#but as soon as I start colouring him he gets honey gold hair

[moon-mirage]

The Boy with the Bread

(I couldn’t resist a quick Peeta sketch)

[amateurcomics]

Angelic Wedding—Set In The Year 20075

(Raziel and Jorden's wedding. I will type up Past and Future's soon.)

sorry, this is rather long. Please, please let me know what you think in the comments! :)

Raziel hopped around in circles as he tried to get his large, sun-kissed brown wings through the delicate holes in his silk wedding robe while also trying not to tear the zip. It was his and Jorden’s wedding today, and he was very excited. Every time he thought of the coming moment, a chill ran up his spine and a smile broke across his face.

 However, he wasn’t smiling now.

 “Come on, come on, please,” Raziel whispered desperately as his left wing got stuck at an odd and painfully cramping angle.

 There was a knock on the door. “Who is it?” Raziel called in a strained voice, “Jorden if it’s you, you know you can’t come in!”

 The door opened and Abrariel slipped into the room, his baby bump was just visible under his tuxedo—he was four months pregnant with his last child. “Father, other way round, you’re not meant to see Jorden in his wedding robe.”

 Abrariel looked very formal in a sleek black tux with black skinny jeans—jeans Raziel had worried would be too tight on Abrariel’s belly, this baby was weaker than the others—and with his hair brushed down and neat for once.

 Raziel sighed. “Just help me,” he mumbled.

 Abrariel chuckled, but helped to fix Raziel’s wing, guiding it carefully and gently through the hole and fixing up the silver zip that had come half undone, leaving some of Raziel’s honey coloured back visible.

 “You needed the next size, Father,” the Vampire mumbled as he struggled to get the zip up through the space between Raziel’s wings, and Raziel stayed still. “You don’t need to look this slim and sexy. Jorden already thinks your sexy enough.”

 Raziel chuckled. “Perhaps you're right,” he said, “but this was the only one in sunset-butter.”

 “You and your buttered coloured robes,” Abrariel mused, stepping back, and folding his arms over his chest.

 “I am a Life Angel. It’s our colour,” Raziel smiled before looking at himself in the floor length mirror of his room. The robe was long and slim, bringing out the curves of his hips and fanning out around his sandaled feet. There was a dark gold belt that went around his waist and made him look even slimmer. His wings were brushed and fluffed so that they looked like fresh dirt, the stars and suns scattered across them looked like gold chips. His silver hair flowed like a river down his back. The robes were a light butter colour that made the honey tone of his skin stand out and brought out the green of his eyes.

 “I look good,” Raziel approved, half turning to look over his shoulder at his reflection.

 “Jorden will fall in love all over again when he sees you,” Abrariel murmured as he lowered himself onto the bed, a hand on his belly. He got a weird look on his face and started to fiddle with the button of his jeans.

 Raziel frowned, looking at the Vampire in the mirror, he turned around. “Something wrong?”

 “Nah, just when I sit down, the band of these jeans presses uncomfortably into my stomach, around where the womb is. I’m just… Taking precautions,” Abrariel mumbled, looking away once he had undone the button.

 “Are you sure the baby is alright?” Raziel asked.

 “I got a scan yesterday. Its weak, but alive,” Abrariel murmured. He stood and suddenly forced himself into cheeriness. “Let’s not dwell on sad things, it’s your wedding day after all!”

 Raziel couldn’t help a smile at that. “I want everything to be perfect,” he said, clasping his hands as if in prayer and swaying a little.

 Abrariel came over and rested a pale hand on Raziel’s robed arm. “It will be,” he murmured, meeting Raziel’s gaze, the ice blue of Abrariel’s eyes was brought out starkly with the black of his tuxedo. He smiled.

 There was a knock on the door, then Alastair appeared in the doorway, looking anxious—Alastair had been born high anxiety. He was currently the youngest of the Whitechaple Vampires—He was Abrariel’s third-born. Alastair had Abrariel’s messy black hair and Michael’s moss green eyes. His hair was unbrushed and he was tugging at a blue plated band around his wrist. All he wore was Abrariel’s old white hoody, the one Raziel had given Abrariel before they found out about Raphael, and a pair of short black pants. He had fought black and blue against wearing a tuxedo.

 “Papa?” Alastair asked in a tight voice. It was then Raziel noticed how tense in the back and shoulders the fourteen-year-old was. Must be having another attack.

 Abrariel held his arms open and bent down a bit. Alastair rushed into the embrace and Abrariel heaved him up like he was still a small child, careful of his belly. He held the boy close.

 “Remember what I told you?” Abrariel murmured into his son’s ear, “to take a deep breath?”

 Alastair whimpered and buried his face in Abrariel’s neck. Slowly the tension left the boy’s shoulders, and he relaxed in his father’s arms. Alastair had never been able to get out of an anxiety attack without one of his fathers. It was something both Michael and Abrariel had been working on, and in new haste now that Abrariel was pregnant again.

 Abrariel stroked his son’s messy black hair, murmured a few words, then set the boy down. Immediately Alastair brought his arms around himself in a hug but seemed otherwise back to normal. Alastair looked at Raziel, green eyes half guarded as they always were after an attack.

 “Jorden has gone up to the chapel,” he told Raziel, “to get ready.”

 Raziel nodded and smiled. “It’s going to be perfect. I’m finally getting married!” He ruffled his wings.

 “Won’t be much of a wedding without a cake,” Alastair muttered, his hands flexing and unflexing on his arms, still looking at Raziel with the guarded gaze that said he was smarter than he looked.

 Raziel froze. “What?”

 “There’s no cake, Grandpa.”

 Raziel looked at the boy in horror. “But—what? I swear I ordered one…” He trailed off.

 “Was that the day I thought I had miscarried?” Abrariel asked half in worry half in guilt, “and you rushed me to the hospital wing?” He looked at Raziel apologetically.

 Raziel paled. “Oh no. oh no, no, no, no!” He put his face in his hands and his wings went limp.

 “I’m sorry, Father,” Abrariel murmured, looking down like he was still that sixteen-year-old that Raziel had first taken under his wing.

 “It’s not your fault,” Raziel looked at his son, then away, “what am I to do now?”

 “I know he is a butcher,” Abrariel started, as Alastair began to look uncomfortable and shifted his weight from one foot to the other, looking down as if waiting for something to happen. “But Romeo is a great chef, I have seen the cakes he sells on market day with his meat. Get him to make the cake. If we ask him on the way to the chapel, he could have it ready by the end of the ceremony,” his eyes flicked to Alastair, who had placed his legs tight together and was looking a little more desperate, “Alastair, go to the toilet.”

 “But—” Alastair’s eyes snapped to his father’s.

 “I will still be here when you get back,” Abrariel crossed his arms over his chest and looked at the young boy with stern ice blue eyes.

 Alastair sighed and left.

 Raziel looked at Abrariel, “It’s good idea,” he said, “to get Romeo to bake the cake,” he looked around his small bedroom, the curtains flowing out like wings in the wind from the open window, “I just hope nothing else goes wrong.”

 Abrariel gave him an encouraging but gentle smile. “Even if everything goes wrong, it will still be a lovely moment. You’re getting married, Father, that should be what is important.”

 Raziel smiled weakly at him.

***

 “Zara! Zachriah! Come on! Zach, where’s your tie?” Abrariel called as he rushed around, trying to gather up his children, his brushed hair getting less and less brushed in the process.

 Raziel smiled as he watched the Vampire rush in and out of rooms, he rushed past Telantes, shocking the Demon. Raziel chuckled, Abrariel was a good father for those kits.

 “Zara, where’s Alastair?” Abrariel asked, stopping his seventeen-year-old daughter in the hall as she headed to the living room with an old towel and some spray. Zara had short blond hair and green eyes, and was slim and pretty, a female version of Michael as both Abrariel and Michael joked. She was one of the twins born after the Grate Battle.

 “He—uh—had a pee accident,” Zara said awkwardly as she held up the spray and towel, “I’m just going to clean up the puddle.”

 Raziel chuckled as Abrariel sighed and headed up the hall, his feet silent on the polished wood floor. There was a tap on his shoulder, he turned. One of his twin daughters was beside him, Lilly.

 Lilly had long silver hair and Jorden’s blue eyes; she was the first born according to Jorden. Her hair was done up in a bun and held in place by wooden chopsticks, her lips painted a light pink and her cheeks coloured by faint red blush. She wore a long white dress robe, her white wings brushed and smoothed.

 “Yes, Lilly?” Raziel asked.

 “Give me ten minutes, and let me braid your hair,” Lilly said with a smile, holding up a silver brush and a few hair ties.

 “That’s alright, sweety,” Raziel murmured, inclining his head, “my hair is fine flowing down my back.”

“It’s hardly even brushed,” Lilly exclaimed, pulling Raziel by the arm into the main bathroom and placing him in front of the small mirror and wielding the brush.

 “Lilly, love, we don’t have time, we have to go,” Raziel murmured as he fiddled with his golden belt.

 “At least let me brush your hair,” Lilly said, and started attacking Raziel’s long silver hair gently with the brush. She brushed the length of it, making it smooth and beautiful.

 When she set the brush down on the ceramic basin, Raziel made to leave, but Lilly grabbed his arm. “Not done,” she murmured.

 Raziel suppressed an impatient sigh and watched as Lilly lightly dusted his hair with wash-out-able glitter. “Now I’m done.”

 Raziel looked at himself in the mirror, his hair shone like there were stars in the long silver locks. “Thanks, Lilly,” he murmured, giving his daughter a hug before they left the bathroom.

 Outside they found the rest of the family waiting for them in the hall by the front door. Alastair was in a new pair of grey jeans and was clinging to his father’s arm, Abrariel had his head bent, black hair falling over his face, murmuring to him. Zara and Zachariah were chatting animatedly with each other, both wearing light blue tuxes and not looking like twins, what with Zachariah having shoulder length black hair and blue eyes, and Zara having short blond hair and green eyes. Raphael was wearing a grey suit and was leaning by the door, his hair brushed so that the blonde and black were separated evenly, his green and blue eyes were fixed on a point that Raziel couldn’t see, he looked lost and lonely; Abrariel had said he was looking for love. Telantes was talking to Luna—who had rebelled and wore a jade-green robe instead of white—Telantes was wearing a pressed white top and black jeans, he was bare foot like always, and his shoulder-length copper hair hang lose, brushing his shoulders and standing out starkly against his grey skin. He was—much to his annoyance and everyone else’s amusement—still a head shorter then Abrariel, even at the age of thirty-two.

 “Are we ready?” Raziel asked, beaming all over his face.

 The family turned and smiled at him, they nodded. Raphael broke out of his retrieve and opened the door and the whole family stepped out into the chill, clear night. As they walked, Raziel lifted his robe up above his ankles to keep it out of the dirt. He couldn’t stop smiling, excitement fluttered under his ribcage making him jittery. There was a whoosh of air from just over their hands, flattening the stalks of dew laden wheat closest to the road as a thin layer of silver and white glitter was dropped on them. Raziel looked up in time to see a Midnight Angel in a long dusk-blue robe zoom by overhead, sawing higher into the sky. “Thanks, Father” he called, waving, “see you there!”

 “Your jittery, like a child,” Abrariel mused, coming to Raziel’s side, and noticing the spring in his step.

 “I’m just excited,” Raziel beamed at Abrariel as they entered Heaven’s Town, “I’m getting married!”

 Abrariel smiled at him over his shoulder as he moved to head to Romeo’s butcher’s. “It will be a lovely ceremony,” he said before he slipped inside the heavy glass door of the little brick shop, the bell by the door tinkling softly.

 Raziel clasped his hands together and looked at the sky. “Everything will be perfect,” he murmured softly.

***

 Raziel helped to put the finishing touches on the wide wedding arch. The arch was made up of gold and white ribbon and lovely, white, and soft golden flowers, glitter shining amongst their petals. The chapel was a wood and marble space, wooden pews lined down four rows, the floor veined marble. The pillows that held up the marble roof were made up of brown oak wood, the roof itself had a few stories from the bible and a diamond and rose gold chandelier hung down, catching the light of the moon from the sky light. White flowers were in cold, polished marble vases that sat in every corner, the pews lined in gold ribbon, the aisle glittering with glitter. A wooden altar was just behind the wedding arch and was carved elegantly in flowing curls.

 “It looks good, Raziel!”

 Raziel turned. Telantes was standing at the bottom of the marble steps that led up to the dais where Raziel was standing, a smile on his grey face, a grin more like, showing his dog-sharp teeth. His copper hair had been blown into light knots by the night wind.

 Raziel smiled back at him. “It’s all coming together. Romeo is making the cake, the wedding room is set up, and Jorden will be here in a quarter of an hour to walk up the aisle.”

 Telantes suddenly frowned. “That reminds me,” he said, “Raphael is helping Alastair with the balancing of the ring pillow, but he can’t find the rings.”

 Raziel looked at him, doubt flicking in his chest and causing his smile to fade. “They’re here,” he said. He turned to Raphael a few feet away just beyond the left side of the pews. He was trying to get Alastair to hold the black ring pillow, Alastair was arguing with him. “Raphael!” He called, “The wedding rings are here, aren’t they?”

 Raphael looked up at him as Alastair crossed his arms over his chest. Raphael’s mixed-matched eyes were wide. “Uh, they might be, but I don’t know where. I can’t find them,” He called back.

 Raziel paled.

 “Where’d you last see them?” Telantes asked, turning to Raziel.

 “I—uh,” Raziel looked around desperately, in his mind’s eye, he saw the little blue velvet box sitting on his bedside table and paled more, “At home, in—in my room.”

 Telantes nodded and bolted, zipping out of the chapel, and nearly knocking Abrariel over. Abrariel caught himself with a hand on a pew and looked from where Telantes had vanished to Raziel, his eyes questioning.

 “The rings,” Raziel mouthed at him and Abrariel looked concerned.

 There was a tap on his shoulder, and Raziel turned. There was a Main Angel in a simple white robe standing next to him. “Yes?” He asked.

 “Jorden is almost ready,” the Angel murmured, “want to get everyone seated, the guests are arriving.”

 Raziel turned, sure enough, Angels, Vampires, and a few Souls were streaming into the chapel. The Whitechaple Vampires were being flown in by Raziel and Jorden’s family and gently dropped to the ground. Raziel watched as Michael—in a plain white tuxedo with his blonde hair messed by wind—rushed to Abrariel and wrapped his arms around him, kissing him fully on the lips.

 “It’s my wedding!” Raziel called to them with a smile. The two Vampires broke apart and looked up at him, awkward but happy smiles on their pale faces.

 Jeremiah and Ajax were sliding into their seats in the second row with their two children, Lilith, and Azazel. Ajax was wearing a fancy, black trench coat and blue jeans and was looking a little green, Jeremiah was in a black overcoat and old-fashioned jeans, his salt-and pepper hair brushed but tangled by the wind.

 Raph was by the entrance in a ripped bicker jacket and tight jeans, he was hopping from one foot to the other, his hands shoved into his lap, looking around desperately. His green hair fell over his forehead as he hunched forwards. Abrariel saw this and pointed towards a closed door, Raph bolted for it.

 Raziel’s in-laws—Lucifer and Zerachiel—waved at him before slipping into their wooden seats in the front row with their shy-looking seventeen-year-old daughter. All of them were wearing robes of soot and ash grey. The style was sleek and long and a little deadly-looking. Angel robes made in Hell. Raziel noticed that Zerachiel was holding two little bundles. A baby Angel that was just starting to nurse, and a blue skinned baby Demon with a tuff of copper hair that was trying to get to the same nipple as its sibling. Raziel raised an eyebrow at it.

 Lucifer looked from Raziel to the now-nursing cambion that Zerachiel had moved to his other side, covering his chest with a blue blanket. He looked back at Raziel and mouthed, “adopted,” while pointing at the baby Demon, Raziel nodded.

 Raziel caught sight of his parents, Dusk and Cameal, getting settled in their seats on the right-side pew. Cameal was wearing a cream-coloured robe with fur at the neck. Main Angels and High Angels had the same colors associated to them. Dusk was wearing a dusk-blue robe with a faint scattering of stars at the bottom and a low neckline, showing of his pale collar bones. Both had beams on their faces.

 “My son is getting married!” Dusk cried, making several people jump and showing he was just as excited as Raziel.

 The last to arrive was Telantes’s adopted daughter, Amber. She was a beautiful Guardian Angel with long blonde hair and blue eyes and shining golden wings. She was the Guardian Angel to Azazel, much to everyone’s joy. Somehow, despite Telantes’s way of tomboy raising, Amber had turned out to be the kind of girl who liked her makeup, and so, there was pink blush on her pale cheeks, her lips were blood red, and her eyes were thick with mascara, eye liner, and eye shadow. She was wearing an elegant white silk robe with a gold band around her waist and was arm in arm with a very handsome Farm Angel… Her third boyfriend.

 Raziel was about to raise his hand in greeting when the Main Angel next to him tapped his shoulder again. “Are we ready,” she didn’t look happy, and Raziel wasn’t surprised. Him and Jorden were braking a Law—Main Angels were not allowed to mate with any other breed of Angel—and the only reason they were allowed a real wedding was because they were heroes of the Great Battle.

 “No, Telantes has had to go home and get the rings,” Raziel put a hand behind his head, getting glitter on his hand.

 The Main Angel nodded towards the large doors. “He’s back.”

 Sure enough, Telantes was rushing back into the chapel not even out of breath, and holding out a blue velvet box to Raziel once he reached him. “I got them!” he said, smiling.

 Raphael saw this and came over, dragging Alastair by the arm, the poor boy was starting to look like he wished he hadn’t come here. Raphael gave the anxious looking boy the black pillow and the box, then, with a nod at Telantes, led Alastair away.

 Raziel turned back to the displeased-looking Main Angel, a smile on his face. “Now we’re ready.”

***

 Raziel tried to keep still as he stood with his hands behind back om the dais as he watched Zara and Lilith walk down the glitter strewn aisle throwing pink flower petals and laughing silently with each other. They were admittedly a bit old for the role of ‘flower girl’, but they had begged to do it, so Jorden and Raziel had allowed it. The rest of the gathered family was smiling as they watched them, Ajax had lost his green look, and his shoulders were heaving with barely contained laughter.

 When the two girls had ducked back to their seats, the chapel dimmed a little so that the aisle was illuminated by moonlight that Dusk strengthened. A hush fell across the room as the family turned to look at the back of the aisle and Raziel’s heart contracted.

 Jorden was standing at the end of the aisle in a flowing white robe that fanned out far behind him. There was a silvery silk cape attached with a gold clasp around his neck and flowed down his back like a river. His white-blonde hair was lined with was-out-able glitter and his wings were fluffed and cleaned. He was beaming and looking right at Raziel. The love in his blue eyes mimicked the love in Raziel’s heart, strong and enveloping.

 Jorden was led up the aisle by his father, Lucifer, whose soot grey robe and bright golden wings were in stark contrast to Jorden’s ghostly white colour scheme.

 When Jorden reached the dais and stood in front of Raziel, Raziel took his hands, the honey tone of his skin standing out against Jorden’s paleness. “You look handsome, beautiful,” he murmured, smiling. He wanted to kiss him so badly, but knew he had to wait.

 Jorden smiled back. “Same to you, my love,” he said softly.

 A strict-looking Farm Angel got behind the altar, a staff in one pale hand. He had a tight smile on his face that looked fake but was clearly legit. “It is time to exchange rings,” he said. His voice was soft but carried through the room like it was magnified.

 The family turned to see Alastair standing at the back of the aisle looking petrified. His whole body was shaking, making the pillow with the box tremble in his hands. He was looking around wildly with wide green eyes. Raziel knew well the signs of when he was having an anxiety attack. Poor thing…

 Alastair then proceeded to wet himself in his fear and burst into tears, he was too scared to move. The family laughed softly in the way people do when something is both funny and sad.

 Raziel bent down a little and opened his arms, trying to get the boy to come to him, but Alastair just cried, it was clearly one of the worse attacks. He looked utterly pathetic and heartbreaking standing in a puddle with tears streaming down his face.

 Abrariel got up from his seat and walked down the aisle and put a hand on his son’s shaking shoulder. He murmured a few words to him. Raziel wasn’t sure what Abrariel had said, but with his father next to him, Alastair walked shakily up the aisle and dais to hand the pillow to the Farm Angel. When that was done, Abrariel heaved Alastair, wet pants, and all, into his arms and went back to his seat, calming the terrified boy like he was no more than a babe.

 The Farm Angel opened the box and Raziel took out one of the gold rings and took Jorden’s left hand and slipped the ring onto his ring finger, smiling all the while. Jorden did the same to Raziel, the ring was cold on his finger, but it felt like magic.

 “Raziel Marte, Jorden Lightbringer, do you swear to honour your family name and stay by you mate’s side?” Asked the Farm Angel solemnly.

 “I swear,” Raziel said softly, locking eyes with Jorden.

 “I swear,” Jorden said just as softly, and his eyes didn’t leave Raziel’s.

 “Then you shall honour the name of Lightbringer,” the Farm Angel banged his staff once on the marble floor, making the room fill with a hollow ring, “do you swear to never leave you mate, to be tied by soul and love, for all eternity?”

 “I do,” Raziel’s hand tightened on Jorden’s as his heart pounded in his ears.

 “I do,” Jorden’s voice was just over a whisper, he returned the pressure in Raziel’s hand.

 “Then I join you as husbands!” The Angel banged his staff three times on the marble floor, making the chapel ring like a bell.

 Jorden pulled Raziel in and kissed him passionately on the lips, the movement said everything Jorden couldn’t put into words. Raziel closed his eyes and pulled Jorden closer, scrunching the delicate silk of Jorden’s cape in his hands as he opened his mouth against his to deepen the kiss. Jorden’s lips tasted like rose water. The family cheered and Raziel could feel the light weight of flower petals and glitter being thrown on them.  He pulled away, a little breathless and looked into Jorden’s eyes. Jorden’s face was flushed, and he looked dazed, but in a good way. He met Raziel’s eyes and smiled, taking Raziel’s hands and squeezing them. The wedding rings on their fingers knocked together with a faint chime. Raziel’s smile broadened. I’m married, he’s married, we’re finally married! It was a dream come true.

[gopeachllama]

Cuban Cigars and Cardinal Kisses

a.n/: ... ok in my defense, its still nessian month somewhere....

This fic was inspired by the mv of suit & tie by justin timberlake (the source of this AMAZING gif). its honestly one of my favourite mvs of all time. i watched again recently and it just screamed nessian to me so i wrote this. if you wanna get into the vibesTM of the fic then i highly recommend watching the mv before you read it!

reblogs and comment are highly appreciated!

