#yet he nods in acceptance because he wants Rose to live

[titanic-1997]

Jack Dawson + accepting his fate in Titanic (1997)

After Jack fails to stay on the wooden paneling with Rose, his expression indicates that he's accepted his fate. He knows he is going to die so she can live.

[berryz-writes]

Not yet

Azriel x reader

Summary: Your not ready to tell Azriel's family your mates in fear of them not liking you

note: It's just Az being the standard and the cutest shit ever. Also its pretty short im sorry lovelies <3

"I don't want to. Not yet" I murmured to Azriel, snuggling closer to his warmth. His hands ran up and down my back, sending small shivers down my spine.

"And why is that, sweetheart?" He replied, his voice slightly hoarse from having just woken up, pressing small kisses to my face. I opened my eyes and tried to get used to the light in the room. It was a Saturday, one of the days Azriel was content to just lie in bed with me with no commitments for the rest of the day.

"I just...I don't think they'll like me. I know it's stupid but I don't know them well enough. What if they think I'm using you or don't actually love you? What if they convince you that I'm not good enough?" I waited for him to say something. I didn't usually have anything bad to say against his family but I was never comfortable around new people. Especially if they were such important figures in our court. A slight sigh left his lips "Y/n. Do you really think I'd stop loving you if one of them told me to?...not that they would"

I sat up and tucked my hair behind my ear, his heat suddenly too much. "No but it's not just that. Imagine I say something wrong. I know their your family but their also high lord and lady. What if I say something...I don't know politically wrong? They'll laugh at me and think how in the world are us two mates."

Azriel moved his arm around my waist and pulled me back to lay down on the bed, his hand moving through my hair in a soothing motion. "They will think nothing of the sort because you are perfect. But if it makes you feel better we can wait for as long as you want. Feyre was talking about inviting the wonderful florist tomorrow. Accept her offer and get to know everyone a bit"

I thought about it and slowly nodded my head. "Fine."

Azriel was right because Feyre did invite me the next day.

"Y/n! Oh these are gorgeous! You've outdone yourself" Feyre said admiring the bouquet I had prepared

I smiled and handed her the card with all my business details "Thank you high lady. If anyone asks where you got them from please give them this."

"Feyre, please. No formalities between us"

I nodded my head "Feyre it is then"

She turned her attention to the rest of the shop looking around the flower filled store "You have such a peaceful life. Living amongst flowers and smelling like roses all the time"

I let out a small laugh. Very peaceful. Sometimes a little too peaceful. "I suppose. Although it get's boring at times"

Feyre's eyes lit up in excitement "You should come to dinner tonight! It'll be something different for you and we can get to know each other more"

I thought about what me and Azriel had discussed earlier. Now was the perfect opportunity, to meet his family. "Oh...I don't want to intrude. I don't know-"

She shook her head "Nonsense. Your coming tonight. Everyone will be scrambling over each other to get to know you"

I looked around the store, hoping for a sign as to what I should do. The only sign I could see however was the open sign on the front door.

"Fine. I'll come. Thank you the for the invite high- Feyre"

She beamed and gave me a quick hug, slightly surprising me before walking out with her bouquet of flowers. I sighed. Well I suppose I better go home and change so I looked slightly decent at least.

*Dinner, a few hours later*

Azriel cleared his throat slightly before continuing "Did you want something lov- y/n?"

I paused and clenched my jaw at the slip up. The chatter at the table was luckily loud enough for no one to quiet hear what he was saying. This was the first time I had been happy for Cassian's loud voice. I shook my head "I'll get it myself, thank you" I reached over and picked up the dish, adding a few potatoes to my plate, trying not to gather attention towards us two. Really. Azriel wasn't very good at following instructions. If someone had heard that I don't know what I would have done.

Probably jumped out a window or something.

"Everything alright?" Rhys asked looking over at me first, then Azriel and then me again. I nodded my head quickly and gave him a smile "Fine, everything's fine" Azriel didn't reply merely nodding in agreement too.

I let out a sigh of relief when he turned away and took a sip of his wine. Luckily dinner passed with no other accidents happening. I watched as everyone took their seats in the living room, Feyre and Rhys cuddled up on the couch while the others sprawled here and there, Elain having gone up because of a headache.

Azriel stood half hidden by his shadows in the door way, I could sense him even though I couldn't see him without squinting my eyes.

Come to the kitchen. It's important

His voice echoed in my mind, his deep and low voice making me miss him even though he was just inches away. I got up making an excuse of needing water and walked over to the kitchen, past the dining room where we had just sat. Before I could process what was happening I was against a wall and Azriel's lips were on mine, his shadows cocooning us in a dark and peaceful bubble. He kissed me like he was starving and he couldn't get enough.

We finally pulled apart my hands resting on his chest "Azriel" I warned him, the lust filled look in his eyes ready to devour me. His hands ran up and down my body, my waist, my hips warming each part of me.

"I want to tell them. I want to tell them about my perfect and beautiful mate." He whispered his eyes dark and his hair falling forward onto his forehead. I pushed a strand away "I can't right now. I'm not ready"

I knew even if I shook my head once Azriel would understand. His hopeful expression dropped slightly but his lips remained in a small smile "Let me take you home now, sweetheart. I can't live without having you close to me"

I rolled my eyes but smiled all the same "Don't be so dramatic"

He didn't reply, instead tucking a stray piece of hair behind my ear. "We're going" He said finally and winnowed us on the spot. I didn't even get to say goodbye to anyone but all thoughts left me as Azriel looked at me with his devilishly handsome grin.

MASTERLIST

[hanilessa]

before reading please pay attention to the series masterlist, to make sure you have read the previous chapters!

your likes, reblogs and replies are greatly appreciated! i hope you like it, enjoy reading!

HALF AN HOUR FOR LOVE — Childe x F!Reader Chapter 25. Morepesok

You sighed exhaustedly. Carrying a huge suitcase with all your things from the third floor by yourself wasn't the best decision. You already regretted it when you accidentally stepped on your foot, biting your bottom lip in pain. There were really a lot of things, and you needed to take some of it back to Morepesok, so you had no choice. It was hard to imagine how you would have managed this large suitcase if it weren't for…

"Hey, my love." You instantly felt relief when Ajax's strong hands grabbed your suitcase and helped you cope with this weight. The unexpected appearance of your lover made your heart beat faster, and you relaxed when you looked into his eyes. He smiled at you in greeting and, taking the main weight of the suitcase on himself, leaned a little closer to you to leave a greeting kiss on your cheek. His lips touched your skin, and a small whisper reached your ears.

"Why didn't you wait for me? I would have helped you with this."

"Sorry, I couldn't sit still." You admitted honestly, accepting the greeting caresses of your lover. You couldn't wait to go to your hometown after half a year of separation from your family, you really wanted to see your mother and Xiao, so a slight fluttering in the chest and feeling of impatience filled you from within. The corners of your lips slightly rose when Childe gently touched the skin of your lips with his lips.

"It's okay, princess. I want to see the place where you were born and lived before coming to Snezhnaya too." The ginger man smiled at you, and the two of you continued down the stairs. "But you really should have waited for me. The suitcase is very heavy."

Tartaglia's concern knew no bounds, and you nodded timidly, admitting defeat. Perhaps you really should have waited for the man in your apartment. Still, seeing how happy he was to help you made you furtively smile. You and Ajax went outside, and you were greeted by a pleasant and sunny weather. Even though your cheeks were biting from the frost, the clear blue sky and the freshness of the air made you smile.

It reminded you of the day when the two of you were getting ready to go on a business trip. Although at that moment you were more timid, because both of you didn't yet know that you were in love with each other. Now, everything seemed so magical to you, and you felt as if you and Childe were going on a romantic trip together. You blushed slightly at the thought, but you were distracted from your thoughts by the call of your lover, calling you by one of the nicknames he liked to call you.

"We'll stop by my apartment on the way, okay?" Ajax loaded your suitcase into the trunk, closed it, and headed to the driver's seat. You nodded, taking the passenger seat next to him. The man started the engine and the car drove out onto the road. "I need to pick up a few things for our Christmas."

Our Christmas… Coming from his lips, these words sounded so reverently, and you knew that he put a lot of meaning and feelings into it. You couldn't wait to spend this holiday with him, because you really wanted to share happy memories of Christmas with the person you loved more than anything in the world. And you knew that Ajax wanted the same.

"I'm glad that I can finally see my mother…" You said, breaking the short silence. Tartaglia paid his attention to you and, noticing how your brows furrowed, immediately put his hand on yours, trying to calm you down with gentle strokes. You smiled gratefully at him, continuing to speak. "I really missed her and Xiao for half a year."

"You know, when I think about how you live in Snezhnaya all alone, far from your family…" Feeling the tension in the ginger man's voice, you looked at his face, noticing his sad eyes. You really wanted to hug him and comfort him right now, but Childe was busy driving. So you squeezed his hand tighter in yours, letting him feel your support. "I'm getting scared, because if my father wins a court case, I'm sure he will definitely limit my ability to see my brothers and sister."

You knew that Ajax valued his family like no one else, and the thought of being apart from them terrified him. Your voice was trembling, but you still tried to calm your lover.

"Deep breath, Ajax. I'm sure we can get through this together." You, trying not to distract him from driving, gently stroked his cheek. You really wanted to kiss each of his freckles, but not now. Later. You will definitely do it later. The ginger man pressed his cheek to your hand a little closer, basking in the warmth of your skin. "And I'm not all alone in Snezhnaya, I have you."

"Thank you, angel."

Deciding to distract the man and yourself from sad thoughts, you changed the subject and began to tell him about what you wanted to show him in Morepesok. Your mood noticeably improved, and you both hoped that you would be able to forget about your problems at least for these Christmas holidays. Finally, the car drove up to the penthouse where Tartaglia's apartment was located, and you two hurried to head into the warm building.

The man left you in the kitchen, saying that he would quickly pack his things, and disappeared into his bedroom. Leaning on the countertop, you looked out the panoramic window, meeting the rising sun. This view seemed to you the most breathtaking, and you would like to freeze in this moment to observe the opening beauty of the city from a bird's eye view forever. A feeling of happiness, freedom and anticipation accompanied you every time you witnessed this view.

You took an apple from a small bowl and bit into a piece of the juicy fruit, the sour taste pleasantly spreading in your mouth. You really enjoyed visiting Childe's apartment because it was a very comfortable place. The pleasant colors chosen for the interior were pleasing to the eye and made you want to stay here at least a little longer. The window offered a beautiful view, and the furniture was inviting with its softness.

You were pulled out of your thoughts by the sounds of scurrying behind you — Tartaglia was looking for something in the kitchen cupboards. You decided to break the silence.

"I like your apartment." You said, enjoying a delicious apple. Well, you really should have a snack, since you hadn't had breakfast since you woke up. And right now, a ripe green apple seemed like a good escape from your growling stomach. "It's very comfortable here."

The fidgeting behind you suddenly stopped. Not paying attention to it, you continued talking about how relaxed you felt every time you were here with him, until you felt his strong arms wrap around your waist and press you against his chest. In mild surprise, you dropped the half-eaten apple from your hands, but before you could say anything, Ajax's soft whisper touched your ear.

"Do you want this apartment to be ours?" Your heart began to beat faster when you heard his words, and a feeling of excitement and a desperate need to be even closer to him spread inside you. "I think I'll go crazy if I don't see you every morning when I wake up and every night before I fall asleep."

You thought the same thing. Every morning when you woke up in your bedroom, you wanted nothing more than to wake up in Ajax's arms again. And to bask in his caresses before you drifted off to sleep. It was more than just a desire. It was a vital necessity, without which neither of you could function normally.

Childe buried his nose in your shoulder, and his ginger curls tickled the skin on your neck. He took a breath and asked his question again, "Would you like this?"

You gently pulled yourself out of his needy embrace and he let you turn around to face him, to look into his eyes. The way his usually empty and faded eyes sparkled when he looked at you could mean nothing other than that you were the only one who brought light back to Ajax's once-extinguished eyes. And you were ready to do it all the time. So, wrapping your arms around his neck, you smiled sweetly and whispered the next words into Tartaglia's very lips.

"I want this more than anything else in this world."

The kiss you two shared was tart and needy. The ginger man was very happy and grateful to you for agreeing to share this lonely apartment with him, which — he was sure — would be filled with coziness and comfort as soon as you stepped onto its territory as its rightful owner. Every time he returned here after his parents' another quarrels, he felt only pain and devastation. Could it be that today everything had finally changed, and every time he returned to your shared home now, he would feel happy? Ajax wanted to feel it as soon as possible.

Fueled by the feelings that were stirring his heart, Tartaglia completely forgot himself, pressing you to the tabletop, and his lips moved to your neck, tracing a small path of kisses. The feeling of excitement filled your insides, and you bit your lip, your fingers tangled in his ginger hair. The man's touches were so gentle that you thought you could lose your mind from the feeling of pleasure, but common sense reminded you that the two of you needed to hurry and continue your trip to Morepesok. Melting, you weakly grabbed the fabric of his hoody.

"A-Ajax, wait..." You begged reluctantly between heavy breaths. Childe seemed to not hear your request, enjoying the softness and scent of your skin. "We need to hurry if we want to get to Morepesok before it gets dark."

The man's lips immediately stopped kissing your neck, and you couldn't help but witness the cutest sight you had ever seen. He pouted, looking like a frustrated puppy thrown out for soiling master's curtains. The skin of his ears and neck turned red, letting you know that Tartaglia was embarrassed when the two of you had to interrupt such an exciting and intimate moment.

Sometimes the ginger man really hated the idea that time kept moving forward without the ability to stop for even a short period of time so that you two could give yourself completely to each other, not caring about what was happening around you. You smiled and kissed your lover on the cheek to encourage him.

Ajax smiled back at you and said, "Okay, baby, let's hurry up."

You basked in the comfortable leather seat, feeling the pleasant waves of warmth spreading through your body. Heated seats are really cool, you thought. Quiet music was playing in the car, and rare snowflakes were falling outside the window, while the Mercedes continued to drive forward rapidly along the snow-covered highway. The road ran between two dense patches of forest, covered with white snow glaze. A feeling of excitement and anticipation filled your chest as you fidgeted impatiently in your seat, eager to see your native lands. Meanwhile, your conversation continued.

"I think it's orange juice." After a short silence, Childe said, answering your question. He made a thoughtful face. "I like the sour taste that leaves a sweet aftertaste."

You nodded in agreement, humming. Sometimes the two of you played this little game to get to know each other better. One of you would ask a question in turn, and the other would answer. And now, so that the long trip wouldn't seem too exhausting, you and the ginger man decided to play this game again. Memorizing everything your lover liked, you made a note in your head about what you could please him with in the future.

"What kind of juice do you like?" His question was logically consistent, and you thoughtfully put your index finger to your lips. Ajax chuckled when, continuing to look ahead at the road, he noticed out of the corner of his eye how funny and cute your eyebrows were furrowed. Was that really a difficult question?

"I can't decide between apple juice and cherry juice... Both of these taste are very pleasant, and I like this sour aftertaste." You frowned when you voiced your thoughts. Indeed, sometimes it was so difficult to choose between two things, so you preferred to voice both options. Watching you, Tartaglia chuckled again.

"So funny."

You blushed slightly, but giggled too. "Now it's your turn to ask a question."

"Hm..." Childe pretended to be thoughtful to make you laugh — which he did quite easily — and then finally asked you. "What's your favorite movie genre?"

"Oh, it's simple!" You said contentedly, clapping your hands. "I love action movies!"

The ginger man raised an eyebrow with a smile, not at all surprised, "I think that's in your repertoire."

"And what about you?" You tilted your head questioningly, noticing how the sun was gradually starting to disappear behind the horizon and the air was getting colder, which was noticeable even in the fully warmed up car. Familiar landscapes and plains began to flash outside the window. You smiled happily when a welcoming stele with the inscription "Welcome to Morepesok" began to appear in the distance.

"You'll be surprised, but as a child, I really liked watching melodramas with my mother." Ajax chuckled when you raised your eyebrow in surprise. "Every time she turned on the TV, I would sit on her lap and watch each episode of the next romantic-tearful series with interest." He switched a few buttons on the gearbox, continuing to talk, "I know, I know, it's not my style. But I liked it."

"I think it's very cute." You said and placed your hand on Ajax's hand, smiling. Tartaglia smiled back at you.

The rest of the trip was spent in pacified conversations, quiet laughter and sweet teasing. When the car finally pulled into the town, you looked out the window with excitement, trying to find out what could have changed here while you were gone. To your surprise, everything was mostly the same, except that now the ground was covered in white cold snow, unlike when you left for Snezhnaya. An unexpected melancholy filled your heart.

