#her expression is so so good - thoughtful. sombre

[presiding]

"Even as a kid, there was a quiet curiosity there, though curiosity is not quite the right word." -Daud's journal, of Billie.

billie by @lapinneok, commissioned for the contract

[undiscovered-horizon]

Who am I to complain? - Nikolai Lantsov x Reader

[emotional and verbal abuse, unhealthy parent-child relationships]

SUMMARY: When your parents come to visit, Nikolai finally understands why you've never been keen to talk about them. Being the King and your husband, he isn't afraid to defy them.

WORDCOUNT: ~ 4.5k

>>Grishaverse-inspired playlist<<

"Have you listened to anything I've just said?"

Nikolai shakes you awake from being lost in thought. You look away from the insanely interesting skirting board you had been staring at for the past ten minutes. He’s watching you with raised eyebrows, awaiting an answer.

"I…” you hang your voice. At first, you wanted to just apologize and ask him to repeat himself but then a sense of dread sprouts in your abdomen - one you can’t quite put a finger on but it takes over your entire mind. “I'm sorry, Kolya. Please, don’t be mad at me, I’m sorry,” you plead, gradually speaking faster.

“I’m not angry,” he states firmly. “But I am growing concerned for you, love. What’s going on?”

“I just keep thinking about my parents' visit,” you confess while rubbing your forehead. “Ever since the letter arrived, I can hardly think about anything else."

"Yes, I've noticed you have been a bit absent for the past few days. I assumed you were going to talk to me when you're ready. Are you?"

"They're not bad people," you begin in a strange tone that makes Nikolai doubt your words right away, "and they've only done their best to give me a good life. Despite that, they have a tendency to bring out the parts of me I've grown to dislike." 

“Isn’t that what every family does?” he jokes in hopes of easing your visible discomfort. But his good humour is gone the moment you look away with a sombre expression stuck to your features.

Nikolai always considered himself exceptional at self-control but something about your sadness makes him gradually abandon reason. As you forlornly stare into the darkness of your shared bedroom, he’s ready to stick feathers to his clothes and pretend to be a peacock just to make you laugh.

“Love,” he calls out softly. His hand rests between your shoulder blades. “You’re the queen. If you want, we can call their visit off right away.”

“That would be a little rude, no?” you ask in a meek voice.

“It’s a lot more crude to make you cry.”

“I will be alright, really,” you reassure him. That miserable look on your face is slowly creeping away. “It’s just three days. Maybe they’ve changed or they’re a lot better than I remember. I’ll be okay.”

Nikolai is unsure whether you’re trying to convince yourself or him but he doesn’t push. Despite not believing your clumsy words of reassurance, he trusts you - he’ll step in only when things really get out of hand.

Nervousness and excitement often feel the same and one might even fool themselves into believing that the mortifying tension in their muscles is actually an impatient thrill. Today, however, you don’t even try playing a little trick on yourself. The more you think about your feelings, the more you’re convinced that it’s not even nervousness but fear. Still, you don’t quite understand why exactly your parents’ visit elicits such awful emotions from you.

The door to the throne room opens and a man in a white and gold livery steps inside. He quickly walks halfway to the dais with the throne. 

The servant bows as deep as he can and clears his throat before loudly announcing: “Presenting her most royal Highness’s, the Queen’s, mother and father.”

Only then do your parents emerge from the hall, walking hesitantly through the spacious throne room. Two guards are following them and your father spares them a confused glance every few steps. But the armed men only usher him to keep walking and not turn his back to the king until allowed to do so.

Feeling fear exploding in your chest, you grip Nikolai’s shoulder even tighter. Sitting on the throne, he has to look up to meet your eyes.

“Calm down, it’s going to be alright,” he says quietly. A reassuring smile curves his lips. “You said it yourself.”

As though he is a Heartrender himself, his words make you relax. You take a deep breath and let go of his shoulder. At that moment, Nikolai stands up to greet your parents as their son-in-law first and only then the king of Ravka.

Right then, your mother quickly runs up the few steps leading to the dais. Her face is red and a deep crease now separates her eyebrows.

“I have to wait to be announced to see my own daughter?” She’s barely containing her outrage. “Nonsense!”

“I’m royalty now, mother,” you explain calmly. Your voice almost doesn’t shake.

“And I’m still your mother, the one that gave birth to you. Do I not get any benefits from that?”

Maybe some people don’t actually change.

“I’m afraid you don’t.”

“Is this gold?!” your father exclaims in shock as his hand reaches for your heavy necklace. “So because of you most of Ravka is starving?”

Too occupied with the jewellery, your parents don’t notice the palace guards stepping forward to arrest them for such an accusation aimed at the queen. Nikolai spares them a meaningful look, waving them off. In his heart, he agrees with them.

“Actually, this is a gift from a businessman in Kerch,” you say quietly. Suddenly, you remember why you’ve never visited them since your wedding.

“Still, don’t you think this is a little distasteful?”

Your mother places her hand on your father’s shoulder. “She’s always been vain, darling,” she reminds him.

You’re not a queen anymore - at least you don’t feel like it. All of the gold, silk and jewels are gone and you’re back to being a scared, little girl with hay stuck in her hair. Tears sting your eyes.

Whatever you do is wrong. All of your efforts are underwhelming. Maybe they’d be happier if you weren’t there.

"You're crying?” your father asks with a hint of disgust in his voice. “Oh, don't be so sensitive, you know we’re only joking!” He’s still holding your necklace in his fingers, admiring the glistening crystals. Standing so close to you, he lowers his voice significantly to appear inconspicuous but Nikolai manages to pick up his calloused words. “Pull yourself together, this is embarrassing.”

As she usually does, your mother brings the attention back to herself. “She can be a bit much at times, so I hope you’re a patient one!”

The guards exchange questioning looks, silently asking one another if they should intervene this time. Most of the time they follow Tolya and Tamar’s steps but they’re left to their own devices on this day as Nikolai ordered the twins to take a day off. Perhaps it’s for the best - they’d surely escalate this already uncomfortable situation but it’s only because they care.

“I’d say it’s quite the opposite,” Nikolai answers, unaffected. Despite his speaking to your mother, he’s looking into your eyes. “I can never get enough of her.”

“For most of her life, I thought she’d never get married!” your mother continues. She’s gripping your arm with much more strength than her appearance suggests. “Men don’t like them independent, stubborn and opinionated.”

Nikolai’s polite smile doesn’t falter. “Three qualities of an excellent Queen.”

Your mother laughs obnoxiously. “Just wait a few years, dear.” She pats his shoulder. The guards look between themselves again. “You’ll be quick to send her off just like we were!”

Both of your parents laugh wholeheartedly while you and Nikolai exchange knowing looks. Now he understands why you have been so uneasy lately. This is going to be the longest three days of his life.

The perplexity continues as your mother suddenly places her hands around your waist, examining your torso in great detail. A sour expression forms on her face.

“Oh, honey, you’ve let yourself go,” she says in a worried tone. Her eyes trail the curve of your physique up until she looks at your face. With a serious glint in her eye, she advises you under her breath: “You can’t get fat and slobby if you want to keep the king.” 

The man who announced your parents appears again but this time he walks all the way to the stairs leading up to the throne, although doesn’t dare climb them. His facial expression borders on emotionless and serious as though he’s more of a marble statue rather than a servant.

“Your most royal Highness.” The man bows deeply. “The room is prepared.”

“Excellent.” Nikolai uses the opportunity to cut the awkward conversation short in a diplomatic way. “Escort our guests to their chamber.” 

“Right away, мой царь.”

When the butler disappears around the corner with your parents apprehensively following him, Nikolai looks at you with a grim expression. 

“Are they usually like this?” he asks, disapproval hiding between his words.

“They’re worse at home,” you answer with a shrug. A lot of terrible feelings and thoughts you were convinced you had left behind are coming back and you’re unsure how to handle that.

“You’ve put up with this kind of disrespect for your whole life?”

“It’s not disrespect, just…” you hang your voice looking for the right expression, “tough love. They don’t mean any harm.”

“Don’t mean any harm?” he repeats in disbelief. “They’ve been here for fifteen minutes and they are yet to say something nice to you. Neither of them even asked whether you’re doing alright.”

A short, troubled sigh leaves your lips. Your fingers trail the golden embroidery decorating his kaftan. “I’m married to a dashing, handsome king and live in a palace. I think they know I’m doing well.”

His hand gently grabs yours, keeping it against his chest. “As much I like flattery, especially coming from you, you can’t pull wool over my eyes, love. It’s not a matter of knowing but principle. Remember our wedding? The guests kept asking how you’re doing so much, you kept saying you’re perfectly fine before they even got a chance to ask.”

The memory elicits a chuckle from you. Yes, everyone seemed to be preoccupied with making sure you were happy and satisfied. It came to such a point, you yelled at Nikolai’s cousin ‘Yes, I’m fine!’ before she gave you a weird look and asked if you wanted some vodka mixed with your champagne. Truly, the only royal thing about Marina is her ungodly fortune but maybe that’s why you’ve grown to like her a lot - she’s down to earth and easy-going.

Nikolai squeezes your hand in a gentle, reassuring manner. “Just say the word and I will personally throw them out.”

“Kolya!” You gasp at his offer but it quickly turns into laughter. “They’re my parents and your in-laws!”

“They also refuse to show care and respect towards my beloved Queen.”

That mellow, loving look in his eyes nullifies any annoyance you might feel at his stubbornness. You pull your hand out of his grasp and place it on the side of his face. Consciously or not, he slightly leans into your touch. “I appreciate your concern.” Not minding the guards in the room, you’ve grown used to their constant presence, you peck his lips shortly. “But they have just arrived. You’ll warm up to them.”

Nikolai doesn’t answer at first. He only reconnects your lips, kissing you deeper, more desperately. When you feel his hands coming up to your waist, you lean away from him. For a moment, you swear you can see a grimace of dissatisfaction on his face.

“Be decent,” you reprimand him but the wide smile you wear so well rids your words of all seriousness.

“You started this.”

“And I will finish if you play nice.”

Nikolai takes a rather long step back, away from you,  just to make a point. He’s standing with his hands behind his back, an excited grin on his face. “You make an exquisite diplomat, you know that?”

“I learned from the best.”

The time for dinner came faster than you wanted it to. Anxiety bubbled inside your chest again. Still, you continued trying to soap up your eyes with thoughts that maybe when they sit across the table from a king, they’re going to withdraw their little jabs at you. As they say: Hope is the mother of all fools. And you’re about to learn that.

Nikolai raises his cup with wine. “A toast to our beloved Queen,” he announces in an official tone. Out of the corner of his eye, he spares you an adoring look. “Without her, I’d be a lonely, perplexed king. May we not know the world without her.”

To your horror, your father decides to join him. “May she get a grip and come to her senses.”

The dry wine tastes even more bitter as you take what’s supposed to be a celebratory sip. What if he’s right about you? It’s only the beginning of the evening and you already wish you can miraculously vanish or, worst case scenario, just run away. 

You’re about to take a bite of the roasted pheasant on your plate when your mother looks at you with raised eyebrows. She points her fork between you and the plate. “Should you really be eating all of this?” 

You don’t answer her. Whatever you say will only egg her on. Get a grip, you scold yourself and clench your fist to push fingernails into the sensitive skin of your palm. The pain is distracting, grounding.

 "You know, sweetheart, you're not getting any younger,” your mother continues. She always does that - throwing poignancies one after another and seeing what sticks. Now, when she’s literally the mother of the queen, she’s even bolder than before.

“Mother-”

“Don’t interrupt me.” She points her knife at you. “All I’m saying is as a wife, especially the queen, you have only one duty and you shouldn’t wait with it. Things will only get more difficult as you age.”

Nikolai gives your mother a bright smile. “Have no worries,” he cuts in. “We’re not waiting.”

You almost drop your fork. Flustering people is definitely one of his strategies but must he really involve your sex life in his word games? Although mortified at his bluntness, you must admit it works - your mother’s face is about the same shade as the roasted tomatoes on her plate. She casts her eyes downwards, poking at the food in front of her.

The air is filled with awkward tension but Nikolai doesn’t seem to mind in. In fact, he looks quite proud of himself. You, on the other hand, aren’t as good at putting up a believable front.

“So,” you begin in hopes of easing the atmosphere”, how are things back in…” You hang your voice. You were about to say ‘home’, only to realize that it would be an honest lie. The little town where you grew up hasn’t been home in years. “...Tamboyevka?”

“Oh, you know,” your mother says as she makes a dismissive wave with her hand. “Same old, same old. Cattle and field, nothing interesting to someone of your sort, I presume! There’s never been much use of you anyway.”

Listening to your mother’s condescending words, you push your fingernails further into the skin of your hand to distract yourself from the feeling of shame that continues to grow inside your stomach and pull you down with it. Maybe the marble floor will swallow you whole in the next few minutes and all of this will be over.

Then you feel Nikolai’s warm hand sneak between your palms, breaking up your painful distraction. He leans towards you ever so slightly and whispers:

“I’d much rather you pinch and scratch my hand than hurt yourself.”

You look at his concerned face. Words of reassurance, ‘Don’t worry, I’m alright’, nearly push past your lips when your father chimes in, continuing the conversation.

“But your brother, he bought some land down south,” he announces with excitement.

“More land?” you ask. “Ha barely manages with what he already has.”

The memory of your brother’s tired, grey face flashes before your eyes. Every time you see him, he looks even sicker than before as though he never sleeps or eats, only works in the field. He even collapsed on one July day and your parents kept saying that this is a sign of an honest, hard-working man but you weren’t as quick to call a man throwing up everything he eats ‘healthy’.

“You know how he is, always helping others.” Your mother is beaming with pride as if she’s the one doing the farming. “His crops feed two villages and it’s not nearly enough for him! Said he wanted tomatoes and citruses.”

Then it hits you. It’s not a revelation in any way but rather something you don’t think about too often - most of Ravka doesn’t get fruits in winter, especially the ones growing in warmer climates near the Shu Han border. And you not only can easily get it even when snow covers the grassy fields but you’re essentially fed it. Like that one time, you shared a tangerine with Nikolai while sitting in front of a fire, talking about unimportant things.

Despite your mother sitting right in front of you, her voice echoed in your head as though she’s a phantom haunting your thoughts and not a real person: Selfish. Spoiled. Entitled. Ungrateful. People starve because of you.

You focus on Nikolai’s warm, rough hand that’s still holding your own. The pleasant sensation is gradually grounding you, pulling you out of your head and into the present moment.

“What for?” you ask as casually as you can, not giving in to the spiralling thoughts. It still feels like you’re underwater, desperately gasping for air as your lungs burn. Squeezing Nikolai’s hand, you break the surface of the vicious tides trying to drown you in panic and shame.

Your mother, on the other hand, appears completely oblivious to your plight. “Some child told him they’d like oranges and he couldn’t say no. He’s wonderful, truly. A living Saint! What a blessing to call him my son. You should take a serious cue from him, young lady.” She waves the tip of her knife in your direction again. “But enough about your brother. What do you do when you’re not wasting time? Lay around and smell nice?”

“Well,” you swallow nervously, already knowing that she won’t be satisfied with your answer, “I meet a lot of people, take correspondence, travel across the country or read if I find the time.”

Nikolai must notice the telling crease of disappointment between your mother’s eyebrows. He joins the conversation under a skilful facade of a proud, boasting husband. “Don’t sell yourself short, love. Our Queen,” he puts strange stress on the title, “has started a scholarship for disadvantaged children, takes the time to teach young girls sewing, foreign languages and arithmetic.”

“That’s quite useless, isn’t it?” your mother looks between you and your father, not acknowledging Nikolai’s presence. She keeps stabbing the roasted pheasant on her plate with a fork as though there’s still life inside the poor poultry. “Shouldn’t you try harder?” she hisses at you. “If you continue being this lazy, the whole kingdom will fall apart! What will our neighbours say then?”