Fandom: A Court Thorns and Rose by Sarah J Maas

Relationship: Nesta Archeron & Cassain

Warnings: Explicit sexual content

Word Count: 5500

Ao3

~~~

Like most other nights at Velaris Lounge, there was already a drink waiting for the man at his arrival. Picked from their finest, and most expensive collection; a finger of Lagavulin’s sixteen years-old single malt scotch whiskey in a crystal tumbler, as so directed by the gentleman. Cassian Khan, six feet and two inches of fine grooming and tailored suit, strode inside through the exclusive entrance way. Liquor in hand, he stood for a moment, lazily scanning the scene before him with deep inhale. He welcomed the soft ambience lighting, the sharp scent of spiced tobacco smoke and the quiet chatter of wealthy men and women overlayed by the sensual drawl of jazz instruments. Cassian’s blood thrummed in time with the low rhythmic thump of the bass. Day light did not reach this place. The place where night – its sole ruler – became something wholly living, pulsating, breathing. This was Cassian’s home. His fucking castle. Sending a roguish smile and a wink to the waitress still standing-by, he headed for his preferred seat by the foot of the stage.

He spotted Rhysand before he sat down. His childhood friend was draped elegantly over his throne of cushioned velvet, one leg crossed over the other, and taking long drags from the joint between his lips. Wicked delight glinted in Rhys’ dark eyes as he watched his friend unbutton his jacket and drop into his own lounge chair across from him. There were no strobe lights directly over the area where they sat; the darkness surrounding Rhys wore him just as finely as his thousand-dollar suit.

Rhys picked up his own, amber-coloured drink and tipped it in Cassian’s direction, “brother,” He greeted. Opaque slivers of smoke curled out and around his teeth and dissolved into the air as he spoke. “Just in time.”

So, it seemed. Their other friend, Azriel, was nowhere to be seen. Cassian’s gestures mirrored Rhys’ as he toasted his friend and took sip from his drink. The liquor ran down his throat, smooth as honey, and he sprawled against the back of his seat. He reached into the inside pocket of his suit jacket and fished out two slim packages, handing one to Rhys and working on the other. Once the plastic wrapping was removed, he brought it to his faced and dragged the length of it under his nose as he inhaled. The aroma of spice and rich wood flooded his senses and he let out a low, satisfied hum. With an eager smirk, Cassian prepared the crisp Cuban Montecristo No.2 with sturdy, brown fingers. When he was done, he raised the lit cigar to his mouth and took a deep breath. Coating his tongue, expanding his lungs, and coursing through his veins, he allowed the heady fumes to fill him. And he came alive.

Cassian scrutinised his companion through the tendrils of smoke as he exhaled, “looking a little eager tonight, Rhys. A special night?”

“Isn’t it always?” Rhys drawled as he watched the sinuous bodies on stage from the corner of his eye.

Cassian couldn’t argue with that. Nights at Velaris Lounge seemed to exist in an entirely different space and time.

Cassian and Rhys’ continued talking, and there was no shortage of subject matters, with Cassian being the head of security for Rhys’ company. They usually avoided mixing work and pleasure, though Rhys’ often proclaimed that both could be the same thing under the right circumstances. Cassian was inclined to agree.

Soon, the conversation was swallowed up by a lull in the music and a dim of the lights. Cassian readied himself by settling further into his chair. The music quickened in tempo, and anticipation charged through air as trumpets beckoned the start of the performance. His arrival was announced through the speakers, in a sweeping, grandiose declaration.

His best friend since childhood, and the remaining member of their trio; Azriel glided onto centre-stage with hard forged confidence. A lit joint in one hand, and a crystal tumbler in the other, Azriel sang. Smoothing, melodic sounds as he moved around the mic stand with loose limbs and an easy smile on his face. It always warmed Cassian, seeing his friend like that. Seeing how he changed when he was on his stage. So different to the man he was outside of this place. To how he used to be. It was a gentle, endearing reminder to Cassian, of their struggles, their triumphs. Of how far they’ve come – how far he’scome and never looked back.

The bass thrummed, trumpets shrilled, and drums pounded. The timbre of Azriel’s voice streamed effortlessly alongside the various overlaying pitches of the backup singers. The song was all jazzy and funky at the same time, that had Cassian idly tapping his foot in time with the beat. This performance was unfamiliar to his ears. Usually, Azriel made the effort to rehearse his potential performances with his brothers present. And though this wasn’t the first time, it still occurred rarely enough that it had him slightly arching his eyebrows up in surprise.

Before he could think anything more of it, the tempo of the music changed, lowering in pitch and slowing to a steady beat, the rhythmic thump of the bass vibrated the ground at his very feet. The lights flashed before going out completely, blanketing everything under darkness. There was a charge of bated breath in the air, but Cassian was never afraid of the dark. Blood thrummed through his veins in anticipation.

A single spotlight turned on and landed on centre stage. Revealing Azriel’s silent retreat, as if he had melted into the very shadows. But she stood there, in his place. Cassian’s breath hitched at the unfamiliar figure. Burnished gold hair spilling down her back, long legs clad in thigh-high stockings and stiletto heels. And black laced lingerie, covering across her generous breasts, her perky ass, and a garter belt strung around her at the dips of her waist. Piercing steel-grey eyes.

She stood for a breath. One, two, three. And then shemoved.

Cassian catalogued it all. Every flick of her fingers, every sway of her hips, every arch of her back. The gleam of her pearly-white teeth anytime she smiled just wide enough. And Cassian knew, that even when this was all over, she would continue to haunt him every time he closed his eyes.

The pale strobe light casted over her in black and white. Highlighting the curves of her body, with shadows mingling in every dip. The valley of her breast, the ridge down the middle of her toned, flat stomach, the notches of her spine. Cassian felt the phantom press of marble on the tips of his fingers, and they flexed uselessly on the arm of his chair. He wondered if it would feel just as cold if he caressed her unblemished skin. Every now and then, her skin would shimmer; it was beads of moisture that got caught under the spotlight. Perhaps it was droplets of her perfume, that he could smell the barest hints of this close to the stage. Or maybe it was her sweat. Cassian couldn’t tell the difference with the scent. Not that he cared one single bit.

He blinked, and in the next moment, she was on the ground, hands and knees on either side of the turned over mic stand. She dipped low, her cleavage only a breath away from the cool surface of the stage. Then, she reached down her body, and thrusted the mic stand through her splayed open legs. Cassian bit down on an audible groan. She was steel forged in fire and melded under the steady beat of a synth bass drum. It was a brutal, devastating kind of beauty. Cassian may have been a little bit in love. And undeniably rock-fucking-hard in his pants.

In on final turn, she was on her back and propped up on an elbow. Then, so slowly, in time with the bass, much like his own thundering heartbeat, she raised one leg. It stopped for a beat when it was perpendicular to the ground. And she waited, like she knew there was not a single breath being drawn in the room. Like she knew all eyes were latched onto her. The movement was slower, again, when it continued. She stretched herself, and Cassian lost the battle to look away from the thin strip of black lace nestled between her thighs. Her leg eventually rested on her shoulder, held there with a single finger twirled around the heel of her stiletto. The music dropped out completely, and silence consumed the Lounge. The air went heavy, a tangible taste in Cassian’s mouth. And then she tipped her head back, hair flowing to the floor in golden waves, and basking the length of her neck to the single spotlight above. The corners of her mouth curled, oh so slowly. Her cardinal red lips standing out on her pale skin, like blood spilt on pristine marble. She smiled, shamelessly, secretly. The sight of her wide open to the patrons of the Lounge and filthy promise stained on her lips; so debauched, Cassian could hear Rhys shifting in his seat breaking through the silence. He felt the burn in his lungs from the lack of air, but he didn’t dare to move in the slightest. Afraid he would shatter the moment completely. But before Cassian could think to greedily take in every inch of her, the stages plunged into darkness once again. And when light returned, she was gone, and Azriel was there. The mic stand up righted, and a casting knowing smirk. At him.

The music went back to its previous tempo, as strobe lights flashed and soft chatter resumed within the audience. But it was all a dull noise in his ears.

“Who is she?” Cassian sounded a little breathless.

Rhys continued to watch the space she had just vacated. “She showed up a week ago, asking for a job. We told her that we weren’t looking for any new dancers… And she just stripped right there, down to her under-things and started moving. She didn’t even wait for the band,” He turned back to Cassian, and that wicked smile was back in full force, “Az hired her before she even finished her piece.”

“Why didn’t you tell me about her?” There was a slight edge in his voice, but Cassian never got his answer. The music ebbed, cueing the end of Azriel’s performance. As usual, He didn’t linger for the moderate applause. Grabbing a glass of liquor off a tray waiting for him at the base of the stage, he stepped off, and headed straight for his two friends.

“Spectacular as always, Az,” Rhys remarked as Azriel loosened his tie and dropped into the remaining empty seat. Cassian saluted the arrival his friend with a tip of his drink in his direction before upending in one swig and signalling for another one. He pulled out a fresh, new Cuban from his pocket and passed it to Azriel. The latter knowingly took his time. Getting it ready with deft, scarred fingers before finally bringing it up to his lips before, again, taking a slow drag from it. Cassian’s whole body thrummed with question; the words mingled on his tongue along with the sharp aftertaste of expensive whiskey. But Azriel beat him to it.

“So, Cass. How do you like your birthday present?” flicking an eyebrow upwards, he smirked around the cigar propped in the corner of his mouth.

Cassian tensed and waited a moment, carefully choosing his words. “My birthday is in July, jackass.” But Cassian was never the careful type.

Rhys gave a short laughed before replying, “we’ll take that as a thank you.”

“Hello, boys,” A sweet voice came from behind Cassian’s ear. It was once of their long-time waitstaff-turned-dancers. A gorgeous, lithe, little thing. Dressed in sleek, black slacks and a sheer-laced bralette. And even though they smiled politely at both Cassian and Azriel, and placed a new drink in front of the former, Cassian knew the real reason for their appearance.

“Doll,” strobe lights glittered in Rhys’ eyes as he reached for their hand and pressed a kiss onto delicate fingers, “you were absolutely exquisite tonight.”

The dancer melted as they dropped into the space under the man’s arm. And even Cassian marvelled at the way the ambient light made their black skin glow like obsidian.

Azriel sent a soft smile in their direction, “Tarquin,” he greeted with a slight nod. They went to answer, but words were all for naught when Rhys began ghosting his lips along the crook of their neck and shoulder.

Cassian went back to the important matter at hand, “her name?”

Toying with the lace at the edge of Tarquin’s bralette, Rhys didn’t bother to look Cassian’s way as his smile turned feline, “Narcissus.”

He waited for more but when his friend didn’t go to elaborate – more interested with tracing his tongue in the hollow of Tarquin’s collarbone – Azriel did it for him. “It’s an alias, of course. But she had that look in her eyes, you know? Like she was one of us. It didn’t matter to me what her name was.”

Narcissus. The word struck a chord deep within Cassian. And even though he didn’t know her real name, he had to have her. He may go mad if he didn’t. Perhaps he already had. One of the staff girls melted from the shadows and spoked into Azriel’s ear. His gaze shifted to behind Rhys’ head and Cassian followed it with his own to a couple sitting a few tables down from them. She was halfway on her partner’s lap, rubbing idle circles into his splayed thigh and giggling at whatever he was whispering into her hair, while he met Azriel’s stare from the corner of his eye with wicked promise. Azriel’s lips tipped up lazily from one corner when he returned his heavy gaze back to his friends.

“The couple over there would like to express their praises,” He just said.

Cassian scoffed and Rhys waved an idle hand, “I’ll see you in the morning then, brother.”

Azriel stood and drained the rest of his drink before meeting Cassian eye with a slight tug of his mouth and flicking his chin in the general direction of the bar behind him. Cassian jerked his head over his shoulder and scanned the length of the bar. His attention snagged on a familiar small back, and stockings and stiletto clad legs hooked around the leg of a bar stool. He almost lurched from his seat as he looked back to the two men with him. But Azriel was gone. Already at the other table, one hand placed on the man’s shoulder and pressing a kiss onto the woman’s cheek. Tarquin was straddling Rhys. His friend lightly caressed a single finger up and down their spine while his other hand remained draped across the back of the lounge as the pair traded deep kisses that would have been inappropriate in any other public setting. Cassian and his two closest and longest friends; well, they never made the habit of saying goodbye to each other. He left the sitting area and headed for the bar.

Cassian stepped up to the bar just in time to hear a low voice ask the bartender, “scotch. Neat.”

He didn’t miss a beat. “From the finest bottle for the lady. And make it a double.”

The lady did not move to face the newcomer. Only with a slight tip of her chin, she watched him with piercing, unreadable eyes as he watched her. All of her: loose golden hair, long neck, straight back, legs crossed, one hand on her knee. She sat on that bar stool like it was her throne. She wore a slim black dress now, hiding nothing Cassian hadn’t already seen for himself when she was on that stage. He flexed his hand at his side and sent her a cool, suave smile.

“On the house,” he said as he settled into the stool next to the dancer. “For your captivating opening performance at the Lounge.”

When both drinks were handed to them, Cassian tipped his toward the woman and took a generous swig. “I’m-”

“I know who you are. Mister Khan,” she cut him off, luscious lips in a straight line and manicured nails rapping on the bar surface.

Cassian was thankful that he had already sat down, for he would have been rendered to his knees at the mere sound of her voice had he not. It was the slight curl of her tongue, and a curve of her lips, that gave it a breathy, raspy sound. She had a faint accent. French. If Cassian hadn’t already decided to take her to his bed, he most certainly did now. He wanted to know how his name would sound from those sinful lips. He wanted to know what her moans sounded like. Her cries of extasy. Her laugh.

“You are my boss, no?” She asked, peering over the rim of the crystal glass at her mouth.

I am if you want me to be. “Technically.” Along with Rhysand and Azriel, they all own equal shares of Velaris Lounge. “But I prefer the term benefactor.”

There it finally was. A small tug at the corner of her mouth. And Cassian relaxed, satisfied at the sight of it. She eyed the Cuban cigar that was still between Cassian’s fingers. Without any further prompt, he offered the unlit end to her. She took hold of it between two lithe fingers and brought it to her mouth. And Cassian watched in utter reverence. As if the scene unfolded before him in slow motion. Her lips wrapped around the thick end of the cigar. And Cassian’s hand curled hard around the edge of the table. shadows swarmed into the hollow of her cheeks, as she inhaled. And Cassian stopped breathing entirely. Her eyes flashed as she watched him the whole time. As if she could see. Somehow, in the dim, ambient lighting. The cinch in his jaw. The sudden, unbearable tightness in his pants. As if she could hear. Somehow, over the entrancing melody of jazz instruments. The depraved thoughts going through his mind. Of the way he ached to know what her lipstick would look like smudge all over his cock. And then, as if she knew. She curled her lips slightly around the cigar, before removing it from her mouth. Leaving behind a perfect imprint of her cardinal stained lips. Teeth grinding together, Cassian had to physically force down a groan.

Doing anything at all to wade through the thick haze of arousal clouding his mind, he rasped, “so how has the lounge been treating you so far.”

“This place is called the city of dreams, no?” she said, “I never believed that, until I came here. That it could be this simple.”

Cassian couldn’t help the pride that bloomed in his chest. One of us. Azriel had said. “What do you dream of?”

Her eyes wandered behind them to the stage, remained there for a heartbeat, then returned to him. Resolve glinted in them. “To have everything I’ve ever wanted.”

A dangerous smile overtook his features, “well, Velaris is the kind of place where getting everything you want is just the beginning.”

She turned in her seat to fully face him. The slit of her dress shifted in the process, exposing the entire length of her thigh and the laced hem of her thigh-high stockings around it. Cassian’s eyes dropped to it instantly. And like some compulsion, his idle hand went to ghost a single finger over it. She didn’t move away.

“And what is it that you want, mister Khan?” those words ran smooth from her lips, like the expensive scotch she held in her hand.

Cassian wanted to be set ablaze by the heat in her ember eyes.

“I want to know your real name, sweetheart.”

The woman blinked slowly. “Why should I tell you?” she breathed. Her voice now barely over a whisper. The casual glances to his lips occurred far more frequently.

“Because,” Cassian’s words turned heavy as the atmosphere became sharp, like a kindle before a flame, “I need to be able to remind you what it is when I’m fucking you so hard that you won’t remember it.”

If she was flustered at his crude language, she hadn’t shown it. Cassian had no doubt that a woman such as herself was used to receiving such propositions from all kinds of people. She only regarded him; one second, two seconds. Then, her eyelids fluttered, and her lips curved slowly. She smiled; that same secret smile she had given earlier. To no one in particular, on that stage where no one could take their eyes off her. She brought the cigar back to her mouth and took a long drag. The glowing end that illuminated the space between them was nothing compared to the inferno of desire raging within Cassian. Pinning him with an unwavering glaze, she leaned forward, as delicate tendrils of smoke curled around her blood-red lips like silver flames. The last of it danced along Cassian’s cheek when she drew close enough to whisper his damnation.

“Nesta.”

***

The first time he fucked her that night, they barely made it to the couch just beyond the foyer of his penthouse apartment. Cassian took Nesta as she was when he first laid eyes on her. Midnight laced lingerie, garter belt, thigh-high stockings, stilettos, and all. Her dress and coat, and his tie and suit jacket were promptly discarded somewhere by the front door, as he pushed her down on knees and elbows, and pressed her face firmly into the soft, cool surface. Cassian was enthralled, possessed, savaged. And he barely had half the mind to rip open a condom and roll it onto his cock, as he moved aside the damp slit of her panties to reveal a swollen, throbbing cunt. Nesta was ready for him. He had made sure of that when he spent the better part of the drive home with his hand up her dress, as cunning fingers rubbed at her clit over the rough material of her panties. He was pretty sure there would soon be a speeding ticket with his name on it. But he couldn’t bring his self to give a fuck. He only hoped that the image taken by the speeding camera; of Nesta moaning and writhing in the passenger seat of his European sports car, would dissuade the cops from sending it. Cassian wound his hand around the back of Nesta’s garter belt and fisted the other into her hair, as he fucked her in ruthless, powerful thrusts. He came, harder than he ever had in his life. Spilling into the condom inside of her with bruising fingertips and clenched teeth. And Nesta followed not seconds later, with Cassian groaning and uttering filthy fucking promises into her skin.

He fulfilled those promises, just moments later. When Nesta was barely over the throws of her earth-shattering orgasm. Her ruined panties and stilettoes were gone, and her lace bra was push down beneath the curve of her breasts. Her sensitive nipples puckered from the earlier onslaught of Cassian’s tongue and teeth. She mewled at the feeling of the heated skin of her ass pressing onto the cool granite surface when Cassian lifted her onto his dining table. Anticipation pooled in her eyes like molten silver when two rough hands spread her knees wide apart. Cassian never considered himself a religious man. But there was something so unequivocally holy in that moment; Nesta’s gasping and moaning her pleas in abandon, while Cassian knelt and worshipped her flesh. Fingers and tongue worked in expert harmony, as he tasted every inch of her sopping cunt.

When they finally made it to the bed, Nesta was bare down to only her stockings – at Cassian’s adamant insistence. Her soaked panties were left with his thousand-dollar suit; crumpled on the dining area floor. Her bra and garter belt were practically torn off and dumped along the way of their frantic journey to his bedroom. Her long, burnished gold hair was spread generously over his charcoal bed sheets, like golden silk on molten rock. Briefly, Cassian wondered if those lavish strands were long enough to brush against the plush carpet on the floor, while her head was tipped over the edge of his bed, and his hard length plunged deep into her awaiting mouth. Cassian banished the thought instantly, lest their latest coupling end far too soon for his liking. One stocking clad leg was thrown over his shoulder. While the other, was pressed into the memory foam mattress, held down hard by a large, muscled hand. Cassian was drunk on the sight of Nesta like this. She was wholly stretched out by him; beyond anything he has ever attempted before with anyone else. And he silently thanked whatever depraved God watching over them, for her lithe, dancer’s body that could take it, and then some.

The blush that began at her cheeks, slowly made its way down her neck and to her chest. Mascara was smudged around her glazed eyes; faint tracks of it running down her face and into her hairline. The sleek lines of her dark red lipstick were nothing but whispers of what it once was on those beautiful, luscious lips. Perfect, cock-sucking lips. No doubt Cassian would find the rest of it imprinted on his plush, Italian leather couch. At that point in the night, Nesta’s mouth was open in a constant ‘O’ shape. Her pink, wet tongue periodically coming out to tangle with his. She was a sight of pure debauchery. And it was nothing short of a masterpiece. With each powerful thrust, Nesta body jerked with the force of it, her supple breasts bouncing in tandem. And Cassian was hypnotised by the rhythmic movement of her hardened nipples.

Cassian had taken many women to his Californian king-size bed. Beautiful women. Exquisite women. Some of them shy, some of them playful. And most were downright sinful. But Nesta. Nesta, Nesta. Cassian Khan felt like one of the greats. Like fucking Michelangelo, like Sandro Botticelli. Seeing how he was making her writhe beneath him like that; manicured fingers twisted in the bed sheets, arched back, neck bared, skin painted in the soft glow of the spectrum of city lights glittering through the floor to ceiling windows. Seeing how she was open completely, and unyieldingly to him. Taunt flesh rippling under the pearly skin of her flat stomach. Her soddened, swollen cunt, stretched deliciously around his considerable girth. She was priceless renaissance painting that belonged in a museum for the world to see. The Dance of Narcissus, he would call it.

With a guttered groan, Cassian broke through the moans, the pants, and the slick sounds of rock-hard flesh rubbing against soft, wet flesh. “Sweetheart, your pussy is perfect. Like it was made for me.” He couldn’t look away. At Nesta stretched out before him. A precious oasis to a dying, dehydrated man. He would do anything. Give anything – his cock, his time, his money – to keep her coming back to his bed.

“One day, I’m going to fuck you raw. Would you like that, sweetheart?” Nesta could only whimper in response. Which spurred Cassian to go faster, deeper. Harder. “I’ll fuck you so hard. Stuff you so full of my cum, you won’t walk properly for a week.”

Cassian snaked his free hand up her body, fingers caressing over her sensitive skin along the way. He drove it into her hair and gripped harshly onto the strands at the back of her head. “You’ll get up on that stage, and dance for all those filthy-minded men. But it’ll be me dripping out of your tight, little pussy and down your gorgeous legs.”

“Cass!” Nesta cried out. Desperate to touch him, she reached out, digging her sharp nails into his tensed bicep. Cassian welcomed the pain.

“Fuck Nesta. So, fucking perfect for me.” He knew he was close to his release, but he wanted her clenching around him before that. With hard tug of her hair, he made Nesta look him in the eye. Cassian felt the muscles of her thigh trembling at her impending climax beneath the hand that held down her leg to the mattress. “One more time, sweetheart. Come for me, I know you can.”

Nesta shattered around him, just like that. Never taking her eyes from him the entire time, as she gasped and thrashed beneath him. Incoherent words spilt in between each heaved breath. Cassian could only comprehend a word here and there; it was mostly in French. And he didn’t stop. Even as she cried out, begging for reprieve. Begging for more. Cassian pushed her legs even further apart, driving deeper into her limp, pliant body, brushing against places that had never been touched. A bead of sweat rolled down the length of his forehead and nose, before landing in the valley of Nesta’s breasts. Cassian breath stuttered as his cock tightened. And there were barely seconds for him to pull out completely from her over-sensitive flesh. Nesta choked at the sudden loss, but Cassian ignored her muffled protests. In one swift motion, he ripped the condom from his throbbing cock, and pumped the exposed length, once, twice, thrice. And Cassian came undone. He shouted Nesta’s name as ribbons of cum painted her breasts and stomach. Nesta. Nesta. Nesta. He chanted her name over and, and over again. Until he was nothing. Until her name was but an imprint forever in his memory. A promise.

***

They had fucked one more time. Hours later, in the watery, grey light of dawn. Cassian awoke to soft mounds pressed against his back. To tongue and teeth dragging along the stubble on his jawline, and a delicate hand wrapped firmly around his erection. There was nothing separating their skin from head to toe. Nesta’s stocking were nowhere in sight. Not that Cassian cared to look anywhere beyond what was right in front of him at that moment. They shifted in unison, and she straddled him. Somehow, in all their lazy moments, Nesta had already rolled a condom it onto his shaft, while his eyelids were still heavy with sleep. And before he had the chance to touch her, she wordlessly sank onto him, teeth embedded into her bottom lip. Nesta waited, impaled on Cassian’s cock. Adjusting to his sheer size despite already having him twice before. Her flush was gone, but her skin was littered with the evidence of their carnal frenzy from merely hours ago. The first light of day, lit hair up like a golden vail spilling over her shoulders. She was breathtaking, so he told her. But she had not paid attention to his adorations. No, for the first time since they met the previous night. Nesta drank the entirely bare, magnificent sight of him. Her eyes ran over his rich brown skin. Every mountain and valley of muscle in his arms and abdomen. The notch of his throat. The sharp, brutal planes of his face. His molten, hazel eyes. The intricate black lines of ink that spanned his pectorals and biceps.

“Homme exquis.” Nesta murmured softly, as she lifted her hips.

Bodies, supple and hard, moved together. Deeply, and slowly with the rising sun. Chasing any lingering tastes of Cuban cigars and single-malt scotch. Once more. Cassian would want to have her once more, to match the frantic, carnal passion from the previous night. But he restrained himself. Being too content with that moment in the silence of an early morning. With Nesta tracing his tattoo with fingertips and tongue, and Cassian’s nosed buried into her damp hair. She must have showered while he slept. And he was consumed with the scent of him on her. He thought of her using his shampoo, his soap, his towel, and something small and warm burrowed deep within his chest.

They found their releases with each other, Nesta right after Cassian. And when Cassian emerged from his bathroom fifteen minutes later. A towel wrapped low around his sore hips, and tendrils of steam following his steps. Nesta was gone with the final shades of night. But promises of her remained, littered all over his apartment. Stockings draped over the bathroom rack next to a damp towel. A lace bra, hanging off his bedroom doorknob. Black panties laid out on his granite dining table. A garter belt slung over the back of the leather couch stained with cardinal lipstick kisses. Cassian kept them all with a secret smile on his face. Later, when the night would return in all its magnificent beauty. He would put on a fresh, expensive suit. And He would return to his castle. To his friends. To Nesta. And he would do it all over again.

[bowieandqueen11]

Howl Pendragon With a Sick Reader Headcanons

Request: Hey, I love your writing! I was wondering if you could write a HC of Howl taking care of a sick reader! 

I honestly never realised the Howl fandom was so big, so thank you for sending this in and reminding me how great you all are! <3

If you enjoy, please comment and reblog!

When Howl Pendragon had taken you, his spouse, out on a day trip to Porthaven Marshes, the vibrant fields where Howl first caught Calcifer, he had not expected it to rain as thunderously as it did.

He had wrapped his pink and yellow chequered cape around both your heads, before grabbing your hand and starting to run. You couldn’t help but giggle as the two of you slid across the dewy grass, rain scattering the pastel petals up onto your knees. His hair began to tickle your forehead, slick wet, his breath coming out in warm puffs against your face, but soon he started laughing too.

Until the two of you woke up the next morning (after a very long and very hot bath together when you jumped back into the castle and dumped your wet clothes by the fire place), and you began sneezing rapidly into his face.

Despite the fact that Howl is usually the over dramatic one, and the one who begs and whines for all the cuddles, hugs, little butterfly kisses and just any affection you can give him, is surprisingly on top of things when he realises you’re ill.

Something seems to switch in his brain, and he turns into super protective husband mode. 

He’s got poor Calcifer cooking so much chicken noodle, vegetable, minestrone soup, warming up hot water bottles and your blankets, as well as an assortment of herbal teas Howl had prepared on the kitchen table himself, that the poor fire demon almost puffs out with the effort of it.

Markl doesn’t fare much better: he’s sent out to buy vegetables, and honey, and ginger about ten times a day that he’s practically a blur up and down the stairs of the castle.

Every time he comes into the bedroom to check on you, he has to shove a few knickknacks and old magical jewellery boxes out of the way to make room for all the medicines he had concocted for you.

You kept telling him that you were fine, and you just needed to rest for a couple of days. However, when he sits down next to you on the bed, and you can see the way his eyes seem to dip down, filled with tears, his normally jubilant expression washed over with concern and guilt, all your words catch in your throat and you let him fuss over you.

It’s the small moments like these that make you realise how much Howl really does love you.

He ignores every visitor, ignores every urgent magical matter, or pressing note from Kingsbury, to instead spend every minute of every hour by your side. He has a pile of blankets tucked into your side, but his hand never leaves your head - placing a cold, wet rag onto your forehead, before biting his lip and pressing the back of his hand against it to check your temperature.

If he thinks it’s too hot, or too cold, you bet he ends up stuffing some soup, or some tea, or a thermometer into your mouth.

He becomes the SOFTEST man!!! Man can you just imagines his heart eyes at you??? The way he helps you around if you want to shower, or just need to move, the way he helps you change into one of his billowy, oversized shirts because they smell like him, and he wants at least a part of him to be in the room at all times??

No matter how much you try to shove him off, trying to stop him from getting ill himself, he just pouts and wraps his arms around your stomach even tighter. He takes the time to switch roles, so you’re the one with your head tucked into the dip of his neck, as his nimble fingers come up to twirl with the hair at the nape of your neck. He runs his fingers through your hair, gently massaging the top of your shoulders as he presses little warm kisses against your ear.

He uses his magic to fill the room with relaxing music and sounds of nature, soft notes swirling through the room and enveloping the two of you in what felt like a gold haze. If you can’t sleep, he’ll transform the ceiling, moving away all the jewels and beads to instead surround you in darkness. A few lights begin to burst forth from in front of your eyes, water colour splashes that dance and twinkle in front of your eyes.

You sigh in contentment, not noticing in the dark the way Howl’s gazing down at you, a broad grin on his face.

He begins humming a gentle song, a little rhyming fairy tale he heard a long time ago during his childhood days, before the two of you fall into a blissful sleep.

[alicanta77]

Finale: Glitter and Gold

Pairing: princess!y/n x prince!Chenle

Themes: royalty au, fluff, angst

Warnings: arranged marriage, violence, war, character death, injury, descriptions of injury and blood

Words: 11.5k

Inspiration: BTS - Blood, Sweat and Tears - orchestral cover

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5 - Finale

tag list: @hiqhkey @jaeshatshop @lebrookestore @honei-n @cheonsa1004 @haechans-sunflower @crispy-chan @rvse-hvvck @chezzontop​ 

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Note: This is it! The final chapter of Royal Blooded! I want to say a MASSIVE thank you to everyone who has read and supported this story. The first chapter of this story was published before I had 100 followers on here, and now, as we celebrate the finale, we have over 1500. I have grown so much throughout the 9 months of my life that I spent creating this world, and every word of support, every message, every ask about it means so much to me. I’m a little emotional that it’s ending because of how long I spent on it and how much I put into it, but I am so excited to look forwards at everything that’s coming next. Thank you for the love on this, and enjoy the finale!

Felix xox

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~ 6 months later ~

You held your head high as you walked towards the throne room. You had your main servant walking behind you and two guards escorting you on either side. Your shoes made small tapping noises on the stone floor with every step you took and your clothes and hair gently flowed in time to the repetitive movement. Your lady in waiting was smoothing out your dress as you moved, trying to make everything look perfect. You paused as she quickly adjusted one final piece of hair before giving you a loving smile and hug and wishing you well.

Your chest felt tight with nerves and you took a deep breath. Your dress was beautiful, the most expensive one you owned and you were made up to look more beautiful than you think you ever had before. Your mother had bought this dress for you and, as soon as you had seen it your jaw had dropped, the scarlet red colour complimented your skin tone perfectly and the gold details that swirled around to form the shape of dragons were captivating.

You knew that a dress like this would only be wearable on a day like today, the most important day of your life.

You approached the grand doors, nodding at the two knights guarding the entrance with a smile, both of whom bowed back before moving their spears and opening the grand doors for you.

The throne room appeared in all its glory. The metal chandelier hung from the ceiling, dangling above the engraved stone floors that were currently stood on by the entire court. The court and knights of your kingdom were all in neat rows on the left of the room, framed by the sculpted columns that ran up the walls, engraved with detailed patterns. On the right side of the great hall stood another court entirely. One which you had met once and had recently had the pleasure of getting to know better. Their red and gold emblems were proudly on display on their cloaks, letting everyone who saw them know that they were the court of the royal kingdom of Shanghai.

You remembered doing this over a year and a half ago, only then you had been meeting Chenle for the first time. If someone had told you just how much he would come to mean to you in such a short amount of time, you would never have believed them. You had thought it would take you years to fall for the boy you were arranged to marry, but life is funny like that. You look back now and you don’t see him as the boy you were arranged to love, but rather the boy you were destined to.

