#Love it when Merry hugs Mourns shoulders

[coconut530]

Stephpotterdrawtober & 31 Days of Nevermore Day 11: Tongue & Houndstooth

Vane based off this one sketch by Innocentcinnamonbun:

[fluentmoviequoter]

A Place to Grieve

Pairing: Aragorn x fem!reader (Aragorn and Strider are used interchangeably)

Summary: After losing a loved one, Strider offers you a place to grieve. 1.5k+ words

Warnings: loss of unspecified loved one, angst, fluff, Sindarin, canon divergent, spoilers for The Fellowship of the Ring

A/N: I’ve never written for Strider before but I really want a hug from him, so this is completely self-indulgent. Honestly, this weekend has been pretty rough and I was really unmotivated to write until I started this. I hope it’s okay and if you have any feedback please leave a comment or drop it in my inbox!🤍

Photo from Pinterest

“… is gone.”

Aragorn only hears the end of Gandalf’s news, but his sad smile and comforting hand on your shoulder are more than enough to show it is bad news. You shake your head in a small motion, blinking quickly before whispering something and stepping back.

This is no time to mourn. No place to grieve.

Turning away from Gandalf, you lock eyes with Strider. Nodding, you silently tell him you are fine. However, Strider is a good friend and a better ranger. Lying to him is not only impossible, it is unwise.

Gandalf leads you and the hobbits at the front of the company, sending concerned looks your way whenever you near him. Frodo and Sam distract you with stories of The Shire, and though you try to let your mind drift, you can only think of the gnawing sense of loss rooting itself deep in your chest. Learning of your loss, it feels as though you have lost a piece of yourself, a portion of your soul ripped away with hidden mourning.

Behind you, Strider ignores Legolas as he watches you. Your distant expression and sorrow-filled gaze worry him.

“An inn!” Sam exclaims. “We wish to stop for the night, do we not?”

Gandalf sighs, smiling as he gestures toward the city. Sam, Frodo, Merry, and Pippin waste no time as they race toward the first sign of civilisation in countless miles. Legolas taps your shoulder kindly as he steps around you. After he falls into step with Gandalf, you take a shaky breath and close your eyes tightly, burying your rising emotions. Strider’s hand meets your arm, gently tugging you toward him. You look toward him but not at him, concerned you may fall apart if he asks what plagues your mind. Shaking your head, you pull away from him and follow Gandalf.

“Mell nîn,” Strider mutters under his breath. “Your heart calls out yet your mind silences it.”

Knowing that he is not always a good communicator, yet unwilling to risk losing your camaraderie and closeness, Strider often talks to you when you do not hear. Tonight, sensing the sadness deep in your being, he craves your words more than ever.

✨🗡️✨🗡️✨

Your breaths grow shallow and your eyes glassy before you stand, jostling your chair as you rush out of the dark pub. Strider follows you immediately, ignoring Gandalf’s soft laugh and guarantee that Strider can handle it. Gandalf knows that the hobbits and Legolas have grown attached to you; he has as well, but he is also the only one to notice your unique relationship with the ranger and rightful king of Gondor.

Strider says your name as he moves before you, raising a hand to stop you. You obey, halting as you wipe your freshly fallen tears off your cheeks.

Wishing to speak, comfort you, and welcome your words, Strider attempts to talk but falls speechless at the brokenness hiding behind your eyes, being slowly revealed as your tears continue.

“Excuse me,” you whisper, continuing around Strider.

He repeats your name, stopping you again. “I am sorry.”

“Why do you apologise?”

“Whatever news you have received ails you.”

Tightening your jaw, you move away from Strider again. Talking about it makes it real, solidifies it within your mind and heart and makes it impossible to hold yourself together.

“Please do not make me use force to comfort you, meleth nîn,” Strider pleads.

“You have no rule here, my king. There is nothing you can do to make me answer your questions,” you point out angrily.

“Then do as you are, take your anger out upon me, but do not run from me in your flee from feeling,” Strider answers, a mix of care and exasperation in his words.

The tears increase in both number as intensity as you lower your head. Releasing the first sob, you reach out for Strider, surprised when he pulls you into his embrace. His cloak grows damp under your cheek, his hand cradling your head to his chest.

“There is no shame in responding in this way, in being who you are,” Strider comforts quietly.

You don’t notice Strider move, but when you raise your head again, you find you are tucked between buildings. The dark corner provides the privacy you need to be honest with Strider.

Repeating Gandalf’s news, you tell Strider that someone you love is gone. His slow exhale accompanying his kind arms circling you makes you feel safe enough to accept it.

“I am sorry, mell nîn. Your loss will be felt through the miles and the centuries, I am sure.”

“This is no time to grieve,” you tell him. Hearing your thoughts aloud makes them seem inappropriate; as if someone so special is unworthy of your tears.

“I know what you mean,” Strider says, interrupting your thoughts. “This is a trying time and the company has a long journey ahead of us, but there is no good place, no good time to grieve.”

“Right here is acceptable,” you whisper, looking up at Strider.

His gaze drops, his arms still holding you against his chest. Though his words are few, they are never without meaning. The sudden silence during such a moment alerts you to your mistake.

“My apologies, my king,” you mutter, attempting to pull back.

“Then here you will grieve, will mourn, whenever you need,” Strider insists, refusing to let you retreat into yourself once more.

“But, my king-“

“I am no king,” Strider begins.

“Not yet,” you interject.

He smiles down at you, and the world seems to brighten. “But what kind of king would I be to deny a lady a shoulder on which to cry? To rest as she travels, as she experiences gains and losses with no other consistent place to rest?”

“You have responsibilities, as do I. And neither provide time for sadness. The grief will come later.”

“Your grief is not to be set aside. You are not a burden to our company, if that is your concern. Feeling nothing is not an option, meleth nîn.”

You nod, leaning closer to Strider.

“Thank you.”

“Mell,” Strider repeats quietly.

✨🗡️✨🗡️✨

It hits when it is darkest, a deep ache with no evident relief. Moving through the darkness, you approach Strider’s side, his watchful eyes gazing into the night.

“Strider?” you ask quietly.

He wordlessly opens his arms toward you, allowing you to rest against his shoulder as his cloak closes around you.

“Does it stop hurting?”

“Slowly. Soon the memories will be a welcomed kindness. A reminder of good times rather than an amplifier of the bad," he replies.

Nodding, Strider’s comfort, warmth, and kindness lull you to sleep. You wake tucked against his side and well-rested.

✨🗡️✨🗡️✨

After a week of sleeping at Strider’s side, you are not as sad as often as before. The emptiness has made way for early acceptance, though some moments still seem hopeless and void of all happiness. Your life will never be the same following the loss of another’s life, but you must continue living rather than stall in the moments of memories.

“Why are you so kind to me?” you ask Strider as he leads you to his guarding position.

“You are good. Everyone good deserves kindness,” Strider replies simply.

“The way in which you treat me differs from your actions toward Gandalf and the hobbits.”

“They do not hold a piece of nin hûr.”

Strider’s eyes are on you in the dim forest light.

“Why do you do that; speak in Sindarin, when you know I do not understand?”

Strider’s hands rise to pull you close, his fingers ghosting over your jaw.

“Because words are not easy for me. You mean more to me than words can express,” Strider admits quietly, his voice soft against the rustling leaves.

“Your hûr?”

“My heart.”

“Mell nín?”

“You.”

“So you have said,” you reply with a kind laugh. “But what am I to you?”

“My dear,” Strider says, dipping his head to kiss your forehead. “My beloved, my sweet.”

Smiling up at Strider, you repeat, “You hold my entire hûr, my king.”

“Ara.” At your confused hum, Strider smiles and translates, “King.”

“Aragorn,” you say, pulling yourself closer to him.

“Rían nîn,” he replies. “My queen.”

“Me?” Strider nods, pressing his head against your neck as your arms loop over his shoulders. “That is why you are so kind to me.”

“I have wished to love you since you joined the company. Since you joined my side.”

“What should I call you?”

“Call me whatever you wish, as long as I am yours.”

Moving your head to Strider’s shoulder, you return home.

“Thank you for allowing me to grieve. For welcoming me, my brokenness.”

“You are not broken,” Strider insists, standing as he cups your cheeks in his strong hands. “Your dark nights, your grief and mourning, do not define you. Your love, kindness, and joy with your friends do.”

“My heart, my love, my joy are yours.”

Strider falls silent again, pulling you against him as his lips meet yours in the dark forest. Though you miss those you have lost, Strider holds you close and leads you through the dark and the light of mourning.

[eirikaanemo]

Heavy Is The Crown

Warnings: None

Venti x GN!Minstrel!Reader

3.1k Words

Venti's a servant boy at the palace that you fall in love with... right?

You’re the apprentice of the renowned Minstrel Chapman of the Riverside Performers Company. And recently your company was invited to go perform at the palace for the royal family of Mondstadt. It’s understandable really, they probably need some joy and relaxation in their lives considering the difficult war that is waging on. Of course, you’re one of the few to see it that way.

“People are dying on the battlefield every day, and the King and Queen want to make merry?” Archibald scoffed. “Peace, Archibald,” Grisela soothed. “This war is difficult for them as well.” Archibald scoffed again but chose not to respond further. These sorts of discussions were common now-a-days, and a gap of misunderstanding and hurt is starting to grow between the rulers and their people.

This really concerned you because you’d once known the son of a Baron and he had explained these sorts of difficulties to you. Your goal was to try and help bridge the gap. Since Master Chapman has charged you to write a song yourself for the royal performance, you have decided to write a song that could help with that. But the problem is that you have no idea what to write! And you’re running out of time.

When your company reaches the palace the next day, you are no closer to having written the song than you were before. Thankfully you all had arrived at the palace a couple days early, so you still had some time to come up with your song. However, you were feeling so nervous that you couldn’t even focus on trying to compose it at all.

So you decided to take a break and wander around the palace grounds, as you and your company had been invited to do when you arrived. As you did so, admiring the beautiful flowers and bushes of the garden, you ended up running into someone. Literally as in one moment you were standing up, and the next you were sitting on the ground clutching your head.

“Sorry! I’m so sorry,” someone apologized to you. “I should’ve been better about looking where I was going. Are you okay?” Peeking up, you see a servant boy with black hair in braids with teal tips and a flower tucked behind his ear. “Yes, I’m fine,” you assure him. “A little stunned, but I’ll be alright in a minute.”

“Are you sure?” He asks worriedly. When you nod he breathes a sigh of relief. “That’s good to hear, Head Maid Maribel would have my head if I hurt a guest.” You smile and laugh a little. “Well we can’t have that,” you tease. “I’m sure you look much nicer when you have your head on your shoulders.” He stills for a moment from his fiddling from a moment before, a blush spreading from his cheeks to his ears.

Spluttering some, he manages to squeak out, “Oh, um, thanks?” You look at him oddly. “Don’t tell me no one’s ever teased you like that before,” you say. “I, um, won’t tell you then.” He jokes, calming down some. You smile some and give him a wink, “Well, I’m honored to be the first then.”

“Oh!” He exclaims. “I need to be pruning some bushes right now.” Your smile drops a bit, you’d been hoping to spend some more time with him. Noticing that, he adds on, “Would you like to come along? We could talk more while I prune.” You easily agree, “I’d like that very much, thank you.”

More confident now that he had something to focus on, he continued to make small talk with you. You introduce yourself and the two of you get to know each other better; he is ecstatic to know that you’re a minstrel and play the lyre. “I’m learning to play the lyre too!” He declares. “Maybe you could teach me a thing or two.” You smile at him, happy to know that you have that in common.

“I would like that! But,” you admit, “unfortunately, I’m afraid I don’t have the time right now. My master has told me to write a song and I’m struggling to get it out. With the war going on, I want to write a song to help bridge the gap between the royals and the commoners. From my experiences with the son of a Baron I knew, this war is just as hard for them as it is for us.”

He pauses from snipping away at the bush he’s working on. “You know, I’m glad you see it that way,” he tells you with an oddly grateful look in his eyes. “My p- Their majesties have really been struggling recently, especially with the loss of support from the people. For all the life of nobility looks wonderful, it comes at a cost. You lose freedom, always have to put others before yourself, can’t show any weakness, and bear the weight of every death on your shoulders.”

The odd phrasing and sudden correction go straight over your head as your muse suddenly rears its head. “I think I’ve got it now,” you blurt out. He blinks and tilts his head, confused. “Well I’m not sure what I did or said to help,” he replies, “but I’m glad I could help.”

You give him a big hug. “Really, you helped a lot,” you admit. “I need to go get started composing! But, uh, do you think I could see you again later?” He returns the hug. “Sure thing,” he murmurs in your ear. “I should be out here for the rest of today and all of tomorrow, but you’ll need to find me.”

“I think I can do that,” you murmur back and pull away from the hug. “See you tomorrow,” you call out to him as you start heading back to your Company. He watches you until you’re out of sight, before he goes back to pruning. “Well, that was fun,” he cheerfully tells himself. “I hope they do come back tomorrow. It’s not everyday I get to talk to someone like that.”

Composing the song was child’s play once you pick your lyre back up and get to work. The boy’s words repeat over and over in your head as you plan out lyrics and try different tunes. Master Chapman was thrilled when you played your song for him and assured you that the royals would love it. “It’s a wonderful tribute to all they do for us. And it helps us understand them and makes them more relatable to us,” he confirms. “I’m sure it will help you achieve your goal of helping bridge the gap between commoners and royals.”

When you find the boy the next day, you’re nearly vibrating in excitement. “Hey you,” you call. “Guess what?” His head turns to see you mid-snip and the branch lands on his head. You run over to make sure he’s okay. “Are you alright?” You ask him. “Yeah,” he responds sheepishly. “I guess this time it’s you who has to worry about getting me hurt.”

“Well that’s good,” you state, pouting at his teasing. “Oh! I realized yesterday that I don’t know your name!” He rubs the back of his head, embarrassed. “Ehe, sorry, I can’t believe I forgot to introduce myself. I’m Venti, it’s nice to officially meet you!”

“That’s a wonderful name,” you reply. “I like it a lot.” He smiles wide, “Thanks!” As the day continues you continue to talk with each other. Eventually he ropes you in to helping him with his chores. Thanks to that he gets done early and, after reporting back about finishing, he’s able to just spend the rest of the day with you.

After a certain point you’re able to admit to yourself that you’re falling for him. He’s cute, free-spirited, and makes you laugh. And maybe it’s just your imagination, but he seems to enjoy your time together too. The days left leading up to the performance are spent practicing and spending time with him. He’s tried to get you to play the song for him, but you insist that he wait for the performance to see.

The day of the performance comes very quickly, too quickly in your opinion. For all the compliments everyone who has heard your song gives you, and all the minds it has changed, you’re still incredibly nervous to perform it. What if they don’t like it? Will they find it presumptuous for you to write such a thing? When the time comes, will you mess up?

But the moment it’s your turn you take a deep breath, remind yourself that this is what you’re training for, and take your place on stage. Looking at the audience, you see the King and Queen, but, oddly enough, Prince Barbatos did not seem to be present. You strum your lyre and introduce yourself and your song. The audience seems intrigued that you would write such a song, so you take courage and start singing.

The stars are very beautiful, above the palace walls,

They shine with equal splendour, still above far humbler halls.

I watch them from my window, but their bright entrancing glow,

Reminds me of the freedom I gave up so long ago.

Although I am the head of state, in truth I am the least,

The true royal knows their people fed, before they sit to feast.

The good royal knows their people safe, before they takes their rest,

Thinks twice and thrice and yet again, before they make request.

These tears that burn my eyes are all the tears a royal can't shed,

The tears I weep in silence as I mourn my soldiers dead.

Oh gods that dwell beyond the stars, if you can hear my cry—

And if you have compassion—let me send no more to die!

(See: The Cost of the Crown by Mercedes Lackey, Debra F. Sanders)

As the last note fades the crowd stands with roaring applause. You feel a warmth spread across your cheeks as you bow deeply and return to your place standing with your company. Those standing around you congratulate you quietly as the next member steps up to perform.

Soon the performance is over and your Company is preparing to leave. Surprisingly many members of the Company had changed their minds about royals and the Company Head, Ferdinand, approached you to pass on the gratitude and appreciation from the King and Queen themselves. Venti showed up one last time, and Master Chapman allowed you to go speak with him as a treat for a job well done.

“That was amazing!” Venti shouts. “Did I really help you write that? I was hiding behind some curtains to listen and it was so amazing that I cried.” He grins so bright that you almost have to close your eyes. “I’m glad you liked it!” You say as you smile back. His happiness was contagious, and it didn’t help that you were completely smitten with him at this point. But alas, it was not meant to be.

Master Chapman called your name, letting you know that the Company would be leaving soon and that you’d have to come back within the next minute or two if you didn’t want to be left behind. Venti’s smile dims. “Are you sure you can’t stay?” He inquires. “Yes,” you sigh. “But who knows? Maybe I’ll see you again some day. But until then…” You trail off. He looks at you curiously, tilting his head again. Quickly, so as to not chicken out, you peck his check and run back to the Company.

“Until then!” You call out to him. The Company leaves as soon as you get there, so you’re not able to look back to see him. But if you could have, you would have seen him blushing as red as a rose, with a hand on his cheek where you kissed him. “Until then,” he whispers quietly. “I’ll make sure I’ll see you again.”

---

Years pass, and your apprenticeship ends. You make quite the name for yourself, and your song has worked wonders to heal the relationship between the people and their rules. Of course you write many more songs, but your first is always your favorite. Because he helped you write it. Many people have asked to court you, but you have turned them all down. Even after all these years, Venti the servant boy still holds your heart.

One day a messenger comes to speak with Ferdinand, bringing both good and bad news. Ferdinand calls the whole company together to share it. “Good friends, I’m sad to say that the King has passed away.” He announces, and the Company breaks into whispers and conversation. You think you may have even seen Gwenivere crying. “However, we have been invited to perform at Prince Barbatos’ coronation!”

This was wonderful news! Perhaps you could take this chance to see Venti again! You’d missed him dearly. But the more you thought about it, the more worried you became. Maybe he’d moved on and married someone else already. Would he still remember you? Will he want anything to do with you now? What if you didn’t like you and is upset about the kiss you gave him before you left?

You shake those thoughts out of your head and take a deep breath to calm yourself. Then you feel a hand clamp down on your shoulder and you must’ve jumped several feet in the air in your surprise because the person behind you burst into laughter. Embarrassed, you turn around to see Ferdinand, now laughing so hard that he was having trouble standing up.

“Yeah, yeah,” you grumble at him, good naturedly. “I’m sure startling me was very funny.” Finally calming down, Ferdinand gave you a great big smile. “It most certainly was,” he assured you. “But I didn’t come to you with the intention to startle you.” You raise an eyebrow as you continues. “I wanted to let you know that you were actually mentioned by name, so you may want to prepare something special.

