#inspired by the fact that he can’t escape my grasp <3

[ahyuggg]

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(good luck to all aventurine wanters!!🍀)

[jessamine-rose]

♙ ♘ ♗ Chess Piece ♖ ♕ ♔

………..hi. I would like to present the side story to Disjecta Membra, a collection of bonus scenes + epilogue told from Pierro’s POV. Do enjoy this fic and suffer  ૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა

A big thank you to @diodellet for her peer review, @frogchiro for her help in my Pierro characterization, and @seakicker for the fic inspiration!! I’m still questioning how I ended up writing for the Jester, and you can thank them for making it possible <3

Tw:: YANDERE, unhealthy relationships, kidnapping, coercion, blood, violence, death, psychological trauma, self-deprecation, alcohol consumption, Dottore is here, spice, mention of nsfw, MINORS DNI

Note:: Female reader who is a fallen goddess, pre-release Pierro

♡ 5.4k words under the cut ♡

i. pawn

The entire forest is consumed by mist.

He walks down the path, maneuvering around the haze. As the mist shifts, he rushes to an unobscured patch of grass to elude its grasp.

Another blind spot. How many more areas are free from her surveillance?

Knowing his savior, she’d detect his location once the mist touches him. Despite their heart-to-heart conversations, the fact remains that his life is in a god’s hands. It would be good to know the way around the forest without her guidance.

Remain vigilant. If he isn’t careful, he may end up like the lost animals ensnared in her hunting traps.

After a few more blind spots, he finds a familiar stone path. The area is cleared of mist to reveal weathered gravestones and deep blue flowers. He walks along the perimeter and stops in the heart of the cemetery, where a veiled figure is sweeping the fallen leaves.

He hides behind the trees.

In her human guise, the God of Mist is indistinguishable from an ordinary human. Her expression is solemn as she cleans and greets each gravestone.

“Fane.”

“Kay.”

“Algos.”

“Charis.”

And so on. Such devotion to one’s followers is unheard of; then again, the mere fact of ______’s kindness sets her apart from the gods who destroyed his nation.

Her friends and followers are fortunate to have a peaceful resting place. If only he could say the same for his own compatriots.

The statues are next. She approaches the shorter figure and plucks the dead flowers out of its cracks. Her voice takes on a lighter tone.

“Pasithea, your flowers have outnumbered mine. I can’t tell if it’s because yours are multiplying or if mine are dying out. Either way, you’re as competitive as always.”

A bitter laugh escapes her lips. She lifts her veil.

The Khaenri’ahn peers closer at her face. This is an expression which he has never seen during their meals together. The smiles directed at him are usually gentle and uplifting, never this desolate. When she greets the other statue, her smile disappears completely.

“Hello, Oizys,” she whispers. “Happy birthday.”

He tenses. Despite ______’s assurance that she holds no grudge against Khaenri’ah, her loss is strongly felt. The Child of Night’s absence looms over them in the tableware he uses, the chores assigned to him, his next destination.

She checks his grave. “Not even a blade of grass? What kind of plant will satisfy you? You’re so picky until now.”

His gaze shifts to the statue’s Claymore. The weapon is real, bearing the telltale marks of a Field Tiller’s attacks. Just how many of his people were cut down by that blade?

“The Khaenri’ahn is doing well,” his savior continues. “It won’t be long until he leaves for Miseria. I know, you’d be furious…but what do you expect me to do? How could I leave that poor thing to die?”

That poor thing.

He can’t tell if he feels more relieved or offended by that statement.

“...I’m sorry.” She disperses the mist around the statue’s eyes, meeting its discolored gaze. Her voice shakes as she looks around the cemetery. “You…all of you know that, right?”

How long has she been weighed down by grief? Is this not the same person who claimed he would one day move on from the calamity?

All of a sudden, the mist rises. The Khaenri’ahn huddles closer to the tree to avoid it. Through the haze, he watches as ______ stomps on the barren grave and bursts into tears.

“Why did you even bother to come home?!” she shouts. “To see me one last time? To put a stop to my waiting? To…to punish me with the sight of your corpse?!”

Is this what will become of him? Will his vengeance ever amount to recovery?

The statue blankly stares ahead.

Her voice breaks. “It’s not fair that—why did it have to be you? When will it be my turn?!”

Or will he, too, live the rest of his life burdened by his own survival?

The Khaenri’ahn resists the urge to leave his hiding place.

For what feels like ages, the only sounds in the cemetery are the anguished cries of his savior. Still sniffling, she calms the mist and faces the statue again.

“I…I have to leave,” she says softly. She casts a strained smile at her friend’s likeness, cheeks glistening with tears. “I’ll come back with your cake tonight, okay? See you later.”

With that, the statue’s eyes are concealed once more. She sets her broom aside, and the Khaenri’ahn leaves the cemetery.

He is able to retrace his steps without difficulty, but the lingering pain from his injuries is debilitating. Before he can enter the temple, a hoarse voice calls out to him.

“What are you doing outside?” ______ approaches him, her veil back to its usual style. Under the sheer fabric, a frown crosses her face. “I thought I told you to rest.”

Does she suspect anything?

“I needed some fresh air,” he replies, keeping his voice light.

“I see…”

The mist swirls around them. The Khaenri’ahn meets her gaze, holding his breath.

The curiosity in her gaze gives way to concern. “Let me accompany you next time. I don’t like the thought of you wandering the forest alone. What if you get hurt?”

As though she doesn’t already fret over him at the slightest lift of a finger.

He walks past her. “You need not concern yourself with that possibility.”

Spoken too early. Pain suddenly shoots up his broken ankle, causing him to stumble. He almost falls, if not for ______ catching him.

“Are you all right?!”

How humiliating.

He avoids her gaze. “Thank you. You can let go of me now.”

______ is unconvinced. She keeps a firm grip on him and examines his new scars. “Let’s go inside, dear. I’ll check your injuries.”

“If you insist,” he mutters.

…Up close, his savior’s puffy eyes and dried tears are visible under her veil.

“Where were you, anyway?” he asks.

“Oh, me?” The smile doesn’t reach her eyes. “I was just tending to the achlys flowers. Moving on, I’m baking a berry shortcake later. Would you like some?”

He hesitates. “That would be lovely.”

It is futile to offer comfort to someone who clearly refuses it. What could he possibly say to her as one who has just recently lost his own people?

No, that isn’t the right mindset.

If grief will not leave him, he must make it into what fuels his vengeance. Only after his weaknesses are burned away can he become strong enough to rebel against the divine.

He walks through the mist this time.

Only then will he be in a position to wipe her tears.

ii. knight

The religious art is disappointing.

Pierro studies the weathered fresco. It depicts a veiled figure hovering above a crowd of faceless followers, isolated by swirls of mist. The subject’s face is eroded beyond recognition.

She was wrong. None of her sacred depictions can compare to their model.

He touches the figure with a gloved hand. The image is divine, passive, untouchable. He doubts that the original face has the kind eyes and gentle smile from his memories.

“Sergeant Luda.”

A Fatui subordinate rushes towards him, bowing slightly. “Yes, Lord Harbinger?”

Pierro gestures to the fresco. “Extract this painting from the wall and include it in the list of artifacts to be transported to my personal estate. I expect no transit damage.”

“Noted, my lord! Do you have any other orders?”

“I have but one command. Demolish the temple before you leave.”

“Excuse me?” Luda’s tone turns doubtful. “You want us to destroy this place? All of it?”

He gives her a cold look. “Must I repeat myself?”

She bows again. “N-No! Forgive my blunder, Lord Harbinger!”

“That is all, Sergeant.”

With that, Luda quickly stands up and barks a few orders at her coworkers.

Pierro looks around the temple ruins. No mist hovers over ______’s old territory. Several Fatui subordinates are sifting through the debris for surviving artworks and relics.

Would she ever forgive him for erasing her existence from the world? Can he say the same for himself, with the knowledge that he is committing the crime against his homeland?

“My lord!” Another subordinate enters the temple and kneels before him.

“Lieutenant Daniil,” he says. “I presume that Agent Leonid has departed from the forest adjacent to Miseria.”

Daniil nods eagerly. “Correct, sir. According to my spies, Agent Leonid has made a full recovery from his injuries. He and the previous defectors have permanently settled in the city.”

About time that traitor left her company. “Punish the next traitor. The attackers need not follow them this time; just ensure that they reach the forest in a wounded state.”

“Yes, my lord!”

“That will be all.”

Pierro approaches the next set of scattered fragments. The old manuscripts have been reduced to yellow shreds. He pieces together what seems to be a quote by █████ herself.

“May you find refuge in every place where my blood has mixed with the air.”

He smiles to himself.

His savior is truly too kind for her own good. With how easy it has been to orchestrate a hostage situation, ______’s voluntary surrender is guaranteed.

He wonders if she will recognize him during their reunion—or even welcome him, given his new status as the director of the Fatui. If she doesn’t, he will still consider it a pyrrhic victory.

It is only proof that he has outgrown her mercy.

iii. bishop

Their reunion goes as planned.

It doesn’t take long for ______ to accept their new power dynamic. Prior objections aside, she quickly adjusts to her new life as the Jester’s partner. She is an elegant sight in her Snezhnayan dresses and Khaenri’ahn jewelry.

…Pierro does miss their peaceful days of home-cooked meals and friendly conversations. His darling’s fear and respect is as frustrating as it is gratifying. She isn’t afraid to challenge him with moments of petulance.

For what it is worth, she no longer addresses him as “dear” or her other patronizing pet names. At times, their double-sided arguments are quite engaging.

At any rate, his other objective has been achieved. The new resources acquired from ______’s relinquished territory serve more purposes than the Lord of the Hearth’s fire.

“Jester, I come bearing a report on our latest Archon Residue experiment.”

Pierro looks up from his signed documents. “Dottore, I expect impressive results since you took the initiative to request a meeting with me.”

The Doctor closes the door behind him, smiling. “You will be pleased to learn that we are making progress with the remains of the Goddess of Consciousness. Her powers have manifested in the test subjects, albeit their mental faculties remain incoherent.”

Pierro recalls ______’s last visit to Zapolyarny Palace. She didn’t seem to recognize the melody sung by the test subjects.

“Rectify that side effect immediately.”

“As you wish.” Dottore looks up from his research notes and glances at the empty sofa. “Is your darling currently at home?”

“Does her presence have any bearing on your report?” he asks sharply.

“No, it doesn’t. I was merely curious, given that I’ve only had the privilege of meeting her once. Oh, but I did find something very interesting in the test subject’s speech patterns.”

Pierro grips his pen. “Go on.”

“Imagine my curiosity when I noticed a recurring name,” he continues. “‘█████.’ The test subjects kept shouting that name—quite hysterically, I might add. Initially, I brushed them off as an insignificant friend of the deceased god until I made an important recollection.”

Dottore walks over to the sofa and runs his hand along the headrest.

“Do you remember our first meeting, Jester?”

“How is this relevant?” asks Pierro. “I recruited you in Sumeru and you eagerly accepted my offer. I can vividly recall your hysterical reaction to your new title.”

“No, after that. If my memory serves me correctly, you inquired about the House of Daena’s religious archives. After which I noticed a few ancient books and manuscripts amongst your luggage, most of which referenced a divine being known as █████.”

He knows.

Dottore adjusts his mask, a crimson twinkle in his eyes. “I did question your interest in that unknown god. If we can obtain the remains of the God of Mist, as we did with our current specimens and the Lord of the Hearth, I can use—”

“Dottore.”

The air grows cold. The Doctor pauses, meeting Pierro’s glare.

He puts down his pen. “You should know by now that I am not one to entertain baseless assumptions. Moreover, I must address your previous invasion of my privacy.”

“Oh?” Dottore approaches the desk, eyes wide. “I presumed that you could fill in the blanks for me, seeing how none of those ancient texts are listed in the Fatui’s libraries. Shall I ask your darling instead? I heard that you acquired her from the same location which sourced the new Archon Residue specimens.”

Enough of this.

“I advise you to watch your words, Zandik,” says Pierro. “My partner has nothing to do with your little investigation. I do not pry into your private affairs, particularly the Akademiya scholar you have been stalking, so it would do you well to reciprocate the gesture.”

A moment of silence passes.

“Of course. I know better than to pry into forbidden knowledge.” Resigned, Dottore picks up his research notes and flips to another page. “Before I leave, I have another report to share with you.”

Pierro picks up his pen. “Proceed."

“In seemingly unrelated news, I have the results of the chemical test you requested. For the most part, I identified common household substances in the carpet samples you sent me…apart from one compound.”

“And that is?”

“Among the chemical components, I found low traces of Archon Residue.”

So his suspicions were correct.

Dottore’s smile returns. “I wonder how such a substance ended up in your estate. But given your earlier admonishment, I won’t pry into the matter any further.”

Pierro gives him a stern look. “If you have nothing more to report on, you are dismissed.”

“Very well. I bid you a good night.”

With that, Dottore places the research notes on the desk and leaves the office.

That explains the information from his spies.

Pierro reads the second report.

He did find it quite odd that ______ requested an extensive tour of the estate and was later seen with a bandaged thumb. So she had claimed her prison in his absence.

How clever of her.

It was wise of him to lock the doors to his personal quarters. Until it is necessary for him to divulge his awareness of her scheme, he should avoid formal meetings in his estate.

Despite his irritation, he can’t help but feel impressed.

Well-played, ______.

iv. rook

The replicated festival is a success.

Since her birthday, his darling has been more docile. The smiles directed at Pierro are more soft, cheerful, paired with brighter eyes. Their dinner conversations are more relaxed.

However, her kindness remains a double-edged blade.

“Hello, little ones.” ______ crouches down in the snow, a warm smile on her face. “May I know your names?”

The children eagerly crowd around her, small hands grabbing at her dress and veil. One child takes advantage of their eye-level position to play with her necklace, to which she laughs and lightly scolds him.

“No, you can’t have it. It’s from—wait, don’t pull the chain!”

He should have kept her at home.

“Lord Harbinger.” The orphanage caregiver gives Pierro a nervous look. “If the children are bothering your partner, I can send them to their rooms.”

He turns to face them. “There is no need. You may proceed with your report on the next batch of recruits.”

“Thank you for your leniency, my lord!”

Pierro casts a final glance at the courtyard. His darling is managing the children quite well, all things considered. After saving her necklace, she carries the offender and lifts him high above her head. Her laughter has never sounded more lively.

What a heartwarming sight.

He will allow it, so long as she doesn’t object to their fate.

*✧･ﾟ

“You appeared to be in high spirits earlier.”

“Are you referring to the orphans?”

The bedchambers feel less empty with ______’s presence. She lies on her side of the bed, an enthusiastic smile on her face.

“They were adorable! Those precious lambs asked me to participate in all sorts of games. You should have seen little Damien; he kept running around and ‘defeating’ me with a wooden sword.”

Damien Morozov, eight years old. Already shows promise in swordsmanship.

Pierro hangs his coat in his wardrobe. “Are you partial to the company of children?”

“I guess so.” She takes off her veil, eyes dimming. “I used to play with my young followers often. Why do you ask?”

“I was merely curious. You were quite eager to entertain the orphans’ antics.”

Would she be as loving with their own children?

Pierro unlocks the drawer. His old Khaenri’ahn attire remains in good condition. He can still remember the time ______ mended his clothes, requesting permission to cover up the holes with her embroidery. Every little star and diamond seemed to breathe new life into the fabric.

If he is ambitious enough, he can envision it clearly. A new set of embroidered clothes for a smaller frame. A family portrait displayed in their manor. Tiny pupils shaped like four-pointed stars, sparkling with innocence. His darling’s gaze filled with love and devotion.

“Pierro? What are you looking at?”

He closes the drawer. “That is none of your concern.”

______ gives him a suspicious look. “If you say so.”

Now is not the time to entertain such delusions.

The divine rebellion has barely begun. Likewise, so long as his darling remains an unwilling captive, he would be a fool to imagine any semblance of a happy family with her.

It is a tempting thought, however.

Pierro locks the drawer and approaches the bed.

For whatever reason, his darling has morphed into her true form. Her skin is dusted with gray dots and swirls resembling mist. A clear reminder of her divine nature.

His gaze stops at her wrists.

Even with her divine markings, her bruises are evident. The same can be said for the dark blemishes on her hips and knees.

He observes her exposed face this time. It was quite satisfying to provoke those honest expressions out of her. He couldn’t get enough of the look in her eyes.

Neediness, trepidation, absolute submission. All for him.

His hand slams down on the pillow, a few centimeters away from her head.

“Pierro?” She startles, turning her head to face him. “What is it?”

He doesn’t offer an explanation this time, just leans down and kisses her. His other hand pulls down the neckline of her dress.

“Hey…ah! Stop!”

She lightly shoves him, only for her wrist to be easily pinned to the mattress.

Pierro pulls away, ending the kiss. His other hand traces the curve of her chest, eliciting another soft gasp. “Have you taken your contraceptive recently?”

She looks away, biting her lip. “I…”

He puts his hand under her chin, tilting her face upwards. “I asked you a question, ______.”

His darling looks so powerless beneath him. So easy to break. To desecrate.

She nervously meets his gaze. “I…I did.”

“Excellent. Then I don’t need to hold back.”

He sets his own mask aside and kisses her with more fervor.

The Old World is no place for the future of Khaenri’ah. Until absolute peace has been achieved, that dream will have to remain a fantasy.

Until then, his darling’s affection will solely belong to him.

v. queen

The Snezhnayan winters are becoming more frigid.

“Is the temperature of the room to your satisfaction?” Pierro drapes another blanket over his darling’s shoulders. “Inform me if you need another blanket.”

She gives him an exasperated look. “There is no need to coddle me. My human vessel isn’t that frail, you know.”

Says the person who once drowned him in blankets and hot tea on a rainy day.

“The nights will be colder at this time of the year. There is no harm in looking out for your physical health.”

“Then the same can be said for you.” Despite her earlier remark, she wraps herself in the blanket. “Even I can’t stand the Snezhnayan environment. Don’t you get sick of the cold?”

Pierro glances at the window. Outside, another blizzard paints the sky with swirling snow. White, frigid, nothing like Celestia’s sea of flames.

“I am rather impartial to this nation’s climate,” he replies, returning to the sofa.

A chessboard sits on the low table, along with a bottle of fire-water. ______ empties her glass and refills it to the brim.

He raises an eyebrow at her. “I did not take you for one to overindulge in vices.”

Another glass finished. “You drank nearly as much as I did.”

“I know my limits.” He confiscates the bottle and hands her a glass of water. “That is enough wine for you. Any more, and you will make a fool out of yourself later.”

She rolls her eyes, but drinks it and lowers her veil. “All right. Shall we continue our game?”

Regardless, he will be the sole audience to her inebriated theatrics.

“If you are so confident that you can play with a clouded mind.”

His attention returns to the chessboard. ______’s opening move was a direct challenge. No mercy, then.

He moves a black pawn. “Disregarding the climate, you have become well-adjusted to Snezhnaya. I must commend your growth over the previous year.”

“You think so?” She stares at the chessboard, assessing the pieces. “That isn’t a big achievement, seeing how all I’ve done is behave in the estate like a model prisoner.”

A model prisoner who remains strategic.

“I beg to disagree. From what I have seen, your current conduct and level of education are befitting of your new status.”

The expression under her veil is doubtful. “You’re just being nice. My studies, this dress, the title you gave me…it doesn’t make me any more worthy for the New World.”

Her next move is clumsy.

Pierro easily counterattacks. “I shall be the judge of that.”

The game continues. Chess pieces are toppled. With each sequence, the influence of alcohol becomes more apparent. ______ begins to mumble, sway slightly, make bad moves.

“Another loss.” She frowns at her toppled king. “No fair…how are you so good at this game? How many victories would that make for you?”

Pierro touches her cheek. He can feel her warmth through the fabric of his gloves.

“You should rest,” he decides. He places the chess pieces back in their original squares. “Can you walk to the bedchambers on your own or shall I escort you?”

“What a chivalrous offer,” she scoffs. She gathers the sacrificed pawns, only for the pieces to slip out of her loose grasp. “You are insufferable, you know that? Impossible to comprehend…”

He might as well take advantage of her openness. “Why do you say this?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” ______ rests her head on her palm and peers at him with glassy eyes, chess pieces forgotten. “For starters, while you have been concerned about my health all night, I have no doubt that you will scold me tomorrow and make me study despite my hangover.”

“You wouldn’t have to suffer from a hangover if you had drunk less wine,” he shoots back.

She shakes her head. “Honestly, I can’t figure you out. One moment, you’re absolutely cruel and strict towards me; next, you make me so happy that I almost forget our arrangement. It makes me feel so conflicted, the way you treat me…I hate it.”

“So why do you endure it?”

“Huh?”

The office feels more humid. Perhaps she had involuntarily raised her mist.

Pierro holds her arm, forcing her to meet his gaze. “You claim to be a weak deity, yet my research states otherwise. And despite your powers, you have never made an attempt on my life—both in the past and in the present. Why is that?”

She stares back at him, eyes wide behind her veil. “That…”

He glares at her, strengthening his grip. “Are you truly as foolish as you are kind? Or does your mercy stem from pity towards that poor thing you saved all those years ago?”

For a few seconds, his darling is silent. She looks away, her arm limp in his grasp.

“Of course not. I…I just don’t want to get in your way,” she mumbles. Her gaze trains on the medals displayed on the wall. “You’re amazing, you know that? You became stronger…found a new purpose in life…now you’re actively changing the world for the better.”

He could get drunk off her praise.

“So it would be a shame if you lost it all because of me,” she continues. Then she shakes her head, smiling. “But what am I saying? You will never let that happen, no matter your fondness nor gratitude towards me.”

He lets go of her arm. “There is no use in reflecting on that theory.”

“Really now? If the Tsaritsa ever viewed me as an obstacle, would you kill me for her?”

Would he?

When was the last time he found himself at a loss of words? As far as he can recall, it was years ago—back when the Tsaritsa posed a similar question.

-

“The God of Mist? I did not know she was still alive. So she saved you in the past, and now you intend to overthrow her and keep her for yourself.”

Pierro cleared his throat. “I humbly request your permission, Your Majesty. Apart from the elimination of a potential threat, the subjugation of █████ will provide the Fatui with a new territory and invaluable resources.”

“Yes, and I imagine that you recognized every possible benefit prior to this discussion,” she said knowingly. “You have my permission. I trust your judgment.”

“You have my gratitude,” he replied, bowing.

“Oh, but Pierro?”

He looked up to face her. The Tsaritsa was the opposite of his previous savior—pure, sacrosanct, a kindred spirit who had chosen the path of vengeance and revolution. From her lofty throne, she couldn’t look more divine.

Her gaze was cold. “Remember where your loyalties lie.”

Without hesitation, he kneeled before her.

“Of course, Your Majesty.”

-

“It is illogical to compare love and worship,” he finally says. “Do not ask a question you already know the answer to, especially one which you will likely forget in the morning.”

“All right.”

The look on her face shows pure understanding. Yet despite the tears welling up in her eyes—from fear? Disappointment? Heartbreak?—her smile seems genuine.

“I am glad to hear that,” she says, voice trembling. “Any other answer, and you would be no better than a lovesick fool.”

How did she appear during their first chess game? Compared to the savior of his memories, the god before him looks so fragile. Acquiescent. Openly vulnerable.

This time, she doesn’t protest when he lifts her veil. Pierro leans over the table and brushes his thumb against her flushed cheek, wiping away her tears.

“Rest assured, I will never allow such a situation to happen,” he says softly. “My final choice would not be without internal strife.”

After all he has endured, such a scenario would be the greatest loss in his life.

“And why is that?” she asks.

“Because above all, you are the only good thing left of the Old World.”

vi. king

“Pierro.”

“Psst, Pierro.”

“Rise and shine…”

“Wake up!”

