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#IT IS SEVEN IN THE MORNING I CANNOT DEAL WITH THIS.
theemporium · 7 months
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[4.1k] as it would turn out, you were serious about your offer. and luke was serious about accepting. it was just going to take a while for his body to remember that this was a glorified business deal between friends and nothing more. and he was definitely okay with that. (smut)
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Stupidly, Luke didn’t think you were actually serious. 
In his head, the whole thing felt like a fever dream, starting from the moment he spilled his drink all over you leading to the moment you blatantly asked him if he wanted you to take his virginity. It felt like one of those weird dreams that made you wake up confused and bleary and unsure what year it even was, one of those dreams that linger in the back of your head for a few days before you eventually forgot about it.
Luke would have bet money on the whole thing being a weird dream that was haunting him if it weren’t for the fact he woke up one morning, a few days  after the party, with a message from you on his screen. 
cherry🍒: on a scale from one to ten, how likely are you to spill your drink on me again?
cherry🍒: also my place or yours? 
He stared at the messages for an embarrassingly long time, like he was staring at the proof the whole thing wasn’t some messed up dream in his head. Luke had spent the better part of the summer wondering what would have happened if he had asked for your number that night like Jack always teased him about, and now he wasn’t quite sure what to do with himself with it being a reality. 
hockey boy: i cannot promise anything 
hockey boy: you are welcome to come to my place but jack will probably be here so…
hockey boy: he’s nosy 
hockey boy: and annoying 
Luke frowned at himself, finger hovering over the messages like he would have a chance to delete them before you saw them, all one after the other like he was twelve and didn’t care about double texting. Or quadruple texting. But before he could even try to hide his own embarrassment, you were typing again.
cherry🍒: my place it is then
cherry🍒: see you at seven ;)
He also didn’t care to admit how long he stared at that message before he dragged himself out of bed, trying to ignore the odd buzz itching under his skin. It wasn’t even nine in the morning and his head was already spinning.
Luke was thankful enough that it was still preseason, that there wasn’t a game he had to prepare for because he wasn’t even sure he could concentrate on anything but your messages. He had noted Jack giving him odd looks whilst they both got ready for training, giving him more space than usual as they moved around the flat (which was odd considering Jack was usually glued to his side and pissing him off whenever he got the chance). 
However, the overbearing older brother role didn’t completely disappear. 
“Are you sure you’re okay?” 
“Yes, Jack.”
“You’re not sick or anything?”
“I’m literally fine.” 
“Because we can tell the trainers—”
“Oh my god, dude,” Luke groaned, sinking further into the passenger seat as he shot his brother a look. “I’m fine. Calm down. You sound like Quinn.” 
“Sorry for caring,” Jack retorted, his fingers tightening on the wheel before his shoulders sagged. “I’m your older brother and it’s your first year in the NHL. I just wanna make sure you’re doing alright, okay? The last thing I want is you having a shit rookie year.”
But the rest went unsaid. I don’t want you having a shit rookie year like I did.
Luke softened a little. “M’fine, promise. I’ll let you know when I need my big brother, okay?” 
Jack sighed, a small smile on his face. “Okay.”
“Now, can you please shut up so I can sleep until we reach the rink?” 
Jack snorted in response. 
Though the conversation seemed to settle the worries his older brother had, Luke knew the other boys on the team were giving him the same looks of concern. It wasn’t as though he was playing badly, it was just very clear to everyone on the team—players, coaches and trainers alike—that Luke was distracted. 
He had half the decency to be a little embarrassed when he overheard Jack reassure a few trainers that it was just rookie nerves. 
But he felt restless, like he couldn’t quite keep still or focus on one thing. He felt like there was a buzz resonating through his bones, making him painfully aware of his plans later tonight. It was like an anxiety settled at the pit of his stomach, constant and foreboding and eating away at him as the minutes slowly dragged on through the day. 
It was horrible and exhilirating in the weirdest possible way.
Luke had managed to make it through the rest of training, managed to avoid any stern talkings from the coach but unable to avoid the one from Nico in the locker room. It was sweet and awkward all at once, especially when the rest of the team were clearly listening in to make sure one of the new rookies were doing fine. The Devils were like a family and usually he would appreciate it. 
However, he wasn’t exactly going to dive into the fact he was unfocused because a pretty girl offered to take his virginity to his captain or the rest of the team. He didn’t even want to imagine how that would have played out. 
But it was sweet to know the team had his back, that they saw him as his own person rather than just Jack’s little brother who was tagging along.
Luke was relieved when you had mentioned him coming over to your place for your meeting later that day. Yet, what he failed to take into consideration was the fact his brother would still be a nosy shit on his whereabouts. 
“Where the fuck are you going?” 
Luke froze, keys gripped in his one hand and his phone in the other with your address already typed into Google Maps. He cleared his throat, trying to ignore his pounding heart as he turned to Jack with a (hopefully) nonchalant look on his face.
“Just going to hang out with some friends,” he replied vaguely with a shrug of his shoulders.
Jack paused, the spoonful of rice hovering just above his plate as he narrowed his eyes at Luke. “Is Nico hosting some rookie thing or something?”
“Uh no,” Luke cleared his throat.
Jack frowned. “Is there a team thing happening tonight that I forgot?” 
“No, uh,” Luke shuffled awkwardly, feeling like an interrogation spotlight was shining on him. “It’s nothing with the team.”
Jack raised his brows. “But you don’t have other friends outside the team.” 
Luke frowned. “Yes, I do.”
“No, you don’t,” Jack retorted. “Unless you’re a part of a book club or something.” 
He shot his brother a confused look. “Why would that be the only reason I have friends outside of the team?”
“I don’t know, college and shit,” Jack answered like that explained something.
“You’re such a weirdo,” Luke grumbled before he turned on his heel, making his way towards the door again. 
“Are you at least gonna tell me when you’ll be back?” Jack called out to him, a hint of older brother overbearingness in his voice. 
“Not sure.” 
“I—” He heard Jack shuffle to stand up, his dinner now abandoned on the coffee table as he made his way over to Luke. The look of concern from earlier that morning was back on his face. “What dodgy shit are you up to that you can’t just tell me?” 
“Jack,” Luke groaned, his voice tilting towards whiny as he let out a huff of annoyance. “I’m just going out to see a friend. Nothing dodgy, I promise.”
Jack didn’t say anything at first, just letting a slow smile spread across his face.
He frowned. “What?” 
“Friend, singular,” Jack pointed out before he let out a bark of laughter, playfully punching his little brother’s arm. “Aw, little Lukey is sneaking out to hook up with a girl!”
His cheeks burned. “Shut up.”
“Fucking finally, I thought you were going celibate for your rookie year or something!” Jack continued to tease him. “Who is it? Do I know her? Oh my god, is it the girl from the party? Do you have a secret girlfriend?”
“I am leaving now!” Luke shoved him away, making a beeline for the door as Jack continued to cackle behind him. 
“Do I need to give you a curfew?” 
“Fuck off!” 
He could still hear Jack laughing when he slammed the door shut behind him.
His body felt like it was on autopilot once he got behind the wheel. He followed the instructions spoken through his GPS, kept his concentration on the road—on the journey—rather than the destination. He tried to pretend like he was just going to hang out at a friend’s, that he was back in Michigan going to one of his teammate’s houses he didn’t live with. 
It was fine. 
Everything was fine.
Except for the fact that once he reached your door, closed fist hovering over the wood, he felt like his body was buzzing too fast to keep up with and all the pent up anxiety over the day was about to make him explode. 
He didn’t even realise he had knocked until the door swung open and you stood on the other side, grinning at him like it was a normal Sunday evening. You were dressed cosy, casual even. Just a pair of leggings, a baggy shirt and some fluffy socks that had—ironically enough—cherries printed on them.
“You’re early,” you noted. 
Luke’s stomach dropped a little. “Oh shit, I’m sorry—”
“I like my men eager, you’re fine,” you said as you waved him off, unaware of the fact your words just made his body feel like it was on fire for a whole other reason as you grabbed his hand and dragged him inside. 
His eyes wandered over your apartment, taking in the small knick knacks that decorated the place. It was smaller than his and Jack’s apartment, but it felt more homely. His place had a habit of looking a little clinical, like a showroom they had moved into rather than an actual home. But between training and travelling and not really caring, neither he nor Jack had bothered to change it. 
But, looking around at the small details of your apartment as you led him towards your living room couch, Luke found it endearing that he could see small insights into your personality.
“You still like Coke, right?” 
His eyes snapped back to you, a light blush on his cheeks when he found you staring at him with intent. “Uh yeah, Coke is good.” 
He settled down on the seat, awkwardly perched on the edge whilst you curled up in the sport next to him with your feet tucked underneath him. He tried to swallow the ball in the back of his throat, eyes wandering over the room once again before they landed back on you. 
“Your place is really nice—”
“Tell me about hockey.” 
Luke blinked. And then blinked one more time before he remembered to speak.
“What?”
“Tell me about hockey,” you repeated. 
“You want to know about hockey?” He questioned, his brows furrowed together and suddenly the panic he felt moments ago was overwhelmed by his confusion. 
“Well, no, I don’t really know anything about it,” you admitted with a shrug. “But you’re so tense over there like you’re about to enter the Hunger Games or something, I thought talking about something you enjoy would help you relax.” 
Something in his chest stirred at your confession. “Oh.” 
“Just relax,” you said as you lightly pushed him back until he was no longer sat on the edge of the couch. However, Luke’s body didn’t seem to catch the hint, something that was very clear with how tense he still looked sitting next to you. “We aren’t going to do anything tonight,” you assured him, your hand dropping to his forearm to give it a small squeeze. 
He didn’t know if he was relieved or disappointed. “We aren’t?”
You shook your head, a soft but cheeky smile on your lips. “You need to build up your confidence a little, to really feel comfortable with everything. There’s more to sex than just sleeping with someone.”
He blinked. “There is?”
“Yes,” you laughed, but it wasn’t directed at him. He didn’t feel dumb for asking you questions. “So just take a breath and relax. Now, hockey—what’s the big deal?” 
Luke couldn’t help but snort. “The big deal?”
“Yeah, why do you like it?” You asked. “I mean, you love it enough to make it your job.” 
Luke smiled and there was something less heavy in his laugh—but hockey always tended to have that power over him. He knew hockey. He lived for hockey. It was as calming as it was exhilarating. It was what his whole world revolved around since the day he was born. 
“I come from a big hockey family,” Luke told you. “I could skate before I could properly walk, to be honest. It’s just something that’s always…been there. I couldn’t imagine my life without it.” 
“Do you enjoy it?” 
Luke raised his brows in surprise. “No, I just do it to torture myself.”
“Okay, smart-ass,” you rolled your eyes at the boy, and he tried not to think about how endearing the action was. “I mean, you said it’s been in your life forever. Do you enjoy it or is it just familiar?”
There wasn’t even a moment of hesitation before he answered.
“I love it,” he replied honestly, sinking a little further into the couch as he turned his head to look at you. “It was always there but I also always sought it out, you know? I wanted hockey as much as hockey wanted me.” 
“Lucky thing you were good enough to go pro, huh?” You remarked, a teasing glint in your words. 
Luke’s lips twitched upwards. “Yeah, lucky me.”
“So, do you, like, fight people and shit?” 
He snorted, the noise a little surprising but welcomed nonetheless. “Yeah, sometimes.” 
“Damn, the two hockey videos I watched before you came weren’t lying then,” you mused. 
And, fuck, his chest was doing that funny-tightening thing again. 
“You watched some videos before I came?”
“Colour me curious,” you answered with a casual shrug of your shoulders.
He swallowed. “Did you like what you saw?” 
Your lips pulled upwards into a smirk. “Flirting with me now, Hughes?” 
In an instant, Luke’s cheeks instantly burned a red shade with a mix of embarrassment and self-consciousness washing over him. “I’m sorry about that—”
“I never said I didn’t like it,” you interrupted, watching as his eyes widened a little in surprise. But the colour remained on his cheeks. It was cute, if you were being honest with yourself.
“Oh?”
“You’re not a shy guy, Luke, I’ve seen the way you are on the ice. You just need to bring that confidence off the ice too,” you told him, shuffling a little closer to him until your knee was almost brushing his thigh. “Think of this…what we are doing…as your training.” 
“My training?” 
“Mhm,” you nodded as your palm landed on his thigh, right above his knee. He was so painfully aware of your hand, of the way your touch felt like it was burning through the fabric of his sweatpants to touch his skin. “Gonna help you go pro.” 
His eyes darted down to your hand before it snapped back to your face. “Cherry—” 
“Can I kiss you?” 
He blinked. “You’re asking me?” 
“It’s sexy to ask,” you told him, your thumb lightly rubbing a small line just above his knee. You shifted a bit closer, watching the way his eyelids fluttered slightly. “Consent is really, really sexy.” 
“Really sexy,” he repeated, eyes locked in on your lips. 
“Can I kiss you?” You asked again, squeezing his leg a little to emphasise your need for him to verbally answer. 
“Yeah,” he managed to mutter out, a slight crack in his voice but you didn’t seem to care as you closed the distance between you.
Your palm was soft and warm against his cheek, guiding his head until you pressed your lips against his. It was a soft kiss, almost sweet in a way. And maybe something about the tenderness of it all washed away the unease in his chest, that lingering anxiety that he had been smothered in since he woke up. It was like the kiss washed away the lingering concerns in his head, the ones that told him this was some twisted dream or malicious ploy.
You just wanted to help, you wanted him relaxed when he was with you. 
And Luke had half the mind to trust you would do just that after the initial kiss. 
Your thumb slightly swept along the high of his cheekbone, soft and reassuring as he sunk further into the kiss. He seemed happy to let you take control, to let you decide how fast or passionate it was. He seemed happy to just follow. 
“Better than hockey training?” You murmured against his lips between kisses, the light smacking noises a vague echo in his ear but he didn’t even have it in him to be embarrassed.
“Mhm,” he hummed as he ducked his head back down, eager to press his lips against yours again. 
“Impatient,” you teased but didn’t hesitate to kiss him back. “Feeling confident already, Hughes?” 
Luke could feel your smile against his lips. “Maybe.” 
“Good,” you stated simply and before he got the chance to realise what you were doing, before his brain had even fully processed you had asked him a question, your leg was thrown over his body and you were straddling his lap.
Luke pulled back a little, looking up at you with his cheeks flushed. “Oh.” 
“Remember, this is just your training,” you reassured the boy, though it was hard for him to focus on the words coming out of your mouth when your lips were red and kiss-swollen and probably a mirror image of his own. “Just practise, yeah?”
“Just practise,” he confirmed with a nod. 
“So practise,” you told him as you reached for his hands where they awkwardly hung at his side. You gripped his wrists, giving them a small squeeze before you rested them on your waist.
He swallowed. “Oh.” 
You raised your brows. “This good?” 
“Mhm,” he nodded.
“Luke,” you prompted until his glossy eyes found yours. “We can stop any time you want. Just say the word, okay?” 
“I don’t wanna stop,” he reassured you, his hands giving a testing squeeze on your waist. “Not right now, at least. Promise.” 
And when you smiled at him, he could have sworn his heart was about to beat right out of his chest. 
His chest was thudding with each racing beat, blood roaring in his ears and butterflies exploding in his fucking chest when you leaned down to kiss him again. It’s like his brain was locked in on you at this very moment, not a care or concept for the world beyond this apartment. It was just about you, you, you.
And then your hands were pushing through his hair, fingers tangled in his curls as you tugged his head back until the column of his neck was exposed to you. 
Luke was almost embarrassed of the whimpering noise that left his lips when you tugged on his curls, a dull but desirable pain coursing through his whole body before your lips explored his neck. His breathing was heavy, borderline panting as your teeth scraped along the sensitive spot just below his ear. And, fuck, he felt like his whole body was on fire. 
“Hmmm, pretty noises,” you murmured against his neck, wet and sloppy open-mouthed kisses pressed against his skin as his body squirmed beneath you. “You gonna keep making them for me, baby?”
He nodded.
“Yeah?” You nipped his skin lightly, almost teasingly, as his hips bucked up on instinct. “Keep moaning f’me, baby, let’s see what you like.”
His grip on your waist only tightened as you continued to explore his body, as you tried to find the spots that had him whining and panting beneath you. And just when Luke thought he had a hold on himself, when he could handle the way your hands felt in his hair and your lips on his neck, your hips slowly rolled down against his and he could feel a rush of pleasure race down his spine.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he choked out between broken moans, head thrown back against the back of the couch and eyes clenched shut. “Please. More.”
“You want more?” Your warm breath fanned against his cheek as you lifted your head, hooded eyes watching the way his face scrunched up in pleasure as you continued to rock against him. “Keep making those pretty noises, baby.” 
The whimper he let out made his cheeks and neck burn bright red. 
“Look at you,” you mused, the bulge in his sweatpants pressed against you as you continued to grind down on his lap. “Doing so well for me, telling me what you want.”
And it was too much. 
The constant stream of praise leaving your lips, the way your face was inches away from him—even if his eyes were shut—with your breath hot against his cheek. The way your hips rocked against his hard cock, the way it was straining beneath the boxers he was wearing. The way your fingers gave another experimental tug on his curls and he saw white. 
His grip on your waist was almost bruising with how tight it was, the way he held onto you as his hips bucked to meet your thrusts, the way your name left his lips on a loop as a hot flush of pleasure washed over his body, as you guided him through it. 
And once his brain had caught up—once he was sure his heart wasn’t going to jump out of his chest—he was painfully aware of the sticky mess in his sweatpants. 
“Oh my god,” he muttered, his whole body burning with embarrassment as he looked up at you. “I am so sorry—” 
“For what?” 
“I—” His eyes fell shut, his body wanting nothing more than to curl in on himself. “I’m sorry, that was embarrassing.” 
You frowned. “What was? The fact you came?” 
His stomach twisted a little.
“Luke,” you murmured, and he could feel your hands cupping his warm cheeks but he didn’t have the courage to open his eyes just yet. “If I didn’t want you to come, I wouldn’t have been grinding on your dick like that.” 
He finally looked at you, but the hot shame remained. “You didn’t even…” 
“Get off?” You supplied and he looked sheepish as he nodded. “I can still enjoy something and find it hot without getting off, Hughes.”
His brows furrowed together. “I thought the whole point was that you were teaching me how to make you feel good. For womankind.” 
You snorted, grinning down at the boy. “That doesn’t mean you can’t get off too.”
Luke’s lips parted with a silent ‘oh’.
“I’ll grab you some sweatpants to change into,” you told him as you shifted off his lap, looking down at his flushed cheeks and dazed eyes. “You’re a good student, Hughes.”
He raised his brows. “Yeah?” 
“Yeah,” you grinned back at him, and his chest did that funny thing again. “And I wasn’t lying. You make pretty noises. I like my boys vocal.” 
And Luke was thankful you disappeared down the corridor after that, saving him from even attempting to come up with a response. 
And he was shocked that once he cleaned up as best he could in your bathroom, you patted the spot next to you on the couch and told him to choose a movie whilst you ordered in some food. 
It was almost laughable to think about how anxious he had been all day, only to lead up to him sharing a pizza with you with some old Jim Carey comedy playing in the background like you two really were just friends. Like you were just hanging out and enjoying each other’s company. Like you hadn’t just made him come in his pants like he was some wound up teenage boy. 
It made his head spin, in a good way. 
And when he was dragging his feet through the front door of his apartment a little after midnight, there was a voice in the back of his head that was telling him this was risky, that he shouldn’t have felt so giddy or jovial after he had seen you. 
You were just training him, helping him. You were just his friend. 
But, for right now, Luke was happy to ignore the logical voice in the back of his head and instead focus on the fact that maybe—just fucking maybe—you were right and this whole virginity thing was far more bigged up in his head than he realised. 
You were his friend. And he knew you were just his friend. 
Who cares if his body took a little longer to remember than his brain did?
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Practice On Me — Part Seven — Azriel x Reader
Note: I hope you enjoy this part because I’m not overly happy with how it’s written, I don’t know why 😭probably just me being a DUMBASS. Also, it’s still not letting me tag some of you 😩anyone know why?
Summary: The Bat Boys are worried about reader. Cassian’s getting a little suspicious of Kaeda. Azriel is really, really missing his friend.
Word count: 7k.
Warnings: Some injury detail.
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“He cannot do this. Surely, he cannot fucking do this.”
Azriel slams his fist on the table so hard that ale sloshes over the lip of a mug. The atmosphere in the mead hall is unusually calm tonight. There’s more laughter than arguing, and some dickhead with a lute is even providing the attendants with music. But at the centre table, a cloud of doom darkens the mood.
Everyone has wisely given Rhys, Cassian and Azriel a wide berth.
Tensions are high. Something’s got to give.
“His role in this camp is to oversee our training.” Az balls his fists. “Not to get involved with how we spend our time outside of it.” He eyes Cass and Rhys opposite him. “Right?”
“Technically, yes.” Rhys confirms. “But as the overseer of said training, he also has the authority to remove any distractions as he sees fit.”
“Distractions? She’s our friend, not a fucking toy—”
“I’m just putting it to you straight, Az. It’s the typical Illyrian attitude rearing its ugly head. All four of us made the decision to go to Fenlaros, and yet it’s the female who shoulders the blame.”
“It’s fucking ridiculous.” Cassian finally speaks up.
He hasn’t said much. Too busy thinking about last night.
Nobody knows a thing about that wild, impulsive fuck except him and Y/N. He plans to keep it that way. Not out of any sense of regret, but…he doesn’t know. His brain is ticking over.
He can’t help wondering something that’s never occurred to him before.
Is Y/N branded a certain way by Illyrian ideologies because the closest people to her are males? Has she unfairly gained a reputation — one that would be made worse if what she and Cassian had done became common knowledge?
He doesn’t want to be the reason she gets more shit thrown her way. He’s starting to think he should think harder before he acts. Maybe last night was a mistake. He can’t even see Y/N to talk it through with her.
“So what do we do?” Az is asking as Cass zones back in. “There’s got to be something. Do we take the matter to your father?”
Rhys cocks an eyebrow. “Be real for a second, Az. My father would laugh us out of Velaris. He doesn’t concern himself with trivial camp matters.”
“Y/N having to choose between an abusive household or perishing in the snow is not a trivial matter.”
“To him, it is. He’d tell Devlon to lead and do what he believes is right. Which, he already has, even if we don’t agree with it.”
“Well that’s bullshit. We can’t just lie down and do nothing—”
“I’m not saying that, Az—”
“What about your mother? She adores Y/N. Surely she could appeal to your father—”
“No. She’s pregnant. She stays out of this.”
“Then what do you suggest, Rhysand?”
“How about you start by explaining to Cass and I what’s gotten into you recently?”
Finally, Az has nothing to say. He goes silent. Still.
He stares back at his two friends like he can’t imagine why they would wonder such a thing.
And then he purses his lips. “I don’t know what you mean.”
Cassian scoffs. “Please. Even I think you starting fights left and right has been extreme.”
“Fuck you. You’re totally exaggerating.”
Rhysand raises an eyebrow. “If you say so.”
“I do.”