Nikolai suddenly gets up. He’s still holding your hand but you can’t be sure whether he’s doing that on purpose or if it’s just an unconscious reflex. The candlelight from the crystal chandelier cascades off his face, pronouncing the clenched muscles of his jaw - he’s angry and barely holding it in.

“Our meeting at this table is adjourned,” he announces in a firm voice. “This is beyond unacceptable. I have overlooked your transgressions simply because of your affinity to my wife. Still, I am disheartened and disappointed with the way you address your queen in her own home. The guards will escort you back to your chambers.”

You hear your mother and father trying to argue and protest, saying something about you being ‘too proud’ and ‘forgetting your place’ but you’re so dumbfounded you can’t make out the details. The guards lead them out of the dining room through one of the tall pairs of doors. When they close behind them, everything goes silent - the brick walls muffle any turmoil your parents might be causing.

Suddenly, your throat constricts. It’s hard to take a breath. Has it always been so hot in here? The tips of your fingers tingle, blood never reaching them.

He threw them out and you didn’t say anything. If they didn’t hate you before, they surely do now. You’re a disappointment, not their child. They haven’t done anything wrong, after all. You’re no good, useless, ungrateful, dramatic.

Suffocating with panic, you run out of the room through a different pair of doors, across the dining hall from the ones behind which your parents had recently disappeared. You hear Nikolai’s footsteps behind you but they are muffled by the noise of bloodflow ringing in your ears.

“Hey, talk to me,” he calls out in a soft voice. You turn around to look at him. His hand is almost at the height of your shoulder but it momentarily drops as though he just backed out from touching you. “What’s going on?”

For a man as smart as him, that’s a really stupid question.

“Why did you do that, Nikolai?” you snap at him.

His eyebrows furrow slightly. A gasp of disbelief brushes past his lips - he clearly thought the two of you were on the same page. “They were insulting you over and over again. I couldn’t just sit and listen to that.”

Truly, you should have expected that. He’s been adamant about standing up to your parents from the very beginning. Still, you’re angry that he just had to be stubborn and do the one thing you explicitly asked him not to do.

“What happened to laugh at insults? Isn’t that your own advice?”

“It is.” Nikolai finally finds it in himself to place his hands on your shoulders. “But I found myself unable to remain collected when the bitter words were aimed at you.” His palms brush against your dress and the skin of your neck until they’re cradling your face.

“I can,” you state firmly. “You should have let me handle this, I’m used to this.”

You escape his loving grasp and he lets you. Walking forward away from him, you’re not quite sure where exactly you’re heading. ‘Away’ would be a lovely direction but quite impossible when you’re confined to those four walls of marble and gold.

“You shouldn’t be,” Nikolai calls out after you.

Suddenly, you halt. You look at him around your shoulder. “What?”

“You shouldn’t be used to being treated like this,” he says in a defeated tone while walking towards you again. “They just keep putting you down, humiliating you. You’re not even slightly upset about that?”

“Of course, I am but…” you hang your voice, finally questioning your own feelings towards your parents. “It’s unfair for me to be angry with them. Ungrateful. I never went hungry or cold. They gave me medication when I was sick and made sure I went to school. Every year they’d give me something for my birthday. Neither of them has ever raised their hand against me. They’ve done all they could to give me a good life. Who am I to complain?”

“You’re the Queen,” he drones the word. His hand holds the side of your face again, thumb lovingly brushing your cheek. “People say your name in the same breath as the names of all the Saints. When I don’t know what to do or what decision to make, I always ask myself what you would do. And I’ve never once regretted that. There are important people who have agreed to my invitation only after hearing that you’ll be there too. You change everything. So you get to be angry when someone refuses to see that. I know you can take a few mean words but I don’t want you to.”

For a moment, the two of you stand in comfortable, intimate silence. Your absent gaze is stuck to the floor as you’re pondering his words. Whenever you’re about to accept that maybe, just maybe, you’re doing something good and important, the voice of your mother echoes inside your head: ‘Vain’. But Nikolai wouldn’t lie to you, would he? At least not in those circumstances.

“Can you keep a secret?” he speaks up quietly, bringing your attention back to him.

“Don’t tell me you put a wild racoon in my parent’s bedroom,” you joke, surprising yourself at your newly-found humour.

He scrunches his nose. “Alright, can you keep two secrets?” The echo of the empty halls carries your bright laughter. “To be honest, I wanted to marry you the moment you argued with me about stealing that merchant frigate in Kerch.”

“I could tell,” you answer with a slow nod. “You had a really stupid look on your face, all dazed and absent. In fact, you wore the same one on our wedding day.”

Nikolai’s lips turn into a playful smile and he’s about to say something definitely smart and smooth but a servant interrupts him:

“Your most royal highness,” she says nervously as she curtsies, “your mother wishes to see you. She seems thoroughly upset, if I may say so.” Judging by her fearful, wide-open eyes, she must have gotten a taste of your parents' hurt ego.

Anxiety once again floods your mind. Maybe you should go, apologize and pray they won’t go on a tirade about ‘raising you differently’. But then you hear Nikolai inconspicuously but meaningfully clear his throat.

‘You’re the queen’, his voice echoes in your head. A queen doesn’t cower and bow her head, does she?

“Tell her I don’t take visitations tonight,” you order the servant.

“Right away, моя царица.” She can’t hide the waver in her voice. Judging by her already fearful demeanour, she can guess quite well what will happen the moment she relays the information.

Yes, you will have to warn your parents that they actually can’t hurl insults at your servants. It’s going to be challenging, yes, but this newfound confidence is a ferocious beast, driving you to own up to the title of the queen - not in the way your mother and father want you to but in a way that you need to.

“Oh, one more thing.” The girl immediately stops and turns around at the sound of your voice. “Make sure they don’t leave their wing until either of us says so. I don’t want them wandering around my home.”

“Of course, my Queen.”

The servant bows again and leaves the two of you in a rushed step. Nikolai waits until she disappears around the corner to let his hand drop to the small of your back. He leans in close, indecently so. “I love it when you get all commanding,” he whispers against your neck.

An airy laugh leaves your lips as he pecks the soft skin behind your ear.

____

мой царь [mo-ee tzar] -> my tsar/king

моя царица [mo-ya tsa-ree-tsa] -> my tsaritsa/queen

[itsohh]

The True Ghost

AN: I kept editing this one and I feel like the vibes are a little over the place.

Summary: After getting shot in the head you find yourself not in the land of the dead but stuck in the land of the living without a real form. Unable to interact with anyone, your forced to watch your lovers suffer with your loss.

Word count: 2156

Warnings: MW3 spoilers, angst, canon typical violence, hurt no / little comfort

Masterlist AO3

The twist of your arm, the furious look on Makarov’s face. The shouts that echoed around you, then… nothing. 

You opened your eyes. 

When you sat up you did so with extreme ease, the weight of your body was non-existent. Perhaps that's what it was like on the moon. It was like being submerged underwater but with no force of any tide. 

You looked up from your sitting stare to see your entire team staring at you. “Got something on my face?” You joked but they didn't reply. When had Gaz and Ghost arrived? 

Soap collapsed onto his knees with a choke. He reached towards you but as his fingers were to come into contact with your skin, they phased right through. The warmth of his hand spread through you and you looked down to see what he had truly reached for. 

He had reached for you. More specifically your body. You scrambled to your feet to get a good look. Blood pooled under your head as a lifeless look was frozen on your face. 

“Shit.” You covered your mouth and looked at your team. “Shit!” You were dead? “Shit! Shit! Shit!” Your eyes went to Ghosts and his eyes closed for a second before he placed his hand on Johnny's shoulder, a sombre look in his eyes. 

Price couldn't tear his eyes from you as he radioed in. The call of KIA which confirmed your death. Your hand threaded through your hair and took a few steps away. If you were dead then why were you still there? A fucking ghost. It should have been somewhat ironic but you couldn't bring yourself to laugh. By the obvious lack of other ghosts around, it seemed you were a special case. Was it because you hadn't killed Makarov? Was that your unfinished business? 

The thoughts raced through your mind as you glanced over to see Soap lean over your body and press a kiss against your forehead. His hand shook while he held yours. As you stared at him you realised that his entire body was shaking

“I've got her Johnny.” Ghost's voice was broken, empty and Soap turned to look up at the man. Tears swelled in Soap's eyes and Ghost crouched down next to him. Ghost gently pried Soap's hand from yours and brushed your eyes close. 

If it hadn't been from the hole in your head you could have looked like you were asleep. “I've got her.” Ghost squeezed Soap's hand and the man nodded in return. It took all his strength but he backed away from you and Ghost went to pick up your corpse. 

You didn't know if it was comforting or not that they weren't leaving your body there. It was strange, you were so disconnected from it but at the same time, it was still your body. It was like a childhood home you no longer owned. 

“It should have been me.” Soap muttered as they started to walk and Ghost froze for a second. 

“Don't do that Johnny. Don't do that to her.” 

Soap glanced at Ghost's hardened expression and went silent. 

-

The car ride back was that same prolonged silence. You had sat in your designated spot, at least you had that going for you. With the whole ‘everything passes through you’ situation, you were just glad you didn't have to walk back. 

You watched as Soap entered his room. Not yours, not Ghosts, but his own dorm room. It was a place Soap rarely visited anymore. Ghost’s room had been a sanctuary for all three of you. 

He ripped his gear from his body, his hands shook and he threw it all to the ground. Tears now flowed in free fall and he staggered over to his bathroom where he flicked on the the shower. Soap stepped in immediately, not caring about the cold water. He desperately started to scrub at the skin on his hand even though there wasn't a speck of blood. 

You sat down in the corner and closed your eyes as his sobs started to echo in the room. He swore your name and choked on his tears. 

Eventually, the water turned off and he came out. His eyes were red and puffy while his muscles were dense. Soap's skin was red and raw from scrubbing it too much. He went over to the sink and leaned on his two palms. 

You got up from the floor and went behind him. So desperately did you want to confront him, to hug him, to tell him it was okay. It was an act in vain but you placed a hand on his shoulder. Warm but tense you looked forward and paused at the sight. 

Perhaps it was because you could see yourself but the reflection showed the pair of you. Honestly, you looked terrible. A picture image of the moment you died. Wet blood eternally stuck to the side of your head as your eyes lacked a certain warmth to them. 

A sudden smash came as Soap's fist collided with the mirror right where your reflection was. A fractured spider web formed and a stain of his blood tainted the centre of it. 

You flinched at the moment and covered your gasp with your hand. A choked sound still escaped, not that anyone could hear. You reached on to him as leaned on the sink. 

“Should have bloody fucking let me die.” He growled. “Should have saved herself but she had to play hero. Never seen her do something so stupid-” Soap slammed his bloodied fist down without a care for the pain that it would obviously inflict. 

Would he be the same mess if your position with Simon was flipped?  

His choked sobs came but you didn't attempt to vainly comfort him again. Perhaps Ghost could help- perhaps if you could somehow communicate a way to get your lovers to join hands…

You left Johnny's bathroom and went towards his bedroom door. 

You put your hand on his locked door handle to open it but once again it went right through. Brows furrowed you tried again but this time with a lot more concentration. 

Your eyes widened when it jiggled a bit but the stiff lock was just a little bit too much. With a sigh of frustration, you went to slam your fist on the door but ended up going right through it. With a stumble, you fell forward across the hall into your own room. 

Surprise crossed your face to see Ghost there. His mask off. His eyes were closed and he took deep breaths as if he were meditating. You couldn't help but wonder how long he was there. 

“I'm sorry.” He eventually said, his eyes cast at the ground. “We weren't fast enough and you paid the price.” He let out a deep breath. “I should have known that you would eventually go. But for a moment, I could play pretend.” 

You sat down on the bed next to him. He couldn't see you, he couldn't hear you but you hoped somehow that he knew that you were with him. 

-

Days went past and you saw two events. The official funeral that was done for all operators, a big fancy honourable thing that felt more political than anything. Then there was when they spread your ashes, a more quiet event where they flew to your homeland and did so.

You preferred that one. 

It got a bit boring if you were honest. Most of the time you just walked with anyone who was at base. Normally Ghost or Soap but sometimes it was Gaz or Price. On the odd occasion, it was Kate. You missed Farah and Nik. 

Ghost seemed to spend a lot of time in your room. Soap didn't. Their relationship had certainly suffered because of it. 

s

One night as you watched Ghost leave your room, you heard it. A small buzz. You went over to the nightstand to see your phone exactly how you had left it. It was on charge on the side table. You went to pick it up and surprisingly, it obeyed your command. 

With wide eyes, you slid your finger against the screen and it unlocked. A sound of glee left your lips as you tapped away on it. “My sweet baby boy, you recognise me.” You grinned at the phone. 

Consequences be damned, you hit Soap's name and opened your messenger.

I love you

You sent it without hesitation and as you started to type to Ghost you heard the shout. It was Soap's voice. Uh-oh. You placed the phone down and left your room to see Soap at Ghost's door. His first was raised and banged against the door while his phone was clutched in the other. 

The door eventually swung open and you saw Ghost there peer above Soap. 

“Johnny.”

“What the hell is this huh? Trying to fuck with me with her phone?”

“I don't know what you're talking about.” 

“Oh cut the bullshite, I know you spend half of your time in her room.” He waved the phone in Ghost's face and grabbed his collar. 

Ghost's brows narrowed. “I know you’re hurting Johnny-”

“Oh that's rich-”

Soap's voice was cut off by Price who had been woken up by the endeavour. 

“The hell is going on?” He barked and walked up to the two men. Price took the phone from Soap and looked at the message. A sigh left Price’s mouth.

“It's probably just a scheduled text message Soap. You know what she was like, always one to think ahead. Probably did it because she knew you well enough to know that you would refuse to watch her recorded messages.”

Soap let go of Ghost's collar and looked down. 

“She loved you, the both of you. She wouldn't want you to fight. I know you're both in pain but you're better off working together not against each other.” He clasped a hand on Soap's shoulder. “If you really hate it that much you could go disable it in her phone. It's probably where she last left it.”

“Passwords 2019.” Ghost finally spoke up. It had been a running thing that you never told Soap your phone password. Something to tease him about. Soap threaded his hand through his hair and nodded. 

“I'll…I'll go check out her phone.” His voice was quiet and then it dawned on you. 

As much as you wanted them to stop fighting, you didn’t want them to take your phone.

You turned on your heel and dashed through your bedroom door. With a snatch of your hand, you took it off the charger and went to put it in your pocket but then paused. It fell to the floor. It seems your pockets didn't work. With a roll of your eyes, you picked it off the floor, climbed onto your bedside table and turned it to silent. You balanced on the table and slid it on top of your dresser. It was tall enough that not even Ghost would be able to see on top of it

Last second you lost your balance and let out a cry as you fell onto to hover awkwardly above the ground. “Guess ghosts can fly after all.” You muttered.

Slowly you lowered your feet onto the ground just in time for Soap to walk into your room. It was the first time since you died. He went to your nightstand only to find it gone. A frown formed on his face and then he went towards your desk. 

He let out a sound of frustration but it was Ghost's voice that filled the air. 

“Can't find it?” 

“Did you take it?” Soap asked

“No. I'll call it for you.” Ghost brought out his phone and started to call your number. Yet it didn't make a sound. Soap stood up and started to walk to the bathroom to look for it. You followed him as he searched under the sink and when he stood up, his eyes made contact with yours in the mirror. 

He didn't say a word. Soap looked away and rejoined Ghost. Just in time to hear your voice through your phone. 

“I'm unable to come to come to the phone right now. Don't leave a message and please send me a text. Thanks!” 

“She probably hid it somewhere.” Soap’s eyes shut. “It's fine. I don't want to be in here.” He pushed past Ghost and left the room.

Pain swelled in your chest. You didn't want to hurt him- either of them. But your phone was all you had. Ghost glanced to the rest of the room and left. The door clicked behind him. 

Slowly you went for your phone again and unlocked it. It was still open on Ghost’s contact. 