However, even with all this going on around you, you couldn’t take your eyes off the boy waiting for you at the end of the hall. He too was dressed in his finest clothes, the dark green and silver colours of your kingdom decorating his outfit. As you walked down the hall, dressed in the representative colours of Shanghai, his face split into the largest smile you had ever seen.

His eyes never left your face as you moved closer to him with every step, in fact, it took all of Chenle’s self restraint not to run towards you right there and then. You finally reached the front and Chenle offered a hand to help you up the few steps.

You accepted, your hands slotting together as if they were jigsaw pieces. You lifted your dress with your left hand, making sure not to step on it and accidentally rip it or, god forbid, face plant. You would never recover from the embarrassment if that happened.

Luckily you made it up the three stairs without any problems, but now you faced the challenge of speaking. You knew Chenle was going to speak first so you had time to mentally prepare yourself, but deep down you felt an overwhelming sense of serenity. You knew that you would be fine. You had been taking public speaking classes since you were young and you’d addressed more people than this in one go before. Just as with the stairs, you knew that nothing would happen, but your mind went to the worst case scenario. You just wanted this day to be perfect, after all, you were only doing it once.

You and Chenle tore your eyes away from each other as you turned your attention to the front, where your childhood tutor, now a well respected member of the court and keeper of the archives, was about to speak.

“We are gathered here today for the wedding and coronation of Prince Chenle and Princess y/n.”

~ flashback ~

“Will you marry me?”

The words left Chenle’s lips and it was as if they kick started your brain into action. You threw yourself at him, his arms catching you as the two of you hit the ground in a heap.

“Yes.” You cried repeatedly. “Yes, with all my heart.”

Chenle rolled the two of you over so that you were lying on top of him, the laughter that was emitting from the two of you radiated pure happiness. You sat up, kneeling next to Chenle as he gently grabbed your hand.

He held you so softly, his thumb gently caressing the back of your palm as he slipped the diamond onto your finger. A second passed in which the two of you stared at the jewel, the symbol of a silent promise to love each other until the end of time.

You looked up at him, eyes shining and his hands came up to cup your face. He pulled you in and you kissed him with everything you had.

You’d lost count of the amount of time you’d kissed Chenle, but this was different. This held so much more to it. It was as if it was a kiss that made all the other kisses on the planet seem pathetic. Love exploded between the two of you, your love, the kind of love that would last a lifetime.

You both pulled away, the need to breath breaking the captivating spell that Chenle had cast on you with that kiss. He leant down, resting his forehead on yours as you both closed your eyes and enjoyed being so close to the one you adored.

“I love you so much.” He whispered, afraid that if his words were any louder they would shatter the perfect moment.

“I love you more.” You whispered back, grinning as you heard Chenle chuckle quietly.

He pulled his forehead off yours only to replace it with his lips for a soft kiss.

“That’s not possible.”

~ flashback ends ~

The great hall was decorated with banners of both your kingdom and Shanghai. Ever since the engagement announcement, the castle had been in full on planning mode, preparing everything for this day to be perfect. There had been banquets, feasts and balls thrown in your honour, with gifts from kingdoms far and wide coming to the two of you in congratulations.

Word had been sent to Chenle’s family in Shanghai and they had announced that they would be coming to visit for the wedding. You had never felt happier than when you saw the smile on Chenle’s face when he was told he was going to see his family. His parents and three older brothers, Kun, Sicheng and Renjun, were all leaving Shanghai to attend, and they were planning on staying with you for a couple of days either side of the monumental event.

However, the good news about Chenle’s family came with bad news about yours. Your mother was frail, ill and barely eating anymore. She spent her days drowning herself in work so she didn’t have to focus on the cold empty space in her bed beside her. For the past 6 months she had worked diligently and done everything she could, but one night she came into your bedroom and quietly asked to speak to you and Chenle.

She told you that she didn’t think she could do it anymore, she didn’t think she could rule the kingdom. She explained that she had only managed to take on all the duties because she had had her husband, your father, by her side. But he wasn’t here anymore, and she couldn’t go on with the burden, it was simply too much for her to bear.

After a long and heavy conversation, your mother announced the next morning that she would soon be stepping down from ruling, and allowing you and Chenle to ascend to the thrones. She addressed her people, admitting to them that she was unfit to govern them and that she felt it was unfair to keep herself on the throne and deny them a better pair of rulers. She then proceeded to inform them that the wedding would be combined with the coronation so that you would be married and crowned on the same day.

You would be lying if you said that this hadn’t had an effect on you. You were already feeling the stress of your title, and you had been working closely with a group of advisors and your mother to introduce you to the world of being Queen. But, still, you were terrified. What if you weren’t a good ruler? What if you made a bad choice for your people? What if this affects your relationship with Chenle? You wouldn’t even get a chance to get used to being married before the role of King and Queen would be thrust upon you. But you forced yourself to ignore the growing voice in your head that filled your being with doubt. You had been preparing for this day your entire life, and now that it was here, you refused to let down those people who had helped you along the way. You would do your best, and make them proud.

So here you were. Standing next to the man you loved, about to promise your everything to him forever. Even though you had been filled to the brim with nerves before entering, as soon as you had locked eyes with Chenle, all of that had melted away. You knew that, as long as you had him by your side, the two of you could handle anything.

While the wedding was only attended to by family and members of the court, the celebrations ran throughout the entire kingdom, with all your people overjoyed at the beautiful ceremony.

You listened as the officiant went through the traditional wedding procedure, both you and Chenle replying with the rehearsed statements. His hand never left yours and you couldn’t express how relieved you were that it didn’t. The physical reassurance that he was there grounded you.

You turned to face each other, holding your joined hands out for the gold ribbon to be wrapped around them. The officiant continued to speak, his words about unity and strength reminding you of your father’s speech when Chenle first arrived with his family. So many things about this day were taking you back to the beginning, and the similarities were making you miss your father more than anything.

You felt a small squeeze on your hand and looked into Chenle’s soft brown eyes. He gave you a nod, one so minute that it would be unnoticeable to anyone who wasn’t you. You repeated the move to him, another reassurance that the two of you were there for each other, no matter what.

The officiant moved on to the vows, Chenle going first before you followed, saying the words you had recently memorised. Due to you both being royals, you couldn’t write personal vows and you had to stick to the scripture, but that didn’t mean that you didn’t mean every word. You meant it with your whole body when you promised to stand by him for as long as you lived, to look after him as best you could, and to support and love him no matter what. And from the look in your soon to be husband’s face, he meant every word he said too.

“Chenle, do you take y/n as your wife?”

“I do.” He spoke, sincerity strong in his voice and you didn’t bother to fight the smile that grew across your face at his certain words. The only thing you didn’t know, was that Chenle had never been so sure of anything in his life. 

“Y/n, do you take Chenle as your husband?”

“I do.” You repeated Chenle’s answer, your voice just as steady and sure as his had been, your mindset reflecting that as well.

You were still scared out of your mind at what was going to happen after today, but the thought of having Chenle by your side for the rest of your life, that didn’t scare you at all. No, that thought was the most comforting thing on the planet.

And that thought was just about to become your reality.

“I now pronounce you husband and wife.”

Chenle wasted absolutely no time, moving forwards before the officiant had even finished speaking, gently grabbing your face and pulling you in for a kiss. You smiled into the kiss, your hands coming up to rest on his waist.

The kiss wasn’t long, the awareness that your families and courts were watching you not quite having left your mind. But it held everything, the past years that you had known each other, your entire journey together into who you were now was told in the few seconds that Chenle’s lips pressed against yours. The clapping and cheers brought the two of you fully back to reality as you pulled back. You leaned back in for an even shorter kiss, officially sealing the eternal bond between the two of you.

“I love you.” You whispered, Chenle chuckling.

“That was my line.” You opened your eyes to look at him and he smiled down at you. “But I love you too.”

You both pulled away, as the claps gradually died down and the ceremony began to progress. The two of you barely had time to register the giant step you had just taken before you were being instructed to kneel in front of the thrones and the crowns were held above your head.

You were sure that it had taken longer than you realised, but you were so wrapped up in the feeling of loving Chenle, and how much he loved you, that it felt as though not even thirty seconds had passed.

And yet, here you were, repeating yet another set of responses that you had been taught, promising to protect and fairly govern the people, vowing to follow the example set by those who ruled before you and do whatever you can to live according to the traditions and customs of your kingdom.

As the final vows left both your lips, you felt the gold crown land on your head, the heaviness of the metal it was made out of, and the title it represent, weighing you down already.

“I crown you King Chenle. I crown you Queen y/n.”

With those words, you pulled your legs underneath you and stood, turning around to face the people of your courts. Chenle reached for your hand once again, this time you interlinked your fingers, intertwining your hands as a physical sign of the link between your kingdoms.

The throne room erupted in cheers and clapping once again, this time to an almost deafening volume. You and Chenle began to walk back down the middle, waving and smiling at those closest to you as you passed. You walked all the way out of the throne room and straight onto the balcony, ready to greet your people as their official rulers.

---

You stood just outside the balcony together waiting for the words that would signal the two of you to step outside. You hadn’t spoken to anyone yet, just waiting for you final duties of the day so that you could celebrate with your friends and families.

“Did you feel as though that went really quickly?” Chenle asked out of nowhere, making you jump slightly at the sudden noise before your eyes widened in agreement.

“It did! Leading up to the ceremony felt like an eternity, but then as soon as the ceremony began, it went in a flash. I’m not sure I was even there for half of it.” You muttered the last part, but Chenle’s sharp hearing caught your words none the less and he chuckled whilst muttering out a softer reply.

“Me neither. It kind of feels as though it hasn’t happened yet.”

“Exactly.” You didn’t realise how nervous you had still been until the realisation that you were both feeling the same way. You both fell into silence, it was comfortable but it still felt as though there was a lot that the two of you were leaving unsaid.

“You know-” Chenle paused his words to swallow his nerves, he hadn’t been this nervous around since the two of you met. “I’m starting to remember why I was so nervous for this marriage when I met you.”

You looked at him, the short distance between you suddenly feeling like a million miles.

“Me too.” You admitted softly. “It doesn’t matter how long we’ve known each other, there’s still a pressure for this marriage to be successful and for our kingdom to flourish.”

Chenle whispered a quiet “Yeah”, showing you that he was feeling exactly the same way.

“Chenle?” His eyes shot up from his feet to yours and you could see the nerves bubbling in them. He was chewing on the inside of his cheek and you took a step forward to grab on of the hands that he had behind his back. “Listen to me, I thought you weren’t nervous at all. Honestly, I thought I was the only one freaking out.”

“Trust me you weren’t.” Chenle said dryly, moving slightly so that he was facing you full on.

“I know that now, but I didn’t when I really needed to.”

“What are you saying?” Chenle asked, his brows creasing with worry at your soft words. He knew you only spoke with this tone of voice when you had something important to say to him.

“I’m saying we need to communicate. We need to tell each other the truth, talk about how we feel, both the good things, and the bad. We’re in this together, and that means we don’t need to be perfect for each other. We just need to be there.”

Chenle nodded, a small smile finally making it’s way onto his face as he pulled you closer by the hand that was already in his. His arms came to wrap around your shoulders and you fell into his arms for a hug. You felt his scent overcome you and drown your senses and you let out a deep sigh, feeling some of your worries and concerns leaving you with it.

“You’re right. I know you are and I promise to tell you when I’m stressing out of my mind or nervous to the point where my knees are shaking, especially if I can’t tell anyone else. We’re married now so that means you’re stuck with me no matter what.” Chenle looked down at you, grinning that signature grin of his that you fell in love with until a look of shock suddenly shot across his face. “Holy shit, we’re married!”

You stared at him in confusion.

“What did you think the wedding ceremony meant?” You asked him as Chenle waved you off.

“No, no, I mean, I knew we were married but I guess it’s starting to sink in that we’re really married. Like I get to have you by my side forever...” Chenle trailed off, his eyes never leaving your face.

You leaned up to him, pressing your lips together softly, before pulling back slightly and whispering:

“Well you better get used to it, because it’s you and me for the rest of time now.”

A trumpet riff interrupted your moment, signalling that your time was almost upon you. You and Chenle got into position just as the doors in front of you opened and you prepared to greet your people.

You walked out into the sunlight, the sound of cheers and shouts overwhelming you as you waved to the citizens you had just promised to govern. Chenle’s hand found you once more, holding onto it tightly and pulling you slightly closer as he waved with his free hand. His grip remained tight, and you squeezed it reassuringly leaning in so that only he could hear before saying “I got you” and he seemed to relax. His grip loosened slightly and his smile faded into a genuine expression of joy and awe and you grinned, knowing that you loved him more than anything else on this planet.

The announcer lifted his hand, calling for momentary silence as he uttered the words that were followed by the largest cheer and celebration of them all.

“May I present, for the first time, the King and Queen of Ivairis!”

---

You laughed as Chenle twirled you around in time to the music, before pulling you back in and dipping you gently. You’d lost track of how long the celebrations had been going on for, but the music and lights had hypnotised you into staying longer and longer to enjoy the night. 

You’d had the pleasure of meeting Chenle’s brothers as well. Kun was first in line for the throne, he was also married and honestly was the epitome of a perfect heir. Sicheng was second in line for the throne and, before you had met you had been slightly intimidated by him. After meeting him, however you had learnt he was one of the nicest people and so easy to get along with. Family was everything to him, and he spent most of his time working with new recruits for the Shanghai army.

Renjun was closest in age to Chenle, with only a year and a half separating them, and it was clear that they were closest to each other. Chenle had previously confided in you that, since he had three brothers, he hadn’t had much attention from his parents when he was young, and it was Renjun who was there for him. It was Renjun who had essentially shown him how to learn to grow up. Their casual bickering provided you with huge amounts of entertainment, but it was clear that they cherished each other dearly, and Renjun was so proud of everything Chenle had accomplished here.

The most bittersweet moment however, came when Chenle’s father approached you and asked to dance. He had the same kind smile on his face that he always wore and you easily agreed. He led you out onto the dance floor, just as he did the day Chenle first arrived at Ivairis.

“You two have come a long way since the last time we met.” King Zhong commented, a twinkle in his eyes that made you smile.

“You gave me some good advice.” You admitted to him. “When you came here, and we danced you told me: don’t rush this. And that was the best piece of advice anyone has ever given me. I feel like I married my best friend.”

King Zhong smiled down at you, blinking twice as he tried to figure out the best way to say his next words.

“Y/n-” You looked up at him as he paused, before swallowing and continuing. “I know how much you must have wanted your father to be here, he was such a brilliant man and I’m so sorry he couldn’t be with us today.”

“Me too.” You whispered, just loud enough to be heard over the music and people chatting in the background.

“I know that no one else will say this to you, so I will.” You looked up once again, to see him looking down at you with an expression that reminded you so much of your own father that it brought tears to your eyes. “I’m proud of you.”

You felt even more tears gather rapidly in your eyes at that, and you blinked repeatedly to keep them at bay. Chenle’s father’s hands came up to rest on your shoulders and hugged you. You hugged him back, feeling the fatherly warmth from his hug calm you down slightly.

“Thank you.” You said as he pulled back and smiled at you. He nodded at you, patting you on the head gently before the two of you continued to dance. You couldn’t quite describe the comfort that his words had brought you. Deep down you knew your father would be proud of you and all you had accomplished, you just wish he had been here to see it happen.

The song that was playing came to a stop, and you stepped away to clap for the musicians. You and Chenle’s father smiled at each other, before you excused yourself to the sides, needing a short break. You stood quietly and just observed the scene in front of you. There were countless members of the courts of Shanghai and Ivairis dancing together, you saw Chenle’s parents dancing in the middle as well, Renjun was speaking to Jisung by the side, saying something that caused Jisung to stare at the older boy with his eyes wide in amazement. Over on the other side of the hall were Taeyong, Jaehyun, Sicheng and Kun, all immersed in deep conversation and you could see both Jaemin and Jeno heading over to join the conversation. In fact you could see everyone except for-

“Hi love.” You felt a soft kiss on your cheek as you turned to your left and saw how Chenle had snuck up on you without you noticing.

“Hi.” You replied, smiling up at him.

“I was thinking, do you remember the celebration when we came back from the battle against Odin’s kingdom?” You nodded at his words and he carried on. “Well, what would you say about going back into the town again? Not just us though, opening the doors to the palace and courtyard and bringing the musicians outside so that the court and citizens can all celebrate as one?”

“Chenle...” You breathed. “I think that’s an amazing idea.”

His face split into a wide grin at your words and you both immediately moved to put his plan into action. You split up to find different guards who were on the doors, and explain to them what you would like to do. They seemed slightly hesitant, as this had never been done before, but they couldn’t disagree with their new King and Queen so they did exactly as you asked. You walked back into the hall, finding Chenle there waiting for you and the door remained open after you had arrived. 

You slipped your hand into Chenle’s and he squeezed it gently, while signalling the musicians to stop playing. An air of confusion came over the room as every single pair of eyes came to rest on the two of you.

“Whenever we have a celebration, it seems to be split in two, with a chosen few celebrating in the castle, and the rest down in the town. The Queen and I would like to change this.”

“Indeed.” You took over from Chenle, your voice strong as you addressed the courts. “The whole emphasis of this marriage and alliance is on unity, and so, as we stand united in two different kingdoms, we will also stand united with all our people. We would like to invite you to join us as we go into the lower town for the rest of the night.”

There were a few murmurs amongst the crowd, but most people nodded and smiled in agreement, understanding your point on unity. You gestured for the musicians to come first, allowing them to be set up amongst the others playing in the lower towns before the rest of you began to move. You and Chenle were amongst the last people to leave, with only Jisung behind you.

He was grinning at the two of you like the Cheshire cat, shaking his head slightly as he chuckled.

“What is it?” Chenle asked his friend, rolling his eyes jokingly.

“Only the two of you would do something like this. In your first few hours as King and Queen, you break up an age-old tradition because of the separation and divide it causes. Only you would realise that and take the step to do something about it.” Jisung shrugged, brushing off his own words as if they were meaningless, but you knew he knew how much they meant to Chenle and yourself. If your marriage was supposed to bring unity, you had to make sure that you were making sure that it did. “Come on then, let’s go dance!”

He stepped in between the two of you, throwing his arms over each of your shoulders as the three of you burst out into laughter and headed into the lower town together, ready to dance the night away.

---

Both you and Chenle relied heavily on advisors during your first months of ruling. You mother stepped down and completely away from royal duties and, even though you felt as though you needed her guidance at times, you couldn’t ask her for help. She barely remembered who you were anymore, much less how to rule a kingdom. You visited her everyday, as did Chenle, and each time hurt more than the last. Watching the clouds pass over your mother’s mind as she struggles to place the face of the child who she cared for and loved all her life, was an indescribable pain.

She always remembered you eventually, something that you counted yourself very lucky for. You remember sitting by her bed, holding her hand as you spoke to her late one evening, telling her about a successful conclusion that you had come to during a council meeting that day.

“You’re doing so well my dear.” She spoke, her voice gravelly as if her throat was constantly dry.

“I’m trying.” You replied, forcing a smile on your face so that she wouldn’t see how tired you were. “I’ll make you proud.”

Your mother tightened her grip on your hand, encouraging you to look her in the eyes as she spoke again. 

“You already have.”

She passed away that night.

You were almost relieved that her suffering was over, but her loss hit both you and Chenle very hard. She had become a second mother to him, and you knew how much he loved her. The night you both lost her, you stayed together, hugging each other and crying, just allowing yourselves to be vulnerable before you had to put on another strong appearance for your people when you appeared for the funeral.

Her funeral was identical to your fathers. She was laid, in her best clothes, softly in a long boat, decorated with flowers and pushed down along the river. You held Chenle’s shaking hand in your own as you both whispered your goodbyes into the lanterns and let them fly off into the sky. Allowing your mother to finally be reunited with the man she loved.

You walked back into your shared room, breathing out a heavy sigh as the doors closed behind you and you could finally drop the act you’d been holding all day. Sitting in those meetings, talking with different noblemen of the court about petty details, you had never felt more alone.

You were struggling to come to terms with the fact that you held the entire responsibility of this kingdom on your shoulders, and you didn’t have your parents to show you how to do it anymore. You rested your back against your door, and allowed your knees to give out and for you to sink to the floor.

Once you softly hit the ground you just sat there. You didn’t cry, you didn’t speak, you didn’t move. You just sat there, listening to the sounds of the kingdom around you. You shut your eyes, allowing yourself to get lost in your mind as time passed you by.

A knock on your door forced you to open your eyes and pull yourself back into reality. You stood up and quickly opened your door, finding one of your main advisors there with the paperwork for tomorrow’s sessions. You thanked him, accepting the documents and closed the door once more.

You stepped further into your room, placing the papers down on the desk you had before turning around, planning to lie down on your bed, but your gaze was caught by a figure standing on your balcony.

He had his back to you and was leaning over, but you knew without needing to see his face that it was Chenle. From the way that he was hunched over the balcony to the way he rolled his scarred shoulder every so often to keep the injured muscle moving, you knew he was deep in thought. You debated whether you should go out to see him, wondering if it was best to just leave him thinking, and eventually you turned away, deciding to leave him to his thoughts.

You pulled off your shoes, removed your jewellery and combed through your hair with your fingers. You looked at the small pile of jewellery on your dresser,  before reaching down slowly and picking up the silver ring that bared the royal seal of Ivairis. Your bottom lip began to tremble as your mind was flooded with memories of your parents and your childhood. From your mother gently tying up your hair in the mornings, to your father bringing you along to meetings and you hiding behind his legs.

You dropped the ring, your head falling into your hands as you finally let the tears fall. Your breath shortened as you quietly sobbed into your hands, hiccuping as you tried to catch your breath. You needed to see Chenle. You stood up, whirling around to run out to the balcony, but instead you were greeted with him standing in front of you. He had come back inside, and you had been so lost in your sadness that you hadn’t realised. 

The two of you stood there, staring at each other, both having red eyes and countless tear tracks down your faces. Chenle said nothing, and instead just opened his arms and you ran into them, the force of your bodies colliding making him take a step back to steady the two of you, but it didn’t matter.

You completely broke down, sobbing into his shoulder as Chenle tried to console you. He gently stroked your head with one hand, the other resting comfortably on your waist as he whispered soft words of comfort into your ear. It didn’t seem to be helping as your crying wasn’t stopping at all.

Chenle’s voice broke more as he tried to talk and all it took was you tightening your grip on him for him to give up on trying to hold it together. He buried his face into your shoulder and let the grief overcome him, crying for the people who took him in and gave him a home.

You both held onto each other for dear life, as if the other would slip through your fingers if you let go for a second. It took a while for you to calm down, feeling as though you only stopped crying because you ran out of tears. You brought your hand up to the back of Chenle’s head, running your fingers through his hair and placing a feather light kiss to his temple.

Even after the two of you calmed down, the sadness was still there, drowning your every thought.

“I’m not ready to be Queen.” You admitted, your voice so quiet, as if you were scared for the words to come out. “I thought I’d have more time, I thought I’d be able to get used to the idea of doing it by myself but I’m not. I’m not ready for any of this, I don’t know what I’m doing.”

“I’m not ready either.” Chenle croaked back, his voice sore from the amount of crying he had done already that night. “My parents may still be alive, but they aren’t here, they aren’t close and I can’t contact them easily enough to ask for help when I need it. I just feel... isolated.” Chenle voice broke once again as he pushed his head further into your shoulder.

“Me too. I’ve never felt this alone.” You whispered, not trusting your voice to speak any louder.

This time Chenle didn’t reply, instead just silently nodding as he held you close. You both understood that you didn’t need advice, or a solution. At least, not yet, right now, all you needed, was to tell the other how you felt. Finally saying the words, admitting the overwhelming emotions that had been weighing you down for the past few months, had already made you feel lighter. 

He pulled his head out from your shoulder to rest his forehead on yours. You breathed out, leaning into him as he kept his comforting grip on you. Your eyes were closed, as your mind focused on the one fact that Chenle was standing right there with you, and he understood how you felt.

“I’m sorry.” His quiet whisper making you open your eyes in confusion.

“What for?” You asked and Chenle sighed, as if he was preparing to get something off his chest.

“For not telling you. We made a deal on our wedding day to always be honest with each other about how we were feeling, and I didn’t tell you, and now we’re both here breaking down...”

“Chenle... I’m sorry too. You weren’t the only one keeping things to yourself.” You swallowed, before finally pulling your forehead off his and losing at him straight on. “We aren’t used to this. And I don’t just mean being King and Queen, I mean all of it. We aren’t used to being married, we aren’t used to be sole rulers, we aren’t used to being alone. We had just got married when we then got crowned what felt like five minutes after.”

“We need to figure out who we are as a King and Queen, and who we are as husband and wife. And they don’t necessarily need to be the same people.” You nodded at Chenle’s words before adding onto them with your own.

“There’s so much pressure on this, and I think a lot of that is coming from us. We need to take a step back from being this groundbreaking alliance, and just be us. Chenle and y/n, just two people in love, not the King and Queen of Ivairis whose wedding united lands for generations to come. We don’t need to be our titles, we just need to be-”

“Us.” Chenle finished and you nodded. “And we need to mean it this time. We can’t just say that we’re going to be honest and open with each other and then keep things to ourselves. We’re a team. It’s you and me y/n, and nothing is going to change that.”

You leaned up, closing the small distance between the two of you and pressing your lips to his. He kissed you back, sighing into it slightly before you both pulled away. The kiss was short, but it was enough. It was a promise.

You weren’t just these young kids in love anymore, trying to figure out the best way to spend time with their crush. You were grown adults, married, ruling a kingdom, but no matter how far you went, or how much you grew, you knew that Chenle would always be by your side. You knew that now better than ever.

And for the first time in a long while, neither of you felt alone.

---

You and Chenle kept to your promise, coming to talk to each other, to trust the other to be vulnerable with the smallest of details. Whether it was a certain knight in training being a bit arrogant, or a trade deal you were unsure was worth you signing off on, you shared it with each other. Your close bond as husband and wife translated into your royal duties and you found yourselves settling into a good rhythm as King and Queen. 

But nothing good lasts forever.

You and Chenle stayed late after a particularly gruelling council session. The repairs to the outlying villages were almost complete, and the bandit attacks had decreased to them being almost non-existent. A few more supplies were being organised to be sent down, and Chenle was still keen on the idea of training some of the people in the outlying villagers so that, if a bandit attack does happen, they can defend themselves. However, a couple of council members were arguing that it would be a waste of resources to train them, which resulted in a lengthy discussion that lasted for much longer than planned.

With both you and Chenle in agreement however, there was not much that the council men could do against it once the decision had been made. They would send some knights down to the outlying villages to train the few they could, and then that knowledge would be passed down from generation to generation, with knights arriving every once in a while to help out and make sure the correct technique was being practiced.

You quickly instructed a messenger to deliver this note the following morning, thinking that nobody needs to be disturbed this late. The two of you were looking over the plans, deciding on the knights who would go when the doors to the great hall burst open and a scout of yours came running in.

“Mark, what’s wrong?” Chenle asked worriedly, noticing the look of panic on the older boy’s face.

“Fayre’s kingdom, your majesty. They heard of the Queen’s mother passing and that the two of you ascended to the throne and they think you’ll be weak. They’re planning to attack Ivairis with the full force of their army.” Mark relayed the bad news, breathing heavily as he tried to recover from his rush to the palace.

“Oh god.” You breathed, your hand coming to your face in shock. This was not good. Fayre was one of the strongest and bloodthirsty kings around, and if he wanted Ivairis, chances were he wouldn’t stop until he had it.

You and Chenle shared one look and knew that you had to act fast. Chenle called for the guards to bring in his closest knights, two scouts and a messenger, while you whirled on Mark to ask him more questions.

“When did their army leave?” 

“Three days ago, I rushed to get back here to warn you before them.”

“Thank you Mark, you may have saved us by doing that. If they left three days ago, they still have at least two before they reach us here, meaning we could send our army out to meet them somewhere we choose.” You thought out loud, Mark rapidly nodding his head next to you.

Chenle reappeared out of nowhere, you not even having noticed he’d left in your state of panic. His arms held a bunch of rolled up papers that depicted the maps of the surrounding lands.

“I’m way ahead of you.” He said, placing them all on the round table in front of you as you rolled them out and moved them into position.

You were lining up details to get a larger picture when the people Chenle had summoned began to arrive. Jisung came first, the head of the royal guard was always ready to be called for his job, with both Jeno and Taeyong close behind. The two scouts, Yangyang and Shotaro came next, with Jaemin close behind and Jaehyun and the other messenger Xiaojun arrived last.

You didn’t both to tell them to take a seat or to greet them, the stakes were simply too high. Instead you just told them the news straight away, not wasting time by sugarcoating it or easing into it at all.

“Fayre is planning to attack Ivairis.”

You heard a chorus of worried inhales of breath, signalling the panic that the rest of the group were feeling. You nodded at Mark, allowing him to explain the rest of the details.

“They left their kingdom three days ago and were travelling south, aiming to take this route here to avoid getting spotted by the Ivairis patrol. As far as I’m aware, this plan wasn’t changed, meaning that, as long as nothing disrupts their route, they should reach Ivairis by sunset in two days time and will likely attack the following morning.”

“Our best shot is heading out to meet them somewhere, like we did with Odin’s kingdom.” Jisung spoke first, the rest nodding in agreement. “I would place my bets on somewhere like here.” He reached forwards and circled a certain spot on the map. “It’s not sheltered, so there’s no chance for a surprise attack. While that limits our chances of coming up with one ourselves, Fayre destroys his enemies by drawing them in and then having a second plan up his sleeve.”

“Jisung’s right.” Taeyong said, all eyes flicking towards him as he spoke. “We can’t try to outsmart him by using his own tactics against him, that’s how people get killed. We need to force him into a situation where he has to fight us on our terms, that’s our best shot.”

“Xiaojun-” Chenle called out, the boy’s head shooting up at his king’s voice. “I need you to send word to Shanghai, tell them of the severity of the situation and that we need reinforcements as soon as possible.” Xiaojun nodded, quickly making a note of the battle location before disappearing.

You turned to the other two scouts.

“Yangyang, Shotaro, you need to scout the army. Get us a rough idea of numbers and see if there’s any weak spots. There won’t be enough time for you to report back to us here so you’ll need to tell the army when they arrive at the battle location, understand?” Both of the boys nodded at your words, before heading back out of the door to go do as you asked.

“What about me?” Mark asked, but you shook your head.

“You’ve done enough Mark.” You said, not allowing him to put himself in danger again.

“But they trust me, I could find out more insider information, I-”

“No, Mark.” Chenle cut him off. “Y/n’s right, you’ve done more than enough. Without you we would never stand a chance, that’s for sure. Plus as soon as we meet them they will know that we had a man on the inside, and it won’t take long for them to figure out it’s you. We can’t put you in that danger.”

