely implied smut but it’s pg-13 because i’m a wimp → words: anticipated 15K → a/n: are you ever, like, irritatingly aware of how in love you are with someone? because that’s me while writing this fic. this fic was supposed to be 6-7K in length since it was a commission, but then i kept writing and well... here we are!! i hope to get this out before the end of the year but i thought it’d be nice to release a preview just so you guys know i’m still alive. or whatever. anyway!! enjoy!!

After ten years of radio silence, Min Yoongi is in your orbit once again.

In the grand scheme of things, ten years wasn’t all that long. Four years in university had passed by in a blur, and the absolute chaos that ensued right after you graduated as you scrambled to secure a job and move out of your hometown had made the days seem shorter than they actually were. You had not even noticed that time was passing until you found that cream envelope waiting for you one day after work, your alma mater’s school crest painfully recognizable even after all these years.

During all that time, the world around you shifted without you noticing, and that meant people were changing too.

Yoongi is 28 now. And so are you, after many months of denial. You have not seen each other since you were both 18—both of you far too young to know about any of the things you would experience in the next ten years. He might have grown taller a little since then, something you are sure that your brother will find amusing. His hair is not dyed like you remembered, as he has opted to keep it his natural dark black that you have not seen since you were both in middle school. It is styled differently too: combed over and jelled back, with his bangs pushed back and his forehead on full display. When he turns his head to the side, a gasp spills past your lips before you can stop it.

“Is that a fucking undercut?” you mutter in shock, your eyes straining out of their sockets as you try to drink him in. Even under the dim lighting of the ballroom, his new haircut is hard to miss. No one else seems to be undergoing the same mental collapse as you, judging by how everyone’s attention is still fixated on the person speaking at the podium. How the hell is no one else losing their fucking minds to the sight of Min Yoongi with a fucking undercut? Some questions are impossible to answer, you surmise.

When you decided to attend the reunion, you had not once thought about how Yoongi would look like. Somehow, you had developed this stagnant picture of him in your head, even after all these years. To you, he will always be the boy with the stark blonde hair, the mismatched eyelids, the pouty lips, the dumpling cheeks. He is the boy who can’t wear his own contact lenses to save his life, the boy who sometimes wears his favorite leather jacket to sleep, the boy who only drinks Americanos like it was water.

Gone are those days, you realize. That image of him has been smashed to pieces, instead replaced by this dashing (and incredibly hot) man—a stranger. A stranger with unbleached (and healthy) hair, a jawline sharp enough to cut glass. He has his glasses kept away, and there is no leather jacket in sight.

But you can see him, if you look hard enough. The same spark in his eye, the same curve of his lips. You catch him smiling for a second, and his cheeks still puff up like dough. Maybe it’s just hopeless thinking, but you see him. It’s still him. To you, he will always be your 18 year old Min Yoongi, the one who would greet you with a sweet kiss on the forehead every time you would—

Raucous applause breaks you from your train of thought, and you blink rapidly in surprise. You have to forcibly pull yourself out of your Yoongi-induced trance, clapping alongside everyone without really knowing what was going on. All of the extra noise sounds like buzzing in your ears, especially when it is drowned out by the roar of your blood rushing to your head all at once.

“Once again, I’d like to thank you all for coming tonight. We will begin the program right after dinner, so please feel free to help yourselves to the buffet! Cheers everyone!” You faintly hear your old schoolmate speak, before her voice is quickly overrun by the commotion of people walking over to the extravagant display of food. It takes a moment for the crowd of heads to disperse, so when you can finally look back to where you last saw Yoongi, he is no longer alone.

Hoseok has his arm slung around Yoongi, his infectious laughter loud enough to be heard over clinking plates and silverware. The two look as different as night and day, with Hoseok practically bouncing from excitement and Yoongi rolling his eyes from annoyance. But it is easy to see that his pout is nothing but a ruse; you can already see the beginnings of a smile tugging at his lips.

You feel your own seams breaking, unwittingly sporting a grin of your own. It is nice to know that Yoongi hasn’t been alone all this time, that he still seems close with his old best friend. You cannot count the number of friendships that you have lost over time, and you still grieve many of them during your quiet moments. Alas, it was often never even anyone’s fault, the strains of adulthood often being the biggest dealbreakers in your relationships.

“Enjoying yourself? I didn’t think we’d share the same voyeuristic tendencies,” says a voice, creeping up behind you. Now, normal people would not usually expect other sane people to invade your personal space and breathe directly into your ear, but that’s just your humble opinion. What you do know is that one certain individual enjoys breaking the mold when it comes to societal norms, and it is none other than…

“Jesus fucking Christ!” You shriek, nearly suckerpunching the offending degenerate in the face. You barely hold back your fist from connecting with his face, but your resulting irritation remains. Whether that irritation is because you regret actually holding back or not will unfortunately also have to remain unanswered. “Oh God, it’s you.”

“Oh, no need for that. Most people usually call me Seokjin,” he snickers, thoroughly enjoying your flushed face. Kim Seokjin pats you on the shoulder, his trademark “pretty boy” smile still as radiant as you remembered. It does nothing to quell your urge to raise your fists again, however. “Hello, Y/N. Fancy seeing you here!”

“The feeling is not mutual,” you snort. Much like how Yoongi was with Hoseok, your derision is nothing but a rouse. As much as you want to kick Seokjin in the nuts, you also cannot ignore how much you want to hug him the slimy bastard—but you definitely will not be the first one to admit it. So like the tsundere that you are, you decide to insult him instead. “Don’t you have other things to do? Or rather, people to do?”

“My heart! You wound me,” he gasps, grasping his chest as though he’d been shot. “How could you say that to your best friend in the entire world? Don’t you know how much I missed you?”

“Easy. I do it because the only other alternative would lead me straight to prison,” you shrug, but the grin is forming fast on your face. This time, you don’t jolt away when he closes in for a hug. “And I guess I miss you too,” you say, your words slightly muffled into his chest. Like always, he sees through your prickly act because as much as you like to pretend, Kim Seokjin is kind of amazing—loose bolts and all.

“It’s nice to know that your tongue hasn’t lost its edge, though I suppose I wouldn’t be intimately knowledgeable in that area. After all, I still am very much a raging homosexual and pussy isn’t really my forte,” Seokjin guffaws, his volume causing a few nearby guests to raise their heads up in alarm. You bow at them, sheepishly apologizing on his behalf before grabbing him by the collar.

[missdawnandherdusk]

Ravenclaw Extensive Dating a Malfoy Headcanons:

Okay, so other than Ravenclaw and Slytherin I have two series with Draco and the other houses but they don’t always get the little moments so here I am adding them in as well as beginning the remaining houses. (Of course you all know how I feel about sorting but for the sake of Draco Malfoy being happy I’ll set that aside). Yes this has been done before but come on, you’re gonna read it anyway. I’ll do one for each house promise.

So being ravenclaw comes with the name calling “nerd” “four eyes” “freak” “weirdo” ya know real high brow stuff

Mostly it comes from Draco and his Slytherin classmates they feel threatened, you’re smart, go figure

It’s not that you’re “smart” it’s that you want to learn especially if you’re Muggle born because WHAT DO YOU MEAN MAGIC EXISTS

So you get good. Very good. At everything. Which infuriates Draco because you surpass him in Potions

He fails a Transfiguration quiz and McGonagall asks you to help him because you’re probably the only one who won’t punch him a-la-muggle

You protest but it’s no use, and McGonagall said she’ll give you extra credit and house points so, ya know what bring it

He hates it of course, sulking the entire time, muttering about “if my father knew about this” which just makes you smile because good lord he’s ridiculous

Your tutoring sessions give you time with Draco alone and though the first few times you’re terrified and stumble over your words, you get more comfortable with him and he’s less snappy at you

He has an ambition for knowledge, you have the means to give it to him

Soon he’ll start sitting next to you in class because you’re notes make more sense to him than the professor’s do

You come to realize that “oh my stars Draco might be dyslexic like you” you don’t mention it to him because you know he’d just shut down and get aggressive but it explains why he likes your notes so much: he can actually read them

People still make fun of your for your brains and knowledge, but it starts to fade over time and unbeknownst to you, Draco began to threaten anyone who bullied you; which accidentally put you on edge because you’re waiting for the other shoe to drop

You’re reading up on the American Revolution and Wizards involvement in the war when Draco comes to you, grinning

You look up at him, nervous and expecting

He hands you his latest Charms exam

He got full marks

You’re so excited you forget yourself and hug him which leads to blushing and awkward “good job” and “thanks”

One day Harry is being Harry with Draco and “she’s only helping you because she’s getting extra credit and house points” Draco knew that but hearing it from Harry is different

You go straight to McGonagall and tell her you don’t want the credit or points anymore you don’t tell draco this, because well... you don’t know

Your study session become less laughter filled and fun... Draco seems almost too distracted to focus on anything he’s moping

You reach over one time in class and draw a smiley face on his notes while he’s sulking. When he glares at you, you offer a smile and maybe he smiles back

“Are you okay?” You write under the smiley face. “Fine.” He scrawls. “I don’t believe you”

He stares at you like you have two heads. No ones ever pressed past his “I’m fine” charade before

That night you’re studying and he comes to you and starts to talk. It starts with school but it goes on to how his family is doing and the looming war and then he finally admits that he’s not as put together as he looks and that the only friend he has is being “paid” to be with him

“Draco, I stopped getting extra credit months ago,” You finally explain what you did after what Harry said that one day and he’s just dumbfounded so maybe his only friend wasn’t being paid to be with him

You introduce him to Muggle Coffee Monsters for late night studying and occasional all nighters theyre “really really really really good” he’s practically bouncing in his seat. You wonder if he’s ever had caffeine before...

You fail a potions test. Badly. Not that you meant to but you don’t know what happened. You try everything to hold back tears because you’ve never failed before. Draco gets perfect marks and you’re just dying inside and so ashamed because you’re supposed to be smart

Draco finds out even though you try to keep it from him and he chases after you in the hall not before pleading with Snape to have you redo the exam. Snape allows it

“Just leave me alone Draco,” you snap. “Just wait!” He calls. “Leave me alone!” You pull out your wand against him and he just freezes. You realize what you’ve done and run, tears streaming down your face

You don’t talk to him in class because you’re just so confused and ashamed and sorry. He slides a note over. “You’re more than a grade,” is written in his careful script. There’s a smiley face too.

You finally peek over at him and he offers you a smile now you’re really confused

You keep that note and whenever you’re stressed or get a grade less than you wanted you read it until the paper is faded and worn from its wear.