You finally hit send. 

A moment later you surprisingly received a reply. 

I love you too.

I miss you

Rest well

[booksndpoetry]

Chapter One: Meet-Cute

a/n: This was not the fic I was hoping to publish and I don't know what this is (it's a mess). I might make more if you encourage me.

wc: 2.4k words

pairing: art mogul! Hyunjin X writer! Reader

tags: friends to ??, reconciliation, use of cheesy epithets, me trying to write slow burn.

genre: a pinch of angst, fluff

triggers/warnings: Whatever this is, it is not good. Read at your own risk.

m.list

Ten.

No, not Ten from NCT.

Just ten more minutes until you could excuse yourself for the evening and it wouldn’t seem suspicious.

You take in deep breaths and try not to make eye contact with anyone lest they try to make conversation with you. You were deliberately dressed discreetly for the same purpose too. Baggy jeans, vulcanized sneakers, a white shirt with a logo you’ve never bothered to investigate, and a pin on your braided hair. You were sure you looked like you didn’t belong, and you felt it too.

Being a bestselling author has its perks, your editor had told you, her voice tinged with something like awe when your book sales had skyrocketed. You thought it meant that more people would leave you alone to write. Though, to your dismay, it meant events held at ridiculously expensive hotels, with overpriced champagne and people at every corner trying to please you so they got a favour out of you.

It should be pretty obvious in your behaviour that you hate these events. You weren’t even a good actor. Although, knowing your agent, she probably set you up to meet your next best sponsor or another journalist who would try to get an interview with you.

The more you thought, the more you tensed up. Checking your watch for the umpteenth time that evening, you let out a ragged breath. Eight more minutes until your freedom.

Or maybe not, you think when you see Frank, the editor-in-chief for [famous magazine name] making his way towards you. Frank was known to be relentless with his requests and you were cemented about the fact with your experience in his studio.

“Hello Miss, how’ve you been doing since I last saw you?”

You hold your hands behind your back, not fooled by his polite façade.

“Good. How about you Mr. Frank?”

“Good, good.” He nods his head, more to himself than you. “Great weather today, innit?”

The sky was pretty magnificent today. The event was being held on one of the top floors of a famous hotel, and the large glass windows were set perfectly to watch the sky. The sky was a cerulean blue, with streaks of pink and orange, like the trails were smeared by the tiny fingers of a child, bold and [synonym for pretty] in their forms.

“Truly.”

He chuckles again, “Always a person of a few words, Miss ‘Name’. Although, can I hear them?” There it was, the unspoken request. He would once again wear you down trying to convince you to spare some time for an interview and a magazine shoot, and you would have to refuse again. You hated refusing, as much as you had to do it, and you didn’t like people who took no for an answer.

You simply take a step back, as if a physical distance would help you say the words easier.

“I’m afraid not, Mr. Frank. I have an impending project and I don’t want to distract myself. Maybe next time.” You offer him a weak smile, trying not to let your grimace show. You were bad at this.

He simply waves you off, expression more sombre than it had been seconds ago, and your heart drops. You had disappointed him. You seemed to be doing that a lot lately.

Unable to stand being there any longer, you rush past the faceless bodies, feeling the need to go away, to run away somewhere.

You go down the elevator and text your agent.

<<Attendance: done.

You silence the device and pocket it, finally reaching the lobby of the hotel. You swear not to stay in the damn hotel for any second longer, but the universe gives you another reason.

Luckily, it’s in the form of someone familiar. Unluckily, it belonged to your best friend you hadn’t seen in seven years.

Hwang Hyunjin.

You trip in the middle of the lobby.

Hyunjin hadn’t known what to expect that evening. He had been offered an invitation, just like any other month. He was unsure about whether he had to attend the event. After all, he had a business to run. But after one of his clients had finished the meeting early, some deal about an upcoming art exhibition place, he was having second thoughts. But some part of him had insisted on his attendance, as he’d heard that one of his favourite artists would be coming, and that’s how he found himself at the entrance of the skyscraper.

What he absolutely did not expect was to see you, standing right in front of him. Until you tripped, and he couldn’t help his laughter.

You quickly get up and pretend to inspect your shoes for any indication of dust. Damn five-star hotels and their extremely slippery granite floors. For what purpose were they made so smooth and shiny? For one to see their reflection when they faceplanted there?

Hyunjin’s still laughing lightly when he comes near you.

“You okay?” he asks, concerned. You hear his voice, and it is still the same smooth tone, albeit deeper. You missed that voice. But the way he speaks, polite yet guarded, you think that maybe he doesn’t recognize you.

“You haven’t changed one bit. Still tripping down flat surfaces, Miss Writer?”

And he proves your assumption wrong. You frown at how easily he can annoy you with just the sight of his stupid face, handsome or not.

Your lips straighten themselves into a thin line, and he remembers why he’d teased you countless times when you were younger. You were adorable when you attempted to look angry, like a tiger cub trying to sulk. He smiles, eyes taking you in again.

“You haven’t changed either. You laughed at me when I fell!”

That wasn’t true. He had changed, in more ways than one. Time had carved him beautifully, with elegant lines and soft beauty, evident on his face. And he was no longer Hyun, your best friend. He was Hwang Hyunjin, the rising art mogul, and founder of the famous ‘Hwang Designers.’ The man sought after by rich men and women alike.

The laugh he’d been subduing comes out in full force once again at the memory, and he clutches his jacket. For a moment, he’s your Hyunjin again.

You hit him on the shoulder, and he stops laughing.

“I haven’t seen you for seven years and this is how you greet me?”

He sobers up quickly. He knew he had to apologize, sooner or later. He decides to do it now.

“Ice cream?” he asks.

“Butter-scotch and Strawberry?”

“Yes. It’ll be just like old times.”

“Deal.”

When the both of you walk out the set of doors, you don’t look back at the gigantic building and to your surprise, neither does he.

The both of you stumble into his car, a spacious Audi, and he puts the car in reverse. It reminds you of the countless things you’ve missed. Like the first time he learnt how to drive. It saddens you a little, and he notices.

“The nearest dessert place is pretty far. You sure about this?” He wanted to make sure he wasn’t intruding on your schedule.

“I’m sure, Hyun. Now, let’s go.” You punctuate your statement with impatient slaps on the centre console. He chuckles, starting the car.

Once on the road, he thinks back on your words earlier. You had called him Hyun, after such a long time. He’d been called a lot of things, but he thought this epithet was something he wanted to keep being called. It’s a physical entity of your friendship, showing how it is still intact. And he feels like he’s sixteen again, sitting with you on your rooftop, as your shoulders brush. Like nothing has changed.

He drives past trucks and numerous cars, taking turns until the roads are empty.

You roll the windows down, and let the wind flow between your tresses.

The cool air feels heavenly against your burning skin. You close your eyes just as a strong gust of wind blows. You lean against the rails of the windows. It felt like freedom, like being alive at last.

Hyunjin watches you intently, eyes flickering between you and the road. It had been so long since he’d seen you, and he physically could not keep his eyes off you. He still remembers the mole above your left eye, the numerous dimples on your cheeks and the little bump on your nose bridge. He’s dreamt about it every day you’ve been apart, to be honest, but now was not the time.

Driving through empty highways at night was not how he envisioned his reunion with you, but there you were.

“Do you want to go somewhere in particular?” he asks you, voice soft, in that same tone he used to talk to you.

“Just keep driving, please” you swallow thickly. You didn’t want to return to your reality, not yet.

He nods once, then “Shall I take you somewhere? You’ll like it, I promise. Unless you don’t want to.”

You hesitate, then “Okay. I trust that you won’t get rid of me.”

He rolls his eyes, “Come on, ----- you should know me better than that. I would’ve done it already if I wanted to.”

You huff, “And here I thought you wouldn’t even dream of it.”

He just smirks and shifts the gear, speeding up.

“Slow down, I don’t want to die yet.”

He side-eyes you, “I’m not getting you killed, darling” He slows down anyway.

You feel yourself flushing because of that word. This was new. The Hyunjin you knew always called you silly names, but not this. This was different, mature. The tone of his voice was suddenly deeper.

No, no.

This was Hyunjin you were talking about.

He was your friend years ago, and you have yet to determine what he is to you. You will not be having such thoughts. Shaking your head, you lean back in your seat, when he stops the car. He’s brought you to the spot near the bridge, overlooking the river reflecting the city lights. You get out of the car and he leans against the hood with you, simply watching the scene before you.

It’s beautiful, the vast cityscape, stretching along the length of the river. The flashing lights dance over the waterbody like stars twinkling over the Milky Way. It feels so grandiose. But, you know that despite it looking so enigmatic, it is not so glamorous in reality. And the sudden weight of the expectations of others weighs down on you, all at once.

The distress must have shown on your face, because he stands in front of you, holding your face like he used to do when you were upset.

“Hey, what’s wrong?”

He’s wiping your face, and you realize you’ve been crying.

“Nothing.”

“You know you can tell me anything.”

“I thought I could, until you went away to another corner of the world, leaving me behind.”

He flinches a little at the words. It’s true, he did leave you behind. It’s time he owns up to it.

“I’m sorry, ----. We were going to be far apart, and you and I were still young. I’m thankful for our friendship, but I thought that we could leave it behind. To revisit it one day, if we wanted to. I didn’t want to burden you with a friendship so pressing with its demands just to keep it alive. I thought I gave you a choice. Nonetheless, I’m sorry I didn’t contact you. I wanted to, but each year held me back when you’d gone years without speaking to me. But I believed I was still your friend,” he bends down and holds your hand. “I thought we’d survive despite not a single word being exchanged between us. And I know I’m right. But please be upset, I don’t like you being upset with me.”

You hold his hand, fingers curling around his wrist.

“I’m not mad at you, I understand. Maybe not then, but I do now.”

You give him a genuine smile, and his heart soars.

“So now, you’re back to being my best friend, no takebacks. Or I’ll knock you out.”

“Woah, ease up there. It’s been barely five seconds since we’ve made up and you’re already threatening me?”

“Like I said, I’ll knock you out.”

He immediately moves away from you, hands positioned in a poor imitation of some jiujitsu pose you know he has no idea about.

And you laugh, a childish sound coming from your mouth. He sees you, head thrown back and he feels his lips curling upwards.

You stay there for what feels like hours, catching up. He teases you and you threaten him, and he makes you laugh. You forget the ice cream. It feels just like old times.

When it gets darker, Hyunjin drops you off at your home after saving your number, with promises to meet you tomorrow. You wave him off, beaming.

Later, you stumble into bed with a heavy heart, sad that the evening had ended so soon. You know you won’t get any sleep, and yet you try. When you finally feel like you’re dozing off, your phone vibrates with a notification. Cursing whoever decided to message you without your permission (how dare they, when you were just about to fall asleep?) you unlock it to see a message from an unknown number.

>>>See you tomorrow, Miss Writer.

You smile and type something to send him too.

<<<See you tomorrow, Mr. Hwang.

And he’s the one who’s kicking his feet when he receives your message.

Labels: @straykidsland

© booksndpoetry 2024. All rights reserved. Please do not plagiarise, translate, repost or steal my works in any way. All idols used in this piece are just inspiration to characters. They do not reflect the real people in any way.

[emlynnnnn]

ODD ONE OUT — .3

gosling!ken x barbie!reader

summary | You and ken go out to lunch. Questions are asked.

part one , part two , part three , part four , part five

. . .

YOU nervously tapped your perfectly filed nails on the skin of your thigh as you glared up at your clock, watching as the skinny hand ticked by every second.

Ken was taking you out for lunch today.

Granted, he wanted to do it for his Barbie, but you were still excited to spend time with him nonetheless.

“Good afternoon,” Ken sung cheerily as he waltzed his way into you book shop, looking across the register at you expectantly with a grin. “You ready to go?”

You sighed lightly before getting up from your chair and walking around the till. “Yup,” You nodded with a warm smile. “Where are we going?”

Ken chuckled. “We’re going to Barbie’s restaurant, obviously,” He replied as if it was obvious, referring to chef Barbie’s restaurant in town.

You rolled your eyes with a chuckle as you both approached the front door, opening it for Ken to walk through first. He expressed a small ‘thank you’ and you both began to make your way through town in a comfortable silence, not feeling any need to fill in the gaps.

. . .

“..AND then when the twist was revealed I nearly threw the book across the room in surprise!” Ken exclaimed with a loud laugh, throwing his arms up dramatically with a knife and fork in hand.

You sent him an amused smile—you had personally seen the twist coming when you’d read the book, but you’d also been reading for as long as you could remember and knew most of the tropes out there. “What did Barbie think of that one?” You asked with a forced look of expectation, already knowing what the answer would be.

“Oh, she didn’t want to talk about it with me… but it’s okay—I’m sure she enjoyed it,” Ken shrugged, clearly a bit disheartened.

You took a moment to drink from your cup as your thought over your next words. “Ken…” You began slowly, earning a curious glance from the man across from you. “Why do you always try to impress Barbie so much when she doesn’t give you anything back?”

Maybe you were pushing too far, but the question had already been asked and you waited with baited breath as you watched Ken’s expression turn to one of thought.

“I don’t understand?” He replied, seemingly confused by what you had asked him.

“Well… You’re always doing things for Barbie but she never gives anything back… So why do you bother?” You repeated your question, swallowing nervously as you analysed Ken’s features.

There was a gradual frown developing across Ken’s mouth as he continued to take in what you had asked. “…Because I love her,” He finally spoke in a rather dubious manner.

He seemed sad as he gave his answer, almost as if a bit of realisation had crossed his mind—not that he showed it for long, as his attention was immediately back on you as a question of his own popped into his head.

“Why don’t you have your own Ken?” He asked suddenly, taking you off guard as you inhaled sharply.

It felt like time had frozen around your table as your heart hammered in your chest—it had never done that before. “I- I don’t know,” You answered unsurely, your eyes dropping to your heels under the table. There was a slight melancholy leaking it’s way into your chest. “I guess it doesn’t make sense for book Barbie to have a Ken…” You shrugged sombrely. “All I ever do is read. I’m super boring.”

Ken looked at you quizzically, seemingly taken aback by your answer. “I don’t think you’re boring,” He swiftly cut in. “I think you’re one of the most interesting Barbie’s in Barbieland, actually… Anyone who reads all those stories must be interesting.”

You felt yourself scoff and shake your head with a chuckle. “You don’t need to try make me feel better, Ken. I appreciate it but it’s okay, I’ve had to live with it since I arrived in Barbieland,” You tried to dismiss him, picking up your knife and fork to continue eating the ‘food’ from your plate.

Ken huffed out a small air of laughter as he watched you try and shove the conversation under the rug and reached forward to grab your wrist. “I can be your Ken,” He offered with a warm grin.

You felt your face burn a bright red at his words—he what?

“You and I could be best buddies, y’know! I’ll be your best Ken and you’ll be my best Barbie,” He chuckled at the thought, pulling his hand away from you.

There was a small dropping feeling in your chest—of course he meant it like that. It was probably foolish to think he would ever move on from Barbie. Just once, you wanted to know what it felt like to have someone’s attention.

His hand was warm…

You flashed him a pained grin. “Sure, Ken. I’d really like that,” You eventually answered.

“You should come to beach tonight for our boys blowout,” He excitedly told you, looking across the table with bright eyes.

You looked at him in complete bafflement. “Ken’s have a boys night?” You asked comically, trying to hold in your smile. “Where is it?”

“On beach, duh. It’s where we sleep,” Ken explained again as if it was the most obvious thing ever, making you roll your eyes once again.

“Wow, I can’t believe that’s where you guys sleep…” You shook your head in disbelief as you held in your giggles, imagining all the Ken’s curled up together on the sand every night. “I never even thought about it, actually.”

“Well, are you gonna come tonight? You’ll be the first Barbie to go!” He asked again excitedly, clasping his hands together as he looked at you hopefully.