Mark nodded, understanding your decision before you both thanked him again and allowed him to go for the night.

“What about us?” Jaehyun asked and Chenle turned to look at the remaining knights, his face grave.

“Be ready to prepare the troops in the morning. We’re going to war.”

---

One night. That was all it took for your world to be thrown upside down. In one night you had gone from council meetings and rebuilding the outlying villages to sending the man you loved off to war. You were standing in your joint room, watching as he finished getting dressed just as the first rays of light were appearing through the window. You walked towards him, silently taking the necklace out of his hands and fastening it yourself.

He turned around to face you but you didn’t take your gaze off the jewellery he was wearing. He wore it everyday, a simple necklace with two seals on it. One being the royal seal of Shanghai and the other being the royal seal of Ivairis. The symbol of his two nations. Chenle noticed you avoiding his gaze and brought his hands to your face, gently cupping your jaw and guiding you to look at him.

He leant in, placing a kiss on your forehead and your hand gripped at the fabric around his waist.

“If things aren’t going well-”

“Stop.” You said, not wanting to hear about what would happen if they lost this war. If they lost, Chenle would be dead, and you didn’t want to think about the possibility of that happening.

“Listen.” Chenle commanded softly. “If things aren’t going well, I’ll send a Shanghai messenger back here. You need to get as many of our people as you can, and take them with you to Shanghai. I made sure Xiaojun mentioned in the message the possibility of that happening and I know they would look after you. They reassured us we always have a home there, and I know that would apply to you if I don’t come back from this.” Your hands tightened their grip around his shirt at his words. “If anything happens to me... I need to know that you’ll be safe.”

You nodded silently and Chenle breathed a sigh of relief at your agreement, moving his hands from your face to around your shoulders to hug you close as you did the same around his waist. You buried your face in his chest, breathing in as much of him as you could before you had to let him go.

You walked with him through the castle, your hand held tightly in his as you both approached the main doors. You knew that beyond those doors stood your entire army, waiting for their king to lead them into battle. You suddenly stopped moving, causing Chenle to turn back in confusion.

You stared at him for a second, trying to find the right words to say before just throwing your arms around his neck and hugging him as tightly as you could. Chenle caught you, wrapping his own arms around your waist and squeezing his eyes shut as he tried to make this fleeting moment last forever.

“Come back to me.” You whispered.

“I promise.”

---

It had been a month.

An entire month and the only sign you’d had that they were still alive were the two letters from the Shanghai reinforcements sending word to you that they had arrived at the battlefield to help. The knowledge that they had extra men fighting with them was reassuring, but not hearing a single word from Chenle, not knowing if he was even alive, for a whole month was tearing you apart.

The entire kingdom had been in a state of fear. The outlying villages had been told to be prepared to move into the citadel in case the battle was lost so that they could barricade themselves in and be protected. Every citizen had their nerves on fire for the past month as they all waited for any kind of news.

You had been in the weekly review of the tax collection when the sound of horses hooves caught your attention. The entire table froze, knowing that, one way or another, the battle was over. The doors to the great hall burst open and Mark appeared, nodding at you, a relieved expression on his face.

“It’s them.”

You dropped the paper in your hand, standing up and running out of the hall. You ran down the corridors, Mark by your side and you didn’t stop for anything. Various other members of the court and servants in the castle joined you as they all were eager to welcome the knights home, but all you cared about was finding Chenle.

You burst out of the front doors just in time to see the last of the knights trickle back in. Your jaw dropped, nothing could have prepared you for the sight in front of you.

Out of all the knights who went to battle, only around a fifth of them made it back. Your eyes did a desperate scan of the faces of the live men. You saw Taeyong, who had his left arm in a makeshift sling, Jaehyun and Jaemin were carrying an unresponsive Jeno between them, the large red stain on Jeno’s shirt giving away that he was seriously injured, and Jisung was standing further down the steps in front of you.

You couldn’t see Chenle anywhere.

Jisung took a few steps towards you, limping heavily, and you rushed down to him, throwing your arms around him in a hug.

He caught you with a grunt and you tried to apologise but the words got stuck in your throat. You were shaking slightly in his hold but Jisung still hugged you tightly, relieved to be back home.

“We won.” He whispered, and you nodded slowly at his words before pulling back.

“At what cost?” You asked, too scared to directly voice the question that was plaguing your mind.

Did Chenle survive?

“He’s alive. The last I saw him, he was alive.” Jisung answered your unasked question, a small ounce of relief flooding your system, but it didn’t nothing to calm the furious fear at the fact that nobody knew where he was.

You took a couple of steps back to find all the knights looking at you for your words. You found that you didn’t even know what to say to them, how could you comfort someone who has been through the ordeal they have?

You cleared your throat before addressing the men in front of you.

“Our brave knights. There are no words to describe how thankful we are to you for everything you have done for us. You bravery and sacrifice will never be forgotten. Today, we will have our traditional victory procession, and I would like to add a moment at the end, for anyone to address anything they would wish to. And to speak to or about anyone they may have lost. Please go to the court physician and your people in Ivairis are eternally indebted to you.” Your voice broke slightly at the end and the knights all nodded at you in appreciation.

They each headed inside one by one, only Jisung, Jaehyun, Jaemin and Jeno remained. A few members of the medical team rushed out, taking Jeno’s limp body from Jaehyun and Jaemin and carrying him inside, shouting out various treatments. Jaehyun squeezed your shoulder as he went inside, the exhaustion clear on his face. Jaemin stepped up but paused for a minute and turned to face you.

“Thank you, for adding that opportunity at the end. We lost a lot of men out there and I know people will want to address it.”

With that he headed inside, leaving just you and Jisung standing there looking at each other. Jisung opened his mouth to speak but you got there first.

“Go to the court physician Jisung. Please get yourself checked out and your wounds treated first.”

He closed his mouth, nodding at you before moving past you and entering the castle. You turned you gaze on the now empty courtyard, the men having cleared out and the horses having been retrieved. You took a few shaky breaths, waiting a few extra seconds, staring wistfully at the gate, praying that by some miracle Chenle would come riding through. But he didn’t. So you shut your eyes, took a deep breath, and turned back into the castle, the doors closing behind you.

---

The victory procession was bittersweet. The knights were acknowledged for their hard work and struggles, and nobody tried to deny that this had been a heart wrenching battle. The celebrations were half hearted however, the entire kingdom feeling the loss of so many knights and the king that they were all missing. The toasts at the end brought tears to your eyes as the knight took it in turns to remember their fallen friends.

And through it all, anyone could tell that the entire kingdom was terrified that their king wouldn’t come back. The king who every citizen had grown to love and admire. The king who set an example for all future kings, who acted as a king should, the king who you were lucky enough to call your husband, your love.

You removed your final piece of jewellery, staring at yourself in the mirror as you tried to figure out the whirlpool of emotions in your head. The knock at your bedroom door made your head snap towards it as you called out for whoever it was to enter. Jisung’s head poked around the door, and you couldn’t help but feel slightly disappointed.

You had known Jisung almost your entire life, and you had never seen him look this broken. He took a couple of steps into your room before looking questioningly at your bed, asking silently for permission. You gestured for him to sit, moving over to join him yourself.

“I think I should tell you what I know.”

You nodded, not trusting yourself to speak quite yet.

“It was the final day. We knew it was coming to an end, we could all feel it. It’s hard to describe but there’s a difference in the air. On the final night, the king names someone he wants to be in charge of the army in case...” Jisung swallowed as he continued trying to get the words out. “In case he’s killed. Chenle chose me. The next morning, just before we went out, Chenle told me to do whatever I could to get this back to you.”

It was only then that you noticed Jisung had been holding something ever since he stepped foot into your room. He lifted up the object and you recognised it immediately. He placed it gently in your hands, watching as you turned it over in your fingers.

It was Chenle’s necklace.

“I didn’t see him after that.” Jisung’s voice brought you to tear your eyes away from the necklace in your lap and look back up at him. “I lost sight of him in battle. I know it sounds like he didn’t make it but- we scoured every inch of the battlefield after we won, there was no sign of Chenle among the bodies, nor was he taken captive by Fayre either because we searched their base. Aspen was missing too. Chenle is out there, alive and trying to make his way back here to you. And he will, he has to.”

You let your eyes flicker back down to Chenle’s necklace for a second before looking back up at Jisung.

“Thank you.” You whispered. “It’s been a long day, you should get some sleep.”

Jisung nodded, standing quickly and heading back out the same door he entered through. You didn’t from move your position, instead sitting in the same spot for the next few hours, turning the seals over and over in your fingers, wondering if Chenle would ever find his way back.

---

You were sat in the throne room, having just finished a meeting with the keeper of the archives to document the battle. Labelling Chenle as missing was something you had hoped you would never have to do, but there you were, drawing your signature on that very slip of paper. You really understood your mother’s words now when she said that she only felt as though she could rule when she had the person she loved by her side.

Because you didn’t just feel alone without Chenle, you felt completely and utterly lost.

A guard appears, telling you that there is a messenger for you, and you gesture for them to be let in. Yangyang strolls through the door, and you can’t help the small smile that appears on your face at sight of his much larger, contagious one.

“I have good news!” He announced, making you raise your eyebrows. “News of the victory travelled fast around kingdoms both close by and far away, and any thoughts off attacking Ivairis have been wiped off the map. Between the strength of our army and the alliance with Shanghai, the kingdom is almost invincible.”

You let out a breath of disbelief, smiling lightly at the boy in front of you as the news settled. Ivairis was safe. You asked Yangyang to spread the news around the kingdom, allow everyone to revel in the announcement and he gladly agreed before running out of the room so fast he left the door open.

You chuckled slightly at the sight of him, but the smile on your face faded quickly as the thought of Chenle travelled through your head. Another two weeks had passed but he was still missing. Nobody had heard a word from or about him since the final day in battle, and the fear that you were never going to see him again had become your natural state of mind.

You looked out of the window on your left, staring down at the rose buses and stone bench that sat there. You felt all the memories rush through your head of the times you and Chenle had sat on that very bench. You still remembered walking past it in the first few days of Chenle arriving, when you had given him a tour around the grounds. Though he would deny it within an inch of his life, Chenle had a soft spot for flowers and loved nothing more than spending a day surrounded with flowers of all different kinds.

You sighed out once more, closing your eyes to stop the tears that were threatening to fall.

“You promised you’d come back to me...” You spoke to the empty room, your voice wavering heavily.

You rested your head on the glass, lost in your own mind when a voice cut through. Your eyes shot open and you whirled around to be greeted with the person you thought you would never see again, the person you loved more than anything else in this world, more than life itself.

“Have I ever broken my promises?”

Chenle.

The world stopped when you saw him. You didn’t blink, didn’t move, didn’t even breathe, terrified that if you did, the image of him would disappear and you would be left with the reality that didn’t have him in it.

He took a step forward, standing in front of you and reaching up to tuck a stay piece of hair behind your ear. You lifted a shaky hand to his face, pressing your palm against his cheek and taking in the fact that he was stood in front of you.

“Chenle...” You whispered, trying to convince yourself that this was real life.

He nodded at your words, tears filling his eyes at the sight of you after so long. When it sunk in it hit you like a ton of bricks. You threw your arms around him and broke down, sobbing into his shoulder.

“Oh my god, Chenle. You made it back.” You cried, holding him tighter that you ever had before.

“Of course I did, I could never leave you like that.” He whispered, his quiet voice a stark contrast to your broken one.

His arms were securely around your waist, capturing you next to his being. You could feel that he was smaller, having lost weight when he was lost and trying to get back. He had dirt in his hair, and various bruises and other minor injuries that you could see, but he was here. He was here, in your arms, alive.

You pulled back, bringing one hand to rest on his cheek as you pressed your foreheads together.

“I love you so much.” You breathed, the tears still steadily falling down your cheeks.

“I love you more.” He replied, relaxing in the knowledge that he was home. He was standing in your arms, surrounded by his kingdom.

Chenle was home.

---

~ 10 years later ~

“So we are in agreement?” You asked the court, looking around the round table and seeing all the other heads of the men and women present nodding at your words. “Well in that case, we can call it a day here. Thank you for your input.”

You stood, smiling at the people in front of you as they all left the room.

“Ten years and council meetings are still as dull as the first one.” You muttered to yourself.

“I hear that.” A voice replied, making your eyes shoot up. You found yourself looking at your husband, who was leaning against the door with a cheeky grin on his face. “But if we want to set a good example, we should probably pretend they are.”

You shook your head, chuckling to yourself at his words. The sound of light footsteps running down the hall caused you and Chenle to send each other a knowing look.

The doors to the great hall opened once more and in ran two little children.

“Daddy, look I won!” You son yelled happily, grabbing Chenle’s hand and pointing towards the doorway where a panting Jisung stood, leaning on the door frame for support.

“Really Jisung? Two children under the age of 6 can outrun you?” Chenle asked, his eyebrows raised judgmentally.

“Look.” Jisung spat, pointing a finger accusingly at the two of you. “If the two of you hadn’t had twins with Chenle’s bluntness and y/n determination, I would be fine. But these two are like the mixture of you two, it’s terrifying.”

“Well, Jisung I hate to break it to you, but that is how children work. They tend to be a mixture of their parents.” You replied dryly, reaching down to hug your daughter as she held on to your leg, catching her breath.

“You know... we made a deal that we would have three.” Chenle reminded you, wiggling his eyebrows at you as you burst out into laughter at Jisung’s disgusted expression.

“Okay, that’s my cue to leave. Just remember, there are young children here.”

Jisung gestured to the twins that were standing close to you, before saying a quick goodbye, which your twins shouted back even louder, as he headed off to the next training session.

“Is everything sorted?” Chenle asked you, trying to stop your son from attempting to sit on the documents on the table.

“Yes, everything was agreed upon today. Starting from tomorrow, we are in an official peace treaty with all the surrounding lands. There are plans to share combat tactics, and resources if any kingdom needs it. We’re about to enter a new era.” You told him, the smile on your face growing at your words.

“That’s amazing, I’m so proud of you.” He breathed, his voice lowering for the last part as he grabbed your hand.

You intertwined your fingers with his. “I’m proud of us. We did this together.”

Chenle smiled at you, the signature smile of his that always took you back to the shy boy who you toured around the rose garden. You reach out with your other hand, your daughter grabbing it as Chenle took a hold of your son and together you walked out to stand on the battlements. Neither of your children were tall enough to see over the stone walls, so you both picked them up, allowing them to sit and see the view.

“One day, you’ll be the ones to rule this kingdom.” Chenle told them, watching as their eyes lit up in amazement. “And you’ll do it with a very special someone by your side.”

You smiled out at the view, the roofs of houses, the market stalls, the training grounds... you could see your entire kingdom from up here. Your entire home.

“Tell us the story again of how you and Mummy met?” Your daughter asked, looking up at her father with wide eyes.

Chenle began the tale, pointing out to the view as he did. He had got in the habit of telling them this story to put them to sleep, and since then they had asked for it constantly, the way he changed certain words to make it sound like a fairytale had made it their favourite.

He told the story of a magical land that became his home and the evil kings and dragons that he and Uncle Jisung had fought to protect it, all while his fairy queen, which was you, stood bravely behind the walls sheltering and looking after the people.

You listened to his calming voice tell the legendary tale and couldn’t stop the smile that spread across your face as you watched your family. You thought about how your life had turned out, all the ups and downs and challenges that you had faced, but you never faced them alone. Chenle was right there with you, ready to tackle any problem that the two of you may encounter. You turned your gaze out to your kingdom, the wealthy and prosperous civilisation that the two of you had grown together, yet it only meant everything it did because of the man you shared it with.

You remembered your conversation with Chenle before he proposed, the two of you talking about the life you could possibly have if you weren’t royals. You discussed all the things you would change, and how it would be different. But, standing here now, looking over your kingdom, with your family by your side, you knew one thing for certain.

You wouldn’t change a thing.

[inlustrissss]

Last Time

“The woman was scared to die all alone in a foreign country”

SPOILER WARNING!! CHAPTER 138

Edit: Thank you for 200 notes 😊😚

Levi x fem!Reader

TW! : slight angst but also mentioning of death, dw, got some nice and bittersweet moments as well

Summary: Levi and his fiancé are part of the survey corps and on a dangerous mission to stop Eren Jaeger in his plan with the rumble. On Marleyan ground, right before everything crumbles down, (Y/N) sees her life flash before her eyes

As Falco had caught on to the Kirschtein man, Connie looked devastated, the scene before the strong soldiers of Paradis unfolding into a complete disaster as Armin was about to detonate the bomb right around where Erens nape connected to it's bone-ish body.

"We need to get out quick!! Armin's gonna blow those bones to pieces!"

Having held down on to Piecks cart Titan body, (Y/N) loosened her grapple-hook, the gravity pulling her towards the ground as the hook returned to it's place at the ODM-Gear. At the same time the black haired woman Pieck emerged out of the Titan form, letting herself fall and hugging the (H/C) haired woman tightly.

Facing the ground, Falcos wings caught the women: "The armored Titan should be able to withstand the colossus Titan explosion—", seeing Jeans concern of their fellow old comrade, she tried to ease his worries as she sweated, "And most of all: Reiner's prepared for all of the consequences. To let this opportunity get away would be to let that go to waste!"

As suddenly Falcos Titan body increased its speed and flew up higher into the sky, (Y/N)s reflexes kicked in, making her close her eyes in fear. She felt an arm hug her waist tightly. Caught off guard, her (E/C) orbs opened frantically and her head swinging into the direction of the arms owner: it was her fiancé, the very man who had asked for her to marry him right in the middle of the war. Gifting the strongest soldier of humanity a subtle smile as a thank you, and maybe even slight reassurance for herself, she seemed to melt at his touch, getting lost in the rare colour of his cool blue eyes. Sighing, his tense shoulders relaxed for a second: "You okay?" His deep voice almost hoarse as it came out as a whisper, "Don't do anything reckless, stupid." Nodding speechlessly the woman noticed the bright light from behind her-- the bomb had been detonated and a loud, ear piercing bang sounded throughout the trampled battlefield of Marley. 

Wide eyes glancing towards the direction of Eren whereabouts, hands covering ears, the ring on (Y/N)s finger sparkled whenever the warm rays of sunlight reached the beautiful material. 

Was the battle finally over?

There was no time to think of the answer to that question, there wasn’t even any time to think of the question in the first place. It was a bittersweet moment, when Falco finally landed on the ground in front of those Marleyans and Eldians who had survived the ramble up until now. Leaving his titan body Falcos eyes searched the crowd for his parents. The little yet brave girl Gabi doing the same, running up to her mother and aunt, hugging them tightly just as Pieck did with her parents. Carefully jumping off of the bird like titan body, (Y/N) and Connie took a hold of Levis weakened body, making sure he stood on his feet before Connie adjusting his arm and placed it around his neck. The engaged woman never leaving her financés side, she held him by his torso, looking at the children that had been with them for a long time throughout the war, finally reuniting with their parents. The sight of Gabi smiling made her forget all of her worries. With Levi close to herself, nothing could beat them now.

“It’s not like I don’t have any regrets but-”, Connie looking around, seeing all the crying faces, “we did the right thing, didn’t we?” “We stopped the rumbling..”

“Wait!”, Gabi suddenly called out, running towards the cliff, almost falling off of it if it weren’t for (Y/N)s reflexes to catch the impulsive girl, “Watch it Gabi!”, the woman said with concern lacing her sweet voice, “But Reiner is still fighting.. and Armin?!”, looking back to the battlefield, they saw Reiner on the ground with Armin walking over to the cliff where everyone had been.

“They’re okay.”, said Jean as he patted Gabis should, but something had caught their attention. 

It was the centipede- like looking creature, which had taken control over Eren when he had transformed into the founding titan: “Hey, look over there!!”, yelled Connie while pointing at the thing, “It survived the explosion?” “What the fuck is that thing..”, mumbled Levi with a disgusted look, “Who knows, love.”, said (Y/N), “But all I know is that we can’t let this thing survive.”, with a determined look she glanced to her comrades, tightening her grip on to Levi. A bright light emitted behind the colossal titan,  the place where Erens corpse had been. “I didn’t think it’d take that much to kill you..”, said Jean as he was looking towards the bright light, seeing a titan form in the distance.

Long brown hair dancing with the wind, it was Eren.

“We can’t let Eren get to that thing down there!”, yelled (Y/N). Right when she was about to turn towards Levi and possibly get him ready for another fight, she noticed him groaning and his head hanging low, “Levi? What’s wrong?!”, brows furrowing, she tried to take a hold of his eyes with hers. “Just a headache.”, he whispered.

 A headache- come to think of it, Mikasa had been having headaches throughout the fight with Eren too..

Noticing how Gabi had crouched down with the others, (Y/N) decided to let her finacés headache slide and see what was going on. “What is this smoke?”, asked Gabi, “Smoke?”, inspecting further, (Y/N) saw how the creature had deflated, leaving only smoke behind, which soon covered a large space and devoured almost all of the mountain where they had been seeking their cover. “Is that thing finally dying?”, Mikasa groaned as he raised his brow suspiciously at the thing. But Connie had another answer: “No, it doesn’t smell like a dead titan”, his hand covering mouth and nose at the smell. His heart dropping and hands growing colder with each second, he was under shock: “Isn’t it the same they did in...”, he swallowed, “..In Ragako?”

Only hearing the confused voices speaking in the background, it was completely silent among the group. No one dared to mutter another word, it had all come to an end.

She wanted to cry but she couldn’t, her heart stopped to fear it only started to clench in worry, “Levi you have to get out of here”

It only rung louder and stronger, it was like his head was killing him slowly, praising him with a painful dead, it was like his instinct was punishing him for his failure. No it can’t be instinct, he truly did love her, he was no servant. Yet his DNA was telling otherwise.

“No don’t do this to me-”, the Ackerman males murmurs were cut off by his beloved soon to be wife, “Pieck, Mikasa! Get on Falco and hurry!”

“Please oh god don’t do this to me-”

“Levi, it’s okay.”, softly touching his cheek, being careful not to hurt his injury under the dirty and sweat stained bandages, she held his paled face. This very face she saw all those years ago, when he was captured by commander Erwin with his fellow friends Isabel and Farlan, oh how she has missed them all.  Recalling their first interaction when Hanji ran off to greet them at their first expedition, praising them on their skill with the ODM gear.

She glanced at his eyes. Those eyes she first truly started to take in the night he was at his worst, crying under the moonlit night, cursing himself how he could’ve been stronger. Those seemingly cold eyes that would always watch over squadleader (L/N)s doings. Those very eyes that would always gaze at her with love and tender were struck with fear and disbelief now. She knew he was too weak, she was scared he wouldn’t be able to handle another death. 

Levis nose stung, his eyes burning, this is it, he was close to crying. But as he heard her sweet voice, it was as if there was no war raging, “It’s okay my love”, she said with an almost inaudible whisper, forcing herself to not break down and cry herself. “You need to get out of here Levi”, her voice calming his penetrating headache, “You need to survive” Foreheads pressed together, (Y/N) swiftly let go off of his face to look at her right hand, “Here quick, take the ring honey-”, sliding off the engagement ring, she took Levis weak hand and pressed the warm yellow gold into his palm, she smiled softly, not noticing a single tear slip, “I’ll see you again Levi”

Pressing her warm lips tightly against his cold ones, she took a hold of his shoulders and hugged him. 

He hesitated, needing to take in what just happened but hugged her back just as tight, patting down her messy hair, just like hed always do to keep his beloved tidy. As they slowly parted she whispered “You need to hurry.”

Their moment seemed as if took hours.

Seeing Falco take off with the one she devoted herself to, (Y/N) finally broke down. Her life flashing by her eyes and even all the talks she had with Levi about her future, she played it all out just how it could’ve been.

Remembering how he had asked her to be his wife in the middle of war, because he was scared he wouldn’t survive, thinking of all the reassurence they both gave themselves until now.  Dreaming of a future together, knowing it would stay one.

She cried.

Hot tears streaming down her flushed cheecks, she wasn’t even able to keep up with the flow of her tears anymore, (Y/N) just gave up on trying to dry them. The woman was scared to die all alone in a foreign country.

“So this is how it ends, huh?”, (Y/N) stopped.

It was Jean who was pulling her close towards himself, Connie on his other side, hugging the taller male as well. “Guess so..”, said Connie. Turning towards Jean with an indifferent expression he scoffed, “Remember the night of the entrance ceremony?”, Jean nodded, “This is your fault we’re here right now.”

At their bickering right before the end made, (Y/N) had to laugh, “Stop it you guys, now’s not the time” Connie groaned, “Come on, when’s ever the time..”, but Jean apologized, “I’m sorry Squadleader”

Growing only sadder at the title, (Y/N) sighed: “Drop the act Jean, we’re only human after all.”

“Right.. (Y/N)”

She wished she could look into Levis warm eyes again.

She longed to see, she would do everything,

just to see him one last time

 Closing her eyes, she let the sunrays hit her skin, making her look angelic with the golden glow. Will it hurt? Will it be quick? Her mind growing ever so slight when the worries ceased, she didn’t want those things to be the last thing, worry should not consume ones life.

So when the time finally came, she only thought of Levi Achermann, the man she had loved the most in her life.

Seeing his beautiful steel gray eyes in her mind set her at ease.  So she rememniced his lovely touch for one last time.

[harfanfare]

Aether x Reader || Glaze Lilies

"This one is delicious too," you said, swallowing another piece of the dish. “Paimon would probably create another stomach for these miracles.”

Aether chuckled softly as he bites off another piece of hot roll filled with traditional Liyue-rich stuffing. “I guess even that is not enough when the competition is the Sticky Honey Roast that Amber offered her.”

You smiled in response.

Late fall in Liyue was a beautiful time of the year.

The city was always full of red and gold colours like towns straight from fairy tales, but in this time, when the leaves have already turned dark orange and the air was carrying an aroma of seasonal seed cookies, Liyue looked even more breathtaking.

You were sure that it was Amber who made it possible for you to go somewhere on Aether's day off from doing… everything. Normally, you would be sitting in some restaurant watching Paimon heartlessly ordering all the dishes from a menu without looking at the number of zeros of each price.

But when Amber heard you mention dates accompanied by beautiful, falling leaves, she blushed as the flame of pure determination appeared in her eyes. In the evening she appeared in front of Paimon and offered her to go out to the city for one day.

Oh, if she only knew how much it will cost her...

"[Name], stay close to me, or I will lose you in this crowd." Aether gripped your hand tighter.

"Getting lost in such a big city would be romantic, wouldn't it?" you giggled.

"Getting lost and being found in the wrong place and time wouldn’t be," he replied. “Every city is much more dangerous when the night comes.”

You turned into another street to finally reach the viewpoint in Liyue.

You could see a lot more from there, but less people could see you. Who would twist their neck to see two little dots on top of a mountain?

"It's going to rain soon," Aether nodded at the clouds, which were moving quickly toward the city. He clicked his tongue. “If we don't want to get wet, we should be getting ready.”

"Oh, isn't that Aether?"

You turned around to see a girl approaching you two.

She was gorgeous—her long blonde hair waved in the breeze as if it existed only to be an effect for them. She had every girl's dream figure, bright, sparkling eyes, and rosy cheeks.

Perfect girl.

And the perfect person to compare yourself with to create a trillion complexes about your body.

She had a very charismatic, attractive aura around her, but the way she behaved towards Aether was slowly starting to bother you. Of course, it might just be some kind of funny, totally wrong prejudice against her, but ...

“[Girl's name]?” Aether muttered, not noticing your pleading gaze saying: ‘let's get out of here.’ “—What are you doing here?”

"I was just passing by," she laughed, her voice soft, pearl-like. “I couldn't go without saying hi, haha!” Then she looked at you and fixed you with a stare. It wasn't a cold look, but it wasn't friendly either. “And who is that?”

"Ah," Aether shook his head, as if only now remembering that he had not come here alone. He put his hand around your waist. “This is my girlfriend, [Name]”

“I didn't know you had a girlfriend! You always have to be so mysterious?” Aether rolled his eyes at her words, even if he smiled slightly. Then she turned to you. “Could I kidnap him for a moment? I need help moving my luggage to my new apartment.”

She grabbed his hand without waiting for your answer, as if it were a rhetorical question. As Aether released his hand from your waist, you felt as if you were left alone in a foreign land.

“I'll be back in a minute!” After these words, he turned to the blonde and at an equal pace, they turned around the corner of some house, behind the wall of which you could see an extremely high pile of boxes.

"It probably won't be a minute," you sighed.

You leaned against the railing and stared at the toes of your shoes, telling yourself that you should have opposed her. Would that be selfish? You've been dreaming about a date with Aether for so long, without third parties, and now that the moment has come, it turns out that someone will take from you your boyfriend anyway.

Five minutes passed... eight minutes... ten... thirteen...

After fourteen minutes, you got up and decided to check how much was already packed. Some of the super-heavy boxes seemed to be gone, but that was up for discussion since there were dozens of them here.

You couldn't find a familiar face in sight. Did... they just leave you here? More likely, they were just carrying some luggage into one of the nearby houses, but you couldn't knock on every door to find them—it would take hours.

You felt yourself slowly breaking down.

You knew you were a little (a little very much) jealous of this girl, but more depressing was the fact that this was going to be yours and Aether’s day. COMMON. Now you thought you were the loneliest person in the universe.

"I'm not going to get upset," you repeated aloud, trying to motivate yourself to leave this place. "I'll go... I’ll go somewhere and have a good time... alone."

With a quick step, as if you didn't want to think about this anymore, you turned back and followed the alleys you and Aether had previously travelled. You came to the food stores that you had only glanced at before, but you didn't have time to taste anything else because you were in a hurry to get to the viewpoint.

It is true that you ordered take-out rolls, but the whole range of different types of food seemed very tempting despite the filling bread.

And the smell of such highly seasoned dishes was tempting—very much.

"Sorry," a young girl approached you after you shoved a piece of meat into your mouth. You swallowed it quickly, almost choking on it. “Would you like to buy some flowers?”

“…Why not?” you replied.

The girl put the money in the pocket of her dress. Instead of putting a flower on your hand, she came closer and gently braided a glaze lily into your hair near right ear.

"Here you are," she replied and looked at you. A smile beamed across her face. “You look really pretty!”

"Thank you," you replied. You noticed that this was the last flower in her basket, and because of that, the ten-year-old girl seemed proud of herself. She walked away, thanking again for the purchase.

I think that one more on the other side and all would be perfect...

You glanced at the setting sun and concluded that you could give Aether a similar lily. Wouldn't that look cute on him? There was still some time before it will get completely dark. Even the rain clouds that had previously seemed to be crossing the sky at an alarming pace now seem to have stopped.

You finished eating and walked briskly towards the Danyu Ruins, hoping to find some pretty lilies on your way.

The silence, or rather the sound of the wind and the leaves rustling against each other, were the only thing that accompanied your footsteps since you left Liyue. It seemed relaxing at first, but now that the skies were a deeper blue than orange, you concluded that a travelling companion would not be a bad idea.

“They're here!” you finally found two lilies that glistened slightly in the dark. You collected them quickly and turned to head back into town.

…You were surprised when you encountered many, many roads, each of them unfamiliar.

"I should have left a trail of breadcrumbs," you joked, though panic had already paralyzed your legs.

Your problems were not diminished by the fact that you heard mad laughter near you. You felt your heart leap into your throat, tears welling up in your eyes as a figure emerged from behind the bushes.

Abyss mage.

You have heard about them from the stories of Aether, who sometimes told you about his adventures when you tried to bandage his wounds with a bandage, herbs, or other medicines.

As soon as your heart was beating, so quickly the magician saw you. He teleported a meter away from you and you started running.

Faster, faster, faster.

Before you ran a hundred meters, a mage appeared before you. You didn't even have time to stop when he waved his hand, and a large ice crystal formed in front of him. Huge and pointed towards you.

Almost as soon as it was launched, a certain force pushed both of you backwards. You felt pain in your left leg, but somehow you didn't fall. Strong arms held you and made you be in a comforting, familiar embrace.

