#the ebb and flow the waves of change

[haleyincarnate]

How else do you fill a void other than with darkness? How do you bend into the light and not burn completely? How do you hold a heart and not feel it struggling to beat?

[felibrary]

wish you were sober

synopsis: in which you drunkenly confess to aventurine and he doesn’t believe you, rather believing that he’s not worthy, less even deserving of your love. despite that, his insecurity, you're under the belief that aventurine deserves all the love in the world. love - something that you want to introduce to him and show him “what it means to love you.”

pairing: aventurine x reader | wordcount: 2.3k (i’ve gone insane) | content & warnings: hurt/comfort, alcohol; they're both drunk, insecure aventurine, unestablished relationship, they label themself as friends but reader barely knows anything abt him LMFAO, dual pov, DO YALL GET THE REFERENCE IN THE SYNOPSIS LMFAO??, rushed ending icl, half assed-ly proofread; oneshot

a/n: yesterday i listened to wish you were sober by conan gray and was like “damn.. this’d fit sunday” but then i asked azul what he thinks cause i couldn’t decide between su**day and <aventurine3. and they replied with that it’d be so much more angsty with aventurine (okay not quote on quote but you get the msg) and i dislike su**ay anyway!! so boom! (y’all are still getting another sunday fic..yay..ig.....)

tags: beloved @azullumi <3 and @cherieiu (stop punching me)

“i love you.” 

your confession doesn't come over as surprising for aventurine, he anticipated it. just like how the ebb awaits the flood, yearning for it but disappearing as soon as it arrives. missing out on each other for just a split second, as the other party sweeps and slips away from the grasp of the other. nevertheless aventurine is glued to his seat on the rich sofa. 

colorful poker chips are splattered around the rich mahogany floor tiles, bottles of vodka and wine, some already with their cork removed and empty, others who haven't even been opened yet. a chandelier adorning the ceiling of the big room, its lightbulbs glowing dimly in the caliginous room, illuminating it.

one of the lamps flickers while the others continue to shine brightly - too brightly aventurine thinks, if he were to watch them any longer he’d feel like melting. the closer he got to you the sun, the deeper he'd fall into the bottomless pit he managed to crawl out of.

the room reeks of alcohol. is the temperature rising? he feels like every time the last number on the digital clock changes the warmer it gets. his blond bangs stick to his forehead and beads of sweat are running down his flushed cheeks - that answers his question.

it’s hot - humid even. he's not sure if he's able to bear the heat in this narrow atmosphere any longer. he tries to blow the sweat away by waving at his face with his hand, trying to cool off his face - a futile attempt. god, what's this a/c even good for, if it can't do it's damn job.

he opens his mouth with the intent of wanting to say that you're lying, that you shouldn't say stuff like that when you're drunk and that you'll regret later. but he doesn't, he refrains from doing so. instead he gulps down the words immediately, letter for letter. they're a bitter pillow to swallow. flowing down his throat like the wavering water running down a stream - intoxicating, similar to the alcoholic liquid you've downed.

the blond looks at you through half lidded eyes. you lift yourself off the ground, he takes notice that you have a hard time doing so, legs slightly trembling as you remove them from the floor tiles. (you've always been a lightweight he thinks)

as you make your way over to him, standing up and wanting to sit yourself next to him on the large black leather sofa. you clumsily bump against one of the almost empty shot glasses that still lies on the floor. tripping over the small glass as your foot comes in contact with it. the glass that still contained some of the red wine you've poured in, not too long ago, tumbles as easily as a domino tile, falling upon the smallest touch. making the flimsy piece immediately meet the ground.

it breaks into a few sharp shards and the remaining alcohol starts seeping out of it, staining your once white socks with crimson colored alcohol. “ah m’sorry!” you mumble as you quickly bend down to gingerly pick up the fragments, placing them in the palm of your hand carefully, so that they won't cut you and leave slits.

aventurine takes another peek at you as you tidy up. your face is flushed, your cheeks tinted in a bright red and you let out incoherent sorrys, blabbering incomplete phrases. he wants to tell you that it's alright. that he feels the same and reciprocates yours feelings, that you don't have to apologize and he'll help you.

but he freezes.

the words that he wants to tell you, the ones he's been longing to say don't leave his mouth. neither does he move. instead he coughs, continuing to watch you while you clean up. a tissue has found its way into your right hand, helping you soak up the alcohol. (its his hand that should be intertwined with yours, not the tissue)

his throat hurts. 

(he's not in the right mindspace to acknowledge if it's because of you - the unsaid words that he didn't reveal to you yet or because of the alcohol.) 

it's dry and lacks any kind of refreshing liquid that'd quench the drought that occurs in his throat. he contemplates, thinking about the choices he has. swallowing down his own spit isn't worth it, it makes his throat burn even more.

he comes to the decision to pour himself another glass of alcohol. (debatably his worst decision until now.)

twirling the almost translucent liquid in his glass, before fully gulping it down in one go. a bit of the alcohol escapes the depths of his mouth, running down his chin and messily staining his porcelain-like skin. 

he doesn't like the bitter taste, he can't seem to befriend himself with it. (neither can he befriend him with himself) although it's not the worst, he's just not able to find a reason to like it. after all, after a single sip it starts to sting as it enters his mouth.

the scent isn't great either, it smells strong, too strong for his liking, a scent that reeks of cleaning detergent and not to mention, it prickles on his tongue and burns as it slides down his throat when it makes its way into his blood. but there's one thing aventurine can't deny: it's efficiency.

it fulfills its purpose well making him lightheaded and dizzy, to the point of forgetting everything.

all sounds are drowned out. even the lame pop songs playlist you turned on because you insisted that “it'll set the right mood” is barely audible for him now. his ears hurt hellish, he wants to put his hands over his ears to escape the white noise. the sound that plays in his ears is similar to the one of when an airplane starts boarding - an unpleasant noise.

the only sound that remains for aventurine’s slightly drunk state is your voice. it echoes through his ears. your drunk confession playing over and over in his mind like a broken record, anticipating the day it'll be fixed, so the misery it is in ceases. 

his sloppy and sluggish movements - the way his hands tremble as he pours himself another glass, the nervousness that forms inside his body and the blush that spreads as quickly as a wildfire on his cheeks - they're tormenting him, and he blames none other than the alcohol for it. 

“a drunk mind speaks a sober heart, drunk words are sober thoughts, when you're drunk you reveal your true desires” his ass. the both of you are just friends. friends that are acquainted through work, nothing more, nothing less. aventurine couldn't bear to lose his only friend, after all he's already lost everything.

(anything he'd never want to lose will eventually be lost. it is as if fate had decided that everything that is worth wanting, everything that he wants to have and keep, will be lost the moment he gets his fingers on it. to aventurine there’s nothing worth pursuing at the cost of prolonging a life that is full of anguish.)

his father whom he never got to meet, his mother and sister whom he was forced to leave behind and kakavasha, his younger self. all will be lost - everything was lost. if he wasn't careful now, one slip up on the thin ice or feet accidentally trampling over the floor full of eggshells, he'd not only lose himself in the process, but you too. his one and only friend.

crossing this line he set for himself, as he drew it along the earthy ground with his calloused fingers, trembling as they traced over the mud.

walking past the border that was created to keep everything and everyone distant from him, as he stood on the other side turning his back from the world, walking away and waving, to bid his goodbye from them.

the wall he built around him to shield him from the world, protecting everyone from the ugly thing that was kept inside , protecting himself from the people that only want to torment him.

forgetting all of these things, leaving them behind for you would mean showing you who he really was. a frail human being that hides himself behind a mask. the theater curtains revealing the person who played the role of the man who had called himself aventurine for the past years. placing him in the spotlight and giving the audience a show they'll never forget, like the fool he is. 

aventurine doesn't think that he is loveable, that he's undeserving of love - your love.

you think that aventurine deserves all the love in the world. providing him with said love, embracing him and showing him how pure love can be. 

the blond caught your eye right away. he was charming, funny and handsome. aventurine turned into your little work crush, your motivation to convince yourself just to see him.

the road was rocky and full of obstacles, set up by none other than aventurine. it gave you a better perception of who he really was and it intrigued you even more. why does he hide himself away from the world? why does he convince himself to not get anyone close to him even though he longs for the touch of another person? who is aventurine, really?

you can't answer any of these questions and neither are you certain if aventurine really can but that doesn't stop you. you continue to climb up all the way to know who he is, who the person you fell in love with really is. 

love, is weird isn't it? it comes in all different shapes and forms.

if someone were to ask you why you like him, you wouldn't know how to answer, because neither do you know.

but nevertheless you still like him. why? how come you like someone that you don't even know, someone that is foreign to you, almost like a stranger. even though the both of you label yourself as “friends.”

you're not sure what the color is that infuses his irises, he keeps them hidden beneath his glasses. despite that, you long to stare into his eyes and let all the plain and dull parts of your life get painted in the same colors of his hues. a color that brings you comfort and cures your sorrow. it's the hues that you want to stare at as you tuck a golden strand of hair behind his ear, in return he grants you a small but genuine smile.

a smile that you want to see more often, one that you want to keep for yourself. 

as for his scent, every person has their own unique and special scent. you plead to the gods above that he’ll let you bury your head into the crook of his neck and absorb his smell so it becomes the only scent that lingers around your nose. 

there are so many more things that you want to know about him but you're unaware of. one might say that you're odd for liking - no, loving someone that you barely know.

a stranger, a foreign person whom you know little about to almost nothing about, is the person that you love. absurd isn't it? but love is weird, love can be pure and ridiculous, but it can also be painful and heart wrenching. love is a feeling that not only brings joy to oneself but also causes pain. but it's a feeling that you never want to get rid of - not until you introduced aventurine to it. showing him what love has to offer and has in store.

in the iridescent light aventurine remains to look as ethereal as ever. a scent of vodka lingers around aventurines figure, the smell is strong, but you couldn't care less. his hair is disheveled but nevertheless continues to shine in the dazzling light. he lets out a tiring yawn and you couldn't imagine aventurine any more beautiful than in this moment.

vulnerable and for your eyes only. making it unable for you to tear your gaze away from the sight before you. 

he's like a shooting star, if you don't continue to watch and follow it and blink, even if it's just for a single moment - it's all over and you'll never see it again. 

“stop looking at me like that.” aventurine mumbles quietly, almost whispering. upon hearing that, you make your way over to him, glass shards long forgotten as you place them on the small coffee table in front of the sofa.

your arms reach out to aventurine, clutching your hands on his shoulders. your grip is sluggish but you don't falter and continue to hold him. “like what?” your lips are slightly parted and your gaze is drowsy as you counter aventurine's question with a question of your own.

“like that.” he placed the hand that just rested on his thigh, on your cheek, slightly caressing it. “you're just gonna hurt the both of us if you keep this up any longer.” he's not sure where the boldness came from, he blames it on the alcohol once again; it finally seemed to kick in.  

“‘m not lying” you hiccup. tomorrow i’ll tell you how much i love you, no matter if it's once” a cough exits your throat “or a hundred times.” the words that leave your mouth are slurred, they're incoherent and muddled up. your grip on his shoulder weakens, hands slipping off and head falling against his chest.

..did you seriously just black out?

aventurine can only sigh at that. a small smile finds its way onto his face. he snakes his arms around you waist, snuggling his face into the crook of your neck and hugging you with the remaining power he had left before falling asleep. guess there'll be a lot to unpack tomorrow but for now he allows himself to indulge in this shared moment between the two of you. 

© VYNICITY 2024. stealing, copying, translating, reposting my works on other platforms or feeding them to ai is not permitted.

e/n: hope yall enjoyed this as much as i hated writing this!! (i wanted to throw up) i acc hate how i wrote this. it's not as choppy as when i started writing it but it still feels so rushed and so idk.. anyway reblogs with comments are very much appreciated! >< ALSO that one paragraph written in brackets..guess whose speech it was inspired byyyyy (hint: bsd!!)

[deadsetobsessions]

Tim Drake, Danny’s human identity in this universe, is a boy trapped in an empty manor with absentee parents a low socialization.

Danny Phantom, on the other hand, is Gotham City himself. He could fly, he could interact, he could be the heart of his city like he needs to be. From the lowest of the lows to the highest of the highs, Danny loved the people that were his. Well, most of them. Child molesters often found themselves crossing paths with a vengeful, mostly recovered Robin.

He is the city, he is Gotham. And with his status came more changes, ones he welcomes more readily that the changes that came with his title of Ghost King.

Being a city couldn’t change him as much as it would have, had he gained the title before becoming King. But now, his shadows are dark, curling around his shoulders and curling away what little light he allowed into his city. His skin, having once glittered green with stars and galaxies and black holes, clouds over just a bit. It gives him a misty quality. His hands become sharper, stronger. Gargoyle-like. He wonders what he looked like to Batman, holding his broken son cradled safely to himself. He’s crueler, now, but that’s easily balanced by his years of being a vigilante himself.

He loves these changes. They are loved in a way changing into Dead Danny Phantom and Ghost King Danny Phantom will never be loved. And even though his human features are different in a way he never had to deal with as Danny Fenton, because it was his body that he died in, Danny finds himself enjoying the distinction. And he enjoys when they combine, because in the end, they’re just facets of who he is, now.

Gotham flies through his city, and enjoys it as a whole. A bigger picture.

Tim Drake walks through his city, and enjoys it as an individual. The smaller picture.

Being Gotham reminds him of what he had to protect as a whole. A duty he gladly bears.

Being Tim reminds him of the people he’s meant to help, the stories he doesn’t get as Danny. A connection he gladly encouraged.

Gotham is power. He is duty, he is fierce love. But for the good of the whole.

Tim is kindness. He is choice, he is gentle devotion. But for the good of the individual.

He’s both.

Danny. Danny Phantom.

Phantom glides through the smog.

The ebb and flow of people is his life blood, the thrumming of life and death and fear and hate and love and everything the city is sung through him and Danny sung back with everything he had. Danny is the gargoyles perched high, watching everything. He’s the stone curves of the sewers, sheltering his rats and mutant murderous crocodile man. The is no love comparable to a city’s mutant rats and their sewers. Ancients, he loves his city.

It would be nice, Danny thinks wryly, if they’d love me enough to stop blowing up buildings.

The sting of destruction to his city would hurt much more, had he not also been King. Regardless, every time there’s an explosion or general large scale property damage, he feels a stab of mild pain. Catching sight of his Bats, Danny stays invisible while following them. He wills the shadows to cradle them, to hide them further. He softens the stone, the mortar, the steel, just a hint. Their footsteps, silent and aided by the city himself. The wind steal away the noise of the grappling guns, so when Danny’s favorite vigilante duo (a fascination he shared with original text!Tim) broke into the building, not a single soul aside them are aware of the intrusion.

Batman skulks across the support beams, Robin following with an anticipatory grin. Danny floats, invisible, undetectable, besides them.

“C’mon!” A goon grunts beneath them. Danny tilts his head. A… Dresden Aberthy. Wow. That’s one hell of a name.

“Hurry it up! Boss said Batman’s going to get here soon!” Another goon- Robbert- said, waving around a gun like a moron at the terrified hostages. Danny could tell half of them were part of a tour bus, mostly because the other half were his Gothamites, bored and unfairly used to this kind of thing. The tourists… He’s fond of them, having kept track of their progress through his city. He doesn’t care for intruders on his haunt, but tourists like to appreciate his city and its doubtlessly Sam-approved architecture. Most of them. Rude tourists get pigeon shit on their heads and food stolen by his lovely rats.

He’ll have to make sure none of the bullets hit the tourists. He likes this group, even if he has enough awareness to question their sanity in choosing his city to sightsee. He knows it’s a mess. It’s Danny’s mess though, so whatever.

——

All said and done, Batman whoops ass and Robin rescues the hostages just fine. Danny grins proudly as Robin knees a guy in the crotch and punches a lady’s throat in order to incapacitate them.

After they tied the goons up, and interrogated them for Two Face’s plans- explode a quarter of Gotham to distract the Bats from his diabolical plan to murder half of Gotham’s judges and lawyers that have been going after him and his people- the duo retreats to the rooftop.

“Didja think Gotham saw that?”

Batman goes to reply, but Danny beats him to it, coming back to visibility with a wind touched laugh.

“I did, little Robin.” Danny smiles, fangs and shadows on display as his vigilantes startles and whips around to face him. “You did well.”

Robin- Jason!- gapes at him.

“I see you’ve recovered, little bird.”

“Gotham! Oh. Wow. People always said Gotham was a lady, but you’re a guy!”

“It was a Lady,” Danny confirmed. “It’s complicated, little bird.”

“So, you’re really… you’re really Gotham? The city?”

Danny looks at Robin with the weight of the city behind his gaze.

“I think you know the answer to that. But yes, I am your city.”

“Constantine,” Batman starts. “He said that city spirits only appear in times of grave danger.”

There is deference in his words. Batman is Batman for Gotham, after all. Danny just wishes he could… well, be friendlier with his knights. May this is a good place to start.

Are you in danger? What threats do we need to handle? How can I help? How can I protect? Please, let me help.

His Knight always felt more than he ever says. Danny smiles.

“Was Robin’s wellbeing not in grave danger?” Danny floats closer. “I am your city. You protect me, it is only right that I protect you, no?”

“Thank you for saving me, Gotham!” Robin’s grin is a touch more sincere than usual.

“Of course, Robin. You are loved.”

“Is there… a reason you’ve shown yourself today? Gotham.”

Danny chuckles, understanding the awkwardness that was Batman addressing someone with deference.

“I wanted to tell you that you did well tonight. Those tourists weren’t harmed in the slightest. Well done.” Danny gave Robin a playful but sincere thumbs up.

“They weren’t a match for us!”

“No, they weren’t.” Danny ruffles Robin’s hair, noticing how still he grew at it. “Robin was too fast for them. That maneuver at the end was masterfully executed.”

Batman clears his throat and Danny resists the urge to laugh at him. It would be mean.

“Thank you, for the… praise.”

Fuck it. He’s played well behaved for too long.

“Yes. I read in child rearing books that positive reinforcement is necessary for healthy development. You did well, Batman.”

Despite trolling Batman- and somehow holding a straight (and hopefully wise face)- he meant every word.

Allowing a small smile to slip at Robin’s chortles and Batman’s quiet sputtering, Danny moves on.

“Where is Nightwing, Batman?”

“He’s still on a mission...”

“If it is awkward to refer to me as Gotham, Phantom will do.”

Batman dips his head once. “In space, with the Teen Titans.”

“I see. Please tell him I request his presence,” Danny barely waits for Batman’s oddly acquiescing agreement before summoning a pigeon.

“Follow her,” Danny instructs the duo. “She’ll lead you to the places with explosives. I will guide you through her, to Harvey Dent.”

Danny winces as another explosion rings out.

“Your face is cracking!” Robin exclaimed, worried. He surged forward to stare at the hairline cracks appearing on Danny’s jaw.

“That would be the explosives. Any damage to the city will be shown on me.”

“Well take care of it.” Batman growled, shoulders straightening once more into an imposing symbol.

“Yeah!”

“I know you will. Stay safe.” Danny disappears, spreading his awareness and directing his Birds to the explosives that will go off the fastest.

Batman and Robin share a glance and leaps off the roof, ready to save their city once more.

——

Tim Drake wanders around Crime Alley, and meets a blonde nine year old trying to throw hands at her absentee Riddler knockoff of a dad. He dodges the brick en route to his face and kicks the guy’s knees out.

“You okay?”

The girl blinks. She stares at her dad, groaning on the dirty street of crime alley, and flicks her gaze back up to Tim, who waits casually.

“Yep. I’m Stephanie. We’re gonna be friends now!”

She grins at him, a baby tooth missing, and Danny melts.

“Heck yeah. Tim!” He introduces himself for the first time in a long time.

Maybe with Stephanie around, he’ll finally use the name Tim? Maybe he’ll get used to it, finally!