You turned to look toward beach as the sun settled across the perfect blue sky, sighing slightly as you weighed over your choices.

“Fine, I’ll go.”

. . .

ALL eyes were on you as yourself and Ken approached the already established party where music was being loudly bumped across beach and a big bonfire was burning brightly in the centre of all the action.

“I think I might freak out if they don’t stop staring…” You whispered to Ken from the corner of your mouth before flashing a painfully forced smile toward the large group of Ken’s.

“They’re just surprised because they’ve never seen a Barbie at the boys’ blowout… Don’t mind them!” He chirped joyfully, completely oblivious to how uncomfortable you had gotten. He wrapped an arm around your tensed shoulders and dragged you right into the crowd and toward the large bonfire. “Cool, right?”

You stood in silent awe as you watched the flames dance well above your height—it was a huge fire. “Yeah, cool,” You nodded with your mouth slightly ajar.

“—Woah, hey Barbie,” A strange voice piped up from behind yourself and Ken, making you both turn around.

You had to hide your amusement from the utter surprise on backflip Ken’s face, his own surfboard tucked under his left arm.

“Hi, Ken,” You sent him a polite little wave.

“What’re you doing here? Aren’t you supposed to be at girls night with all the other Barbie’s,” He asked curiously, digging his surfboard into the sand by his feet—why he still even had it was a mystery to you.

You shook your head. “No, I don’t always go to girls night,” You explained.

“I asked her to come,” Stereotypical Ken cut in eagerly as he once again wrapped an arm around your shoulder and pulled you into close, not wanting to be left out of the conversation. He was always touchy around backflip Ken anyways. “Thought we’d have a totally fun night if she came along,” He continued on with a smoulder, making you snort.

“Oh,” Backflip Ken began. “Well, it’s super awesome that you’re here,” He sent you a small wink before pulling his surfboard out of the ground and running off with it into the distance—to where, exactly, you didn’t know.

“He’s an idiot…” Ken grumbled to your right, making you gasp lightly and leave an abrupt whack on his arm.

“Ken!” You hissed. “That’s rude.”

Ken chuckled as he clutched his arm, feigning an injury. “Ouch, Barbie… I might have to go get doctor Barbie after that one…” He pretended to cry and you rolled your eyes.

“You’re a big baby,” You joked with a wide grin, walking away to start talking to the other Kens.

. . .

—> part four

. . .

note | wow… i actually cant thank you all enough for how much support the first two parts have received!! I’ve read all your comments and reposts, and thank you all so so much!! I actually wanna cry over how many notes the last parts have gotten so genuinely thank you.

i’m still quite leg deep in school atm so updates aren’t being pumped out daily, but i’m doing my best! this one is shorter than the last… but i still hope you guys enjoy 😌

[aemonds-wifey]

Summary: You and Osferth take your family to a sombre occasion, it is not as peaceful as you thought it would be.

Warnings: Smut

(Another delightful one shot requested by @chainsawsangel)

“A bit higher” you instructed

Edmund lifted the bow slightly he then sharply released the arrow and let it fly towards the target. It struck near the centre. You gasped with an impressed smile “Well done Edmund!”                                             He nodded in gratitude “I still missed the middle!!”       

Sihtric stood by you and clapped at Edmunds effort “Still a good technique. You have a good teacher.”                                                                                         “It will not be good If I miss and end up hitting a tree.” Edmund muttered.                                             You knelt beside him and rubbed his shoulder “I never hit the centre when I trained….You have only been practicing a week or so you are doing incredibly well.”                                                                       “I can do better Mother.” He said                                                                                       You reassured him with a kiss to the head “Nobody is a marksman at ten my boy. You are doing so well.”                                                                                       “Better then me when I attempted.”

You all turned round to see Osferth standing watching you both, he had his arms clasped behind his back. Edmund looked at him “Father look!”                                                 Osferth nodded “You will be a fine archer” Something was off about the way Osferth spoke, he seemed distracted, he looked at Sihtric “Can you take Edmund back? I need to talk to Y/N.” he said                                                                                                 Sihtric nodded “Of course…” he patted Osferth’s arm and called to Edmund “Come on boy, lets go find out how your brother is doing with his sword practice with Uncle Finan!” You quickly hugged Edmund as he walked past you to put down his bow on the log, Sihtric and he then walked over the ridge and back to the settlement. You noticed Osferth’s expression. “What is it my love?” He sighed deeply and embraced you, you worried as you held him. Breaking apart and looking at him. “My aunt…my mother’s sister, Eedwin has passed…Her daughter, Freyja has written.” He said holding a crumpled letter. Your eyes dropped “Oh Osferth…my love I’m so sorry…I know how found you were of her. She was the one who took you to the monastery wasn’t she?” He nodded “Indeed…” he smiled with fond memories “I wrote to her often…I am glad she met Edmund and Stigir when they were babies…I only wish she could have met Estrid and Cenric.” He sighed. You reassured him by holding his arms and looking up at him “She met our eldest, I too am sad she never met Estrid and Cenric but my love she was not well then…she wrote to us and we will cherish those memories. “He kissed you slowly and smiled “You are right…”                                                                                           “She was good to you Osferth…we must pay our respects.”                                                                     He nodded “I was about to ask about attending the funeral…It is in Winchester…We would need to leave in the morrow.”      You nodded “It is not a problem…we will go Osferth. Together. All of us.” You promised

🍂

Winchester was not how you expected, in truth you thought Runcorn was more attractive. The journey had been uneventful and you were welcomed with open arms by Freyja, Osferth’s cousin. She was a warm, mothering figure that reminded you of Eedwin when you met her. She had six children of her own, and they immediately all were happy to meet your own children. It put your mind at ease to be in the home of Osferth’s family, even if they were not as familiar, it felt as if you were not strangers, the children enjoyed each others company…and even if this visit was brief you would do your best to support Osferth in this period of loss.

*

The funeral itself was a peaceful event, Osferth remained composed throughout but your hand remained on his and squeezed it occasionally. Your children stood in front of you, keeping quiet as the Saxon priest delivered a eulogy for Osferth’s aunt. Frejya stood with her own children looking remarkably stoic, you had never attended a funeral like this before-as you glanced round to observe the customs you spotted a man who stood near Frejya, looking at you with a studying look that made you slightly uncomtorble. Your eyes shifted back to Osferth, he kept his head down and you joined him.                                                                                                 Osferth’s aunt was laid to rest in the ground, again a Saxon custom you had not gotten your head around as you were use to burning your dead and sending them off  to Odin’s hall. Osferth stood with his cousin Freyja,  You left them to talk and catch up as you walked with the children.  Edmund stayed close by, walked with you and you noticed Freyja’s children sat by the tree talking amongst themselves, you knelt down and looked at them “Why don’t you go and talk to your cousins? Hmm?”

Stigir nodded, Cenric and Estrid also agreed. Edmund stayed by your side “I’ll stay with you.”

You nodded “Thank you son.” The rest of your children went along to sit with their cousins, Edmund looked up at you “Are you sad Mother?” he asked

You nodded “I am …I only met her the once when you were babies, but your father will need cheering up later, maybe you could both go for a walk? He would like that.”

Edmund nodded “I’ll suggest it after supper.”

You leant down and kissed him on the head, he was growing and you  were sure that  before long he would grow taller than you. You both walked around the church yard, passing the various flowers that eclipsed the whole grounds. It was beautiful and peaceful. You both approached an old well and stood by it, Edmund looked around “What do you think of Winchester then Edmund?” you asked.

He shrugged “It seems nice…but it is not home. “

You nodded “It is where your father is from, he met uncle Uhtred here and then he joined his group and travelled up north.”

“Where he met you!” Edmund exclaimed.

“Exactly right. And I have never been happier.”   You said smiling ruffling your fingers through Edmunds thick hair.

“You must tell me your saga Mother. Your journey to England and how you and father fell -“

“I will when you are older my boy.” You chuckled.

Edmund laughed and looked around at the tall spire on the church, your gaze could see your other children playing with their cousins-full of glee which warmed your heart. You inhaled slowly as you searched for Osferth but you could not see him, as you spoke with Edmund. You looked up and saw the man you recognised it as the man who gave you an uneasy look in the church. He still held that expression as he moved towards you, you did not look at him directly, only a quick glance. He stopped and observed you and you  finally met his gaze.

“Your with Osferth? Frejya’s cousin.” He said rather harshly. You nodded “I am Osferth’s wife.”     You said proudly.

He spat by your feet “Danish whore…”                       Edmund moved with a brazen stance and bravely stood in front of you as backed away from the man.                                                                              “Leave her be!” Edmund yelled                                                                                             The man scoffed “Back away boy if you know what is good for you.”                                                                         You held your arm around Edmund “Do not speak to my son like that.”                                                                            “Hes a bastard like his father, I’ll talk to him like I wish you Viking whore.”                                                Edmund shoved him further than he anticipated, the man tumbled to  his knee , he was enraged and held his arm up as he approached you both, you brought Edmund back round and protected him under your shoulder. “You little bastard!!! Son of a whore!”

Before he could lay a finger on you or Edmund you saw Osferth grab the raised hand and pull him back, He tumbled to the ground properly this time on his back. He struggled to get to his feet quickly but once he did he swung at Osferth, who leant back missing the punch. He dodged another incoming punch and turned on his side, kicking the foolish man to the floor.  Osferth stood over him and kicked him in the side , before kneeling down and grabbing his collar , pulling his face close to his “You DARE…speak to my wife or any of my children again and I will kill you. You will wish for me to smite you because I will do worse to you.”                                                                                                         He aggressively shoved him to the ground. You held tightly and protectively over Edmund as you watched Osferth catch his breath. Frejya approached you both and looked to the drunk man “Leave this place Helbert…you are no longer welcome.”                                                                                                                                              He got to his feet and stared at Osferth, who unconsciously held the sword on his waist-you inhaled as you arms rested tightly on Edmunds shoulders.

The man realising he was in the wrong slowly backed away and headed away from the church yard and left Winchester. Osferth looked at you and Edmund , he knelt in front of his son and held his arms “You are a brave lad…protecting your mother.”

“Why did he call me a bastard?” Edmund asked "Is that ..is…that ….what I am?”

You gulped , your heart broke thinking about this conversation-Osferth looked at his son with genuine reassurance “You are our son…we welcomed you into this world with your brother under our  union…you are no bastard Edmund. You and your siblings are my greatest pride and joy.” Edmund looked into his fathers eyes “Truly…?”

Osferth looked at him “I was born in circumstances that earned me the name bastard…I had no relationship with my father. Which is why I made a promise that when my own children arrived I would aspire to be there for you and my boy I am so blessed to have such a wonderful and caring son.”

“I could not wish for a better father…” Edmund said “Nor a more loving mother…”                                 Osferth smiled “My dear boy.” Osferth brought him forward and hugged him. His eyes met yours as you laid a hand to your chest over your heart, which was swelling up at what you saw. Even after ten years of marriage you knew the fire that burned for Osferth would never be extinguished.                             Osferth looked at Edmund “You and your brother’s and sister are the greatest gift. Even if you were a bastard which you are not….I would not love you less.”        

Edmund wrapped his arms around his fathers neck once again in a sweet embrace. You were on the verge of tears which brought you happiness. Osferth let go of Edmund who was smiling, “Go find your brothers and sister…play with them.” He instructed kindly. He then got to his feet, you smiled at him and took his hands. He looked at you with concern, you only nodded to reassure him you were perfectly fine.

Freyja approached you “Apologises Y/N, Osferth, Helbert is a wayward idiot…did he hurt you? Is Edmund alright?”

“We are fine yes please do not fret Freyja.” You answered.

Osferth looked at her “Thank you cousin. I will go and pray for his soul I think…”

You caught a look in Osferth’s eyes, he knew what you were thinking, yet you noticed a silent urgency displayed in Osferth’s eyes…a look you had not seen for a while. Osferth cleared his throat “Frejya can you watch the children for a moment?”

*

Osferth lead you to the church, you stood inside and waited for him to close the door. He even barred it. Agonising slowly.

You watched him before turning and approaching the alter, looking up at the heavy metallic cross that hung from the rafters. You closed your eyes briefly, and hearing Osferth slowly approach you gave you tingles along the skin on your arm.

His hands found your waist and clasped at your front, his chin found its way to your chin, planting delicate kisses to your neck and his lips moved to your earlobe-biting it softly. A gasp escaped your mouth as his bites became more frequent, His hand ruffled around in your dress, finding a gap he palmed his hand down to your core, his fingers rubbed in intercreative circles which made you hiss in pleasure. You leant forward unable to contain your stature, Osferth leant forward with you-feeling him hard against your lower back, you turned your head and met his lips, which parted ever so slightly as you moaned his name into his mouth.

He abruptly stopped and flipped you around, facing him you kissed him straight away trying to find your hand to his cock but he took control. His grip on your waist dug into your skin as he lifted you onto the stone alter, resting on the velvet blood wine cloth his hand resumed to crawl up to your thigh-as your hand resumed an attempt to grab his hard cock. He pulled down your dress which exposed one of your breasts, as soon as you noticed he bent down to swirl his tongue over your hardened nipple. You free hand roamed around to the back of his head, carefully grazing the hair on his head. You other hand found its way to his cock, you palmed it in such a way that made him shudder with intense glee that he briefly stopped himself kissing your bare chest. You moved your hand up and down with a slow pace to start, as you picked up the pace and he lifted himself up to meet your lips with his.

He held onto your hand that rested on his cock, stopping you moving it. He grinned at you as he moved your hand and pushed you down gently on the alter. Your back met with the cloth and the stone, which sent a shiver down your spine, he stood over you looking so determined and yet the lust made his eyes burn with an affectionate desire. You felt him line his cock up with your sensitive folds, without a word he pushed into you and leant over to crash his lips against yours. You felt him push further in you, going deeper which made you cry out in exquisite moans, echoing in the church halls in between kisses. He moaned as he fucked you against the alter, your hands held onto his shoulders for dear life, you caught glimpse of his eyes which almost stared into the very dept of your soul. The baby monk who stole your heart a decade ago, now taking you in this holy building-it felt sinful but the pleasure that overwhelmed you made you forget the location of your love making.

“Y/N I’m so close….” He breathed.

You responded with grunts of gratification that made him bury his nose in the crook of your neck, you felt close too and within seconds you felt your walls constrict against him. You felt him empty himself in you as you felt the familiar euphoric discharge claim your body and mind. Osferth gasped against your skin with his teeth grazing your neck as you tilted your head back, the wave of pleasure left you feeling dazed and highly satisfied. Osferth’s breathing was ragged as he waited a long moment before releasing himself from you and facing you, you lifted your head slightly and both smiled as he grabbed your arms and lifted you up, he resumed to stand and pulled you into a strong embrace. Your legs wrapped round his waist and rested your arms around his shoulders, he grinned and kissed your jaw “Heavens woman…”                                                                                       You smiled as he dotted your face with tiny brief kisses “Do you think God watched?” you asked playfully.                                                                                        “I do not care…” he said kissing your lips with an affection you knew would never die.

TAGS

@schniiipsel @moonchildrenandflowercrowns @mischiefmanaged71 @chainsawsangel @virginslut08 @noiralei @fussel9913 @nolongereviliwantlove @talesofoldandnew

[bowandcurtsey]

Hello Aine!~ I hope you're doing well for the past few days and weeks. Can I request for the BC boys (Nozel, Fuegoleon, Yami or maybe Julius) reacting to finding out that their daughter have a boyfriend? Just the thought of them finding out makes me laugh and giggle🤭 I really do hope you're doing well for the past few days and weeks. I love you and take care!~💖

AHA! the dreaded boyfriend! I love this request because YAY dad! requests!! Also bby I'm doing well, thank you!

awww ilysm too sweetie, I hope you're well and healthy and that you're still here to read this fic! ❤

Characters: DAD! Nozel, Fuegoleon, Yami x f! reader d/n = daughter's name Bf/n = boyfriend’s name TW: Aged up characters, unchecked work

Nozel Silva

You thought about it before you decided whether you should break the news to your husband or to let your daughter tell him herself.