Your jaw dropped. It wasn’t exactly uncommon for someone to be specifically named, but this was from the Prince himself! Still stunned, you nodded. “I’ll write the best song I can,” you promised him. “I’m sure you will,” he replied confidently. He didn’t stay long after that, just letting you know the basics of when the Company would be leaving and how soon the coronation would be.

As you travel you do your best to compose a song. However, you soon find yourself stuck. Your muse is gone again, just like it was the last time you went to the palace. Oh well, perhaps Venti could help you again. It would be wonderful to spend more time with him anyway, so you don’t worry too much about it.

The Company reaches the palace after a week of travel. You look for Venti in the gardens all day, but can’t find him anywhere. ‘Perhaps he got moved to working in the castle?’ You wonder to yourself. But either way, that meant he wouldn’t be able to help you write your song. So you sat down that night and did your best to compose.

It wasn’t really working, but you did your best. The next morning was chaotic, as the Company had been informed that the Prince himself would be coming out to welcome you all. You hurriedly joined in making the company camp look presentable and changed into your best clothing before going out to stand with everyone else.

The Prince was announced before the palace doors opened to reveal… Venti. Your eyes went wide and your jaw must have dropped to the ground. Those who were in the company before very carefully didn’t turn to look at you, though the newbies couldn’t help but look at you, confused. You quickly composed yourself as he scanned the crowd, though the smiles of some of his guards told you that your reaction did not go unnoticed.

It was very much him. The same dark hair with teal tipped braids. His eyes brightened as they met yours. He strode forward and the crowd parted before him. You were about to move as well until he stopped before you, fell to one knee, took one of your hands, and gently kissed it. Your face warmed again in a way that it hadn’t since you last saw him.

His eyes sparkled with mirth as he saw the look on your face. “Hello again,” he said gently. “Hi,” you squeaked. “It’s, uh, it’s good to see you again?” He laughed, “It’s good to see you again too. I know I kept my status a secret before, and I’m sorry I didn’t tell you the truth then, but could I ask you a question?”

“O-of course,” you respond. He smiles charmingly. “Will you marry me?” That’s it. You must’ve died and gone to heaven. Or maybe someone had put something in your breakfast. Or maybe he had the wrong person. You looked side to side to see if there was anyone else he could be talking to before you point to yourself. “M-me?” You ask, hesitantly. “You,” he says confidently. “I fell in love with you all those years ago, and I could never imagine myself with someone else.

“Though I would understand if you’re with someone else. It’s been so long and you’re so wonderful that you must have received many invitations to courtship.” A shy smile spreads across your face. “I have received many offers,” you admit, and his face falls a bit. “But I’ve turned them all down. My heart was taken years ago by my dear Venti the servant boy.”

You get down on your knees and kiss the hand that is holding yours. “I would love to marry you, if you’ll have me.” He smiles brighter than the sun. “Nothing would make me happier,” he declares, and he pulls you in for a kiss. You pull away for air and nuzzle your nose against his. “I do have one request though,” you continue. “Anything, my love,” he swears. “Court me properly first, please,” you request.

“I can do that,” he laughs as he pulls you in for a hug. “How about we start with having lunch together,” he whispers in your ear. “That sounds like a great plan,” you agree. He gives you another quick kiss before standing up, pulling you to your feet, and leading you back to the palace.

You ignore the whistles and applause of your Company as you follow him, grateful for their support but wanting to give your suitor all your attention. This was the first day of the rest of your life, and you wanted to appreciate every minute of it. And every minute was just as wonderful as you’d ever imagined.

As queen, you were able to bring the kingdom together and closer than ever before. The people loved their rulers because they knew their rulers dedicated themselves to them. And the rulers responded in kind. The war ended, peace prevailed, and you got your perfect happily ever after.

[fangirlovestuff]

A Perfect Tree - Jake Jensen x reader

a/n - hey lovely people!! sorry this is soooo incredibly late, this is for @donutloverxo​, @stargazingfangirl18​ and @navybrat817​‘s Hoelidays challenge and it’s new years eve... (happy new years btw!!) i hope you still enjoy this fluffy one, i’m really glad i got to write something for jake because i love him:)

Summary: You meet Jake when he comes into the coffe shop you work in to get himself a drink, and you’re immediately curious.

Prompts: Coffee Shop AU & Decorating the Christmas tree

Word Count: 1.6k

Warnings: a few curse words, maybe implied age gap but reader is in her early twenties and jake is in his late twenties, so not that extreme

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You were a student, so working afternoons at a coffee shop was the most reasonable way to make the money you desperately needed to get you through college. Right now, it was a hot spring day, so there weren't any people in the shop, which gave you a great opportunity to have a little unplanned break to stare at your phone and turn your brain off for a few moments, something you rarely had time to do.

However, after a few minutes the bell above the door rang, announcing the arrival of a customer. You sighed internally, mourning your short-lived break before lifting your eyes to greet the customer.

All of your dismay faded once you got a good look at him, and only one thought remained – fuck. He's so cute.

His broad frame was making his way towards the counter, and he was looking at his phone as well, not lifting his eyes until he got just in front of you, and of fucking course he had the most stunning blue eyes you had ever seen. You swallowed heavily.

"Hello, what can I help you with?" you said in your best customer-service voice, letting out an internal sigh of relief that you didn't fumble over your words.

"Um, I'd like…" he said, his eyes scanning the menu he picked up from the counter, "an espresso please. Long." He lifted his eyes from the menu and maybe it was just you, but you thought you saw his eyes scan your face for a brief second. He smiled at you expectantly.

"Uh, sure thing. That'll be… five thirty. Anything else?"

"No, just the coffee," he smiled again.

"Alright. And your name please sir?"

"Jake."

"Okay then Jake," you smiled and lifted your eyes up to meet his gaze after you were done typing away the order, "you can just grab a seat, I'll call on you when it's ready."

"Perfect," he nodded, before sitting down at one of the further tables.

Once sat down, you could release the breath you didn't know you were holding. Get a grip, you thought at yourself before moving to make his order. But you couldn't resist sneaking a peek at Jake from the corner of your eye every few moments.

He was hunched slightly over the table, typing away on a laptop he somehow already managed to turn on. His gaze was focused, concentrated, which allowed you all the gaping time you wished. You noticed the way his taut muscles stretched with every movement of his arms, his tight t-shirt looking like it was about to rip apart. You noticed the way he licked his lips in concentration, the motion seemingly automatic. You noticed his brows furrowing as his eyes scan-

Shit, you nearly spilled his coffee!

You hastily righted the cup and came to the counter to hand it to him.

"A long espresso for Jake?" you called out with a slight smile.

His head shot up and he got up to get his coffee and pay. As he passed you the money, his hand grazed against yours. It was warm, and you thought he left it in place just a bit longer than he needed to, but maybe that was just wishful thinking.

"Thank you," he said, a sincere smile on his face. You just nodded at him, and before you could think of anything of value to say he was already walking back to his table, sitting down and sipping his hot coffee with caution.

He sat there for a little bit longer, typing on his computer and drinking. You thought he looked a little worn out, tired, but you were probably just projecting. You huffed out a breath and went back to work.

When he left, he just nodded your way with a smile and you nodded back, giving him a small wave as he left. Oh god, a wave? Really? God, you're pathetic.

That was the first time you met Jake. As time went by, he would often come into the coffee shop to work, or at least that's what he seemed to be doing on the computer. Sometimes he came in looking extra tired, and a few times even with a bandage or a scratch, but you never asked his why. After all, that was never your business.

You learned more things about him, in short conversations over the counter as he waited for his drink. You learned his last name was Jensen. He told you he was a technician, but something about the glint in his eye as he said that told you that wasn't probably the entire truth. Nevertheless, you never asked, not wanting to be rude or cross any boundaries.

Jake had the tendency to disappear sometimes. There were weeks he'd come in nearly every day, and then two weeks went but when he didn't show up at all. It raised your suspicion, but obviously you didn't do anything about it. Hell, you didn’t even know what you were suspecting him in.

One day, he came to the coffee shop earlier than he usually did, at an hour he was the only one in the shop besides… well, you.

He ordered his usual and sat down at his table. You turned your back on him to clean up the machine behind you when you heard him call your name.

"Is there a problem?" you asked, confused.

He got up and walked towards you, holding something in his hand.

"I'm afraid I have to return this napkin," he handed it to you with a smile.

You frowned, "What's wrong wi- oh," you smiled upon unfolding it. He wrote down his phone number, with a little 'xo' at the end. "Oh, now I see what's wrong with it. I'll go get you a new one," you said.

You grabbed a napkin and scribbled your number down on it. "Is this one better?" you asked with a smile, handing it to him.

"Much better," he smiled, his hand purposely hanging onto yours for longer than necessary when grabbing it. "Thank you," he winked and turned to leave.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You and Jake have been dating for almost a year now, and this was the first Christmas you were spending together.

"No, Jake- gimmie that!" you laughed as he kept the sparkling orbs high above his head and out of your reach.

"Not until you apologize," he tutted with a smile.

You rolled your eyes and sighed. "Fine. I'm sorry I called you a grinch," you drew out. "I only did it because you were being one. Now can we please decorate the tree already?" you pouted.

"I wasn't being a grinch!" he insisted.

"See? That's exactly what a grinch would say!" you laughed, "You can't just turn off my Christmas music when I'm mid-jam session!"

"That's not called being a grinch, that's called being considerate of our neighbors," he smirked, but gave you the ornament he was holding anyways. You stuck your tongue out as you took it from his hands, hanging it on your Christmas tree.

Suddenly you smirked and started singing as loudly as you were before, "All I want for Christmas i-" but before you could hit the high note, Jake simply picked you up over his shoulder and started carrying you away.

"No wait," you said in between fits of laughter, "I'll stop I promise, just let me decorate the tree!"

"Alright," Jake chuckled and put you down. "But no more singing! You don't want to get on the naughty list," he smirked.

"Who said I didn't?" you smirked right back, and before he could reply you were already walking back towards the tree. Jake joined you and you both decorated in silence together, his getting to all the high places.

After a while, all that was missing was the star, and you walked back to enjoy your handiwork. "I think we did a pretty good job," you told Jake, who was getting the star out and handed it to you. With a smile, he gestured and you hopped on his back, wrapping your legs around his unfairly slim torso as you carefully put it on top of the tree.

"Perfect!" you exclaimed, bouncing up and down as he put you down again.

"Almost," Jake replied with a grin. "I have a surprise for you. Um… here, put these on," he gave you his glasses and you put them on, immediately blinking harshly.

"Jake, you are so blind!" you yelled as you rubbed your eyes.

"Yeah, yeah, I just didn't want you to see the gift!" he yelled back excitedly.

"You could've just told me to close my eyes!" you giggled, as you did that anyways. Glasses with the wrong prescription were a nightmare.

"Well, I see you're doing it anyways," he said, his voice closer than you expected, as you felt him reach out and take the glasses off on your face. "Open your eyes."

You opened them, blinking a few times before registering what he was holding – a little coffee cup ornament, that said 'I love you' on the side. You pounced on Jake and pulled him into a bone crushing hug, whispering "I love you too, dork," into his neck as he held you.

When you backed away, you could see his face was stretched into a grin. "I take it you like it?"

"I love it," you pecked his lips sweetly before taking it from him and hanging it on the tree.

You stepped away, your back leaning against Jake's chest as he leaned his head on your shoulder. "Merry Christmas, sweetheart."

"Merry Christmas," you answered back with a smile, tilting your head back to meet his lips in a gentle kiss.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

hope you liked it!! sorry it was so late, it’s been a rough month (and year lol). heppy new years, i hope you have a safe and wonderful new year!<3

Taglist:  @horny-nd-bored​ @shannon124 @perfectlyharolds​ @wintersoldierslut​ @iceebabies​  @sleepingpapermouse @steverogerswasalwaysworthy @holtzkinnon @angelicl-y @stydia-4-ever @thatoneperson5000 @fangirlfree​ @kaitcordx25 @bequeening​ @steve-barry-damon-logan​ @itscrazycherryblossomcollection​ @hollandxmarvel​ @stargazingfangirl18 @readsreblogsfics @onetwo3000 @beritmetal @harrystylesholland @jazbot2000 @anobscurename @xxxtwilightaxelxxx @peggycarter-steverogers @evansphnx12

if you wanna join / be removed from a taglist, comment/message me! much love <3

[airi-p4]

From above the stars - Chapter 7

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | ... 

_____________________________________________________

Sorry for the long wait! I’m not forgetting about this story!! I love it and I’m stopping overthinking it so it can progress at last. I hope you enjoy 💙

Chapter summary:

Gabriel offers Marinette something unexpected she can't refuse. At the same time, Luka stops coming to the cemetery, and she can't help but worry: he had promised her he wouldn't disappear...

AO3

___________________________

CHAPTER 7 - Lost

Marinette was staring at Luka's only message on her phone, dated from the previous morning (the one he sent to confirm his contact), when she received a SMS: Gabriel Agreste.

She felt uneasy from being summoned again by her late ex-boyfriend's cold father, but despite hating the idea of meeting him, she got ready to pay him a visit. Gabriel Agreste received her coldly as always, but this time, instead of mourning his son, he had an offer she didn’t expect.

"Marinette. I want to reassume the fashion business. I need someone talented to take care of the designs of Agreste’s future collections and I’m confident you could fill in for that job position. I've seen your sketchbooks and Adrien was right: you're very talented."

Marinette didn't know what to say. It's true Adrien had mentioned showing her designs to his father, but he always ended up apologizing because, in the end, Gabriel would never listen to him. Marinette didn't have much time to think as his suggestion progressed.

"Bring me a few new designs the day after tomorrow and we can discuss this matter further. Take it as a test to see if you’re fit for that job position" He asked.

"The- the day after tomorrow…? I- haven't drawn much lately, I'm not sure I can-"

"I'm sure you won't disappoint me. I would really appreciate it if you joined the Agreste empire. You're the only one I can trust"

Marinette felt sick. Not only because of the autoritharism he launched towards her, but also by the word 'trust'. Was it fair he ‘trusted’ her when she was already moving on from the love she used to have for Adrien- his son? Wasn't she betraying both father and son if she accepted Gabriel Agreste's offer? What options did she have, though? She couldn't refuse- she had had her part to blame for the accident and had to take responsibility for her actions. For Adrien...

"Thank you, Mister Agreste. I- I'll try…" she answered unsecure.

"Good. You can go now. You have some designs to work with. See you the day after tomorrow, here, at the same time"

Marinette nodded at Gabriel's cold back in front of her before passing through the main gates of the mansion to the street. She would have been happy to receive a chance like this when she dated Adrien, but now…? She wasn't sure if she wanted it anymore. She knew she needed a job other than helping at her parents' bakery, but how was she supposed to design anything after months without properly working on her fashion designs? Moreover, working with Gabriel made her uneasy. She could already feel the pressure on her shoulders from a task she shouldn't have trouble to accomplish under normal circumstances. These weren't normal circumstances. She didn't belong to the Agreste family anymore, yet she couldn't find the courage to tell Mister Agreste- or worse: to disappoint him. He needed her and she didn't want to fail his expectations- especially when she felt she was partly at fault for his son's passing.

Snapping from her never-ending thoughts about her new job offer, Marinette checked Luka's message on her phone again. ‘Thank you for today’. No matter how many times she read it, it never failed to help her find some calm. Unknowingly, she would always embrace her phone and smile at it. 'I want to see you' Marinette thought on her way to the cemetery, after buying some flowers.

___________________________________

Marinette knew she was supposed to work on her designs instead of waiting for Luka, but she couldn't stop herself. She waited, patiently, for hours, even for longer than the time he usually left… but nothing: he didn't come.

It wasn't like him to miss his visit to his sisters. Plus, he had promised her he wouldn’t disappear as long as anything unexpected happened. Marinette became anxious. 'Did anything happen to him? Did he catch a cold during the chill night? Did he become wary of her for depending and relying so much on him? Was his promise out of pity?' She couldn't know the answer.

Lonely and distracted, she went to Trocadero, where she usually hung around- either to babysit Manon, to draw and design or on her dates with Adrien- a place full of memories and her favorite corner in Paris. She expected to find the inspiration that used to overflow whenever she held a pencil in her favorite drawing spot.

She sat at the stairs and looked at her surroundings: the majestic Eiffel tower in front of her, the merry-go-round at her right, with cheerful children playing on it, the candy and ice-cream stalls at the left side. A pair of skaters racing, couples, families and groups of friends were also what Marinette's eyes usually enjoyed observing. She tried to look for inspiration on the landscape, but nothing. Her eyes may have been looking at Trocadero, but her head was somewhere else: Luka. She couldn't help but worry something bad may have happened to him.

Inspiration didn't hit as she called it a day. Still concerned, she read Luka's message again before going to sleep.

________________________________

The next day the story repeated: her last message was still not marked as read, and Luka didn't appear at the cemetery. Two days in a row without him was starting to be too hard for her heart. She spent the afternoon at Trocadero again, and when she didn't expect it, as a way to cover her impatience and negativity, her solitude, her fears and her desire to meet him became her sole inspiration.

The morning after, Marinette woke up early to go to Agreste's mansion. Gabriel welcomed her with a hug, and soon he asked for her sketchbook. The old man's strict eyes observed: every detail, every color, every choice of fabrics… Marinette could feel his judging eyes on her through her pencil-drawn sketches.

"Marinette" Gabriel called after closing the sketchbook, and turning to face her with piercing eyes. "What's the meaning of this?"

"I- My new designs…" she answered, scared of his glacial look on her.

"This… this is absolutely worthless" he coldly stated, startling Marinette. "I can understand the negative and longing feelings, but this?” he signaled. “This is not Agreste's style. Can you imagine Adrien wearing any of those? What were you thinking? I'm so disappointed…" he sighed.

Marinette gulped and her body was trembling, afraid of the cold man in front of her. She should have imagined her drawings would turn out to be not of Gabriel's likings. It was obvious they didn't fit with Agreste's style, with elegance and high-class as its trademark. She had been inspired by Luka, and the rock style of her newest drawings screamed his name everywhere. But it was the only thing she could come up with in her state, no matter how hard she tried.

"I'm so sorry… Let me re-do them, please" she begged, seeing the chance she had always dreamed about vanish before her eyes at that instant.

"You have one more day. I have great expectations put on you, Marinette. Show me your true potential- the designs my son was fond of"

"Yes sir. Thank you" she bowed her head, quickly excusing herself to walk through the main gates. She was trembling like a little mouse in front of its predator. She needed to throw out those disgusting feelings of inferiority and devaluing. She needed to recover her steady breath and calm. She needed Luka's presence close to keep her feet on the ground. She needed him to keep her sanity.

But, once again, he didn't come to the cemetery. Another day without him around. Another day with growing anxiety and worry. Another day of painful loneliness… but new designs still needed to be done...

Back at Trocadero, she decided to try to keep her head occupied with her drawings. She tried remembering her dates with Adrien- or what she used to base her designs on before.