You retake the exam you take after Draco spends the week beforehand making sure you know exactly what you’re doing

“You can do this,” He insists. “No I can’t,” you groan, hopeless. “You’re being ridiculous, come on wise girl, if I can do it so can you.” The nickname started as a taunt but now it was something that only Draco was allowed to call you

You get full marks on your retake and run to find Draco and hug him in the middle of the Great Hall with everyone watching and maybe you kiss him because he believed in you when he leads to awkward blushing and stammering apologies before he pulls you back and really kisses you

There’s a chorus of “finally”s from the surrounding students and a few cheers the whole school shipped you two and it was just frustrated to watch you two pine for another

Draco leads you to a quiet corner of the castle, your exam still in your hand as he really asks you if you want this—to be with him. He knows he’s not the best person and goes on listing why he’s a bad person and yadda yadda yadda

You tell him if you’re more than a grade he’s more than a Slytherin

You start dating

Cue blushing and nervous Draco because “I’ve never had a girlfriend what am I supposed to do? Flowers? Chocolate? Dates? Handholding?” The poor boy is a mess

“Draco, sweetheart. Calm down you’re doing fine,” you laugh one afternoon as he fumbles over asking you to hogsmeade with him. “It’s just me,” he just feels so pressured to be perfect you constantly remind him that he doesn’t have to be, not for you

You still study together but sometimes you just end up cuddling. Except on the nights you have an exam the next day or an essay due “Draco I will hex you to next week if you don’t focus”

You both aren’t sure how to be affectionate towards another. Sure you’ve read books and he’s seen other do it but you two are so bad at just talking without stammering or blushing

So you start writing down how you feel and what you want to do and what you’re comfortable with, and he’ll respond and you two actually get somewhere because you’re communicating it’s not “the norm” but at least you’re communicating

Reading books under trees; late nights in the library; sitting together in class; holding hands in the halls; “wise girl” and “pretty boy”

Your friends are happy to see that your happy and can appreciate Dracos ambition for knowledge and that you both are a bit competitive when it comes to grades

His friends are a bit cold and distant and snappy sometimes, but you don’t mind much, you know it’s not a commonality for Slytherin to date outside of House

Draco spoils you at every turn. “You looked at this book in the shop so I got it signed by the author for you” / “you said you wanted this quill once... so here” / “I will never understand Muggle stores but I picked up more Oreos and Monsters” / “I saw this necklace and it reminded me of you so I bought it” / “you lost your other scarf so I got you this new one. It’s unicorn silk” / “here, this bag is enchanted so you can carry all of the books you want and not have to carry the weight”

You love him a little more with each thing he gets you because they’re the most bizarre things that you didn’t know you wanted but somehow he did. He’s like a bird “I saw this shiny rock and wanted you to have it”

Your parents adore him. They were a bit wary about you dating a Malfoy/Slytherin but he spends one afternoon and dinner with your family and they’re completely smitten and tell him to come back any time especially when they hear about getting you that retake exam

His parents are a bit more reserved towards you. Until Narcissa sees Draco smiling at you as you talk about the history of something he really couldn’t care less about but you’re so excited he can’t help but stare and she sees your wisdom and ambition and wonders if the Sorting Hat made the right call about you

Lucius doesn’t talk down to you not that he talked much at all to you but when you ask him more about his job at the ministry/his peacock/family history/possible Veela descent he’s absolutely taken with you because you remind him of a young Narcissa especially when you snip right back at Draco. Lucius chokes on his drink when he hears you call Draco “pretty boy” and Narcissa grins at him because that’s her nickname for him

When Draco takes the Dark Mark you can bet your Galleons your spending every night looking into Dark Magic and how it works to truly understand what’s happening. You feel less panicked when you know what’s going on good or bad and you help Draco understand too

Which means you’re talking to Snape a bit more. Not to use the magic, but you want to know. You don’t want Draco to feel like he’s alone in all of it. You find spells that make the Mark burn less and affect his thoughts/mood less

When Draco starts to slip behind on grades again during Sixth Year, you go back to tutoring him, with gentle encouraging words and soft promises that he can do it

After the war you encourage him to come back to school and finish and though he’s terrified to face anyone his ambition for knowledge is still there and you’ve become a lot more terrifying since learning dark magic that people back off when they see you

.

.

Tags: @coffee-addicti @msmcsmutt @ravn-87 @artemismohr18 @whygz @crazywritingbug @fuzzy-panda@bitemebro522 @zombiesnips-blog @jillanaholland @shookyungsoo @savingdraco @welcometomyworldwithoutrules @akari180 @slytherin-emerald @chaotic-good-gemini @memalfoy-spidey@theres-a-dog-outside-omg @queenfeatherwings @fanficflaneuse @go-whovian-universe @spicyshenanigans @darling-im-not-okay-i-promise@dietkiwi@katsukink @takemetothekingdom @strangerr-things@tmnt-queen @mccloudchloe @hxneybgb @justsomerandomgur @belcvayelena @moviesbooksandfandoms @howdycharlie@xtrashmouthxtozierx @cocochanelthepupper@ninacotte@mccloudchloe @braelynn-j @jiggllyy @honeymarvel@go-whovian-universe @darcypottah @atomicpunkrock@thiccheerioss @lottie289 @boredashaeck @beautiful-pegasus @tceedlmao @deadlynyghtshayde @iconjuresnapeingrandmaclothes @anonymous034 @bi-andready-tocry @lunna-does-real-doodle @dragonsandbread @atomicwonderlandmentality @okaydraco @the–queen-of-hell @langdonzvoid @cmxreader @alienmotel @oh-itsnothing @tulippings @thestressedprincess @sunflowerxsadnessw @caps-wilsonn @fattycooter @angelotakunerd08 @thisisahugemistake @fanficsigottaread​ @gweaslvy​ @okaydraco​ @strawberriesonsummer​ @ughjjloveme​ @honeymarvel​  @gaysludge​ @cleopatera​

[terrm9]

All The World Seems At Ease Tonight

a.k.a. Christmas Fic

Three years of Christmas Eve for Ethan and Chiara.

Warnings: some kissing, some cliché like mistletoes, mutual pining in the first part, other than that just fluff fluff fluff

Words count: 4 300

Author’s note: Here we are, in times when Valentine’s Day fics are being posted, I finished my Christmas Fic. Yay! It was supposed to be made of three equally long parts but I went crazy with the first one (it was my first time writing about Book One and I just truly enjoyed it). However, I hope you enjoy <3

Intern Year

It took longer for Ethan to finally walk the deserted corridor than he expected, but he decided to work on Christmas Eve for a reason – as he did every year – and checking on patients had to be the main priority. Of course it had to.

Yet, his steps carried him more swiftly than usually and he could feel his forehead ache from the constant concerned furrow of his brows. Naveen was feeling especially unwell these past two days and Ethan hated the idea of his older friend left alone and in pain on the day he loved that much.

Not that Ethan understood. Christmas, as every other holidays made no sense to him and if it was up to him, the whole nonsense would be erased and never celebrated again. But Naveen loved the festivities and the ‚merry spirit‘ of them, and so Ethan tried his hardest to keep him company for as long as he could.

Crossing the corridor enough to see the door of Naveen’s room, Ethan’s heart jumped in his chest as he noticed that they were slightly ajar.

Damn the man if he tried to take a walk.

Opening the door to the room fully, a soft breath of relief left Ethan at the sight of Naveen peacefully laying in his bed, his eyes closed but a gentle smile formed on his lips.

And he was not alone.

Ethan’s breath hitched in his throat again.

He couldn’t move, he couldn’t form a coherent sentence, he just kept standing in the doorway, devoured by the scene in front of him.

Chiara was sitting at one of the chairs next to Naveen’s bed, her back turned to the door and a small book in her hand.

And she was reading aloud.

„In fact I have no other choice

than, being alive, to live.

And every day,

into its every moment,

I lead this highly destructible body.

And if hope morse-signals: life

while hopelessness outruns possible death,

my decision is made -

I side with hope.

You can find me anytime

near its hidden paths.

Talking or silent.

I guard the human dream.

And I hold out

where I stand.“

Ethan’s throat tightened and he thanked the universe for the fact that the two doctors – the two doctors that meant so much to him – haven’t yet noticed his presence.

He was not sure what exactly made him feel the emotions currently filling his mind, and he could easily blame it on the merry spirit of Christmas, had he believed in it.

Maybe it was the melody of Chiara’s voice as she read the poem, so soft and gentle and beautiful. Or maybe it was a sight of Naveen, sick and weak and dying and yet looking so peaceful.

Perhaps it was the combination of both, the woman that captured his mind more often than he was willing to admit and the man that was like a father to him, spending time together in a perfect harmony, the air around them so serene it made Ethan wonder if his interruption would even be a welcome one.

„This one was my favorite,“ Naveen spoke into the silence, although he didn’t open his eyes.

„You said that after I finished the one before,“ Chiara chuckled softly, closing the book in her hands.

It was a miracle – not that Ethan believed in those – that Naveen managed to laugh at Chiara’s reponse without coughing. They looked almost... normal. As if his life was not ending anytime soon.

„It truly is a pity that there are only so few of his poems translated to English.“

„When you get through this,“ Chiara replied and Ethan hated that he could hear the sad smile in her words, despite not seeing her face at all. He had no right to know her that well. „You should learn the language and translate all of his poems.“

Naveen only hummed in a response, letting them both believe for a blissful moment that he would get through it.

It was the time for Ethan to make them aware of his presence. He coughed politely and stepped inside, doing his best to maintain a stoic mask on his face.

„Ethan!“ Naveen smiled brightly, just as brightly as Chiara did when she noticed Ethan, and for a moment it was easy to forget who they were, where they were.

„What are you doing here, Dr. Ray?“ Ethan asked instead of greeting and almost immediately winced at the choice of his words, knowing that he sounded rather rude.

When truly, he was simply surprised. He was not aware of Chiara working today.

„I am sorry, Dr. Ramsey,“ her bright smile turned into somehow sheepish one and she put the book on her chest, as if it could serve as a shield protecting her from Ethan’s inevitable anger. „All my patients are stable so I stopped by to keep Dr. Banerji company, at least for a while.“

„And what a pleasing company it was!“ Naveen exclaimed, shooting Ethan a reprimanding look, obviously not pleased by his behavior. „Are you finished with your tradition?“

Ethan tensed visibly and only gave away a stiff nod, the last thing he wished to share the tradition with the younger doctor.

„The... tradition?“ Chiara dared to ask despite his less than kind reaction. „I didn’t take you as someone with Christmas traditions.“

„I am not,“ Ethan spoke flatly, sitting on the chair on the other side of Naveen’s bed.

There were seconds of rather awkward silence between them before Chiara stated that she would leave them alone, wished Naveen Merry Christmas while hugging him and left the room.

It was as if warmth of the air went with her.

It didn’t take long for Naveen to chew Ethan out for how he behaved to Chiara – and Ethan noticed the affection, the gentleness lacing Chiara’s name as Naveen said it. He was right, of course. Ethan was hard for no reason and he wasn’t proud of himself, but what was he supposed to do? Ever since getting back from Miami, it was becoming more and more difficult to control his actions with her.

But Naveen was right. He had no right and he should make it all better.

And so after Naveen made it clear he would like to sleep, Ethan checked the schedule to make sure none of Chiara’s friends were working and then with a bated breath clicked on Chiara’s contact.

E: Where are you?

The reply came almost immediately, a sign that there was not emergency – which Ethan wasn’t sure he considered a good sign or not.

C: The on-call room. Why?

It didn’t really make sense to Chiara, why was Ethan texting her, him of all people. If there was an emergency, he could have easily paged her.

The answer to her question came quickly.

E: I am about to grab some take-out. I was wondering if you would care to join me in my office to share a meal.

Saying that Chiara gasped would be an understatement. She had to blink twice to make sure she was not missing a message stating that he sent it to the wrong number. But no.

C: Are you inviting me over for a Christmas dinner?

E: Do not be ridiculous. Do you like Italian kitchen?

C: Sure.

E: 9 PM, my office, then.

And then nothing. Chiara was almost absolutely sure that she was dreaming, because there was no way the same Dr. Ramsey that has been avoiding her ever since the conference would be inviting her for a – definitely Christmas – dinner.

But free food is free food and she would be lying if she said she wouldn’t welcome a distraction. No matter how hard she tried to stay positive, she missed her family terribly today.

And Ethan was a rather pleasant distraction after all.

 At 10 PM, with her risotto eaten, a paper cup filled with an apple juice – the best option for a toast for them -  she managed to get in the cafateria in her hand, Chiara found herself sitting comfortably at the leather couch in Ethan’s office, one of her leg crossed over the another, her white coat shrugged off and hanging over the arm of the couch.

It surprised her to see Ethan next to her, looking almost equally relaxed. One of his arms was draped over the back of the couch and Chiara could feel the warmth radiating from the skin of his hand, on her neck.

"So... is there a point in asking you about the tradition Dr. Banerji mentioned?" Chiara asked after finishing her drink, mischievous sparks dancing in her irises.

"No," Ethan replied immediately, although his voice wasn't nearly as stern as he wanted it to be. The right corner of his mouth twitched slightly, Chiara noticed, as if her question amused him.

Ethan wanted to share it with her, he almost let it slip, but he made a promise in Miami - to her or rather to himself, he didn't know - and damn him if he didn't keep that promise.

Professionals.

That's all they should, all they could, be.

And as if to prove himself wrong in the very next moment, he spoke again, asking a question that professionals shouldn’t want to ask.

"Are you going to share your reason for not visiting your family over Christmas?"

Chiara shrugged, her smile not quite faltering but losing some of its brightness.

He didn’t mean to pry, but he was curious. Chiara mentioned home and family fairly often and back in Miami, he could hear her on the phone with her mother – and it was exactly the kind of call a child and a parent that love each other share.

He found it only logical that Chiara would want to spend Christmas in San Francisco.

“I am not sure I would get that many free days as an intern.”