“We’re just worried that your behaviour has changed since Kaeda came into the picture—”
“You know what I’m worried about?” Az snaps. “Our friend who is literally homeless as of this morning. That’s a little more important, don’t you think?”
Yes…and no. It’s not that Cassian and Rhys don’t agree. It’s just that…that all roads lead back to Kaeda. And that’s becoming a problem.
“We’re not just going to leave Y/N to deal with this alone, Az.” Rhys tells him. “We just need to be careful about how we deal with it. Devlon isn’t messing around. I don’t want us to cause her more trouble.”
As folds his arms. “So what do you suggest?”
“I’ll talk to Y/N’s friend — Vegha. I’m sure she can open her home to Y/N while we figure things out. Just don’t do anything impulsive or stupid.”
That seems to appease Az a little. He sits back in his chair — allows himself to be a bit more open.
Until Cass totally fucking ruins it and says, “And don’t go starting any more fights just to impress Kaeda.”
Az says again, “Fuck you.”
Cass returns a withering look. “Fuck you right back.”
“Productive.” Rhys comments, shaking his head. He pushes to his feet, and both his friends look round.
“Where are you going?” Az asks.
“To speak with Vegha.” Rhys tells him. “And don’t follow me. You two idiots will only make things worse.”
He has no idea how right he is.
✧: *✧・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚
It starts with the fire going out. Always.
The door swings open hard enough to hit the wall, and freezing air envelops the place. Your father tracks snow into the house, and he smells so strongly of booze that it permeates the room and spreads like a sickness.
You are five years old. You like to draw things in the soot that coats the fireplace. You don’t like green apples, but red ones aren’t so bad. The house always feels untidy since mama stole away in the dead of night a year ago. You try to keep on top of the cleaning, but the damp and the cold makes your hands sore, your bones ache.
Every night, you sit with your hands in your lap and wait for your father to return home. If he’s coming back from the forge, he’s tired and in a bad mood. If he’s coming back from the mead hall or a tavern, he’s drunk and in a really bad mood.
Tonight is the latter. But not only is he drunk and in a bad mood — he’s also brought company.
Four other males. They’re all huge — too huge to fit into the house, you think. If they’ve come for food, there isn’t any. If they’ve come for comfort, there isn’t any of that, either.
But they’re looking at you, all four of them. And in some way, you know that it’s you they’ve come for.
“This is the one?” A male with reddish-brown hair asks.
“I have only one.” Your father answers, and he jerks a chin in your direction. “That is it.”
It.
“Scrawny. There’s barely anything of her.” A second male comments. “This won’t be difficult.”
“I always think that,” reddish-brown answers, “and then they start fighting back. Kicking and scratching.”
You may only be five, but you are not foolish. Something is very, very wrong. A sinister wave has swept your already-miserable home, and you are about to be swallowed up in it. You eye the four males with wide eyes and scoot back a little.
Reddish-brown is the leader. He folds his arms with an authoritative air and announces, “Pathorn and Yevmael can hold her down,” he turns to the second male, “you take one wing, and I’ll take the other.”
The male that steps towards you from the back has eyes as black as the soot in the hearth. His lips twitch up on one side, and he says, “Come here, then, little pup.”
You do not move.
“Come.” He repeats. “It won’t hurt…much.”
They laugh at that.
You tuck your dirty, bruised knees tightly into your chest and rest your chin atop of them. You say nothing, make no move.
“Oh for fuck’s sake.” His friend at the back says, stalking over to you. “Just pick her up.”
He does exactly that — by the scruff of your neck. You yelp as he yanks you into the air, and on instinct, your arms are flailing, legs kicking, tiny wings flaring.
“Look at that.” Charcoal eyes sneers at those very wings. “It’s a fucking abomination.”
If this is a game, you don’t like it. You twist in the male’s grasp, try to wriggle free, and he growls a curse at you. You growl back — a fierce, fierce noise, you think. It makes the males laugh again.
“On the table.” Reddish-brown says. “Face-down.”
“Papa,” you fight, “papa, papa, papa.”
There comes no response. It’s then that you realise he’s removed himself from the room. Left you with these monsters.
“Quiet now, pup.” Charcoal eyes says. “This won’t take long.”
You want to scratch him, and you try, even though your nails are chewed and bitten, despite mama always telling you not to do that. But mama isn’t here now and neither is papa. It’s just strangers with angry faces. Strangers who want to hurt you.
You’re slammed down onto the table, and you let out a cry. Someone holds your legs down. Another person holds your arms.
You are five years old. You like to draw pictures in the soot that covers the fireplace. You don’t like green apples, but red ones aren’t so bad. You are utterly and totally alone.
“I hope you never thought about flying.” Reddish-brown steps up to you. “That day will never come.”
And then they begin hacking at your wings.
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Your father takes you to a healer only when it’s almost too late. A fever scorches you head to toe. You think that mama returns to sit by your bedside, but that isn’t real. It’s a dream.
You’re too weak. You sleep fitfully on your front, because trembles wrack your body that continuously wake you up. You jerk every time the pain at your back gets too much.
The door opens, and you wonder if mama is returning again. You like that dream. But it’s your father, accompanied by the male who has been leaning over your weakened body for days.
“Will she live?” Your father asks.
“She will.” The healer tells him. “If she can fight off the infection.”
“Can’t you just give her a tonic, or something?”
“This is the worst wing clipping I have ever seen. There are ample healers in Illyria who are qualified to carry out the practice. What possessed you to instead leave her in the hands of a group of soldiers?”
“I will do with my child as I see fit.”
“You may no longer have a child, if she cannot fight this. Her life hangs in the balance.”
Your father makes a noise that sounds like a growl. He does that when you’re in his way, and he just wants to sit quietly without you lingering around him. “Give her a fucking tonic—”
“If she survives this,” the healer tells him, “she will be scarred and in pain for the rest of her life. You did not merely clip her wings. You butchered them. This is precisely why a healer should be the one to perform the procedure—”
Your body jerks with a fresh wave of pain, and you whimper. Both your father and the healer look over at you.
Your father’s lip curls, and he turns to the male once more. “Fix her.” He commands. “Because if you can’t, you’re helping me bury the body.”
No. The males will come back and put their hands on you again. They’ll bury a body. They’ll bury your body. They’re going to bury you. Soil will fall on your ruined wings, and when mama truly does come back, she’ll have only an unmarked grave to greet you at.
You try to move, but you’re strapped down. You whimper again.
Bury the body.
Bury the body.
Bury the—
Your body lurches up.
Sweat slicks your skin. You press a hand to your forehead, but it’s cool, not burdened by fever. You’ve awoken like this every morning for the past week.
The dreams are burdening you a lot right now. The memories.
They remind you, at least, why you will not return to your father’s home. Even if you end up hunching yourself up in doorways and exhausting any other dire options.
You hear a noise from the doorway, and you rub the bleariness from your eyes. Illuminated by the dim light in the hall, a male leans against the doorframe. He watches you nonchalantly, biting into an apple. Green, not red.
“You were shouting in your sleep again.”
You heave a deep, slow sigh and rake your fingers through your hair. Sweat soaks the strands.
“You dream often about burying bodies, don’t you?” The male steps into the room. He flares his wings, and you try not to look at them. “You’re quite odd. I think I like it.”
“Get out, Markis.” You sigh again. “Stop watching me sleep. It’s strange.”
“Is it more or less strange than chanting about burying a body?” He smirks. “And you’re in my house, remember? You can’t tell me to get out.”
“Yeah, well, it’s my house, too, and I can.” Suddenly, Vegha is appearing. She swats her younger brother, and a slither of relief settles into you. “Stop bugging her, Markis. Go to the training rings, or something.”
Markis so clearly doesn’t want to leave. He eyes you, his gaze falling from your neck, down to the old, threadbare sweater that you’ve been sleeping in. It’s Azriel’s — still smells like him.
The intensity of the male’s gaze is uncomfortable. And after a week of tolerating it, you’re not sure you can any longer.
“Fine.” He swallows down a bite of apple. He sends you a leering smirk. “I’ll tell your friends you said hello.”
Vegha rolls her eyes. “Markis, just leave before I boil your entire head—
“I’m going, I’m going.”
The male strides out of the room, shooting you one last look over his shoulder. You should ignore it, because the idiot is just basking in the novelty of having a female under his roof that he’s not related to, but the discomfort has sunk itself under your skin, and you’re not sure you can live with it.
Which is a bit of a problem, considering there are no other avenues for you to explore, and have nowhere else to go.
Vegha shuts the door behind her brother and turns to you. “You slept fitfully again.”
“Yes.” You feel a little bad admitting it. It’s not her, nor her family home, nor the bed that’s the problem. It’s you. All you. “I have a lot on my mind.”
“Of course, you do. I wish there was more I could do to help.”
“You’ve done more than enough, Vegha.”
She doesn’t look convinced. The worried streak in her eyes is an indicator of how terrible you look. And you know she’s just caring for you as your friend, but you can’t stand it. One more pitying glance may push you over the edge.
“I have to get to the crèche.” She tells you. “Can I get you anything before I leave?”
“No—thank you.” You sit up. “Listen…I won’t be here when you return home. I’m getting out of your hair today.”
She pauses. Studies you. “You’re not in my hair. You’re welcome to stay for as long as you need. Ignore Markis — he’s a cock.”
You breathe a soft laugh. But you can’t ignore Markis — not any longer. Just as you haven’t been able to ignore any of the males who have made the past week even more difficult than it already was.
Illyrian males are…are a sickness. They’re bred in violence and depravity. So few of them are good.
And if the past week without Azriel, Rhys and Cassian has taught you anything, it’s that to some degree, your exposure to such behaviours has always been muted, thanks to their protection. They’ve been a strong unit around you since you were eleven years old. Most males have been wise enough to steer clear and escape the wrath that would come down on them for messing with you.
But now you’re forbidden from seeing them, and you’re free game for any fucking male in this gods-forsaken place.
You need to be away from them. To be on your own.
“I know.” You answer Vegha. “And I appreciate you opening your home to me, I really do. But it’s fine — I’ve made other arrangements.”
The look she gives you is dubious. She doesn’t believe you, and rightfully so — it’s total bullshit. “You have?”
“I have.” You dip your chin. “I’ll be just fine.”
“…well I’m glad to hear it. You’ll come right back here if those plans fall through, right?”
“Of course I will.” No.
She hesitates at the door. She’s been nothing but kind and accommodating to you — a real friend.
But it’s bad enough not being able to escape the males that haunt your dreams. There’s a damn good reason for you staunchly refusing to return to your father. You will not swap one monster for another.
“I’ll see you soon, then.” Vegha studies you. There’s a sadness in her brown eyes. She genuinely cares. “Take care, Y/N.”
“I will.” You force a breezing smile. “And you, also.”
She inclines her head, and then she’s slipping out of the room. The silence only gives way for your too-near dreams to dig their claws in. You scrub your hands harshly over your face and push to your feet.
You don’t know where you’ll go. It’s tempting to ignore Lord Devlon’s warning and race back to the cottage. Drama may await you there — a total mess that you somewhat made for yourself — but at least you’d be warm and safe while facing it.
You can’t — you know you can’t. You don’t want Az or Cass or Rhys to face any consequences.
So after you get yourself ready and gather what little stuff you have, you head out into the snow and hope you won’t be sleeping in it that night.
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Azriel strikes at the sparring dummy as if it fucked his wife and stole his seat at the dinner table.
The damn things are supposed to be bolted to the ground, but a couple of bolts are no match against the fearsome shadowsinger.
He strikes and strikes until the object is more or less obliterated, because fuck the sparring dummy, that’s why. Fuck the sparring dummy, and fuck Lord Devlon, and fuck—
“I think you made your point.” A trilling voice cuts through his red mist of rage. “How about you set the sword down and have some water?”
Perhaps it’s just Azriel’s anger thinking for him, but he doesn’t feel that Kaeda has been particularly helpful from where she’s perched atop a smooth rock. She cleans her nails with the tip of a dagger and stretches her wings out around her.
Across the ring, Cassian watches and turns to Rhysand. “Why is she allowed to be here, but Y/N isn’t?”
Rhys shrugs his tense shoulders. He doesn’t know the answer.
The two of them step closer to where their brother is trying to breathe through his fury. He’s not coping so well.
See, Azriel has experience with missing things. He misses his mother all the time. Sometimes it’s a dull ache, manageable amongst the mundane comings and goings of life. Other times, it hurts so bad that he doesn’t think clawing his chest open would be too extreme a reaction. Missing a person is a sensation that knits itself under his skin and seeps into the marrow of his bones. It’s relentless and hideous.
Missing Y/N is a new kind of torture he never contemplated having to face.
It’s not just that he’s worried about where she is, whether or not she’s safe and well. It’s that he misses the silliest, tiniest things about her that he didn’t even know he’d ever noticed in the first damn place. The rapt determination with which she cuts the crusts off her bread because that’s a little too much bread for her. The way she gestures wildly with her hands whilst passionately talking about things. That ruined, tattered journal she carries around in which she scrawls blunt, one-sentenced, sometimes unintelligible thoughts. And her scent — gods, her scent.
It has been one week — an amount of time he’s spent away from her before. But it’s different this time. This isn’t like being away on a training exercise and knowing he’ll soon be coming home. He knows nothing. Doesn’t even know what to think, what to feel.
Other than an overt urge to murder the camp lord. Violently.
“How about we get done here and head to the mead hall?” Kaeda breaks through his warring thoughts. “I’m starved.”
Az grabs a nearby rag, wiping the sweat from his face. “Not really hungry.”
There’s a pause. And then a soft sigh leaves the female. She sheathes her blade and pushes to her feet, just as Rhys and Cassian are approaching. “I mean this in the nicest way possible, Azriel, but you can’t be visiting my father with this attitude.”
At once, this grabs the other two males’ interests, and Azriel wants to groan. Right. He’d forgotten about that.
“What’s this?” Rhys frowns, staring between Az and Kaeda. “You’re returning to Fenlaros?”
“My father invited Azriel to dine with us, that’s all.” Kaeda answers for him.
It had genuinely slipped Azriel’s mind. Amongst everything else waging war in his thoughts, a dinner with Kaeda’s family in Fenlaros had sunk right to the bottom.
But he knows immediately how it looks. That he’s being secretive.
Rhys studies Azriel closely. “And you’ve cleared this with Devlon?”
No, no he hadn’t. Quite simply, he’s not sure he can be within twenty feet of the bastard, right now, without throttling him.
He hates himself for it — he really, truly does. But for the sake of sparing himself a lecture, he shrugs. “I have.”
He does not lie to his brothers. And they can smell that lie on him right away.
Cassian stares at Kaeda for a long moment, before turning towards Az. “That is a fucking terrible idea, and you know it.”
“It’s dinner.” Kaeda shoots back.
Cass grits his teeth. “I’m talking to Azriel.”
“Listen, Cassian—”
“Excuse me—I’m sorry to interrupt.”
All four of them turn in the direction of the intrusion —and they stop short.
All three of the males know Vegha, of course. Rhys was grateful that she’d so willingly opened her home to Y/N when he’d asked. But other than that, they’ve only spoken to her in passing — she’s never had reason to seek them out before.
But what adds a slither of urgency to her rare appearance at the training rings is the even rarer appearance of the two little girls who hold her hands. They’re not supposed to be here, and Vegha knows this well.
She obviously deemed whatever this is urgent enough to bypass that rule.
“Vegha.” Azriel steps forward, studying her closely. “Is all well?”
Vegha shifts on her feet, clutching tighter onto the girls’ hands. She’s never comfortable here, around all these males, but it’s a different unwanted attention that makes her want to turn and leave.
Kaeda eyes her head to toe with a look of distaste. Of mistrust. She folds her arms and flares her wings — a gesture that has the little girls gasping.
“Settle down.” Vegha squeezes their hands. She directs her attention back to the males. Strange, that she feels more comfortable with them than she does with the only other female present. “Honestly, Azriel, I’m not at all sure.”
Rhys steps forward. “Is it Y/N?”
Cassian swears — swears — that a small sigh comes from behind him. From Kaeda.
“I know you’ve been instructed to stay away, and I don’t wish to cause you any trouble.” Vegha tells them. “It’s just…well, she was staying at my home this past week, as you asked, Rhysand. I told her she was welcome for as long as she needs — that she mustn’t return to her father’s house. But just this morning, she suddenly announced that she was leaving…that she’d found somewhere else to stay.”
“And?” The word slips from Kaeda’s lips.
Yeah, Cass definitely isn’t in the mood for this today.
“And…and I’m not sure I believe her.” Vegha shrugs slowly. “My brother wasn’t exactly making it a pleasant stay, and I think she was desperate to get out of there. But I can’t imagine where she’d go. I just…thought I should tell you. You know her better than I do.”
True — except her three closest friends can’t imagine where she’d go, either, if not back to her father’s house. And they can’t imagine her resorting to that.
She has no money for a room at an inn. She doesn’t have a long list of friends who will open their homes up to her. And she most certainly can’t go back to Rhys’s mother’s cottage.
So…where? Will she pitch up in one of the abandoned tents across the camp? Will she spend her nights shivering in doorways and wondering where her next meal is coming from?
This is fucking ridiculous.
She can’t be left to live like this.
“You did the right thing, telling us.” Rhys reassures Vegha. He offers a gentle, soft smile to the girls at her sides. “How about you take these two back into the warm? We’ll deal with it.”
Gods, he’s already a High Lord through and through. Calm in the face of turmoil. Not letting on to his inner panic.
Vegha dips her chin. “Sorry, again, for interrupting.” She tugs gently at the children’s’ hands. “Come, girls.”
Rhysand’s brow furrows. Vegha is perhaps the only other good friend Y/N has in this place. There’s no way she’s made other arrangements — Rhys knows it. Cassian knows it. Azriel knows it.
“We’ve got to do something.” Azriel voices what they’re all thinking, a feral panic colouring his tone. “We can’t just leave her to face this on her own. Fuck what Devlon says. I’m not sitting back and letting her freeze or starve to death.”
Rhys chews his lip. “…I can try to speak with my father. But I’m not hopeful where he’s concerned. This falls under Devlon’s jurisdiction.”
“All Y/N needs is a roof over her head and some food in her belly until we can work out what to do next.” Cassian crosses his arms over his chest. “There’s got to be some way we can help. Is there not any clue of where she might go?”
The two males are looking at Az expectantly. If anyone knows, it’s him.
But he’s just…he’s not had his eye on the ball recently. His thoughts are all over the place. Perhaps he’s neglected his friendships a little — because he could swear he knows Y/N inside and out, and yet his mind is blank. Utterly fucking blank.
“I—I need to think.” He runs a hand through his hair, turning — he stops at the flash of red hair that meets him. He’d forgotten Kaeda was even there.
She stares between them, saying nothing, her face pinched and arms crossed. What she’s thinking, Az isn’t sure. But a thought suddenly strikes him.
“Kaeda.” He faces her properly. “Can’t you house Y/N in Fenlaros for the time being? Until this is sorted?”
Kaeda stops short. Blinks at him. “…What?”
“It doesn’t have to be your home, or…or even anything extravagant. Just somewhere she can sleep. There are surely more options in Fenlaros than there are here.”
Kaeda does not like this one bit. A negative reaction is rippling off her in waves, and it hits Cassian like a blast of cold air. Rhys, too.
But Az seems oblivious.
“Azriel…” The female keeps her voice calm, measured. “You know it isn’t that easy. A person can’t just…defect to another camp.”
“She wouldn’t—”
“So what’s your excuse?” The words are falling from Cassian’s lips before he can stop himself. He’s not sure he cares.
Kaeda pauses. Her face is a sheet of wide-eyed innocence as she turns to him. “Pardon me?”
Cass shrugs one shoulder. “You’ve been buzzing around here for months like a fly. What’s your excuse, if that’s not allowed? Because your father may be Lord of Fenlaros, sweetheart, and he may let you do whatever you want, but look around you. This is Windhaven. His word doesn’t mean shit here.”
Azriel takes a step towards him. “Cassian—”
“Either help our friend, or stay the fuck out of it—”
“Cassian, that is enough—”
“It’s fine, Azriel.” Kaeda’s voice is so deceptively warm, you could melt butter on it. She steps towards Cassian, face open, hands held up in a placating manner. “It’s fine. You’re right. I understand you’re upset, and I…I apologise if my presence here has been burdensome. Of course I’ll help any way that I can. I’ll talk to my father right away.”
Cass doesn’t feel particularly satisfied by that. Doesn’t believe a fucking word, to be honest. His eyes communicate that as he stares the female up and down.
“Cass, I think you should apologise.” Azriel says.
He barks a laugh. “No chance.”
“Kaeda just said she’d help—”
“Enough.” Rhys finally jumps in. His tone is laced with authority — just a smidgen of an idea of what he might one day be like as High Lord. He crosses his arms and glares the three of them down as though they’re bickering younglings. “Arguing back and forth will do nothing to help Y/N. We need to act. I will speak to my father. Kaeda will speak to hers. Az, you should see if you can find out where Y/N might have gone. Cass, I want you making sure she doesn’t go anywhere near her fucking father’s house. By the end of the day, we should have at least sorted something. Understood?”
Cass doesn’t look away from Kaeda. He can see her eye twitching — the way she so desperately wants to push back against being ordered. Gods, how Az can’t see right through her, he has no clue—
“Understood.” Azriel answers without hesitation. “I’ll get right on it.”
Rhys inclines his head. “As will I.”
“And I’ll head back to Fenlaros.” Kaeda adds.
Cassian merely shrugs. “Fine.”
Without goodbyes, Azriel is shooting into the skies — probably hoping to get an aerial view of a sodden, freezing Y/N traipsing through the snow.
Rhys looks between Cassian and Kaeda for a beat longer before he disappears, winnowing — Cass assumes — straight to Velaris.
And then there were two.
Kaeda turns back to Cass. The doe-eyed look on her face is instantly gone. There’s a hint of a damn smirk.
“Whatever game you’re playing at,” Cassian clenches his jaw. “You will not win.”
A soft hiccup of a laugh escapes the redhead. “Oh, yes I will.” She steps closer. Close enough for her cotton-and-powder scent to envelop the male. “See, I always get what I want. Always.”
“Not this time. Azriel may not see you for the viper that you are, but I do.” He grits his teeth. “And I will fucking destroy you before you cause any damage.”
Green eyes glitter back at him. The female is unperturbed by the threat — and she knows he means it. There’s even a change in her scent that makes Cassian’s nostrils flare. A darker one. A muskier one.
“Oh, Cassian, I do hope so.” She says, and pushes up so her lips are at his ear. Her full breasts brush his chest. “I love a male who’s willing to punish me.”
She winnows away before the snarl has a chance to claw up Cassian’s throat.
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This is starting to feel like a bad idea.
It was easy, from the warmth and comfort of Vegha’s home, to convince yourself you’d be fine out amongst the wilds of the camp. But the old armoury is dark, dingy and cold, and within hours, you’re not sure you have the resolve for a single night there. Let alone however many you have ahead of you.