[iannmin]

17:05 {by your side}

Idol!San x reader

You’re lying in the hospital bed, the sterile scent of antiseptic filling the air as the steady beeping of the monitor matches the rhythm of your racing heart. The soft hum of activity outside your room is a distant murmur, but inside, your world is shrinking to a single point of fear and anticipation. Your hands tremble as you rest them on your swollen belly, the weight of the moment pressing down on you. The contractions have started, each one a sharp reminder that you are on the brink of something monumental, something life-changing.

San is beside you, his hand wrapped around yours, strong and steady. His thumb gently strokes the back of your hand, a silent promise that he’s here, that he’s not going anywhere. But despite his presence, the fear claws at your chest, threatening to overwhelm you.

“What if I’m not ready?” you whisper, your voice breaking as tears well up in your eyes. “What if I can’t do this, San?”

He shifts closer, his free hand coming up to cup your face, his touch warm and reassuring. “You are ready,” he says softly, his eyes locked onto yours, filled with a love that makes your heart ache. “You’ve been ready for this since the day we found out. And you’re not alone, okay? I’m right here with you, every step of the way.”

His words are like a lifeline, pulling you back from the edge of panic. But still, the fear lingers, the enormity of what’s about to happen pressing down on you. “I’m scared,” you admit, your voice barely above a whisper. “I’ve never been this scared in my life.”

San leans in, his forehead resting gently against yours. You can feel his breath on your skin, warm and steady, grounding you in the moment. “I know,” he murmurs, his voice a soothing balm to your frayed nerves. “I’m scared too. But you’re the strongest person I know, and I believe in you. More than anything, I believe in us.”

His words hit you hard, a wave of emotion crashing over you as the tears spill over. You turn your face into his mountain-like shoulder, seeking comfort in the familiar scent of him, the solid presence of his body against yours. His arms wrap around you, holding you close as you let the tears come, releasing all the fear and doubt that have been building up inside.

“I’m here,” he whispers into your hair, his voice thick with emotion. “I’m right here, and I’m not going anywhere. We’re going to do this together, just like we’ve faced everything else. And when it’s over, we’re going to meet our little one. Our baby.”

The thought of it, of finally meeting the life that has been growing inside you, stirs something deep within you. A spark of hope, of determination. You pull back just enough to look into San’s eyes, finding strength in the love that shines there, in the unwavering belief he has in you.

“I love you,” you say, the words carrying the weight of all the emotions swirling inside you—love, fear, hope, and a fierce, protective determination.

San smiles, that dimple smile that has always been able to calm your storms. “I love you too,” he replies, his voice filled with so much tenderness that it makes your heart ache. “And I can’t wait to meet the little one who’s going to be just as incredible as you.”

Another contraction hits, this one stronger than the last, and you grip his hand tightly, drawing on the strength he offers. He doesn’t flinch, doesn’t let go, just holds on, anchoring you through the pain.

“We’ve got this,” he says, his voice steady, his eyes never leaving yours. “You’re not alone. We’ve got this, together.”

In that moment, as the pain ebbs and flows, you realize that he’s right. You’re not alone. You have him, and together, you can face anything. The fear is still there, but it’s no longer overwhelming.

And just as the contraction subsides, leaving you breathless, the nurse enters the room, her voice calm but urgent.

“It’s time,” she says, looking at you with a reassuring smile. “Are you ready?”

You turn to San, his hand still holding yours, his eyes full of love and encouragement. He nods, a small, steady smile on his lips.

“We’re ready,” he whispers, and you feel a rush of emotion as you squeeze his hand, drawing strength from his presence, from his love.

With a deep breath, you nod to the nurse, your heart pounding as the moment you’ve been waiting for finally arrives.

[kana-daydreams]

tranquility || zoro | fluff | 0.4k

°*:･ᰔzoro doesn’t mind you using him as your personal teddy bear.

tags: sleepwalker!gn!reader . zoro accepts his fate . no dialogue. can be read as platonic or romantic

op masterlist

Zoro sits—brown eyes glued shut, legs crossed and arms folded—in unrivalled concentration.

He subconsciously inhales a deep breath and exhales the same at the gentle breeze that sweeps past his skin. And feels the tight coils of his tense muscles unfurl, relaxing at the soothing harmony the ebb and flow of the waves creates against the ship’s hull and the vibrant calls of seagulls soaring high in the endless blue above him.

Although he genuinely enjoys the day-to-day banters and mirthful conversations with his friends, who are currently away, eagerly exploring and seeking the entertainment the new town they’d recently docked had to offer; Zoro can’t help but relish in this rare opportunity of gratifying tranquility. 

It’s refreshing. 

Welcomed. 

Him in his own company.

But his peaceful solitude, like always, is a fleeting moment when his ears catches the soft thudding of footsteps padding across the deck. 

Though…he doesn’t mind the intrusion.

Because, he doesn't mind being alone with you.

Unlike him, you didn’t stay behind to guard the ship, but to catch up on some much-needed sleep after your late-night watchman duties.

Your footsteps approach his direction in slow, almost faltering steps. And are accompanied by your familiar scent that wafts past his nose, one Zoro can only describe as pleasant and soothing to the soul. His soul.

Zoro’s eyes are still closed when your footsteps come to halt in front of him, and remain so when he feels your light weight plop itself down onto his lap.

He adjusts himself, uncrossing his arms and planting the palms of his hands beside him on the floor—his solemn and nonchalant countenance unwavering— as he allows you to snuggle closer to his chest. 

Your arms loop around his neck while your legs wrap, snug, around his torso. A voiceless yawn then departs from your lips, before your head falls languidly against one of his shoulders.

Your body adorned in a plain white Tee and a pyjama pants is soft against his. It practically presses flush against him allowing the rhythmic thump of your heartbeat to resonate against his chest, and he realises like the many times you’d clinged onto his figure during your sleepwalking episodes that it always seemed to change its rhythm to match his own.

It was surprisingly...nice.

This feeling he always looked forward to when you hugged him close to you. 

It soothed every fibre of his being.

© 2024 kana-daydreams

[springtyme]

𝐏𝐞𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐭 𝐓𝐞𝐚 ♡

Spencer Reid x afab!reader || Masterlist || Spencer playlist

Started my period today and cramps are kicking my butt. So, nataurally, I wrote some Spencer fluff to self sooth.

word count: 1.3k

warning/tags: Reader is on her period. Mention of cramps and cravings. Spencer is a sweetheart. Roommate au. Mutual pining. Fluff and comfort. This hasn't been proofread, so apoligies for any potential mistakes <3

You groan slightly as you clutch a cushion to your chest, trying to settle on the couch while a wave of discomfort washes over you, the familiar twinge in your lower abdomen, an annoying reminder that your period has arrived. You wish you could curl up under a blanket and disappear for a few days, which life doesn’t usually allow for, but it is Friday, and there is at least that little sense of relief that the weekend is here.   

You take a deep breath, feeling the cushion’s softness against you, and allow yourself to sink a little deeper into the couch, squeezing your eyes shut for a brief moment as another cramp ebbs and flows. Just as you’re about to let yourself wallow in self-pity, you hear the gentle sound of keys jingling and the front door creaking open. 

The slight shuffle of footsteps makes your heart flutter. You can almost picture him as he hangs up his jacket next to yours. It’s not as if you officially have designated places on the coat hanger, but you both seem to instinctively know where your things go: your coats to the right, his jackets to the left, closest to the door. It’s a tiny ritual, an unspoken symmetry: your shoes on the top shelf of the shoe rack, Spencer’s on the bottom. It’s comforting, a bit like the hot fudge brownie you’re currently craving—soft, warm, and reassuring. 

Spencer’s voice calls out your name, breaking the quietness.  It’s soft, laced with a gentle curiosity that always makes you smile, even when you’re feeling less than great. “Are you home?”

“Yeah, I’m on the couch,” you reply, trying to keep your voice upbeat, even though your abdomen protests with another cramp.

“Hey,” Spencer’s voice is warm, as he peaks around the corner, his expression shifting from curiosity to concern as he takes in your curled-up form. The way he looks at you—soft brown eyes wide with worry as his gaze lands on you makes your heart swell, even amid the discomfort. 

“Hey,” you reply, forcing a smile. You could use some comfort right about now, but you’re not sure how to express it.

He tilts his head, his brow furrowing slightly as he takes you in. “Are you okay?” 

“Yeah,” you reply, sitting up a little straighter and attempting to brush off your discomfort. 

Spencer’s brow still knit with concern as though your discomfort is a puzzle he wants to solve. “Are you sure? You seem... a bit off.”

You hesitate for a moment, debating whether to open up. But there’s something in his eyes, a soft understanding that makes you feel safe. “It’s just— you know, girl stuff,” you mumble, biting your lip. His expression softens, instantly changing from concern to something gentler—perhaps empathy, or just the simple desire to help.

“Do you need anything?” he asks, lingering by the doorway, his hands fidgeting with his messenger bag. The sight of him, warm and slightly disheveled from his day at work, makes your heart swell. He looks so sincere, and it’s hard not to smile.

Falling in love with your roommate was the furthest thing from your mind when you moved to D.C. a year ago and desperately looked far and wide for a place to live. But here you are, head over heels for the man who has a penchant for collecting obscure facts, making the best cup of coffee you’ve ever tasted, and hanging his coat on the left side of the coat hanger while yours resides on the right. 

He hates how the water makes his hands pruny and how the leftover food on the plates turns mushy when doing the dishes, which you have never really minded, but he loves vacuuming, which you on the other hand have never been a big fan of, and he tolerates the tedious routine of folding laundry just about as much as you do. So you wash the dishes and he dries off the plates and silverware you hand him, and on Sundays you fold your laundry together and every time you do so, you fall a little harder.

“Maybe some chocolate?” you admit, a hint of shyness lacing your words. It’s a little embarrassing, even though it shouldn’t be, but it feels good to be honest with him.

“Chocolate it is,” he replies, a bright smile breaking through his initial concern. You can see the shift in his mood, and it warms you to know your simple request has lifted some of the weight on his shoulders.

He disappears into the kitchen, and you hear the soft clattering of cabinets opening and closing as he rummages for something sweet for you as well as the familiar clinking of cups and the sound of water hitting the bottom of the kettle. The comforting rhythm of those sounds gives you a moment of solace, allowing you to let your body sink back into the couch, still cradling the cushion against your chest.

You close your eyes again, letting your mind wander as you anticipate the moment Spencer returns. You feel a little guilty for making him work for your comfort the second he comes back home from work, the drive from Quantico is long, but he was the one who asked. And the thought of him moving around the kitchen, searching for that little bit of happiness on your behalf, brings a flicker of warmth to your heart and you have every intention of sharing your chocolate with him.

A few minutes later, you hear his footsteps returning and he appears with your chocolate and a big cup of tea, the steam rising in delicate tendrils and the pleasant minty scent wafting through the air. “I read that peppermint tea can help with cramps. It’s supposed to be soothing.” He hands you the mug with delicate care, his fingers lingering on yours for just a moment longer than necessary. “Here you go,” he says, his tone casual, but you notice the way his eyes linger a little longer on you, taking in the moment. 

You take the cup from him, the warmth radiating through the ceramic and into your hands. You can’t help but feel a little bit like the luckiest person in the world as you settle back against the cushions. There’s something about the way he takes care of you—whether it’s tea for cramps or the endless supply of random trivia that somehow always manages to make you smile—that makes your heart ache in the most beautiful way.

“Thank you,” you whisper, feeling the tension in your shoulders begin to ease. He smiles back at you, the slight curve of his lips lighting up his face and making your heart race just a little faster.

“Of course,” he replies, settling down on the couch beside you, the cushions shifting slightly under his weight. He reaches for the remote, flicking through the options before finally deciding on an old classic—something light-hearted to distract you both.

You take a sip of the tea, letting the comforting warmth seep into your bones. As you do, Spencer settles on the couch next to you, his presence a comforting weight of safety and familiarity as you take the chocolate bar Spencer had brought from the kitchen, breaking it in two and handing the slightly bigger piece to Spencer. A little smile gracing your lips as you watch him take the piece from your hand, and even amid your discomfort, the gesture feels like a tiny moment of victory. The simple act of sharing, of being taken care of, fills your heart with a warmth that competes with the soothing tea in your hands.

“Thank you,” he murmurs. You steal a glance at him, the way his curls fall slightly over his forehead, the way he occasionally glances and smiles just for you—moments that seem small, yet mean everything.

[goose8791]

Child of the storm

Note: SPOILERS, if you have not read the books. If you know the ending of the lightning thief then this will be fine but if you haven't or don’t want to be spoiled for the ending of the show do not read this. ( I’m looking out for you pookie <3) 

pairing: luke castellan x Poseidon Fem!reader

warnings: Arguing, I want you but I can’t have you trope, Angst, kissing 

"Hello?" Her voice came through the phone, accompanied by the crackling of static in Luke's ear.

"It's Luke," he responded, pressing his fingers into his tired eyes. Silence met his ears. "The camp is falling apart," he admitted, frustration evident in his tone. "The cabins are at each other's throats, and I'm lost on what to do."

"I know," she sighed on the other end. "Luke, I'm already being dragged into this mess by my dad. He says my brother is on a quest for the master bolt," she explained, a hint of exasperation in her voice. "I didn't even know I had a brother until this morning," she added with a hiss. 

Luke's stomach twisted with anger “why are you calling me” The words escaped through her gritted teeth. After a prolonged silence on the line, she finally took a breath.

"Luke, I've been covering for you for months," she admitted, frustration evident in her voice. "And now, my brother—someone I didn't even know existed—seems to be entangled in your idiocy." There was a pause, and Luke remained silent.

"They think he stole it," she seethed, frustration boiling over. "And we both know that's far from the truth." After taking a breath, Luke listened intently. Over ten months had passed since their last conversation or encounter, and he found solace in just hearing her voice. He wanted to savour every syllable that left her mouth.

"Luke," she sighed, a sense of resignation in her tone. "I can't help you. I can't keep doing this. I can't cover for you anymore. You're on your own." As she moved to end the call, panic filled Luke's voice.

"Wait! Please, just listen to me," he pleaded desperately. "NO, Luke, you listen to me. You've gone too far. I was with you from the beginning, but stealing the master bolt... Luke, I've changed, and you haven't," she declared firmly, leaving a pause. 

"Meet me at the beach in Jersey," he almost whispered, his voice carrying a sense of urgency and vulnerability. "What?" she questioned, confusion in her tone. "Just do it," he snapped, frustration seeping into his tone. "Please," he added, the desperation in his voice seeping into her ears. She took a moment to consider, the static in the phone creating a deafening backdrop to their strained conversation. "Fine," she agreed, the decision made after a brief pause, and then the line went silent on Luke's end.

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Luke stands on the beach, the gritty sand slipping between his toes as he clutches his shoes in his hands. His gaze remains fixed on the expansive canvas of the ocean, its vastness both humbling and daunting. In the early evening, the ocean undergoes a captivating transformation, evolving into a symphony of rhythmic undulations.

As Luke shifts nervously on his feet, the subdued hues of the setting sun cast a gentle glow upon the water, bestowing an ethereal quality to the scene. The waves, reminiscent of graceful dancers, curl over in a serene ballet, each motion leaving a transient mark on the water's surface.

However, an undercurrent of change is visible. The ocean begins to deepen, the light blues of the day contorting into darker shades of black and navy. The waves, once a tranquil ballet, now adopt a more assertive stance, punching the shore with newfound vigour. Luke feels the shift in the air, the atmosphere charged with an unspoken intensity.

He stands there, caught between the ebb and flow of the changing tides, feeling the cool breeze play with his hair. The salt from the sea hangs in the air, sticking to his lashes. Above him, grey clouds gather, a subtle harbinger of the impending change. As if responding to some unseen force, the sea, with a sudden abruptness, flattens.

Amidst the quiet tension, her arrival becomes a beacon of contrasting serenity. Her hair, the first thing that catches his eye, emerges from the blues—sleek and shining like the ocean itself, capturing the remaining light. With each step, her shoulders appear, water cascading from the light armour she wears. Long strands of her hair, wrapped around her index finger, release droplets as she drains the water from it. The white foam from the now-subdued waves pools at her boots as she makes her way up the beach. 

Once her foot leaves the water, the ocean, as if resentful of her departure, reverts to its rageful intent, thrashing and spitting with renewed fervour. Undeterred, she walks up the beach, her head bowed slightly, and her hair moved to sit over her shoulder. Luke's eyes follow her, never leaving her figure as she almost struts up to him. 

“Look at you," he states, his gaze captivated by the armour that exudes the timeless elegance of Ancient Greek craftsmanship. Her breastplate, a gleaming testament forged from bronze, hosts intricate engravings portraying swirling waves and mythical sea creatures. The craftsmanship, exquisite in every detail, captures the fluidity of the ocean's dance with unparalleled artistry. Adorning her shoulders, the epaulettes, fashioned to resemble the majestic fins of a sea serpent, add an ethereal touch to the ensemble.

Her eyes, a reflection of the depths of her experiences, remain locked onto his. She's not the same 18-year-old girl who left camp a year ago, harbouring resentment toward the gods and grappling with self-doubt. She's transformed into a soldier for her father, and the weight of her newfound strength and purpose makes him feel almost small in her presence. 

"You are really your fathers daughter now, aren't you” he declares, his tone carrying a mixture of disbelief and frustration. She meets his gaze with unwavering intensity "I've changed, Luke," she retorts, her voice firm. "I'm not that naive girl who once questioned everything. I've seen the power, the responsibility that comes with being a part of this world." He scoffs, a bitter edge to his words, crossing his arms over his chest. "Responsibility? Do you hear yourself, More like blind servitude.You've become a pawn in their games, a soldier for a cause that doesn't care about you.”

Her eyes narrow, a spark of defiance igniting within her. "You're still clinging to that rebellious dream of a new age," she counters. “Do you hear yourself?” she mocks. His frustration mounts, and he takes a step closer, the distance between them narrowing. "What happened to forging our own path?” he states with a slight hiss, his eyes looking down onto her examining her face with his brown eyes “free from their whims?” he adds in an almost whisper, pushing back a strand of dark hair behind her ear, she moves her face away from his hand “You've abandoned that for a role that has you dancing to their tune." Luke continues, She squares her shoulders, a steely resolve in her demeanour. "I've embraced my heritage, Luke. I've found purpose and strength in it. Maybe it's time you stop fighting against it and see that." She steps back from him, and he goes to move after her, almost magnetised to her presents, but her eyes worn him. 

"If you wanted to meet me here just to argue, then I'm going because I can't—" Her words are cut short, interrupted by Luke as he reaches out, gently catching her hand. "Because I can't bear the thought of losing you again," he admits, his voice carrying a blend of vulnerability and longing.

His gaze searches hers for a trace of understanding. "We used to dream of a life together," he continues, his thumb gently tracing circles on the back of her hand. "I miss that, miss us. And if this is the only way I get to be near you, even if it means arguing, then I'll take it. Because not having you in my life feels like an endless storm." he admits his eyes burning through hers. 

She looks back at him, a realisation dawning in her eyes as if she's just understood the depth of what love truly means. In that moment, she sees everything reflected in his gaze — the longing, the vulnerability, the unwavering devotion. His hands holding hers speak volumes, and the words that escape his lips carry the weight of a love that has weathered storms.

To him, she is everything — a constellation in the vast expanse of his universe. She can feel it in the warmth of his hands, hear it in the soft timbre of his voice. He has been the constant, the anchor in the tumultuous sea of their shared existence.

Yet, as she stands there, she recognizes that love is a complex tapestry, woven with threads of both joy and pain. He was her sun, a source of warmth and brightness, but the sea called to her, and she found herself in its depths and storms. The day she turned eighteen and was claimed by her father, the sea embraced her, and she felt a sense of belonging she had long yearned for. She learned to shine not only for him but also for herself, finding her identity in the ebb and flow of the waves.

"I can lose everything but not you… oh gods, not you," he almost says to himself, his words carried away by the wind and the sound of the waves. Her ears barely catch the sentiment, but her body reacts before her brain can intervene. Her arm slings around his neck, and her lips crash into his. In that moment, the world around them fades into the background.

His hands find her waist, pulling her closer as they share a desperate and breathless kiss. It's a collision of emotions, a manifestation of the tangled feelings that have lingered between them. When they finally break apart, he places his forehead against hers and closes his eyes.