She remembered walking hand in hand with him, sharing André's ice-cream, sharing one spoon, and being scolded by a baby's mother when she tried to give her baby a candy from the candy stall. She also remembered bumping with the flyer man- Mr Banana- when she had been rushed by Adrien, all his papers flying and scattered on the ground. She still felt a little bad for not helping him recover his flyers (especially when Adrien stepped on some of them). She also remembered riding the merry-go-round with her ‘Prince’ and she, his ‘Princess’. She remembered picnics with their best friends, too. Even the selfish, prideful and arrogant Chloe, Adrien's childhood friend, had finally accepted her as Adrien's girlfriend in front of the Eiffel tower. She wondered where her past friends were now.

The memories she had now were bittersweet- happy but also sad. How much truth and how much fantasy was in her memories? Adrien's perfection had been an illusion of hers. And their mutual friends 'friendship' appeared to be so too, when they hadn't called her in months. At least Chloe still greeted her when they met in the street, and she still brought Adrien flowers once a week. 'What was Gabriel looking for in her designs?' she had asked herself. Her answer was clear- 'the illusion of a perfect life'.

______________________________

Gabriel's eyes studied her newest designs the day after. Elegance, class, innovation- Gabriel's lips displayed a faint proud smile under his serious facade and Marinette could finally breathe.

"Marinette. You really are talented. You outdid yourself here" he said, closing her sketchbook to look at her. "I'm going to ask Nathalie to make your designs part of the new collection. With only a few arrangements they'll be perfect. Good job"

"Thank you, Sir", she bowed.

"As promised, I want you to be the new designer of the company. Take it as training. I expect you to become the pillar of this company in a few years". His chin raised to look at her from an upper position. Marinette’s eyes couldn’t possibly open more as she gasped.

"Wha-! With all my respect, I- I don't think I deserve that, Sir" her head sank between her shoulders.

"Nonsense. You're the only one who cared about my son. You're all I have left from him now, my daughter-in-law. You're the only one I can trust" he reassured her with a hand on her shoulders, under his melancholic facial expression. "I count on you"

"Yes, Sir" her mouth automatically responded. Gabriel hugged her in a grateful manner, before stating the work conditions: a full sketchbook of new designs per week. No fixed schedule, just a deadline every Friday. Marinette agreed with the conditions, still doubting her capabilities.

When she stepped out of the mansion, she wanted to scream, to cry, to jump… but most of all she wanted to meet Luka. Three days without him and she already felt like she was losing her mind. She hoped to finally meet him and hug him and tell him how much she had missed him- but nothing: no new flowers on his sisters tombstones apart from hers.

Disappointed and worried, she moved to Trocadero again. Her message to Luka was still unanswered and marked as unread. She contemplated the idea of calling him, but she supposed she would be a nuisance if he was at work- or maybe he was unreachable when he had yet to read her message. She had no claim on him, anyway. There was nothing else she could do. Before she could notice, tears were falling from her eyes.

She must have been showing a very depressing aura, because soon, André Glacier approached to offer her an ice-cream. The candy stall lady offered her a strawberry flavored lollipop and even Mr Banana offered her a paper crafted flower made out of his flyers.

For the first time, Marinette realized she was also part of the landscape she loved the most in Paris, and she was moved by their welcoming affection. The merry-go-round old man also offered her a blanket to rest on the grass. She was exhausted from the swirl of emotions she had been going on these past days and she soon fell asleep. She could have sworn she could hear Luka's guitar nearby- the song he always played- but her eyelids were too heavy to open. 'Luka…' she cried, and she entered dreamland with the feeling of someone's hand softly caressing her hair. Through her almost closed eyes, she could almost swear she saw nails painted in black, but she convinced herself she must have just dreamed it.

That night, she armed herself with courage and sent Luka another message. 'Let's meet tomorrow. I'll wait for you'.

Before going to sleep, she wished to the stars to meet him again… but they must have been angry at her because no one expected a strong windstorm for the next day. Marinette's parents forbade her to go outside in that weather, but she escaped through the back door and fought the winds to go to the cemetery.

'Why am I even here?' she thought, looking at the still unread message. 'There's no way he comes in this weather… I’m such a fool...' Marinette sighed. She could see some tree branches falling down; and cardboards, metallic plates and other pieces of various materials being carried by the windstorm. She sought refuge behind the Couffaine's family mausoleum, wishing for their forgiveness as the clock hit Luka's usual curfew.

He didn't come. Again.

Defeated, she reached for her phone: no new messages. 'What was the point of being there when he was obviously not going to come?' She felt stupid. And maybe she was. She probably was. Stupidly in love, she realized. Was she even allowed to love someone she had hurt so much? Did she even deserve his attention? Or his help? Will he ever come back to her? Was he even real?

She was losing her mind.

The strong howling winds were covering her loud painful shriek. Her hoarse throat felt ready to tear anytime as her crying amplified. When was the last time she cried like that? Right. After her first visit to Adrien's grave- months ago, when she first met with Luka.

"Luka… I miss you… I want to see you… please… I need to know you haven't left me behind too… please… don't leave me alone… Please… I need to know you're safe… I need you..." she cried in exhaustion, her body curled, sinking her head between her knees. With one last check on her phone, she lost all her hope: no new messages, despite the message marked now as read.

He willingly ignored her, she supposed, devastated. He didn't want to meet with her, didn't he? She was abusing his kindness when his suffering was worse than hers. And his sisters… Of course he would secretly hate her… Maybe living had no point anymore, she thought, utterly defeated by the depression she had been fighting since she woke up in that hospital room. Maybe it was her destiny, or a curse. Once again, she was surrounded by her inner darkness.

‘Maybe it’s time to give up…'

"Marinette!" She could hear someone calling. Probably her imagination, she assumed. "Marinette!" The same voice repeated- Luka's voice. She thought she was at the border of losing her sanity when he called again "Marinette!", but this time he appeared in front of her, sweating, with his hair messy from the wind.

If it weren't for how he ran to hug her immediately, she would have convinced herself he was a product of her imagination. But the touch was real. He was real. And he was there with her. "Luka…!" She cried, clinging to his clothes.

"What are you doing here in this windstorm? Haven't you seen the news? It's dangerous! You could have injured yourself" he scolded her, panicking and worrying. "What would I do if anything happened to you…?" he whispered, so low she wouldn't have heard him if his mouth weren't almost touching her ear.

"Luka... Luka! I was- so scared! And worried! I- I've missed you so much!" She screamed between whimpers, as her arms grip tightened around him.

"I'm here Marinette, it's ok. Sorry for being late" he apologized, hugging her tightly. "I'm so sorry"

"Luka, I-" before she could continue, two voices joined the wind sounds.

"Marinette?" "Marinette!"

"My parents," she gasped, recognizing their voices.

With his usual gentleness, Luka offered her his hand and helped her stand up, but she refused to let go of him.

"Go with them. They must be worried" Luka said in his usual calmed voice.

"But-"

"I'll be here as usual as soon as the weather allows me to. Rest assured". His hands on her shoulders were more reassuring than the unreadable look on his face, but he sounded sincere to Marinette and she decided to trust him.

"But- what happened? Why didn't you answer my messages? She cried. "You promised you wouldn’t willingly disappear and yet… I was so worried something bad could have happened to you..."

"I'm sorry, Marinette… Something happened, it’s true, but-” he looked away and took a deep breath before looking at the directions Marinette’s parents' voices came from. “I'll tell you next time. You better go now. Your parents sound very worried"

"Will you really come again?" Marinette asked, squeezing his hand, scared of him disappearing again.

"I promise. I won’t fail you again” He nodded. “Now go."

Marinette was hesitant, but she finally let go of his hand and started walking towards her parents' voices, encouraged by Luka's hurt smile and his slight push on her back.

"Mom! Dad!" She cried, running to hug them.

"Marinette! We were so worried! Why did you escape? It's dangerous! What if anything happened to you, all alone here…" her mother hugged her.

"No, mom. I wasn't alone… I was with-" she turned to signal Luka, but he was nowhere to be found. 'Did she imagine it?' she frowned her eyebrows in disappointment.

"Let's go home" her father said, with his arm behind her back.

Sad and confused, Marinette looked back once again, wondering if her meeting with Luka had just been a product of her imagination. But when she looked back again, he was indeed there, watching them from afar.

In relief, Marinette waved back at him, but he walked away- not before Marinette's mother caught a glimpse of him.

"See, mom? Luka was with me!" She signaled, noticing how she had seen him too. Sabine’s reaction was not what Marinette expected. She had a look Marinette’ had never seen before on her mother’s face: a mix of anger, sadness and fear. Her words only amplified the bad vibrations she was giving off.

"Marinette. You should stay away from that man" she coldly warned her daughter.

Marinette was confused. "Why?"

"Just stay away from him, please"

Why? Why did she have to stay away from Luka? Why would her mother dislike him? Did she know him? Why did it feel like everyone was keeping secrets from her?

Marinette didn't plan to listen to her mother. No matter how massive was the concern and fear her face reflected.

[fidothefinch]

grow as we go

For Dick & Damian Week, day 3: adoption papers

cw: grief

When Damian had returned, he had never felt more alone than when he realized he would grieve Richard by himself.

Read on Ao3

Grief is a lingering thing.

Damian discovered it when the weather changed.

He slid out of bed the same way he did every morning. The old Manor let in a draft that brought Gotham’s chill with it, and Damian didn’t know why his chest ached.

He ignored the feeling all the way downstairs, and then down more stairs, until he reached the Cave and his feet stilled. They were heavy; sandbags attached to the bottom of his legs.

He stared at the glass case.

He hadn’t looked at it in months. Not since the last time, when he had sobbed himself sick leaning against the memorial, the glass cold and hard against his hot face.

It was so, so far from the embrace he had wanted.

Still, it was the best he had had.

And, still, it was the best he had.

He trudged to the case’s side. Sat. It felt good to be low to the ground. He felt heavy.

He leaned his head to the side, against the glass.

He had thought this was behind him.

Everybody else had already mourned. They were done; it was a trauma processed and dealt with.

Damian didn’t know the date of his death. He missed the public service, and the private service, and the burial after. He missed the nights huddled around steaming mugs in the kitchen, sharing silence and the weight of the sun blinking out of existence. He missed the weekend they spent cleaning up Richard’s apartment, packing away his cherished photographs and trivial doodles and timeworn clothing.

And when Damian had returned, he had never felt more alone than when he realized he would grieve Richard by himself.

Richard liked autumn.

Had liked autumn.

Damian shut his eyes, but it didn’t stop the memory of an autumn afternoon, taking a much younger Titus on a walk. Leaves had crunched under their feet – Richard had gone out of his way to stomp on several of them. He had probably worn one of his baggy sweaters, knit with colorful patterns and stretched at the elbows from use. He had let Damian borrow one that morning, and though it dwarfed him, even with the sleeves rolled back three times, Damian had loved it. He had loved the entire experience, through the idle chatter, the vibrant multicolored scenery, and the homey smell of dirt and leaves and Richard’s shampoo. It had been the first time he had really, truly, felt like he was at home in Gotham.

He hadn’t told Richard any of that.

He wouldn’t get to.

“Damian?”

Damian summed up the energy to wipe the tear tracks from his face. He didn’t look up, even though his skin prickled with the weight of Timothy’s unreadable gaze. He didn’t respond, just dragged himself to his feet to begin his morning workout. He was already behind, and he cared just enough for it to bother him.

Routine. He needed his routine.

A hand caught his shoulder on his way to the mats. “Wait.” The word was quiet, almost whispered into the cool cave air.

“I am behind already.”

The fingers on his shoulder flexed, and relaxed, and fell away completely. “Okay.”

-

After his workout and the shower that always followed, Damian found himself without purpose. He roamed the dark, chilly manor halls, reluctant to return to his room and the loneliness that necessarily followed.

The library door was open, the curtains drawn back to let the wan sun make the dark, cracked leather of the couch glisten. It was more inviting than his own room, at least.

Richard had not been a frequent visitor to the manor’s bookshelves. He had been too busy between his caseload, his day job, and trying to take care of Damian. (Damian knew he had not made it easy for him.) But Richard’s own peculiarities barred him from taking up Bruce’s study after Damian’s father had passed, and the library was the only other room in the vast home that housed a decent desk.

Damian found himself drawn to the room, wishing to see the familiar silhouette of his older brother in the window, or the familiar head of hair peeking over the couch’s arm as he dozed in the midmorning glow.

Except for himself, the room was empty.

Damian floated around the shelves, pretending he wasn’t disappointed that the room felt so hollow. Gone were the sticky notes, the empty mugs of coffee, and the faint smell of Richard’s cologne. The room was perfectly clean. Barren.

His eyes caught on the well-worn spine of a familiar book. The Merry Adventures of Robin Hood. It had been Richard’s favorite, when he was a boy. Despite his cajoling, Damian had never been interested in reading it. (He had called it drivel. What he would give to take back those words, to take the opportunity to spend more time with him now.)

Damian ran his hands over the soft leather, faded by the sun. He could read it now. Reclaim that piece of affection he had dismissed so easily before.

Mind made up, he tugged the book from the shelf.

Something fluttered down to his feet.

Damian watched it, confused at first by the folded papers. They were not yet yellowed with age, like the pages of the book were, but they were creased in a practiced way, the way that only came from unfolding and refolding a document over and over again.

He stooped to pick up the small packet. Flipped it over.

“To Damian”

It was Richard’s handwriting. Nicer than that he had used for his notes and scribbles, more genuine than the style he had adopted for his signature. Damian traced the words, unable to move past them.

To Damian.

This was something for him.

Hands trembling slightly now, Damian slid one finger into the packet to reverently unfurl the papers along the first crease, then the second.

It was a note.

Damian,

I know I’m not what you expected when you came to Gotham. I’m not Bruce in any of the ways that matter. (You’ve told me.) But you’ve grown so much since the first time I met you, and I know I can’t take credit for it, but I can be proud.

When Bruce took me in, he promised me he wouldn’t try to replace my parents. I can’t replace your dad, but I have learned through experience that there’s always room for more family, even if it’s a little unconventional. You’re my family now, and nothing you do, no decision you make, can ever change that.

A fat tear smeared the ink on a few words. Damian sniffed and tried to wipe his face with his shoulder to prevent further damage. His shirt was quickly soaked through. He held his breath, trying to quiet the sobs that bobbed in the back of his throat.

Through watery eyes, he scanned the last lines of the note.

I’m so proud of the person you are, and I can’t wait to see the person you’re becoming.

Love, Dick (Richard)

Damian sank into a crouch, and from there back until he was propped against the bookshelf. The uneven spines of books dug into his back, providing points of pressure against his uncontrollable hitched breathing.

He was sick of crying, but there was something different about this. The tears helped. The gasps and sobs hurt, but they snapped some of the tight bands around his chest. Even as he scrubbed at his running nose, he realized that his throat was finally clear.

He gently set the pages on the floor to hug himself.

“I’m so proud of the person you are, and I can’t wait to see the person you’re becoming.” He repeated the sacred words like a mantra, uncaring who may overhear.

When he finally got himself under control, he felt lighter than he had in weeks. Wiping away the last of the water clinging to his lashes, he picked up the packet and flipped to the next page.

At first, he didn’t understand what he was looking at. But as the realization set in, he bit down on the palm of his hand, using the feeling to ground him in the sudden, unexpected glow of peace.

They were adoption papers. Dated for a week before his father’s return, so long ago. Richard had already signed. And over Damian’s empty signature box was a yellowing sticky note:

“Only if you want to. This doesn’t change anything.

“I love you.”

[helaintoloki]

#23 with Peter Parker!

a/n: y’all got me in my peter parker feels :’)

warnings: angst, mentions of death, fluff

* #23: spending your first Christmas together // taken from this prompt list

The cabin is quiet as you sit beside the window and watch the snow that blankets the grass and the trees in sheets of pure white. What is normally a joyous time of year is now bittersweet to you as you reminisce on all you’ve endured in the past few months; the world was still healing from Thanos and the blip, and you were still mourning the loss of many of your family members. Natasha was gone, the Steve who had once been able to carry you on his shoulders around the compound was now old and frail, and, worst of all, your father was dead.

You’d been one of the many unfortunate souls who had lost their lives in the aftermath of the snap, and in those five years of absence so much had changed for Tony. He married Pepper, settled down in a quiet little cabin, and together they had another daughter. It was almost perfect, but your absence was great enough for him to realize that until he brought you back he’d never truly be happy. With the help of his fellow Avengers he was able to reverse the damage of the blip, and though your reunion was short lived— a hug and a trembling kiss to the forehead before being separated in battle— it was everything to him. You hadn’t been able to say goodbye, too inconsolable to come up with any words as he took his final breath, but Pepper assured you that he knew what you wanted to say without having to say it. He didn’t pass away peacefully, but he did pass away surrounded by the people he loved most, and that was what kept you adrift in the merciless tides of your grief.

Months had passed and you’d been given the opportunity to settle back down into your new life. You got to see your new home and your new bedroom— all of your belongings from your old home set up in a way that made it seem as if you hadn’t been gone for five years— and meet your new little sister. Thankfully the transition into her life had been easy, Tony and Pepper had shown her countless photos and told her endless stories about the eldest Stark child, and with no time at all you became best friends. Pepper had given you the option to live with your birth mother back in the city, to resume your high school career back at Midtown Tech, to be closer to your friends, but you didn’t feel ready to go back just yet. You wanted privacy during your time of mourning, and you didn’t think you’d be able to handle the sympathetic gazes cast your way or the prying questions about all you’d endured as the daughter of Iron Man, so opted to stay with your step-mother and little sister and participate in home schooling. The cabin was quiet and peaceful and it still had remnants of your father in every single room; it was comforting, and you needed comfort, so you stayed.

Peter Parker was a frequent visitor of the Stark cabin, coming by at least every other weekend to drop off school supplies and spend his time with you and Morgan. You’d met Peter at the ripe age of fifteen when your father had recruited him for the civil war against Captain America— a battle you begrudgingly sat out of— and it was a friendship at first sight. You found him easy to talk to, he could always make you laugh and he was always so kind, and soon you found that Peter Parker was a presence you could not live without. You had only been together romantically for a month when you’d both been dusted out of existence, and now you found yourselves making up for the lost time. Both May and Pepper understood your need to be together frequently, so they said nothing and left you to your own devices. Thus, when you expressed your want to have Peter over for the holidays, both women eagerly agreed: your boyfriend would spend the night Christmas Eve and his aunt would arrive Christmas morning with Happy in tow.

The snow falls steadily outside, and with the warmth of Peter’s arms wrapped around your middle as well as the woolen blanket draped over your body you find yourself being lulled in and out of consciousness. Your back pressed against his chest, you allow your head to lean backward upon his shoulder, smiling when he rests his chin atop of your head.

“Five minutes until midnight,” he hums sleepily, gaze glancing towards the clock. This Christmas held many firsts for you both: your first Christmas in five years, your first Christmas as a couple, and your first Christmas without Tony. It was bitter and sweet all at once, but you knew that with Peter by your side you could get through anything.