This used to be a place of mischief, when you and your friends were children. This far end of the camp has sat abandoned and unused for years, after newer, more effective training rings were installed where the hub of activity now lays. The four of you would spend days here, playing pretend with the old, wooden practice swords that were left behind. You’d make up stories of the area being haunted by the ghost of an ancient, disgruntled Camp Lord. And as you got older, it became a place to come and get drunk, to speak words and secrets that remained there, never to be carried away with you.
You won’t be bothered here, you know — nobody ventures this way. But that, and the fact that the old armoury affords you a roof over your head, are about the only positives. You’re so cold that it hurts. You’re hungry and miserable and tired in a way that has nothing to do with nightmare-filled sleeps.
And gods, you miss your friends. You miss them so much, it‘s a gnawing ache. All those nights you took for granted, tucked up warm in the cottage, Cassian making you all laugh with his antics. Those times seem so distant, now. Is this how it will be, from now on? Never did you think you’d be separated from your friends. And you don’t even know if this is a permanent thing. Will you have to wait and wait until Rhysand is High Lord and able to make decisions, before you can see them again?
These thoughts will do you no good. They’ll only make you colder and drive you to shed tears that you’re not sure you have the energy to shed.
You bundle in your blanket, squeezing your eyes shut as though that fruitless act will shield you from the cold. You were tempted to build a fire, but the last thing you want is to draw attention from anyone flying above. Being found in here will just bring you more trouble you don’t need.
You’re already hunched as it is, gloved hands buried under your armpits — but you somehow manage to tense even more when you hear the distinct sound of boots traipsing through the snow outside.
No.
You can’t do this — not right now. Nobody fucking comes here. Is the Mother laughing at you from above and sprinkling more misfortune into your already-dire existence? You can’t handle a confrontation, can’t handle being told you can’t stay here—
But the door creaks open, and it’s Azriel’s face that peers around cautiously. You almost sob with relief.
“Thank fuck.” He breathes. He’s slipping inside, shutting the door behind him. In a few great strides, he’s in front of you and dropping to his knees. “Are you alright?”
If you speak, you might crack. You risk it all the same. “How did you find me?”
“Took me a while to think of this place, I must admit. It’s been a long while since we were last here.”
But find you, he did. And fuck, his scent and natural warmth are swarming you. It feels like nothing else matters right then. Just you and him, like it’s always been. He yanks you into a hug, and you don’t stop him.
“You’re frozen.” He whispers, squeezing you. His gloved hands rub at your arms, your back, your shoulders. He pulls away to cup your face, and he studies every inch of it. You’re not sure what for.
But you stare back. You don’t know what to do or say. That could be the cold making it difficult to think, or it could be this weird wedge between you that feels like it’s only growing.
Az leans closer, and he presses his forehead against yours. “I miss you.” His gloves brush over your cheeks. “Gods, I miss you. So much.”
“I miss you, too.” You shudder. The words are weighty and truthful, not just referring to this past week apart, but to whatever has been going on for a while, now. You didn’t mean for it to be like this. You just want to go back to how it was.
“I’ve thought about nothing else—” His nose bumps against yours, and one of his hands slides to the nape of your neck, kneading the skin there. “I just—just need you close to me, Y/N. Always.”
You attempt a breathy laugh. “I don’t think Devlon would agree with that.”
“Fuck, Devlon. We’re going to get around this. Rhys is going to talk to his father, and even if that fails, Kaeda is talking to hers. I reckon they’ll be able to offer you sanctuary in Fenlaros until this is sorted—”
You pull back to blink at him. Study him. “What?”
“I asked Kaeda to speak with her father on your behalf. To see if they can find somewhere for you to stay. I’m sure they can—”
“Azriel, I’m not going to Fenlaros.”
He pauses. “…If they’ll have you, Y/N, yes you are. It means you’ll be safe and warm and fed—”
“No.”
“What? Why?”
“Besides the fact that I’m already in enough trouble thanks to that place?” You pull away from him, easing to your feet. “I don’t know anyone there. And if Devlon were to find out—”
“Stop worrying about Devlon and start worrying about your safety.” Azriel, too, stands. “It’s the most logical thing.”
“No, it isn’t.”
“Y/N.”
“I’m not going further away from you than I already am, and I’m especially not going to start playing house with your lover, Azriel, it’s odd—”
“That’s what this is about?” He cocks an eyebrow. Folds his arms. “Because you don’t want to accept help from Kaeda?”
You shrug. And just…just to give your body something to do, you begin pacing. “I’m not sure it would be very helpful at all.”
“You’re being ridiculous.”
“No, I’m not.”
“You just don’t like her, do you?” He snaps. The sound is harsh, and it makes you grit your teeth. “You’re not willing to accept help that you so clearly fucking need, because you don’t like Kaeda.”
“I don’t trust Kaeda.” You whirl around to face him. “Not one fucking bit, and you shouldn’t, either.”
“Why?”
“Because none of it makes sense! Why is she here in Windhaven, Azriel? What is it she actually wants?”
It’s dangerous — the way your voices are rising in volume and echoing around the armoury. But it’s as though weeks of emotional buildup are floating to the surface, and you can’t stop them, and they’re stoking an anger that actually warms you and feels better than being cold and hungry.
Azriel shakes his head. “You’re fucking impossible sometimes, you know that? You don’t want to help yourself. It’s like you’re determined to make your life as difficult as possible, and when you’re offered help, you don’t take it. You’re impossible!”
“Yeah, Azriel, maybe I am.” You snap back. “But at least I’m not lying through my teeth like Kaeda is, and at least I don’t break my damn promises.”
Azriel stops short. Stares at you.
You and he both know you’re referring to Solstice Night. You should have confronted it before, but…but you buried it.
You’re not sure you can do that anymore.
Azriel purses his lips. And then has the nerve to state, “Things are different between you and I these days.”
“Yes.” You stare back at him. “They are.”
Your eyes are trying to communicate so much. Things are different, and it might be the boundaries you crossed, but you’re more certain than anything that it’s Kaeda’s influence. You just don’t understand why Azriel can’t see it.
You wonder what he might say yet. So much anger and pent-up frustration zips between you. Mixed with longing and missing each other. Loving each other. Wanting to scream at each other, and for each other.
And part of you wants him to spit vicious words and fight back, just for you to feel something — even though you know that’s not Azriel’s style. But you stare and stare, and neither of you speak, and then Az is shaking his head and clenching his jaw.
“I’m not arguing with you here.” He says. “It’ll only draw attention to us.”
You fold your arms. “Fine.”
“I’m going to speak to Rhys, find out what his father said. And I’ll speak to Kaeda—”
“Go right ahead. I’m still not stepping foot back in Fenlaros—”
“And I’ll bring you some blankets and food. Or Cassian will. Or…whatever.” He stops still for a second, swallowing. “But we need to fix this shit between us.”
You know that. But you’re so fucking stubborn, your own worst enemy. And right then, you want to scream. Cry. Hurt him how he hurt you.
So you say nothing. You just shrug again.
He stares, as if waiting for a better reaction. And then he shakes his head once more and turns, striding back to the door. You wonder if it’s a bad thing to let him go, like this. When will you see him again? How will things be when you see him again? You’re making it worse for yourself, for him, for both of you.
You open your mouth — to say what, you’re not sure. But you’re stopped by Az pausing with his hand on the doorknob. With his back to you, his shoulders tense. He’s frozen in place.
And then he speaks — growls — two words. “Fuck this.”
He turns, marching back over to you so fast, you don’t have time to react.
And then he’s grabbing your face, and his mouth is on yours.
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azriel tags: @dream-alittlebiggerdarling @sirenpearldust @queercodedcharacter @azriels-shadowsinger @ruler-of-hades @demi03 @magicaldragonlady @abrielletargaryen @ralsieq @v3lv3tf0x @achase2002 @feyretopia @hayrunnwr @don’t-feed-the-hipsters @brekkershadowsinger @piceous21 @bloodicka @acourtofinkandpapyrus @riri-is-agirlie @siriusement @4valyries @socmono @azriels-mate123 @acourtofbatboydreams @katherinearcheron @nesemi @lupinswolfsbanes @dreaming-unafraid @dxnniiix @cyrygher @liddyr03 @lmllsl @nightless @teenageeggscissorslawyer @brighterthanlonelythoughts @blitz-fall @maybefoxysouls @mschanand1erbong @juiceboxreads @bangtanbecks @florencemtrash @hyemishii @obixix @thenovarose @meshellexplosionmurder @angzlxna @lissy31xoxo-blog @supernatural99 @positivewitch @art3-m1ss @milfhunter-pdx @bbuckysbeardd
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reiderwriter · 1 year
Text
You'd Be Like Heaven To Touch♣️
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Pairing: Spencer Reid X Female Reader
Word count: 2.2k
Summary: After a whirlwind weekend, you're finally ready to go home and deal with the mess you created in Vegas. But you just cannot get your new Husband out of your head.
Warnings: Oral sex (F receiving), fingering, vaginal sex, no mention of birth control, and you're going to hate me by the end of this sex scene bye
A/N: They're officially out of Vegas! I'm so excited to share the next few parts with you guys, and we finally got our first taste of smut!! Also, the Reid in the gif is the exact one I'm picturing in this scene so yeah 🤡 smirk and all 😏
Here's the series masterlist, and my general masterlist!~
Prev. Chapter // Next Chapter
The race back to the hotel was easy compared to the ensuing rush to pack up an entire hotel room's worth of mess in the time between their arrival and their check-out time. Sure, they’d had to pack light as travelling FBI agents, but with the added mess you’d created in Spencer’s room, and the additional luggage of their marriage licence, the packing was needlessly more frantic than usual. 
When you finally did make it down to the lobby, you froze up a little, realising that you were the final one to exit your room. You watched as seven pairs of eyes shifted to you as soon as the elevator door opened, hauling your go-bag further up your arm from where it was slipping down. You thanked your past self for having the foresight to put some makeup into the bag, having used up a copious amount of your concealer to cover up any evidence of your night with Reid. You still kept a small distance from the others, just in case.
“Sorry, were you all waiting for me?” you smiled at them as you got closer, hoping that they’d not ask questions at what had taken you so long. Your eyes caught Reid’s and you could see that he was looking down at your neck. 
After an entire day morning and night in your company, you knew he’d seen the results of his handiwork. You wondered if the look that raked over you now was that of the dominant Reid from the night before, who you presumed marked you in such prominent places so people would know you were his, or that of the concerned team mate, who didn’t want to be caught and questioned by the others. You tried to shake both images from your head, not sure which would please you more. 
“It’s okay, you’re not late, the cars are being bought around now and the jet leaves in 30,” Hotch greeted you when you finally got close enough. 
“Late night, mama?” Morgan laughed at you as soon as he turned to you. “How did all that drinking last night go for you?” 
You were so wrapped up in Reid and what he may or may not be thinking that you had to pull yourself back to reality for a second to realise that Morgan had been talking to you. 
“What? Oh yeah, I guess. I don’t think I drank too much, but I did sleep like a baby, so who knows.” You laughed a little to punctuate the point, and then watched Morgan’s reaction closely. You were still looking for the two “agents” who had been witness to your marriage, after all. 
“Ooh, you didn’t sample the local goods last night then? I’ve heard that Downtown Las Vegas is the best place to meet single men, and you were just complaining that you hadn’t been out in a while,” Penelope said from beside the man. 
“No, no, the place Reid took me to was more library than bar, and as far from Downtown as you could get, so it was a nice and easy night for me.” 
“And if the local men are anything like our resident Las Vegan,” Emily jumped in, looking at Reid. “Then I’m sure they’re not really what Y/N is looking for.” She laughed and they all start making their way out of the lobby. 
You try to avoid meeting Reid’s eyes after that last comment, sure that you wouldn’t be able to stop the grimace of apology from coming to your lips. But you couldn’t help yourself, and you forced your eyes up into a small peak at his face, only to see his downturned eyes and the small smirk that was crossing his lips. 
You hung back for a second, needing to clue this out, and nudged him with your elbow. 
“What’s that look for?” you whisper at him in a harsh tone, hoping that no one was watching the two of you. 
“It’s nothing.” He says, but the smile stays on his lips. You give him another look, silently communicating that you’re not taking that first answer and he nods a little as he walks beside you. 
“If they could see the marks on your neck, they wouldn’t be thinking that I’m not what you’re looking for, right?” You could feel the heat in your cheeks, and you playfully whacked him in the arm a bit, before pushing through the doors of the hotel and feeling the sun on your cheeks once again. 
You watched him climb into the car you took earlier and stop yourself from following him. You were going to need some time to think about how you should take that last comment, and a half an hour drive outside of his presence would probably do you good. Climbing up into the other SUV, you take a deep breath, feeling all the restlessness of the night before creep up on you.
–X–
You don’t know where you are, but you know that you’re burning up under his touch. His lips are on your skin, working their way down from your neck to the valley between your breasts and all you can hear is the sound of your own lustful moans as his hands trail further still. 
You don’t know who it is on top of you, but you know that you’re dying for him to be there, to push his tongue into your mouth and make you submit to his will. His fingers wrap around the waistband of your panties and roughly pull them down, opening you up to him. You feel his lips ghost down further still, until he’s there between your legs. 
“Is this where you wanted me, baby? So desperate to have me, my little slut.” His words send another shiver down your spine as you roll your hips up into his face again. 
He lets out a small chuckle and gives you what you want, finally lowering his tongue again and letting it meet your desperate cunt. He sets his attention on your clit, and your eyes roll back in bliss, not caring who it is between your legs giving you this much pleasure, just desperate for them to keep going. 
“Don’t stop, please, don’t stop,” you beg, fisting a handful of your mystery man’s hair. It’s soft to the touch, a little curly at the ends and it feels familiar, but you’re unable to think about it for more than a second before he’s pushing a finger into you. 
“That’s it baby. Look at you, so fucking tight around my finger. You want me to push my cock into you, you’re going to have to relax for me baby, okay?” You still don’t know who it is, but you nod for him, knowing you want nothing except everything he’s telling you that you want. 
He’s thrusting his fingers into you at a relentless pace now, adding one digit every few thrusts, until he’s up to three. His face is still buried in your pussy, tongue still flicking against your clit, his other hand pushing you down by the hips as he forces you closer and closer to the edge. 
His hand drops down to your thigh, pushing your legs further apart, and it stays there feeling overly warm, almost burning you up from just that simple touch. 
“You’re so wet for me baby, going to take my cock now?” You whimper and nod your head as fervently as you can, begging him with your eyes to push into you. He finally pulls his head up to your own, and you’re finally face-to-face with your mystery man. 
“So wet for me, right baby? So wet for your husband?” Spencer questions you as he pushes into your wet, dripping hole, and you’re so surprised that all you can do in response is moan. 
With each thrust, he drops a moan into your ears, and you feel your climax building quickly. 
“Ah fuck yes, Y/N,” you claw at his back, desperate to pull him closer. 
“Spencer, don’t stop, fuck.” Your name begins dropping from his lips like a prayer as his thrusts get sloppier, wetter, deeper. 
“Y/N… Y/N……… Y/N….” 
–X– 
“Y/N, are you finally awake? We’ve been calling your name for a minute now.” Your eyes snap open and you come face to face with Emily and JJ from the seats opposite you on the jet. 
“We thought you might be having a nightmare. Want to talk about it?” JJ asks, her voice in a hushed tone as a look of sympathy crosses over her face. 
Whatever that was, it certainly was not a nightmare. But the scenario you were in now certainly was. 
“What? Oh, yeah. I don’t know, maybe it was a nightmare.” You desperately hope you sound convincing enough for them to drop the subject. The last time you’d mentioned a lack of sleep, half of the team had approached you with different home remedies and tips for getting your full 8 hours. The last thing you needed right now was the constant reminder that you’d just had a sex dream about Spencer Reid on the jet whilst surrounded by all your close friends and colleagues. 
Including the man himself, you realised, as you stretched your neck out from its awkward sleep position, and caught the sight of him there next to you. Your car had reached the jet first earlier that day, and it had taken all of two minutes after boarding before you’d been claimed by sleep, so you hadn’t realised he’d positioned himself next to you. 
A quick glance down had told you he’d done more than that. Wrapped around your legs, and so big that it stretched over his too, was a large blanket, the one that he usually used on your longer trips home. He was asleep in the seat next to you, you noticed after an embarrassing amount of time, head resting in one of his hands, lips slightly open, looking the image of tranquillity. 
His other hand was beneath the blanket, somewhere you couldn’t see, but as you shifted slightly in your chair trying to get comfortable again, you realised it was definitely somewhere you could feel. His hand had somehow fallen into your lap, and he had a firm but sleepy grip on your left thigh, the one closest to him. Now that you had moved, so did his hand, rubbing gentle strokes into your skin every few minutes. Slow enough that you were sure he was still asleep, but still enough to have am effect.
His hand was hot against your leg, and his touch burned. You remembered the sensation from your dream and immediately did your best to temper your facial expressions, not wanting to gather any more concern from the two women opposite you at the table than you already had. 
“Y/N? If you want to talk about it, we’re always here you know? This job can be overwhelming at the best of times, and we just worked a hard case. No one would blame you for needing to take some time for yourself.” Emily looked at you in concern now, and it was taking all of your will to keep your eyes on her, and nod at the appropriate time, your brain short-circuiting now that you realised Reid was so close. 
Where did this sudden infatuation with him come from? You’d always appreciated that he was a good looking guy, but you’d never thought about him so thoroughly before, and certainly not enough to lose yourself on the jet to inappropriate thoughts. 
It was the insanity of the weekend, you told yourself, it had to be. You’d learnt more about him and accidentally, possibly, maybe slept together, and now your body was just getting it out of your system. Either that or you’d just learnt too much about his preferences and your brain was just trying to come to terms with each revelation. 
You settled back into comfortable conversation with Emily and JJ, trying your best to convince yourself that your dream had meant nothing, blocking out any noise in your head that was suggesting otherwise. 
Especially the little thought at the back of your brain that was reminding you that you hadn’t removed his hand from your thigh, and that you really didn’t want to. 
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avocad1s · 1 year
Text
Bring Back What Once Was Mine
Chapter Summary: You concoct a plan to confront the Imposter and the truth is revealed
Characters Mentioned: Multiple Characters Mentioned
Content Warning: Cult and Religious themes ahead! You've been warned.
Reader is the true creator of Teyvat. GN! Reader
Part Five Part Six (You are here!) Part Seven
We got some OOC harbingers but they’re basically obsessed with you so 🗿
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Present Day, Sumeru City
Slowly, the Imposter reached up with a trembling hand. They were displeased to find a bead of sweat swipe at their brow. Anxiety and paranoia overwhelmed them.
They couldn’t shake the feeling that what the Traveler had told them wasn’t the truth. If the Creator had died like Lumine said they did, Teyvat clearly would’ve been devastated.
They leaned back in their throne. A breathy sigh left them and they sank further into their seat. A dark aura filled the throne room.  Since they had descended to Teyvat they knew who they were supposed to be. A mere placeholder, and if they ever stood next to the real deal, they would never compare. All of their actions were dictated by another. The imposter looked to their limbs almost expecting to find strings attached.
“Your Grace…”
“Did you find them?”
They couldn’t shake this feeling of paranoia. It festered, and grew until their suspicions forbade them to do nothing but seek confirmation to ease their worries. They had sent a guard to fetch the body of the real Creator.
“No, I didn’t manage to find them…”
They curl their hand into a fist, “are you really that incompetent that you cannot follow basic instructions? It’s been days, what do you mean you cannot find them?”
The guard falls onto his knees lacing his hands together, “Your Grace, please let me explain… I don’t think the person you’re looking for is dead.”
The Imposter tilts their head to the side at a unnatural angle, “what do you mean, explain yourself.”
The guard lets out a shaky breath staring up at them, “while I was searching I overheard someone in one of the villages talking about how some mysterious person with odd clothing gave them a flower that healed their little sibling. Could that be the person you’re looking for?”
The Imposter pinches the bridge of their nose, “how long have you known this?”
“I found this out yesterday morning, Your Grace.”
“And you’re just now telling me this?” They jump up from the throne as their voice raises, “they could be anywhere in Teyvat by now!”
“Please forgive me! I wanted to be absolutely sure before reporting back to y-“
“Quiet!” They shout, “I knew I should’ve put the General Mahamatra on this! Bring Lumine here this instant!”
The guard quickly scatters out of the room leaving the Imposter alone once again, they slump back into their seat. That feeling they’ve had these past few days was right, the real Creator has been running around Teyvat all this time. Though they were unsure of their motives, why didn’t the Creator immediately come and get rid of them? Surely they had to be aware that someone was pretending to be them.
They shook their head, right now they must deal with the Traveler. She had been a traitor from the start, and they had no reason to care for Outlanders. Getting rid of her and her fairy creature was the next course of action.
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Present Day, an unknown location in Sumeru
“Paimon.” Lumine calls out. “Your practically pacing, could you calm down?”
Paimon stops staring at her friend, “calm down?” She scoffs, “you just told Paimon that the imposter was created by Celestia and that Nahida is going to try and break us out. How is Paimon supposed to calm down?”
Lumine brings her finger to her lips, “don’t talk so loud, if the guards outside hear you we’ll never get out and help the Creator.”
Paimon floats down where Lumine had made herself comfortable on the ground, “this is just getting more complicated. Paimon can’t wrap her head around it.”
Lumine agreed with her companion, this situation was getting more complex as more information is revealed. Was Celestia the enemy? If it was capable of turning against its own creator, what else is it capable of? Was Celestia the one who created the Unknown God?
“Who would’ve thought that the Almighty Traveler could look so defeated.”
Lumine picks her head up looking towards the source of the voice.
“The Wanderer?” Paimon says shocked, “what are you doing here?”
He rolls his eyes, “isn’t it obvious?” The Wanderer pulls the cell door open.
Lumine and Paimon share glances then both head towards the exit of the cell. “Why are you helping us?” Lumine asks once she was standing next to the puppet.
He looks away from the two girls, “Nahida came to me asking about the Fatui’s motives with the Creator.”
That’s right, The Wanderer was one of the Fatui Harbingers before he erased himself from history via Irminsul. If anyone would know the plans Snezhnaya had for Their Grace, it would be him.
“The Fatui had plans of summoning the true Creator to Teyvat once they had collected all of the Gnosis, but if the Creator is already here without the Fatui summoning them. They’re most likely looking for their whereabouts, if they haven’t found them already.”
“And if they do find them?” Lumine questions, “what then?”
The Wanderer smirks, “what’s with that look? You almost look worried for the Creator. Don’t tell me that you actually care about them?”
Paimon stomps in the air angrily, “of course we’re worried! They’re our friend and the Fatui can’t be trusted!”
He laughs at her outburst. “If the Fatui manages to find them then-“
He stops abruptly raising his hand so the two girls behind him stop walking.
“What is it?” Lumine whispers.
“Someone is coming.”
The Wanderer pulls the girl behind a large crate Paimon following close behind. Once out of view, a few gaurds came marching down the hallway to the cell where Lumine once resided.
“Huh? The Traveler is gone!”
“How is that possible?” One calls out.