You decided not to break the sister's code with your daughter, so you waited until your daughter told her dad herself. Thankfully she chose a family dinner night where aunt Nebra and Noelle joined.

"soooo, I wanted to tell you guys a piece of news."

"Is it good news of bad news?" Nozel glanced at her daughter, while putting a piece of duck on her plate.

"Depends on how you look at it," she answered simply. You daughter was always smart since young, if you didn't know what she was about to announce, you would be anxious too.

"come on now, tell us!" Nebra teased.

"I'm seeing someone at the moment. It's been about half a year.."

Nozel chocked on the duck he was eating as Nebra and Noelle squealed in excitement. You stroked your husband on his back.

"are you ok, dad?" d/n pursed her lips.

"Who is he? How old is he?" Nozel had too many questions to ask.

Well, he was a pretty good boy, you saw him once or twice when he sent d/n home. D/n answered everything truthfully and calmly while her dad just sat there like a shocked statue.

"Calm down brother!" Nebra chided her brother, "

-------------------------

"are you ok, love?" you giggled at him when you were both alone behind closed doors.

"Do you think she's too young for a boyfriend, honey?"

"Baby, she's 18. It's common for their age."

"did you date when you were 18?" your husband wouldn't give up without a fight.

"yes. I did. I dated many boys, by the way." You laughed at your husbands appalled expression. He huffed in defeat.

"He's a really nice boy, honey." you tried to console your husband.

"you've met him? why don't I know about this??" he stared at you.

"I met him once or twice when he sent d/n home," you rolled your eyes at him, earning a tch from your husband, "she wanted to break the news to you herself."

"she's been dating him 6 months!!"

"Love, calm down and just let nature take it's course~" you sauntered to your husband, "ahhh, young love, reminds me of us back in the days~"

Your giggles bounced off the walls of your shared room as you glanced at your husband with a sheepish grin on your face.

He couldn't help but smile back with a slight blush on his face.

Fuegoleon Vermillion

"dad. I got something I wanna tell you." The young lion cub told her dad one day while sparring with him.

"what is it, cupcake?" Although he was in his forties now, Fuego continued to look spry and fit.

"I'm dating someone."

"WHAT?" Fuego nearly missed the spear that was coming his way and he tumbled onto the ground.

"DAD!"

"Who is it?" his expression was sombre.

"Someone from the Silver Eagles! He's a really nice guy! I'll bring him for dinner one day?"

Throughout the training, the head of the Vermillion household could not concentrate. He ended up concluding the training session early and headed home.

D/n went to have dinner with her date, much to her father's dismay and the sulky Lion dragged his feet back home.

--------------------------

"Hubby, what's wrong, you look like you've been through hell. I though you were training with d/n? She gave you a hard time?" you came over and stroked your husband's beautiful vermillion hair.

"honey, did you know that our daughter has a...." he found it hard to say it out loud, so he spat out the next word quickly and quietly, "b-boyfriend?"

"Oh the young handsome guy from the Silver Eagles?"

"so you do know," Fuego felt betrayed.

"He's a good catch," you hummed as you turned around towards the dining room, "come, dinner's ready."

"Why didn't any one tell me sooner?" your husband continued to press on with his questions, "he had better treat d/n right, or else."

"Or else what, love?" you chuckled, "this is the bitter sweet phase of a young puppy love, let them be, will you."

"am I the last to know?" he said with a sad pout.

"oh honey.." you bit your bottom lip, a sign to tell him it was indeed the truth. You went over to sit in his lap, "your daughter knows her dad well, she knew you were gonna be dramatic over this."

"Me? Dramatic?" your husband's pride was really hurt now, you could see the wrinkles in the corner of his eyes and the slight crinkles on his forehead, nevertheless, he was still handsome, like a nicely aged wine.

"Give him a chance, he's a pretty good catch." you said as you put a piece of asparagus into your mouth.

"I'm going to ask Nozel if he knows about this guy..."

"You're a total drama queen." you gave him a quirked eyebrow, "anyway, I'm inviting him to dinner coming friday, are you free?"

"Okay, I'll talk to Nozel tomorrow.." he mumbled to himself.

You sighed and shook your head at your beloved husband. It was going to be a long dinner on Friday.

Yami Sukehiro

"YOU WHAT?" Yami yelled and you swore you could hear some birds flying off from the fright.

"er. Boyfriend, dad."

Yami sat down in his chair, pulling you onto his lap, "baby, hold me, my old fragile heart cannot take this."

You and your daughter rolled your eyes at your husband and Yami chuckled at how you two looked exactly the same.

“Alright, call him in for a friendly dinner here, coming Friday night, 7pm.” Yami gave his daughter a mischievous smile with a glint in his eye.

You daughter might have missed it, but you were absolutely sure your husband was planning for something.

———————————-

The day came and the bell rang at 7pm sharp. D/n skipped to the doors and opened them.

“Hello Mr and Mrs Sukehiro, thank you for inviting me to dinner,” bf/n passed you a bottle of wine.

"Oh, you shouldn't have sweetie," you smiled warmly at him, "come, let's have dinner!"

"Hi bf/n!!!!" the bulls greeted him with enthusiastically.

Yami simply grunted and headed for the table. You glared at your man prompting him to behave himself and be nice, just as you warned him last night.

"ahem," Yami got your signal and tried his best to behave, "so whaddya do, bra- kiddo?"

"I work in the wizard king's office, sir. Like an assistant."

There were some ohhhs and ahhhs and wahhhh from the bulls.

"So you're just an errand boy- *cough cough*" You stepped on Yami's foot from underneath the table and gave him another killer glare.

"That's nice, bf/n," you smiled at him, "you must get to meet lots of people everyday."

The dinner went on with get to know each other and the bulls happily chatting with bf/n. Yami continued to grill him but he didn't go too far since you were there to give him menacing glares. But bf/n was patient and answered every questions politely nonetheless.

--------------------------

"He's a boring chap, baby." Yami was sprawled on your shared bed later that night, as you were doing your night routine, "How can he protect d/n from dangers?"

"He makes her happy, that's all that is important. Besides, he can protect her in many other ways, just give him a chance and have some trust in your daughter, alright?"

Yami gave a little pout and sighed, "our little princess is not so little anymore is she? She's gonna leave us some day.. Let's make more kids baby~" he looked at you with a little smirk.

"And go through this dramatic little shit with you when all of them get into relationships? hell no."

"Baby! You're breaking my old fragile heart."

[yatsurinamikaze]

Sombre (eighth) - (ninth - part i) - (ninth - part ii)

//tw: miscarriage, blood, depression, dark stuff.

How long had it been? 10? 12 years? Y/n thought to herself. I guess so. Getting off at the bus stop, you start dragging your luggage towards your house.

Knock-knock!

He opens the door, eyes widening slightly in surprise. “You’re here,” he breathes out.

You crease your lips and smile sheepishly. “Hey, Dad.”

You had not told your father about the miscarriage. You just never shared that kind of relationship, not ever since your mother passed away when you were 14. You lived under the same roof but rarely shared your deeper thoughts and emotions. Your father studied your expression, noticing how worn and fragile you looked, but he didn’t press you for details. “I’m glad you’re home,” he said softly, dragging your luggage in.

The first morning back, your father handed you a small basket. "Mrs. Tanaka needs help preparing for the village Eisa dance practice," he said, avoiding your eyes. "It would be good for you to go and lend a hand."

You nodded, understanding that this was his way of encouraging you to reconnect with a part of yourself. As you stepped out of the house, a wave of nostalgia hit you. The sweet scent of frangipani flowers mingled with the briny sea breeze, just as you remembered from your childhood. You walked past the familiar hibiscus bushes, their vibrant red flowers swaying gently in the morning sun. The cicadas sang their timeless song, and you felt the warmth of the Okinawan sun on your face, just like the countless summers you spent playing in these very streets - now bustling with kids playing Beigoma.

You stepped in front of the house. Wow. This place hasn’t changed in the slightest. Sighing, you stepped inside and rang the doorbell.

Mrs. Tanaka greeted you with a warm smile and a gentle hug. “Y/n-chan, welcome back!” she exclaimed, her eyes sparkling with joy. “The last time I saw you, you were”—she leveled her hand against her knees—“just a little girl.” She laughed. “You were tripping left and right at the hem of your kimono. Oh my, you’ve grown so much and so beautifully, must I add.”

You smiled at her heartfelt welcome, the familiarity in her voice bringing back memories of a simpler, happier time for you. She brought back a tea cup full of sanpin cha, taking the basket from your hands and sitting down at her sewing machine.

“That machine has stood the test of time,” you joked with her and giggled.

“Just like me,” she giggled along and started rotating the wheel of her sewing machine, holding the cloth between the needles with her fingers.

You exchanged details about your lives; you shared stories of your life in Osaka, and Mrs. Tanaka filled you in on the latest village gossip. The familiarity of the small talk was comforting.

You took the final sip of the tea and walked to the kitchen to place the cup back. On your way back, you noticed a wall full of photographs and started looking at them. There were photographs of Mrs. Tanaka in her younger days, looking beautiful like a snow maiden, her face radiant with youth and happiness. There were pictures of local festivals, family gatherings, and children playing in the village square. One photograph in particular caught your eye: a black-and-white image of a handsome young man in a military uniform. You didn't recognize him.

"Is this your husband?" you asked softly, pointing to the photo. "I don't remember seeing him.”

Mrs. Tanaka smiled wistfully. "Yes, that's Takeshi. He passed away long before you were born. We met just before the war, and he was my rock through those difficult times. He had the warmest heart and the brightest smile. Losing him was the hardest thing I've ever faced."

You felt a pang of sadness, reminded of your own situation and the recent turmoil in your life. Mrs. Tanaka continued, "Takeshi always believed in facing life's challenges head-on. He once told me, 'No matter how long the night, dawn will always break.’” Mrs. Tanaka's eyes glistened with tears, but she smiled. "He taught me to find strength in the darkest times. That strength carried me through the war and all the years after."

You listened, your eyes welling with tears. “It must’ve been really hard for you.”

She continued, “It was the most sorrowful time for me, dear. But with time, you learn to live with it. Acceptance isn't about giving up. It's about finding peace in the present moment. When I finally accepted my loss, I started to see beauty in the world again. The flowers, the sunsets, even the laughter of children. They all became reminders that life goes on, and there's always something to cherish.”

You smiled at her response. She turned her head towards you. “Now, will you help me with these costumes or will you just stand there like a beanpole?”

As you worked together on the colorful dance costumes, you felt a sense of peace washing over you. Mrs. Tanaka's words resonated deeply with you. You realized you had been clinging to your pain, unable to let go and move forward.

Acceptance, you understood, was the first step toward healing.

Hehe! Long time no see! Might be some continuity errors since I picked this story up after almost a year!

Masterlist

New taglist - DM/Comment.

[chaotic-nick]

Perfect Apology

Plot: Jushiro's confused about why you're ignoring him, or why you have such a solemn look on your face.

Pairing: Jushiro Ukitake x Reader x Shunsui Kyouraku

wc: 2800 // no warnings

AU: Human, modern, highschool lovers

4.30 PM Saturday

Jushiro stood outside where she worked with a hopeful look on his face as his hand, buried deep in his pocket, counted the notes he’d saved up. Perfect. He thought. Seeing her inside the calligraphy had his heart leaping to his throat. It had become a routine to wait for her at the same spot before he mustered up the courage to finally tell her how much he adored her in the past three years of their high school lives.

With all the things he wanted to do, all the places they could go together made the wait of the hours to end exciting. Yes, he was nervous which explains the lump in his throat, however, knowing (Y/n) she’d always say yes.

His eyes moved away from the ground to look at her through the shop’s windows when he heard her say, “Thank you, everyone!” Before pushing the door, she bowed once again, hair curtaining around her face and hiding the sombre look she wore.

Maybe it was the inevitable separation that’ll come once the college chapter of their lives begin that made her wear such an expression.

“Good afternoon, (Y/n).” He greeted, pulling his hand out of the comfort of his pocket to wave at her. Along with the soft wide-eyed smile, hints of pink dusted his cheeks.

Her face contorted to a different expression though not the one he expected. Not a smile but a look of shock, mouth falling open to call his name “Jushiro?” heavy with question to it.

Joining her side to walk beside her, the hand that wanted to ask if he could hold hers fell limp at the side and he began to explain himself, “Sorry, I should’ve called your house phone before coming here.”

Still, nothing changed on her face, only nodding. “I was— wanted to see you.”

“Are . . . are you not busy studying for college exams?” He should ask why she wore such an expression on her face. Was it at work? 

Jushiro assuming the worse that had happened to her only smiled, not wanting to bring out a breakdown. “I should make time for you since we’re a couple.” He should do it somewhere where she could be comfortable not in a sea of busy people who’d stop and watch with wonder why she was crying.

“Right,” even the fact that they were a couple didn’t put any change on her face. Maybe it was a long day of busy customers. Together they stood in silence, waiting for the pedestrian lights to turn green.

Before he could ask if he could walk her home, her solemn tone cut him and his hopes of doing so off, “See you tomorrow, Jushiro.” cementing his feet to the pavement.

“Wait—” all that he could do was watch her blend in with the sea of people until she boarded a bus taking her to her house’s route.

Behind Jushiro, was his best friend, Shunsui. His expression matched the expression (Y/n) wore unlike her. His heart that seemed to beat so slow in the training grounds now went at a rapid pace until deafened his ears.

Shunsui bent his head down to allow his hat to cover his face, eyebrows furrowing in confusion as Jushior turned around. Hand gripping the leather straps of his bag until his knuckles turned white to calm his loud heart.

3.00pm

He’d spent the previous night pacing about in his room with a hand above his forehead, thinking of the many things he’d probably done wrong even going as far as phoning the Kyouraku-Issei household only for him to find that it was time for them to change their phone.

Repeated ‘Hello’s’ from little Nanao until Shunsui’s older brother picked it from her. ‘Who is this?’ ‘Good day, It’s me Jushiro, may I know if Shunsui’s available to talk to me?’ ‘There’s no one here . . . must be a mistake.’ Trying to explain the sound of the phone disconnected ended the conversation there.

Jushiro had ignored his desk where his review books waited for him through the night while his heart and mind fought. If he called her, what explanation would he give to her father? ‘I’m your daughter’s boyfriend. Yes, she and I are dating . . . oh no, no, please don’t forbid her from seeing me again, sir.’ While his mind created an intricate lie to save his face though, was too much for him to use.

Laying in his bed, his last idea before he thought that slumber would calm his poor heart made his eyes shoot open— and in bold red letter, THE PERFECT APOLOGY.

His first apology, one that he thought was perfect last night didn’t seem as perfect as it was when he finally stood outside the calligraphy shop she’d been working at since they were in the second year of their high school. Dressed in school uniform and marinating in his own sweat, Jushiro assumed that many workers in the comfort of their establishment’s air conditioning either pitied him or made ridiculous bets with each other.

No. He knew that the sad look on her face was his fault, and this is his way of apologising. For Jushiro, who still hasn’t come down from the high of being in his first relationship, to stand an hour before her shift ended was the perfect apology.

Looking down to count the folded bills he had saved from allowances and bus passes, he wanted nothing more but to see the smile on her face when he took her to her favourite Korean ice cream place.

Hearing her, “Senpai,” he pocketed his money and stood up straight. Despite squinting from the heat he could see the colourful flowers being left at the bent sign pole.

Was it that one that made her quiet when she saw him yesterday? 

Right. Maybe she was shaken up from witnessing such a thing. “Hai, (Y/n)-chan?”

“Can I leave early today? I think I can make it up next week.” Through the window, he watched as her hands held on to her things paused with hesitance,

“You don’t have to make us any promises, (Y/n). It’s been heavy for you, take as much 

time as you need.”