The outline of your house, visible in the distance, brought back many memories, and it seemed to you that, looking out the car window, you were watching a movie about your childhood, when with each glance here and there, dear moments and memories appeared in your head. Childe watched you with a smile — he was really interested in seeing the town where you were born, but most of all, he liked seeing you smiling happily.

"Aren't you tired?" You asked the man when the two of you finally got out of the car in front of your house. You were worried because he only took a break from driving once, when you two stopped at a roadside cafe to get a bite to eat. "We can go straight to rest if you want. I think mom won't mind if I introduce you to each other tomorrow."

"It's okay, princess. I'm not tired." The ginger man quickly reassured you and, thanking you for your concern, left a small kiss on your cheek.

Some doubt and worry still remained in your chest, but you nodded and smiled. The two of you had plenty of time to rest. You took your lover's hand and led him after you, towards the house.

"I can't wait to surprise mom and Xiao. I didn't tell them when I was coming, so I'm sure they'll be very happy and surprised." You giggled. "Especially Xiao."

"I think your brother doesn't like me..." The man's unexpected words made you stop halfway to the house, and you looked at his face with worry. Ajax looked confused and timid, this sight was truly rare.

"Why do you think that?"

"Well, hm..." The ginger man hesitated slightly under your gaze and ran his hand through his hair. It was awkward, but he still answered you. "I think I didn't make the best impression on him. He was so sullen when he looked at me the last time we met… Hey, why are you laughing?.."

The embarrassment on the man's face made you continue to laugh, and through the tears of laughter you replied, "Come on! Xiao is always like this." And more tenderly you continued, "I know that he's truly grateful to you for helping us with that situation at the Academy. He just needs to get to know you better, and I'm sure he will be able to see in you what I see."

Tartaglia's heart began to beat faster at your words, so he gently grabbed your frozen hand and kissed the back of your hand, warming you with his hot breath.

"Thank you, angel."

The cold wind continued to blow mercilessly on your bodies, so you and Childe unanimously decided to finally quickly enter the warm house. You held his hand, pulling him along with you closer to the entrance of the house. The man allowed you to lead him with a smile. The wooden door of the house was almost within your reach.

"You'll see, you two will get along quickl..." Holding Ajax's hand, you were about to open the door, but your sentence was left unfinished when the door suddenly opened, and you came face to face with the man. Your eyes instantly widened when you met his bright green eyes. His blond hair casually fell over his face. The man's eyes also opened wide when he saw you. And a moment later, both of you joyfully exclaimed.

"Y/n!" A joyful smile appeared on the blond man's face.

"Thoma!" You looked at the green-eyed man excitedly, and you felt like you were back in your childhood. There were so many thoughts and questions you wanted to ask him, and you couldn't focus on one thing. "What brought you here? You finally came back from college?"

Ajax, standing next to you, felt an unpleasant feeling start to appear somewhere deep in his chest. His blue eyes were carefully watching the man you were talking to.

"I came to see your mother and Xiao, I brought them some of my mom's signature buns!" Thoma raised his right hand, in which he held an empty wicker basket. He smiled. "Your mother said that you went to live and work in Snezhnaya, so I didn't expect to see you here. But now that I've met you, I can confidently say that this day has become much better."

"I'm happy about this meeting too, Thoma! And I have much to tell you! But first..." You turned to your hitherto silent lover, and smiled when Childe caught your gaze and smiled back. "Allow me to introduce you Ajax, my lover."

Your lover. A proud smile appeared on Tartaglia's lips as he looked dispassionately into the other man's eyes. Their gazes met, like two predators ready to pounce on each other in the heat of battle. The green-eyed man, as if mocking Childe, raised an eyebrow derisively. Irritation bubbled in the ginger man's chest, but for your sake he tried to calm his displeasure and smiled at the stranger as amiably as he could in this situation.

"Ajax, this is my childhood friend Thoma." You pointed to the blond, who also smiled and extended his hand to the ginger man in a welcoming gesture for a handshake.

Childe reluctantly extended his hand in return, and the men, hiding their mutual irritation, shook hands, causing a smile to appear on your face. As soon as the handshake stopped, Ajax hurried to put his arm around your waist, and said to Thoma in a sickeningly sweet voice.

"I'm glad to meet you." Tartaglia's blue eyes were filled with a storm hurricane as he looked at your friend.

"Me too." And both men knew they were lying.

"Let's not stand in the cold! Let's go inside, and you can tell us everything, Thoma." You seemed oblivious to the oppressive atmosphere hanging over the two men like thundercloud, so your mood was upbeat, and it seemed you were genuinely glad to meet an old friend. So, despite his irritation, Ajax smiled, glad that you were happy.

"Sure, Y/n! Let's not stand on the threshold of the house." Thoma agreed and moved away from the door, letting you and your lover into the warm house.

"Ladies first, princess." Tartaglia gallantly let you go ahead, smiling at you, and after you entered the warmth of the house, his blue eyes sparkled unkindly when he noticed the way Thoma looked after you. Childe grinned, showing his self-confidence with his whole appearance. He could handle this. There were no other options. This should have been ridiculously easy.

It was annoying as hell. And not easy at all. Especially when Childe wasn't the man who made you laugh and smile with the smile that was currently shining on your face. The ringing trill of your laughter filled the modest living room of your house, when Thoma told you another funny story from his college life. And Ajax couldn't help but hold you tightly to his body, sitting next to you on the couch. Your back rested on his chest, and at least this fact gave him a sense of some calm. The ginger man felt out of place in the company of two people who were old friends. He had no opportunity to maintain a conversation, as well as no opportunity to draw your attention to himself again. This is the only thing he wanted right now.

But in some way, the fact that he remained on the sidelines gave him some advantage. He could calmly study the blond man sitting in front of you two. Childe's blue eyes were carefully watching every movement, every facial expression on Thoma's face, and the ginger man admitted with irritation that Thoma could compete with him in beauty. Ajax could clearly see what feelings and emotions were splashing in the green eyes in front of him when the blond looked at you. And this could mean nothing other than that Thoma has crush on you. But you seemed not to notice it at all, mistaking his romantic signs of attention for friendly communication.

"It's in your repertoire!" You said through laughter when the blond finished his story. Thoma's eyes shone when he was able to witness your positive reaction. But Childe could clearly see how irritation filled Thoma's green eyes when he saw how you pressed yourself closer to Ajax. A triumphant smile couldn't help but appear on Tartaglia's face.

"Was there something in Snezhnaya that you liked the most?" The green-eyed man asked, making you think. But your answer didn't take long to come.

"You should definitely visit the amusement park, it's really great!" You spoke enthusiastically, and the ginger man was very glad that the situation with the amusement park in the past no longer bothered you. After all, you remembered this place with a smile. "The view of the city from the ferris wheel is worth it!"

"Sorry for the wait." Your mother came out of the kitchen, carrying a tray with cups filled with flavored tea and sweet buns baked by Thoma's mother. She put the tray on the table and looked with interest in her eyes at the ginger man hugging your waist. You caught her excited look, realizing that you couldn't avoid questions. Your cheeks took on a red tint, foreshadowing an embarrassing conversation.

The woman sat down on the couch next to Xiao, who had been silent until now and was reading a book, half-listening to your conversations. Your mother smiled kindly and spoke.

"Well, my dear, it seems the time has come to tell me about the ginger young man who came to see you," She made air quotes with her fingers. "Just to pick up some documents."

"Mom!" You exclaimed embarrassedly, glancing at your lover out of the corner of your eye. His eyebrow arched teasingly, and his lips spread into a smug smile — damn, he found a new, wonderful excuse to tease you later.

The woman giggled and spoke to Childe, "Mister Tartaglia, forgive these humble treats. If I had known you were coming, I would have tried to cook something more hearty."

"Just call me Ajax, ma'am." You rolled your eyes as Tartaglia turned on his signature charm, but you couldn't deny the fact that you were one of the many who were swayed by his charm with one hundred percent success. You blushed. "Don't worry about it, Y/n and I had a big lunch on the way here."

"Okay, Ajax." Your mother nodded and smiled brightly as Xiao and Thoma reached for the buns from a tray, and you took two cups of tea, handing one to your lover. The pleasant, warm liquid went down your throat and warmed your body, which had grown cold during the trip. "What do you do?"

"I'm the owner of the company your daughter works for." A smug smile appeared on Childe's lips when he caught Thoma's scrutinizing look. Ajax's blue eyes were filled with pride, screaming loudly: can you reach my level? The green-eyed man looked back at him impassively.

Your mother didn't seem surprised by the ginger man's answer at all.

"Xiao told me that you helped him a lot with his entrance exams to the Academy." The woman turned her attention to her son and stroked his head. Your brother only snorted in embarrassment, trying to pretend that he wasn't interested in the conversation, although you saw that he was listening to your conversation, distracted from reading a book. "Please accept my sincere gratitude."

"No need to thank." Ajax said and when his gaze stopped on you again, his voice was filled with seriousness. "I consider it my duty to help those I love and whom I allowed to penetrate deep into my heart. I couldn't leave my lover's brother alone with this trouble."

Your breathing has become faster and your heart beat several times faster when the words of your lover reached your ears. An exciting thought echoed somewhere deep inside your mind. Was he already in love then? Instantly, your only desire was to hug Tartaglia tighter and stay in his arms forever. And at that very moment, you felt his hand press your body tighter to his. Sometimes it seemed to you that he understood you on some other level, known only to the two of you. As you understood him.

"Well, I think you're very lucky to have Ajax, my dear." The woman smiled caringly. You nodded, unable to say anything, because you were in a sweet daze from how much you loved Childe.

All of you still talked for a long time about everything that you hadn't been able to talk about on the phone, and this evening was filled with pleasant conversations and sweet tea with delicious buns. As the conversation continued, you and Tartaglia began to notice that you both felt very tired, so it was jointly decided to continue the conversation tomorrow.

You covered your mouth with your hand and yawned widely, waiting while Thoma put on his outerwear.

"Then see you later?" Finishing buttoning his winter coat, the blond asked with a smile.

"Sure, I was planning on walking around the town with Ajax, we'd be happy if you joined us." You nodded.

"That would be great." Thoma chuckled, losing some of his enthusiasm.

"Tell your mom I said hi!" He smiled at you and nodded.

When the entrance door finally closed behind the green-eyed man, you felt strong arms wrap around your waist, pulling you closer to hard chest. Tartaglia laid his head on your shoulder, asking in a hoarse voice.

"Why did you lie to him, angel? We both know I won't be happy with his presence." A shiver ran through your body as his breath touched your skin. You tried to hide your excitement by frowning, but Ajax knew very well the effect his actions had on you. "It's not good to lie."

"You're acting like a child." Ignoring his words, you snorted.

"Come on, baby, you should feel sorry for me." The man whined. "I'm so tired, and then there's this guy... I'm upset, you know."

You raised an eyebrow and chuckled, "I remember someone telling me that he wasn't tired at all."

"Just give me my well-deserved hugs, please." He looked absolutely adorable, so you couldn't tease him for long and agreed, taking his hand.

"Okay, let's go to my room." You led him to the second floor of your house.

When you opened the door of your childhood bedroom, memories came flooding back. Everything was exactly the same as it was the last time you saw your room. The bed, standing against the wall, was made up with your favorite bedspread. Stacks of books were here and there, and because of this, your room looked more like a library than a bedroom. Plush toys were waiting for you in the same place where you once left it. The curtains were tightly drawn, so you hurried to turn on the night light. Small bright stars danced on the ceiling.

"Okay, come he..." You didn't have time to finish your sentence, because Ajax suddenly grabbed you by the waist and pulled you along with him onto your soft bed, not forgetting to slam the front door of the room before that.

The ginger man buried his nose in your belly and, pressing you closer to himself, curled up on your bed. A sigh of surprise escaped your lips when you felt Tartaglia's hot breath through the fabric of your clothes. He allowed himself to slide his hands slightly under your clothes. After a few moments, your breathing finally calmed down, and you felt the long-awaited relaxation. You were surprised at how assertive your lover was — today he was unusually clingy. However, you didn't mind, measuredly running your fingers through his ginger curls, listening to his purring sounds and looking at the stars dancing on the ceiling. You both deserved a good rest.

— taglist: @httpmitsuya @gojoandelsalovechilde @duckyyyx @i-x4o @chishiyawifesworld @ajaxstar @kiryoutann @xiaosonlybeloved @aloveablechaos @obervation-subject-753 @beyaaaafr @silverbladexyz @funicidals @simpfully-heartbroken @r0ttenhearts @cocoanvt @5sausefandom @yevene @hamsuigok @stxwpid @childeismylove @chickoritasy @randomhumans-blog @nxwiqv @kiokiee @lillunna @pookiebearcave @shanieveh

[epinebleue]

for the rest of our lives | jung jaehyun

not every little girl dreams of being Queen one day.

pairing: prince!jung jaehyun x princess!reader (female)

genre: royalty!au, angst, fluff (but you’ll miss it if you blink).

warnings: heavy depiction of anxiety.

author’s note: for the rest of our lives was one of the fics that marked my beginning as a tumblr writer, so starting this new but familiar journey with it feels just right.

listen to: hush by everglow (you’ll see that i’ve introduced quotes (in pink) from the song in the story).

The red roses are growing. 

Spring has arrived earlier this year. The garden is splashed with pink, peach, and orange flowers that can be observed from the terrace of your room. The air is chilly, but not cruel like that of winter. It’s refreshing, it smells like a new start. Maybe that’s the reason why your mother insisted on celebrating the wedding in April. 

Standing on the terrace, you follow your father’s figure. He’s walking down the pebble path; his crown, made of gold and rubies, shines under the sun. Even from the heights, you catch the smile hidden under his big, black beard. His eyes shine even more than his crown. He’s happy, how couldn’t he? His daughter, his only child, is finally getting married. One step closer to becoming Queen.

Behind him, your mother talks to one of the maids, pointing a graceful finger towards the garden. Two men carry a table, placing it exactly where your mum has asked. She nods, ordering them to go grab the chairs. Jae, your husband-to-be, wanted an outdoor banquet, and it's hard to tell him when he gives you that charming smile. 

Your heart starts to pound faster in your ribcage. Husband-to-be. That’s a serious title. You press your palm against your chest, feeling the silky texture of your nightgown under it. You close your eyes and take a big breath in. Your life doesn’t feel yours anymore, yet, somehow, you’re living it. It’s like a dream you aren’t able to wake up from.

A light knock on your door startles you, but every worry that clouds your mind disappears the moment you hear your favorite voice coming from outside. 

“It’s open, you can come in.” 

Jaehyun is holding a bouquet as if it were his newborn child. It consists of roses, tulips, and baby's breath: a mix of your favorite flowers. You accept it, even if you think you don’t deserve it. You force yourself to look into his eyes, ever so soft. They make you feel better. Jaehyun always makes you feel better. 

“Good morning.” 

“Good morning.” Your tone is playful and so is his smile. “Isn’t it too early for flowers?” 

“Any time is good to give my future wife flowers.” He leans forward to steal a kiss from you. You don’t fight it. “I’m going back home in a few minutes; I’ve got to pick up my grandma for tonight’s dinner.” 

“So, you’re abandoning me.” 

He doesn’t laugh, because you’re not joking. He has a younger brother who could bring Queen Haneul, but Jaehyun is the favorite grandchild, the one who will become King. You understand, in a way, but you wish he had said no for once. He knows how much you hate organizing big events. 

“Don’t be like that.” 

All in all, he knows you can’t stay angry at him, so his smile doesn’t disappear. Even his eyes are smiling, forming half-moons. Forget your father’s crown, Jaehyun’s smile is the shiniest thing you’ve seen today. “I'll be here in no time. You won’t even notice my absence.” 

“I take that as a promise.” 

You tiptoe to kiss him again. It’s not a little peck this time, but a proper kiss. Your lips capture his and you get lost in his arms, which hold your waist. Now, this is a dream you'd like to live in. You wish you could turn it into liquid and pour it into a bottle to take a sip whenever you need to. Here, in Jaehyun’s embrace, you feel safe, you feel happy, you feel free. Or, at least, the illusion of all of it. 

Someone clears their throat, making you break apart with a jump. Jaehyun turns around with a straight back to find your maid. She looks down, avoiding eye contact and trying to hide her rosy cheeks. 

“I’m sorry.”

“No, no, it’s fine.” You turn to Jaehyun. “I’ll see you tonight then.” 

Jaehyun says his goodbyes, pressing his lips to avoid a laugh coming out, and the maid bows to him when he passes by. 

