#she'd remind him so much of al. so naturally

[kattythingz]

YJ x FMA Pt. 5

Aka the au where Ed absolutely must remind every child soldier hero he runs into that they are, in fact, still children. Without picking any favorites whatsoever, of course.

(Jk, it's obviously M'gann. Fight me.)

🧡 Pt. 1 💛 Pt. 2 🤍 Pt. 3 🩵 Pt. 4 💙

M’gann didn’t think she was fully awake when she opened her bedroom door the next morning to the smell of food.

She’d made a pretty good habit of getting up around nine every morning so she could surprise Conner with a breakfast. It was admittedly corny of her, and it didn’t always work out, but she made a regular effort nonetheless. If she couldn’t drag him into a breakfast, then she was always on time to make cookies instead. Last week, Conner had even been waiting for her, asking awkwardly if “she had cookies to make or something”. He hadn’t tried joining her outright in the kitchen yet or anything, but they were getting there! She just knew it.

But she digressed. All that was to say, she was a little surprised when she heard muttering from the kitchen.

She floated instead of walking to avoid startling the person if it was Conner, and she was almost sure it was him when she got near enough.

That cursing was pretty distinctive, though.

“Ed?” she called tentatively at the threshold, just in time to catch Ed jolting hard enough to slip his fingers on the pan handle and burn himself.

He recoiled instantly, dropping the pan with a loud clang. “FUCK!” 

“Oh my god!” M’gann yelped and rushed over. “I am so sorry, I should’ve made some noise first—are you alright?! Here, the sink is right over here if you—!”

She stopped when a smile, of all things, crossed Ed’s lips and he chuckled.

“I barely felt it, don’t worry,” he said, still laughing. “Don’t you dare apologize for something like that, that’s amazing. I didn’t even hear you.”

“That is another thing you will have to ‘get used to’, I’m afraid.”

It was M’gann’s turn to be startled at the amused voice behind her. She spun toward Kaldur sitting at the island, nursing what looked like a slightly burned omelet and a glass of orange juice. Which meant M’gann had definitely overslept, if he was already here at the cave and not his own place in Atlantis.

“Kaldur,” she stuttered, cheeks warm at the dual praise now. “That’s funny, I didn’t see you there either.”

“I have my own methods as well,” he said with a slight smirk.

“Tell me about it,” Ed said, pulling both their attention back to him. “You lot are gonna be the cause of my premature heart attack. Scaring the shit out of me one by one.”

He was already returning to his task of cracking eggs into a bowl, so M’gann asked Kaldur instead, “What did you do?”

“I only thought to help with preventing a mess,” Kaldur said, meaning—

“You literally made water float out of nowhere, you little shit!” Ed whirled around with a pointed spatula, and Kaldur’s smile held valiantly at the other end of it. “I thought I was going crazy. A little warning for that would’ve been nice, considering you’re supposed to be the polite one.”

“I believe I did warn you,” Kaldur hummed, “when I made my presence known first.”

“I changed my mind, don’t fucking talk back to me. You’ve been spending too much time with Ling.” Ed huffed, but he was obviously smiling when he turned back to the stove. “M’gann, have you eaten anything yet?”

It took her a second to realize Ed had used her Martian name. Probably because that was how he’d heard it from Ling, and Ling insisted on using her proper name—if she preferred it. M’gann didn’t mind being Megan to begin with, but she had to admit, it was nice hearing her name in its Martian pronunciation too. 

Though, she was surprised Ed had said it so easily. Her name wasn’t hard to pronounce, but it was “heavy” by Earth standards; when Robin and Wally had tried saying it, they’d needed to pause before connecting it in a sentence.

“M’gann?” Ed’s question pulled her out of her thoughts.

“Sorry.” She smacked her forehead and floated over to his side. She didn’t get it yet, but it was apparently considered rude on Earth to talk at someone from a distance. “You can use my Earth name, you know, if you want. M’gann and Megan mean the same thing to me.”

“At this point, I’ve heard the first one more thanks to Ling,” Ed said. “If you’d prefer it, though—”

“Oh, no! I was just saying. I don’t mind.” It made her really happy, actually.

“Good. I would’ve had to kick Ling’s ass too if you had a problem with it.” He shook his head, reaching for something beside the stovetop. He furrowed his brow when he only touched counter, opening his mouth to ask something—

M’gann, perhaps overeager, beat him to it.

“Here!”

Ed turned to accept the plate normally, a “thank you” spilling blindly from his lips, before his eyes widened at the plate being hovered at his eye-level. Catching the muscle memory too late, M’gann lowered it sheepishly to his height instead.

It was a long second before he accepted it.

“Thanks…” he repeated. “Let me guess, another thing I’ll have to get used to?”

M’gann giggled at the resignation in his tone. “Sorry about that.”

Ed finally smiled. He turned back to the pan, freeing the omelet from the surface and passing the plate easily to her.

She started at the offer, accepting without thinking, and he grinned.

“Don’t be,” he said. “That’s still amazing.”

She wasn’t used to hearing such direct praise from an adult—Ling said Ed was older than him, hadn’t he?—so she needed a second to remember to say over her skipping heartbeat, “Thank you. Like you said yesterday, though, that’s nothing special by my standards. Everyone on Mars can do it. We learn it as kids, even.”

“Really?”

Ed sounded genuinely interested, so she moved to the island with her plate and continued, “Oh, yeah. There’s a bunch of local games tailored to nurture exactly that skill. It’s as important as learning our first word—through telepathy, that is. We learn that too before out-loud speaking.” 

“We have a similar standard in Atlantis,” Kaldur said. He’d finished his food, and was leaning into the conversation with a noticeable spark in his eyes that M’gann was always happy to see; he was their friend before their leader, though he seemed to forget that often. “All Atlantean children like myself are trained in the ways of hydrokinesis since infancy. Speaking comes shortly after we have usually achieved our first trick.”

Ed’s infamous curiosity must’ve been sparked, because he put his back completely to the stove and leaned against it in favor of the conversation now. “That is so fucking cool, what the hell. But, wait, you said something about knowing ‘sorcery’ too—”

“Atlantean sorcery.” Kaldur nodded.

“Right. That. So, is that a different thing? Or can everyone do that too, and you just chose to get a mentor for it?”

“Actually—”

Kaldur paused suddenly, along with Ed and M’gann, at a distant noise from down the hall. It sounded like the slam of a mechanical door for a split second, accompanied furiously by a mad sprint, and—

“ED!”

M’gann jumped with Kaldur at the yell directly at the threshold, spinning together to blink at the source.

Ed deigned his attention to it much more slowly, and with a great roll of his eyes.

“A little louder, idiot prince. I don’t think Conner heard you yet.”

Ling’s eyes further widened where he stood panting, swallowing his breath for a palpable moment frozen on Ed. He’d obviously overslept and woken in a panic. His hair was wild and loose around his shoulders, his mouth agape—and he was completely shirtless.

M’gann’s face burned, and she turned away quickly. She didn’t need visuals to imagine the look on Ling’s face, anyway, when he breathed a second time, “Ed. You’re still here.”

Ed smiled in the corner of her vision, lifting off the counter. “Where else would I be, dumbass?”

“You… You weren’t there when I woke up. I thought—”

Ling’s already short breathing cut off at the same time Kaldur looked away with a polite grimace. M’gann could guess the cause of that interruption, then.