Another co-worker who was a college student when (Y/n) first joined chimed in, “Yeah, you definitely need it.” partnered with concern on her face. “I’m busy these days, but I can at least walk you to the bus station if you need me.”

Throwing on her white jacket, she turned to face them properly and bowed. “Thank you, everyone.”

It was obvious to them but not to him, and that realisation had made his shoulders slumping down in guilt and his eyebrow furrowing together. Looking down in confusion, he didn’t notice her pushing the door open.

How she ignored him and kept her head down took his excitement with her fist and crushed it against the ground both of them walked on. “Wait, (Y/n)!” Nearly stumbling to get to her, he called her name again. This time, his tone was heavy with panic.

She stopped, allowing them to close the gap between them before walking in the opposite direction from her original way. “Wait, I can’t walk that fast, I’ll start coughing.”

“Tell me what’s wrong, are you okay?” Asked Jushiro when she stopped again. “You’re beginning to worry me, (Y/n).”

Checking if anyone watched the two of them, (Y/n) only lifted up a hand with a forced smile. “Can we hold hands?”

“S-sure.” At this time of the day just before the rush hours of Karakura town, he could feel the anticipation from everyone they walked past. Plans of going home to the comfort of their families or people.

And yet, his heart is heavy with worry. “How about we walk to the bridge?” Her voice strained with roughness to it. 

“Will you tell me what’s weighing your mind there?”

“Of course.”

Heavy steps against the steel staircase followed after him. Sluggish from a day’s worth of work. “Tired?” He asked, offering his hand to her as he leaned his body to rest against the railing. 

“You could say that, started taking morning shifts after we graduated.”

Joining him in overlooking the traffic below them, her face shone with the orange light from the setting sun. “Do you have time to study at all?”

“Wow,” she breathed, pointing at the sun. “They let me read my materials when it’s a slow day.” The answer to his question didn’t make any sense in his mind, only watching her appreciate the sun.

At that moment, it was when Jushiro realised that his heart was hers. And hers alone. “You should let your hair down more.” He said, threading his fingers through her hair. 

As they took in the silence between them, her eyes remained the same from yesterday. Heavy with longing. “What’s bothering you?” He caught himself asking without a second thought. “We agreed on telling each other everything.”

Jushiro compensated with empty words as she pushed herself off the railing to face him properly. “But the newspaper’s telling me that couples should take time and—“

Finally, the answer he’d been wanting to hear came in a flat tone that cut him off, “You.” 

“Me?” Lost on replaying the many days he’s lived to look for the mistakes there, (Y/n)’s lips that had been pressed into a thin line began to quiver. Her body that she held collectedness, slouched.

“What’s— no, no. It’s probably the night exams I’ve been taking. And the studying I’ve 

been doing . . .” Letting go of her hand, he patted his pockets, then pulled out a bundle that he’s been counting to show it to her. Nearly shoving it to her face with the eagerness to see her smile. “See. Let’s go we can get ice cream! (Y/n), please.”

His furrowed eyebrows and wide-eyes pleading for her forgiveness broke her heart.

“Jushiro,” she spoke in a small tone, a tear escaping from her eye. “You’re dead.”

Confusion fell.

Her eyes averted to the money he held, watching it slowly become drenched in blood. The high school uniform that he always wore even when going to the study centres began to turn into the kimono that served as the canvas of evidence when he died.

Behind him, he heard footsteps approaching them and even at the height of confusion, he turned around to shield (Y/n)’s crouched from. With a relieved sigh, he acknowledged “Shunsui,” it was only him. “Help me out here, please.” He begged, turning to cradle her face with his blood-soaked fingertips.

“Shunsui, help me understand!” He begged. “Why do I have this? I-I’m not dead, this is another one of your pranks, yeah?”

“Don’t you remember anything?” Was all that Shunsui could offer.

“N-nothing!” Pulling her to his chest, Jushiro felt his confusion turn to anger. ”Please, (Y/n) stop crying. What’s happening?”

“Let’s go,” Said Shunsui, taking her bag from her shoulders.

“Shunsui, please no.”

“He needs to remember how he died, (Y/n).”

Standing in front of the memorial place that he saw earlier, Jushiro carefully read the newspaper clippings attached to his face. ‘Promising high school student killed in reckless accident’, ‘Drunk driver kills top student’. And flowers, all that he’s passed by in flower shops and looked at with want, decorated the ground.

“You have unfinished business.” Said Shunsui, hands deep in his hakama. “Whatever it is you need to do it before your soul rots.”

Behind him (Y/n) stood with tears still flowing, hands never letting go of Jushiro’s. He squeezed them as he spoke to Shunsui, “Did you get in?”

A slow nod as Shunsui mustered up the energy to properly look at his friend. “I had to tell them that you passed away— was crying, they probably got the idea.”

“That’d be a story to tell.” Jushiro. “I have a last favour to ask from you?”

“Sure, not like you’d linger longer—” from where she stood, her head snapped to glare at Shunsui, quickly shutting him up, “sorry.”

“Take care of her for me.”

“She’s my best friend too, ‘course I will.”

“I just needed to hear that. Thank you Shunsui.” Turning to face her one last time, the scenario of his death flashed before his eyes. The words he wanted to say to her that night made themselves known again.

Now, he remembers all of it.

He heard her ‘Hello’, finished with a yawn before he saw a blinding light consume all of his surroundings. Seeing the hands that held hers lovingly slowly turn clear. “I think my unfinished business here was, telling you how grateful I am,” at this, her eyes widened. Her lips began to quiver again as he continued, “I felt like I was unstoppable when you took my hand. Wish I told you how much I love you when I was alive.”

Guiding his hands to hold her face one last time, “I know I love you, too, Jushiro.” She tried to smile for it to be a proper image of her in his mind, “I only wish we had more time so I could feel it.”

“Can’t even give this you in this state.” Like her, he offered a smile, pointing his chin down at his breast pocket where he kept the ice cream money, “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” seeing that his soul began to wilt away, her fingers gripped harder. “Keep it, maybe we can get ice cream there.”

“Make sure you live your life first, right?”

“Of course, Jushiro.” Continuing to smile, the weight of his hands slowly disappeared. “He’s really gone now, huh?”

“Are you gonna be okay?”

“I think so, cried most of my tears so . . .” placing his straw hat on her to hide her tear-stained face, Shunsui walked ahead.

“Let’s go, I’m walking you home..”

TEN YEARS LATER

“Jushiro!” Shunsui’s greeting was louder than the crunch of dead leaves under his shoes at the Ukitake Family grave. He slung his leather bag behind him as he crouched down to light a candle.

He could tell that it’d been a while since someone paid the grave a visit. “How are things up there? You wouldn’t be below. We both know that.” Before letting himself sit on the bench cemented across the grave, he took a step back. Hand resting at the curve of the stone. “This’ll be the last visit for now.”

Just like that a painful routine of the life he’d lived since Jushiro’s passing flashed before him, each replaying in great detail. Taking a seat, he allowed himself to relax his shoulders.

With Jushiro like this, he felt at ease. “She’s being transferred to Singapore. And I put in a transfer request for the Japanese embassy.” He explained while folding his blazer.

Rolling up his sleeves, he felt a proud smile stretch on his face. “Still taking care of her.” Under the sun and through the branches a glint of light reflected on his gold band. Perhaps it was Jushiro’s way of asking who the lucky person was.

The sound of dead leaves from the other unvisited graves being crunched earned Shunsui’s attention. “I was telling him how much of a good husband I am.” He boasted loud, smiling at her.

“Knew you’d be here.” Turning her back on him, she began swiping a brush on the bench. “Were you here long?”

“I just got here, right, Jushiro?” It was routine to sit next to each other, staring at the Ukitake headstone. “We’re older than him now.”

“I see it as living our lives.”

“Uh-huh.” Pulling out a bento box bought from the store, she opened it before handing it to Shunsui. “What do you think he’s doing right now?”

“Probably training up there.“

“The heck, Shun! He died coming back from a study centre, he’s still studying to this 

day?”

“I said training.” He put an empty hand by his chin as she fed him. “He’s gonna have to fight me once we get there.”

“Jushiro’s eighteen, we’ll be wrinkly bags. Maybe forgetful, too.” She giggled. “Imagining it happen is funny though.”

“Thinking we’ll get to heaven’s funnier.”

“That’s just you, Shun.”

“You’re already in heaven.”

“What?”

“Because my heart is already heaven.”

“I wonder if Jushiro can move over to make space for you there.”

[tamurilofrivendell]

Beauty and the Beast | Chapter 33

Previous Chapters [1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21, 22, 23, 24, 25, 26, 27, 28, 29, 30, 31, 32]

Read on AO3 [x]

Pairing: Thranduil/Fem. Reader Summary: A Beauty and the Beast inspired tale with Thranduil the Elvenking and a human reader from a nearby village Taglist: @captainchrisstan​ @rebleforkicks​ @yjrevolution​ @majahu​ @honey-wine @accio-boys​ @achromaticerebus​ @solomonssimp​ @tired-ass-show-girl​  @dreamlessnight​ @daddy-long-legolas​ @sleepyamygdala​ @coopsgirl​  @penguinlovestowrite​ @midsommar-nights​ @whore-of-many-hot-men​ @elvyshiarieko​

note: This is the second to last chapter. I’ll be wrapping up their whole 'happy ever after' thing properly in these final two chapters.

Two days passed and then Legolas and Tauriel returned with your father. You were in the library with Thranduil when the news came. You had foregone your book long ago by that point, swapping it for Thranduil’s lap where you sat curled against him, kissing him like he was the very oxygen you needed to breathe.

Legolas had burst into the room and given you such a fright that you had leapt from Thranduil’s lap, though not quick enough because Legolas witnessed the entire scene, including what was happening just before you moved.

He lifted a hand to his face in an attempt to hide his amused smirk and cleared his throat to smother a laugh. The look his father levelled at him told him that he noticed. “I, ah..” He started, recovering himself as quickly as he could. He had the good grace to become a little more sombre as he turned his gaze to you. “Your father is safe. We have set up a room and he is with the healer.”

“Is it bad?” Thranduil asked, and you turned to look at him, a little surprised. You had become too accustomed to Thranduil’s derisive comments or looks whenever your father was mentioned. You understood it more after learning about the roses and everything else that had happened, but it had still felt slightly uncomfortable. You loved your father. Looking at Thranduil now, there seemed to be concern in his expression and you couldn’t stop the softest of smiles gracing your features.

“He will live.” Legolas assured you both, though he was looking at Thranduil, responding to his father’s question. “They had him in this place, some type of hospital I believe it was, but he was just locked in a room and not very well cared for. He has a fever and a sickness in his chest. He is unconscious right now... but you can see him, if you would like.”

This was directed to you and you nodded instantly. “Yes. Yes, please.”

Legolas nodded, moving aside for you to leave the library ahead of him, turning to shoot his ever-so-slightly ruffled and unamused father a smirk.

Moving into the room they had set your father up in, you rushed to the side of his bed. The healer on the other side did her best to put your mind at ease, assuring you that he would recover, and recover well thanks to the medicine and healing powers that the elves had.

Still, you hated to see him this way. He had not woken but he seemed feverish, mumbling under his breath as he slept. You wished desperately for him to wake and yet you also partly dreaded it for the sole reason that the last time he had been here had been terrible and he had not experienced the elves as you had. He had not experienced Thranduil as you had.

Three days passed, during which you hardly left your father’s side. Thranduil came to check in once on that first day but he had not come again, leaving you and your father in peace. He didn’t wish to intrude, though three days apart gave him more time to sit and dwell upon the problem he was now facing.

The problem that was your mortality.

You were a human. Humans, who were there and then gone again so quickly.

The thought agitated him.

He loved you.

Thranduil had admitted as much to you. Out loud, despite his many concerns. The days after both of your confessions to each other had been spent in a little bit of a haze. The two of you had been quite wrapped up in the bliss of it all, exploring this connection that had grown between you both. That you had both finally acknowledged.

However, Thranduil was now succumbing to the reality of the situation. A human and an elf. It had happened, sure. Your favourite story was proof of it - Beren and Luthien. He scoffed to himself as he sat behind his large desk, not getting a single bit of work done as his mind tortured him.

You would die eventually.

He would lose you.

He would be left alone and grieving once more.

He did not know if he could do this again.

The sound of your name roused you from your half-slumber. You sat up in the chair and blinked, turning your attention to your father who was now awake. Your immediate joy soon dissipated and you watched, confused, as he didn’t even look at you, his gaze fixed firmly on the other side of the room. As you studied him, you noticed the wideness of his eyes, the tension in his face... he was afraid.

Swiftly, you turned to see what had captured his attention, and you saw the Elvenking darkening the doorway. He was looking back at your father but he wasn’t moving, as if standing very still would make your father less fearful. However, he still looked intimidating, standing tall with his shoulders straight, chin slightly tilted upwards.

“Father...” You began, turning back to him.

“Daughter!” He cut in before you could continue, reaching out to grasp at your wrist. You winced slightly as the last of the bruises Vermund had left on your skin stung at the contant. Thranduil visibly bristled, however he stayed where he was. “Go!” Your father continued, turning his gaze back to the Elvenking in the doorway, who was now looking at you. The way he was looking at you made your father more scared, more angry. “I do not know how I came to be here but... but you will go, you must! I will stay this time. I will... I will pay for my crimes.”

“No...” You started again but this time it was Thranduil who cut you off.

“This is not necessary.” He said smoothly, taking a few careful steps closer. Your father shifted and his grip on you tightened as Thranduil’s expression softened. It reminded him of the fear he had instilled in you in the past. “Nobody here is a prisoner... my friend.” He blinked. “Not anymore.”

You watched your father trying to figure out what was happening here. To match the elf before him to the one he had met when he first stumbled into this realm. He couldn’t do it and, eventually, turned back to you for help.

You smiled softly at him. It was just so good to see him, finally, to have him right here in front of you. “I have so much to catch you up on.”

Thranduil reached out to place a hand upon your shoulder and you looked up at him. “I only came by to check on you both.” He said, ignoring your father’s expression as he tried to understand what he was witnessing. “I have a meeting but if you have need of me, tell Galion, and I shall come. If your father feels up to it, you might like to show him around.” He smiled again as he leaned in and pressed a kiss to the top of your head before turning and sweeping from the room in a rush of robes.

"So, you and--and the Elvenking?!” Your father’s shock had not lessened in the many hours since you had told him everything that had happened.

You had taken him on a brief tour of the realm and you were both now sitting on a bench in one of the common areas. He had not seemed the slightest bit surprised when you told him that Vermund had led a hundred villagers here to launch an attack on the elves. He scoffed at the mere mention of that man and seemed fairly satisfied to learn of his death. He didn’t say so but he felt a warm gratitude spreading through him when he heard how Thranduil had rescued you from his clutches.

“Yes...” You felt heat rush to your cheeks and you ducked your head, nudging your father as he started to chuckle at you. He was feeling more comfortable now that you had told him what had happened, how things had changed here, though he still had a few of his own concerns.

“It is good to see you up and about!” A voice floated towards the pair of you and when you looked up you saw Legolas coming towards you.

You grinned at him. “Indeed. There is much to be said for the wonders of elvish medicine.” You turned to look at your father, your smile faltering as you realised he’d gone a little pale and was looking down at his shoes. "Are you okay? Are you feeling sick again?” You panicked, reaching out for him.

He shook his head and stood, looking up at Legolas a little timidly. “I... I just wanted to say that... that I am so sorry. I never meant-”

Legolas shook his head and stepped forward, reaching out to clasp your father’s shoulder in a gesture that said more than words could somehow. “It has long since been forgiven.”

A weight seemed to fall from your father’s shoulders and he offered Legolas a smile of his own, nodding gratefully.

Legolas turned to you then, still smiling. “My father wondered if you would both like to take dinner with us tonight.”

It was the slightest bit strange just because you had grown so accustomed to no longer being asked to join them in the royal dining hall but you realised that Thranduil was doing his best to show your father respect. It made you smile even though he wasn’t there.