At the sensation of the pillow hitting his face, Pierro grimaces and catches her wrist.

“What do you want?” he mutters, opening his eyes.

______ looms over him, eyes faintly glowing in the dark. “Finally, you’re awake.”

He turns to his side and glances at the clock. “Is it already past midnight?”

She gives him a bright smile. “Happy anniversary!”

No wonder.

Pierro lets go of her wrist and sits up, facing the window. The sky is still dim, on the cusp of twilight. The lingering darkness is dotted with stars.

“Did you feel the need to greet me as soon as you woke up?” he asks drily.

Despite her nightgown and bedhead, ______ looks full of energy.

“Yes,” she replies. A proud smile plays across her lips. “This marks the ninety-ninth time I said it first.”

“Don’t look so triumphant,” he tells her. He brushes the loose strands of hair away from his face. “It will take centuries for you to catch up to me.”

“I know. So have mercy on your dear wife and let me have this one victory.”

He might as well. These days, her celebrations are solely limited to their birthdays and milestones. For this day alone, he will let his darling have her fun.

He still hasn’t returned her greeting.

“Happy anniversary,” he says with a soft smile. “Are you going back to sleep?”

She shakes her head. “No, so neither will you. We might as well prepare breakfast now that we’re awake.”

He raises an eyebrow at her. “I saw the menu last week, along with what you planned for lunch and dinner. Wouldn’t you say that our banquet is too much for two people?”

At that, she holds his hand and intertwines their fingers. The dim light is caught in the pale blue gems of their rings.

“Of course not,” she smiles. “After all, we are commemorating the day I was shackled to you for all eternity. Such a tragic event deserves a grand celebration, doesn’t it?”

Pierro presses a kiss against her knuckles. “If you insist.”

How long has it been since their wedding? In her Khaenri’ahn gown, his darling was the most beautiful thing he’d ever laid eyes on. Her happy tears marked her ultimate resignation.

His darling is extra touchy throughout their daily routine. Eye contact in the bathroom mirror. An unruly necklace clasp and corset strings. Fleeting touches as she helps him change into his own suit.

“You may open your gift after breakfast,” Pierro informs her as he puts on his mask. “I believe you will find it to your satisfaction.”

She turns to him, fully dressed. Her divine marks have faded into her human guise. She looks elegant, dignified, perfect for a Harbinger’s spouse.

“How exciting. After all these years, you never fail to surprise me,” she says. “I hope you are equally receptive to your own present.”

Pierro slips an embroidered handkerchief into his pocket, taking a moment to admire the new four-pointed stars. “I can only imagine what design you came up with this year.”

Their daily routine is over. Before they leave the room, ______ faces him and pulls him into her embrace. Her grip is strong.

“Hey, Pierro, how much longer until the rebellion ends?” she asks.

He wraps his arms around her. “Why do you ask?”

Thin wisps of natural mist swirl around them, weak and bloodless.

She leans into him. “Ever since the Fatui began acquiring the Gnoses, you’ve been even busier. Do take a break once in a while. And don’t put yourself in danger, you hear me?”

Her hands tremble. The mist rises, enveloping them in a cold haze.

“I find it insulting that you still entertain those fears,” he shoots back. He steps out of the mist. “As I said years ago, it will take more than a vengeful god or your antics to dispose of me.”

The mist disperses.

“I’ll trust you with that.” ______ releases him, a sincere smile on her face. “The sooner the New World is achieved, the sooner you can rest. And the more time I have with you.”

Under her veil, her eyes shine brighter than the stars. She is still speaking—his real name, whispered in such an adoring, reverent tone.

He should enjoy their special day while it lasts. Once their private party comes to an end, it will be back to work. Back to Zapolyarny Palace, his petulant Harbingers, Her Majesty the Tsaritsa, the future of the New World. But today, he can enjoy the present with his darling.

At the last whisper, he smiles and pulls her closer. Lifts her veil. Silences her with a kiss. Holds her gaze, staring into those hopeful orbs which reflect only him.

“I look forward to it.”

♡

Read the Author’s Note here!!

To think Pierro would end up with the longest, most twistedly wholesome side story…….how tf did that happen ;-; Also hahaha cheers to Dottore appearing in another Harbinger’s fic for the second time. Chemistry reference, anyone?? :>

Thank you to everyone who expressed their love for Disjecta Membra!! I didn’t expect so many ppl to like my version of Pierro and Savior! Darling, and I hope you all enjoyed Chess Piece. Do inform me of your suffering brainrot and consider sharing this to spread the Pierro agenda~

Tag a Pierro enjoyer!! @kocherry @mirdance @victoria1676 @mnemosyneechan @artiifex @pierroswife @fluffy-koalala @lcveaesop @teabutmakeitazure @nicebonescomrades @ansy-tea @oofasleep @leftdestiny-posts @thescribeoflostmemories @elysiasfiance @frostedclementine

Thank you for your interest in reading!! @yandere-romanticaa​ @ddarker-dreams​ @cinnamonest​ @yanmaresu @gum-iie

[fallen-gravity]

storms cause our flowers to bloom

Ollie didn’t even know what happened, right? He probably assumed it was a false alarm and forgot about it as soon as his tracker stopped beeping. Yeah. He’s probably fine.

Even though that doesn’t explain why he suddenly wasn’t up for dancing, even after she came back inside and acted like everything was fine. Or the fact that he seemed like he couldn’t look her in the eyes the entire time the two of them were cleaning up the gym at the end of the night. Yeah.

She’s definitely not feeling any sort of guilt for what she said last night, no siree. It’s for the best. It’s fine. It’s-

The sound of approaching footsteps startles her out of her thoughts so badly that she accidentally slams her locker door shut, and the startled yelp of the person beside her almost sends her to the floor. When she finally finds the nerves to brush herself off and turns to face them, she’s met with the sight of Ollie standing with his head ducked downward like a frightened puppy, grasping a white envelope to his chest.

…make that a white envelope with her name on it.

Notes:

huge shout out to the Twelve (12) people in the friend server who inspired me to write this. Y'all are the best, I love you so much. Thank you all for encouraging my intense writing fever that causes me to spill out like 8k words in the span of three days. I only get those once in a blue moon :3

AO3

The first thing that Molly learns about school dances is that word spreads around about them fast.

It never felt to her like she was in one school long enough to make it to a dance, let alone long enough to hear about all the gossip that circulates after a school dance. She was even more surprised to learn that even the kids who didn’t even show up to the dance in the first place contribute to the gossip, so no matter where Molly turns she can’t escape any of it. 

As a matter of fact, the first thing Molly noticed when she arrived at school was that her locker was covered in paper hearts and little notes congratulating her and, most embarrassingly of them all, someone had gone through the effort to print out the picture she’d taken with Ollie in the makeshift photo booth and tape it right smack in the middle of her locker. She tried to pull some of them off and stick them in her locker to hide them away, but it seemed to her that the more paper hearts she tore down the more that appeared as the day progressed.

The second, and perhaps more important thing that Molly noticed, is that she can’t seem to find Ollie anywhere.

N-not that she’s actively looking for him, or anything, b-but… 

Molly sighs.

It’s so…odd. She was considering staying home from school today after the whole ordeal with Scratch getting stuck in the snare trap, but she ultimately decided against it because she didn’t want to raise suspicion. Ollie didn’t even know what happened, right? He probably assumed it was a false alarm and forgot about it as soon as his tracker stopped beeping. Yeah. He’s probably fine. 

Even though that doesn’t explain why he suddenly wasn’t up for dancing, even after she came back inside and acted like everything was fine. Or the fact that he seemed like he couldn’t look her in the eyes the entire time the two of them were cleaning up the gym at the end of the night. Yeah.

She’s definitely not feeling any sort of guilt for what she said last night, no siree. It’s for the best. It’s fine. It’s-

The sound of approaching footsteps startles her out of her thoughts so badly that she accidentally slams her locker door shut, and the startled yelp of the person beside her almost sends her to the floor. When she finally finds the nerves to brush herself off and turns to face them, she’s met with the sight of Ollie standing with his head ducked downward like a frightened puppy, grasping a white envelope to his chest.

…make that a white envelope with her name on it. 

“M-Molly!” he squeaks, doing his best to brush himself off and correct his posture. "I, uh…I wanted to give this to you earlier, but, uh……” he pauses, and carelessly shoves the envelope into the pocket of his jacket. “I didn’t know if you were going to be in school today, and then I didn’t see you for most of the day anyway, so you know, I figured that maybe you weren’t here, so I was just gonna slip this into your locker, but…what do you know? You are here after all! I guess I carried this around all day for nothing!” He rocks back and forth on his feet uncomfortably. “Oh gourd,” he murmurs, “I’m so sorry about all of that. I guess I have a tendency to overshare too, huh?” he laughs, but Molly can tell that there’s no real emotion behind it. She goes to respond, but stops herself once she fully processes his words.

Ollie thought she wasn’t going to be in school today?

Oh corn, is she really that bad an actor? She could swear that she did her absolute best to make it seem like she was still having a good night, but is she really so readable that he could see right through that?

“Molly?” he asks again, taking a cautious step forward but making no motion to reach out to her.

“Oh!” she squeaks, trying and failing to wave off that kicked puppy look in his eyes with a wave of her hand. “Pssh, because I was so tired from the awesome date we had last night? That’s so sweet of you to check in on me, but really, everything’s fine, I-” 

Ollie flinches when she mentions the word date, and it catches her so off-guard that every thought in her head disappears all at once. 

“I guess we’re both having a pretty rough day, huh?” is what she settles for, because she can’t bring herself to come up with any more convoluted lies when he keeps looking at her like that. 

“Yeah,” he sighs, and finally relaxes his posture. “The truth is that I really just want to talk about…you know, things. Is that okay? C-can we do that right now?”

There’s so much weight in the tone of his voice that she knows, right there, exactly what he wants to talk about. There’s a part of her that wants to run away from the whole ordeal altogether, just bury herself under her covers for the next few days until she feels like it’d be safe to come back out again, but there’s a much louder part of herself that never wants to see that look on Ollie’s face again, the part of her that still yearns for a connection with him, maybe the sort of connection that’s a little bit deeper than friendship, and she’d be a big fat liar if she tried claiming she was driven by anything other than her big heart.

“Sure,” she smiles shyly, and the intense amount of relief that visibly washes over Ollie’s face takes some of the hurt out of her heart already. “We should look for an empty classroom before someone comes by asking for our autograph”

Ollie laughs quietly at that. “You’ve had people coming up to you all day too, huh?” 

“Well, less people flocking up to me and more people covering my entire locker in paper hearts to congratulate me”

Ollie laughs a little brighter at that, and Molly doesn’t miss the way it still makes her heart leap in her chest. “You know, I’m honestly not sure whether I would prefer that to the crowds or not”

Oh, it is so unfair how difficult he’s making things for her. If things were perfect, then she wouldn’t even have to be having this sort of internal debate with herself, because he wouldn’t even be a ghost hunter, and then they’d just be allowed to be as cute a couple as they wanted to be, and the only reason Scratch would have to complain is that he’s grossed out by public displays of affection, and that kind of complaining is something she could just brush off her shoulder with a laugh and a jab in the side.

Not…

“Here,” Ollie’s voice interrupts her thoughts before they can spiral any further. “I don’t think the Art Club is meeting until tomorrow, so we should be okay to talk in here.” He opens the door and gestures for her to enter first, and Molly forces herself to focus on the smell of dried paint and glue wafting from the classroom to stop the rising blush on her face from getting any worse. She sits down at the first seat she finds, and after softly closing the door and locking it, Ollie takes the seat beside her.

For a few moments neither of them say a word, and Molly tries her best not to think about the fact that somewhere out there in another timeline they’d probably be holding hands under the table as they spoke. She spares a glance beside her, just to try and get a read of his expression, but the hints of a soft pink blush on his cheeks lets Molly know he’s probably thinking about the exact same thing.

…Which only makes this whole conversation they need to have a lot harder on her.

Molly takes a deep breath to compose herself, squeezing her hands together to release some tension from her body, but before she can get a single word out, Ollie beats her to it.

“I…” he starts, and squeezes his eyes shut. “I…overheard what you said.”

…and just like that, all of Molly’s collected composure smashes to the ground in thousands of little pieces. 

“W-what?” she tries, but she can’t help but keep the shake out of her voice. Sweet baby corn, has it always been so hot in this classroom, or- “What do you mean you heard me? A-all I did was step out to get some fresh air, I-I don’t-”

“It’s okay,” Ollie replies, cutting her off before she can even begin to come up with a believable lie. “I know you were out there with a friend. I…I already heard what you said, a-about you and I…” his voice starts to fade as the hints of tears glisten in his eyes, but he scrubs at his face before he continues. “A-and, y’know, I wanted to let you know that…you know, I understand, and that I’d never force you into anything that you don’t want, but, uh, I just wanted to let you know that…I know.”

Oh corn, oh corn, oh corn, had he really heard all of that?? Had he really heard that much of her panicked declaration to Scratch that she’d made in the heat of the moment because she was afraid it was all her fault Scratch got caught in the first place, and that she was afraid she’d never see him again? Had Ollie really overheard that she never wanted to see him again?? Is that why he’s been acting so weird?

And why did he say he knows she was with a friend? Was Libby also outside, and Molly hadn’t noticed since she was too scared for Scratch’s safety to think about anybody else? Where there other kids who followed her outside too, and she just hadn’t noticed?

But no, that doesn’t make any sense, because that would make it seem like he heard her talking to someone else, but that doesn’t make any sense either because the only person she could’ve possibly been talking to was Scratch, and she knows for a fact that he was still invisible even with the snare entangling his entire form, so she’s not sure how he could-

“Molly,” Ollie says again, forcing her to open the eyes she hadn’t even realized she’d closed. He grabs her shoulders, firmly but gently. “I know.” He emphasizes that statement by shaking her gently, but strangely enough, doesn’t add anything else. It takes her a moment of staring into his warm eyes to really understand what he’s trying to say, but when realization hits her, it hits her so bad she starts seeing little black spots at the corners of her vision.

I overheard what you said.

I heard you talking to a friend.

I’m not gonna force you into anything you don’t want, but…

He knows.

Oh corn, he knows.

All this time she’s tried to prevent running into him today at school to avoid awkward conversation, and he’s known about Scratch this entire time. 

How could he not? If he had the activation switch for just one of those traps at the dance, there’s no telling what else he had with him. Did he have the Boo Blaster with him? Were there even more complicated traps just around the corner? Did he have ten more, just outside of plain sight? Oh cob, if Ollie saw Scratch even though he was supposed to be invisible, does that mean he had his Ghoul Goggles with him? Does he have them on him right now? Is he waiting for the moment she slips up so he can put them on and look for wherever Scratch could be hiding, even though he didn’t come to school with her today specifically because they were worried about running into Ollie?

What about Scratch? Is he even safe at home anymore? Did Ollie rush home to tell his parents so that they could set all sorts of traps out in front of the McGee house, so Scratch can never feel safe again? Is Scratch gonna have to find some haven elsewhere until things cool down, or until the Chens give up and move away, or until Molly and her family realize they have to move away?

Molly’s not sure she can do that again, not after the month she already had to spend in the woods, not after she finally got comfortable calling Brighton her forever home once and for all, not after…not after…oh sweet baby corn, what’s wrong with the air in this classroom? Has it always been this stuffy? Has it always been this hard to sit still in a-

She collapses to the floor, arms and legs feeling more and more like expired jelly as the seconds slip by, and her vision is so spotty it’s a miracle she even notices Ollie rushing to prevent her head from smacking into the ground at all. It looks like he’s trying to say something, but she really can’t hear him over the loud ringing in her ears, and the more she tries to strain herself to hear him the louder the ringing gets, and the louder the ringing gets the tighter and tighter her chest begins to feel, and for the brief moment her vision starts to go spotty again she has a thought of how cruel and ironic it’d be to die in front of a ghost hunter. 

Though she still can’t really make out any noise, she can just barely make out the sight of Ollie’s shoulders slumping with a sigh. He gives up on talking altogether, and when she feels the soft, warm sensation of Ollie intertwining his hands with hers, a loud gasp escapes her. 

Ollie’s intense, shuttering sigh of relief at the sound of her gasping is what makes Molly realize that the ringing in her ears is gone.

“Oh thank gourd, okay, Molly, can you hear me?” he asks, voice flooded with worry and the choked up nature of someone who’s struggling not to cry. She nods, because her chest hurts too much to try and form any real words. He sighs in relief again, squeezes her hands just a little tighter, and Molly’s not sure whether or not it’s a good sign or a bad sign that she can feel heat rushing to her cheeks again at the gesture. “Molly, I’m gonna need you to take a deep breath, okay?”

She nods, and closes her eyes gently to focus on her breathing. In, out, in, out, and if it weren’t for Ollie’s words she’s not sure she’d ever realize how fast her breathing just was. She takes a few deep inhales a few more times, squeezing Ollie’s hands to ground herself to reality, and peeks her eyes open once she trusts herself enough not to black out again. It’s only now that she realizes that she’s still got her head in Ollie’s lap and that he must have never bothered to put her head down after she collapsed, and the visible blush rushing to her cheeks at the realization has Ollie sighing in….relief? Laughter? Molly’s not entirely sure. 

He helps her slowly rise to her knees, keeping a gentle hand on her back for support while also clearly doing his best to give her the space she needs. She takes one more moment to compose herself before she finds the bravery to speak the only words she’s brave enough to even comprehend, “How did you know what to do?”

“Oh!”  Ollie responds, like he wasn’t expecting her to ask. “June has panic attacks sometimes, too. She doesn’t usually collapse like that, but I guess some of my CPR certification training kicked in, too. Just something I’m used to helping out with, I guess” he shrugs, like that isn’t the most selfless thing Molly’s heard anyone ever say. And it frustrates her so much, because how can he be so selfless to the living but so selfish when it comes to the dead?

…To the dead.

To Scratch.

Oh corn. 

“You…know,” is all Molly can bring herself to say. 

Ollie frowns, and rubs at the back of his head. “...Yeah. I wanted to hear you say it in your own words, but…” his eyes dart downwards, “Really; I meant it when I said I understood if you didn’t want to say anything.” 

“B-but if you knew…” Molly starts one thought, but trails off as another, more urgent one overtakes that. “You didn’t tell your family about him, did you?” she squeaks, the lump in her throat threatening to return again. Ollie must see it pretty clearly in the look in her eyes, because he starts to reach for her hand again, but stops when he realizes he isn’t sure if he’s allowed to reach out again.

“What?” Ollie sounds absolutely baffled at the notion, which Molly wasn’t expecting at all. “I don’t care about him!” 

“You…” Molly points an accusatory finger at him, but it flops to her side just as quickly. “You don’t?” 

“Of course not!” he replies, his eyes glinting with sadness. “Of course I didn’t tell my family! I don’t care about all of that right now! I mean, sure, I can’t lie and say I wasn’t shocked, but all I care about is that you’re okay, because you’re the one I care about here!” 

Molly can see the tears building in his eyes, but before she can reach out to him, he wipes at his eyes with his wrist. There’s a lot of different emotions written into his face, but no matter how hard Molly looks, she can’t see even a hint of anything accusatory or angry.

“You’re not…mad at me?”

“Of course I’m not mad at you!” he grips his perfect, silky hair, and takes a deep breath. “Look, I’m sorry for shouting. I’m just…” There's a word on the tip of his tongue, Molly can see it clear as day, but he stamps that down and evidently decides to go a different route. “Are you kidding? Molly, I’m surprised that you’re not mad at me.”

“Huh? What do you mean?”

“I mean, look at you!” he gestures vaguely to her whole being, a pink flush returning to his cheeks. “You’re so perfectly you, so passionate about ghosts, and yet you still talk to me? After all the horrible things I’ve said about them? I would hate someone like me.”

Molly curls her knees up to her chin. “...I could never hate you…” she murmurs, more to herself than to him, but he smiles at the comment regardless. 

“Then how could you possibly think that I hate you?” He places a gentle hand on her knee. “Molly, I didn’t tell my family because I knew how much that would hurt you. I’d never dare to do anything that would hurt the people I care about, even if that means protecting a ghost whose name I don’t even know.”

Molly snorts at that, using her wrist to cover her mouth and the blush that’s totally not reappearing on her cheeks. “But what about the rest of your family?”

Ollie shakes his head, frowning. “I can’t guarantee that they’d be as accepting, but if you’re asking if I’m gonna talk to them about this, the answer is still no. I promise.” He places his hand to his chest. “That’s an Ollie Oath.”

“Awwww, Ollie!” Molly’s voice squeaks, and it takes everything in her not to pounce him to the ground in a hug. “I hope you know that you’re perfect, too. I can’t take all the credit here.”

“Thanks,” he murmurs shyly, rubbing at the back of his neck. “And, uh, thanks for being so understanding.” 

“What? Pssh, no, Ollie, thank you for being so understanding. I don’t think this conversation could’ve gone better if I planned it all out in my friendship journal first.” Molly smiles, and she’s all but given up on hiding her blush when he laughs that adorable laugh of his again. 

“Of course,” he tries for regal, giving a half-bow in her direction. “And uh, if your friend asks, tell him I think he’s cool. And, uh, that I hope he thinks that we’re cool” he gestures back and forth between himself and Molly, which makes her laugh. 

“Scratch,” she corrects him. “I’ll be sure to let Scratch know the next time I see him.” She nudges Ollie gently with her elbow. “Though I think it’s gonna take him a while to process as is when I tell him that you saw him in the first place, let alone that I’m gonna go ahead and give us another try after I told him I wasn’t going to.” 

Ollie’s eyes shine with happiness at that, but he shyly glances away as he laughs nervously one more time. “That’s okay,” he says. “One step at a time.” 

Molly smiles, and rises to her feet before reaching her hand out to help Ollie to his.

“Yeah. One step at a time.”

[goldengoddess]

use somebody - jj maybank ♡

request: ok but !! what abt a jj fic inspired by 'use somebody' by kings of leon . . .

authors note: i haven’t written for jj before so uh be nice! for my love <3 @xsamsharons

warnings: mentions of abuse, angst but it ends with fluff, sad jj

the last place you expected to see jj maybank was at school. on a monday morning, on your way to calculus, that blonde mop of hair was a sight for sore eyes. a familiar one at least, if not unexpected.

but when the boy you hadn’t spoken to in days turned around and met your widened eyes with his blood shot ones, something constricted inside your chest.

in a blur of ‘excuse me’s and aggressive ‘move out of my way’s you were in front of him. “jj?” you whispered and grabbed hold of his face. “jj,” you tried again, since he still wasn’t meeting your gaze completely.

his eyes lifted up and once again the redness and puffiness broke something within you. “sunshine?” he asked, voice far away and confused.

you grabbed his hand as the words left his mouth. pulling him into a storage closet you knew would be empty, it was difficult not to think about the way his hand molded perfectly into yours. like it was made to be there.

you gently shut the door and flipped on a light, only then turning around to look at jj’s face. the dark circles under his eyes and the way you was frustratingly running his fingers through his hair sent your mind to the worst possible scenario. unfortunately, you also noticed the obvious bruise forming on the side of his face the bloody lip to go along with it. 

“jj, honey, what’s wrong?”

the fact that he didn’t immediately make a quick joke or assure you he was fine until you asked again because, as you’d told him multiple times, ‘i’m fine’ isn’t an answer, worried you. you poked his chest to grab his attention. the way he’d done a hundred times when you were busy studying and he wanted attention.

he inhaled sharply but it sounded more like desperate grasp for air. you placed your hand on his arm to steady him. and maybe yourself.