She counted one, two, three beats before Ed said, “You thought what?”

M’gann risked a peek at the couple now, and she couldn’t help her instinctive smile at the starry-eyed look on Ling’s face. It felt like, already, she’d seen more faces from Ling caused by Ed’s presence than his absence. And Ling had talked a lot about Ed before his undue arrival in their world. 

“I thought…” Ling sucked in a breath. “My hoodie was missing.”

“Is that what this is called?” Ed pulled back from Ling to observe the oversized sleeves of his red hoodie that did belong to Ling, now that M’gann noticed it. She’d known those pants looked familiar too; she helped Ling pick out those black short pants with the golden design up the legs herself, when they’d gone shopping for clothes for him.

Ling’s expression positively melted on Ed as he hummed a noncommittal answer.

“This doesn’t seem like your usual style,” Ed remarked with a questioning eyebrow at Ling. “Isn’t this a little sweltering for your sensitive skin? Not to mention the color. Although, it is an upgrade.”

He cracked a grin there at the end, and Ling chuckled.

“Well, I wasn’t entirely thinking of myself when I chose it,” he said warmly. “I’m glad to see my judgment hasn’t slipped, after all. Those really are your colors.”

Ed blushed bright and spontaneous. “A-Are you still half-asleep? What’s with the directness? And go put on a shirt already! What the hell are you doing running around this freezing place like that? Don’t tell me you’ve been prancing around like you did when you were sixteen—!”

Ed wasn’t the only one caught off-guard by Ling’s loud, bubbling laughter out of the blue. Kaldur’s eyebrows shot up at the rare sound triggered by practically nothing.

“I haven’t, I haven’t!” Ling said, beaming wider than the sun, and Ed’s face somehow colored redder.

“Y-Yeah, well, good! Now, seriously, go change.” Ed twisted out of Ling’s loose hold, grabbing two eggs from the carton as he passed it. “Or I’m eating your portion too!”

That made Ling yelp, and he actually stumbled. “Don’t even joke like that, Edward!”

“Good thing I’m not joking, then! One minute, Ling. One! Two—!”

Ling was gone down the hall in three. M’gann slapped a hand over her mouth to—badly—cover up a laugh, and Kaldur outright chuckled next to her.

Ed grinned by the stove too, and it felt like something in the cave had shifted.

[boopshoops]

ANOTHER ONE 💥 WAPOW

Jocia Gains

1. Just like Yuu- i got a whooole playlist for her. Just like all my other OCs! Though I am more set on one specific song that defines her best: Seashore

2. At RSA? Chenya! At NRC? Kalim Al Asim. Both of them make her laugh. Chenya more than Kalim, but Kalim's extroverted tendencies help her open up a bit more to pretty much everyone. It's hard to be badass when such a cinnamon roll is always around.

3. Riddle Rosehearts. Ahhh, the one who breaks rules for what they think is the greater good, and the rule enforcer. Plus, they both have an AWFUL temper. When they're not pissed off to hell and back or breaking rules, they can actually get along decently.

4. Bugs and spiders. Fuck them. Nope. Crushing them with a baseball bat ASAP. This fear practically runs in the family.

5. P.E. It's the only class in school she's ever enjoyed. Exercising helps her blow off steam and keep her temper in check.

6. Umm... is all of the above an option? Most of the time she just doesn't show up. If I had to say one that she'd be bad at if she actually tried, it'd be Alchemy. It's too close to cooking, and this woman would burn down a house trying to make mac n cheese.

7. Welp, she played baseball a TON back in high school. It's something her and her siblings always practiced together, so it reminds her of home. That's for RSA, though. If she had to join one at NRC, it'd be the Mountain Lovers club. Can't use magic for Spelldrive, so hiking is her next best bet. She doesn't know shit about nature though. Sorry Jade (I'm not sorry LMAO)

8. Floyd Leech. Similarly to him and Riddle, he knows how to get on her nerves. Except she isn't as adherent to the rules, meaning they have and will exchange a few punches.

9. Sam! She's immune to his capitalist tactics, but besides that they're pretty chill. Plus he isn't a teacher, which means he doesn't scold her for misbehaving. That's definitely a plus.

10. Savanaclaw. 100%.

11. It's a tie between Jack Howl and Deuce Spade... or maybe leaning more towards Jack given her delinquent tendencies. She wouldn't be a good influence for Deuce, and she knows that. Jack and her relate a lot to each other. Though she doesn't really care about growing stronger as much. She just enjoys exercising and a more athletic physique.

12. Harveston! She's never been sledding before, but she is biased towards winter sports. Trying it out would be fun.

13. Floyd. It could go either way, seeing as I can see them brawling more than once.

14. Bad. Very bad.

15. Unlike Yuu, Jocia doesn't keep many secrets from her peers. At least not on purpose. The fact that her sister is off being a piece of shit at her rival school, though...

16. Shameless TCOAV chapter five plug

17. They're funny. They aren't too successful at scaring her, so she honestly finds their failed attempts to be hilarious. She even gets back at them from time to time.

18. Being away from family. She has herself worried sick over her siblings health and wellbeing, to the point where it's all she can motivate herself to think about. Going home is her #1 priority.

19. NO.

20. Book 6! >:)

[xbellaxcarolinax]

Forging A Heart (Ivar the Boneless) 17- Goddess

Pairing: Ivar x Artemis (OFC)

Word Count: 5586

Warnings: Slight mature content, nothing major

AN: Ya’ll have no idea how much I love this GIF of Ivar. His eye roll is literally what I imagine him doing all the time.

16- Free

...

Breathe in.

Breathe out.

Steady your stance.

Pull the string.

Release the arrow.

It was a lot harder than Artemis anticipated.

She missed her target, a small, dark rabbit that fled the moment the arrow pierced into the damp earth beside it.

She sucks her teeth.

"Mm, that was better, but you still lack the patience." Ivar says to her with a chuckle. To him it was second nature, but watching Artemis with a bow was like watching a babe attempting to walk.

He sat as comfortably as he could on a chair brought by one of his many other thralls, and he watched as Artemis lowered her bow in defeat. It amused him to see her strive for perfection. It reminded him of himself when he was a child and still learning the ways of archery.

At his heels were his obedient elkhounds brought with him from Norway, eager to run wild and hunt even in the early summer heat. They were the same ones Ivar threatened her with, but that was neither here nor there.

He held one of them tightly in place with a leather strap, the other 3 pulling hard against a male thralls grip. They were beautiful things, large, with cream and black fur and large dark eyes. The hounds were adorable at first glance, but they were fierce, destroying anything in their path with ease if Ivar commanded them to.

Ivar snapped his fingers, and the wolf like dogs immediately ceased their whinning, staring up at their master with expecting eyes.

"Go." He commands, both he and the thrall letting go of the leather, the hounds instantly fled into the trees. All 4 returned with a dead rabbit in its mouth in a matter of minutes, surrounding their masters feet.

"Your hounds are show offs." Artemis pouts while Ivar grins, giving his beasts meat treats as the thrall collects the rabbits.

"Who else is to provide our dinner if you can't manage to shoot anything?" He says with a tired chuckle. His features betrayed him, revealing his discomfort from the usual pain that inflicted him daily, but it passed just as quickly as it came. He extended his arm out, palm open as an invitation for Artemis to hand over the bow.

