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#( “HE MUST HAVE SNUCK IN HERE AND LEFT IT FOR ME” I AM CRYING
cruelprincae · 11 months
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I have so many feelings right now but all can be summarised to AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA
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drvscarlett · 6 months
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Let him cook
Charles Leclerc x Masterchef contestant!reader
Series Part: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6
A/N: Got this idea because the masterchef trophy is similar to the Australian GP trophy. This is going to be a series
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Charles_Leclerc posted a new photo
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liked by CarlosSainz55, PierreGasly, and 365,000 others.
Charles_Leclerc Add professional chef to the list
User1 aint no way you cooked this
User2 nice try Charles but we all saw that pasta video
CarlosSainz55 mate drop the # of the private chef you hired, these look delicious
Charles_Leclerc I told you that I made this myself CarlosSainz55 Lies!!!!
PierreGasly since when did you learn how to make coq au vin???
Charles_Leclerc not you too PierreGasly you should invite me sometimes so I can judge your cooking
Y/NCooks posted a photo
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YNCooks last date night before i enter masterchef australia. credits to the boyfriend for the lovely photos
Friend1 Y/N i know this is your dream for a while now. I hope you win. We will cheer for you our next masterchef australia!
YNCooks awww stop! ur making me cry
User1 OMG she is finally competing, goodluck Y/N!
User2 Y/N always talk about how its her dream to enter masterchef, I'm gonna watch it everyday and hope she wins it!
User3 Goodluck Y/N! I hope you become the next masterchef australia!!!
Mystery Box challenge episode
There was a building reputation in the kitchen that you are one of the strong homecooks of the season. After winning the past 2 mystery challenges, you were extremely determined to do well and seek for a third streak. The mystery box today was all about italian cooking, a cuisine that you have been comfortable due to the close ties of your boyfriend being signed to an Italian team.
"And what do we have here with you today Miss Y/N" Matt Preston asked as he approached the work table together with George Colambris "You seem rather comfortable and in your own zone. Its like an ordinary Tuesday date night"
You gave a small chuckle with that mention "That's actually pretty on point of you to say as Tuesday is my date night with the boyfriend"
"Ah so maybe that's why you are so inspired because you are in love"George teased.
"Well I have to admit that there is a little pressure to do well in this challenge or my boyfriend's family will get mad at me"you quipped back a reply.
The judges suddenly leaned a little interested to learn more about your personal life, "So your boyfriend is italian?"
"He is not but he might as well be. He spends a lot of time there"
"It must be hard to not see him a lot since you are here competing" Matt says
"It's a price we are willing to pay. He has been supportive of my dream as I am with him" you gave an encouraging smile as you continue to chop the sweet potatoes.
"We hope to meet that boyfriend of yours because he is one lucky man because that dish looks delicious!" George says before they left the station.
Somewhere in Bahrain, Charles Leclerc is grinning upon watching the replay of the episode. He was beyond proud of what you have achieved as a contestant in MasterChef. He wished that he could do more to express his support towards you but you have an agreement with him to keep things lowkey for the meantime. It was a reasonable decision as he didn't want to overshadow your career but it was nice to know that you two are a private thing but never a secret.
He was so engrossed to repeating the boyfriend clip that he didn't notice that Carlos snuck up beside him.
"What are you watching there?" Carlos asked his teammate
"Oh its nothing" Charles says as he immediately exited the Youtube app "I didn't notice you there, you scared me"
"If you weren't too into your phone then you would have noticed me calling you" Carlos explained "What are you watching on your phone that got you smiling like that?"
"Nothing, I just saw an ad"
"Hmm sure an ad" Carlos was pretty sure that Charles was watching MasterChef but he couldn't care anymore to ask which country because there was too many so he decided to just let it go "Cmon Fred is asking for us, were late for a meeting"
"Carlos! Why didn't you start with that?"
Cake challenge
You were exhausted because you spent the early hours of the morning watching the Jeddah GP. It was a thrilling race to see Charles bag his first podium of the season so you can say that its worth it. Besides, you were able to talk to him after the race so it sweetens the deal even more.
Filming begun for MasterChef and the judges brought out balloons for the mystery box challenge.
"Your challenge today is to make the most imaginative and creative birthday cake that you ever had" Gary explained "The pantry is filled with all the cake flavors you can ever imagine so be creative and show us what you've got"
Baking has never been your strongest suit. It was all about precision and measurements as small increments can make a huge difference. Today, you were determined to do well and you wanted to use the podium finish of Charles for the cake.
It was a struggle to bake the cake, cool it, and pipe it in under 60 minutes. You felt the pressure getting under your nerves as your hands started shaking when you were piping the cake details with 10 minutes left. There was a sigh of relief when you finished just 5 seconds away from the judges calling the time.
There were plenty of beautiful cakes in the room so it was a shocker for you that the judges called you in front to present your cake.
"Judges what I have for you today is a three layer cake with the raspberry,almond, and pistachio with chocolate to seperate the layers and a lemon buttercream frosting."
"You told us you can't bake, that seems like a lie" George says as he cuts through the cake "Look at that layers"
"The layers are actually inspired by the italian flag, its an homage to the boyfriend. Its actually a cake that I made thinking about him" you explained.
"That is simply gorgeous. The cake is very moist and the balance with the flavors is that its not too sweet or nothing overpowering. Your boyfriend is a lucky lucky lucky man to be baked a cake like this" George complimented.
"Does your boyfriend cook?"Matt asked as he took a bite
"Oh God no. I have to cook or else the kitchen will be on fire"you laughed "But I can't drive so maybe that's his payback"
"You seem to show the beautiful dynamics of your relationship when you cook something inspired by him. I wish you two the best" Matt's genuine comment was a heartwarming moment.
Its unfortunate that you didn't win this challenge but you were able to showcase your support for your boyfriend.
Melbourne GP meets MasterChef
This was another challenge as you were elected as a team captain for the second team challenge. You were extremely nervous when you were transported with your team mates from the blue kitchen to an unknown location. It was even more nerve-wracking after you've realized where you are.
"Welcome to the Albert Park where the Australian Grand Prix is underway for this weekend" Matt introduced "Your challenge is to prepare two dishes: a pasta and a fish dish to be served to the talented drivers in Formula 2"
There was a little sigh of relief as you were dealing with the Formula 2 drivers. It was a lot of weight on the shoulder if you will be serving food to your boyfriend.
"The practice sessions will be starting in a few minutes. You have 90 minutes to prepare your dish and an hour to serve them"
All you know was that you started organizing the team to put them in charge of the dishes that you will be making today. You cross your fingers that the color red brings luck to your team today.
Meanwhile, the paddock was buzzing with cameras and Charles immediately noticed that there were some new film crews around the Formula 2 drivers. His eyes did a double take after he recognized the face of three familiar judges he often sees on MasterChef Australia.
"What's going on? Isn't that MasterChef Australia judges?" Charles quizzed
"That's MasterChef Australia, they have this team challenges and they will be feeding the Formula 2 drivers" Silvia answered as she was informed earlier that morning about the extra exposure in the paddock today.
"Why Formula 2? Why not us?" Charles whined
"If you want then you could go ask Ollie for food" Silvia suggested
That sets a lightbulb moment for Charles as he excused himself to talk to the young driver. He will not miss the opportunity to taste the cooking of his secret girlfriend and support her in doing her craft.
It puzzled Ollie Bearman to see that Charles has been looking for him once the practice session was over. He was even more confused by his request.
"So you want me to get you food?" Ollie asked "Doesn't Ferrari have a catering?"
"Its not just food, its the MasterChef Australia food" Charles explained without giving out too much information "I just love the show okay?"
"You can come along, I'm sure they don't mind" Even better.
So here is why you were genuinely surprised to see that Charles Leclerc is walking inside the MasterChef tent with a red and blue plate in his hand. He was grinning wildly as if he was a kid on a sugar rush.
"Ohmygod we are serving food to Charles Leclerc!" one of your teammates whispered.
"Hi goodafternoon! What's the dish for today?" he asked politely.
"Well we have a pan fried cod with a pea puree and then some green grapes some fennel over there and then for the pasta lemon ricotta and beet tortellini" you answered as the team captain "We hope that its up your liking"
Charles gave you that smile that seems to light up the whole room, "I look forward to it, thanks!"
Its moments like this that you wish that you could reach out for him but you understand that its not yet the time. Its nice to see the support that you have for each other even though its all in private and away from the eyes of the media.
"Goodluck on your race Charles!"
There was a smile on both of your faces as you both continued to go chase your dreams.
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space-mango-company · 6 months
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Stranger | Chapter 4
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Chapter Links: [1], [2], [3], [4], [5]
TW: Mentions of Cannibalism, Choking
Tags: Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x Atreides!Reader, Arranged Marriage, Eventual Smut, POV Second Person, No use of y/n, Original Characters, Canon What Canon
Word Count: 1.4k
A/N: Ok, so clearly I'm a big fat liar. I'm sorry this chapter also took ages. I think I'm just a slow writer lmao. Anyway, it was fun writing this so I hope you guys enjoy it. As always, thanks for all the lovely comments I appreciate them a lot. Take care and have a good one!
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"Where is he?" you snarl as you march through the halls gripping Iassa's choker. "Where is the na-Baron?" Your voice a threat.
"He is doing his morning drills, my lady," Zora, your new servant chases after you, growing increasingly panicked, "he trains with the Warmaster."
You pick up your pace, "Take me to him." When Zora hesitates, you yell, "Now!"
When you arrive, Feyd-Rautha is sparring with who you assume to be the Harkonnen Warmaster in a shallow recessed pit in the center of the training room.
"Where is she?" you call from the doorway, your voice filled with vitriol.
Your unexpected presence catches Feyd-Rautha off-guard and his sparring partner manages to cut his right abdomen through his shield. He growls at the Warmaster and snaps his head to you, "I am preoccupied at the moment, my lady."
"Where is Iassa?" your glare pierces through him.
"Who?" he asks genuinely confused.
Your grip on the choker tightens, "Don't pretend. The servant girl assigned to me. You left this in my room, didn't you?" The realization he had snuck into your quarters while you were asleep quietly creeps on you. "What have you done with her."
"Ah," he tilts his head, ignoring his bleeding wound, "I thought about just cutting her tongue out." A smirk grows on his lips, "but my darlings were hungry."
It was only then you noticed his concubines in the room, lounging in a corner of pillows. Their sharp-toothed grins only stoked your fury.
You scoff in anger, "because she revealed your farce? Are you so insecure?"
Is cocky expression evolves into a glare. "Leave us," he orders, eyes staying on yours. Servants flood out of the room asking with the Warmaster but it seems his pets were exempt from this command. "Why do you cry for a girl you knew less than two days?"
He was right. Why do you care so much? You were hardly 'close' with Iassa. You've had servants on Caladan and you were never particular with any of them. Would you anger for them the same way? Why must you suddenly be a paragon of justice? And at the risk of the Harkonnens' contempt?
When you remain speechless, the na-Baron continues, "You may not be familiar with slaves but here, their death is inconsequential—save for the economics of it all."
"Is that so?" You look at his pets then back at him. Your breath is dragon-like and your tone hardens, "then relieve your concubines."
"What?" Feyd-Rautha's low voice echoes through the room. His concubines hiss at you from their raised platform.
You stand taller, shoulders back, still clutching Iassa's choker in your hand, "If I am to be your wife, I demand you take no other women."
He takes a moment to determine how serious you are being, then decides it doesn't matter. He walks up the steps surrounding the pit and you aren't given time to react before he has your neck in his grip. "You are in no place to demand such things, Atreides." His black gritted teeth at the last word match the darkness of his voice.
Your hands fly to claw at his wrist, "How dare you lay a hand on me." You struggle against his unrelenting grip, "Let go of me!"
He leans down to your ear, "You're a feisty one, aren't you, little hawk?" You feel his hold continue to tighten and panic rises in your chest. Before you can be rendered speechless, you make a decision.
"UNHAND ME."
The Voice echos from your mouth seizing Feyd-Rautha's mind and his hand releases your throat. As you gasp desperately for air, he attempts to recover from the haze of the mental intrusion. When he finds his bearings, you see the thrill in his dark eyes. Witch, you can almost hear him say.
"Aren't you just full of surprises," he smirks.
"And I will have many more," you say bitterly. Straightening your dress, you regain your self-assured stance and meet his eyes with a cold stare, "Be rid of your harpies before we are wed or I will kill them myself."
You don't spare his concubines a glance as you turn to leave. You don't see the way Feyd-Rautha looks at you, head tilted, as you storm off.
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You dismiss Zora and lock yourself in your chambers. Sprawled out on your bed, you stare up at the dark gray ceiling and question what could have possibly possessed you to challenge Feyd-Rautha the way you did. You go back and forth on whether or not it was an overreaction but eventually chalk it up to the Atreides' fiery defiance. Certainly, it wasn't the brightest decision but you sense that your father and brother would not have condemned it. Your heart is still pounding from the encounter. And the flicker in Fey-Rautha's eyes—you dismiss the idea that he might have enjoyed it.
You had hoped to hide your mother's training for longer. She had trained you and Paul in The Voice and Prana-Bindu. As a high-born lady, you could have been sent to a Bene Gesserit School in your formative years, but it was decided against due to Baron Vladimir's thinly veiled aversion to The Sisterhood. So, Lady Jessica resolved to teach you in secret. You were grateful for it anyway as you didn't have to be separated from your family. You think about how your mother would be able to continue to train Paul without you. You had always been more adept at The Voice than him. Now, he has the opportunity to surpass you. The thought triggers your competitiveness against your sibling but the feeling quickly melts into melancholy. You miss him. You miss all of them.
Is this to be your life? Married to a twisted psycho who feeds his concubines human flesh and kills people you care about? You sit up and place Iassa's choker carefully in the drawer of your nightstand. You hoped she didn't fear you as she did the Harkonnens.
Your thoughts are interrupted by a knock at the door. You had really hoped no one would bother you for the rest of the day but then you feel the emptiness in your stomach. You had skipped breakfast that day to confront the na-Baron. When you open the door, Zora is holding a covered tray which you assumed, and hoped, to be lunch.
"Would my lady like to eat in solitude?" she asks after she sets your meal at the small table in your quarters. Your heart sinks. She is so young.
"Ah no, I would like you to stay if that's alright." You sit at your table and cut into your food while Zora stands politely to the side. "I'm sorry for yelling at you earlier. The na-Baron—my fiancé—he has caused me some aggravation."
"It is quite alright, my lady," she says, her head bowed low.
After your meal, you ask Zora to fetch you various projections on the planet of Giedi Prime from the Harkonnen archives. You were hesitant to make the request considering the fate of your last servant but you hoped you managed to convince Feyd-Rautha you were not to be trifled with. Besides, what harm could you do by learning about flora and fauna.
You spent the rest of the day watching informative holograms about your new home's ecology and biodiversity. Apparently, one of the planet's greatest exports is wood from the Pilingitam tree which is prized for its pliability when freshly cut but sturdy hardness once aged and dried. It was also anti-fungal and naturally fire-resistant. It was a surprise you didn't see much of it. Everything in the fortress was cold stone and concrete. You wonder how beautiful furniture made out of Pilingitam must be when carved by a skilled artist.
That night, you make sure to lock your door and fall asleep to images of sprawling landscapes.
The following day was similarly spent, watching projections about Giedi Prime's geographical features. You were left undisturbed save for Zora's quiet knocks on your door to serve your meals. Your life as a baroness is days away so you might as well educate yourself. Although, you suppose you should probably focus on politics and history more than the planet's Obsidian Planes but you weren't really in the mood to learn of the Harkonnens' gruesome past right now. You would cross that bridge when you got there.
Come evening, you hear an unfamiliar knock at your door. Zora had already brought you dinner earlier so you are wary as you crack open the door.
"Hello, little hawk." Feyd-Rautha's tall figure looms past the doorway.
You stare him down, making no move to let him in.
He tilts his head slightly, "Would you really kill my darlings?"
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Chapter Links: [1], [2], [3], [4], [5]
Taglist: @torchbearerkyle @austinswhitewolf @dreamlandcreations @emeraldsgirl @strawberryfieldsforevermore @bornslippys @vexis-world @aoi-targaryen @alexandrainlove
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Unexpected 51
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Warnings: non/dubcon, pregnancy, pegging, Lloyd being the worst, post partum, csection, suicidial ideation, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.
My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.
As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.
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Trapped in another holding pattern. That's all that life seems to be. Phases. Dull and prolonged. Waiting but for what?
Your days aren't much different than before Lloyd's return. He may as well have stayed gone. For you, he's not there. He's nothing. He doesn't deserve to be anything to you.
Your routine once more stagnates; sleep and feedings and some crying. Between it all, you see Harlan or Dottie, sometimes both. Your mother-in-law has grown quiet, even evasive, since her son came back. You know why but you won't argue with her or her precious Marion.
You get your walks in, looking forward to the escape from the suffocating walls. Andy passes you often, waving or saying hi. He doesn't try to talk again, not with your father around. They barely acknowledge each other. You ignore his texts. You're still trying to figure it all out.
When you're at home, Harlan holds Luna as you catch up on your reality TV. You whisper back and forth about your most hated personalities. It can never be what it once was, or what you wished it could be, but it's manageable.
That day, Harlan and Dottie go into town to do some shopping. You haven't seen Lloyd but you don't mourn his absence. Not like before.
You have Luna downstairs in her rolling bassinet. She's fully fed and sleepy. You might do some cooking. You're finally feeling up to it.
You shiver and watch your daughter dozing peacefully. Why is it so cold in here? You hug yourself and notice the draft freezing in from the kitchen. You find one of the french doors slightly open and push it shut. You can guess who did it. You should lock him out but you'd rather not provoke a confrontation.
You go back to the front room. Something feels off. You don't know. Maybe it's just the empty house. You check the thermostat then the bassinet. Luna is tucked against the side. She must feel it too.
You make sure the wheels are locked before you flit out to grab a quilt from the nursery. You pant as you get to the top of the stairs. Whew, you still got work to do before you're anywhere close to back to normal.
You snatch the sewn pink blanket and come back down, catching your breath as you sweep through the doorway.
“Lulu,” you say quietly, “gonna swaddle you up–”
You notice the angle of the bassinet. It's not how you left it, almost parallel to the sofa instead. You rush over and nearly scream as the bottom stares back at you empty.