“All your friends have gotten three free days, so would you. It is not much, but it enough to take a quick trip to San Francisco.”

She laughed softly, her gaze strained with the thought or memories, Ethan didn’t know.

“We don’t celebrate Christmas at home since…” she stopped herself and cleared her throat and it didn’t take a diagnostician to see that she was looking for a way to tell Ethan enough without telling him the whole truth.

“It has been six years since we celebrated in San Francisco. For these last years, me, my mom and my sister travel abroad at the time of Christmas. This year, they are in Singapore,” she chuckled and turned to Ethan, a smile on her face wide, however her gaze still lost in the haze. “I am sure three days wouldn’t be enough for a quick trip to Singapore.”

Ethan laughed shortly at that and shook his head, no that would not, and he fought the urge to ask more, to get to know her more, to tell her about his mother, because professionals.

That is why Chiara hasn’t asked him back, why are you working today?, because he made it clear he wanted to keep things professional and she was not brave enough to push him again.

“I would want to stay in Boston anyway,” she added after a while, looking away again and she was biting her lips nervously.

Ethan didn’t want her to be nervous around him but damn, her teeth sinking into her lower lip and her cheeks flushed slightly and it took the last remnants of his strength to repeat the word in his head, professional, professional, professional.

“Why?” he asked.

“Well I knew that Dr. Banerji would be here and I thought it would be nice to spend some time with him. And I didn’t know if you would be here so,…”

She trailed off, not knowing what else to say and when she turned to Ethan, it surprised her to see how close he has gotten, his whole upper body slouching to her and his face so close she could feel his breath on her face.

And it would be easy to believe that he was only listening intently, that was the reason of his sudden proximity, it would be right to believe so, but Chiara was anything but stupid.

“Ethan,” she exhaled quietly and noticed how his pupils dilated at the sound of his name rolling off her lips.

She raised her hand and rested it on his cheek slowly, waiting for his reaction.

And in that moment, there were many words swirling through Ethan’s mind but professionals was not one of them.

He leaned closer, so close his lips brushed Chiara’s ever so softly and-

-and her pager went off.

Chiara stood up abruptly and took the pager out of her pocket.

“I guess that’s my call,” she smiled and it didn’t go unnoticed by Ethan that she sounded out of breath, that his effect on her was as strong as hers on him and he cursed himself for letting the damn word slip out of his mind.

He also cursed himself for not kissing her earlier, so that he could feel her lips fully before the pager went off.

“Merry Christmas, Ethan,” Chiara smiled at him for the last time and left the office before he could respond.

And Ethan thought that if he could celebrate the Christmas like this, with her, every years, maybe the holiday wouldn’t need to be erased.

 Second Year

“So you already finished this tradition of yours today?” Chiara asked with that sweet, innocent smile on her lips as she stood between Ethan’s legs as he kept sitting on his chair, gently removing his glasses.

Only then she kissed the bridge of his nose softly, caressing his cheek with such care it almost didn’t make sense to Ethan.

“Yes,” he smiled back at her, enjoying their position and the fact that for once, Chiara was above his eye level and he had to raise his head to meet her gaze.

“And you are not going to tell me what it is?”

“No,” now it was Ethan’s turn to smile all-too-innocently and he knew Chiara was burning with curiosity.

He wouldn’t mind telling her now, but he would lie if he said that he was not enjoying seeing his Chiara, usually so composed and calm, freaking out about his secret Christmas tradition.

She leaned down to capture his lips and Ethan wondered if that was a part of her plan because if she’d continue to roll her tongue like that, he would tell her everything she would wish to hear.

And she knew that.

Ethan grabbed the back of her thighs, making her stumble slightly and sit in his lap and soon their kiss turned into proper make out session, his hands roaming her bare torso hungrily while her hands tugged on his hair, leaving them in the disheveled state she adored so much.

Before their Christmas evening could turn into the gala’s sequel – the memory still fresh in Ethan’s mind – Chiara pulled out with a reluctant sigh.

“My mom and Alicia told me to say Merry Christmas from them to you.”

Ethan nodded in thanks, however he couldn’t contain a sigh leaving him. He knew Chiara missed her family.

“Do you regret staying here instead of going with them?”

“Are you crazy?” Chiara laughed and unlike last year, Ethan remembered, her laugh was sincere and full of joy. “I am cold enough here in Boston. I wouldn’t wish to freeze to death in freakin’ Iceland.”

Not able to stop himself from rolling his eyes, Ethan let out a soft laugh too, however he had to agree with Chiara – the woman was cold all the time. He couldn’t imagine her hitchhiking through Iceland – a trip that evolved from what Chiara called ‘her mom’s middle age crisis’ idea’.

“And again, with the time off I took after the senator’s attack and Edenbrook’s closing, I wouldn’t be able to leave for three weeks.”

“You know I would sign off your vacation, three weeks or not,” Ethan mumbled into her neck.

Chiara smacked his arm lightly, an amused grin on her lips.

“And that, Dr. Ramsey, is not at all professional.”

Ethan wanted to argue that he could think of many not at all professional activities that happened in this very office, but sometimes not reminding himself of his terrible failure at staying colleagues was for the best.

Not that this relationship was by any means a failure. Letting himself fail his principles for once in his life turned out to be the best decision he has ever made.

“I knew you would be working,” Chiara added much more seriously and she was, of course, right. There were reasons Ethan was dedicated to work every Christmas Eve, reasons he never talked about but were enough for him to not to break the habit.

“And you would rather spend your Christmas at work with me, than in Europe with your family?”

“Yes,” Chiara stated simply, not a single hint of doubt in her voice. None.

Who knows how much longer we are going to work in this hospital together, she thought but didn’t say it aloud, not wanting to ruin the bright mood.

Checking his watch, Ethan gestured at Chiara to stand up and followed her in her tracks, trying his best to tame the mess his hair has become.

“I am going to pick up the food. Are you going to join me?”

“Nope, I still need to check on some patients. I will accompany you to the nurses’ station.”

They left the office together and Ethan still couldn’t quite comprehend this new reality for them, the life where they walked the corridor freely next to each other, Ethan’s hand put on Chiara’s lower back gently, and he didn’t need to worry about anyone seeing them.

“Dr. Ray, Dr. Ramsey,” Marlene smiled at them from the desk and noticing Ethan’s relaxed shoulders, she dared to go on. “Didn’t you want to spend your Christmas outside of the work?”

Chiara shrugged and smiled widely, not giving Ethan a chance to ruin Marlene’s mood by his sour response – it didn’t matter how relaxed he was, he couldn’t stand people asking him personal questions.

“We like to work. Someone has to do it even today, right?” she smiled at the nurse.

“Maybe you could engage at least in some form of Christmas cheer, hm?” Marlene gestured at the green adornment above their heads and Chiara couldn’t contain her smirk when she noticed what it was.

Mistletoe.

“Absolutely not,” Ethan stated, his arms crossed at his chest. “We are at work. I will not fuel rumors by indulging in such public display of physical affection.”

Chiara raised an eyebrow at him and Ethan was not sure if she was trying to remind him that the office’s walls were still made out of glass and therefore their earlier escapades could be very well considered a public display of physical affection, had anyone come by, or-

“Ah,” Marlene laughed loudly. “You didn’t mind to fuel those rumors at the gala not even three weeks ago, Dr. Ramsey.”

Ethan’s cheeks flushed brightly but it was clear at the moment that those two women would not let him leave that easily.

Sighing reluctantly, he planted a quick – yet gentle – kiss at Chiara’s cheek and muttering ‘food’ left the corridor.

“What are you doing to the poor man, Dr. Ray,” Marlene whispered as she watched his retreating form, winking at the young redhead she came to like very much.

 Third Year

It seemed like it would become their very own tradition, to share their Christmas dinner behind the walls of Ethan’s office.

Chiara was extremely tempted to join her mother and Alicia this year – after all, it is at least warm on Mauritius and Chiara deperately wished to feel warm for a while. But with Leland not that approving of her relationship with Ethan – with her boss, as he reminded them – she wouldn’t dare to ask him for two weeks of vacation.

And maybe she was secretly thankful that he made that decision for her – she missed her family, but she couldn’t imagine sending Ethan beach pictures while he would be working. And she knew he would be working.

It took her by surprise, by the most beautiful surprise, when Ethan asked her if she wouldn’t want to spend New Year’s Eve in San Francisco – there was no doubt they would get three or four days off for that – and that he would accompany her, if she would like that.

Only then she found out he exchanged messages with her mother rather regularly and they came up with the idea together, actually.

And so there she was – walking down the long corridor of renewed Bloom Edenbrook’s hospital, a patient chart in one of her hands and a Christmas card she got from one of the patient in the other. Chiara only needed to drop the charts off at the nurses’s station and she was free to enjoy her take-out with Ethan for as long as their pagers would remain silent.

After checking everything twice and making sure she wasn’t needed anywhere, she stepped into the office, smiling at the sight of a single candle glowing in the middle of Ethan’s desk – maybe the idea of this truly being a Christmas dinner was finally getting on him.

„Before we start,“ Chiara spoke first, taking a seat next to Ethan on a couch. „I saw you leaving a paediatrics wing today and I know you have no patient there. Is that your tradition?“

She normally wouldn’t really care about Ethan being somwhere weird, but this was their third Christmas together and there were many, many attempts on Chiara’s side to get the information out of Ethan through the years, only for him to resist.

And it was beginning to be ridiculous.

„Yes,“ Ethan rolled his eyes but he didn’t really seem anyhow bothered. He hugged Chiara’s waist and put a lingering kiss on her temple, her smell intoxicating him even after years of knowing it. Knowing Chiara.

„So what exactly is it what you do there?“

„I read books to the kids that have to stay here and are alone. I am not dressed as Santa,“ he added quickly, noticing Chiara’s curious eyes. „I just come there, bring some books with me, read them for as long as I can. It’s not much, but...“

Chiara turned to him fully now and whispered: „It is more than much,“ before kissing him softly, pouring all the love she felt into the simple act of their lips meeting eagerly.

And she still wondered, how was it that it was her, that she was the privileged one to see this side of Ethan Ramsey, the side that reads book to sick kids and hugs overwhelmed mothers and buys a candle because he knows his girlfriend loves candles on the Christmas table.

„Didn’t you want to spend this Christmas with Alan?“ Chiara asked between the kisses, genuinely curious – the relationship between two Ramsey men was finally good, after all.

„He knows I will come tomorrow. I wanted to work today.“

„You... wanted to work?“ Chiara leaned back and shot him a confused stare.

She knew that it was Ethan’s habit to work on Christmas Eve, but it never occured to her that it was something he truly wanted.

Ethan leaned into the back of the couch, exhaling slowly before responding.

„I never had anyone waiting for me at home on Christmas. And I made sure, every year, that I would be working on Christmas Eve, because me working meant someone else being able to go home. When I work, it might guarantee another doctor to spend his evening with his family, his kids.“

There was a mix of emotions in Ethan’s eyes, even if his voice was steady – a gentlesness mixed with pain and perhaps even anger.

„I believe that parents should be home for Christmas. I am aware of our job being demanding, but no child should feel left behind because their parents have important job. If there is only one of the fellow doctors that is able to play board games with his kids now because I am here – we are here – working, then yes, I want to work.“

He propped his head on the back and closed his eyes for a while and it stunned Chiara how peaceful he looked, how content. She squeezed his hand, however before she could say anything, Ethan spoke again.

„Until that is something we have, I am more than happy to spend my Christmas Eve’s here with a take-out and you.“

It seemed like he didn’t even realize what he just said, his position, his expression not changed.

But Chiara noticed.

Until that is something we have.

They never really talked about family. Future. They loved each other, there were no doubts about that, and they enjoyed planning the upcoming months of their lives. Chiara knew she wanted to spend her life with Ethan. And deep down she knew that he felt the same – that they didn’t go through that much for him to just let her go.

But the statement left her speechless nonetheless.

It wasn’t even that much about him saying that there might be an option for a family in his future – Ethan changed a lot after all.

It was the way he said, with such easiness, such certainity, without a single doubt, until that is somethig we have.

We. Us.

It was his third Christmas with Chiara and Ethan knew that if it hadn’t been for her, he would still wish to erase Christmas from the existence of an universe.

[bardofthursdays]

Your Love is Sunlight...