"You fix this mess... with the master bolt, with my father and Zeus… and then maybe we could have this," she almost whispers, her voice a tender murmur against the backdrop of the ocean's symphony. "We could have us."

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[meowshark12]

i know it won't work (rc)(4)

series summary: you're best friends with topper, kelce, and rafe. it has never bothered you to see them with other girls, knowing that they usually only have flings, but, when rafe gets what appears to be a girlfriend, how does this change things?

(not canon)rafe x kook!reader, original characters

chapter 4 summary: day on the boat. another party. jealousy. do our protagonists finally become aware??

warnings: some violence kinda not really graphic tho

1 2 3 4

6.2k words OOPS SORRY

not very proofread toward the bottom. hope you like it though.

chapter 4: the druthers

You step on to the boat, the familiar feeling of the ebb and flow of the waves already lulling you into a false sense of comfort. You're greeted by Rafe with a "Hey," and a small smile and by Amber with a look that you can't exactly decipher. You ignore her, but you don't miss how his eyes dart away from you after his glance lingers for a second too long.

"Hey guys!! Who wants a drink?" Kelce announces as he is the last one to step foot on the boat. He always has known how to break the tension quite well. The awkwardness is forgotten as you all greet Kelce and begin to make yourselves comfortable on the familiar yacht you have embarked. You give Kelce a quick hug and he hands you your favorite drink, already prepared for you.

Your boys were always attentive to you, Stella, and Macey. Always remembering your favorite drinks, knowing the most obscure things about you (your obsession with your favorite animal, Macey's lego collection, and why Stella loved crab rangoons so much), and making sure to be friendly with and respected by your parents. Though none of you had ever pursued any of the others, you knew there had to be small crushes that each person had but chose to bury.

Macey was the most obvious about it, pining after Topper without a care in the world. She would always say it was a joke, but, when he started dating Sarah, she was more than joking with how upset she was. Topper liked the attention and would probably get with her if she made the first move, and only if there would be no consequences.

Everyone loves Stella. She's the most beautiful and down to earth girl. She was the mediator of your friend group, almost impossible not to love her. Stella had never mentioned it, but you could tell that she liked the attention that Kelce gave her. He liked her too (obviously), though he tried to hide the blush that creeped up his neck when she gave him various compliments or when her touch lingered too long.

Rafe was always the toughest to crack. Though he took the most comfort in you, telling you about his family and other things that he didn't even tell the boys, it was always hard to tell what Rafe was thinking.

You had never had a favorite, though you seemed to always gravitate more toward Rafe. Maybe it was something about his looks, his captivating blue eyes and effortless handsomeness drawing you in. Or maybe it was the way he seemed to need you sometimes, not opening up to anyone but you, calling you whenever he just needed someone to talk to. But you felt like you treated all the boys equally.

None of the boys had ever seemed to crush on you.

This is not to say you aren't enchantingly beautiful. The boys are your best friends, but they were first pulled in by your beauty and charming personality. The main reason Rafe and Kelce wanted Topper to bring you (and your friends) along was because they wanted to know why such a gorgeous girl wanted to hang around Topper. But, you had never noticed anyone reacting to you the way they did to others. Although this didn't hurt your feelings. You were glad to have such good friends, and it wasn't like you felt that you were missing something.

Last summer, the Druthers was your group's favorite spot to hangout during the hot summer days where you found yourselves in need of some entertainment. Kelce would always suggest taking a dip in your pool (which you had all done millions of times before), but Rafe had managed to save you from hosting many times by coaxing Kelce onto the Druthers with a beer in hand and the promise of free beer and food all day long.

Since Ward was away for most of last summer, you spent most of your time on that boat, laying out, swimming, drinking, napping, dancing, partying, etc. You name it, it probably happened on that boat.

Your favorite memory of the Druthers was the day it started storming out of nowhere. Nobody had checked the weather, anticipating that the day would be as sunny as it was long. But, the 6 of you were mid-dip in the water when the storm clouds on the horizon began rolling in faster than you had thought possible.

Before you knew it, the sky was black and it was pouring down rain right on you and your friends who were still in the water.

Instead of getting out, you began laughing and floated on your back, letting the rain water cascade over your body to disappear in the water beneath you. Soon after, your other friends joined you, all enjoying the rain, until the thunder struck.

When you heard the thunder, the six of you raced back to the boat (Kelce won) and hurried to get under the cover.

Your bag was the only one left out on the deck and your belongings were already soaked. You decide to enjoy the feeling of the rain, since your dry clothes and towel were already wet and there was no saving them, but Rafe comes over to you after a few minutes and drags you to the covered portion of the yacht.

"What the hell were you doing out there??" he asks bewildered. Water hangs on to his features, tracing lines over the contours of his face.

"Sorry! All my stuff was wet and I wouldn't have a towel, so I figured I would appreciate the rain! We haven't gotten rain all summer." you explain, still dripping wet and clad in your swimsuit, feeling self conscious as those around you are already covered by their towels. You cross your arms around yourself.

"Oh my god, yn. You're something else..." he trails off, laughing slightly and pinching the bridge of his nose before he speaks again. "You know Rose stocks this thing with like a million towels, right?" he pauses, then says, "c'mon, I'll get you one"

You follow behind him down the hallway, the boat rocking and causing your wet feet to slip slightly on the tile floor. Rafe stops in front of a closet, and, sure enough, it was full to the brim with expensive, monogrammed towels. He hands you one.

"Thank you," you say, looking up at him. "I'm sorry... you really didn't have to come get me. I would've been fine and come in eventually." you begin to explain while wrapping the towel around your shaking shoulders.

"It's fine, yn..." he begins, "I just didn't want you to freeze to death, or slip and fall and hit your head... or... I don't know, I was just worried about you and I don't want to be the one in charge if something bad happens to you." he finishes, looking somewhat distraught as he looks back into your eyes.

"Rafe." you say, and he couldn't be more attentive if he tried, "I promise, I would've been fine. I was on my way back in when you came to get me anyway." you lie with a smile. At this, he nods and looks into your eyes, the light reflecting just right to make them hold onto his attention more than ever before. You're basically having a staring contest at this point, for nobody has spoken in almost a minute.

His gaze trails over the rest of your face, and he notices that you're still trembling and your lips are a shade of purple.

"Okay, fine. Just come with me" he finally says, and you follow him down to one of the bedrooms on the boat. The bedroom was clearly his, resembling the one he had at Tanneyhill quite well and the pictures on the wall were a dead giveaway. He goes into a drawer and pulls out a pair of gray sweatpants, a pair of socks, and an old UNC hoodie, one that you haven't seen since the first few times you met Rafe. "Change into this."

"Rafe, it's fine." you protest, but he cuts you off.

"No, yn." he shoves the clothes into your arms. "Your clothes are soaked and I can't have you getting hypothermia on me. Just change and come upstairs." He says, and with that he leaves the room.

After you change, you head back up to where your friends are gathered, still drinking and carrying on. The rain clearly did not affect their high spirits.

"There you are!" says Stella. "Nice outfit. We are trying to get the tv to work but Rafe must be poor or something and his Netflix won't work out here." she explains, making a jab at Rafe.

"Hey, hey, okay give me the remote and I'll get it to work." Rafe comes to his own defense and the rest of you laugh.

You sit down next to Kelce, and Topper comes over to you with a drink in each hand, one for you of course. You quietly thank him before he leaves to sit in a chair, and you begin listening in on the conversation that Stella, Macey, and Kelce are having ('is water wet?' like Kelce starts it bc you were just rained on in water and he's like 'but does that mean the water is now wet' and the girls are like 'ur dumb').

You're sat on the large couch with Kelce, while Stella and Macey share a smaller one. Topper is in a chair across from the girls. Rafe stands in front of you all, trying to fix the tv. As the conversation dies down, the focus is turned to Rafe.

He is clearly not making any progress, as he turns the tv off and puts the remote on the table, announcing "we don't talk enough, lets not watch tv and just talk to each other for once!" and he sits next to you on the couch.

The events of today are already not beginning to mirror your favorite day on the Druthers.

For one thing, there are seven of you. An odd number, always leaving someone out. For another thing, Rafe was totally preoccupied by Amber, leaving the five of you to wonder why you were on his boat in the first place.

The five of you sat on the deck, lounging and each of you with a drink in your hand. Rafe and Amber were inside, doing God only knows what.

You lay sprawled out, your legs over Toppers lap as he sat up beside you. Kelce mirrored Topper on your other side, his sunglasses on and arms on either side of the boat behind him. Stella was engrossed in her book and her vodka cran, and Macey sat next to Topper with her legs out on a table, nursing her beer. The five of you were quiet, enjoying each others company, yet still somehow on edge because of the presence of a plus-one.

Almost an hour passes before one of you speaks.

"Why aren't we swimming?" Topper says after finishing his third beer. Your ears perk up at this, excited at the idea of getting into the water.

"I'm down," Kelce says, to which you all agree. By the time you all are ready to get in the water, Rafe and Amber appear out of thin air, ready to swim right along side you.

Rafe is on your right, Amber to his right, as you are preparing to jump off the boat.

"Going swimming without me?" he teases, but you aren't in the mood for his antics right now.

"Didn't think you'd ever come back outside," you say, and you follow your words with a swift dive under the surface of the cool water beneath you.

The rest of your friends (Topper, Kelce, and your girls) jump in after you, not totally sure what you had responded to Rafe, but excited to swim nonetheless.

You look up to see Rafe and Amber staring at you from the deck, but you begin to float on your back before you can find it in you to care that she's here. The five of you swim around for a few minutes before they coming wading over to you.

"Oh, look who decided to join us," Macey mumbles to nobody in particular. You stifle a laugh, not wanting to draw attention to yourselves.

The seven of you swim for a while with no issues, other than Amber clinging to Rafe like she had never been in water higher than her knees. Stella is the first to go back on to the boat after about 30 minutes, and the rest of you follow.

You are on the deck, drying off, when you hear Amber complain. "Rafey, my shirt is all wet, I can't wear this!!" she cries to Rafe. The nickname is new.

You shoot a look to your friends. "Rafey?" you mouth to Macey. She rolls her eyes.

Rafe looks at you and your friends before he looks back to her.

"Why don't you just wear your bathing suit top for a while? We aren't leaving any time soon," he suggests, knowing that the five of you (just the boys to his face) would make fun of him endlessly for giving a girl his clothes.

"Ugh, no. I'm not doing that. I don't do my 10-step skincare routine just to get sunburnt." she replies, which you had to admit was a somewhat valid point. But, as she holds her shirt in her had, you notice that it is mostly dry.

"Fine," Rafe says, "follow me," and they go upstairs.

When they return, Amber is wearing Rafe's UNC sweatshirt.

--

While on the boat together, the four of you were told by Topper that there would be a boneyard party tonight. You all agreed to have Topper drive there in his Jeep, bringing you five.

So, you and your girls got together at Stella's house after to get ready and pregame (though, to be honest, you were still buzzed from earlier).

Stella let you borrow a top of hers, a pretty, lacey top that was the perfect color on your skin tone and fit you like a glove, while you wore a pair of jean shorts and sandals.

The three of you were buzzing with excitement. Boneyard parties included all sides of the island, including hot pogues and hot tourons. You all needed to branch out sometimes, which was why the boneyard parties (usually only around once or twice a summer) were the best.

It was around 9pm when Macey gets a call from Topper, assuming they are on their way. She picks it up.

"Hey, you on your way?" she asks, though the question was rather rhetorical.

"...about that..." Topper trails, one hand on the wheel, the other holding his phone. Macey puts the call on speaker.

"what the fuck do you mean 'about that' Top? You're on your way, aren't you?" she asks, still thinking he's joking.

"So basically... well, I guess that you could say," he begins again before he is interrupted by another voice.

"Is that yn?" the voice says, "Give me the phone" and before you know it, you were talking to Rafe.

"YN! Hey, so, Top wanted to give me and Amber a ride, so there's no more room in the car with the four of us, so you and Stels and Mace are gonna have to find another way there, kay?" he says in a drunken ramble and you hear Topper protest on the other end. The three of you were seething.

"Rafe. Give the phone back to Topper." Macey says.

"Kay, don't be mad, see you later bye" he finishes, clearly happy with how he delivered the news.

"Topper what the fuck is wrong with you??" Macey nearly yells.

As Topper begins to defend himself, you pull out your phone to start texting other people to give you a ride. Your phone hovers over the name, but you find yourself mad enough at the boys that you quickly type out a message and hit send anyway.

Before you know it, you're sat in the passenger seat of John Townsends Audi convertible on your way to the boneyard. Your girls are behind you in the backseat, and you are nearly there.

"Thanks again for taking us," you say to John with a small smile. He pulls in to the parking lot of the beach. He looks over at you.

"Anytime." He says and looks into your eyes. His gaze lingers over your face.

"Ok ladies let's go!" Macey announces, clearly drunk enough to ruin a moment.

The four of you exit the car, you and John following behind Stella and Macey, close enough to see them, but far enough that you can't hear a word they're saying.

"I hope you know, I kinda missed you." John says as you reach the edge of the beach. He takes your hand.

"Only kinda??" you say, and the two of you laugh lightly. He shakes his head at your joke, and you continue through the silence that settles. "I hope you know that my friends will lose their minds if they see us together," you say, but you let him take your hand anyway.

"I hope you know that I don't really care what they think," he whispers and kisses you on the hand before leading you into the boneyard party.

Stella and Macey are already waiting for you with a beer from the keg in their hands. They pull you out of John's grasp, but it wasn't missed by anyone that the two of you came in together.

John walks over to his friends, who greet him with a pat on the back. You are pulled over to yours. Kelce, Topper, Rafe, and Amber stand together.

"What the fuck." Kelce is the first to speak. You're not as mad at Kelce, so you just give him a small shrug.

"No really, yn, what the fuck?" Topper asks.

"Oh I'm sorry, I thought I was supposed to get another ride?" you say incredulously, pretending you don't know what is wrong with your actions.

"Not with that guy, yn." Topper responds. He looks between Rafe and Kelce. Kelce has a look of betrayal on his face, while Rafe has a look of pure hatred.

"I don't understand, John is like super nice!" Amber comes to your defense.

"You can date him then, Amber." Topper bites back, staring at you.

You let there be a few seconds of silence before speaking again.

"So was I just supposed to not come to the party then?" You ask, wondering what the right option was. Topper rolls his eyes and pulls you aside from the group, who begin to interrogate Stella and Macey about how long 'this' has been rekindled.

"Yn." Topper says.

"What, Top?" you ask, "I really don't understand what's so wrong about him taking us here because you wouldn't! It's not like he was my first choice or anything."

"Yn, you could've had anyone on our side of the island come and pick you up and you chose him, of all people?" he responds.

"Top, you were supposed to pick me up. But you didn't. So I texted him. This is not totally my fault. If you wouldn't have picked up Rafe and Amber instead of us..." he interrupts you.

"Rafe begged us for a ride!! He wanted us to take him and Amber and leave early so we could leave her here." Topper blurts out, leaving you more than confused.

"What?" you begin to ask but are interrupted by Stella.

"Macey just threw up." She says, looking between you and Topper. The two of you point at each other at the same time, as if to say 'not my job!' Topper rolls his eyes and walks over to where Macey is sat on a log, hunched over.

When you arrive, trailing behind Topper, you see Rafe and Kelce on either side of Macey to support her as she stays hunched. Kelce is talking to her, while Rafe tries (and fails) to tie her hair out of her face. Amber is nowhere to be found.

"We've got it from here, boys." Stella says to Rafe and Kelce. You walk around the log on the side Rafe is sat on. He looks up at you and gives you a look that is rather hard to read, when you offer him your hand to help him up. He takes your hand and you help him, but you weren't fully prepared for his weight (and drunkeness) and he fell into you. You stop his momentum with a hand on his chest, still holding his hand in your other one.

"Sorry," he says meekly, your hands still together. You laugh it off and take Rafe's seat, and Stella takes Kelce's. The boys walk away, except Topper.

"Hi, Macey girl" you begin, using the nickname and singsongy voice you only use when she's in need of some support. "You doing ok?" you ask, genuinely concerned because, if Stella came over to you, that meant it was serious.

She mumbles something that you don't quite catch, when Topper says that he will just take her home.

"You don't have to do that, Top," you say, about to offer to drive her when you realize you have no car to transport her in.

"Yeah, Topper, I'm ok." Macey says, and there is a silence that follows. That is, until Macey throws up again right in front of Topper.

"I'm gonna take you home." Topper says finally.

"I'll go with you," Stella offers, "I'll ride in the back with her so she doesn't throw up."

"I might as well go too then, it's gonna be no fun without you guys here." You add.

"No, yn, you should stay with Kelce and Rafe. You're the most sober here, you should keep an eye on them. I'll come and get you guys after I bring Mace and Stella home." Topper says, already getting up with Macey and pulling his keys out of his pocket before you can object.

They walk away and, before you know it, the Jeep is gone down the road. You make your way over to the fire, hoping to find some semblance of your friends. You run into John, who has clearly had more to drink than when he brought you here, since he is stumbling all over you and trying to get you to dance with him. You promise him a dance another time, and set out further on your way.

You finally find Kelce after around 15 minutes of searching. He's at the keg, and you let out a sigh of relief. But you still don't know where Rafe is.

"Hey. They took Macey home, and Topper will be back for us later." you say, looking around for Rafe as you do.

"Okay," Kelce begins, "did Stella go too then?" he asks, his question hinting at a crush that Kelce might have on a certain someone.

You raise an eyebrow at him. "Yes... she went too." you pause, seeing that he has accepted it. You move on, "Where's Rafe?" you say, finally getting to your point.

Now, it's Kelce's turn to raise an eyebrow. "Why do you ask?" he says, voice obviously hinting at something.

"What do you even mean? I just wanted to know where he is, Topper told me to keep an eye on you two because you're apparently super hammered." You say.

"Oh, well, I don't know, it just seems to me like you might have a little crush on Rafe." he says, wiggling his eyebrows.

"What??" you ask, "Kelce you're crazy, Rafe's my best friend, just like you and Topper."

"He might be your best friend, but it's not just like me and Topper, that's for sure." He says finally.

"Oh my god, you really are hammered." you say. "Where was the last place you saw him? Topper will be here to pick us up soon."

"Last I saw he was making out with Amber behind that tree." Kelce says, searching you for a reaction. When he doesn't get one, he continues, "Ok fine I saw him go out behind the dunes. but don't be too long getting him because I want to go home"

You ignore the last part, setting out to go behind the dune. When you pass Amber on her way back, all she says to you is, "Good luck, he told me he didn't want to talk."

And it seemed like good luck was what you had. You sat down next to Rafe, and he put his forehead straight onto your shoulder. You reach your hand up to rest on his head, and you lean your head onto his. You slowly feel your arm dampen, but you ignore the tears because that seems like what Rafe would want you to do. You couldn't tell if he was drunk and emotional, or just emotional.

You let a minute go by before you speak. "You wanna talk about it?" you ask, not expecting an answer.

"Not really," he mumbles into your shoulder.

"Okay," you say back. You wait another minute before speaking again. His head has turned to look out at the water. You turn to him before you say, "If you don't want to talk now, we don't have to. But Kelce wanted me to get you quick because he wants to go home. Is that ok?" you say, gauging his response to get an insight into how he is really feeling.

He laughs, but it doesn't reach his eyes like it usually would. "Yeah, that's fine." He says. Neither of you move. He finally lifts his head off your shoulder and stands up, offering you his hand. You take it, and he pulls you up without anyone falling onto anyone else. He doesn't drop your hand.

You lead him to find Kelce, where you two separate to wrangle him and both are then able to get him into the front seat of Topper's Jeep.

"What took you so long?" Topper asks.

"Just couldn't find these freaks, and then, once I did, Kelce tried to run away and drink even more." You say, covering Rafe's tracks. "You're babysitting him tonight, by the way." You say to Topper.

"That's fine, we are all staying at your house anyway." he mentions without even so much as a look in the mirror at you.

"What?!" you say.