You drop the quilt and spin, searching for any sign of the culprit. You storm back into the foyer and stomp a foot.
“Lloyd!” You bellow, not caring if you wake the babe, “where the fuck are you? Give me my baby!”
Nothing. Just the echo of your anger. You snarl and holler again. Louder.
“LLOYD! I'M NOT FUCKING AROUND!”
You stride forward and go down the hall. Not in the kitchen. Nope, not in the dining room either. You go through the first floor, yelling, then ascend the stairs again. There's no way he could've snuck her up there.
“You motherfucker. Lloyd!” You stop at the top, “it's not fucking funny.”
“Jesus Christ!” You hear a door swing open, then another as he comes out of his bedroom, “what is it now? Wanna call me more names? Push me around?”
He has a towel clutched around his waist as his feet slap on the floor. He glistens, his hair slick and dripping the noise of the shower still buzzing. You gulp and your heart drops.
“Lloyd, give her back.”
“What?”
“Don't. Give me Luna.”
“Luna–” he grimaces, “what the fuck? You serious? You won't let me see her and now– wait, where is she?”
You stand silent in horror. He's a loar to the bone but dammit, he's convincing.
“You took her. I know… I went to get her a blanket and you…”
“I've been in the shower for twenty minutes, sweetheart,” he sneers, “I… she's… gone?”
You croak. It's all you can do. You spin and hurtle back downstairs. You near the bassinet again and squeal. Gripping the sides as panic floods your chest.
“She's gone! Lloyd! My baby! Where is she?!”
You hear him come downstairs and his footsteps rush across the floor, searching everywhere you did. He appears from the kitchen, barely hanging onto his towel. You look at him as he stares at you palely.
“The back door was unlocked.”
“I know, I thought you were out there–”
“Peaches,” he utters as his eyes dilate, “call the police.”
🍑
You're still sobbing as the red and blue flash on the other side of the window. You told the story a dozen times over. It's 2am and you haven't seen Luna in thirteen hours. You feel her absence heavy in your chest.
Your baby. You failed her. She's gone and it's all your fault.
Why didn't you just take her upstairs? Why did you want to cook? Why weren't you watching her? Why didn't you lock the goddamn door?
“Honey,” Harlan clinks down a mug and his weight dips beside you on the couch, “they'll find her. She can't have gone far.”
“No, no, no,” you bawl, head throbbing, “someone took her. Someone– it's all my fault–”
“Shhh, shhh, it's alright. It'll be alright. She got everyone lookin’, they'll find her.”
“I fucked up!” You fold over your lap, “I was selfish--c-c-carlessssss.”
He hushes you again and rubs your back. You can hear the police milling around outside, a few inside still investigating every nook and cranny.
“Ma'am,” an officer approaches, “we're doing what we can but these things can take a while. You know, we got a few volunteers from the neighborhood too and some statements–”
“I don't care! I want my daughter back,” you snap.
“Sorry, officer, she's just…scared,” Harlan slings his arm over your shoulders.
“Understood,” the officer says, “we're doing all we can.”
You sniffle and bury your face in your palms. This can't be real. It is and it's all on you. You wished so many times that Luna would just go away, you didn't want her, you remember that, and now that wish came true. You are a monster.
“Breathe,” Harlan coos as your breath turns shallow and suffocating, “honey, please, you needa–”
“Let me look!” You sit up, so dizzy you nearly keel over, “I wanna look for her.”
“Dear, you already did. You needa rest.”
“No, no!” You shove him away and stand, slippers slapping as you stomp around the couch, “she's my baby, I can find her! I know I will.”
“You won't help. Lloyd's already out there–” Harlan calls after you as he follows.
You hurry through the entryway and burst out the front door. You hear your father swearing as he scrambles for his shoes. The snow crunches under your thin soles as you jog past the cruisers and the uniformed figures.
You turn down the street without a thought. The streetlights flash over you, yellow, then darkness, yellow, dark…. You don't know where you're going. Maybe you want to disappear too.
You hear Harlan calling your name but he's getting further away, not closer. You slow down and cough, lungs burning. You lean on a fence post and bend to collect yourself.
“What are you doing out here?” A drawl brings you straight up.
You squint. You think it's Lloyd at first, you haven't seen him since the police got there. Andy steps into the soft hue of the lightpole.
“I… what are you doing?” You throw the question back at Andy.
“I'm a volunteer firefighter. Heard there was a missing baby so I've been helping. I'm sorry to hear about Luna. I don't know who would do this.”
You shake your head and snivel, “I don't know.”
“I know what it's like to lose a child but… I think… she's out there. It'll be okay. You'll see her again, I know it.”
“I hope,” your voice cracks and wipes your eyes as your grief spills anew, “I should go back.”
He says nothing. You back away and turn, dragging your feet down the pavement. You see the sirens lit up and the distant beans of flashlights. Suddenly, you're caught around the neck, a hand smothering your mouth.
“Do you wanna see her?” Andy whispers as you kick out, “Luna needs her mommy…” he wrestles you out of the cone of light and behind the fence, “so do I.”
You thrash, clawing at his sleeve. Your slippers fly off in your struggle as he squeezes tighter. No, it can't be him.
You were wrong. Again.
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brotherwtf · 1 month
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I’m not sure if you take random self made prompts from anons but I thought I’d ask anyways because I love your work :) with the olympics ending I was wondering if you’d considering writing a sweet moment between the buckies to “where’s the trophy? he just comes running over to me”! Honestly doesn’t even have to be olympics based, because John Egan your 2 o’clock is pretty much that entire lyric but if it inspires you I’d love to see famous/semi famous Clegan running to one another as the crowd watches on!🥰🥹
of course I do!! honestly if y'all just want to send random ramblings in my inbox I am glad to just listen to y'all yap ;))
I have a couple of Olympics hcs here, but I've been wanting to write a drabble for it!!
----
John sat on the side of the rink with his hands clenched on his lap, watching as Gale gracefully slid onto the ice and took his place for the beginning of the routine. He watches as Gale's jaw clenched, exhaling a breath before returning to his starting position, arms poised above his head.
The music starts, and John's heartbeat quickens, watching as Gale gracefully slid across the ice. The music was a tormented tune, something rough and carnal, but nevertheless beautiful in the end, and John was completely enraptured with Gale. He mastered the first jump, something with a kick and a twirl in the air all while John's breath stopped when he left the ice.
The music swelled into something jagged and tortured and John knew this was the biggest jump Gale was going to do in the entire routine, also knew that this was where he had struggled during practice. He could see Gale's eyebrows furrow as he glided into position, poising his skates so he could flick him up into the jump.
John clenches his snow pants, too concerned about missing Gale's event to even discard them in the locker room after his event.
The world seems to slow as Gale's skate kicks up on the ice, sending him into a perfect spiral in the air. John holds his breath, gripping his snow pants so hard he might just rip them, and then Gale lands.
He lands perfectly, kicking his leg out behind him and extending his arms, and John can see the grin spread on Gale's face when he's realized he's done it.
John jumps up with the crowd, realizes they're all cheering and screaming for Gale, and he almost starts to cry from how fucking proud of him he is. The rest of the routine is a blur, but John cheers and claps and shouts the entire time until Gale stops in the middle of the ice again, panting and smiling the biggest smile John has ever seen.
Technically, John wasn't even supposed to be in the rink. He had snuck in behind someone's coach and was sitting on the sidelines, cheering Gale on. He definitely wasn't allowed on the ice, but he found himself slipping onto it when Gale's routine ended.
People were throwing things onto the rink, flowers, stuffed animals, pictures, but John was only focused on getting to Gale, had his eyes honed in on him in the middle of the rink. He couldn't move very fast, he was slipping on the ice every other step, but when Gale saw him it was all worth it.
His eyes are glassy and his mouth splits into the happiest smile John has ever seen on him. He's holding a bouquet of roses that someone threw onto the ice and he skates towards John gracefully, a very different picture to how John must look bumbling on the ice towards Gale.
John embraces him in a firm hug, tries to keep his footing and not fall face first onto the ice below him, and loves the feeling of Gale hugging him back. He doesn't realize they're laughing until Gale pulls away from the hug and looks in John's eyes, face crinkled into a smile with tears welling over his eyes. John doesn't even think before he kisses him, forgets they're in front of a crowd of people.
Gale kisses him back with enthusiasm, wrapping his arms around John's shoulders with the roses in his hands and pulling him in closer. John loses himself so much in Gale's lips that he doesn't realize when he's starting to lose his footing and he's dragging Gale down onto the ice beneath them.
They fall roughly, but Gale is still laughing and smiling below John, taking one of his hands from around his shoulders and cupping his cheek. John almost forgets they're in an ice rink until he hears the cheers and laughter from the audience, and he's pulled from his moment with Gale.
Gale, professionally John must admit, pulls John up from the ice and waves at the crowd, blowing kisses and bowing, planting a comically large kiss on John's cheek which makes John grin from ear to ear. He hooks John onto his arm and skates to the edge of the rink, helping John onto the ground before following him out.
John's so giddy he kisses Gale again when his coach comes over, laughing big and bright because he's so fucking proud of Gale, can't even begin to express it with words.
And when Gale wins the gold medal, near perfect score for his routine, John kisses him again, grabbing the backs of Gales thighs and lifting him up. He spins him around, kissing him and laughing and just so fucking happy, feels the joy that Gale must feel by the way he kisses him back with such intensity and fervor that John feels like he might fall over.
Back in their shitty beds in the shitty rooms at the shitty Olympic Village, they may or may not have some banging sex with both of their gold medals hanging from their necks.
lmk if y'all want to see more from this au! I kinda forgot about this one it got a little buried lmao
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deliontower · 9 months
Note
could you do a Sejanus angst fic where he finds out snow betrayed him instead of being hanged and the reader comforts him (heavy angst, heavy hurt comfort)
take me to the lakes | s.p
pairing: sejanus x covey!gn!reader
warnings: heavy angst, hurt comfort, fluff, swearing and spoilers of both movie and book
word count: 560
a/n: Thank you for the request! I hope you enjoy it, I love sejanus getting a happy ending. Sorry it took so long to get this done :( had a busy few weeks then I just wanted to enjoy Christmas with my family. Not that happy with this but I think it has something to it :/
Also added this request: an au of where Sejanus lives instead of dies but finds out coryo betrayed him (his only true friend betrayed him and left him heartbroken/extremely hurt) so he goes home and seeks comfort from burning that photo of him and snow (kind of inspired by the song burn from Hamilton) but he burns the photo and then sobs his poor heart out
MAIN MASTERLIST | REQUEST OPEN
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Sejanus had appeared at your door, in the middle of the night. His face dark and stormy. 
The rest of the covey were still fast asleep, when you snuck out and headed to the lake together. Sejanus wanted to be alone and only there would you be away from hearing ears. 
The sky was a light pink by the time you reached the lake, he still hadn’t said anything but the storm had passed leaving only hurt. Theories spun in your head, had someone died? His Ma? Was he being sent away? You touched his arm, “What’s wrong?”.
He looked around, making sure no one was hiding in the trees. “Love” you whispered, hoping to pull him back to you.
He uttered your name. 
You half pulled him into the last house that remained and built a fire, you made him sit close by, he must be in shock you thought. Tears started to fall, panicked you hugged him, his head in the crook of your neck.
“What happened?” you asked.
“Coryo-” he swallowed, “He betrayed me”. 
You inhaled a sharp breath, the plan, the rebel plan. 
A plan you were a key part of, it would break the others heart, working with Billy Taupe but you couldn’t live one more day in 12 and you knew if the others had the same chance they’d jump on it.
“Oh love” you sighed, holding him tighter. Coryo was like a brother to Sejanus, this betrayal would run deep. You pulled apart, then you noticed the crumbled picture in his hands, of him and Coryo from their school days. 
“What am I going to do?” he asked hopelessly. You felt yourself crying, “I don’t know but I do know he has never deserved you or your friendship”. 
You had never been a fan of Coryo, even after Lucy Gray  came home and told you how he had saved her. The night he had watched her sing at the Hob, it was like he owned her, your blood ran cold thinking about it. 
Another night at the Hob after you and Sejanus had started to fall in love, Coryo had said something about them all being above the people of the 12. He and Sejanus Capital men and you and Lucy Gray were Covey. 
Once he and Lucy Gray left, the two of you, you learnt close to Sejanus and said, “Be careful of that one, love.  He’ll do what it takes to survive”.  He had shook it off, assuring Coyro wasn’t like that and at the time you chose to believe him.
“You have to stay here and I’ll tell the others to bring the plan forward” you said, the plan coming together in your mind, “and I’m gonna tell Lucy Gray what he has done”.  He nods meekly, the picture shaking in his hand. Then in a blink he straightens up, “I thought he was different”. “I know love” you sighed. “But he is just like the rest of them” he muttered, then he threw the picture into the wild flames and burned the picture, first the edges curled up melting then the flame engulfed it fully. The air smells like smoke and chemicals, the wild batted against the building.
You could feel the heat from the fire in your chest, it spread through your limbs to your fingertips.
“He won’t get anyway with this”    
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angelyuji · 1 year
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born to die
morpheus x reader
warnings: slight yandere themes if you really really really look, death, reincarnation, diy abortion, pregancy (for a little while)
one day, you died. and then, you came back. one minute you were a grown woman and the next, in the body of a little boy. it never hurt to die, but you always remember. you remember everything. it left you disoriented the first time, coming back. you felt scared, always crying, screaming for your lost family, but soon it became too tiring. too exhausting to mourn for people you had loved, too exhausting to love and know you’ll never spend eternity with them. it was your own damn fault, of course, not realizing what you had agreed to.
“what are you doing here?” silence filled your apartment as you stare at the man in front of you.
“i felt your yearn for me.” Morpheus says, gently. he moves towards you. instinctively, you take a step back. your back presses against the wall.
“i- i don’t know what you’re talking about. you’re not real. i’m just dreaming.” he steps closer to you, only inches away now.
“my dove,” Morpheus carcasses your check with a cold hand. you lean into it. “i am no dream. i’m back… for you.”
“no, Morpheus. we can’t.” you press your eyes closed as tears well. you love him, but the gods have said that a mortal and an endless don’t belong, their story always ends in heartbreak. he had told you himself when you had met for the first time.
it was your first life. the beginning. you were once royalty, you bathed in wealth and riches. your father, the duke, spoiled you rotten and your mother, although strict, always gave you what you wanted. no matter what you asked. so, you’ve never wanted to love or romance. what was the need for temporary feelings when you can fill your heart with gold.
“magician, why have you requested the audience of the duke?” your father’s chamberlain questioned. a man stood before him, dressed in black from head to toe. he adorned a cloak that shimmered as it moved, and with the right angle, you could see glittering stars and galaxies on the inside. a strange aura surrounded him, you couldn’t feel any magic like from magicians you have met before, but there was something about him you couldn’t place. he says something in response, but you couldn’t hear. his voice was quiet, but it felt like the ground rumbled as he spoke. you shake your head, believing you must have lost your mind.
“boo.” someone whispers into your ear. you jump and turn in surprise. your handmaiden laughs loudly at your display. you quickly cover her mouth.
“shh! i’m watching the new magician!” you whisper, you turn back and your handmaiden peeks over your shoulder to watch the magician walk through the doors. he pauses, you both still, he turns and you see him. he was… beautiful. you had never seen a man so alluring. his eyes meet yours; your heart feels like it has stopped. his eyes swirl with different colors, it reminds you of the night sky. his face betrays no emotion as he tilts his head and examines you, but you can feel his gaze soften. he turns back and walks into the great hall.
you don’t see him after that, not for a couple days. in those days, you felt a strange emptiness. you had never felt such longing before. you’re not sure what to make of it. you fill this emptiness by going out, buying beautiful dresses and jewelry, but nothing worked. you stand at your balcony, leaning your head against your arm, your ache weighing you down. you watch the sky darken and watch the trees sway in the light wind. suddenly, you see something in the garden, someone. your ache disappears, replaced with giddiness. you pulled on a coat over your nightdress and snuck outside, carefully avoiding the servants and guards. you make your way to the garden and see your mysterious magician sitting at a bench, facing the roses. you quietly come and sit next to him. neither one of you say anything, content to sit in each other’s company.
“i had requested for these roses to be planted.” you say, keeping your eyes on the red roses. you remember when you had asked for the garden to be made. it was your 15th birthday, you had made a passing comment about how a garden would look nice outside your room and by the next week, your parents had started planting and building. you smile, reminiscing your childhood. he hums, you could feel the vibrations of his voice in your chest.
“it’s beautiful.” his voice was deep, elegant. it was soothing. every ache, every pain, every awful feeling you had when you hadn’t seen him, it washed away. you let out a small breath.
“your voice is very beautiful.” you say, looking at him. he looks at you, a small smile dances across his lips. you smile back, “has my father appointed you as our mage?” you turn back towards the roses.
“perhaps.” his voice was traced with mirth and you grin.
“you’re very mysterious, magician, i’m sure i’ll see you again.”
“i’m sure you will, my lady.”
soon months passed and you fell in love, your magician had told you his name was draumey, seemed to fall in love with you as well. he came to you every night, in wake and in sleep. the two of you talked for hours. he would soon confess his true identity, Morpheus, lord of the dreaming.
“i don’t understand, why can’t we be together?” he shakes his head, his annoyance obvious on his face.
“mortals and endless cannot be together, (y/n).” he states with finality. tears stream down your face, and Morpheus turns away from you, unable to watch as his lover crumbles. “it ends in a tragedy, it was foretold in the beginning of everything.” Morpheus tries to explain to you, but you break down into sobs. his face was wracked with guilt, he only turns to leave, but you call out to him.
“please, my love, stay with me, for one final night.” Morpheus doesn’t answer, “please give me one last moment with you.” you beg. Morpheus turns back to you, silent. his eyes, filled with stars, search your face. in one quick moment, your face is in his hands and his lips on your lips. desperation was in every kiss, searing and steaming. you could feel every ounce of guilt and sadness in him. you kissed him back, needing to make him remember you. his hands move to your back, quickly undoing your lace. with in seconds, your clothes were on the floor and your body was in his hands.
by morning, Morpheus had left, leaving only a rose where he had laid next to you. as soon as he was gone, the ache was back. but soon, you learned that you were with child. the ache you had felt was gone, but dread replaced it. fear for your child and fear of the tragedy that Morpheus had warned you about. your handmaiden was sworn to secrecy, fearing your parents’ reaction. but as soon as you found out, your life ends.
you stood at your balcony, one hand on your stomach. your thoughts full of your love.