You looked up to see Aether running towards the cliff to finally jump, open his gliding set and take you two away from the icy monster.

You didn't say a word to each other all this time.

As soon as you touched the ground, you stepped out of his embrace, as if feeling that you had abused his closeness too much. Instead, he grabbed your wrist, turned to face him, and initiated a long, passionate kiss.

He didn't pull away until you both were breathless, and your cheeks were burning like hot coals. You couldn't say you were cold anymore.

“Why?” He took a deep breath. However, his voice still trembled. “Why didn't you wait for me? If I did not make it on time—"

“I was waiting for you!” You interrupted him. You bit your lower lip as you tried to contain the tide of frustration. “It's you who disappeared somewhere. You went somewhere with that girl. I already thought you weren't coming back.”

Aether, an intelligent boy, immediately paraphrased your words "I was maybe jealous". At the thought, he smiled apologetically.

"Sorry," he said, scratching his neck. “I accidentally dropped a box on her leg and, oh, it was hard to treat someone who screams in pain before even a finger touches them…”

"Oh," you felt a deep flush of embarrassment coming up to your cheeks. Indeed, the previous redness of the cheeks did not disappear, but now it only preserved their shade for the next minutes. “I'm really sorry. I left you, put you and myself in danger, just to find some stupid flowers...”

For the third time since finding you, Aether hugged you tightly. He planted a kiss on the top of your head. You stood for a few minutes in pleasant silence, cuddling tightly to each other, and finally, you both relaxed completely.

You took the tangled lilies out of your pocket; one was practically worn out, but the other seemed to be in good condition. You dropped the massacred one, and you tried to straighten the petals with your fingers.

"Turn around," you told him.

He did it without batting an eye. You ran your fingers through his hair and braided his plant into a braid.

Out of the corner of your eye, you thought yours, still artfully arranged, flashed a pleasant blue light as Aether examined his looks.

"It suits you," you said. You both decided to go back to Liyue and spend the rest of the night there. You held hands all the way back.

"You too," he replied. "We are complementing each other very nicely now with these flowers ...and also without them," he added with a smile.

"So, you still think getting lost isn't romantic?" You looked at him from under your lashes.

“Still. I wish I could have you with me without any excuse that you will get lost.”

[hercleverboy]

reassurance

spencer reid x reader 

summary ↠ after a heated argument on a case, the reader gets fatally injured in the field. spencer battles with the fact that he never got to apologise.

category ↠ angst

warnings/includes ↠ major character death, depression, refusing to eat.

word count ↠ 4.2k

“Maybe I’ll see you in another life, if this one wasn’t enough.” — Florence + the Machine

Spencer and Y/N rarely fought. 

Of course they bickered from time to time about silly things that wouldn’t matter ten minutes later, but they rarely had a full-on argument. Screaming matches where they tried to wound one another with bitter words they didn’t really mean. They’d only ever fought like that once or twice, but ultimately they’d end with heartfelt apologies and kisses as they forgave one another and grew from their mistakes. 

This particular argument however, was easily the worst they’d ever had. 

It was the first big fight they’d had since they’d gotten married four months prior. 

You know what they say about marriage; the first year is the hardest. 

“I just don’t understand why we have to talk about this right now.” Spencer scowled as he walked into the empty room, his wife following hot on his heels. 

Themselves and the team were had been sent to North Carolina on a triple homicide case in Charlotte. They’d been there for two days, and the newlyweds had carried an awkward tension with them ever since the case started. The couple had gotten into the start of an argument before they’d had to leave for the jet, which left what they new would be a bad fight brewing between them. Neither of them wanted to start the inevitable fight they knew they were going to have to have at some point. Y/N wanted to remain professional, to keep her emotions in check until her and Spencer got home and could fight  talk everything out. She was succeeding, until she saw how snappy and cold Spencer was acting with her during the case, cutting her off mid-sentence and dropping sassy, unnecessary comments whenever she spoke. That only fuelled Y/N’s fire further. So when she managed to catch him alone she decided they had to have it out, even if it was in the middle of the case. 

She closed the door to the room behind her as she watched Spencer busy himself with the three case files of the murder victims before him. She turned to him, her arms crossing in front of her. “Because I wanted to wait to have this fight until after the case finished, but you started up with the snappy attitude for no reason!” 

“I’m busy, Y/N. Not right now.” He uttered, brushing her off. Again. 

“Yes, right now. Every time I bring up the topic you shut me down and I’m tired of it! We have to talk about this, Spence. I’ve let you brush me off too many times now.” Her voice had lowered, she wasn’t shouting anymore but she was still stern. 

Spencer scoffed. “You’re being ridiculous. I don’t brush you off.” 

“You do! That’s exactly what you did before we left for the jet the other morning. Anytime I bring up starting a family you don’t want to hear about it. It’s a conversation we need to have.” She groaned. It was true, anytime since they’d gotten married that Y/N mentioned the idea of starting a family, Spencer blew her off. He’d completely shut down the conversation, refusing to speak about it with her. Y/N was growing frustrated. She didn’t want them to start immediately trying for a baby or anything, she just wanted to discuss her future with her husband, and he acted like she’d asked him to commit murder with her. 

“Nope, we don’t need to have that conversation right now.” He murmured, his back still turned to her as his fingers scanned over the pages of writing in front of him. 

“Do you not want kids with me, is that it?” She winced, the thought hurting her. 

“Not if you’re gonna act like this.” He responded and it made her breath hitch. She knew he was pissed but surely he didn’t mean that? 

“Spencer- I-I love you, I want to have kids with you. We don’t have to start trying yet, not for a long while but I just need to know that it’s in the cards for us.” She swallowed, walking closer to him, hoping he’d turn to face her. 

“Maybe if you didn’t jump down my throat about all the time I’d be more willing to talk!” He spat, finally turning to face her. 

“Are you seriously trying to pin this all on me? I just need some comfort. You do eventually want a family, right?” Her voice got even quieter, her tone pleading and her eyes glassy. 

“God Y/N why are you in such a rush? We only just got married!” He yelled, exasperated as he threw his arms out in exaggeration. “I just need some time  to think, okay?” 

“How much time? A month? Two?” She challenged. 

“That’s not a lot of time, Y/N.” He ran his hands through his hair frustratedly. 

“I can’t wait around for years only for you to decide you don’t want kids, Spence. That’s not fair on me, I’d have to start over-” 

Spencer frowned, interrupting her. “Wait- start over? You mean with someone else?” For the first time in the argument his harsh exterior softened, worry seeping into his honey coloured iris’. 

Y/N was silent, her gaze lowering to the floor as tears began to tremble down her cheeks. 

Spencer scoffed and shook his head. “This is stupid.” He muttered under his breath, as though Y/N couldn’t hear it clear as day. 

She let out a small sob when she opened her mouth to speak. “All I’m asking for is some reassurance. I’m your wife, Spencer! Why can’t you just give me that?” 

“I don’t want kids, okay?! is that what you want to hear? Can we drop this now?” He exclaimed, regretting the words as soon as they left his mouth but at this time his anger outweighed his regret. 

Y/N recoiled, her eyes casting down to look at the floor as her sight blurred, hot tears rolling down her pink cheeks. 

Just then three knocks sounded on the door, a sheepish looking JJ opened it, poking her head in. “Uh- sorry to interrupt. Garcia found us a possible address, Hotch wants you two to go and check it out.” 

Y/N sniffed and wiped the tears away from under her eyes. She grabbed her FBI jacket that hung on the back of one of the chairs before turning toward JJ. “No. I’d rather go with Morgan.” She muttered before walking out the door without a second glance at her husband. 

“Y/N wait-” He tried calling out but she was already gone. He sighed, running his hands over his face. 

“What was that about?” JJ asked quietly, her brows furrowed in confusion. 

“Nothing.” He tried to lie but JJ gave him a look, one that said don’t bullshit me. “We had a fight, it was a pretty bad one. I said some things I didn’t mean.” 

JJ placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. “It’ll be okay. When her and Morgan get back you can tell her you’re sorry. You’ll work it out, you love one another too much not to.” 

Spencer nodded, glancing down to the thin gold band that sat on his ring finger. His mind drifted back to their wedding day, the happiest day of his life. He remembered how she’d taken his breath away when he saw her coming down the aisle, wearing a dress so beautiful and so her that it brought tears to his eyes. 

She was ethereal. 

and she was his. 

It brought a small smile to his lips. JJ was right. As soon as she got back they’d finish up this case and then he’d spend all the time he had to making it up to her. He thanked JJ before they headed to join the others in the other room. The team, minus Y/N and Morgan, were gathered around overlooking their profile and all the details of the case, looking for anything they might of missed. 

Hotch’s phone rang out and he answered, all of the team looking his way, hoping whoever was on the other end of the line would give them the information they needed to crack the case wide open. Spencer wasn’t concerned until he saw the shift in Hotch’s face, from his usual stern look to one of worry and concern. 

“What’s wrong?” Spencer asked as soon as Hotch hung up the phone. 

“That was Morgan calling from the hospital. He and Y/L/N found the unsub at the address. He had a gun, with which he shot Y/L/N twice with before he fled.” 

JJ let out a gasp. “She’s okay though, right? I mean she would’ve been wearing her vest.” 

Hotch spared a glance at Spencer who looked at him with eyes so wide it hurt him. He slowly shook his head. “One bullet hit the vest, the other hit her side. She’s in emergency surgery now.” 

Spencer was up from his seat within seconds, rushing out of the building towards the SUV’s, the rest of the team following quickly. 

*

Spencer rushed through the white hospital hallways with a heavy weight in his heart that he’d never felt before. He dashed around the corner, his eyes landing on Morgan in the waiting room, who sat with his head in his hands. 

“Morgan? Where is she? She okay, right?” He begged his best friend to tell him something, anything good. 

Morgan just shook his head. “I’m sorry kid, I don’t know anything. She’s still in surgery.” 

Spencer felt sick. 

They waited for hours without news, him worriedly pacing the waiting room. He was going through every possible outcome in his head, thinking of the worst case scenarios, making himself physically sick with worry. 

Any time a member of the team attempted to talk to him, he snapped at them, telling them to leave him alone. He knew they were just trying to help, but he could apologise for that later. The only think that mattered at that moment was his wife. Eventually he’d worn himself out, his mind and body overwhelmed with all the emotions and visions of worst case scenarios. It took JJ grabbing his wrist and taking him to another private room for him to finally accept her help. He broke down as soon as she wrapped her arms around him, trying desperately to soothe the sobs coming from his mouth. 

He pulled back, sucking in deep breaths as he attempted to calm himself down. “When we were fighting earlier I told  her I didn’t want kids with her, but it’s not true- God JJ, having s family with her is all I think about.” He wept. “I’m just so scared that I’ll pass down some of my undesirable genes, I don’t want my kids to have to suffer.” 

JJ just gave him a sad look, unsure what to say. 

“What if I never get the chance to tell her I lied? I love her so much JJ- I-I can’t lose her. I want to have a family so badly with her, she means everything to me.” He crumpled into one of the chairs in the room as JJ watched helplessly. 

After regaining his breath and wiping his eyes, the two rejoined the group in the waiting room. The team sent him sympathetic glances but Spencer didn’t acknowledge them. 

It was around 4am that an exhausted looking doctor walked into the waiting room. Immediately Spencer was on his feet, pleading in his head that the doctor will tell him that she was fine, that his wife was awake and alive and was waiting to see him. She was strong, a fighter. She was going to be fine. 

and then everything came crashing down. 

“I’m so sorry, Mr Reid.” 

His knees buckled beneath him as he collapsed to the floor, heartbreaking sobs leaving his mouth as the doctor left the room, closing the door behind him. 

Spencer could hear the other teams whimpers but he blocked them out. 

He couldn’t feel anything but the sharp stabbing pain in his chest that made his whole body throb with a pain so unimaginable he wouldn’t wish it on his worst enemy. 

He barely registered how Derek’s arms wrapped around him, pulling him to his feet as his friend cried into his shoulder. 

“I didn’t tell her I loved her before she left.” He bawled, and the sight broke the teams hearts. 

“She knew, Reid. She knew.” Derek tried to soothe him but it was a fruitless attempt, as his heart-wrenching cries only intensified. 

*

Two weeks later and the pain was still as fresh as it had been that day. Spencer’s body ached all over, his heart felt heavy in his chest.

He’d slept on the couch for weeks, refusing to sleep in their bed without her.

 It felt wrong. 

After shutting everyone out for two weeks and barely eating, showering or sleeping, he finally allowed JJ into his apartment. They didn’t speak, but he would sit on his sofa, staring blankly at the wall while JJ tried to get him to eat and encouraged him to shower. He wouldn’t respond, no matter how much his stomach rumbled with hunger, he wouldn’t eat. JJ tried her best, and she knew he was grateful, but he was so deep in his heartache and depression that he couldn’t do anything. She would tidy up sometimes and did laundry for him, encouraging him to change out of the same clothes he’d worn for weeks. 

He heard JJ humming to herself quietly as she walked through the living room toward the kitchen, laundry basket in her hands. He normally wouldn’t have paid notice, but an item of clothing on top of the pile caught his eye. It was a bright mustard yellow cardigan. 

Specifically, it was Y/N’s mustard yellow cardigan. 

Spencer recalled how she loved the bright colour, having many items in her wardrobe of similar colour. She insisted it was for her ‘autumn style’, whatever that meant. Whenever she told him that he’d simply smile at her, his eyes so full of love and happiness. She would always grin back at him in response. 

What he’d give to see that smile again. 

“Wait.” He called out, his voice thick and raspy after weeks of not using it. “You can’t wash that.” 

JJ looked over in surprise. He hadn’t spoken to her at all any of the other times she’d been over to help him. 

Spencer got up and walked over, taking the cardigan from the top of JJ’s pile. He brought the item up to his face, inhaling deeply, a sob getting caught in his throat at the realisation that it still smelled like her, the scent of her perfume clinging to the fabric. 

JJ’s eyes widened with the realisation that the cardigan belonged to Y/N. She’d just picked it up from where it had been on the floor in the bedroom, figuring it belonged to Spencer. She was about to apologise profusely for touching it when he spoke again. 

“I miss her so much, JJ.” He cried, his voice cracking as she placed the basket down on the floor. 

“Can I hug you?” She asked, unsure if he wanted to be touched at that moment. 

He nodded, and was filled with a sort of relief when JJ’s arms wrapped around him. It was the first human contact he’d had in weeks. He welcomed the warmth. (He’d felt so cold lately.)

Later that night he’d sobbed himself into an uneasy sleep, clutching the cardigan to his chest, inhaling the scent of her perfume as if he could convince himself that she was still there.

When he woke the next day he saw the sunlight peeking in through the curtains that he hadn’t opened in weeks. He blinked, and noticed how his fists still clutched handfuls of the yellow cardigan. His memory flashed, and he recalled how she looked in the mornings- like a goddess. He could almost hear her melodic laugh, as though she were right next to him. He closed his eyes, hoping he’d wake up and it’d be real, that she’d be next to him and everything would be okay. This horrific nightmare would be just that- a bad dream, after which she’d soothe him with hushed reassurances and soft kisses to his forehead. 

He squeezed his eyes shut, hoping and praying that when he opened them she’d be there in his arms, where she was meant to be. 

He opened his eyes slowly, only to be met with what he feared, an empty space beside him. 

Spencer really thought he couldn’t cry anymore, that he was all out of tears, but as he felt the familiar feeling rise in his chest, his breaths picked as a small sob broke from his lips. 

He didn’t leave the sofa that day. 

* 

He was sat with his back against one of his walls, his knees pulled up to his chest. His phone buzzed from the table across the room. The team called and texted him regularly, but he never responded. Though no one called him more than Derek Morgan, worried sick for his closest friend. 

Spencer waited for the buzzing to stop, the familiar tone ringing out that signalled he’s been left a voicemail. Something inside him possessed him to stand up, grabbing his phone and tapping the buttons to hear the voicemail. 

“Hey Reid. Its Morgan, I-uh.” His voice cracked. Morgan was never a particularly emotional man, but he still remembered that day Y/N died clearly, and was consumed by guilt. He blamed himself, Spencer could hear it in his voice.  

Morgan swore under his breath as he placed his hands against her side, desperately trying to slow the blood pouring from the wound. 

“Morgan.” She grunted. “The unsub- you have to go after him.” She clenched her teeth together at the searing pain in her side, a burning feeling like nothing she’d ever felt before. 

“No, Y/N. I won’t leave you here. Not only are you Spencer’s wife but you are my friend and I’m gonna stay with you, okay?” He promised, meeting her tear filled eyes as she nodded. “The ambulance is gonna be here any second, just gotta hold on for me yeah?” 

Y/N nodded and fought desperately to keep herself awake but could feel herself slipping away with every second that passed. She shook her head from side to side, hopelessly trying to force herself to stay awake, fighting to keep her eyes open. 

“Y/N? Y/N! Come on, baby. You gotta stay awake. What about Spencer, hm? Talk to me about him.” Morgan was just trying to get her talking in hopes that she’d stay awake long enough for the ambulance to arrive. 

“He said he doesn’t want kids with me.” She mumbled, giving a weak smile. “We- We argued about it earlier, but I’m not mad at him. Morgan, he has to know I forgive him-” She coughed, blood spilling from her lips as she winced. She looked up at Morgan. “Y-You have to tell him. Tell him that i-it’s okay. Tell him I love him, that I-” She let out another cry in agony as he pushed harder down on her wound. 

“Listen, listen. You hear the sirens? They’re close. You just gotta stay awake for a little while longer. Then you can tell pretty boy all of this yourself, okay?” Derek looked around as he heard the sound getting closer, relief breaking out across his face when the ambulance rounded the corner, coming into view. He looked down to Y/N to reassure her, but noticed how her body had gone limp beneath him. “Y/N?” His eyes were wide as he moved a hand to shake her shoulder, getting no response. “Y/N please-”

“I just need you to know, if you’re listening, how sorry I am. Y/N she- she told me, before the ambulance came-” Derek paused and Spencer’s breath hitched.  “She wanted me to tell you she loved you. That she forgave you.” Derek cleared his throat, evidently trying to keep up his ‘tough guy’ act for the sake of his friend. “I just- needed you to know that. Call me when you’re ready.” The loud beep sounded out after the message finished and Spencer just stood, frozen. 

His wife’s last words were that she loved him, that she forgave him. 

It didn’t make him feel any better. 

*

JJ was washing up plates in his kitchen after pretty much forcing him to eat some soup. He only had about four spoonful’s, which was disappointing but it was progress, and she figured it was better than nothing. 

It had been a month since Y/N died, and nothing was getting better for Spencer. Everyday felt worse and worse, the pain never got lighter like people said it would, it never got any easier to deal with. 

He sat on the sofa with a book perched on his lap, though he made no attempt to read it. He’d loved to read before, but now he couldn’t look at any of his books without thinking of how he used to read them to Y/N when she couldn’t sleep. He found that everywhere he looked in the home, he was reminded of her. 

After drying the plate and putting it away, JJ turned to look at her friend who sat staring at the wall blankly. 

She spoke although she knew she likely wouldn’t receive a response, she didn’t mind. He needed human interaction of some sort. “I’ve been talking to the others and- we think maybe it would be useful for you to speak to someone. Anyone, Spence. You can’t keep living like this. It’s killing you.” She murmured, her voice pleading. He shifted his gaze to look at her, but said nothing. “If you don’t want to talk to someone, how about you try writing letters? It’s something they had me do when Roslyn died. I used to burn them afterwards too, I found it therapeutic.  It helped, even if just a little bit.” She tried, hoping he’d at least consider the idea. 

After JJ left Spencer thought about what she’d said. At first he’d thought it was a stupid idea, pathetic, really. Writing letters weren’t going to bring his wife back. 

but then again, nothing would. 

He found himself sat at his desk, pen and paper in front of him. It took him hours to figure out what he wanted to say. At first he couldn’t even decide how to address the letter, was just her name good enough? He wrote and rewrote the letter a hundred times, trying to get everything right. Eventually he realised that there was no way to get it ‘right’, he just had to write how he felt. 

 ‘Y/N, 

JJ reckons that this will help aid my grief, and I can see how much my state is scaring her, so I figured I’d give this a shot. 

Its been two months since you left. 

Since you left the world, since you left me. 

I know it wasn’t your fault. I don’t blame you, not for anything. I blame myself more than anyone else. If I’d just told you the truth rather than trying to be difficult, maybe you’d still be here. Maybe if I had just given you the reassurance you were looking for, It would’ve been me who’d come with you to the address. 

I would’ve protected you. 

Because that was my job, you know. To protect you. And I failed. 

I miss you. 

I miss how we’d stay up watching crappy reality TV shows on nights where neither of us could sleep after a case. I miss the nights you’d let me read to you, your head on my lap as you slowly drifted to sleep. I miss making breakfast with you early on a Sunday morning, on the rare occasion we got the weekend to ourselves without any interruptions from work. I miss dancing with you in our living room to whatever music you played. I never cared what song it was, only that it was you that I was dancing with. 

You were my favourite song. 

I hope you know how sorry I am. 

I’m sorry that I’ll never get to tell you how I lied to you that day in the police station. That I’ve never regretted any words more than I do those ones. I wish I could tell you how badly I want a family with you. How nothing would make me happier than seeing little versions of ourselves that we created, that we could raise together. 

I don’t think the stabbing pain I feel in my chest when I think of you will ever cease. I’ll carry the guilt of my words for the rest of my life. 

Penelope says it will get better someday. But I can’t imagine a day where I wake up without you and don’t feel empty. 

I love you. So much. 

Forever yours, 

                      Spencer. ‘

He clicked his lighter three times before the flame appeared. Taking a deep breath, he hovered it to the edge of the letter, watching it catch alight and begin to burn. As he watched the flames flicker in front of him, he wondered if he’d ever know peace. 

If he’d ever be able to breathe again without her by his side. 

He’d have to learn to live without her. 

An impossible task. 

[jaskierswolf]

The Prince of Darkness

Written for @thewitcherbog flash fic challenge a while back but I never posted!

Rating: M

Summary: Jaskier is the King of the Underworld, and it's Valdo's day of judgement.

CW: Demon!Jaskier (and witchers), implied sexual content, death, torture (burning, choking, freezing.), Jask has an open relationship with all the witchers (but Geralt is his favourite), mentions of non con.

The hotel lobby was sophisticated and yet traditional, like something out of a movie. The dark panelling on the walls were dimly lit by flickering candles, and there was a fireplace roaring in the centre of the foyer, and a handful of gorgeous golden-eyed beauties were making their way around the room. They were finely dressed, perfectly tailored suits with silken blood red waistcoats detailed with golden buttercups, a tray balanced on their hands as they passed out flutes of champagne. In the corner of the room was a black grand piano, the lid propped up as the man behind it let his fingers dance across the ivory keys, rings glistening silver and gold in the candlelight.

Jaskier smiled to himself as he played, his eyes shut, focussing on every little sound in the room, blending it with the music, manipulating the souls around him until they were practically eating out of his hand.

The Prince of Darkness, the mortals called him.

Lucifer himself.

He preferred Jaskier; buttercups were so beautiful, so innocent, so toxic.

It was the perfect moniker.

Lux was his domain, his hotel, a haven for demons and sinners alike, and the perfect stage for when Jaskier had to deal with… unpleasant business. The witchers, as he liked to call his inner circle of demons, would deal with the aftermath, cleaning up the elevator before any of Jaskier’s regular clientele could see.

The witchers were just such good pets.

Geralt approached the piano, his honey golden eyes almost entirely black as they approached the end of another poor soul’s contract. There was an itch that creeped under Jaskier’s skin, hot fire burning through his veins, but it didn’t bother him. No, he relished in the flames, let it warm his cold immortal body. Cracking an eye open, he peered at the witcher who had disturbed his music.

“He’s here, my lord.”

Jaskier sighed, bringing the music to an end, and then, with a snap of his fingers, the ivory keys started to play anew. The song was a familiar tune, a well known pop song from the mortals’ charts. It would keep his honoured guests entertained, after all, at Lux the party never-ended. Those who stepped through the swinging doors were transported to a realm of endless night; cocktails, champagne and designer clothes. The chandelier in the middle of the room twinkled, and there was a sharp clack of high heels on the granite floor as his guests mingled.

None of them ever seemed to realise there was something not quite right about Lux. When they were done partying, when Jaskier had made deals for their souls, they would leave and return to their realm as if they had only been there for an evening, never to return until their contract was up.

And they always returned.

Occasionally, a poor mortal would fight it, realising their impending doom. They’d try to flee the country, get as far away from Lux as possible, but the witchers were excellent hunters. Once the demons got the right scent, they could track their prey to the end of the known universe. The mortals never stood a chance. They either came willingly or they would be dragged through the doors by two of Jaskier’s finest demons; he wasn’t sure which he preferred.

Yes it was simpler if they accepted their fate, but he couldn’t deny that he just adored the thrill of watching the poor terrified soul being thrown at his feet.

He thought of himself as a kind devil, if such a thing existed, his father would certainly disagree, but his father could rot in heaven. Truly, Jaskier did his best to be fair. He granted the mortals wishes and made sure they lived their best lives, he even allowed most of them to live for many decades with the gifts he gave them, their deepest desires. Really, for some of the wishes he’d granted, it would have been kind to allow them even a year of life, let alone what he gave to them.

Ungrateful bastards, the lot of them.

Valdo Marx had been an easy soul to claim; he was greedy, lustful, full of pride. He’d practically begged at Jaskier’s feet back when he was in his first year of university.

“I want to be the best musician the world has ever seen, I want the most beautiful woman, Virginia Stael, to be my wife, and I want-”

Jaskier had waved his hand, his dark feathered wings spreading out behind him, and Valdo’s jaw had snapped shut, muffled sounds coming from his throat.

“I want, I want, I want,” Jaskier had cooed, his finger hooking under Valdo’s chin as he pouted down at the mortal, whipping his tail round to caress down the poor man’s arm until his wrist had been locked in a vice. “Do you know what I want… Marx?”

The wanna-be musician had scoffed, a fatal mistake and one that had cost him years off his life. “Everyone knows that, Lucifer.”

“My name, Valdo, is Jaskier,” he’d hissed, his forked tongue flicking out from his lips as more and more of his devil form had been revealed. “And I just want to have fun.”

“You want my soul.”

“No, your soul is the price. A mere business transaction. I just want to get wasted and shag my rather lovely demons, and you are wasting my time.”

Ah yes. Valdo had always been a little shit-stain in Jaskier’s life, but now his time had come.

The piano music began to build to an earth shattering crescendo, making the glasses rattle, and dust fall from the chandelier. Jaskier cracked his neck, feeling a prickling sensation on his scalp as his horns began to grow, and still the sweet, oblivious mortals noticed nothing. They sipped on their champagne and chatted amongst themselves, ignoring the way Jaskier’s cornflower blue eyes slowly turned onyx, his skin deathly pale. He smiled sweetly at his favourite witcher, running his lips along Geralt’s sharp cheekbones.

“Thank you, darling,” he breathed, capturing Geralt’s lips with his, tongues meeting in a quick but heated display of passion.

And then the doors burst open, Lambert and Aiden dragginga handsome but aging man through the doors, grey hairs dusting his temple, crinkles at the corners of his eyes. It had been a long time since Jaskier had seen Valdo Marx, but there was no denying his beauty, now distinguished, a true silver fox. Dark chocolate eyes met his as all the colour drained from Marx’s face.

“Oh God, no… no, please,” he stammered, struggling in the arms of the demons that held him.

“My dear father holds no power here,” Jaskier chuckled, smirking at the man at his feet. “There’s no use in praying. Your soul belongs to me.”

“Lu- Jaskier, please. I’m too young. It’s too soon,” Valdo begged, reaching up to Jaskier with open hands. “My wife, my children.”

“Oh but Valdo, It’s never too soon. I am never early and I never try to back out of a deal, darling,” Jaskier pouted, squatting so he was at eye level with the mortal. “So why don’t you come with me, love? Stop all this fussing. You’re ruining my party.”

With a fire not often seen in mortals, Valdo spat at Jaskier, and an eerie silence fell over the club. The piano music screeched to a halt, the lid closing with a bang, and the only sound was a low rumble of growls from the witchers. Geralt was at Jaskier’s side in a flash, his sword drawn and pointed at the man.

It was sweet.

As if Jaskier couldn’t defend himself, but he did enjoy the show, the way Geralt’s arms would flex as he gripped the sword, twirling it in a circle before executing his victim.

“I had planned to give you an easy death,” Jaskier lied, standing back up to his full demonic height and clearing his face with a snap, “but now, I think I’ll have some fun. Geralt, Eskel, with me. Lambert, Aiden, make sure our guests stay out of the way.”

“No!” Valdo cried, falling once more at Jaskier’s feet, gripping onto his ankles.

Oh, how he loved it when they begged for their lives.

When Jaskier glided through the foyer, picking up a champagne flute from Coen’s tray with barely a brush of his lips to the demon’s cheek, the crowd parted before him. Compliments fell off their tongues, sweet like honey, unaware of the influence Jaskier had over them. They all watched him, they always watched him, so very eager to please. Geralt snarled behind him as one brave mortal rested their hand on Jaskier’s arm, but it was Eskel who snapped their fingers, silent and deadly, before they’d even realised he was there.

Valdo was pulled into the elevator, tears streaming down his face and choked off screams ripping from his throat, but Jaskier remained calm, and if it weren’t for his eyes and the horns amongst his tousled brown hair, he would have looked like any other hotel owner.

Until the doors closed.

And then all hell broke loose; literally. Jaskier’s body cracked and snapped into place as his legs extended to inhuman proportions, his fingers growing into talons, and he let out a sinful moan as his wings unfurled behind him. He flicked out his tail, and his three-piece suit melted away into a gorgeous black silk corset, embroidered with golden buttercups. Red stockings adorned his legs, held up by lacy black garters, and as he flicked out his ankles, a pair of strappy heels materialised on his feet, the soles flashing red before clicking back onto the floor.

“Jaskier, please, please,” Valdo cried, falling against the side of the elevator as lightning sparked and they dropped fast, the dial on the wall spinning out of control.

“Your soul… belongs to me,” Jaskier hissed, pressing Valdo up against the wall, his hands wrapping around his throat.

He was tempted to snog Valdo’s soul right out of him, a sweet kiss to seal the deal, but that was too kind, and he was feeling a little more dramatic than that, so he pushed back off the wall, beating his wings so he hovered just off the floor. Geralt and Eskel were standing on either side of him, swords drawn with toxic black eyes, veins like ink beneath their skin.

Flames burst out behind them, whipping around so the whole elevator was surrounded by a burning pyre, singeing Valdo’s clothes, and the mortal screamed as the fire licked at his hand, scorching the calloused skin. His precious hands, his livelihood, the first things that Jaskier had blessed for him.

There was something so delightfully poetic in that, and Jaskier found great pleasure in it.

“Everyone always thinks that hell is eternal fire,” he purred, stroking a talon along Geralt’s cheek, before pulling Eskel into a soft kiss, taking his time to enjoy the taste of sulfur on his tongue, “but that isn’t always true.”

“W-what?”

Jaskier just pouted at Valdo. “Do try to keep up, darling.”

And then he snapped his fingers, the fire was suddenly extinguished, replaced by a flood of muddy tar. Valdo spluttered and choked as he slid to the ground, the tar catching in his hair, and wherever it landed his handsome looks withered away. The wedding band slipped from his finger and disappeared, despite Valdo’s desperate scrambling to find it.

The muddy mixture spewed all over the lift, covering the two demons as well as their victim, but Jaskier stayed clean and dry, untouched by the tar. He really wasn’t in the mood for ruining his clothes, not like this. He was rather hoping Geralt would tear them from his body later on that day whilst his other beloved witchers watched.

“J-Jaskier!” Valdo screamed, just as the entire elevator froze.

Blue ice creeped up the walls, wrapping around the legs of both the demons and the pitiful mortal on the floor. Valdo sobbed, trying to escape the ice but they both knew it was over. His back pressed against the wall as the ice grew, crystallising over his body, wrapping around his throat. Snowflakes fell from the ceiling, landing in his eyelashes as he struggled to breathe.

And Jaskier stole back his voice.

The final gift.

Valdo’s soul ripped from his body, and the man fell limp against the wall.

With a wave of his hand, Jaskier captured the soul, weaving his magic until a silver fox with chocolate brown eyes was nestled in his arms. He grinned, lowered the fox to the floor and then snapped his fingers to open the doors.

Before he left the elevator, his corset grew into a beautiful gown, split all the way up to his thighs, and his demonic features melted away. He patted Geralt once more on the cheek, pressing their lips together, before striding back into the foyer, not looking back at the frozen massacre he’d left behind. Beside him, a silver fox trotted along, a shadow of the man he used to be.

[smilesvt]

honey muffins | pt.1

pairing: seungcheol x reader

genre: fluff, suggestive, possible angst later on,,

warnings: slight suggestive but nothing smutty!

summary: a stranger who catches your eye leads to a swirling discovery of your fates. will you succumb to the forbidden love that lies between you?

‘You know we shouldn’t be doing this right now Cheol.' You whined, hands pushing against the mans broad shoulders.

Yet your complaints made him even more riled up. The fact he could taste you when he wasn’t supposed to made the adrenaline rush faster through his veins, the sounds of your sweet voice echoed in his mind and filled him with even more desire.

'Says who?' he whispered, his lips like shadows of your own, his soft breath seeping into your very self.

You had never wanted something so bad, to feel his lips against yours as he whined into your mouth, helplessly and at his very edge.

But you had self control.

And you would never let your desire get a hold of you.