“I’m sorry, princess, really sorry.” She repeats, getting in the room. 

“You’ve got nothing to apologize for, Lami. We should’ve closed the door.” 

Lami is still young, a bit inexperienced, and clumsy. But she’s also genuine and funny. It reminds you of when you were a child. 

Lami makes your bed while you have breakfast, then walks to your closet to choose a dress for you. 

“Would you like to wear yellow today, princess?”

You like yellow, so you agree. Leaving the flowers carefully on the couch, you get up and hop into the bathroom to brush your teeth and have a shower. The yellow dress makes you feel fresh, just like the flowers Jaehyun has gifted you. You sit in front of the dresser, noticing that a sleepless night has taken its toll: the bags under your eyes are huge. 

You grab your hairbrush from the drawer. It's a gift from your late grandfather, who bought it during one of his trips. It’s made of gold and your initials are engraved on it. It’s so old that it’s all scratched, and several sows have fallen. 

“Are you excited?” Lami asks, watching you brush your hair. It’s your favorite moment of the day. The sows against your scalp relax you, and God knows you need it today. “I can’t believe the wedding's tomorrow.” 

Something inside you screams, but you remain silent. The moment has finally come. 

You're getting married tomorrow.  

Everything ends tomorrow.

“Should we move this table a bit to the left?” Your mother asks, authority disguised as a friendly request. The servants nod and move the table under your mother’s hawk gaze. “There, perfect. What do you think, sweetheart?” 

“I think it looks perfect, mother. Everything’s perfect.” 

You walk behind the Queen with arms crossed, pretending you care greatly about the position of the tables and the color of the tablecloths when, in fact, you couldn’t care less. You wish Jaehyun was here. Everything’s easier when he's by your side. 

“I can’t believe it.” Your mother claps. “It feels like yesterday when you met Jae for the first time, doesn't it?” 

The fond memory makes you smile. “I never imagined that I'd marry the boy who spilled his lemonade all over my dress, then tried to make the stain go away with water.” 

“Isn’t it crazy?” 

You can’t stand the proud look that your mother gives you. The fact that you'd be Queen one day was never a secret. A big grin appeared on your face anytime your parents brought up the subject, a grin that hid your true emotions. It was your destiny, and you had learned to accept the life that came with it. 

A life trapped inside an iridescent crystal cage, always able to look out but never allowed to leave.

Jaehyun always keeps his promises.

He shows up earlier than you thought, so he’s the one in charge of welcoming the guests as you get ready. 

Jaehyun’s at the bottom of the stairs as you go down. He doesn’t notice you at first, looking away and bouncing his leg. When his eyes finally find you, the face he puts is priceless. The dress you’re wearing tonight is pale pink, a gift from Jae. You love how it fits you, but you love how Jaehyun looks at you when you wear it more: as if you were the most precious thing in his life, if not the only; as if he would fight wars for you. 

“You look beautiful tonight.” He mutters once you're by his side. 

“Just tonight?” 

Two guards stand in front of the door that leads to the garden, where everything’s ready for your grand entrance. 

Jaehyun offers you his arm, and you don’t hesitate to grab it. You’re so nervous that you think your legs will fail and you’ll fall in front of everyone. As if he read your mind, he whispers so that only you can hear him. 

“I’ve got you.” 

You know he does.

Jaehyun nods at the guards and they open the doors, the clapping of the guests deafening. Both of you wave your hands at them as you make your way towards the main table, where Jaehyun moves the chair for you to sit, and then occupies the seat beside you. 

The dinner goes smoothly. Jaehyun kisses your hand at every opportunity, but you don’t complain. It makes your heart flutter, it makes you forget.

Your father stands up before dessert comes, softly hitting a glass to announce he’s about to talk. He tells a joke that makes everyone laugh before giving a speech that makes your mother cry. You blow him a kiss from your seat, mouthing that you love him. He tells you that he loves you, too. You wonder, would he still love you if you ran away?

Jaehyun rises to his feet with a hand extended in your direction, which you accept. He leads you to the center of the garden, standing in front of you. There's a bow with his hand on his chest that makes you giggle, then you're placing your hand on Jaehyun’s shoulder, looking into his eyes. He grabs your waist, and the orchestra starts to play. The pair of you move around swiftly as if your movements were natural and not the result of months of training with the world's best dancer. 

“Tomorrow by this time we'll be married.”

Your jaw clenches, and your heart stops for a second. 

“I know.” You manage to answer. “It doesn't feel real.” 

“I can’t wait,” Jaehyun whispers. “I can’t wait to make you my wife and form a family. I’ll tell our kids magical stories, stories in which fairies will save princesses and monsters will become good things.” 

Only Jaehyun would make you feel like you deserve something as precious as a family with him. Does wanting to run away make you a bad person? Of course, it does. The only thing you love from this life is him, but it’s not like you can choose. It’s all or nothing, it has always been. Tears that you think he mistakes for those of happiness slide down your cheeks, ruining your makeup.

“You’re like the twinkle star I imagined every day since I was five." You press your face against his chest. He allows your tears to wet his shirt. “I love you, Jaehyun. I love you more than I love myself. You believe me, right?” 

“Of course I do. And I love you, too. I'll always love you, even when I'm grey and wrinkly.” He kisses the top of your head, then hides his face away to whisper in your ear. “No matter what you decide. I promise.”

Jaehyun always keeps his promises.

Your aunt tries to console your weeping mother only to fail miserably because she can’t stop laughing at her crying face. They start bickering, and you’re grateful for not being the main focus. 

You’re standing on top of a big, white stool. Fluttering around you, the maids make sure that everything’s seamless, that nothing’s out of place. The wedding dress is the perfect size, yet you feel trapped in it. You inhale, then exhale. Once, twice, three times, but it doesn’t work. The pressure against your chest doesn’t disappear. 

There’s a mirror in front of you, but you can’t bring yourself to look at your reflection. You wouldn’t recognize the person there. 

“Princess?” Lami calls. She seems to be the only one in the room who sees you, who really sees you. “Are you okay?” 

You nod, forcing a smile. “I’m just nervous.” 

Someone comes in to inform that all the guests are in the church and that the prince has arrived, too. 

It’s time. 

Lami helps you get off the stool. You hold onto her hands as if they were a lifebuoy in the middle of the sea, and you, a shipwreck. Every step you take out of the house and towards the carriage is heavy and hesitant. You get in, glancing at Lami through the window. You press the palm of your hand against the glass, eyes slowly filling up with tears.  

This is a goodbye, but not to Lami. Not to any other than yourself.

The young maid presses her hand right where yours is and nods. 

“It’ll be okay.” 

That’s the last thing you hear before the carriage starts moving.

The way to the church feels endless. The weight in your chest grows and grows, until you think you’ll stop breathing. 

You know you shouldn’t feel this way. You’re marrying the love of your life. That should be enough to ease you, shouldn’t it? The woods advance as the carriage moves. You fantasize about the idea of jumping out of the vehicle and diving into the forest, getting lost in its depths, forever. 

Your dad, dressed in uniform, helps you get out of the car when you arrive. A red carpet covers the way from the carriage to the church’s entrance. You stand at the beginning of it, holding onto your father’s arm with one hand, your white bouquet on the other. 

“You look beautiful.” He says, teary-eyed. “I’m proud of you.” 

The doors open all of a sudden. The wedding march starts to play, so you walk. Better said, your father drags you because there’s no way you feel in control of your body anymore.

The pews are full of family, friends, and strangers with their eyes fixed on you. Yours can only focus on Jaehyun. He’s wearing his uniform as well, and that smile you love so much. But there’s something wrong. Something in his face looks off. You reach the aisle, where your father hugs you and kisses your forehead. He’s crying. You rarely see your father cry. 

You stand next to Jaehyun. The priest talks but you don’t hear a thing. You can’t do this. You thought you could, but you can’t. Jaehyun holds your hand; the murmurs are instant. What a lovely bride, she’s so nervous. What a lovely groom, look how he’s comforting her. 

The memorized vows come out of your mouth easily. You glance at Jaehyun’s shaky hands before looking into his eyes, overflowing with fear. He isn’t scared of forgetting his vows, he’s scared of losing you. 

“Do you, Jaehyun, take this woman to be your wedded wife?” 

Jaehyun responds right away. “I do.” 

“Do you, Y/N, take this man to be your wedded husband?” 

The question feels like a death sentence. 

You love him, you love him so much that it breaks your heart. You want to beg him to run away with you, but he'd never do that. It would mean leaving his kingdom behind, and he loves his kingdom as much as he loves you. Forcing him to choose would be a selfish move.

But again, condemning yourself to a life that won’t make you happy would also be selfish. Leaving Jaehyun will break your heart, but you're not sure if you can die from a broken heart. Being Queen, however, will certainly kill you.

This isn’t the life you want. You’ve always known. Jaehyun has always known.

Adults want a quick answer, their voices wondering why you’re taking so much time to answer. You try to ignore them, but they’ve already made their way through your brain. You’ve already made up your mind, though, their words can’t change your mind. 

“I love you, Jae.” You grab his hands with tears in your eyes and kiss them. “Please, please, forgive me.” 

You turn around and run away. People get up, gasps ricocheting against the walls of this sacred place. There’s a scream that comes from your father's throat, and you swear he’s chasing you. Jaehyun begs him to stop. 

You look back once you reach the door, hesitating. Is this a good idea? A teary-eyed Jaehyun nods, handing you your confidence back. You open the door and make your way towards the woods. 

The dress hooks on the branches that you have to fight against to make your way through the forest, they scratch your skin. Taking off your heels and throwing them aside, you continue your race. 

You arrive at a clearing, deciding that it’s time to stop now. 

You let your hair loose and check your exposed skin, now red and bloody. 

If you are free then why are you crying? Running away is what you wanted, right? But at what price? Losing your family, losing Jaehyun, losing everything you have ever had. 

The clearing is covered in soft grass and sunlight. Birds chirp in the distance. There’s calm surrounding you but in the ocean that is your soul, you're fighting turmoil. Maybe you should’ve stayed to know how things would've worked out. Maybe Jaehyun would’ve been your rock through it all like he has been all these years.  

You can’t help but wonder. 

Now, with a small collection of wounds, is it too late to turn back?

No reposting or translations allowed.

© epinebleue 2023

[boyfhee]

⋆ POPSICLES · lhs

synopsis · you're cold and heeseung knows the perfect way to warm you up

genre · established relationship ( 1.2k )

notes · we love reposting, pt 2 the sequel !! i have so many fav works from old blog

“who even eats popsicles in winters?” you snicker, letting the flavour conquer your mind along with the cold ice that sends slight shivers down your spine.

“there’s no right or wrong time to eat popsicles,” he replies, and you find it funny. just ten minutes ago, heeseung was scolding you for not carrying a scarf and not having your jacket zipped up when you should be taking care of yourself in this cold weather.

there are times when he doesn’t make any sense. like back when he told you he doesn’t like cats, but you can still spot him having a fun time with the ones living by your street. or when he said he hates writing essays, but stayed up till one in the night to write yours because you weren’t feeling well. if you’re not mistaken, he also told you that he isn’t interested in relationships, only to ask you out just four days later.

you’re damn sure, heeseung doesn’t make any sense, but neither does love.

“if i get sick, i’m blaming you.” you speak up, a faint laughter falling off his lips before his eyes settle on your satisfied grimace as you devour on the delicacy.

“for someone who’s against eating popsicles in winters, you sure are enjoying it a lot, ” he holds back a laugh. “

“i’m doing it so that you don’t feel bad,” he laughs, saying something along the lines of ‘thanks, i’m honoured,’ before you both break into giggles. suddenly, the weather doesn’t seem as cold anymore. well, it has always been like this. heeseung has always been warm, literally and figuratively— and it’s something he takes pride in. just like now, his hand is wrapped around yours as an excuse to keep you warm when you know very well that he just wants to hold your hands and relive the feeling of your fingers intertwined in his’ over and over again.

and as much as you appreciate his ‘concern,’ heeseung uses that excuse a little too much.

because when he stops in his tracks, looking at you with a soft yet mischievous gaze, your heart speeds up a little as if you’re about to run for your life. and when heeseung takes a step towards you, inching closer to your lips before capturing them with his, the time ceases to exist, the minutes hanging like autumn frost on rose petals.

and you just look at him with a love-struck gaze, a question floating in your eyes; however you don’t voice the mess that your thoughts are. you don’t need to, he knows about them already.

“well, your lips looked cold, so I thought i could warm them up.” he clarifies as he continues on his path once again as if nothing happened. as if he didn’t just kiss you in the middle of the street, on a freezing winter night, and even though you both have the same flavour of popsicles, you can swear cherry never tasted so good before.

“you’re not helping, hee. i’m still cold.” you roll your eyes, trying to play it cool because if he can pretend nothing happened, you can too. ( and you both know it’s childish but one of you cares enough about it )

“is that so?” this time, he didn't wait.

instead, heeseung simply snakes his free arm around your waist, pulling you closer into a kiss, again. it feels euphoric the way his lips move in synchrony with yours, fitting like puzzle pieces. a faint gasp escaping your mouth that dissolves immediately into your breaths mingling together.

he pulls back, much to your disappointment, looking at you with love sick eyes and dust of pink sprinkled on his cheeks. “are you still cold?”

you press your lips into a thin line, nodding in acceptance. “maybe if you kiss me again, i won't be cold anymore.” and once again, his lips land on yours, your cheeks heating up a little as you smile in between.

the popsicles are long forgotten in your hands.

[bri1234]

Ever After

Book: The Cursed Heart 2

Pairing: M!Kieran x F!MC

Word count: 2.4K sorry

Rating: Teen, light fluff

Summary: What if… Kieran gave up his immortality to be with Ella until the end?

Warning: There are spoilers in here.

A/N: This is the first fanfic I’ve ever posted. Please be kind. I’m very new to writing things like this and am unsure if I'm doing any of it right, but I wanted to explore Kieran giving up his immortality and some other things that were heavily teased in book 2 but never happened! Kieran giving up his immortality doesn’t happen in my headcanon, which I have yet to write anything about lol, it's just more of a what if :)

Also, this is my submission for the International Fairy Day event, with the prompt "Reading a Fairytale to the children."

Tagging: @choicescommunityevents @choicesficwriterscreations

“Once upon a time, there lived a young prince who was cursed by an evil fairy to be a beast until he found true love.

He lived alone in his castle with only a few servants for several years. Not many dared to visit because of his beastly appearance.

But one day, a man entered the castle. The Beast did not know this man, but watched him in the shadows.

The man made his way through the castle and eventually found the Beast's most prized possession, a rose. But this was not just any ordinary rose. As he neared his twenty-first birthday, the petals had started to wilt off faster. Every time one fell, he had less and less time to find true his love.

The man went to take it, for he had planned to bring it to his daughter as a gift. He promised her he would bring something back. But the Beast stopped him, and held him captive for attempting to steal.

The man, terrified by the hideous creature, asked to bargain with the Beast, claiming that he needed to get home to his daughter. The Beast told the man that he would return home and send his daughter to the castle, for she would be taking his place. The Beast ensured him that she would be well taken care of. The man, feeling as if he had no other option, agreed. He made the journey home to his daughter.

When he arrived, he told her what had happened. At first, she refused to leave. But eventually, she decided that she had to go, fearing what the Beast might do if she didn’t.

She made the journey, leaving her father and heading to the gloomy castle she had only seen in passing.

When she arrived, the Beast greeted her. He was shocked by her beauty, and she was scared by his beastly appearance.

At first, they both despised each other. But as time went on, the Beast slowly grew fond of Beauty, as he nicknamed her in his head. And Beauty had slowly grown fond of him. She realized that appearances do not make up who you are, but it is who you are within.

Despite his newfound feelings towards her, the Beast had kept it a secret that his time was almost up. Pushing this aside, he decided to let her go back to her father. He could see how much she missed him as each day passed.

Beauty was overtaken with joy at first. She had missed her father dearly, but also didn’t want to leave the Beast. So, she told him that she would return home, but promised to visit him soon. The Beast nodded, and watched as she left, heading towards her village. He had accepted his fate, and was happy that he was granted one last moment with her before the last petal fell.

Beauty had made it home safely, ignoring the pang in her heart of leaving the Beast. Her father was so happy she was home, and safe at that. She spent the next several hours retelling all of her time with the creature. But as she continued explaining it to her father, that same pang in her chest continued to grow. She had realized at that very moment that she had loved him, and felt the need to tell him immediately. With that, she told her father that she needed to go and left without explanation.