“hello.” a sultry voice sounds from behind you. you turn and the most beautiful person stands in front of you. their hair black and lips a deep red. they hum, you feel the vibrations in your chest.
you gasp, “you’re like Morpheus!” your eyes widen.
they chuckle, “he told you, hasn’t he.” they start laughing, loud and menacing. “oh, he truly loved you.” you feel fear trickle down your spine. “oh sweetheart… don’t be scared.” they smile, wide and evil. “i’m here to help you with that ‘thing’ in your belly.”
your eyes grow wide and your hand goes back down to your stomach, protective, “what? there- there is no need for that.” they pout.
“oh, but there is.” they flick their wrist and you’re falling. the balcony was built with your safety in mind, this shouldn’t be happening. you scream, but soon, you’re looking down at your mangled corpse. blood flowing from your head and- “my baby…” you feel the wind get knocked out of you. you watch as your parents run to your body, screaming. a hand rests on your shoulder.
“hello, love.” calmness washes over you. you turn to look at the stranger. she felt similar to him, to your Morpheus. “ah, you must be my brother’s lover.” she smiles, warmly.
“i didn’t- i don’t know what to do… i miss him.” tears run down your face. she wipes your face.
“i can help you, but there are great costs.” she looked at you with worry. “once i do this for you, there is no turning back, (y/n). you will never be rid of this curse.”
“i don’t care… please… help me.” you feel the loss of your love, and then your child weighing on your heart. she sighed and nodded, and with a snap of her fingers, you were born again.
you push away his hand from your face. “i need you to leave, Morpheus.” you stand firm, wiping away your useless tears. you’ve survived decades of love and heartbreak, life and death. you will not lose yourself in love again. you will not lose yourself in him.
“you love me, i know it, (y/n).” Morpheus smiles. you grit your teeth.
“i don’t love you.” even you couldn’t believe your half-hearted lie, but you couldn’t risk it. Morpheus’s smile drops. you see the man that left you once more. Morpheus backs away.
“i do not believe you, and when you’re ready to listen to me, i shall find you, my dove.” he turns away, cold.
your stomach drops and fear twists your face, “no, Morpheus. don’t do this, please. please i can’t-” he snaps his finger, and once more, you are born again.
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robinewe · 2 months
Text
The Glass Slippers Part 2
A Gothic Cinderella Ghost Story
Part 1
The prince waited at the end of the entrance hall to greet the guests as they arrived. Each lady was introduced by the sound of trumpets, proceeded across the ballroom, and presented themselves to the prince. He kissed each one’s hand, politely smiled, and welcomed them to the ball. No names were exchanged, and every guest wore a mask over her eyes. Even so, the prince could tell that none of them were the girl he was waiting for, every time the trumpets sounded and a new lady made her way across the room.
She must have snuck in while he was otherwise distracted. One moment he couldn’t see her anywhere among the crowd, the next he turned his head and she appeared. She wore a silver mask over her eyes, but the way she reflected light around her and her pale hair, arms, and neck were nearly glowing was unmistakable. Her dress shimmered with each shift of light while she moved through the room, timid and light on her feet, which were covered in dainty glass shoes that made a pleasing noise against the tile.
Now that he’d spotted her he couldn’t tear his eyes away. He started towards her, hearing his father exclaim behind him, “Son! What are you doing?” the steward quickly after, “Where are you going, my prince?”
“I’m going to join the dancing,” the prince said over his shoulder. His father grinned, pleased, while the steward sighed with relief.
People stopped and stared as he passed. He was the only attendant without a mask, as it was pointless to hide who he was. The ball was in his honor, everyone knew who he was. But the ladies were supposed to be on equal footing while competing for his hand, with their faces hidden.
He reached the girl, standing out like a diamond among roses, and a circle cleared around the two. Cinderella watched him while he approached, and he met her eyes behind her mask. “May I have this dance?” he asked, extending his hand and bowing low in front of her.
The room was silent and still for a moment before she took his hand, and then the orchestra swept into a romantic waltz. The prince pulled Cinderella closer, and wrapped his other arm around the small of her back, giving her a smile. He led her in the dance, pushing and pulling her along with him, so graceful as her feet glided across the floor. She let out a nervous laugh, enjoying herself despite all of the eyes on her. She felt like she was floating, somewhere only she and this boy existed. Nothing, not anything that had happened to her in her life before, could touch her here.
***
Finally, both of them dizzy and tired, the prince led her outside to breathe in fresh air by the gardens. They left the guests tittering and gossiping behind their hands. Sitting down together, he gently tugged off her mask. Her face shone like the moon, revealed from behind clouds. But her brows were furrowed, and she looked worried. A shadow over the moon.
“What is the matter?” he asked.
She looked down at her hands in her lap, twisting diamond rings around her fingers. “I can’t help but think. What do you see in me?”
He plucked a strand of hair between his fingers, putting it behind her ear. “You’re absolutely radiant,” he said. She shook her head.
“But you’ve seen who I really am.”
“Who you really are?”
“A filthy kitchen maid. I’m not a princess, no matter how I look now.” She curled both her hands into fists. “I should never have left home. I don’t deserve to be here.”
She made as if to stand up, but Channing grabbed her arm. “No, please, stay! You can live here, with me, and you won’t have to go back to that life ever again!”
“Why me?” she asked fiercely.
“Because my father is forcing me to marry, and I think I’ve fallen in love with you!” He realized his grip on her arm had grown rather tight. He let go of her, and quickly stepped away, in case he had made her afraid of him. She stared at him in shock, and he continued, “And… I want to help you. I don’t want to see you cry ever again. I saw you underneath the willow tree and I couldn’t stand it. I thought my heart would break.”
She was crying now, in fact, and he carefully stepped towards her, slowly extending his hand until he could brush away her tears with a finger.
The clock chime startled both of them, and he jerked his hand back to himself. It began its long series of rings, twelve of them as it counted down to midnight.
Cinderella’s face had drained of color completely, white as a corpse as she stared with wide, dark eyes. “She’ll punish me,” she said, trembling, and then she turned and took off.
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Stolen.- A good omens oneshot.
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It was an ordinary evening for Crowley, he was speeding around in his Bentley. Well, it was ordinary until he was nearing close to the house wrapped in police tape with cars dotted out the front.
Normally in these situations, Crowley wouldn't care and he would just drive on past as it was a mortal issue but this time it felt different so he felt the need to park early and walk the rest of the way home.
There was without a doubt some sort of commotion occurring and quite a fair bit of suspicion around the house. Crowley's nose twitched as it smelt the air. There was some sort of good deed that had occurred here. That was odd. As a demon, he was supposed to change it and make it a bad thing but his inquisitiveness got the better of him and he snuck under the tape and through the back door.
In the room he entered sat, five police officers, what appeared to be an angry couple and a distraught angel holding a baby.
That wasn't any angel though, it was Crowley's angel. Aziraphale.
"Hello there I am Crowley, Aziraphale's lawyer what seems to be the problem?" He asked trying to sound confident despite how horrific the situation looked at a glance.
One of the officers stood up shook Crowley's hand and said, "It is good you are here we will explain everything to you from the start please take a seat."
"So you Aziraphale you will start the explanation and then we will hear the couple's side of the story and then decide a suitable action." A different officer informed them.
Aziraphale wiped a tear away which hurt Crowley slightly, he shouldn't feel guilty about this. "Well, I was walking to go and visit one of my friends as a surprise when I heard a baby crying. I thought it would be fine if I just continued to go past. But the cries got louder and I began to fear that something bad might be happening to it. So I followed the sound and it lead me to the house, I knocked on the door in case of distracting whoever could possibly be harming the child but no one answered. This only worried me more, so I pushed the door and it opened, so I followed the cries and found the baby stuck under a wardrobe that had somehow fallen. And that was when the parents came in."
Crowley had to resist smiling to himself about how Aziraphale was planning to surprise him.
The couple sighed almost in time, the female spoke, "Well we were going out for a date night and dinner and we left around six knowing we would be back by nine and that he would be sleeping the whole time we were out and then we returned and there was a random man holding our child." With that, the father grabbed the baby of Aziraphale and the baby started sobbing.
The demon had the perfect chance to step in and defend Aziraphale, "You are telling us, you left a baby unattended with the door unlocked and then when you got back you just phoned the police?"
"Yes." answered the father without thinking much.
"You left a BABY UNATTENDED FOR HOURS," Crowley repeated.
The Police department members smiled a knowing grin to one another whilst the baby continued to sob.
The mother stepped in realising what Crowley was emphasising and interrupted with "Well why does he happen to have a lawyer then? He must have done things in the past."
"That is highly confidential between me and my client and none of your business." Crowley was alarming himself with how well he was doing at being a lawyer, he also noticed Aziraphale was smiling again.
The father inhaled, "We need to know why he has a lawyer before we continue."
"Ok, if you must know he was being blackmailed and needed someone to help him. Besides if Aziraphale was to steal anything it is that he steals people's hearts and if you actually let him speak you would see that he is lovely and wouldn't hurt a soul. I could tell you he cried for an hour when he stepped on a fly would that change your minds?" Crowley said.
Aziraphale blushed, Crowley was being sweet and was saving him. It was an occurrence that happened a bit too often but this one was different. This one was special.
The officers stood up and one of them grinned, "Right Aziraphale and this lawyer feel free to go and we will talk to the parents."
"Thank you," Was all Aziraphale could release.
Crowley directed him to the Bentley where Aziraphale sat in a frozen-like state. It was a misbelief that Crowley did and said all that but also that such a child would have to live with parents like that.
Aziraphale smiled weakly as Crowley rubbed his back, "Thank you, Crowley, now what do we do."
"I think I will drive you to mine and you can just relax for a bit giving that was quite a lot to deal with." the demon declared the kindness of Aziraphale rubbing off on him.
The angel nodded "Let's do that then."
Crowley began to drive down the road, Queen on the piano was coming out of his speakers and he was driving fairly slow.
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spencermyangel · 2 years
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could you do spencer confronting his dad about sexually abusing him as a kid with moreid?
CW - CSA
Spencer opened the door, freezing in shock when he saw his father standing there. Spencer’s heart rate picked up and he clenched a fist at his side.
“Spencer,” William said, “I came to see you.” Spencer didn’t respond, staring straight ahead, past his father.
“Spencer?”
“Hey, who’s at the door, pretty boy?” Spencer heard Morgan’s voice beside him but he still didn’t react. Morgan’s eyes hardened when he noticed Spencer’s father standing in the doorway. 
“What are you doing here?” he almost growled at him.
William’s eyes shifted nervously, “I just wanted to talk to Spencer. After what happened last time we saw each other I thought maybe we could…”
“We could what?” Spencer sharply interrupted him, “make up? Have a relationship?” 
William nodded, “yes, I apologised. I thought now we could work on repairing our relationship.” 
Morgan eyed his boyfriend, who was glaring daggers at his father, “you thought you could apologise and it would be okay? That’s not something you can apologise for, it’s not something you can ever make up for.” Spencer hissed at him. 
William got a nervous look on his face and opened his mouth to respond, but was cut off by Morgan, “How about we discuss this inside?” he offered. William nodded in agreement, Spencer looked as though he wanted to protest but didn’t. 
When they stood in the living room, the tension causing no one to take a seat, William continued, “Spencer, I am sorry and I would like to be in your life.” 
Spencer scoffed, “Why? So you can brag about your genius son to all of your friends?” Spencer caught the guilty shift in William’s eyes, but Morgan didn’t. 
Spencer flinched as Morgan placed a hand on his shoulder, “maybe you should listen to what he has to say?” Morgan suggested. 
Spencer’s eyes flashed with hurt and betrayal, “It doesn't matter what he has to say, it won’t change anything. It won’t change the suffering he caused.”
“I know things must have been hard after I lef-”
“No!” Spencer interrupted, “they were better after you left.” Morgan furrowed his brows in confusion at that, remembering all the stories Spencer had told him of things he had to do so they had enough money for the bills and food. How sometimes the power was cut or he had to go to bed hungry. Surely things were better before his father left?
“Really, Spencer?” His father asked.
“Yes, really,” Spencer answered, “I might not have had enough to eat or enough money to always pay the bills but at least I didn’t go to bed scared of what might happen in the night,” Spencer's voice got quieter and quieter as he spoke.
“Scared,” William chuckled, “as if you didn’t enjoy our time together.”
Spencer stumbled back as if he had been slapped as Morgan glanced at the two, confusion in his eyes. What were they talking about?
“Enjoyed it?” Spencer let out a humourless laugh, “you think I enjoyed it when you snuck into my room, woke me up and forced yourself inside me,” he hissed at his father. William looked shocked, like he didn’t think Spencer would actually admit what happened to him. 
Morgan felt his blood run cold before a flash of anger coursed through him, “you what?” he growled at William. 
“I didn’t do anything,” William tried to defend himself.
Morgan glanced back at Spencer, whose head was down and shoulders slumped, looking defeated. 
“Yes you did.” Morgan grabbed William by the collar and threw him out the front door, “if you ever try to come near or even contact Spencer again, I will personally arrest you. And I won’t be gentle,” Morgan threatened before slamming the door. 
Morgan hurriedly made his way back to Spencer, who was now curled up in a ball and softly crying. Morgan rushed over and wrapped his arms around him, “Spencer I’m so sorry,” he whispered into his curls. 
After some time of Spencer crying he lifted his head and wiped his tears away, but avoided Morgan’s eyes in shame. 
“Hey,” Morgan gently said, turning his head to look at him, “are you okay?”
Spencer shrugged, “this is the first time I ever admitted out loud what happened,” he choked out. 
Morgan rubbed his back, “I know how hard that is and I’m sorry you couldn’t do it in a safe environment.”
Spencer nodded, fiddling with his fingers, “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.”
“You didn’t have too. That’s extremely private and something you only tell someone if you want to,” Morgan assured him, “can I ask you something though?” Spencer nodded. Morgan got a hesitant look on his face, “is that why you never wanted too have sex?”
Spencer nodded and looked away in shame, “I’ve never been able to, even thinking about it makes me..” Spencer cut himself off and took a deep breath to calm himself. He then looked at Morgan with sad eyes, “I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to.”
“And that’s completely fine,” Morgan told him.
“I just feel broken… I mean you're able to without panicking.”
“I am,” Morgan stated, “but that’s because everyone copes differently and is affected differently. There are things that are hard for me to do because of what happened to me, but that doesn’t make me broken, you understand?” 
Spencer nodded, “thank you.” 
“Your welcome, kid,” Morgan said, pulling him in for a hug.
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narcissisticmf · 3 years
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come back, please | peter pevensie x fem!reader
description: y/n lives in narnia and after the pevensie siblings leave, she feels like her connection with peter was left unfinished. she begs aslan to go see him in his world.
trigger warnings: angst, violence, sword fighting, mentions of anxiety/depression, etc. read at your own risk.
word count: 3.1k
You stood beside Caspian as you watched Aslan stand before the crowd of Telmarines and Narnians. The air was rather brisk that day, you felt your clothed arms grow subtle goosebumps all amongst them. You attempted to avoid eye contact with anyone except Aslan, for you were unable to look to the Pevensie siblings without shedding a tear or two, or many more. You felt Caspian nudge your arm softly with his elbow as a way to comfort you without using words. You forced a small smile to your glossy lips and continued to look at Aslan.
"If any Telmarines wish, I will return you to your forefathers. I'm not referring to Telmar, either. Your ancestors were seafaring brigands. Pirates run aground on an island. There they found a cave, a rare chasm that brought them here from their world. The same world as our kings and queens," Aslan trailed off and continued to explain more about where he would send any of the volunteers.
When he'd mentioned the kings and queens of Narnia, your eyes flickered to the Pevensies. The warmth in your eyes slowly started to grow cold when you locked your gaze with Peter, who looked back at you with a gentle expression. Through your lashes, tears blurred your vision. You felt as though you shouldn't be crying, you did your best to fight it, but the tears continued to trickle down from your waterline, along your cheeks staining your soft skin.
After a family had offered to go through with Aslan's offer, he awaited upon another volunteer. You bit the inside of your cheek, knowing what was coming when Peter stepped forth.
"We'll go," He swallowed thickly, his gaze bounced from Aslan to you.
"We will?" Lucy's voice raised in pitch.
"Come on. Our time's up," Peter released a breath and walked towards you and Caspian. His attention was solely on the prince as he pulled off his sword. "After all, we're not really needed here anymore," He handed the sword over to Caspian who took it in his grasp.
"I will look after it until your return," Caspian spoke with incandescence.
"I'm afraid that's just it," Susan spoke up. You glanced up to her with a knowing expression. "We're not coming back," She finished.
You felt Peter stand before you, but your eyes refused to look up to him. Without making any weeps, hot tears fell down along your flushed cheeks. Your blurred vision caught a glimpse of Peter's hands motion towards your face. His warm palms caressed your wet cheeks, making you finally look up to him.
"Why must you go, Peter?" You released in a soft whisper, nearly inaudible.
"I've learned what I can from this world, Y/N.. it is time for me to live in my own," He spoke gently, a subtle sadness under his tone.
"I will miss you so much," You choked out, in an attempt to keep your voice steady, but you failed miserably.
Peter parted his glossy lips and stared at you with the most comforting gaze you could imagine. He snuck his arms around your shoulders and buried his face into your shoulder, squeezing you tightly. You wrapped your arms around his torso with all the emotional strength you had left in you. You couldn't let go, not until he would first.
"Don't forget me," You whispered, lifting your head up to look at him.
"Never," Peter pressed a soft kiss to your forehead. You fluttered your eyes closed in response and let the warmth from your forehead spread throughout the rest of your body.
You felt Peter pull away, his fingers grazing across your sides as he stepped back, keeping his eyes upon you as he made his way to stand beside his siblings. Caspian and Susan shared a goodbye beside you, but you continued to watch Peter as he did you.
A burning sensation overtook your eyes as you watched the Pevensie siblings make their way between the trees of which Aslan had made for anyone who wished to go into another world. As soon as they stepped between the trees, they disappeared and you were left with your heart sunken into your stomach. More tears trickled down your cheeks as you stood silently watching the same spot Peter once stood.