Once securely in his hand, Ivar places his crutch to the side. He looks about slowly, listening to the sounds of the forest with his blue eyes closed and his lashes dusting over his cheekbones. Moments like these were the ones that Artemis admired the most, quickly scanning her eyes over him.

Ivar was no master of blades, but he was extremely skilled with a bow, and he almost never missed his target, Artemis had witnessed it many times when he use to train with his brothers.

Suddenly his piercing eyes fluttered open, and he silently motioned for Artemis to hand him an arrow from her quiver.

"Wha-"

"Shh."

He quickly reprimands her, putting a finger over his lips before placing the arrow in its place and stretching back the bow string as far as he could, aiming the sharp arrow towards the bright green tree tops. He stared up toward the skies for a moment in comfortable silence. Artemis would have spoken again if it weren't for the whizzing of the arrow soaring through the air at a raging velocity.

The tree tops shook a bit, and a squeal emitted from its depths before a dark shadow descended from above, falling at the foot of the large tree trunk. How Ivar had the ability to shoot down a squirrel from such a distance was beyond her, but most impressive nonetheless.

"Did you not mention your patron goddess was a huntress?" He asks with a smirk, and Artemis rolls her eyes with a snort.

"I am named after a goddess, but it does not mean I am one." Ivar shrugs, handing her back the bow.

"I like to think you are." He says, turning his blue gaze towards the familiar brown.

Artemis blinks, only able to conjure up a shy smile as she felt her cheeks burn. A strange feeling began to flutter in her lower abdomine. It was a strange feeling indeed, but she liked it, the fluttering intensifying when he bites his lips in apprehension.

"And what have you done to elicit such flattery from my brother?" Both too distracted with each other, they failed to noticed Hvitserk watching their scene, smirking at them in the way all the brother's

It was borderline infuriating.

"Shut up, Hvitserk." Ivar says with a growl, far less malicious than he wanted. He watches his hounds charge from sniffing at the green pastures to leaping towards his older brother in excitement.

"Forgive me for interrupting," Hvitserk laughs, trying to individually caress eat dog that pounced up his legs, "But the bishop has come to a decision. He wishes to speak with you."

Ivar hums nodding his head as he grabs his crutch, "Very well. Perhaps we shall gain a warrior on our side."

"Why do you wish for the bishop to fight for you?" Artemis asks quietly, cocking her head to the side in curiosity, "I thought you hated Christian's?"

"I thought so too." Hvitserk agrees, the smirk never leaving his lips.

"I suppose there are a few that aren't so bad." Ivar speaks just as quietly, his penetrating gaze lingering on her for another moment before motioning with his hands for the party to head back into the city.

...

The bishop, after being humiliated in the streets of York by the foreigners, proved himself, killing a taunting man before Ivar's very eyes and swearing allegiance to him. To sink a knife into another man's flesh and ending his life was enough to ignite Ivar, it could be seen in the way his eyes glowed.

Plans were set in motion once again, this time with King Harald Finehair, who had been a head strong ally with them thus far. The viking settlement in York would be overseen by one of Ivar's men now that the king of Northumbria was eliminated and the kingdom of Wessex weakend tremendously. Many who came with the Ragnarson's decided to stay in the Yorkish settlement, and that included Arvid and Alfhild. Artemis didn't know whether it was their decision or Ivar's, but she supposed it was for the best.

Alfhild was pregnant, perhaps a sign of their gods that their growing family should remain on English soil until their call back to Kattegat would come.

She was excited as any future mother would, rubbing her still flat belly in affection for her child to be. Arvid was pleased, though not as much as a man who truly loves his wife. There was a pride in knowing that a man could impregnate his woman, but if he could not love her, then what was the point? Arranged marriages usually ended in this way, loveless and disconnected, but it was clear Alfhild held much love for her husband who was as stubborn as mule. Arvid was a good man, but like most men, he failed in the arts of love.

The news spread rather quickly: Ivar the Boneless's slave was a woman whose life was now her own to command.

A few men saw it as an advantage to steer their eyes away from their duties. Admirers would visit to forge for idle talk, much to Artemis's annoyance, and Arvid's. Usually he'd send them away with a mouthful of curses.

Ivar remained good spirited. The leader of the largest army known to man spent whatever free time he had giving her archery lessons on days where he had the most time to spare. Normally any great leader would strain their minds on more pressing matters, but Ivar always seemed to make the time for her. She never asked for it, but she was starting to enjoy him company.

Artemis supposed life was bearable, for now. Ivar treated her well as he said he would, with a decent space in the church of her own, and she had access to as much food as she could want. After supper, she'd collect as much as she could, offering bread and fruit to the other thralls who were in far worse conditions than she’d ever been. It was the least she could do.

She spends her days in the forge with the other smith's, repairing weapons and restoring the ships, replacing the large iron nails holding the thick wood together. Her nights were held under candle light, mending and creating new chainmail.

Sometimes, her mind wandered off to her father, and whenever it did, she'd have to pause to gather herself before she could burst into tears.

The only thing she could hope for was for the dreadful weather to clear.

...

The weather never did clear.

The rains of York bombarded them. Each day the clouds grew darker and closer, bringing with them the harsh rains that soaked them to the bone. It worried some if they were to travel in a few days time in such conditions, but the men worked through it, preparing their supplies for their journey back to the north.

Ivar managed to crack the iron on the side of his brace, and Artemis spent her morning welding the split metal back together. After wiping her hands on a wet cloth, she quickly puts her cloak on with the hood over her face, running through the showers and into the church.

Inside was mostly vacant, save for a few guards that roamed about with ale in their hands as their pass time. Their eyes lingered on her for a moment, but she learned to ignore it.

The bishop sat alone with a dreary look on his face as he was clearly annoyed with the intoxicated guards. He was seated among the many rows of benches placed within, his chained hands set atop the wooden table top with a plate in between of bread and cheese.

He greets her with a nod of his head. His dirty hands worked to rip apart bread, popping them in his mouth and chewing the pieces unbecomingly. She returns the greeting, quickly making her way to Ivar's chamber.

"You will not like what you see." The bishop's smile was hidden behind a crust of bread. Her obvious confusion amused him.

"What?"

Heahmund chuckles in the way that older men do, deep and guttural. He shakes his head, ripping another piece of bread.

"I've heard many rumors of the boneless leader and his...condition," He begins, watching Artemis's mouth twitch at the corners, "Well, nevermind. I suppose you will see soon enough." Annoyed with his chatter, she stomps over to the chamber, finding the door slightly ajar.

She hesitates, before stepping in.

"Prince Ivar, I've repaired your braces as reque-" She stops, eyes wide at the scene before her. The blonde, Freydis, was completely naked and looming over a shirtless Ivar with a predatory smile. She was in the middle of kneeling, before both look towards the intrusion.

His fingers paused their skimming over the nakedness of her side, and Artemis thought it would be in her best interests to leave such an intimate sight, yet she found herself momentarily frozen in place.

"Gods, Artemis, have you no regard for privacy?" Ivar reacts quickly, pushing Freydis away roughly as he eyed Artemis with a look of...well, she didn't know what to call that look. It was strange, almost apologetic.

"F-forgive me." She stutters, placing the sack with his braces neatly into a corner before running off. She stops beside the bishop, placing a hand over her beating heart as she let's out a shuddering breath. The bishop raises a brow, watching her in amusement as she places her hands over her face in embarrassment.