When she arrived at the castle, she found the Beast near his precious rose on death's door. He had told her of the curse, just not the extent of it.

Beauty, now understanding, confessed her love for him during his final moments.

When she watched his eyes close, she believed he was gone. As tears fell down her face while holding the Beast in her arms, she felt movement. Looking down, she found the Beast, who was very much alive, changing back into his princely form. For Beauty had just broken his curse.

Now returned to his former self, Beauty and the prince lived happily ever–”

All of a sudden, Kieran was interrupted by a very loud yawn. He looked down at his daughter, who was slowly starting to fall asleep in his lap.

“Daddy, why does that story sound so familiar?” Eve asked him with her face scrunched, gears turning in that pretty little head of hers as she tried to fight off sleep. She’s heard a story like this one before, she just can’t quite remember where or who.

Kieran was about to respond when the door to his daughter’s room opened. He watched as his wife came into view. A smile spread across his face. It took all his restraint to not run over and kiss her senseless. He would have waited for her at the door of their home, but didn’t want to disrupt the bed time process for their little Eve.

“Mama!” Eve squealed as she jumped out of Kieran’s lap.

“There’s my sweet angel,” Ella said smiling as she bent down to scoop her off the ground. Eve clung to her mother’s chest.

After a minute of hugging her mother, little Eve pulled back to look at her face. She put both of her tiny hands on her mother's cheeks.

“You are unharmed?” She said with a serious look on her face, her big eyes pouring into Ella’s. Both Kieran and her laughed.

“You, my dear, are just like your father,” Ella said with a smile as she tickled her little girl. Eve let out delighted giggles as she squirmed in her mother’s arms.

Kieran, who was sitting on the edge of Eve’s tiny bed, watched the interaction between his wife and daughter fondly, heart swelling with love. Eve was a spinning image of Ella, just with his dark eyes and wicked smile. Despite being a changeling, she looked completely mortal. He can only believe that it’s because he’s mortal now, and for that reason, she looks completely mortal as well. He then stood up and within two strides, he was right at his wife’s side.

“You are unharmed though?” He asked with the same serious face their daughter had.

Ella used her free hand to cup her husband’s cheek. “I am unharmed, my love.”

Kieran smiled as he put his hand over hers and laced his fingers through. To him, she had only been gone for three days and yet it felt like forever. But for Ella, it had only been a few hours since time works differently in the Fae realm. Regardless, this was her first time leaving Kieran and their daughter ever.

Kieran pressed a kiss to her temple and then rested his forehead right where he kissed. He whispered in her ear, “We have missed you dearly, beloved.”

Ella, still holding Eve, who within not even a few minutes had fallen asleep on her chest, whispered back, “I have missed you both as well, my love.” She looked up at him with a smile.

Eve started to stir in her arms. “How come she’s so tired?” Ella asked him, chuckling a little. An affectionate smile spread across his face. Kieran whispered back in her ear, “She refused to go to bed until you were home safe. It very much reminded me of you back when we met,” he said with an amused smile.

Ella swatted him playfully, but he caught her hand and brought it to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to her knuckles. “I’m not even back for ten minutes and you’re already teasing me,” Ella responded, smiling even wider.

“I have three days worth of teasing to make up for. Plus, I know you’re rather fond of my shenanigans.”

Ella muffled her laughter, as her daughter was sleeping in her arms. She carefully carried the sleeping changeling child over to her bed and tucked her in. She bent down and pressed a kiss to her daughter’s head. Kieran, who had made his way next to her, did the same. He whispered, “Sweet dreams, my little gremlin.”

Ella watched the interaction with a smile. Oh how she loved seeing the bond her husband and daughter have grow.

Once Kieran stood up, he reached his hand back to lace with Ella’s and started walking to the door, gently pulling her along. Once at the entrance, Ella quietly shut the door behind them. When she turned around, Kieran was on her within seconds, peppering sweet kisses all over her face. His hands freely roamed her body, soaking up every part of her that he missed over the past three days.

“Kieran!” Ella squealed quietly, laughing as the attack of kisses continued. “I see you were not lying when you said you missed,” she said smiling while affectionately rubbing her nose against his.

The same affectionate smile broke out across Kieran’s face as he rested his forehead against hers.

“I could never lie to you, my love. Besides, every second I cannot have you in my arms is a time when I miss you,” Kieran responded as he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close.

Ever since he had given up his magic, he has only worried for Ella more because he no longer can protect her like he used to. But Ella constantly reminds him how she has taken care of herself longer than she has known him and is still in one piece.

Ella had to travel into the Fae realm to visit Longclaw, who had requested her help with healing a group of Fae that received some nasty iron wounds. Kieran and Eve were supposed to travel with her, but Eve had woken up with a cold the morning before they were going to start their journey. After a very long discussion of what was best, Ella had convinced Kieran that she’ll go by herself and he’ll stay and take care of their daughter.

So, that is exactly what happened. Kieran has lived without magic for six human years, and within that time, he has caught a cold and cared for both Ella and his daughter when they were sick. And after watching Ella for years, he’s learned to adapt to the mortal healing ways.

After a minute of being in each other's embrace, Kieran pulled away to lead her down the hallway to the stairs. As they walked down the steps, Kieran spoke. “So tell me, how was Longclaw? Did you see Oleander at all? How are they? Do you know–”

As Kieran reached the floor, Ella stayed on the first step so she was almost at his height. She pulled him around so that he was directly in front and facing her. She gently put a finger to his lips.

“Everyone is doing well and are planning on visiting us soon. Jack said he’ll be here in a day or so,” Ella said with a smile as she removed her finger from his lips and wrapped both of her arms around his shoulders. Kieran smiled, as he was happy that everyone was alright and that his brother would be here soon.

He brought both of his arms around her waist. “I’m glad everyone is alright,” he said, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

Despite being mortal for six years, it still feels strange to him not knowing if those he knows well in the Fae realm are safe. When he was Night Prince, he could rest easy knowing that everyone he loved was under one roof, his home. But at the time though, that was just Longclaw and Sir Monty. So much has changed since he met Ella.

Kieran would confide these thoughts in her, and Ella would often ask if he regretted his decision to become mortal. Kieran would immediately say no, for he would rather give up his immortality than live an infinite life not by her side. He would rather grow old with her than watch as the inevitable grew closer for her, but not for him.

“I’m also glad,” Kieran continued as he scooped her off the stairs, carrying her bridal style, “that you are home and our little Eve is doing better.”

“She seemed more like herself,” Ella added as he carried her into the kitchen and placed her on the counter so her legs were dangling off.

Kieran chuckled as he leaned against the counter, both of his hands planted on either side of her. “She’s been practically bouncing off the walls all day waiting for you to come home. Around lunchtime she asked me when you were going to be home just about every minute, and then she asked if we could play dress up with all the dresses Oleander made for her.”

A huge smile spread across her face at her husband retelling his day to her. She was just about to ask if he agreed when he quickly said, “Don’t even ask me what she had me wearing. I swear she makes everything mismatched on purpose.”

Ella’s delighted laughter rang through the kitchen. Kieran couldn’t help but smile as they both started laughing at their daughter's shenanigans. “I would have loved to see that,” Ella said, still giggling from imagining the chaoticness of Kieran’s day with their little Eve running about.

Once both of their laughter died down, Kieran rested his forehead against hers, closing his eyes and feeling more at peace than he has ever felt. For once in his life, he finally feels like he can breathe, with no expectations of ruling or dealing with power-hungry Fae who only wished that he were dead. Or even spending endless nights flying around as a beast. He just feels, well, happy. His Fae life has been over for six years, and while that life gave him Ella, he wouldn’t trade his six years of being mortal for anything.

Now this does not mean that Kieran’s going to forget his time as Fae. No. He looks forward to sharing those stories with Eve. Whether it's a bedtime story he was told as a child that he spun to fit more of Ella and his story or Eve asking about his past when she’s older. He couldn’t wait to share all of it. Well, most of it anyway. Maybe there are even a few things Ella doesn’t know. Maybe he can surprise her as well.

Thank you for sticking around if you read all of this! Something I love about TCH is how it’s somewhat similar to Beauty and the Beast, so I wanted to have Kieran retell the fairytale. I kind of put my own spin on it and combined the Disney movie with one of the many versions of the story I found here!

[lovejosephquinn]

Okay so someone requested sub!Joe x reader and the way she'd want to make him basically cry fucking him and the damn ask disappeared after I tried to post it, so I've had to write as a normal post. Here you go anon, if you see this I hope this fulfils your fantasies 👀💀🖤

Also tagging @harrys-four-nipples especially at request because she rose from the dead especially for this shit

It's sincerely difficult when you're attracted to your best friend and live in the same flat together and the feeling is mutual, yet neither of you are wanting to go that step further and tell each you're actually into one another. The time you spent together was no more than fun and when and if you went back home together empty handed without a one night stand after your infamous tradition of pub Friday; you'd use each other as a way to hook up and take the sexual frustration out. It'd always end in Joe dominating you, choking you tight whilst he fucked his cock into your cunt, bringing you to tears the way his length would rail you in his bed. You're not sure how this started, nor bothered by the way it did, because it was always the best damn sex either of you ever had.

This one particular night saw you not entirely phased on looking for 'victims' to take back to your flat, rather eyes on each other, clinking your pints together and settling on a deal. "You sure you're not bothered?" Joe muttered.

"About what?" you replied.

"Bringing a man home so he can barely make you cum."

"Oh shut up, guys make me-"

"Not like I do." Joe winked.

You rolled your eyes at him, he looked like the cockiest son of a bitch ever, he personally knew this because you told him once when his head was between your legs, crying out that no man had ever made you cum during foreplay, Joe knew it was true just purely by the face you'd make the next morning, grimacing with a quick thumbs down as he smirked at you from the kitchen whilst you saw the man in question out of the front door.

You completely ignored his smug features and continued. "Deal is, whoever downs this pint fastest, gets to dominate the other tonight."

"So we are hooking up tonight." Joe sat back in his chair, fist batting the air.

"You ready Quinn?"

"Ready." You gulped your pint down, Joe didn't bother, he just sat and watched you. You set your glass down onto the table, your eyes flitted between his and the still full pint glass his hand was barely clutching onto.

"Did you hear me right?" You looked in a confused state.

"I did."

"So you want me to dominate?"

"I want to see what you can do Y/N, I want you to fucking defile me."

Your breath hitched, no matter what, Joe was always the dominant one and now he was challenging you from your own deal? Fuck.

"Challenge accepted Joseph." Joe nodded at you, downing his drink minutes after you had and stood up to go replenish your glasses with more alcohol.

Several drinks later, you stumbled the short distance from your local pub and back to your flat, unlocking the door Joe almost fell through losing his balance making you giggle at him. "Come here." Joe uttered, grabbing your hips and pulling you back into him barely seconds after you'd locked the door behind you.

You pulled yourself away from his clutch, making him furrow his brow. Turning round to face him, you pushed his chest forcefully, making him take a few steps back. "I believe we agreed on me dominating you, Mr Quinn." Joe raised his hands in defeat as a gesture of saying do your worst.

You walked off in front of him into his bedroom, Joe followed up behind you like a lost puppy and you quickly made haste at grabbing his hips and pushing him back into the wall. Leaning up onto your tip toes, you crashed your lips onto his, teeth clashing, tongues dancing and your mouths fiercely moving together in unison. You grabbed at his crotch, palming it effectively, making him groan when you added pressure onto your grip. "Now listen to me." You bit down onto his lip, his eyes growing not realising your strength as you held his arm up to the side. "You're going to be a good fucking boy and you're going to lay there and take everything I'm going to give, okay?"

Joe smirked at the way you spoke, you don't know why you did it, but your hand left his now fully erect bulge and lightly slapped him across his cheek. "Okay?" Joe's face fell and nodded at you. "I'm going to be your good boy." Joe replied, falling straight into a submissive state.

You dragged him over to his bed and pushed him down to sit, straddling his waist you unbuttoned his shirt slowly, licking your lips when you saw his delectable chest in the flesh, instantly attacking his neck first, you have his head falling back whimpering sinking your teeth into the thickness of it. "Oh fuck, Y/N." He let out a wild moan when your clothed cunt pressed down against his cock, dry humping him, the zipper flicking against your clit every now and then making you whine. "Yeah you like that?" Joe let out a small mhm, his head falling onto your shoulder when your hips writhed harder.

You pushed him back so he was fully laid down, legs dangling off the edge, pressing down onto his stomach so you could move faster, the wetness of your panties becoming more prominent. You slid off to the side of him, undressing yourself, his eyes watching your every move, chest leaping into the air and back down again, eager to find out where you were going with this.

You fell to your knees, leaning forward to unbutton his trousers, Joe lifted his hips so you could remove them as quickly as you intended too, taking his boxers down with him so he lay completely naked before you. "What's that look for?" Joe questioned, the way you gazed at his cock maliciously had him fearing for whatever you had planned, Joe had never seen you this worked up, you were ready to give him a taste of his own medicine.

You creeped up onto the bed, mounting him completely, he looked down watching the way your tits hung from your chest, huffing a sigh trying to figure out whether it was best or not he kept his hands to himself. "Don't even think about it." You took a hand to his cheeks, clenching them together and bringing his eyes right back up to you. "Wasn't about to." You hovered your face downward so your lips fell against his ear. "Good boy." He shivered at your breath as you spoke out running through him, his cock twitching lightly at the way you praised him, he weirdly was enjoying this more than he thought.

You couldn't help the way your tongue slid from his bottom lip down his jaw, down his neck, his chest, nibbling at his stomach, down his happy trail and stopping right where the tip of his cock laid. Intentionally blowing on it made him grip the sheets, Joe laid staring at the ceiling trying to stop himself from cumming just from the way you teased.

"Please." It was becoming apparent that Joe didn't particularly enjoy being in the submissive side of things in the respect that he had to wait to be given what he needed. "Please what?"

"Please suck my cock love."

"Good boy's don't beg, they wait." You moved so you were kneeling in the same spot you were when Joe took his trousers down, leaning up so you had a hefty space of reaching for him, you lowered your mouth down, tonguing at his balls, the sudden contact making him squirm. "Oh fuck yes." Joe growled. Your mouth took a suck of each side, letting them fall back gracefully as you nibbled onto his sack, covering every inch of it with your teeth. "Shit Y/N, that feels so good."

Your tongue proceeded to work it's way upward, the tip of your muscle dancing straight up his length, your hand now massaging his balls, gripping them every now and then tighter just to see him grimace. "You want it?" you asked nicely, pointing to your mouth.

"But you said-"

"I said. Do. You. Want. It."

"Yes."

You took the head of his cock into your mouth, slurping on it heavily, washing your tongue over the tip, the saltiness of the leakage he'd already presented coating it as you hummed a moan. "You taste so good." Joe groaned at that, he'd told you once in the early days of you hooking up that he found nothing sexier than communicating and from then on in you made you sure you spoke plenty, it was always the last thing he needed to hear before he usually came where he wanted. Joe's hands suddenly came over the back of your head and you swatted your eyes to him immediately, slowly shaking your head, his hands stopping in mid-air once they'd raised back up and going back to their previous position, resting above his head.

You took about half of his length into your mouth, bobbing your head as slowly as you could manage, you wanted to fuck your mouth with his cock so bad, but all in good time. You stroked your tongue along with the movement, your hand moving up to jerk the base of his cock at a steady pace. Your cunt was dripping at the way he moaned your name, desperate for this to go on yet craving so bad for him to be inside of you; you'd keep these thoughts to yourself.

Your eyes rose to look over his features, his lips parted, hips shaking, eager to buck up into you but he refrained from doing so, quite rightly understanding that you were in full control. You loathed this moment, drank every second in watching him submit to you. So you decided to reward him, taking your hand away and taking almost every inch of his thick cock, reaching the depths of your throat and choking down on it. His hips did buck up once but you let that go, too busy concentrating on trying not to regurgitate with your shitty gag reflex. "Y/N, stop, you're going to make me cum." You brought your head back up but immediately slammed his shaft back down your throat again, repeating the process a few more times. His seed accidentally spewed down your throat in a hot minute, his moans borderline pornographic in their wake, you drank the lot and he knew he was in for a spot of bother once you came up for air.

You immediately straddled back onto his waist, your small hand covering what you could of his neck, your fingers pushing inward to grip his at his throat, making him jump slightly, it was safe to assume he wasn't expecting that. "Did I say you could cum?"

"No, I'm sorry I tried to say-"

You moved yourself up so you were sat on his stomach, arching your hand back and immediately began fisting at his cock, jerking wildly making sure that he kept his erection. "You listen to me and you listen good." Joe nodded apprehensively. "I'm going to fucking ride you senseless and you'd better not cum until I say so, got it?"