More Narnians and Telmarines volunteered to go, but not all. Many people chose to stay. You planned to stay in Narnia with Caspian and the rest of the Narnians. You continued to stand still, watching the same place Peter was last seen before he disappeared.
.
The night was rather cold in Narnia, brisk wind and starry nights. You remained in the same spot for hours on end, still staring at the same tree. You hadn't known why you felt so weakened by Peter's departure, but you knew there was no way you'd be able to cope in any healthy manner.
"Don't you think it is time you get some rest?" Caspian's voice was heard from behind you. You couldn't break your gaze from the trees as more tears begun to fall.
"He's not coming back," You whispered through your parted, dry lips.
Caspian begun to walk up along the steps behind you. He stood to your side and followed your gaze to the same tree. "If it makes you feel any better, I am just as unhappy to know that Susan will not be back either," Caspian stated quietly.
"Knowing we are both miserable makes me even more unhappy," You released a soft breath, feeling emotionally tired.
Caspian sighed and continued to stand beside you, for even his company may do some good for you. After hours upon hours of looking through the trees, you broke your gaze and looked at Caspian. His eyes found yours and your parted your dry lips, breathing slowly.
"I've done enough mourning for one day," You spoke, "Goodnight, Caspian."
Starting down the steps, you walked along the stone of the fortress and headed towards your chamber. With sleep, prehaps, you'd be able to regain some emotional strength for the days to come.
.
The sun's rays snuck through the curtains of your chamber and struck your eyes mildly. You groaned and turned over, in no desire to awaken just yet. Your body felt awfully heavy and the skin around your eyes puffed due to how much you'd been crying.
Slowly, you fluttered your eyes opened and felt the mixture of mucus and tears harden along the inner corners of both your eyes. You took your knuckles and rubbed them away, releasing a deep sigh as you did so. You begun to sit up against the headboard of your bed. You pushed yourself off the mattress and walked barefoot about your room. You quickly changed from your sleepwear to your armor. Although not needed, you decided to practice some sword fighting early that day, in hopes of getting your mind off of Peter.
You pulled your boots on over your barefeet and grabbed your sword from the case at the end of your bed. Hurrying across the hall, you made your way out into the field where many Narnians were gathered. You kept your eyes peeled for Caspian, in hopes of asking him to practice with you.
"You're looking well rested this morning, Y/N," The voice of Caspian was heard from behind you, making you jump.
"Don't creep up on me like that," You scolded softly and watched him chuckling lightly. "Mind practicing with me for a little while? I need to get my mind preoccupied."
Caspian nodded his head, "Allow me to get my sword first." You nodded in response and scurried out further into the field, where you both would maintain a harmless battle away from the rest of the Narnians.
Awaiting in the field, you held your sword by the handle, having the blade kiss the grass. The sun's rays were potent that day, the leather armor against your body grew hot against your skin. When Caspian was seen in the distance with his sword and two shields, you released a breath and felt the adrenaline begin to build.
"We can't fight without shields," Caspian offered a grin as he tossed one to you. You rolled your eyes playfully and held up the shield in your free hand. "Ready?" He asked as he stood relatively far from you.
"Are you?" You offered with an evil glint, swinging the blade towards him as he dodged it with his shield. When Caspian tried to strike you from the head, you bent down so that you'd dodge his hit. You took the opportunity to swing your sword at his feet, causing him to stumble backwards.
You stood straight and watched as he slowly got up, swinging his sword towards you from the left and right. A grunt left your lips when your blade came to contact with Caspian's shield, a spark flew off the metal.
You couldn't help but remember Peter, how you and he would often practice together. Mostly because your sword fighting needed some work, but never directly spoke of that. You missed him truly and it grew harder to come into terms with when you knew you'd never see him again.
Caspian's strike to your blade kicked you from your thoughts. You mentally thanked him for that. You let out another grunt and swung your sword to his, the strike so powerful that it knocked it from his grasp. Caspian looked rather surprised and when you kept swinging, he dodged almost every hit with his shield.
You swung beneath his feet, which caused him to jump, swiftly avoiding your hit. You watched as Caspian reached for his sword upon the grass, making you swing to his shield again.
The both of you froze when you turned to notice Aslan was watching over the field at the top of the castle, overseeing all the Narnians. You released a soft breath and slowly brought your blade down, endless thoughts of Peter, Susan, Edmund and Lucy ran through your mind. You dropped your sword and begun to run back into the castle.
"Y/N! Where are you going?" Caspian called, but you were already hot upon your feet, too fast to turn back.
You scurried up the stairs, making left and right turns until you'd make it to the top, where Aslan stood overseeing everything and everyone. You needed to take the opportunity you had to speak with him yourself. You opened the doors to the top and looked straight ahead, seeing Aslan still there, before the same tree you spent all of yesterday looking at.
"Aslan," You breathed out and watched as his head turned to look at you. His light green eyes found yours, his mane moved softly with the brisk wind. You made your way towards him and stopped once you came to the edge.
"I see you've been practicing on your skill, dear one," Aslan stated, turning his head toward you.
"I need something to occupy my mind," You bashfully admitted.
"Missing them, are you?" He asked, with concern.
"More than I would like to admit."
"I miss them too, Edmund and Lucy will return eventually, in a few years potentially," Aslan continued to look at you, finding your face was written with distress. "What's the matter, dear one?"
"I must see Peter again," You spoke in a shaky tone. "I want him to come back and be here."
"Y/N, Peter has grown and learned all that he could from this world," Aslan said, his eyes softening.
"Can't I visit him in his world?" You spoke gently.
"Yes, but only for a little while," Aslan breathed out.
"How long?" You whispered.
"Two days of their world and then you will return."
You nodded gently, parting your lips as you stared at Aslan. He nodded in response and motioned towards the trees, the wind picked up in and the leaves rustled against the thin branches. You watched with a mesmerized gaze, keeping your eyes locked with the leaves. The color of the sky faded into a dark grey from a light blue. You squinted softly and turned your head to look before you. The road was slick and droplets from the sky fell rapidly down upon the ground. Puddles overflown against the sides of the road.
Glancing down at your clothing, you noticed you'd been dressed in a maroon colored uniform with your hair now straightened against your shoulders. You parted your lips and turned to look around, noticing how busy the streets were.
Slowly, you stepped forth to make sure no oncoming vehicles would hit you, when both sides of thr street were clear, you scurried across and made it to the other end, seeing that many a persons walked about the concrete. You'd been in Narnia so long that you'd forgotten what the streets were like during the daylight. You questioned if daylight would still be referred to as the same despite the gloomy whether that arose over England.
You turned your head to notice several people were exiting the underground railway station. You felt a nervousness grow deep inside your stomach. The center of your palms produced a thin layer of sweat when your eyes were met with four people you knew all too well in your world. You parted your lips softly and watched as Peter, Edmund, Susan and Lucy came up from the staircase and upon the same sidewalk as you had been upon. You were unsure if they'd recognize you, being so far away.
Your eyes locked with Lucy as she turned her head and noticed you. She had a wide grin upon her face as she reached to tug Peter's sleeve, her gaze never breaking with yours. Your lips formed into the most beautiful smile, shining ever so brightly on such a dull day.
When Peter looked to Lucy, she pointed towards you and her eldest brother followed where her finger led to. When his deep blue eyes fell into your warm ones, he froze in a state of shock, but also great happiness as you could tell his smile was rising. You missed everything of him, his smile, his eyes, his voice, his arms and his incandescent attitude. Susan and Edmund were the last to notice you, smiling happily.
You couldn't hold yourself back any longer, you begun to run towards them with pure excitement running through your veins. The adrenaline ran through you like wildfire, spreading about beneath the surface of your skin. The pit of your excitement lied within your chest, where your heart was palpitating like crazy.
"Peter!" You smiled as he started running in your direction. Behind him, the rest of the Pevensie siblings ran to you. You released inhaled deeply once you were close enough to Peter. His smile was wide as he wrapped his arms around your torso, lifting you up and spinning around with a sweet laugh escaping his lips. You hugged his shoulders and buried your face into his neck.
"Ah! Y/N, I missed you," Peter spoke as though a large weight was taken off of his shoulders.
"I missed you.. all of you," You let happy tears trickle down your cheeks as Peter placed you down onto the concrete. You slowly peeled back from him and took Lucy into a hug, along with Susan and Edmund.
"How did you get back?" Susan asked with a grin to her lips.
"Aslan, I will be here in your world for two days," You released a breath.
"Why two days?" Lucy questioned.
"I suppose it has a lot to do with how much I miss you all.. how terrible it was to let you go the first time.. it'll hurt no less the second time," You sighed gently.
You looked from Lucy to Peter with a softening expression. "If it's okay, I would like to speak to you," You mentioned softly.
"I'll catch up with you, wait at the traffic light for me," Peter looked to Edmund, Susan and Lucy as they all nodded and headed up along the sidewalk. You turned to look at Peter, who was already staring down upon you.
"I couldn't bear it," You released in a gentle breath. Peter offered his hand and you gladly took it, feeling an overwhelming sense of butterflies in your stomach. He lead you to a small bench before the road and you took a seat in it, soon after he did as well.
"Peter, I wish you could come back with me," You admitted.
"I wish I could as well," He pressed his lips together, "But I'm afraid I am just grown too old to go back."
"You're never too old for Narnia," You spoke softly. Peter offered a thin smile and took your hand in his own, entwining your fingers together.
"Come back, please," You felt your eyes brim with tears, "There's so much I haven't gotten to tell you."
Peter gently took his free hand and brushed away the tears from beneath your eyes. "What is it that you haven't gotten to tell me, Y/N?" He whispered and leaned in closer, making the moment much more intimate.
"Two days won't be enough time," You looked up to him.
"Come back, bring Lucy, Susan and Edmund.. Narnia needs you. I need you," You admitted ever so gently. "I'm unsure if Aslan will ever do this for me again, Peter."
Peter rested his forehead against yours and looked down at your fingers intertwind with his own. "There's only one thing Narnia has that I would go back for in a mere second," His voice lowered.
"What is it?" Your eyes flickered up into his own, a deep nervousness kicked back into your stomach.
Peter pulled his head back gently and smiled, his dimples caving in as he did so. You parted your glossy lips and watched as his blue eyes locked with yours. You felt your body move closer to him, not physically, but rather emotionally.
Before you could comprehend it, your lips were overtaken by Peter's. You fluttered your eyes closed in response and gave into the kiss, feeling your lips mold together in the most perfect sync. You felt his chest press against your own. You took the opportunity to cup his cheeks with your palms, feeling pure gaiety within your body. You missed Peter more than you could even begin to explain. You were unsure where else this kiss would lead, but you had no intent to rush there.
.
a/n: hello lovies!! so this may have been one of my favorite things i've ever written. i know it's angsty but those are the types of pieces i love writing the most. i hope you enjoyed this one and who knows maybe i'll write a part two? hmm? haha! anyway, thank you so much for reading! be safe and treat people with kindness. — angelina.
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taehyungssss · 4 years
Text
into the forest - m
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word count: 3.6k
genre: smut 18+ | royal, faerie, forbidden love
pairing: fae!jungkook x fem!reader | hoseok x fem!reader (previous)
summary: as the second princess of the human kingdom, you know to fear the fae, they did wage war on your people for one thousand years after all. what happens when you meet one in the forest, and they aren’t what you imagined?
warnings: mentions of war, slut-shaming (in passing), smut scenes, mentions of rough sex/spanking, unprotected sex (don’t be silly, wrap your willy), outdoor sex, nipple play, fingering, oral (f receiving), creampie
a/n: this is my first bts fic so i hope you enjoy it! thanks to all my friends for reading it and giving me feedback, you’re the best
Never trust the Fae, that’s what everyone always told you. They’re tricksters, they’re evil, all they care about is corrupting humans, and you believed them. Why wouldn’t you? As a child you were told tales of the terrifying Fae with their leathery skin, red eyes and big black horns. You would wake in the night crying for your nursemaid, afraid that there would be a Fae under your bed.
The Fae were not of legend though, they were very real, you knew this from your family history. You were not an ordinary child; you were the Second Princess of the human kingdom. Your father and mother were King and Queen respectively, and your older sister was the prized Crown Princess. Four hundred years ago your ancestor, the then King, had ended the one-thousand-year war which had occurred between your kingdom and the kingdom of the Fae. He had agreed with the Fae King to end the exhausting warfare on the condition that neither people would breach the others’ land. Since then, each community had kept to itself, neither interacting with the other, but the horror stories of the Fae remained as a cautionary tale to the brave few who wished to seek them out and break the peace.
You were currently stressed beyond belief by the trauma that was the organisation of your sister’s marriage. As the Crown Princess, therefore the next in line to the throne, she had been betrothed to the most respectable and handsome man in the whole kingdom, Lord Kim Seokjin. Your parents decided that at 23 years old it was time for your sister to finally be wed to her fiancé, and that meant hours of planning and protocol. Being the Second Princess, you were to be the maid of honour, and the dress fittings were beginning to wear you down.
Another cause of stress was that you would be the next to be married. You were yet to be betrothed to anyone, probably because your father viewed you as damaged goods after the incident with the Chief Knight, Jung Hoseok. A couple of years ago, after too much wine at a festival ball, you snuck away with Hoseok to an inconspicuous corridor. The drink had blurred both of your minds and your lips had become entangled in a passionate kiss. You still remember his lips caressing your neck and your begging of him for more. This led to your father, the King and ruler of all, finding you with Hoseok’s hand up your skirt. He definitely wasn’t pleased.
Your father had to be held back from punching Hoseok in the face and the next morning he had the guards practically drag the both of you to a private room for a discussion. He decreed that this brief relationship was not to continue under any circumstances, and if you were caught again Hoseok would be banished. Of course, you didn’t listen, but after a few months the relationship fizzled out, the thrill of getting caught wearing thin. Now Hoseok was married to a beautiful maiden, but you remained on good terms.
Part of you wished you could’ve married Hoseok, at least then there wouldn’t be any nerves. The prospect of being married to someone you were incompatible with made you cringe and feel a little sick in your stomach. No other man had ever made you feel anything, they were either too irritating or too arrogant, and you found yourself fatigued with having to dance with a different suitor at every ball, if only you could marry yourself.
This is how you found yourself riding your beloved horse, Bramble, into the Border Forest. There was nothing better than a good ride to relieve stress. However, you must have gotten carried away as you now found yourself in a part of the forest that you didn’t recognise. The flowers were different here and you couldn’t remember if you passed the red handkerchief that you’d tied to a tree many years ago to alert yourself that you were near the kingdom border. You see, the forest was generally out of bounds as it was close to the Fae kingdom, but you bent the rules on a regular basis, always making sure to stop before your self-placed marker so you didn’t accidentally break the peace treaty. Before you had a chance to panic even more, a voice called to you.
“Lost?”. You looked up to see a tall man with a mullet of black and blue hair in front of you. “Oh, thank goodness,” you said, breathing a sigh of relief. “I thought I had wandered into the kingdom of the Fae.” The man frowned slightly. “You are in the lands of the Fae,” he replied. You froze, you must have gotten very carried away on your ride to come this far out, but the sight of a fellow human calmed you slightly. “Could you please lead me back to our kingdom?” you asked. “Our kingdom?” the man looked puzzled. “This is my kingdom.” “But you’re human?” you half-asked. The man shook his head and smiled slightly. “No, I am Fae,” the man clarified.
You suddenly felt incredibly nauseous. How could this man be Fae? Where were his red eyes or big horns? This man didn’t look like a monster, in fact he was beautiful, ethereal and enchanting. “You seem shocked,” he said. You nodded. “You don’t look like I imagined,” you replied. “You know? The leathery skin and red eyes.” The man laughed heartily. “Is that what they tell you in the human kingdom?” he asked through his amusement. “That’s funny. I look like a typical Fae. No red eyes here. I’m Jungkook by the way.” The man, Jungkook, outstretched his hand. You looked at it for a moment before shaking your head, unwilling to touch your enemy.
“I will not tell you my name, all you must know is that I’m the Second Princess of the human kingdom,” you said in a matter-of-fact way. Jungkook laughed again, much to your irritation. “Continue back the way you came, Princess,” you tensed slightly when he used your title, it slid from his tongue in the most exquisite way. “You will soon be back in the human lands. By the way, I am the Second Prince of the Fae. If you’re curious about what other lies your people have told you about mine, meet me here in two days’ time at sundown. I will answer any questions you have.” You didn’t answer Jungkook, fear of his kind still coursing through your veins. You merely nodded, mounted Bramble and rode back home. You told yourself there was no way you would meet Jungkook again, but you couldn’t deny how your heart pulled you towards the idea.
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Despite your brain telling you to stay away from Jungkook, either your heart, or something else, pulled you towards him. Two days after your initial meeting you stood in the spot where you first met. He was yet to arrive, and you were beginning to feel uneasy. It was dark and the sounds of unfamiliar wildlife were putting you on edge. Then you saw a figure approaching, Jungkook. He was illuminated by a swarm of floating lights; it was a mesmerising sight.
“You came,” he said, his mouth forming a smile. “I did,” you replied, pulling your shawl tighter around your shoulders. As Jungkook came closer you noticed that his hair was behind his ears, this was the first difference you noticed from yourself, his ears were pointed. “Your ears,” you said. “They’re pointed.” “They are,” Jungkook spoke warmly as he moved closer. “It’s a Fae characteristic.” He came to a stop two steps in front of you, the lights still swirling around him. “How are you doing that?” you motioned around him. “The lights?” “They’re fireflies,” Jungkook replied. “Fae are a lot more in touch with nature than humans are, that’s how we get our magic.” He moved his hands in circular motions and the fireflies spread out around you both, illuminating the area you inhabited. “Please sit,” he said, lowering himself down on the grass. You nervously followed his lead, still questioning why you were here with your ancestral enemy.
“Will you tell me your name, Princess?” the prince asked, the use of your title giving you shivers once again. You stayed silent for a moment. “Y/N,” you replied, shuffling your feet in the grass. “Y/N,” Jungkook repeated. “I like it.” You didn’t really know how to respond, so you settled for nodding, another silence falling on the two of you. “I’m guessing you came because you have questions,” he said. “So, ask me something.” Plucking up your courage you decided on a question that had been troubling you since you had left two days previously. “Why didn’t you tell your king that I trespassed on Fae lands?” you asked cautiously. “It breaks the peace treaty and we’re enemies.” “Are we?” Jungkook asked immediately. “Unless I’m wrong, I only met you two days ago Y/N. How can we be enemies?” You shook your head in frustration. “You know what I mean, we’re ancestral enemies,” you bit back quickly. “You could’ve told the king and declared war on all humans by now, but you didn’t.” Jungkook smiled. “I didn’t tell my father because you obviously came here by mistake, and I’ve never met a human before,” he said. “You say we have leathery skin, but we say that you have no light within, that you’re a barren and cold people.” Your eyes widened. Of course, you knew that the Fae must have stories about humans, but you didn’t expect them to be so philosophical.