It was agreed that you would all meet for dinner. The three of you talked a little longer and then Legolas took his leave while you showed your father around a bit more and introduced him to some of your friends.

When dinner came, you found that you were nervous for some reason. Myleth had come and dressed you up in a beautiful gown that seemed a little too grand for the occasion but you didn’t complain about it, leading your father towards the royal quarters. He was kind of awed at everything around him, though you could tell that he was a little worried to see the king again.

He needn’t have been as Thranduil was oh so very gracious as he rose from the table to greet you both. He seated the both of you before he re-took his spot and the meal was started.

A surprisingly easy conversation passed as the rest was caught up on, and your father finally told the tale of how he had ended up behind bars again in the first place. You felt a little responsible but you reminded yourself that everything was okay now. It had worked out and he was safe. You were all safe.

However, as you sat there passing the meal with your father, Thranduil and Legolas, you noticed that something seemed a little off. Whenever Thranduil would meet your gaze, he would immediately look away and, if you didn’t know any better, you’d have said he even looked a little uncertain.

Once the meal was done, you rose from the table and offered Thranduil a smile. He smiled back but he seemed distracted as he gestured towards your father. “I have a few things I wish to discuss with your father.”

“Oh. Okay.” You nodded, glancing at Thranduil and then at Legolas before turning back to your father. “Should I wait for y-?”

“That will not be necessary.” Thranduil said and you flicked your attention back to him, feeling as though you were being dismissed.

You did your best not to pout, wondering if something was wrong but you just nodded, smiled again, and turned for the door. “If anybody needs me, I will be in the library.” You said as you left, figuring that nobody would.

The door of the library opened a few hours later. You jumped, a little startled, having been quite lost in your thoughts. The open book you’d been staring at on your lap was forgotten as you twisted around, watching Thranduil as he moved inside and over to you.

You watched him, suddenly aware that you had not really seen him in a few days, since your father was brought here. You missed him and the thought made you smile, forgetting for a brief moment the worries that had taken root in you over dinner.

“Reading anything good?” He asked, coming to stand beside you.

You shrugged, closing the book so he could see the cover. It was the copy of Beren and Luthien that he had gifted to you - it felt like so long ago now with everything that had happened since.

He hummed, smiling, and you watched him for a long moment before you spoke again. “Is something wrong?” You wondered softly.

Thranduil looked from the book to your face, tilting his head as he took in your exression and your quiet tone. He realised then that you looked unhappy. “No.” He shook his head, crouching down by your side, reaching for your hands. “No, of course not, what would be wrong?”

You shrugged, looking down at his hands in yours with a little sigh. “I just... thought maybe...” You didn’t really know what to say so you trailed off for a long moment before continuing. “You seemed distracted. At dinner.”

“Ah.” He nodded, his mouth twitching then as he looked back at you. His eyes were bright as he took you in and you blinked back at him, wondering at the slight change in him.

“No.” He assured you quickly, leaning in to kiss you softly. You relaxed somewhat, allowing your eyes to drift shut as you kissed him back. If he was sending you back to your village and ending this whole thing, he wouldn’t be kissing you, would he?

“I thought maybe...” You continued as he pulled away, lifting his hand and tenderly brushing some strands of hair out of your eyes. “You might have been having second thoughts.”

“About what?” He asked quietly, studying your face closely.

You shrugged again. “Um... about... maybe you wanted me to leave.”

Thranduil’s brows knitted together and his mouth dropped open just slightly in surprise. “Why would you think such a thing?”

“I don’t know.” You sighed, feeling silly as you squirmed under his gaze in the silence that followed.

When you looked up to meet his eyes, you thought you saw tears. You straightened immediately. “Oh, no! No, don’t be upset, I... I’m sorry! I was just being-”

He swiftly cut you off with firm kiss. You sighed into his mouth as you wrapped your arms around his neck.

When he pulled away again, he was smiling. “You were being silly.” He finished your sentence for you, levelling you with an amused smile. “I have no wish to send you away. In fact... I want nothing more than for you to stay with me. I need you to stay with me. I was not shutting you out, little human, I was making sure everything was perfect.”

“What do you mean?” You asked quietly, but you were smiling now too, his words making you feel better.

“I wanted to do it all properly. So I... I asked Myleth to find you a dress and I was asking your father...”

He trailed off then, glancing down at your hands, and you blinked at him, tilting your head curiously. “What?”

Thranduil looked back up at you, letting go of your hands as he reached into the pocket of his robe and pulled out a small carved wooden box. “I was asking your father... if he would be okay with me asking... for your hand in marriage.”

You were not sure what you were expecting but you knew for sure that it wasn’t that and you stared at him, completely stunned. Tears began to blur your vision as Thranduil opened the box, producing a ring wrought of silver, with tiny ruby coloured gems, all entwined with the banding to look like roses. He took it from the box and held it up in between you both and then looked up into your eyes.

“Would you?” He asked, voice practically a whisper, sounding suddenly so very unsure. “Would you stay here and marry me?”

You laughed then because how was it even a question?

“Thranduil...” You breathed, reaching up to brush away the tears that had started to fall. “Of course I will, I... nothing would make me happier!” You cried, shaking your head as you practically leapt at him, attacking his mouth with your own.

Thranduil laughed, gathering you up into his lap and kissing you senseless.

The old Thranduil would have allowed all of his earlier doubts to control every single one of his actions. He would have drowned in them and never resurfaced. He would have turned it into anger and he would probably have done what you feared and sent you away. He would have stayed in his bubble of misery and denied himself every happiness.

The Thranduil sitting here now had been changed. Your arrival had changed him. Every day he encountered you since had changed him. He had grown to understand that denying this happiness because of a future pain would only double it. He wanted you with him and that was all there was to it right now. Yes, you would both need to talk, there was still a lot to discuss, but right now he didn’t want to think about any of it.

“You have made me very happy.” He told you when he finally pulled away, sliding the ring onto your finger and then standing. He offered his hand to help you up but then swept you off your feet and into his arms, chuckling as you squealed.

He carried you through the hallways of his realm, oblivious to all the watchful eyes he passed by, and carried you back up the stairs to royal chambers.

That night, Thranduil took you to his own bed, where he happily worshipped you until you eventually collapsed into the most blissful slumber you had ever experienced.

[definitelydoubting]

1: “It’s not too late, let’s go.”

Fictober 2023

Fandom: Hellblazer

Rating: T

Chas looks good in black.

It was an unwarranted thought that had John feeling guilty as soon as it happened. Only John could look at a friend and decide that grief was a good look on them.

The day that Queenie had died, Chas couldn’t have looked more relieved. But here, huddled in close proximity to Constantine, he wore a puzzling sort of anguish. Maybe out of obligation if nothing else. Here, catching a break from the small group around Queenie’s casket, it leans more towards the guilty side of things than the strange sombre look he wore during the eulogy.

John couldn’t imagine the “proper” look one is supposed to have during their mothers funeral. He was too young to remember his own, after all. Whatever it is, Chas is making a proper go of it, however undeserving she was.

When Chas dragged John away with him, John was expecting a conversation. Chas elects to stare instead. He stares at the casket, and then back at John, and his gaze softens. It’s melancholy again, with a tinge of affection, and John has no idea what to do with that.

“You know what’s funny?” Chas finally murmurs. John chuckles, sardonic. Shakes his head.

“I’m still upset. I’m glad she’s gone but I’m still upset.” His lip twitches down a notch, “Isn’t that stupid?” He doesn’t sound like he’s looking for a response.

“Your mother was a cunt, Chas.”

“Yeah, but she was still my mum.” John thinks about his own father then, and the child that was still desperately clawing for his affection. Some part of him still, that craved what he never deserved. They were hopeless bastards, the two of them.

“Yeah. I get it.”

They’re silent again, and John tries not to squirm with it. The air was too heavy. Chas breathed in a lungful of it;

“I know this magic stuff is important to you.” No. ‘But John, I…” He sighs, looking back at the casket now being lowered into the ground. The first throw of dirt goes on, and John feels like he’s suffocating.

“I’m not like your mum, Chas.,” John spits, feeling offended at even the implication. He hates even more; the idea that Chas could be afraid of him.

“Never said you are.”

“Then what are you saying?”

“Just, Johnny, do you have to keep doing this?” His eyes are so earnest it’s painful, and John finds himself stumbling for a cigarette, “It’s not too late to stop. We could go anywhere, away from here.”

“You sound ridiculous, mate.” The sharp slice of the shovel continued monotonously in the background. He flicks open his lighter.

“If you keep doing this, what will happen to you?” His voice is colder now, John feels cold.

“Where did this come from?”

“How about the body lying in a fucking casket?”

“You just remember, mate, that you wanted her dead more than anyone.”

“John-”

“I reckon you owe me, even. Without me, you’d still be stuck with her. Maybe you’d be dead.”

“That’s not what this is about and you know it.,” He does.

“Yeah? Then tell me, mate. Where would we go? What would we do?” He takes a fitful puff, nearly chokes on it.

“Anywhere. Anything.”

“Right, so you have all this figured out then.” He chuckles sarcastically, each breath accentuated by a puff of smoke.

“No, but John. If this continues..” Chas looks almost desperate, then he looks angry.

“And are you going to leave if I don’t?” He tries to play it off as sharp, takes another drag to aid himself. Chas’ expression cracks slightly,

“You know I won’t.,” He sounds sad when he says it, and Chas so rarely sounds that way out in the open like this.

“You don’t have to be involved.” John attempts to reassure him, but he falls short of the mark. There’s more that he wants to say. And as always, he can’t. Chas huffs, running a hand through his hair,

“Just hand me a bloody cigarette.”

He does.

[ask-healthy-light]

To the surprise of none of the others, Light and Ember both loudly snorted and shook their heads in response to Boom's comment, which quite upset him, but only for a brief moment, as he knew too well that they were correct; but while the rest of the group reacted similarly, Shining just gestured to Nox when he turned around without uttering another word, as he thought about what he had been told.

The only one in the group that dared to give Boom a little kindness at that moment was Courage, who slowly wandered over, quietly whining as he tried to climb into his lap, only for Boom to turn away from him instead, feeling his heartbeat quicken as he fearfully waited for Shining's judgement; but the Pup just continued to push his head against his side, until Boom relented with an immense sigh.

As a small and warm smile slowly returned to his tear-stained face, Shining and Nox spoke with each other about Boom, but while Nox whispered to Shining, he did not have to utter a single word to her in return, as he knew that she could tell what he was thinking; but he still listened to Nox as she told him of what she saw, and the fact that she noticed no lies within any part of Boom's accounts.

The longer that Shining listened to Nox, and looked at Boom so gently caring for such a little Pup, the more he became certain of his judgement, even if he knew not whether it would upset the rest of the group, who now clearly viewed their companion with suspicion; but only after Nox asked him what he thought of the entire ordeal did Shining speak again, and tell her that he had made up his mind.

Although Nox briefly expected a chill to run down her back when Shining solemnly let her know, this did not happen, and in place of the fear and concern that she dreaded would follow, she felt peace, and warmth, and she felt strange, in a good way; and as Shining got up to talk to Boom, for a split second, she thought she saw a bright glow surrounding him, which reminded her of the Crystal Heart.

But the aura vanished as soon as she blinked, and she only saw Shining calmly walking towards Boom, yet for reasons she could not understand, not only she was reminded of her Mother and Aunt, but she also felt safer than before, as if Shining had now gained an aura of tranquillity like herself; and even Light and Summer, and Inferno and Ember all immediately relaxed as Shining wandered past them.

Unfortunately, although the others all now appeared to feel more at ease, this was not so for Boom, as he only became increasingly distressed as he continued to gently pet Courage on his little head, until Shining quietly and sincerely asked him to turn around; and after he shyly nodded to Shining, the others listened as Boom got choked up when he told Courage to go see Nox, and to stay with her.

The heartbreaking sight of Courage shaking his head to Boom as both of them started to cry, and the Pink Pup's sombre walk back to Nox, who was standing some distance away from Boom, brought tears to the eyes of the others, even to Ember and Shining, who had not even dropped their facades; and only after Boom had cleaned his face of tears did he stand up and turn around to look at Shining Armour.

Though the expression the Lord of the Empire wore upon his face was sincere, and kind, Boom figured that he was merely using it to hide his merciless fury, as he expected Shining to judge him harshly for all that he had done, regardless of the outcome he had avoided; but almost immediately, Shining could tell that Boom was worried, and he kindly told him not to fret as a smile grew upon his face.

As Boom confusedly stared at Shining, he turned around to glance at Light and Nox, who was standing by their side again with Courage on her back, before he told Boom that he had indeed caused immense destruction and harm to the Empire; but if what he told them was true, he had single-hoofedly saved countless lives from the assault of the Marauders, all at the expense of his own health and safety.

In turn, as he reached out his hoof, he admitted that he would need more time, before he said:

"Let us first rid ourselves of the Marauders, together. Only then, I believe, can I judge fairly."

(Thanks for reading! And if you enjoyed, please reblog! Thanks in advance!)

Send an ask or request! | Start at the beginning! | Next part!

Featuring: Nox Lunarwing from @nox-lunarwing Boomlord from @thedumbguywithaheart43

[moonmaiden1996]

The Dance Aemond x Reader x Osferth

Despite you best efforts you still felt a deep worry gnawing inside you. You were not the most devoted of subjects of the faith but the revelation in the weeks behind made you worry. Frankly, you preferred the old religion of your mother before she converted for your father. Yet, it still made you uneasy. Gods do not like to be trifled with, but then again Targaryen were as close as you could get to a God, you mused as you sipped your wine.

Osferth seemed to ease himself back in royal life, taking great pleasure to attend all the events The Seven and the royal family arranged to milk the trio's popularity with the mass for all it was worth. In the brief minutes alone he would whisper the sweet nothing in your ear that it was just till you were wed.

"Hmm? "you hummed broken from your thoughts, you frowned as you look about the group of ladies.

"I said you do realise he will make you have relation through a hole in the bed sheets. Your pious future husband." your sister cackled, the smell of sweet wine filled the air. "While I admit he is charm he must be very boring. Least you have Aemond. I'm sure  he is a dragon in between the sheets. Pity about the face. Maybe you could lay on Osferth and let Aemond do you for behind." Your sister bellowed, spilling the regents of her goblet down her dress, not that she noticed.

Frowning you snatched her goblet before she could call for a servant.

"My Lady..." Aemond deep voice pulled your sister from her drunken giggle, leaving a sombre silence to fill the table.

You said nothing as he pulled you from the table to falling into step behind him as you were drag through the hall, secret looked stolen at your retreated figures.

"Forgive her, my prince... She is drunk...she does not mean it." You soothed as you were dragged to a halt at the bottom of the main steps.

"That cackling witch is lucky she’s your sister or I'd have her tongue ripped from her mouth." Aemond spat pacing back and forth, pale locks clustering in the air as he moved.

Nibbling on your bottom lip, you tentatively reached a hand to halt his frantic pacing’s. His violet eye falling on you as his warm hand ghosted over yours.

"Ahh there you are, my darling, the dancing is starting the Septon would like you to open the festivities." The Queen smiled, her green dress swishing as she proffered her arm, warm brown eyes softening as Aemond recoiled quickly, his hand returning to clasp around his back, his violet eye returning to stare at the floor. "And we must not disappoint the Septon."

"My Queen perhaps instead..." You started

"Go." Aemond muttered, cutting you off, "No one wants to see a crippled monster dance.”

"Come my dear, we must not keep everyone waiting", the queen offered a tight smile, eyes filled with saddens as her arm encircled yours leading you back into the hall.

Xxxxx

Osferth was waiting on the floor for you, smiling in adoration as you Met him."My light..." he greeted as he placed his arm conservatively around you, his other hand to the small of your back, but instead of his warm figure silky cloth covered your are back.