Relationships: Geralt/Jaskier 

Rating: Gen 

Content Warnings: None 

Summary: Geralt finally visits Oxenfurt and sees Jaskier interacting with people like him in an environment that suits him and... feelings present themselves.

Read on Ao3 here

Jaskier sighed, crossing his arms and raising an eyebrow at his companion. Geralt was being unusually huffy and unusual huffy-ness from the Witcher usually indicated one of three things. Lack of food, lack of sex, or a struggle to suppress unwanted emotions.

It couldn't be hunger, Jaskier reasoned. They had been in Oxenfurt for almost a week now, feasting so much every night that even a Witcher’s hunger would be easily satisfied. And at said feasts, more than one particularly brave student had propositioned the Witcher, most likely emboldened by the many tales Jaskier often spun of the man whilst wintering there.

You see, Oxenfurt was a safe haven of sorts, a place where Bards could sing their more heartfelt ballads. Songs the general public would find too maudlin or sappy. So, of course, every winter Jaskier would sing of his hopeless pining and endless longing, with thinly veiled metaphors and pronoun changes that fooled absolutely no one.

Anyway, surprisingly enough, the Witcher had turned every one of those brave students down. So it was likely not the second option... besides, Jaskier could practically hear him thinking over there with his creased brow and the fact that he’d been fucking pacing around the Bard's chambers for the last half hour.

Option three then. Lovely.

"Alright, spit it out then Witcher, what's got your emotional knickers in a twist?"

He winced at his own word choice before pulling his travelling companion over to the hutch in the corner. They sat next to each other in silence for a beat.

Jaskier sighed loudly.

"We both know I'll get it out of you eventually, so we might as well skip the…" He waved his hand around, racking his brains for the right word. "Haggling."

Geralt let out a sigh of his own, opening and closing his mouth a few times before sighing yet again. Frowning slightly.

Jaskier ached to reach out and smooth the creases from his face, take all of his cares away and share the load for a while. He pushed the desire down, rubbing his fingers together instead. An old nervous habit.

The Witcher ran a hand over his face before finally speaking. When he spoke, he spoke in groups, as he often did when searching for the right words.

"Seeing... seeing you here, in your home... with your people... this, this is where you belong, Jaskier. This place is filled with everything you love. Music, color, endless food and ale. People who not only listen to you, but hang off your every word..."

The words Geralt couldn't say weighed on him heavily, clawing at his throat, filling his every last thought.

It's by the coast. You love the coast. I'm sorry I never took you there. I wanted to. Even though I hate the coast. It's beautiful here, you're beautiful here. It feels like you. Smells like you. Flowers, and those stupid perfumes you like. You... You. You. You-

"You belong here..." He finished lamely.

A series of emotions crossed the Bards face, eventually landing on something forlorn.

"Are you... are you trying to say I don't belong by your side?"

He smirked, putting on an offended front. But Geralt saw right through it. His voice was too quiet and uncharacteristically shaky...

The Witcher's eyes widened, and he quickly realized that despite his best efforts, he had once again managed to fuck up his wording.

"No! No, Jaskier I-" He grunted, scowling as the words refused to come out. "This. This is what you... what you deserve. You deserve a warm bed every night... friends... friends who listen... who understand you-" He paused, looking down at his clenched fists and taking a deep breath. "Friends who aren't afraid to admit that they care for you..."

He heard the Bard's breath hitch, and somehow managed to power on despite his sudden urge to pull the other man into his arms. To run his hands through his chestnut brown hair and tell him just how important, just how loved he truly is. But he wasn't even sure he was ready for that conversation. No matter how overdue it was.

"You don't deserve sleepless nights on the dirt. Fearing for your life not only on the road, but in towns... travelling with a mutant that often gets you kicked out of the few taverns you actually get to stay in."

Jaskier nudged him slightly with his shoulder at the word mutant, giving him a look he knew very well. It was his 'stop degrading yourself, Geralt, it doesn't suit you in the slightest and you know it isn't true' look. Geralt huffed, rolling his eyes and continuing.

"You could be here, you could teach, share your music. Be bright. I mean- I just don't understand why you follow me. Me, of all people."

"Oh, Geralt..." The Bard's voice was shaky, as was the hand he laid hesitantly upon the Witcher's too slow heart. Geralt suppressed a smile at the familiar gesture. It had started when one of his hunts had gone wrong.

He'd stumbled back to camp, half dead. His heart had stopped, and luckily Yennefer had been there to start it again. When he awoke, Jaskier had his hand pressed to his chest, feeling his heartbeat. The Bard had tried to apologize, taking his hand away with obvious effort, but Geralt had only pulled it right back.

Now it was a sort of grounding method, for both of them. A way to connect and fully be there with each other in the moment.

Bright blue eyes flicked up to his. He paused, taking a shaky breath, and then suddenly began to sing, ever so softly.

"The moment I met you the colors of my life began to pool..."

Geralt easily recognized it. It was from one of his ballads. One of the real ones, the ones he never played. Not in dingy taverns nor grand courts. No, these… these he sang late into the night, when he thought the Witcher was asleep. With only the trees and the moths that flitted near their dying fire as an audience... and Geralt, always Geralt. For he'd never admit it, but those ballads seemed to speak to his very soul, in ways he never knew possible. He recognized it, but he didn't understand.

Jaskier rolled his eyes, he hadn't expected him to understand, but he never missed an opportunity to quote himself.

"Geralt, Oxenfurt… Oxenfurt may very well be bright and colorful, filled with my admirers, and endless food and ale." He chuckled softly. "But… Without you by my side, the colors of the world seem... dull. Without you, my music fades and the colors fade with it. You are my muse, Geralt of Rivia, a life without you is a life without music. And a life without music is one I simply cannot live."

Geralt reached out and pressed his thumb to the Bard's cheek, wiping away a tear Jaskier hadn't noticed fall. The Bard continued, shakier yet.

"Besides, these people, they- they listen, yes, and they care, and they… Ah, They understand what I'm saying, sure. But... They don't 'understand me' like you say. That's the thing, Geralt, and listen well. That's what makes this- this... friendship work. Against all odds. We aren't as different as it seems. No one understands us and, frankly, we hardly understand ourselves most of the time." He laughed wetly. "But we understand each other. Somehow, we understand."

He let the tears fall, not feeling any need to hide them. Geralt wiped away every one of them, each touch more tender and gentle than the last. Who ever would have guessed that a Witcher could be so soft. Well, Jaskier would have. But still.

"Because Geralt, Oxenfurt was never my home, nor was my birthplace... I-I never had a home... until, until you."

His voice broke, and the hand not cradling the Bard's face fell, tangling with the hand still pressed against his heart. Jaskier threaded their fingers together happily before continuing.

"You are my home, Geralt. You are my light, my sun, you are everything to me and more. I know you. Know you better than almost anyone... And-"

"Jaskier-"

Geralt rasped.

"And I love you."

All of the air was punched from Geralt's lungs. Jaskier reached up, resting his fingers on the Witcher's chin and gently tilting his head to catch his eyes.

Gold met cornflower blue.

"I know you... And I love you."

Geralt let out a choked noise.

The bard smiled sadly then.

"I am aware that you don't feel the same... but that doesn't matter because- because y-"

Geralt cut him off with a kiss. Because he was being idiotic and it seemed to be the right solution.

he had no regrets as the Bard's lips were impossibly soft against his. Softer than he had imagined… and he had imagined. The kiss was short and surprisingly chaste, as Jaskier seemed to be having trouble breathing. A smile tugged at Geralt's lips, and he let it.

Resting their foreheads together, one hand still tangled with the Bard's on his chest, the other cradling his neck softly.

"I love you too you idiot"

Jaskier laughed, a hint of hysteria to it.

"Took you long enough to tell me you buffoon."

Geralt smiled then, really smiled, crinkly eyes, overly sharp teeth and all.

Jaskier kissed him then, because it was just about the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen.

Geralt broke off rather quickly, much to Jaskier's annoyance. He had been waiting quite long enough, they both had...

The Witcher soothed him by running a hand through his hair. The Bard hummed and leaned into the touch as Geralt spoke.

"I was just thinking... well I always thought you were the sun, all bright and warm. But you said I'm your sun... I don't understand."

Jaskier grinned crookedly, wrapping his arms around the Witcher's neck.

"That’s incredibly poetic of you, Geralt. But no, you are the sun, I am the moon. Because I am only bright and warm because of your light, dear Witcher. Besides, have you seen your eyes? Golden like the sun. Or like fresh honey or- or a wheat field or-"

He kissed the bard once again. Finding it a quite effective and mutually beneficial method of shutting him up... though it wasn't the only one that came to mind. At this thought he grinned, a feral thing, and lifted the bard, carrying him to the bed and promptly shutting him up once more.

And again...

And again.

Their laughter and general, ahem, noise making, rang in the corridors until even the Bards had had quite enough of their merriment.

Luckily, the open road had no such complaint.

Needless to say... Geralt was rarely found to be in an especially Huffy mood after that day.

[thegayfromrulid]

Behind the Fic Writer: Pairings

I want to occasionally do little posts about me as a fic writer while we wait for Progressive! This is just a little snapshot into my favorite pairs to write for on AO3. 

Yujikiri

What I Like About the Dynamic: It’s the goofy one shipped with the grounded one! Also they have good chemistry together, being able to make up for what the other lacks. 

Preferred POV: First person from Kirito’s perspective; he’s very fun to write.

Favorite Tropes: Best Friends to Lovers, Enemies to Lovers, Awkward Pining

Favorite Thing I’ve Written for Them: Probably my one-shot Symphony.

Kirisuna

What I Like About the Dynamic: Nerdy child helps strict child be okay with being herself and then later is head over heels for her because she could whoop his ass...what isn’t to love here? 100% the way he looks at her and is like “Yes this is a strong woman and I love every bit of her” without question. 

Preferred POV: Tough, but I think still first person Kirito here; I love writing him when he’s in love with someone...

Favorite Tropes: Established Relationship, Soulmates, Love At First Sight

Favorite Thing I’ve Written for Them: Actually one I wrote the other day called Sunflower. 

Alisuna

What I Like About the Dynamic: Very strong rivals who wind up kissing energy. Two strong people who are connected through that strength. A very capable duo who should be feared if their love makes them stronger. 

Preferred POV: First or third person Asuna. 

Favorite Tropes: Rivals to Lovers, Not Realizing They’re Dating (But They So Are), 

Favorite Thing I’ve Written for Them: Still ongoing, Priestess of Light.

Eiyuuna

What I Like About the Dynamic: Tragic lovers who deserved better trope, would (have) died for one another. They will support the other until their dying breath and are just super loyal to one another and each other’s dreams. 

Preferred POV: Third person Eiji. 

Favorite Tropes: Awkward Pining, Musical Duo, Established Relationship

Favorite Thing I’ve Written for Them: My one-shot Butterfly that I am seriously considering turning into a bigger fic. 

Tieron

What I Like About the Dynamic: Very fricking SOFT lesbians that look like a chocolate-cherry combo that aesthetically pleases me. Supportive best friends to lovers, always helping out one another. Also they’re totally a baking couple. 

Preferred POV: Third person for either of them.

Favorite Tropes: Awkward Pining, Forbidden Love, Baking, Friends to Lovers

Favorite Thing I’ve Written for Them: An older one-shot called This Won’t Be the Last. 

Sheykhan

What I Like About the Dynamic: The truest enemies to lovers ship I’ve seen and holy shit it’s canon! Two powerful beings who are probably very wild in certain settings. Physically monsters when it comes to powers but emotionally soft for each other. 

Preferred POV: Third person for either of them. 

Favorite Tropes: Enemies to Lovers, Power Couple, Tough People Soft for Each Other

Favorite Thing I’ve Written for Them: I’ve only dedicated one thing soley to them, which is called Just Them. I’m also enjoying playing with a complex issue with them in Starship Centoria.

Tieren

What I Like About the Dynamic: Cherry limeade vibes are real. Soft boy meets soft girl and pines after her after heartbreak and pain filled his heart, and she’s the warmth he’s been looking for. A gentleman who appears timid but will protect her at all costs. 

Preferred POV: Third person Renly. 

Favorite Tropes: Awkward Pining, Awkward Crush, Healing Through Love, Shy Flirting

Favorite Thing I’ve Written for Them: A recent one-shot called Everfall. 