"Your parents aren't home, and we have two, maybe three, drunk people who need help. Mine are home and they hate when we come home drunk."

"Fine, as long as you're taking care of Kelce." You say.

He agrees. You turn to look at Rafe, who is looking out the window of the car. You tap his hand that is on the seat next to you. He looks and gives you a small smile before looking back out the window.

You arrive to your house, where Topper pulls in the driveway. Topper is able to get Kelce out of the car and into the house before either you or Rafe move an inch.

"You wanna go in?" you ask. He doesn't move, but you know he heard you.

"Not really," he says honestly, turning to face you.

"Let's go in." you say, grabbing his hands together. "We can order pizza and watch Revenge of the Sith if you want?" you suggest, throwing out his favorite movie and his favorite meal to cheer him up at least a little bit.

"...okay, if you insist." he says with a hint of a smile on his face, and he follows you out of the car and inside.

You order the pizza when you get inside after you check on both Macey (who is sound asleep in your guest room) and Kelce (who is laying restlessly in your brother's bed asking Topper where Stella is). You come back to the living room where you see Stella sitting on one of your couches talking to Rafe, and you send her up to Kelce. There is quiet as you watch her ascend the stairs. You clear your throat and turn to Rafe, who is sat on the other couch.

"I ordered the pizza, it should be here soon." you say, trying to break the ice. He looks at you in acknowledgement and then turns back to his phone.

You come to stand in front of him, the backs of your legs touching the coffee table that is centered in the room, and the front of your knees just barely brushing the inside of his thighs. You sit down on the table, something your mother would reprimand you for, and Rafe puts his phone down.

He avoids your gaze. "You know I'm gonna ask you what's wrong, right?" you say, obviously.

"I know," he says, and he looks down, "I was just kinda waiting to see if you would forget about it."

"I wasn't gonna forget about it, you know that." you say honestly, looking at him as he finally meets your eyes. His blue eyes shine with the hint of a tear forming, and you admire how he still manages to look good even after he has cried.

He sighs, wiping under his eyes before a tear can escape. "Its just that..." he pauses, and your eyes prompt him to continue with his sentence, "tomorrow is the anniversary of the day my mom died, and Ward and Rose are leaving to go to the Bahamas." he finishes.

"Oh wow, Rafe, I didn't realize, I'm so sorry." you say, and that's all you can really manage to get out. You put your hand on his leg.

"Its really ok," he tries to brush the feelings off, "I just thought my dad still cared about her a little bit, even though he's with Rose now I thought he would still think about her sometimes or even know the day she passed away." he pauses his ramble, "It just still hurts a lot more than I thought it would, you know?" he says finally, sitting up and moving toward the edge of the couch, his elbows resting on his knees. Your legs are nearly intertwined, your hand still on his leg.

"It's definitely not 'okay', Rafe. This is a big deal. How you feel is a big deal... to me especially. I'm so sorry that it seems like Ward doesn't care." You pause, noticing that his hand is resting on his leg close enough that his fingers brush both your hand and your leg that is in between his. "...I promise you that this is important, and it's more than okay that you are still grieving her. She was so amazing. I have no idea what it's like, and I'm so sorry that you have to know."

"Thanks, yn" he says, but you know your words aren't going to heal his pain completely. You smile at him. He grabs your hands and gives them three tight squeezes when the doorbell rings.

"I'll get it, it's probably just the pizza," you look through the peephole of your front door, and you see John, looking out of breath and leaning on your doorframe.

You open the door, "Oh, hey, John," you say, loud enough for Rafe to hear and hopefully come over to the door. "What are you doing here?"

"I just needed to make sure you got home okay," he slurs, running a hand through his hair. He looks past you into your house and you close the door a little bit.

"Oh, yeah, all good, thanks for checking." you say, confused how he got here since his car wasn't in your driveway.

"Yeah of course... I ran here once I noticed you were gone. I just needed you to be safe." he explains, getting closer to you and stumbling as you back away slightly.

"Yep, all good here." you begin to tell him goodbye when he interrupts.

"Is that Topper's car?" he asks, his words blending together, and you nod. "...oh yeah, I was just thinking that's weird because you asked me to give you a ride because you didn't want to ride with Topper, and now he's here..."

"...well Topper is still my best friend, I couldn't be mad at him for too long, plus we worked everything out." you start, and you finish by saying, "so, thanks for checking in, I really appreciate it, but we are all good!"

"yeah of course, so what are you up to now?" he begins, looking into the house behind you again.

"Hey what's taking so long?" Rafe comes up to you, and his confidence falters slightly when he sees John. "What is he doing here?"

"He was just leaving, Rafe. He just wanted to check in on us and make sure everyone was safe." you explain, never having seen the two boys interact. All you knew was that Rafe hated him, and John wasn't so fond of Rafe either.

"Yeah just wanted to make sure my girl was okay, you know?" John says, and Rafe steps forward, blocking you from sight due to his tall and broad stature.

"Yeah, she's fine. So, why don't you get going now, huh?" Rafe says, clearly trying to hold back the anger that was sparked in him by the comment that John made about you being 'his girl'. If anything you were Stella's girl, Macey's girl, Your Boys' girl, Rafe's girl, most definitely not John Townsend's girl.

"I don't know... yn was just about to invite me in to stay for a while, said she missed me" John lies, drunkenly trying to get a rise out of Rafe. And whether it was Rafe's emotions talking, or whether Rafe just really wanted to punch John Townsend in his stupid pretty-boy face, one punch was thrown, and then suddenly the boys are fighting on your front porch.

You tried to get them to stop, but it was no use. The pizza guy pulls into the driveway a minute or so later, and Rafe stops beating on poor John's pretty face. John stands and gives Rafe one final shove before walking away. "Bye, yn, text me if you're ever tired of these losers." he says, and with that, he was gone. Rafe is still breathing heavily. You tip the pizza guy and he leaves very soon after his arrival.

"Come on, let's get you cleaned up." you say, hoping that Rafe will follow you inside. He waits until John is out of sight, then he does, you place the pizza box on the counter, and you begin rummaging through your cabinets for your first aid supplies.

"Sit," you command, once you've found the supplies. He sits, and, even sitting, he is almost eye level with you. You begin to clean one of the wounds he has on his face, the one that already seems to be swelling.

"You didn't have to do that," you say after a few minutes go by.

"I know." he responds.

"I hate it when you fight," you say.

"I know." he responds.

"This bruise looks like it's gonna hurt pretty bad tomorrow," you begin.

"You should see the other guy." he says and tries to crack a small smile.

You smile sadly, thinking about the handful of other times you'd had to patch Rafe up. "I remember the first time I ever had to do this," you begin to reminisce, "you had gotten into a fight with someone in school about something in ninth grade gym class, and then they sent you to the nurse before you could go to the principal's" you say, laughing lightly at the memory, and you finish cleaning the cut near his eye.

He smiles, "you were in the nurse for a migraine, and you told me she was out for a little but that you could try your best to help me." You pick up his hand, cleaning the cuts on his knuckles from 'the other guy'

"yeah, that was when I was convinced I was gonna be a nurse, so I was determined to patch up your skinned elbow really well so maybe the nurse would hire me." you say, laughing at the memory as you finish putting a bandage on his knuckles. "I shouldn't keep having to do this," you joke, but you don't drop his hand.

"You should stop making me get in fights over you," he retorts quietly without thinking, looking up at you and hoping you didn't realize what he said.

"You should stop getting in fights... wait, over me?" you say, perplexed. He looks away, before he gets up from the chair and clears his throat.

"Let's put the pizza in the fridge, if we aren't gonna eat any now?" he says while packing up the pizza into a bag.

"Why did you say that?" you ask, still frozen in place.

"Say what? We should put this pizza away if we aren't gonna eat it." he says, acting oblivious.

"No, Rafe, the other thing." you say, expecting an answer.

"We can just talk about it later. It's nothing." he says, and he finishes packing up the pizza and puts it in the fridge.

"Really?" you say, now leaning on the counter.

"Yes, really, yn." he responds, walking past you and giving you a small squeeze on the shoulder before heading upstairs and leaving you by yourself in the kitchen.

"Goodnight, yn" he says quietly as he leaves.

"...goodnight." you say, still confused.

a/n sorry started school this week forgot to post. hope you enjoy, not [proofread!

🏷️list: @flvredcas @rafesno1bae @kiiyomei @silkylovey @girlwedontcare @sunny1616 @asterizee @pillowprincess4him @patychieffi @rafeslittleangel @anightlikethisss @drewsdirtyslut @mattyskies @theyluvmesblog @gothamgirl2024 @ujws5 @kmhbygss @kaiparkerwifes

[mitfloya]

𝐅𝐑𝐀𝐆𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐌𝐄𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒: 𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐘 𝐑𝐄𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐈𝐒𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄

pairings. Yandere Rafayel x gn!reader

wc. 2k

synopsis. You find yourself lost searching for answers that slip through your grasp. There is a mysterious force that lures you back to the vast depths of the sea, a pull that you can't quite comprehend, a strange connection. It haunts your thoughts, you wanted to find out why does your soul keeps guiding you to ocean.

Only to find the truth that you wish to never uncover.

warnings. The following content contains elements of obsessive behavior, yandere thoughts, stalking, possessive behavior, and may include poorly written narratives. Reader is referred to as 'you'. Proceed with caution, as this writing may be unsettling or uncomfortable for some individuals.

a/n. Hiii, I'm back from the dead, I hope it's good (be gentle with me this is my first fic I've created) or evoke some kind of emotions, whatever it may be. I may have gone a little overboard with everything. This will be a small series, maybe there will be 3 parts or up to 5 parts, depends on my mood. Also, this is my thank you gift for the celebration of hitting another milestone on my c.ai acc ♡

The waves, like gentle giants, rolled towards the shore, their white foamy crests crashing against the rocks with a resounding roar. The sound echoed in your ears. With each surge, the water created intricate patterns, as if painting an ever-changing masterpiece upon the canvas of the beach.

Some crashed against the rocks with a powerful force, while others gently caressed the sand, their touch as gentle as a lover's whisper. 

Standing there, your feet were gently lapped by the waves near the shore, your eyes fixated on the vast expanse of the sea, you felt an inexplicable pull, as if there was a profound bond between you and the ocean.

Yet, you couldn't quite comprehend why.

Lost in contemplation, you imagined how the cool waters of the sea would embrace you, enveloping you in their refreshing embrace. It was in these moments that you found solace and tranquility in the presence of nature.

The ebb and flow of the waves became a soothing rhythm that seemed to wash away any worries or troubles that burdened your mind.

Yet, amidst the serenity, there was a sense of familiarity, as if there were fragments of a forgotten memory lurking within your subconscious. Every time you found yourself by the sea or on a sandy beach, a whisper of a memory danced at the edge of your thoughts, just out of reach.

Lost in your thoughts, distant calls of your name went unheard as you drifted into a daze, completely captivated by the sea, you didn't noticed the water has gone up to your knees level. It was only when a familiar hand gripped your wrist, pulling you back from the water, that you snapped out of your daze.

"Hey, what do you think you're doing?" His voice rang out, a mix of concern and annoyance. "You were about to walk straight into the deep sea! Do you have any idea how dangerous that could have been?" he exclaimed, gently pulling you back to the safety of the shore.

Startled, your gaze locked with his eyes, a blend of deep purple with delicate speckles of pink. In that moment, you found yourself drowning in the vastness of his gaze, unable to tear your eyes away.

His eyes held a mix of emotions, like a tumultuous sea that you couldn't quite decipher. You couldn't help but wonder if your encounter was more than just a coincidence, if there was a greater significance to the intertwining of your paths. The depths of his gaze seemed to hold the answers, yet they also posed more questions, leaving you both intrigued and captivated.

There was something undeniable about the connection you shared, a magnetic pull that transcended mere concern. In that moment, you realized that his eyes held more than just worry for your safety—they held a glimpse of a deeper connection, an unspoken understanding that seemed to bind you together.

The depth of his concern in the eyes are as clear as day, it momentarily puts you lost at words.

The situation slowly sank in, you realized that you had been so absorbed in your thoughts that you had unconsciously ventured into dangerous waters. The level of danger had escalated beyond what you initially thought, as the water had gradually risen without your awareness.

You blinked, your voice betraying a tinge of guilt as you stammered out. "I… I didn't even realize," you admitted, your words laden with a sense of remorse,. "The ocean… it just pulls me in. I can't explain it." Your eyes darted around, avoiding contact with Rafayel.

He sees the way you looked at the sea, sensing that you were searching for something, perhaps a connection or understanding.

In that fleeting moment, a glimmer of hope momentarily danced across Rafayel's face, as if he believed you had finally recollected something significant to him.

…But as he searched your eyes, that tiny glimmer faded, replaced by a mix of disappointment and frustration.

A deep sigh escaped Rafayel's lips, his eyes rolling with visible exasperation. "Oh, please," he scoffed, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "As if the ocean has some deep, personal connection to you," he muttered dismissively.

The atmosphere grew heavy with an unspoken tension, as Rafayel's words hung in the air. It was clear that he felt let down, hoping for a shared understanding that seemed to elude him once again.

Rafayel's frustration grew evident as he let out an exasperated huff, pushing away his bangs with an irritated sweep of his hand. "Look, we've got enough problems trying to win this damn classroom competition. We don't need you drowning yourself in the process." His head shook slightly, a clear expression of annoyance etched upon his face.

You felt a pang of regret wash over you, seeing the frustration etched on Rafayel's face. "Thanks for being worried, I guess," you mumbled, your tone tinged with a touch of bitterness. He could've said it nicely at the very least, you thought.

Feeling a wave of embarrassment wash over you for nearly getting yourself drowned, you quickly shifted your gaze to the expanse of the ocean stretched out before you.

The colors of the sea danced before your eyes, shifting seamlessly from the vibrant hues of turquoise to the deeper shades of indigo, as if an artist's brush had painted a masterpiece on the water's surface.

You couldn't help but wonder if there was a hidden world beneath the surface. Little did you know, you had been conversing with one of those hidden beings all along.

You noticed Rafayel's hands waving in front of your face, interrupting your oceanic reverie.

"I've heard the locals said that there is a mythical creature who roamed around this water, can you guess what it is?" His voice took on an eerie cadence. His head tilted slightly, as if he was assessing your reaction.

"Legend has it that those who make a pact with this sea creature are granted a special favor," he weave the tale as his gaze were penetrating your skin. "However," he paused, his words dripping with anticipation. "If one were to forget or break their oath, the consequences would be nothing short of catastrophic."

Drawing near, he leaned in, his voice a mere whisper in your ear. "They would face a fate far more harrowing than their most dreadful nightmares could ever conjure." His breath made your skin crawl, leaving behind a trail of goosebumps in its wake.

The tale he spoke of leave you with an eerie sense that there was more to this tale than met the eye. It was as if the threads of the story resonated with a deeper part of your being, stirring emotions and images that had long been dormant.

Yet, you shook off the discomfort, determined not to let Rafayel's words unravel your sense of reality, even as they lingered in your mind, leaving behind a lingering sense of unease.

With a light-hearted push, you nudge him away with your elbow, mustering a witty retort to maintain the casual banter. "Nice try, but I'm not one to fall victim to the legends of mermaids."

Unfazed, Rafayel continues to weave his tale, his voice dripping with a seductive charm. "How so? Don't their enchanting melodies and mysterious allure at least pique your curiosity?"

The weight of his words settled upon you, causing a shiver to ripple through your body. Yet, you maintain your composure, "Well, Rafayel," you taunt, "if mermaids are truly as captivating as you claim, perhaps I should take my chances. Who knows? Maybe I'll be the one to befriend a mermaid."

Oh, you already did and it was more than that.

Your soul remembers him, resonating with a familiarity that defies logic, while your conscious mind grapples with the mystery of who he truly is and where your paths have crossed before.

It's like your souls hold a hidden story, a shared history that teases the edges of your awareness, just beyond your grasp. The unspoken bond that lingers between you cannot be denied, as if your paths are intricately woven together, waiting to be unraveled.

In his presence, you find yourself both anchored and adrift, caught between the intangible and the tangible. The ties that bind you are not of this physical realm, but of a deeper dimension where emotions and memories intertwine like the ebb and flow of the tide.

There is a profound bond between you that goes beyond mere attraction, as if you have shared lifetimes together before.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a golden hue over the water, you and Rafayel became entranced by the moment, surrendering to the breathtaking beauty of the sea.

The scenery sparked a creative fire within you, the gentle dance of the waves mirrored the rhythm of your thoughts, as if the ocean had bestowed upon you the ideal theme for the upcoming classroom decoration competition. It was as if the universe had handed you a vibrant palette, ready to bring your ideas to life.

A smile tugged at the corners of your lips as an idea began to take shape in your mind. "Hey, what if we choose the ocean as our theme? We could create an underwater wonderland, wouldn't that be cool?" you suggested, your voice filled with enthusiasm.

Rafayel eyes widened with surprise, he took a moment to consider the suggestion. "That's actually not bad," he shrugged, his tone casual yet intrigued. "We could use blue and turquoise hues to mimic the ocean's colors, and hang paper jellyfish and other sea creatures from the ceiling. It'll be like stepping into an enchanting underwater realm."

The two of you continued to brainstorm all the way home, ideas flowing like a current, as you imagined transforming your classroom into a captivating oceanic paradise.

As the sounds of crashing waves slowly faded into the distance, replaced by the comforting rhythm of your footsteps, a familiar banter and laughter filled the air. The easy camaraderie between you and Rafayel created a warm and comfortable atmosphere, where the worries of the day seemed to melt away.

Minutes passed by, as if time had lost its grip on the endless conversations and moments of solace shared with Rafayel. He was like a soothing balm for your weary soul, a safe haven where your restless mind could find peace. His presence was like a sanctuary, where the weight of your worries seemed to dissipate into thin air.

Regrettably, the front gate of your house loomed before you, signaling the end of this cherished connection. With a warm smile, you waved goodbye to Rafayel, a bittersweet farewell that left an ache in your heart. "We'll talk more later, see you at school tomorrow!" you called out, hoping to preserve the thread of conversation that had woven its way into your shared journey.

He reciprocated with a smile and a wave, his eyes following you until you disappeared behind the closed door. As the facade he wore crumbled, a torrent of emotions flooded Rafayel's mind the moment you were safely inside. Frustration tightened its grip, as he struggled to understand how something so vital between the two of you could slip from your memory.

However, a twisted sense of satisfaction settled within him, as he relished in the knowledge of your home, a piece of your personal life that he now possessed, fueling a dangerous determination to claim you as his own.

This was never your home, and it would never be, for he had vowed to create a sanctuary where only he could offer you peace and happiness you deserved.

He knew that he had to do more, to make you realize the depth of his feelings. With unwavering resolve, Rafayel promised himself that he would build a world for you, free from any disturbances or distractions.

No one else would have access to this sacred space; it would be an intimate domain that existed solely for him and you.

"Wait for me, my love. I'll show you how much I adore you."

© mitfloya 2024. Kindly refrain from altering, translating, or reposting my works on any platform without obtaining my consent.

[moonlitstoriess]

Across the Universe-ch.8 (Fenrys x Reader)

Summary: Y/n has everything she needs in life. A family, friends, a safe place she calls home and most importantly a male whom she loves. What happens when it all changes when Y/n finds out about the betrayal of her lover and her so called family? Well, ending up in Terrasen and in queen Aelin's court was not what she expected but what she will need to start her new journey full of surprises.

Warning: Slight depiction of violence

See masterlist

There was the moon, casting a silvery trail across the dark waters of the shore where y/n stood. The rhythmic sound of waves crashing against the rocks filled the air, a soothing lullaby that mingled with the gentle breeze brushing through her hair.

She gazed up at the luminous orb hanging high in the night sky, its glow casting ethereal shadows across the sands. The shore stretched out before her, a tranquil expanse where the land met the sea in an eternal dance of tide and time. 

With each step, y/n felt the cool sand shift beneath her feet, grounding her in the present moment. The moonlight painted everything in shades of silver and grey, turning ordinary rocks and shells into shimmering treasures along the shoreline.