“Our first Christmas together,” you reply with the smallest of smiles, tilting your back to look up at the boy and being gifted with a kiss to the forehead for your efforts. You can see the tears that gloss over in his eyes but never once fall down his face; he’s being strong for you, and you appreciate it. You know that once the waterworks start you won’t be able to stop.

“I’m really grateful for you,” Peter says, his voice slightly strained with emotion, “and for Morgan and Mrs. Stark.”

The mention of your sister leaves you smiling faintly. She had wanted to stay up with you and Peter and count down the minutes to Christmas, but Pepper had insisted that if she didn’t go to sleep Santa wouldn’t bring any presents, so she reluctantly went to bed. You’re excited to see all the toys she’ll get to open and all the gifts she’ll be spoiled with— this was your first Christmas with Morgan, too.

“I know,” you reply quietly, “we’re grateful for you, too. I’m glad you’re here, and so is my dad.”

“You think so?” He replies, a single tear sliding down his cheek despite the smile he wears.

“I know so.”

He leans down just as you tilt your head up to press a loving kiss to your lips, eyes fluttering shut and hands firmly gripping at your waist to ground himself in the moment. This is real, you’re both here in the living room sitting in front of the window by the Christmas tree, you’re safe, and he loves you. When Peter finally pulls away both of your gazes settle on the clock, watching as the time changes from 11:59 p.m. to 12:00 a.m.. Small smiles are shared between you two as you settle back against him, blanket wrapped tighter around you.

“Merry Christmas, Peter.”

“Merry Christmas, y/n.”

You fall asleep in front of the window where the snow falls gently outside and the lights on the tree twinkle brilliantly in the dark. There were many promises Peter had made to himself when Tony had died: to be a better hero, to be a better nephew, and to be the best possible boyfriend he could be. He would keep you feeling loved and safe until his dying breath, and the knowledge of his job well done brings him enough peace to fall asleep with you wrapped tightly in his hold.

And as long as you still want him around, he’ll never let you go.

[soliverse]

winter promises - q.kn

pairing: gangster au!kun x student!reader

genre: angst, a tiny bit of fluff

warnings: mentions of violence, death, injury and bullying (they weren’t explicitly shown but they were mentioned by the characters. nothing too graphic or triggering.)

word count: 2323

ps: hello @strykiss​! I got chosen as your secret santa this year. I debated whether to post From Home or Winter Promises at the last minute but this was the fic that I promised you at my ask. Sorry it took a while :< I hope you liked it.

Winter Promises is a part of the Secret Santa Collab by @lucaswithnoshirt and @bumblebeenct. This is my very first collab and I’m thankful that you have let me be a part of it.

If you want to read the other fics created by the other amazing nct writers, just head over to @neoculturechristmas​ for the other secret santa entries.

networks: @nctcreations​ @kdiarynet @kpopscape

The harshness of the winter has never felt colder than today. Just a few weeks ago, you planned to visit your brother James and spend the rest of Christmas break together. Everything changed when you received a call from the police a few days ago. You almost broke down when they told you about your brother’s passing.

You lived in a different area from your brother because you had to go to school. All this time, you believed that your brother is a salesman. That’s how he was able to pay for college fees and living expenses. Little did you know, he was actually hiding a secret from you.

The police found his body after a gang fight. After a bit of an investigation, they discovered that your brother is actually a member of one of the notorious gangs in the area. He is one of the Guardias. They are people of the night, lurking in the shadows and can only be identified by the tattoo of a black wolf in their forearms. That explains why he wore those long sleeves all of the time whenever he visits, even when in the blistering heat. He just used the excuse that he had to look professional at all times

What’s worse about his death is you had no other living relatives. You were both orphans that got kicked out of the systems when you got older. Nobody attended his funeral but the priest and yourself.

You stood at the middle of the field alone, the cemetery wrapped in a think blanket of snow. You did nothing for the past few hours but stood there in front of his grave and stared blankly at his epitaph.

IN MEMORIAM

JAMES Y/L/N

March 31, 199x – December 20, 20xx

A LOVING BROTHER

Reading the engraved letters made you tear up again.

You just can’t believe that he had to die like this, that he had to lie to make you feel better. You wondered how much he had to suffer just seconds before he dies, recalling the horrible state of his body when they discovered him. Just thinking about it made you shake from anger and grief. It didn’t take long before you broke down and sat right next to the grave hugging your knees.

“Hey…”

You were interrupted by a concerned Kun. He pulled you towards him and wrapped his loving arms around you.

“Sorry for being late.”

You desperately needed someone that day and him coming meant the world to you. If there’s someone that will understand what you are currently going through, it would be him. Just like the two of you, he’s also alone because he had to study overseas. He had a brotherly bond with James, like he’s an extension of your brother. James would always tell Kun that he would be the one to take care of you while he’s gone. It’s safe to say that he still fulfilled that promise.

“I’m sorry you had to spend Christmas like this…”

Eventually, he took your hands to find a nearby bench that you can sit comfortably. He started patting your head and never let go of you until you stopped crying.

“I’ll be fine. Thank you for coming.”

He handed you a handkerchief from his pockets so you can wipe your tears away. His hand still remained your shoulders, patting it gently to calm you down.

“If it makes you feel any better, I got a gift for you.”

He started patting all over his winter coat and his pockets to look for something. Taking it out on one of his inner pockets, he pulled out a box wrapped with a tiny red bow on top. You opened it right away and there was a unique bracelet inside of it.

“Merry Christmas Y/N. I made a promise to James when he’s still alive...”

He took your hand and placed the bracelet in your palms.

“As long as you’re wearing this, James and I will always be with you…”

Your heart melted as he said this to you. You couldn’t help yourself but to hug him once again. His touch felt like summer on this cold, winter night.

///

About a few weeks passed by and your classes resumed once again. You used that supposed break to mourn over James and help yourself to get over from his loss. Kun had a part-time job to attend to, but he always made sure to check on you from time to time.

Wintertime still surrounded the area, but some people already took down their decorations and things went back to normal. As you skipped across the snowy road, you couldn’t help but stare at the thing that’s jingling in your right arm. You stopped on your tracks and held it up to the sky. Your eyes squinted, trying to look for something special in the bracelet that the Kun gave you for Christmas.

It was the single thing that made you smile every day. His words repeated in your head like a broken record and you can’t help but blush at the thought of it. You always this little crush on him even before, but his caring nature the past couple of weeks make your heart flutter even more. This made you unconsciously touch it. You raised your arm up to your eye level and you finally realized that the bracelet is held together by two wolves, one on each side of the bracelet. You wondered why this was the design that he chose, considering that it doesn’t look that girly. It was weird, but you just shrugged it off when you realized that you still have to walk to school.

///

You came just shy a few minutes before the class starts. The professor is still out of sight, so you bowed to greet everyone inside before you walk towards your desk. The class didn’t pay you any attention. It’s always been that way ever since you got admitted to the school. Making friends is hard when people judge you from the way that you dress or the life that you live in every day. You don’t get to wear nice cloths just like everybody else because you liked to save your money for things that are more important.

The other girls would roll their eyes out and point out how worn out your uniform looks or make gestures behind your back. It stayed that way for years, but you never had the guts to tell Kun or James. You have to be strong for yourself sometimes and just ignored their mockery.

You were taking out the textbooks from your bag when you overheard the other girls squealing excitedly at each other. One of them is your classmate Lilith. Everyone thinks she’s so cool because she has a gangster boyfriend that buys her expensive stuff. It’s probably another designer brand bag or something.

“It looks so pretty! Have you tried using it yet?”

You swear that you can sense Lilith’s condescending smirk even when your back is turned against her.

“I haven’t actually. But he said it’s suuuuppppeeeer expensive. Like, it’s worth more than anything he’s ever bought me. I can’t wait to use it at clubs tonight!”

She said in this exaggerated tone that you hate. She had this habit of making herself extra loud so that you’ll hear what she’s trying. You roll your eyes internally and just proceeded to open your notes and tried to recall the lessons that you had for the past few weeks.

“Are you sure? It doesn’t look that much…”

“Ugh…” She sounded so offended at her friend’s remark.

“This bracelet are only given to very special people. It means they are under the protection of the whole group. It means nobody is allowed to touch the very fiber of her being. I can basically do whatever I want and no one will stop me.”

Your hopes of concentrating on your lessons was completely thrown out of the window. At a desperate attempt to keep your sanity intact, you cupped both of your ears with your hands.

“Special, huh? Then why does Y/N have one too?”

“There’s no way…”

You yelped as you felt someone yank out your hand away from your head.

“What do you want, Lilith?”

She yanked it again towards her face and so she can get a better view of your right hand.

“Hey! Let me go!”

You tried grabbing your hand away from her at the same time that she lets go of your hand aggressively, the force sending you off to the floor.

“So, you got claimed too huh?”

You glared at her direction, but the bright red thing on her wrists caught your attention. It looked similar to your bracelet, the only difference being that it was red and the wolf was replaced with a silver dragon. It’s strikingly similar to the one you’re currently wearing.

“I wonder which lowlife scum you had to sleep with just so you can have one of those.”

She folded her arms and scoffed at your direction

“Of course. It had to be one of those filthy G-.”

A stern voice interrupted her from the front door.

“Watch your mouth, Lilith.”

The voice came from Kun, you looked incredibly pissed.

“Leave her alone. She just lost her brother.”

Lilith opened her mouth again but Kun just raised his eyebrows at her. His gaze seemed to be sending her a message that only the two of them can understand.

The stand-off have successfully shut Lilith down as she begrudgingly went back to her desk. The professor came right after, so Kun smiled sweetly at your direction before he sat down at his desk.

You got up from the floor and dusted the dirt off of your uniform, still completely oblivious at what just happened. It made you a bit more self-conscious now that everyone has their eyes on you. Thankfully, the professor caught everyone’s attention and your class proceeded as usual.

It didn’t take long before lunch break comes and the bell rang. As soon as the last professor left the door, everyone’s attention was back on you once again. You just sat there awkwardly as you waited for everyone to leave the classroom, not really sure what else to do about this situation.

Kun felt your uneasiness. He stood up from his chair and offered his hand to help you stand up from your chair. Your smile grew wider once again as you took his hand and you walked together to your usual place in the cafeteria.

The both of you took your seats and brought out your lunchbox with you. You took out your lunch, which was a simple meal composed of eggs, bacon and a cup of rice. When took out his containers, you remembered that your bestfriend is actually a bit of a masterchef. There were several varieties of home-cooked meals from his lunchbox. There are dumplings, warm chicken soup, and some of which you don’t even know the names of.

“I made extra so we can share...”

You can tell that there was extra care given to the meals that he made. This man just never fails to amaze you. Looking around the cafeteria, everyone felt the same way. Some of the other girls looked at you with what you can assume is jealousy written all over their faces.

“You know, the girls of this school hate me because they thought I’m your girlfriend right.” He laughed at your comment, his eyes completely disappearing from the stretch of his smile.

“If you’re actually dating me, then I’ll be the luckiest man alive.”

You felt heat coming up from your face, unsure if it was because of his laugh or the thing that he said. Instead of answering him, you took some of the fried rice that he made and stuffed your mouth to hide your embarrassment.

Time passed and you’re about to walk home as well. Kun called out your name and offered to walk you home. You felt some dirty glance being thrown away at your direction once again, but for once, you didn’t mind them.

“Just making sure got home safe.” He explained when you asked him on the way. It’s a sweet gesture from his part once again, but he’s been acting weird throughout the walk. His eyes kept on looking from left to right, as if he’s looking for something.

“Are you alright?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine.”

He relaxed and his cheery self appeared in front of you once again.

As soon as you got inside your house and closed the door behind you, he started to walk along the snowy road. His uneasiness crept back in, looking left and right to make sure that no one is following him.

His whole demeanor changed as soon as he entered his territory. The apartment that you thought he’s staying in is actually the headquarters of a secret gang that’s meant to protect the whole city. Men lined up in his path, bowing at his presence. At his room, he took off layers of his winter clothing, finally revealing a secret that he’s also been hiding from you. It was a tattoo of a black wolf, only given to the elite members of Guardia.

He sat on his couch and grabbed his phone to dial someone’s number.

“Yes, boss?”

“Hey Xuxi, would you mind giving the Kids a call?”

“Sure. What for?”

“Tell Chan that one of his bitches is misbehaving…”

He rested his head and closed his eyes, reminded of how you were treated earlier by Lilith.

“If he doesn’t do anything about it, I will. Make that very clear to him, unless he wants me to break his other arm.”

“I’m on it, sir.”

The call dropped and his phone was now showing his wallpaper, a candid picture that he took without you knowing.

The other gangs have been becoming bold lately and have orchestrating attacks from left to right. Knowing them, he’s sure that they’ll be going after the next Guardia successor, you.

///

“Protect Y/N at all cost. It won’t take long before the world knows about her real identity.”

That is a promise that he’s willing to keep, even to his death.

[acnelli]

Illuminating

I had a lot of fun writing this story for the 2020 HPRomione Discord Secret Santa Exchange. Thank you @remedial-potions for organising this for us. And shout out to @nagemeikenu who beta-read my story at such short notice.

[...] Ron Weasley was, without a doubt, the brightest and strongest light for her and she knew that it was everything she needed. [...]

Also avialable on FFN and AO3.

Please also check out all the other great stories that are and will be added to the AO3 collection.

 “But it’s tradition, Hermione!”

“So?”

“So, it means bad luck if we do.”

“Honestly, you can’t believe that, Ron. This is superstition at its best.”

“Better safe than sorry if you ask me.”

“Isn’t it also against tradition to have sex before being married? I don’t remember you putting up a fight against this particular case of tradition-breaking.”

Hermione crossed her arms in front her and looked expectantly at Ron, absolutely unable to keep the smugness out of her face.

She should’ve known better though because Ron never failed to come up with something in response. “Mum will insist for you to sleep in Ginny’s room tonight. I’m sure,” Ron continued, completely ignoring Hermione’s irrefutable offering of logic, “You may have noticed next to nothing slips by her and this certainly isn’t something she’ll choose to ignore.”

Ron met Hermione with an equally smug grin, absolutely positive bringing Molly Weasley into this would settle the argument.

It didn’t.

“What I indeed noticed is the inability of your family to keep their noses out of our life,” Hermione complained, blowing an annoying strand of hair out of her face, “I love your mother, you know it, but I don’t see how it’s any of her business whether or not the two of us share a bed tonight.”

“She’ll make it her business and you know it.”

“Why does she care?”

“Because it’s bad luck!”

Hermione groaned and ran her hand through her hair in frustration, making it even wilder in the process. Despite them bickering over the silliest things, she certainly didn’t expect this particular topic becoming something they would disagree on. Because as of yet, they never disagreed on anything considering their…bedroom activities.

It was the day before Ron and Hermione’s wedding, and despite their recent argument, Hermione felt excited, looking forward to tie the knot with the tall, lanky redhead in front of her. It was the next milestone in their relationship, and sure enough, the most important one as of yet.

Hermione was well aware that nothing would really change after tomorrow; they’d still continue to live in their quarter of Grimmauld Place since Harry insisted for them to not rent a “ridiculously expensive” apartment in London when they could live in the former Order’s Head Quarter for free. Of course, he was right about that, but both Ron and Hermione agreed that at some point in their life they have to find a place of their own.

Yes, nothing changed. But at the same time, everything did. Marrying Ron didn’t make what they had more important or more meaningful. But there was always something strange about calling Ron her boyfriend. From the earliest moments of their relationship, the word ‘boyfriend’ just didn’t feel right because all things considered, especially the years of mutual pining and constant danger, all the things they went through together, made the word just not strong enough when Hermione thought about it.

She couldn’t help the smile appearing on her face when she thought about the night Ron Weasley stopped being her boyfriend and started to become her fiancé.

It had been almost six months ago when they walked home from Dean’s Christmas Party. The night couldn’t have been more perfect for Christmas Eve with the light layer of snow covering everything, illuminated by the bright light of the full moon. Almost every street light and every window they passed on their way back to Grimmauld Place were decorated with Christmas lights and from somewhere far away they heard a man singing, very loudly and very off-key.

“Reckon that’s one of Dean’s party guests?” Ron laughed as they walked hand in hand through a little park.

Hermione chuckled, thinking about all the booze available at Dean’s. “The only one still sober enough to stand, let alone sing, was Harry. And we know that’s not his singing voice.”

“That’s true. Harry sings much worse than this guy.”

“Definitely,” Hermione said, chuckling at the memory of Harry singing a lullaby to his Godson, “I think he scarred Teddy for life.”

“Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star will forever be a trigger for that poor child.”

Hermione barked out a laugh and took a quick look at her watch.

“Oh, it’s already past midnight, Ron,” she said and looked up at him, “Merry Christmas!”

“Merry Christmas, love.”

Ron stopped walking and pulled Hermione against him, kissing her cold nose. “You know,” he said as he clapped his hand against his jean pocket, “I actually have that present of yours right here with me.”

“And…that present is inside your pants and happy to see me or…?”

Ron barked out that deep laugh she loved so much and she loved it even more when she was the one responsible for it. He leaned down to softly kiss her, leaving Hermione with the taste of eggnog and cinnamon on her lips.

Stepping back a little, Ron pulled out a book of his pocket, clearly too big to fit in there. Since Ron hated carrying around bags the undetectable extension charm became one of Ron’s favourite uses of magic. The book had a thick leather cover and in Ron’s messy handwriting the words ‘Our Adventures’ were dancing up and down the front.

Hermione took the diary-sized book from Ron and opened it to the first page.

‘The Beginning’ it said at the top and it showed a photograph of them and Harry in first year. She couldn’t help but smile back at the three children, especially her past self with wild bushy hair and flushed cheeks and a huge toothy grin. Little Hermione was so happy to finally have friends that it made her forget all about her large front teeth she usually used to avoid showing in pictures.

As she turned the pages, Hermione travelled back in time as she looked at all the moving pictures that showed their shared adventures. From their school years over their joint trips all around the world to birthdays, weddings and family gatherings, it was all there. Even the picture her Dad had made of them when Ron and Hermione brought them back from Australia was in there, positively unmoving, but showing a very tanned Hermione and a Ron with the worst sunburn of his life.

And when she turned the last page there wasn’t another picture of them. The words written there sent a jolt right through her heart, making it beat faster. And when she looked up, the picture in front of her matched the question she just read.

Ron knelt in front her with a small, golden ring in hand and Hermione found the same emotions in his eyes that threatened to fill her heart to bursting and that only he could give her; happiness, hope and…love. 

Back then, he asked her to start their next big adventure. When he proposed to her, something clicked into place. She already had the thing she would miss the most, but to tie the knot felt like the right step to make.

When the witch thought back at their years together as friends and a couple, she couldn’t help but marvel over how well everything worked out in the end. Because Merlin knows, they didn’t have an easy start by any means. Their romance started right when incredibly hard and dark months lay ahead of them; months and years of mourning, rebuilding, coping and one of the things she was incredibly thankful for, therapy. They all needed it, although all of them used to consider it an admission of vulnerability before they finally saw how healing it was, amongst other things.