“Am I then?” you said nervously. “Am I barren and cold with no light within?” The prince looked you up and down in a way that gave you goosebumps. “No,” he finally replied. “If anything, you’re radiant and lush. Life courses through your veins.” A feeling you hadn’t experienced since your dalliances with Hoseok took hold of you. Heat rushed to your cheeks and you couldn’t look Jungkook in the face. “Please don’t feel uncomfortable in my presence,” he reassured you. “I want to learn more about you, and I sense you wish to learn more about me. I promise not to tell my father if you promise not to tell yours.” He held his hand out to you. “I promise,” you responded, taking his hand in yours. It was warm and soft, it was comforting. Even after letting go you could still feel a tingle where he had touched you. You were in trouble now.
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Every week at sundown you and Jungkook would meet in the same place in the forest. On the fifth visit he had been giving you a more in-depth explanation of how Fae magic worked. “We draw our magic from nature,” he said softly, gesturing to the trees all around you. “We can use it to fight, but we can also use it to heal and even create.” He cupped his hands together for a moment, before opening them to reveal a beautiful purple flower. Your eyes lit up in amazement as you marvelled at the bloom he had made from thin air. “For you, Princess,” he said, holding out the flower for you. You took it from him and inhaled the fresh scent exuding from it. “Thank you,” you replied, looking Jungkook directly in the eyes. Not for the first time you contemplated how beautiful they were, like swirling galaxies pulling you closer to him.
You both stayed still for a moment, gazing deeply into each other’s eyes. You felt an overwhelming feeling of safety whenever you were with him, he was of great comfort to you, and now looking into his eyes you felt like you could float away into the clouds. Suddenly Jungkook moved his hand to cup your jaw, brushing his thumb along your face softly. “May I?” he asked. Your stomach erupted into butterflies, surely, he couldn’t be asking to kiss you? “Princess, may I kiss you?” he clarified after taking in your confused state. You nodded, dumbstruck, as he moved closer to your lips.
Jungkook’s lips were soft and warm as they caressed your own, his hand moving to the back of your neck to pull you closer. You melted into the kiss, amazed that this beautiful creature was actually in your arms. All too quickly Jungkook pulled away, taking in your flushed face and puffy lips. Before you had a chance to complain he pushed his lips against yours, more harshly this time. Gaining more confidence, you wrapped your hands around the back of his neck. Jungkook brushed his tongue against your lips and you opened them to allow him in. The feeling of your tongues intimately brushing together gave you a light feeling inside and simultaneously made you feel hot, this never happened with Hoseok.
After an unknown amount of time, it could’ve been minutes or hours, you both pulled away. “I…” you began, at a loss for words. “Thank you.” “My pleasure,” Jungkook replied, stirring feelings within your core. “Your lips are divine, as is the rest of you.” You felt a blush rise on your cheeks as you looked at the ground. “Please don’t look away, Princess,” he said as he grasped your hands. “I like you and I wish to show it. If you would rather stop these meetings then we can, but I would rather we carried on.” You looked back up to his face, he was smiling softly, and his galaxy eyes were glimmering. “I want to carry on too,” you said, pulling him in for another sweet kiss.
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Each week the meetings and kisses continued, and you felt yourself falling more and more for Jungkook. Your previous ill feelings towards the Fae had vanished and you wanted nothing more than to be in the arms of your Fae lover at all times. On the twelfth visit you once again found your lips locked against his as you laid beneath him in the grass. This time it was different though, his hands were caressing your body more intensely than usual and you were beginning to feel hot.
Jungkook pulled away, foreheads resting against each other. “Y/N,” he began. “Have you ever been touched by a man?” You felt the colour drain from your face, he could probably sense you sullied nature and no longer wanted anything to do with you. “I have,” you replied cautiously. “Just one. I’m sorry.” Jungkook frowned. “Don’t apologise,” he said, softly brushing your jaw with his thumb. “I’m not pure either, but people don’t fuss over it with men like they do with women. It doesn’t matter to me either way.” Relief washed over you as you heard his words, Jungkook didn’t think you were damaged goods, he still wanted you. “May I touch you, Princess?” he whispered in your ear. Shivers of anticipation travelled down your spine as you nodded fervently.
Jungkook’s hand moved to your clothed breast as he began to massage it, a smirk appearing on his face as you let out a soft moan. He quickly untied the fastenings at the back of your dress and pulled it down to your waist. His mouth kissed where his hand had just been, eliciting louder moans from you as his tongue flicked at your nipple. As he kissed your breasts his hand moved further south, finding its way underneath your dress and on bare sex. “You’re so wet,” he murmured approvingly. “Is this okay?” he asked as he began to rub the bundle of nerves that brought you immense pleasure. You nodded quickly, moaning as he quickened his pace.
The prince stopped his movements and you let out a whine of disappointment. “Let’s get this dress off you properly,” he said, pulling the material from your body. Jungkook was still fully clothed and you suddenly felt very exposed. You reached out and he allowed you to remove his shirt, but you weren’t prepared for what was underneath. You let out a gasp at how incredibly toned and muscular he was, your hands running across his abs. “Like what you see, Princess?” he smirked. “Yes,” you purred as he laid you back down on the soft grass, positioning himself between your legs. Suddenly his mouth was on your most intimate area, his tongue lapping at your clitoris. You moaned wantonly, gripping at the hair on his head. You had never felt such pleasure in your life, and your moans became louder and more frequent as you felt the familiar coil in your core begin to tighten. Jungkook slowly pushed a finger inside you, it felt incredible. “Don’t stop Jungkook,” you cried. “More… Please…” You looked up and saw him smirk as he pleasured you. He added another finger and curled them, hitting the spot inside of you. The coil tightened and tightened until it released, and pleasure flowed through your veins and you screamed out your lover’s name.
Jungkook wiped your wetness from his mouth and began to kiss you. Being able to taste yourself on his tongue was incredibly erotic, and you found your hand travelling down to the hardness at his crotch. He suddenly grabbed your hand, stopping you. “Tonight is about you,” he said. “Let me pleasure you.” He pushed you back onto the grass and removed his trousers and undergarments, releasing his impressive length. You panicked slightly at the sight of it, he was bigger than Hoseok. “You’re so big,” you whispered. Jungkook smiled widely at the compliment. “Yes, but I know you can take me,” he replied reassuringly. “Do you definitely want this?” You nodded and he grasped your thighs, moving them apart. He lined himself up at your entrance and held your hands as he pushed inside. It stung a little as you weren’t used to his size, but after a moment you began to feel comfortable. “Please move Jungkook,” you whimpered.
He began to move within you, leisurely thrusting in and out. His manhood brushed against the sweet spot inside you and you clenched around him, letting out a moan.
“You feel so good,” he said breathlessly. “You’re taking me so well.” His compliments brought even more pleasure to you and he softly held your hands as he brought you closer and closer to orgasm. Sex with Hoseok hadn’t been like this at all, he had been more concerned with taking you roughly from behind and leaving red handprints on your derriere. Something about treating the Second Princess like a common whore had thrilled him, and you were more than happy to indulge him. However, sex with Jungkook was pure lovemaking. It was gentle and soft, you truly felt safe and on top of the world.
You felt yourself getting closer towards release, and Jungkook sensed this from your vice-like grip on his cock. He moved his hand to your clitoris and began to rub fast circles upon it. You gasped and moaned at his touch, taking in his sweaty and downright hot appearance. His mullet was beginning to cling to his forehead and his abs were rippling as he thrusted into you. “Jungkook,” you whined wantonly. “I’m so close.” The pressure in your core was becoming unbearable and you felt yourself hurtling towards release. “Let go for me Y/N,” he leant down and whispered into your ear, keeping up his pace. Your orgasm immediately washed over you, your womanhood pulsing around him as you let out a moan. His hips stuttered slightly, and he managed a few more thrusts before releasing his seed inside you.
Both of you looked at each other, beaming from ear to ear. Jungkook planted a sensual kiss on your lips before pulling away, pressing his forehead to your own. “That was incredible,” he exclaimed, brushing your hair from your face. “It was,” you gasped, still catching your breath. “Jungkook…” “Yes,” he answered. “What’s wrong, Princess?” You were silent for a moment. “I think I love you,” you said nervously, looking away from him. His fingers pinched your chin and turned you back to face him. “That’s good,” he smiled. “Because I think I love you too.”
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Six more visits had transpired since the first time you made love, and each time you found your limbs entangled with his, gasping with pleasure. You were becoming more and more fearful of the concept of marrying a stranger chosen by your parents, you only wanted Jungkook. Your parents had not sensed your distress or your weekly disappearances, too wrapped up in planning your sister’s lavish wedding. However, it turned out that you had also become distracted from something of note.
One of your maids entered your chambers. “Your highness,” she said, a bundle of cloth in her arms. “I’ve brought your rags for your monthly bleed. You hadn’t asked me for them, and it slipped my mind. If I’m right, your bleed should’ve started two weeks since? Is everything okay? Should I call a man of medicine?” You could feel the colour draining from your face and nausea filling your stomach. “It’s okay,” you lied. “I got them myself two weeks ago, I was in that part of the castle.” “Oh…” your maid frowned. “Forgive me, your highness, I am glad all is well. I’ll leave these rags in one of your draws for next time.” “Thank you,” you said, relieved she has believed your terrible untruth. Your maid was right, your monthly bleed had been due two weeks ago, but it hadn’t come. The truth sank heavy on your shoulders, Jungkook’s seed had taken root and you were pregnant. You were pregnant with Jungkook’s baby. You were pregnant with your ancestral enemy’s child.
END
feedback is always appreciated! please don’t repost or translate my work
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doctorstethoscope · 3 years
Text
The Right Chapter 3 || Aaron Hotchner x Fem!Reader
Hey gang, I wanted to give y’all another update this week because I know there wasn’t a lot of hotch in the last chapter. This is a long one! 
Read previous chapters here!
wordcount: 3.6k
warnings: canon-typical harassment and violence, swearing
tagging: @the-modernmary @greeneyedblondie44 @angelic-kisses13 @wanniiieeee
It’s closer to the afternoon than the morning when you finally get out of bed the next day. Aaron had set you up in his guest room before going to bed himself, and had dutifully woken you up every two hours. You emerged into the kitchen to see him sitting at the table with his laptop open, surely working even though he was technically out on sick leave. 
“Good morning” he says when he sees you appear in the doorway. “The coffee’s still hot, if you want some. I don’t have any RedBull, though.” 
You rolled your eyes as you crossed the kitchen to make yourself a cup. “Is it still morning? It feels like I must have slept through the whole day.”
“Well, you needed it. Long night.” He tells you, and you let out a little hum in response. “Hey, uh. Your cell phone is on the counter. It was making a lot of noise and I didn’t want it to wake you.” he admits sheepishly. “I didn’t read anything, but Josh’s name popped up a lot.”
You pouted a little. “I guess I did kind of just disappear. I probably owe him an explanation,” you said, crossing the kitchen and picking your phone up.
“You don’t owe him a god damned thing.” Hotch said a little harshly, but you knew his tone wasn’t aimed towards you. 
You powered your phone on-- Hotch must have turned it on after he took it. 13 missed calls and 27 texts, sheesh. Not all of them are from Josh, thankfully. You shoot a quick text back to JJ, Garcia and Emily, who had all individually checked in when you didn’t show up at the office. With a little more trepidation, you opened up your thread with Josh. 
“Where are you?”
“You never came to bed last night.”
“Off fucking the boss man?”
 “Did I catch you before you got down to anything good?”
“Fucking slut.”
“Couldn’t even finish cleaning the carpet before you left.”
“Fucking answer me.”
“Did I bash your skull so hard that you forgot to pack my lunch before you left?”
“This is ridiculous.’
“So you’re just running away?”
“Don’t be such a baby.” 
“You are so in for it when you get home.”
“I should have killed you.”
There’s more, but you’re not sure you can stomach it. You drop your phone to the counter, swallowing back a bit of bile that has risen up from your stomach. Aaron is at your side in an instant. 
“Can I look?” He asked quietly. He’s looking you right in the eye but you feel like you can’t see him at all, like he’s not really there. You must have nodded your head, because he picked up your phone and started scrolling, but you have no way of knowing how you even told your body to do that. After a moment, he sets your phone face down on the counter, and turns to face you, placing a gentle hand on each of your upper arms. “We are going to figure it out, okay? You’re not in this alone, and I’m not going to let you get hurt again. You did the right thing. You got out. And now you have help.” 
 He’s staring into your eyes as he promises to keep you safe, and the dam breaks. All of the emotions that you’ve bottled up for the last ten hours are flooding through you, and you’re sobbing uncontrollably before you have even recognized how upset you really are. Aaron gathers you up in his arms in an instant, and you wrap your arms around him, crying into his old sweatshirt. 
“It’s okay. I’ve got you. Let it all out,” he whispers in a mantra, rubbing your back.
You realize in this moment that Aaron is truly your best friend-- you’d always known that you were closer to him than anyone else in the office, and the same was true for him, with the possible exception of Dave. What you hadn’t realized, is that somewhere along the way, your college friendships, your academy friendships, your girlfriends, had all faded into the background, and Aaron became the person you wanted to tell good news to, the person you drew comfort from, and the person you called when you realized you couldn’t get the blood out of the carpet. The realization surprises you, enough to let you get a few deep breaths in and calm yourself down, untucking from Aaron’s shoulder and dabbing at your eyes with your shirt sleeve.
 “Thank you,” you say through your choked voice, even though it could never be enough.
“How’s your head?” He asked, looking over the top of your head to the clock on the stove to see if it was time for you to have more pain meds.  
“Ah, well, I don’t think the crying really helped.” You shrugged, attempting to bring some levity back to the situation as you picked your phone back up. 
“What are you doing?” Hotch asked, eyeing you and the phone. 
“I’m calling Josh back.” You said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. 
“Okay, now I’m sure you hit your head,” he said, swiping the phone out of your hand before you could place a call.
“Hotch--” 
 “Can you at least tell me why you want to do this?” He said, and you can see the concern etched into his face. 
“I’ve got to go back at some point. I’m sure it’ll be easier for him to cool off if I’m not completely ignoring him in the meantime.”
“Go back? What are you talking about?” Aaron asked
“I live there, Hotchner. I can’t avoid him forever. Even if I move--”
“You’ll stay here. For as long as necessary. It’s not safe for you to go back there.” He says, his tone leaving no room for argument.
“Do I get a say in this at all?” 
“Not if your only defense is that you don’t want someone else to take care of you. Because right now you need caring for, and I’m not letting you talk your way out of it.” Hotch said resolutely, and you sighed. The silence lingers for a moment before you speak up again, quietly. 
“I could use some more pain meds.” You admitted. 
“You shouldn’t take these on an empty stomach. Let’s get you some toast, drink your coffee to clear up your sinuses and then you can take your next dose and go back to bed.” 
“Hotch, the day’s half over. I can’t go back to bed.” You argued, with significantly less heat behind it, lifting the steaming mug of coffee up to your face at his suggestion. 
“It’s a sick day. You’re injured. You’re supposed to rest all day and let your body heal. You won’t be arguing with me once you’ve taken the pills.”
Hotch had tried to get you to take the rest of the week off, but you couldn’t stand the thought of sitting around in his apartment doing nothing. You also knew that an extended absence would catch the attention of your teammates-- and you weren’t sure if you were ready to share all of this with them yet. That was why you were perched in front of the mirror in Hotch’s guest room, liberally applying concealer and powder to your healing black eye. Aaron had made you promise to take it easy, and you already know he’d have eyes on you all day to make sure you weren’t overdoing it. No need to attract any more attention. There’s a soft knock from the hall. 
“Come in,” you called.
“Hey,” Hotch said, swinging open the door. “We’ve got to leave in a few minutes.” 
“I’ll be ready,” you assured him, dipping your brush into the powder before brushing it over your nose and cheekbone, wincing a little. 
“When did you learn to do that?” Hotch asked softly.
“Hotch…” You responded softly. 
“Sorry, I don’t mean to pry. You don’t need to answer that.” He apologized, averting his gaze to the floor.
“If I answer, are you going to stop blaming yourself for not noticing?”
“I can’t promise you that.” He shakes his head. 
“I wasn’t… I’m not a battered woman, Hotch.” 
“Of course you aren’t.” He’s quick to affirm you, to make sure you know he doesn’t see you as a victim.
“No, I mean, this was excessive. Was he rough? Sure. Did he leave marks? Yeah, he did. But I wasn’t getting tossed around and beaten like that. He’s not really like that, normally. He was just drunk, I think.” 
“You’re not seriously making excuses for him, are you?” Hotch asked, and suddenly you’re indignant, even though you know he’s right.
“He had a bad night.” You protest weakly. 
“He almost killed you!” Aaron raised his voice, just a tad.
“He was just trying to scare me.” You countered. 
“He was escalating. I know that you know that,” Hotch said, searching your face, looking for something to profile. You didn’t blame him, you knew your behavior was erratic. You draw a deep breath, your chin quivering as your eyes welled up. 
“It worked. I’m scared.” You squeaked out, trying not to let the tears fall and ruin the makeup you’ve worked so hard on. Hotch wrapped you in his arms again and you breathed in deeply, letting his cologne fill your lungs and lull you into a calm.
“You don’t need to be scared. I’ve got your six. I’ve got you.” He reminded you, and you pulled away from him. 
“I don’t think I’m ready to share this with the team yet.” You told him, and he nodded. 
“Like I said, your pace. When you’re ready, you’ll tell them, and if you want my support, I’ll be there. I’m gonna go make us some coffee, meet me in the kitchen when you’re ready.”
You were silly to think that you could hide anything from a group of profilers-- none of them have guessed it, yet, or if they have, they’re too polite to say anything about it, but they’ve certainly noticed something. They surrounded you with concern and peppered you with questions the second you walked into the office, and Hotch’s devotion to making sure you weren’t pushing yourself too hard certainly wasn’t going unnoticed. It was during one of your Unit-Chief-Mandated-Breaks that you snuck into the kitchen to refill your water bottle. Almost silently, JJ slipped in behind you. 