Then, she felt a presence right next to her on the shore, watching the waters dance under the moon. Y/n turned, startled, to see a figure cloaked in shadows, their presence imposing yet strangely comforting. As the figure stepped closer, the moonlight revealed a woman with piercing eyes and a knowing smile, displaying a set of iron teeth.

"I see you've found solace in the night, young one," the woman said, her voice a melodic whisper that carried an air of ancient wisdom.

Y/N hesitated, sensing something both familiar and unnerving about the woman's presence. "Who are you?" she asked cautiously, her curiosity tinged with apprehension.

"I am Elara," the woman replied, her voice carrying the soft lilt of someone who had seen ages pass. Her eyes, luminous in the moonlight, seemed to hold secrets of centuries past.

Y/N's curiosity piqued further. "Elara," she repeated, testing the name on her tongue. "Where are we, Elara?"

Elara turned her gaze towards the endless expanse of the sea, her expression thoughtful as moonlight played upon her features. "The tides of magic ebb and flow," she murmured, choosing to ignore y/n's question, her voice carrying a melody of secrets. "They bring me where the currents converge."

"You are drawn to magic, then?" Y/N ventured cautiously, choosing her words with care.

Elara's eyes sparkled with a knowing light, acknowledging the unspoken question. "Magic is a tapestry woven with many threads," she replied, her voice resonating with ancient wisdom. "Some threads are visible to those who seek them."

Y/N listened intently, sensing there was more to Elara's words than met the eye. "What are in my threads?" she asked softly, more to herself, than to the woman beside her.

Elara smiled gently, her expression serene yet filled with depth. "Your threads are intertwined with the fabric of worlds," she began cryptically, her voice carrying a melody of secrets. "You carry the essence of the Ironteeth within you—a lineage that spans beyond this realm."

Y/N blinked in surprise, her mind racing to grasp the implications of Elara's revelation. "Ironteeth?" she repeated, the word unfamiliar yet stirring something deep within her.

Elara nodded, her gaze unwavering. "Blue blood runs through your veins, child," she continued, her words carrying a weight of significance. "But it is not a curse—it is a gift, a mark of your lineage and the connection you hold between worlds."

Y/N felt a mix of confusion and wonderment. "I don't understand," she admitted quietly, her voice tinged with vulnerability.

Elara placed a comforting hand on y/n's shoulder, her touch grounding and reassuring. "You are special, y/n," she murmured, her voice a gentle breeze that swept away the shadows of doubt. "Your path is woven with purpose, threads that bind you to destinies yet to unfold."

"You are wrong. My parents... I never knew who they were, but it is impossible. They couldn't have been witches," y/n interjected, her voice tinged with disbelief. She stared at Elara, struggling to reconcile the revelation with what little she knew of her own origins.

Elara regarded y/n with a patient understanding, her gaze steady and unwavering. "Not all magic is inherited through direct lineage," she explained gently, her words carrying a weight of ancient knowledge. "Love transcends worlds, y/n. It weaves its own threads through the tapestry of existence."

Y/N frowned, her mind racing as she tried to piece together Elara's cryptic words. "Are you saying... my parents were from different worlds?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Embrace your heritage," she advised gently. "Let the love that brought you being guide your steps, and trust in the magic that flows through your veins."

Y/n sighed and looked towards the waters once again "I don't understand...I don- What....no. Impossible."

"Find Manon. Let her know. And find me again when you are ready."

Y/n quickly turned around "What are you say-"

But her words were quickly cut off as she realized the woman had disappeared. The shore was empty now, save for the gentle lapping of waves against the rocks and the whisper of the wind through the night. 

She took a step forward, scanning the moonlit expanse for any sign of Elara, but there was no trace of the enigmatic woman who had appeared with cryptic wisdom and vanished just as mysteriously.

Y/N let out a shaky breath, her mind racing with unanswered questions and the weight of Elara's revelations settling upon her shoulders. The realization that her journey was intricately tied to secrets beyond her comprehension left her both unsettled and strangely determined.

One second she was on that shore, the next she was back in the crystal caverns, on her knees before a mirror that seemed to shimmer with an otherworldly glow. The transition was disorienting, leaving y/n momentarily breathless as she took in her surroundings.

The caverns around her were filled with the soft hum of magical energy, crystals of various sizes and colors pulsing with a gentle light. The mirror before her reflected not just her physical form, but seemed to hold a depth that hinted at secrets and possibilities beyond.

Y/n reached out tentatively, her fingers grazing the cool surface of the mirror. It was smooth and unyielding, yet she sensed an almost imperceptible vibration beneath her touch—a sensation that whispered of connections waiting to be discovered.

Her mind raced with questions, the memory of Elara's words echoing in her thoughts. Seems like this mirror created an illusion around her. Not like the Ouroboros back in Prythian then. But...how did it connect to the enigmatic woman who had appeared and vanished with cryptic wisdom?

So many questions. Not enough answers.

A witch? How is that possible. Her whole life she and everyone who was unlucky enough to witness her blue blood thought of it as a curse. A deformity.

How in the seven hells is she an Ironteeth Witch? Was her mother a witch?

She hid this secret so well. Not even Azriel, let alone anyone else found out about it. So why now?

Whatever. This was a complete waste of time. She would never let anyone in on her secret and Manon won't know anything.

With that final thought, she got up and left the caverns, promising to herself never to come back here again.

"Y/n?....Y/n!"

Y/n came back to reality, her senses snapping back into focus as the familiar voice called her name. Blinking rapidly, she shook off the remnants of the mirror's illusion and turned towards the source of the voice.

Manon was standing right next to her, still holding her palm up. In a sudden fit of anger, y/n snatched her hand away from the silver haired witch and turned around, making her way into the palace.

"How long have you known? Kept this secret?"

That made her pause. She slowly turned around to see Manon standing in front of Abraxos with arms crossed and an unreadable expression on her face.

Y/n replied coldly "My whole life. The blue blood part not the whole Ironteeth witch part. And I would suggest you keep this a secret as well because if you don't then I won't be responsible for what happens to you next."

Manon's eyes narrowed as she stepped closer, her voice laced with a taunting edge. "You are an Ironteeth Witch. You are one of my own," she declared, her words hanging heavy in the air.

Y/n also approached her "I am not one of you. I am not even from your world. You may be the Queen of Witches but you aren't my queen."

They stood chest to chest now, the air thick with tension as they locked eyes, each refusing to yield in their stance. Manon's expression was unreadable, a mask of regal composure overlying whatever emotions churned beneath. Y/n's jaw was set, her stance reflecting both defiance and a hint of vulnerability.

Manon tilted her head slightly, studying y/n with a calculating gaze. "You're different," she acknowledged quietly, her voice carrying a note of curiosity. "But that doesn't change the truth of what you are."

Y/n's eyes narrowed slightly, a flicker of frustration crossing her features. "I don't owe you any explanations," she retorted, her voice firm. "My heritage is my own."

Manon's lips quirked in a semblance of a smile, though there was no warmth in it. "True," she conceded, her tone sharp and probing. "But secrets have a way of surfacing, especially when power is at stake."

Y/n bristled at the implication, her resolve hardening. "I won't be manipulated," she stated defiantly, her voice carrying an edge of warning.

"You are refusing your own destiny."

Y/n gave a firm look at the queen in front of her "This is not a destiny, it is a curse. My world never had any witches or Ironteeth whatever and frankly, I never knew anything about this until I ended up here."

Manon's gaze did not waver "You are a coward then."

She was in shock. Absolute shock. Does this witch think that just because she is a queen y/n would bow to her? Declare her undying loyalty to her? She had already done that once with Rhys and Feyre, safe to say, it did not end well.

Y/n snarled as she stood face to face with her "You have no idea of what I went through in my life. This blue blood nonsense made it even worse. Where were you or the other witches when I was being laughed at, avoided, tortured, insulted and beaten for it? That's right, fucking nowhere. This is a curse and I am not about to reveal it. I am not a coward for hiding something that brings only misery to me. Queen of Witches or not, you do not hold any sway over me so do me a favor and shut your mouth about this whole thing." With that, she turned around on her heels and took quick strides towards the palace.

But she still heard Manon's voice over the distance saying, "Come find me when you are not running away from your destiny."

Come find me. Come find me. Seems like both Elara and Manon enjoy pissing her off, thinking they know her better than herself.

She did not go to dinner. In fact, she had no idea where she was going, but she was going somewhere. Preferably, far away from everyone.

After who knows how many turns and dead ends, she found herself in front of another set of double doors at the end of the hall.

Without even thinking, she just entered only to be surprised when she saw Yrene, on the floor with papers, quills and books all around her, the main book being on her lap.

Y/n hesitated, not wanting to startle her, but Yrene looked up with a warm smile.

"Y/n! don't just stand there, come and sit." the healer said, pointing to a small lounge chair in the corner of the room.

She smirked while walking towards the chair "I thought you didn't want anyone disturbing you. Except your husband, of course."

Yrene slightly shook her head with a small smile "He just wouldn't listen to me when I said that he needs rest, that Aelin has servants coming and going to this room with meals and everything I may need. He is a stubborn brute! staying by my side constantly, helping me analyze and decipher. And now look at him...I finally managed to get him to rest. Though, I admit I had to use some help from Rowan."

Y/n giggled before a questioning look overtook her face, "I saw him limping earlier. But when you two first came, he walked just fine. What kind of an accident caused that condition, if I may ask?"

The healer's expression turned downcast as she began sorting through some of the papers on the ground. "Well...when Chaol and Nesryn--the future empress of the Southern Continent--came to Antica, he was in a wheelchair. Just...long story short the King of Adarlan had used his magic to break him."

At y/n's shocked expression, Yrene just gave a sad smile and continued, "Yes. I, as a healer of Torre Cesme, an academy that houses and trains gifted healers, was appointed to heal his legs."

She sighed as she looked towards the large windows behind y/n, her gaze unfocused, seemingly lost in her memories. "We hated each other at first due to our diferring beliefs on each other but, we eventually started being civil with one another. And the whole Valg thing just brought us closer. Which eventually resulted in him being able to walk again."

"Wait. What Valg thing?"

"Well, one of the Khagan's children, his pregnant daughter got infested with a valg that caused her to murder her younger sister and then try to murder me. It took us some time, but we eventually found out it was her and then when we fought her, she landed a hard blow on Chaol. He was going to die and with him, my soul would have died as well."

Y/n was just staring with wide eyes at the curly haired woman in front of her, urging her to continue "But, the other healers joined together and helped me heal him. Though there was a price for it and I payed it without thinking, without any regrets. Our lives were joined forever. He would walk, but if I used too much magic or exerted myself, he would need a cane or his wheelchair. Vise versa if he exerts too much energy, I will feel weak, nauseous and so on. Us being bonded in every sense also meant that once one of us dies first, the other also dies. We go at the same time."

Now this was something y/n had never heard of before. She knew how her High Lord and Lady also had joined their lives together. If there were any doubts about that actually being true, they were cleared when the whole fiasco during Nyxs' birth happened. But what y/n never heard of was how the actions of one would affect the other in such a bond.

She cleared her throat, still processing the information "That sounds romantic....in a way."

Yrene let out a small, lighthearted, laugh at that "Perhaps. I am glad to wake up everyday knowing that we survived it all and have a small family of our own now."

"You do?"

"Yes! Our son, Ares is only three, but he already is showing interest in weaponry. I try to keep them out of his way because it is so dangerous and Chaol is not the most organized person but...he somehow manages to find them. It is also not helping that his uncle Dorian keeps buying him wooden swords, bows, arrows and whatever else Ares wants. Such a spoiled kid."

She could see the fond smile on Yrene's face as she began once again, flipping through stacks of papers.

How does it feel to have a family of your own? A husband and kids...once upon a time y/n would've entertained that idea but no more.

"You miss your son."

The healer sighed "Of course, but atleast Dorian and the nannies are keeping him some company. And by some I mean a lot. Dorian refuses to let the kid breathe! He is too protective, acting like a mother hen at all times."

At that, they both looked at each other with amusement before letting out loud laughs that echoed throughout the room.

When their laughter died down, Yrene quietly asked y/n, "Well, I told you something about my life, now it is your turn to tell me something about your life in your world. How is that place?"

Y/n chuckled "Wait a minute. Why are we talking about me all of a sudden?"

Yrene just shrugged her shoulders with a small smile, still not looking at her "Well, I thought you could stop me from dozing off while trying to work out this book. So...please? Tell me something. Keep me company. I am quite curious, you know."

"Very well then. Hmmmm....my life back at home was very fun. Each day would be filled with different things to do. My High Lord, Rhysand, treated us, the inner circle as his family rather than his subjects. He became even better, less stressed, less frustrated when he met his mate and they later on had a son. I would spend my free days going to my favorite cafe's in Velaris, shopping with Mor, reading with Nesta, sometimes joining Feyre in her art studio, cooking with Elain, doing absolutely nothing with Amren-"

At that, she let out a small chuckle, remembering her tiny friend. "You know, you would fit right in the Dawn court. They have the best healers my world-Prythian-has to offer. And that whole place is absolutely beautiful and so peaceful. In fact, out of all the courts, I think I like Dawn the best."

Yrene looked up from the book at y/n with a curious glance "How many courts are there?"

"Six. Dawn which is the best, Day which is the most...unusual, Winter which is always cold, Spring which I hate because of its annoying, pain in the ass of a High Lord, Night from which I am from, and Autumn which is actually the worst."

"Oh wow. Your world seems so unique. I would love to explore all those courts."

"Yeah well, Dawn would probably be the best and only one you need to see because I don't think Chaol would be happy with you being in Day after seeing Helion and his...beyond appropriate comments and parties. Spring court is literally deserted, it's a long story so don't ask about it now, and would not recommend going there if you are allergic. Autumn court won't probably let you in because it has an egotistical, ancient hag for a high lord. Winter is nice but considering how you come from a warmer place, I don't think you will stay there for more than an hour. Night court is only nice when you are in Velaris and not in the Court of Nightmares."

Yrene once again had a questioning face and so it went on for another hour as they conversed about each other's lives and got to know one another more. Of course, they both still kept many things hidden from one another but y/n was glad they at least could share some of the happy memories.

When y/n left the healers room to go to her own, it was well near midnight but her veins thrummed with energy as she felt this strange feeling of content wash over her. Out of everyone here so far, she felt like Yrene was the one with whom she felt safest and most relaxed. It was good to talk to someone so freely after such a long time.

Fenrys stared at the papers in front of him. Being the Ambassador of Terrasen meant you got hundreds of official visits, check ups and whatever else to sign and read through. It was well beyond midnight but he couldn't sleep either so getting holed up in his study room is not something to complain about.

His mind also drifted of to a certain winged female who was starting to interest him more and more....unfortunately. For some reason, earlier today when she gave him a glimpse into her life it made him feel happy. Worthy of hearing something private. Of course his happiness was soon replaced with anger and another ugly feeling when he heard the name of that male...Azriel.

Was he handsome? Was he a good warrior? How old was he? He bet that he could destroy this Azriel in a matter of minutes if they ever came face to face.

Why was he even stuck on this? What y/n does with her private life shouldn't interest him. Although he can't deny the relief he felt when she told him they weren't mates. Honestly Fenrys, get yourself together.

But no matter what, he hates Azriel. Especially after y/n explained some of the things he did. What a spineless coward, that one. And once he saw her holding back tears, on the verge of a breakdown, there was nothing else at that moment that Fenrys wanted more than to crush Azriel's skull with his bare hands.

He waited for her at dinner but she didn't come. When Manon entered the room, her expression was indifferent as usual but her movements were somewhat stiffer. And when he asked her about y/n, she just gave him a short, cold reply "I don't know."

Something was wrong. He could feel it. But, Fenrys also valued his life enough to know not to provoke the witch beside him. He would just have to ask y/n tomorrow.

A knock on the door brought him back from his thoughts as Fenrys muttered a quiet yet audible "Enter."

Lorcan entered with a small smirk, going straight to the brown leather couch in the left side of the room, "I knew you would be awake."

Fenrys rubbed his face with his hand "And why are you awake? Shouldn't you be with your wife?"

The taller man just stared at the ceiling and yawned "Couldn't sleep. Knew that you barely sleep these days so decided to come keep you company."

Fenrys sighed but got up and went towards the shelf containing various forms of drinks. He took a good old aged whisky and poured it into two glasses before going towards Lorcan.

As he got gloser, Fenrys physically gagged "You smell of sex. Couldn't even bother washing up before coming here and sitting your ass down on my couch?"

Lorcan simply smirked, taking the glass from the males hand "Too tired for that. Don't be mad at me just because you are not having any fun these days."

Fenrys took a sip from his whiskey and placed the glass on the table before sitting back down on his chair "Poor Elide. Don't know how she manages with you, your stupidity, ego, clinginess and high libido."

He heard the brown haired man chuckle "Can you blame me? I miss my wife. This whole drama has made us so busy that I use every chance we get alone. It certainly hasn't gotten better becuse of her."

At Fenrys' questioning look, Lorcan said, "Y/n. We didn't even have any problems until she appeared here and now all of a sudden we have gates reopening and Valgs somehow reappearing. I am telling you, that little snake has something up her sleeve. She is up to no good."

Now, this got his attention and Lorcan clearly did not see the irritation slowly appearing over Fenrys' face because he continued, "She's a stranger, appearing out of nowhere just when trouble starts brewing again. It's too convenient. And everyone is slowly warming up to her. Even Elide! Though, can't say I blame her, my sweetheart has always only seen the good in everyone but I know for a fact that little brat is the total opposite of innocent."

Fenrys clenched his jaw, his eyes narrowing as he listened to Lorcan's words. The accusation against Y/n, whom Fenrys had started to slowly trust, struck a nerve. He fought to keep his voice steady as he interrupted, "Watch your tongue, Lorcan. She is just as desperate to go back to her world. Y/n has done nothing but help us so far when she could have already landed whatever her blow was if she were to be an enemy."

Lorcan scoffed and stared at the glass in his hands, "Honestly, I thought you and I were on the same page about this. Seems like her bullshit act has also won you over. Not to worry though, I gave her a good little pep talk to make sure that she knows she is never safe for as long as she is here."

Fenrys' blood ran cold. No. It couldn't be. Was Lorcan the one who threatened and caused her those marks? Fenrys felt the wolf within him slowly stir awake as he got up, eyes never leaving Lorcan, and steadily made his way over to him "What kind of a pep talk did you give to her?"

Lorcan just layed back on the couch, still not threatened by his companion as he just smirked "Pinned her to the wall by her neck. You should've seen her face Fenrys it was hilarious how she was struggling to breathe! It felt so good to finally bring down her walls and see her for the scared little girl she was. Showed her how she can talk and act brave but-"

Lorcan did not get the chance to finish before Fenrys grabbed him by the neck and forcefully pushed him towards the shelf behind the couch, causing it to fall with a loud bang and the books to scatter all over the floor.

Lorcan was surprised, but his shock soon turned to anger as he narrowed his eyes at Fenrys and got up "What-"

But Fenrys shut him up with a hard punch to the face and another one to the stomach. Not giving him the time to recover, he grabbed Lorcan by the collar of his shirt and pinned him to the wall with a harsh hit, causing the man to roughly hit his head against it, before using his hand to choke him.

He did not see. He did not feel. All he thought was that this bastard in front of him was one of the causes for y/n's discomfort. Never in his life had he felt this level of extreme violence. Of extreme need to kill.

Fenrys bared his teeth, displaying his sharp fangs as he growled, "I am going to kill you."

Lorcan couldn't even reply properly because of how forcefully he was being choked. His wide pleading eyes did nothing to ooze Fenrys' anger as he harshly threw the man before him to the table, causing it to break. A mahogany, durable, table just broke down because of the force with which he threw a man as big as Lorcan onto it.

Lorcan got up to his feet while still coughing and clutching his stomach and turned to look at Fenrys "What in the name of Wyrd is fucking wrong with you? I don't want to fight you."

Fenrys did not reply. Within the blink of an eye, he had the brown haired man on the ground, below him as he began throwing punch after punch, blow after blow onto his face.