"I warned you."

"Shut up." She snarls at him, dashing off into the rain without another word. The last thing she heard was Heahmund's laughter echoing after her.

She stomps into the forge, the heat of the fire mixed with rain made an uncomfortable combination of humidity and moisture, dampening her mood further.

"Did Ivar favor the repairs?" Arvid asks cautiously, raising at brow at how disheveled she looked. He was already sensing her foul mood. They were barely on speaking terms, treading softly around each other, but he knew when she was upset, and it was very obvious that she was now. He didn't want to leave her alone, but his duties were to help the other men load their wares onto the ships. He places his cloak about his shoulders, awaiting an answer.

"It was fine." She grunts, not meeting his eyes. Arvid frowns, placing on his hood.

"I am to help the others gather the supplies for departure. See to the repairs." With that he stepped out into the rain, leaving her alone with her troubling thoughts.

So what if he preferred the company of Freydis? That was no business of hers...she attempts to lecture herself.

She peels off her cloak, tossing it aside carelessly. Her hair was soaked, chunks of it across her brow and cheeks from running without her hood on.

The scene replayed in her mind over and over again. The image of Ivar's face and how his fingers lingered over Freydis's skin was seared in her mind. She wondered how his touch would feel on her own skin before scowling.

"Shit." She groans dramatically, wasting no time in busying herself pounding away at the whatever weapons needed repairs. She was glad for the distraction, as her mind raced with unholy thoughts that bolied her blood. She found comfort in the sounds of metal hitting metal, the pattering of the rain soothing her for once.

The familiar scraping of metal and the stabbing of a crutch engulfed the empty forge. She sighs, her eyes peering up at Ivar as he entered. Now fully dressed and looking very much like himself, he was certainly amused.

She glares but says nothing, looking back at the task at hand. The blade was almost new again, and with one more dip in the fire it would be complete.

"Artemis," Ivar grins, grabbing a stool to sit beside her as she worked, "I can hear your ridiculous hammering from my chambers," His smile remained, and before she could raise the hammer again to beat the sword, he curls his fingers around her wrist, halting her actions.

"Something is troubling you." He remarks, easily snatching the hammer from her hand. She rolls her eyes, placing the sword into the bucket of cold water behind her. It was finished anyway.

"I am fine. " She replies stubbornly, attempting to grab the hammer, but he successfully holds it away from her. Even sitting he was much taller then her, and he held the hammer above his head like a child stealing another's toy. Artemis scowls, not bothering to reach for it anymore.

"Why are you here?" Ivar rolled his eyes, handing her back the tool.

"I think it only right to check on the work of my blacksmith."

"Here," She says, removing the sword from the bucket to shove the blade in his face, "Here is my work. Good?" Ivar smirks, humming as he moved two of his fingers to push the blade away from him.

"She was just a whore, Artemis, a bed warmer." She gives him a sharp look, watching as his blue eyes twinkle with mirth. He was teasing her.

"So?"

"So why do you seem so upset?"

"I am not upset."

"You're a terrible liar." She scoffs, pursing her lips.

"They say you freed her. Is it true?" Ivar hesitates.

"Yes."

"I wonder what she has done to merit that," Artemis mutters, "But I suppose it is no concern of mine." She turns away from him, wanting so badly to hide her emotions.

Ivar frowns.

"Artemis, look at me." She sighs, but obeys, moving to bring her gaze back to his. He reaches a hand out, gently moving away the wet pieces of hair from her face with a chuckle. He admires her for a moment, watching her lashes flutter in nervousness. Her cheeks were flushed, and she worried her lip between her teeth.

Ivar sighs, bringing his hand back to run it down the expanse of the new braids he sported. He couldn't bring himself to admit what he was truly feeling, and neither could she. Instead he teased her, offering her a toothy grin.

"Did you want to be in Freydis's place? Did you want to be the one about to suck me off?"

There it was, the reaction he knew was to come. Her face transformed into that of an angry wolf, eyebrows arched and lips set in a line. She wanted to punch him so badly, feeling her fists curl up on instinct.

She stops herself. Still not a good idea to punch a viking prince.

She quickly grabs her cloak, removing her gloves and tossing them at Ivar before stepping out into the foul weather. She needed to think, and be away from him.

...

"So, have you done...anything with her...yet?" Hvisterk inquires, ripping the meat off a chicken bone with his teeth, chewing unceremoniously. Ivar sat quietly, picking at his food, his mind running off.

"Who?"

"You know who, " Hvitserk rolls his eyes but continues, "Because if you don't, I would not mind." He shrugs, a smile breaking out when his brother glares at him.

"You will do no such thing." Ivar growls, slamming his hands down on the wooden table top, immediately silencing the church. He looked around before motioning for everyone to continue their meals, and so the chatter began again. Hvitserk laughs, tossing the chicken bone at Ivar, who quickly swatted it out his way.

"So I see she is still yours without being yours. Tell me brother, how can you have such a brilliant mind for war, yet such ignorance towards affection?" Hvitserk wasn't much of a romantic man himself, but even he wanted to feel the tender touches of love.

"Blame these useless legs." Ivar snarls. His nose flares in annoyance, reaching out to gulp down his own ale, and once he finished it, he grabbed at Hvitserk’s. He slammed the cup down when he finished, and after a moment, he relaxes, drumming his fingers over the table top and finally meeting his brothers eyes.

"Artemis is a distraction," He begins with a hiccup, "She is a Christian."

"That cannot be the issue," Hvitserk snorts, reaching out to eat another leg of chicken, "She is educated in our ways, you saw to that. I think you're scared baby brother."

"Hvitserk," Ivar warns, "Shut. Up."

"And she is beautiful, Ivar, " He continues, lowering his tone, "You decided to free her. You know men will venture towards her like hawks. If you desire her, then claim her." He shrugs.

"She is not the type to be...claimed, Hvitserk. She is not like...Freydis." He mutters the blonde girls name as if a poison were coated on his lips. She had been so convincing, whispering in his ear all the things he wished to hear, telling him the things he was capable of, and yet it all felt so wrong. Especially seeing Artemis's eyes after that.

"What happened with that anyway? Was she any good?" Hvitserk asks, crossing his arms over the table and leaning forward with a suggestive wiggle of his brows.

"Nothing happened," Ivar hisses, "She couldn't-I couldn't," He hesitates, "Artemis walked in on us-"

"She what?" Laughter bubbled in Hvitserk's chest, and he couldn't hold back the grin, "Ivar you must be daft. You’re setting her up to fall into the arms of another! As I said, I wouldn’t mind taking her off your hands-"

"I will fight you and all the others that dare approach her!" Ivar booms, slamming his hands onto the table, raising himself up as if ready to pounce at him. He gulps down the sudden rage, his eyes blinking, noticing his men once again stop to look at him.

"Then what are you waiting for?" Hvitserk asks, far use to his brothers outbursts. Ivar exhales through his nostrils, willing himself to relax. Slowly, he lowers himself back down with a plop, his eyes following his brother as he gets up and leaves the church.

He sighs, ripping apart a loaf of bread, and shoving the piece in his mouth.

How could he feel the way he did for a Christian? He swore to the gods he would stay faithful to his people, and to be with a true northern woman, but he found himself less interested in the women faithful to his gods, and more interested in that insuffereable woman faithful to her one.