“You know, you can just say the word, and we’ll all stop pestering you.” She says, and you can hear her gentle smile.
“That’s okay. If I call you off, I lose the right to fuss over whoever’s next.” You tried to crack a joke. 
“Good point.” She chuckled. 
“I really am okay, Jayje.” You assured her. 
“No, honey, you aren’t.” She shook her head. “But you’ll tell us when you’re ready, and we’ll support you even if the secret dies with you.” She laughs, wrapping an arm around your shoulders as you walked out of the kitchen together, sharing a small conspiratorial laugh, your heads thrown back as you pass through the doorway. When the ping of the elevator doors opening grabs your attention, you drop your water bottle in shock. 
“You okay?” JJ asks, bending over to pick up your water bottle as he storms through the glass doors of the BAU. 
“You whore!” Josh spat out, catching the attention of the whole bullpen. So much for keeping them out of it.
“Who the hell do you think you’re talking to?” Morgan asked, rising from his desk immediately. 
“Josh?” Emily says, the first one to recognize him. Your eyes dart around the bullpen, and you spot Reid at his desk phone, no doubt calling security.  
“You fucking bitch!” Josh says, still advancing towards you. Your brain is screaming at you to run but you can’t get your legs to move. It’s a literal childhood nightmare, playing out in the flesh.
“Come on, let’s go back into the kitchen” JJ says softly, her tone betraying none of her fear as she practically shoves you back into the kitchen. You stumble into a chair, and the sound is muted because of the door, but you can still see and hear everything through the glass. Josh takes another step into the bullpen, but Morgan’s in front of him. 
“Turn around and walk out of here, man, because there’s no other way this ends well for you.” Morgan puffs out his chest, trying to stop Josh from looking over his shoulder and seeing you. 
“Not until that slut gives me some fucking answers,” He spits out, and you feel JJ squeeze your hand, but you’re too laser-focused on the scene in front of you to acknowledge her.
“I’m going to give you one more chance to walk away.” Morgan hisses through his teeth, advancing closer to Josh. 
“I’d listen to him if I were you.” Hotch said, suddenly appearing on the other side of Josh. You hadn’t seen him come down the stairs. 
“Ah, good old boss man.’ Josh jeered. “How’s my sloppy seconds? I hope she’s treating you real good seeing as how you stole her right out from under me in the night.”
Without warning, you watch Hotch’s fist connect with Josh’s face. Josh stumbles away, holding his nose, when security comes in through the elevators. 
“I’m leaving, I’m leaving.” He says, raising his hands in surrender. He turns around to face Hotch once more. “This isn’t over.” He says, bringing his hands back to his nose and following the security officer into the elevator.
There’s a stunned sort of silence that hangs over the unit for a few moments before you hear someone break out into a sob. When you feel JJ’s hand start rubbing across your back, you realize that it came from you. The door flies open and you startle, but when you look up, you see a clouded figure of Hotch through your tear-saturated eyes. 
You hear JJ and Aaron whisper to each other, but you can’t focus enough to hear what they’re saying. Whatever it is, the conversation ends with JJ slipping out of the kitchen just as quietly as she came, and Aaron sliding into the chair across from you.
“Can I touch you?” He asked, his voice only just loud enough for you to hear over the sound of your own labored breathing. You nodded, unable to verbally respond. He smoothed his hands over your shoulders, down your arms, taking your hands into his own. “You’re okay, he’s gone. Security knows who he is now, he won’t be allowed back in the building.” He tells you, and you nod again. 
“I’m okay.” You manage to choke out. 
“I need you to take some deep breaths for me, okay? You’re going to make yourself sick.” He asked of you, disarmingly calm, as he modeled the deep cleansing breaths for you. You take a deep, shaky breath in, trying to force the oxygen all the way down into your lungs before letting it back out in a huff. “Good,” he told you. “Good job, sweetheart, keep going.” he encouraged you, tucking a piece of hair that had gotten stuck to your tear-stained cheek behind your ear. When you were finally calm enough to look up at him, you did so. “There you are,” he smiled at you. “You’re okay.” 
“I’m okay. Your hand--”
“I’m okay--” He assured you, but you flipped his hand over in your own anyways. It’s swollen. 
“You need ice.” You said, standing up and crossing to the freezer. 
“You need to sit down before you fall.” Aaron stood up to follow you, shaking his head. 
“I took my deep breaths, Hotch. I’m not an eighty year old woman.” You chastised him as you pulled a few ice cubes out of the freezer, putting them in a plastic bag and wrapping a paper towel around it. 
“My hand is fine.” He argued with you as you pressed the ice pack to his knuckles. 
“You are in absolutely no position to argue with me about letting someone else take care of you, hypocrite.” You fought back, with nothing but concern behind it. 
“Okay, fine, but can you sit down, please.” He begged of you. 
“Don’t I owe the rest of the team an explanation for all of that?” 
“They can wait. Sit down.” He said, and it was no longer a request. You sat down in the seat across from him. “How’s your head?” 
‘It’s been better.” You tell him honestly. 
“Take a few more deep breaths, please.” He tells you, and you roll your eyes. 
“Hotch, I’m--”
“You’re holding your breath. Your shoulders are practically touching your ears. Plus, it would make my hand feel better.” He says, shooting you a grin that would be wholly inappropriate for the situation if it didn’t make you feel so at ease.
You roll your eyes at him in mock-contempt, taking the breaths to appease him and dropping your shoulders. “How is your hand, seriously?” 
“I’m fine. I’ve thrown my fair share of punches.” He smirked at you, still trying to distract you, to lighten the mood. “We can just leave. You must need more pain meds, if not a nap. We don’t have to get into all of it today.” 
“Well, they all basically know now. We should probably just go to clear the air that I’m not sleeping with you for a promotion.”
“If you’re not up to it, we can--”
“No, Hotch.” You stand up, shaking your head at him through a smile. “Let’s go get it over with.” 
 The team, of course, didn’t need you to explain that all of what Josh had said was false. Your integrity and the trust shared between all of you was louder than any stupid asshole that could bluster in through those glass doors. You’d cried all of your makeup off, so your black eye was now fully exposed to the team. Aaron left a protective hand on the small of your back the whole time you spoke, never once speaking over you or interrupting. As soon as you finished, you felt silly for ever thinking you needed to hide this from them-- they were supportive without being pitying, and JJ, Emily and Garcia had wrapped you up in hugs just as soon as you finally got it all off your chest. 
“We’re going to head out, obviously call us if there’s an urgent case notification.” Aaron explained to the team. “You all should feel free to leave as soon as your paperwork is done.”
“Hotch, I’m really fine,” you tried to insist. 
“Are you gonna tell the team they have to keep working?” Aaron quirked an eyebrow at you and you scowled, knowing there was no going back now. “I’m just going to pack some of my stuff up.” He told you, turning back to his office. You followed suit, going to your desk and tidying up. 
“Hey, cupcake.” Morgan whistled to get your attention before crossing the bullpen to get to you. “If I had known--if I had seen that bruise on your face before he walked in here -- I would have taken him down myself. Hotchner showed an... impressive amount of restraint.” He told you with a humorless chuckle. 
“Thank you, Derek. But he’s not worth it, seriously.” You told him with a smile. 
“No, he’s not.” He agreed. “But you are. Don’t you forget that, okay? If you need anything, I’m here.” 
Instead of responding verbally, you pushed yourself up onto your tiptoes to wrap your arms around his neck in a hug. He wrapped his arms around you snugly, crushing you into his chest. It hurt, a little, but the overwhelming security you found with him holding you was far stronger than any pain.
You pulled away and bid your goodnights to the team, following Aaron out to the car taking off towards his apartment. 
“You were really brave back there. I’m proud of you. As your friend, not your boss. Or, I guess as your friend and your boss.” He tells you, taking one hand off the steering wheel to squeeze yours briefly. 
“I didn’t really have much of a choice,” you rolled your eyes with a small smirk. 
“There’s always a choice. You chose to get out, and you chose to let your team in. That’s not nothing.” He told you as he parked the car in front of his place.
 “Thank you,” you said, choosing to accept the compliment even though you didn’t believe him. Aaron saw it in your eyes, but he let it slide. You’d see, eventually.  At her pace, he reminded himself. 
“I was thinking I’d cook tonight. Do you have anything particular in mind?” He asked as you settled into the apartment, hanging up your coats. 
“Aaron Hotchner, you can cook?” You laughed, turning around and beaming at him. He couldn’t help but return your smile. 
“I’m not Dave, but I manage.” He said coyly. 
“I’m sure whatever you make will be delicious.” You told him graciously. “And I’m very excited to try it.”
He tossed you an orange from the bowl of fruit on his counter, and then your pain meds. “Go take a nap.”
“Hotch, I’m---”
“Nope, I don’t want to hear it. I let you spend six hours squinting at screens and paperwork under fluorescents. None of that was good for your head. Go.” 
You rolled your eyes at him goodnaturedly before going to the guest room, stripping your work clothes off in favor of a pair of sweats and an FBI Academy t-shirt. Truth be told, everything that had gone down at work had been exhausting, and it wasn’t long before you fell asleep. 
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imalwaystiredzzz · 3 years
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C5: Sisyphus happy. Yan Zhongli x Reader
#genshin x reader
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Warning: Yandere behavior, unhealthy relationships
< Sisyphus happy chapters >
Once, from a time long before records and memories were written on ink and paper, Morax walked upon vast lands rich in history, watered by tears of tragedy and love lost. He turns to an old woman who stood before her destroyed village, eyes downcast and hollow on bodies drowned by the war of an unrelenting sea and the mountain that does not bow. 
Morax did not understand, maybe once when he had held a goddess’ body to his own, but to him that was one thing and this is another. This is love of a mortal that does not even know who the child that cried next door nor the man that walked past their door, this is to love a complete stranger and the love that Guizhong once had when she was still by his side.
“What must I do to learn the love of mortals?” He asks, voice devoid of emotion; genuine curiosity and the hope to understand beneath.  
The old woman smiled, warm and full of wisdom as if her short years were thousands compared to the god. “To love mortals, one must sacrifice eternity and learn of the passing time. Of death and partings. The gods have forgotten that they may live long but even you have an end, it is the same thing that pains us yet we find delight in.”
He didn’t understand then, those words ring true and wise as Cloud Retainer’s advice to his ears on leading the people that he had now to care for. Even so, he still finds himself wondering, “What would Guizhong have done?”
In his heart, he knows that she would’ve understood and took a moment to explain; unlike the way time leaves nothing but confusion in its wake, only pondering and no straight answers?
Even as hundreds of years pass, when all that remains of that old woman is nothing but ashes on the soil and the land had been turned to marsh, the people traveling and settling in a mountain, and the war marching on to its bloody conclusion; Morax found that answer to be much like the dumbbell that he may never come to solve. 
But once more, reminiscent of his unexamined love with the goddess had bloomed too late, fate had played him right into its hands. 
Because the answer had come in the form of you- still a child, a bud in the nursery of glaze lilies under the morning sun. You and your small hands that gripped the end of his robes, with teary eyes that looked at the dying people and held these strangers hand in their last breath with as much intensity for a small comfort to let them know they did not die alone.
“Will the war end soon?” Your small voice asked him, even Mountain Shaper had not the stomach to look at a child’s plea for peace and spout lies.
“I am trying to end it, as fast as I can.” 
“Then this is for you.” You reached into your pocket and gave him a dried glazed lily contained in glass, “thank you for trying though we cannot give much back.” You bow, as courtesy knowing that you had just talked to the very god that protected the lands you step on and ran back to the shack that housed the sick and injured, your parents much too busy to notice you had snuck out. 
Blissfully unaware that the god of geo, gripping the gift in between his hands, amber eyes following your form and telling himself that humans have much to learn and yet they surprise him nonetheless, just like as his love used to tell him.
But even answers are confusing, much like a child who asks why is 1+1=2 and the process of it, he didn’t understand till he saw you once more. Not yet a lady but not quite the child that you used to be. Now you are the girl who provides healing, growing up to be a herbalist like your mother and no longer simply holding a basket of them for your father. Carefully, with your mortal hands you comfort the injured beyond salvation as the calamities of gods that hold much power rages on. 
Surrounded by dying men of the war, miasma, curses and death lurking in the air, in his eyes you remained untouched. Unblemished, as if the air in your little bubble had been purified by innocence and unconditional love for the crowd of strangers, neither pitying them for death nor numb to their tragedy. Then for a second he thought he saw her - the glaze lilies and the goddess that he loved so much and he begins to wonder if she’s come back to him through you.
“I should thank you for treating the wounded.” He tells the man before him, the bags of herbs laying behind his form and a sigil in hand, “use this in times of need, when the people are crying and I am away, surely the adeptis are quick to answer and would not turn you away.” 
“My lord, Rex Lapis, there is no need to thank us. Knowing that you protect the people is enough, we are just a family of healers who help the ones in need.” Your father was a grateful man, and he can see where you get your eyes, especially your kind heart who reaches out to those in need, not because he seeks power or his blessings.
“Even so, Liyue will remember your kindness but none more so than I, Rex Lapis.” 
He does not know if you remember him nor what you did, only that when he dons a mortal face to take a walk in the calms before the storm, he finds himself wandering to your garden, mostly on cold nights where you would just sing to the lilies and watch them, with unfading enchantment, bloom. 
In a distant memory of an old lover, he hears the same voice but now there stood you. Now a lady, barely a woman with your innocence and mischief.
And he knows that this is wrong, mortals are fleeting as the dust, that he can never grasp with his two hands. Wherever his heart is on anything, other than Liyue, it only ends in tragedy. And oh, how ironic of it all that if you really were his goddess that had found her way back to him, why this form? Why a mortal who is a flower that will wither compared to a mountain that does not crumble?
“It’s a beautiful song, pardon me for interrupting but may I know where you have learned it?”
“Only if you tell me what the god of earth is doing in a place like this, barely even concealed?” Playful, you smile at him playfully as if you knew all the time that he had spent staring from afar and he was not an immortal that could smite the very life out of those pretty eyes.
“The breeze carried your voice and I wondered where you had learned to entice it to your will.” He couldn’t really put a finger when it began, when your singing had lured him like a siren to the depth of the sea.
“You befriend the wind, unlike the earth, you do not command rather ask of it like a companion,” was your simple answer and he smiles like he has found something long lost. You drown him in your presence, but he is not breathless; rather he sighs filled with curiosity like a child who has more to learn from the world that he had been in for thousands of years. 
You who had rekindled a reason for his actions, much like Guizhong. This love does not ruffle his heart out of his rib cage, the dust settles and it is as calm as you talking about herbs in this small patch of garden late at night and as calm as the things settle falling into place in his beloved city by the gentle waves of the sea.
“What happened to them after?” You ask your husband, the snow falls outside and you are oh so exhausted to the bone as if the cold had taken all your warmth. He smiles and brushes your cheeks that lost their flush and your skin cold as a corpse, his arms glows gold in the intricate cracks, and you know that this is a bedtime story - though not quite for the night but for the long winter.  
The memory scratches at the back of your mind to be remembered, but a part of you warns that you wouldn’t like how it ends. 
“According to the books, the lord of geo took his love to the heavens.” He finishes with a chuckle of the irony in it all, a kiss to your temple as your eyes drop, heavy and slumber dragging you to its clutches.
Then finally, Zhongli smiles to bid you goodnight.
He watches you sleep soundly. Sleep if humans can even call it that with the lack of breathing, as still as a corpse that had died peacefully in bed while he is left to wonder of a future that had things ended the way his winter story did.
War ensures losts. Victories demand sacrifices. And the price to pay was always his love.
Zhongli would like to believe that had you died of a natural cause: sickness, accident or of old age where he would have held your aging body, he could’ve had the strength to let you pass on.
Rex Lapis would have had your funeral handled by the esteemed WangSheng, and took your passing as another promise to meet on the other side.
But Morax knows, he could never really.
Never let you go, even after thousands of years and all that you know had returned to the soil. Even when the truths of history had been forgotten by the people and you are nothing but a distant whisper to this land, a footnote to his folklore.
Not even now, when every winter is a reminder of the way he held your cold body against his chest, “I worry about you.” You told him with a supposed to be parting smile, how pitiful must he be for a dying mortal that had not even lived half their life to worry about him. 
“Why are you saying goodbye, my love? You aren’t supposed to say goodbye, not yet. It’s much too early,” He tells you with a broken laugh, the war is over like you had asked of him the first time. He is an archcon, the land is his to rule and care, and you are supposed to live many many peaceful years with him, but here you are the embers of war digs its claws in your frail body and had robbed you of life.
 Why does the war take and take and take and he who fights only lose things that he keeps to heart? 
He doesn’t relent, even if it means breaking the laws of nature itself.
Even when you wake in spring, and you look at him with those empty eyes and ask who he is. At Least you’re here, still there somewhere and it might take thousands of years and more, when the mountain has crumbled against time, one day he believes that you will wake again with love in your lips and warmth in your hands.
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liquid-luck-00 · 3 years
Text
Leave Her Alone
This is Part 4 of 10
#10: Leave him/her/them alone @zambie-trashart Prompt List
Part 1 *** Part 2 *** Part 3
SuperSons x Miracilous
~~~~~~~~~~
Two summers have come and past and she could genuinely say she considered Damian a friend. The last time they were together he called her a minor inconvenience, so she'll take that as a win.
She however wasn't expecting to he back in Gotham so soon. She along with seven others were chosen to represent D’Argencourt School of Fencing in an international competition. With challengers from eight total countries. Seeing as it was during the fall recess her parents allowed it, so long as she stayed with the rest of the fencing team and chaperones. They also knew that her Uncle wasn’t far and she had friends in Gotham, that and Ma and Pa invited her for thanksgiving. Having gained a sort of sixth sense when she would be in the states.
So here she is on a flight she makes usually once sometimes twice a year but now she knows her uncle and cousin weren’t waiting for her. She wasn’t going to metropolis she was going to Gotham. Maybe she should have text Wayne, if he refuses to call her Marinette, she refuses to call him Damian, call her petty. But she didn’t even know if he was free or even competing, so she hadn’t bothered.