His vision became red. At that moment, all he cared about was y/n and her safety. He wasn't going to show any mercy. He was going to kill him-

"STOP!"

"Gods, what in the seven hells-"

"Rowan do something!"

The next thing Fenrys knew, he was being dragged away from Lorcan. Someone was holding him to their chest. Restraining him. Stopping him from killing.

"Let me go."

"No."

"Fucking let me go!"

"Come back to your fucking senses Fenrys!"

It was as if someone dumped ice cold water all over him. The world around him started coming back into focus as Fenrys realized what was going on. Rowan was holding him back while Elide and Aelin were trying to get Lorcan on his feet.

He pushed himself away from Rowan and came closer but Aelin got between them as she glared at him "Fenrys what in the everloving fuck have you done? Look at the state of the room! Look at Lorcan!"

And indeed, the room was a complete and utter mess. Books, papers files, glasses and other objects were covering the floor. Broken or crumpled. His worktable was broken into two and the shelf was lying flat on the ground. The couch was on the verge of tearing apart. Not to mention, there were specks of Lorcans blood all over the floor.

But he did not care. He did not feel a single ounce of shame or remorse. Lorcan had it coming. He had to be put in his place. And so, he gently pushed Aelin and then Elide away, coming face to face with the male whom he considered as his close companion for so many centuries.

"If I ever find out that you have threatened, insulted, hurt, come any closer or even touched y/n again, trust me Lorcan my face will be the last thing you see before you end up in a grave. Besides, you're human now so it would be twice as easy for me to kill you."

He heard Elide gasp and Rowan sigh deeply while Aelin asked "For Wyrd's sake, what happened? What are you talking about?!"

But for the first time since taking the blood oath for Aelin, Fenrys ignored his queen and her demands as he strode past everyone towards the door "You might want to call Isolde. He doesn't look like he is in a good shape."

He did not look back as he left the room and headed towards his bedchamber.

By the time the early signs of sunrise hit, y/n was once again awake and already going through her fifth imaginary fight against the enemy in the training ring. It had been some time since she last used a sword and if she didn't practice with it more, she would be weaker in this field. Now that was something she couldn't and wouldn't allow so, here she was, using one of the swords to fling, hit and fight.

Cassian once told her how mastery over fighting with a sword was a form of art. In fact, all fighting forms were some sort of art and the one holding the weapon was the artist. She had to use the sword not as a weapon, but as an extension of herself. Smooth, swift and precise.

She was so focused on herself that she failed to notice the slight movement behind her. Y/n immediately turned around, ready to strike whoever the unluky bastard was when she realized that it in fact was not a someone but a something. Just there, in the near distance, Manon's wyvern, Abraxos was lying on the grassy ground, carefully and silently observing her.

Y/n's hand hovered near her weapon, tension coiled in her muscles as she assessed the wyvern's presence. Abraxos regarded her with intelligent eyes, his scales shimmering in the dappled sunlight filtering through the trees.

"What are you doing here, big guy?" she muttered, more to herself than to the creature. Despite his fearsome appearance, there was a curious gentleness in his demeanor as he lay there, observing her with a mix of curiosity and caution.

Slowly, Y/n eased her stance, recognizing there was no immediate threat from the wyvern. She slowly came over to him before crouching down, meeting Abraxos' gaze levelly. "Are you keeping watch for Manon?" she ventured, testing the waters with the formidable creature.

Abraxos rumbled softly, a sound that was more akin to a contented purr than a growl. He shifted slightly, adjusting his position on the grass but never breaking eye contact with Y/n.

"I suppose you're here to make sure I don't cause trouble," Y/n mused, a hint of amusement creeping into her voice. She had never imagined having a conversation, silent though it may be, with a wyvern. Yet here she was, engaging in an unexpected moment of understanding with Manon's loyal companion.

Y/n watched Abraxos for a moment longer, intrigued by the wyvern's calm demeanor. Without breaking eye contact, she slowly extended her hand towards him, palm up, a universal gesture of trust and invitation.

Abraxos regarded her hand for a moment, then tilted his head slightly, as if considering her offer. With a graceful movement, he stood up from the grassy ground and approached Y/n cautiously. She held her breath as his massive head drew closer, feeling the warmth of his breath and the soft touch of his snout against her hand.

Y/n took a glance at his wings and....they did truly look like hers just bigger and a little different.

"Alright, big guy," Y/n whispered, her voice barely audible above the rustling leaves. "Let's see what you've got."

Abraxos slightly tilted his head, as if understanding and questioning her. "Let's have a little morning exercise for our wings shall we? I haven't yet flown today and I am guessing you haven't either so, wanna do it together?"

At that, he stood as if readying himself for flight, his gaze never leaving hers. Smart creature.

Y/n smirked and flapped her wings gently first, "Let's see if you can catch me." and then, she shot upwards, Abraxos following in her lead as the two flew as high as possible, reaching the soft clouds.

The view from up here was beyond heavenly. The golden and warm hues coming from the sunrise cast a soft glow over the clouds and the skies, covering them in all the comforting hues of a morning light. Y/n felt a surge of exhilaration as the first rays of sunlight kissed her skin, enveloping them both in the serene beauty of the morning light.

As they soared higher, Y/n sensed Abraxos's presence beside her. The wyvern matched her pace with ease, his wings beating rhythmically as they navigated the skies together. Y/n glanced sideways, meeting Abraxos's intelligent eyes that sparkled with a mix of curiosity and companionship.

"You're fast," y/n called out over the wind, a wide grin spreading across her face. Despite the initial challenge, she couldn't help but feel a sense of unity with the majestic creature flying beside her. The bond forged in flight transcended words, a silent understanding between two beings sharing the boundless freedom of the open sky.

As they continued their flight, she marveled at the world unfolding beneath them. The patchwork of fields and forests stretched out in a tapestry of greens and browns, rivers winding like ribbons through the landscape. It was a view that only the sky could offer, a perspective that humbled and inspired in equal measure.

With each graceful arc and swoop, y/n and Abraxos danced through the sky, weaving a story of trust and exhilaration. In that moment, amidst the quiet majesty of the morning light, Y/n knew she had found a kindred spirit in the wyvern who soared beside her, sharing in the simple joy of flight under the gentle embrace of the sunrise.

After a while, they both gently landed on a wide and tall hill. Y/n was still smiling, adrenaline still buzzing in her veins when she turned around to see Manon approaching. That instantly made her smile drop.

The witch reached them and cast a look at Abraxos, who was feeding on the plants, "I thought only I got to fly with you in the mornings."

The wyvern gave a small rumble, more focused on eating the flowers beneath him. Manon rolled her eyes with a small smile as she gently caressed the beast.

When y/n turned to leave, she heard the queen say "When are you going to tell them?"

"I think I made it perfectly clear last night when I said 'never'." y/n replied, her voice tinged with frustration.

Manon stopped carresing Abraxos, leaving his side to come closer to y/n as she said, "So that's it then? You will keep running away from the inevitable? From the undeniable fact that you are an Ironteeth Witch? And if the Book of Breathings chose you, it seems like you have a connection, a power you have no idea about."

She scoffed "Easy for you to say. You didn't have to grow up in a world where witches, where your own kind did not exist. A world where you were an orphan who never knew her parents. A world where you were seen as a curse, a liability. You have no right to demand such things of me."

A shadow passed over her face before Manon came closer, her eyes gleaming with challenge "I don't? Last I checked, I am your queen. I may not know what that world of yours made you go through, made you believe in, but I can assure you that in this world, one of our kind is never left out. And believe me witch, I know far more about sacrifice and survival than you ever will."

Y/n let out a disbelieving huff "Do not call me a witch ever again Manon. You are neither my queen nor my leader. I am done with this conversation for once and for all."

As y/n turned to leave, she heard the witch say "Two days. I give you two days to tell them. If after two days you still haven't told anything, I will say it myself."

She whipped her head back around "What gives you the right?! Just because you are the queen-"

Manon turned around and began walking towards her wyvern "Perhaps you should also think about on the fact that maybe that world--Prythian--isn't your true home. Stop running away."

Y/n couldn't get the chance to say anything before the witch mounted her wyvern, muttered a "Ready for a second round?" and flew off into the skies.

Y/n found herself in an unfamiliar room. Aelin had gathered everyone in a sitting room to address the pressing issue at hand. Even Yrene was here. Servants had brought breakfast, which they enjoyed before being discreetly dismissed with instructions not to disturb them further. What y/n noticed was that both Lorcan and Elide were missing. And so was Fenrys. She tried not to think about him, not to worry but...why isn't he here? Did something happen?

Don't be silly y/n, he has a job to do. Maybe he is just busy. Yes. He is busy.

But that thought didn't make her uncertainty go away.

A luxurious area rug with an elaborate pattern in shades of brown and green covered the polished wooden floor, adding both comfort and regal elegance to the room. Near a tall window draped in heavy silk curtains in shades of green and gold, there is a plush armchair upholstered in gray velvet. A magnificent wooden coffee table, intricately carved and polished to a high sheen, stands at the center of the room. The walls are adorned with rich, textured gray wallpaper, subtly embellished with a delicate pattern that catches the light just so. Against one wall, a grand sofa upholstered in sumptuous brown velvet commands attention, its cushions exquisitely embroidered with threads of gold and green.

Rowan, standing in the center of the room, cleared his throat, drawing everyone's attention. "We've confirmed that the Valgs are returning because the gates between worlds are weakening,"  he looked at Manon "I need you to order your witches to start searching for these Valgs. My guess is that there is only few of them which is why they haven't yet revealed themselves in full force."

"That is an advantage for us. Considering that we can wipe them out before they are even ready." Aedion interfered, while chewing on an apple from his place on the couch.

Rowan nodded "Yes. Which is why we need to keep the element of surprise on our side. Manon, make sure that the witches are careful and discreet."

The silver haired woman gave a slight nod while getting up and going towards the door. "Don't tell me how to manage my witches, bird. I will send word to Petrah."

Rowan rolled his eyes at her nickname for him but continued, "Next. If the Valgs are to attack us before we can find them, we need to be prepared. I will put a barrier, a ward of sorts, all around Terrasen, not to mention, I will make sure that the sages from the sanctuary use their ancient magic to create an extra barrier-"

"But what if the Valg are already inside our territory?" The question came from Lysandra who was picking at the cherries on top of the cake.

"And what if those monks are still cranky old bastards?" Aedion asked at the same time, earning a glare from his cousin.

Rowan chose to ignore his silly question but considered Lysandra's question carefully before responding. "If they're already here, our priority remains to contain and eliminate them swiftly," he said firmly, his gaze sweeping across the room. "The barrier I propose will not only protect Terrasen but also act as a detection mechanism. It will alert us to any breaches, giving us a chance to respond before they can cause significant damage. Which is why, it is essential we get the sages to cooperate."

Y/n asked from her place near the window, "What about the Book of Breathings? Didn't Aelin say it contained a text on how to defeat the Valgs once and for all?"

Aelin, seemingly in thought, replied "We still have no idea about that part of the issue."

Rowan looked straight at y/n "The seers' said that you are the one who can somehow close the gates. Any guesses?"

Tell them. Tell them you are a witch. Don't run away.

No. She wasn't a witch. She wouldn't accept this. She has a curse not a gift.

But maybe....

Y/n furrowed her brow, thinking deeply. "Closing the gates... It must involve understanding their nature," she began, pacing slightly as ideas formed in her mind. "If the gates are weakening because of a disruption in their magical alignment, then restoring that alignment could be the key."

Rowan nodded thoughtfully. "So, we need to find a way to correct the magical energies that govern the gates," he summarized, his eyes brightening with a hint of optimism.

Aedion raised an eyebrow. "And how exactly will we do that?"

Aelin sighed "Yrene, how is your deciphering going?"

The healer, who was sitting on the sofa with her husbands arms tight around her, replied "I managed to completely identify the characters and patterns. All that is left is to join them and understand the overall context. This analysis could take me another day or two."

This earned her a kiss on the head from Chaol and a proud smile from everyone, including y/n.

Aelin got up from her chair and went towards her mate "Very well done Yrene. I think for now, this is all we can do. Hopefully, we will find a way to get the Book of Breathings, somehow find a way for y/n to close the gates and go back to her world."

Lysandra, who was gently caressing her husbands injured arm, said "I just want the Valgs to be completely wiped out this time."

Aedion looked at her with all the care and love in the world "We will."

Well, seems like those two made up.

Eva came running into the room, making all the eyes turn to her as she jumped up and down, excitedly "Dorian is coming! Dorian is coming!"

Chaol was immediately on his feet as he took the letter from the younger girl's hands and read it before looking at Aelin with a smile so bright, y/n thought it could compete with the sun itself "He is on his way. He is coming."

The queen and her mate smiled as Lysandra laughed while putting her head on Aedions uninjured shoulder "Missed your brother, Chaol?"

Yrene just snickered from her place on the sofa "Can't wait to see Manon's reaction."

Once everyone started leaving the room, each going to do their tasks regarding the issue, y/n hesitantly approached Aelin in the hallway.

This is so embarrassing. Why is she worried about him? Fenrys is none of her concern-

"Aelin?"

Her mouth moved before she could even rethink her decision.

The queen turned around and came closer towards her with a questioning look.

"This....this may sound um....unusual I-I don't even know why I am asking but....I guess I am worried um....where- where is Fenrys?"

She gave her a slight smile before taking her arm and pushing her into one of the rooms closest to them. Once she closed the door, Aelin turned towards y/n as she said "Fenrys, he....he had a disagreement with Lorcan last night. I- look, I was thinking of saying this later when I forced Lorcan to apologize to you but I guess I have to do it now. I am so sorry and ashamed that a member of my own court treated you that way, I mean, choking? Are you serious? And I was wondering why would you wear turtlenecks during this season. Elide is also very ashamed on his behalf, Rowan and the others are pissed at him but....he is also blood sworn to me and very dear to Elide so it's not like I can just kill him. Anyhow, Lorcan has always been.....complicated. But I know that is no reason for him to do what he did which is why I will make sure he apologizes- no, begs for your forgiveness once he is in a proper condition again."

They know. Mother above....how? She thought she did a good job at hiding it but...

"How did you find out? Does Fenrys know?"

"Sweetheart, Fenrys was the one that put Lorcan in that horrific condition in the first place. I never saw him that mad. Rowan even said that over the hundreds of years that he has known Fenrys, he had never seen him that violent. Especially towards someone as feared as Lorcan. Not even when Maeve sent him to kill Lorcan was he this enraged."

"What?! How did he know?!"

"Lorcan himself told him apparently. I don't know the full thing because Fenrys just locked himself up in his room and ignored all of us. Wait-"

But y/n had heard enough. She was already storming out of the room, heading towards his bedchamber. How stupid can he be? She told him to not interfere!

When she was in front of his room, she knocked on the door once, not receiving an answer.

"Fenrys. Let me in."

No reply.

"Fenrys!"

Still, nothing.

"Fenrys, I swear if you don't open this door in the next five seconds, I will break it down myself!"

He was clearly ignoring her now.

"Fenrys! Why-"

The door slammed open and there he was, standing right in front of her, in a simple white tunic and black pants, hair completely dishelved from running his hands through it and speaking of....his hands were completely bruised. She should not feel this aroused just from looking at him. Stop it. He was in a fight and all you can think about is how attractive he is?

She sighed and pushed past him into the room.

"What-"

"Sit down on the bed."

"Y/n, I do not have the energy to play your silly game-"

"Does it look like I am playing games? Believe me, I am quite pissed at the stunt you pulled but you also need tending to those wounds. Sit your ass on the bed and we will talk while I tend to you."

"I don't need a nanny-"

"Fenrys."

Her voice left no room for disagreement as he sighed and sat down on the bed while y/n went to fetch a healing kit from the bathroom.

She came back a minute later with the supplies she needed and put them down next to him on the bed. She took his left hand first, inspecting the bruises and cuts on his knuckles gently, before beginning her work.

Fenrys watched carefully as y/n applied the products onto his hand. She was so concentrated that she didn't even notice his gaze burning into her skull. Her calming and delicious scent enveloped him, making him feel relaxed. No one had ever cared for him in this way before. No one.

It was always just him and himself who tended to his own wounds. Maeve never cared enough to send her healers to aid him after the things she would put him through. In battles or wars, he always put others before himself, insisting on their treatment first. He doesn't even remember his mothers face so its not like he had any caretaker anyway.

But y/n...the way she gently applied the medicine so that it wouldn't hurt him, the way she softly caressed his hand....he didn't know if she was aware of it or not but he couldn't bring himself to care. Not while he felt this calm in her presence.

That calmness, however, was shattered when she asked "Why did you do it?"

He scoffed slightly, "If you thought that I would just let it go then you were wrong."

Y/n, still not looking at him but at his hands, replied, "Clearly. I told you that I would deal with him on my own, didn't I? You had no right."

There she goes again with her agressive bullshit. She has no idea how it felt for him last night. How he was ready to tear Lorcan into pieces for touching her, for insulting her. And here she is talking about him having no right?

He moved his hand away from her, causing her to look at him with those hypnotizing eyes that make him want to commit every sin possible in the world just to-

"Stop acting like a baby. Why did you do it? I mean, we owe each other absolutely nothing and it's not like you care anyway."

"Do I need to care to beat him up for hurting you?"

"Umm, Yes? Why in the seven hells-"

"You are right. I don't care about you and neither should you so just leave."

Why did it physically hurt him to even say this sentence? A quick flash of hurt passed over her features and Fenrys wanted to peel his skin off for being the cause of it.

Her features hardened before she pulled his hand back towards her and said "You are a big, annoying, egotistic brute. I hope you know that. Consider this a thank you for doing....that."

Fenrys couldn't help the smile forming on his face "Did you just thank me? I think I am going mad."

She chuckled slightly before rolling her eyes "This is the only time you will hear it from me so don't get too optimistic."

Y/n didn't know why seeing him smile made her feel so happy. Whatever it was, she had to stop it before it got too far. But, as she patched up his hands, she just didn't want to stop. Didn't want to let go. And when she looked up to see him already looking at her with those depthless, onyx eyes that softened when they made contact with hers, she didn't want to stop anything.

But the sweet moment was cut short as the air suddenly crackled with energy. A burst of bluish-white light spread around the room and before she could even process what was happening, Fenrys threw her behind him as he drew his sword from under his mattress and got into an attackers stance.

Y/n got on her tip toes to look over his shoulders and what, or rather who she saw made her gasp in shock.

There, in the middle of the room, in the middle of what appeared to be some kind of a magical circle, her ghost like figure casted an otherworld glow all around her.

Y/n immediately stepped aside and slowly came closer, not believing her eyes.

"Amren..."

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[obsidian-pages777]

Pick a Card: Goddess Sedna 's Healing Messages. [Goddess of the Sea]

Left Top [Pile 1], Right Top [Pile 2], Bottom Left[Pile 3], Bottom Right[Pile4]

Sedna, the Sea Goddess of Inuit mythology, reigns over the icy waters of the Arctic seas with power and grace. She is a complex and enigmatic deity, embodying both the nurturing embrace and the fierce wrath of the ocean depths. Revered by the Inuit people as the mistress of marine animals and the keeper of the sea's bounty, Sedna holds sway over the delicate balance between humanity and the natural world. Her mythic tales speak of transformation, sacrifice, and the inexorable cycles of life and death. Often depicted as a beautiful maiden with long flowing hair, Sedna's presence is both captivating and formidable, reminding mortals of the awe-inspiring majesty of the sea and the mysteries that lie beneath its surface.

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Pile 1: Card drawn: Ace of Cups

Sedna speaks to you of a fresh start in matters of love. The Ace of Cups represents new beginnings, emotional clarity, and overflowing feelings of love and compassion. This card suggests that emotional healing in your love life is on the horizon. It encourages you to open your heart to new possibilities and allow love to flow freely into your life. Release any past hurts or disappointments and embrace the joy and fulfillment that love can bring.

"Let the currents of love carry you to new shores, where the waters are clear and the heart finds its home."

"In the vast ocean of love, every wave carries the promise of a new beginning. Embrace the tides of change with an open heart."