Joe moaned at the sensitivity and friction that your hand gave his shaft, nodding motionlessly this time, his eyes sparkling at yours apologetically. "Yes."

"Won't believe you until you prove it now, you've been a naughty boy." You moved yourself back, rubbing your cunt over his length and his immediate response was to sit up, he tried to kiss you but you just pushed him back down with all your might. "Stay the fuck down."

You positioned his cock upward, hovering above it and slowly sank downward burying it inside of you. Your walls clenched around his thickness, your head fell back in a state of moans when you felt him stretch you slightly, you'd never get tired of the way he felt and you'd never get tired of the way he made you feel. Fuck you had it bad.

Once fully adjusted. You slowly moved your hips, riding him even too agonisingly unrushed for you, leaning downward you brushed his lips with yours, your foreheads pressing together as you worked him. "I fucking love the way my cock fills your pussy love, feels too good." You bit down onto his bottom lip, pulling it back, your grip had it stinging and then you let go. Catching him off guard, you sat back up, picking up his hands and placing them onto your hips. "Move me, make me cum now." You demanded.

Joe knew the way to do it and he knew exactly the way you liked to be fucked, he was practically an expert in this field, he raised you up and down, bouncing your cunt up to the tip and then slamming you back down again forcefully, you were both hot messes for one another, the way his cock degraded your hole made the knot in your stomach tighten, your cunt dripping your juices downward and leaving a mess on his balls. "Keep doing that, harder." You protested and he answered straight away, his hips bucking upward to meet your bounces, he cried out your name countless amounts. You pushed his hands off of you and thrusted your hips back and fourth, pressing down onto his chest for leverage.

"You fuck my cock so well, you don't know what you do to me Y/N, oh my-" You stopped. He was falling into his pit of doom once more, so close to his orgasm. "No, don't stop-"

"Not until I say." You warned him. Fastening up the pace once more, you leaned downward, putting your weight onto the top half of his body, wrapping your arms around the back of his neck and rocked yourself up and down his cock, the both of you throbbing, sweating and whimpering for your releases.

"Please Y/N, I've been a good boy, please let me cum. I need to cum, baby, let your cunt milk me." Well he'd never called you baby before, shit.

That threw you over the edge, your face fell into the crook of his neck as your orgasm hit you from head to toe, tightening your grip, your walls now caging his length inside of you so it couldn't move, your thighs shuddered at the twitches coming directly from your clit, you were so turned on and it was a long awaited climax, so you deserved to relish in the moment.

You moved your body back, taking his cock with you, lifting yourself onto your feet but kneeling, you bounced freely on top of him, Joe had tears in his eyes from the release he was holding in deep down. "You want to cum Joe?"

"Please. Please- I-I c-can't t-take i-it." That was your key to give him the go ahead, you'd let him suffer long enough.

"Cum for me." Joe gave way as soon as you said it, a gasp for air had his head startling upward, his eyes squeezing shut as he choked out the lengthiest and unholy moan you'd ever heard escape him.

You didn't speak a word whilst you got cleaned up, you returned back to Joe's room who was now grasping at the covers to just lift himself up to climb into bed. "I've been thinking-"

"A dangerous thing to do." You interrupted, making him pout.

"I'm going to let you dominate more often because that was fucking hot." You did a little victory jig, earning a laugh from Joe.

"Well I'm glad you enjoyed it and made the decision to let me. Goodnight Joe." You turned to walk away with a hefty sigh, your heart filled full with confusion about your feelings that had grown in the last couple of hours, even more achier than usual, but the sudden call of your name had you turn right back around.

"Y/N?"

"Yeah?"

"Can we just, I mean I know I never ask this of you, but can we just cuddle tonight?" Your jaw almost dropped to the floor, sure you and Joe had the odd cuddle here and there; but never after sex.

You moved round to the other side of the bed and Joe opened up the sheets for you to get in next to him. You turned to your side and he wrapped his arm over you. Silence fell once more for at least a good 10 minutes, you were almost falling asleep and thought you'd misheard Joe when he nuzzled his face into your hair and whispered. "Fuck, I love you." It didn't feel like the way a friend would say it, the butterflies wouldn't have fluttering their way round your stomach if it was just a friend thing. He meant it exactly the way you thought and he wasn't sure whether or not he meant for you to hear it either but he was very much in love with you.

[masonmiamor]

words and items yet to be filled - - mason mount x reader.

gif is not mine! it’s @canirove gif!

the original post isn’t popping up on the tag so i’m “reposting again”.

this is the link to the first part!

“Are you going to pretend we didn’t have a good time the other night?” asked Mason. His bed hair is in full display wearing a black Nike tracksuit and a pair of sneakers. You stood there in awe, getting deja vu all over again. “No… But what difference does it make?” you said raising an eyebrow and your left hand coming to your hip. He cocks his head to the side and forces a tight smile.

“A huge difference Y/n… You have no idea.”

“Mason, I don't know what else you want from me” you attempt to say calmly, not trying to sound nervous. “I just want to talk, simply talk Y/n. Is that so much to ask for?” his brown eyes plead, desperately just trying to pry you? You knew you shouldn't but reluctantly you nodded, “I don’t know if I'm ready to talk to you. This could go one or two ways Mason, and I'm afraid… I’m afraid to end on a bad note again and that is the last memory and thing I have of you.”

“Let me come inside. And we can just talk, I won't force you to accept anything. I just want to try and amend things. Clear the bad air between us,” Mason promises and you find yourself giving in, how could you refuse this pleading man infront of you? “Okay, but keep in mind I wasn't expecting to have guests over,” you note making him let out a small chuckle but accepting the invite into your flat.

Mason's chest feels heavy and cold as he walks in again after so long. He notes nothing here has changed as much except for new plants and some paintings, including the ones the two of you did while on a beach trip. He finds himself walking around the living room to take any details, he lets out a laugh when he sees the polaroids of your relationship still hung up, concert tickets, the sucker wrappers where he wrote small notes before you started dating, and even the plastic rose that had slight dust on it.

“Along with the necklace you have on, is there a reason why you haven't taken these down?” he asks, you stare at his back feeling caught. “Uhm, no. I guess I forgot to take them down when I packed the rest of your stuff and memory box,” you say. He turns around and flutters his eyebrows confused, “What memory box?”

Again. You feel caught as if you've done something bad. You try to push down the tears and lump in your throat, “I made a memory box after we broke up. It just has small items, letters, photos, the bracelets we got in Portugal, an old CD we found, just some stuff from our happier times when we were together.” You still kept all those things he wanted to ask but didn't because that's just who you were, you kept the small meaningful things with you at all times.

Mason had the urge to see it, wanting to re-live the memories all over again, maybe even for the last time depending on if things don't go as expected. He walks closer to you, and you grow shy and anxious at the serious look on his face, “Can I see it? The memory box?” you nod quickly and dodge to the second bedroom in your flat. While you do that, Mason walks over to the corner again and steals the photo that Ben took after the champion league ceremony. Such a special and memorable night for both of you.

You walk back into the living room seeing him sitting down on the couch, still looking around. “Here we go,” you set down the red box labeled “Y/n and Mason’s Box <3.” He reluctantly removes the lid, but his heart flutters at the stuff inside. He takes out so many pictures and re-reads letters, all while you stood back and let the man you still love go through them. “This hurts one Y/n,” Mason whispers after he read the page where you wrote your ‘Vows to you�� if the one-day marriage did occur.

“I honestly forgot about that one, guess it won't happen, ill get rid of it you-” you try to take the sheet of paper back but he pulls it away from you. “No don’t. Don't get rid of it,” he begs shaking his head. “You envisioned it too? The happy ever afters? The future we would’ve built together?” Mason breaks his own heart by saying.

“Yes… I pictured everything Mase,” you croak feeling your bottom lip quiver. He moves closer to you craving to hug or hold your hand. But before he could, you let go and launched yourself into the familiar muscular body, wrapping your hands around his upper body and hiding your head into the crook of his neck, breathing in the cologne and aftershave. He brings your warm body to his lap, your legs almost straddling him, and his hands find their way home inside your shirt and around your waist.

He hears the pain he caused by the way you sniffle and sob, especially as you've never been the one to cry or show what pain can do to you, it almost felt foreign again to him. All he can think about is you finally in his arms, selfishly never wanting to let go. He rubbed your sides and drew small shapes on your back, while yours remained wrapped around. He wanted to pull you close when he felt you pull back after a while.

“Tell me what I did for you to break up with me. Was I not lovable anymore? Was it something I did, say? Did you just simply fall out of love with me?” you asked wiping the remaining tears away from your face, attempting to compose yourself. His hands still stayed at your sides, “You didn't do a single thing Y/n! And of course, you were and are lovable, I can’t and will never forget what you did for me to bring me to where I am today, only you could do it.”

“I'm trying Mason. I'm trying so hard to move on from us and what we had, but your image constantly appears in my head over and over again, reminding me you're still there. So help me understand mason. We were doing so well, we were happy and stable. Why did you end something so perfect and loving for us?” you cried out.

‘Please don’t move on from me. Don’t move on from us,’ wanted to scream and let out Mason. But he didn’t just stared at you losing his confidence little by little.

Mason let a few tears fall, you had seen him at such vulnerable and down states before but never like this, especially because of you. “I began to compare myself to the people around me, I lost myself once our team began their downfall, it was too many differences to resolve at once, the confrontation scared me and I kept pushing you and everything away because I didn't want to face those challenges. In doing so, I lost you because I began to think I wasn't the person meant for you, I didn't want to hold you back from doing what you loved,” Mason continued, now tugging on the string of his hoodie.

“But you wouldn't have! We could've worked things out! You left so suddenly and expected to be good friends afterwards? The reason I never called or texted back was because I couldn't be friends with someone I deeply love. It was either you were with me or you weren’t. But I wasn't going to make that decision, I could never hold you back from achieving your goals. The number of times I saw photos of you and I wanted to hate you but I couldn't because, at the end of the day, you treated me so well,” you tell him watching as his stare bore down to you.

You could see the pain on his face, his sad eyes, the wrinkles in the outer corner of his eyes, the small vein in his temple popping out, you desperately wanting to be the only one getting rid of it but things weren't like they were and this was the life the two of you created since then. “You don't know how much I’d love to close my eyes and start all over again. There's no way I can forget about you Y/n because it’s you, the woman I love, and the only one who can heal this pain you left inside when you left.”

“I know I fucked up, I live with it because it's me who caused us to be like this, but I can and will change that. We both know deep inside our hearts the passionate love and feeling for each other is still there. The history of two lovers who found their way back to each other,” he says whipping your tears away with the soft pad of his thumb. Your hand goes up and slowly removes it from your face, the feeling of uncertainty coming back, “How do I know you won't leave again? That you do what you did again?”

“You came into my life at such a correct time, and I can't afford to lose you again Y/n. I love you so much to let go of our love that easily and freely. If anything being apart has reminded me of how much you did for me, for us, and I took it for granted sometimes. I was stupid and immature to let you go, listening to others rather than myself who knew deep down what the right thing was,” Mason says interlocking your hands and rubbing his thumbs over your delicate and soft knuckles.

“I promise y/n. I won't leave or lose you again. I can't promise those days where we will have our downs, but I can say that from now on it will be better and have loving days, if you allow me back into your life…” he whispers along your lips after a few moments of stillness, your faces suddenly so close to each other you can see the small scar on his lip and freckles that adorn his skin, the redness on his face, and lashes that touch his cheeks due to his closed eyes.

“You have no idea how good it feels to be back in your embrace Mason. It feels so right and perfect, I almost forgot how your touch leaves a permanent sensation in my skin,” you whisper and surprise the both of you. “I spent almost 9 months without you completely lost and incomplete because I had lost the person who was there to pick me right back up. I can’t deny what I feel because it is so strong and present always, only you have made me feel this way…” you say along his lips watching as he began to breathe in deeper.

This is what you caused him to do…

“I love you Y/n…” he breathes out and closes the small space between you by brushing and locking his lips with yours. He groans at your sweet taste when he kisses you, kissing you slowly yet so passionately it makes your head spin. “Mine, always will be mine,” he growls and pulls you closer by the waist. You gasp and tug at his hair but keep kissing him. You pull away and rest nose to nose seeing him bite his lip with a playful smile on display. “I love you Mason, but please don't break my heart again.”

He holds out his pinky waiting for you to wrap your small one around his, and when you do he declares and seals the promise. Mason knows not everything is yet to be solved but with time and little by little he will prove it to you and demonstrate just exactly how much you mean to him. His chest fills with butterflies when he hears you giggle at his actions which were leaving and plaster kisses all over your face, jaw, and neck.

“God I love you. So beautiful baby…” he compliments causing you to blush. “Stop it, my cheeks hurt from smiling so much,” you say standing up when you feel your legs beginning to tighten and cramp. “Let's bake like old times and then we can head to bed. We have no training tomorrow so I will be able to sleep and make breakfast for you, how does that sound” Mason suggests causing you to stare at him in awe.

“It sounds perfect handsome but, is this actually real? Or a dream?”

“Its very real baby, and get used to it because were forever my MJ,” he says, referring to the spiderman movie. He picks you up causing you to squeal and wrap your legs around his torso, holding onto dear life. He sets you down in the kitchen, watching as you go and look for the required ingredients, after doing so, you tiptoe and give him a chaste kiss, he meets you half way.

He brings you into his chest and dances with you swaying side to side after putting the cookies in the oven. Kissing your temple from time to time and whispering just how much he missed and loves you. You set the table with some glasses of milk and the plate of cookies cheering to your love. Safe to say the cookies were finished in the span of minutes.

After showering and getting ready for bed you gave some clothes for him to sleep. You set the bed and sat down waiting for him to return with some water bottles, knowing the cookies will cause thirst later on in the night. He returns with the two bottles and the red memory box. “I hope we can still add stuff inside here?” he says shyly, his voice filled with nervousness.

“Yes Mase. Anything you want,” you smile at him, and observe when he pulls out the photo from when they won the UCL trophy and places it inside. “When did you-” you say curiously, “I was going to steal it if things went downhill, but since they didn’t… its now inside with other cherished memories we both built together.”

He changes into some plaid pj’s and a tight grey longsleeve that defined his body, his muscles in full view causing you to feel like a innocent schoolgirl again. He lays down and shuts off the lamp, facing you. Mason kisses you fervently once more and brings you closer to his chest, holding the back of your head while he kisses you once more. But you had different plans wanting for him to feel the love. “Lay on my chest, let me rub your back and play with your hair. You deserve well rested sleep.”

“But what about you?”

“I have you back in my arms, that’s all that matters, I sleep better knowing you are…” he wasted no time into laying on your chest snuggling his head closer to your neck and his arm wrapping around your front. He sighs deeply when he feel you small hand guide up and down his back and then play with his har. “Goodnight Mason,” you kiss the top of his head.

“Goodnight beautiful. Sweet dreams.”

[theemporium]

[1.7k] the supernatural life of beacon hills gets in the way of a normal life once again, but stiles is determined to salvage what he can.

.

11:59

The jeep clock was old and it flickered a lot of the time, yet it was never wrong. Despite the cracks in the screen and sometimes if you banged on the dashboard hard enough it would flash, but it was reliable. And this time was no different.

“You good?” 

Your eyes didn’t tear away from the analog clock as the seconds ticked by, even when the voice from the driver seat repeated his question, eyebrows furrowed when you didn’t respond right away. But you didn’t want to look away, not just yet. All you needed were a few more seconds and—

00:00

“Happy Valentine’s Day,” you said as you turned to face your boyfriend in the driver’s seat, a cheesy grin on your lips despite the exhaustion and fatigue that was settled deep into your bones after the night you had.

The late nights shouldn’t surprise you, nor should the late-night calls and chaps on the window to drag you out of bed. It had been well over a year since you found yourself dragged into the supernatural life of Beacon Hills and yet, despite everything, you still found yourself stunned when a late-night trip to a dodgy location in the most haunted town in America leads to some sort of supernatural shift in your lives. 

And yet, every single fucking time, you are there because you’d be damned if you let your friends—your pack—do it alone. 

Tonight was no different. 

You were halfway through your biology homework when you heard knocking on your window, and it took you less than five minutes to get ready and meet Stiles down the street before you zoomed off to god-knows-where as he rambled on about sacrifices and threes and other things you didn’t quite understand. 

The night hadn’t been all that successful in the grand scheme of things, other than leaving you all exhausted for school the next day but that was nothing new. You had all but dragged yourself back to the jeep as you wished the others goodnight, promising to reconvene in the morning to discuss any running theories you may have. 