“i,” he paused, “i could use somebody.”

his words dug right into your chest, you tilted your head to the side, “what do you mean j?”

you’d known jj for the better part of your life. third grade best friends don’t usually stick around high school, but he did. you did. there was no one in the world like jj maybank to you. he was one of a kind. everything that boy had been through, you’d been at his side. there was no one you despised more than his father, no one you would rather see behind bars. you’d seen everything he’d done to jj, been the one to hold him through panic attacks after visiting his own home on more than one occasion.

so your response was to assume the worst, always. that something had gone down between his father, the way it had the last night you’d spoken to him.

“did something happen with luke” you questioned aloud, searching for a reaction.

he pulled at his hair and focused all of his attention on his own shoes. you curled your balls into fists and stepped closer to him. you moved your hand from his arm up to his chin, to tilt his head up so his blue eyes could meet yours. 

you resisted the urge to flinch at the already darker bruise. “jj, please, tell me what’s going on.”

but while your first instinct was to pull him closer, jj’s was to push you away. he stepped backwards, as much as he could in the cramped place, and shook his head. you knew that head shake, like he was finally shaking off whatever daze he was in and putting his walls back up. 

“i shouldn’t be here,” he said, “you need to go to class and john b is waiting for me. i should go.” he tried to squirm past you but you stood your ground, quickly grabbing the door knob so he couldn’t open the door and make his escape. 

“no.” you growled, suddenly angry with his behavior. “you can’t keep doing this. you can’t keep making me worry, clearly asking for help, coming to search for me at school,” you said exasperated, “and then not let me in. it’s exhausting jj.”

the silence in the room was suffocating, and part of you wanted to take back the words, the outburst. but it was always this way. he’d come to you, need you. and you’d hold him and worry but never give you more than that. never really let you in or really help. 

“what happened?” you tried again, 

“you deserve better than this” is all he responds with. 

you throw up your hands dramatically. “better than what jj? worrying to death about you? not being able to sleep because you never tell me anything so instead i have to overthink and panic about something happening to you without knowing because i know you’d never ask me for help if you needed it?” you took a deep breath and made sure to look him right in the eyes, “your right. i do deserve better than that.”

you tried to grab onto his hand, the urge to run your fingers over his bruised knuckles was overwhelming. but once again he pulled away from you. 

“i can’t help you if you don’t let me. i’m tired of trying but i can’t stop” your words came out as a whisper as tears welled up in your eyes. “why did you come looking for me at school?” 

he took a deep breath, and opened his mouth but no words came. you didn’t know why you expected anything different from him. it was always the same wasn’t it? he could never really trust you, no matter how much you bled for him. and you would never know why. 

you made a motion to leave the room, “look jj, you could use someone, it doesn’t have to be me but-”

his sudden grip on your wrist stopped you from finishing your sentence. 

“i could use somebody like you.”

“someone like me?”

“someone like you and all you know and how you speak,” he said, his eyes cast down at his hand on your skin. you could feel the way his hand was shaking, the way his entire body was tense and asking to pull away from you. 

“this isn’t,” he started, “this isn’t easy for me.” his hand on your wrist pulled you slighly closer to him. he winced at his own words, or maybe his own actions. like he was betraying his own philosophy. “you’re right. i could use somebody, but i don’t want it to be anyone. i need it to be you.”

you shifted so he was holding your hand instead of your wrist, the way it was always meant to be.  

“okay then talk to me” you pleaded.

you took a hesitant step forward, hoping that it would encourage him to continue opening up instead of having the opposite effect.

he squeezed your hand and you squeezed back in reassurance. “i’ve been roaming around, around these halls, looking for you, but looking down.” he paused and shuffled his feet around. you jokingly lifted up your own toes and stepped on his. it earned you a small, but still present, smile.

“when he, after my dad got angry today, all i wanted was to find you. it was like an instinct. and suddenly i was here at school, because i know you have your last class right now. but i just couldn’t want till you came to the chateau. but then when i realized i was here i hated myself,” his voice cracked as he spoke. “i hated myself for coming here in need of your help. i don’t want to burden you. but every time anything happens i think of you. i need you. so i tried to make sure you didn’t see me. but you always do.”

he pulled you in closer, “you always see me. even when i don’t want you to.”

“of course i do” you whispered, so close to him. “you’re not a burden. you never will be. you’re my best friend, you’re-” you stopped. “you’re more than that toookay? i want to be there for you, but you have to let me in. will you?”

he stayed silent and a pit formed in your stomach. panic started setting in that maybe you’d gone to far, fucked it all up by hinting at your feelings for the boy. this was bigger than that. it was jj. and his well being. and the overflowing love you felt for him.

but before you could do anything, like say something even more stupid and take it all back, jj gave you a little smirk.

“more than that huh?” he full out grinned, “didn’t know that’s how you felt sunshine.”

and even though the room was dark, suffocating, and you knew there was so much left to do for jj to really open up to you, you broke out into a matching smile.

you gently punched his shoulder with your free hand, “oh shut up you idiot. i take it all back.”

he tsk’ed and grabbed your hand so now he was holding both. “nah sunshine, too late. ive heard it all. you’ve been harboring your undying love for me since i pulled on your hair in elementary school.”

you rolled your eyes in an attempt to play it off but the blush on your cheeks gave you away. he smirked even more at the sight and leaned in closer.

“it’s okay, i’ve been harboring feelings for you since you punched me in the nose for pulling your hair in elementary school.”

you smiled with your teeth and kissed his cheek softly. pulling one hand out of his, you opened the door without turning away from him. “how bout i skip my last class of the day and we go get some coffee?”

as you gently ran your thumb over his bleeding bottom lip, he nodded his head. “i knew i could use someone like you,” he whispered and tucked little piece of hair behind your ear..

he quickly straightened out and pulled you out into the empty and open hallway, “now let’s go sunshine, i’ll tell you all about my trauma over a cup of coffee.”

and though he tried to play it off, and you had to slap his shoulder at the way he spoke about himself, you knew his words were a step in the right direction.

[forzalando]

The Perfect Arrangement | George Weasley | Pt. 1

Pairing: George Weasley x F!Reader AU: Bridgerton!AU Word Count: 2.1k Warnings: Bridgerton spoilers, mentions of alcohol

Summary: As a woman in the early 19th century, you’ve been told all your life that marriage should be your ultimate goal, however, you do not share that sentiment. When the insufferable George Weasley devises a plan that may solve your problems, how can you say no?

A/N: hi friends! this will be a multipart (probably 3-4 parts) George fic inspired by Bridgerton. i’m so excited for it and i hope you all are too :) thank you for reading!

The start of the social season had been, as you had expected, the topic of conversation around the ton for the past few weeks. It was impossible to go anywhere without hearing whispers of who would snag an engagement in the next few months.

Particularly, people had been interested in who the Queen would declare the “diamond of the season”. Your mother was positively convinced it would be you, but you had other plans in mind for your life other than parties and dresses and loveless marriage. However, when the Queen took one look upon your face, she quickly declared you incomparable, as she had done the same for Daphne Bridgerton, now the Duchess, a few years prior, and your fate was sealed.

As a member of the distinguished and esteemed Y/L/N family, and as the eldest daughter, you had a trivial, yet necessary and important role to play, even if you longed to free yourself from it. Your mother and father, as wonderful as they might be, had high expectations for you, and you would not and could not let them down.

Your mother fluffed your hair and primped your dress in preparation of the Danbury Ball, admiring you fondly and gushing about how beautiful you looked.

“Maybe your luck will be as wonderful as the Duchess, her love match was indeed unprecedented but oh so joyous. Do you think your fortune might align with hers, dear?”

“Mama,” you sighed. “I have no interest in a life like the Duchess’s. All the parties, teas, and properness. Besides, there isn’t another Duke for me to marry.”

“I did not mean that you would have to marry a Duke to share her fate; only that you may marry for love.”

You huffed as you turned away from the mirror. In truth, you had no interest in marrying for love, or marrying at all for that matter, but the duty of an eldest daughter was set in stone.

All too soon, you arrived at the Lady Danbury’s spectacular first ball of the season; the sea of gowns and tailored coats causing a queasy feeling to settle in your stomach, and you wished with all your might that anything at all would ruin the festivities.

A glass of champagne was placed in your grasp and you let your eyes wander around the room; Lady Eloise Bridgerton, a close friend of yours, donned a similar look on her face though her mother enthusiastically tried to get her to waltz across the dance floor.

Glancing to your left, you noticed Lord Farley, a rather grotesque older man, eyeing you up and down; his beady eyes causing the queasy feeling to return and for your feet to take off in what could almost be considered a sprint.

When he was no longer in your line of sight, you began to slow down your gait, but a shoulder roughly bumped into yours and an unattractive yelp escaped your lips.

The unmistakable chuckle that followed your outburst made you groan due to your detestation of the man you knew you had bumped into.

Lord George Weasley; a man, nay, a boy, with hair of fire and a wit to match. You had known him for years as you were the same age and his sister Ginevra was the best of friends with your younger sister.

“I want to believe, Miss Y/L/N, that you would not take such drastic measures to capture my attention, but I must say I am flattered nonetheless,” George teased, his hand reaching out to steady you as you recovered from the collision.

“Mr. Weasley, I believe you to know me better than that,” you spoke with gritted teeth as you swatted his hand away. “Besides, there are plenty of young women here that would kiss the ground you walk on. Might you bother them instead?”

“Ah, but where is the fun in that? I’ve noticed that you still have room on your dance card?”

“I always have room left on my dance card.”

You tried to step around George and escape his company, but his impossible height made it so easy for him to evade your attempts.

“Is that by choice or because you’re just so pleasant to spend time with?” he inquired with a smirk.

“Suppose a bit of both. Now, if you would be so kind, I’m quite parched and would love another glass of champagne.”

“Perfect, I shall accompany you.”

George Weasley, you surmised very early on, was nothing but a flirt. You wouldn’t go so far as to call him a rake, because as far as you knew he was an honorable man, but he was also most intolerable with his boyish charm, sense of humor, beautiful eyes…

Yes, you were quite sure that he was entirely intolerable.

“Have you told your mother you have no interest in procuring a husband, yet?” he mused, breaking you out of your trance as he carefully handed you a glass of champagne.

“Don’t call it procuring as if it’s a transaction. And no, I haven’t. Do you think I’d be standing here alive if I had?”

“Good point,” George hummed as his eyes surveyed the room, no doubt searching for the next woman so unlucky enough to be graced with his presence.

“How is your family?” you asked as you sipped on your flute of bubbling liquid.

“They’re doing well, thank you for asking. Work has been a bit hard on Dad but – ”

Before George could finish, a man approached you and bowed; taking the hand not holding the champagne flute and pressing a kiss to your knuckles.

“Miss Y/L/N, would you like to join me for a dance?”

You noticed George looking on angrily at the sight before him, probably because his ego couldn’t take the interruption.

“I’m flattered, Lord Rainier? I believe?” When you received no objections, you continued. “As I was saying, I’m flattered by your offer but I simply must decline. I am feeling a bit ill and all that spinning might make me sick.”

“Yes, yes, of course, Miss Y/L/N. Perhaps another time?”

You gave him a small, soft smile and let out a sigh of relief when he walked away. Turning back to George, you urged him to continue. While you held him in contempt, or so you told yourself, you did enjoy his family as they were all simply lovely.

“You were saying, George?”

“Right, work has been a bit hard on Dad, after his accident a few months ago. He’s been doing better but Charlie had to take a break from his travels to come home and help out since he’s the eldest. Fred and Angelina are expecting again, if you haven’t heard. They’re hoping for a girl this time.”

“Maybe if you were more like your brother you’d be married and having children by now,” you teased.

He gasped and clutched his hand over his heart, drawing the attention of anyone near.

“You wound me, Y/N.”

Much to your dismay, you laughed at his actions, devastated that you gave him the satisfaction of knowing he was entertaining you. However, the moment was short lived as another man interrupted your conversation.

“Miss Y/N, I must say you are looking exquisite this evening. It would be a shame for your dress not to take a twirl on the dance floor. Might I accompany you?”

You tried not to groan when you noticed a line forming behind the man currently asking for a dance.

“Actually, Lord Beverly, I’m feeling a bit warm. I was just about to go outside for some fresh air.”

“I shall accompany you, then.”

“Without a chaperone? Goodness, no, please find another young lady to dance with. There are certainly many that would be delighted at the chance.”

You looked around Lord Beverly to see at least four other men waiting for their chance to ask you for a dance, and the thought of making up more excuses made your head spin. You graciously bid Lord Beverly a good evening, and turned on your heel towards the nearest exit.

In your haste, you did not notice George following you into the gardens.

“Well, you sure like to let them down easy,” he joked.

“George!” you cried. “We can’t be seen alone, are you daft? Trying to ruin me and my family?”

“Calm yourself, my Mother is just right there.”

You looked a bit to George’s left and saw his wonderful mother keeping a careful eye on the two of you, graciously leaving the attention of her husband to ensure that none would suspect foolery between you and George.

“As I was saying, it’s awfully obvious that you do not want any man to court you. Your mother will realize well and soon enough of your…aversion to marriage.”

“The only reason you know that is because you eavesdropped on a conversation I had with Eloise. But yes, I have no desire to marry, and I’m quite certain I never will. I’ll have to fight off suitors and think of a million excuses until I’m considered a spinster and men no longer want me.”

Silence enveloped you both as a tear slid down your cheek. You hastily wiped it away, hoping that George hadn’t seen, but of course, you were not so lucky.

“Is the idea of marriage really that upsetting to you, Y/N?”

“All those men, all they want is a woman to wear on their arm and to give them children. That’s what a woman’s life is in marriage. A husband doesn’t care about his wife’s passions, desires, intellect, among other things, and I can’t bring myself to entertain the idea of a life that has no room for my happiness.”

George was quiet; pondering your response and your feelings, when he was suddenly struck with the most brilliant of ideas.

You see, Mr. George Weasley was in love with Miss Y/N Y/L/N, has been for several years in fact. He couldn’t tell you exactly when or why, but he knew that the fluttering in his chest and the way his whole world became brighter when she entered a room meant that Y/N was more than just someone to engage in friendly banter with.

“I’ve thought of an idea,” George muttered, piquing your interest.

“Whatever might it be, Mr. Weasley?”

“Your…situation, can only go away if men were to believe you were taken, correct?”

“Yes, I suppose, only I can’t fool them into thinking that. It would become quite suspicious when I’m seen alone everywhere. And, there’s no way I could ever fool my parents.”

“Except you wouldn’t be alone, you’d have me!”

“I don’t believe I’m following your idea, George.”

“Marry me.”

You choked and sputtered on your own spit, unable to take a breath through your coughs and gasps. George’s hands flew to your shoulders to steady you, helping you to breathe easier and calm yourself down.

“George, you must be joking,” you said quietly.

“I am as deadly serious as I could ever be. Not a real marriage, of course. Real in every sense of the word in terms of legality, but not real as in, well, us together. I’ll spend this social season courting you, and at the end of the season I’ll propose. We’ll get married in a few months’ time, and then we can travel the world, doing whatever our hearts desire.”

“Why on earth would you want to marry me?”

“It’s quite simple. You need to get the eligible bachelors of the ton to leave you alone and you never want to marry because your husband would restrict your freedoms. I, as your husband, wouldn’t dare. You’re not entirely awful, I suppose there are far worse people to spend my life with, even if you utterly despise me, and marriage, real marriage, isn’t something I want either.”

You looked at him quizzically, searching for signs that he’d had far too much champagne or had gone completely mad in the head, but he looked right as rain, and your mind was spinning.

“I find it hard to believe you do not want to marry, after all the times you’ve said you cannot wait to marry the woman you love.”

“Honestly, the woman I love is….unattainable, I’ll put it that way. I won’t ever love anyone but her. I’m also waiting for an answer, it’s not every day you have to have a discussion after a proposal.”

“You’re sure this will work, Mr. Weasley?”

“How hard can it be to pretend to be in love with a woman as beautiful as you?”

“I always knew you were a flirt, but God, do you lay it on thick.”

George looked at you expectantly, almost a glimmer of hope is his eye, but as quickly as you thought you’d noticed it, he looked away.

“My answer is yes, George. Let’s fool the ton, our families, court, get married, and then travel the world platonically.”

“That sounds like the perfect arrangement, darling.”

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[btsmosphere]

Across the Tracks | KTH

~summary: Don’t cross the tracks. Never once did you question what you had been told your whole life – at least not until a certain boy makes that a bit more difficult...

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | drabble

~pairing: taehyung x reader (she/her) ~word count: 7.3k ~dystopian au, strangers to lovers, angst, fluff, inspired by lady and the tramp ~rating: pg15 ~warnings: adoption, dystopia, fictional slur, violence, arrest, police brutality, car accidents, near death, swearing

~a/n: the finale has arriiived!! I can’t thank you guys enough for the wonderful comments this series has got, it means so much to me! Please come chat with me about the last chapter🥰and enjoy.. xx

Light streamed into your eyes with the click of the van door opening, but that wasn’t what you flinched back from. It was futile to try and escape the controllers grasp though, and you were soon being tugged out and towards the front gate of a large, grey building.

On the short journey, you had managed to control your tears and your shaking, but your knees felt weak again as you stared up at the looming building.

Your eyes hadn’t even roamed its whole front when a beeping sounded, large black doors grating open before the entrance swallowed you whole.

Taehyung’s fingers trailed over the small metal barriers around every tree he passed. Who put fences around trees?

Huffing, he whirled around for the fifteenth time, ignoring the ache growing in his feet. Surely he should be near your area soon? The problem was, all the houses over here looked the same. Same neat lawns, same cute little window boxes, same front doors-

And a man leaving his front door. Someone he recognised.

“Hey!”

The guy started, alarm taking over his features as he saw the ragged boy barrelling towards him.

“Aren’t you-“ Seokjin spoke as Taehyung slowed in front of him, “what are you doing here? Stay away!”

“Listen-“ Tae panted, holding up his hands, “it’s about Y/N.”

Clattering shut behind you, the door remained steadfast in the face of your pleas.

“I have papers, I promise! I’m adopted by a Mr and Mrs-“

“Spare us the story, we’ll see what happens when we look up your name in the system,” the controller cut you off, not even looking your way as the key clanked in the lock.

“No-“ you clutched at the bars, “they gave me this – mother and father – when I got my papers. I’m not lying!”

Fishing your bracelet, the symbol of your adoption, from your pocket, you held it up-

Only for it to be snatched straight from your fingers. Yelping, you lunged for it back, but the controller held it out of reach.

“Might as well just admit to stealing this,” they smirked, “sentence is the same for strays either way.”

Words could barely form as you gaped, outraged.

“S-stealing?!” you spluttered, “but- that’s mine!”

“Sure it is.”

Losing the patience to hear you out, the controller was already walking away, your bracelet slipping into their pocket.

Jaw slack in disbelief, you stayed on the spot even as they left your line of sight. It wasn’t until the sting in your eyes became unbearable, vision fuzzing, that you clamped your mouth shut to bite down on your lip.

Slowly, you turned inwards to face the rest of the cell.

The other residents looked as shocked as you, staring back.

Hurriedly blinking, you were surprised to find you recognised some of them.

Voice cautious, Namjoon stepped towards you first.

“Y/N?”

“Namjoon?” you whispered, not trusting your voice at a higher volume, “what are you doing here?”

Looking around him, you found the mysterious Yoongi eyeing you. Beside him stood Jimin, with a boy you didn’t recognise.

“They caught onto us stealing the medical supplies,” Namjoon sighed heavily, wandering the few paces to the edge of the cell as he rubbed the back of his neck.

“I’m so sorry…” you winced.

“It’s alright,” he shrugged, looking around, “looks like they had a field day today, half the city’s in here.”

“Our half of the city,” Yoongi spoke drily for the first time.

“But what can everyone have done so wrong?” you frowned. Turning around, even among only those cells that were visible from here, you could easily see they were as packed as yours.

“Exist.”

The small voice came from the boy you hadn’t met.

“This is Jungkook,” Jimin nodded to you, “he was… staying at the restaurant with me. They found out.”

At your puzzled look, he sighed.

“They don’t take too kindly to anyone not paying rent. Any strays,” Jimin scowled darkly.

Pressing your lips together, you were at a loss with what to say. Silence falling stiffly over the group of you again, Jimin sat back onto the small bench fixed to the wall. Following suit, you sunk with your back against the bars, lungs deflating.

“It’s alright,” Namjoon’s hand landed on your shoulder, sending a grimace your way, “we’ve all been in here at some point. Well, all except one,” he added with a chuckle.

“…who?” you enquired.

“Taehyung,” Yoongi chipped in.

“Oh.” You cast your eyes down.

“Wasn’t he with you?” Jimin frowned.

You grimaced.

“Yeah, he was… but I- I lost him.”

“Just like him,” Jimin chuckled. Despite his mirth, you were only confused. “I thought something might be different this time,” he carried on, “but I guess some never change.”

“What are you talking about?” you insisted.

“Well…” Yoongi slid down where he sat, scratching at his ear, “don’t take this the wrong way, but Tae often has girls around, if you catch my drift. I thought you’d know that.”

He looked genuinely curious, tilting his head in the face of your bafflement.

“No.” you spoke. “I had no idea.”

Seokjin had been staring at him wordlessly for a disconcertingly long time. Taehyung was about to open his mouth again when the other man exploded, arms flying as he yelled, making Tae jump back.

“You did WHAT? HOW- HOW DARE YOU?! YOU JUST LEFT HER-“

“I never meant to!”

“-you should have brought her STRAIGHT BACK HERE-“

“She can choose what she wants to do!”

“She should have stayed well away from you! I can’t believe y- I hope you’re happy now-“

“Of course I’m not!” Taehyung pleaded, “just – please – just get her family to call the station and get her out of there.”

Seokjin’s ears were practically glowing red, nostrils flaring as he breathed heavily.

“I will,” he snapped, “but you had better stay away from now on, okay? You’re nothing but trouble.”

Taehyung chewed at the inside of his cheek, heart sinking. Eventually he lowered his head, nodding.

“I will.”

“Are you really licensed, though?” Jungkook asked, steering the conversation back to safer territory after the earlier revelation.

You nodded mutely.

“You don’t have anything to worry about, then,” Namjoon assured you, “they’ll see it on the system and have your family pick you up.”

“What about you?” you looked up then, at all of them.

Exchanging glances with the others, Jimin was the one to reply.

“We’ll figure out something. Maybe if Taehyung wants to show his face sometime, we’ll get out-“

Cutting himself off mid-giggle, he seemed to realise the risky topic he had just breached again. Nonetheless, it peaked your interest.

“Why would Taehyung help?”

“He knows every trick in the book,” Yoongi scoffed, “always manages to get away. Saved us from a lot of trouble, too.”

Simply nodding, you returned your gaze to the floor again when a sharp blow knocked you forwards.

Righting yourself hastily, you found the controller from earlier unlocking the door and throwing it open.

“Miss L/N, we found your file, follow me.”

Startled, it took you a moment before you kicked your body into action, stiffly standing with one more look back at the others. As the bars closed, this time separating you from them, you could only offer them a grimace and a small wave as you were led away.

But soon enough, you were occupied with different concerns.

At the end of the corridor, Sarah was waiting for you. Glaring at you from the moment you came into view, her severe expression twisted your stomach with dread. You forced yourself to keep walking, despite your legs protesting as if you were wading through treacle to meet your fate.

Piercing eyes trained on you to the last moment, she finally turned on her heel, nodding briefly to the controller before walking away. Hurrying to follow, your heart jittered at her silence. You knew you were still in trouble.

Huge globs of water spattered harshly against the windows of the summer house. This small building in your garden wasn’t built for the cold, and if you thought you had had it bad in the back room, it was ten times worse locked up in here.

All you could do was huddle away from the rattling windows and bunch the thin blanket around your shoulders as a meagre shield against the wind. Rubbing your fingers together despite the fact feeling was rapidly draining from them, you stared out into the darkness between you and your house.