What was a surprise was that Adrien, their best male fencer, was allowed to come, apparently his father was super strict, only letting him do specific activities. They had chatted a bit on the bus and then on the plane.
“Who would have thought that seeing eight kids walk into an airport with fencing foils would have caused so much commotion.”
“That would be the no weapons laws in place,” she answered not looking up from her reading. “No cutting or thrusting weapons are allowed on the plane and have to be properly secured.”
“That’s why they were put in that case M. D’Argencourt had?”
“Yes.” She stopped the flight attendant who was passing, and luckily it was one that she recognized. “Hello Miss Catalina.”
“Oh, if it isn’t little Mariposa. Wake you up for breakfast?”
“Yes please.” She smiled. “Thank you.”
“Mariposa?” Adrien asked after she walked away.
“Butterfly. Float like a butterfly sting like a bee. Right.”
“That defines your fighting style.”
“Now unless you’re a fan of jet lag, good night.” She fell asleep and ended up waking him up after Catalina woke her. They ate and had a bit of small talk until they landed and made their way to their hotel.
Okay Gotham isn’t the nicest place to ever go but they were in the nicer part of the city. They got settled then went to train for the upcoming three-day tournament. During the first day everyone only had one match but with four matches going on, two for each gender and one for each bracket, it was busy and quite a show. Mari was lucky enough to be one of the first to compete, so she spent the rest of the day watching the other competitors. The third match she noticed something eerily familiar from one of the male competitors.
“Figures you’d be here Wayne.” She snuck up behind him, making him turn.
“Surprised you would come at all.” He lighted his helmet. “Does Kent know you are here?”
“Probably by now he would have.” She shrugged. “Go change,” she shooed, “that way we can over critique everyone else.” He rolled his eyes while his teammates stared at her. “What’s your deal.” She rose a brow.
“Nothing!” Several of them shouted and scattered. If Damian Wayne listened to this girl, and they didn’t know who she was, she must be scary, because Damian is, and he doesn’t listen to just anyone.
“Should I be grateful that you managed to get rid of those leeches?”
“Seriously, manners Wayne, those were your teammates.”
“So?”
“Never mind I am not going to get anything through that thick skull of yours.”
“My skull is thicker than most but that nearly means it is more efficient for head butts.”
“Definitely not what I meant.”
“Then what did you mean Dupain?”
“It’s not important just that I can’t change your mind.” He was about to shoot back but she literally put a finger up to silence him. “Did you see that.” He looked towards where she was looking.
A female fighter, in all red, part of block D mercilessly attacked her opponent. In under fifteen seconds she scored each time, quickly accumulating her points.
“They are from the Tsurugi school in Japan, based off the uniform.”
“Figure that on your own Batman.” She rolled her eyes. “But I meant her form it was…”
“Exceptional for a competitor at this level.”
“Must you always be so condescending Wayne.”
“Mariiii,” they both heard a familiar voice drawing their attention away from the red fencer. If they hadn’t, they would have noticed that the same fencer was focused on them.
“Jon/Kent.” A body slammed into them, bu quickly pulled her in a hug spinning her in a circle.
“You should have told us you were competing here. I knew Damian was but you that’s surprising.”
“Come on it’s not that surprising.” They moved away from the crowd, making their way to the entrance hall.
“So, I heard there is going to be a demonstration match after all the preliminary matches are done.”
“How do you know this?” Wayne asked. At the question her cousin claimed up and would not meet their eyes. If both she and Wayne muttered ‘of course’ they figured the answer.
“So, what’s it supposed to be about?” She decided to ask.
“I don’t know I saw you and tuned that other conversation out.” She quite frankly face palmed while Wayne tsked at him. “What you only come once or twice a year and Damian was hogging you.” He whined.
“I was not hogging her, in fact…”
“We didn’t even know the other was competing. It was just a chance that I saw him and then we started judging the others.”
“You are ruining her!” Jon began to pout.
“Oh, quiet you, I want to scope out more of my competition.” She pulled her cousin while Damian walked slightly behind them. That was how they spent the rest of their time watching all matches. When all bouts were over, they split and went to their respective team.
“Now, I would like to begin with a round of applause for all competitors and especially for those moving on.” A judge took the stage. “Now as a demonstration match, every school has given two names which were placed into this lottery. The two called will hold a match, no matter the gender or their block. It will not affect their placement in this competition. Now let’s see.” He reached in and pulled two slips of paper. “Mr. Damian Wayne of Gotham and Miss Marinette Dupain-Cheng of Paris will be our competitors. If you are not yet dressed, please suit up.”
Soon after they faced each other.
Usually her fencing was quick, her foot work light, but against Wayne she knew she had to change tactics. She foot work still light but was grounded, she used more power than she normally would to be in the defensive letting him fall confident. But she alternated between her styles leaving him guess. The score was 7-7 the next touch wins, unknowingly this was one of two inter sex pairs to fight it out. Both of them were panting, neither ready to give up and neither willing to accept defeat. Mari knew that if she was to win against Wayne, she had to be sneaky. Halfway through her lunge she switched forms quickly thinking on her feet, becoming light, quick movements to heavier steps with quick jabs and even stronger swings with light steps. Being creative and spontaneous in her movements.
“Winner, Miss Dupain-Cheng.” A voice announced. Both of them stepped to the center of the mat and shook hands, then lifted their masks.
“You won.” He seemed slightly miffed.
“Oh, don’t look that surprised Wayne.” They walked off and she lightly bumped him. They both left for the day afterwards. She didn’t even pay attention to the whispers around her, ate and went to her room to sleep.
The next day was uneventful, they both had two bouts winning theirs, respectively. Unfortunately, they both had matches when they other was off. Jon would scramble between the blocks to cheer for each of them.
The last day they were given a reprieve before the finals. So, she was meditating along with Wayne, while Jon talked about something or another.
“Marinette!” She heard a cry coming towards her. She opened her eyes and there was was Adrien. “Iv3 been trying to find you all morning. I’m up against that guy you fought on the…” he went quiet probably finally noticing one of the two next to her. “You aren’t going to give me any hints, are you?”
“Just like I’m not giving him any on you.” Adrien looked like he was going to beg, and Wayne quirked a brow. “Thank goodness my match is before yours. Look I think of both of you as friends and I will not sell one out to the other.” She stood up. “Now if you’ll excuse me.” She went off to get ready for her match.
She was up against the same red fencer that she watched with Wayne. Kagami Tsurugi, competitor from Japan, they saluted one another and got in formation. They fought hard and she fought quick striking opportunely, but this girl fought like Wayne. Marinette knew that everyone was talking about the exhibition match, so she knows this girl saw it too. So, she decided to match her strength list of the time. The match was long, but Mari managed to hold a lead before again fighting on instinct, earning the win.
“That was a great match!” She extended her hand.
“I demand to see my opponents face.” Kagami ordered.
“Only if you show me yours.” Mari took off her helmet, but most had figured already. Kagami also removed her helmet.
“It was not good enough.” They shook Kagami turned on her heel and walked away.
“That was…” she saw Adrien come up next to her. “Amazing!!!”
“Okay, okay.” She giggled from under him. “Now go get ready.”
“Yes madam.” He rushed off. But as he did, she saw her opponent and a woman, and she was being scolded. Sure it wasn’t the nicest thing to snoop, but this one time shouldn’t hurt, right?
“Now what made you lose?” The woman asked.
“My opponent was unpredictable and her steps and swings contradicted one another.”
“That much was notable, but that does not answer the question, what made you lose?”
“I lost because I was unworthy of the blade in my hands.”
The woman was going to say something but she could not hold her tongue any longer. “First off leave her alone, second the reason she lost was not due to any technical or observable trait.”
“What are you doing, child?”
“I’m sticking up for the best female fencer here. The only reason I got the touch first was because I wasn’t thinking I was reading my opponent, until she couldn’t read me. I changed my forms so often during the match that if their was no impartial judge I would have lost.”
“What are you saying?”
“I’m saying that Tsurugi is the best technical fighter I have ever fought. That I would have certainly lost if I wasn’t spontaneous. That if I wasn’t so good at reading others, Tsurugi would have won.”
“What is your school, if I may ask?”
“The D’Argencourt School of Fencing in Paris, France, Madame.”
“Interesting, well we hope to see such a formidable opponent again.” The two turned and Kagami sent her a small wave before turning around.
“Why do I feel like I’m forgetting something… the match!”
“The Winner Mr. Damian Wayne.” The two shook hands and walked off.
She would have followed had she not spotted one of her favorite people in the states. “Dicky!” She jumped and he caught her on his back.
“Hey Mari, we saw your match earlier good job.”
“Thanks.” She then noticed Barbara, Alfred, and Bruce. She gave them all a nod and a smile.
“We would have talked to you sooner if we had known and if you and Damian didn’t disappear.”
“We would not have disappeared had you not have been so grating.” Wayne returned.
She shimmied off of Dick and stood next to him. “They aren’t too bad.” She stuck out her tongue.
“Yes, just as you are not a dolt for having missed the match.”
“How did?”
“Like I said a dolt.” He poked the center of her forehead.
“Oh har dry hard har Mr. ‘what did you say to my opponent about me’.” She bumped him slightly. “So where I’d Jon go?”
“Your Uncle Kent called him, he had to leave.” Bruce answered. “If you are worried on who is taking you we offered.”
“Okay. Let me just tell my coach about the change.” She rushed off to talk with M. D’Argencourt, because she was not about to miss thanksgiving with her Ma and Pa Kent.
~~~~~~~~~~
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The Rainbow Manor
pairing: platonic DLAMP  words: 5138 warnings: swearing, references to homophobia, toxic/homophobic parents, brief description of a small injury, blood, brief descriptions of panic/anxiety attacks, crying, angst
a/n - hello friends! hope everyone is doing well! i was lucky enough to be commissioned by the lovely @youronelesbianfriend to write this story (side note, their commissions are open too so...whatcha still doin here, go and do that!). i was overjoyed when i saw the prompt she gave me, and had such a good time writing it! (also inspired me to maybe formally advertise commissions? you can peek at my tumblr every now and then to see if i do, but if you also want one you can DM me!)
so without further ado, here is some content ✨
read on ao3!
The Rainbow Manor is a lot of things. 
It’s a home for the biggest family that could exist. It’s a safe haven from the cold, stormy outdoors. It’s the kind of blanket made of the same velvet the night sky is made of; it’s quiet, it’s warm, and it’s filled with stars. All it takes is one step inside and you would find yourself filled with a sense of belonging, of hope. 
You could run the furthest distance away from it all, and the Rainbow Manor would always open its doors to you. 
Patton would know. He was the first one to try. 
~*~ 
“Okay, so here’s what happened,” Roman Prince said, looking down at his clipboard as he weaved him and Patton through the halls. “I was going to show the new people around myself, but then I forgot the paperwork in your office — and then I realized, ‘hey, what better person to show them around than The Man himself!’; capital T, capital M!” 
Patton half-heartedly smiled as he snuck a peek at Roman’s papers. 
“How many are there?” 
“Three, so it won’t be too bad. One of them’s Virgil — you remember Virgil, right?” 
“Right.” Patton smiled fondly, remembering Roman’s birthday party last year. Him and Virgil had shown up covered in cake. He never really saw Virgil after that day, but clearly him and Roman stayed acquainted against all odds.
They turned a corner into the break room where three people sat around a table. Roman clapped his hands. 
“Alrighty! Sorry for the wait.” 
All three of them stood up. The one in the black and purple hoodie—the one Patton recognized as Virgil—rolled his eyes. 
“Waiting is part of the contract with you, Princey.” 
Roman faux-gasped. “Hey, that was one time! And if I didn’t take too long that day, we would have taken the wrong cake!” 
“We did take the wrong cake, Roman. That’s why it exploded.” 
“...Oh yeah.” Roman grinned. “Forgot about that.” 
Virgil shook his head, but showed a hint of a smile. Patton took a step forward to extend his hand out to him. 
“Nice to see you again, Virgil!” He then addressed the two behind him. “And if we’re talking cake, I guess you both can call me Patton-cake!” 
The one wearing a black, short-sleeve button up frowned, adjusting their thin blue tie. 
“I read on the website that your name is Patton Morgan.” 
“It’s like patty-cake, but Patton-cake!” 
“...Right.” 
“Ignore my friend’s simply lively commentary.” The last person stepped forward. They wore a pale-yellow button up under a grey vest. “That’s Logan. Do not be astounded by how that pencil is both sharp and dull — he’s always like that.” 
“And that’s Janus,” Logan seethed, crossing his arms. “They’re always like that.” 
Patton chuckled. “Well it’s nice to meet you both. I’ll show you guys around?” 
They all nodded, following Patton as he led them out the door. The icy awkwardness of first encounters fortunately thawed as conversation quickly blossomed. Patton learned that Logan was the new volunteer manager and was close friends with Janus, who was joining the growing team of counsellors. Virgil, on the other hand, was the newly-appointed social media and communications coordinator; a position Roman used to double as alongside being head of recreation and programming, until he overdid it with the website graphics and crashed the site for two days. Sometimes, change was necessary, Patton learned. 
“So that’s pretty much the whole place!” Patton said brightly at the end of the tour, stopping outside his office. He handed them their job description packages. “I hope you all get situated soon! And if you ever need anything, you now know where my office is!” He motioned to the door with jazz-hands. “Here!” 
“Thank you, Patton,” Logan hummed. He looked around idly. “I must say, I am rather impressed by how well-established and organized the facility is, especially for one that is fairly new.”
“Well call me corny, ‘cause all I can say is ‘aw shucks’!” Patton beamed. “You know, if you told me almost a year ago that I’d be standing here today, I think I’d be impressed too!” He nudged at Roman. “But I obviously didn’t do any of it alone. It’s the people that really make this place home — people like Roman, who’s been with me since the very beginning!”
“Oh, Patton! You make me sound like the hero of this place.” Roman pretended to flip his hair. “So thank you!” 
“A humble hero,” Virgil retorted. Roman just stuck out his tongue at him.
“But in all seriousness, Patton’s downplaying his efforts to the floor!” Roman wrapped an arm around Patton’s waist and pulled him in close. He waved out in front of him. “He’s a true phoenix who rose from the ashes and built this place with his own two hands!” Roman then spun Patton away from him, a trail of giggles following suit. “Plus he does a bunch of other stuff too! He has, like, a gazillion side-gigs, he sometimes volunteers at an animal shelter…” 
“It sounds like you may also be interested in a day off,” Janus piped up.
“It’s really not that much!” Patton awkwardly shuffled where he stood. “I...I like staying busy.” 
Janus tilted their head at him. “Right.” 
Patton shot them a quick smile before diving back into the end of their paperwork. Then the three of them, along with Roman, said their goodbyes and scattered to their respective offices. 
Patton leaned against his office door with a wry smile. They all seemed like nice people, he thought. He was lucky to have them. 
(Roman’s words from weeks ago echoed in his head; the same words that were said to him the night of his first breakdown, when they first called.
“You need all the help you can get, Pat.”) 
And he needed all the help he could get.
~*~ 
A few days later, Patton found himself leaning against the front of his desk, outstretching his hand towards the teen in front of him. 
“Jonah, your feelings are valid, no matter what they are.”
The words slid off Patton’s tongue almost effortlessly. Jonah sniffled. 
“I know, Pat. And– and I’ve already made a lot of friends here that have told me that. It’s been so good for me here, but…” Jonah buried their face in their hands. “Every night before I go to sleep, I can’t stop thinking about what they told me before they kicked me out. It’s like I get tunnel vision. I can see the person I have grown to be on the other side, but all I’m doing is going backwards.” 
Jonah looked up at Patton with teary eyes. “And I don’t wanna go back, Patton. I...I don’t want to go back.”
Patton felt a chill run through his spine. Quiet echoes buried themselves in the back of his mind. 
“I understand that it’s difficult to feel like you’re moving forward when it feels like the most important people in your life are pushing you back. And it...it sucks. I’m so sorry.” Patton swallowed down the temptation to cave as he continued. “I...I think all we can do is remember that those important forces in your life aren’t what’s given to you, but are what’s found. And I feel like you’ve done a lot of searching — for now, try and let yourself be found.”
Jonah broke into a small smile. Before Patton knew it, the teen stumbled forward into an embrace, holding Patton tight and crying. Patton’s hands hovered in the air behind their back, unsure of what to do. Eventually, Patton came to his senses and hugged them back. 
“I’m thankful I found this place,” Jonah mumbled into Patton’s chest. “It’s– it’s built on a lot of hope. I don’t think I could have found it anywhere else.” 
Patton’s heart shattered.
‘I wish I could give you more.’ He squeezed Jonah tighter. ‘I’d give you all I had, and you’d never know.’ 
Jonah left a few minutes later, thanking Patton for giving them a space to be honest. All Patton could do was nod numbly. He knew Jonah was new and it was hard to be new here, but Patton was certain that they’d find their place. The kids who came here always did. 
Patton walked around his desk to sit down. He took one look at his phone, frowned, then set it aside with a sigh. For a brief moment, Patton relished sitting in the precious silence that finally found his office. 
Then, a knock on his door. 
“Come in!” Patton said, straightening up and folding his hands neatly on his desk. The door cracked open and Logan’s head peeked in. 
“Is this a good time, Patton?” 
“Yeah, of course!” 
Logan stepped inside and handed some papers to Patton. 
“I filed through the volunteer applications and started arranging interviews in the coming weeks. I just wanted to run the dates by you before I start contacting people. Hopefully they suffice.” 
“Wow! Thank you, Lo.” Patton took the papers, slowly sifting through them. “These look really good! I’ll have a look at them tonight.” 
“Tonight?” Logan echoed. “Are you staying late again?” 
“Oh! Yeah, I am.” Patton shrugged. “Just a bit of extra paperwork.”
“Well if you require any assistance tonight, I can stay around–”
“No, no! That won’t be necessary.” Patton waved his hand dismissively. “Go and enjoy your night, Lo.”
Logan’s stare seemed to bury itself through Patton, enough for Patton to look away. 
“...Well, please do not hesitate to let me know if you need anything else.”
As Logan was leaving, Patton felt his phone buzz. He snuck a peek and paled.
‘Missed call(s): Mother (2) - 5:34 PM’
“Um, leave the door open, Lo!” Patton suddenly blurted out. Logan turned around and tilted his head. Patton flimsily added, “I– I think I’m going to try and get some air.” 