~~~

You mustered the energy left in you to fully shove the man away, however his strong hands still gripped onto your sides.

'You know exactly who.' you sighed, as if you hadnt had this same conversation with him plenty of times before. The man scoffed, looking away with his tongue pressed firmly in the side of his cheek.

'Seriously? That’s all you can think of right now? Whilst you have that pathetic look in your eye thats practically begging me for more? Don’t make me laugh.'

Cheol had never got angry at you; and he wasn’t about to now. But the tinge of annoyance mixed with desperation hidden in the depths of his voice made you feel slightly guilty.

'Fine.' You managed to speak out, your voice calm and steady, yet your eyes looked down at your lap, unable to make eye contact with the man.

'Do what you want with me. Anything and everything. But you know what risk that comes with. Is it worth never seeing me again for a night of pleasure? I would hope I mean more to you than that.’

His hands fell from your waist and onto the cold kitchen counter you were sat on.

‘Of course you do. You know that.’

‘Stop coming so close to losing me then.’ You poked at his chest, and tilted his head up to look at you.

He smiled, but it didn’t seem to reach his eyes.

——

Yours and Seungcheol’s families had never liked each other. It was a decades long feud, started when your great great grandfather opened a restaurant with his best friend, Seungcheols great great grandad.

The business had a slow start, what with the two men only being teenagers when they started selling their food to local people in the town. Little did they know, over the years, their seemingly perfect business would gain traction all over the country and earn them more than ever expected.

But as with most co-owned businesses, one half of the duo would become increasingly greedy, wanting more than the other.

And so the feud started. Seungcheols family had accused yours of stealing money from the joint bank account, and the business relationship crumbled.

Your great-great grandad opened his own bakery chain, specialising in his favourite, muffins: whereas Cheols turned his into a patisserie.

Fast forward to now, both of the families had stores around the country. You would have thought, what with the huge amounts of success from the two businesses, the family beef would have been quenched. Yet both of your families were stubborn: refusing to ever apologise or simply even acknowledge the other’s existence, despite walking past each others stores nearly everyday. And thats when you and Cheol came into the mix.

~~~~

You remember that day as clearly as if it were yesterday.

3 years ago, sometime in December, a fairly handsome man had walked into the bakery whilst you were working.

His beanie was pulled down low, with a few strands of espresso coloured hair peaking through. However the casual headwear contrasted the grey suit he was wearing, a burgundy tie pulled down in exhaustion and shiny black shoes at his feet.

You had had many weird and wacky customers walk in during your part time shifts at the family bakery (you worked in the heart of the city after all, weird was practically the usual) but something about this man had struck you. Your eyes had followed him as he perused around the store, occassionally stopping and observing the packs of bread. He looked way too interested in the baked goods, and you smiled to yourself as you looked down at the book you were reading.

'Excuse me.' A deep voice as smooth as honey had spoken from the other side of the counter. You quickly stood up from your stool and walked over to the till.

His golden eyes met yours over the rim of his thin gold glasses, with a sweetly intense gaze.

'How can i help you?' You had smiled at the man, your customer pleasing voice hiding your slight nerves.

'I was wondering, say you had a date coming up, and they really loved bakeries and such, what would you treat them to?'

The question had taken you aback, and he smiled as he noticed you pause to think of an answer.

'Well I’m personally a sweet sort of girl, so I would probably subconsciously choose something dessert like. A good neutral choice would be a muffin of some sorts-' you glanced over the array of treats that lay on the counter in front of you. 'I’d strongly recommend the blueberry honey one, it’s sweet yet not too overpowering, but I guess it’s all down to their personal preference.' You looked back up at the man, who flashed a warm smile at you.

'Perfect. I’ll take 2 of those then.'

---

It had been the day of your graduation when you decided to treat yourself to the slightly boujee patisserie down the road from your bakery.

Seungcheol remembered it as clearly as day.

The bell at the front entrance had jingled as a familiar girl waltzed through, a bright smile plastered on her face. He instantly recognised her; the pretty one from the bakery just up the road. She seemed to have recognised him too, as she slightly bowed her head towards him as she walked over to the till.

'How can I help you on this fine day mademoiselle?' he had questioned, taking the girl aback as she slightly giggled.

'Well I was wondering, say you had a person you wanted to impress and they really liked sweets, what would you treat them to?' He smiled at the words coming from her mouth, the ones that mirrored his own.

He gazed upon the small crescents your hazel eyes made as you laughed, a warmth seeping through his body.

His heart had never felt that way before.

---

From that day on, Seungcheol visited your store more often than he would like to admit. Sometimes he wouldnt even buy anything, he just wanted an excuse to be able to speak to you.

When the shop was filled to the brim with customers, he would simply wait at the end of the long line and you would smile at how stubborn he was.

~~~

'Its raining and you still stood out there.' You sighed as he shook his wet, curly hair in front of you. 'Worth it.' He flashed you his comforting gummy smile and your heart burst into smithereens.

'No work today?' You asked, looking down at the mans grey sweats and oversized hoodie, a backpack strewn over one shoulder.

'Fortunately not. There’s only so much pretentious business ladies in pencil skirts buying mille-feuille that I can handle.’

'I can imagine.' You sighed, glancing out at the thousands of raindrops hitting the shop window.

'At least its your day off tomorrow.'

You smiled internally: he knew your work schedule probably better than he knew his own.

'You might as well get something since you were stood out there for so long.' You started, opening a brown paper bag and waiting for the mans response.

'Hmmm...Is this new?' He pointed through the thick glass of the display.

You giggled. 'I’m glad you noticed. It’s a little something new we’re trialing, made by yours truly.'

'You shouldn’t have said that, I’ll end up buying the whole stock for you.'

'Don’t be stupid.' You chuckled, handing him the treat over the counter. 'Get going you idiot, I have to clean up.'

He took the bag with a smile. ‘I’ll see you soon, and let you know how good it tasted.'

---

Yet you never did see him soon.

The man stopped turning up after his shifts finished, he stopped waiting behind the long lines of customers. You would catch yourself staring out of the shop window, waiting-or maybe,hoping- to see a familiar mess of jet black hair pop into view, a gummy smile that made your heart burst, an outstreched hand waving excitedly at you.

But you never saw it.

'Are you expecting someone?' Your mother had asked you one day, when the shop was calm and empty, shaking you out of your daydream.

'No, why do you ask?' you wondered.

'You keep looking out of the window as if someones meant to be there.'

You nearly sighed, running a hand through your hair.

'It’s fine, just bored.'

‘Well the banquets tonight, hopefully you wont be bored there.'

The banquet had slipped your mind. It was a fancy dinner for corporate directors of companies around the country. Of course, you and your family had been invited. You knew your mom was hoping for you to meet some handsome rich man; she was always asking when you were ever going to get with anyone.

It was dumb you thought, constantly thinking of the man from the patisserie. You knew nothing about him, just his name and where he worked. Other than that, his whole existence was an enigma. That’s why it hurt when he stopped visiting, because you couldn’t even call him to ask what was up, or visit his home to check in.

He was a mystery man.

Then why did you care so much?

---

The truth was, Seungcheol wasn’t allowed to come see you. As he walked into his house, munching on the chocolate tart you had so carefully handed him, he couldn’t wait to tell you how good it was.

'Are you actually being serious?' his younger brother had said to him as he walked over to the fridge.

'What is it?' he turned around, chocolate circling his mouth.

'That’s from THEIR bakery... oh you are in so much trouble when I tell dad.' His brother ran off in the direction of their fathers study.

Dumbfounded, Seungcheol wondered. What was wrong with the bakery? It was just a local joint, surely no place his father would have any issue with.

However, as he turned the brown bag around to see the logo adorned on the front, he nearly dropped the tart.

There was no way.

No way he had fallen for someone he couldnt have.

----

So when you saw your parents disgusted faces as they looked at the family on the opposite side of the banquet hall, and your eyes fell upon a disgruntled Seungcheol, you had to stop your jaw from falling open.

It suddenly made sense, why he had seemingly ghosted you for weeks. His family mustve found out about him seeing you at the bakery.

His eyes met yours as you sat down at your table, and you swore you saw them light up.

You weren’t going to give up on this mystery man just because of your parents.

-

So fast forward to now, nearly 2 years later, where you were sat on your kitchen counter, the now not so mystery man in front of you.

Over the years, you and Cheol had been secretly hanging out without your parents' knowledge. You thought it was dumb, how the two of you, both adults with stable jobs and social lives, were meeting up in secret like teenagers hiding a relationship. Yet you knew if either of your families were made aware of this, they would do anything to stop it.

‘I’m sorry.' The man breathed out with a heavy sigh, his eyes suddenly glistening with the type of glow you hated to see. 'It’s okay.' You replied with a soft smile, patting the top of his head. You were used to this, Cheol getting too ahead of himself and apologising like a child getting caught stealing sweets.

It wasnt like he had never felt you before, the hotness of your skin against his hands as he ran them down your arms, your spine, your legs was something he knew well.

He had had all of you: apart from one place. Your lips.

You knew if your lips ever grazed upon his, you could never go back. And as much as you wanted it, as much as your body was craving it, you knew of its consequences.

'I’ll get going now.' He whispered, pushing himself away from the counter and picking up his suit jacket from the sofa.

-

You leant against the corridor doorway, watching the man pull on his dress shoes.

'See you tomorrow then? I’ve got some new cupcakes coming in that I think you’ll like.'

His ears shot up at the sound of sweets, and you giggled.

Some things never change.

He kissed the top of your head before opening your front door.

'See you tomorrow muffin.' he smiled, before walking out and closing the door behind him.