"True love is an endless ocean, deep and boundless. Dive fearlessly into its depths, and you will find treasures beyond measure."

"Love is the eternal dance of two souls, moving in harmony with the rhythm of the universe. Trust in its sacred flow, and let it guide you to your destined shore."

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Pile 2: Card drawn: Three of Swords (Reversed)

Sedna acknowledges your pain and offers solace in the Three of Swords reversed. This card indicates that you are in the process of healing from a painful breakup or heartache. It suggests that you are beginning to let go of the hurt and release any lingering resentment or sorrow. Trust in Sedna's healing waters to cleanse your heart and soothe your soul. Remember that healing takes time, but you are on the right path towards emotional recovery and renewal.

"In the depths of sorrow, find solace in the healing embrace of the sea. Let its gentle waves carry away the pain, leaving only strength and resilience in its wake."

"Like the ocean's tide, healing comes in waves. Allow yourself to ride the currents of grief, knowing that calm waters lie ahead."

"With every tear shed, let the sea goddess cradle your heart and whisper words of comfort. She understands the ebb and flow of pain, and she will guide you to the shores of peace."

"Healing begins with acceptance. Surrender to the healing waters within, and let them cleanse your spirit of all that no longer serves you. From the depths of despair, rise renewed and whole."

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Pile 3: Card drawn: The Star

Sedna shines her light upon you with The Star, a card of hope, renewal, and healing. In the realm of mental and physical health, this card signifies a period of rejuvenation and inner peace. It encourages you to have faith in the healing process and trust that brighter days are ahead. Connect with Sedna's nurturing energy to replenish your mind, body, and spirit. Practice self-care, seek support when needed, and believe in your ability to overcome any challenges that may arise.

"In the stillness of the sea, find the tranquility of the mind. Let go of worries and fears, and allow the gentle currents of peace to wash over you."

"Your body is a temple, sacred and strong. Nourish it with care and kindness, and it will carry you through the roughest seas."

"Like the stars that illuminate the night sky, let your inner light shine bright. Believe in your own strength and resilience, and you will navigate any storm with grace."

"The journey to wellness begins with self-love. Honor your mind, body, and spirit, and you will find harmony in the depths of your being."

================================================================================================

Pile 4: Card drawn: Ten of Cups

Sedna blesses your family life with the Ten of Cups, a card of harmony, happiness, and emotional fulfillment. This card represents the deep bonds of love and connection within your family unit. It suggests that your relationships with loved ones are strong and supportive, providing a source of comfort and joy. Take time to appreciate the love and stability that your family brings into your life, and cherish the moments spent together. Allow Sedna's gentle waves to wash away any tension or discord, fostering a sense of unity and contentment within your family circle.

"Family is the anchor that keeps us grounded amidst life's storms. Treasure the bonds of love that unite you, for they are the pillars of your strength."

"In the embrace of family, find refuge from the chaos of the world. Together, you weather every storm and celebrate every triumph."

"Like the sea, family flows with the rhythm of love. Cherish each moment together, for they are the waves that make up the ocean of your shared memories."

"Family is not just blood; it is the love that binds us together. In the arms of your loved ones, find sanctuary and belonging, knowing that you are cherished beyond measure."

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[sheerfreesia007]

Tickled Confessions

Pairing: Han Jisung x Reader

Word count: 1,759

Content warnings: Fluff

Summary: Your relationship with Jisung has morphed into a sweet easy love that you think is only one sided. What happens when he confesses in one of the most shocking ways to you?

You plop down onto the couch in Jisung and Minho’s apartment as Jisung walks around the other side of the couch talking about an anime that he wants you to start watching with him since Minho isn’t interested in it. Nodding your head you lay out on the couch and Jisung looks down at your legs before shaking his head at you and flopping down heavily on top of you causing you groan out loudly while he giggles at your theatrics.

“Why are you so heavy?” you grumble out as he begins to twist and turn causing you to grunt softly at his movement, until he’s wedged himself between your legs with his head resting on your stomach while his arms wrapped lazily around your waist and over your hips. He reached over your body to grab the remote from the coffee table before settling back on top of you heavily as your breath escapes your body in a low hiss.

“You love it.” he teased  softly just before he nuzzled his face into your covered stomach making you squeal softly in surprise feeling your stomach muscles twitch with how ticklish you are. Jisung chuckles softly before nipping your stomach through your shirt and turning his head to stare at the television as he pulls up the anime.

The two of you fall into a quiet comfort as you both lay on the couch watching the anime. You have to admit that it’s an entertaining show and you can’t help diving into it so easily and becoming immersed in it. But just as it’s starting to pick up in the storyline Jisung starts to fidget distracting you from the show slightly. You notice it idly as he shifts in his place while rubbing his cheek against your stomach and your muscles tense in preparation of being tickled. He was known to try and be cute and cuddly but then attack you with tickles so you were trying to prepare yourself.

“Stop tensing, you turn into a hard pillow then.” he grumbles out to you and huffs at him as you try to relax.

“Stop fidgeting.” you scold him softly as your hands come to rest against his shoulder blades. 

Your fingers trace along the indentation of his shoulder bones through his skin and hear him let out a loud calming breath. You continue to trace your fingers along his back trying to soothe him as you go back to focusing on the anime. Jisung’s body grows heavier on you and you feel his breathing start to even out as you realize that he’s fallen asleep on you. You grow distracted with his sleeping form as you stare down at him and admire how cute he looks when he’s asleep.

You and Jisung had been friends for a few years at this point and your relationship had been like the slow ebb and flow of the ocean waves, always constant in your affection and adoration of him but the intensity would change depending on his schedule. When he was not on tour or super busy with his schedule it was like the crashing of the waves on the shore, powerful and would almost knock you off your feet. And when he was on tour and away from months at a time with his hectic busy life it was like when the waves pulled away from the shore, just a distant memory of your affection for him always there but distant leaving a lingering feeling within your body. 

Your relationship with him was something that had become almost second nature for you, it was easy because the two of you made it easy for each other. There was no expectation or pressure on your relationship; it was laid back and almost snuck up on you, at least your love for him had. 

You hadn’t realized that you were falling in love with him until the last time they had gone on tour overseas. The both of you had kept in touch with each other almost constantly this time around since it had felt like you both were missing the other more. He had surprised one night with purchasing a flight ticket for you to come and visit him for a few days on one of their stops on tour, you had eagerly packed and gotten on that plane.

When you had landed and made it out of baggage claim he was standing there at the doors leading out to the pick up area holding a dorky sign that read ‘Stray Kids #1 Fan’ with a bunch of multicolored hearts drawn around the whole sign and his beaming smile that nearly blinded you. It was then when you felt your heart swell with a love so big you couldn’t deny anymore that was when you knew that your heart had gripped onto him and refused to let him go.

You had thought at first that it would be awkward to be in love with him since you didn’t believe he felt the same but surprisingly it was just as easy as your friendship. The two of you were already close and touchy as friends but now it was just an added feature that your heart would beat a certain rhythm when you were with him. It was an easy quiet love that just grew and grew within you until it became a part of your entire being. Sighing softly you smiled down at him as your eyes danced around his peaceful face.

“I can feel you staring.” he mumbled sleepily and you scoffed softly before turning your head away from him and back to the television. He whined softly as he buried his face in your stomach and rubbed it back and forth to gather your attention once more. “Don’t stop.” he whined and you chuckled at his silly antics.

“Quiet, I’m trying to watch this anime.” you cooed at him softly as you kept your face turned to the television. Jisung whined loudly this time as he buried his face in your stomach again nuzzling into your shirt and the muscles behind it trying to get you to pay attention to him. You flinched at his movement and nearly came straight off the couch when you felt his fingers ghost against your sides. The two of you held still there for a moment in the silence before you spoke up.

“Don’t.” you warned softly right before Jisung dug his fingers into your sides and began to tickle you hurriedly. You twisted and turned trying your hardest to get away from the offending appendages of the man on top of you as you gasped and shrieked. Finally you managed to grab onto his own sides and he snapped his head up to stare at you with wide eyes before you smirked at him delighted. “Payback Sungie.” You cooed at him and began to tickle him back. 

His body bowed and snapped on itself trying to get away from you as he screamed with laughter. You laughed along with him while flipping him onto his back on the couch to gaze down at him as your fingers continued to lightly dig into his sides until he was gasping for air. You beamed adoringly down at him as his eyes squeezed close and his mouth dropped open in happy unabashed laughter while his body twisted underneath you. 

As you continued your assault on the poor man beneath you you didn’t hear the front door opening over Jisung’s screaming laughter or see the man who entered the apartment silently to stare at the two of you with a soft smirk on his face. His body nearly snapped in half when your fingers dug into the skin right about his hip bones and you smirked down at him as you dug your knees into the couch trying to keep him underneath you.

“Please!” Jisung suddenly cried out breathlessly and you grinned wickedly down at him as your eyes watched him avidly with happiness shining through your irises. “Please, no more!” he gasped out as his head fell back against the couch cushions while he pressed his hips up against yours trying to dislodge you from him. You leant down over him to hover above his face as you cooed softly at him teasingly while slowing your fingers movements.

“What’s the magic word?” you asked teasingly before digging your fingers into his sides once more causing him to bow his body underneath you as he gasped out loudly. His eyelids were at half mast as he stared at you with love filled eyes and you sucked in a harsh breath when you saw something shift within them.

“I love you!” he gasped out and you felt your heart explode inside your chest as warmth filled you instantly at his confession. Your fingers immediately stopped tickling him and you hovered over him panting slightly as your eyes darted around his face as he gasped for air beneath you. His eyes stayed locked with yours and the two of you just took in the moment before Jisung began to shift with uncertainty. You knew his anxiety was starting to skyrocket within him and you immediately leant down and pressed your lips against his in a sweet soothing kiss that caused him to whimper softly in surprise as his lips chased yours when you pulled away slightly.

“Love you too.” you whispered to him sweetly and his eyes slowly and almost lazily opened to shine at you. It was quiet for a moment as you both basked in the loving confessions shared between the two of you before it was rudely interrupted.

“Ugh, disgusting!” came the rough voice of Minho as he gagged, causing you and Jisung to whip your heads over to stare at him as he sneered at the two of you playfully. You nearly fell on top of Jisung in your haste to get off the couch and walk over to Minho who watched with amused eyes while Jisung steadied you with a soft pout on his face as you stood up. You noticed the grocery bags at his feet and quickly began to walk over to him to help but Jisung grabbed your wrist before tugging you back to him. He was already standing from the couch and easily caught you in his arms before tilting your head up to him and pressing another sweet kiss to your lips while Minho gagged again from behind the two of you as you chuckled softly into the kiss.

SKZ Taglist: @intartaruginha, @kayleefriedchicken

[mrs-elsie-barnes]

Solstice Eve | Loki x Reader

You and Loki enjoy the run up to the Winter Solstice, getting to know the Asgardian court and integrating into your new home. But there's always trouble brewing and this time old allies come back as new enemies.

Warnings: some language, silly fluff, Christmas vibes in August, threat of kidnapping.

AN: what do you mean this is 8 months too late!?

Dividers by @firefly-graphics & @reveriesources

Series Masterlist | Loki Masterlist | Masterlist

Winter in Tonsberg was beautiful. You watched day after day as drifts of snow filled in the crags and tarns of the mountains surrounding the village. Every morning you made coffee for two, slowly learning all of the different dials and knobs of the expensive coffee machine Loki had in his impressively equipped kitchen. His cottage wasn’t as sprawling as the compound, but it was beautifully appointed. From the open stone fireplace to the waterfall shower and roll top bath, Loki had a wonderful eye for both luxury and comfort in even the most everyday items and habits. He allowed you to make any changes you wanted though, adding blankets you bought at the Sunday market, cushions and tapestries the elders gifted you and what felt to him like hundreds of candles. 

The house was always happier with a candle burning, cycling through vanilla and cinnamon, the scent clung to him when he attended council meetings and followed him to the small pub on the wharf, The Dog and Bildgesnipe, when he met with Thor. 

Loki had started adding sticks of cinnamon to the fire in the evening too, unable to go without it regardless of if you were in the cottage or not. He loved the way you’d changed his home, fitting perfectly into the nooks and spaces of his heart and moulding new and interesting ways to live out of every vacant moment. 

He watched you now, as you wrapped the ends of your sweater over your hands to protect them, standing at the window, watching the weather changing in the distance, the people passing and waving in the street. 

The morning had started like any other, tangled in a mess of bare limbs and soft sheets, Loki had kissed you awake and you’d showered together, giggling in the steam without a care. After your shower you’d dressed first, leaving Loki to enjoy the hot water while you sought out your first coffee of the day.

 As he watched, you sighed, leaning against the wooden window frame and raised your hand as Madam Gina walked past, the stooped old woman who had revealed so much of your life on that day at the end of November. Since then you’d seen her many times, mostly in the Long Hall where she took up residence on the sidelines, watching and smiling at the children playing or the business of the court. You liked it there too and had spent many happy afternoons since beside her, topping up her teacup whenever it got low.

Thankfully, there had been no more revelations and no more surprise visitors. Just the ebb and flow of life in Tonsberg as it should be, and Loki’s heart swelled to see you so settled. Everything was as it should be, he thought, ready for another day.

Tony ushered Steve into his office, checking the corridor before locking the door. Steve rolled his eyes, the entire office was empty at this hour, but he was glad Tony was at least taking their project seriously. 

“Have you done it?” Steve went straight for the desk, bending across to pull all the paper together and leafing through.It was unlike Tony to do anything the ‘old fashioned way’, as he called it, but he was determined to keep this project a complete secret.,

“Of course I’ve done it, you’re a sceptic, Rogers, anyone ever tell you that?” He circled around the wide glass desk and dropped himself into his office chair.

“I just want to make sure it’s right, we don’t know what we’re messing with here.” He scanned the paper again, the strange symbols and pictures a blur. 

“I’m sure, if we -” Tony snatched the papers back, searching for something, “if we - god fucking damnit this is why I hate paper - a ha!” With a flourish he pulled something from the bottom of the pile and slapped it onto the glass in front of Steve. “If we use this,” he tapped his fingers on a circling of runes, “we can keep him contained. I saw him in that castle, he could’ve used his magic and had her out in seconds, but instead he -” Tony made a motion over his throat with his thumb, “why would he make such a mess unless he had too?” 

“Tony, the mans a lunatic, maybe he just likes killing?” Steve sighed, pulling another chair closer so he could sit and flick through the pages instead. 

“I don’t disagree, that’s why I want to bring him in.” Tony took the page back, keeping it neatly to one side.

Steve rubbed a hand over his face and then looked out of the window. It had started to snow across the compound in the last few days, slushy grey drifts that made him think of Brooklyn in the 40s, churned up snowmen and bitter cold nights. 

“What are you going to do with him, once he’s here?” He asked, his mind wandering to Bucky, currently safe on the sofa in his own apartment. Probably still mooning after Natasha, but at least he was safe. They’d locked him up too, and he was innocent, doubt crept into his consciousness but Tony was already answering. 

“Lock him up, throw away the key?” Tony said, glibly . 

“Tony,” Steve’s tone was firm, if they were arresting a man then they needed more of a plan than just locking him up. 

“We put him on trial. Thor says he’s served time in Asgard and been ‘rehabilitated’, something about the Mind Stone and I don’t fucking buy it. He’s a liability and Thor won’t help us, went all Prince Charming with a sore head when I suggested it.” 

Steve remembered Thor leaving, no one had heard from him since but he was fairly sure he was back in Norway. He wouldn’t leave the Asgardians for long. 

“I remember. So, we put him on trial and then?” Steve trailed off, “put him in prison? What prison would even hold him?”

Tony’s eyes lit up, “And then we charge the Federal Bureau of Prisons a small fortune to keep him here! I love it Rogers, you’re starting to get it!” 

“Tony.” 

“Then we know we’re doing the right thing, okay, girl scout. He’s got that girl all wrapped around his fingers, who knows what awful, evil things he’s twisting into her mind. We get him, we get him on trial and then we get her back.” 

“Fine.” Steve gave a heavy sigh, “When?” 

“Tomorrow.” 

“Do you know where he is?” 

“Tonsberg, where else would he be,Thor said he was under Asgard’s protection.” 

“Tomorrow, Tonsberg.” 

“Just us though, don’t worry anyone else about it now.” Tony said, cryptically. 

Steve scowled, he hated these backdoor deals, if he was doing them then so were a hundred other people and who knew what they were up to. But he had promised to keep Estrid safe and then she’d slipped away, been seduced by Loki and under his watch, kidnapped, attacked, vanished. Despite his doubts and fears about how Loki’s imprisonment might play out, he couldn’t leave a woman in such clear danger. 

“Agreed, let’s get him locked up where he can’t hurt anyone anymore.” 

“That’s the spirit, Rogers.” Tony grinned again and Steve’s stomach turned again. 

—

Loki pulled his sweater on, abandoned on the back of the sofa the night before, and kept half an eye on you while he collected his own coffee from the kitchen island. On light steps he crept up to you and wrapped an arm around your waist. 

“How’s the weather today, my Darling?” He sipped his coffee, looking down at you with that wistful smile he seemed to have permanently etched on his face. 

“Cold, snowy,” anyone else may have looked miserable at prospect of a below freezing day on the unforgiving coast, but not you. No, Loki had noticed you were always happy to enjoy the changing season and everything they had to offer. Whether it was the bright sunshine he'd met you in, the crisp autumn leaves that coated the ground are his cabin, or now the blanket of snow that has been placed like a cosy blanket across the entire horizon. “We should go for a walk later, on the cliff tops, if it’s not too windy.” You suggested, finishing your coffee. You span in his arms, reaching up to tangle your fingers in his hair. 

“That sounds wonderful, Asynja, I’ll try and get out of this council meeting early. In fact, would you like to attend? I believe we’re discussing the last preparations for the Solstice feast and Yule celebrations. I’m sure your new friends would enjoy your company while they weave the wreath.” He teased, kissing your forehead. 

The elders of the village had taken quite a shine to you and you’d easily fallen into step with the other women, helping to prepare for the feast and giving advice on the decorations. In reality, you had no idea what was happening when they asked. It has come as a surprise that they not only allowed you to join them, but sought your input with genuine interest. Especially as you had barely celebrated anything while you lived as a mortal in London. There’d been no Yule, no Christmas. Nothing. But you were excited to share this first celebration with Loki. 

“Leave my friends alone,” you chided playfully, “I’d love to come, let me just -” 

You barely had to move to use your magic now, a simple flick of your fingers and you had summoned your boots and tights, a corduroy skirt and knitted jumper. Your coat and scarf were by the door. Although it was below freezing outside it didn’t seem to bother either of you, Loki never felt the cold and you were always able to conjure enough warmth in your hands to keep the Norwegian wind at bay. 

“Are you ready?” You asked, skipping out of his grasp and opening the door, letting a swirl of snow in over the doorstep. 

“Of course I am,” he answered, a wisp of his own magic dancing in the air as a duplicate called to you from down the street. 

With a laugh you shut the door, chasing him down, your magic and laughter entwined with the softly falling snow. 

Loki was right, the council meeting was no more than a decorators committee at this point in the month, but you both revelled in the feeling of being part of something more, something soft and warm that filled you with happiness just like the hot spiced wine and thick stew that was passed around at lunch time. 

By the time Brunnhilde had called an ending to the proceedings it was already dark, the street light reflecting from the crisp snow and the moon illuminating the edges of the water. 

“I guess we’re not going for that walk on the cliffs after all,” you grouched playfully, wrapping yourself around Loki’s arm as you walked side by side. 

“As much as I’d enjoy having you all to myself in the dark of night,” Loki purred in return, freeing his arm just to wrap it around your waist, “I fear we have friends waiting.” He kissed the top of your head and you snuggled closer.

Loki led you from the Long Hall where the King held her council, and decoration, meetings to the lone pub in the village. Val had commiserated on the necessary building of some restaurants and a hotel on the edge of the village to accommodate the increasing number of tourists, but the pub remained solely for the Asgardians, their visitors, and no one else. You had a feeling there was some sort of spell or enchantment that made it invisible to the tourists that passed by the windows, but you’d never felt the need to ask when the welcome was always so warm for you. 