“We must find her as soon as possible! We cannot return to Their Grace empty handed!”
Hurried and erratic footsteps come back down the hall as the guards quickly leave the dungeon spreading out to find the golden haired outlander.
“Looks like your lie didn’t hold up that well, we need to be more cautious.”
Once the coast was clear, they leave from behind the crate walking towards the exit of the dungeon after confirming that there was no guards waiting for them anywhere. The Wanderer pushes open the heavy door revealing they were right outside of the city. Lumine squints her eyes bringing her hand up to block the sun from her face.
“We’re going this way.” The Wanderer calls out.
“Aren’t we going to Nahida? She’s in Sumeru City”
“Nahida is waiting in Port Ormos,” he replies, “she’s planning on leaving Sumeru to find the Creator and she wants you to go with her.” Lumine speeds up her walking so that she was in step with the Wanderer. He glances at her for a moment, “what?”
“You never answered my question.” She retorts.
“What question?”
“Why are you helping us,” she repeats, “you said Nahida came to you for information but that doesn’t explain why you got us out of here.”
“I have my own reasons for getting you out but what I want is to meet them,” he addresses the Creator by their true name paying no mind to the surprised look Paimon gave him. “I have some… questions I want to them to answer.”
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Snezhnaya
The Fatui wasted no time to make preparations to leave for Sumeru, and you were departing the nation of Cryo just as quickly as you arrived.
However you weren’t leaving alone.
The Tsaritsa had no intentions of letting you leave and confront the imposter by yourself. As soon as you told her that you needed to leave immediately, she and all of her Harbingers quickly prepared a ship for you all to sail to Sumeru.
Even though you told her multiple times there was no need for them to go and that you could handle it, she remained adamant so you just gave up and let them go with you.
Once you all had boarded the ship and sailed off, you wanted to use this opportunity to make a plan on how you were going to confront the False Creator once you had arrived to the nation of Dendro.
At least that’s what you wanted.
During your limited time in the Zapolyarny Palace, you didn’t get to meet all of the Harbingers. Then when they returned, you were already leaving. Although they were accompanying you on your trip, none of them dared to approach you. Maybe the Tsaritsa had told them you had taken the news about Celestia poorly. You weren’t sure but you were grateful you had this time to think.
“…Your Grace?”
Never mind…
You turn you head to the right and see Childe approaching you slowly, he had a small smile on his face. “Are you okay? You’ve been standing here for a while now.”
You give him a smile, “you don’t have to worry about me, I’m fine.”
His smiles widens, “well we still have a bit of time until we reach Sumeru, would you like to sit down? There’s a free spot near me.”
You were about to accept his offer but before anything could leave your mouth someone else speaks up.
“Stop assuming that Their Grace wants to sit next to you, Tartaglia.”
Childe’s eyes almost roll behind his skull as he turns to address the voice.
“Their Grace only knows me, I just want them to be comfortable Arlecchino.”
It was obvious by the tone of his voice that Childe had a distaste towards the girl who spoke up. Her black and white hair framed her face while she stares at her comrade with a cold look, you would assume she felt the same way toward him.
“It’s only because you are trying to hog all of their attention.” She snaps.
“Fighting in the Creators presence?” Pantalone tsked a closed eye smile on his face. “Such fools. Your Grace, you may sit next to me, I promise I’m not as aggravating as these two”
They both glare in his direction.
“You always come up with a excuse to stay in the Homeland, why did you feel the need to come with us now?” Arlecchino quips.
“The same reason why you came, Her Majesy and Their Grace are here.” Pantalone says in a soft voice as if he was talking down to the girl.
Although Arlecchino was trying to keep up her gracefulness facade in front of you, hearing his remark caused her eye to twitch, but before she could spit out another degrading comment she is interrupted by her senior.
“Stop with all the childish bickering.” Pierro orders and immediately all of the harbingers stop talking. Once it was quiet he turns his attention to you, “Divine One, Her Majesty would like to speak with you.”
You let out a sigh of relief, “okay, where is she? I can go to her.”
Pierro gestures for you to follow him to the front of the ship where you notice the Tsaritsa standing looking out at the ocean. Once she turns to greet you with a bow, Pierro leaves so it was just the two of you alone.
“Thank you for accepting my request, Your Grace.” She says softly, her hair blowing in the wind.
“I didn’t mind, they were all starting to argue so I was going to slip away at the first chance I got.”
She nods her smile fading a bit, “I apologize for their behavior.”
You shake your head approaching the woman, “no need, honestly it was refreshing to watch since I know what’s waiting for me in Sumeru.”
It falls silent for a moment, the only sound that can be heard is the crashing of waves against the ship.
“Your Grace,” the Tsaritsa begins again, “what is your plan once we reach Sumeru?”
“Actually that’s something I was planning to talk to you about.” You state, “since Snezhnaya citizens aren’t welcome pretty much anywhere, once we get to Port Ormos it’ll draw lots of attention to us. So I was thinking-“
“-thinking of what?” She asks.
“You should apologize to the Imposter.” You finish.
Her eyes widen, “what? Why?”
You rest a hand on her arm to calm her nerves, “not actually apologize but tell everyone that’s what you’re here to do, that’s the only way we will be able to roam Sumeru without the entire nation watching us and probably the only way we’ll be able to get face-to-face with them with no one else getting in the way.”
She looks away from you for a moment staring at the endless ocean, “alright I’ll do it, only for you.”
“Good.” You praise, “then here’s what else I was thinking…”
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Port Ormos
Traveling with the Wanderer to Nahida’s location was tense.
Anytime Lumine brought up the Creator the Wanderer talked about them so casually and he even used their real name. It didn’t seem like he disliked the Creator, but his feelings to them still seemed unclear to the outlander. Maybe it was because he got his Fatui memories back, Lumine remembers that during her time in Inazuma the Raiden Shogun was very devoted to Their Grace, so it would only make sense that the devotion would bleed into her creation as well.
“Nahida is waiting for us over there,” The Wanderer point to Wikala Funduq, where her and Dehya hid when they were perusing the Doctor last year.
The trio enters seeing Nahida standing off to the side, once she notices that they’ve entered, she smiles brightly approaching them.
“You’ve made it, I was worried you all wouldn’t get out of the City.” Nahida confesses bringing a hand up to her chest.
“Paimon was worried we wouldn’t make it, there was so much security on the way here.”
“That makes sense,” the Archon replies, “if the Imposter really found out you lied they must’ve put out a search to find you, while at the same time, keeping it under wraps so other nations don’t find out.”
“The Wanderer said you had a plan that you wanted my help with,” Lumine says.
“Yes that’s true. I want to leave Sumeru city and locate Their Grace.”
“Do you know where they went?” Paimon asks and Nahida shakes her head.
“No, but I have a guess where they could be. My first guess would’ve been Liyue but after talking to the Wanderer I believe they’re in Snezhnaya.”
“Do you believe they’re in danger?” Lumine queries.
The Wanderer scoffs rolling his eyes, “the only one in danger there would be the Harbingers themselves. Those idiots won’t be able to stop themselves from fighting once the Creator is near.”
The girls look over at the puppet, “what do you mean?” Paimon is the first to speak.
“Just like everyone else in Teyvat they worship the Creator but none of them get along so I would bet they’d kill each other to spend time with them.”
Paimon’s face goes pale, “oh that’s terrifying! Paimon expects nothing less from the Fatui”
“Are you going to come with us, we could use someone familiar with Snezhnaya after all.” Nahida says the Wanderer.
He shakes his head crossing his arms, “not happening, I have no interest in seeing my old co-workers…”
The girls say nothing but they all understand, they did see all of the horrible things the Doctor had done to him in the memories of Irminsul. Not that he’s innocent himself, but he’s trying to change and that’s all that matters.
“Hey erm,” Paimon suddenly calls out,” isn’t that the Creator right there? On that ship?” The fairy points to a ship that just anchored by the dock.
She was right, it was Their Grace on the ship but they were talking to a pale woman with white hair.
The Wanderer let’s out a sigh, “It’s the Fatui, the one with thd Creator is the Tsaritsa.”
“The Tsaritsa? The leader of the Fatui?”
He nods at Lumines exclamation.
“Well you don’t have to travel to Snezhnaya anymore but I’m not staying here.” The Wanderer glares at the ship, “I’m not sure I’ll be able to control myself if I see him.”
He leaves without another word and Nahida and the Traveler approach the ship.
“Comrade?” Childe questions once he steps off staring at Lumine, “what are you doing here?”
Lumine looks behind him to keep her gaze on the Creator, “we are here for Their Grace.”
“Huh? You already know about them?”
“Lumine? Buer?” You say once you leave the ship, “what are you doing here?”
Lumine’s faces practically beams once you acknowledge her presence, Nahida looked exactly the same.
“We were about to leave Sumeru to find you, there so much we have to say.” Nahida explains.
You raise your eyebrows, “you do? What is it?”
“The Imposter, they come from-“
“-Celestia” you interrupt, “I already know.”
Lumine tries not to roll her eyes at the smug looks from the Harbingers that stood behind you, would it be childish of her to brag how she was the first to find and help you?
“I’ve returned to Sumeru to finish the job.” You explain, “which reminds me, did they believe that I died?”
Lumine looks away ashamed, “for a while they did, but they just found out that I lied. They even kept me locked away after I told them.”
You frown at her explanation resting a hand on her shoulder, “I’m sorry that you went through that, it was negligent of me to ask for your help”
The Outlander shakes her head giving you a smile, now it was her time to boast, the Fatui gives her a dirty look at their close interaction.
A guard approaches the group shakily, “Snezhnayians nor the Fatui are welcome in Sumeru, please return to your ship and leave immediately.”
It was clear the he was intimidated, it wasn’t that long ago when one of the Harbingers was working with the Sages, he must be fully aware of their power.
“I am here to see… Their Grace…” The Tsaritsa states, “to apologize.”
The guard eyes widen as his fixes his posture, “you are?” He clears his throat, “well then, Their Grace is in Sumeru City. I’m not sure if they’ll see you. I’ve heard they are in a horrible mood today, maybe your apology will brighten their day.” The Cryo Archon nods curtly and the guard leaves the group to their own devices.
“Your Grace,” Lumine says once the guard was out of earshot, “you should come with us,”
“Hold on Comrade,” Childe interjected laughing dryly, “why would Their Grace come with you?”
“The Fatui’s reputation is down the drain in every nation, if they go with you it will only draw more attention. I can escort them to Sumeru city without anyone knowing.”
“Correct me if I’m wrong,” Dottore finally speaks up, “didn’t you just say that the Imposter didn’t believe your lie, and with all of the heightened security and how tense you are, I can only assume they’re looking for you.”
Lumine feels her face heat up, he was right but she didn’t want you traveling with them. No matter what the Wanderer said, she would never trust them. They’ve already hurt way too many of her friends.
The Doctor smiles arrogantly, “Based of your silence I’m guessing I’m right. Their Grace should travel with me. I have many projects that could easily get them to the City without being detected. Not only that, this is my homeland.”
They group begins bickering once more on who was going with you and who wasn’t, it was a childish argument. Especially to do it right in front of you who was getting increasingly annoyed as they continue to yell and degrade each other.
“Stop fighting!”
The group falls silent staring at you.
“I’ve already decided, I will go with the Tsaritsa. Dottore and Lumine will also go with me.”
Everyone else sighs besides Pierro and Nahida who seemed more interested in what the plan was.
“You two-“ you point at the Cryo Archon and the Doctor, “-will go in and pretend to apologize and if they don’t believe you Lumine will be your bargaining chip, if they are looking for the Traveler, this should work.”
You glance at Lumine who looked like she was about to reject this plan any second now. “I know how this sounds but I won’t let anything bad happen again, okay? Once they let their guard down I will take over everything.”
The Traveler nods slowly, now feeling reassured about the plan.
“The rest of you should stay on the ship, we will return as soon as possible.”
They all say good luck before returning to the ship like you ordered, Nahida leaves in the other direction, Lumine couldn’t blame her, she wouldn’t want to be with them either.
You and your newly founded group leave Port Ormos with Dottore leading, he wasn’t lying when he said he knew this place well. No one in the group said anything, maybe because nothing needed to be said or because of the stunt they were going to pull off in the next hour. Whatever it was, the silence was still comforting.
It would only be an hour before Teyvat was fully yours again, but if what you fear is true, then Celestia’s betrayal will be a new problem for you to overcome.
-
-
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Note: my plan was to have this out two days earlier… that did not happen 💀 Anyways only two more chapters left, are you ready to confront your doppelgänger?
Taglist: @esthelily @the-dumber-scaramouche @grimreapersscythe @seawater-aurelia-writing @probablynoposts @genshin-impacts-me @itsredactedlove @chidouna @thedevioussmirk @hoo-hoo @chaoticfivesworld @akemiixx01 @lunarapple @nowords-onlybreathing @fangirlinindia @veyu002 @blackcoffex @kaveh-is-pretty @ariasdream @averycuriousperson @bloopthebat @chuuya-brainrot @crazydreamcat @sparklyphantom @multistanbee @bluebelony @mokakoto @mega-trash-cringe CLOSED
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ugotcooneycrossed · 1 year
Text
will you love me 'til the end of time?
alessia russo x reader
w/c: ~2.6k
alessia leaves for aresenal, she leaves behind manchester- she leaves behind you.
a/n: this is pretty sad hahahah😭
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Manchester is a lot different without Alessia- the sad, cold, rainy weather seems almost worse without her here.
Her bright beaming smile that lights up any room she’s in- it isn’t here anymore.
And, as dramatic as it sounds- you feel like you’ve forgotten almost everything about her already.
You know she’s just a text away, even just a phone call away.
She’s a four hour and seven-minute car ride away.
A two-and-a-half-hour train journey away.
But still, she feels like a lifetime away right now.
You know the other girls don’t deserve your foul, sour mood but you really can’t help it.
Alessia and you had been living together- your lives so intertwined for so long, and she just left, like you meant nothing to her.
Sure- you never made it official, but best friends don’t kiss each other when no ones looking, best friends don’t take each other on family vacations, best friends don’t confess how much they love each late at night- under the covers, best friends don’t buy each other promise rings- best friends don’t promise to love each other through anything.
Best friends don’t leave each other and move hours away.
You still remember the night you found out. She didn’t even tell you she was leaving- you had found out from her Instagram.
“You’re leaving?”
Alessia whips her head around at the sound of your voice- she looks panicked at the sight of you clutching your phone, knuckles white from how hard you’re holding it. Your promise ring glimmers in the sunlight and is just another reminder to Alessia of what she’s leaving behind.
You swallow down the lump in your throat and you can feel your eyes well with tears- Alessia opens and closes her mouth a few times, trying to gather her thoughts.
“(y/n)… I was meant to tell you I swear- I had no idea that, that was being posted now.”
“Does anyone else know?”
“(y/n)-“
“Less. Did anyone else know before me?”
“Yes.”
You huff out a breath- sitting down across from her, you can’t bring yourself to look her in the eye, you know if you did your resolve would break immediately.
“When do you go?”
“At the end of my contract.”
Two weeks.
You let out a long sigh. Rubbing your face to hide your tears. It’s no use though- your voice cracks when you ask her another question.
“Where?”
“Arsenal.”
“London? Seriously?”
“You know I can’t stay here.”
“Not even for me?”
You finally take a second to look at her, and you feel your heart break just a little. She’s crying now, sniffling quietly and toying with her fingers.
“You can’t ask me to stay here for you, (y/n).”
You’re both crying now- you feel guilty, cause yes- you know that you cannot possibly ask her to stay here- just for you.
“I know.”
A thick silence envelops you and your lip trembles more at the thought of being so, so far away from her.
Alessia breaks the silence first- reaching over to you, to hold your hand.
“I swear I was going to tell you- I didn’t want you to find out like this.”
“Well I did. Who knew before me? Everyone?”
Alessia whispers her answer to you.
“Basically… yeah. I was just trying to figure out how to tell you.”
“Well it’s too late now.”
“I’m sorry (y/n).”
“Yeah, sure.”
Maybe you could’ve handled that better- you wish you would’ve, but staying in the apartment that you shared, that you lived in together- you couldn’t bear to be there a second longer, so you left.
You left Alessia crying on your couch.
Best friends for years- lovers, or whatever you guys were for nearly just as long.
And two weeks- two, to say goodbye.
You barely spoke to her- too mad, and too upset to truly deal with the fact that she was leaving.
You had gone back to sleeping in your bedroom- a place you hadn’t gone to in years, not after moving everything into Alessia’s.
You’re not used to sleeping alone- every morning you wake up, and feel around for her but she’s not there anymore. Every morning your hands hit cold sheets.
Boxes of her stuff started to appear around the apartment.
Two weeks, turn into one- and eventually, there’s only one day left.
You can hear Alessia in the apartment moving the boxes with her brothers- you’re hidden away in your room.
You eye the promise ring she had given you years ago- something you swore you’d never take off- now it sits on your desk, atop a note you wrote, which you’re sure has tear stains on it.
You grab it- waiting until the three of them are all outside by the car and you silently walk out and slip it into a box.
You grab the ring and note- waiting until the three of them are all outside by the car, you walk out of your room and find a box- slipping the ring and note on top. You tape it up, and bring it outside.
Gio and Luca eye you weirdly but you pay no attention to them and drop the box by their feet.
You turn to leave but a hand wraps around your arm.
“(y/n) wait! Can we talk?”
You bite your lip and turn to her, waiting for her to speak.
“In private?”
You turn to walk back into the apartment- and you can hear Alessia trying to catch up to you.
The apartment looks bare now- every sign of Alessia is gone, and you feel tears prick your eyes.
She stands in front of you- nervously playing with something in her hands, you notice she still has the promise ring you gave her on.
She hold out what she was playing with to you.
It’s a key.
“Here- it’s a key, to my place in London. You’re uh- you’re welcome there any time.”
“Thanks.”
Silence once again falls between you two- and you try not to cry when you hear her voice crack.
“Can I at least have a hug? I miss you so, so much- things have been different between us lately, and- I’m sorry- I just really miss you.”
You open your arms and Alessia practically falls into them- she’s sobbing into you, and you feel your own tears run down your face.
“I’m so, so sorry Lessi- I regret ignoring you, I regret the way I acted, I’m so, so sorry.”
“It’s okay.”
“But it’s not! I was such an idiot.”
“(y/n) it’s okay- I swear, I don’t want to fight with you.”
You stand hugging each other for a while- until her brothers come up to take her away.
You watch her go- and cry in her bed that same night.
-
You knew the time would come eventually- where you’d have to see her on the opposite side of the pitch. You just hoped you’d never have to play when it did roll around.
Warming up- you can’t even gather the courage to look at her.
You haven’t spoken in a long time- but you’ve kept up to date, you’ve seen her shine at Arsenal and you couldn’t be prouder.
“You finally going to talk to her?”
You look at Tooney and purse your lips- shrugging your shoulders.
“Dunno- maybe.”
Tooney sighs- walking to you to kick the ball at your feet away. She grabs you by the shoulders and shakes you.
“Look- you love her, she loves you. You know she couldn’t stay here- I know you don’t like it but you need to get over it. Whatever it is that you two had going on needs to happen again, I’m sick of hearing Less on the phone, and then having to see your sad puppy dog face in real life. Ella needs a break!”
The shorter girl walks away- shaking her head.
You finally glance over to the other side and make eye-contact with her.
Alessia sends you a soft smile and you return it- and you flinch when she manages to trip over one of the cones set up.
You see her cheeks heat up- and you hear Beth’s laugh echo across the field.
She sends you a thumbs up and you laugh softly.
Both teams are called back in and you take the chance to run back inside before you can get caught with her.
“Excited to see her?”
It’s Leah who asks now- and she grabs you around the shoulders pulling you into her. You push her away and roll your eyes.
“Why does everyone keep asking me that?”
You grumble and make a move to sit at your cubby.
“Because you’re still totally in love with her?”
Now, it’s Mary who butts in.
You stand up- clearing you’re throat and gathering the attention of everyone in the room.
“Listen up! I am not in love with Alessia still okay? Thank you!”
“Sure.”
“Shut up Tooney.”
Kick off goes smoothly- and lucky for you Alessia isn’t starting.
By half time you’re absolutely spent. The score still nil all.
Your worst nightmare though, comes to life at the start of the second half- Alessia is subbed on and now you have to defend against her.
You see her make a run and with no one else left to mark her- you bite your tongue and run after her. Frida sends a cross to her and when the ball gets to her feet- you tackle her.
You freeze in your spot on the ground when you hear her body thud on the ground.
You feel a hand on your back and you don’t bother looking up at who it is- only speaking into the ground.
“Is she okay?”
“She’s fine- look.”
You peak up at who’s talking to you and you see Foord- she’s crouched down next to you and has one of her hands placed gently on your back, the other pointing at Alessia.
You look in the direction she’s pointing at and see Alessia sat up- drinking water and talking to some medic.
You sigh in relief- and face plant back into the ground.
“Come on- get up.”
Caitlin helps you stand and you thank her- moving away from the Australian.
“Yeah no worries.”
The game goes on and you try your hardest to avoid her for the rest of it- and thankfully the game ends soon after, the score nil all.
Going back to the changerooms- you know the amount of shit you’re going to get as soon as you walk in.
“(y/n) if you wanted Lessi to fall for you, you didn’t have to completely wipe her out.”
Mary’s booming laugh echoes in the room- and you roll your eyes.
“I wasn’t trying to hurt her.”
“No, you weren’t just hoping she’d fall on top of you or something, hey.”
Tooney insinuating voice makes you scowl and you shove your belongings into your bag- leaving the room quickly.
Walking through the halls with your head down and headphones on probably wasn’t your smartest idea.
So, when you bump into someone- you look up and start profusely apologising.
“It’s alright.”
“Oh…”
Alessia appears in front of you again- she’s toying with something on her finger and when you look closer it’s the promise ring you gave her- she never took it off, only, when you look closer, she’s wearing the ring she gave you too. The one you gave back to her.
“Hey (y/n)… can we talk?”
“Yeah- what’s up Less.”
“Umm right. Okay- I miss you, so much, and I just wanted to know, I guess why you gave me back your ring?”
She looks so sad and it kills you.
“I- I don’t know- you were leaving and I was upset. That’s all.”
“Do you even know what it felt like to find that?”
“Hey Lessi what’s this?”
Alessia looks to what Lotte is talking about- and her heart drops at the sight of your ring.
Lotte is holding it up and in her other hand, she clutches the note.
“Give me that.”
She snatches it out of Lotte’s hand and reads over the note.
‘hi less,
I’m sorry but I can’t have this anymore- not with you gone. Sorry.’
“That’s it? What?”
“What’s it- what is that? Don’t tell me you got married without telling me.”
“No Lotte I didn’t get married.”
“Then what is that? Looks like a ring to me.”
“It’s a promise ring- (y/n)’s, I guess she gave it back to me.”
“You were together?”
“Yeah- I guess.”
“Oh, I’m sorry Less.”
“It’s fine- I’m just going to be in my room.”
“Yeah- yeah, sure.”
Alessia sits on her bed- playing with the ring in her hands.