And everytime you saw his back in front of you, you hoped it wouldn’t be the last.

~~~~

a/n: ahhhh this is my first ever fic on here so if anyone reads this- which honestly im not expecting much- i hope you enjoyed, heres to many more xo

[anyoneseenadam]

Home: Chapter eight

azriel x reader (acotar)

summary: (y/n) is a daughter of Persephone, still recovering from the trauma of her fall into Tartarus and doesn’t have time for a stupid, handsome, annoying, stunning, injured man. But now they’re stuck together in the middle of nowhere and there only chance of getting home is if she can heal him, and fast.

warnings: big spoilers for mark of Athena and house of Hades, also for the acotar series, eventual smut, blood, PTSD, graphic descriptions of violence, injuries and torture, enemies to lovers so az is a bit of a dick to start, swearing

word count: 1.6k 

a/n: ahhh this is the last part and I’m kinda sad but at the same time I don’t want to drag it out, I also have a new idea for a dorian x reader so it’s a good thing to finsih one but am still sad. I hope you enjoy I made it extra fluffy (also had a cheeky wee hint back to the first part)

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You were sat in front of a large mirror, taking in your appearance as you listened to the noise downstairs, the hustle and sounds of people speaking as they rushed about in preparation a sharp contrast to the silence of your and Azriel’s shared room. The girl looking back at you in the mirror was beautiful. Her hair was pinned up, revealing a long neck adorned with a simple necklace your lover had gifted you. Your skin was clear as well, any blemishes you had, any scarring from acne you had picked at, was gone, replaced by dewy, glowing skin. In fact everything about you seemed to glow, your hair was shinier, your skin had a new ethereal sense about it, and you looked more like your mother than you ever had before.

You heard a clatter of plates downstairs and bit your lip with a slight smile, running your hands over you dress. It was baby pink, as you had commented that white may be a little on the nose, with a deep V-neck and white and pink flowers trailing down the heavy skirt, you had picked it out with the help of Feyre and Mor who had dragged you out shopping, giggling when you had stared in shock at the sheer number of dresses you only believed existed on Pinterest. You reached over the vanity and picked up the delicate gold dangling earrings that you had ‘bought’ (Azriel had technically bought them but you certainly paid him back) and put them on, gazing wistfully at your now pointed ears.

So much had changed so quickly. Azriel’s family were extremely welcoming, instantly treating you like they had known you forever. You became incredibly close with Cassian and Nesta, much to Azriel’s amusement, as you bonded over books with Nesta and a general love of Azriel with Cassian. Nesta was officially sold on you when she finished ‘Call Me by Your Name’ the day you gave it to her, the two of you discussing it all night as you made promises to find a way to show her the movie. Rhysand and Mor treated you like a sister, the three of you soon teasing each other, Amren genuinely laughing when you let loose your more creative insults. The only one who seemed reserved at first was Elain, but soon the two of you were spending hours in the garden as you taught her about the different needs that different plants had and how to grow them most effectively.

Azriel had never been more in love. He already knew you were mates but now that it was official, and possible, he felt like he was on cloud nine. He was in love with how quickly you feel asleep in his arms. The way you lit up when talking about your passions, hands moving widely. He was in love with the way your eyes sparkled constantly now, only rarely being overcome with shadows, ones that he had learned to help dispel, you were laughing more and had even started showing your back again. When you went to the House of Wind to train with Cassian and Azriel one summer afternoon you had removed your top, leaving you in a simple sports bra, not missing the mix of pride and desire in Azriel’s eyes as you continued your exercises.

“Can I ask what happened?” Nesta had asked late that day, Feyre looking up from her book, Nyx cradled in one arm. You had explained, and after, when you expected to be pushed away, Feyre had simply passed Nyx to Nesta and wrapped her arms around you, holding you for a long while, even when the Illyrians entered the room. When she pulled away you noticed the tears in her eyes and offered her a small smile, as she whispered to you.

“You’re with your family now, nothing like that will ever happen again.” And then you were crying too.

Now you were sat in your low-back dress with your hair up, scars on display for anyone to see. You had been woken at nine am by an excited chorus of fae women and all but shoved into a bath, your hair washed, and skin scrubbed until you felt new-born. You had been brought a strong, dark coffee and some honeyed toast as you sat soaking in the bath, your friends moving about outside tidying your room and fishing out everything you needed, before you were pulled from the bath and forced to dry. When you had walked back into the room, you found Mor wiggling her eyebrows as she passed you a bag which, on further inspection, you found contained an intricate set of baby blue lingerie making you laugh loudly as you thumbed the material. They had then crowded you, Nesta drying and styling your hair as Feyre did your face, treating it alike one of her beautiful paintings, Elain painting and filing your nails as Amren and Mor sat sipping on champagne, both donned in beautiful, dark silk dresses, as they discussed the day ahead. You felt alike a princess when they were done and had commented as much, gaining you a glass of champagne and a comment on how you looked like one too. However they soon left, claiming there was much to sort out downstairs and that they had no faith in the boys to get it sorted.

Now you were sat alone, your gaze had moved to outside your window where light snow had started falling. You stood and moved the open window, perching on the ledge, smiling when a robin landed next to you, flying to rest in your palm, it’s ruby coloured breast not making you flinch. You still had nightmares as you were still part god and probably always would have the dreams you had grown used to; however you were making progress.

“If you’re planning on running away that ledge is too high,” You smiled as you heard his voice, turning to see your beautiful mate smiling at you.

“Maybe Cassian can come and fly me out,” you challenged,

“Ha, ha.” He deadpanned and you giggled, standing to wrap yourself in his arms,

“In my world it’s bad luck for the groom to see the bride before the service,” you whispered into his chest,

“This technically isn’t a wedding,”

“That’s a fair point,” you muttered, and he smiled down at you,

“It would be a shame to deprive me of this sight, you look beautiful princess,” he spun you out of his arms and you giggled, making his heart swell with love.

“It would, wouldn’t it?”

“C’mon, we should go soon, Cassian’s already crying,” you laughed and grabbed his hand as he pulled you along and down the stairs. You gasped when you reached the bottom, there were flowers everywhere, the whole room transformed into a fairy wonderland that made you feel giddy. You smiled when you saw that Cassian was in fact, already tearing up as he stood to greet you, complementing you and thanking you for making his brother so happy, you had laughed and shoved him away in your emotional state, not wanting to cry so early, as you moved to the sink in the room that was spraying a fine mist of water, creating a rainbow.

“Oh Iris, Goddess of the Rainbow, show me Nico Di Angelo, Camp half blood.” You threw in a golden drachma, the image wavered before revealing your friends and family on the other side, waving, and sending greetings. The inner circle came over and you all conversed for a while before Azriel was rather impatiently tugging on your hand and you moved onto the ceremony, with just your found families present. Having been raised mortal you insisted on exchanging rings, and Azriel was completely happy to oblige, obsessed with the feeling of pushing the ring onto your finger and kissing you, having someone that was wholly his, and who he was completely devoted to.

The rest of the day was spent curled under Azriel’s arm, sipping cocktails, and laughing as you were told all the most embarrassing things the inner circle could dig up. You ate delicious food and laughed with your friends, you heart aching at how naturally this happiness came to you now as you gazed at the man you loved.

You stood outside, breathing in the fresh air, and enjoying the slight chill that came through the thin shawl you had wrapped around you shoulders. Soon you felt a familiar hand press into your hip, pulling you into his side tightly. You looked up at him, still in wonder of how you landed such a beautiful man.

He caught your gaze, brushing a snowflake of your cheek and grabbing your hand, pressing a light kiss into the palm. “Penny for your thoughts?” He asked, gaze so full of love that tears welled up in your eyes.

“I’m just so glad you got stabbed,” you muttered, and he laughed before you continued, “I’m serious, I don’t know where I’d be if we hadn’t met, but you are everything to me and I’m so glad we pushed through, I’m so glad we fought to be together.”

“I love you.” He whispered into your hair as he pulled you in tightly, his scarred hands moving over your scarred back as you sighed, content.

“I love you.” You replied, pulling away and watching as a red admiral butterfly landed on a nearby poppy.

[amchara]

Road to Hell (Wait for Me, I’m Coming) Part Two - Kit / Ty Hadestown AU

(Part One)

Ty rubbed his face tiredly, as he stared at another chicken-scratch parchment in the Unseelie Court’s library. He looked up and saw that Dru was fast asleep, gently snoring into her crossed arms, while Anush was dazedly flipping through pages of a huge leatherbound book. Mark had left a while ago, muttering something about getting some food for them but he hadn’t returned yet.

Ty looked down at his research, the collected notes he had written over the last day and a half and suddenly it seemed pitiful, compared to the task ahead. Ty could feel the panic rising, his chest tight and he concentrated on the feel of the rough paper underneath his fingertips. He had to get Kit out of Hell and he was taking notes, like he was back in the Scholomance and this was an assignment, instead of… instead of the most important fucking thing in the world.

He hadn’t told Kit how he felt yet. They had only just re-entered each other’s lives over the past two months and were still doing a wary dance as they relearned each other’s steps after three years apart.

There had been a hesitant scene in the L.A. Institute’s atrium when Kit had strolled in, almost as if he had never left, all sunshine gold hair, eyes the colour of a clear autumn sky, and a husky voice with just the slightest hint of an English accent.

There had been the angry, sparse time when Helen had sent them on a patrol together and they had strode along in miserable silence until Kit had finally stopped him and asked where Livvy was- and Ty had snapped back at him, the wound still raw, that he was trying to make amends for everything he’d done but he’d had to do it alone and he wasn’t ready to talk about it. The fragile moment when Kit’s face had crumpled briefly and he told Ty he was sorry he had left and that Ty had had to do it alone. And the appearance of the Raum demons a minute later, interrupting them- but then the glimpse of how it could be, as Kit had stopped him after the attack and insisted on drawing the iratze on Ty’s forearm, his face a study of concentration as they sat in the car before driving back to the Institute.

There had been fleeting, glorious moments in the training room when they had sparred, the pretence of combat a freeing sensation for Ty, as he felt able to finally touch Kit and the look Kit had given him, his breath an uneven whisper on Ty’s collarbone after he pinned him to the floor, almost helping Ty make his decision. But it hadn’t been enough - and the agonising choice of whether to knock - and still being a coward and walking away, almost too quickly, from Kit’s door.

And then that moment in the clearing. When Kit had done the stupid, honourable Herondale thing and sacrificed himself for the rest of them. Ty didn’t think he’d do the same if the situation was reversed - but then again, he was a Blackthorn.

From far away, he could hear a tearing, ripping sound and he came back to himself, noting the confetti of yellow parchment floating down to the ground around him, as he paced back and forth, paper strewn around him and his hands moving almost mechanically as he shredded his carefully taken notes.

Anush looked over at him, finally noticing Ty’s pacing and his eyes widened. And just then, Mark re-appeared in the doorway, carrying a large tray. He let out a curse as he saw Ty, almost knocking over the tray in his hurry to put it down. He crossed the room quickly to stand in front of Ty, gentle as he placed his hands over his brother’s as he clasped them a firm grip. This time, Ty let him in and he drew in a few deep, shuddering breaths as he let the small remains of paper drop.

“It’s all right,” he told Mark. “I have them all memorised.”

Mark nodded. “It’s wise to not leave the notes to Hade unguarded,” he said. He paused. “Although perhaps a bit unkind to the brownie cleaners - but no matter, I’ll arrange to speak to them.”

There was a stretch of silence. “I’m leaving tomorrow morning,” Ty said. “I can’t wait too long- we don’t know if time moves differently in Hades compared to the rest of Faerie and I can’t risk it.”

Mark’s eyes searched Ty’s face - not seeking eye contact but a different kind of reassurance. He seemed to find it, and he dropped Ty’s hands. “Then we’ll prepare to go together - you’re not going alone,” he said. A chorus joined in - a rousing if slightly terrified response from Anush, and a sleepy affirmation from Dru, who appeared to have just woken up.

Ty felt a brief moment of terror that he was bringing more people into what his research told him was likely a suicide mission… but the ice cold shiver of memories and Livvy’s pleading, drained face swam into view and he swallowed his protests. He didn’t think he could go through it alone again.

—

The ivory keys of the grand piano were always immaculately polished and Kit wondered whose job it was to clean them. His job was to play the music and he thanked - well, it wasn’t God and it wasn’t the Angel Raziel - but he thanked his lucky stars that he had picked up some basic songs from Jace the previous summer when he had visited the New York Institute, and that Jem had considered learning to read music by sight an essential part of a well-rounded education, alongside Kit’s Shadowhunter training and mundane school.

In contrast to the bright electric fluorescence that lit the warren of overly warm machinery-filled rooms that Kit had started to refer to as Hadestown, Persephone’s conservatory was different, with its faded white, latticed walls and high glass ceilings letting in the smallest fraction of outside light.

It reminded him of where he had lived with Jem, Tessa and Mina - in… C- In Cir- Kit’s mind stuttered. He didn’t know how long he had been here - the days were starting to blur together and he was worried he was starting to forget more than just the little things.

He stared down at the piano keys as the large ornamental clock on the wall struck eleven. Like clockwork precision, Persephone waltzed in, her movements sultry but sulky as always. She threw some new music books at Kit and he caught them awkwardly, balancing them on his lap.

“These ones - I don’t care which one you play first today,” she said, sitting down on the long fainting couch across from him, her black hair spilling over the white satin fabric as she rested her head. Kit tried not to stare at her deep decolletage, which was prominently framed by the tight red dress she was wearing. She noticed as he turned away and her gaze was hungry as she looked at him.

Kit looked down as he chose a music book and blindly opened it to a first page he saw. He started playing, a crooning jazz number singing out underneath his fingers. He didn’t know if it was because he was in Faerie or the spell he could feel he was under but he was a much better musician here than in the mundane world. The tight, lost look on Persephone’s face began to relax as the melody echoed in the conservatory.

As he finished the first song and began another, his movements almost automatic, Kit allowed himself to think again, of escape - of returning to the land of the living - to his family, to the Shadowhunter institutions he was slowly becoming accustomed to again, to… Ty. To what might be between them, although he had almost strangled that hope, locked it away tight and deep inside his heart. What they had resurrected - if that word could be used - given previous circumstances was almost a miracle, Kit thought, hard fought for and one that he hadn’t been about to throw away on foolish too-soon declarations of love. Even so, when he had seen that faerie arrow aimed straight at Ty’s heart, he hadn’t hesitated. He might not be ever able to tell Ty how he felt but at least he had been able to show it in his actions, he mused.

And he wasn’t about to give up on leaving this hellhole, although each unrelenting day in this dull, dark and depressing place of dust and hollow-eyed workers pulled at that hope. But he clung to his memories - to the now-dimly lit memories of the outside world. Of his love for a black-haired, grey-eyed boy with his sharp intellect and fierce love of his family, who saw the world in a different light than most, and was - had been willing - and maybe, might be willing again to share it with Kit.

The last note rang out as he finished the song and he drew his hands back, muscles aching. He had been playing for nearly an hour. In the sudden silence, Persephone let out a ragged sigh.

“Who is the love that you play for, boy?” she said, her voice ancient and rough. She rose from the couch and crossed the floor, her dress swishing across the smooth marble. “I have heard many love songs in my years… but yours is one that I haven’t heard in an eon. Tell me their name.” Her green eyes glistened with unshed tears.

But Kit remained silent. He knew instinctively if he said Ty’s name, he would lose it. He shook his head, his lips pressed together.

Persephone narrowed her eyes, and she reached out, as if to stroke his brow. Kit evaded her and stood up. He had been coming to play for her for several times now, and he had started to learn her ways. He needed a distraction. “I saw that crack in the wall- is that new, Persephone?” Kit lowered his voice as he gestured across the room. “I know you’re a captive as much as I am. Let me help you- we can escape together and then I will tell you.”

Persephone’s laugh was as dry as a winter’s wind as she sized him up. “Oh, that’s adorable, my sweet-” she said. “But I made my choice long ago and it’s--” her eyes suddenly moved past him. “It’s the love I deserve,” her voice suddenly was filled with honey and springtime.

Kit knew that Hades had arrived, and he tried to quell the fear rising in him as he turned around.

The man - fae - god or whatever he was - was standing in the doorway, casually watching them.

“Leave him,” he said in his deep voice. “I desire your company.”

Persephone swept past Kit without another word and draped herself across Hades. “Of course my darling- I am here. What shall we do?”

Hades took a moment to whisper into her ear and Persephone looked uncomfortable but let out a deep, throaty chuckle. “Of course.”

Hades smiled, with a devilish twist and he pulled her away, starting down the hall.

But then he stopped and looked back at Kit. “Your shift here has ended - get back on the assembly line.”

Kit looked down at his rough worker’s uniform, smeared with rust and dust and he forced himself to nod evenly - he knew from past experience that it was unwise to argue with Hades.

Hades’ firelit eyes swept over him. “And once that is over - come see me in my office.”

And at that, Kit knew that he was in trouble. Hades had summoned him twice since his arrival to his office, after the initial contract signing. Each time afterwards Kit had found himself weak and gasping on the floor outside, his mind blank and unsure of what had passed behind the walls of the office. Nothing good, he thought grimly - and that was likely the cause of his increasingly fuzzy memory recall.

He needed to escape and soon. He nodded again and Hades left with Persephone. Kit started to make his way to the factory floor. On his way out of the conservatory, he bumped into a small, bird-framed girl with a luminous beauty and whose too-large eyes must have been lively once but were now faded and glazed over with the thousand yard stare that all Hades’ workers had. That he might soon have. “What’s your name?” Kit asked the girl, trying not to sound desperate.

She looked up at him. “I- Eu- I…” she looked puzzled and sad. “I don’t know.” she said.

Kit felt a stab of despair.

Tag list: (let me know if you want to be added / removed!)

@jesse-is-spiraling @dontmindmyshadowhunting @sandersgrey @thechangeling

[ahopelessromantic]

Florence ➳ S. Reid

Pairing: Spencer x Reader (It’s mostly neutral except for one mention of a dress)

Word count: 2k

Warnings: None, Hotch is awesome

Your job isn’t exactly the easiest and you always knew that sometimes, it was going to interfere with your personal life. But when you and Spencer slowly start turning into strangers, you begin to worry.

„You know, if you take a picture it might last longer. “ Your head whipped around just in time to see Emily throw her head back in a cackle. Feeling the slightest bit ashamed you lowered your head to hide the blush spreading across your cheeks. “I can’t help it he’s gorgeous, okay?” You mumbled with a pout. Your gaze had been fixated on Spencer all day or, to be precise, on certain… features of his. Emily rolled her desk chair closer to yours, a teasing grin still on her lips. “What’s got you so interested in your boyfriend though? You’re not normally this… tense.”

You were about to snap back that you weren’t tense at all when Spencer clenched his jaw in concentration and your breath quite literally hitched in your throat. “Is it really that obvious?” You sighed; you gaze once again following the movement of his hands. Prentiss patted your shoulder in the sisterly manner she always displayed around you. “Honey, at this point I think even Hotch noticed. Your eyes have been lusting after Spencer all week as if you hadn’t been dating for a year already. Has it, uh… been long?” You almost choked on nothing but thin air. “Shit, it really is that obvious.” You coughed out once you had remotely recovered. “It’s not easy, you know? Whenever I’m done with my paperwork, he has a geographical profile to get to, and whenever he’s free I’m out kicking down doors with Morgan. And then, in the little downtime we have anyway, we’re either catching up on sleep or interrupted by another emergency. I think it’s been weeks since I’ve even seen his bellybutton.” Emily grimaced. “Okay, weird picture in my head right there. But I get what you mean.” You smiled weakly. “Somehow it felt easier when we had just started dating. We were always so afraid of accidentally losing each other that we didn’t really care about anything else besides ourselves, but now that we’re an established couple it’s like we’ve got these roles to fulfil. Especially since we’re also constantly afraid that Hotch might make a full one-eighty after all and forbid us from being together or something.” “What about the downtime on the jet though? There shouldn’t be any disturbances there?” You gasped. “What the hell Emily?!” There it was again, that devilish grin on her face. “You know what?!” You hissed, trying to fight the smile on your lips. “Forget I ever talked to you about this. You know nothing, Emily Prentiss.” With that, you returned your full attention back to your boyfriend’s hands writing down coordinates on a whiteboard. But of course, now you were watching him with the hint of a grin.

“I miss you, you know that?” You whispered into the darkness of the room, leaning your head against the wall behind you to give Spencer more access to your neck. “Honey, I miss you more. God, has your perfume always driven me that crazy?” You grinned and pulled him against you to capture his lips in a scalding kiss. But of course, like always recently, fate wasn’t kind to the two of you. Your little make-out-session was interrupted by Morgan hammering against the door of the BAU’s bathroom. “We’ve got a case, you two. Wheels up in thirty and please, for the love of God, get your stares under control at least for tonight, okay?” You looked at Spencer, who had a sheepish smile on his face. “Morgan’s been on my case all week because he keeps on noticing me staring at you.” You groaned and buried your head in your hands. “Prentiss has been on mine. She keeps on having to pull me back into reality because I keep getting distracted by you.” For a moment a proud grin hushed across his features at the prospect of being the reason for your distraction, but then he visibly deflated. “I feel like we really need a break from all this.” You nodded sadly. “We really do. I fear what’s going to happen to us otherwise. Am I going to faint at the sight of your ankles like a Victorian lady?” He breathed out a laugh, but the sombre mood remained. “I’ll ask Hotch if we can have a few days off.”

It had all sounded so amazing. You, Spencer, a remote cabin in the mountains and all the time and space to reconnect again. You had both prepared by packing your favourite books, to read to each other, card games, to cheat on each other with, and oversized sweaters, to borrow to each other. You had even already gone grocery shopping to get that out of the way for the short trip into the mountains. But two children had been abducted, and the BAU needed its Team���s full capacities to handle the case. So the reservation had been cancelled, the groceries stored away and the comfortable sweaters exchanged for work-appropriate clothes in your weekender bags.

“I’m exhausted.” Spencer sighed while leaning against you on the jet. The circles underneath his eyes ran deeper than ever before and you couldn’t help the gnawing feeling of worry in your chest. You didn’t just need a break to give your relationship some of its old life back, you needed a break to really recuperate and finally sleep again. “I know, honey.” You murmured and played with his hair. He was knocked out in a matter of minutes, your heavy gaze never lifting from your lover’s tired face. “I’m sorry again, you two.” Hotch quietly spoke after sitting down across from you. You smiled weakly and shrugged. “It wasn’t your fault, please don’t feel like it is. This is just… how our lives are, right?” His ever so worried look wandered from you to a sleeping Spencer leaned against your shoulders. “I used to make excuses that this was just how things were going to be sometimes. But it helped neither me nor Haley nor our marriage. Don’t… let this become your lives’ sole content, okay?” You looked at him a bit helplessly. “But how, Hotch? At this point, I feel like I don’t even know what private time is anymore. The most intimate moment I’ve had with Spencer this month was when he saved me from a bullet. Literally. How are we ever going to balance that?” The smallest of smiles fleeted across his lips. “You can start trying to tomorrow.” You frowned in confusion. “Tomorrow?” “Starting tomorrow, if I see either of you in the BAU, I’ll have to fire you. Sorry. Don’t come back before the week is over.” You were about to protest, but he was already getting up from his seat and you couldn’t move due to your boyfriend being asleep on you. Aaron Hotchner was either the worst or the best boss in the world, you just couldn’t really decide yet.

Aaron Hotchner was the best boss in the world. With a smile you rolled your shoulders, revelling in the warmth that hovered in the air. Spencer was dozing off on the balcony, his hands still clutching a copy of A Room with a View in them, a cup of honey tea standing long forgotten on a little table next to him. He had an innocent, serene look on his face, the slight tan of the Italian sun doing wonders for his complexion. “Amore.”, you whispered carefully not to shock him. He sleepily opened his eyes, the sun painting their colour a molten gold. “Hmm?” He hummed, placing his book next to the mug and pulling you onto his lap. “We have to get going if we want to make it to our tour through the Galleria Degli Uffizi on time.” He closed his eyes again and leaned further into his chair, pulling you with him. “Five more minutes, love. Let me enjoy the view.” You grinned. “You’ve got your eyes closed, Spence.” “Yeah.”, he smiled. “I’m thinking of you in the dress you wore to dinner yesterday.” You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the heat rising to your cheeks. “Before or after I got scampi all over it?” “After it laid on the floor of our room.” You laughed and slapped his shoulder. “Pervertito.”, you hummed. His eyes were watching you now, a lazy grin on his lips. You had missed talking to him like this, without a rush or worry that your shared moment was going to be stolen any minute. As soon as you had realised that Hotch was fully intending on going through with his threat of firing you two if you showed up at work you had booked a short trip to Florence, something Spencer and you had been wanting to do for ages but never got around to do. You didn’t want to lose any more time stealing moments with him, you wanted the time to be yours again. So not even one whole day after the finished case you had already sat on the plane, ready to leave your work behind you for at least a week. And it had been one of your best ideas so far, if not ever. Florence was absolutely stunning. It had enough museums to keep you and your genius boyfriend entertained for months, enough amazing food for you to never get bored of it and a beautiful enough apartment for the two of you to never want to leave again. “What’s your plan?” You asked Spencer at dinner that night. He frowned, putting down his fork for the moment. “My plan?” “About what’s next.”, you elaborated. “I love this, us, here in Italy. And we really needed it. I want to know where we’ll go next, so I have something to look forward to. I thought taking it easy and living into the day was the best way to go for a while, but that way we’ll always allow work to get in the way. We need established times off like this.” He smiled and took your hand across the table. “Okay. Well then, let me see. I’ve always wanted to go to Russia, especially St. Petersburg for the Eremitage. Then Munich, probably. From there we could make a trip to go see Neuschwanstein Castle. Seoul and Busan, to try out all the amazing food markets. Now that I think of it, there are actually tons of places I want to visit with you.” You smiled, a warm feeling bubbling in your chest. “That all sounds amazing. Looks like we still have a lot to see.”

“There they are.” Morgan greeted you with a grin, enveloping you in a tight hug. The Team had all been waiting for your arrival in the bullpen, ready to be complete again. “How was it?”, JJ asked with a wide smile. “Amazing.”, you sighed, leaning back against Spencer who out his arm around you. “We saw Michelangelo’s David, and I’m still not over how gigantic that statue is. And the food, you guys, the food was incredible.” Spencer turned to look at you, and the way his attention was still on you in a room full of people made your spine tingle. “(Y/N) picked a fight with an Italian about wine, though.” You giggled. “I think it was a relative of yours, Rossi.” Rossi rolled his eyes and chuckled. “Probably. Did you bring me my truffle oil though?” “We brought something for everyone, actually.”, you said proudly. “I’ll go get it.” Spencer hummed and pressed a kiss against your temple before disappearing down the hallway. Emily grimaced. “Somehow it was funnier when you were still losing your minds over each other. I had forgotten how lovey-dovey you normally are.” You just grinned at her. “You’ll stop complaining once you see what I got for you.” The banter continued like that, the whole Team just glad to have its old dynamics back, Spencer and yours included. That night you all sat in the conference room and drank the wine you had brought with you, Henry and Jack fast asleep on the sofa with their new toys. Your trip to Florence had been short, but looking around you, you weren’t worried about you and Spencer getting to that point of craziness again. This had been your wake-up call, and you were going to seize it. Italy had been the first of your trips together, but certainly not the last. Soon, the BAU would have a whole wall of postcards from all over the world.

[cheri-translates]

[CN] Kiro’s Entwining Date (Eng Translation)

🍒 Warning: This post contains detailed spoilers for an incredibly s p i c y date which has not been released in English servers! 🍒

Valentine’s 2020 Collection: Gavin // Lucien // Victor

The date begins with MC watching a live broadcast of an annual award ceremony, which announces that Kiro has won the grand award.

MC grabs the congratulatory card and present she prepared, heading out to decorate Kiro’s house for a mini celebration party.