And despite the grave times and hardships, Hermione always had her very own source of light. Among the wonderful people in her life providing her with the warmth she needed to beat the darkness, one of them stood out the most. Ron Weasley was, without a doubt, the brightest and strongest light for her and she knew that it was everything she needed.

Ron currently stood in front of his wardrobe, fishing out one of his old but still brightly orange Cannon shirts. Before he could turn around again, Hermione walked up and hugged him from behind. She pressed herself against his back, her left cheek resting right between his shoulder blades.

“Okay!” She murmured as her fingertips softly grazed up and down Ron’s sides.

“Okay what?”

“I’ll sleep at my parents’ house tonight.”

Ron turned around to her, clearly surprised about the sudden change of opinion.

Before he could say anything else, she softly kissed him. Returning and deepening the kiss, Ron pulled her closer as a soft moan escaped her. Kissing Ron Weasley most definitely will never get old.

“Are you sure?” He asked, and Hermione couldn’t help but chuckle at the not-so-subtle disappointment in his voice.

“Did you expect me to persuade you with my mediocre seduction skills? Because I think I looked right through you just now.”

With a smug and slightly embarrassed look that only Ron Weasley could manage, he gave her one of his trade-mark lopsided smirks.

“It was less expecting than hoping for it,” he answered, softly tugging some locks behind her ear before leaning down to kiss her ear lobe, “And mediocre my arse you little vixen.” “Well, I definitely considered it to be my next move, but then I thought it’s probably kind of romantic to not see each other until Dad walks me down the aisle.”

“I’ll certainly not stand in the way of this rare display of romance by Hermione Granger.” Ron winked at her as he slowly backed her into the direction of his old bed. “But if you don’t mind, I’d love to get you a parting gift before your departure.” 

*******

As Hermione lay in her bed, dressed in her most comfortable pyjamas, she finally admitted to herself why she had been against separate sleeping arrangements tonight in the first place. It was irrational and probably ridiculous considering the many days they spent apart when Hermione went to Hogwarts and Ron to Auror training, but she couldn’t quite shake off the feeling of uneasiness and unrest that settled inside her stomach.

She had gotten so used to falling asleep beside him, with his soft snoring and the warmth always radiating off him, no matter how cold of a day it was. Several night missions and other Auror assignments made Hermione miss the redhead at night, but especially today, with the excitement about tomorrow keeping her wide awake, she found it next to impossible to fall asleep without his large, freckled hand resting on her hip.

As Hermione looked out of the window beside her old bed, preparing herself to count herself to sleep with the stars she could make out from here, a small ball of light reflected in the glass and illuminated the room.

And she really didn’t need to turn around to see who just apparated inside her bedroom. That’s why she just closed her eyes, not being able to stop her face to split into a wide smile when Ron climbed into bed beside her and draping an arm around her middle, pulling her close.

For some silly reason, Ron showing up tonight made her feel so incredibly happy that she couldn’t stop the tears welling up in her eyes. Enjoying his warmth and leanness and the hot breath at the back of her neck, she marvelled at the simple fact that Ron Weasley illuminated her life in every way possible.

“I love you.”

“I love you.” 

[unspecified-trash]

Reunion

This is my first time writing a fic, and I don’t plan on making it a regular occurrence; but I couldn’t get the idea of Jesse finally meeting his uncles out of my head so I wrote it.

Fandom: The Shadowhunter Chronicles / The Last Hours

Character: Jesse Blackthorn

Read it on AO3 if you want

Jesse had never felt this nervous before. Sure he had been frightened when he saw Lucie in the Thames that day and was terrified after discovering she intended to bring him back to life, but both those occasions he had been scared for her, not for himself. This was the first time Jesse had ever felt truly afraid for himself.

“What if they hate me, Grace?” Jesse whispered.

Grace had sent a message the previous day to his two uncles, Gideon and Gabriel Lightwood, that she had to meet with them and their families urgently, preferably at Gabriel’s home in London. In the letter, she explained a wish to make amends for both her their mother’s and Grace’s hateful actions towards the Lightwoods. However, they did not know that thanks to Grace and Lucie Herondale, Jesse had been revived after 6 years and intended to finally meet his family. Truthfully no one but the three of them knew he was alive, but tomorrow that would change.

“What if they turn me away and demand I never return? I wouldn’t blame them after all our family has put them through.” He confessed.

“Why would they hate you for any of that Jess?” she replied. “You haven’t done anything wrong. It is me who needs to worry about being turned away. They have no reason not to love you, and from what I was able to gather from Christopher regarding your death, it seems that they did. They mourned you and wished to meet you as well. I promise you, it will be alright big brother.”

Grace’s reassurance had allowed him to sleep relatively soundly through the night. How odd it was to sleep again. He was so used to roaming around at night and simply not existing during the day, that it felt strange and frankly a bit scary to lay down in a bed again and let sleep overcome him. Nonetheless, Jesse felt mostly rested when he awoke, but the terror inside him hadn’t settled. He had only a few bites of his breakfast and dressed in a hurry. He had spent hours the previous night deciding which of his new suits to wear. He opted for a black tailcoat, a dark green vest and pinstriped trousers. The vest had been a gift from Lucie which automatically made it his favourite.

Lucie had asked if Jesse wished for her to accompany him to meet this family, but he had refused, knowing he had to face them by himself. However, he did tell her that he would be happy for her to join in telling the story of his revival when they all went to the Institute for lunch; an event that Lucie was organising.

Once he was ready Jesse went outside and wait for the carriage. Since the Blackthorns didn’t have their own (yet), Uncle Gabriel had agreed to send his own to pick Grace up.

He couldn’t help but worry again about what the Lightwoods would think. He had a vague memory of meeting his uncle Gideon when he was ten and insisting he would become a shadowhunter. Uncle Gideon had told him that he wanted to meet Jesse, but that was fifteen years ago, and his uncle could have easily changed his mind. He never met his Uncle Gabriel, and therefore had no prior knowledge on what to expect from him.

He was shaken from his thoughts with the sound of the door closing behind him. Grace descended the front steps of Chiswick wearing a simple charcoal teagown and coat. By then the carriage had arrived outside the gates and was waiting for them. Jesse helped his sister board the carriage then climbed in himself. He sat across from sister but refused to look at her. Instead, he propped his elbow under his chin and gazed out the window, returning to his troubles. Grace seemed to understandthat no amount of reassurance could stop Jesse from worrying now, and simply reached her hand across and held his. Jesse gave her her hand a small squeeze but didn’t take his eyes off the changing scenery outside.

Winter was coming to a close now. The snow plaguing the roads was beginning to melt and people were ditching their winter coats for thinner jackets, but Jesse still shivered. It was incredible feeling the cold again. After not feeling much of anything for six years. Before he could bask any more the carriage came to a stop and the driver announced their arrival.

Jesse turned to Grace with fear in his eyes. ‘This is it’ he thought. He would finally know his family, for better or worse. The carriage door opened to reveal the steps of the Lightwood home and Jesse helped her exit. However, he could not muster up the strength to stand up himself and leave the carriage.

“I can’t do this” he croaked.

“Yes, you can Jesse,” Grace assured. “I will be right here with you, and they will love you. I promise.”

He gave her a small nod, but neither the fear in his eyes nor the sickly feeling in his stomach wavered.

Last night they had agreed that it should be Grace who knocks on the door, as it was her who requested the meeting. As Grace approached the door, Jesse stayed a few feet back and waited. All of his fears came back to him and swirled around his head. He remembered the awful stories Tatiana would tell to him when he was young, convincing him his family was evil, that they had murdered his father in cold blood. Although Jesse knew that his mother’s claims were false, he couldn’t help but fear for his life. He was terrified his uncles would want to kill him for all his mother had done to them. As he heard grace knock the door he considered making a run for it, but alas it was too late.

The door swung open to reveal a man with brown hair, an angular face and bright green eyes like his own. Gabriel Lightwood. Behind him stood a slightly shorter man. He had sandy hair and greyish-green eyes. Jesse recognised him as his Uncle Gideon and noticed he had not changed much despite not having seen him for the better part of fifteen years.

The two men had not had the chance to acknowledge him yet, as Grace immediately captured them in an earnest stare. However, after a moment, Grace stepped to the side to reveal Jesse to his Uncles.

For ten seconds all any of them could do was stare. Jesse could see feel their eyes boring into him as the emotions passed through his uncles’ expressions; recognition, sadness, confusion and fear. Finally, they both seemed to settle on disbelief.

Uncle Gideon’s eyes were wide as he whispered. “Jesse?”

His knees wobbled and Gideon steadied himself using the door frame as Gabriel continued to stare. Before anyone said anything else Jesse was suddenly enveloped in his uncle’s arms. He could something warm and wet dripping onto his shoulder. The hug became tighter as Jesse felt another set of arms wrap around him. In that moment, Jesse fully realized that he was alive again. His mother’s lies would never plague him and Grace again and he would never again have to wander the nights alone in the forest. He can finally know his family and start the life he never got the chance to live. Jesse wrapped his arms around his uncles and let the tears fall.

 After a few minutes Aunt Cecily came to the door and insisted everyone come inside to escape the cold. Jesse and Grace were lead to the living room where the rest of the Lightwoods waited.

Aunt Sophie sat on a plush chair holding who Jesse presumed to be his youngest cousin, Alex. On the sofa, Thomas was sitting next to Christopher, who was wearing clean clothes with no scorch marks. Unbeknownst to them, Jesse had accompanied Lucie to many excursions with the Merry Thieves while he was still a ghost. Therefore Jesse knew that Christopher wearing fresh clothes was a rare occurrence, and wondered if it had anything to do with Grace’s presence. Hovering over Christopher was Anna, wearing a handsome blue suit and her red necklace was hanging from her throat.

All eyes in the room turned to look at the new arrivals, and Jesse began to feel nervous again. He looked to either side of him where his uncles were standing and they both smiled and nodded, eyes still watery, urging him to introduce himself. He took a deep breath and turned back to his family.

“Hello,” he started, feeling ridiculous. “My name is Jesse, and I am your cousin. I know this may all seem crazy, and it is, but I’ve been waiting to meet you all for twenty-five years, so here I am.”

There were many questions, most of which he refused to answer until they got to the Institute and could include Lucie in the conversation as well. There were even more hugs and tears,  but for the first time in his life, Jesse Blackthorn felt like he was finally going to live the life he had always wanted.

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Let me know what you think!

[im-lad-ris]

The Fall: Haldir X Female! Reader

Prompt: "I’m so happy you’re back!! 😌❤️ I missed you tbh haha. Could you do a Haldir x reader? Maybe where reader is from our world? 👀"

Submitted by: Anonymous

Words: 1626

A/N: Hey guys! First story posted since the end of my hiatus, and it's for my main mans Haldir. For the anon, I wasnt sure how old you wanted to reader to be, but I took some creative liberty! I also havent edited yet but will go through it and do so soon.

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The day you had fallen into Middle Earth you had been a mere child, only ten in human years, unaware of the dangers of the new world you now found yourself living in.

You only remembered falling, and hitting the ground so hard your skull rattled and your teeth gnashed together. Your ears were ringing, and when you had gone to cover them you had realized that they were pointed, which was definitely not how they were shaped yesterday. You had panicked, screamed, cried for your parents, but you would realize that they were not coming for you here, wherever the "here" was.

You would be found within 3 days, having wandered through forests and over plains, by a group of elven rangers.

The leader had dismounted his horse and had kneeled next to you, offering you kind words and compassion. He introduced himself as Lord Elrond, an elf lord who looked over a place called Imladris.

He had asked you why an elven child was wandering the wilderness. When you admitted that you didnt know where you were, and argued that you weren't an elf, Elrond wasnt sure what to make of you.

After this first encounter, you would be invited to stay at Lord Elronds home. It was beautiful, and you were stunned that such a place could have possibly existed.

After several weeks had passed, Elrond would take you to a place called Lothlórien. The sky was blocked out by canopies, and the trees sprawled into the sky above you, a forest of skyscrapers.

You would meet a woman named Galadriel and a wizard named Gandalf, although everyone called him Mithrandir instead. After hours of discussion, it was decided that you were not of Middle-Earth and that you would be placed under Elronds care. Despite this, nobody was quite sure why you were an elf or how you had fallen, but it appeared you were here to stay.

It was in Lothlorien that you met Haldir. He was older than you, but he had an aura about him that drew you to him. You became fast friends, and you began to harbor a small crush towards him. Before you left for Imladris once more, he had smiled and gifted you your first bow.

After returning home with your now adoptive father Elrond, Haldir and you continued to exchange letters and gifts, all the while you grew up under your new siblings. You loved Arwen, and the twins, Elrohir and Elladan, and they made sure you grew up as happy as you could be.

Besides this, you eventually realized that time for elves was strange. Although you had now spent almost a millennium and a half with you new family, you barely looked a day over twenty. Throughout your time with your adoptive father and siblings, you took pride in learning archery and sword fighting, although you yearned to return to Earth, and your birth parents, once more. However, as you aged you learned to appreciate the family you now had, and the skills and lessons they had taught to you.

Of course, your letters with Haldir had never stopped. He was your pen pal and confidant, and although the years had turned him stoic and somewhat harsh, he was still the man you remembered when you were little. After a millennium of letters you had finally gotten the nerve to tell him your true feelings for him, that you loved him more than than the sun loves the moon.

After a month of no returned letter, you became melancholic, embarrassed that you had even said anything in the first place. However, the next day Haldir had appeared at the gates of Imladris. When he found you in the gardens, he had simply caressed your cheek and vowed he would protect you even if it cost his life. Thus began your courtship. One that spanned between hundreds of miles and still meant everything. Your father had approved almost immediately, and was more than willing to create opportunities for you two to see each other.

-----

You were currently sat in the Council of Elrond and were on the verge of ripping someones head off. These buffoons would not stop arguing, and it was making you angrier by the second. Did they not see that the longer they sat here and hurled insults, the more danger Middle-Earth would be in?

"I will take it" a small voice said. Your head snapped up and looked upon the hobbit, Frodo, who had brought that accursed ring here. Frodo tried to speak out once more, but the noise from the others did not die down and you gritted your teeth before standing up.

"QUIET!" you yelled into the crowd, which surprisingly cause the group of arguing council members to all shut their mouths. You gestured to Frodo, who proceeded to walk towards the group.

 "I will take the Ring to Mordor. Though-- I do not know the way." The hobbit said, his eyes passing over every face in the room.

Mithrandir smiled before he passed behind Frodo, "l will help you bear this burden, Frodo Baggins, so long as it is yours to bear."

"Ada.." You started as you glanced behind you towards your father, who simply nodded, his way of telling you he approved. You nodded back at him, a smile on your face, before you turned back to face Frodo.

"As will I, Frodo" you said as you walked behind him, placing your hand on his shoulder.

After you stepped forward, the heir of Gondor, Aragorn, the woodland prince Legolas, Gimli, Boromir, and three other hobbits, who appeared out of bushes, all joined your group.

"Ten companions... So be it! You shall be the Fellowship of the Ring!" Your father proclaimed as you all stood together, you looked at those around you and had the distinct feeling only some would make it out of this adventure alive.

-----

"By nightfall these hills will be swarming with orcs! We must reach the Woods of Lothlórien. Come Y/N, Boromir, Legolas, Gimli, get them up." Aragorns voice caused you to jump before you scrambled to lift Merry and Pippin off the floor.

Mithrandir had fallen to a Balrog, but you had no time to mourn. You felt as if water was in your lungs, but you had no time to empty them, you had to move.

By the time the Fellowship reached the outskirts of Lothlórien, you could breathe again but the gloom you felt would not dissipate. You heard Gimli mentioning something about a sorceress, but you couldnt bring yourself to chuckle at his reference to Galadriel. However, you saw movement out of the corner of your eye, and decided to silently move to the back of the group, your hand slowly moving to the hilt of your blade.

"Well, here is one dwarf she won't ensnare so easily. I have the eyes of a hawk and the ears of a fox!" Gimli said, prideful as always, before a notched arrow appeared in front on his face. You barely resisted the urge to chuckle.

"The dwarf breathes so loud we could have shot him in the dark." A voice said, and you couldnt help the way your breath hitched. Of course Haldir was patrolling, he was the Marchwarden.

How long had it been since you had held him? How long since you had last heard his voice? Surely not long, but it felt like it had been a lifetime. You couldnt resist the urge to walk forwards him, stepping around Aragorn towards a grumpy looking Gimli. You placed your fingers upon Haldirs arrow, pushing it towards the ground before you dared to meet his eyes.

"I would appreciate if you did not shoot the dwarf, Haldir o Lórien... Meleth nin" your hand came up to caress his cheek as you pushed a lock of his hair behind his ear. Without warning, you found yourself pulled into a kiss. You recovered from the shock and smiled against his lips, slowly wrapping your arms around his neck.

When you finally pulled away, your heart felt lighter and your lips were still tingly. You smiled you again before you embraced Haldir in a hug, your face buried in the crook of his neck.

"What just happened?" You heard Pippin ask, and you chuckled as you pulled away from Haldir, turning to face the Fellowship as you intertwined your fingers with his.

"Meet my betrothed, the Marchwarden of Lothlórien, Haldir" you chimed in, a smile on your face.

"You have interesting traveling companions, meleth nin" Haldir said, his hand squeezing yours as he looked over the ragtag group you had been traveling with.

"Haldir, as much as I'd love to stay here and enjoy this moment, we must see Galadriel... we have.. we lost Gandalf, but we must push on" you said, your voice almost cracking as you recounted what had happened in the mines for your betrothed. You held back the tears that threatened to leak from your eyes, you had to be strong.

When you were finished with your tale, Haldir nodded before he spoke, "Follow me"

As the group moved through the trees further into Lothlórien, Haldir squeezed your hand once more before leaning to whisper in your ear, "Galadriel has agreed to see us married before you continue... you know how much I love you, and even as you go on this journey, I want you to be mine, now and always."

You smiled and nodded at him. Although you were sad at the loss of Gandalf, you loved Haldir, and you would gladly marry him no matter the circumstances. He was yours, and you were his, and soon you would belong to each other for the rest of your days.

-----

Ada - Father

Meleth Nin (Or Nin Meleth) - My love

Haldir o Lórien - Haldir of Lòrien

[somanylivestochoose]

Healing Loss

Wanted to try my hand at a Eomer X Lothiriel Meet

Chapter 1: Passing Corridors 

Lothíriel

I felt exhausted for I have not slept since Mordor’s army first arrived at Minas Tirith. That fear chocked the air and I focused on ensuring the House of Healing was set up for those who needed help.  

I had seen the army that was sent to destroy the world of men, the chance of survival was none. But alas the men of Rohan had come and saved us, along with our crowned king.

King.

My lips pulled into a smile at the thought. I had grown up hearing about Gondor’s heir and now he has come to regain his thrown. My body shuttered remembering my uncle Denethor, one death I do not morn.