She debates whether or not to take off her own- but decides against it.
Even if you’re done with ‘whatever’ it was that went on between you two- Alessia decides she’d wait for you.
“I guess I don’t Less- do you have any idea what it was like to find out you were leaving through instagram?”
Alessia looks guilty and you feel bad for getting upset with her again.
“I said I was sorry for that.”
“I know.”
A cough interrupts your discussion and you want to crawl into a hole and die- both teams are standing at the end of the hall awkwardly shuffling their feet and looking up at the ceiling.
“I’ll talk to you later?”
Alessia asks hopefully.
“Yeah- sure.”
-
Alessia’s apartment is a twenty-minute walk from your hotel- you know, you looked it up before you even came to London.
The key she gave you feels heavy in your pocket and you almost back out of coming to see her all together.
You’ve missed her terribly- Manchester is not the same without her, you miss everything about her.
Deep down- you know she couldn’t stay, but still- it didn’t hurt any less when she left.
The door swings open before you can even think of using the key and Alessia pulls you into a hug.
You hold each other for a while- and for the first time in a while, you feel relaxed- you feel at home.
“I missed you.”
Alessia speaks first and you sigh- biting you cheek.
“I missed you too Less.”
“Why’d you never call?”
“Why didn’t you?”
Alessia pulls away from the hug- she holds you at arm’s length and frowns at you.
You shrug off her hands and step into her apartment- looking around you can see everything about this place that makes it her’s. Every little thing that just screams Alessia.
Every little thing that used to fill your own apartment.
 You take the time to go through her apartment- eyes tracing every detail when a packet of lollies catch your attention.
You walk over to it and pick it up, throwing it between your hands.
 “I thought you didn’t like these?”
“Yeah- I don’t, I keep forgetting I bought- used to­ buy them for you. Sometimes I swear it feels like you’re still here.”
“Right.”
You put it back down.
“You can have that if you want.”
You nod at her and shuffle your feet.
You both go to speak at the same time- but she insists you go first.
“Did you want to talk about anything in particular Lessi? Before I go home.”
“Yes- well, I just wanted to know if we still had a chance together? I mean I know you gave me your ring but-“
“Were we ever together in the first place?”
“Wha- What do you mean? Of course, we were.”
“Only behind closed doors, right? Not in front of the fans?”
“What? You know I never had a problem with that.”
You know you’re picking fights with her- but seeing her live another life, away from you- it makes you so sad.
She left you behind.
“(y/n) I love you- please.”
“You want to try long distance?”
You ask, and she answers almost immediately.
“Yes.”
“It’s not going to be easy you know.”
“Shouldn’t we at least try?”
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harrywavycurly · 7 months
Note
I can just imagine bff Harry and reader always sharing gossip over wine or coffee😂
Hiii lovey!!! Oh yes you know those two always have gossip to share with each other!! So I hope you enjoy these little conversations between them when one of them has something to tell the other😂💖
-find everything Where We Started here✨
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“Harry? Are you decent?…Harry?” “Hmmm?” “Are you asleep? Get up I have something to tell you.” “S’not even seven in the morning….it can wait.” “It absolutely cannot wait now get up and I’ll have coffee waiting for you in the kitchen.” “Wait you’re…in my house? This isn’t…a dream?” “Do you dream about me often?” “Don’t be mean it’s too early to be mean.” “Oh stop whining and get up.” “Just tell me what it is and then I’ll decide if it’s worth getting up for.” “Niall has a girlfriend.” “Niall? Niall Horan? Niall James Horan of One Direction…that Niall Horan?” “Yes! Now get up!” “When the bloody fuck did this happen?” “While he was in London now please get up we have to go meet her.” “Meet her? When?” “For breakfast now I’ll pick your outfit if you’ll please start getting out of bed and go brush your hair and your teeth.” “Wait wait wait…Niall has a girlfriend and he didn’t tell us till we are headed to meet her? That’s a bit uncool don’t you think?” “Well uhm…I might have…known about her-” “and you didn’t tell me?” “He asked me not to until he knew it was serious.” “How long?” “How long what?” “Have you known about her?” “Uhm…since their first date…uh…two months…ago.” “Jesus! How did you manage to keep that to yourself for so long?” “It was hard now…get up.” “Sorry I’m getting up…but you’re not picking my outfit.”
“Did you drag me to a library to tell me this so I couldn’t scream?” “Possibly…yes…yes that’s exactly why I brought you here.” “Harry you can’t just drop this on me and not expect me to want to squeal and jump up and down this is huge news you asshole!” “Shhhhh you’re going to get us kicked out…it’s not that big of a deal it’s just a movie.” “Just a movie? It’s not just a movie…it’s a movie that you have one of the main roles in and you’ll be acting alongside Florence Pugh.” “And Chris Pine.” “I’m so excited!” “You are so loud…let’s get out of here before you get us put on some sort of list for people who are banned from public libraries.”
“Did you steal that bag from my closet?” “No I bought it off your website…you have these in your closet? And didn’t give me one?” “I figured you’d ask if you wanted one? You asked for the Pleasing sweatshirt when it dropped.” “So…why did you call this emergency picnic?” “I have some…news.” “News? About you or someone we know?” “Someone we know…” “ohh please enlighten me…who’s it about?” “Mitch…and Sarah…” “oh my god did they break up? Don’t make me cry Harry it’s not even noon.” “They are having a baby.” “Oh my god! I just said don’t make me cry!” “Ouch don’t go hitting the messenger! I just found out like an hour ago.” “That’s so exciting oh I love this for them.” “Yeah it’s gonna be cool to have another baby to be the god father of.” “Bold of you to assume you’re going to be this baby’s god parent.” “I’m the one who introduced them so uh yeah…I’m gonna be a god father.” “More like the weird uncle.” “Weird? I’m not…I mean…I’m not too weird like creepy weird or anything I’m just…me.” “Yes you’re just you and that’s why everyone loves you so much…you’re weird and it’s great.”
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axelsagewrites · 9 months
Text
Jan Maas*Buttercup
Pairing: Jan x pregnant!reader
Word count: 2479
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Warnings: accidental pregnancy, morning sickness, petty arguments, mentions of childbirth but nothing detailed, Jan being the biggest girl dad ever
Requested by @hypocritic-trash-baby (sorry it took sooo long)
Masterlist Here
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There were many, and you meant many, downsides to working in a pub but one of the upsides just walked in. the Richmond coach Ted lasso and beard came in pretty regularly already but recently Dani, Sam, and Jan had also become regulars with the latter being the only thing you can think about. Jan mass was tall, handsome, and his jersey number was 13 which was basically fate since it was your lucky number.
“Hello,” his adorable Dutch accent greeted you as Sam and Danni claimed a table. “Three pints please,”
“Hiya and no problem,” you grinned, already holding the first pint in your hand since you knew their order by heart not that it was hard to remember, “How are you?”
“Better now,” he smiled, sipping on the first pint you slid him. “I was wondering if I may ask you something?” he asked, his smile dropping for a second as he glanced to his friends.
You tilted your head but smiled anyway, “Course you can. What’s up buttercup?”
Jan chuckled at this, always finding your expressions funny for some unknown reason to you. however, everyone on the team knew why. The boy was absolutely smittened by you. “Would you like to go on a date with me?”
You almost choked on the pint you weren’t even drinking and for a second his smile faltered before you quickly began to splutter, “Well yes that sounds I mean yes I think I mean fuck-“ you paused, sitting the final pint down before smiling, “I’d like that yes,”
“Okay great,” he said but it came out as a laugh, “Could I pick you up tomorrow? Say seven o’clock?”  he asked as he handed you the money for the drinks.
“Seven. Perfect. I can meet you here if you’d like?”
“Okay,” he said, picking up the tray of drinks before adding, “Buttercup,” with a large grin.
You watched him walk to the table for a moment before turning to Mae, “Could you- “
“Yes, I’ll cover your shift you little pest,” she rolled her eyes before finally grinning, “Told you he bloody fancied you,” As she said this however cheers came from the Richmond players who were now patting a very happy look Jan mass on the back.
-
The first date had gone so well you woke up in his apartment the next morning before he whisked you out for breakfast and a second date. You didn’t actually sleep in your own apartment for the first four days after the date you were that wrapped up. Thank god for the off season.
Jan mass was everything you could hope for. He was sweet, kind, honest, and downright gorgeous which helped. You had been dating for 8 months now before the first problem arose. Sure, you had had petty arguments, but this was far more serious. Two pink lines stared back at you in the bathroom.
“Honey, I need to leave now or ill be late!” Jan Mass called through the flat you had now moved into with him. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah!” you called back, wrapping the stick up in a ton of toilet paper before stashing it in the back of the bathroom cabinet behind the spare toilet rolls. You’d deal with it later you told yourself as you quickly washed your hands and pressed the cold backs of them to your eyes to try depuff them.
You ran out the bathroom with a forced smile, but Jan mass was angrily pacing the room, “I cannot be late,”
“We won’t be late,”
“We will,” you began to bicker as you both ran out the building to the car. The whole way there he complained as you drove, but you saw the way his leg was bouncing. After all each of these games were important if they wanted to make it back to the premier league but his constant petty jabs were not helping the delicate situation.
When you arrived at Richmond he basically ran out of the car, ditching you to find a parking space. Technically he’d been right but by the time you parked he was only 3 minutes late but only to the recommended early start time Ted recommended to get them ready.
After another quick cry in your car, you headed up to Rebecca’s office to meet her and Keeley. “You alright babes?” Keeley asked, her head tilting like a puppies when she saw your eyes.
“Yeah, I’m fine just allergies,” you smiled. Somehow you managed to dodge the rest of their questions as you headed to the stands.
“Look at your man,” Keeley grinned, nudging you as Jan Mass ran onto the field. You smiled lightly and just nodded making her sigh. “What happened babes?”
“Nothing- its just he was being annoying today that’s all,” you tried to assure her, but she gave you that look like Rebecca screamed her team on. “He was just getting all bitchy cause he thought we were gonna be late,”
“Maybe he’s on his period,” she joked, and you felt your stomach drop as you tried to laugh along.
Richmond tied, again, which even though was technically a good thing was just starting to get everybody down. You’d decided to head home before Jan and when he arrived you were in no mood to talk to him. Especially not since morning sickness decided to hit your mid game instead of the expected 8am.
By the time you made it home you honestly just felt like crap and collapsed onto the bed. At some point you must’ve fallen asleep because when you woke up Jan was sat beside you on the bed stroking your back. “Hey,” you muttered, your head falling back onto the pillow.
“I’m sorry. For earlier. I shouldn’t have snapped,” Jan said as he moved to lay in front of you, wrapping his arms around you, “Everything has just been so stressful you know? especially with another tie,” he half laughed but you knew it had been weighing on him, “You disappeared half way thought though. I thought you’d already left but I saw you just before we finished,”
You tried your best to smile but you could tell he didn’t believe you, “Just didn’t feel very well but id never miss a game. You know me,”
“I do,” he smiled, wrapping his arms tight around you and bringing you into his chest, “My little trooper,”
-
You knew you should’ve told him, but you didn’t know how. As you searched online for ways to tell him you fell down a rabbit hole of unhappy reactions. He was already so stressed with football a baby wasn’t exactly going to help with that or fit into his busy schedule. What happens if he has an away match when you’re in labour? Or if he wasn’t ready to settle down? Or if it throws him off his game?
Eventually you snapped under the weight of it all and broke down and told Keeley. She came over in a heartbeat to help you hug it out and try get you excited. “We should go baby shopping!” she said suddenly grabbing your arm, “Cmon it’d be so cute! We can pick up a baby Richmond jersey or something,”
“Okay alright,” you laughed as you tried to pick yourself off the couch to get ready, “And thanks for coming over, babes. It’s just been so hard wrapping my mind around it,”
“I know babes,” Keeley said as you both got ready to leave. You sent Jan a quick text saying you would be back around 5 since he was still at practise, “But hey once you tell him it’ll be a thousand times easier,”
“I hope so,”
“I know so,”
-
Shopping defiantly helped lift your spirit and Keeley even agreed to stash the baby things at her place, but you did take the baby Richmond jersey with you and stuffed it in the bottom of your handbag. You came home all smiles as you opened the front door. “Honey I’m home,” you jokingly called as you tossed your keys in the bowl by the door. “You home yet?”
“In here,” Jan called from the bathroom. You sat your bag down and wandered to the open door, seeing Jan standing in front of the sink looking at something. “I was looking for bandages,” he said softly as you walked in and went to wrap your arms around him, pressing your cheek into his back.
“Oh no are you okay?”
“Yeah um. I hurt my ankle a bit but its fine. What is this?” he asked, his voice coloured in shock however when you looked past him the colour drained from your face.
You started to stutter, all the joy vanishing when you saw his blank expression. “It’s a pregnancy test,” you eventually managed to say, swallowing the lump in your throat.
You unwrapped your arms around him as he turned to face you. “And its positive?” he asked as if he wasn’t holding the literal evidence in his hands.
“Yes,” you said, your eyes falling to the floor as you felt them start to well up.
Jan sat the test down and you have expected him to push past you and straight out the door. but instead, his hands moved to cup your face, his thumbs rubbed over the tops of your cheeks, “I love you. so much. I cannot wait to meet them,” he whispered as you noticed his own teary eyes.
You couldn’t help but laugh a little as you lent up to kiss him, “I was scared to tell you,”
“Why?”
“Encase you hated me,” you confessed, seeing his face fill with guilt, “I didn’t want to ruin you career or throw you off- “
“Football is a job,” he interrupted, “one that yes, I love and yes has become my life. But you are my family. never for a second think you don’t come first,” he said before he tightened his arms around you and you allowed yourself to cry into his chest while he stroked your hair, “We’ll make it work baby. We always will,”
After a few moments you pulled away, “You wanna see what I bought?” you asked while leading him into the living room to get the tiny jersey out the bag.
You turned and showed it to Jan who’s smile somehow got even wider, “See,” he said as he took the jersey, “How could you possibly ruin anything? We’re going to have another player on the team,” he said, and you both laughed this time.
-
You did however make him promise not to tell anyone about the baby however keeping it a secret was hard. Jan’s birthday was coming up however and with the whole team really needing a chance to blow off some steam you both decided to invite them over and tell them at the same time.
The players had completely taken over your flat, every seat was taken and half of them were sat on the floor. Jan however made sure you had a seat. As everyone was sat around the room Ted stood up to give a birthday toast to Jan. “So, a very happy birthday to you my friend,” Ted finished his speech, all the boys giving a small cheer or a clap.
Jan stood up from where he’d been sitting next to you on the couch to take Teds place at the front of the room, “I would also like to thank you all for coming however I have a confession,” he said, looking at you with a wide smile, “I have an announcement to make,”
“Now you better not be quitting on us,” Ted joked making you and Jan both chuckle.
Keeley sent you an excited grin when she realised what was happening, “I’m not going anywhere,” he laughed, “No actually there is someone coming to meet the team. And they are very special to me, so I hope you love them just as much as I do,”
“Is it Zava?” someone asked causing a flurry of conversations and a very loud ‘shut it’ from Roy.
“Someone even better,” Jan said once he finally had their attention again. He pulled the tiny jersey out of his back pocket and held it up, “We’re having a baby,”
To say the team erupted in cheers was an understatement. You were suddenly being hugged by about 20 different footballers all at once who were all congratulating you both. Even Roy gave you a hug it was wild.
-
However, it was not easy being pregnant. Especially not when your stomach suddenly became the size of a large watermelon that weighed what felt like 100lbs. between the stress of Jan’s job and the constant pressure on your bladder and joints there was defiantly some struggles but some how some way you managed and now you were holding a baby girl in your arms.
“She’s so beautiful,” Jan whispered as he sat beside you on the bed. “Just like her mother,”
As you leaned in for a brief soft kiss a nurse knocked on the door, “Hi you have um some visitors?” she said making you look at Jan.
“Who did you tell?” you sighed but he just gave you a sorry smile. “How many are out there?” you asked.
The nurse popped her head out and did a brief count before giving you a sorry look, “20ish people?”
You groaned but internally smiled since you knew your daughter would be surrounded by love. You turned to Jan, “Two at a time. two minutes each. No one gets to hold her, but they get to see her,” he nodded and instantly got up to fulfil your wishes.
The first in were Roy and Keeley. Keeley instantly rushed to give you a hug on the side that you weren’t holding your daughter while Roy slowly wandered over to look down at the small bundle in your arms. “She’s fucking beautiful she is,” he said, voice choked with tears making you and Keeley chuckle.
Jan however was less than impressed, “Hey! Language,” he said rolling his eyes.
“Sorry, sorry. Effing beautiful,” you let that one slide, however. Half an hour later the whole team had finally met her and were content enough to finally leave though they all left some kind of gift for her ranging from baby cleats she wouldn’t be able to wear for months to a massive panda bear from Isaac.
Finally, though it was just you, Jan and your baby again. “Can I take her?” he asked and you of coursed passed her over, “Hi baby,” he cooed as he held her to his chest. “I love you so much. Both of you,” he added, kissing the top of your head.
You smiled up at him, watching how he awed over your daughter. “I love you too,”
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docpiplup · 3 months
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ASOIAF CHARACTER OF THE WEEK- DAVOS SEAWORTH
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Davos Seaworth by Chris Dien
For the Character of the Week, I would like to share one of my favourite moments of Davos Seaworth.
"Your Grace?"
“For your onions and fish, I made you a knight once. For this, I am of a mind to raise you to lord."
This? Davos was lost. “I am content to be your knight, Your Grace. I would not know how to begin being lordly.”
“Good. To be lordly is to be false. I have learned that lesson hard. Now, kneel. Your king commands.”
Davos knelt, and Stannis drew his longsword. Lightbringer, Melisandre had named it; the red sword of heroes, drawn from the fires where the seven gods were consumed. The room seemed to grow brighter as the blade slid from its scabbard. The steel had a glow to it; now orange, now yellow, now red. The air shimmered around it, and no jewel had ever sparkled so brilliantly. But when Stannis touched it to Davos’s shoulder, it felt no different than any other longsword. “Ser Davos of House Seaworth,” the king said, “are you my true and honest liege man, now and forever?”
“I am, Your Grace.”
“Then rise again, Davos Seaworth, and rise as Lord of the Rainwood, Admiral of the Narrow Sea, and Hand of the King.”
For a moment Davos was too stunned to move. I woke this morning in his dungeon. “Your Grace, you cannot … I am no fit man to be a King’s Hand.”
“There is no man fitter.” Stannis sheathed Lightbringer, gave Davos his hand, and pulled him to his feet.
“Then we will make new lords.”
Davos IV, A Storm of Swords
Westeros as a feudal society, inherently having power and ruling is mainly meant for the Royal and Noble Houses and lower classes like the smallfolk are limited to obey and serve their Lords. Nobles who not always make good decisions and the smallfolk suffers because of those decisions, but as it's the class in which they were born and inherited from their parents/relatives. Take for example, Axell Florent.
In this chapter, Axell is trying to become Hand of the King, he even threatens Davos that if he doesn't support him, he'll kill him. But when it comes to give advice, he's horrible, as he proposes Stannis to attack and loot Claw Isle because Lord Celtigar abandoned Stannis, that means that smallfolk will be harmed.
And then we have Davos, of humble origins, who knows what the smallfolk suffer as he's one of the few POV characters who are not nobles. Davos tells Stannis to not punish the people from Claw Isle due to the treason of Lord Celtigar, as Stannis himself abandoned his rightful king Aerys II during Robert's Rebellion. Plus Lord Celtigar's people have lost many lifes during the Battle of Blackwater, it would very cruel to punish them, as Davos points out.
That wisdom and empathy Davos shows by giving that advise it's the reason Stannis finally decided to name Davos as Hand of the King, and although I don't particularly like Stannis, I think this choice of choosing Davos as a his Hand is a nice move. Westeros society is very classicist, naming a man from the smallfolk as Hand of the King is a big deal, knowing that other lords would look over Davos because of his roots.
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storm-angel989 · 6 months
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Outside The Office Part Sixteen
Hi All!
Trigger warning loud and clear for this one for drugs and implied sexual assault.
As always, feedback is appreciated!!
It was almost eight by the time the four of us arrived at the club. Unlike past nights, where time would be spent drinking and dancing, I stayed at the table and watched the scene around me. An hour passed. Then two. With each sip of water I took, I wondered when Valentino would take me to go make a deal with a soul, as he had promised that morning. Everything else was in place. I had read through the Lucifer approved contract, and although I understood about seven words of it, I trusted Lucifer enough to know that whatever was in the contract was something that would be carried out automatically, and posed no risk to me. 
“Are you ready, mi amore?” Valentino asked finally as he walked back over to our table. He studied me. “You’re sober.”
“Of course. I’m not going to fuck this up with alcohol, especially given my..history with the drinks here.” I scowled at him as I spoke. 
He shrugged. “You may change that mindset after tonight. But it doesn't matter. Follow me.” 
I stood up and took his hand as I followed him across the room. It never ceased to amaze me how people parted ways for all of the V’s, but Valentino’s presence in particular seemed to scurry them out of the way. He pulled his own V shaped necklace from around his neck and pressed it to the door. Identical to my times with Velvette, we stepped inside and I watched as he pulled the book from its hiding place. 
“In time, Vox will show you how to use this technology. But for your first time out, I’m offering you a choice of two souls. One is a teenager, a female. What little information we have access to tells us she’s eighteen, stole a cache of cocaine and overdosed at a house party. The other is a female college student, twenty two years old, fell down the stairs and cracked her head after raping one of the men in the dorm next to hers. Which one will you save?”
“The teenager,” I said as I looked at him as a sense of disbelief washed over me. Was he seriously asking me this question? “Isn’t that obvious? Isn’t stealing drugs a lesser crime than violating another human being?”
He shrugged, “in this line of work, it isn’t always a question of morality. It’s sometimes a question of who will be easier to convince, which soul will be the easier one to make a deal with. Experience tells me that an eighteen year old who overdosed is going to be a harder one to talk sense into than the twenty two year old. The eighteen year old  more than likely will fight the idea of death, especially if her brain is still under the influence. In addition, the twenty two year old more than likely understands exactly what she did wrong- and will be more likely to accept a
deal with that knowledge and the guilt that often comes with that awareness. And remember, both souls are free to decide if they want to take your deal- you cannot force them.”
“The eighteen year old,” I said firmly. “Her.”
He nodded. “As you wish.” He muttered the same words Velvette had muttered and together, we stepped through the portal. 
My first visit with Velvette was bad. The subsequent ones were equally as tragic and sad, but nothing I had seen up until that point held a candle to the scene I walked into. 
The scent hit me first: stale beer, unwashed bodies, and filthiness. Around me, bodies covered the room in various stages of consciousness. Some were upright, still drinking. Another small group, a mixture of older teens in various stages of undress, chanted over a table full of red solo cups, bouncing a ball back and forth. Wordlessly, Valentino slipped a GPS tracker into my hand- a map to lead me to the soul I sought.
“Yeah, baby!” One of the girls shrieked as the ball made it into the cup. She gave him what I assumed she meant to be a seductive smile and slowly, she peeled her shirt off. 