"Shit." Ivar groans, dropping his head into his hands.

He was stupid.

...

Daylight came to an end and it had continued to rain in light showers that evening when the moon began to rise into the sky. Artemis searched for a moments peace, leaving the other blacksmith's with the remaining work that needed completing.

She bid England a farewell, knowing she'd never cross the sea again to view its horizon. Although it rained as if the sky were weeping, the surrounding nature was beautiful. Maybe not as beautiful as the hills of Crete or even the mountains in Norway, but it was peaceful.

There was a little yelp behind her, and she felt light nips against her ankles. Looking down she smiles at the pup as it cocks its head at her before wagging his tail, jumping on 2 legs to balance his paws on her leg. He was small, and a bit malnourished, with cream colored fur, black floppy ears and snout.

She often gave him bits of food when she had the chance, giving the pup reason to trail after her.

She smiles, bending down to scratch him behind his ears, grateful for his company. Picking a spot on the dewy grass, she spreads her cloak over it before laying down and closing her eyes with a content sigh. The rain had finally stopped and she was grateful, breathing in the night air. The river Thames' rushing waters helped to sooth her nerves.

It had taken some time, but her anger diffused. She couldn't be angry at him anymore, it was nearly impossible. Or perhaps she was just tired.

Or stupid.

The hound went to snuggle beside her, seeking out her warmth. It must have been an eventful day for both hound and girl, but they could forget all their troubles in that moment.

"Goddess of the moon, and hounds? And perhaps of torment as well." Ivar's voice was unmistakeable. Artemis could pinpoint it in a noisy crowd if she needed to. The sound of his voice in the distance was enough to have the hound act in suspicion.

"Prince Ivar." She greets him, eyes still closed, "To what do I owe the pleasure?" He slithers along the damp grass, shushing the baby hound when it moved to growl at him.

"I never thanked you for repairing my braces, so...thank you." He plops beside her, laying down with his arms behind his head.

Artemis cracks an eye open with a snort. She turns to look at him, her eyes following the line of his profile. Ivar had his long hair loose, the dark strands forming waves from his earlier hairstyle, spread over the grass. It was a look Artemis was enamored with, but would never cared to admit. He was handsome indeed.

"Something tells me that is not why you are here." She says, and he finally turns to look at her, his blue eyes hard with determination.

"I wanted to...apologize for earlier. I did not mean to tease you so." Artemis sat up, turning to peer down at Ivar with a look of disbelief.

"Prince Ivar the Boneless does not apologize."

"I am being serious."

"So am I." He huffs, turning away from her to look at the moon, bright among the stars.

"It's fine." She finally says.

"That's it? It's fine?"

"Yes. "

"I meant what I said, you know," He continues, "Freydis was only a whore to warm my bed." He could almost hear how hard she was thinking.

"It's fine," She repeats, "There is no need to explain yourself, P-"

"Ivar," He cut her off, "You may call me Ivar." She pauses, fingers passing over the pups fur.

"Ivar." She corrects with a sigh, biting her lip to fight back a smile. It was different addressing him without his title.

She plops back down against the damp grass, her eyes moving across the night sky to catch a glimpse of all the stars. There was a comfortable silence that fell between them as they looked up at the heavens.

"Do you ever wonder," Artemis begins, "About the night sky, or the moon and stars?"

"No." Ivar snorts.

"There are stories my ancestors believed of the night," She recounts, "My father use to tell them to me when I was a girl."

"We have stories too. Nótt is the night sky, Mani the moon, and one of Aurvandil's toes is that star right over there." He points up, turning with a frown when Artemis laughs.

"What's so funny?"

"A toe?"

"Yes," He grunts, "What is it you Christian's believe?"

"That God created everything, of course."

"How dull." She laughs again, rolling her body to her side, finding he was already looking at her.

"The old Greeks believed the stars were people rewarded by the gods for noble deeds." Ivar smiles through his confusion.

"I like Aurvandil's toe better."

"It's, uhh, a beautiful toe, I suppose." Ivar chuckles, leaning up on his elbows.

"Why the sudden interest in the stars?"

"It was never sudden," She says, "I would sleep under the stars everyday of my life if I could. It is a comfort to admire the beauty in this world when it can be so cruel."

"Do you think me cruel?" Ivar utters the words softly, lowering himself to face her. It was getting darker, her features hard to make out with the simple light of the moon, but there was enough to see the surprise in her eyes.

"I...I think you cruel when the moment calls for it. Because you feel you need to be." Ivar closes his eyes for a moment, swallowing the lump in his throat. She was right.

"Cruelty wins wars. It conquers land," He pauses with a shaky breath, "But it would not win your heart." Her brows knit together in confusion.

"What?"

Ivar rolls his body closer to hers until he looms over her, maneuvering himself easily between her legs. She didn't put up a fight, though her eyes were wide with shock. He holds himself up, putting a hand atop her chest and feeling how her heart beated like drum.

"What must I do to win your heart?" She blinks up at him, debating if she should take him seriously.

"Why would you want to win my heart?" She holds his stare, their breaths puffing over each other with every timid exhale, "I thought perhaps you held the heart of another."

Ivar sucks his teeth, knowing exactly of who she meant. He dips his body lower until their chests touched and the tip of their noses brushed. His hair shields the sides of her face, cocooning her with his intense eyes. She hesitates before bringing her hands up to his chest, skimming the leather until her fingers curl over his shoulders.

"You are a foolish girl, you know that?" He chuckles, "A beautiful, yet foolish girl." He pauses, biting his lip in nervousness before gently placing his lips over hers.

Her lips were so soft, molding against his like a dance they had rehearsed over and over again. It was everything he could have hoped for, and he already begins to feel the buzz of excitement. She grips the back of his neck, bringing him closer, needing to feel his warmth. She melts into his kisses, feeling a pleasant heat engulf her.

It was...perfect.

After what felt like an eternity, their lips parted with an obscene sound, and he places his brow on hers, breathing in her scent of damp earth. Artemis brings a hand up to trace her fingers over his face, down the length of his nose, and to his jaw. She bites her lip, feeling her skin blaze like a fever.

"Do you really think me foolish?" She whispers, her eyes lingering over his lips before trailing them up to his eyes. They lit up when he smiles, crinkling at the corners.

"Did you really think she could warm my heart?" He counters.

"It was quite convincing." She mutters, "I thought perhaps I’d have to make one for you as I did your braces." She shifts her head away from his to save herself the embarrassment.

"Stop," He says gently, nudging her face back with his nose, "Do not hide from me anymore." He rolls off of her, and within a few seconds, he tugs her over him, her legs coming to rest on either side of his thighs. She grips the neckline of his leather vest to stabilize herself, and his hands sneak up to settle on her hips.

"Ivar, I-"

"Just listen to me, Artemis," She nods, resting her hands over his chest, "I was never fortunate enough to show affection as plainly as any other man could." He takes in a breath, closing his eyes as if to sum up the courage, before opening them again.

"I cannot explain it, but there is something you ignite in me that I could not ignore, no matter how hard I pleaded with the gods to make the ache in my heart stop. I can no longer ignore it." This time he turns his face away from hers, and this time, she brings him back, her palm brushing gently over his sideburn.

"Do not hide from me." She repeats his words with a smile, pushing a lock of hair behind his ear. The same fluttering sensations in her abdomen from days ago resurfaced just from the simple intimate action.