The date hadn’t even clicked until you were halfway home and your eyes fell on the clock. 

“What?” Stiles asked, eyes blinking slowly as he wrapped his head around what you just said. “Wait, today was Valentine’s?” 

“Today is Valentine’s,” you corrected him as you nodded towards the time displayed on the clock. 

“Wait, but I–” Stiles paused for a moment, realisation dawning on him and he let out a small huff of frustration.

Because this was your first year as a couple spending Valentine’s Day together, and he fucking knew that. Hell, he had been annoying Scott non-stop for the last few weeks for all the plans he had and all the ideas he wanted to go all out for. The boy had even made a mini murder-board-style display to make sure that everything went to plan. 

But once again, the supernatural world of Beacon Hills completely threw him off track and now he was left realising that all his plans meant shit now that the day had creeped up a lot faster than I realised. 

Your eyebrows furrowed together. “Stiles?” 

“I had a whole plan,” he muttered in a quiet voice, seeming genuinely dejected that this day had already not started out the way he had intended. “And you were gonna love it and I had roses and balloons and—”

“Hey,” you called his attention, reaching over to place a hand on his leg when his eyes shifted back to the road. “I don’t need anything fancy, Stiles, I’m happy to just spend it with you.” 

“But it’s our first,” he grumbled. 

“And we will spend many more together,” you reassured him, whilst Stiles tried to ignore the warmth in his chest at your words. “I promise.” 

Stiles stayed silent for a few moments and you gave him the space he needed, knowing he probably just needed a few moments to accept that tonight wasn’t going to be anything romantic or over-the-top like he planned. 

But it was quite the opposite. His brain was running a million miles an hour, ideas wracking through his head as he tried to grasp on something to salvage this night and show you that he wanted to fucking treat his girl right. 

And there was only one part of his original plan that he could still do. 

“Stiles, the exit was–”

“I know.” 

“But then–”

“Just trust me, baby.”

You didn’t say anything for the rest of the ride as Stiles headed towards the preserve, the roads a little bumpy and rocky as he drove through the woods like he knew it like the back of his hands. And considering the amount of time he had spent in these very woods since Scott had been bitten, you wouldn’t even be surprised if that was the case. 

Your gaze only shifted away from him when the car finally stopped, the expanse of a lake laid out in front of you. You didn’t even know Beacon Hills had a lake. 

“I found the place a few years back,” Stiles spoke up, his eyes on you as you took in the sight of the dark water, the sky reflecting down on the surface and the gentle sound of waves lapping against each other. “Not many people come out far enough to find it but…it’s here.” 

“Holy shit,” you murmured under your breath with a soft smile.

“C’mon,” he nodded towards the lake before jumping out the car, giving you little choice but to follow him. 

“What are we doing here?” you asked as you shut the door behind you, pushing your hands into the pockets of your jacket as you followed him towards the edge of the lake. 

“Part thirty-seven of my plan,” Stiles stated simply with a grin as he shrugged off his jacket. 

“You had thirty-seven parts to your plan?” you snorted, amused but not surprised by your boyfriend’s antics. 

“No, of course not,” Stiles said as his grin widened. “I had fifty-two. But thirty-seven was to show my girl my favourite place.” 

“And that requires me stripping?” 

“Shy, baby?” 

“There are easier ways of getting me naked, Stilinski,” you murmured but followed suit as you began to remove your layers of clothing. 

“That was part forty-three, we can do that when we get back to my room.”

You didn’t hold back the laugh that left your lips, or hide the fact your cheeks were warming with a blush (even though you were pretty sure it was too dark for him to even see it). You just rolled your eyes at your boys, working to undo the button of your jeans as you wiggled out of them before you were in nothing but your underwear, your clothes neatly folded beside you on the banks of the lake. 

“Stiles, it’s gonna be freezing,” you huffed out as you wrapped your arms around yourself, eyeing the water that lapped back and forth, just inches away from your toes. 

“It’ll be fine,” Stiles assured you, pausing only for a second before he continued. “I am, like, eighty percent sure we won’t get hypothermia.” 

You snorted. “Reassuring.” 

“Look, I’ll go first,” he said with a grin as he pecked your cheek before running into the lake in just his boxers, practically waddling when he was waist deep before diving completely underwater. 

Your laughs echoed across the surface of the water as you shook your head at your idiotic boyfriend, snarky retorts on his run on the tip of your tongue as you patiently waited for him to resurface but he didn’t. 

You frowned. “Stiles?”

Nothing. 

“Stiles!” 

Still nothing. 

A growing panic was blossoming in your chest, your stomach twisting as reality began to set in and before you even got the chance to think twice, you found yourself running into the water as you frantically called out your boyfriend’s name.

Your chest tightened and your throat strained as you called Stiles’ name, eyes looking across the dark lake surface as you tried to spot any sign of your boyfriend before—

“AHH!” 

“GOT YOU, BABY!” 

You turned your head, glaring at the grinning boy who had grabbed your foot under the water seconds ago before reaching over to slap his shoulder. 

“You dick!” you huffed out and shook your head. “I thought something had happened to you!”

“I needed to get you in here,” Stiles said with an innocent smile, and you hated the way you couldn’t even be mad at him when he looked at you like that. “But you’re right.” 

You raised your brows. “That you’re a dick?”

“No, that it’s too fucking cold in this lake,” he said with a shaky laugh as he reached for you, his hands fining home on your waist and his smile still the prettiest thing you’ve ever seen even if his teeth are chattering. 

“I’m always right, Stilinski,” you murmured as you wrapped your arms around his neck, taking a moment to count the freckles on his cheeks in the moonlight. You couldn’t make out many of his features, but his freckles looked like their own little constellation calling your name. 

Stiles didn’t even stop you as you leaned forward to press a kiss on each one of them.

“I love you,” he murmured, his breath fanning over your cheeks and you couldn’t help but smile against his cheek. 

“I love you too,” you whispered back, your lips meeting his in the moonlight. 

“Baby?” 

“Yeah?” 

“Can we please go home before my balls shrivel up inside me?” he whispered against your lips and only grinned when you leaned your head back to the sky, loud and unforgiving laugh echoing across the lake. 

“Yeah, let’s go, pretty boy,” you smiled as you both swam back towards the bank, shaking and shivering—but smiling nonetheless—as you quickly threw your clothes back on, rushing to the jeep where Stiles blasted the heat. And thankfully, for once in it’s life, it worked. 

“Happy Valentine’s, baby,” Stiles murmured as he leaned over to kiss you again. 

“Happy Valentine’s, Stiles,” you grinned back, hand on his cheek as he kissed you sweetly.

“I promise to make you breakfast in the morning to make up for the hypothermia.”

“With coffee too?” 

“With coffee too, baby.”

.

[apprenticestanheight]

Home - Peter Strahm x gn! reader

OOOOOOKAY!! It's been a while yet since I wrote for anything in the saw fandom but I rewatched saw four today while working on a couple of things to sell via facebook marketplace and then this idea rose from the ashes that have been my saw obsession for the last few months, which, as it probably will every single spooky season from here on out, has come back in full fucking force.

Fic type - this is, for all intents and purposes, fluff!

Warnings - the reader is a crocheter!! if that counts?? also this unedited because I wanted to post before getting some other writing stuff done oops

Peter smiles softly as he turns the key in the lock and opens the front door to his home. If there is to be any guarantee in recent, it's that he'll come home to you at the end of the day. It's nice for that to be a guarantee in at least some respect, the one on his mind that week being that the Jigsaw case can finally be put to rest.

It's been a long road of twists and turns, near deaths and too many near misses to count, but it's worth it, he decides. Almost dying but making it out, making it home to you, is more worth it than not. It has to be.

His grin widens as he pushes his shoes off his feet, takes off his coat and walks down the hall. He takes a right and ends up in the living room, wants to be surprised to find you where he does but is completely and totally the opposite.

"Have you moved at all today?" He asks, unable to stop the fondness in his tone. "I swear, you were sitting in that exact spot when I left for work this morning."

You laugh a little bit, shaking your head. Peter is unsurprised to see you in the same corner of the couch you'd been in when he left that morning, working away on the blanket you'd been commissioned for two weeks prior.

"I've moved at least a few inches," you murmur. "You know how I get when I get focused."

Peter nods, moving to sit next to you on the couch. "When you're focused, you become both an unstoppable force and an immovable object," he says. "I love that about you. Have since before we were married."

"I'm glad for that," you murmur. "Almost as glad as I am to be done with this blanket--the customer asked me to use cotton yarn and I hate the way it feels on my hook."

"Why'd you accept the commission, then?"

"Because eighty hours of work paid at a living new jersey wage, plus yarn cost and the cost of my time to put this together has made me a grand total of five hundred fuckin' dollars," you smile softly. "I love that this can be my job. I love you, Peter Strahm, so fucking much."

"Because the FBI pays me a good bit, or just generally?" You'd owned the house the two of you were living in, had no mortgage payments or anything as you'd inherited the house from an aunt who'd died of old age the decade previous, and Peter was happy to take on most of the expenses after working for two and a half decades in nursing had burned you out to a point of near nonrecognition.

It had been six months since you'd decided to go with early retirement and so many days were just like that one, where you'd get up early and brew the both of you coffee while Peter made the both of you breakfast and the two of you talked about your days to come. Crochet had always wormed it's way into yours and Peter would always grumble about work, but you knew that things had finally started to get easier as the jigsaw stuff died down.

"Both," You answer. "My love for you is simultaneously full of merit and completely absent of it. I just wake up most days knowing that marrying you is the best decision I've ever made."

Peter smiles at your comment, and you let him kiss you sweetly, savoring the feeling of his lips against your own.

Your quiet life is a good one, one you wouldn't trade for a damn thing.

[merganalogy]

Part 5

Parts 1 2 3 4 5 6 7

This one takes place in the 60s (Part 2)

“I got what I deserved?” Morgana echoed, her voice trembling with disbelief. “I deserved to be lied to, betrayed, and killed by someone I once trusted with my deepest secret?”

Merlin remained silent, refusing to meet her gaze. Morgana pressed on, her resolve unwavering. “It wasn’t just my secret, Merlin. I trusted you with my life.” Her voice quivered. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I wanted to,” His confession came softly. “From the moment I knew you had magic, it was all I wanted to do.”

“Why didn’t you?” Morgana’s voice rose. "We could have supported each other. Eased the burden of our secret together.” She hesitated, then added, “Perhaps I wouldn’t have turned to Morgause.”

If only that was easy.

A feeling, a mix of anxiety and relief washed over him as he prepared to unburden himself from the weight of his secrets.

Merlin’s nod was barely perceptible. "When I arrived in Camelot, like you, I knew nothing of magic. Not until I received Gaius' teaching and Kilgharrah's guidance." He paused, his next words caught in his throat. His gaze dropped to the floor, and he took a deep breath, clearly wrestling with the decision to speak. "I trusted them with my life. So when they warned against revealing my magic to you, I listened.”

“You shouldn’t have.”

The air between them crackled with unspoken emotions, the tension palpable.

"The worst part is, I didn't always listen." Merlin admitted. "I knew Mordred was destined to kill Arthur ever since we first met him, despite that knowledge, I still saved his life, and it cost Arthur his."

Her eyes widened, her mouth slightly agape as she stared at him in utter disbelief. The news was too shocking to comprehend, too surreal to accept. "You knew?"

“Kilgharrah foresaw much,” Merlin replied. “Including your path toward darkness. Camelot’s true enemy was never Uther—it was you. Lives could have been spared if I’d heeded his warnings.”

“But not mine.” A heavy sigh escaped her lips, carrying the weight of her disappointment. It was as if the air itself had grown heavy with unmet expectations.

"You, more than anyone, ought to grasp the ease with which your demise could have been accomplished." He instantly noticed how her brows furrowed, "If we are here today, it is because I disregard his counsel. I adamantly refused to acknowledge the potential for malevolence within you, as I held firm to the belief in your inherent goodness." He drew a deep breath, his voice heavy with resignation. "Yet, your actions have validated his warnings. You've obliterated entire lineages, laid waste to kingdoms, and snuffed out countless innocent lives. For what purpose?"

"You had those who cautioned you, whereas I had Morgause." A storm brewing behind her eyes as frustration began to simmer beneath the surface. "She exposed me to the true horrors of our world, the injustices inflicted upon our people by Uther and the likes of him. They needed to be halted."

"By seizing control of Camelot?"

"Uther's reign had to end, and though you may protest, Arthur was his father's son. What other recourse did I have, Merlin? To remain subservient and obedient, as you did? Clearly, that path led to naught but disappointment. You never trusted Arthur—"

"Because of you." How could she fail to see it? "Magic is merely a tool, neither inherently good nor evil. Its use determines its nature. Arthur needed to understand that. But how could he comprehend this, with you are embodying his father's teachings? Magic was evil, and you have only confirmed Uther's beliefs."

"I acted as I believed right at the time—"

“Don’t justify what you have done. You were no child Morgana, you should have known better. Done better.”

“You poisoned me.”

Ah, of course she would throw that back at him.

"Then direct your anger toward me alone," he bellowed. "But you cannot justify the slaughter of innocents—"

"You destroyed me that day, Merlin," her voice fractured. "I loved you, and you ruined me. Magic did not corrupt me, Merlin. You did."

Her revelation struck him like a physical blow, stealing the very breath from his lungs. She regarded him, awaiting. But there was nothing that he could offer her back.

She loved him?

Should he believe her?

His heart pounded deafeningly, drowning out his thoughts. All he managed was, "How unfortunate."

It felt as though they had been transported back to the throne room, the weight of their shared history hanging heavy in the air. The intensity of her gaze mirrored that fateful moment, as if the passage of time had dissolved, leaving only the raw emotion between them.

He had just poisoned her all over again.

In her eyes, he glimpsed a reflection of the betrayal and hurt that had marked their past, a silent acknowledgment of the wounds they had inflicted upon each other. It was a poignant reminder of how far they had come, and how much they had lost along the way.

"Indeed, it is," she sniffed. "Goodbye, Merlin."

From this list, send me a prompt if you’d like.

[whumblr]

Could you please write anything for Zayne sending Jay gifts at work to make him feel uncomfortable?

I got u

Home is where the hurt is: Part 1

-

Presents

It was hard to ignore… the enormous bouquet of flowers on his desk practically lighting up the room.

Jay approached slowly, giving people the time to remove it, hoping it had just been placed on a random empty desk as he’d been out of the office all morning. But his gut and the sly glances his coworkers kept throwing at him already told him the answer.

“This isn’t for me, right?” he tried when he reached his desk and the flowers were still there. “What, is it my last day or something?”

Nobody said anything, and Terry just leaned over and flicked the card attached to the bouquet with his pen.

Resigned, Jay dropped his bag under his desk and picked the tiny card out.

Thank you for the lovely time yesterday <3

He crushed the card in a fist. He knew it. He fucking knew it was from Zayne the moment he’d walked in. Lovely time, my ass. His back still hurt like hell and he could only walk without stumbling while all drugged up on painkillers. Zayne of course would see it as a lovely date and-- His breath stilled as he realised the implications that rippled from every single flower and he felt the stares of his coworkers.

“Did… did you read the ca—” he started, but when he looked up his coworkers all had the same badly hidden smirk on their face. Yet they still had the gall to shake their head.

Jay sighed. “No, I didn’t have a date last night. This is just a prank.” But of course, no one believed him.

“It’s not a crime to have fun, Jay.”

It should be if someone’s idea of fun was stalking and torture.

-

He awkwardly bustled around the front door, juggling to hold his bag, keys, and the flowers.

“Aw, you shouldn’t have.” Zayne beamed at him from the couch. He rose and took the bouquet from Jay and placed it on the coffee table. “I’m surprised you accepted them and didn’t immediately chuck them in the bin.”

“Actually, I tried to pawn them off to Denise because I can’t bike home holding this anyway, but she scolded me, angry on behalf of my non-existent date, and so I had to take the tube home where everyone, unfortunately, was wildly considerate trying not to crush these.” The flowers combined with his sour expression, elicited glances in the tube that had varied from ‘aw, how nice’ to ‘he’s got something to apologise for at home’. Well, if he had come home without flowers, he probably would have something he was going to be sorry for… best to avoid that.

Jay rummaged through the kitchen in search of a vase. “If you didn’t think I’d accept them, why did you send them?”

“Maybe the real gift was you bumbling about…” Zayne shrugged.

“You weren’t even there to see my reaction!”