I let out a shutter and reached for Valentino behind me. His hand took mine as we continued to walk through the house. The deeper we ventured, the less conscious humans I saw.
Climbing the stairs. I passed by two men- boys, if I was truly being accurate, inhaling from a joint they passed between the two. 
“Dude, what time is our history test tomorrow?” I heard one say to the other. “Cause, do you think we’ll make it on time?”
“Nah bro, I got like…four skips left. I think.” the other answered drowsily. 
I wrinkled my nose as the skunk-like scent. Of all the drugs Valentino had taught me about, marijuana was right up there on the top of the safest list. Safer even, than alcohol, he pointed out. And as much as the data he provided me proved to be true, I wouldn’t be partaking anytime soon. My reaction to the drugs Lucifer had given me would hopefully be my first and last experience in that field. 
“Door to the left, reader,” Valentino said, breaking me from my thoughts. “And quickly. We don’t have much time left before she crosses. Starting a contract conversation with a soul will slow that clock, but only so much.” He put his hand on my shoulder and I looked back at him. “What you find inside will anger you. Maybe even scare you. Don’t let it. You are here to help, not to pass judgment.” 
I pushed open the door and the truth behind Valentino’s warning echoed loud and clear. The room held nothing more than a card table in the center of the room and two twin beds pushed together against the far wall. A plastic like mirror hung on the wall next to a matchstick dresser.  I watched as two men got off the bed and pulled their pants up. I checked my GPS unit. Only one soul was indicated, right where the bed was. 
“Fuckin wish all bitches went this flexible.” One grunted to the other. “Serves her fuckin right, stealing from us.” 
Instantly, the pieces of the scene clicked together. Anger flooded through me, power coursing through my fingers as I stepped forward. I felt Valentino’s hand yank me away as the boys walked through us, and behind us, the door slammed shut. 
“You have a soul to save, princessa. Go, quickly. Your clock is ticking.”
The power receded and frantically, I rushed over to where her broken body lay on the bed. Her eyes shut, her breathing shallow, her lips a bluish-gray. Above her, a whitish substance floated above her. Valentino was right- she didn’t have much time. 
“Alexia Caddel?” I asked, sitting on the bed next to the body. “Alexia?”
“What is happening to me?” A desperate voice floated through the room. 
I took a deep breath and began to repeat the lines Velvettle had so carefully taught me. “Alexia, listen to me. One of two things is about to happen. When you die, and make no mistake, you will die, in the next few moments, and your soul will be cast straight into hell.” 
Around me, the whiteness began to swirl, desperate wails filled the room. Apologies, promises that it would never happen again, it was just one time…
“Keep going, reader.” Valentino’s voice encouraged me from behind. 
Despite the anger at the situation, and the worry that she wasn’t listening, I continued. “This is where I offer you a choice. You can arrive in hell, with no home, no friends, and no control over the rest of your existence. Or, you can come with me, and I will ensure that when you arrive in hell, the Sin who lays claim to your being does not collect. Instead, I am offering you a safer landing, a chance to bypass that Sin and arrive with the security of shelter, a career, and the things you need to create a better existence. All I ask for this kindness is ownership of your eternal soul.” 
“I am too young to die!” the voice screamed as the whiteness began to form a solid shape.
Shit. I was really almost out of time. My words came fast as I desperately tried to get her to understand.
“Alexia, I’m so sorry, but I’m telling you the truth- you’re about to die and while I can’t stop it, you can control what happens next. You can accept my offer and land safely, among people who understand what you’ve been through, people who will help you- but I can’t make that decision for you!” 
In the air, the contract and pen floated up towards her. 
“Alexia, all you have to do is sign. Please, let me help you.” I finished. “Please, Alexia!” 
I heard Valentino’s voice in the background, but couldn’t make out his words. The soul, now a fully formed human teenager, let out an inhumane shriek. My contract and pen disappeared as a green mist surrounded the whiteness. On the bed, her lifeless body let out a final jump, a gurgle and then…
Silence. 
Darkness filled the room as the soul vanished, the green mist along with it. A feeling of despair washed over me as I looked at her lifeless body. There was no mistaking the fact that she was gone. 
“Princessa.” Valentino’s voice sounded very far away. 
I felt his hand on my shoulder.
“Princessa.” He repeated, this time louder.
Anger rushed through me and I turned around. At my fingertips, power pulsed red as rage took over every inch of me. 
“Reader, you don’t want to do this,” Valentino said sharply. “Reader, listen to me. Listen to the sound of my voice.”
“I’ll kill them. And then I’ll kill the sin that yanked her from me!” I didn’t recognize the snarl that was my voice, nor the red eyed reflection I caught in the mirror across the room. 
He tried to take my hand and I pushed him away. He began to fly back but caught himself, intertwining his fingers in mine and grabbing at my face. 
“Reader. You need to listen to me. You cannot harm them, you do not have that power. Not here on Earth. Only two beings have that power- your Uncle Lucifer, and the Creator himself. You know that. Even if you find them, you can't physically touch them. It is a waste of your time, and a waste of your power.”
A sense of powerlessness washed over me. And then numbness. Valentino’s words were true. Despite trying my best, I had failed. Alexia was in the hands of the Sins now, and until she passed into her ring of hell there was nothing, nothing I could do. And finding her, a single soul, in all of hell would be next to impossible. The sin’s didn’t log names- only numbers. I felt Valentino’s arms wrap around me and ever so gently, he guided me back through the portal.
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countrymusiclover · 6 months
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4 - The Feast pt 2
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Part 5
The Last Velaryon
Tag list @rise-my-angel @cdragons
Lord Eddard and King Robert Baratheon made their way outside of the feast hall. The laughter and loud noise could still be heard when they walked away out of earshot from others to have their conversation. Eddard paused in his steps. "You're grace, what did you wish to talk about?"
"No formalities, Ned. It's about that Velaryon girl." Robert eyed his friend.
Ned asked him. "What concerns you about her?"
"I think I might have made a mistake when I stripped Jaime of his white cloak." The king declared under his breath.
Lord Stark wasn't sure what to make of his words. "What do you mean?"
"I mean the Kingslayer doesn't seem to give a damn about her. He is hiding something. Only problem is I don't really care to find out what." He chuckled.
Ned clicked his tongue. "We cannot judge someone until we know whether they are a man of honor or not. But what does this have to do with you second guessing your own command?"
"I haven't done much research on the Velaryon house but I figured the lord would have fought against the man who basically helped me banish their house."
"If your house is close to being very small I suppose you would do anything to keep it alive." Ned pointed out.
Robert simply nodded his head. "I've been thinking about this, Ned. I am king and seven kingdoms declined loyalty to me so why not use that power to change one declaration I just wrote."
"Your grace, if you mean to go against the Lannister's I don't think that would be wise." Ned warns his friend and king.
Robert scoffs. "I don't care what they pay me not to. I am not blind Ned and I know you just saw it too. There's something between that girl and your son."
"It is a good thought, your grace. But that's all it should remain just a thought. I doubt Robb has even thought of a betrothed yet." Lord Stark shrugged his shoulders knowing his son and his young at heart nature. He was still a boy, even though he was very good at following the lessons he had been taught so far in life.
Robert moved closer to his friend, staring into his eyes with a serious expression. "You're his father. If he hasn't thought of the idea of marrying her then persuade him to. I'll deal with Tywin Lannister when the time comes."
Three years ago - Haelesa's pov
That morning I was dreading more than I care to admit to myself now. It was the day I had to say goodbye to one of my closest Joella Bridges. Picking up the ends of my nightgown I scampered through the hallways until I reached her chambers knocking three times on the door. "Joella, it's me. Open the dang door!"
"Enough with the shouting. We don't want to wake the whole castle staff. Once they're awake I'll have to start packing to leave." She shushed me by tugging me inside her room and quietly yet quickly shutting the door and locking it.
I admitted throwing my arms away from my sides. "I don't want you to leave. Why can't it be if you're lord father isn't dra yet then the man travels to live with the girl."
"I'm going to miss you too, Haelesa and Chezney too of course. But my parents already agreed to it." She opened her arms and we raced to embrace one another.
Her father had married my mother's older sister and so we we're cousins by birth. Now her father had decided to ship her off for marriage....the only real reason this happened was the tale of bettering one's house. And I had done my own research from what I could find on her soon to be new family. "You don't want to marry this man. It's claimed he has a mustache, Joella."
"Yes but I've also been told he is very cheerful." She added on slightly breaking the hug so we could see the other's face.
I made a noise sticking my tongue out to her. "It's still gross thinking you'll be kissing a guy with hair around his mouth...eww, Raynald Westerling!"
"Haelesa stop it okay. I am already nervous enough and your teasing isn't helping." Joella admitted dropping her arms at her sides.
I smiled at my cousin. "I'm just saying, Ella. You'll be kissing a guy with a full beard."
"Okay, let's change the subject. I want you to promise me something." Joella replied.
Taking her hands in mine I asked softly. "What kind of promise?"
"Promise me that even though we will be away from each other that you will tell me off your adventures. Whether they are big or small. If you find love or not. I want to know everything. So send me letters, cousin." She explained to me with that cheeky smile she always had on her face when we got to spend time together.
Squeezing her hands in mine I immediately agreed without hesitation of what she was asking. "Of course. As long as you do the same back to me.
"I promise." She hugs me gently and I wrap my arms around her hugging her with the same level of emotion.
Robb and I were still just silently walking around the abandoned courtyard of Winterfell. Everyone else was still awake enjoying the feast with the royal family. He paused in his steps outside a wooden cage canal looking at me. "I wanted to show you something."
"Show me what?" I questioned him wrapping my arms around myself and I had taken his other fur cloak that he had given earlier on the day.
He undid the locks of the pen and I gasped taking a step back seeing an animal exit the pen. The animal in front of me was a wolf from what I could by the pointy ears and the long wagging fur tail. "This is GreyWind. He is my direwolf." He responded by running his fingers through the wolf's gray coat.
"I've never seen a direwolf before. Where did you find him?" I asked, lowering myself down on a knee reaching forward and petting his fur when he sniffed my hand before I touched him.
Robb stands on the side of the direwolf. "My father had me and my brothers out hunting with him in the woods. Their mother had died and so each of the Stark children got to have their own pup. We just had to take care of them."
"Aww that's sweet. He seems like a good boy." I smiled still, moving my fingers through his fur and he began wagging his tail back and forth.
Robb smiled down at me. He had been enjoying your company from the moment you two had met. He wished he could spend more time with her. But unfortunately he figured that wouldn't get the chance. "I have trained him as best as I could. "
"You really are something, Robb. You'll make a good Lord of Winterfell one day." I praised him getting to my feet not caring about the mud stains on my dress.
He blushed but I couldn't tell how bad it was given that the only light was provided by some burning torches on the walls and the fact that it was completely dark. "You barely know me and you're already giving me praise, Haelesa. I am not sure how to take it. But thank you."
"You're welcome, Robb. Maybe if we're lucky we can know more about each other before I leave in a few days." I smiled, clasping my hands together in front of me.
Footsteps could be heard coming around the corner causing both of us to turn our heads seeing Lady Catelyn rushing over to us. I could see the annoyance in her facial expression. "Robb, you shouldn't have left the feast. This is for the royal family. Why in the seven kingdoms are you out here?"
"I'm sorry, mother. I was simply showing Lady Haelesa my direwolf." Robb apologized to his mother.
Catelyn shifted her head quickly over to me. "You're the Velaryon girl that is supposed to wed the Kingslayer."
"Yes Lady Stark I am. I am sorry if I have made any problems this evening." I bowed my head giving her a small curtsey.
She shakes her head focusing back on her first born son. "I am just here to say that your father went off with the king to talk about something. So you need to go back inside and represent your house in your father's stead."
"Of course, mother." He nodded in understanding, placing GreyWind back inside his cage. He walked past me and his mother glanced over his shoulder back at me. "I'll see you later, Haelesa."
I looked into his brown eyes waving bye to the young boy. "See you later, Robb....uh if you see my friend Chezney,  Lady Stark. Tell her I am retiring for the evening."
"Goodnight, Lady Haelesa." She responded watching me walk away and she could sense that something was between her son and the young woman.
Comments really appreciated ❤️
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Part Seven: "Pour Over" ~ S. Harrington
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Summary: (Then) Between postpartum blues and her baby's needy coos, Reader's having a hard time adjusting to her new life. But she quickly learns that sometimes you get by with a little help from your friends. — (Now) After dealing with her fussy child all night, the last thing Reader wants is a complicated day at work. Luckily for her, a certain nurse knows just how to make her day a little easier.
Pairing: Nurse!Steve Harrington x Fem!Byers!Reader
Word Count: 1,640
Content Warning: postpartum talk, anxiety talk, mentions of vomit (nothing in detail though), very mild swearing, mild hospital talk, mentions of food, lmk if i missed anything!
Extra Notes: yall i am so so so sorry that this took me so long to finish, more on this later but rn all i have to say is the world's biggest apology 😭
Originally Written: 01/06/2024 through 01/23/2024 (i'm so sorry)
honeysuckleharringtons main masterlist can be found here!
'brew and me' series masterlist can be found here!
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[ Then, February of 1988 ]
At this point, you weren't sure how you hadn't died from sleep deprivation.
It had been a whole two weeks since the baby was born, and you were pretty sure you hadn't slept a wink since. One sleepless night had turned into two, and well… now you couldn't remember the last time you had slept.
The clock on the wall told you it was nearing three in the morning, the blackness outside the windows further proving that fact. The baby was once again crying, and no amount of midnight feedings or diaper changes or rocking her in the rocking chair had done the trick. You were warned about colic, but nothing could've prepared you for what it would be like in real time.
Another new nightly ritual was a tired Joyce stumbling into your bedroom, eyes heavy and feet shuffling. You knew exactly what she had in mind, but your Byers genes were far too stubborn to accept her offer.
“Mom, we're fine,” you insisted from your spot in the rocking chair. But even you knew that to the naked eye, you surely didn't look fine. Unwashed hair, blanket tossed messily over your lap, purple spots nearly black underneath your eyes.
Joyce just sighed from her spot in the doorway. “Honey, you are clearly not fine. Don't take this the wrong way but you're a mess.” The comment almost hurt you, though you supposed you appreciated your mother's honesty.
“I'll be okay,” you insisted. “It's not my first sleepless night.”
She moved to sit on the edge of your bed, across from the newly placed rocking chair and crib. “That's the problem, honey. You need sleep. You can't properly be there for her if you-”
“I can't leave her.”
“Don't get enough sleep and-”
“Mom, I can't-”
“You need to eat something too, honey. I mean, when was the last time you-”
“Mom!” you raised your voice this time, effectively cutting her off. “I cannot leave this baby.”
Joyce let out a long sigh, running a hand through her already messy hair. “If you don't take proper care of yourself, exhaustion is gonna hit you like a freight train. Then what?”
You supposed she might be right. But still, her comments couldn't make you see past your postpartum anxiety, worst case scenarios running rampant through your mind.
“What if something happens to her while I'm asleep?” you asked, voice weak. “Or what if she thinks I left her, just like…” you couldn't finish the statement before tears began to prick your eyes.
“Y/N, you know that me and Will would never let anything happen to this baby.” You could tell by her tone that she was being genuine, though both of you knew her words were useless when it came to your anxiety. “We love both of you. We would never let anything happen to her.”
Tears pricked your eyes as your panicked thoughts ran rampant. “What about Dad?”
She nearly fell off the bed after hearing your question. “Dad? What does Lonnie have to do with-”
“I keep having this weird feeling in my gut that Dad is gonna try something with her,” you explained, tears fully soaking your cheeks now. “Like he's going to try and take her from me.”
“I would never let that happen.” Joyce's words weren't a suggestion. She said them with such finality that you were tempted to believe her. “Lonnie walked out of here seven years ago. He hasn't gotten in here yet and I will make damn sure he doesn't get in now.”
Your heart was racing a million beats a minute. You weren't really sure why—other than postpartum anxiety—that Lonnie had been on your mind. But just the thought of him sent shivers up your spine and tears down your face.
Clinging harder to the bundle in your arms, careful not to hurt her but still holding her closer, you rocked gently in the chair in hopes of calming both yourself and the baby. Her cries had yet to subside, if anything they'd just grown louder.
“Mom, I'm so scared,” you finally broke. Even you could hear the weakness, the brokenness, the defeat in your voice. “What if I'm doing this all wrong?”
Joyce stood again, with that same finality as her words from earlier. “I'm not here to tell you how to raise your baby. You're the mother now and you know what's best for you and her,” she started, the words stern but gentle. “But I am here to give you advice as a mother myself. Babies can sense things. Maybe she's upset because you're upset.”
And with that, Joyce was stepping toward the door, reaching for knob, and then-
“Okay.” The word came out as defeated as you felt. “I'll let you have her just long enough for me to shower and eat something.”
She turned to face you with a small smile, not one of smugness or one of someone proving a point, but one that showed you that she was simply just glad to help you out. She left a soft kiss on your forehead as she took the baby from your arms, quickly taking your place in the rocking chair as you headed over to your dresser.
“Mom?”
Her smile went a little sideways as she looked up from the baby to you. “Yeah?”
“I love you. Don't ever forget that, okay?”
With a small nod, Joyce replied, “I won't. Don't you forget that I ditto.” A phrase that had been around since you were little. You weren't sure who started it, but in this moment you were thankful for it, five letters meaning the absolute world to you.
You walked over, leaving a peck to the prickly hairs you'd been seeing so much of these days, warmth filling the entire expanse of your body. “I love you, bub.”
“I'm sure she dittos you too, honey.”
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[ Now, January of 1992 ]
A loud yawn sounded from the other side of the counter, breaking you from your own mess of sleepy thoughts. “Me too,” you chuckled as you looked up, a yawn slipping between your own lips. Dark hair and round glasses met you, purple spots thick underneath his eyes. “You look about as tired as I feel.”
Steve chuckled, shaking his head. “I wouldn't have known it if you hadn't mentioned it,” he said. A crease formed between your brows as you wondered what he meant. “You look as nice as you always do.”
He set a new record for how quickly he'd ever made butterflies go off inside you. “Careful, Doc, or I'll think you're flirting with me,” you said through the crimson blush that had started to appear on your cheeks.
“Sorry,” he said sarcastically, “Must be the sleep deprivation from the double I just pulled.”
You cringed at his words, knowing all too well what that felt like. “I know the feeling. I might as well have pulled my own double after staying up all night with my dau-”
The word got caught in your throat as you realized what you were about to say. “Dog,” you covered quickly, hoping your lie flew over Steve's head.
On the outside, you were hoping to appear calm and cool. On the inside, you were face palming. You'd been sleep deprived many times before, considering you once had a baby on your hands who had colic from the day she was born. Not to mention being a mother made you miss sleep in many ways of its own. But you couldn't recall a time where you'd been so sleep deprived that you almost spilled your biggest secret to a practical stranger, much less a practical stranger who you were actively avoiding telling the secret to.
“I didn't know you had a dog,” Steve said with furrowed brows, his voice bringing you back to reality.
Even though you hated to lie to him, you were thankful that your job had given you the ability to think fast. “Yeah, she must've eaten something she wasn't supposed to. She was up all night throwing up.” The real story was that Mandy had snuck into the kitchen to eat the rest of her leftover Christmas candy after you told her not to, but Steve didn't have to know that.
“Plain rice helps.”
His reaction caught you off guard. “Huh?”
“Plain rice can help a dog's upset stomach,” he explained. “If it keeps happening though, you should definitely take her to a vet.”
Steve's suggestion was oddly sweet, and honestly tugged at your heartstrings a little bit. “Thank you for the tip. Out of curiosity though, how do you know about caring for a sick dog?”
His broad shoulders shrugged, and you tried not to drool at the sight of them. “I almost went to vet school. Boy, would that have made my dad mad. Not that med school has made him any less angry.” As if realizing he was rambling, an awkward chuckle slipped between his lips and he turned his attention to the menu. “You didn't ask. Anyway, what do you recommend?”
“Nice try,” you answered, rolling your eyes. “But for you, I recommend going home and getting some sleep.”
Steve chuckled, and the sound went straight to your belly. “Hey, you don't have to tell me twice. I just pulled a double and I have to be back on campus for classes in about five hours.”
Part of you wanted to tell him to just take the night off and get some rest. Another part of you wanted to drive him home yourself and tuck him in. “I do not envy you,” you giggled. “To answer your original question though, how does a strawberry smoothie sound?”
He met you with a closed-lip smile, one that had started to feel so comforting and oh so familiar these days. “That sounds perfect.”
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So this is about a month late...
I want to apologize for being gone with no announcement or explanation. Lots of things have happened in the past couple weeks that have taken a severe toll on my mental health and I just haven't really had the time to write, much less the energy.
I am feeling a little better and I have talked to my boss about my hours so I'm hoping that'll help somewhat. I really miss giving you guys content and I miss interacting with you guys.
Anyway, I hope you're all doing well! ❤️
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-> taglist: @dungeons-are-too-cold @ducky-died-inside @awkotaco24 @liberhoe @princesseddie @corrodedseraphine @manuosorioh @esoltis280 @hazydespair @frostandflamesfanfic
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44 notes · View notes
mint-yooxgi · 2 years
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{11} - Morning Mist - Yandere!Dragon!Ateez X Chubby!Reader
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Yandere AU & Dragon AU
Genre: Mature, Horror, Angst
Pairing: Ateez X Reader (Focus on Yeosang, Jongho, and slight Mingi)
Words: 5,345
Warnings: Past death and trauma alluded to, This is a Yandere story, it will contain themes such as stalking, violence, obsession, possessive natures, and just general overall creepiness and swearing. You have been warned.
A/n: After quite some time, I finally present the next chapter of this series!!! Yay!! I really hope you all enjoy it! What I originally planned for this chapter is actually going to occur next chapter, but I think what happens, especially at the end is really important for the story. Can anyone guess what it is? Hehehe as always, feedback is greatly appreciate! Enjoy~
Also, gentle reminder that I do not do tag lists.
Chapter One - Chapter Two - Chapter Three - Chapter Four - Chapter Five - Chapter Six - Chapter Seven - Chapter Eight - Chapter Nine - Chapter Ten - Mini Masterlist
The next few days pass by with Jisung still following his own grieving process. He stops by either your place, or the Neo’s nest for food and to rest, before taking off into the peaks of the mountains again. A few times, he’s allowed Chenle, or Sungchan to join him, but he mainly flies solo for the time being.
You’re just glad he already seems to be beginning to heal. It’s a slow process, but steady, nonetheless.
The training with both San and Wooyoung has come to a slight pause for the moment, seeing as you’re now dealing with a grieving cub. Luckily, the two males are quite understanding, taking the time to perfect what you’ve already taught them. Quite eagerly at that, too.
You’ve even noticed a slight change already in all five of the Hala’s demeanours since you’ve began training those two rambunctious dragons of theirs. There seems to be a sharpness to their eyes that had never been their before, as if they are more in-tuned to their surroundings. A fact of which makes you incredibly content, for they are all learning more than you could have ever hoped for in such a short period of time.