Logan nodded, lifting his hand off the door handle before walking out. Patton took a deep breath and then stuffed his phone in his pocket before leaving as well. 
Later that evening, Patton wandered into his office in a daze. He turned the lights on and inwardly groaned at the stacks of paper awaiting him. 
He dragged his feet to his desk, only stopping to check his phone. The ‘missed call’ notification lingered, except now the number was ‘3’. 
Patton felt his jaw tighten. He couldn’t run forever. 
As he sat down, he noticed a small cup behind one stack of paper. He grabbed it. The smell of coffee swarmed his head. He smiled, noticing a small sticky note on its side. 
“Keep up the great work. Your friend, Logan.”
 ~*~
“Okay everyone! Grab your brushes!” 
Patton blinked. Somehow, his memory of the manor floors failed him, and he ended up in the recreation room. He felt eyes stare up at him, Roman’s included.
“Ah, Patton! Man of the hour! What brings you here?” 
Patton sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck. “I, um, got lost! If you could believe it, heh.” 
“ ‘Lost’ is just a way of saying ‘found, but with a few extra steps’!” Roman motioned to an empty seat. “How about you join us for a bit?” 
Patton opened his mouth to protest, though felt cornered by all the expectant stares. He even spotted Jonah, who smiled and waved at him. Patton sighed. He had been wound up for days now; perhaps Roman’s theatrics was all he needed.
He finally nodded, going over to sit in front of the vacant canvas. Roman grinned at him with a warmth Patton let himself melt into. 
“Alright! Let’s begin.” Roman cleared his throat. “I want you to pull on the colours of your heartstrings. Forget form, structure– even an outline. Your emotions know no bounds, after all! Just remember, your hand is not controlling the brush — it’s your heart.”
Patton felt the words wash over him. Roman, of course, was right; he didn’t even notice his hand moving as he painted. Though somehow, it didn’t feel as peaceful as Roman described it to be. Instead, it felt like something was being pulled out of Patton, as though a claw was scooping something out of his chest and spilling it onto the canvas. 
Suddenly, his ringtone cut through Roman’s monologue. Patton jumped, dropping his brush. A line of paint dragged across the canvas as it fell. All eyes were on him again. 
“Um, excuse me! I– I’m just going to take this.” Patton pressed answer without looking at who called as he stumbled out of the room. 
“Hello?” 
“I see you’ve finally answered.” 
Patton’s heart dropped.
Roman was halfway through the end of his monologue when, in the corner of his eye, he spotted Patton re-enter the room, head ducked.
“Ah! I’m glad you’re back!” 
Patton nodded, but in the stilted way Roman quickly recognized. His eyes looked Patton up and down, barely listening to Patton’s stammering apology for interrupting. His hair was disheveled, which meant he ran his hand through it far too many times. His eyes were red, his jaw was tight– 
He was crying. 
“Anyway, I’m sorry again for leaving so soon!” Patton’s voice brought Roman back to reality. “Keep painting you guys! I gotta Van-Gogh!” 
A shaky laugh followed Patton out. Roman frowned, but he nodded for everyone to continue. He passed by Patton’s canvas and snuck a peek. 
It was rather abstract, with overlapping strokes forming a gradient. Roman’s gaze followed the gradient downwards. The canvas was filled with dull blues that turned into darkening greys. Towards the bottom was a thin line of black trailed all the way to Patton’s paintbrush, abandoned on the floor.
 ~*~
The sun sets on a long railroad, it goes past the horizon, it outstretches a hand like it’s beckoning, it’s begging you to run, run faster, everything is going faster and they just told you to go so you have to– 
“Pat?” 
Patton shot up in his seat with a yelp. He blinked quickly, vision focusing on the silhouette of–
“Virgil!” A strangled laugh escaped his throat. “Sorry, I didn’t hear you come in!” 
Virgil replied simultaneously, “No, I’m sorry, you just weren’t answering and I got worried, but I didn’t realize you were sleeping–” 
“Sleeping?” Patton looked down at the time. 5 PM. 
“Oh sh– shoot, I’m gonna be late.” 
“Late for?” 
“Animal shelter,” Patton mumbled, stumbling out of his chair and grabbing his bag. “I forgot that I said I’d come in today– gosh how could I forget–” 
“Hey.” Virgil rested a hand on Patton’s shoulder before Patton could go spiralling out the door. “Deep breath. I’ll drive you, it’ll be okay.” 
Patton opened his mouth to protest, but remembered the time. He sighed and motioned wordlessly at the door. Virgil nodded, leading the two of them out towards the parking lot.
“Anyway, I’m sorry if it’s a bad time, I was just hoping to run some website revisions by you,” Virgil said as he started the car and backed out of the lot. Patton shakily smiled. 
“No! It’s not a bad time at all, you can tell me about your ideas as you drive!” 
“There’s not much. I was just thinking of ways to maybe make it more approachable. There’s not even really an ‘about us’ page or anything about you–” 
“Why would there need to be anything about me?” 
Virgil looked at him, almost confused. “It’s an amazing organization, Pat. Your name should be up there, especially as the founder…?” 
“Oh! R-Right.” Patton let out a sharp laugh. “I guess I never thought about it before.” 
“I could put something together tonight, I was just thinking it'd be cool to hear you talk about it.” Virgil turned at an intersection. The sign of the animal shelter soon came into view. 
“I guess that’d be a good idea!” Patton shrugged. “But there’s, um, not really anything interesting to know.” 
Virgil frowned, falling quiet as he parked the car. When they stopped moving, Virgil turned to face him. 
“Say, would it be okay if I joined you?” Virgil shuffled awkwardly in his seat. “I, um, have a bit of a free night, and I was thinking that maybe I could just ask you stuff for the website now so I don’t have to bother you later…?” 
Patton’s eyes lit up. “Oh, that sounds perfect! Liz will probably be okay with it. I think it’s bath night for the dogs, and we can always use an extra hand with that!” 
Virgil chuckled, following Patton out the car and into the animal shelter. 
Patton gathered the energy he had left to greet Liz and everyone else, already cooing over the various animals he and Virgil passed by. They reached the back and, with only a bit of struggle (Patton would never admit to these cute dogs being a struggle), took each dog a bath. All the while, Virgil asked Patton questions about the Rainbow Manor and his life in general, which Patton did his best to answer.
“I ended up founding the Rainbow Manor a year after I graduated.” Patton wiped his brow as they finished drying the last dog. “I had been living on Roman’s couch for so long after being kicked out and I just wanted to turn it around; not only for myself, but for other people.”
Virgil’s stare softened. “I– I’m sorry. N-Not about how you founded the place but, like...why you felt like you needed to. That must’ve been hard.” 
“Yeah.” Patton forced a shrug. “It is what it is. Sometimes, you have to get lost to be found, right?” 
“Right.” Virgil looked up at Patton. “Do...do you still keep in touch with them? Your parents, I mean.” 
Patton felt his heart squeeze. 
“It’s been so long,” he finally said. “I doubt they’d want to talk to me.” 
Virgil offered to drive Patton back, but Patton insisted on taking a cab home. Virgil reluctantly conceded, but promised to email Patton when he drafted the additions to the website. Patton just nodded and watched Virgil drive off. 
When he was sure that Virgil was completely gone, he shakily pulled out his phone and called a cab. 
“Hi! I– I just need to go to The Rainbow Manor,” he said to the driver as he climbed into the car. He found himself laughing. “Long work day. It is what it is.” 
~*~
Days passed, and Patton’s workload somehow doubled: new admissions, new initiatives, new everything. 
(And his mother kept calling. And calling. And calling.) 
To say it was a lot was an understatement. 
Patton found himself going back and forth along the manor halls, forcing a smile at those he passed. He closed his eyes, turning a corner before he knocked into someone. 
“Crap! I– I’m so sorry.” Patton quickly scrambled to gather the papers that had fallen onto the floor. 
“Oh, don’t apologize, I always thought that important documentation would make for good confetti– ah, hello, Patton.”
Patton looked up. Janus appeared above him, outstretching their hand to help Patton up. Patton took it, scooping the papers up as he went. 
“Janus! Hi! Well, if you’re looking for me...here I am!” He laughed, though it sounded scratchier than expected. “Everything okay?” 
“More than, thank you. I just wanted to follow up about my schedule for the new admissions? You mentioned yesterday that I should come to you but I couldn’t find you…” 
Patton winced. His chest tightened.
“F– I forgot, goodness how am I always–”
“It’s quite alright, Patton, I can always–” 
“I–It’s not okay!” 
In the corner of his eye, Jonah passed by. He felt their wide eyes on him. The air grew thinner.
“It’s– gah, it’s never fucking–”
“Oookay. We’re not okay and that’s...okay.” 
Janus suddenly took Patton’s arm and led him to their office. They swiftly kicked the door shut with their foot as they let Patton settle on the couch. 
“Breathe for me,” Janus said slowly, pulling up a chair and sitting across from Patton. They took Patton’s hand and motioned for him to follow their lead. “In for 4, hold for 7, out for 8…” 
They repeated this a few more times until Patton let go of his head and his breathing evened out. 
“I– I’m so sorry, Janus. I don’t know what–”
“It’s fine, Patton. I’m glad I could help.” A pause. Janus leaned back in their chair. “Is there anything you want to talk about?” 
“No, everything’s fine.” 
Janus raised a brow. 
“Okay, everything’s not fine. But...but it will be fine. I have to be fine.” His mind drifted to Jonah. Patton buried his face in his hands. 
“I can’t be like this,” he said, tears threatening to fall. “I...I just can’t. Not now, this– this can’t be happening now.”
“Unfortunately, these things tend to find us — not the other way around.” Janus squeezed Patton’s hand in a sudden moment of softness. “I...I know what this is, Patton. And I don’t have to tell you what to do because I know you know. You help so many people like you, but remember: when the plane is falling, you have to put on your oxygen mask before you help someone else.” 
Patton locked eyes with Janus for a split second, opening his mouth to respond when he felt his phone ringing. Reflexively, he pulled it out in front of his lap. The air disappeared once more. 
‘Incoming call: Mother’ 
Patton quickly pressed ‘decline’. He then looked up at Janus, whose eyes darted upwards as well. 
Shit. 
“I– I have to go.” 
“Wait, Patton–” 
“Thank you for everything, Janus,” Patton mumbled, and before Janus could reply, Patton sped out of the room and slammed the door shut behind him.
 ~*~
“I just don’t get it,” Roman muttered, leg bouncing under the table in the break room. “I’ve never seen him like this before.” 
“You haven’t?” Janus circled the table like a hawk. 
“What makes you think I have?” 
“Oh, I don’t know! Maybe it’s the fact that he has about a thousand jobs! Or perhaps it’s that he’s been staying overnight every night to work as if he owns the place — oh wait! He does! But I have no idea why that might be stressful at all!” 
Roman glowered at them, but said nothing. 
“I can imagine that his workload presumably doubled this past month,” Logan, sitting across from Roman beside Virgil, adjusted his glasses. “Between the new admissions, growth in our volunteer admissions…” 
“Okay, so he has a lot on his plate!” Roman pinched the bridge of his nose. “But I’ve seen him stressed out about these sorts of things. This is different.” 
“So what else could be on his mind?” Virgil piped up. 
Janus suddenly stopped in their tracks. 
“His mother.” 
Roman’s heart dropped. “His– his what?” 
“She called him while Patton was in my office,” Janus murmured. “He left straight after.” 
Virgil frowned. “Why would he...” 
Roman felt as if he had burst into flames. The pieces clicked together in his head.
“The– the fucking nerve of that woman, I can’t believe she’s still–”
“Roman, what are you talking about?” Logan cut in.
Before Roman could respond, he felt a buzz in his pocket. He immediately pulled out his phone. His breathing hitched. 
‘Help.’
“It’s Patton,” he blurted out, stumbling out his chair and making his way out of the room. Everyone exchanged looks, but quickly followed suit. 
Roman weaved his ways through the halls until he neared Patton’s office. Loud sobs were muffled behind the door. Roman felt his heart breaking already as he opened it. 
And there was Patton, on the floor, crying, and surrounded by shards of broken porcelain. Roman recognized it as a vase he had painted for him years ago. He winced seeing small drops of blood surrounding the pieces. His eyes quickly scanned the room as Logan immediately tended to Patton. 
“What happened, Patton?” Logan murmured as Patton curled up closer to him, sobs still wracking his body.
“I– I’m so sorry.” Each word sounded like it was forced out of his lungs and into the air. “I– I tried to clean up, I’m sorry–” 
“Shh, Patton. It’s okay.” Janus knelt down beside him, carefully lifting Patton’s wrist to examine his hand. A long cut ran across his palm. Janus looked up at Roman and Virgil.
“There’s a first-aid kit in my office, as well as a broom and dustpan. Can one of you grab it?” 
Virgil nodded wordlessly, exiting the room. Roman noticed Patton’s phone beside Patton on the ground, and reached over to pick it up. 
“What did she say, Pat,” Roman asked, fear edging the quiet of his voice. The words seemed to stab at Patton and let out more sobs. 
“She– she found out about everything,” Patton wheezed through tears. “The– the Rainbow Manor, where I am– she wants to take it all– she can’t take it all–” 
“Patton, I need you to follow my breathing, okay?” Janus interrupted, motioning at their chest with their hand as they inhaled and exhaled. “Can you see my hand? I want you to try and follow along, okay? 
Patton numbly nodded, trying to breathe through hiccups and sobs. Janus repeated the exercise with Patton for at least fifteen minutes, with Virgil returning halfway and Logan moving to sit in front of Patton to start tending to the cut. Virgil carefully swept around Roman, Janus, Logan, and Patton on the floor. 
“Whatever she told you, it isn’t true,” Roman said after Patton’s breath had evened out. “She can’t touch you here, not with us around.” 
“I– I know,” Patton sniffled. Logan finished bandaging Patton’s hand and offered him a tissue from the box on his desk. “She said so many awful things, but– but the scariest part is that she didn’t stop at just saying things.” 
“What do you mean?” Logan murmured. 
“She...she threatened to shut the Rainbow Manor down.” 
“What?!” Roman shot up from the floor. “But– but she can’t–” 
“You know my mom, Roman,” Patton whimpered. “She has connections all over the city. If she wanted to, she would find a way.” 
“So why hasn’t she?” Janus asked quietly. A beat of silence. Patton brought his knees closer to his chest and buried his face between them. 
“She– she wants a percentage of the donations,” Patton finally admitted. 
“What the fuck,” Virgil growled, stopping in his tracks. 
“I know! It’s– it’s impossible, I–” Another sob. Logan and Janus moved closer to him, with Janus putting their arm around his shoulder. 
“What did you tell her?” Janus pressed on. 
“I– I told her no! Even if I wanted to, I can’t, but– but what else can I do?” Patton looked at his bandaged hand and grimaced. “And of course she got mad, and I freaked out, and I knocked over the vase– god, Roman, I’m sorry about the vase–” 
“The vase is replaceable,” is all Roman said. “You aren’t.” 
Patton just nodded, looking up at the four of them in his office with teary eyes. 
“What am I going to do?” 
Everyone exchanged looks. Roman lowered himself back to the floor beside Patton and wrapped him in a warm hug.
“You’re not going to do anything,” Roman said firmly. 
“Roman…”
“All your life, you’ve taken care of people like they were your family, Patton. Please, let your family take care of you.” 
Patton sniffled, looking around him. Virgil, Logan, and Janus nodded with small smiles, moving closer to him and joining the embrace. 
And Patton just nodded, dissolving into tears; except this time, Roman could feel the relief from them. He felt Patton melt in his touch and smiled to himself, a similar relief washing over him as well. 
(And for a moment, just a brief moment, Patton was home.)
~*~ 
One week later…
“Keep your eyes closed…” 
“Roman, I don’t know how many more walls I can keep bumping into!” 
“Just a little longer, I promise!”
Patton giggled, letting himself be led by Roman through more halls. Then, Roman stopped him. 
“Okay, you can open your eyes in 3...2–” 
“I’m opening them now, I’m too excited!” Patton squealed, and then opened his eyes. Suddenly, a burst of colour flooded his vision. 
“Surprise!” a chorus of voices exclaimed. 
Patton broke into a wide smile, blinking to focus on the sight in front of him. He was standing in the recreation room, with a big banner hanging from the back wall reading, “Happy Birthday, Rainbow Manor!”. Beneath it was a table with a cake, which was surrounded by Janus, Virgil, and Logan, alongside a bunch of other teens Patton recognized. Even Jonah was there, wearing a small party hat with a confetti popper in his hands. 
Patton felt tears well up in his eyes. “Oh my gosh, I can’t believe you remembered!” 
“Of course, padré!” Roman grabbed Patton’s arm and led him around the table to stand in front of the cake. “Always normal for a family to celebrate the man who built their home!” 
“Oh, Roman!” Patton leaned against his shoulder, sniffling. “It’s perfect.” 
He then looked at Virgil, Logan, and Janus. “I can’t believe you guys set this all up, it must’ve taken forever!” 
“Actually, it just took a day,” Logan hummed. 
“And the cake doesn’t explode,” Virgil said with a small finger salute. “I checked.” 
“Additionally, we understand that presents are customary at a party,” Logan continued. “So while our present is not materialistic, we do hope it suffices.” 
“Oh?” 
“Sir Nerds-A-Lot is trying to say that we’re pitching in to give you a few days off!” Roman declared. “We handled a few responsibilities over the weekend while you were home, and split your workload for the week ahead! Consider this the fabulous gift of time!” 
“Oh you guys! You didn’t have to!” 
“But we did, and we did so gladly,” Logan said with a nod. 
“Also–” Janus leaned over to quietly whisper in Patton’s ear– “I took care of your mother.” 
Patton frowned. “You...what? Is– is she…” 
“She’s fine, but she won’t be bothering you for a long time.” Janus winked. “Let’s just say I know people too.”
Patton exhaled a breath he felt he was holding onto forever. He nodded graciously at Janus as Roman handed him a cake-cutter. 
“Alright! Before you take the first slice, you gotta make a wish!” Roman motioned at the lit candles on the cake. Patton stepped forward, closed his eyes for a brief moment, and then blew them out. 
Everyone cheered as Patton was surrounded by hugs and laughter. He felt Janus, Logan, Roman, and Virgil crowd around him as they started to help hand out cake to all the teens. 
And in the back of his mind, his wish echoed in his head. 
‘I hope to always be able to share this home with my family.’
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