Along the way, she receives news that for some unknown reason, Kiro was absent from a product launch that he was supposed to be a spokesperson for.

She enters Kiro’s house using the keys Savin gave her and starts decorating. 

After a while, Kiro enters the house looking melancholic, with Savin nagging behind him. Savin tells her to keep an eye on Kiro to ensure he gets proper rest and not exert himself.

After Savin rushes off to deal with the press, Kiro explains that he is unable to move his neck and back.

Kiro: I just finished dance practice and heard Savin calling me at the door. I turned my neck using too much force and couldn’t move my neck afterwards. The doctor said it’s a sprain.

Saying this, he despondently grabs a pillow and hugs it to his chest in a state of utter devastation.

Kiro: [pouting] I wasn’t even doing any big movements.

Even so, Kiro is happy that he gets a day of rest.

He suggests that they slip out to visit an interesting shop nearby. While Kiro’s puppy eyes cause MC to hesitate, she refuses so Kiro can rest. Despite his unwillingness, Kiro rests on the bed. She sits on a chair next to the bed so she can watch over him.

He grabs my fingers and plays with them restlessly. It feels ticklish. I try to draw my hand back but he refuses to let go.

Kiro: I can’t sleep. When you spend time with me, I can’t bear to close my eyes.

Kiro’s words soften my heart. Due to our busy schedules, it has been a long while since we last spent time alone together.

MC: When we’re less busy, let’s go to the interesting shop you mentioned, okay?

Kiro: Yes, let’s!

The corners of Kiro’s lips lift. As though discovering a new form of amusement, he patiently plays with my fingers one by one. 

His fingers are soft and smooth. I experience a strange palpitation whenever our fingers meet. I avert my gaze, the outer rim of my ears turning red.

Kiro: Miss Chips has very soft fingers.

MC: [blushing] They’re all right…

I’m unable to control the acceleration of my heart rate. In order to loosen my hand from his, I grab the phone off the bedside table and hand it to him.

MC: Since you don’t want to sleep, I’ll let you use your phone.

Looking as though he can’t bear to let go of my hand, he takes the phone and sees that the screen is filled with tons of notifications.

Kiro guesses that his fans are worried about the sudden cancellation of the product launch and decides to post something on his Weibo account to dispel their concerns. He tries but fails to take a selfie in his injured state, so MC helps.

On the screen, there is an incredibly adorable combination of Kiro lying on the soft bed, his messy golden hair, and the teddy bear next the pillow.

Kiro: Why is my hair so messy?

His eyes widen, dismay written all over his features. I reach out and tidy his messy hair, suppressing the urge to mess it up even more.

Kiro obediently leaves his hair to me, a smile appearing on his lips.

MC: It’s going to be perfect this time.

I look him over, satisfied, and snap three consecutive photos of Kiro before showing them to him.

MC: Don’t you look very handsome now?

Kiro has a look of satisfaction as he starts typing, reading his words aloud.

Kiro: “Even though I can’t move, it’s because of this incident that I can have an afternoon of leisure”…done!

Comments start flooding in after mere seconds:

“Does such beauty truly exist?”

“Oh my god, I can lick this face for a lifetime.” 

“I’m there, I’m that bear!”

While he’s overjoyed at the compliments, he reads on:

Kiro: “Just look, it’s obvious he has put on weight again”…I definitely did not gain weight, it’s just the angle!

In a huff, Kiro readies himself to respond to this comment with a retort. I hurriedly take the phone away from him.

MC: You should rest and not respond to these comments! Let me read them to you instead.

Kiro: Since you put it that way…

With a “hmph”, he gives up on the idea. I clear my throat and begin reading the comments.

MC: “Congratulations to Kiro for winning the award! Please rest well today! To commemorate Kiro’s face, I danced a Waltz of love!” Haha, what an expression. “My heart is in critical condition! Hugging… my husband… feels like a 100 meter sprint.”

I pause when reading the words “my husband”, feeling my face heat up. Kiro smiles as he looks at me, his eyes brimming with contentment.

MC: The next one says, “Who took the photo? Why does Kiro…”

…have such a sweet look in his eyes?

I look at the photo I had taken - Kiro stares into the camera with a sweet look in his eyes, like a little bear hugging a honey pot.

Kiro: MC? Why have you stopped?

Kiro curiously sneaks a peek at the screen, but I react immediately and lift the phone so he can no longer see it.

Kiro: Very suspicious… why aren’t you letting me see?

Kiro gets even more excited, stretching out his hand for the phone.

Kiro: Ouch!

He groans and falls back onto the bed. I get a fright, no longer caring about the phone. I immediately check on his condition.

Half of his face is buried under the covers, the corner of his eyes brimming with tears. I carefully touch his arm.

MC: Are you okay?

Kiro: [groans]

MC: Is it very serious?

I start panicking. Seeing that my guard is down, Kiro uses this opportunity to pull me onto the bed with him.

Kiro: [laughing] Did I scare you?

He laughs while reappearing from under the covers. It is only now that I realise he was joking, and I let out a sigh of relief.

At this point, MC remembers that she prepared a present for Kiro. She retrieves and gives it to him. He opens it excitedly.

The box is filled with small stars folded using fluorescent paper. In the middle of these paper stars is a golden-coloured glass bottle with moving sand.

Kiro: This is so pretty…

He carefully shakes the bottle, and the gold-coloured sand slowly drifts, reflecting sunlight.

Seeing him engrossed with it, I drop him a hint.

MC: The bottle itself isn’t the main thing. There’s something in it.

Kiro: Is it a drink? Or perfume?

Kiro twists the bottle open, and a faint pine tree scent wafts into the room.

Kiro: This is… a scented bottle?

MC: Nope. This is a special essential oil I had an expert masseur make during a shoot. I heard that it’s effective for relaxing one’s muscles. I didn’t expect that it’d be of use now!

Kiro: Essential oil…

Kiro recalls that the shoot involving essential oil took place when the list of shortlisted candidates for the award was just announced. He is surprised that MC had prepared the gift so far in advance.

MC: …That’s because I knew you would definitely win! And even if you didn’t win, it could be used to comfort you.

There is a smile in Kiro’s eyes, and he takes my hand in his, such that my palm faces upwards.

MC: W-what are you doing?

Kiro: I want to try this gift.

A drop of oil lands on my palm and he rubs it slowly, spreading it across my palm evenly. The pine scent permeates the room, and the fragrance of fresh flowers soon follows. The liquid is quickly absorbed into my skin, and my palm seems to heat up.

Kiro holds my fingers gently, then brings himself closer to them. He sniffs my fingers lightly, his lips curling into a smile.

Kiro: It’s a nice smell. It’s a scent I like.

MC: !!

I am taken aback by Kiro’s sudden breath on my palm, and my heart beats at an unnatural rhythm.

Kiro doesn’t let go of my hand. He picks up the black ribbon resting on the gift box, taking his time to wrap them around my wrists.

His gaze shifts to me, his vibrant eyes making me forget how to react, and I let him continue.

Kiro: And like that, it’s done!

After saying this, he holds my wrist and pulls me closer, planting the side of his face on my palm before gently leaning into it.

As his soft golden hair brushes against my fingertips, my fingers involuntarily tremble. My palm is coated with his body temperature.

He tilts his head slightly, pressing his lips onto my palm, as if branding me with a permanent kiss.

Kiro: Actually, you are the best prize and gift to me.

Sunlight streams in from between the curtains and onto his eyes, giving me a clear view of the gentleness and adoration in them. My heart feels like it has melted into a puddle. At the same time, his transparent emotions cause my heart to heat up.

MC: I… how about I give you a massage…

I feel like biting my tongue after the words leave my lips. What am I saying!

Kiro: Sure!

Before I can change my mind, Kiro has already agreed without hesitation.

Kiro: Do I need to take my clothes off for the massage?

Saying this, he shrugs off his jacket, and both hands start pulling the ends of his t-shirt to reveal his sculpted abdomen.

MC: Wait!

Heat floods into my brain and I immediately grab the bottom of his shirt to pull it back down.

Kiro: I don’t need to take them off?

Kiro blinks, looking at me innocently.

MC: I’m just giving it a try. If you remove your shirt, it’d be easy to catch a cold.

With an “ohh”, he lets go of his shirt, his face betraying a hint of disappointment.

MC: …Go lie down on your stomach.

While Kiro obediently turns to lie down, I place my hands on my chest to calm my rapidly beating heart.

MC begins the massage, applying what she learnt from the massage expert

She does it gently and Kiro is on the verge of falling asleep

She calls Kiro’s name to check if he’s asleep, and he snaps out of his daze

Feeling bad for disturbing him, MC continues:

MC: …You can sleep if you want to.

I speak gently. Noticing that a strand of hair near his eyes makes Kiro slightly uncomfortable, I reach out to sweep it away.

Kiro: But I don’t feel like sleeping anymore.

He blinks, his voice slightly nasally and coquettish.

Kiro: I felt too comfortable just now, so I almost fell asleep.

He grabs hold of my hand. In a playful manner, he gently pinches my palm twice.

Kiro: Thank you, Miss Chips.

MC: No need to thank me. It just shows that my technique is not bad, right?

Kiro: Mm, this is a great present.

His eyebrows are curved upwards and he smiles softly.

Kiro: I like the feeling of you touching me.

He interlaces our fingers together, then hooks my thumb with his.

Kiro: I realized that humans, like animals, like to be touched and have their hair combed through.

MC: Is it because it’s very comfortable?

Kiro: It is really very comfortable. If that person is a loved one, her hands and body temperature would have an even more addictive effect.

A warmth emanates from our joined palms, and I can feel myself starting to sweat.

MC starts ruffling Kiro’s hair, and they banter for a while.

Kiro: I feel very happy whenever you’re by my side. Although sometimes, I do think of being a little closer to you.

Even before I pick out the hidden meaning in his words, I instinctively seek to change the subject.

MC: My massage techniques are quite mediocre though. I’ll introduce you to the masseur another time.

Kiro: I don’t want anyone else.

Kiro pouts, turning to face me.

Kiro: I only want my Miss Chips…

His voice trails off, and I am rooted to the spot. I am leaning over him, face-to-face with Kiro. Just a slight lowering of my head would be enough for me to kiss him.

Our breathing becomes ragged, and the initially peaceful atmosphere in the room seems to turn into boiling water.

Although Kiro doesn’t speak, I can feel his quickening breaths on my face. His grip on my hand tightens.

As though being in this position is too dangerous, I come to my senses and straighten up, putting distance between us.

Kiro sits up, his hand still on mine, giving me no chance to escape.

MC: We…

Kiro: I have not finished unwrapping my gift.

His words leave me frozen.

MC: What present?

Anticipating that I would respond this way, he laughs. 

Kiro: My present… is you of course.

His voice carries an evident smile. I look into his blue eyes, which hide within them the expansiveness of the sky.

A black ribbon appears in his hands, and he wraps them around his fingers, the colour of the ribbon striking a sharp contrast against his pale skin.

MC: …Why do you say that I’m the present?

He doesn’t respond. His abrupt silence leaves me not knowing what to do. Before I repeat my question, he suddenly hooks the ribbon over the back of my neck, and my heart skips a beat.

MC: W-what are you doing?

Kiro: Make a guess?

He arches an eyebrow. His usual playful expression is replaced with a sudden sexiness.

He resumes his work with the ribbon while I remain kneeling on the bed. He slowly pulls me closer to him. Although he isn’t exerting much strength, I can’t help but give in to the tug of the ribbon.

Our breaths mingle and we can no longer tell them apart.

Kiro: Since this is a present for me, I will open it very, very slowly.

He says this languidly, curling his words with the tip of his tongue, ending his sentence in a low voice.

At this moment, the ribbon has become a string encircling my heart, letting it beat only for him.

Kiro is unwilling to stop here. He takes one end of the ribbon into his mouth and bites it firmly, the corners of his mouth lifting with a certain look.

The light descends onto the bridge of his nose, the clear lines of his jaw, spreading to his Adam’s apple. He oozes hormones of a different kind than usual.

His free hand rubs my thigh gently, and the sound of my skirt ruffling is especially clear.

Such unobstructed physical contact feels like fire, setting every inch of my skin ablaze. My body involuntarily trembles.

My breathing becomes increasingly ragged as he continues his upward motions. My heart beats rapidly, and my mind is completely blank, only remembering to shout his name.

MC: Kiro…

Kiro: It is time to receive my present.

The corner of his mouth is raised as he slowly releases the black ribbon on my neck. The ribbon slides down my body. I look into his wide eyes and let down my defenses. In a moment, the distance between us is barely visible.

Kiro: Miss Chips, you are a gift sent from heaven, a gift that I have awaited for my whole life, a gift that is most precious to me.

His gentle voice disappears into the space where our lips meet, melting into a quiet whisper.

Unlike his gentle tone, his kiss resembles a storm, forcefully entering and occupying all available space, leaving not a single crevice untouched.

The temperature rises sharply between our intertwining lips and tongue. Our exchange of breaths strips away all my senses and thoughts.

The almost inaudible sound of water echoes in the quiet room. The arm encircling my waist pulls me even closer against his body.

All the blood in my body is set ablaze, engulfing the little rationality I have left.

Suddenly, there is the sound of a door opening in the living room, followed by a conversation between Savin and the assistant.

Savin: Kiro should be resting. You can head to the kitchen to wash the ingredients for our hotpot later.

Assistant: Sure, but isn’t this a little too much…

I snap out of my daze after a few seconds and realise the situation Kiro and I are in.

MC: They’re back!

My panic completely dismantles the earlier atmosphere, and I muster the strength to tear myself from Kiro’s arms.

Even before I shift to the edge of the bed, Kiro wraps an arm around my waist, pulling me backwards.

We both fall onto the bed, a tangled mess of sheets beneath us. The teddy bear has fallen off the bed.

Kiro holds me tightly from behind, and my back is pressed against his chest.

Sweat soaks the fabric, which clings to our closely connected skin, bringing with it an intimate and sticky feeling.

I feel his scorching breath on the nape of my neck. It weaves through my sweat-drenched hair, lingering on my skin.

The sound of footsteps outside grows louder, causing me to tense up. I open my mouth to speak, but can only let out an inaudible gasp.

Kiro’s lips are pressed against the back of my ear, and a low and raspy voice follows.

Kiro: There’s no need to be nervous. The room is locked.

🎁

Phone Call

[theimprobabledreamersworld]

An unexpected sequel :’)

Soo... it’s pretty rare for my to turn a one-shot fic into a multi-chapter one... but here we go!

I was reading poetry on my break at work, and then this idea came to mind for ‘Hello, Darling’- it was too good a writing challenge to pass up on. It’s classic fluff, but I hope you like it! <3

Writing taglist: @psychedelicships @red-imeanblue @jwillowwolf @lost-in-thought-20 @writerwithtoomanyships @edupunkn00b (I know you’re not on this normally, but it’s a sequel to the Dr Who one!) 

If you’d like to be added to my general writing taglist, let me know! <3

Read on Ao3!

Love Letters and Promises.

It had been just over a year since the events of Virgil’s last kidnapping. Logan stayed for a few days to make sure he was safe afterwards. They wined, dined, laughed, and cried while just being completely enamoured in each other’s company. Then Logan had to go again, this job had a significant fee and it seemed important. So Virgil reluctantly agreed to let him go, knowing that he could never be sure when he would return. Virgil carried on with his day to day routine, hoping that Logan would be waiting for him when he opened the front door to the house they created into a home. He never lost hope though, despite it all, he loved Logan and there was no way he would ever stop.

Today was supposed to be their wedding anniversary, he stared at his ring forlornly. It was crazy, but he couldn’t help but hope to get kidnapped, at least it meant that Virgil would see Logan again. Janus was right after all, whenever Virgil was in danger, Logan comes running. He made that promise before he left a year ago. A small part of him just hoped that he would come back, just for today. As he continued to fiddle with his wedding ring, the doorbell which startled him. He walked to the door and looked through the hole, just to be on the safe side, something Logan asked him to do. When he saw no one there, he ignored the little voice in his head telling him to stay inside and he opened the door slowly.

There was no one there, and no one around so Virgil breathed a sigh of relief. Then he looked down and gasped at what was on the doorstep. A bouquet of flowers, a bottle with a message inside and a box of chocolates. He smiled widely as he stared in awe at the bright colours of the flowers before taking the cork out of the bottle and watching the paper flutter out into his hands. He began to read the letter, drinking in all of the words.

My Darling Virgil,

You would always say that things seemed… clearer when they were written down. Well, here with a very boring letter; I will try to put everything down so you may read, and re-read at what is essentially your foolishness in getting involved with me…

‘Deep breaths’ as you so often say.

To begin with, I love you; with a depth and passion that I have felt for no one else in this life. If it astonishes you, it astonishes me as well. Not because you are not worthy of loving, far from it. It’s just that… first of all, I have never felt this before and it’s almost… frightening. Secondly, I would never have thought it possible that another person could occupy my every living moment to the exclusion of almost everything else. Thirdly, I never thought that even if someone was in love… they could get completely entangled with another person, so that even a minute away from them felt like a thousand years. I never hoped, aspired, dreamed that I could find everything I wanted in one person. I was not such an idiot as to believe this was possible.

Yet in you, I found everything I want. You are handsome, happy, caring, gentle, wonderfully intelligent, and wonderfully silly as well. I want nothing else in this life than to be with you. To listen to you and watch you. You. Your beautiful voice, your beauty. To argue with you, to laugh with you, to show you things and share things with you, to explore your magnificent mind. To help you, protect you and bash you on the head when I think you’re wrong.

Not to put too fine a point on it, I think I’m the only man outside mythology to have found the gold at the end of the rainbow.

Let me tell you something. I have seen a thousand sunsets and sunrises out of the window through a multi-coloured nest of clouds where it floods the land with honey coloured light. I’ve seen a thousand moons, harvest moons like golden coins, winter moons as white as ice, new moons like swan feathers. I’ve seen seas as smooth as if they were painted on the horizon, blue as a Kingfisher, transparent as glass. I’ve felt fierce winds that churned and moved the trees around me, I’ve felt calming winds that lulled me to sleep when all I could think about was being home with you. I’ve known silence. The cold, implacable stony silence of a deep cave. The hot midday silence when everything is hypnotised and stilled into silence by the eye of the sun.  I’ve seen tree frogs singing in an orchestration as complicated as Bach while being bathed in the light of a million emerald fireflies. I’ve smelled the scent of a million flowers, all of which I wish I could have plucked and gathered up to give to you. These might seem like simple, everyday things. In all the time that I have been a thief, there is one regret that will always remain in my heart.

I have stolen so many wonderful artifacts, and I have seen so many incredible things… But all this, I did without you, and this was my loss. All of this and more, I want to do again with you, this will be my gain. All of this, I would gladly have forgone for the sake of one minute of your company. For your laugh, your voice, your eyes, hair, lips, body and above all; for your sweet, ever surprising mind which is an enchanting quarry. In which it’s my privilege to delve.

I will be home soon. One more job and I’m finished for good. I cannot bare to spend any more time away from you. I promise. Please, wait for me.

All my love,

Logan.

Virgil felt his eyes fill with tears, and he clutched the letter to his chest. This was the first time Logan had ever written something like this, and he could tell that every single word was the truth. Logan would be coming home to him, and they could be together. He honestly couldn’t wait. The hopeful flame in his heart was re-ignited and it burned bright in his chest. He started to pick everything up and he could have sworn that he heard footsteps from the side of the house.

“Logan?” Virgil whispered into the air.

“I’m here, love.” Virgil turned his head quickly, he rubbed his eyes to make sure that Logan was genuinely in front of him. He ran over and wrapped his arms around Logan, and he couldn’t help but smile when Logan embraced him back. They broke apart and stepped into the house together.

“I told you I’d keep my promise.”

[hanideyumeron]

Hi! Love your writing, it's really good! If it doesn't bother you, could you do a yugi amane (when it was alive) x a sick reader. Thank you!

forgive me friend for not doing this ;-; i hope you understand since this year has been so hectic. i don’t think this is my most best work but hey i tried hhh i still feel really confused when on tumblr so forgive me for that as well

Amane Yugi x sick reader 

It was a normal day for everyone, that is, everyone except for Yugi Amane. His honey coloured eyes didn’t have that playful twinkle it always had and instead was narrowed in what seemed like concern. They darted over to the door of the classroom too much for his comfort, wondering if your bubbly figure would come any moment now. No one noticed it since it was only reg and most students were talking to each other. Yes, it was only reg, it would be fine, you’d come in at any time now. his thoughts were a mirage of worry and what-ifs that made his head swirl. However, the sounds of his reg class laughing and talking started to drown out those thoughts. He folded his arms and laid his head flat against the desk. With his swirling thoughts, the noise only worsened his mood and slowly turned into a headache. People could be so annoying sometimes. 

In the end, you didn’t come. 

Amane was at first worried since you believed in perfect attendance, wondering out loud where you were to his brother at break. He had looked at him and blinked with a smile, pointing out one big detail that Amane seemed to have missed “Amane, it was raining really hard yesterday, remember? She might have just got sick! Don’t worry too much,’kay?” Amane looked at his brother with a face of realisation, mouth-blown out like an ‘o’ while his eyes regained its twinkle. That was right, the huge droplets of water had refused to let go of their reign of the land when it was time to go home, and so through critical deduction of solutions, you and Tsukasa had a race to see who could run home the fastest. 

Amane had voiced his concerns for the idea, but since you and his brother had already shot out into the rain, he sighed and followed the two of you but more slowly and of course with an umbrella. He didn’t know how Tsukasa wasn’t worried for you since it wasn’t like you to be off at all. You had once come into school when you had a tummy bug and made a scene when you ran to the nearest bathroom. If you went to school with an upset stomach, this must be even more serious. Amane was also confused about how Tsukasa didn’t get sick himself but didn’t bother to ask since it would have been a stupid question. 

Even if Tsukasa said not to worry, of course, Amane started to worry more. It was like him after all, even if he rarely showed it. So when it was time to go home, he told Tsukasa to go home without him while he checked up on you. Tsukasa just smiled and nodded, not even asking if he could join him. Amane walked up to your house and opened the gate, walking in without forgetting to close it again. With three long strides to the front door, he knocked on the door loudly. 

...No one came to the door. 

He was expecting this. At least kind of. Your parents worked a lot and would leave you to your own devices. If you didn’t come and get the door then…

Amane frowned. Now he knew that you definitely weren’t okay. It didn’t sit right with him to just leave you alone to suffer from your illness. He’d feel like a bad friend since he knew of your sickness and didn’t try to help you. He looked around and settled on lifting a gardening pot that was laid on the ground near the front door to see if anything was under it and was relieved to see that a spare key was hidden there. Using it, he opened the door and walked in. 

He felt a bit weird intruding into your house without notifying you first. It’s not as if he was breaking in, so why did it feel like it? Shaking the feeling off, he closed the door and took off his shoes peering through the main hallway of the house. “...Hello? [Y/n]?” Amane called out softly into the house. Silence echoed back and Amane’s eyes only narrowed in response. He left this bag slumped near the door of the house and slowly made his ascent to your room. The room was the nearest to him and was marked with your name etched into it to claim the room as yours. 

Slowly, he opened the door, and instantly saw the darkness that enveloped it. The only light he saw was the small, dim beams of sunlight that peeked through from the curtains and to your bed. From what he could see, he could see your normally energetic self curled into a small ball, almost motionless if it weren’t for the slow breaths that you took. You looked wrecked, your normally soft hair now wet with sweat and stuck onto your forehead. Your eyes were shut closed in pain it seemed and your laboured breaths sounded wheezy and sore. 

Amane frowned at this, the sight of you that sick made his heart writhe in pain. So with a quick smile, he set to work.

———-

Today had to be one of your worst days. 

When you woke up, you woke up sticky and sore at nearly five in the morning. Your eyes felt like they had been staring into the sun for at least a day which left you with the rest of your senses to fend for you, but one problem, the rest of your senses weren’t even working. Your sense of smell was almost null since your nose kept on being blocked and the feeling of sneezing never left. Anything you touched felt warm to you and made you want to creep away from it from how warm you already felt. Your hearing was affected by your sense of smell, leaving you partly deaf as well. 

Your mother had scolded you, saying how it was silly what you had done the day before. And through the whole lecture, your head and everything else got worse so you couldn’t concentrate on what she was saying. In the end, she had left you alone in the house to go to work since it was too late to ask to be off today. Your dad was on a business trip that day and wouldn’t be home until late that week, so now you had no one to help you. But that was alright because all you wanted to do was to sleep.

When you opened your eyes for the first time since that morning, the first thing you comprehended was a wet and cold sensation on the top of your forehead. The next thing you noticed was a quiet hum of a song beside you. It sounded like a lullaby, coaxing you to sleep once more. It had made you smile, and before you knew it, you opened your eyes. The stinging hadn’t left, but at least you didn’t feel like opening them was a chore. The ceiling of your room was blurry, colours swirling in and out of view before a face appeared along with a smile. “Am I...dead?” You blurted out which made the owner of the face laugh a bit, sounding relieved to hear your voice. Then, hands reached out to your forehead and took off the cold that caressed your face. You groaned at the lack of comfort that brought, but as soon as you did, the face brought the cold back but only this time it was even colder and slightly wetter. You sighed in relief, the rush of oxygen actually feeling nice. 

“No, you’re not dead,” the figure teased, and it was when you heard that familiar teasing and playful voice that you realised that the figure that was taking care of you was none other than Amane. Your eyes shot open as your mouth drew agape, panic and disbelief flooding your system when you realised that your best friend was the one taking care of you and not an angelic being from the clouds above. As soon as your head moved off the pillow, a rush of pain shot up your spine and into your head, making it apparent that you were also dehydrated. Amane, surprised at the sudden movement, slowly pushed you back down into the bed and placed the fallen wet cloth back on your forehead. 

“Why are you here? You should be at your house!” You whined pathetically, glaring at him with as much annoyance as you could muster in that time. But seeing Amane’s worried lopsided smile made you sigh and look away, letting Amane continue with what he was doing. 

The look made it very obvious to you that he wasn’t going anywhere. At least, not in a long time. He was the type of person that didn’t have a lot of friends and the friends that he did have he cherished like gold. Pushing him away would be futile and you knew it even if you were only a young teenager. But knowing that Amane too was a young teenager looking after you didn’t sit well with you either, so you opened your mouth to- “Don’t try, you’re too sick to move,” you turned back to Amane with a dumbfounded look. What? How did he know? With a smile he giggled at your confused expression “I live with a brother who gets sick like this sometimes. I’m used to it so don’t worry,” you pouted at that. It didn’t make you feel any less bad, but since he knew what he was doing put you at ease, you were at least a bit more compliant. 

Amane babied you, helping you to sit up so you could read books on your shelf or just to keep you company. He brought you some soup your mother had quickly made for you and spoon-fed you despite your flustered attempts to make him stop. This only made him tease you more as he pretended it was an aeroplane like you would do for a toddler. Soon, the afternoon turned to evening, and Amane watched as your slightly more energetic self turned more and more tired until opening your eyes seemed like a chore. He had deemed it late enough and coaxed you into lying down, tucking you into bed. After keeping you company and also looking after you for the day he realised he too was tired. Now he just wanted to sleep. 

“Goodbye [Y/n],” he said softly, seeing the way your eyes barely stayed open. You were fighting sleep, and for someone as sick as you, sleep would be very important for you “Get well soon, I’ll check up on you tomorrow,” he turned to leave, but before he could, you had grasped his hand to make him stay. 

“It’s too late now, isn’t it? Don’t go now. I’ll feel worried for you,”

Amane looked out the window and noticed that it indeed was late. The street lamps were on, headlights of cars zoomed past leaving streaks of white in their wake and the sound of the crickets had finally made its way to his ears. Looking back to you, he saw the way that you were sitting up a bit since you reached out to grab his hand. Your eyes were pleading, of course, something you would muster to make Amane stay since he couldn’t say no to any puppy eyes, especially yours or Tsukasa’s. The reasonable answer was to stay with you since at night it was much more dangerous. So as Amane weighed his options, he let out a sigh and nodded, slipping under the covers with you. In your tired state, you had wrapped your arms around him, burying your face into his shoulder. Amane was almost sure that with this close proximity that he was going to get sick as well, but for him it was worth it since he was able to hug you for a night.

“Mmm love you Amane,”

Amane felt his cheeks light up. Was that an accident? It must be. Maybe you just meant it platonically. Why was he even thinking about that? Of course, you meant it platonically. Was he getting sick already? Yeah, that had to be it. Smiling he closed his eyes, already feeling more tired than he was a second ago. 

“...love you too,”

Amane was definitely sick. But his sickness was an entirely different sickness than the one that you had.