Though, one thing that has been on your mind recently, is the fact that for the past few nights, you’ve sensed a very specific Hala flying closer and closer to your cottage. He seems to stop himself before he reaches the edge of the little clearing your house resides near, but he has started circling the area a few times before turning back each night.
Today is no different, but instead of just sensing one presence, you sense two. The exact two that had been on the edge of your radar that night with Jisung. Only this time, they seem to want to imitate how both San and Wooyoung were that first week with Jongho.
Stepping outside of your home, you rest a basket against your hip. Time to go harvest some herbs. Whether those two decide to follow you or not is up to them, but you’re not going to let them off the hook so easily.
Reaching the small natural garden just beneath the base of the one mountain, you get to work. You manage to pick herbs for about ten minutes before you hear some rustling coming from behind you. Long since have you sensed their presences, and at least they’re more stealthy than both Wooyoung and San were, but you do not fail to miss the harsh smack that sounds followed by a short hiss in response.
“You know, if you two were trying to track me, or even so much as observe my daily routine, you need to learn a few things first about cooperation.” You say casually, not even bothering to spare a glance behind you.
The bushes go deadly silent.
“Oh? What’s this?” You quirk a brow, turning to glance over your shoulder. “You think I don’t know when I’m being stalked? Especially by two dragons who have made it somewhat clear that they cannot stand me?”
A moment’s pause.
“We’re not stalking you.” Yeosang appears from within the bushes, stepping into the little open space you’re in between the trees.
“Then, what else would you call spying from the bushes?” Your lips quirk, turning back around to continue gathering herbs. “Observing?”
“See, I told you this was a bad idea.” Mingi grumbles, shoving himself out of the underbrush in the next second.
“You dragged me out.” Yeosang shrugs, crossing his arms over his chest.
Again, you turn to look at both males with a quirked brow. At the way you see Canary Man begin to sputter, ears turning bright red, you know the shorter of the two speaks the truth.
“Is there a reason you keep circling my territory every night, Canary Man?” You ask, shifting your position slightly to begin gathering a different herb. “Are you planning to burn my house to the ground while I sleep?”
“No!” Comes his immediate response, and you’re surprised by how panicked his answer sounds. He clears his throat. “I wouldn’t do that to someone who has saved my brothers' lives more than once.”
You hum, a slight quirk to your brow. “Wise answer.”
Yeosang shifts slightly on his feet. “We’re just curious about you.”
“Oh?” This piques your interest. “Are the stories your brothers tell about me that awful that you have to come see for yourselves?”
“How do you know they tell us stories?” The flame headed male crosses his arms over his chest.
One knowing glance from you says it all.
“They’ve said they’ve learned a lot,” Yeosang comments. “Not just from you, but from the Neos as well.”
“My boys are smarter than they lead people to believe,” you acknowledge. “If they wanted to, they could have claimed the crown a long time ago.”
You can just feel the way the taller male tenses behind you. “So, you do know more about this supposed jewel, then.”
“My father will never let me forget it,” you sigh, tossing the herbs in your hands rather pointedly into your basket. In the next moment, you’re standing back to your feet. “Is there a proper reason you’re here, or am I supposed to play assumptions until you leave?”
“Like we said,” Yeosang eyes the basket that you pick up and hold against your hip. “We’re just curious about you.”
“If you’re curious, you can come and ask me questions. Do not stalk me from my bush.” Your eyes narrow. “I thought I already made that clear to your youngest.”
“You did,” Canary Man huffs, amusedly. “Not that he’ll shut up about you, regardless.”
“All of them seem to enjoy discussing the topic that is you recently.” Yeosang observes, watching as you begin to walk towards one end of the mountain with that basket still in hand.
“I have also been told that someone enjoys my cooking,” you spare a knowing look towards the taller male, lips quirking teasingly. “You know, you’re both more than welcome to join our cookouts.”
Canary Man’s cheeks flare, halfhearted splutters of denial falling from his lips.
A soft chuckle escapes you, yet you fail to see the way Yeosang’s demeanour falters ever so slightly behind you.
At the way you notice the two of them still standing like statues in their spots, you spare them another glance over your shoulder. “Well, are you going to join me? I’m nowhere near done picking herbs, and I’d rather not continue being stalked from the bushes.”
That seems to get them moving, the two falling into step just behind you. Though, you notice Yeosang keeping quite a respectful amount of distance between himself and your back. Something the other male doesn’t seem to pick up on.
The moment you reach the edge of the small stream, you kneel once more. A small patch of herbs rests along the banks, and you begin picking through them, pulling the best ones and placing them into your basket.
Awkwardly, the two males shift on their feet behind you.
“If you’re as curious as you claim, you may ask me questions.” You say, not even bothering to spare them another glance. “I might not answer everything, and I have the right to refuse a question, but I am not unreasonable.”
Softly, Yeosang kneels beside you. “Would you like some help?”
You cannot hide the shock on your features as you blink at him in response. Then, you smile. “Sure.”
You don’t even have to say another word, for the male immediately gets to work. He’s a little cautious at first, moving slowly as he picks some of the herbs from the bank of the stream. Though, once he sees you nodding, somewhat subconsciously in approval, his confidence grows, and he begins to pick a little faster.
“You seem to know what you’re doing.” The taller male comments, moving to stand over his brother while feigning disinterest.
“Unlike you, Min, I listen to what my brothers have to say,” Yeosang retorts, somewhat knowingly, as he places another handful of herbs into your basket.
“I listen!” Said male protests, crossing his arms over his chest as a slight pout tugs at his features.
Again, you chuckle, and you fail to see the way Yeosang’s gaze darts briefly towards you out of the corner of his eyes.
“So, have Sannie and Woo been giving you private lessons after finishing my own?” You inquire, sitting back onto your ankles as you observe the bank carefully.
“They’ve tried,” the male still on his feet grumbles.
“Not necessarily.” Yeosang shakes his head at the same time.
“Yeo is just observant like that.” Canary Man finishes.
“Ah,” your brows raise in understanding. “Impressive. Are you the informant, then?”
“You could say that,” he smiles, somewhat faintly, his bangs hiding his eyes as he leans forward.
“You’re observant. A good skill to have, especially when gathering information.” You comment, pushing yourself back to your feet and dusting off your hands.
Instantly, Yeosang is back on his feet with you, your basket resting gently in his hands. Just as you go to reach for it, he turns away, already walking along the side of the stream.
You chuckle, “the next spot is this way.”
The way you quirk a brow at him has his cheeks dusting with a very faint pink as he walks back over to you. You pretend not to notice.
“Where did you learn all of this?” The taller of the two asks, nothing but curiosity in his tone despite him attempting to hide it. “How to harvest herbs and make remedies?”
“I believe I have mentioned that I am much older than I appear,” you smile faintly in response. “My father trained me for quite a long time. The rest I learned through trial and error.”
“You’ve made mistakes?” Yeosang’s brow furrows.
“I know, it’s quite difficult to believe,” you chuckle, leading them into a tiny clearing with a few bushes scattered around. “I still do. Not everything is perfect, nor is it meant to be. The important thing is to learn and grow from your past failings. Though, try not to fail when it really counts.”
At the way you suddenly grimace, the two dragons share a look.
“Is this about-“
Mingi’s inquiry gets caught in his throat as Yeosang harshly elbows him in his side.
You let out a sigh. “You do not know me well enough to be asking questions on such a personal topic you've eavesdropped upon.”
“Our apologies.” Yeosang bows slightly, that basket of yours tucked against his front.
Your eyebrows raise, slight amusement dancing within your orbs.
“What? Does him apologizing to you surprise you that much?” The taller male tilts his head slightly in curiosity.
“It does.” You blink, beginning to pick through some bushes to gather their fruit. “I am simply surprised by today’s turn of events.”
“We’re not as terrible as we seem.” Yeosang mumbles, averting his gaze to the side.
“No,” you hum. “I don’t believe you are.”
Your admission clearly catches them both off guard, for they blink at you in shock. Still, Mingi cannot prevent the corner of his lips from twitching upwards slightly. A fact which has him clearing his throat and steeling his resolve in the next moment.
“You both really don’t know how to stalk something without being extremely obvious you’re there, do you?” You tease, lightheartedly.
“We did what we always do.” Yeosang shrugs, moving over to observe the berries you’re currently picking while holding the basket out to you.
“Considering you have the power to harness wind, I’m surprised you don’t know how to cover your scents completely yet.” You reply, tossing the handful of fruit you hold into your basket.
“Cover our scents?” The taller frowns. “We do that already.”
You shoot him a look. “To basic creatures, maybe. But not to me or my Neos.”
“What do you mean?” Yeosang asks, brow slightly furrowed in confusion.
“You hide your nature to humans, hunters, and the like, but to trained creatures, they’d still be able to pick you out of a crowd.” You reply, turning your full attention to Yeosang beside you. “Which is surprising, given everything you can do with wind.”
“What can I do with wind?”
“Hide in plain sight.” Comes your immediate response, and you watch as he blinks in shock at you. “You can hide scents, sounds, cover your tracks, and everything. You just have to know how to harness your powers properly.”
“Yunho did say I could potentially tear the air out of someone’s lungs.” Yeosang nods, recalling the words his brother spoke to him a little while ago.
“You boys are still young, and you have much to learn.” You nod.
“We’re not that young.” Canary Man crosses his arms over his chest.
“Compared to me, you are.” You reply bluntly.
“I doubt you know everything.” He huffs.
“I don’t,” you agree, and you watch shock paint his features. “But I know a far greater deal than you.”
A low growl escapes his lips. “Are you challenging me?”
You snort out a laugh. “Believe me, Canary Man. If I were to challenge you, one of us would already be dead, and it wouldn’t be me.”
Even though Yeosang attempts to hide it, he cannot prevent the grin from taking over his lips.
“Stop smiling, she just threatened me!” He snaps, a hint of a whine to his tone as a frown pulls at his features. “And stop calling me Canary Man! That’s not my name.”
You nod slightly in acknowledgement. “Then what is your name.”
He blinks, clearly caught off guard.
“Mingi.” He swallows. “My name is Mingi.”
“Well, Mingi,” you meet his gaze, “has anyone ever explained to you how similar your personality can be to your power?”
His eyes flash in annoyance. “Plenty."
“No, I’m not just talking about someone saying you have a fiery personality,” you add, noticing how his jaw twitches once more in irritation. “I mean it in the way that fire is both equally consuming and rejuvenating.”
You can tell he’s caught off guard by your choice of words, and even Yeosang looks a little taken aback.
“It’s clear to me that many of you Halas are still attempting to find who you are.” You continue. “You simply cannot let your powers consume you.”
“What do you mean by that?” Yeosang questions, head tilted curiously in inquiry.
“I mean,” you turn to meet his gaze. “Do not let your power become what defines you. Yes, fire types can be hotheaded-“
“Hey!” Mingi doesn’t even get a chance to continue protesting before you’re continuing.
“But they can also be strong, unwavering, and warm like the very flames they can create.” You purposely meet Mingi’s gaze, and you notice how he swallows somewhat thickly. “Our powers can influence our moods, and decisions, but ultimately it is up to us whether we let them consume our every action. Fire is both destructive and healing. You just need to find the balance.”
“How would you know?” Mingi spits, taking a threatening step forward.
Your eyes flash in warning, and he backs off. For now.
“We are a lot more alike that you think. All of us.” You meet his gaze, a hint of amber shining within your own. “I have dealt with flame wielders more often that you think. You are more than just complete destruction. No one knows that better than me.”
Mingi scowls, spine straightening beneath your somewhat sympathetic gaze. He doesn’t understand why you’re looking at him like that, nor why your words seem to resonate so much with his very soul. What he does know, though, is that he’s had enough of this conversation.
“I’m done here,” without another word, he takes off, shifting into the air and flying away.
You let out a long sigh. “Perhaps that was too soon.”
“You certainly know a lot about our species.” Yeosang comments casually, peeking at you from out of the corner of his eyes. “As much as the ancients do.”
You purse your lips, wiping the excess berry juice onto your pants before going to reach for the basket in his grip. 
Again, he pulls away.
“I have enough sense to know there’s more to you than you’re letting on,” he comments, following right beside you as you begin to make your way back to your cabin. “I can only imagine what makes you so guarded, given the state of your back-“
“What have you seen?” The brief flash of fear he sees light behind your eyes as you shove him against the closest tree has him dropping the basket in shock.
“Just what happened when San accidentally grazed your upper spine,” Yeosang blinks, rather warily.
You seem to breathe a sigh of relief, detecting no false intonation of his voice from his answer. In the next moment, you’re pushing yourself off of him. “Sorry.”
“There’s no need to apologize,” he replies, leaning down to grab the basket once more after wiping off the front of his shirt. “Whatever happened must have been quite traumatic. You don’t let anyone touch your back.”
You spare him a cautious look. “Again, your observations are quite keen.”
“I am curious, but it’s not my place.” He answers, quite honestly at that, too.
“You’re right. It is not your place.” Your blunt response fills the air with a tense silence.
A silence which stretches on for quite a period of time. That is, until he’s breaking it once more.
“We haven’t told Mingi or Seonghwa about it.” He says, voice a mere whisper on the wind. He clears his throat lightly. “About your back, that is.”
His admission completely catches you off guard. “You haven’t?”
“I wouldn’t feel right if I did.” Comes his immediate reply. “I don’t know you very well, and you don’t know me. We’re not enemies; you’ve helped my clan more than we deserve. It would not be proper for me to-“ he catches himself, “for us to repay your kindness in such a traitorous way.”
Again, his words manage to shock you, and all you can do is blink at him.
“Jongho told us that your trust does not come easy,” he continues, “but you’ve already extended an understanding towards us that I know most of us do not deserve. We misjudged you, and I want to apologize for how standoffish I was at the start.”
Your lips tug upwards faintly in the corners, expression softening. “I think we truly are beginning to understand one another, Yeosang.”
The dragon before you cannot deny the way his heart simply races at hearing you address him so openly by his proper name.
“I think so, too.” He smiles, the corners of his eyes crinkling as you both pause momentarily on the path.
You take the time now to search his gaze, just as he searches your own. Soft smiles rest on both of your features as you nod once. The way a weight seemingly lifts itself off of your shoulders has you relaxing, for it was something you hadn’t realized that you’d been carrying.
As much as you don’t want to admit, you’re starting to care for these Hala dragons. Though, from the looks of things, they’re also starting to care for you, too.
“I do have one more thing to ask you,” he says as the two of you continue back down the path once more.
“Oh?” You quirk a brow in inquiry.
“That salve you gave Hwa,” he begins. “He’s run out, and both San and Wooyoung refuse to make him more.”
You huff out an amused laugh. “They’re right to. We won’t start learning those types of mixtures for another week.”
“Seonghwa’s too proud to ask you himself,” Yeosang grimaces. “Would you- uh, might it be possible if-“
You can tell he’s struggling to get the words out, given how his cheers flare with a deep red.
“Are you asking me to prepare another salve for him?” You hum, knowingly.
“If you don’t mind.” He breathes, grateful you seemed to understand where he had been going with all of this.
“If he wants something, he should get used to asking for it himself.” You say, looking straight head.
Yeosang sighs. “That’s what I keep telling him.”
“Keep in mind, I’m not saying ‘no’.” A light hum escapes you.
The male cannot prevent the way his head whips towards you, hope shining in his eyes.
“I’ll let him know.” Yeosang echoes your hum, a small smile tugging at his features.
For the rest of the walk back to your home, a comfortable silence stretches on around you. There is an air of ease that settles between the two of you, perfectly content to simply enjoy the other’s presence. You’ve noticed that Yeosang isn’t much of a heavy talker, and you rather appreciate the way he can communicate with you only using either a few words, or simple glances. It’s quite a change from your typical exchanges with most of his brothers.
When you finally make it back to your place, you notice another dragon lingering around your back door.
“There you are, I was getting worried.” Jongho meets you halfway, reaching out to you only to halt himself before his hand can so much as graze your arm. He locks eyes with his brother. “What are you doing here?”
You notice how quiet Yeosang goes, demeanour shifting slightly from the comfortable silence you had just been experiencing, to a sort of tense guard. You frown slightly, but say nothing.
“I simply wanted to learn more about the woman that has the five of you so captivated.” Yeosang replies, somewhat bluntly.
Jongho pulls the basket out of his brother’s arms, somewhat firmly. All the while, he shoots the elder a look.
“We had a rather nice conversation, didn’t we, Yeosang?” You hum, turning to the aforementioned male.
“I’d say so,” he breathes, eyes softening ever so slightly as he shifts his gaze to you.
Jongho’s eyes narrow slightly, attempting to get a read on his brother. He doesn’t appreciate how close you and Yeosang appear to be all of a sudden.
“Thanks for your help,” you nod to Yeosang once more.
“Anytime,” he smiles, before turning to give his brother a firm nod. “See you at home.”
Without another word, Yeosang is shifting and flying away into the light of the now setting sun.
“You two seemed close,” Jongho grumbles, walking with you the rest of the way to your backdoor.
“He was simply curious,” you reply, stepping through the threshold only for Jongho to follow right behind. “He wasn’t alone, but Mingi decided to storm off earlier.”
“Mingi was with you?” The disbelief is clear in his voice as he places the basket of herbs onto your counter. “And he didn’t attempt to bite your head off.”
“Oh, believe me,” you chuckle. “I think he wanted to.”
“He hasn’t mentioned anything to us yet.” Jongho frowns.
“Ah, your clan connection,” you nod in understanding. “Perhaps he’s actually mulling over what I said.”
“What did you say?” Jongho quirks a brow curiously.
“Just some observations about his powers and personality,” you shrug, beginning to sort through the herbs in your basket.
“And he didn’t spontaneously combust?” If Jongho’s brows raise any higher, you’d swear they’d disappear into his hairline.
“I think he wanted to,” you chuckle. “But no. He did not.”
“You seriously are incredible,” he sighs, somewhat dreamily, sitting on your one stool and resting his cheek in the palm of his one hand.
“Is that a regular occurrence?” You grin, gathering a separate bowl to put all of the berries you collected into.
“I can’t count the number of times he’s singed one of us in anger,” Jongho chuckles. “I will never forget the impromptu haircuts we usually have to give ourselves thanks to him.”
“Oh, I believe you,” you nod, laughing along with him.
“Still, I’m surprised he even sought you out.” Jongho hums, wordlessly beginning to help you sort the herbs into separate piles on the counter.
“I was told they were curious,” you briefly glance up at him. “Seems someone is overbearing with their stories.”
Jongho’s mouth parts, greatly scandalized by your words. 
“I would never!” A blush begins to creep up his neck. Then, a mumble, “San and Wooyoung hardly ever shut up about you. Even Joong and Yunho can’t keep their mouths shut.”
You smile, a knowing gleam in your eyes as you step up beside him to affectionately ruffle his hair. “Aw, is my little man jealous?”
“Little?” He huffs, and in the blink of an eye, he’s stood back to his feet, trapping you between his arms against the counter. Slowly, he leans in, and you can feel his breath ghosting the skin of your neck. “I’ll show you there’s nothing little about me.”
You wish you could deny the way your breath hitches. Yet, at the pleased growl you feel reverberate against your chest from him, you know he’s heard it, too.
Gently, his hand is placed onto the side of you hip, squeezing the flesh appreciatively. What truly makes your head spin, though, is how tender his hold is. Not only that, but despite the sudden darkness that you can see swirling in his eyes, there’s still that undertone of affection dripping through.
A moment later, and you manage to gain control of your thoughts once more.
Slowly, you raise a hand to his chest, gently pushing him off of you. Only, he doesn’t budge.
“Jongho,” you sigh his name, and you immediately hear how his own breath hitches in his throat.
“Please, My Fated,” his voice is low, uneven as he speaks into the skin of your neck. “You must know what hearing my name falling from your lips in that tone does to me.”
This time, when you push him away, you use slightly more force.
“You don’t get to refer to me as that, yet.” Despite attempting to keep your tone sharp, you cannot help the waver in your voice.
You can see how his expression falls before you, shoulders drooping slightly as he steps away. Then, it’s as if he’s fully registering your words, for a spark of hope begins shining within his eyes.
Yet. You said he doesn’t get to refer to you as that yet.
“Only a mutual imprint designates the use of those name.” You say, carefully stepping away from him for the moment.
“Not to me,” he replies, honesty dripping from his tone as he meets your eyes. “Not when it’s always felt this right.”
“Then, I’m asking you to wait.” Your tone is softer than it was a moment ago. “I cannot promise the commitment you want from me right now, Jongho. I’m not promising you anything. The last person I gave my heart to-“ your breath catches in your throat, and you find yourself averting your gaze. You take a deep breath to steady your nerves, curling in on yourself for the first time while standing in front of the male before you. “The last person I gave my heart to shredded every last bit of me to pieces.”
A silence so deadly settles over the room, and you spare a glance upwards to see Jongho barely controlling his breathing.
Anger radiates off of him in waves, a hint of electricity spiking within the air. The tips of his fingers begin to spark as his eyes flash, steam escaping his nostrils with every exhale.
“It was Kun, wasn’t it?” He’s furious, whole body visibly trembling as he looses the grip on his anger. “I fucking knew it-“
“Jongho!” Your sharp tone manages to draw his attention to you for the moment. “Kun is not who I am referring to. He is none of your concern. Stop making one of my oldest friends into a villain.”
“Then, why-“
“I have already told you that he simply did what was best for him at the time.” You sigh, leaning back onto your counter once more. “He didn’t want to wait, and neither should you.”
“And I thought I already told you that I would wait however long it takes, even if it meant I only got to spend one day with you.” His voice softens, taking a cautious step towards you. “All I want is the chance to call you mine, and for you to call me yours.”
Slowly, you spare a glance up into his eyes. Just as they shone that night in the clearing, they shine now, the sincerity managing to take your breath away yet again.
“I need you to understand-“ you swallow, emotions suddenly heavy in your tone and threatening to choke you out at any given moment. “I need you to understand that I may never be able to give you what you seek.”
“Just being with you like this is enough for me,” he replies, voice a mere whisper on the wind. The earnest way he meets your gaze has a single tear spilling onto your cheek, and he’s quick to cup the side of your face tenderly in his palm. “I won’t lie to you. I desire you. I have desired you since the very first moment I laid my eyes upon you. Whether those desires of mine are met or not, I do not care. All I care about is the fact that you allow me to share in your presence with you, even if I do not deserve it.”
“Jongho,” you find you cannot form the words you want to say, feeling your heart leap into your throat as his confession.
He wipes away your tear.
“I understand you’ve been hurt in the past,” he breathes, and you can feel the way he still trembles the slightest bit against you. “Know that I will never hurt you. I will never make you feel unwanted, undesired, unloved. I cannot. I will not. It is not in my nature to deceive you like that.”
Both of his hands come up to cup your face, meeting your gaze tenderly. His eyes shine with a sincerity, with a passion you’re starting to understand. You can feel it in his touch. You can see it in his gaze. More than all of that, you can hear it in his words.