"My heart aches for you." He admits, and she could feel his heart beating wildly as he said those words, his eyes swimming with...fear. She watches him carefully in silence.

"Artemis." Ivar pleads in a tone that was foreign to her ears. He was anxious.

"What of Freydis?" He sucks his teeth, lifting himself on his elbows to get a better look at her.

"If I truly wanted her, would I be wasting time revealing my heart to you?"

"I am not sure what you would do, Ivar." She admits, and he sighs, understanding her skepticism.

"I've never used her before." He mutters under his breath.

"Hmm?" Another sigh.

"I said, I've never used her...services before. Today would have been the first time." Artemis lowers herself over him, pushing him back down so that her face hovered a few inches above his.

"Are you lying?" She questions.

"No, baby bird, I am not," He smooths her over with the nickname, bringing both his hands up to grip the sides of her delicate face, her eyes suddenly glossing over.

"I did not have the strength to rid my thoughts of you. I thought perhaps she could rid them for me. For once, I was wrong." He runs the pads of his thumbs over her cheekbones, and her eyes flutter at the sensation.

There was silence for a moment as their eyes battled each others.

"You torment me." He whines.

"Not a pleasant feeling, is it?" She laughs at the pout forming on his pink lips, letting him guide her back to his lips. He nips at her lips, smiling when she moans in what was a mixture of discomfort and desire. She pulls away, panting slightly as she buried herself in the crook of his neck.

"You are not alone in your affections," She mumbles over his skin, "But I must confess that I am afraid."

"I must confess the same," He says, "Love turns even the bravest of men into cowards. I see that now." She shifts her face to skim her lips over the hot skin of his face before lifting her upper body up again.

"Hmm." She considers his words as she shifts her hips over his, watching how his eyes screwed shut, mouth falling open. She freezes, unaware of what she’d just done.

"Fuck," He growls, his fingers sinking into her hips, "How did you do that?" Her eyes widened, totally naive of her own actions.

"I-I dont know." She stutters. Ivar shifts her hips over his again, and she chokes, closing her eyes as her body trembled from the foreign sensations.

"That," Ivar moans, drinking in the sight of her own face of pleasure, "That."

She feels him growing under her, the pressure pushing up against the heat between her legs. She licks her lips, feeling a desire surge through her that she'd never experienced before.

Ivar stares up at her in wonder, chest heaving and hands twitching over her hips before pulling her down for another heated kiss. His large hands explore the expanse of her back, settling right on the dip, pushing down to follow the rhythm in which she moved.

"I've never done this before." He pants shyly over her lips, releasing another moan that seemed to vibrate through her.

"Neither have I." She pants back, gripping his shoulders tightly.

"But the rumors-"

"Forget the rumors," She interrupts him, moving back just enough to make eye contact, "You believe love is what you feel for me?"

"I do." He nods without hesitation. She throws caution to the wind, swooping down for another kiss before replying.

"Then show me."

...

@heavenly1927 @didiintheblog @rastakami23 @inforapound​ @leilabeaux @ostra814

[courageouslyfearless]

Dream World (Part 2) ☾ Baekhyun

Dream World (Part 2) ☾ Baekhyun

Genre: Fantasy AU

Pairing: Baekhyun X Reader

Word Count: 4.4k

Requested Tags: @itsbaekhyunsbutt​ @strawbaeri-s​ @bbyunz​

| Part 1 |

The Kingdom of Akron had changed drastically in a few months time. When news from the royal court spread through the lands asking the elves to come back home, most of them hesitated. It must be a trick, they thought, the queen must be up to something. Baekhyun knew better. The queen's sudden change of heart was Y/N's doing. She had written the happy ending she had promised. "Happy" was relative. He was content that he could ask his people to come back to Akron, begging them to trust this to be real and not some sort of plot. But deep down, Baekhyun was devastated, as this was only possible because of a woman he was never going to see again. He did his best to push these thoughts to the back of his mind so he could get through his days. But he couldn't chase away the memories that plagued his brain at night. He questioned his own sanity often; he missed her so. More often than not, he dreamed of her as well. It was his own personal prison, inside his head.

It was getting burdensome for him to pretend he wasn't completely and utterly heartbroken. His people looked up to him for guidance, he couldn't afford to show his weaknesses. But truthfully, he was finding it difficult to care as well. So eventually he made one of the toughest choices he's ever had to make; he resigned from his position as ruler of the elves, to someone far more capable, his best friend and mightiest warrior in their army, Chanyeol.

After the crowning ceremony, as his people  celebrated, he had tried to make a quiet exit from the festivities. Elves enjoyed drinking ale and playing dangerous games once inebriated. He wasn't in the mood to play them. Unfortunately, as he worked his way through the people, he kept being stopped by folks who wanted to thank him for bringing them home and ruling them after his father's death. He waved their words away, simply responding with "I didn't do much." Which was the truth, he hadn't actually done much, but he couldn't tell them that. So he kept pushing his way through to leave but once he was almost out, Chanyeol appeared in front of him. Baekhun sighed.

"I just need to get out," he said, looking up at his tall friend, hoping he'd understand.

Chanyeol's eyes studied the prince with careful thought.

"You're leaving, aren't you? It wasn't just about ruling, you don't want to be in Akron."

Baekhyun was surprised that his friend had read him so well. He gave him a small smile.

"That was a pretty good guess," he started, then his smile faded, "Everything about this place reminds me of her. I can't do it anymore. I'm going back to the mountains. I heard there's still a group of elves staying there because they don't trust the Queen. I will try to convince them that it is safe to come back." An excuse he knew, but it felt better to think of his journey as a mission and not as him giving up and running away from the memory of her.

Chanyeol read the truth in his face as clear as if he were telling him. "If that's what you need to do to feel better then do it. But you've never been a man that loses hope. Not once have I seen you surrender. Why start now?"

"What are you trying to tell me, Chanyeol? I told you there's nothing I can do. She's gone... forever." That last part hurt to say, he almost felt like he couldn't breathe every time the truth hit him.

"You were set on keeping her here once, remember? You searched high and low for a spell to do it. Then finding the ingredients," Chanyeol shuddered at the memory, "getting the troll's heart was some nasty business," he shook his head, "anyways, what I'm trying to say is, you found a way once. If you really can't live without her, then do it again. Just find another way."

Baekhyun stared at his friend. Could he do it? Could he defy the laws of nature.

"I used up all the magic," he said, defeated.

Chanyeol groaned, exasperated, "Magic doesn't just vanish from existence. It's all around us, in the trees, in the river, in every fiber and molecule of life, there is magic. It is sown into the very essence of the world. You just have to learn how to harness it. I'd start with the nymphs, if I were you."

Baekhyun thought about it. He had nothing to lose by trying. He was set on leaving Akron anyways, why not leave with some hope as company?

Finally, he smiled. At this, Chanyeol was relieved, because it was the most genuine smile he'd seen from him since he lost her. He took this as a good sign.

"Now go get your princess."

~

Meanwhile, you were wrestling with the tape that had sealed and kept safe your possessions inside the cardboard boxes. Unpacking had become quite the chore as you couldn't find the box cutter or literally anything with an edge to cut through the tape. Your new apartment looked like a war zone and you expected to come out as the victor. If only you could find something to...

"Keys, of course!"