Who I do mourn for is the hundreds of men, women and children who have been slain.

But as of right now I don’t have time to mourn, as a lead healer in the House of Healing my duty is to try to save those who still draw breath. We have thousands to tend to from the Battle of Pelennor and now we also have the men who have just arrived from the battle of the Black Gate.

There are limbs that are broken, limbs cut off, limbs needing to be cut off, stitches to be sewn…

Turning a corner too quickly I slam into someone, their hands quickly moving to my arms keeping me from falling to the floor.

A quick glance at his armor told me he was a rider from Rohan.

“My apologies, I was not watching where I was going.” The man said, my eyes moving to his face.

His blond hair and dirt covered face made it near impossible to see him. Yet even despite the signs of war on him, I couldn’t help the thought that he was one of the most attractive men I have seen. The strength in his shoulders and brightness of his blue eyes. I tried to look at his armor to see his station in the Rohirrim but it was near impossible with the blood and dirt from battle.

Realizing I haven’t said anything I waved my hand to dismiss his apology. “It was my fault, I shouldn’t have been running. Are you looking for your fellow countryman?” He gave a nod, his face tight with stress and pain. “They are in the other wing, we are keeping them together for comradery and access for your new king.”

Something flashed across his face but he was quick to hide it. Mentally I cursed myself, they had lost their king a few days ago and I had casually mentioned their new king. A painful memory of the loss they have suffered.

He cleared his throat. “Do you know how they are?”

It was my turn to nod. My hands wiping themselves on a rag I had dangling from my dress. “They are doing well, I have heard the strength of Rohan and now I see it your countryman. They were losses but we have been able to save many. Many will be able to go home when your Lord Éomer goes back but some will have a long recovery.”

The man gave a breath of relief, his shoulder’s sagging slightly.

Noticing blood coming from his neck my hands went up pulling his tunic showing me a bandage wrapped around his neck soaked with blood.

He flinched pulling himself away from my touch. “I’m fine.”

I rolled my eyes, I’ll never get over soldiers who think that any wound is not important.

“Sit, I can have it cleaned and stitched quickly.” I motioned to another healer for a bowl of hot water.

He shook his head and I pushed him not so gently onto a bench, the man giving a reluctant sigh once his body took a rest. “I’m sure you have more important patients, you were running.”

He didn’t fight me as I took off the bandage getting a better look at his wound, the bandage making a light thump from the blood when it dropped on the table. Lightly, I pulled his tunic away from the wound giving me better access. It wasn’t too deep, but went the entire length of his neck most likely from a spear.

“You’re now my patient.” My handmaid and fellow healer Gylious dropped off a warm bowl with herbs already steeped in it. I pulled out a clean bandage from my pouch to dip into the water.

The tall man in front of me leaned back against the wall watching me carefully. “If you don’t have a patient why were you running.”

Biting my lip, I took the wet cloth and slowly began to clean his wound, taking away the blood and dirt. “I was coming back from a surgery, didn’t go well.”  His head tilted while I continued cleaning the wound, his eyes asking to know what happened. No, they weren’t asking, they were demanding me to tell. “Small child, attacked by a warg during the battle he had low chances of surviving but it doesn’t make it any easier.”

A moment of silence went between us, the grief of war is a heavy feeling. The cloth and once clean water bowl now turned red from blood I had cleaned off him. The silence allowed the losses of war to  begin to strangle me.

“What’s Rohan like?” I needed the sound of conversation, a break from the screaming of men and women and of the fight to keep them in the land of living. And this attractive man could give me it. “I hear the land of the horse lords is a sea of grass for miles and the fields are filled with the world’s strongest and fairest horses.”

The questions worked as a soft smile crossed his face lifting his blue eyes that reminded me of the oceans around Dol Amroth.

“Rohan has fields of grass that stretch as far at the eye can see, Ederas gleams on top of mountain acting like a beacon when you ride home. There is no greater sight then the golden hall of the Meduseld beckoning you home. The land makes you free and the mountains protected.” He replied relaxed thinking about his home.

Picking up a needle and thread I quickly disinfect and line it up to the wound. “And the famous horses of the horse lords?”

He didn’t flitch when the needle went through, the thread pulling his skin together to close the skin. “They are strong, true beasts of grace and power. Our horses are descendants of the Maeras they take after their strength and grace, though the true blooded Maeras run wild in Rohan.”

I couldn’t help my curiosity of Rohan from hearing about their horses and land but never seeing it. “Do you have one of the Maeras?”

He let out a soft chuckle as I continued stitching. “No, I have an offspring of one who is part, Firefoot but when I get back to Rohan and retire him from war I may be blessed to ride a Maeras now.”

“Blessed? Are they particular about who rides them?” I gave the final stitch to tie off.

He nodded, a forced smile on his face. “They only allow certain men on their back.”

Trying to lighten whatever set his mood back I took a clean bandage and started wrapping it around the wound as I gave him a cheeky look. “Would they let me on their back? I’m a decent rider and I’ll give them lots of treats.”

The Rohirrim now let out a laugh, one that is light and brightened his face from any grief he carried. “Now why didn’t I think about trying that.”

Chuckling with a shrug I tie off the bandage. “Sometimes you need another perspective.”

Feeling someone walk up I turn to my handmaiden Gylious who bowed to us. “Apologies, but your brother is looking for you.”

“Thank you Gylious.” She bowed her head and departed letting me finish up, my hands fixing his tunic then dropped to clean up the mess. “Make sure to keep it clean, if you have any discomfort please come find me.”

The Rohirrim stood up from the table rolling his neck, his height making me feel short even though I was taller for most women in Gondor. “No need to worry, I have had many wounds in the past I know how to clean them.”

I hummed giving him a disapproving look. “Says the same man who told me not to worry about that wound on your neck?”

He laughed again making me smile, in the past week or hell months I could list the times I heard a real laugh. Maybe there will be joy after the war. “I suppose your right my lady, I will take your words with care. Thank you for looking after my men and for stitching me up.”

Taking my hand, he kissed the back of hand, the kiss giving a tingling sensation where his lips met. “Good day, my lady.”

Bowing my head, I turn from him, heading to where one of my brothers would be.

Stopping my feet, I turning focusing on the man who was walking away. “Rohirrim?” The man stopped glancing back over his shoulder to me. “Thank you for coming to our aid and I’m sorry for the price you have had to suffer for doing so.”

He bowed his head. “It was a price worth paying my lady.”

Giving him another smile, I turned back to where I needed to go, the talk with the Rohirrim made my heart feel lighter from the grief that tries to pull me into despair.

Seeing a familiar figure with black hair and tanner skin than those around us I found myself running to get to them as fast as I could.

“Erchirion!” My older brother turned in time when I launched myself into him, his arms coming around me to catch me in a hug. “I heard you were alright and well but seeing it is another. How are you, are you okay?”

He squeezed me then let me down, the second my feet hit the ground I began to look him over checking for anything. Erchirion took my hands holding them, “I am fine little swan, it’s good to see you well, I have been worried about you. When was the last time you slept?”

His hand cupped my check, his thumb brushing under my eyes where my dark shadows are. “It doesn’t matter, I’ll sleep when I can.”

Erchirion looked softly at me. He is one of my older brothers and one I was most close with growing up between my other two. “You should come home tonight for supper and bed.”

My face winced thinking about a family dinner. “Will he be there?”

Erchirion’s face soften and he squeezed my hand. “Father loves you little swan… Alright if not for dinner then at least to sleep okay? You need it Lothí.”

Sighing I looked around at the scenes around us. Leaning against my brother I shake my head wanting nothing more than a night with my brothers and my bed but I couldn’t. “No, there is so much work to be done and we lost healers during the battle. Go, be merry and I’ll catch you soon, okay?”

He sighed leaning forward to kiss my forehead. “Okay, but tomorrow night I’ll drag you back for a full meal and night sleep. I love you.”

“Love you too.” I gave him a hug, taking it longer than usual needing to feel that he is okay and not on a bed in the house or on a pyre to be burned. “Go, I’m sure Amrothos is barrel deep by now.”

My older brother chuckled letting me go. “Aye, see you tomorrow little swan.”

He walked away and I looked around at the organized chaos, my bones felt ready to give at any moment. Maybe if this is a calm night I will try to go home for a real night of sleep and not in a chair.

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13796146/1/Healing-Loss 

[sanderssidesfanfiction]

If There’s a Place I Could Be - Chapter Sixteen

If There’s a Place I Could Be Tag

December 31st, 1999

Emile was excited. It was the final minutes before midnight, before an entire new millennium started. Not many people would get to say they lived through that and remembered it, one day.

As the minutes turned into seconds, Emile and his family watched the ball get ready to drop in Times Square on TV. He couldn’t imagine what sorts of things would happen not only in the new year, but in the whole of the two-thousands. He knew he was going off to college in the fall of two thousand-and that was a weird thought, not have nineteen in front of the number-but there was so much he didn’t know about the future. And while that scared him a little, he was also incredibly excited.

When the ball dropped and his whole family cheered, Emile grinned. He couldn’t imagine what he’d be doing next year today, but he hoped it was something great.

  December 31st, 2000

Emile drove into the complex’s parking lot with a smile on his face. He had told Remy that he would be coming back the second of January, but he had been planning to surprise Remy by coming home a little early. His parents had understood and let him go on the condition that he call them the morning of the first. The rest of his family griped a little but still let him go with minimal fuss.

Getting out of his car and grabbing his things from the backseat, he climbed the stairs to their apartment and knocked on the door. He could hear footsteps, and then the light by the peephole dimmed, and the door was opened by a very confused Remy. “Emile? You weren’t supposed to be back for another two days!”

“Yeah, well, I thought I’d surprise you, seeing as how it was your birthday and all. Didn’t want you to spend it alone,” Emile said, walking in and putting his stuff down in his room. He walked back out and noticed the TV along with the VHS player. “I was wondering if that was gonna be here or not.”

“Yeah, well, no point in buying you cartoons you can’t watch,” Remy said with a shrug. “I really like the jacket you got me.”

Emile’s eyebrows shot up. “You went to the shelter?”

“Wound up there after a bit of a walk,” Remy said with a shrug. “Helped with the lunch rush. Gave me something to do, and let me stop thinking about other things. Now, back to the original question: why are you here?”

“Like I told you, it’s your birthday, I didn’t want you to be on your own on your birthday, that’s just no fun!” Emile exclaimed.

“So you...drove two hours just to make sure I wouldn’t be alone?” Remy asked, eyebrows furrowing together.

“Yep!” Emile chirped. “Anything you want to do to celebrate? We could eat out for dinner tonight, I have a little spare cash.”

“No, no, hold up,” Remy said, holding up a hand to stop Emile from continuing to talk. “You. Drove two full hours this morning just so I wouldn’t be alone all day?”

“Technically it was more like two and a half. Traffic was killer,” Emile said with a shrug. “Why, is that a big deal?”

“Is it a big deal?” Remy repeated dumbly. “You’re giving up time with your family to be with me!”

“Yeah, I know,” Emile said. “I made the decision, Rem.”

“But...why? You don’t exactly get to see your family often,” Remy said.

“Yeah, and your birthday only happens once a year,” Emile said. “I wanted to make sure you had a happy nineteen.”

“...Am I really that important to you? That you’d give up more time with your parents just to celebrate my birthday?” Remy asked, his voice soft and small.

“Of course, Remy,” Emile said. “Of course you’re that important, you’re my best friend, and there’s no one I’d rather spend New Year’s Eve with.”

Remy walked over and hugged Emile tight. Slowly, Emile brought his hands up to hug Remy back. Hugs from Remy were special things, not to be taken lightly and rarely given out. But he always put his all into them. Squeezing tight, but not so tight that Emile couldn’t breathe. Sometimes he’d rest his head on Emile’s shoulder, and sometimes he’d whisper something he wanted to say to Emile, but was too scared to say aloud. “I love you,” Remy whispered. “I don’t know how else to say that. Not in a, ‘I’d date you’ way, you know? More in a...‘you’re my best friend and if anything happened to you I’d be devastated’ sort of way.”

Emile smiled and a chuckle slipped out. “I love you too, Remy.”

Remy held Emile tighter and Emile savored the sensation until Remy’s grip went lax, and they parted. Emile smiled softly at Remy, who was swiping the tears out of his eyes. “So, my question still stands: do you want to do anything for your birthday?”

Remy shrugged. “I guess dinner would be nice, yeah.”

“Then we’ll have dinner,” Emile said with a smile. “Anything you want to do until then? Do you have to work?”

“No, I don’t have to work, I’m not on Starbucks’ schedule today and the local shop is closed,” Remy said softly.

“Okay, that gives us the afternoon to do whatever you want,” Emile said.

Remy’s head dropped towards the ground, and Emile could tell he was choking back more tears when he asked, “Emile, I know you don’t want to be my therapist...but can I vent for a second?”

“Of course,” Emile said, putting a hand on Remy’s shoulder. “What’s wrong?”

“Toby...” Remy made a choked sound. “Toby doesn’t have our address. He doesn’t have my phone number. And I...I don’t have his. His ex-girlfriend apparently stalked him and he had to change it, and I obviously was not welcome back home at Christmas, so I couldn’t talk to him about that then...he’s gone, Emile. I lost all contact with him. I wanted to at least call and tell him Merry Christmas, but I didn’t get to, and I know that he doesn’t know where I am, but I was still hoping that somehow...somehow, he’d find out, and he’d be able to...to wish me a happy...birthday...but...” Remy was outright crying now, albeit trying to muffle the sounds. “But he can’t. And...and I don’t know what I’m going to do, Emile. We were never the closest brothers in the world, but he cared about me, he was my best friend, and...and I miss him...”

“Aw, Rem...” Emile bit his lip. “Is it okay if I hug you?”

Remy nodded and Emile hugged him fiercely. “This is not your fault,” Emile said with certainty. “And it hurts, and I know that the pain you’re going through must be overwhelming. It really, really sucks. But you know what? I’m sure that Toby is out there, somewhere, wishing you a Happy Birthday anyway. Even if he can’t call, and he can’t write. He knows it’s your birthday, and I bet he’s trying to psychically send good vibes your way.” Remy laughed at that, and Emile smiled. “You’ll be okay, Rem. It’ll hurt, but you’ll get through it. You’re impossibly strong.”

Remy nodded into Emile’s shoulder, and Emile just sighed into Remy’s. “You can hug me as long as you need, I really don’t mind,” he said softly.

They stayed like that for a long while, Emile hugging Remy as Remy quietly cried. He was mourning a loss, and Emile understood that. Remy would need time. And occasionally, this might resurface and he might get hurt again. But Emile swore that he would be there to help Remy as much as he could. After all, isn’t that what best friends did? They helped each other when they were hurt, they let each other cry, they shared secrets and ambitions and plans for the future. And while this may have changed Remy’s plans, Emile was certain that Remy could get through it.

When Remy finally whimpered out a, “I feel better now,” Emile let his hands drop and took a step back. Remy wiped at his eyes and heaved a sigh, but he seemed a lot more level. “Thanks, Emile,” Remy murmured. “I didn’t expect this to have as much of an impact on me as it did, but...”

“Hey, you’re allowed to feel what you feel, and however much you feel that is a valid feeling,” Emile said. “You’re gonna be okay, but it’s all right if you’re not okay right this minute.”

“You sure?” Remy asked uncertainly. “It’s really okay to...not be okay?”

“Yeah,” Emile said. “It takes a while to feel okay sometimes. That’s normal.”

Remy sniffled and nodded. “Okay then. If it’s...if you don’t mind, I’m gonna...uh, take a nap, I think. Just sleep some of the exhaustion off.”

“Yeah, knock yourself out,” Emile said with a smile.

Remy groaned. “That was terrible, Emile,” he grumbled, heading to his room.

Emile just laughed. “I’ll be watching She-Ra if you need me.”

Remy grunted and closed the door to his bedroom, and Emile grabbed his VHS tapes, putting one of them in the player and bouncing excitedly as it began to play the opening.

When two episodes had gone by, and Emile had seen neither hide nor hair from Remy, he knocked on Remy’s door. “Rem? You up?” He waited a minute, then knocked again. “Remy, can I come in?”

There was shuffling, and then the door opened an inch, Remy rubbing his eyes on the other side. “I was sleeping,” he grumbled.

“Yeah, it’s been an hour,” Emile said. “Your sleep schedule is already getting messed up by me letting you sleep that long.”

Remy grumbled again. “Want to sleep more.”

“Well, you can’t do that, but if you want, I have some novels I got at Christmas, you could go through those and figure out what you like?” Emile offered.

Remy grunted but left his room, which Emile counted as a win. He picked up the novels he had placed in his own bedroom and brought them out for Remy to inspect. “You can have your first choice, just don’t spoil anything for me.”

Picking a random book from Emile’s hands, Remy slumped to the floor and started to read. Emile rolled his eyes fondly and grabbed his own book to read, musing that they needed to invest in at the very least two chairs in terms of furniture.

They must have read for several hours, because when Emile came back to the world around them after finishing the novel, the sun was setting. Remy was still engrossed in the book he had picked out, and Emile lightly nudged Remy’s foot with his own. Remy quirked an eyebrow in silent question, glancing up from the book in his hands.

“Want to go get dinner now?” Emile asked. “Sun’s setting.”

“It’s winter, the sun sets at four in the afternoon.” A beat. “Sure, why not.”

“We don’t have to eat it right away,” Emile pointed out as they got ready. “We could get take-out.”

“Nah, if we’re gonna eat out we may as well actually eat out, as in, at the restaurant, you know?” Remy said.

“Okay,” Emile said. “Anywhere in particular you’d want to eat? Considering that lots of places would be closed on New Year’s Eve.”

Remy shrugged. “I know places that aren’t bars but have bars will be open,” he offered.

“What sort of places like that are there around here?” Emile asked.

Remy shrugged. “I’m not sure. We could always just drive around and look? I’ll help you with gas money in return for that.”

Emile hesitated. He didn’t want to just drive around for no apparent reason, but if Remy would pay for gas money... “Okay, fine, we can figure out a place to go by driving around,” Emile said, grabbing his car keys.

Remy hummed and paused. “Actually...”

“Actually?” Emile asked.

“I mean, we know the shelter’s going to be open, right? And the food there is edible, and the workers get to eat after they’ve helped with dinner,” Remy said.

“Are you suggesting that you want to volunteer at the shelter on your birthday, when you could be doing absolutely anything else?” Emile asked in surprise.

“It’ll give me a distraction,” Remy said. “Better than most things would. And I’d still get to talk to you, and we’d get to eat, and I’d feel a little accomplished for doing something today.” He paused. “Is that weird?”

“No, no, it’s not weird,” Emile rushed to assure him. “It didn’t seem like something you’d want to do on your birthday, but if you want to do that we can walk to the shelter and help out.”

“Cool,” Remy said. “I was wondering what it might be like to help alongside you, instead of when you’re not around, and this solves that mystery quicker, too.”