Eldrice

What I Like About the Dynamic: The perfect gentleman knight-in-shining armor feel from Eldrie combined with a “I don’t really need protecting but thank you” feel from Alice, who is too busy protecting him for him to realize she probably doesn’t need help. A master-student relationship without an awkward age gap. Also Eldrie comes across as a dramatic romantic who is dealing with Alice, who is very blunt and straightforward. 

Preferred POV: Third person Alice. 

Favorite Tropes: Knight in Shining Armor (for either let’s be real), Hopeless Romantic (Eldrie)

Favorite Thing I’ve Written for Them: So far, this ship only appears in Familiarity Within, but I hope to write more in the future!

Sugulis

What I Like About the Dynamic: Teasing character falls for easily flustered character. A girl who would crazy cheer for her girlfriend while she’s having a kendo match even though Suguha probably doesn’t want her being too loud. Rika totally teasingly feeling Suguha’s muscles. The pair also probably enjoys collectively messing with Kirito, a bonding point they enjoy a little TOO much. 

Preferred POV: Third person Suguha. 

Favorite Tropes: Teasing Flirting, Pining, Fluff and Humor

Favorite Thing I’ve Written for Them: A playful one-shot called Catch Us If You Can! was super fun to write. 

Renly/Renly’s Beloved

What I Like About the Dynamic: Very similar to the Yujikiri dynamic based off of some events in ARS. Soulmates who were inseparable. The guy fricking smiled at Renly as he died even though Renly was the reason he was dying and MAN that is some mad love right there. Respect even as I sob. 

Preferred POV: Third person Renly. 

Favorite Tropes: Soulmates, Awkward Pining, Attracted to the Other Because They’re a Literal Sunshine, Shy Flirting

Favorite Thing I’ve Written for Them: A little coffeeshop AU called The First Step. 

[scatterpatter]

Corren - 1 through 100 - You did this to yourself.

FUCK YOU *UN-IRONICS YOUR ASK*

UNDER THE FUCKING CUT

1. What do they smell like?

Bad. Do you think their party is able to regularly take showers? I thinketh the fuck not. ... Pine and old books when he can self care tho.

2. What is their voice like?

Listen I know Corren, being taller, would be more likely to have a deeper register but you'll tear "tenor Corren" out of my cold dead hands

3. What is their biggest motivator?

Spite.

4. What is their most embarrassing memory?

When he first met his BFF Alondra, he was so antisocial and good at ignoring people that she actually got the impression he might have been hard of hearing. She never let him live that down. (one day I'll finish this fic i promise)

5. How do they deal with/react to pain?

"I will keep all of my pain in here, and one day I'll die." ... Okay but listen he's squishy so he takes like one hit and is bloodied up. Someone get him a healer. Pls.

6. What do they like to wear?

He likes his cloak. Its weighty and soft(well. WAS soft. got a bit of wear and tear these days.) and like. Who doesnt love cloaks.

7. Which of their relationships have impacted them most positively?

Ohhhhh fuuuccck this one's tough. I might have to go with Torvid honestly. While the entire party has had a positive impact on him(and trust me I was this close to picking Alistair), Torvid's been more of the one to call him out on his bullshit and to, oh I don't know, talk about your emotions? Ever??? Yknow BEFORE they become too much to handle and he absolutely breaks down???

8. What’s the weirdest thing they’ve ever eaten?

Alistair's cooking.

9. Describe the way that they sleep.

Good luck finding him NOT cuddled up with at least one dog. Tbh he just enjoys cuddles in general.

10. What is their favorite food/kind of food?

FUCKIN. GIVE HIM A GOOD STEAK. THIS BOY IS MOSTLY CARNIVORISTIC.

11. What do they feel most insecure about?

As tempted as I am to say "His cooking", it's actually his singing.

12. How do they like to dress?

"Comfort over flashiness tbh. I gotta go ADVENTURING in whatever I wear after all."

"... Also don't you DARE perceive me as cishet."

13. How do they react to feelings of guilt?

Call him a genie because he will BOTTLE THAT SHIT UP.

14. How do they react to/deal with betrayal?

Denial :D

15. What is their greatest achievement?

Shrike: Killing his dad

Me: NOOOOOO

EDIT: WAIT THIS WAS ANSWERED IN Q99 WHAT THE HECK

16. What are they like when they’ve gotten too little sleep?

Somehow more of a dick than usual. Snappy and cranky and just. Mrehhh.

17. What are they like when they’re drunk?

Doesn't get drunk often, but when he does I imagine he's actually giggly and a little clingy. It's cute :)

18. What kind of music do they enjoy?

*Opens my Corren playlist* Oh yeah. It's either full edgy alt rock or indie alt "depressed millenial" tracks.

19. Are they right or left handed?

FFFuuhhhhck uhhhh well

Looking over my old art I can't seem to pick a dominant hand(I've even drawn him handling his sniper with either hand???????????) so like oops guess he's ambidextrous.

20. Fears?

The dark, the ocean, dying alone and forgotten, his friends losing their trust of him

21. Favorite kind of weather?

Rain!!!! Especially cool rain like what people often get in fall months.

22. Favorite color?

Indigo!!!

23. Do they collect anything?

Books :3

24. Do they prefer either hot or cold weather more?

Cold weather by far.

25. What is their eye color?

Electric blue!

26. What is their race/ethnicity?

Well his race is a homebrew race known as Marelienth. Uhhh ethnicity? Idk he's from a mountain town way up north *shrugs*

In human aus I imagine him as half-Mongolian half-Norwegian so ayee

27. Hair color?

Black!

28. Are they happy where they are currently?

No :D He loves adventuring with his party don't get me wrong but he still has a lot of trauma to unpack. ... Also he was just possibly broken up with soooo. :/

29. Are they a morning person?

NOPE.

30. Sunrise or sunset?

*motions to above question* Sunset.

31. Are they more messy or more organized?

More organized, actually!

32. Pet peeves?

*unravels a list. It's all shit the party has done. Mostly Alistair.*

33. Do they own any objects of significant personal importance?

HOOUSIDSJFK- HE- Y-YEAH HE SURE DOES

His amethyst pendant used to belong to his brother, Julian, and he gave it to Corren right before they were separated so you BET it's sentimental as shit and he wears it daily.

34. Least favorite food?

Mecha's usually a great cook but one time trolled him with some absurdly spicy curry he couldn't handle and he's never forgiven them.

35. Least favorite color?

Hmmm. Maybe... yellow?

36. Least favorite smell?

He spent a year with his party in a damp cave and no showers, so uh. I'll give you a guess.

37. When was the last time they cried?

Literally last night in our game's timeline :D Full breakdown and everything!

38. Were they with anybody the last time they cried?

Torvid :D He was there to comfort

39. Tell us about one of the times they got injured?

One time they were in combat and Corren took a few hits and was down to about 2hp or so. He had a temporary level thanks to Kieran, which boosted his HP a little bit. When he teleported them to a safe town, though, well... Torvid was waiting for them so that's cool. But uh. Yeah that temporary level wore off then and there, dropping Corn Cob to exactly 0hp and he just- flopped down face first in the snow and started dying then and there KJNDKLFNSLKN

40. Do they have any scars?

:)

Do you want to talk about the scar over his eye from a fight he got in with his dad or like. The scars on his limbs from the time he was literally experimented on.

41. Do they struggle with any mental health issues?

:)

Undiagnosed+Untreated Anxiety, Depression, DPDR, PTSD, just to name a few

42. Do they have any bad habits?

Running away from his problems, definitely.

43. Why might someone dislike them?

He's a pretentious nerd. He can be a dick if he doesn't care about you.

44. Why might someone love them?

He's an adorable nerd! He's a hopeless romantic and oddly enough an optimist. He's passionate and driven too!

45. Do they believe in ghosts?

Well ghosts are like- a canon proven thing in his world sooo. Yeah.

46. Is there anyone they would trust with their lives?

His party. Well- most in his party.

47. Are they romantically interested in anyone?

Nethyl :)

48. Are they dating/married to anyone?

He's dating Nethyl and they're in a happy and healthy relationship :) *politely ignores canon*

49. Do they like surprises?

NO >:(

50. When is their birthday?

Heroya 5th! I think. I don't wanna check, assume it's this.

51. How do they usually celebrate their birthday?

"You guys celebrate your watchdays?"

Jokes aside, he mainly just treats himself to a nice dinner and a new book or something :)

52. Do they have any family?

Two older siblings: Julian and Mila. His parents are Andreas and Fanya!

53. Are they close to their family?

... *Coughs*. He was close with his siblings, but Mila died and he hasn't seen Julian in 30 years. Was close with his dad but last time they saw each other, they fought and Corren might have killed him so. ... Yeah. :/

54. What is their MBTI type?

FUCK uh. I... N... T... J? INTJ. Sure.

55. What is their zodiac sign?

In Sekrezia: The eagle

In our world: Uhhh. Idk. Capricorn????

56. What Hogwarts House would they be in?

Uhhh. Ravenclaw??? I know almost nothing about HP :/

57. What D&D alignment are they?

THIS ONE'S EASY- lawful neutral!

58. Do they ever have nightmares? If so, what about?

:)

Used to have typical nightmares, nothing special. Nowadays though he often dreams of being underwater. Not drowning, though. It's... weird. He doesn't like those.

59. What are their views on death?

He's a necromancer lol.

Death is inevitable, though. It's a necessary part of life. Death is not an entire loss, though. One lives on in the memories others carry of them, in the love they hold in their hearts. Death is complicated, but that's okay.

60. What is something that they’re sure to laugh at?

Alistair :)

61. When bored, how do they pass time?

Dog time :)

62. Do they enjoy being outside?

... Ehhhhhh?

63. Do they have an accent?

Technically??? It's an accent from where he's from but like. I just barely tweak my own voice when I rp him so? Damn Corren I'm sorry you've been cursed with east coast dialect.

64. Upon seeing a slice of chocolate cake, what is their first reaction?

"Damn who's the rich bastard here?" (cake is kinda a delicacy in their world- not like elites only but not NEARLY as common as it is here)

65. If they knew they were going to die, what would they do/say?

Reassurance mode to whomever he's with. "Hey, hey, it's okay. I'm okay. Remember what I told you, death is a natural part of life, yeah? I don't have any regrets, I'm okay... Just. Thanks. For giving me a chance. Thank you. Thank you."

66. How do they feel about sex?

I SWEAR he's allosexual. I'm just bad at writing allosexuals.

67. What is their sexuality?

He doesn't really know how to pin it down, so he just calls himself "queer". Definitely not straight, that's all he knows.

68. Do they become squeamish at the sight of blood?

AHAHA no. He's hella desensitized

69. Is there anything that they find really gross?

Skulking cyst. Look it up at your own volition. It's. NO.

70. Which TV Trope(s) best describes them?

It's 12:21 in the morning and I'm NOT about to scroll through a bunch of tv tropes just. just. NERD stereotype.

71. Do they enjoy helping people?

Yyyyes? Only really if it's the people he cares about.

72. Are they allergic to anything?

Bullshit.

73. Do they have a pet?

WINGTHARA!! HIS SKELE-DOG!!!

74. Are they quick to anger? What are they like when they loose their temper?

Oh yeah he's all bark and no bite. He usually just throws a little fit and/or yells.

75. How patient are they?

More than he should be :/

76. Are they good at cooking?

AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA

77. Favorite insult? Do they insult people often?

Oh yes he insults the others all the time. No particular favorite, he likes so spice it up.

78. How do they act when they’re particularly happy?

Stim. Stim. Stim. His eyes get all sparkly and he. He.

79. What do they do when they learn about other people’s fears?

He will do everything in his power to assure they won't ever have to deal with their fears alone- You afraid of spiders? It's his job to get the spiders from now on so you won't have to deal with them.

80. Are they trustworthy?

Oh yeah. He's like Rapunzel- doesn't break promises.

81. Do they try to hide their emotions? Are they good at it?

Oh yes he tries to hide it. And yes, he's awful at it.

82. Do they exercise regularly?

Yes and no? No like- exercise regimen, but the amount of travelling and fighting they do is just- a workout in and of itself

83. Are they comfortable with the way they look?

Yeah! He's cute and he knows it baybie!!!