You grabbed your set of keys dangling from the hook by the door and searched through the label on the boxes to find the ones that you wanted to open first. The one with "bedroom" written on it with a black sharpie caught your eye first. After cutting through the tape, you opened it to go through your belongings. It was mostly books and novels. You smiled, that is, until you spotted a familiar blue cover with stars on it. Your dream journal. You hadn't opened it since... well, since that time. Writing after losing him was unthinkable. There was no way you could ever write another character to life, let alone love them as you had loved him.

You reached for it now with trembling hands and a racing heart. The journal was in pretty bad shape. You had tried getting rid of it once, throwing it in a lake during your spring break vacation, hoping the tightness in your chest would subside. Watching it sink under did the opposite. You had rushed into the water to save it. To save him. Or the memory of him. That afternoon you hurried back home, to find a way to dry and save it from being completely ruined. As painful as it was, you didn't want to forget him. He wasn't part of the real world, but he was real to you.

You opened it now, for the first time, flicking through the wrinkled pages. It was still readable but only to you, the one who had written every word and sentence on it. The tightness in your chest had become a permanent resident and you no longer let it have that much control over you. You ignored it this time as well.

With tears burning in your eyes you started reading. Akron. The Queen. Baekhyun. You smiled at the part where you guys met.

The dress was too revealing, you worried, staring at your reflection in the mirror. You kept pulling up at the fabric over your bust , hoping it would show less cleavage. Your maidens hovered about with jewelry and powders and anything that could make you look more regal. The shortest one, with the dazzling smile and gentle fingers, placed a gold crown on your head. You weren't used to the weight of it. It felt awkward. You thought it made you feel off balance.

Three knocks at the door announced a new visitor.

"Come in," with the words, you also breathe in deeply, maybe a little too quickly as you become dizzy from the action. Your're still in a daze when he walks in.

Plain brown pants. Plain brown tunic. And that's all that is plain about him.

As you finally fix your eyes on his face, your heartbeat picks up its pace. His smile was the first thing that drew you in. It was playful and kind at the same time. You were confused as to how he managed that. His eyes were an ordinary brown at first glance, but the way they held your gaze was anything short of extraordinary. It felt like he could see right through you all the way down to your soul, where you kept the most private things about yourself hidden. You found yourself at a loss for words and at the widening of his smile you knew he could tell he had an effect on you.

"Your majesty," he finally spoke, "my name is Baekhyun, I was told I will have the pleasure of working as your servant from this day onward."

You will never forget the way he spoke then. As if he knew you, your heart and he was ready to take it for himself. You should've known then that he'd succeed. How could he not? He was confident, funny, kind and sometimes a little naughty as well. There was nothing predictable about him. He challenged you almost every occasion he could.

There was only one time you could recall when he was none of these things. Just one time, when his confidence left his shoulders, and his  eyes couldn't seem to find yours. You remember how quiet his voice was as he reached with trembling fingers to hold your hand for the first time. You'd been crying, reminiscing the scene at home. Your parents had been arguing. But the situation had escalated quickly. Words turned into shoving, shoving turned into objects being thrown. The next thing you saw was your mom slide across the dining room floor and into the kitchen, her body hitting the refrigerator. She'd dislocated her arm from the force. You were compelled to go to the hospital with her and lie about how she got hurt. They always made you lie for them. Once back home you'd had to clean up the broken glass and the blood stains on the floor from someone's bare feet who had walked over it.

He'd cried with you as you told him, holding you in his arms like you were his to hold. And you let him, because when everything in your world felt wrong, the warmth of his embrace was the only thing that felt right. His strength was the only thing keeping you together. Just that once did he hesitate. Only that time did he hold back. The next time you dreamed of him, he stole his first kiss from your lips. He never hesitated after that.

So how could you have stopped the beautiful force of nature that was Baekhyun from taking your heart? Just as the sun comes out every day and the moon reflects its light at night, just as everything that happens without fail, it was inevitable to fall in love with him.

But now all that was left of him was this dreadful looking journal and the memories in your head, which will wither away with time until you question if it even happened at all. His eyes will fade like the ink of your favorite purple pen on these wrinkled pages. His smile will become jaded by reality, distorted by the smudged words on a piece of paper. But the worst part was that if he felt for you as he had confessed the last time that you were together, then he was feeling as hopeless and heartbroken as you were. That thought made you sadder than anything else.

You closed the journal gently, as to not cause more damage to it. Then you walked to your room and stored it in the top drawer of the night stand by your bed. You needed to stay focused on the task at hand, which was to unpack everything still stored away in boxes. Pushing thoughts of him out of mind, you went back to work.

Once you are more or less done putting away the stuff in the kitchen, you lay down on the carpeted floor of the small living room. You had no furniture for this space yet, so it was empty. You closed your eyes slowly as they had become heavy with exhaustion. You knew if you kept it up for too long, you'd fall asleep right there. That's how tired you were. So instead, you force yourself to stand up. You decided to take a warm bath and then head out to bed.

You rarely did nice things for yourself, but candles had always been a frivolous need of yours. You lit one in the bathroom as you watched the tub fill up. Once the water was high enough, you undressed and got in the tub. You laid down, resting your head back on the wall as the candle spread the sweet aroma of coconut sunrise in the air.

At this level of relaxation, it doesn't take long for you to drift off into a soft dream.

You were surrounded by tall trees that towered over you like some kind of mythical giants. You glanced up at them, wondering if they would suddenly come to life. They didn't, but the thought that in a dream it was possible, kept you alert to your surroundings. Looking away from them, your gaze comes down to what's in front of you, a vast lake. There were tiny lights shimmering over the water, flying into the air and swirling in perfect unison like small tornadoes. It took you a few seconds to realize they weren't lights.

"Fairies," you whispered. But as if they had heard you speak, they stopped moving, and this made it easier to see their tiny little wings flapping to keep them in the air. You kept quiet and eventually they continued their flight ritual.

"Pixies, actually."

Your heart stopped. Literally, skipped a beat, painfully reminding you that it was still in your chest.

You recognized the voice. You'd know it anywhere. But you were afraid of looking back. You were afraid of hoping it was him and not see his face. You hadn't dreamed of him since the pen incident. So you stayed like that, frozen in place, fear rooting you to that spot.

After a few seconds passed by, you felt it. A hand, resting on your arm, the touch light as a feather, bringing goosebumps across your skin.

"You said writing was the only thing getting you through tough times, how have you survived this long without it?"

You took a deep breath, still unable to move but ready to respond anyways.

"I can't write another you."

That was all you could say. You knew he'd understand the implication of your words. You couldn't risk loving anyone else. You couldn't risk forgetting him. Or replacing him. You wanted your heart to be his and no one else's.

"Then write me again. Write about all the moments we should've lived together. Write me into life."

What was he saying? Why did he want you to torture yourself by writing about him?

"But it hurts," you find yourself saying, tears welling up under your eyes.

"I know, princess, I know. But I need you to write me as if I was never gone."

You turned around then, half expecting to find him standing there, but you were met by a rush of wind that carried his last words as a whisper.

"Write me."

You woke up from the dream in a start, looking around your bathroom like he might appear there from thin air. But as reality set in, your heart sank. Of course he would never be there. Even in the dream you couldn't see him. You brushed away a stray tear from your cheek. He wanted you to write him. About him. You didn't know if it was really him or just your brain playing games with you again, but it was the only sign you'd received from him in months. You wanted to believe it was really him. Your broken heart needed to hope it was him.