The lights streaming from the windows looked so warm, you could almost imagine some phantom of heat wrapping itself around you.

But in the jumble of other thoughts in your head, you couldn’t focus and it would soon fade.

Jostling the blanket around you once again, you were alerted to a movement at the side of your house. Sitting straighter, you squinted into the night as two shapes grew closer.

A breath left you as you recognised them.

Rushing forwards and letting the blanket flutter onto your makeshift bed, you dropped to your knees in front of a window. The door was locked, but the windows would crack open a few inches. Following your lead, Jin and Hoseok sat down cross-legged on the porch, pushing down the hoods of the coats they were wearing.

You knew Sarah had left the key hanging from the doorknob, but it would be best to leave it locked so as not to risk any more punishments.

Through the raindrops clinging to the glass, you could see the cautious looks on their faces, sympathetic smiles as they tried to look reassuring.

“Y/N, aren’t you cold in there?” Hoseok frowned.

“It’s not too bad,” you lied, “thanks for coming to see me.”

At the sight of your friends, an unexpected lump was welling up in your throat and you surreptitiously swiped at your eyes.

“Y/N, we’re so sorry about what happened,” Jin was saying, “but it wasn’t your fault. They shouldn’t be keeping you out here.”

“When mother and father come back, it should be okay,” you sighed. Folding your arms against the windowsill, you rested your cheek on them.

“Well, if you want to come and stay with one of us, I’m sure you’d be very welcome,” Jin assured, “even if it’s just until then. You know how my parents are fond of you.”

Hoseok nodded vigorously.

“Thank you,” you said earnestly, “I’ll have to think about it. Just- so much happened, and I don’t know what I’m thinking anymore.”

“That’s understandable,” Jin smiled, looking like he didn’t understand at all.

“At least you have a story to tell!” Hoseok changed tack, and you couldn’t stop yourself smiling, dry laugh falling from your lips.

“Yeah, I got thrown in jail, I’m sure everyone would be thrilled to hear that,” you scoffed.

“It isn’t your fault,” Jin insisted, “I knew Taehyung was bad news…“

You stayed silent, biting your lip. Though you knew you shouldn’t, you almost wanted to defend him. He had changed your entire view of where you were, opened your eyes on the short adventure.

The conversation swiftly moved on, your friends dancing around your ordeal, but you couldn’t bring yourself to be annoyed by it. Talking to them brought some comfort, some familiarity that you needed right now.

Eventually, the night had worn colder and you insisted that they get home, especially considering Hoseok was practically falling asleep on Jin’s shoulder.

Giving a small wave as best you could through the minute gap in the window, you watched them stand up and leave, huddling under their coats again to step out into the rain. But barely three paces away, they stopped again.

With a frown, you sat up, trying to make out what was going on from their illuminated silhouettes. It was then that you could make out the shape of another person.

Even obscured as he was by your friends standing between you, it was clearly Taehyung. Your chest felt tight, not knowing what to feel on seeing him again. There was an undercurrent as you looked at him, some bitterness knowing what you did now.

But you wanted to see him again.

“Taehyung?” you called.

The three men all spun to look at you. With a glance between them, Hoseok and Jin started warily forwards to within earshot again. Hanging back, Taehyung waited with his hands folded, fingers fidgeting as he looked between each of you.

Hoseok fixed him with a glare while Jin walked right up to you, crouching so he could speak through the window, voice low enough that the others couldn’t hear.

“If you don’t want him here, Y/N, we can easily get rid of him.”

“No,” you shook your head firmly, “I want to talk to him. Thank you, though.”

Despite his uneasy look, he nodded slowly. Sharply inhaling, he turned back to Taehyung. Without a word, he led Hoseok away, although the two of them sent glares enough for Tae to turn his eyes down to his feet, bobbing his head to them.

When they reached the corner of your house, Tae deemed them far enough away to approach you.

Steeling yourself with a breath, you stayed in place as he pushed his hair out of his face. It was soaking wet, plastering itself to his forehead and sticking up in various directions after he slicked it back. His skin glistened with rain too, and he shook his head lightly to rid himself of some.

“Hey pidge…” he panted, finally sitting down opposite you.

“Hey,” you choked out.

“Listen,” he leaned his elbows on his knees, hands spread open, imploring you, “I’m really sorry for what happened. I thought you were right behind me, and when I saw that you weren’t… well…”

“Thank you for helping me before,” you kept your voice level, “and trying to get me back home, but-but being taken by the controllers-“

“But you’re back now!” his grin showed itself again, “they would never hurt a cute thing like you.”

“A ‘cute thing’ like me?!” you exclaimed, “Tae, I was so frightened! A-and what does it matter, when your friends are still in that awful place? Or do you not care as long as it’s not you in there?”

“Pidge, listen, they’ll be alright, it’s you I was worried about. I swear I never meant to lose you.”

“Like I said before,” you sniffed, “I appreciate you helping me. But if that’s all-“

“Pidge!”

You stared back at his desperate eyes through the flecks of rain on the glass. The ache in your heart wouldn’t let you break away from his wide, pleading eyes.

“Pidge, please,” he begged, shuffling closer, “don’t be like this. Don’t shut me out-“

“And why not?” you swallowed against your voice as it threatened to spill over in tears, “did any of it even mean anything to you?”

“What do you mean, pidge, of course I-“

“Your friends told me all about you. They said I was just another girl to chuck away-“

“No,” his palms pressed together, beseeching, “I’ve been with people before, that doesn’t make you any less special.”

When he broke off, you found no words to speak. Your mind was wrapping around itself as he let out a rough breath, raking a hand through his saturated hair.

When he fixed his eyes on you again, he held them intently.

“I know we’re from two different worlds, but… I didn’t want to let you go. I still don’t. You’re the first person I’ve wanted to chase so bad, and I just- I can’t accept letting you go so easily. I know things can be different, and I want them to be, pidge. I want to make it happen, and I want to make it happen with you.”

As his words washed over you, tears burned unbidden in your eyes. You could barely breathe as he spilled his heart out for you.

Letting his words hang between you once he stopped, he watched you for a reaction.

And you realised as you looked back that his eyes were filled for the first time with fear.

“Okay…” you breathed, cursing yourself at the first word to escape your mouth. Taehyung was still hanging on your every word, and he didn’t look too encouraged by that opener. You tried again. “I… want you too, Taehyung. But I don’t know how we can be together.”

You shared a sigh.

“That’s all I needed to hear, pidge.”

“But right now, I need some time,” you continued, ignoring the way your heart squeezed as his face fell, “and I think you should go.”

He gulped, but nodded, accepting his fate with downturned eyes.

“O-okay. I’ll… see you, then.”

As he stood up silently, you clamped your lower lip hard between your teeth. He walked slowly, but didn’t look back. As carefully as you could, you pulled the window shut, fingers now almost fully numb.

You couldn’t even lift yourself from the floor so you pushed yourself back and away from the window, watching him go with a growing weight in your chest.

He rounded the corner, out of sight, but you stayed where you were. Blankly staring across the garden, the dark stayed still for a short while, besides the rain still streaking through the air. At some point, Sarah’s children must have gone to sleep because the only light coming from the house was now from her bedroom.

A shape darted across the single ray of light.

Blinking, you shifted slightly, some stupid hope rousing within you that it was Taehyung. He hadn’t left very long ago – maybe he had come back?

But as you located the new person, to your alarm you found it wasn’t anyone you knew. In fact, they seemed to be utterly unaware of your presence as they jogged around the edge of the house, looking up at it, all the while clutching at a backpack slung over their shoulder.

Taken aback, you didn’t move for too long, simply watching as the person doubled back around the corner. Their hand was covering something tucked into a pocket.

It was when they stopped, both hands gripping the pipe that ran down the wall, that you finally found your feet.

Eyes widening, you crossed to the door of the summer house, bashing your palm against the window as the figure began to climb.

“Hey!” you yelled, but they only moved faster, looking around in alarm.

Not ceasing in your shouting, you hammered on the door intermittently with rattling the doorknob. Of course it didn’t give way, sending you further into panic, throwing your whole weight against the door when you saw the thief climb higher.

They had made it to the upstairs window. Your brother’s room.

Yelling with all your might now, you frantically bashed at the door. They were getting in! The window wasn’t locked, and the thief had no trouble lifting it open.

Just as they swung their first leg over the sill, footsteps thundered closer. In an instant, Taehyung stood in front of you, breathless.

“What’s going on?”

“A thief, a thief!” you shouted through the glass, pointing urgently at the window.

Spinning, Taehyung immediately found the threat.

“Shit- what do we- how do I-“

“The key!” you exclaimed, quickly hurrying on at his confused expression, “the key, it’s just there-“

While you struggled to point to the doorknob, Taehyung thankfully understood and quickly dived for it, shoving it into the lock. The moment it clicked open, you dashed out, not slowing once as you sprinted to your house.

The thief was now inside, and you wasted no time throwing the back door open, taking the stairs three at a time with Tae hot on your tail. Over the hammering of your feet down the hall, you could hear a crashing from your brother’s room.

Without a second of hesitation, you were inside, luckily finding the thief throwing drawers across the floor in their hunt for whatever they wanted – nowhere near your brother.

Even so, you launched yourself at them, seeing their eyes widen as you crashed against them bodily, shoving them further from your brother. All the noise had woken him, and his screaming joined the ruckus at the same moment Tae joined your fight.

Catching the thief from behind, Tae pulled them backwards in a headlock, grunting as they struggled, face scrunched up.

Meanwhile, you were frantically trying to grab them, to stop their arm that was clawing at Tae.

But you had left yourself vulnerable. Before you could blink, the sole of a shoe booted firmly into your stomach, sending you backwards, lungs suddenly parched of air. Free of you now that you were gasping some distance away on the floor, your opponent dropped their weight, escaping Tae’s grip.

Grappling to tackle them again, Tae was too late to stop the thief turning around. But it wasn’t just fists he had to deal with now. Struggling up from the floor, trying to heave air into your lungs, you caught sight of a silver glint as the thief pulled it from their pocket.

“Tae!” you tried to yell, but could only manage a wheeze.

Instead, you settled for dashing towards them again, but you were too late. The knife escaped your grasp and Tae cried out in pain, the two tumbling to the floor, catching the curtain at the same time, fabric cascading over them as the rail crashed down.

Not giving up, you pulled at the attacker before they could raise the knife a second time, succeeding in dragging them backwards. But they used your momentum, throwing you off them and into the dresser, sending you sprawling with it onto the carpet.

You had no time to extricate yourself before your opponent was back at the window, only just evading a dive from Taehyung as they abandoned ship and fled.

Tripping over the dresser in your haste, you started towards Taehyung. You couldn’t help but notice the hand pressed to his thigh.

Only you never made it another step.

The crack of a gunshot cut through the air.

Instantly crouching, hands thrown over your head, you didn’t initially spot who had fired. The first place your eyes travelled was to Tae, also ducked down, but otherwise unharmed.

Whirling towards the door, your heart dropped through the floor at the sight that met you. Sarah stood in the doorway, illuminated from behind. And in her hand, the gun.

Open mouthed, you stepped forward as she crossed towards the crib, your brother’s wails having doubled in volume since she had fired.

“Get away from him!” you begged.

But her gun was trained on you, and all you could do was send panicked stares between Tae and your baby brother.

“Who are you?” Sarah’s voice was high, wavering wildly as she turned the gun to Tae.

“No!” you rushed forwards, only to be stopped again as the barrel locked onto you once more.

Eyes wide and nostrils flaring, Sarah looked between the two of you, frozen in the wreckage of the room.

“Don’t you know how dangerous these people are?” she hissed, spit flying from her quivering lips.

“No, Sarah- you don’t understand-“ you held your hands up, pleading.

She was having none of it. Marching forwards, you let out a whimper as the barrel pressed briefly against you before she had you in her grasp. Wrestling you back by your shoulder, the pistol’s aim returned to Tae as the distance between you grew.

“Get over there. Hands up,” Sarah spoke, voice calmer now she had Tae at the other end of a gun. Gesturing with it, she pointed Tae in the direction of the wardrobe set into the wall.

Locking eyes with you where you were held in a vice beside Sarah, he silently obeyed.

Sidling through the door without a word, he disappeared from view, making your heart constrict in your chest. With sudden and alarming ferocity, Sarah barged forwards, slamming the door on him. Grabbing the nearest piece of felled furniture, she shoved it roughly against the door.

“Don’t you dare move, boy,” she hissed, “you’ll never see the outside of jail after this.”

But as you opened your mouth to protest, her grip was back on you, yanking you backwards, heels clunking down the stairs as you scrabbled for purchase. With brutal speed, she had reached the rarely used cellar door, managing to rip it open.

And just like that, your back was hitting the dusty floor, another slam ricocheting through the space, lock clicking before you could make it to your feet to pound against the door.

Sarah’s footsteps had long gone. Instead, the muffled sound of her speaking leaked through the door.

She was going to hand Taehyung to the controllers.

Letting your fists fall limply at your sides, your forehead fell against the door as you caught your breath. Sarah wasn’t going to pay any attention to you, no matter how much noise you could make. You had to come up with something else.

Turning your back on the incomprehensible babbling of Sarah on the phone and the screaming of your brother upstairs, you faced the towers of junk in the cellar. You had never been in here much, but you were fairly sure…

Skirting around stacks of things in the dark, inevitably sending some scattering across the floor, you hurried to get to the opposite wall.

Finally it seemed you had found it. Squeezed between teetering boxes with coats slung over the top, your fingers found a wooden surface above your head. Pushing up, it gave way until the clack of a lock stopped you, only a tiny crack of light falling over your face.

But the doors were clearly old and you persevered, jumping up and down to jostle them. They were certainly opening more than before, but you could now make out a chain linking the two trapdoors. It jangled as you shoved at your only exit, until another sound grew, filling the night and drowning out your own struggle.

A siren.

The faint crunch of tyres on the road accompanied what you recognised as the controllers’ vehicle through sound alone, confirmed by flashes of orange light that briefly illuminated the other side of the doors. You were already panting from exertion as it pulled up at the front of your house.

But you didn’t let up.

The sirens shut off.  Soon enough you had kicked over the stack of boxes, tentatively stepping up onto the lower two to continue your struggle.

But it wasn’t necessary.

Your heart leapt in your chest when you heard two familiar voices nearby.

“What if it’s dangerous?”

“Then Y/N will be in danger too!”

“Wait. What’s that noise?”

“Jin!” you called out through the gap, “Hoseok! Over here!”

A moment later two pairs of feet were slapping against the ground, drawing nearer until they fell in the thin gap you could see through the doors. Soon, Jin’s face filled the central space, squinting into the darkness.

“Y/N? What’s going on?”

“Quick, help me get out of here,” you urged, leaving his question unanswered.

Not seeming to mind, the two boys’ fingers were quickly hooked over the edges of the doors. Jin unwound the chain that had been stopping you and the trapdoors fell open at last. Each taking an arm, your friends hoisted you out of the cellar. Now they didn’t want to wait any longer for explanation.

“One of my dads saw a burglar jumping from your window,” Hobi was talking immediately, “we came straight to check, but we saw the controllers are here. Did something happen?”

“A burglar broke in, yes,” you were tripping over your words, “but Tae let me out of the shed and helped me, we tried to get rid of them, only, they ran away but then Sarah came in and now she’s calling the controllers for him. And he hasn’t done anything! We need to stop them!”

And with that, you set off for the front of the house.

A bewildered look shot between your friends behind you, before they took off on your tail.

“Y/N!” Jin called, “what are you doing? Are you crazy?”

Catching your hand, he stopped you just behind the corner of your house.

“What?” you tried to pull away.

“What’s got into you!” he gestured wildly, “those are the controllers. We stay away from them.”

“But Tae-“

“Y/N, you need to think about this. You’re putting yourself in danger too.”

Next to Jin’s intense stare, Hoseok looked a little more hesitant, gnawing at his lip.

“Y/N…” he spoke quietly, “does he really mean that much to you? After everything that happened?”

You sighed. Maybe you couldn’t quite explain it, but you had to be honest.

“Yes. Yes, he does. And I’m going after him, whether you two come or not.”

Eyes softening, Hoseok nodded. Both of you looked back to Jin, though you couldn’t help your eyes slipping to the side, impatient to help Tae.

Just as the thought ran through your mind, the slam of the front door.

Jin’s hand dropped away from yours, and you shot a panicked look back at him. His lips were pursed, watching the scene warily, but as Tae came into view, stumbling down the front steps with the force the controllers pushed him, hands fastened behind his back, the reality seemed to strike.

You couldn’t wait to check if Jin was following, stepping hurriedly from behind the wall and rushing towards Taehyung. Two sets of footsteps followed behind you.

The sound bringing his attention, you saw Taehyung’s eyes widen as he caught sight of you, but your gaze was broken as a broad-shouldered controller stepped between the two of you. A shout of your name came from the front doorway, where Sarah stood, but you didn’t even acknowledge her.

“Please, you have to let him go!” you pleaded with the indifferent controller.

“Let’s get him moving,” they growled over their shoulder to their colleagues. The lights of the controllers’ vans were practically unheard of in a neighbourhood such as this, and people were beginning to take notice. Curtains were pulled aside, some stepping from their front doors.

“You can’t!” you cried, the gathering crowd doing nothing to deter you, “he hasn’t done anything!”

“Alright miss,” the looming controller held his hands out, “calm down. We’ve been after this one for months.”

“But-“

“Pidge-“ a low warning from Tae was soon cut off as the officer restraining him shoved him forward, knees hitting against the stone path.

“Tae!”

Outraged, you dived for him, not paying any mind to the controllers until large arms were muscling against you, forcing you roughly away as Tae was dragged from the floor. You were flung back unceremoniously, and would have hit the ground too if you didn’t collide with another chest.

Jin’s arms steadied you.

“Don’t touch her,” his firm voice was loud in your ear as he glared up at the controller.

“Why you…”

Turning on him instead, the controller only got those words out before a new voice was cutting through the commotion.

“What’s going on here?”

Whirling around, you found Jin’s mother storming through the still growing crowd, hurrying up the path, his father not far behind. In shock, her wide eyes moved between her son and the controller berating him.

But as she bustled towards you, Tae was being wrestled further away, a brutal hand forcing his head down and into the waiting car.

“Tae!” you yelled again, ignoring Jin’s parents as you raced towards the gate, ducking under the controller that lunged at you.

But though your feet strove forwards, the engine rumbled, tyres setting into motion. The lights whirred further away, and you couldn’t make it as Tae was ripped away from you…

“Stop!” you were shouting. They had taken him right in front of you! You were so close, eyes fixed on the car, filtering out the shocked spectators who drew away from you, “come back! Please! Tae! No…”

Behind you, Jin’s mother was giving an earful to the controller, his father steadfast beside her as Jin stumbled to meet you.

“Y/N,” his hand landed on your shoulder, light and ready to spring away at any moment, “Y/N, I’m so sorry-“

An ear-splitting screech cut through the cacophony. Eerie silence smothered the scene as a toe-curling crunching filled the air, every eye travelling to the car spiralling across the middle of the road, lights washing like crashing waves over pristine lawns until it ground to a stop.

Gaping, heart in your mouth as you saw the scene unfold, you were the first to recover enough to move. Without your command, your legs were carrying you towards Taehyung. His head emerged in the car window, looking about in alarm. He must have ducked down when they swerved.

Mumbling conversation rushed to your ears again, sparking to life between the onlookers as you finally reached the car, throwing the door open.

“Tae!” you gasped, voice ragged as you pulled him out. Though he looked a little dazed, a soft smile curved his lips as you threw your arms around him. Unable to embrace you in return, he pressed his face into your hair.

“Jin’s explained everything, dear, don’t worry now,” the familiar voice of Jin’s mother approached behind you, “we’ll sort everything out, just-“

“No!”

Silence shot like electricity from the cry. It was Jin, but-

It hadn’t sounded like Jin.

His voice grated with the ferocity of the yell, and you whipped instantly away from Tae, locating your friend.

Only he wasn’t looking at you.

Dread seizing at your being, you dragged your gaze to follow his, looking down the road.

Your throat closed, choking any breath you had been taking.

This time, you found you couldn’t move. Jin’s feet were pounding away on the asphalt, the crowd’s silence not lifting as everyone stared on in horror. Your feet, on the other hand, wouldn’t – couldn’t – move.

Vision funnelling dizzyingly, you watched the stationary figure sprawled on the tarmac.

Your stomach churned, everything lurching sickeningly as you finally persuaded your leaden legs to move, utterly numb as you drew closer, denial running rampant in your mind.

Hoseok lay on the ground, unmoving. There was blood.

That was where the car had swerved. The car. Swerved. Hit him. It must have hit him; look at the way his shirt had torn, pushed along the ground. The way his normally lively eyes were shut in an unusually pale face, arm splayed out at an awkward angle.

“Hoseok…” you tried to say, but not even a whisper made it beyond your lips.

Jin was crouching beside him, saying his name over and over and over… his hand clutching at his friend, pressing at his face, his wrist. Commotion had returned at some point to the street around you, but you could barely hear it, locked in place.

The world shifted around you, people moving, noises and shouts and more sirens and hands on your shoulders until your feet moved, but you could only stare at your friend.

He had done this for you. For you and Tae.

Was he even breathing?

You hadn’t even noticed the brimming in your eyes, hardly blinking when it finally cascaded down your cheeks.

Jin’s mother hadn’t let you go back into the same house as Sarah. She had taken you in with her own son, and Tae alongside. You stayed clutching his hand, readily accepting his warm arms.

Despite the uneasy looks from bystanders, and Jin’s parents themselves, he had stayed by your side, unusually demure as he thanked the Kims for their generosity.

They let you two keep to yourselves. You could hear through the quiet house though, as you curled into Tae’s chest, the two of you trying to take up as little space on Jin’s bed as you could.

“I can’t believe it! That boy got unlucky with those controllers,” you could tell she was shaking her head.

His mother said this a lot. That they were ‘unlucky’. That the controllers were there to protect them, that their behaviour the night before was out of the ordinary, that you mustn’t worry.

“Maybe they didn’t want to listen to him because he was… well, because of where he’s from,” Seokjin’s reply was cautious, much more muffled than his mother’s assurances, “they didn’t want to listen to me either.”

“Don’t think like that,” his father chided, “it’s understandable given what most of the people there are like. They just made a mistake this once.”

A costly mistake, if it was one.

You closed your eyes.

Trailing back into the room, Jin squeezed onto the other side of the bed, sighing heavily.

None of you slept.

The curtains in Hoseok’s house were closed. Since everything had happened a few days ago, you had only caught a glimpse of his teary-eyed fathers, coming home from the hospital.

They hadn’t spoken to you.

You squeezed Taehyung’s hand tighter as you walked past their home.

Mother and father were coming home today. It had been less than a week, but everything had completely changed since you saw them last.

Not wanting to return until Sarah had gone, you waited with Tae by your garden wall. The place you had been sitting when Taehyung first burst into your life.

While you waited, Tae was… quiet. Noticing the pallor of his downcast face, you ducked your head to catch his eye.

“Tae…” you whispered, “Tae, it’s going to be alright.”

“Sorry,” he murmured, then let out a sigh, “I’m… I’m worried- that- what if- they’re not gonna like me!”

“They will!” you hushed him, smoothing your hands down his cheeks, his hair, “and if they don’t, it doesn’t matter to me. We’ve been through a little too much to let go so easily, don’t you think?”

Turning his honey-eyed gaze back to you, a smile quirked the corner of Tae’s mouth, much to your relief.

“You sure, cub? I know I’m not exactly a fairytale prince-“

“Oh, shush!” you laughed, “I couldn’t wish for anyone else.”

Tightening his grip on your hands, he pulled you against him in lieu of a reply. A kiss landed gently on your crown.

Just then, you became aware of voices floating from the garden.