84. What are some physical features that they find attractive on people?

He,,, he likes someone who's physically stong,,, Muscles are,,, aaaaa >///>

85. What kind of personalities do they find attractive?

Someone he can nerd out with :)

86. Do they like sweet foods?

Impartial to it. He won't turn sweets away but he's not crazy about them either.

87. What is their age?

43, the equivalent of- I think someone in their mid 30s?

88. Are they tall or short or somewhere in between?

He's 6'8" :) Which is actually normal for his race

89. Do they wear glasses or contacts?

Sometimes! I like to think he has reading glasses or something like that.

90. Do they consider themselves attractive?

HE'S CUTE AND HE KNOWS IT.

91. What is their sense of humor like?

Julian tainted his sense of humor and now he finds the most dumb shit hilarious. Think very millenial/GenZ humor like "I wish I was Jared, 19"

92. What mood are they most often in?

"I don't get paid enough for this" or Fear.jpg

93. What kinds of things anger them?

People who don't keep their FUCKING WORD. Oh and like. Yknow. Half the shit his party does.

94. Outlook on life?

Again he's??? Oddly an optimist? In the "Things will get better and that is a fucking THREAT" way, but still optimist!

95. What kind of things make them sad/depressed?

Talk about his family :) Or the fact that his boyfriend might want him dead :)

96. What is their greatest weakness?

He's squishy as fuck. He goes down easy.

97. What is their greatest strength?

He's extremely intelligent and great with magic and his sniper!

98. Something that they regret?

Not doing more to stop his brother when he tried to resurrect their sister

99. Biggest accomplishment?

Either convincing an entire town his name is Torren or accidentally convincing some very OP people that he's secretly a dragon.

100. Create your own!

FUCK YOU I SPENT LIKE 2 HOURS ON THIS. NO PROOFREAD. IVE ALREADY DESIGNED CORREN'S AND NETHYL'S HYPOTHETICAL KIDS. ANYWAYS THEY'RE TWIN IRINAGA AND I'VE NAMED THEM AFTER THE DNDADS TWINS: THEIR NAMES ARE LARK AND SPARROW.

[artificialqueens]

Things That Were (Branjie) - pureCAMP

A/N - … Hi.

I won’t get into it, I don’t think I need to. But here’s a return no one expected, at least.

I wrote this based on some Feelings I have and also Jinkx’s song The Auld Lang Syne Song from… Christmas Queens 3? It has this beautiful sad, wistful, nostalgic kind of feel and it made me nostalgic for love and that strange time between Christmas and New Years. Largely sad, mostly bittersweet. Dedicated to my love Ortega, and in part for the nostalgia fic challenge.

I appreciate any and all support I’ve been given over these past months.

You have a new memory from (1) years ago!

Brooke swipes across absent-mindedly. She doesn’t think much about it, they pop up all the time in the holiday season. There’s a little loading screen, decorated with animated tinsel, that flashes in her face before every ounce of breath is knocked out of her body.

This is what dying feels like. Brooke wonders if there’s a loading screen before entrance into the afterlife. She supposes it would allow the dead some time to adjust, at least.

It’s a perfect, filtered picture. The Christmas tree looks beautiful, even as the pine dies, all decked in shades of red and gold, glittering twists and lights that twinkle gently enough to lull you to sleep. It stands tall in the background of the photo, illuminating everything with a cosy glow. At the forefront of the image, Brooke is that kind of happy, sleepy, warm drunk. Full of Baileys, probably, and little mini mince pies and leftover chocolate from boxes opened and half-finished. There’s a glass of red wine behind her, slightly visible on the table. She’s cradling Henry to her chest, kissing the top of his head.

Vanessa is next to her. The remnants of plum lipstick still on her lips, grinning, Apollo in her arms. She’s beautiful. She looks and feels like how Christmas is supposed to - welcoming, kind, gentle, sweet. And Brooke knows that she’s drunk too, and right after this she burst into laughter and her foghorn voice shattered the cosiness and it was so right and so them. And she knows how her stomach had twisted horribly after they took it.

It’s perfect. She won’t share this one. It will stay in her archives. It’s really been a year, huh.

The cats look at her accusingly, as if they know. They probably do know. They know everything about Brooke. Every flaw, every fault. If they could speak, she knows they’d ask for Vanessa instead of her. Well, tough. Vanessa’s gone, Brooke thinks, almost aggressively as if she’s trying to telepathically tell them so. Vanessa’s been gone for a year.

Or has she? Vanessa isn’t the one who left. Vanessa isn’t the one who walked out without warning, who pretended the bliss was as blissful as it looked and then ran from it all. No, no, that was Brooke.

She shuts off her phone, clicks the button to make the picture fade to black. The switch from warm and bright to black is jarring. It’s probably how Vanessa felt, waking up to an empty bed.

“Brookieeeeee,” Vanessa sings. She’s grinning, cheesing so hard that her eyes have disappeared, nothing but the flicker of a fake eyelash visible from them. “Brooklyn Briiiiiidge…”

Brooke turns, laughing, and waves away the whistles and teasing mumbles from their friends. “Vanjie?”

She pushes her lips together and makes kissy noises, wordlessly begging. Brooke gently holds her chin, lifts her head, kisses. She tastes like cinnamon and nutmeg and chocolate, a festive concoction of things that Brooke usually hates but loves on her. Vanessa looks amazing in gold and she’s an Oscar from head to toe, sparkling, beautiful.

Akeria makes pointed eye contact with Brooke, then mimes gagging herself with two fingers.

Vanessa rolls her eyes, the fondness on her face so evident that it could light up the entire bar. “I love you.”

And Brooke kisses her. The kiss says what it needs to.

Christmas a whole year ago. Brooke made a series of decisions. Stupid ones, maybe. Definitely. She doesn’t know who she’s kidding.

Funny how she finds it so hard to kid herself. Apparently, she had no issue kidding Vanessa.

A little while after Silky comments that Brooke really shouldn’t still be living in the shithole apartment she rented at 20, she realises that as rude and bluntly honest it had seemed at the time, she’s right. She resolves not to mention this to Silky, in case her ego inflates too far and she flies away like Aunt Marge (she thinks this with love), and starts looking online. And it’s impossible.

So out comes the phone, because there’s only one person to go to for this. For anything. Because she’s always there and she’s always willing and she only ever wants some quality time as payment.

B: Vanjie [8.22pm]

B: Vanjerella….. [8.22pm]

B: Vanessaaaaaa [8.23pm]

V: brooke lynn hytes [8.24pm]

B: Not the full name… am I in trouble? [8.24pm]

V: do u wanna be? ;) [8.24pm]

B: Hmm… I’ll think about it… [8.24pm]

B: Anyway I need your heeeeeelp [8.24pm]

V: i gotchu boo [8.25pm]

V: what u need baby [8.25pm]

B: Cutie [8.25pm]

B: I’m going apartment hunting, help me look? Idk what to even look for [8.25pm]

V: exciting!!!!!! [8.26pm]

V: babyyyyy this is so exciting for u omg!!! I love moving [8.26pm]

V: i hope i can help!! im usually terrible at this but i think we’ll have fun!! [8.26pm]

V: although i gotta wonder what made u ask me instead of somebody smart like nina [8.27pm]

B: Ah shit, great point nvm I’ll ask her [8.28pm]

B: Jk. Asked u because ur always here visiting, may as well find something u like as well <3 [8.28pm]

V: u bout to make a bitch cry [8.29pm]

Vanessa was over in maybe ten minutes tops, Brooke remembers. It was like she could read Brooke’s mind, and she’d brought coffee for them both to keep them going and even a little bag of kitty treats from the place she’d stopped at (“a guy was sellin’ them outside and I felt a little sorry for him in the cold so I bought ‘em. They’re good, the ones you usually get!”). They were up for hours scrolling, and then searching in person just so that she could act as a second opinion.

Brooke stands up from the couch and walks slowly, heavily, towards the window. Her Christmas tree is silver this year, silver and purple, and as pretty and icy as it had seemed when she decorated it, it feels cold and desolate now. It reflects on the glass and for a moment it’s hard to focus on the world outside when the world inside is so disturbed, but she manages. Dark as it is, the lights of the city are never gone, and she has a beautiful view of a metropolitan paradise laid out beneath her.

Vanessa loved the view. She picked it, in a way. Brooke was unsure about the viewing, and Vanessa wheedled, tugging her arm and telling her she’d love it.

She did love the view. But it was Vanessa’s view, that she saw first, that she loved first. Now it just makes Brooke feel sick. Sick at herself. Like it’s not hers to look at, and she shouldn’t.

She looks away.

A change of scenery helps to calm the mind, Brooke thinks. Nina told her that once, she vaguely recalls, as she sobbed helplessly into the arms of the only one who would listen. The only one who didn’t think of her as a raging evil bitch, and more of a hopeless coward instead. It’s not much better, but it’s a small comfort given how much she hates herself for it. She’s more inclined to go with what the rest of them all thought after it happened.

It’s late, anyway. Maybe it really is time to read a book and push down the thoughts and try to sleep away the regret.

“Oh god, oh god. Vane- fuck,” She breathes.

Waves of pleasure shoot through her, beginning deep in her belly and sending shockwaves all up Brooke’s back. Her hands grasp at the sheets around her head, desperate, clinging, her mind and body totally incognizant of each other. Her body is on fire, and her mind isn’t even functioning correctly.

Vanessa’s mouth is hot and fast and her tongue is skilled, and every time she grazes over her clit with the swift, feather-light touches Brooke thinks she’s going to pass out. Her fists grab tighter and her toes curl and a gasp floats from her lips, accidental, unstoppable. She manages to tear one hand away and threads it into Vanessa’s dark hair, urging her to keep going.

“Don’t stop, don’t stop, fuck…” She manages.

The goddess between her legs doesn’t stop, not until long after the inaudible mumblings have stopped falling from Brooke’s lips and her breaths are finally starting to slow, and she wonders how Heaven is meant to be above them when she feels herself sinking into it right now. Brooke thinks absent that maybe Heaven is here and everything else is Hell because nothing feels like being with Vanessa feels, and when they’re naked and intertwined and breathless and warm maybe they’re closer to God than they’ll ever be.

She catches herself before three words make their way out.

“God, this fucking mattress…” Is what she ends up producing. It’s digging into her back, lumpy and old. She’s only just noticed, in truth.

Vanessa’s head lifts, her makeup smudged in a way that feels beyond sinful to look at. She licks her lips coyly, sucks off her finger, and offers a lazy, heady sort of smile.

“The mattress? That’s all you got, boo?”

She’s laughing, happy, delirious. Brooke laughs too. “I don’t have to say anything about you. Isn’t the state of me enough?”

It is. On her back, chest peppered with bruises not yet formed, chest rising and falling beyond her control, legs still twitching slightly. Brooke’s completely spent, blissed out, exhausted. Vanessa’s still worn out from hers and yet her tongue is musical and the melodies were handcrafted by all the muses of the ancient world.

Still smiling, Vanessa shifts so she’s hovering on top of Brooke and then leans down to kiss her, their bodies colliding, Brooke tasting herself on the lips of her lover. It’s nights like these that make her feel like the world is a good place to be. That everything is fixable, everything is brilliant.

“We should get you a new mattress, baby,” Vanessa tells her when they break apart. “And I’ll probably never leave.”

Brooke forces a laugh, but the idea isn’t laughable. Vanessa and Forever go hand in hand, somehow.

And they do go shopping for a mattress for Brooke’s place. They wander through stores and discuss mattress firmness and size and height and flop down until they feel as though they’re ready to drop, and then Vanessa lands on one and yells “BROOKIE!” so loud that her voice - that goddamn voice - almost shatters the glass. She’s laying down with a beam on her face like nothing Brooke’s ever seen, pure sunshine, and she clearly has the best taste in mattresses because when she buys it, Brooke’s never slept so good in her life.

The bed is cold. Brooke deserves a cold bed. She left Vanessa in one, so it’s the least she can deal with it.

They weren’t always at Brooke’s - sometimes it was Vanessa’s too, for the sake of variety. Looking back on those memories makes Brooke feel like the biggest idiot in the world. Which she is, of course, and she knows it. But even here, the mini Christmas tree is cold and isolated, and Vanessa gave it to her as an early gift last Christmas, and Vanessa chose the mattress, and Vanessa picked the view. Brooke stares at everything that Vanessa has touched in her life and wonders why in the world she let herself ruin something so good. It’s selfish and stupid and self-sabotaging and that angel of a woman deserves so much more.