So that night you wrote him. Every detail. Every habit. Every look. The way that his lips taste. The hint of gold in his eyes when sunlight washed over his face. The feel of his hand on your cheek. Anything that you could remember about him.

You also wrote about moments that never happened. You wrote him as someone who walked in the real world, facing your kind of problems. Working a 9 to 5 to pay the bills. Running to the corner store to get you that chocolate ice cream you'd been craving since the week started. Eating ramen several times a week when money was tight. Sitting on the couch, the T.V. on in the background as he watched your face  instead of the screen. You wrote about anything you could think of. Anything that you wished you could do with him. You painted his image with vivid and ordinary description, because you wished to live the simplest and most common every day moments with him.

You lost track of time again, as you often did when you were writing. Your hand ached by the time you stopped. You could feel the beginnings of a blister on your middle finger from where you'd been holding the pen with fierce purpose. The shot of adrenaline that hearing his voice gave you had fueled you for hours. But now exhaustion was pulling at your eyelids, making it hard to keep them open. With a sigh, you laid down in bed and hid your body under the covers. You fell asleep then, staring at the ceiling, hugging your journal close to your chest and with a wish in your mind to meet him in your dreams again.

But no such thing happen. You had a dreamless and uneventful night. When you woke up, it was from the sunlight hitting your face because in your tiredness you had forgotten to close the blinds to your windows.

"Stupid sun," you mumbled at your pillow. Covering you face with a blanket to give your eyes time to adjust to the brightness.

"What did the sun ever do to you, princess?"

You froze. Literally, stopped moving in your bed at the sound of his voice.

I've finally lost it, you thought, I've finally lost my mind.

That must be the only explanation. His voice, had been so clear it almost sounded like he was next to you. Writing about him last night must have driven you over the edge. You laughed at yourself and where your imagination had taken you. It wasn't funny, but still you laughed, because there was nothing left for you but to do so, or you'd end up in tears.

"I missed your laugh," you heard the voice again.

This time you didn't laugh. You couldn't. The voice was closer and with the tone you were able to visualize what his face would look like as he spoke. He'd be cupping your face in his hands, his eyes holding yours as if to project his honesty through that one look. It was such a beautiful image the one in your brain, that you could couldn't move to confront it. If you indeed had lost your mind, at least you'd have his words to keep you company.

"Y/N." This was the second time you had ever hear him call you by your name and upon hearing it, your heart did somersaults. You pulled the blanket down, ever so slowly, afraid of meeting an empty space besides you.

But it wasn't empty. Baekhyun laid there, on the side of the bed that was always unoccupied. Until now.

You felt your eyes widening, but you couldn't open your mouth to speak. You didn't know what to say. You were speechless.

Baekhyun smiled as you stared at him. Reaching a hand to touch your face. His touch was warm against your skin. You almost closed your eyes to enjoy the sensation, but you were afraid that he'd be gone when you opened your eyes again. So you kept staring at him, but finally found the will to speak.

"Is this a dream?"

He smiled wider, his eyes twinkling with mischief as he moved closer to you. He only stopped when his face was an inch away from yours. Your breath caught in your throat with the proximity. He was so close you caught a whiff of a woodsy scent that you remembered as exclusively his from your time in Akron.

"Baek-"

Before you could finish saying his name, he trapped your lips with his in a kiss. You didn't want to close your eyes. You didn't want to end the fantasy. But he kissed you fervently and you found yourself losing the will quickly as you kissed him back as desperately. His hand moved under the blanket that covered you and found your waist, pulling your body closer from there until it was completely against his.

As quickly as he started the fire, as swift he was about putting it out when he stopped kissing you. You almost whined in protest and he chuckled in response.

"Does that feel real enough to you?" he asked.

You opened your eyes to meet his beautiful brown ones. The sun was hitting them just the right amount and you could see your reflection in them. You pressed a hand to his face, touching him for the first time.

"How is this possible?" You wanted to ask other questions too, but this was the most important one. "You told me... you told me you used all the magic in Akron. That I would never return once I left."

He smiled, that smile of his that you loved. The one that made him look years younger than he is. His playful smile. "There is always more magic to be found and to be created. A friend reminded me of that. You couldn't come back to me, so I came to you instead."

Your heart was beating so fast that you wondered how it didn't just stop working. There was no way it was healthy for it do that every time you were with Baekhyun. You were still confused and he was being very vague.

"But how did you do it?" you pressed.

He reached for your hand, the one still touching his face and intertwined your fingers with a look of awe in his eyes.

"I didn't. You did," he paused, his gaze meeting yours, "you actually wrote me to life".

You thought he must be kidding, so you waited for the punchline. But his one never came. He was serious.

"I did what?!"

He smiled at you with so much fondness, seeing you as confused as you were.

"You wrote me to life, Y/N. First in your dreams and now here."

"You're real? Like real real?" you knew you sounded idiotic, but it was something hard to wrap your head around.

Baekhyun was a character to a story that you poured a lot of love and time into. Some writers like to say that their characters have a life of their own. But it's just an expression, it's supposed to mean they basically write themselves. They come without effort. But what he is saying is very different. What he is saying sounds so incredibly crazy yet wonderful and though you don't want to let yourself feel hopeful, a seed had taken root in your heart. A seed that you hoped would bloom into reality, a reality where you could live a life of happiness with the one you love.

You knew he could see it on your face, what you were thinking and what you were feeling. So he finally stopped being cryptic.

"I am real. While you wrote me and created a connection between me and the real world, I had one created from Akron to here. The field with the lake where I spoke to you last night, well, the water pixies conjured a portal from our side and you fabricated one from this side, through your journal. Now I can come and go as long as you don't destroy the journal."

He was being truthful, not a note of humor in his expression. You couldn't believe it. It was something out of a fantasy novel. Before you knew it, tears were clouding your vision. Baekhyun reacted as quickly as usual, out of pure instinct, arm draped protectively around your body. You hid your face in the crook of his neck to hide your crying face from him.

"I can't believe I get to live with you." You words are strained with emotion, but you say them anyways.

"I can't believe I get to love you," he says in return. "I thought... I thought I'd lost you forever." His voice cracked at the end. This made you pull back to look at his face. You were surprised to see him crying as well. You knew his pain and that sense of loss because you had felt it yourself.

"Baekhyun." You didn't know what else to say.

"I love you, princess. In Akron and here, in a world I know nothing about."

You smiled at this. The most genuine smile you had ever smiled before. You finally let yourself think about a future with him, because for the first time, it was possible.

"I love you too. I can't wait to teach you all about it. There's a lot you'll love and... well, like you told me once, it's not all rainbows and butterflies."

He smiled at that and you did as well.

Overcome with emotion you kiss him again. Because you can. Because you thought you would never get to do it again. You kiss him and he kisses you back. You both try to project how much love and devotion you have for each other. Your love is literally one from stories. Made up. But more real than anything you had ever experienced in your life. And now you will get to live it and test it and maybe even get that happy ending people like to dream about.

____________________________________

* Masterlist *

____________________________________

A/N: So that came out very meh. But also I always think that about the stuff I write so it’s probably me being a perfectionist. Anyways, hope you still enjoyed it! Thank you so much for the support and love you showed for this random idea I had that turned into this story. Love you guys!