Twirling from Taehyung’s embrace, though you kept a hold of his hand, you steeled yourself. They were back.

Making your way, with Taehyung in tow, towards the front, you ignored the neighbours peering not-so-subtly out of windows at you and your returning family. As your parents stepped through the gate, they noticed you, but the smiles on their faces dimmed when they found Taehyung beside you.

Their frowns only increased as they noticed the way you ignored Sarah, who stood at the door with her two children, already packed. The moment she spotted your parents, she was ushering the children down the steps without a second glance, making her farewells very brief as she hastened to leave.

“Y/N, dear?” your mother tentatively asked as you moved forward to greet them, “what-?”

“I’d like you to meet Kim Taehyung,” you smiled. Hopefully it came across as a smile, not a grimace. “there’s a lot I have to tell you.”

The grass under you was soft, rejuvenated by the sunlight smiling through the smattering of clouds. Your usual park was empty of any others, save for the four of you.

Yes, four.

Between blades of grass and budding buttercups, Taehyung’s fingers danced across your own where he reclined, eyes creased in hopeless mirth at one of Jin’s jokes. Jin was squeaking at his own joke, definitely getting grass stains on his shirt as he fell back, rolling on the ground.

And opposite you, loud, joyous laugh finally filling the space, was Hoseok. Beside the bench he leaned against, a couple of crutches were stacked, but the cast on his ankle was the only reminder left of the awful price he nearly paid that night.

He wouldn’t be able to have full mobility again for a few more weeks, though, which is why you were still here. This park, the backdrop to so much of your upbringing, was no longer where you belonged.

Knowing its emptiness only owed to it being a school day, that the true children of this side of the tracks would always be above you, tinged it with some bitterness.

This place would always be part of your life, but it was somewhere you wanted to move on from. And after learning from you, protesting against their parents, who, it turned out, all held the same beliefs deep down, Jin and Hoseok also felt the need to make their own way. To seize the life they had never been offered.

The way the neighbours looked at you now had certainly helped persuade your parents that it was time for you to fly the nest. For weeks, your scandal had been the only thing on the lips of the gossip in your neighbourhood.

Of course, you would always come back to visit, and to watch your brother grow, but you were ready for your own life.

With Taehyung at your side, of course.

When Hoseok could walk, you travelled to the tracks together, certainly closer than Jin and Hoseok had been before. There weren’t parks here, so you waited on a dusty corner.

“So the days of living free are behind you, then?”

Turning, you found a grinning Yoongi. Pulling Taehyung into a hug, he patted him on the back.

“I’m still living free,” Tae winked at him, “free to be where I want, with who I want.”

He pulled you into his side as a startled laugh escaped you.

“So cheesy,” Jimin grumbled next, embracing you both all the same.

Namjoon and Jungkook were also introduced. Taehyung so wanted your friends to get along with his, and you were overjoyed to see him grinning the whole time. Just as you suspected, they all fit right in together.

“You’ll come and visit us, right?” you made them promise as you left.

“We’ll join you as soon as we can,” Namjoon assured with a smile.

You weren’t sure if you should feel sad.

Turning your back on the car that pulled away after a brief final wave, you found nothing holding you back. Light as a feather, you raced up the steps, breathless by the time Taehyung reached you. A few strands of his midnight hair fell into his eyes as he laughed at you, that stunning grin lighting up his whole face.

But you were the same, unable to smile any wider.

“Here we go then, pidge,” he spoke, sweeping forward to press a kiss to your forehead.

Grasping your hand, the two of you stepped further onto the platform side by side. Every glance at your wonderful boyfriend showed his exhilarated grin never let up.

The train rolled in, hissing to a stop. For most of the people bustling along the station, it was as ordinary as anything, but you were practically bouncing, eagerly awaiting as the doors groaned open.

No sooner had you stored your small case overhead, Taehyung was tugging your hand. Falling onto his lap, neither of you wasted a moment finding each other’s lips, all smiles and hands on your cheeks and in his hair as the carriage heaved into life.

The tracks whizzed by below you, taking you to a city where they wouldn’t divide you.

Thank you so much for reading!💜let me know if you enjoyed it!

This series is done, but if you like my writing I have a permanent taglist too! Contact me to be added😊

Taglist: @aianloveseven @preciouschimine @kb-bangtanenthusiast @un2-verse @taegularities @wheresmymoniat @ttaechwita @dideedoll1996 @ggukkieland @wt-fxck @beach-bitch-bitch-beach @anon-coffee-lover​ 

[crystalsoobin-m]

memories lead to you || h.p.

masterlist - taglist - writing challenge

a/n: this is for vesuvia’s 400! Happy 400 ves! follow her if you haven’t yet, her writing is amazing! <3 prompt #24 - “This reminded me of you.” In Fluff dialogue. (if you are an adult, pls do not interact/read my work, i do not feel comfortable with it.) also this inspired by that one episode(s) of Love, Victor :) (this might be too angsty but i hope it works lmao)

pairing: adult!harry x adult!reader

summary: after separating from your boyfriend, something that reminds you of him makes you realize you can’t live without him.

warnings: angst, old memories, considerable kissing scene, reuniting, fluff at the end :))

“No, I- I think we should take a break for now.”

Those were the last words you heard your ‘boyfriend’ say before your heart broke. It had been your fault. He trusted you with a secret. Something personal and embarrassing in his eyes. And you let it slip to someone who barely even knew him.

You were trying to help him, but you still betrayed his trust. You had apologized but it was too late. You two had been having minor fights here and there lately, so it wasn’t just this incident.

You nodded, feeling the tears prickling your eyes and left his flat. Even though you didn’t want to take a break, you respected his decision and understood the reason for separating.

You left his flat crestfallen. How could you betray his trust like that? You thought to yourself.

For days, you stayed in bed, feeling sorry for yourself. But it’s not like it was even a big deal. You’re just taking a break, right.

Though it didn’t seem like it, Harry was just as heartbroken as you were. How could he not? He trusted you more than himself. He was anxiously contemplating forgiving you or staying mad at you.

Then, one day, you decided to get up and get your shit together. You aren’t fully broken up. He just needed some time. You cleaned your room. The kitchen. The bathrooms. The whole flat.

You were cleaning behind a shelf when you heard a noise, like a small sheet of paper falling to the ground. You bent down and picked it up.

It was a polaroid picture. Of you and Harry on your 3rd anniversary at the carnival. You were holding the camera, your smile carrying all the emotions of the wonderful evening. And Harry, was hugging an enormous fluffy elephant to his chest, which he had won, so very proudly.

You reminisced those days. Back when it was carefree and warm, like a loving embrace. You missed it, dearly. But how could you ever go back to his flat without facing the shame of what you did?

No. You’d just have to learn to live without him. You were convinced you could do it. You lived without your mother for years. If you could do that, you could do this.

But that didn’t go as planned. Everyday you thought about him. Your mind filled with thoughts of your beloved. You roamed around aimlessly, until you stumbled across the elephant.

The one in the picture at the carnival. Tears fell down your face. You couldn’t lie to yourself anymore. You can’t live without Harry.

You slipped on your shoes and ran out the door, toy elephant in hand. You hopped on the tube and got off in front of Harry’s apartment building.

Once you arrived at the door of his flat, you hesitated. Were you really expecting him to take you back just because of a stupid elephant? Screw it.

You rang the doorbell. It ringed for a few seconds before you heard a voice coming from inside,

“Coming! One second!” You heard stumbling from the other side of the door and then it opened.

There he stood. Wearing a grey hoodie and black sweatpants. It’s silly to think about the fact that you thought he looked flawless in that position. Just standing at the entrance of his flat with a slightly surprised expression.

“Hi.” You said breathlessly. You stared at him panting, from running to his flat. He stared back at your face, not even noticing the stuffed elephant in your hand.

“Y/n? What are you doing here?”

“This reminded me of you.” You held up the elephant with both hands. His eyes widened and he slowly took it from your hands. “Listen, before you say anything, I want to explain.”

He nodded.

“After you asked to take a break, I was of course, broken-hearted. I felt sorry for myself for days, I-”

“Where are you going with this, Y/n?” Harry asked slightly annoyed.

“Sorry, sorry. I’m not good at this stuff.”

“I know.”

“Okay, well- what i’m trying to say is, I am terrible for breaking your trust. I wronged you and I could never forgive myself for that. But while cleaning my flat, I found an photo. That time we went to the carnival, last year. I thought, ‘I must not go back. I can live without him, I can.’”

He raised an eyebrow, looking sceptical. He was starting to get tired of your pointless monologue. You need to get to the point.

“I was wrong. I can’t live without you. Thoughts of you fill my mind at every hour of the day. My dreams are filled with your voice. I can’t ever escape your faithful grasp, however much I might want to. I love you like bees love the pollen. So much in fact, that I feel my heart might burst.”

“Wow… uh…” You both burst out laughing. You had no idea how that came out of your mouth. But it sounded so stupid, along with Harry’s facial expression, that it made you laugh.

“But it’s true, Harry. I can’t live without you. Not ever. I’m so, so terribly sorry for what I did. My intention was never to hurt you-”

“I know that. I missed you so much these past few weeks. I can’t live without you either. I should’ve come to you sooner.”

“No, it’s okay.” You looked into each other’s eyes, and kissed. The kiss filled with emotions of longing and desire. Your lips finally reunited.

You separated for air and he dragged you into his flat. You both smiled and you tackled him onto the sofa. You kissed all over his face as he giggled softly.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” He grabbed your face and squished your cheeks.

“Stop apologizing. I love you.” He kissed your nose and threw the elephant at you.

“Hey!” You laughed. “I love you too.” You lied down on top of him and closed your eyes.

“What should we name the elephant?” You turned to look at your boyfriend.

“What?”

“I was thinking… Dory or… Mary…” You laughed loudly.

“Harry, those are so stupid.”

“No they’re not!”

“Yes they are!”

“Really? Do you have any suggestions?”

“Yes, Ella, Rose, Lily, Ben, Gray.”

“Okay, those are… those are good. You win.”

“Ha! See!”

“I guess you’ll be the one to name our children, then.” You smiled.

“Children?” Harry nodded,

“Mhm.”

“Fine by me.”

— @ladyvesuvia

[nanasparadise]

Please~ yandere la squadra with a darling that heals them after a battle? Angel 👼 anon but Christmas inspired~

Hi anon! I hope you had a beautiful Christmas! <3 I know I’m super late (T-T), but I hope you still enjoy the headcannons! Where I live, it’s still freezing cold, so the Christmas spirit still lingers a bit in the air.

!!!!! TW: mentions of blood and wounds, implied stalking, implied NSFW, toxic relationship, MATURE AUDIENCE ONLY !!!!!

I do not condone any yandere behaviour in real life.

Yan! La Squadra x gender-neutral Stand user reader who heals them during a battle (Christmas edition)

Yan! Risotto

Risotto hates to go to you for help: he likes to appear strong in front of you.

But the battle has been tough and his wounds are quite deep.

You rush immediately to the hitman, inspecting the severity of the wounds.

With your Stand, you’re able to heal him pretty fast and effectively.

Risotto keeps staring at you throughout the whole healing process, red eyes boring intensely into yours.

It does make you quite uncomfortable.

But you push that thought away and instead sigh: why did Risotto have to get into trouble on Christmas?

After you’ve patched him up, you try to look out for the other hitmen in case they need your help as well.

But the silver-haired man puts his calloused hands on your wrists under a tight grip and keeps fixating you.

You are surprised by his action, but he simply states that he needs you in this moment and that you shouldn’t worry about the others.

For Risotto, this admittance of weakness bothers the Italian. But he’d rather like you only for himself. The capo can’t help the feeling of jealousy and possessiveness rising up in him like bile whenever he sees you with the other team members – or anyone that isn’t him, for a fact.

You want to escape his grasp, but something in his gaze – something dangerous that you shouldn’t unleash – makes you remain by his side.

The capo bores again his intense eyes into yours. You feel as though he pierces right through your soul. For you, the quiet feels unbearable. On the other hand, for Risotto, this moment of calmness feels like bliss, like the perfect Christmas present, as he’s got everything he needs right next to him now.

“Good God, Risotto!” “It’s fine, it’s not as bad as it seems.”

“Risotto, could you please let me go? I need to look after the others.” “They’re fine. I need you more by my side.”

Yan! Illuso

Illuso comes back with blood covering his clothes. He weakly breaks down on the nearest chair, too exhausted from the battle and the wounds.

You immediately notice the deep cut on his torso. Rapidly, you hurry to his side.

Illuso’s face is adorned with his typical smug smile as you approach him, despite his injury and severe blood loss.

Swiftly, his wounds are healed with your Stand. During the process, the hitman goes on confidently about how he beat the enemy to a bloody pulp. Though you quickly notice his boasting is just to distract himself from the pain.

After you’ve helped him with his injuries, you’re about to see the other hitmen, but Illuso quickly stops you.

The Italian shoots you again one of his self-assured grins and asks you to come sit next to him. With a sigh, you do as he told you.

Illuso mentions how you shouldn’t waste your time with the other members of the team, especially not on Christmas. After all, he could give you a much better time and already has a gift for you…

After all, Illuso knows exactly what you want for presents. He took his time observing you through your mirror to find out everything he needs to know about you.

You feel highly uncomfortable by his comment. So you decide to stand up and leave.

But before you could truly escape the situation, Illuso takes your arm with an iron grip. He discreetly nods at the mirror in the room.

You understand immediately the underlying threat. Not wanting to be dragged into the mirror world, you simply swallow the lump in your throat and sit down again. Internally, you curse your Stand, knowing that it is practically useless in a fight…

Illuso smiles at your compliance, a dark spark glimmering in his red eyes.

The brunette babbles about how he’s gonna make this Christmas perfect for you.

“Of course he was no match for Man in the Mirror. You should have seen how I disfigured his face.” “Sure, Illuso…”

“Why don’t you stay a bit? These men don’t deserve your attention. I can make this Christmas so much better for you, tesoro.”

Yan! Formaggio

Unlike the other members of the team, Formaggio comes with a crooked grin and cracking jokes when he perceives your form. Even though his bloody and bullet-ridden body was nothing to make fun of, you thought.

The Italian groans from time to time when you heal him,  but he secretly also relishes the fact that you touch him so freely.

He keeps on talking about how he can’t wait for the holidays to be over so that the football season can start again. You simply roll your eyes and smile mindlessly at his comment.

Though the young man must admit that he likes the thought of you curled up in your arms while watching a cheesy holiday film.

You nervously chuckle, hoping this was just another one of his jokes.

But the green eyes that stare intensely back at you do make it hard to believe so.

You utter an apology, saying you should see the other hitmen, but your movement is halted by Formaggio’s hand on your upper arm.

The Italian flashes you another grin, though it appears much more sinister this time.

He suggest to stay, having already found the perfect film to watch for you two. You are well aware of the fact that it’s a threat, recognising the menacing edge in his voice.

You aren’t sure how to react: should you risk it and leave or should you just stay?

In the end, much to Formaggio’s satisfaction, you decide to remain with him. After all, this couldn’t be so bad. You two are friends, this doesn’t lead to something more, right?

Meanwhile, the hitman already plans the next intimate moments between you, not taking in account whether you want this or not.

“Well, look at that Y/N, I do give my name much honour with these holes in my body!” “Please Formaggio, don’t joke about that! You could have died.”

“C’mon babe, it’s just a nice evening between us! It’s Christmas, share the spirit, be kind and stay with me.”

Yan! Prosciutto

If it wasn’t for the trail of blood, you wouldn’t have noticed that Prosciutto is injured.

As usual, the blond hides his pain by putting on a perfect stoic face.

You heal him with your Stand, Prosciutto being silent during the treatment. You are shocked to see that his wounds are so deep.

After the process, you ask him about the battle. The assassin quickly gives you all the important information about the enemy, though he reassures you that they are dead now.

Prosciutto has a hard time keeping his professional façade up around you: he can’t help but feel touched by your sincere worry.

Wanting to share the information with the rest of La Squadra, you intend to leave the room. Though Prosciutto’s voice cutting through the air, that leaves no room for disobedience, stops you from doing so.

The Italian confidently asks you out for dinner, wanting to indulge you with his favourite Christmas recipe.

You raise an eyebrow at that invitation, shooting a questioning look at your colleague.

Prosciutto is fully aware of his out of character action, but you made him react untypically more often then you knew: when he kept thinking about you instead of concentrating on his mission, when he kept photos of you in his room, when he imagined your lips on his…

You politely decline his kind offer, pretending you don’t want to bother him. But it’s more the fact that your gut feeling says that something is wrong about the hitman’s sombre gaze.

Prosciutto clicks his tongue at your reaction. He simply takes ungently your hand and drags you out of the room.

You try as best to fight against him, but your resistance turns out to be futile.

The blond is visibly annoyed by your fighting. With The Grateful Dead, he ages your soft hand, leaving it all wrinkled.

You stare at your hand in distraught. You’re smart enough to see the threat behind his action. So you let him drag you out, too scared to act up again.

“Prosciutto, are you alright? You never say when you’re hurt.” “Showing weakness would put a bad example, now wouldn’t it?”

“Why must you always be so stubborn? I just want to take you out for dinner, it’s not too much asked for.”

Yan! Pesci

Pesci groans when he enters the room. He hates to see you worried because of him, but the battle left him in an excruciating pain.

You patch the hitman up as fast as you can, using your Stand efficiently.

During the healing process, the Italian’s dark eyes glisten with something you recognise as affection. You feel uncomfortable under his stare and don’t know how to react. You simply shove it off as him being an emotional friend and man in general.

Though his following words make it clear that he thinks of you more than just a colleague or friend.

Pesci gathers up all his courage. Shyly, he asks you if you would like to spend the remainder of the evening by his side. You could maybe bake some Christmas biscuits, if you like!

Immediately, pity blooms in your chest. You don’t want to hurt his feelings, knowing that he already suffers enough under the sneers of your teammates.

Still, you decline his offer. After all, you don’t want to falsely lead him on… To make it alright, you offer him to do something together with the team instead.

Already being emotional, Pesci’s eyes start to water. He insists spending time with you alone, nearly begging you.

The Italian goes on then about how he can never spend time with you alone… He just wants to participate for once and not being able to watch you doing activities with other people.

Majorly distressed by what he’s just told you, you don’t hesitate a second to leave the room, all sympathy for him gone.

The assassin doesn’t follow you, lucky for you.

Again, Pesci is all by himself, without your presence. It’s going to be a lonely Christmas for him.

“Thank you so much for healing me, Y/N! You’re really like an angel.” “Oh stop it, you’re exaggerating…”

“Please, I’m begging you to stay! It’s going to be fun, I promise! I just want you all for myself, just for once.”

Yan! Melone

It’s untypical for Melone to actively engage in a battle. So when he comes back from the mission, being wounded severely, you are more than surprised.

Even though you tend to avoid the rather lecherous man for his inappropriate comments towards you, you don’t hesitate to heal him. After all, he’s still your teammate.

Seeing you so willingly tending his injuries seems like an open invitation for the assassin to continue his usual dirty talk with you (which of course it isn’t).

He bathes into your warm touch on his cool, naked skin, caused by the cold temperature outside.

You wrinkle your nose at his rather disgusting remarks, threatening him to just let him bleed out the next time, to which the Italian only laughs.

After you’ve fully healed him, you intend to immediately rush out of the room, desperate to create some space between you and Melone.

Your escape appears to be fruitless though as a gloved hand grips tightly on your upper arm. The hitman has surprisingly lots of strength for his slim build.

With eyes of a predator, Melone lets his gaze wander over your body, lust and darkness swirling in his blue eyes.

You are unaware of how much he has longed for a moment with you. He’s grown tired of you avoiding him. You’re his perfect match: the compatible birth charts, the messages from the tarot cards, all of it let to you being his. Or so it should be, in his mind.

You are repulsed by him and do your best to get off from his grasp on you.

Melone doesn’t mind your resistance, perceiving it only as an encouragement for his advances.

He rambles about how he’s got some fun Christmas games prepared for you. Though you definitely don’t want anything about the nature of these supposed games…

With one final push, you finally manage to get out of his hold, a scowl adorning your face. Throwing a rude comment at him, you eventually leave Melone and his creepy tendencies.

The Italian watches you storming off, a smirk on his face. He doesn’t worry about this incidence. He will get you afterwards, he’s made sure off it.

“You should touch me more often like that, amore.” “You’re disgusting Melone, next time I’ll leave you out to die.”

“I’ve got some special games for you prepared. And if you behave well, I make sure to give you a gift.” You get sick to your stomach at his words.

Yan! Ghiaccio

Ghiaccio seethes with anger as he stumbles through the door. Why did he have to get attacked this bad by the enemy? Though he’s more than proud to have annihilated them.

As you see the man clutching his wounded side enter, you make your way to him to heal him, earning a scornful look by the prideful Italian.

What you don’t know is that his ego is only that big because he wants, like Risotto, appear strong in front of you.

During the healing process, a string of insults escape the assassin’s mouth. You roll your eyes at the dramatic behaviour.

Ghiaccio has a hard time to express his affection for you. At first, he has been annoyed by you infiltrating his mind, but now he has grown tender to it. He wishes he could be more soft with you, but having his feelings under control has never been his strong suit. Though he wants to try it today, because what day could be better than Christmas?

You grow uncomfortable by the hitman’s intense gaze. Tentatively, you ask him if everything’s alright.

Ghiaccio snaps out of his thoughts. Impulsively, he just blurts out if you wanna spend Christmas with him.

He keeps on going, saying that he usually hates the cheesiness that comes with the holiday, but he would like to make it a nice experience for you, with him by your side…

You interrupt his rambling by saying that you already spend the holidays with your family off-base.

Hearing your answer, the assassin’s hot anger returns. He’s making an effort for you, could you not see that? Why would you decline his offer then?

You are about to leave him as suddenly ice hits your feet and legs and you are frozen to the floor, giving you no choice as to remain in the room.

Ghiaccio didn’t mean to use White Album on you, but he can’t help it if you act so stubborn and ungrateful. Now you would spend Christmas with him for sure.

“This little son of a-“ “Ghiaccio please, calm down.”

“Spend Christmas with me. I know, I hate this corny shit, but with you, it will be more bearable.”