She thinks about sharing the picture. She could caption it with that song, ‘Now I’m in the house you chose and the bed you bought to face your perfect view’, and that could be her apology. Because she knows all too well she’s too much of a blind coward to say it properly. And Vanessa won’t see it even if she does share, because they’re not friends anymore. Someone will get it to her - probably Silky - but that’s not worth it.

Brooke opens her phone again, and swipes away from the picture before she does something stupid. Then she opens her texts.

B: Are you busy? [10.11pm]

B: Oh shit sorry, just saw Yvie’s insta, u guys are out tonight. Ignore this x [10.13pm]

N: No no! They’re out, I’m home because I was working all day and I was too tired :( [10.19pm]

N: What do you need hun? <3 [10.20pm]

B: If ur tired it’s okay, I’ll talk to u another time x [10.20pm]

N: Shut up. I’m here [10.21pm]

N: I think I know what’s going on. Right time of year [10.21pm]

B: I’m just an idiot, idk [10.22pm]

N: Nope. Stay where you are, I’m coming over. [10.22pm]

N: Did she text you? [10.24pm]

B: She’s not that stupid lmao why would she [10.24pm]

Nina is the only one who bothered to ask what the hell was going on when it happened. It’s not like Brooke can blame the others, and she doesn’t either. If someone did that to her best friends, she would be the same. And she is the same - she hates herself passionately for it. But Nina has this untraceable kindness to her, this unfathomable tenderness that seems to have no beginnings, no ends, no limits. It flows so freely from her, like a gift.

She has no idea how much time passes by crying and looking blankly at her phone, or even any idea when she started crying, but the doorbell rings and Brooke answers it already in tears and Nina sweeps her into a hug like it’s the easiest thing in the world, and maybe it is. To love your friends is easy and natural, like taking a breath in clean air.

To love someone special is like inhaling in water, drowning, getting lost. And you have to be content with the helplessness in order to survive it, or at least strong enough to swim and keep it going. You can’t just sink. Brooke couldn’t handle drowning.

“I’m a fucking idiot,” She weeps into Nina’s arms, once her choking sobs settle into streaming tears. It’s not better, just different. “I wanted to be with her forever and that was so fucking scary.”

Nina rubs her back. “Breathe, breathe. It’s okay, it’s gonna be okay.”

“Is- is she okay?”

Stupid question. Brooke isn’t sure she even wants to know.

The hug finishes; they’re on the couch again. Nina pulls out her phone, frowning, and pauses like she’s thinking. She looks guilty, which is unusual.

“I would never normally show a friend’s text, y’know? It’s private, I don’t do all that betraying trust stuff. But I know she’ll delete these tomorrow morning and I think you should see them before she does.”

V: so its been a ear then hasnr it [10.56pm]

V: a year of fwithout brook [10.56pm]

V: honestly fuck her yknw what i man [10.56pm]

V: she fuckin broke mt heart man why did she do that [10.56pm]

V: i miss her an the stupid vats so muhc [10.57pm]

V: tha sonf auld lang syne plaed earlier in the bar bef4 eht club [10.57pm]

V: very apropaotye hahahahksjkdh [10.57pm]

V: may rhe acwanriance be forgot forever and fuckung ever [10.57pm]

V: is okay i can lobe w the bitternness [10.57pm]

V: i just kisd girls unt il it dont hurt [10.57pm]

Brooke sobs. Again, loud, shaking, broken. Because Vanessa is hurting so much even a year after it happened and everything feels so raw and it’s entirely her own fault for crushing the dream they were building.

“I miss her so fucking much, I don’t know why- I don’t know why I walked out,” She babbles, helpless and hopeless and hurt. “I’m fucking lying, Nina, I know why, I know why I did it. Why did I fucking-”

She knows all too well. Because Vanessa helped her pick an apartment and Vanessa picked her bed and Vanessa loved her cats. Because Brooke could imagine them getting married and growing old and it had barely been four months by the time Christmas and New Years were rolling around and everything seemed so serious and so intense, and that didn’t mean it wasn’t fun but it was scary in the same breath because speed was terrifying.

Brooke is bitter, but only at herself.

New Years Day. January 1st, a brand new year, a bright new start. The frost glistens freshly on the undisturbed morning, and all across the city, singles and couples sleep through the dawn, hungover or still passed out drunk, party hats akimbo, party blowers still suspended in smudged lipsticky mouths.

It’s early, enough that the daylight is blinding but pale and faded. Vanessa’s bedroom has the huge window that she never covers, and she sleeps through it like the dead. Brooke wakes up and looks around.

She looks at everything but Vanessa, but eventually her gentle snuffling is too much to ignore and she looks down at her beautiful sleeping form. She’s a disaster, hair everywhere and glitter still all over her face, and she’s the most breathtaking woman in the entire wide world. Something heavy and all encompassing sweeps into Brooke’s chest, and she can identify it by name. It’s only four letters, but it strikes a fear in her like an old god from a lost world. She needs to vomit. She needs to run. She needs an escape.

Before she even knows who she is again, any of the things that ended up staying half their time at Vanessa’s are stuffed into a couple of carrier bags and she’s in her dress from the party and out of the door into the cold winter air, panicked, unable to breathe.

It’s a heart attack, she thinks. Or a panic attack. It’s an attack that feels like it’s going to kill her, and she runs away, and she runs all the way home and barricades the door shut, dropping her belongings on the floor, numb and confused and cold. It’s the start of the new year and she begins it alone, hyperventilating.

Within a couple of days the worried texts subside and the angry vengeful ones start flooding in, and just like that Brooke’s lost the best thing that ever happened to her and all of her friends along with it. Because she got up on new year’s day and abandoned Vanessa fast asleep and that was the end.

It’s ugly and chilling, how much she cries into Nina’s gentleness. The only thing that stops her is, ironically, the thing that makes her feel worse, the characteristic ‘ping!’ of Nina’s phone, undoubtedly more drunk texts.

V: i hoper he fucjibg bubble bursts this tie of year [11.23pm]

V: every jhanduary first for the rest of hersitnkin life [11.23pm]

“I deserve it,” Brooke whispers hoarsely, “But she doesn’t. She never did.”

“Neither of you do,” Nina tells her sadly. “They don’t all hate you, they hate what you did the way friends always do when breakups happen. You both deserve to be happy. And both of you have been dreading New Year’s for this exact reason.”

It hurts to hear, and Brooke wishes she doesn’t have to listen, but her friend is so goddamn wise it feels stupid not to.

“Two days until it’s officially New Year.” Nina kisses her hand. “Can you keep living like this, Brooke?”

It’s not like she even has to say it for Brooke to understand. “She hates me.”

Nina shakes her head. “No she doesn’t. She loves you.”

“That’s worse.”

“You love her.”

“I know.”

“You got scared.”

“I still am.”

“Face your fears.” Nina holds her at arm’s length, forcing her to look right into her face. “This hurts more than what blundering through it would, surely? Fire doesn’t always mean you get burned, sweetie. Sometimes it just warms you.”

She makes no fucking sense.

“I can’t play with Vanessa like that again.” Brooke swears. “I can’t.

The transitional period between Christmas and New Year doesn’t feel like real time. It’s just liminal space, a waiting room of chronology, a suspension in space. If she’s honest, trying now causes no harm, because it’s like it didn’t even happen. Maybe she should, maybe she will.

Eventually Nina leaves, pressing a kiss to her forehead and promising that somehow everything is going to be okay. She’s like a fairy godmother, Brooke thinks to herself. Always knowing, always positive, and total magic to behold.

She’s awake all night long just staring at the time on the top of her phone, lying in bed sideways and wondering if she’ll do it. It has to be right. It can’t be when she’ll still be awake and drunk and angry. But it can’t be on the anniversary of her biggest fuck up, because that just feels like some kind of sick joke and that’s not what she wants.

The entire night passes. At six am, her finger hovers over the send button for a full three minutes. She counts the seconds.

B: I fucked up. If u’ll have me, I’ll never mess u around again. I didn’t know I could love someone so much and then u came along and everything sped up and I wasn’t fast enough. I shouldn’t have thrown away what we had when it was as close to perfect as anything can get. This message is all me me me I I I but if ur okay with it, I think new year should begin right this time. I’ll hold u and I won’t let go, and u don’t even have to hold me as long as ur here. Everything is up to u. I’ll learn to live with what I did if u say no. Because I totally get why u should hate me. I hate me too, kinda. U did nothing wrong. U were and will always be perfect. [6.03am]

B: Full disclosure is I was scared of how much and how quick I loved u. But it didn’t go away even when I hurt u. I was stupid to do that, and I don’t wanna do another year in the shadow of that massive mistake. [6.05am]

B: I won’t say it here, because thats cheap for u. But I’ll say it when I see u again. I promise, and I want to [6.13am]

She falls asleep with her phone in her hand after being awake all night long.

She wakes up four hours later.

V: ur dumb [9.51am]

V: theres a party at yvies for new years yknow [9.52am]

V: im not saying ill kiss u at midnight but [9.52am]

V: fuck around and find out [9.52am]

(tags: purecamp, branjie, brooke lynn hytes, vanessa vanjie mateo, lesbian au, things that were, fic challenge, nostalgia challenge, nina west)

[porcupine-girl]

Untamed Fic Rec List

Look, most of these are reasonably popular fics already, so if you’ve been in this fandom for a couple months you’ve likely read them. Which is not how I normally do rec lists, but I’m new enough to Untamed that I’m still reading through all the fics by authors I know from other fandoms plus ones that have been personally recced to me, so I haven’t made it into the deep dive of underappreciated fics that I normally like to rec.

It doesn’t help that one of these recs is 445K, so for like two weeks straight it was basically all I was reading.

BUT if, like me, you are rather new to this fandom and its fics, here are some good ones:

The Same Moon Shines Series by sami

This is the 445K behemoth, made up of 23 works, and is technically made up of three interrelated series. The first fic, which establishes the whole universe/multiverse, is 139K on its own. Basically, decades into the canon future, WWX invents time travel.

He goes back to being born, but is reborn with all his memories intact. And he fixes, like, fucking everything and it’s so, so fucking satisfying. Everything’s not perfect though - for example, he like lowkey (highkey?) traumatizes LXC by showing him his previous life via empathy and that has some consequences eventually. Featuring ace poly JC/LXC/WQ triad.

Then in a cracky subseries, appropriately called “ridiculous future bullshit”, we assume that the main six from this universe (WWX, LWJ, JC, WQ, LXC, JYL, & Lan Sizhui) all achieve immortality and find out what they’re up to in the modern day, where they’re revered in the Five Nations (this does a great job of staying in the canon world instead of ours) but of course white Western assholes do things like try and make a disney movie called Hanguang-Jun and the Yiling Patriarch where they marry LWJ off to a girl.

And then in a third subseries, which so far has only one WIP fic, we go back to the canon universe, find out that JC and LWJ were stuck there watching WWX disappear in his time machine array (so WWX actually split off into another universe, he didn’t rewind his own), and so they get into the array having no idea what it will do but wanting to chase down the asshole they love. And so a third universe is born, where they are both born with their memories but WWX is not. I absolutely love seeing how different their priorities are from WWX’s in terms of what they want to change in their new life.

(Also: This is technically a MDZS fic that usually goes with novel canon over show canon if there’s a discrepancy, so if like me you haven’t read the whole novel you might need to look up some plot points now and then.)

The Vermillion Ribbon by @unforth

AU where Wei WuXian was taken in by Wen Qing and Wen Ning’s parents instead of the Jiangs. LWJ (who is the POV character) is a super DUPER dick to him at first, like even moreso than in canon, but the speed with which he regrets his choices is breathtaking and extremely satisfying.

LWJ is a VERY unreliable narrator. He has absolutely no idea what is going on with himself or anyone else at any point in time. Eventually he at least becomes self-aware of this fact, and can at least go wait am I missing something? I think I’m missing several somethings but fuck if I know what. Wei WuXian not understanding this about him leads to some miscommunication, because WWX doesn’t get that LWJ needs absolutely everything spelled out to him in single-syllable words with crayon drawings and y’know, WWX isn’t going to be straightforward anytime he can pretend he’s TOTALLY FINE :D :D :D instead.