At the entrance, Loki held the door for you, whisking away your coat in a flurry of magic and ice cold wind. Beyond the bar was already bustling with laughter and bodies, each hand raised in greeting as you both passed, some muttering “your highness” still, unable to lose their deference. 

“Evening,” Loki shook hands politely with some and patted others on the shoulder, leading you to a booth by the window already occupied by Thor, beside him was a slender woman with dark brown hair and delicate features, tapping on a table and trying to show Thor something while he shuffled closer. Every time he moved, the woman moved away, just slightly, but you didn’t need to read their body language to know this was not a couple that’d last, you felt it deep inside, like an instinct. 

Loki stopped and coughed loudly, “good evening, brother.” He smirked at Thor’s blush. 

“Good evening, Loki.” Thor replied, stiffly, “good evening, Trouble.” He stood and crushed you into a hug, startling you out of your thoughts. “Let me introduce you to my-” 

“Friend,” the woman interrupted, “Jane Foster, it’s lovely to meet you.” She smiled, shaking your hand, and scooched over enough to make space for you both on the bench seat. But as you looked at her, you could sense there was more. Images of her and Thor rose unbidden in your mind, and that golden thread of connection still hung between them, slack and dim, but still there in your mind’s eye. Interesting. 

“I’m Estrid,” the name still didn’t feel right, and you’d suggested to some of the others they could use your old name as a sort of nickname, but it hadn’t stuck, not with Loki around. 

“Princess Estrid,” he said, proudly, draping a protective arm around the back of the seat and rubbing his thumb against your shoulder. 

“Well I sure Jane doesn’t care about all of that,” you smiled at her, and she smiled back, but before you could say anything else Thor had reached over the table and tapped a large finger on the wood. 

“Doctor Jane, she’s a Doctor.”

“Yes, well, I’m sure Estrid doesn’t care about all that either,” she pushed his hand away, “I’m really pleased to meet you, Thor’s told me all about you and, well, I’ve got some experience with Asgardian nonsense too. It’s good to meet you, is what I was trying to say, and maybe I could read your electromagnetic impulses some time, if that’s okay?” Jane rushed her words out, the tablet clutched in one hand, her eyes twinkling with excitement. 

“I don’t know about that,” Loki squeezed your shoulder.

“I’m sure it’ll be fine, Loki, don’t worry about it. I’d be happy for you to read my electromagnetic impulses, I think -”

The bar tender set down a tray of glasses, a tankard of ale for Thor, a glass of aged fifteen year old whiskey for Loki and a bottle of chilled white wine with two glasses. 

“Loki, Thor,” the bartender nodded at them both, polite, but without the obsessive reverential treatment of the older Asgardians. “Princess,” you smiled back and thanked him.

“Doctor!” Thor tapped his finger again. 

“My apologies, Doctor Foster,” he stammered, retreating to the bar. 

“God he’s so embarrassing, I’m so sorry.” Jane turned to you, ignoring Thor’s aghast expression and opening the wine, “I’ll pour.”

Safe in the knowledge that you and Jane were perfectly able to handle yourselves, Thor and Loki took a polite turn around the bar, speaking with the villagers and their friends in turn. 

After the first bottle, Brunnhilde appeared, signalling for the bartender for three more drinks and joining you and Jane in your booth. 

“I don’t know how you both put up with those two.” She said, sliding into the seat, a bottle of wine in one hand and mead in the other. 

You hadn’t realised how lovesick your sigh was until Brunnhilde laughed, shaking your shoulder, “sorry,” you blinked a few times, tearing yourself away from the sight of Loki half bent over a cards table a few feet away. His black jeans were pulled tight around the curve of his thighs and you just knew if he turned you’d be able to see the outline of every wonderful inch of him hidden beneath. He’d discarded his aran sweater when the fire had roared to life at the edge of the room, leaving him in a forest green shirt, rolled up to his elbows. As he moved you watched as the veins in his hands became more pronounced, gliding your gaze up to his broad shoulders and the black curls that fell over his face when he laughed. 

It wasn’t just that he looked good enough to eat, he also looked happy, rested and content, his friends around him and purpose every day. He gave you purpose too, joining in the council activities and practising your magic.

“Hate to break it to you, B’, but I don’t put up with him anymore.” Jane said, sadly. 

“What? I thought you two were-” you hesitated to elaborate and Jane took pity on you. 

“We broke up, it just wasn’t working. But I’d already agreed to spend the Solstice and Yule here, so - maybe it was a stupid idea.” 

“No, no-” Brunnhilde pulled her into a hug and it occurred to you that they probably already knew each other, if Thor had brought her here before. “You’re always welcome in Asgard.” The King winked and Jane blushed. 

“I’m sorry - that things didn’t work - I didn’t mean,” you stammered acutely aware that this was now a reunion of friends and you knew nothing about them. “I can go, if you want to talk and catch up-” 

“No, stay, please.” Jane smiled a lot, there was always something in the corner of her lips, wanting to be happy, but this smile was softer so you sat back down. “Now, tell me what it’s like having fire magic.” 

The wine, beer and mead flowed freely in the tavern that night, every villager in their cups excited for the celebrations to come. At midnight you decided to head home, passing Loki on your way to the door, he slung an arm around your hips, pulling you to his side. 

“I’m going to stay awhile, my darling, if you don’t mind,” he looked up at you from his cards table, his blue eyes like sparkling frost in the firelight, and you bent to kiss his quickly. 

“I don’t mind, handsome, you stay.” You ran a hand through the errant curls that had formed in the warm atmosphere. 

“Are you walking with someone?” Despite the many empty glasses spread across the table, he was still alert and concerned, scanning the pub for any danger. You both bore the memory of your kidnapping, a sense of fear when you were alone without anyone, despite being stronger now. 

“B’ is going home too, Jane is staying in the rooms at the back, but Thor said he’d see me home if you wanted to stay.” 

At the sound of his name Thor thundered towards you both, clapping a hand on your shoulder and giving you a little shake. You could almost feel the wine sloshing inside of you and you patted his fingers, hoping he’d stop. 

“Fear not, brother, I can escort the maidens home.” Thor bowed theatrically, behind him Jane and Brunnhilde snorted with unrestrained laughter and you couldn’t help joining in. 

“Very well, take care of my Asynja,” he tugged you down and kissed you again, the taste of whisky and honey dancing on his tongue as he deepened the kiss. 

“That’s enough, either let her leave or walk her yourself.” Brunnhilde gave you a shove, waving behind her as Loki turned back to his game. 

You were happy to let him stay, pleased to see he’d taken up new friendships since you’d both become so settled. You’d miss falling asleep next to him, but you knew he’d be home soon and you needed your bed immediately, your head was already swimming. 

Jane left your party first, taking the steep steps at the back of the tavern to the rooms above. You’d offered her your spare room tomorrow, but tonight just thinking about removing your makeup and brushing your teeth seemed too much, making the spare bed was unimaginable. 

The King took the side street behind the Long Hall, waving goodnight as you and Thor made your way to Loki’s cottage. You’d left a light on above the door and it illuminated the wreath you’d made and hung there earlier in the week. 

Opening the door the soft scent of cinnamon and pine drifted into the crisp night and Thor once more embraced your arm. 

“Estrid,” he looked down at you, suddenly very serious, even the way he said that name held a gravitas that gave you goosebumps. 

“Yes?” 

“Thank you,” he smiled, pulling you into a bear hug and squeezing you tight. 

“What for?” You laughed, trying to squirm free. 

“For making your home here, for trusting Loki and I. I have seldom seen him as happy as when he’s with you. I’m glad to have you here, Trouble.” He ruffled your hair playfully, his own drinking catching up to him. “May you be here for many more celebrations.” 

“Well, thank you for welcoming me, Thor.” This time you lifted your arms and wrapped them around his neck, hugging him back, and he lifted you off the ground, shaking you from side to side until you were both crying with laughter. “I think -” you hiccuped, “I think we should both go to bed and sleep. Lots to do tomorrow.” 

“Yes, yes,” he wiped a tear from his eye, “I must fight Loki tomorrow.” 

“What?” In your bewilderment you couldn’t stop laughing.

“Oh not truly fight him. But we must pretend to fight, so I can beat winter and spring will come again. Have no fear, I shall return your beloved to you unharmed.” And with that he patted your back and wandered into the village, humming to himself. He tripped slightly on the decorations that had appeared along the harbour as you’d drunk. With a happy giggle he danced around the wreath and meandered back to his own home. 

Across the harbour there was a flicker in the window of the now abandoned harbour master’s house and Steve sat back on his haunches. 

“He hasn’t left that bar,” he groused, rubbing the arms of his stealth suit against the cold of the night. “But she seems safe, Thor is here as well.”

Next to him, Tony turned the heater of his suit up, “of course he is, I’ve never met a worse double agent in my life.” 

“He’s hardly a double agent, he’s loyal to his brother, I can’t exactly blame him for not following orders.” He thought of his best friend, safely tucked up in the compound with his budding relationship with Natasha to distract him. He knew what it was to choose loyalty over command. 

“Well, he’s not on our side. We just have to get him alone and then we can lock him up and forget about it.” Tony leant back on the creaking wicker chair. 

“You said we'd do this properly.” 

“Yes, yes, whatever you need to help you sleep at night Spangles.” Tony waved his hand, the gauntlet of his suit catching the faint light. 

The little house had stood empty since the it’s two inhabitants had been arrested by the King of Asgard and her guards. It had been damp and cold enough before then, but now the frost lay thick on the inside, as well as the outside, of the small windows and Steve was jealous of Tony’s heating system, the soldier rubbed his hands together. 

“Let's just be quick.”

“Wouldn't want you becoming a Capsicle again.” 

Across the bay the tavern door opened again and a square of warm light cut across the black cobbles. In the doorway a familiar figure filled the space leaving a silhouette of his lean body dancing on the ground as he waved drunkenly behind him. 

“Let’s go.” Steve ordered, pulling the dark cowl of his suit over his head. 

<< Chapter 17

Chapter 19>>

[hey-august]

Lil sweet and angsty. I guess that's bittersweet.

WC: ~780

Warnings: NSFW, mdni, buggy x GN!reader, insertion sex.

buggy woke up first. he usually does on days like this.

you didn’t wake up to an empty bed or a cold spot. your bed was sized just for you, so it was either full with just you, or overflowing when the pirate visited. what you woke up to was normalcy that felt uncomfortable. having spent the entire weekend sharing your sheets with the visiting captain, it felt wrong to have the bed all to yourself.

you found buggy in his usual spot. he sat on the window bench, overlooking the harbor. loosely draped in your purple robe, he watched the colors of his ship change in the misty sunrise.

hearing your soft footsteps, buggy swung one leg off the bench. you nestled in the space between his legs and leaned back. you could feel his heat through the thin fabric of the shirt you tossed on. it was his shirt. sometimes you’d wish he would leave one behind.

buggy pressed his cheek against your temple and started humming softly. a nameless sea shanty, one of the countless odes to the sea he knew. the song poured into your head and heart, reverberating through your chest and his. the tune was nearly familiar, but just out of your grasp. like buggy.

the harbor was still asleep, but it wouldn’t stay like that for long. you wouldn’t stay like this for long.

“it’s almost time again, huh?” you speak softly, trying to hide the words under his humming.

he nods against your head. “mm-hmm,” is how his song ends.

you twist your head and body, wanting a taste of the ocean he sings about. a taste you find on his lips and tongue.

to buggy, you taste real and lasting. you fill his mouth. your breath fills his lungs. he place a hand on your cheek, holding you like a goblet brimming with an elixir that he wants all for himself.

and you always give yourself to him. no matter how many times the sun rises while the pirate is on his adventures - when he’s here, you belong to him.

“please,” you whisper against his lips. the start of questions neither of you will ask. instead, you both pretend it’s another question, one that can be solved with a temporary solution.

buggy breaks the kiss. and then he kisses you again. he tries to stop, but can’t. not as long as you’re in his arms.

with the next separation, you pull away.

this time, buggy asks the question. “please…”

you turn to straddle the pirate. he shifts below you and guides your hips until you slot together. like it’s meant to be. the fullness reaches your chest and leaves you breathless. you sway with the throbbing movement that ebbs and flows inside.

buggy presses his forehead against yours and rolls his hips in time with your breathing. he orchestrates your sounds, building a slow cresendo that fills his ears. it’s beautiful and he wants to take from the source.

your lips are captured in a kiss that is rough and gentle. bruising and soothing. he bites your bottom lip and caresses it with his tongue. he’s greedy, pressing into you until he’s nearly pushing you away. a passion you love, but also fear.

you feed into the fire. placing hands on shoulders that the robe fell off of long ago, you grind against the pirate. you ride the wild waves of his ocean as he pours his own moans into you. 

his hands slip up the loose shirt you wear, seeking more of your warmth and heat. buggy rests his head on your shoulder and clings to you. whether he wants to keep you in place, or to tether himself to you is unknown. he just needs to hold you as he unravels.

you feel him shudder as his movements grow erratic.

“m’gonna- gonna,” he stutters, unable to finish the words before he’s overcome.

“fuuuuuck,” he hisses, pressing his face against your neck. buggy holds you tighter, pushing you down on his pulsing hardness until he’s dripping out of you. 

“n-need you to come. please…”  

such a simple request, yet it’s your undoing. you shake under those words, clenching and holding them tight until you tremble and see stars.

your bliss is what buggy asked for, but there is another question that will remain ignored. in a few hours, the captain will sail away with his ship, and you will lay alone in your small bed. 

buggy won’t ask you to come with him and you won’t ask him to stay. that’s just the way it is. 

but the next time he’s here, it’s for you. it always is.

[fiyaa-xoxo]

Theres something different about receiving a handwritten letter......

✧˚ · .Spring has sprung as the NCR students walk through out the NRC campus. With spring here and the flowers blooming, and most important of all valentines day right around the corner. NRC launches lockers for students to anonymously give someone something for valentines day. Surprise, Surprise the prefects locker was the one with the most letters. Lets see what some of them wrote, will u find out who wrote what?....

From: A crimson flower...

My Crimson Rose,

In this whimsical realm where time dances to its own curious tune, I find myself enchanted by the notion of Happy Unbirthdays and the delightful chaos that ensues in the shadow of the Queen of Hearts. It is within this peculiar Wonderland that our paths have crossed, and my heart, typically bound by the rigidity of rules, has succumbed to the joyful mayhem of your presence.

Oh, how the tea parties unfold in blissful disorder, each cup raised in celebration of the nonsensical day that is every day but one! The Queen of Hearts, with her regal decree and whimsical demands, presides over these gatherings where laughter echoes like the most harmonious of melodies. In the mirthful company of jesters and creatures, our souls intertwine, and the rules of reality bow to the capricious whims of Wonderland.

As the Queen commands the cards to paint the roses red, I am reminded that the essence of love in this fantastical realm is as unpredictable as the ever-changing hues of Wonderland's flora. In the intricate dance of courtly affections, I find myself waltzing with you, my partner in this splendid, topsy-turvy masquerade.

From: An Inky Dealer...

And so, my heart, once bound by the rigid laws of reason, now surrenders to the whimsy of Wonderland and the joyful rebellion that accompanies it. With every unbirthday tea party we share, I am reminded that true happiness lies not in conformity but in the enchanting chaos of love.

To my Siren,

As the currents of fate weave through the whimsical waters of Twisted Wonderland, I find myself drawn to you like a siren's call echoing in the depths of the Monstro Lounge. In this ocean of magical mayhem, your presence is a beacon that lights up the darkest corners of my heart.

The glittering allure of Ursula's domain mirrors the shimmering depths of the feelings that swirl within me. Much like the ebb and flow of the tides, our connection resonates with a rhythm that transcends the ordinary cadence of everyday life.

In the enchanting embrace of the Monstro Lounge, where secrets are exchanged like treasures and laughter dances upon the waves of conversation, I am captivated by the spell you cast upon my existence. Ursula's wisdom echoes in the whispers of our shared moments, and I am reminded that love, much like the sea, holds depths yet to be explored.

So, let this letter be a testament to the enchantment you bring into my life, a tale woven with threads of magic and mystery. In the embrace of Ursula's sanctuary and the symphony of the Monstro Lounge, my heart finds its rhythm in harmony with yours.

From: The oasis in the hot sands...

Dear, sunshine

With the boundless energy of a desert breeze, my affection for you grows, and the tapestry of our shared moments becomes a mosaic of joy and laughter. Your smile, a treasure more precious than any gem in the sands, illuminates my world with unparalleled warmth.

In the vibrant oasis of love, I find solace in the melody of our shared laughter and the dance of our dreams under the twinkling stars. With each passing day, my heart beats in rhythm with the magic you bring into my life.

So, let this be a simple testament to the love that blossoms like a desert rose within my chest—a love as boundless as the endless sands of Twisted Wonderland.

From: A loyal knight

My dearest Everglow,

Amidst the tapestry of my own existence, I pledge my loyalty to you with the same unwavering devotion that I offer to the illustrious Malleus Draconia. To serve him is an honor, and in his guidance, my loyalty becomes an intricate dance—a choreography of duty and affection.

In this realm where loyalty is both a shield and a key, my heart beats with the rhythm of a promise made not just in service but in love. Your understanding gaze, a refuge in the labyrinth of obligations, is a testament to the deep connection that transcends the boundaries of duty.

So, let this be a tender acknowledgment of the magic that binds me to both my fae heritage and the loyalty I extend to you and Malleus—a love letter written with the ink of allegiance and sealed with the embrace of my heart.

Writers note: Hello everyone! Were u able to find out who's who? Let me know if u want more writings like this!

Requests are open!! ^^

───────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆──────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆────────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆──

[ddarker-dreams]

Hello lock <3

Today I bring you Yan Scaramouche with darling who keeps poking at the electro mark on his back, right above his shoulder blades. Poking it with a finger is bound to get you zapped a little painfully with a grumble from scara of how insolent you're acting with a divine being. However, a kiss on the mark somehow doesn't do anything. The zap was on purpose, wasn't it?

Do with this information what you will. I have converted to a Scara enjoyer

hi zuri!!!

SCARACHU AGENDA YES!!!!!!!!!!!!!

him and his little zaps. he's probably scrubbed the skin of his nape raw, hoping that it might erase the proof of the divinity fate has doomed him incapable of achieving, only this desperation never worked. it's a sensitive spot and subject. he snickers at you demanding privacy if you wish to get changed when he's around, yet for the longest time, slinks off elsewhere when he has to. don't mistaken this as the behavior of a prude. scara wants you to exalt him, to consider him a being worthy of your praise and infinite adoration, so the mark threatens this esteemed image. bitterly, he'll liken it to the trademark details blacksmiths etch onto the weapons they forge, as proof that they were the ones who created it.

this due diligence cannot last forever. eventually, you happen to spot the electro mark, much to his chagrin. what a grating pest you are, buzzing around with your questions as he tries to wave you off. you've always been irritatingly persistent about how he can channel elemental energy without a vision — he'd pridefully remark that it's proof he's of superior quality compared to mortals, who must have power bestowed upon them — but this never sat right with you. who is your oppressor, exactly? or, to be more specific, what is he? he freely gloats that he's (essentially) immortal, but from what you can tell, he isn't a youkai, adepti, or any other mystical being that should have such a long lifespan. it's very perplexing. while he normally enjoys conversing with you, he closes up like a clam whenever you approach this taboo topic.

eventually, you will get to learn the full extent of his story. for the time being, your pointer finger traces the lilac lines, following the ebb and flow. should you linger for too long, then expect a warning buzz. it's reminiscent of getting shocked by metal from static electricity. enough to ward you off, by his estimation. except it doesn't, because the one he's chosen to give his adoration to is nothing if not tenacious. every synthetic fiber in his body goes taut when impishness leads you to brush your lips against the nape of his neck. his voice raises in pitch as he demands to know what you're doing, acting brazen like you're the one in charge here and not him.

(he says that as if you both don't know that he's under your thrall, beneath all the posturing).