[hey-its-nonny]

Wishes

Aragorn x reader

okay this will be my last angsty fic i promise

I’m excited to announce that this fic is a collaboration! i wrote this with @wishingtobeinadifferentuniverse and i am super pleased with it!

chap. six of In Between is out, so be sure to check that out. ANYWAYS this is inspired by the song Heather by Conan Gray :)

let the heartbreak commence <3

~~~~~

You woke in a restored Gondor, eyes fluttering open at the beams of golden sunlight seeping through your window. The day you‘d dreaded for months had finally come. It was the day Aragorn was to be wed to his love, Arwen.

You rose, already mourning your loss of your friend and your love. You didn’t know how you could stay, concealed in the dark. Hiding. Ignoring your emotions and acting as if they didn’t exist was a difficult task. But, if it meant Aragorn would be happy, you would try your best, unsure of what might come of it.

Slowly, you slid on your dress, the silky fabric brushing your legs. It was a beautiful gown, one that Arwen had made especially for you. It fit perfectly, snug around your waist and flaring out. In your favorite color, too.

The necklace Aragorn had given you laid heavily on your neck. It felt wrong to be wearing it to this event, but without it, you didn't feel whole.

And with a look in the mirror, you sighed, a saddened smile gracing your lips while you prepared yourself for what would be one of the saddest days of your life.

You thought back to a better time when everything was easier. When your love for Aragorn had bloomed.

It was a cold night. You and Aragorn had gone on yet another adventure together through the hours of the night. After plenty of frolicking and distractions, you’d both agreed that it was time to eat.

You’d decided a warm soup was the way to go, and Aragorn agreed with you on that as well. And while you waited for your meals, you talked around pointless things, avoiding the affection that was blossoming.

You were teasing him, pushing him around, baiting him. When he finally retaliated, he accidentally hit your soup out of your hands. The target for the food? your clothes. Your shirt was covered, and you stifled a laugh while Aragorn looked mortified.

You winced a bit at how hot your soup was, as well as the fact that you could no longer eat it, since it was so elegantly spilled on your shirt.

“Y/N, I am so sorry. Here, let me- I can-” The poor man rambled, looking for a cloth to dry your shirt. You couldn’t help but giggle at how flustered he was, though the fiery wrath of the soup was definitely a contender for your attention.

Yet still, you laughed, opening your bag with a hum. “Aragorn, I’m sure I have a spare shirt in my pa- What? Where is it?” You quietly gasped, Aragorn’s eyes brightening.

“Take mine, Y/N. I have a spare.” He stated, the red on his cheeks dissipating.

Your gentle hands gingerly grasped the shirt as you stood, sharply inhaling at the temperature of the soup. “I’ll be back.”

After a minute or two, you walked over to the table and sat down, cozier than ever in Aragorn’s off-white shirt. You offered a smile and caught Aragorn’s eye, his shocked expression warming your cheeks. “It is a little big, I will admit, but it will do until I get a fresh change of clothing.” You grinned, biting back a smile.

“Keep it.” Aragorn smiled, the corners of his eyes crinkling in the slightest and sweetest of ways. “It looks better on you than it looked on me.” He stated, inhaling a breath after stealing another glance at you.

You still had that shirt, after all the time that passed.

Those were fond memories you had of him, but fleeting. You smoothed your dress down and slipped on your shoes. Another memory came to haunt you, the emotions overwhelming.

You were wandering Rivendell when you heard a giggle. You had turned a corner, finding Aragorn, his lips glued to Arwen’s. You cleared your throat, causing them to break apart, looking at you sheepishly.

Arwen spoke softly, “Oh, I am sorry about that. We didn’t know anyone else would come here.” Of course, she didn’t know that Aragorn and you had spent many hours in this same place. You avoided his gaze and hid your emotion, laughing instead.

“Oh I have so many things I could say, but most important of all, I could tell everyone!” You paraded around them, joking of course. They laughed along, not truly seeing how much this hurt you. And you would keep it that way.

The decorations were beautiful. You gazed upon the arch that Aragorn was to be wed under, trailing down the cascading vines and flowers. You counted at least a hundred guests.

If it weren’t for the emotions you felt at the moment, you might have smiled just because of how beautiful everything looked.

The bells rang, signifying that the ceremony would start soon, and you took a sharp breath. Your stomach churned like you were about to face the armies of Mordor alone. But it wasn’t the time to be afraid. It was time to be Aragorn’s friend.

The very man that your thoughts were formed around jogged up to you, handsome as ever. His armor contrasted his eyes beautifully, and the smile he wore made you melt.

“Y/N. Just the woman I wished to see.” He grinned, placing a hand on your shoulder while you returned the smile.

You hummed, straightening your back. “What do you need?” You asked, ready to do whatever he needed.

“A friend.” He replied, indicating that he was nervous.

“You’ll be fine, Aragorn.” You smiled, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Everything will go smoothly, I assure you.”

The man nodded, a dreadful sigh escaping his lips once the bells rang again. Of all the things you’d said today, the three words that left your lips were some of the hardest to get out. “Go get her.”

Once everyone was settled, the ceremony began with Elrond giving Arwen away. You watched Aragorn closely, the way his eyes lit up when Arwen was unveiled, the pure love and devotion he had for her nearly killing you. You had no idea it would be this hard. Tears pricked at your eyes when they kissed and you were glad you could blame it on the “beauty” of the moment.

You watched Aragorn lead Arwen down the aisle, each step a dagger in your chest. No matter how strong you wanted to be for Aragorn, you couldn’t watch this any longer. Your strained smile slowly disappeared as they walked out of sight. You had to get out of there.

So, when he wasn’t looking, you quietly slipped away, allowing the tears to finally fall. What you didn’t know, however, was that he saw you walk away, more confused and worried than ever.

Once you were far enough, you broke into a sprint. You needed to get as far away from there as fast as you could. You slipped your shoes off, the cold and roughness of the stone adding to your anguish. Upon reaching the garden, you sobbed, collapsing onto the stone ground where you once stood. You couldn’t control it. Your shoulders softly shook as you cried, feeling nothing but sorry for yourself. You thought you could watch Aragorn give a special part of himself to Arwen. You really did. But you couldn’t.

And you hated yourself for it. You held your head in your hands, sniffling quietly into the silence. You never got to tell him how much better he made you. You never got to hug him as Arwen would. You never got to laugh at his flirtatious jokes like Arwen would be able to. You never got to kiss him as Arwen would. But then again, why would he ever kiss someone like you? You weren’t even half as pretty as her.

Too lost in your own sorrow, you didn’t hear Aragorn’s footsteps approaching. Something about rangers, they always knew how to stay quiet and test the situation. Upon seeing you, he removed his crown, kneeling beside you with worry written on his sharp features. “Y/n? Y/n, why are you upset?” The worried man asked, gently grasping your trembling shoulders.

You flinched under the touch, shrinking away from the touch. “It is nothing, Mellon. Please, go be with yo- Arwen. Were you not just betrothed?” You asked, wiping away the salty teardrops on your cheeks.

While you stood to leave, Aragorn mimicked your actions, blocking your exit. “Y/n, please. I only wish to help,” He pleaded, following your gaze. He gently grabbed your chin, sending a shiver down your spine while he forced you to look at him.

“Aragorn, please let me go.” You sniffled, lip quivering while your eyes begged him to leave.

Aragorn frowned, giving one final attempt at helping you. He couldn’t know. He could never know. “Was it Arwen? Gandalf? I do not know what could have upset you in such a way.” He frowned, brow creased in worry.

Finally, you couldn’t take it anymore. No more games, or guessing, or hiding from it. You’d tried so hard, only for it all to come crashing down in flames before your eyes. “It’s you, Aragorn!” You cried, hot tears streaming down your cheeks while throwing your hands out.

You laughed a sad laugh, backing away from the man you’d loved for countless years. “It’s always been you.” You croaked weakly, your voice brittle and defeated. Aragorn was still confused. He cautiously stepped forward, taking your hands in his own. “Y/n, what do you mean?” He asked, clearly worried that he’d hurt you in some way.

You shook your head, biting your lip while you trained your gaze on the ground. “Nothing. It’s nothing. Just-” You smiled, shaking your head as you met his gaze. “Just go be with her. You need to be with her.”

But instead of walking away, Aragorn shook his head. “Y/n, we cannot keep circling amongst each other like this. Please, tell me what I’ve done to hurt you.” He pleaded, worry and remorse engraved in his expression.

You took a shaky breath, tearing up once again. “I can’t, Aragorn.” You admitted, the cost of saying the words far more than you were willing to give. “If I do, I will have to leave.” You choked, willing away the tears.

Aragorn sighed, determination set in his jaw. “Whatever you are facing, Y/n, whatever comes, I will face it beside you.” He stated, confidence and truth behind the words. You hated how perfect he was. Always an amazing friend, but not for much longer.

Finally, after a minute of silence, you decided that if you were going to leave Gondor for the rest of your days, you might as well make it memorable. “Forgive me, Aragorn.” You pleaded, leaning in to steal a kiss from Aragorn.

He hummed in surprise, but didn’t back away, eyes fluttering shut. You relished in the feeling, your hand on his warm, stubbly cheek. It was incredible. Until the both of you realized what was happening. You gasped, backing away from the kiss. “I-“ You stammered, quickly going into a panic. “I’m sorry. I don’t know why I did that.” You breathed, stumbling out of the garden.

You felt like such an idiot. All of the nights wasted in tears rushing back to haunt you as you ran away from the love you’d held onto so dearly. You ran as fast as you could for the forest, clutching the necklace Aragorn had given you. Habit.

Little did you know, Aragorn decided to run after you, desperate to clean up the mess you’d made. You ran, skillfully weaving throughout the trees to lose Aragorn.

Once you thought you were far enough, you leaned against a tree, dirt marks along your arms and legs. That was the last time you would ever see Aragorn. You wasted it. So, you cried. Then you decided you would move on. Start over.

Aragorn approached, careful not to startle you. You looked up, resting your head against the tree with an irritated sigh. “I can’t stay.” You whispered, your defeated tone letting Aragorn know just how much of a toll this took on you.

Aragorn frowned, the glisten of a tear catching your eye. “Why? We can forget it happened, Y/n. We can make this right.” He suggested, a pleading in his voice that you’d only heard a handful of times. It hurt.

“We can’t. I have to leave.” You replied, forcing yourself to look at him. “I love you, Aragorn. I always have and will. Nothing can ever change that. So, unless you have miraculously realized that it is not Arwen, but me you love, which I highly doubt, I’m leaving.” You explained, standing with a sigh, knowing Aragorn would try to follow.

He stood, watching while you unclasped the necklace Aragorn gave you. “Goodbye, Aragorn.” You spoke defeatedly, gently grasping his hands to place the necklace in them.

“Y/n, anything you wish, I will do. Just stay.” He asked one final time, slow tears falling down his cheeks.

You pressed a kiss to his cheek, wiping away his tears with your thumb. “I wish I were Arwen.” And with that, you walked away, thankful that Aragorn didn’t try to follow.

~~~ i LOVED writing this!!! if any of you writers ever wanna collaborate, hmu!!

tags: @eru-vande @thewhiteladyofrohan @from-patroclus-with-love @elvish-sky @lady-latte @entishramblings

[lairofsentinel]

Do you think Oskar Fevras the artist whom you can buy in any way mirrors Gale? His story reminded me a bit of Gale’s in the whole hung up on your first love thing

Hello there!

Let me explain you how I understand Oskar Fevras. I think that may be an important key to see what I'm going to be concluding.

Oskar has the pretence of being a noble, and likes too much wealth and fame. His patron is his betrothed: Lady Jannath. The Jannath are a  family of wealthy mine-owners in BG, who, according to the Main Char's "gossip" knowledge, have been passing through a scandal when they realised that Oskar was a commoner. Apparently Oskar is known as the runaway groom for this.

I'm not so sure to believe that the problem in all his drama is his commoner past. But he doesn't clarify it in a very explicit way. We only have this information from the narrator and it's like a "rumour", something you picked in the air in the city's gossip, so it can be slightly different.

He clarifies that the date of the marriage was never set... but clearly the intention was there. What happened? "Complications", he adds.

Oskar tells you that before his fame as a painter and his affair with Lady Jannath, there was another woman he wanted to spend his life with [which make me assume he was with her until the last moment of the proposal] but when he was offered marriage with Lady Jannath, who gave him a better future because her wealth, he thought "important to tell her about his past".

These lines are a bit inconsistent in their logic, no? You love a woman you want to marry, but then another one very wealthy, asks you marriage and you consider to tell her "you are a commoner" [if we assume the rumour is true].... There is no much connection with the concepts... unless Oskar is saying other thing in his vague way of explaining this story.

In my opinion, he is saying:

I was with this woman I wanted to spend my life with. But on the other hand, I wanted to be famous and wealthy, so I started a serious afair with a person who would support my art: Lady Jannath [it's implied he became her lover without never telling her he was with the first woman]. All was done in order to have fame and wealth. Then Lady Jannath proposes him marriage, and he considers it's reasonable to tell her about "his past" [his past as in, there is another woman, there was always another woman]. This scandal triggered, and because we are talking about a noble family in BG, we know they can control rumours, so they preferred to make it about his "commoner" past instead of his double-cheating.

When he explained his past to Lady Jannath, he was "forced" to escape and think about who to "choose". He doesn't know yet. "Fame and wealth suit me very well." But when he thinks in his first love... he hesitates. He says all this with a very light tone, yet, he makes of this a big dilemma, almost a performance of drama: to choose between true love or wealth to develop his skills.

I may have taken all this a bit more serious if it weren't for the last line he says. If something I've learnt by reading a lot of books of narrative and how to write narratives, is that professionals don't put useless lines in the character's mouths to be wasted. They have meaning.

When the rescue is finally done, he asks for money to fight the "discomfort of the road", and, unless this has been changed in this last patch [I don't play BG3 since patch 2 or 3] he says something that makes you understand that he is going to spend this money in alcohol [he says something along the lines "well, I should endure the road sober then"]. So this last bit showed us that he is not really a very trustworthy person, he hides the truth just to take some extra benefit of the situation [we don't see a real struggle in all this, more like a performance of a struggle].

It's true the situation is a bit vague and this interpretation may be wrong, but Oskar is not exactly an honest char. He has his love for over-dramatisation and present himself as the victim in situations that are not thaaaaat bad.

Now, how all this is similar to Gale? I'm afraid I don't see much similarity, sorry. You can stretch things a lot to make Lady Jannath to look like Mystra [Mystra is the one who gave Gale the deepest connection with the Weave, which is something that brings him joy and sense in life to Gale. She is a kind of "patron" for Gale? It's too stretched, Mystra is a goddess of particular behaviour in her lore] ... but you also can connect her with the first woman by using the weak link of "being Gale's first love". Where the Main Character fits in all this analogy? How all this situation has a relationship with Gale, his abandonment issues caused by a powerful, immense entity as Mystra, and how he made dire mistakes to get her attention again, like all devotees do in this crazy Faerûn? I don't see it, sorry. Gale's first love was Mystra, the most powerful goddess of the pantheon of Faerûn. Oscar's first love was a mortal woman. I'm afraid I can't see much to relate there beyond the fact that "people have first loves" that imprint a strong effect in a person's life [which is true for almost all humans in real life].

I'm not sure if maybe this question is motivated by all those terrible takes that Gale receives in this fandom. I think a lot of people have serious problems with the fact that Gale has an ex. For this, people are a mixture of being offended by that and also treat the party scene as if it were a "big" revelation, which is not?. Sure, he has an ex that inspires him complicated emotions but it's clear he wants to get rid of that event and move on.

Gale never plays two sides. He is always very clear about the fact of having secrets, about his boundaries [another thing that the fandom doesn’t forgive him], and how complicated is for him to speak about Mystra. If you get nice rolls, you can even tell Gale that he is dreaming with Mystra [like, the game makes you AWARE of it XD]... And he also tells you that the tadpole dreams are about power and desire... I mean, if the guy says that, and then dreams with Mystra....why some people are offended/surprised after the party!??? haha. The biggest mystery in this fandom.

Sure, the scene is not handled in the best ways, there are some weird lines, everything looks so high-school cheap drama. I get that... I don't know, we have to blame it for being Early Access and for Gale not being Larian's fave.  But well... Gale has an ex. It's a fact, and one can know that very early if the fucking game couldn't be soooooo shitty bugged with his char.

Here is one of my videos [very old patch as you can see] where we can see the second dream: He says "These dreams are about desire", I pick the option of Mystra. "Yes, I dream with Mystra". You know by your own dreams that these dreams are very sexual in general... So, conclusion? Gale has an ex.

Oskar is playing with two women at the same time in the worst case scenario. In the best one, he abandoned his first love to follow wealth. Her first love [that, let's be honest, how much he loved her that he had no problem to cheat on/abandon when it comes to fame and wealth?] was put aside in favour of this noble. Then he leaves the noble one because he is unable to choose. He was the one who abandoned [or cheated, we can't say completely because it's vague] two women, not the other way around... Plus, to make things even more different, there is this small detail that the fandom always seems to be blind about because most of them only know Dragon Age lore: Mystra is the most powerful goddess in the damn pantheon xD Gale was a plaything in her grasp [this is the worst case scenario; I have a secondary interpretation, more kind to her, focused on Mystra's point of view]. But there is something very strong here that make these comparison too out of any frame to compare: She is not a normal woman... her power is not even compared with Jannath's. She is a Goddess.

So, in short: I'm afraid I don't see much in common. XD I mean, everyone has exes, every person with some age has a past even in Faerûn. Sure, this is Faerûn, so exes can go wild, I get it. XD And having exes is not always a "finished business" [specially when that comes with abandonment issues], but more like a WIP: something to deal with unresolved emotions from past partners that you want to move on, and sometimes a new partner may help you [or make everything worse]. I always read Gale that way.

Thanks for the ask!

[glenncoco4]

You Can Count On Me

A/N: Chapter 3 Inspired by 1x23 (Burned)

••••

She needs to get out tonight. Away from the swirling turmoil that’s going on inside her head right now. It’s been two weeks since they lost Dom, two weeks since she found herself standing at the sink in his dark apartment washing dishes. She finds herself thinking about how great of an agent he would’ve made had he been given the chance to grow. She also finds herself yearning for the touch and comfort of her best friend, who she now realizes is the love of her life, and it took loosing Dom to finally admit it to herself.

Something shifted the last time they were together, she’s not quite sure what it is or why after 18 years of knowing him its showing up now but her feelings for him have intensified. The problem is is that she’s not sure how he would react if she came out right and told him that she in fact was in love with him. Would he run? Would he politely reject her? Would their friendship remain intact? But there’s also a chance that he doesn’t turn her down, that he tells her he feels the same way and they live happily ever after. That’s the hope she’s holding onto. 

She knows its not healthy to just stay inside and worry about her swarming thoughts while she waits for him to come back. It’s Monday night, she deserves to let loose a little and she knows exactly what she’s going to do.

••••

The music is pounding which mirrors the pounding in his head. Seriously how does he always end up with marks that spend all their time in clubs surrounded by drugs and women. He looks over at the other side of their reserved VIP area where Emilio and Luis are both tongue deep in some of their admirer’s mouths.

Rubbing his forehead to try and help coax his headache away, he suddenly feels the air shift. His cerulean blues scan the room in search and eventually land on her.

Luis pulls back from the leggy blonde in his lap and notices the lawyer’s fixation on something across the club floor, looking in the same direction, he spots her, a knowing smile crosses his face. “Hey, Milio, looks like our boy spotted some eye candy.”

Sliding the brunette’s legs off his lap, Emilio stands up and makes his way over to the lawyer. He takes a seat next to the blonde, smiling. “Oh, papi, she’s quite the looker. You gonna let her slip away?”

“No, I don’t think I am.” He takes a sip of bourbon to calm his nerves. Standing up, Dale straightens out his sports coat before taking a few steps down to the dance floor. He turns back to look at his boss with a devilish grin on his face. “If you don’t hear from me the rest of the night it’s because I’m riding a little wild surf.”

An approving smile crosse the crime boss’ face. “That’s my boy.”

Maneuvering his way across the dance floor towards the bar, he slowly feels his Dale John Sully persona slip away and Marty Deeks start to break through. The first thing he notices as he walks up to her is how fantastic the skin tight mini she’s wearing accentuates her firm derrière. 

Her attention is on the bartender giving him ample opportunity to slide up behind her, his breath warm against her ear. “Hey there. Noticed your boots. Takes a girl with a unique style to pull that off.”

An unfamiliar but welcomed chill runs through her body when she hears his voice. She’s finally able to relax for the first time in 2 weeks. “Well it takes a special kind of guy to sit through 2 hours of Donnie & Marie.”

“Oh, touché.”

She turns, unable to stop the smile from spreading to her face. His cerulean blues have a dark hue to them, a blueish grey that she’s never been on the receiving end of. Before she can think any more of it, her brow furrows in confusion. “What are you doing here?”

He tilts his head back towards the VIP section that he just came from just as a loud cheer from the booth erupts when Luis pops another bottle of champagne. “The boss just negotiated a deal with a major player in our case.”

“Is it okay for you to be talking to me?”

“Yeah, told him I was gonna go ride a little wild surf.” His lip curls into a smirk as he watches Kensi’s eyes go wide. “Dance with me.”

She knows they should both be more cautious, especially since he’s in the middle of a major undercover op right now but as he offers her his hand, she can’t help her actions as she places her hand in his.

He leads her out to the dance floor, quickly wrapping his arms around her waist, pressing his body against hers. Before he knows it his forehead meets hers, their eyes locked on to one another. They’ve danced before of course, but nothing like this, no this is so far from what they’ve ever done.

As everything around them fades away, the pair is suddenly brought to the realization of what it means to be at peace.

Their positions soon shift as Kensi burrows her head into the crook of his neck, her hands going around his waist as she clings to him. It’s when he hears her inhale and feels her body sink into his hold that he knows what those little glances and feelings they were exchanging last time they saw each other were. Love. And not just any kind of love, passionate irrevocably head over heals love. “I heard about Dom. I’m so sorry, Kens.”

She does her best to hold back her tears, but not before a few escape, landing on the cotton of his button up. “I should’ve watched out for him more. I screwed up.”

He should’ve seen this coming, if there’s one thing his best friend does best it’s beat herself up for things she has no control over. Pulling back from their embrace, his hands find either side of her face as he cradles her head. His eyes trying to convey everything that words can’t. “No, you didn’t. Kens, this is not your fault.”

“How could you say that? He was my partner and I let him down.”

“Remember what you told me my first night at your house?”

“I said, ‘you can count on me.’” 

“Right, and I told you the same. So believe me when I say that there was nothing you could’ve done to stop what happened to Dom from happening.” 

She shakes her head in acceptance, wiping the tears away from her eyes. “I wish we could hang out tonight.”

“Maybe we can.”

“How? You’re undercover.”

His mind begins to form a plan, knowing that Emilio and Luis are probably watching them, Deeks doesn’t hesitate as he slowly moves in towards her. “Just follow my lead.”

Her brow furrows in confusion and quickly morphs to shock as his lips find hers. She’s stunned at first but once she realizes what’s happening, her body responds.

He just intended for the kiss to last long enough for them to sell a cover, but the warmth and caress of her soft lips have him swiping his tongue across them, begging for entrance. 

As their kisses grow more heated and their tongues continue to duel, the brunette moans as her best friend runs his fingers through her hair. Those equal fervor kisses soon leading to wandering hands with the new revelation of their relationship.

••••

He quickly finds the zipper of her dress ridding her of the scrap of clothing and presses her against the hotel room wall. His lips working along her jaw down to her neck. She presses her hips into his, making the tent in his pants beg to be freed. Her fingers grasp onto his golden locks as his touch fills her with more pleasure than she thought was ever possible. 

She’s on the cusp of release, feeling that he’s going too slow, her hands find the button of his slacks and works to free him from the restricting fabric. 

Realization suddenly hits him that this is officially headed to a place that they could never come back from. Pulling back from his ministrations, his dark blue eyes lock on with her magnetic chocolate orbs. God how he loves those eyes. “What are we doing?”

“I think it’s pretty clear what we’re doing.” She states mater of fact, her lips finding the sweet spot on his neck, loving the way his body reacts to her touch. 

“No, Kens, what-“

She pulls back from her ministrations, abruptly cutting him off. “I don’t know how to do this.”

His brow furrows in perplexity, unsure of the meaning behind her words. “Do what?”

Taking a deep breath, she understands that this is the moment. Either he runs or he stays. “Pretend that every time I see you, I don’t want to wrap my arms around you and never let go. I don’t know how to go on when every time you go under my heart goes with you.”

“What are you saying?”

“I want you.” Her eyes now shining with a blissful openness.

His mouth turns up into a slow smile, a sudden onset of disbelief filling his mind. What does he say to her? I love you? That could be too much too soon. Well they have been friends for 18 years, and know everything they need to know about the other. Maybe they should get married. No, that’d definitely be too much. Turns out he doesn’t have to respond because her lips are on his once again and her hands find their way into his boxers before he’s pulling her towards the bed where he’s able to show her what he feels when his words failed to. 

••••

There’s a irritating buzzing sound right in his ear, pulling him out of his deep and restful sleep. His brow furrows at the unfamiliar room around him along with the bed he’s in...the warm naked body of his best friend curled around his. It feels like a dream and a nightmare all rolled into one. 