“Yeah,” Emile agreed. Inwardly, he felt a swell of affection for Remy. He was starting to learn how to care about other people, outside his circle. Even if it wasn’t often, even if it was about him and his questions, he was learning. And Emile was incredibly proud of him for that.

[middleinthenight21]

One by one

summary:   After the defeat of the Teen Titans, Raven agrees to lead the League of Shadows alongside Damian, but she must face her own fears and earn a place among the assassins. AU JUSTICE LEAGUE DARK: APOKOLIPS WAR SPOILERS

Rated M (Blood, intense violence, sexual themes and strong languague)

Disclaimer: Everything belongs to DC COMICS

PREFACE

The pain seemed like a steel stake that merged with her soul, penetrating her bones and wounding the blood vessels, touching the correct points and it would take a long time to rip it from her veins. Raven had suffered for whole days, it hurt so much that tears are not enough, although she knows that she must be strong, she cannot avoid being overwhelmed.

Conner looks up, his eyes that once were merry and rogue are now two empty sockets. The surviving Titans are gathered at the entrance to the island, away from the bloodshed, but their minds travel to painful places.

The cost of this war was high; it had taken Kory, Garfield, Wally, Roy, all her friends, her family. She no longer has the energy to speak, smile and wish for a better tomorrow; nothing would be the same anymore.

Her mind flies like a butterfly to Richard Grayson, her mentor and one of the best men she had ever known, he was one of the fallen. If he were here, he would know how to turn off the silence of death. He would guide them as always and take them away from the pain as he could. She wants to see him one last time and say goodbye accordingly, share even a moment with her friends, she would tell Kory that she was like a mother to her and she would never forget her, she represented a beacon of light in the dark, but she knows the immense love Kory had for Dick and she does not want to see the suffering on their faces when she finds out about the death of her partner. One of her parts thinks that perhaps it is better that both were dead, it avoided that they will mourn the death of the other, at least death is a simple thing and they could rest.

If there is something called heaven, she is sure that her friends would be there, they got the simple part. Raven knows that she will not go to heaven, it is not made for the daughters of demons, but she would be happy because somewhere they would be happy and reunited, although she would never see them again.

She wonders because of all of them she is who survived, she did not deserve it. Others think the same.

Donna hugs her knees, looks like a little girl holding on to a stuffed animal. Her hair is covered in a layer of dirt and debris, her uniform has cuts and her shoulder is hurt. A stab so deep that it reveals the bone, they had washed her, and Raven wanted to heal her, but she didn't let her. The young Amazon did not complain but Raven saw the pain on her face and the sweat like a film on her forehead, perhaps it is better to focus on physical suffering.

The rain creeps off the fire, nobody moves. Their bodies are wet, and it doesn't bother them, it's as if discomfort and cold are nothing.

What will they do now? They do not return to the tower for days, which before represented hope and dreams, where lonely young people found a home now it is a killing field. She had heard the story of Icarus. The young man who made wings, attached them to his back with wax and flew very close to the sun. His wings were melted by the temperature and he collapsed, his body crashed to the ground.

Perhaps they were like Icarus, their glory days were short, and the heroes had sealed their own tomb when they invaded Apokolips. Even if they managed to recover, the world would never be the same, it would never be the same.

''Your heroes were scum, a bunch of arrogant idiots, daughter. If I had freed myself...''

Turn off your voice.

How do you learn to live with the impossible? Raven would take the pain of her friends, keep it, and suffer in solitude, if they smiled back at her. Watching Jump City is painful, it reminds her of her first home, when she lost her mother in the blink of an eye and was forced to live with that mistake. She would lay down her life for Kory, offer her remaining strength and magic to win back her friends.

How would she go on? How is it possible to recover from this?

"I'll go back to Themiscyra." says Donna. Her voice is a whisper, and the rain hits her body forming rivers of dirty water. She doesn't know if there are tears running down her cheeks or it's just the rain. "I'm leaving tonight."

They don't say anything.

The news hits Raven, despite everything, she still thinks she can stay. She does not want to lose a friend as valuable as the Amazon, but she also knows that they have to leave. They cannot stay, the tower is destroyed, there is no reason to return, and at any moment the parademons can return. It pains her to think that something she has worked so hard for was dissolving in her hands.

"Go soon…." Conner sighs. The boy does not move, he is like a statue and his eyes remain focused on the fire of the bonfire being extinguished by the rain and the smoke, a curtain that is dividing his friends. "At least you'll be in a safe place, Donna." the Amazon doesn't say anything.

He watches her and, wonders what it's like to have a home. A place he could take refuge, arms outstretched to hug, familiar faces wishing for the best and healing. Conner does not have a family. He is the result of an experiment and he does not think that he considers Lex Luthor as his father and they did not know where Superman was. Raven lost her mother and dimension years ago. They have no place to go.

If her mother and Azarath were alive, she might run into her arms, hug Arella, and cry until her eyes were dry, exposing her feelings and emotions like never before.

''You were always strong, daughter. If there is someone who can recover from anything, it is you.'' Arella told her this when she broke her leg after falling from a tree and she had to resist the magical procedures of the monks. She still remembers how her mother had caressed her forehead. Wiping away the sweat, her grunts and complaints, how she placed a kiss on her forehead gently.

''You are trusting, too proud and arrogant.'' the older monk murmured when she escaped from the lessons and appeared for the exams, emerging victorious. Raven thought the monk hated her when she forced him to find her among the temples. He grumbled and growled, but she saw the fun in his emotions and had been some kind of grumpy grandfather. When Trigon razed the dimension, she only found a broken skull, it was the only thing left of the monk.

They had left her dealing with her mistakes, blaming herself for what she did as a child; feeling helpless in hell and fighting her father. The Titans were no different, her mind wonders what would have been had she escaped from Trigon after he attacked Superman, if he hadn't listened to them and traveled between dimensions, maybe the end result wouldn't hurt as much.

Her mother visits her at night.

In her dreams she is never angry at what she did. The monk still looks for her and scolds her when she runs through the squares, all the monks and the bright skies are there. Now she adds other burdens on her back, Dick's mischievous gaze, Kory's softness, Garfield's silly jokes, as Jaime loved competition and spoke with love about his younger sister.

Shit, she would miss them so much.

She had had a home and lost it, when she let her guard down and became fond again, they took it from her in the worst possible way.

Now one of her friends was leaving her.

Her insides ache and she thinks she can vomit right now. She feels the anxiety devouring her guts, the pain showing up and the idea of being alone terrifies her too much. She is afraid of being alone in a ghost town.

Jump City is her second Azarath.

In her native dimension there were no decomposed and dismembered bodies. The smell of blood did not rise, and no cries were heard from afar. There was only fire and ashes, and the voice of her father manipulating the situation, insisting that it is the best she has, now only the deaf suffering remains.

"I'll be going too." Raven gasps. Feeling the weight of loneliness and swallows hard. "I need to see if the Kent’s are okay." Conner looks up, as if expecting someone to appear in the clouds. "He would want it." he murmurs.

She looks down, her hair is wet, and a drop of rainwater descends from her head to her forehead, it is the only thing she perceives. Raven does not have a family, they do not expect her return on a protected island and there is no house in the middle of the field, there is no one waiting for her.

Everything she owned was taken from him.

Perhaps only death, loneliness and pain would be her faithful companions. She imagines herself wandering among the rubble, observing in first person what was left of the city that they protected for years, trying to find herself between the disaster and the tears. She doesn't want that.

What will become of her now?

When Damian shows up, he has civilian clothes, his hands are broken and there is a thick layer of mud that stains his clothes, his nails are a mixture of earth and blood. His face is neutral, and his eyes are hard, there is a grimace that has not left his face and she thinks it may be something permanent.

He stares spitefully at the Superman symbol on Conner's chest.

Titus follows, the Great Dane trotting alongside his companion. The formality and discipline that characterized the dog seemed attenuated, as if he knew that the situation was not good and he did not want to cause problems. She looks him in the eye, he sits next to her, does not give her second glances, there is a backpack on his back and reality hits her, like a slap.

''I'm the only thing you have, witch.''

She had barely seen Damian since the fall of the Teen Titans. He stood next to Dick's body, as if he couldn't believe it and the pain was a tsunami for a few moments, until he looked up straight at the sky. Raven had watched him harden, build a breastplate for himself, and she hasn't felt so much anger coming from the young man since he came to the Titans.

He did not let the wound in his torso heal, he treated it by himself without anesthesia and when the pain came he preferred to find out inside, she felt that she was losing him, that the person who visited her in her room in the afternoons, who drank tea in porcelain cups and worried about her safety more than anyone, was no longer here. Raven thought she had punctured his walls, that they could look each other in the eye untethered, but she knows she will no longer be able to knock him down.

Her soul is in pieces, but she prefers that he leave. That he leaves in silence because at least they would not have a farewell and she would not cry to see his back without looking back. Damian would hurt less to leave her behind, he's strong and would fight to earn a place in the world, and Raven would be left in the ruins with nothing to hold on to, there would be nothing that mattered to her. No one would cry for her.

''Even your friends are leaving you. I am the only thing you have.''

What a miserable life.

"I'm leaving." Damian declares. It was direct and cold, and Raven hopes it will be. "I leave in the morning. "

Of course.

"Good luck." Donna hugs her knees tighter. She hides her head and they can see how she trembles and is collapsing. They do nothing to comfort her and Titus is the only one sitting next to her, but he does not make any movement, he is simply there. "They'll be fine, right?" She says in a broken voice.

The sobs seem just as useless and sad as the rain. Raven thinks Donna is expressing herself for the group, as no one else had shed a single tear and they kept their pain to themselves. For a few minutes their heads are too helpless to provide encouragement.

Conner grimaces at the girl. She can feel the suffering tearing his soul, his mouth trembles in what looks like a pout and his eyes are red, threatening to shed tears, but before this happens, he puts on his glasses. One of the lenses is broken and it is not very protective or effective.

He puts on his glasses as if that will remind him of who he is, but it's more than that. He uses it so they don't see him cry.

Damian remains motionless, clenching his fists and frowning. She can see the thoughts going through his head, like a whirlpool and he doesn't let her see his emotions, he is a ghost that Raven cannot chase.

They are all ghosts that will disappear in a few hours.

***

When Donna leaves, she is silent. The girl had been crying for hours until she sighed and got up, when she managed to regain her composure, she did not look back or say goodbye, but takes off when the sun hides among the mountains.

It is as if the star knew what was happening, since it disappears on the horizon along with her friend.

Raven is left remembering the moments she shared with Donna, knowing that perhaps she will never see her again.

***

"Be well." Conner grimaces. He was about to leave as he was worried about the Kent’s. He hadn't shared much with the couple, but they were kind of parents to Superboy and he tried to keep in touch. She would like to tell him that the old couple are fine, however this is hardly possible, "We had some good years." he keeps his eyes on the stars.  "But I'm done."

Raven remains silent, clasping her hands in her lap and ducking her head. Conner is about to leave and cannot feel worse because she knows that she is staying alone. She wants to be angry with them for not considering her in their plans. Leaving her with a wound in her heart so big that she does not know how to cure the pain, but she is not like them.

She has no one and everyone needs to recover, at least until the suffering was bearable. Now they are sore, tired and want to be anywhere but here.

She's not going to blame Conner for leaving.

She wasn't going to blame them for leaving her behind.

"Will you take care of yourself?"

She raises her head in surprise at the question. Conner is looking at her through his glasses.

"I can take care of myself." But her inner strength is faltering.

Silence is a monster, he does not respond, but sighs while staring at the tower and a pout forms on his mouth, it is a trembling line "Send my good wishes to Damian." The Son of Batman disappeared with Titus after Donna left, giving the excuse that the animal wanted to eat and something inside Raven cut off at the thought that he might go. That it might be the last time she would see him. Conner's feet floated a few inches off the ground, and he looked at Raven. "Find me if you need anything ... "

She nodded.

Her hands trembled at the sides of her body, as if she had no control. It pained her to think that she was being left alone, her memory returning to the battle, to the place where she was before the world became a field of deaths and tormented souls. She thinks of Darkseid, he had inflicted more damage on them than he thought. He is probably sitting on a throne with death as his servant, millions of lives in his hands, mocking the stupidity of those who faced him, keeping them alive was a punishment.

It would have been better if she died… Dying is easy.

But her death is not easy, it would not come from anywhere and Raven always knew that she would have a long existence. Right now, she just thinks it would be better to die in battle, at least she would take Trigon with her and...

''Let me out, daughter. I can...''

"Goodbye, Rae."

Conner disappeared into the heavy clouds laden with the promise of a thunderstorm. The superhero is so dramatic that he chose to leave when the mist covers the destroyed shoreline of Jump City, when pieces of the buildings still fall to the ground and there is a concrete explosion, like a bomb.

Even the sky is sad.

Raven closes her eyes by burying her head in her hands, struggling with the situation, with the silence that is a being that tries to eat her. It is ironic to her as she described herself as someone silent, a friend of private spaces and that old comfort of when you contemplate a landscape, now her qualities are defects.

No one would save her.

She does not have her friends to sustain herself in the midst of pain and despair, there is only death and abandonment.

A lump is installed in her throat and she cannot get rid of it.

''You are weak, you filthy witch. You are just like your mother.''

''I love you to the moon and back.'' says his mother. Her mind goes back to that time when she escaped from a lesson only to chase that little cat who was stealing her lunch and the monks had scolded her. She thought she would be angry and would approve of her being punished, but she watched her with love and caressed her cheeks. ''I don't care if they tell you that you are proud, confident and highlight your flaws. You are my girl, my little bird.''

''You are the most hopeful heroine I have ever met.'' Dick smiled at her and the sun illuminated his features. A sweet softness wrapped around him as Kory joined them, the alien taking her hand. ''Don't go, stay with the Teen Titans.'' observed Dick. ''We can help you choose clothes, remodel your room and accompany you to buy those little ducks that go in the bathtub.''

None of them are here, they are just voices that would be lost over time. Raven doesn't want to forget, she has no right to recover from this.

It would have been better to die.

An arm wraps around her shoulder, she doesn't need her powers to know that it’s Damian and she finds herself burying her head in his chest, clutching her fists to his clothes, as if he is going to disappear. She doesn't want him to leave, Raven wants his heart to return, she thinks he would be better elsewhere. Her intentions were never to win with Damian, and she would give in if that implied the safety of this boy. She just wants him to be happy.

Damian lost his brother. They did not know what had happened to Batman and Gotham fell a few days ago. He has nothing.

He pressed down on her body and she could feel his jaw pressed to her head. If she lost him, she would keep this moment forever, she clinging to his arms and he wrapping his arms around her when the sky opens and reveals the stars. She wants to memorize his scent, his strength and he is a point in a story that she did not reach to be narrated; If she had been braver, she would have confessed her feelings to him before, but her life is not made for fairy tales. They are built on a darker premise.

Titus groans and rests his head on her shoulder, runs his tongue over her face and it is a relief. She will miss the animal.

What hero has a happy story?

In another reality he could be hers, or at least enter her life in a different way, even if he rejects her, she would still have him and that would be enough.

She feels his mouth open and close, not knowing what to say. She knows what he will say.

"Don't cover it with sugar, Damian."

He is silent. Raven looks up, still refusing to give up his arms and is looking into his eyes, her green eyes are looking directly at her and she can't believe that this is her end.

She would remember the green tone of his eyes, not compared to wet grass, to the water of a river, but to jade. Damian has grown in recent years; his jaw has become square and must be shaved to get a beard away from his face. His skin color has become more olive, his bones ached when he had a rapid growth and his body developed muscles in the areas closer to that of grown man.

He has changed.

"I'll go back to the League of Assassins." he frowns. "I have already spoken to Lady Shiva."

She thought it would hurt, but she couldn't imagine how much, and her fingers were loosening. Her knowing it was coming indirectly is one thing, hearing it from his lips makes it a reality and loneliness crushes her heart.

Donna is gone.

Conner disappeared into the clouds a few hours ago.

Damian was leaving her now, too.

She had to have seen the signs, maybe it was her bad judgment that convinced her that there was a remote chance that he would stay, but what for? He has nothing to fight for, they cannot remain in the tower forever.

"Oh." escapes her lips.

Suddenly she's walking away, and it may be the last time she sees him.

She wonders if Damian has no doubts. He left the League of Assassins for years and Batman does not approve of Ra's Al Ghul lifestyle, only the one he had intended for his son and instilled other values in him, he would not think well of Damian upon returning. Raven does not know what to think, the barrier could deepen between the two, the league is full of criminals. Maybe going back to the league is the only thing he had as insurance in his life, there is no Nightwing, Batman or the Teen Titans.

One part of her justifies it, but the other is terrified to discover what he could become.

"Everyone is leaving." she murmurs. She tries to keep her tone neutral, but it breaks like a tuned guitar string.

Where would she go? She doesn't have a home, can't even look at the tower without feeling devastated, overwhelmed with pain, and wouldn't be able to make it through the city on her own. Her empathic abilities would end up driving her insane, there's too much pain, the city is kindled by suffering and from a distance she distinguishes its colors.

Damian looks down and she sees the fight in his mind, she almost wants to pass a hand to smooth the wrinkle that forms between his brows.

She would miss that wrinkle.

"Come with me. "

What?

He watches her, there is a shyness sparkle in his eyes and if he had not been so close, he may not even hear it, his proposal is so fast in a thick tone that it would be confusing, but Raven heard it clearly.

She is stunned by the offer.

"Come with me. Lead the League of Assassins by my side." He was looking her in the eye now. His katana in its case, and him in a hoodie. He looks casual, as if he had never witnessed death and pain with his own eyes. "You can do it. You are a good fighter."

Hope was shining within her, Damian wanted them to go together, but she is not an assassin; she has nothing to claim among the ranks of the league.

She can't imagine leading an organization made up of assassins, but where would she go? She has nothing and nobody. She had heard that her mother had a sister, but Arella never spoke directly of her family, limiting herself to just Raven and she doubts very much that they would have survived. She doesn't want to say goodbye to Damian Wayne and watch him go off into the unknown.

Say Yes! A voice inside shouts, it’s optimistic marked by blind love and the promise of a tomorrow, perhaps not a better one, but it is still a more decent future than one of solitude and corpses. She is surprised at how idealistic she can be, even with everything that happened, she still dreamed of this boy, she still sighed because he was offering her a different life, one that would allow her to see him every day. You are not an assassin.

They are his people, not yours, a wicked voice warned her, it is like a snake poisoned with truth, more damaging than her father's words.

''Do you think you will write the tale of the witch and the assassin, idiot girl? '' Trigon scoffs. ''Don't make me laugh, daughter. You are weak, you have always been equal to your mother who believed in demons that fall in love with humans and golden futures.''

Do you want to play the queen of assassins so much?

Raven ducks her head, refusing to look him in the eye. Her mind was in conflict, she wanted to quench her father's teasing and her racing heart believing that he would not leave her alone. She wished for them to build a future together, but she also knows that the place where they would go is not idyllic; It is not a paradise.