LWJ’s friendship with NHS is magical, and NHS in general gets 810% more opportunity to scheme and plot pre-time-of-NMJ’s-canonical-death than in canon and is honestly living his best life. It’s also valuable for LWJ to have a scheming friend because, aside from realizing he misjudged WWX, this is how he starts to figure out that he’s a dumbass who has no idea what is going on ever. But he can count on NHS to always be ten steps ahead, so it’s okay.

(ETA: I’m sorry, I made unforth feel like maybe LWJ was too dense, and no, he’s very much not stupid in general. Like, honestly the fact that he becomes so self-aware of the things he’s bad at, and does things like trust NHS to always understand the stuff he’s missing, makes him come off as very intelligent. It’s just in the specific realm of understanding anything that people say or do that isn’t 100% honest and straightforward that he is just entirely hopeless in a rather relatable way, and like I said, WWX’s go-to is hiding any and all pain so that is a bad combo.)

The Fire Lapping Up the Creek by notevenyou

This diverges from canon when WWX is on his way to Jin Ling’s one month celebration, but doesn’t bring Wen Ning along. So when Jin Zixun attacks it goes very poorly for him, poorly enough that Jin Zixuan thinks he’s dead and it’s reported back at Carp Tower as such. Sending LWJ into a dissociative state. He manages to break through to reality just long enough to find out that Jin Zixuan took WWX’s body back to the burial mounds and left it with Wen Qing, and to get on his sword and go directly there. Thankfully, it turns out that WWX is not dead, but only just barely so.

So LWJ stays there, because now that he spent some amount of time (he isn’t really sure if it was like five minutes or two hours, because dissociation) thinking WWX was dead he now knows that he should never, ever be anywhere but with WWX.

Honestly, it almost feels like a spoiler to say WWX doesn’t die, but there’s no major character death warning while there IS one for graphic violence so it’s not a chose not to warn either, so that’s technically not a spoiler. But things are touch-and-go for him for a very, very long time. And the romance is a slow burn with pining galore. And you get to see LWJ teaching A-Yuan to play the guqin, so like imagine being WWX and you wake up from almost dying to see that going on in your cave.

Velle: to will, to wish by @aerlalaith

This one is actually canon-compliant, and as it’s both quite a bit shorter and more straightforward, plot-wise, than the others, my writeup will be short but that doesn’t mean I loved it any less. Basically, it’s the process of LWJ deciding to adopt A-Yuan in the aftermath of WWX’s death. It starts just after he’s been beaten for turning against the other cultivators, and at first it’s mostly his grief and both physical and emotional pain. A-Yuan starts slipping in to visit him. and LWJ isn’t sure if he’s really okay with that at first.

Of course he becomes very okay with it, but the Lan elders and Lan Qiren and all aren’t just going to be like “ok sure you can barely walk you should def adopt a four-year-old of unclear origins who may or may not have something to do with your demonic dead boyfriend and the evil people he helped, that’s cool,” so it’s not that simple.

There’s a followup fic where, years later, LWJ chooses the courtesy name Sizhui and Xichen gives him shit for it.

save a sword, ride a socialist by sysrae / @fozmeadows

Continuing on my grand tour of Untamed fics by my fave writers from other fandoms, I get to enjoy having overlapped with foz on a third straight fandom which is just fabulous. I totally thought I wasn’t gonna read AUs and then this asshole comes along and writes AUs, which is not playing fair.

I especially love this because it’s modern day but much like ridiculous future bullshit it’s modern day in (more or less) a canonish world, not our world. So like, they fly on swords, but not long distances because it’s easier to take a train or drive rather than use up all that spiritual energy.

Lan Qiren and Jin Guangshan miss the old ways, though, and they think the best ancient tradition to bring back is arranged marriage! Because that will go over well with today’s youth. They try to make LWJ marry Mianmian but he’s like “um I’m gay” and LQ throws a hissy fit about that so Jin Zixuan (who is LWJ’s bestie and is fucking hilarious) hatches a plot for LWJ to cause LQ to stroke out by bringing WWX to Lan Xichen’s birthday party as his fake date.

But when LWJ and WWX meet up to talk this over, LWJ is instantly fucked because WWX has a small child with him and it turns out that this small child is the orphan he adopted. He doesn’t notice he’s fucked until a few days later, though, when WWX comes over for “kissing practice” and they fuck and he calls Jin Zixuan all “I think I caught a feel, what do?” and JZX is like idk, you’re a moron, don’t ask me to clean up your moron messes. And the next day LWJ buys a car seat.

Lan Wangji heard about Jack 110% Zimmermann and said “challenge accepted,” is what I’m saying here. And now I’ve written as much about this 33k fic as I did about the 445k, so I’ll shut up before I just recount the entire plot.

[gascon-en-exil]

Crimson Flower lets Edelgard institute all her progressive reforms, and puts a definitive kibosh on both the Agartheans and the dragons. Various other character endings describe the slitherers resurfacing and being foiled again. Dmitri the emperor, and he's a well-meaning lad who probably makes reasonable strides against racism and systemic crest bias, but he largely keeps things going as they were. He makes it very clear that he hasn't thought very hard about his position in the world.

Edelgard, on the other hand, is justified in everything she does by virtue of her circumstances. At no point does she have any options other than declaring war on the continent or dying, because she has been in the clutches of the Agartheans her entire life. They want to use her as a figurehead, but make it very clear that they will bump her off if she steps out of line. She cannot prevent the war, so she instead makes it her own, and rallies her forces until she's can make a move against them.

Dimitri is a hereditary autocrat who secures his family's grip on the entirety of a continent, 2/3 of which he obtains through conquest. Really struggling to see the 'not an autocrat' angle here even if he does some positive reforms later in life. Like we get a fairly decent look at how non-traumatized Dimitri acts in CF and it all sets up that he entered into a political marriage and had a quick child to secure the inheritance. Hereditary monarchy is a scourge even if you have a 'good' monarch

FIrst, let’s get the most obvious thing out the way: there is no evidence that Dimitri has a political marriage and an heir in CF. 

The line about the Blaiddyd line continuing almost certainly refers to his uncle Rufus, who is killed in Cornelia’s coup in the non-CF routes but is presumably still alive in CF because she never gets the chance to carry it out. In the Dimidue death scene Dimitri expresses regret for not being able to get revenge for his family among others, so he’s still thinking of family in terms of his slain father and stepmother. I’ve also pointed out several times that Dimitri’s fondness for orphans is noted in story text and in AM’s ending tapestry, such that it’s entirely reasonable to conclude that he adopts regardless of circumstances as a way of diminishing the role of Crest-based inheritance. In CF his circumstances seem to be nearly identical to the Dimidue paired ending where there is no queen in sight and Dedue is a royal consort in all but name. I highly doubt they chose to adopt while fighting a war that’s by now been dragging on for over five years, so the conclusion about Rufus stands (even more so because he’s noted elsewhere to be a shameless womanizer so it’s likely he’s got one or more bastards somewhere). If you’re looking for a hereditary monarch who founds or perpetuates a dynasty, that would be Claude, or Byleth in various VW/SS endings. Quibbling over monarch vs. emperor has little meaning in this context, especially when Edelgard stepping down after an indeterminate amount of time and naming a successor is fully in line with real world dictatorships. Non-democratic systems of government are the standard for all of FE, although the beginnings of a representative government mentioned in Dimitri’s solo ending might be the single closest instance of a significant movement away from that even if it’s only a constitutional monarchy with the heir to the throne a Crestless adoptee. This follows naturally from the years of the timeskip where Dimitri was homeless and in and out of the slums of the Kingdom, where he saw the suffering of the common people firsthand and, as seen in the AM parley, came to understand their needs better than Edelgard ever attempts. In conjunction with Claude’s ignorance of the lives of the Almyran people as seen in his Cyril supports, it’s actually reasonable to conclude that Dimitri has thought about his position relative to his subjects more than either of the other leaders.

And speaking of Claude, Dimitri does not conquer the Alliance in AM; rather, Claude hands it over to him unexpectedly after the Kingdom army comes to his aid and fights off the Imperial army invading Derdriu. If Hilda is recruited in AM her monastery dialogue the next month reveals that the Alliance council peacefully agreed to go along with Claude’s decision to cede their territory to the Kingdom. This is incidentally a much better deal than the Alliance gets in either VW or SS, where Claude disappears either at the end of the game or after Gronder and it’s given to Byleth with no further discussion (and the same thing also happens to the Kingdom in both routes). The Empire at the end of the game is in much the same situation as every other antagonist nation in FE, with no one to rule it following the counter-invasion from the protagonist nation(s) because they’re all dead. Similar to Genealogy the picture does open up a bit depending on who’s alive, with Ferdinand, Lorenz, Marianne, etc. governing their respective territories if they’re recruited. Ditto unseen noble heirs like Holst and Caspar’s older brother who are still around to inherit their titles even with Byleth or Dimitri ruling the continent. As far as the Empire is concerned the two of them are as much imperialists as Marth, Seliph, the Renais twins, etc., a far cry from Edelgard in CF invading and conquering two sovereign nations without provocation, predicated in part on the basis that centuries prior they were part of the Empire so it’s acceptable for her to conquer them.

Now, onto Edelgard. You must be aware that Edelgard chose to ally with the Agarthans at Hubert’s suggestion, and she continues to make that choice for nearly a decade without any attempt at checking them despite knowing all the terrible things that they’re getting up to behind the scenes at the monastery and that they enacted earlier without her direct involvement to destabilize the continent and make her conquest easier, like the Tragedy of Duscur and the death of Claude’s uncle. As myself and others have noted attempting to spin her as a helpless victim of their machinations only makes her look incompetent and terrible in her choice of allies - not just the Agarthans themselves but also known murderers Hubert and Jeritza whom she cannot fully control with one frequently going behind her back and the other openly disobeying her multiple times on the battlefield. This in combination with Hubert’s status as the Manfroy to Edelgard’s Arvis leaves me very much in doubt of the Agarthans being truly eradicated in the postgame. Not only is this unsatisfying for the player, but given Hubert’s use of dark magic and dabbling in the Agarthans’ experiments (plus that he was the one who suggested the alliance in the first place, for all that he grumbles about Thales ordering him around) it’s more likely that he eradicates their leadership and then installs himself at the head of the remaining cult, folding them into his established network of spies and assassins. Hubert is one of my favorite characters in this cast, but he’s anything but trustworthy especially if his primary motivation really is wanting Edelgard to sleep with him when it turns out she never will, not even in their paired ending. In keeping with his status as the pathetic hopeless suitor pining for this game’s headlining waifu despite her overt attraction to the self-insert, sexual frustration is built into his character even if he gets a wife or if he and Ferdinand become the most notorious lovers in Enbarr.

Plus, if you look Edelgard actually does rather than what she says she aligns more with what the Agarthans want than the stated goals of her own propaganda. She completes their genocide of the Nabateans and unifies the continent with Agarthans in positions of great power. On the other hand she doesn’t eradicate the nobility as a whole but only replaces those who would oppose her seizing absolute power, which goes to support that it was the Insurrection of the Seven and not the Agarthan experimentation that truly shaped her worldview and motivations. The stated reasons she wants to destroy the church are provably incorrect - she knows they didn’t create Relics or Crests thanks to secret Imperial knowledge passed down from Wilhelm, and she must know that they aren’t all-powerful as the Empire disbanded the Southern Church completely a century before the events of the game with apparently no pushback from Rhea or anyone else - and one must therefore conclude that she instead targets them because they, like the Imperial nobles she replaces and like Claud e and Dimitri defending their nations, would oppose her solitary rule of the continent. It’s just awfully convenient that this goal also accomplishes the Agarthans’ main goal of killing or driving into hiding all of the remaining dragons. Saying that the war was inevitable because the Agarthans were slinking around setting it up to happen doesn’t absolve Edelgard of the responsibility of choosing to ally with them and playing right into their hands, especially when her conquest only noticeably improves her own situation, and possibly Hubert and Jeritza’s now that they have a license to kill, torture, etc. for an entire continent. All of the other Eagles go on to inherit what they would have inherited anyway, and all the reforms mentioned in the CF endings are the same or better in endings for the other routes only your side didn’t start a war and complete a genocide to bring those about.