He loves her, that he can’t deny. But they’re in some gross hotel and he’s undercover, this wasn’t supposed to go this way. When he wasn’t around Emilio and his crew and back at the confines of his own shitty undercover apartment, his mind would wander to what could be with his best friend. Something in the last few months shifted in their relationship, it wasn’t anything he could define at the moment, but last night made him realize what that aching in his chest was. It was his love for her, his person, the most important thing in his world. He’d find himself thinking about their lives and how intertwined they were. 

His phone buzzes once again, pulling him back to the present. When he reads the text, a defeated sigh falls from his lips. Placing a kiss to the top of her head, he slowly maneuvers himself from her grasp, trying best not to disturb her. 

He quickly gets dressed, writes a note for her and places on his pillow. Just because he can’t help himself, he places a kiss to her bare shoulder, earning a happy moan from his love...well the woman he loves anyway. He stands back up, taking a few more seconds to look at her, relishing in their activities a few hours ago and it gives him the energy he needs to get this op over with and get back to her. 

Walking towards the door, he gives her one last glance before whispering. “I want you, too.”

••••

She startles awake at the sound of a car alarm blaring through the walls. Quickly examining the room around her, flashes of last night as his lips placed kisses over every inch of her and their naked bodies sliding against one another in a passionate state of ecstasy sends a warm feeling to her lower belly. 

Speaking of her best friend, she looks around the room trying to gage where he may be until something on the pillow next to her catches her eye and that’s when it hit her...she screwed up.

KayKay, 

Had to get back. Turns out you’re not the only one that missed this beautiful Viking mane.

- Your Person 

P.S. Remember what I said, partner. 

She face plants into “his” pillow internally chastising herself. What did she get herself into?

••••

Stepping into the bullpen, Kensi begrudgingly sits her bag on her desk gaining the attention of her co-worker.

Sam doesn’t know if he should ask but considering her best friend is out of commission he knows whatever’s eating at her needs a sounding board. “What’s up Kens?”

Her irritated facade thankfully works, and she quickly spins around, a hint of anger swirling in her mismatched eyes. “Do guys ever think about what comes out of their mouths before they try to hit on a woman?”

“Uh-oh, what happened?”

“So, last night, I’m having a drink at the place Macy took me after my first shootout. Just wanted some alone time. But this guy walks over...attractive, well-dressed, bonus points for taking the lead. You know the drill all too well. Guess what he used as his opener.”

“Hi. My name is Mr. I have no idea what I’m in for. Can I buy you a drink?”

“See? Now, there wouldn’t have been anything wrong with that. But that’s not what he said. ‘Hey there. Noticed your boots. Takes a girl with a unique style to pull that off.’”

“He was running game.”

Shaking her head in annoyance, she takes a seat at her desk. “Yeah, well if I ever see him again, he’s gonna be running for a whole different reason.”

[silkeris]

pov

song fic inspired by ariana grande's new song "pov" literally just been played on repeat and only included the first half of it soft sakusa bc uwu <3

also give sakusa the benefit of the doubt since msby got a major win

Contrary to popular belief, Kiyoomi Sakusa was a loving boyfriend. Although his public persona is known to be distant and cold, when it was just the two of you, he was expressive. He expressed his love through simple actions such as remembering the little things, important dates, your favorite snacks, and through his words.

it’s like you got superpowers turn my minutes into hours

Sakusa had a way of captivating an audience. Whether at a MSBY Jackals practice match or game, the audience would hold their breath just to see him spike the ball. When it was just the two of you, you would be hanging on to every word, knowing that they would have significance if Sakusa spoke them.

“When did you know you first loved me?” You asked him.

You both were lying on the couch in your shared apartment. Your back against his chest, his arms cradling your body and holding your hand.

“Hmm…” He ponders for a second. “Probably when I was done with my first practice of being an official member of the Jackals. You waited for me after practice. You were eating strawberry pocky when I was was on my way out.”

Flashback

Kiyoomi Sakusa was walking out of the team’s locker room when he saw you waiting in the lobby. You were finishing your favorite snack while looking at your phone when a figure approached you. You saw it was one of the players with badly bleached hair.

“What’s a pretty lady like yer doing here?” Miya Atsumu asked.

You rolled your eyes. “Even after college, I still can’t seem to escape from grasps of you.”

Atsumu gasped and held his heart as if you shot him. He said dramatically, “Even after all of these years, I still don’t have a chance?”

“Sorry Miya-san, but if there was ever a chance in the first place, I would go for your twin.”

He gaped at you. Before he could get a word in, you said, “Plus, I’m here for someone else anyways.”

This was when Sakusa walked towards you two and interrupted the conversation. He asked, “You ready?”

You turned and smiled at him, “Mhmm.”

Atsumu looked at the both of you and pointed fingers at both of you. “Uhh, wait what? Omi Omi, when, how, and where?’

He then pointed at you, “And you! Yer telling me that you wanted all that when you could’ve had all of this?” He then pointed to himself.

Sakusa decided that he didn’t want to be around Atsumu any longer and said, “Miya-san, please go take a shower. You’re infecting Y/N with your germs.”

Giggling, you and Sakusa left a raging Atsumu behind and started heading out the door. You pulled hand sanitizer out of your bag and poured some out for yourself and Sakusa. When you returned the hand sanitizer to its original place, the two of you linked your hands together. Sakusa wasn’t a big fan of PDA but he knew you loved small gestures such as this, and he had to admit that holding your hand made his chest feel all fuzzy and warm.

The two of you walked along a path of sakura trees, wind gently blowing causing a petal to fall in your hair. Sakusa turns to you and pulls the petal out of your hair and it causes you to blush.

“Well, what should we have for dinner?” You asked him.

you got more than 20/20, babe made of glass, the way you see through me

He rolled his eyes and answered, “Why even bother ask when you always crave the same thing?”

You giggled and said, “So you’re okay having unagi-don for the third night in a row?”

He grunts and gives you a look in response.

“Well, it’s not my fault that your favorite food is umeboshi.” You crinkled your nose and continued on, “Like aren’t you only supposed eat them when you’re sick? And don’t get me started on…”

At this point, Sakusa spaced out. He focused on how quickly your mouth was moving and the fact that you started talking with your hands. He thought that you have never looked lovelier under the sakura tree, the wind gently blowing through your hair. He saw another petal fall get blown into your hair and he picked it with his free hand.

You started slowing down your rant when his hand reaches towards your hair again. You look up at him and notice that his mask is pulled down. You stare into his eyes as he captures your lips with his. You kiss him sweetly, pouring your heart and soul into him.

He pulls away and tucks a hair behind your ear.

“What was that for?” You asked, a bit breathless from the kiss.

“I love you.” He tells you.

You freeze. You then crouch down and bury your face in your hands. Your face is flushed red.

“Omi, you can’t just spring that on a girl.” You dramatically tell him. “Give a girl some warning.”

You stand back up and on your tip toes, you peck him on the lips before you readjust his mask.

“I love you Omi.” You tell him with a bright smile on your face.

He then smiles a small smile but by the way his eyes twinkle, you know he’s on the moon. It’s the same way it twinkles when he wins a game or when he comes home to you.

You hid your face in your hands again and blushed a deep red.

“You seriously caught me off guard when you told me that.” You tell him, embarrassed.

He shrugged and said, “You never looked more beautiful in that moment.”

You blushed and your face ended up in your hands again.

***

you know me better than i do can’t seem to keep nothing from you

You could never really hide anything from Kiyoomi Sakusa. He would pick up sudden changes in your mood through the way your eyes would sometimes cloud over when you were deep in thought or the way when crease between your eyebrows deepened.

Sakusa had just come back from an away game. He walked out of the bathroom, towel still in his hand trying to dry his hair. You notice him and lead him to the couch, where you tell him to sit down and hand over the towel.

You start to towel dry his hair, gently running your fingers through to detangle his locks. You chew on your lips, deep in thought. During this time, you usually would be updating what has been going on since he was gone. Usually you would inform him about the grandma that would run the small grocery store around the corner, or how the old grandpa at the park still wouldn’t stop smoking no matter how many times you’d nag him.

“Y/N. What’s wrong?” He catches your fingers and laces his through yours. He looks up towards your face.

You hesitate for a second. Should you really dump your insecurities and jealousy onto your boyfriend? Of course being a famous volleyball player, he was bound to have a large fanbase and following.

“Um… Are you sure you’re happy with me?” You asked him in a small voice.

His grips tightens on your fingers. He then leads you towards him to sit next to him.

You continue, “Like, look at me… I’m an average human being. And then look at you! You’re beautiful Omi. You have a perfect body and could be dating a model or something…”

how you touch my soul from the outside permeate my ego and pride

He then brings you close to his chest. He can start to hear you sniffle.

“What brought this on?” He questions you.

With a watery voice you say, “I just… I saw a fan photo of you and her. And she was just really pretty. And you didn’t look as annoyed as usual… And I’m not blaming you I swear! I, I can’t help but feel jealous because…”

i wanna love me the way that you love me

“Y/N. Look at me.” He pulls your face towards his.

“I love you. I love you because you show kindness regardless. I love you because when I see you smile, I want you continue to be happy. I love you because you tell me that I’m your twin flame.”

Your eyes start to tear up.

ooh, for all of my pretty and all of my ugly too i’d love to see me from your point of view

“I love you when I wake up in the morning and you’re in my arms. I even love you when you ugly cry when we’re watching a sappy movie.”

You giggle a bit at that statement.

i wanna trust me the way that you trust me

“I love you because you’re always able to see the brighter things in life. I love you because I would blindly follow you anywhere. I love you because I trust you.”

Sakusa wipes away the tears from your face. He kisses your eyes, nose, and lips.

“You okay now?” He asks you.

Your face is buried in his chest, arms around his torso. You nod in response. The two of you cuddle in silence for a bit.

“Hey Omi,” You tell him, voice slightly muffled from still being tucked in his chest.

“Hmm?” He hums.

“I love you. Like a lot. Actually more than a lot.” You tell him without lifting your head.

He kisses your forehead.

You finally lift your head and look at him. You ask him with a cheeky smile, “So you finally admit that you’re my twin flame?”

He rolls his eyes and flicks your forehead in response.

You gasp and rub the spot he hit.

“Omi! That hurt!” You tell him.

He rolls his eyes again and tells you, “I love you.”

You smile brightly at him and hug him tighter.

ooh, ‘cause nobody ever loved me like you do i’d love to see me from your point of view

[stardew-imagines-me]

Hello!! ○.○ may i request a rivalry between,, shane, elliott and harvey for the farmer's affection?

You had always thought if there was one thing you'd be in Pelican town when you moved down to revive your grandfather's farm, it was being lonely. Now, that wasn't to say you hadn't expected anything from the townsfolk themselves, that would've just been rude, but you didn't actually expect much.

It took a few days to find your way up around your new home; horrified at how overgrown your plot of land looked and debating on if it was too late to run back to Zuzu city. In the end, you hadn't and decided that it was best to buckle down on at least making a path to your cabin door without getting wild spurs caught on your pants.

Eventually, as you became accustomed to your new life, you had settled into a comfortable routine of getting up, watering the crops, walking into town to greet your new friends and finding yourself faced with three different men direly seeking your attention.

It's actually kinda funny on how you landed yourself into this situation, an odd but not unappealing love square with the town drunk, the local doctor, and the mysterious poet. Honestly, you really were at a loss when it came to romance. When you lived in the city, there wasn't exactly time for such thing when you juggled all different kinds of dead-end jobs, crazy neighbors, and outrageous bills for an education you never completed. What a life, right?

So when you found yourself cornered by Shane, the same man who had cursed you out the first day you arrived just for simply looking at him, you were confused... but intrigued. He had apologized through clenched teeth, shoulders stiff and hands clenched at his sides as he refused to look at you. His posture was terrible, his eyes were blood shot like he didn't know what the word sleep was, and his hair was a wild mess of tangles.

He looked like shit, to put simply.

Attractive shit.

"I, uh.... I just wanted to say sorry. I don't actually like people, and new people at that." If that was his best apology, your grandmother would've slapped him upside the head if she were still alive, but you nodded, offering your best comforting smile. "Don't worry, I understand completely."

His expression twitched, softening as he looked over to the side. He frowned, but the dusted blush across his cheeks spoke volumes as to what he was really feeling inside. You knew he wanted to say more, but when he suddenly walked away, hands shoved into pockets and speed increasing by the second, you couldn't help but crack a lovestruck smile as he bolted down the street and stumbled around the corner towards Marnie's barn.

The second man who had found his way inside your heart was the lovely, kind hearted doctor.

Normally, when you bump into someone and they fall over, you help them up and apologize - not stare at them for a minute straight until they reach by your feet to grab the parsnip seeds they had purchased only minutes ago. Harvey may be a doctor, but he is definitely not slick.

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry! Are you okay?" The poor man says and falls to the ground to help gather the seeds for you, stuttering 3 different apologizes out as he shakes. Dear lord, you should be the one asking that, not him.

"Uhm, yeah." You mutter, carefully stacking your items up in your arm and waiting for Harvey to place the remaining seeds on top of the pile. Truth be told, you had been surprised when Harvey looked you over. It would've been more flattering if he didn't look as if he was about to collapse at any second. Do people sleep in this town??

"Uh... my parsnips, Harvey.." You motion with your head at his hands, knocking him out of his trance once again. He quickly hands them over with a small bow and an apologetic smile, nervously jittering. "I'm sorry if I make you uncomfortable," you blurt, mentally slapping yourself for even letting that pass through your lips. As if you couldn't have made this situation more awkward.

He looks shocked, shaking his head as he speaks, "Of course you don't, I've been meaning to talk to you but... not exactly like this." You feel sympathetic when he rubs the back of his neck, ears a bright red. You wanted to assure him that what just happened wasn't his fault, but Maru had called him over, interrupting the awkward yet charming exchange.

For the first time, you had noticed how cute Harvey was, especially when he was flustered and caught off guard. You'd have trouble not laughing at how big his eyes got when you called his name as you planted those same parsnips hours later.

The last man you'd soon become smitten with was the beach beauty poet who loomed around town, looking for creative inspiration through blooming flowers and rushing lakes. You were lucky if you caught a glimpse of him during the day, often finding yourself too busy to talk with him or too far from where he usually walked his paths. Whenever you think about how you finally did talk, you can't help but cringe at the painful memory.

It was a hot summer afternoon, sweat dripping off your skin and drenching your clothes as you desperately wrangled a fish from your hook, trying not to curse as the damn thing wiggled and fought to escape from your grasp. Through your frustration and incoherent mumbling, you hadn't noticed a tall, sun kissed freckled man wonder into the clearing of the pond, admiring your figure.

"You're beautiful," He thought aloud, laughing as you comically stiffened, fish hopping out of your hand and splashing back into said pond, swimming away. "Wha-" you began, whipping around fast and clumsily to see who had interrupted your passionate dance with your mortal enemy.

"You're breathtaking," Elliott gasped lightly, eyes sparkling with curiosity as he takes a step towards you.

You're stuck between wanting to laugh at what he had said or cry because the most ethereal man you had ever seen to caught you wrestling with a fish, sweaty and breathing way too hard to deem as healthy. "You're kidding, right?"

Elliott shook his head, beaming as he brought a hand up to your chin. "I would never joke about someone as beautiful as you, my dear." This all was overwhelming, and whether it was the incoming delirium of the heatstroke you most certainly got or the way your heart thumped against your chest as his hand cupped your face, you clutched your fishing pole and ran as fast as your legs could take you.

If those lovely interactions weren't enough to catch you off guard and throw you into some stereotypical romcom, then the fact that over the next few months after these events took place, each man had made it his goal to confess their love in the most unique ways possible; if it weren't a bag full of vitamin medication to keep you healthy, or recipes cautiously torn out of whole cooking books to make you swoon, then it was cheesy poems about unrivaled beauty of a certain farmer who took great care in catching fish.

It wasn't as if they didn't know about each other either. Shane would often make a point in being the first to greet you when you walked into town square, carrying himself taller as he saw Harvey's bemused expression, or Harvey waltzing into a conversation about you had been having with Elliott, watching the latter's demeanor sour slightly, forcing himself to politely engage in the doctors witty quips that always had you doubled over in laughter.

If it bothered you, you never showed it, and truthfully, it never did. Admitting that you had feelings for all three of them was hard, especially when you got angry at yourself for even believing you were really wanted by them, but after a long time of contemplating, arguing, and stressing about the situation by yourself, you had your verdict.

Nature would take it's course. You had ended up in a completely bizarre situation without doing anything to start it, and even though these men would dance around each other with the same intention, they never really angered each other. Everything right now was...  Perfect actually. Time will only make way for the future when it came, but right now as you made your way to Elliott's beach shed with an elegantly written poem about red locks and starfish, it didn't matter. Nor did it when you walked to Marnie's to give Shane a homemade made by following one of the recent recipes he sent you or when you walked to Harvey's with a basket of fresh fruits you had grown yourself since you knew he never made enough time for him to eat.

You would accept change when it came, but for now, it was okay to live in the moment.

[bittywitches]

Change Your Ticket (Grayson Dolan Fanfic)

A/N: kinda embarassed to say that this is inspired by the 1d song 😬 but hey when you get inspo you just gotta write even if it’s not great lmao

basically Grayson and Y/N meet up every once and a while at conventions and sneak away to a hotel to get nasty (can I be more cringey) but Grayson’s starting to want something more~

Anyways thanks for reading ly <3

Grayson’s bed head spread messily across his pillow, one of his arms buried comfortably under it. It wasn’t the rustling of the bed that woke him up, or the slight opening of the curtains causing the light to dance across his forehead, but the sound of footsteps tiptoeing across the floor, then the thump of a cell phone dropping onto the floor. Suddenly he felt like there was an empty void right next to him.

Grayson groaned. He stretched his arm out, groping for the warmth of an arm, a waist, a face, and finally opened his eyes when he was met with the cold comforter.

“Y/N?” He said groggily, turning around under the covers, then bringing his hands up to rub the sleep out of his eyes.

“Shit.” She said quietly under her breath, bending down to pick up her phone and place it on the night table. 

“Come back to bed...” he said.

There was no response. Grayson finally sat up, him resting his back against the headboard and stretching his arms. He finally took a look at her, noticing that she was in just a t-shirt and her underwear, holding a pair of jeans in her arms. 

He blinked. “What... are you doing?”

She sighed, stepping into the jeans and pulling them up her legs. “I was trying to leave before you woke up.” She buttoned the clasp.

Grayson ran a hand through his tangled hair. “..oh?” He tilted his head at her, watching her run her fingers through her hair, trying to get the knots out best she could without having a brush on her. “Why’s that?”

She turned around, sighing as she did. “You know why.” She placed a few bobby pins between her teeth, then began pulling her strands of hair back up into a ponytail.

“That doesn’t mean I like it.” He threw the covers off of him, planting his bare feet on the cold hardwood floor. He was wearing nothing but a pair of boxers, and he could tell by the way that Y/N awkwardly avoided looking at him that he should feel self-conscious about that. But he didn’t, because it was her.

“That’s not my fault, Grayson.” She scanned the tables of the hotel room, then went to look at Grayson but froze, embarrassed.

“Is my hair tie on the bed?” She asked, not looking at him. 

He hated that her eyes wouldn’t find him. He flipped the covers and pillows over and found the simple black elastic on the mattress. He thought about how she confidently slipped it off last night, throwing it away carelessly in the heat of the moment.

He handed it to her now, and she reached for it while keeping her eyes trained at the floor. She turned away from him, facing the mirror now, pulling the elastic over her hair and tying it up. She stood there, looking at herself in the mirror for a moment, but really looking at Grayson sitting on the bed behind her through the reflection. He stared at her back, her day-old t-shirt and bare feet, only reminding him more of what he couldn’t have.

“Do you have to go?”

He watched her shoulders tense up, her fingers scrunching up into balls at his question. She took a deep breath, relaxing. She went to search the floor, grabbing her socks as well as Grayson’s t-shirt. 

“You know I have to.”

She threw the shirt at him, it landing against his chest and fell safely into his lap. He didn’t touch it, not wanting to admit that she really had to go. She walked over to the edge of the bed, the farthest she could sit away from him, and pulled on her socks.

“Y/N...”

“Grayson, you should know how this works by now.” She huffed, finally looking at him. “We get one night. It’s suspicious enough that we did it the last day.”

“But why?” He shifted over on the bed, sitting closer to her. “Why only one night?”

“Grayson...”

“Come on,” he placed a tentative hand on her thigh. “Give me one good reason.”

“We can’t afford any more than that.”

“Why? Because you work with another YouTuber?” 

“Grayson, don’t be dumbass.”

“Then why? Do you not like me?” He implored.

She laughed. “What’s that supposed to mean? We just spent the night together.”

“Not like that. Like...” he looked at her, the question burning through her. She really looked at him, his beautiful face waiting for an answer, his toned body rigid.

She sighed, then stood up. “I’ll see you later. Gray.”

He grabbed her wrist. “Don’t go.”

She turned around, exasperated. “Grayson, seriously.”

“Please, Y/N I can’t do this anymore.” He pleaded. “All this sneaking around, meeting up at conventions, leaving parties early, finding the nearest hotel— it’s not enough. I want more time with you.“

She stood silent, contemplating. What could she do? There was something about him that set her heart on fire, that sparked this dangerous need and want that couldn’t be extinguished by anybody else. But it was so risky. This was already bad enough-

“Grayson, I can’t-“

“Don’t leave me alone again, Y/N.” He was standing now, holding both of her hands in his. “It gets worse every time. I keep thinking, it’ll get better. Any time with you is good, right? But I can’t.” His hands traveled up her arms to cup her face. “I can’t handle watching you walk out that door every. Single. Time. It breaks me. So please...” he lowered his face down, his nose touching hers. “Don’t go.”

She breathed against his lips, her eyes searching his for what he wanted, what he needed. And she could see what they were saying:

I need you.

She leaned in, kissing his soft lips with a hunger she didn’t even realize she had. Grayson let out an unexpected moan, and that set her loose. She threw caution to the wind, letting her arms travel his bare chest and his broad back, tugging at the roots of his hair. 

They finally pulled away, breathless.

“Stay with me for the weekend.” Grayson whispered against her lips. 

Her eyes widened, and she almost laughed. “Are you serious?”

“More than I’ve ever been.” He held his arms strongly around her waist and lower back.

She then let that laugh escape. “And what am I supposed to tell the guys when I don’t show up for two days?”

“You tell them you were busy, doing something much more important.” He kissed her lips again, twice, three times until the smile on her face wouldn’t let him anymore. 

“Shut the fuck up. Don’t be an idiot.” She leaned away from him, letting herself take his face in. “You have to go home too.”

“I found something more important to do.”

“Oh my god, Grayson.” She released herself from his grasp. The fact that he was wearing almost nothing wasn’t helping. “Look, even if I would agree to this, I’m going back home tomorrow morning. I have a flight to get on.”

“Then you delay your flight.” He said, crossing his broad arms.

“Do you think I’m made of money?” She laughed.

“I’ll do it for you.”  He placed his right arm on her waist and his left on her cheek, tilting her head so he could peck her lips again. 

She smiled. “Well now, you're just showing off.”

He rolled his eyes at her “I’m being serious. Stay here with me.” He peppered her cheek and jaw lines with kisses.

She moaned a little, letting her hands rest gently on his chest. “Grayson, we can’t.”

“If it’s the hotel you’re worried about, I don’t think they’ll mind. I plan on tipping very generously.”

She laughed.

“Stop thinking about what happens next.” He kissed her neck. “Just two days. You and me.” He straightened up to look at her. “Who knows when I’ll get to see you again?”

She didn’t respond, she couldn’t respond. Even if she really did want to stay, which she would never admit, she couldn’t, right? All she could do was look down at her tense arms against his chest, unable to meet his eyes.