“Your reaction just now is more than enough. But if I had to guess, you went all 404, ripped up the card, and came up with some bullshit excuse to deflect.”

Jay 404’ed.

Then he turned and grumbled, “—crumpled up the card…”

Zayne nodded with a smile and threw his hands up. See. “Come on, how often do you as a guy get flowers, hm? It’s nice. And you like plants, so…” He waved to the pots of greenery dotted around the living room.

“You’ve watched too many films,” Jay said. “No one sends flowers to someone’s company.”

“Oh?”

“Personal gifts just get send to someone’s home.”

“What if we’d had a lovely first date but I didn’t know your address and wanted to thank you?” Zayne asked sweetly.

“There wouldn’t be a second date.”

“Okay, so when do people send a gift to a company?”

“When it’s from other companies? When they want to thank them for a project well done? Like, we sometimes get cake or something tasty to celebrate.”

“Huh…”

“Do not!” Jay warned, recognising the contemplation in that single syllable, and pointed a finger in Zayne’s face.

And he did not. Or so Jay thought for at least a couple weeks. And by the time he’d completely forgotten about it, he had other things on his mind. Like Emery coming out as an attempted murderer and the shitshow that followed after he told Dennis everything. Not to mention that trip to hospital.

Another thing he’d completely forgotten about in the wake of these events, was the publication of the interview he did with Emery. Luke reminded him with a slap on the shoulder – which startled the hell out of him – and congratulated him on getting back into business. Jay’s protests on it being a shit article were waved away – “That’s just your burnout talking” – and Jay hate-re-read his own piece, memories of awkward things during the interview suddenly making a lot more sense and turning dark.

The next morning, with Dennis also trying to convince him the article wasn’t even that bad and that he'd mostly salvaged everything, they were interrupted.

“Delivery for Mr Fawcett?” A young man entered the office with a large, flat cardboard box.

“Yes?” Jay said, carefully, raising a hand but just really wanting to duck behind one of the partitions. He signed for delivery and watched as the man carefully shifted the box onto his desk. Jay opened the envelope taped on top first.

To thank you and congratulate you with the publication of the excellent interview. – G. Emery.

He squinted at the name. Not only didn’t it start with Z, the thought of Emery actually sending out presents was… somehow unsettling. He hummed his doubt and passed the card to Dennis. When he opened the box, he found it chockful of little cakes.

“Suspicious…”

Dennis eagerly reached for one of the cakes, but pulled back as a thought hit him. “You think it’s poisoned?” he asked in a hushed voice.

“To finish the job?” Jay muttered back. “No, I don’t think these are from Emery. Can you imagine the guy giving out cake? This reeks of Zayne.”

He snapped a pic of the box and shot a text to Zayne, not mincing words. Are these poisoned?!

No. Was the quick response, followed by a rolling eye emoji. Jay turned the screen to Dennis. Called it.

“Fine, then, take one,” Jay grumbled and Dennis immediately chose a chocolate one. “Guess I’ll hand these out.”

-

“How?!” Jay shouted, incredulous, by way of greeting as soon as he slammed the front door behind him. Because there was no way on earth Zayne had just convinced Emery to send out cake to say sorry for attempted murder.

Zayne grinned, somewhat proud. “Managed to convince his secretary to arrange a little thank you for the journalist that made our boss look good.”

“Does she know her boss wants said journalist dead?”

“He doesn’t need to know about that. Oh.” He sat up when Jay held out a little box to him. “What’s this.”

“Poisoned cake. Saved one for you.”

“Was it good?”

“Well, I didn’t die, so yeah, it was okay. Team appreciated it more than I did.”

“Well then,” Zayne said through a mouthful of cream, closing his eyes in sugary bliss, “You’re welcome.”

-

Tag list: @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @burtlederp @castielamigos-whump-side-blog @hurtmebeautifully @rougenoirofthepurpleterror @susiequaz12 @whump-me-all-night-long @rippedjeansandfadeddreams @im-just-here-for-the-whump @restrainthenmaime @freefallingup13 @whatwasmyprevioususername @myfriendcallsmeasickwoman19 @firewheeesky @redstainedsocks @hold-back-on-the-comfort @whumpawink @break-so-beautifully @approach-me-and-ill-cry @painsandconfusion @afabulousmrtake @wormwriting @soopytime @whumpedydump @pickleking8 @itsmyworld98 @whumpifi @painless-and-colourful

[raparopa]

a/n: @mischiefmanaged71 @crazyhorseforgot

warnings: Language, Squaller!OC

pairing: Nikolai Lantsov x OC!Dasha Romanov

summary: There is clearly an understatement between Nikolai and his childhood friend. But who knew that things could get even worse when the sun shines on the horizon?

gold and silver

part one. about meetings

I looked at the stars. Silver jewels scattered over the blue velvet of the night sky - this was the sky above the sea, in which I spent almost all my time. And yet, accepting Nikolai's invitation was one of the best decisions of my life.

I have found a new family. Tolya and Tamar turned out to be some of the most incredible people I have ever met. Such a connection was for me...not new... The fact is that I myself experience such a connection, the only thing I do not know for one hundred percent is whether it is mutual.

During the time spent side by side on the ship, next to Sturmhond, I realized that I love Nikolai. And every day this feeling only intensified. I looked at him and tried to figure out if his feelings were similar to mine, or if Nikolai was acting like a little stinging fox as usual. But there was something in his actions, looks, words that made me suspect that we had a good chance.

We became much closer than in our youth, we were two parts of one whole, we were those who cannot live without each other. We never said anything that could indicate our feelings for each other. I don't know if it was necessary at this time? I did not want to destroy that wonderful peace between me and Nikolai, which we have been building and restoring for many years, and now we support it.

Each time, Tamar said with a cheerful smile how Nikolai's heart was beating, as soon as he thought of me. But how was I to know if she was joking or not? You can't tell these twins.

A cool sea breeze blew into my face. I smiled, twisting it with my fingers into a small whirlwind and letting it float through the water. But from the other side of the ship there were conversations. And several voices were clearly unfamiliar to me. I frowned and pushed off the deck with my hands, striding confidently there to understand what was happening. I don’t know what was going on, but my gut told me that something was going on that I obviously didn’t like. Because of this, the wind increased, rose, crashing into the sails.

I went to the other side of the deck and saw Tolya, Tamar and two strangers at the gangway. One of them was a tall, strong guy, next to him was a short girl with long, black hair. They talked about something very tensely.

-What's going on?-I shouted to be heard. All pairs of eyes immediately stared at me and at my menacing face.

-Dasha!- Tolya greeted joyfully, waving his hand to me. -We have unexpected passengers here,-he pointed to a couple of strangers.

-Yes, they want to charter our ship,- Tamar continued, showing me a gold hairpin that sparkled in the moonlight. -We need to take them to the captain. How is he? In what mood? - She smiled strangely at me.

I was embarrassed, but did not show it, only raising my eyebrows.

-As usual, in good health,-I said, folding my arms over my chest and carefully looking at the strangers. -Good, -I nodded. -Tolya?

He nodded to me.

-Take them to the captain.

It seemed to me that the issue was resolved, but then soldiers of the First Army appeared from the darkness.

-You! Stop!- the old man in military uniform croaked.

- Do you want a fight? Huh?-Tamar said menacingly, pulling out her axe.

-This man is a deserter, he must be with us!- the old man continued.

-Is that so?- Tamar continued caustically. I rolled my eyes, rubbing the bridge of my nose. -They want a fight!- she roared, causing everyone who was carrying bags on deck to grab their weapons.

-Oh, Saints, help me...- I said to myself, mentally dreaming how I would conduct a conversation with them, and how I would ask Nikolai to give them a couple of diplomacy lessons.

-I don't want to aggravate the conflict with Shu Han...

It was a mistake. Mistake old man in uniform. Tolya took up the sword.

-We are not Shu Han,-Yul-Bataar said, approaching his sister. -We are on our own.

-Save your bullets for the war, and tell your soldiers to know their place.- I barked belligerently, stepping onto the gangplank. I was rather tired of this situation, and I wanted to exhale as soon as possible and calmly sail away. Both my words and my old caftan, with which I did not dare to part after the Second Army, were clearly a weighty argument. Ravka's soldiers retreated.

Strangers boarded.

They looked rumpled, but they were very smart. I slowly examined them from head to toe, trying to isolate at least something that could help me find out more information about them, but I did not find anything strange or unusual.

-We’ll go to the captain,- I said slowly and low, when Tolya and Tamar appeared behind me. - He will give his final verdict.

The guy jerked his shoulder in annoyance, glaring at me angrily, but I didn't care.

-Let's go. -I passed by, heading straight into the hall to Nikolai.

I physically felt the tension that was in the air. No one dared to utter a word, I think the twins and I looked menacing, so the strangers were silent.

Nobody ever tried to charter our ship, it was the first time, but it was...interesting.

We approached the doors when Tolya opened them.

-Captain,- he turned to Nikolai, going inside. -They want to charter our ship.

- And immediately. - Some unprecedented courage suddenly woke up in the boy. We were also in the room.

-We need to sail now!- the girl also flushed, stubbornly following her companion.

Nikolai chuckled.

-Let's get two things straight,- he braced his hands on the table. -I'm not given orders on my own ship.- His face immediately became tense.

It was always amazing how he switched from one state to another so quickly.

- And we're already sailing. Glad you joined. And now, maybe add some light to the cabin, - I frowned, not understanding what he was talking about. - Since you, Alina Starkov. Saint on twenty million kruge.

These words hung in the air like a thick fog. My face stretched in surprise, I felt something rising in my stomach. That was the last thing I expected to hear tonight, I would have been prepared for anything but this. I looked first at Alina, then at her companion, and in the end my eyes fixed on Nikolai, as if demanding an answer from him.

How did he know? How does he know the price for this girl? Why didn't he say anything to me... That is, to us.

Lantsov quickly shot his eyes in my direction, and again turned to the newcomers. He pulled a revolver out of its holster and placed it meaningfully on the table.

-Alive or dead.- His voice became low and almost menacing as she looked at Alina.

What the hell...

-It’s silly to play up, Starkov, you are a Sun Summoner,-Nikolai continued.

In surprise, I even had to lean my hand against the wall as thoughts raced feverishly through my aching head. I looked at Tolya, but judging by his expression, he was also, to put it mildly, shocked. We both stood with him, behind Alina Starkov's back, like fools, the only ones who didn't understand what the hell was going on.

-Yes, you are right,- Alina threw belligerently, throwing up her hands, from which light immediately escaped.

Nikolai whistled.

-Not bad,- he shook his head, with a meaningful smile. - I'm hard to impress.

But Sun Summoner clearly did not share Nikolai's fun.

-Let us go,- she hissed, -Or lose twenty million kruge and the ship. Her threats looked a little funny. No matter how saintly Alina was, she did not seem to me an experienced fighter, rather a chaotic bundle of energy.

The light burned in Alina's hands, like a real, living flame of light. I myself did not understand how I took a step forward, how my fingers froze in signs that they could summon a hurricane. But I was gently pulled by the shoulder.

-Don’t, Dasha,- Tolya whispered to me. -Don’t jump to conclusions, Romanov. We can always get into a fight. Where is your diplomacy?

I glared at him, reluctantly admitting that he was right.

-Let you,- Nikolai got up from his chair at the table. -You can sentence us to death in the sea desert,- he went to the table, pouring some amber alcohol into a crystal glass. - Please note that we are already far from the shore. Besides, I won't hand you over to the Fjordans.

-Really? -Alina immediately stopped releasing light from her palms.

-Yes, Saints forbid,- Nikolai simply threw, realizing in a moment that he had blurted out. -Or is it indecent to say this in front of a living saint?- He turned to me in a rhetorical question. I tilted my head, pursing my lips.

They continued talking, but the words slipped past me. The only thing I heard was Nikolai's cute tone when he spoke to Alina. I still tried furiously to grab at least one word of their conversation, but I couldn't. For some reason, I felt betrayed. Did Nikolai not trust me so much that he could not devote to his ingenious plan to "capture" the Sun Summoner? Am I not the kind of person he can share everything with? He knows that I will always be by his side.

I looked at Nicholai. I felt offended. I felt selfish. Why was my chest so empty? Why, as soon as Alina Starkov stepped on board, did it hurt so much?

Maybe I did something wrong, since Nikolai no longer trusts me? Did I say something that made him doubt me?

Someone touched my shoulder, and only then did I wake up.

Tolya looked at me with regret, nodding in the direction of the exit. Of course, damn it, he heard my heart. I quickly gathered myself together, gave him a forced smile and nodded, following him and our "guests" to show them their sleeping quarters.

-No, no, no,- we were all immediately interrupted by the voice of Nikolai. We turned to look at him at once. - You, - he pointed to me. - Dasha, stay for a minute. -he asked, trying not to smile.

Tolya smiled slyly at me and led the passengers out of the cabin. I carefully closed the door, turning to look at him.

- Nikolai. - I said evenly, straightening my back, and folding my hands behind my back, raising my eyes with an effort to look at him...

He finally allowed himself a wide smile as he walked up to me, taking my hand and leading me forward through the cabin.

- Nikolai, if you want to talk, then speak. - Sharper than you wanted, I said.

-What's the matter?- he asked softly, his blue eyes sparkling charmingly, the way he always did when he wanted to get something.

I exhaled heavily, disengaging from his grip and rubbing my wrists.

This gesture obviously did not please him. He stopped smiling.

- Dasha, what happened? Any problems?

I looked at him from under my brows.

-Well,- I began hard. -Tell me, Nikolai, do you trust me?- I decided to come from afar.

He opened his eyes in surprise.

-Of course I trust you. More than anyone, you know it дорогая. Ever since you didn't tell your nanny my name as a kid when she asked about the stolen cakes. -he said, grabbing my hand again. Those words made me smile faintly.

-Remember that?- he chuckled. -I remember well how you…

-...Saved your ass for the first time? Yes, such things are not forgotten, Nikolai. - I continued for him, forcing the prince to roll his eyes jokingly. -But... It's different. Why didn't you tell me about Alina Starkov? - I finally asked. -Do you think, - I swallowed a lump in my throat from the weight of my own words. - Do you think that I cannot help you? It was possible to devote, at least in general, to your incredible plan. - I turned up my nose.

Nicholai sighed softly.

-Everything had to be as natural as possible. No one should have suspected anything, Alina Starkov in particular. No, of course, I don’t doubt your acting skills, Romanov, but I already walked on the edge of a knife.- He said as his hands let go of my palms, gently wrapping around my waist. - I didn't know it would hurt you so much. I didn't think about your feelings, my mistake.

He shook her head. - Excuse me. - He looked into my eyes, and some mischievous sparks sparkled in his eyes. - Can you forgive me?- he smiled.

I closed my eyes.

-Promise to continue to share such things with me, Nikolai.- I asked quietly, blowing off the hair that had fallen on my face.

-I promise if you let me offer you a worthy apology. -He ran his fingers along my cheek.

Saints. Are my assumptions correct? Could it be that the connection I felt was shared by Nikolai?

-Watching what you mean? -Oh, dear Nikolai, don't think that I'll give you up so easily. - Everyone can say big words.

If I don't drive you crazy, Nikolai Lantsov, no one can do it.

[gorogues]

Fictober 2024

Prompt number #2 Fanfiction Fandom: Flash Rogues Rating: M – Mature Warnings: Profanity, violent talk, flirty talk (nothing explicit) Notes: If you've forgotten their frisky but Comics Code-compliant Bronze Age antics, here's your reminder.

Day Two: “It’s been a long time”

Lisa had been puttering around her apartment all afternoon, doing the sorts of mindless chores which keep one’s thoughts from straying too much.  The downstairs buzzer had rung a few minutes earlier, but she’d ignored it; Len was in prison at the moment and there was nobody else she’d want to see.  It was probably the cops, and they’d find their way upstairs anyway.

Soon there was a familiar knock at the door, one she hadn’t heard in several years.  The man who’d created it was dead, and who could have learned that little signal he’d always used to let her know it was him?

In a fury, she rushed to the door and peered out the peephole at the motherfucker who was definitely a dead man that simply didn’t know it yet.  But the man standing there wasn’t Barry Allen or some other cop, it was an inoffensive-looking old guy who was still gonna die.

She threw open the door with an enraged expression, ready to end this creep, and he held out a bouquet of her favourite flowers: orchids and roses together, tied with a golden ribbon.

“Lisa…it’s me.  It’s been far too long.”

She stopped and stared.

“'Let the great world spin for ever down the ringing grooves of change',” he quoted with a friendly smile, reminding her of the poem they’d once shared because of his fondness for the line.