"A gentleman would never touch a good ladies bare skin... at least not before they are married." Osferth blushed, beaming at you with his effortless grin at your confused expression. "I cannot wait to feel your warmth in my arms when we wed." Osferth blushed deepened as he twirled you.

"... I long for that too..." you gasped as you felt his pinky stray to your bare flesh, never had you been so happy for the other couples to join you on the floor to hide the darkening of your eyes and the beating of your chest.

You trembled his arms as his own blushed deepened as you passed the loving crowd sighed in awe at the dashing, chivalrous prince. Normally you would bow your head to ignore the comment but the violet gaze of your dark prince who clung to the shadows at the foot of his fathers crown captivated you far more then the simmering crowd.

"My prince..." you mumbled, as you eyed his brother over his shoulder.

"Osferth, my light." He cooed, swiping you into an elegant step across the floor.

"Osferth...My Golden Prince." Your heart nearly burst as the smile that surge upon his lips.  "We has danced together every night since we were betrothed yet I have not danced with Aemond... I am always snatched way.’’ You pouted.

''And you would like to dance with your other prince" Osferth laughed, pulling you tighter, tight enough you could almost feel the warmth oh him flushed against you. "Your not angry?"

"How can I be angry at my light for wanting to dance with her other prince? He has sulked about nothing else these past weeks. Let me deliver you to him.” You laughed as halfway through the music, Osferth readily directed you to Aemond through the throngs of dancing couples.

"Your betrothed would like a dance." Osferth smiled clasping his brother on the back.

"Hmmm." Aemond glared from down the bridge of his  nose.

"Please, my dark prince." The candles of the great hall flickered in his violet eye, as wave of emotion swirled within his purple depths, attentively he took your hand, moving you towards towards the floor.

"You will not find me as gallant as my dear brother.” He growled darkly and his arms encircled you "I have no hanky to shield your skin from my beastly touch." He starred down at you, face an impenetrable facade.

"I am glad... I yearn for your touch... my dark prince" you blush, under his penetrating gaze.

"I think my brother was wrong...your not an angel your are a temptress. "Aemond smiled, his first real smile blooming his face as he dipped you.

It is a common misconception the Aemond Targaryen did not smile when his Lady wife was in his prince he could scarcely not smile.

Please like and comment. I might go smutty for the next on...maybe some Aegon taunting his little brothers

@chainsawangel @afro-hispwriter @cookiesanddamilk @multitargaryen

[triple-asstro]

SPOILERS FOR CRUELLA THE MOVIE

(srs, it's such a good movie plus the fashion- omg.)

SO- I have this thought at like, one in the morning. You know that scene in Cruella where Cruella falls into the ocean after being pushed into by the Baroness? Well....

summary: y/n, (as Cruella) gets pushed into the ocean by the baroness while rise!raph watches in the crowd.

The sound of crashing waves and the sight of the gloomy night sky accompanied you as you heard the sounds of crunched-up gravel coming up behind you. Turning around, you saw the Baroness, staring at you with contempt.

"Hello, Cruella."

"Yeah, I'm sorry for interrupting your party but, I've come to evict you," you said, holding a long chain with a key to the end.

"Don't be absurd," The Baroness said, chuckling to herself.

Smiling to yourself, you raised the key up as you saw the Baroness's smug expression slowly fade. "This is the key, that was in the necklace, that unlocks the box my birth certificate was in."

"Hello, Mother."

The Baroness looked speechless, her eyes darting around the place, searching for an answer. An explanation. You simply petted the dog next to you and watched until her face turned into a sombre one.

"It all makes sense now," she said, quietly walking towards you, who had a confused look on your face.

"What?"

"That you're so extraordinary, of course. You're mine."

She began to silently walk towards you, gesturing her hands forward. "I've longed for someone in my life who was as good as me."

"You left me to die."

"A mistake- and one we can get past," she stammered, making her way ever so closer. "I know it."

"I disagree."

The Baroness paused, letting the bright lights behind her inside the mansion illuminate through. "You're not here for revenge; you're here because you're a brilliant designer and a wicked genius and you need to be among your own kind."

"Me, your real mother, who made a mistake. And let something extraordinary go."

You simply stared at her, twiddling the key with your fingers and feeling the soft breeze of ocean air flow over your back when suddenly, the whole garden area and entrance began to fill with people from the rich social yokai elites to one concerned disguised turtle staring at you with concern. But of course, you didn't say a word.

"And, I'm sorry."

"You are?" you asked, your voice slightly cracking and trembling.

"Yes, I am," she said, looking into your eyes with sadness and regret. "Can I hug you?"

Even though every logical thought in your mind told you to say no, something inside of you made you mutter: "Yes."

With a big smile on her face, The Baroness started to walk towards you with her arms extended out for a hug.

"You're not going to push me off the cliff, are you?"

"You're so funny, dear. So funny, I love it." she sighed, wrapping you into a soft embrace. As you rested your head on her shoulder, something felt like it clicked. Almost like this was a moment that you were anticipating, that you dreamed of. And now it was here. You were finally hugging your mom.

As she let you go to caress your face, it seemed like this was the moment you wanted. That you needed.

"Idiot."

[merakicharm]

(Takes place after the attack on Mr Choi Gang-u by Lee Yeong Ho in place of Kim Min Joon in episode 16)

"But why did Lee Yeong Ho have Ko Jin Cheol's cellphone with him in the first place?" Ha-ri wondered aloud.

"I think... he was planning on finishing me and turning himself in, saying Joo Hyeongi instigated him to do it" Kim Min Joon rose from his seat with a sombre expression.

Ha-ri's heart stuttered at that.

"Is he insane?" she thundered, springing up from her own chair, startling, Nu-ri, Cheetah and Kim Min Joon himself. "Is he so loyal to Chairman Cha?? Even if that man tells him to kill himself he'll do that also? Arghhh!! This is so annoying!"

The three men around her looked at each other and then back at her. Kim Min Joon cleared his throat, and Nu-ri and Cheetahsshi gave each other sly glances. But Ha-ri was too worked up to notice either of them. Striding forward with clenched fists, she threw a punch at the wall, scrunching her eyes shut and expecting the grating pain and ready to welcome it. Pain could distract her from this crazy guy and his even more crazy plans. And perhaps the rush of some other emotions she felt too.

But the hit didn't cause even the remotest feeling of pain. Instead, she felt something soft around her hand. Opening her eyes, she found her fist trapped within Kim Min Joon's larger gentler hand. Cheetahsshi and Nu-ri were staring at the sight with barely suppressed grins.

"That's enough Ha-ri-ssi. I thought I told you not to hurt yourself?" Kim Min Joon was staring into her eyes, eyebrows quirked. She scowled at him. "Yahh! Let go of my hand!"

"Not unless you promise me you won't hurt yourself again"

She scowled even more harshly at that, trying to stare him down. He stared right back at her, unflinching. It was probably when they exceeded more than a minute of staring at each other that Cheetahssi spoke up.

"Uhhh Pentium-ssi, I am exhausted after all that action and drama. I think I'll crash. What about you, Pentium-ssi?"

"Ahh, yes yes, me too. Cheetahsshi, I think I'll sleep too. It's been a long day for me. Not resting won't do my wounds any good either"

In her peripheral vision, she saw them slinking out of the room, quiet and subtle. But really, she was more focused on the man in front of her than the two leaving.

In a very low voice that oozed threat and danger, she enunciated each word.

"Kim Min Joon. Let go of my hand. Right now."

Kim Min Joon simply stared down at her. And that infuriated her too. He was so tall and handsome with lips that looked so kissable and eyes which held so many promises. They were staring at her right now. Ha-ri saw love and worry in them. His eyes were always worried when they found her in a tough or vulnerable position.

Finally relenting, "It won't hurt me all that much", she said in a softer tone. Kim Min Joon had not moved or spoken yet. He was eyeing her silently, hand still clasped within his. Ha-ri stepped closer and closer, watching him for any reaction. His eyes simply followed her. She came right up to him, the tip of her nose almost touching his chin.

"Min Joonah," she whispered.

He inhaled sharply at that.

Now that she was so near him, Ha-ri felt that undeniable urge to touch him, hug him, pat him, anything which allowed her to be ensured of his physical presence and most of all, safety.

Self control Ha-ri, self control. Self-control Ha-ri, self-control, self-control, self-control she chanted in her head.

"Min Joonah" she whispered even more softly if possible. Kim Min Joon gulped, bringing her attention to his Adam's apple bobbing up and down. Some primal thirst in her flared and she ended up gulping herself. Kim Min Joon looked down at the movement and then raised his eyes to her eyes and then back down to her lips. He slowly loosened his grip on her hand, letting go altogether. Ha-ri rested her hand on his waist.

"Ha-ri"

There was warning in his voice.

"That sounds nicer" she observed.

"You like it when I call you by your name? Without any honorifics?" he questioned her.

"Ah ahh," Ha-ri gaped. She hadn't realised she was talking aloud. Pursing her lips, she stared mutely at him. A smirk was fast making its way onto his face.

"It's not like that! Yahh!"

"Ha-ri. Ha-ri. Ha-ri."

"Kim Min Joon!!" she huffed.

"Ha-ri. Ha-ri. Ha-ri. Ha-ri. Ha-"

Min Joon's chanting was abruptly brought to an end when Ha-ri with both her hands pulled at his collar, dragged him to her level and pressed her lips against his plush ones. For a few moments, there was really no response from Min Joon.

"Min Joonah, if you didn't like that, I am sorry" she apologized rapidly, stepping back and away from him. All along, she had thought this whole thing was mutual and for all his flirting, Min Joon was just as invested in them as she was. She didn't even know if the kiss had been the problem. Maybe he hadn't come around to trusting even her when it came too close to his liking. As ten thousand thousand and more thoughts rushed into her head, she felt Kim Min Joon's eyes on her. It made her feel sad and anxious now, after his blatant refusal of her.

Just as she was about to turn away, a pair of strong hands grabbed her waist and pulled her to Kim Min Joon. Startled, she stared up at him. He was breathing deeply, eyes fixed on her alone.

"Ha-ri"

The teasing was gone. In its place was barely concealed urgency.

"Min Joon?" she sounded unsure.

Hands still clutching her waist, he held her impossibly close to him. Bending down, he laid his forehead on hers.

"Ha-ri"

"Min Joon" she whispered back.

"Ha-ri" he raised his head and stared at her lips.

"Can I?" he stared into her eyes. She nodded. Very slowly, Min Joon closed the distance between them, until he was an inch away from her lips.

"Ha-ri-ah" he murmured and then they were kissing.

To be kissed by Kim Min Joon made her feel as if she was in the seventh heaven of delight. Fireworks went off and off in the back of her head. Ha-ri closed her eyes tightly, and grabbed at the hem of his shirt, fisting it hard. The way he did it so flawlessly, so perfectly irked her.

Am I not the first woman he's dated? she thought angrily to herself. The thought made her nip harshly at Min Joon's bottom lip, causing him to pull away and stare at her, confused.

"What's wrong?"

Apparently, her face practically announced that she was angry.

"Nothing" She was still clutching at his hem but looked away in embarrassment. One hand still on her hips, Kim Min Joon used his other hand to guide her face back to him

"Tell me what's wrong" Kim Min Joon's voice was soft and gentle. That made her even more embarrassed. She kept mum.

"Please?" he whined softly, palm flat against her cheek now.

"This was not your first time, was it?" she asked, somewhat petulantly.

Whatever Kim Min Joon had been expecting, this definitely had not been it.

"Huh?"

"What?" she shot back. Min Joon's eyes widened at her tone.

"Ok ok, I did have a girlfriend or two back in Germany, but never a serious relationship with any of them, alright? I didn't love them"

It was on the tip of Ha-ri's tongue to ask her whether they were pretty. Prettier than her. But Min Joon beat her to it.

"And before you even think about it, they were nowhere near as beautiful as you" he smiled at her

"As if!" she scoffed.

Min Joon laughed softly. That irritated Ha-ri. She lunged for his lips a second time, kissing him so fiercely he almost lost his balance and stumbled. Once again, she nipped at his lips.

Min Joon broke off laughing loud and like bells chiming.

"You really are a fierce lady Jang Hari-ssi!"

Ha-ri smiled an annoyed smile at him and then wrapped her arms around him, embracing him softly. His gentle arms wrapped around her slim built in a minute, pulling her closer. She rested her head against his chiselled chest, comforted and comfortable.

[racfoam]

sometimes I just open OOTP and write additional nynn things into the existing material.

For example:

Fred got up again and moved restlessly to the window, staring out across the dark grounds.

“You know, Quidditch was about the only thing in this place worth staying for.”

(for example, while Hermione scolds the twins, this is what Harry is thinking)

Harry tensed, shoulders and spine stiffening up. Unwillingly, she recalled Voldemort’s words to her regarding not just Hogwarts, but regarding studies themselves.

“Hogwarts doesn’t teach you quite enough about magic. It isn't the school’s fault. There is so many years you can spend teaching basic magic and how to control it. That's why there is so many post-Hogwarts training and studies for Healers and Aurors — what Hogwarts teaches barely scratches the surface of the spells and potions you require in those fields. I would have taught you more than seven basic years of Hogwarts curriculum. Why do you think your friend reads so extensively? Because the main material isn’t enough. It doesn’t cover every spell. I would teach you so much, Harry. If only you’d let me.”

Sometimes, Harry wondered whether staying at Hogwarts was worth it, too. Every year seemed to be personally inclined to try to make it difficult on Harry’s mentality. Not on the learning or curriculum, no, but the events themselves.

“Well, it does!” Hermione said impatiently, very loudly, pulling Harry out of her thoughts. “It’s only a game, isn't it?”

Fred and George gaped at Hermione in disbelief.

Harry knew Hermione never understood people's love for Quidditch, but something inside her reared back in mild offence.

Only a game? Only a...

It wasn't only a game. Quidditch was... Chasing that Snitch... flying through the air... Only there, up in the sky, did Harry feel truly free. Only there was she simply Harry, not the Girl Who Lived, or Lord Voldemort's soulmate, but Harry, the Gryffindor's Seeker. Only there, up in the sky, did all those burdens on Harry's shoulders vanish, remaining left behind, on the ground.

It wasn’t only a game. Not to Harry, anyway.

“Hermione,” said Harry, shaking her head, “you’re good on feelings and stuff, but you just don’t understand about Quidditch.”

“Maybe not,” said Hermione darkly, returning to her translation again, “but at least my happiness doesn’t depend on Ron’s goalkeeping ability." Hermione gave a pointed look to Harry. “And anything that makes my best friend cry isn't something I like.”

The reminder she was banned from playing Quidditch for life — might as well willingly go to Voldemort at this point — soured Harry's mood again. Turning quiet and sombre once more, Harry said nothing, stubbornly focusing back on her homework.

Additional Ginny

“Good catch,” Harry told Ginny back in the common room, where the atmosphere closely resembled that of a particularly dismal funeral.

“I was lucky,” Ginny shrugged. “It wasn’t a very fast Snitch and Summerby’s got a cold, he sneezed and closed his eyes at exactly the wrong moment. Anyway, once you’re back on the team —”

“Ginny, I’ve got a lifelong ban.”

“You’re banned as long as Umbridge is in the school,” Ginny corrected her.

Harry forced a laugh; it wasn't as bright as she imagined it in her head.

“Planning to off Umbridge, are you?” teased Harry, grinning.

“Yes,” said Ginny very seriously. “I've been discussing it with Angelina, Alicia and Katie.”

Harry thought it was a joke. She stared at Ginny with a sort of “you're pulling my leg” smile. The grave, deadly expression and burning flames in the eyes remained on Ginny. The smile faded, and Harry gulped heavily.

Ginny was not joking.

------

AN: I'm grabbing a baseball bat to kill Umbridge with at this point. Who's with me?

Also, Harry thinking it's the end of the world because she's banned from Quidditch and thinking she might as well go to Voldemort at this point is true to teenage spirit.