“This is my promise to you.” He stares deeply into your eyes, his own flashing as a sacred magic begins to flow between the both of you at his words. “I swear I will never betray you. I will never deceive you, nor will I ever use you. I will protect you until my dying breath, because with everything that I am, I am in love with you. Everything that I do, I do it for you.”
Your lips part, and you cannot help but raise your own hands to grasp lightly at his wrists.
“And if-“ he closes his eyes, as if the words he is about to utter pain him far more than any physical wound ever could, “if you truly ever want nothing to do with me, or you decide that you do not want me, I will respect your wishes, and honour your decision.”
Your hands tighten their grip subconsciously around his wrists, the tips of your fingers tingling as the magic flows through you both.
“Until the end of time, this is my promise to you. One which I have every intention to keep.” His grip becomes the slightest bit firmer over your skin as his eyes flash the deepest gold you’ve ever seen from him. 
“I swear upon my life, and the life of all of my forefathers before me, that all I care about,” he swallows thickly, “all I will ever care about,” Jongho meets your gaze one final time, and you swear you can feel his pulse beating right alongside your own.
You hold your breath.
“Is you.”
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yuurei20 · 2 years
Text
Twisted Wonderland: the Novel. Ace Apologizes.
After a difficult first day of school Yuuya is awoken by Ace, who is asking to spend the night after stealing a tart at Heartslabyul.
Important note: just moments earlier Yuuya tells Ace that if he apologizes from the heart, Riddle will forgive him for stealing.
--
“‘I’ll let you stay, so you’re gonna have to pay me in ten cans of tuna.’
‘Okay, we have a deal.’
‘A friend~!’ The Ramshackle ghosts dart through a wall and into the room, flying about in delight.
‘So much life in Ramshackle Dorm! I never thought I'd see the day.’
‘Shut it! Stop appearin’ outta no where like that!’
Grim bats at the air as if warding off insects; his usual chasing of the ghosts has begun.
Watching the spirited interactions between Grim and the ghosts from a slight distance, Yuuya hears a conversational ‘Hey’ from Ace, to catch his attention.
Yuuya looks over with a start only to find Ace already facing him, his features distorted into a difficult expression.
‘Oh, sorry—what is it, Ace-kun?’
‘Are you still mad at me?’
‘Eh?’ Yuuya blinks. ‘What do you mean?’
‘You know. For before. Come on, in front of the Great Seven statues, when we met for the first time.’
Yuuya’s heart skips a beat. He remembers, but he has been trying so hard to forget.
Trying to forget how Ace deceived them by approaching in such a friendly manner. How his hopes had been crushed by Ace’s mockery. How Ace had looked at him and said, ‘So boring.’ His cruel laughter. 
Yuuya does not know what to say. It is not that he is angry. But he is afraid. He has no idea how to interact with someone who is this straightforward.
What can Ace be plotting by asking a question like that, at a time like this? Yuuya steals a glance at Ace’s downcast face, but he wears no expression. No matter how he turns the question over in his mind, Yuuya cannot think of how he is meant to answer.
But if he doesn’t respond fast enough, Ace will probably get confused and follow up with ‘Why can’t you just let it go?’
It is hard to tell what Ace himself thinks as he watches Yuuya’s silent panic. Ace looks down at his feet and coughs.
‘I was wrong.’
‘What?’ Yuuya asks again; Ace has spoken so gently that Yuuya does not believe he has heard what he thinks he’s heard. 
‘Oh, come on.’ Ace sharply raises his eyes. ‘I’m saying, I was wrong. I might have said some horrible things to you because I didn’t know your situation. All I heard was there was someone in the school who doesn’t even have any magic, so I thought you’d forced your way in or something, while the rest of us all had to get in on our own merit. I thought it wasn’t fair, so I got a little pissed off.’
The words leave Ace in a rush, fast and awkward, and then he hangs his head. ‘I’m sorry.’
Then Ace lifts his head again just slightly, giving Yuuya a glance.
‘…if you apologize then you get forgiven, right?’
It is such a clever move that Yuuya cannot help but laugh. 
‘Yeah. It’s ok. I mean, I’m not actually mad. Not even a little.’
Ace’s words had been malicious and cruel, but he wasn’t wrong. That’s what had been so terrifying. But now, Yuuya realizes that Ace had just been acting overly defensive towards a boy his own age. 
Looking back, hasn’t Ace been expressing concern for him, too? Even just this morning, but Yuuya had suspected him of some hidden agenda and gotten so nervous—Yuuya feels bad about it now. What must Ace have thought of him, seeing him so frightened?
As he reflects, Yuuya realizes that there is something important that he has failed to do as well.
‘I wanted to say, too—thank you for saving me yesterday.’
Now it is Yuuya who lowers his head. He has not been able to thank Ace properly for saving him in the nick of time from that monster. 
‘If it weren’t for you, Ace-kun, I don’t think I’d even be here right now.’
‘This isn’t some academy for spoiled rich kids, you know—just Ace is fine.’
‘…Ace. Thank you.’
Ace smiles and raises his head, and his cheeks look a little flushed. Much different from his usual airs, he seems almost childlike.
’So we’re square, and I am guilt-free about staying here tonight.’
‘Hey!’ Grim holds up a pillow given to him by the ghosts, pressing it against Ace with both paws.
‘Just tellin’ you now, every room except the one where we sleep is buried in dust, so you’re findin’ your own space on your own.’ 
‘That’s the kind of attitude you take with visitors? Why don’t you just give up your space? Yuu is different, but you can sleep anywhere.’
‘Nah, I’m a genius--can’t sleep anywhere but in a bed.’
‘Liar! You slept like a baby through our whole potions class today.’
‘On your first day at school!?’ The ghosts angrily exclaim at Grim, and the lounge of Ramshackle Dorm grows lively once again. Ace’s cheerful personality brightens the whole atmosphere. It is like his depression of mere moments ago never actually happened: it is as clouds have parted, and Yuuya finds himself laughing.
Nothing that happens to him ever seems to make sense, but it may be that he is moving forward—just a little bit. If that’s the case, he might be able to get through tomorrow, too.
When Yuuya goes back to sleep, it is with a comfortably warm feeling."
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mxlfoydraco · 2 years
Note
hey! pretty new to the fandom and I’m looking for some specific fic that I cannot find through the tags on ao3. so I’m hoping you would be the place to ask, if not no worries <3 so I’m looking for drarry fic where they are at least 30 years old. like that's it, I just really love when they're older and find each other. if you happen to to know any good ones id love to hear. hope you have a good day!
I think they are 30 and/or over 30 in these but also the cut off can be iffy so be nice to me and nod along if there's a late 20s or sth in the mix
Make Me a Headline (I Want to Be That Bold) by @dictacontrion (31k)
Draco never expected to see Harry doing that again. Especially with someone else, in a grainy photograph that's landed on his desk one Monday morning.
Pocket Full of Starlights (Never Let It Fade Away) by @femmequixotic and @noeeon (46k)
When Scorpius Malfoy and Jamie Potter meet at Quidditch camp, they take an instant dislike to each other. Then they discover their lives are more connected than they could possibly imagine. 
A Private Reason for This by @femmequixotic (92k)
When the wife of a star politician in the Scottish Ministry turns up dead just outside Hogsmeade, Draco Malfoy and his murder investigation team are called in from the Edinburgh Auror force to find her killer. What DCI Malfoy doesn't expect, however, is to have an ex from two decades past end up in his murder room, endangering not only his case, but also his heart.
The One You Feed by @sweet-s0rr0w (10k)
Draco's been a werewolf for almost twenty years now, and he's an expert in helping new werewolves adapt to the change. He's seen it all before - or so he thinks, until his newest client, a recently turned Harry Potter, arrives on his doorstep.
Paper Rings by @lettersbyelise (50k)
When Harry’s in need of a divorce lawyer, he has no choice but to turn to the best in the trade. Draco Malfoy’s reputation for discretion is flawless, and his track record for winning cases is close to perfect. But he’s also ruthless, passionate, and as infuriating as ever, and the brief relationship he and Harry had in Eighth Year still feels painfully fresh despite two decades spent apart. What Harry and Draco used to be is all in the past. And surely they can work together in these new, emotionally charged circumstances without falling in love all over again… can’t they?
Number Seven by sara_holmes (253k)
Harry already has small children, an ex-wife, annoying colleagues and an international crime ring to deal with. So when Draco Malfoy reappears after eight years AWOL in France, of course Harry is going to leave him well alone… Right?
Turn by Saras_Girl (306k)
One good turn always deserves another. Apparently.
Blood and Fire by @lqtraintracks (44k)
Harry has spent the last twelve years in Romania, not returning to England as often as he knows he should. It's complicated. But when Ginny asks him to be her best man and help her plan her wedding, he can't say no. Having a reckoning with his choices, with himself, won't be easy. To say nothing of seeing Draco again.
All Life is Yours to Miss by Saras_Girl (114k)
Professor Malfoy’s world is contained, controlled, and as solitary as he can make it, but when an act of petty revenge goes horribly awry, he and his trusty six-legged friend are thrown into Hogwarts life at the deep end and must learn to live, love and let go.
Historians by @oknowkiss (29k)
It’s the Dumbledore’s Army Reunion Holiday, and Harry’s found himself in hot water with his friends once again, after telling them he has a boyfriend he definitely does not have. In an attempt to fix things, he’s made it his colleague on Level Nine, Draco Malfoy’s problem too. Featuring a ski chalet in Switzerland, a pair of bunk beds, and an agreement that should’ve been simple, were it not for all the bloody feelings getting in the way.
Take a Sad Song (And Make it Better) by @femmequixotic (48k)
The last thing Harry wants is to lose his kids.
Albus Getting Married by @violetclarity(6k)
Albus and Scorpius are getting married, and they’ve put Harry and Draco in charge of the reception. Which is fine with Harry. Really, it is. He’s not holding on to childhood grudges anymore...but he can’t stop thinking about that one kiss. And dating your son’s fiancé’s father is really, really not on.
The Wonder of You by @ladderofyears (72k)
A Family Man AU. In the year 2000, Harry left Draco behind in London, intent on America and Quidditch fame and never looked back. Thirteen years later, Harry gets the opportunity to see what his life could have been like, had his life unravelled in a different way. Nothing in Harry’s world is the same, but Harry soon comes to realise that fatherhood, marriage and the biggest, laziest Crup in Hogsmeade add to up a life he enjoys more than he could ever have imagined.
The Man Who Lived by @e-sebastian (253k)
Draco breaks a cup, and one thing leads to another. A story of redemption, tattoos, dreams, mistakes, green eyes, long conversations, and copious amounts of coffee.
Set in New York twelve years after the war.
Burn the Witch by @lettersbyelise (95k)
When Harry Potter is sent in to investigate Draco Malfoy’s successful potions company, posing as Draco’s bodyguard, he doesn’t know the case will launch a series of events that will change his life — and Draco’s.
A story about choices, scars, Chopin piano pieces, and finding all kinds of love in the most unexpected places.
Are You Mine? series by gracerene (91k)
A trilogy of fics set in an Epilogue-Compliant Harry Potter 'Verse, with various accompanying time-stamps and one-shots. Fics are in chronological order.
*They are first together younger and then get back together later
Shibboleths by @lol-zeitgeistic (109k)
Muggle Immersion co-Professor Harry Potter spends his days hanging with his son, reading to his “dog,” teaching magical kids about the internet with his cousin Dudley, and irritating Snape’s portrait. He’s understandably annoyed when his cosy life is interrupted by the Headmistress hiring on Draco Malfoy to be Hogwarts’ new Ancient Magical Cultures and Spellcasting professor. But then the explosion happens, and it turns out they’ll all need Malfoy’s knowledge if they want the magical world to survive. The one with the scary things and Professor Dudley.
when by now and tree by leaf by @aibidil (46k)
When Scorpius Malfoy is saying goodbye to his dying mother, he doesn't expect to hear her confess, "Your father slept with another man and became pregnant with you." Grappling with his grief and his identity, Scorpius sets out to discover his other father, who it turns out has a lighting-shaped scar and no idea that Scorpius exists.
When Times are Dire by @aibidil (130k)
Magical Britain is screwed, and it’s once again up to Harry to save it. This time, by marrying Draco Malfoy.
Father of the Bride by November Snowflake (29k)
Harry’s little girl is getting married, and the identity of her chosen suitor is about to open up a world of complications—for better and for worse.
Harry Potter and the Great Cat Caper by @kbrick (78k)
Harry's lonely in the aftermath of his divorce. Except for the weekends that he has the kids, Harry's cooking gourmet meals for one in his big, empty farmhouse, with only his seven cats for company. Until, that is, Harry finds Al and Lily playing with Scorpius Malfoy in the front yard, and learns that Draco Malfoy is his closest wizarding neighbor. Oh, and also, Harry's favorite cat is stolen (multiple times!) by someone who had the audacity to put a sparkly pink collar on her, with a nametag that reads "Plumeria Seraphin Snugglybug". These things (Malfoy and the cat-snatching) may or may not be related. Featuring: a cat-loving Harry who loves to cook, has playdates with Pansy Parkinson, and tends to rap when he's wasted, and good-dad Draco Malfoy who's still a prat, albeit an irritatingly attractive and charming one. Also featuring: a slew of adorable children, a stolen cat named Stormy, copious amounts of sexual tension, divorce betting pools, amoral yet charismatic Slytherins, peeping-tom Harry, foot massages given while under the influence, Harry's first time with a bloke, and did I mention cats?
More Than That by joosetta (10k)
This is a story about two 52 year old men who refuse to age gracefully.
Harry Potter and the elusive day off by @fuckyoupbk (71k)
Auror Potter needs a fucking break. He is wiped. He is exhausted. He probably didn't intend to put himself into a magical coma but these things happen. And who cares, really? He is comfortable in a house where he has hidden away all the shit he can't deal with. Guaritore Christopher Black is an exceptional psychiatrist with a specialisation in sleep disorders. He is also Draco Malfoy in a Glamour. Minister Hermione Granger knows the dangers and the complications, but she needs her best friend back.
And, On The Other Side, A Welcoming Voice by @blamebrampton (38k)
For twenty years, the official history has told readers that Harry Potter died at the Battle of Hogwarts. The next edition is going to require some significant revisions.
Shine, Even in the Darkness by @raitala (41k)
Harry hasn’t seen Draco for over fifteen years, but now he’s showing up everywhere and Harry is sort of weirdly attracted to him, but that can’t be right?
Across the Multiverse by @hsvh-hp (108k)
Thirteen years after the war, Draco Malfoy is quite happily tucked away in the Department of Mysteries as an Unspeakable. When an Auror disappears through a broken Vanishing Cabinet, it presents the perfect opportunity for Draco's research to finally graduate beyond theory. Unfortunately, Harry Potter will also be along for the ride.
I Do Not Love You by Writ_and_romance (228k)
In 2013, a carefully-designed Obliviation leaves Harry reconfiguring his life and identity without any memories of true love; an act that’s essentially erased Draco Malfoy from his mind despite a wedding band and shared home. In 2000, Draco had expected Pansy’s relationship with Luna to bring the Gryffindors a bit closer to his orbit of quiet, carefully pacifistic existence, but he never expected to navigate such a transparent embrace into a unit of family, friendship, and love. A mystery, two love stories, and a reminder that learning to love never has an end date.
The Strongest Affinity by @eidheann (17k)
Trouble finding a wand for Scorpius leads Harry and Draco to something they never imagined. Career Choices: Harry: Wandmaker; Draco: Single Father/Hermit
The Beauty of Thestrals and Other Unseen Things by @writcraft (63k)
Harry has terrific friends, an amazing girlfriend and his job as Head Auror enables him to work on challenging cases and Ministry reform. He just wishes he could work out why he’s been so out of sorts. When Draco Malfoy is arrested for gross indecency, Harry’s comfortable life begins to unravel. He’s forced to decide if it’s worth risking everything for love in a world where following his heart is a criminal offence.
The Kisses Don’t Count, If No One Else Knows by oldenuf2nb (41k)
Minister for Magic Harry Potter does not love his job. The one bright point in his life is his secret relationship with Quidditch Super Star Draco Malfoy. When they're 'outed' by a peeping tom with a camera, Harry has to decide what's really important.
The Stars Have Courage by @fantalfart (85k)
Draco waited five long years to watch his husband wake up from a coma. He's not ready to meet a Harry with no memory of anything that happened after he died at The Battle of Hogwarts, twelve years ago.
Dwelling on Dreams by @the-sinking-ship (135k)
Draco thought he could avoid Potter for the duration of his brief return to England. He’d stick to his schedule and be back home in Paris, where he belonged, in a few short months. No trouble at all. He had plenty to occupy him, what with the opening of the London branch of his successful apothecary, his innovative research, drinks with Pansy, a backlog of unread potions periodicals. Except Head Auror Potter is everywhere — in Draco’s chair, at his door, in his dreams. All six feet of motorbike-riding, combat-boot-wearing, sex-hair-sporting Saviour of the World packed into one unfairly fetching uniform. Potter won’t leave Draco the bloody hell alone, won’t let him breathe, let him forget, let him sleep. Because no matter how fast Draco Malfoy runs, Harry Potter is always hot on his heels.
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girlactionfigure · 5 months
Text
🔅After Shabbat - ISRAEL REALTIME - Connecting to Israel in Realtime
Moadim l’Simcha - Happy Chol HaMoed Passover
🔻ATTACK on Shabbat - ROCKETS - from Hezbollah / Lebanon - at Shomera
🔻ATTACK on Shabbat - DRONES - from Hezbollah / Lebanon - at Beit Hillel, Kfar Giladi, Kfar Yuval, Metulla, Manara, Ma'ayan Baruch, Margaliot, Misgav Am, Kiryat Shmona, Tel Hai, Dishon, Iftach, Malkia, Mevuot Hermon Regional Council, Ramot Naftali 
🔻ATTACK on Shabbat - ROCKETS - from Hezbollah / Lebanon - at Manara, Margaliot, Kiryat Shmona x 2 rounds
❗️NATIONAL SECURITY MINISTER BEN GVIR.. in a serious car accident before Shabbat, his driver ran a red light (with siren on) - the car was t-boned and flipped as an oncoming car in the opposing right lane couldn’t see them after the car in the left lane stopped.  The minister, diagnosed with multiple rib fractures, was transferred from Asaf HaRofeh hospital to Hadassah Hospital in Jerusalem.
❗️HAMAS RELEASES ANOTHER HOSTAGE PROPAGANDA VIDEO.. of hostages Keith Siegel and Amri Midan.  (( We wonder if anyone will take this WAR CRIME, using prisoners as propaganda, to the International Court of Justice.  Oh who am I kidding. ))
❗️US DEPLOYS AIR WING TO SAUDI ARABIA.. A large number of F-16Cs of the US Air Force's 510th Fighter Squadron have been deployed to Prince Sultan Air Force Base in Saudi Arabia.
▪️IDF.. two paratrooper battalions, 101 and 890, rotated out of Gaza and into training for Rafah attack.
▪️GAZA.. Friday night extensive IDF airstrikes in Nusirat - the Air Force bombed terrorist targets in the north of Nusairat and al-Zawaida, residential buildings in al-Mugraqa were destroyed that were used by Hamas terrorists for activities against our forces, plus targeted airstrikes in west Rafah and south Khan Yunus.
On Shabbat morning, IDF naval bombardment into the Gaza City shoreline.
▪️JUDEA-SAMARIA.. Friday night, raid on Ibad, Jenin area.  Enemy fire at the Jenin Salem checkpoint, two terrorists eliminated in the firefight.  On Shabbat day, forces raided the Palestinian village of Kfar Ein, northwest of Ramallah.
▪️LEBANON.. IDF forces attacked a number of targets in a number of different locations in southern Lebanon, including the village of Markaba, the town of Khula, Yatar, and Sarabin.
▪️IRAQ.. The pro-Iranian militias in Iraq claimed last night that they attacked a "vital target" in Haifa with a suicide drone.  No such event recorded in Israel.
🟡 CEASEFIRE NEGOTIATIONS.. Israel submitted its proposal via the Egyptian mediators, Hamas “will consider it”.
.. US National Security Adviser Jake Sullivan: thinks there is new momentum in the talks on the release of the abductees
.. Opposition leader Yair Lapid in an interview on News 12: "If the choice is the cessation of fighting in Gaza or a hostage deal, we should go for a deal.” 
.. A senior security official to the Wall Street Journal: "The way to end the conflict with Hezbollah is to escalate it. Israel cannot stop now - it is dangerous for the entire region.”
▪️AID.. recent video from Gaza shows Gaza’s complaining about receiving Skittles that have expired (as of Feb).  (( This is hunger? ))
.. Reuters, for the first time since the death of seven workers of the aid organization World Central Kitchen - a humanitarian aid ship left the coast of Cyprus towards Gaza.  (( Propaganda, not effectiveness.  One of these ships is about 3 trucks of aid. ))
▪️HOUTHIS.. The spokesman for the military wing of the Houthis claims that they attacked a British oil tanker with missiles, and that yesterday they shot down an American MQ-9 Reaper drone.  US Central Command: The Houthis launched three anti-ship missiles from Yemen into the Red Sea and caused minor damage to the British ship MV Andromeda Star; a missile landed near another undamaged vessel.
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fabien-euskadi · 2 months
Note
White.
My dear M., I am sorry for taking so long to reply to your ask, but the summer heat is having a terrible effect on my cognitive capabilities. Since I could not give you a half-arsed reply, it took me a little longer to write this answer. I hope you can forgive me.
White: 3 facts about my personality
This is never an easy subject for me, but I am not going to turn my back on this challenge, am I?
FACT I: When I was seven, I witness an event that left me permanently traumatized. One of the major consequences of that summer morning is that my self-esteem simply does not exist, and my self-confidence is as low as the centre of the Earth; on the other hand, my levels of self-criticism are as high as the surface of the exosphere. This could become a serious problem as an adult, but, somehow, I forced myself to adapt to these handicaps by adopting a (rather simple) coping mechanism: when one’s self-love is, essentially, non-existent, there is nothing to fear – ever. That’s why my life is a collection of suicidal moves dressed up as bold decisions: I never had anything to lose, for all was lost in that July morning of a year gone by.
FACT II: It's a fact that I don't really like being alone, even if circumstances have forced me to. But, at least, is far more comfortable to be alone on my own than being alone among other people. Extreme loneliness seems to have become my ultimate fate - probably, the punishment for my sins decided by some god I do not pray to -, but I have learned to accept it stoically. Is it a fair destiny? Probably not. But the truth is that no one is ever truly alone - one always has its own ghosts, demons and pain as companions on this road we call life.
FACT III: Unlike most people, my brain can't cope well with routine. Having an organized and scheduled life feels like a complete nightmare to me. That doesn't mean that I am some sort of dysfunctional adult. It means that I have my own way of dealing with things, and the fact is that it works - even if, at first glance, I live in a state of semi-chaos where everything is random. I am going to use a metaphor to define myself: I am pretty much like my beloved ocean - you cannot possibly tame me, for I am to fluid for that; but you can always be 100 pc sure that we waves will hit the coast, no matter what.
Once again, thank you very much. And forgive me for the delay.
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