His eyes fell and his shoulders slumped all at once. He released her, stepping back to run two hands through his hair.

“God, why do you have to do this to me?” He held his face in his hands for a moment, rubbing his eyes. “I can’t keep doing this Y/N, it’s just too hard. You can’t keep leaving me like this.”

She rubbed her arm. “I don’t...”

It’s not even like it’s me, yknow?” He turned to her. “You’re always the one who comes and finds me. I thought that would mean something. That you might want more.” He sank back into the mattress cushion. “But I guess that’s my fault for over analyzing, right?”

She coughed. “I don’t know what you want me to say.”

“But you do, Y/N.” he pleaded.

She had nothing to say.

He groaned. “Is this all its every going to be? Our relationship? You find me every three months or so, we have sex, and then you’re gone? That’s it?”

Now she was getting pissed. He was painting her to be the bad guy. “I didn’t realize this was bothering you so much.”

He laughed, but there was no smile in his eyes. “Are you for real? You’ve always thought I was cool with this?”

“Well, you’ve never mentioned otherwise!” She threw her arms in the air. “I thought you were into it. We’re passionate and intimate and the longing makes it worth it, doesn’t it?”

“You know that’s bullshit.” 

She gaped at him. “So you’re saying you haven’t enjoyed yourself at all? This was just some sort of chore for you all this time?”

“No, of course not. Jesus, no.” He got up and walked over to her, holding her elbows. “I love seeing you. You’re amazing. This is always the best part of any trip, and it’s not even part of the conventions!” He was finally able to get a laugh out of her, easing the conversation once more.

“But you have to have known all this time, right?” He searched her eyes for an answer. “We go out to fancy diners, we get breakfast, I take you to movies and carnivals and- you think I’m gonna do all of that for a sex buddy?”

She tensed at those words. Is that what I think?  “I don’t know...”

His arms fell to his side, but her hands lingered a little bit before leaving his chest. She crossed her arms, looking at the cold floor between her feet. “I’m sorry, Gray.”

He exhaled. “Damn it, Y/N.” he left her side, walking back over to the bed and picking up his shirt. He turned it inside out then pulled it on, facing away from her. 

Her heart fell in her chest. “Grayson, please...”

“Please what?” He didn’t turn to her, just picked up his jeans off the floor and pulled them on. 

Look at me, She thought. just look at me. I don’t know how to say I’m sorry. “Please don’t be angry with me.”

He turned around rapidly “I’m not-“ he said with a sharp tone, but then breathed out in frustration. “I’m not angry.” He buttoned up his jeans. “I could never be angry with you.”

“No, don’t say that.” She walked up to him, gently shoving his chest. “You’re not allowed to say that. that’s not fair.”

“What?”

“Be angry with me. I don’t want it to be weird the next time.”

Grayson sighed and scratched the back of his neck. “I don’t think there’s gonna be a next time.”

Her heart fell to the pit of her stomach. “What?”

“...I don’t think we should see each other anymore.”

She stood there motionless, her heart now shattered, the pieces poking into her stomach. It hurt. “What is that supposed to mean?”

He tilted his head at her, watching, but not responding.

“What the fuck, Grayson?” She shoved his chest again, but this time with more force. “You can’t just do that!”

“What? I can’t make sure that I don’t get myself hurt again?” He stumbled back, a bit stunned by her response. 

“Gray...” her voice cracked ever so slightly.

“How many times do I have to say it, Y/N? I can’t do this. I can’t do this anymore.”

“You can’t do that to me, Gray.”

“Then why do you keep doing it to me?” He shouted. Y/N flinched. Tears began to trickle through her eyes. He had scared her.

His eyes widened. “Oh god, no...” he stepped towards her, enveloping her in his arms. “Y/N, please...”

They stood there like that for a while. In silence. Y/N, staring at the wall over Grayson’s shoulder, trying not to let that tear fall. Because if it did, that meant this was real, and she had accepted it. 

Grayson’s arms were firmly wrapped around her back. He knew it probably wasn’t a good idea, but what could he do? This was Y/N.

Her dormant arms finally made their way to his chest, clutching the thin fabric of his T-shirt in her fists. She needed to hold him somewhere, and it was the most she could muster.

But then he started rubbing her back gently, and she broke down. She buried her face into his shoulder, letting a sob escape her throat. 

Grayson’s heart climbed up into his throat. “Oh, angel...” he stroked the hairs on the back of her head, trying to soothe her.

He sighed. “I didn’t mean it.” He kissed the top of her head. “I don’t think I could ever leave you if I tried.” He laughed dryly.

She breathed in sharply. “You’re such an asshole.”

She obviously didn’t mean that, but she was embarrassed. This was never something important enough to cry about. She made sure of it, always keeping Grayson as arms length. But what did she know? She was young, and stupid, and thought she was doing right by him, not getting too involved. With their work and what they do, it couldn’t work.

But it’s not like she could help herself. Every time her team went to any sort of event or social gathering, she found herself always searching, waiting for him. She’d fooled herself into thinking she didn’t need it to be anymore. But she couldn’t keep lying to herself.

She groaned. “I’m sorry.”

“No, Y/N.” Grayson buried his nose in her hair. “I’m sorry.”

How did she not realize it sooner?

“God, I’m so stupid.” She let go of his shirt to wipe the tears from her eyes.

“No, you’re not.” He leaned back so he could look at her face. He brought a hand up to wipe a tear off of her cheek. 

Y/N looked at his eyes, really looked, for what seemed like the first time. She could see all the anger and disappointment was gone; they were soft. They were the colour of the sky. And they cared, so much.

“God, I’m so sorry.” She wrapped her arms around his neck, closing her eyes tightly.

Grayson was, to put it lightly, speechless. He didn’t know what to do. He’d never seen Y/N like this before. All he knew was that he wanted her to feel better, because seeing her like this hurt. He tightened his arms around her back and buried his nose into her shoulder, inhaling her scent. 

“I can’t lose you, Gray.” She pulled away from him finally, looking at him directly in the eyes. His eyes widened at those words. “I just never realized how badly I can’t. I’ve always felt like you’d be here. I need you to be here.”

He was about to respond but was cut off when Y/N kissed his lips, letting herself melt into it. She scrunched her eyes closed, but finally relaxed when she felt him kiss her back just as strongly.

She pulled away, more exhilarated than ever. “I want to stay with you. For the weekend.”

Grayson’s mouth fell open. “I.. really?” 

She smiled. “Yes.”

”you’re sure.”

“Yes!” She laughed.

He grinned, picking her up from her waist and spinning her around, laughing in return.

He set her down and kissed her again, flushed with relief and just an overwhelming feeling of love for this girl. “What are you going to tell the others?” He asked finally after pulling away from her.

She smiled. “That I have something more important to do.”

[riftimagines]

Spirit Blossom!Thresh x Shadow Assassin!Kayn

This is literally just smut with a hint of plot. I’m not the best at writing smut but I was inspired to write this after someone, you know who you are :3, introduced me to this ship and we shared a lot of headcanons with them in different AUs but this is the one that came out. LOL. Also I recently made a A03 acc. called RiftWrites where I’m probably going to post my one shots there because Tumblr is kinda annoying with posting long stories RIP.

Warnings: Smut, Blood mentions, This has Thresh ffs XD

The smell of blood and death thickly floated in the air. The invading Noxians stood no chance against the blurry shadow that swept through the field and cleaved through them like animals for slaughter. It was like a creature from their worst nightmares but this creature was no creature but in fact, a man. The sheer speed and fluidity of his moments made him look like a living shadow, something that was created by magic and in a way was. The gifted shadow magic Sheida Kayn possessed was only enhanced further by the defeat of the Darkin scythe, Rhaast. Its defeat gave him unholy amounts of power and transformed the young man into a terrifying shadow assassin. His power showed on this day as there was more blood then grass on this once pristine grassland. Bodies lay askew where flowers once bloomed and from the corpses rose a particular bloom. A Spirit Blossom. This year was the year they had returned after thirteen years and now sadly they would leave again and with them the souls of the dead of this land both Ionian and Noxian. The sky began to fill with the blossoms of the dead Noxians and began to float away, good riddance. Now to get rid of what little was left.

In the not so far off distance a force was awakened. The sounds of lost spirits called out and from the realm of the dead came a seeker of said souls, a demon that sought to collect all the spirits and show them their true potential. Its unnatural purple skin and white hair contrasted against the natural hues of the forest. It seemed not to care as it stood out for anyone to see its vision became set as the brilliant flowers in the sky sang to collect them.

“No worries little spirits, your safe with me now.” Its reverberated voice rang out. From its left side it brought forth a lantern in the shape of a demons face almost similar to his own. A smile curled upon its lips from beneath its golden jaw plating as the Spirit Blossoms came down and closer to him. The spirits are completely unaware of what was happening when the lanterns mouth suddenly opened and began to pull all the souls into it. So many spirits to gather today, like harvesting wheat freshly cut in fact they seemed like they were. The Spirit Blossoms were fresh, very fresh, and seemed to becoming from a certain direction, interesting. Curious as to where they were coming from the demon begins to walk towards the origin of all these blossoms while gathering them a long the way. It did not take long for the purple hued evil to find the source. A battlefield, how quaint. There had been much delectable suffering and pain. Ah, if only he had heard the screams, the sweet tones of misery. As if on command of thought, the sounds of screaming and wailing called, now that was a lovely sound he could not resist. The siren sounds cried out like the most beautiful chorus and soon lead to its singers.

The bodies fell left and right as a blur of blue and darkness swooped through the poor mortals and razed them. There was no mercy, only pain just like the demon liked it. Its bright lavender eyes became transfixed at the lithe form doing a dance of death leaving blood and agony in its wake. Who was that glorious creature? It did not seem to notice the demon at the edge of the battle watching every deadly moment in awe. The dance continued for a few moments longer before the final howls of despair fluttered into nothingness. The shadow finally stops and reveals to the demon a divine looking man. He had never seen a human look so, alluring. His pale skin tattooed with dark lines that traveled from his eyes across his face, down his chest and completely engulfed his forearms. Such a lovely being, he must know more about this beauteous agent of death, no time like the present to make a blunt entrance. With a couple spins of its sickle it launches it at high speeds to the target and it snags its very soul.

Kayn is completely confused as a small scythe attached to a thick cord wraps around him. It should have been easy to cut but the cords were seemingly harder then steel and did not break, instead they pulled harder as the strangest looking fiend he’d ever seen comes flying at him. For a moment he feels panic as his powers don’t let him escape, the magic cord holds him still. No attack ever came though, just the sound of evil laughter fills his ears. He looks at the monster before him with wide eyes. What was this thing?

“How adorable, so confused and so scared. I won’t hurt you though little one. I am Thresh, collector of the Spirit Blossoms. Do not let my frightening visage fool you, I am but a humble guide to these poor spirits and bring them up to their full potential. It seems though you have found your full potential early, so tell me what are you my dear?” He coos softly. Kayn was having none of that though.

“I am Sheida Kayn, and I care not what you are monster I will not obey you!” Kayn’s scythe came barreling towards Thresh’s neck and had he been anyone else he would have been dead. The demon sighed then pulled hard on the chains sending Kayn into a tree and his scythe out of his hands.

“A feisty one aren’t you? I’m not surprised but make no mistake, I do know how to put wild spirits back in their place.” He says as he picks up the shadow assassin by the throat, pushes him against the tree and squeezes slightly. A sudden moan that catches both Kayn and Thresh off guard. A wicked grin spreads upon the demons face and Kayn seizes up. He squeezes again experimentally and again the soft moan flutters into his ears. Oh now that is a nice sound. Kayn suddenly feels fear, a feeling he had not felt in a long while, and tries to phase though the tree only to be stopped by the white cord wrapped around his waist keeping him from escaping.

“ Now, now, little pet, don’t leave so soon, we just discovered something new! Here lets make this more interesting shall we? I believe the blossoms from this field should be enough.” Suddenly the demonic lantern opens up again and the Spirit Blossoms make their way inside. It’s eyes begin to blaze and the demon removes its hand from Kayn’s throat to call upon its power. A pulse of energy burst forth from Thresh and five ghostly purple walls seemingly arise from nowhere. The more startling part wasn’t the box that surrounded them now but the fact that the demon was changing. Its dark purple skin became a light alabaster, hair a dark black with purple hues, and its horrifying mask was now replaced with a gorgeous man. It was so jarring to see something so terrifying turn into something so beautiful. Thresh smiled smugly at Kayn, no one could resist this form, perhaps now he’d get more of those lovely sounds.

“Ah, how is this? Not to bad if I do say so my self. Now where were we?” His hand returns to grasp at his neck this time though his other hand begins to graze his sharp claws down his chest. A nail catches his skin and leaves a little scratch it its wake making Kayn hiss. Thresh’s eyes glaze slightly at the sound of pain, so heavenly, he needs more. Dark purple nails trace all over Kayn’s torso leaving more cuts and scratches all over but none enough to be agonizing or lethal, Thresh is having too much fun with this one for him to die yet. Through the rough ministrations on his body Kayn’s breath had hitched and his nerves turned on to high. Every touch was doing something to him that wasn’t really pain. A tight, warm feeling starts to form in his lower abdomen. Thresh can see a redness spreading upon Kayn’s face.

“Enjoying your self? It’s rude to keep all that pleasure to yourself you know?” With unseen swiftness the small gap between them is closed and their lips are intertwined. It’s a rough and hungry kiss almost like he couldn’t get enough. Kayn had not experienced much physical affection but this was something greater then those little kisses he’d seen couples share. They are both bare chest to bare chest breathing hard into each other until Kayn could not breath. They break panting hard and Thresh’s eyes are fully glazed over and glowing deviously. In a split second his mouth is on Kayn’s exposed neck and is biting down hard. Kayn yelps loudly then goes into a deep moan as Thresh works the bite into what will be a deep dark bruise. The tight feeling rushes downward to his groin and an involuntary buck of his hips follows. The demon stops biting his neck and moves up to nip at the shell of his ear before whispering low and deep.

“Such an eager little spirit. You want me to claim you don’t you? Want me to collect your body and soul?” Kayn can’t speak the sheer amount of arousal is drowning his mind but he can feel himself nod and his hands try to pull Thresh closer. The cord unfurls its self from his waist and find new residence binding his hands instead now. Thresh raises his hands and the cord upwards to a branch to keep Kayn’s hands up.

“Yes, I know you want me but you’ll get me as I give myself to you. No sooner, no later.” He purrs lowly. With hands now bound and pinned above his head it gave the devious soul collector free reign of Kayn’s body. His talons raked across his body and mouth working anywhere that looked like a tender spot. Scratches and bruises start to decorate pale skin and leave their new owner writhing in pleasure. The firmness in his pants was agonizing, far more so then the slightly bloody cuts. Thresh was in a no better state. His normally composed visage was flustered across his face all the way to the tips of his pointed ears. His own member throbbing for attention.

Not wasting anymore time those claws were put to the test as they tore through the thick cords that held up Kayn’s pants effectively loosening and dropping them. Kayn gasps as his warm, hardened nether regions are exposed to the elements, clear fluid already seeping from the end. The demon growls deeply at the sight and is quick to rid himself of his binding clothing. Tossing them aside he strokes his manhood gently, electing a rumbling purr from his chest. Kayn can see through half lidded eyes the demons length and a shiver runs down his spine. He isn’t familiar with others genitals but he is bigger then himself by a bit and quite thick. Thresh moves in again and lifts Kayn’s hips up to line up before pushing in. Kayn’s eyes go wide at the foreign felling of being filled. He’s moaning, writhing and trying desperately to get accustomed to this new sensation. Tears start to pool and fall down his face which are then licked up by the eager demon.

“Easy now my pet, just relax. Let me handle everything.” He coos into his ear and leaves a kiss where a stray tear is falling. The pleasantries are gone in moments though as Thresh begins to move. The pace starts slow but then begins to build and soon its a quick relentless pace that leaves Kayn completely breathless. His whole body feels limp as if all his strength has left him, the strength of the demon alone is the only thing keeping him up. Every harsh thrust seems to hit a spot that has his eyes rolling back and him moaning and gasping loudly. The sounds and the sensation of Kayn tightening around him sends Thresh on a marking spree, covering as much skin as he can into deep colors. It’s all so much for Kayn and in a moment of bliss his sight blurs and he can finally feel himself release. He can hear a deep animalistic growl and for a few seconds his hips are grabbed so hard he swore the bone would bruise as Thresh rams into him sending Kayn’s blurred vision into pure white and his hearing completely gone. The whole world fades for who knows how long before his vision is restored and the demon is slowly pulling out of him. He now hangs there on the tree limply, unable to will his now exhausted muscles to move even an inch. A whine escapes him as Thresh fixes himself up.

“Now, now, I know you miss me. I’ll get to you in a moment.” He places his clothing back into place and almost seems like nothing happened to him at all. He goes to the side of the tree and binds the forgotten scythe to his back before coming around and pulling Kayn’s pants back up. As soon as the cord to the sickle is removed Kayn drops like a rock right into Thresh’s arms. His body is too weak to fight him off and lets his head lull onto the demons shoulder. He smiles down at the tired human in his arms and places a small kiss upon his crown.

“You may rest now dear. I won’t let anything happen to you. Your mine now you know, nothing will take you from me and you certainly won’t get away from me from now on. So get used to being where you are for your going to be there for the rest of eternity.” He says all too gleefully while holding him tightly. Kayn thinks for a moment of what he’s done. He’s now bound to a soul taking demon, but a soul taking demon that has given him more attention in about an hour then he’s received in his entire life. Thats not entirely to bad he thinks. He looks up at the handsome face that looks down at him with a smirk and dips down to place another kiss, this time to his lips, that’s most certainly something he could get used to.

[bitchloveskcbaseball]

Show a Leg

Pairing: Edward Mortemer x Peyton Bellamy

Disclaimer: Characters belong to Pixelberry

Warnings: It’s a bit suggestive but nothing too explicit and I think only one curse word (color me surprised lol). Honestly this is mostly fluff.

Word Count: 1064 (I was so close lol)

A/N #1: I am participating in this week’s @wackydrabbles prompt: I didn’t think you remembered.

A/N #2: This is a little one shot that is loosely tied into my Tides of Fate series (think of it as a potential future scenario for them - since I don’t exactly know where that series is going to end up just yet lol). That being said, it can 100% be read as a stand-alone.

A/N #3: (Last one I promise lol) I was really struggling for a title for this one, so I was looking through some lists of pirate terminology and came across “Show a leg.” According to pirateglossary.com, it means to wake a sleeping pirate, which seemed appropriate for this fic lol

I also want to give a HUGE HUGE HUGE thank you to @burnsoslow for giving me the suggestion that inspired this and also for reading over it to calm my nerves!! You are the absolute best!! Thank you for putting up with my non-sense! 💜💜💜💜💜💜💜

“Where are you taking me?”

Edward’s warm breath tickled her ear as he leaned in closer to whisper, “You’ll find out soon enough.”

Peyton huffed, “We’re on a ship in the middle of the ocean. There’s a finite number of places we could be heading. I don’t understand why my eyes have to be covered.”

“Can I not want to surprise you?” When Peyton only grunted in response, Edward chuckled and drew them to a stop. Keeping one hand covering her eyes, he slid his other down around her waist to pull her tightly against his chest. His voice was little more than a growl as he added, “Then maybe tis just the fact that I’ll take any excuse to have you this close to me.”

Peyton’s head fell back onto his shoulder with a shuddering sigh. She’d known she was acting like a petulant child even though whatever Edward was up to was obviously all for her, but all she’d wanted on this one day they were to have all to themselves was to spend it curled up in their bed together. He’d had other plans, however, rousing her from her slumber before the sun had even begun to peek over the horizon and Peyton wanted nothing to do with any of it. But then he goes and pulls her into his arms so tightly and every protest she might have made slips away.

Giving into the burning desire coursing through her veins, Peyton ground her hips back against his, reveling in his jagged groan. Edward dropped his head to pull her earlobe between his teeth in response, eliciting a soft whimper from her as she wound her hand up to tangle her fingers in his hair. His tongue then traced a circle over the sensitive spot just behind her ear until she was writhing against him, before trailing a series of kisses down across her jaw. Mindless with a desperate need for him already, she turned her head and captured his lips with her own.

She was so distracted that she didn’t even realize he was no longer covering her eyes until she felt his hand cupping her breast. In the next moment, when he started to brush his thumb over her nipple through her blouse, her last, fleeting thought was that she couldn’t care less.

Longing to be face to face with Edward, she tried to twist around within his grasp, but his grip on her tightened, anchoring her in place. When she groaned in frustration, he broke their kiss to rest his head on her shoulder, his breathing quite ragged. Peyton felt the ghost of a smile cross his lips before he brushed a several soft kisses to her exposed skin that did nothing to ease the ache between her legs.

As if he was reading her mind, or maybe the tension in her body, he muttered, “I promise” – his hand trailed teasingly down across her stomach, stopping just before it reached where she wanted it most – “we shall finish this soon.”

Narrowing her eyes at him, she opened her mouth to complain but was cut off when Edward placed another, yet sweeter, kiss against her lips. Dazed by the drastic change in intensity, she didn’t protest when he gently turned her face away from him so he could cover her eyes. “I still have a surprise I wish to show you, my captain.”

Not quite ready to concede, Peyton pressed her ass against his hips again, whispering sultrily, “There’s only one surprise I really need right now.”

“I’ll not be distracted from my task, Miss Bellamy.” The strangled, breathlessness of his tone was telling her otherwise, but she also heard a hopeful determination that had her doing her best to behave as he resumed leading her towards their destination. Whatever it was that he wanted to show her was clearly very important to him and she didn’t want to ruin it.

When he brought them to a stop once again, Peyton noticed that the sound of the waves lapping against the hull of the ship was much louder than usual. Carefully shaping her expression into one of fear, she asked, “Are you preparing to throw me overboard?”

His entire body rumbled with his laughter as he turned her head so that she was facing him before dropping his hands from over her eyes, his right sliding down to grip her hip and his left folding tightly around hers. Laughing eyes belying the hard edge of his expression, he threatened, “If that was my goal, I’d not have bothered to wake you.”

Despite her best efforts, a huge smile broke out across Peyton’s face, just as it did every other time Edward played along with one of her sarcastic jokes. So many times before, guys had grumbled and bitched about her snarky sense of humor, some even going so far as to tell her that was the reason they were dumping her. But here was Edward, her brooding captain, not only tolerating it but actually giving it right back. It was just one of the many, little ways she could see how he had accepted her – all of her – into his life so completely and it melted her heart a little more each time.

Raising up on her toes to brush a kiss against his lips, Peyton questioned, “So where is this big surprise you have for me?”

“Turn around and see for yourself.”

Doing as she was told, a soft gasp escaped her lips as she saw the makeshift bed he had created for them at the bow of the ship. “I can’t believe you remembered!”

Wrapping his arms around her once again, this time purely out of love rather than desire, Edward simply replied, “I remember everything you tell me, Peyton. I could not forget if I tried.” She could hear the smirk in his voice as he added, “Even if I often do not understand what you are speaking of.”

“Which part didn’t you understand? The part where I want to make love to you under the stars? Or the part where I want to stand up on the railing afterward, arms up in the air, and yell into the abyss, ‘I’m king of the world!’?”

Arms tightening around her as he chuckled, Edward placed a quick kiss against her cheek before answering, “Definitely that last part.”

Annnddd...now here is me pouting because today is the last chapter of Distant Shores and I’m nowhere near ready for that... Luckily I finished this before I discovered that nugget otherwise I think this might have taken quite the angsty turn lol

Tag List: @burnsoslow @anotherbeingsworld @mvalentine @rebel-alpaca @crazynutella @princess-geek @edgiestwinter @choices-addict