"We can be secure." he offers as if it were the last resort. Damian's tone is soft, but it is mixed with doubt and silent resignation, as if he were realizing that she would say no. "It is one of the safest places on the planet."

She strokes his uniform cape, as if to remind herself that this is real, and he is still here.

They look at each other in the eyes. Damian's breathing is heavy, time freezes and she knows that this moment can define what would be of her life in what they had left, she could change it for better or worse.

The person in front of you. The future in front of you.

For the first time in three days she looks at the tower, it is destroyed, holes and cracks damage the T and she realizes that he cannot stay. She cannot bear the idea of being alone, she could not compose herself; she doesn't want to go through another hell where she only has Trigon as a company, him feeding on her pain and weakness. Her father would feel no empathy for her, even if she died, he would still worry about himself.

Maybe it would not be perfect, but it is a future, and she does not want to lose him.

"I'm going to go." She clears her throat. "I'll go with you to the League of Assassins."

Damian nods.

***

She hadn't expected the trip to be this long, but Damian insists it would be days. Nanda Parbat is a fortress in Tibet, she is trying to locate it on the map, and she is half a world away, so they must take a trip on a plane waiting for them outside Jump City. She does not distinguish the face of the pilot, as he is covered by a mask that only leaves his eyes exposed and bows when he sees Damian.

Raven had looked out the window at the decimated city. She has not packed, did not want to rescue anything that was her home, but found a jewel that had belonged to Starfire; she said that it was the only thing she could bring from Tamaran, it is a violet stone that catches sunlight and reminds her of her friend. It had been lying a few meters from her shattered body, as if in her last moments she had clung to the stone.

It breaks her heart when she sees the jewel.

Titus rests his head on her lap and yawns. She smiles at the animal and strokes its head; he had been a loyal and brave dog not to be disturbed when seeing the chaos that the world had become. His soft fur is like the fibers of a carpet and it is warm, like a stuffed animal. He reminds her of good things, laughs in the park, the pet store that always smelled of food, and a box of puppies they gave away in the city center.

The pilot barely looks at her. She is surprised by the technology of the plane, although it is small. Damian sits in the passenger seat, as if he were the one directing it, gives the pilot instructions in another language and the man nods.

When the plane takes off, Raven cannot take her eyes off the city. She feels bad for leaving the corpses of her friends and not giving them a decent burial and leaving. They deserved better.

Watching Jump City hurts, however, she can't look away either.

She wonders what Kory, Garfield, or any of her friends would think if they found out what she was doing, would they get mad? Perhaps they were reproving her from heaven, they look at her with furious eyes and they would have a bad opinion of her decision to follow Damian to lead an organization that the heroes disapprove of.

Jump City, the city where memories had been formed and would remain here, the destroyed tower is a point on the small island from afar, it seems like a fallacy that a few weeks ago she would have lived in that tower with other thoughts hanging around her head. She stretches out her hand on the glass when the plane is about to take off, her fingers touch the point where the destroyed tower is positioned and murmurs a silent prayer to Uxia, the spirit that guides souls to eternal rest and is the protector of the martyrs, to direct her fallen friends to a better place than she is heading for.

"Goodbye." she whispers.

She wants to see their faces for the last time, that they are in a place full of light. Because people as wonderful as them deserve the best, if this life did not offer it to them, then let it be in the next ones.

Feeling eyes on her, Damian is watching her from the passenger seat and there is a grimace on his face, he disappears in the blink of an eye and presses buttons and continues giving orders with a firm voice.

Titus falls asleep on her lap.

The plane takes off and for a few moments she swears that there is a figure flying around the tower, but by then the plane has already crossed the mountains and she is observing the ocean.

Raven presses the jewel that belonged to her friend against her chest, praying that she had not been wrong and blinded by feelings.

''You are weak. You are running away like your mother, but don't worry, daughter; you'll ruin it anyway. You always do it.''

 *** 

@ravenfan1242 Thank you ❤❤❤

The fanfiction will have ten parts

Inspired by Batman Beyond and Games of Thrones 

See you in two weeks! 

[norhimorovine]

The Dowager Chocobo

Norhi carefully held tight to the lead, though she left some slack between her and Crystal’s halter. “Watch your posture, Lhissa. If you get faster than a walk, she’ll bounce you right off.”

Lhissa held onto the reins of the halter, nervously nodding at her sister’s instruction. Thankfully, Crystal was a very calm chocobo, even if she was a large draught bird. Lhissa smiled a bit more as Crystal turned her head to affectionately nibble at the foot in her stirrup. Lhis patted the bird’s neck and then shifted, straightening her posture. “Alright. I’m ready to try again.”

Norhi nodded. “Alright. Gentle circles. Walking first.”

Lhis took one more breath and gently bumped the stirrups to Crystal’s side. Taking the cue, Crystal started walking around the little circular pen.

Norhi turned with the lead, but let Lhissa control things for the moment. “Very good, sis. Just like that. Keep breathing with the motions.”

After a bit more of this, Norhi smiled and said. “Alright. You can stop. Let’s take a break. Else you’ll be too saddle sore to move later.”

Lhis pulled Crystal’s reins to stop her, sighing as the larger bird obeyed easily. One more gentle tug and Crystal knelt, allowing the shorter girl to dismount without dropping too far to the ground. Then, like Norhi had showed her earlier, she pulled out a krakka root and gave it to the chocobo. She patted Crystal’s neck. “Thank you for being so patient with me, Crystal.”

The chocobo gladly ate the root and then butted her head against Lhissa’s shoulder. Norhi came over and hugged her sister. “Very good. Let’s go get Crystal settled back in the stable.”

Lhissa nodded and gently tugged the reins again, prompting Crystal to stand. “How is Crystal anyway? She’s so calm.”

Norhi hummed. “Well, according the papers we got when Dad bought her, I’d say she’s about fourteen or fifteen now.”

Lhissa frowned. “Isn’t that pretty old for a chocobo?”

Norhi shrugged. “Not really. Middle aged. Like Dad or Mama. Though, she’ll be an elder bird by the time you’re grown.”

Lhissa hummed a bit. “Are there any stories about chocobos?”

Norhi nodded. “Oh, lots. Want to hear the one about the Dowager Chocobo?”

Lhissa nodded. “Yes, please!”

It is said, in the deep recesses of the forest, there is a place where wild chocobos go, when they reach their golden years. The path is most toilsome and difficult for spoken feet. It’s rare that anyone but a chocobo ever finds it. But it is also said, that those spoken who do, may learn a valuable secret. A secret that is rumored to bring healing to even the dying.

There was a young healer, whose clan had become very sick. A plague of sorts seemed to have infected her tribe. The healer had tried everything she knew, and everything the other tribes could advise her to do.

After consulting with the last tribe she could find, she started riding her chocobo back to her tribe. She began to cry. For the last matriarch had nothing to give, except her profound apologies. Finally, after she was cried out, she looked up and realized she didn’t recognize where she was. Her chocobo had strayed off the path.

The healer tried to turn her bird the other way, tried to go back. But the chocobo resisted, flapping her wings and crying out with great kwehs and warks. The healer looked back and began to fear there was a predator behind them. So, she let the chocobo have her head.

The bird picked up the pace and trotted along strange and unfamiliar paths, going through creeks and fallen tree tunnels. After many bells, the healer saw other chocobos join their path, running past them and around them. Her chocobo greeted them with a merry call and they answered just as gaily.

The healer watched all this in awe, as her chocobo led her into a village of nests and nooks, curved trees and huge gysahl plants. The chocobo walked calmly through the odd chocobo town, soon stopping in front of the biggest of nests. In that nest, sat a big round chocobo, with a fluffy crest of white feathers that looked like a crown, upon her head. She was a true nonagenarian of a bird, ancient and refined.

The healer thought this chocobo must be a queen, the mythical dowager chocobo. She slid out of her saddle and bowed to the bird.

The matriarch cooed softly and said, “Welcome tiny healer. I am glad you came, when your friend chose to bring you.”

The healer looked up in surprise and then nodded. She’d never heard a chocobo speak before. “Thank you for having me… Madam? I.. I wasn’t sure if she could smell a wolf or an ochu or such. So, I chose to trust her sense of the forest more than mine. She has often saved our tribe from danger before.”

The dowager nodded gently. “It is wise of you to listen to your friends. And I am told you have done much listening, of late. Looking for answers to a great sickness.”

The healer became sad again, her ears wilting and her tail drooping. “Yes, Madam. My tribe have a dry cough, and rattling lungs. Great fever and constant sweating. Everything I have tried has not worked.”

The dowager sighed slowly, a sad singsong kweh. “Your friend tells me that your tribe treats her and her sisters very well. And that she is sad that they are all ill. And that she is even more sad that you mourn them already.”

The healer looked up at her chocobo and put a hand on her feathered neck. “She is my very good friend. And I am very glad she’s been with me through all this.”

The dowager seemed very pleased by all this. She nodded and then turned and plucked one of her own feathers. And she plucked flowers from a nearby gysahl bush. She gave them to the healer, saying, “Burn this with lavender and patchouli, like an incense. Wave the smoke to your ill and it will ease their pain. Then, give them oil drops made from petals of our gysahl bushes. These drops will ease their cough and lower their fevers. And in time, they will recover.”

The young healer accepted the feather and flowers with no small amount of wonder. “I thank you from the depths of my heart for this, Madam. But why are you helping me?”

The dowager was quiet for a long moment, before answer, “Because your friend asked it of me. She and her sisters love you and your tribe. They would be distraught to lose you all. All I ask, is that you continue to show them such kindness.”

The healer nodded quickly. “I swear that I will!”

She bowed one more time and got back in her chocobo’s saddle. And they returned to the tribe. She made the feather incense and eased their pain. She then made the oil drops and gave them to her tribe.

Soon the tribe was healing and returning to normal. The healer told them of her journey. Of the dowager’s kind gift. Of their chocobo’s love for them. The tribe was amazed and honored their chocobos, seeking to treat them more like true members of the tribe, than unknowing pack animals.

And though their huntresses searched and searched, they could never again find the path to the dowager’s village. But, when their birds began to grow old, they released them to go to the village and join the other wild chocobos. Each season after a bird was released, a young chocobo would show up and join their tribe’s flock. And so it became their tradition, to honor their chocobos so. And the strange illness never set upon them again.

[cabinofimagines]

A Merry Happy Plan (Percy Jackson xS!Reader)

A/N: Wassup I got sick so tomorrow I’ll probably take a break from posting lmaoo I’ll do my best to do all the requests before New year tho, hope you like it! -Danny

Words: 1,676

Warnings: None!

Requests: Not any of those anons but I’d love some sibling shit. Maybe a holiday sibling thing with Percy where the reader isn’t super cheerful around the holidays because her mortal parent died around then and Percy finds his own way to get them into the holiday spirit.

If there’s something everyone knows, is that Percy loves his siblings.

Deeply, unconditionally and out loud. Percy would go to war (again) for any of them anytime if they asked. 

That’s why it hurts him so much to see Y/N suffering during Christmas.

This should be a happy time! To be together as a family, eat your all-time favorite food, watch the best movies ever created... sadly, Y/N can’t have it all.

Her mortal parent died a few years back when she was still a kid. Even though she’s been at camp for a long time, it hurts like it happened yesterday. Don’t get her wrong, she’s happy and all, she loves her brothers and she loves her friends, she wouldn’t change anything... 

Still, she wishes she could’ve had a bit more time with her mortal family. It’s unfair, she never asked for bad things to anyone, she was a good kid. Yet, everything always went wrong.

Percy had a plan, Y/N wasn’t a fan of the festivities, he understood and during the first years, he respected that, gave her space to rebuild her life. Now though, he knows it’s time to help her a little, make her see that things can be good, no need to focus and drown on sad memories when she could be creating new ones.

It was December 23rd, Y/N was snoring lightly on her bed, all her body hidden under the covers. Percy sneaked quietly inside the cabin, he had a big suitcase beside him and a large coat hanging from his arm. He left both things next to the door and walk over to where his sister was sleeping, then pulled down the covers completely with one harsh tug.

“Good morning!”

“Mmph...” Y/N grunted, looking for the blankets blindly, “not now, Percy”

“Yes now,” He insisted, grabbing a handful of the fabric and pulling it away from the bed, “you’re coming with me”

“You know I’m not in the mood,” She replied, still half-asleep.

“That’s exactly why I’m picking you up,” Percy replied, sitting on the edge of the bed, “you’re spending Christmas with me and my family this year”

“What?” She rubbed her eyes, thinking maybe she was hallucinating, “I’m not allowed to leave camp, you know that”

“You are now, at least until New Year,” He smiles, “just came from asking Chiron for permission to take you with me”

Y/N sat up slowly, too confused and sleepy.

“Why?”

“Because you need this,” Percy put a hand on her shoulder, “you need to be with your family right now, not alone.”

“My family?” She frowned.

“Your brother,” He pointed to himself, “and my mom has heard so much about you she can’t wait to actually meet you. Same with Paul, and Estelle is so tiny you’ll love her right away, and I’m sure she’ll love you just as much”

“You don’t have to do this,” Y/N felt a lump in her throat that she was quick to push back.

“Maybe, but I care about you a bit too much to let you have another bad Christmas”

“I don’t even celebrate Christmas, Percy” She rolled her eyes.

“But it’s not because you don’t like it!” He retorted, “Or because of your religion or whatever. No, this is because you've been trapped in this mourning ever since... I just want you to be happy, all the time.”

“What would I even do back at your place?” She questioned nervously, “What if your family doesn’t like me once they get to know me?”

“Don’t be silly, you’re the best!” He chuckled, “Come on, my mom will help us to bake cookies and I’ll show you my favorite Christmas movies, you’ll have fun!”

“I don’t know if I should be having fun during this time of the year,” She shifted uncomfortably, “It’s disrespectful”

“It’s been years, Y/N/N” He held her hand and gave a gentle squeeze, “I’m sure they would’ve wanted to see you enjoying yourself rather than this”

“I...” She pondered the offer, maybe Percy was right. What was the use of moping? Of course she missed her parent, of course she felt like a part of her was missing, but did she really had to go through that pain on her own?

“Can you give me fifteen minutes to get ready?” She asked, “I need to get my stuff...”

“You’re coming?” Percy got up, excitedly walking over to the suitcase by the door.

“I guess, I’ll give it a shot”

“Awesome!” He dragged the suitcase and the coat over to your bed, leaving them beside you, “You can put all your clothes in there and that coat is for when we get out of camp, outside the limits it’s freezing cold so you’re gonna need it”

“You did plan everything, huh?” She chuckles, getting up and walking towards the bathroom.

“I’m taking care of my little sister, that’s all”

After half an hour, Y/N was ready to leave camp. She wished the best for her friends while she was gone, and got inside the car with Percy.

“You came here on your own?”

“Yeah, I got my license, remember?”

“Sometimes I forget how big you really are,” She grinned, ruffling his hair.

“Back off! I don’t wanna crash my mom’s car!”

“Sorry,” She raised her hands in defeat.

The trip was soothing, Percy sang along (pretty badly) to whatever it was on the radio and successfully made his sister laugh. She was terrified to meet his family, but he made a great job keeping her calm.

When they arrived, Percy grabbed her suitcase and waited until she was all wrapped up on her coat.

“Gods! Is it always this cold here?” 

“Every year,” He smiled, “let’s go, the faster you leave the street the better”

“Okay...” She sighed, “guess there’s no use to wait any longer”

“Just breathe, you’ll do fine,” He patted her back lovingly, opening the door for her to enter the building.

The little girl had strong lungs, Y/N could hear her screams from the hall, they were happy though. Like she was playing something that got her quite excited.

“Y/N,” Percy said cheerfully, “meet my family...”

She tried to control the way her hands were shaking and wore the best smile she could muster at the moment.

“Mom! We’re home!”

“She’s here?” Y/N heard a woman’s voice coming from the kitchen, “I’m coming!”

Her first impression of Sally Jackson was: “That’s how a mom should always look like”. She was feisty and had a kind smile, her hair was soft and when she leaned in to give Y/N a hug, she smelled like flowers.

“You’re bigger than I thought,” Sally grinned, “look at you! Percy has a picture of you when you were this tiny,” She lowers her hand to her chest and laughs, “but it looks like that was a long time ago”

“I-Uh,” Y/N looked over to Percy, who only nodded as a way to encourage her, “yeah, I think that picture is from when I was thirteen”

“Oh, hi” Paul Blofis appeared, he was carrying a young baby girl, who had to be Estelle, “It’s nice to finally meet you, Y/N”

The little girl stared at her intently, like it was the most interesting thing she’s ever seen, suddenly, she stretched her arms towards her and whimpers.

“Hey, seems like Estelle was also eager to meet you!” Percy chuckled, walking towards the hall where the bedrooms are, “I’m going to leave your suitcase, make yourself at home”

“Okay,” Y/N had her eyes fixed on the little girl, not sure of what to do.

“You wanna hold her?” Asked Paul.

“I don’t want to upset her...” She hesitated.

“I think she wants you to do that,” He looked over to his daughter, the baby squirming on his arms, trying to get to her, “it’s not hard, I’ll help you”

He then put Estelle on Y/N’s arms, who was drowning in anxiety.

“Am I, uh-Is this?”

“That’s okay,” Paul nodded, “It looks like she’s a big fan”

“Hi,” Y/N smiled nervously, “I’m your brother’s sister...”

“Paul, would you help me back in the kitchen?” Sally put a hand on his husband’s arm and he complied, “Thank you. Is it okay if we leave you with Estelle?”

“Don’t worry, I got it,” The girl smiled, holding her tightly against her chest.

Y/N walked over to the room where she heard some noises and assumed that’s the room she’d be sleeping during those days. When she opened the door, she saw Percy’s room.

“Oh, sorry,” She quickly apologized, “I thought this was the guest room...”

“We don’t have a guest room,” Percy replied in amusement, “you’re staying here in my room”

“Oh,” She stood there for a moment, unsure, “alright...”

“I mean, if that’s okay with you-”

“No, yes it is,” She replied quickly, “uh, your family is nice.”

“They’re kind of your family too, you know?” He smiled shyly.

“That’s nice,” Estelle giggled, playing with Y/N’s hair, “I could get used to that”

“Nothing’s stopping you,” He shrugged, “you don’t bother us. If anything I think that maybe you could make our family more... whole, you know?”

She stayed quiet, not knowing how to answer.

“I’m just glad you feel comfortable here,” Percy added, feeling his sister’s nervousness, “we can turn this into our own tradition”

“Yes,” Y/N grinned, softly caressing Estelle’s hair, “that would be cool... thank you, Percy”

“No problem,” He smiled back.

Sally’s voice came out from the kitchen, announcing it was time to teach the kids how to bake and Percy’s eyes instantly lighted up.

“Oh, you’re gonna love this,” He says excitedly, passing her by to rush to the kitchen.

“I think you may be right,” She whispered, playing with the baby’s hand and smiling to herself, a more confident expression as she walked out of the room.

This would be the best Christmas ever.