Tears welled up in her eyes, and she pulled him into a powerful embrace which made him gasp.

“You’ll have to be patient with me, as this body broke a few ribs in the accident.  I’ve been healing it with my powers, but he was old and it takes longer,” he admitted, hugging her gingerly in return.

“How?” she asked, letting the tears flow openly, and tugged him through the doorway to give them some privacy from snooping neighbours.  She closed the door behind them and led him to the couch to catch his laboured breath.

At this, he grinned ever wider.  “I’ve possessed the body of Barry Allen’s father after he died in a car accident.  I am now living with Barry, but he doesn’t know it’s me.”

Lisa’s jaw dropped momentarily, but soon she was chuckling too.  “Okay, that’s totally sick and I love it!  What’s next?”

“I, er, haven’t quite decided on my full plan of action yet,” he confessed with a sheepish look.  “Still getting accustomed to these particular accommodations.”  He pointed at his new body, which was nothing like the one he’d previously had, but she snuggled against his chest anyway, mindful of his tender ribs.

“Just glad to have you back because I never thought I’d see you again, and I love you no matter how you look,” she told him contentedly, and he smiled.  He stroked her hair fondly and kissed the crown of her head, grateful for her complete acceptance of decidedly unusual circumstances. 

“I missed you too, sweetheart.  I’ve been so proud to hear that you’ve given my dear son Barry hell since I’ve been gone -- it’s not the life I wanted you to have, but you’ve certainly made the most of it.  Thank you.”

She smirked slyly at him, playing with his striped necktie.  “And I bet you’re going to join me in that mission, so we can ruin the Flash together.” 

He nodded.  “If you’ll have me.”

“Oh, you know I will.  Speaking of which, you must be awfully uncomfortable in that stuffy old guy’s suit, so I’d better get you out of it.”

He leaned back to get a good look at her and arched an eyebrow.  “Why, young lady, if I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were coming on to me.”

Lisa swung her long hair over her shoulders and used his tie to pull him closer, looking him up and down.  She took the vintage fedora off his head and placed it on her own, the brim pulled low.

“I guess you’re still addled from this whole possession business, you poor thing.  But don’t worry, I’ll be gentle.”

“Well now, I didn’t say that would be necessary,” he said as he unbuttoned his jacket.

[theluckywizard]

In the Shattering of Things, Ch. 40: A Keep and a Question

In the Shattering of Things

Fic Summary: Lady Rose Trevelyan's idle, aristocratic life blinks out in a haze of irrelevance when the breach destroys the Conclave. She may be soft and coddled when she joins the Inquisition, but there's a fierceness inside her she's yet to fully recognize. Armed with only a few relevant skills and the mark that makes her a legend, she is thrust onto a path delivering hope where it’s long been scorched away and finds comfort in the grumpy, handsome stick in the mud charged with her protection and training. As she stumbles her way across southern Thedas, she begins to realize she's tangled at the center of machinations she barely understands, and she's not alone in that. Enter Hawke.

Chapter 40: A Keep and a Question

Chapter Summary: As the Inquisition claims Skyhold, Rose must decide whether she wishes to accept the leadership role that her friends have been planning to offer her.

Excerpt:

They all wait for my answer. 

Instead, I walk out.

“I have to think this through,” I say, heading out the door onto the battlements outside. I knew there was a chance it could happen but I thought it would be a discussion between all of us, not an ambush. My suitability seems to have been predetermined, but they’re forgetting that my optimism is a reckless bear, my organizational skills are woefully lacking, and my tendency to get into life threatening trouble in the field is assured. 

Maker, I’ve just gotten used to being the Herald of Andraste and now they want to give me real responsibility? I hear the door open and close behind me. I glance up to see Cullen checking in on me. 

“Are you all right?” he asks. 

“My friends have all decided to make me Inquisitor without consulting me,” I say. “How do you think I feel?” Cullen looks sheepish and leans against a merlon. 

“You could refuse,” he suggests and I give him a sharp look, trying to understand how, exactly, they could spring this on me in this way.

“Cullen, you just said there’s no one you’d rather see in the position. Was that a lie? Are you trying to talk me out of it?”

“I– no. I think you’re the best available candidate.”

“Then why would you tell me I could refuse?”

“Because you can. I wouldn’t take that choice from you. It won’t be easy to be Inquisitor,” he says earnestly. “It’s a sacrifice. And you’ve given so much already.”

“But you believe I could do it?”

“Of course you could. You’re– the best of us. I just don’t want you to feel like you have to do it. You don’t.”

“Then talk me out of it. As an exercise,” I beg him. He nods and then stands, rubbing his hand across his stubble and then glances up at me.

“You’ll have to make impossible decisions.”

“I’ve already made impossible decisions.” 

“Worse ones. Ones you’ll have to live with until the end of your days. Hundreds, potentially thousands of deaths on your hands. Do you know what that feels like?”

“I could handle it.”

“That’s a lot of darkness to carry. Knowing that you were the one responsible. I wouldn’t wish that on you.”

“I think I could bear it. And if it changes me, hopefully it would only make me stronger.” He paces in a small figure eight and looks up again when he’s thought of another point.

“Everyone will have their own agenda and will be trying to influence you. You won’t know who to trust.”

“I already know who I can trust.”

“Do you? How well do you really know any of us?” It feels like an admonishment– that I’m too trusting. And even though this is an exercise, I feel the weight of it, like there’s some truth. I’ve always leaned on my intuition to determine trustworthiness and little more.

“That’s a good point,” I admit. “I think I have good instincts about people though.”

“You do. Though you tend to give everyone the benefit of the doubt before they’ve ever earned it.”

“True.”

“People will try to assassinate you.” 

“People are already trying to kill me,” I say with a look of amusement.

“True.” He paces away and reaches up for the back of his neck and then peeks at me cautiously before saying the next one.

“Your relationship with the rest of us will change,” he says. “You’ll become our leader. We’ll answer to you. We’ll no longer be on the same footing.” For some reason this one feels heavier, like there’s personal relevance that sits off kilter inside him.

“I would never treat you like subordinates.”

“Like it or not, that’s what we would be. You would have the final word.”

“Does this mean you won’t argue with me?” I ask, a little smile creeping up my left cheek. He returns it, casting a lively look with a little shake of his head.

“Oh, I think we’ll argue as much as ever. But you’ll win by default.”

“Sounds fabulous. Where do I sign up?” I joke. “So you’re saying I couldn’t be friends with any of you.”

“Not exactly– but there’s a degree of professionalism that would certainly impact how we all interact with you,” he explains.

“You mean like calling me by a title and never using my given name?” I say in a pointed poke. He laughs at his boots.

“You’re a menace, Herald,” he says, poking back about as hard as he ever does.

“This is why you were asking me my opinion about the encampment and our forces earlier, wasn’t it? Because you knew you’d all be asking me to do this.” 

“I didn’t quite realize it at the time, but I suppose so, yes.”

“So you think I should do it? If you were asking me, you must have believed I’d accept.”

“I’m not going to tell you what to do,” he scolds me. “I think you’d make us proud. And if you didn’t want to do it, I’d support your right to refuse.” I’m reading him, because I care about his opinion but I can’t get a feel for what he wants.

“Talk me into it.”

Tagging DAFF Crew:

@warpedlegacy | @rakshadow | @rosella-writes | @effelants | @bluewren | @breninarthur | @ar-lath-ma-cully | @dreadfutures | @ir0n-angel | @inquisimer | @crackinglamb | @nirikeehan | @oxygenforthewicked | @mogwaei | @exalted-dawn-drabbles | @melisusthewee | @blarrghe | @agentkatie

[noyzinerd]

My heart is breaking for Derek. These two post+reblog combined are the best meta I've ever seen.

I like to think Derek becoming an evolved wolf and leaving with Braeden was him starting his healing journey by realizing he had to take actual action in his life instead of passively watching the world crush him and making the choice to finally distance himself from the origin of his trauma for a bit.

We actually do see the peak of Derek's PTSD in season 4ish, after coming back from being de-aged. He starts losing his powers, which I think is from him literally losing himself after being retraumatized by his abuser. This dragged on for most of the season with Derek not knowing what was wrong with himself. I can only equate it to the frog in a slowly boiling pot analogy. He probably didn't even realize anything was wrong all this time until the damage was too big to ignore (i.e. losing his powers) causing him to finally take a good hard look at himself and decide that he wanted to stop feeling helpless. It would explain why he reached out to Argent for help with his new gold eyes and let Braeden teach him about guns that season instead of listlessly accepting it (although, yeah, there was still quite a bit of Derek "accepting his inevitable death", but I like to think asking for help was him valiantly fighting against his comfortable habit of retreating inward and accepting fate).

The reason why I think becoming an evolved wolf after dying was Derek's turning point, his rise of the Phoenix moment, is that he, not only regained his powers (thus his sense of self), but he came back literally stronger than he had ever been (like, he crushed a beserker's skull with his bare hands) and faced his abuser head on and stood naked in front of her with no shame or fear (symbolizing that his body is his own now and he no longer fears what someone else, especially Kate, could do to it, he no longer feels vulnerable being bare in her presence).

I imagine his ability to change into a full wolf was reached when his mind was finally put back together (there's a beautiful fic about this that I found called Either Way (You'll Figure It Out Someday) by ohhalefire, here) and when the wolf and man parts of himself reconciled.

As for the moment when he told Stiles to go save Scott as he was dying, at this point we've seen him relying on dream!Stiles comfortably enough to imply that he does this so regularly that for him to let Stiles go in his final moments I like to believe is Derek finally choosing to be here, in the present, in the moment, instead of falling back on his fictional version of Stiles. And I like to think, that in that moment as he lay dying, like he always assumed he would, he realized for the first time that, as he stood at death's door, he wasn't ready to die yet. He realized he still had things he needed to do.

And thus, he rose. He evolved.

And once the battle was over, he had to take some time to sort out the rest of himself and breathe (because, yes, he had done a lot of the heavy lifting of getting the man and wolf halves of himself to agree to live, but there was still a lot of work within himself he still needed to do).

That quiet goodbye-nod to Stiles I feel was a dual goodbye to the actual Stiles and his fictional Stiles. If you notice, he gives him a soft smile. In that moment, I can practically hear him thinking to Stiles, "Goodbye, friend. You have no idea what you've done for me," while simultaneously giving dream!Stiles a very permanent goodbye, a "Thank you, for everything, Stiles, but it's time for me to do this on my own, now."

A very good indicator of Derek's mental journey is his time in South America, making a name for himself as the Lobo Homem. He's more actively pursuing leads and living a life of action instead of the passive beta life, following Scott's lead, back in the previous 3 seasons.

When he finally comes back to Beacon Hills in the final season, we see him popping Stiles' hero-fantasy (symbolizing how aware and present he is to the events of real life) and facing Jennifer Blake. The latter is also important as, according to another reblog I saw, one symptom of PTSD is delayed emotions to significant events. This shows Derek acknowledging the mixed feelings Jennifer conjured in him so long ago that he never got around to truly feeling. Back when Jennifer first betrayed Derek, he flipped on her immediately, despite the relationship that had grown between them. It was almost like he had no capacity at the time to process anything other than what the situation required of him. In the series finale, we actually get to see him mourn the relationship and woman he had felt something for, even if it was severely delayed.

So, no, Derek isn't all better and, sure, it looks like he still has a long way to go, but progress is definitely being made.

Little by little, Derek is truly healing.

For once, Derek's future finally looks hopeful and I think that's something to smile about.

Derek Hale: Love, PTSD, and Maladaptive Daydreaming

I’ve seen quite a few posts on my dash talking about the scene at the end of The Divine Move, the finale for season 3b. Nearly all of them have been positive about the implications for Sterek, and even those which have not been positive have been focused on the lack of “real” Sterek and how that’s queer-baiting. Only one has been focused on what this sequence means for Derek, and although that post understood how sad it was, it didn’t explain why.

So let me explain why the finale’s dream sequence is not romantic, and it’s not queer-baiting either.

Derek Hale is consistently portrayed as a victim of abuse, and as having Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder. That’s a term bandied about in fandom a fair bit, although there are a lot of survivors in fandom so it’s usually treated with respect even when not well understood.

PTSD is commonly portrayed in a particular way in the media — namely the Rambo version, in which combat vets are hyper-vigilant and twitchy, can’t sleep, have anger management issues, disassociate (don’t feel their feelings or have a delay in feeling them), can’t make intimate connections with people, and so on.

However, this is only one experience of PTSD.

Derek Hale is the most convincingly written depiction of PTSD I’ve ever seen — even moreso than Rambo, Dean Winchester or Buffy Summers in seasons 6 and 7. It’s realistic because it’s not the stereotype, while still fitting all the medical criteria. It’s realistic because it’s the kind of trauma women and children commonly experience, rather than the macho “war vet” version. I wouldn’t be surprised if Davis knows someone with PTSD and knows them very well.

One of the things that breaks my heart most is that Derek’s PTSD is becoming worse as the seasons pass. That zen peacefulness he was demonstrating in 3b? Disassociation. The way he seems to just not hold grudges and let go of the bad things people do to him? Avoidance. The lack of furniture or a decent place to live? A disbelief that he will survive long enough for it to matter.

I could go on and on, but I won’t — it’s easy enough to Google information from reputable sources if you are interested. The point is, Derek is not getting better. He’s getting more traumatised, and his symptoms are getting worse.

In the finale, that “dream sequence” is actually a textbook example (albeit exaggerated for dramatic effect) of maladaptive daydreaming. This has various forms, but it’s commonly used as coping mechanism by traumatised children, which then extends into adulthood. In maladaptive daydreams, people escape to an idealised fantasy world where they have some control and support. The fantasy will often include an imaginary best friend who actually listens to, cares for, and guides them. In this kind of daydreaming, the person can immerse themselves, but always has some awareness that it’s a dream. In this respect, Derek’s fantasy is at the extreme end of the maladaptive dreaming spectrum, as its almost a full break from reality, but not quite.

It’s significant that Derek saw an idealised version of Stiles in his dissociative escape fantasy. But it’s not romantic. It’s so fucking far from romantic.

This is the desperate, lonely fantasy of a mind traumatised beyond endurance; someone needing a mental escape hatch in order to survive what they are experiencing, and reaching out for anything at all that will give comfort, without leaving them completely unaware of what’s going on around them. Think for a moment about how empty of comfort Derek’s life is that this is his escape fantasy. A somewhat sympathetic conversation with someone not actively trying to hurt him, in a cold, impersonal room. He’s so fucking traumatised, he can’t even imagine a fucking cuddle or a rescue for the few minutes the fantasy allows him to escape/process what’s actually happening. That would be too unbelievable and break the fantasy too soon.

As Teen Wolf is a fantasy-genre show, it’s possible that Stiles is somehow actually taking part in the dream Derek’s having. But whether that’s the case or not, what’s being depicted is a fictionalised version of a serious psychological condition.

I know we’re all hungry for Sterek. I get it, believe me I do. But this? Is not the romance you’re looking for.

This is exactly what I was predicting when I said any Sterek moments in the finale would be used to torture Derek emotionally. Stiles is an illusion of safety — safety Derek doesn’t have in reality in any sense — and a dream/wish for love which Kate will use against him if she gets any inkling of it.

The only good thing which can be said about this in terms of Sterek is that it’s not queer-baiting. Derek Hale is in love with the Stiles inside his head — dream!Stiles is his touchstone, his everything. He probably doesn’t even realise how much he’s come to rely on the happy memory of imaginary Stiles to help him through each day. He touches in with that day-dream world whenever he’s anxious, whenever things are out of control. A dozen times a day. A hundred. This is why he has been searching so desperately for real!Stiles all season, and it’s narratively why Derek couldn’t be allowed to find him.

It’s this day-dream of dream!Stiles that allows Derek to appear zen. It may be an imaginary relationship, but the feelings are real, intense and intimate to Derek. Make no mistake, he loves dream!Stiles and needs that touchstone to live. That is not hyperbole. A coping mechanism like that is what keeps someone living. Take it away, and they better have help or they will die.

Even if the relationship never exists outside of Derek’s head and is never reciprocated by real!Stiles, Derek is in love with dream!Stiles (quite possibly asexually, given the shape of Derek’s trauma). That’s now canon.

But look at the cost. If you have any understanding of PTSD, this is the saddest moment we’ve ever seen in Derek’s arc. Think about that for a minute, because I’m not exaggerating. The saddest, most traumatised moment we’ve seen.

This is the most realistic depiction of PTSD I’ve ever seen on TV.

It’s not romantic.

Derek is in love with Stiles. It’s canon. It’s not romantic.