#the one on the right (if the flower hadn't gave it away already)

[valkyrie-of-the-rising-sun]

the two cresselias of the chroniclerverse :3

[alotofpockets]

Unknown | Alessia Russo

Pairing: Alessia Russo x Actress!Reader

Summary: You get a flower delivery but the bouquet isn't from who you thought it was.

Warnings: Angst (happy ending), stalker fan.

Masterlist | Woso masterlist | Words: 2k

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You were busy rehearsing lines for tomorrow when your doorbell rang. On the other side of the door stood a delivery person with a bouquet of flowers in their hands. “Thank you, have a good day.” You say when taking the flowers from them. The flowers were absolutely beautiful, you find the tag, which reads a simple ‘I love you x’, your heart warms at the thought of your girlfriend thinking of you while she’s away. 

Alessia was attending an award show on the other side of the country, and her management had arranged for a few interviews surrounding it, making her trip three days instead of leaving the same day again. Usually you’d be Alessia’s plus one to events, as would she for you, but this time you weren’t able to. You were in the middle of filming your new project that was being filmed in London, so you were able to stay at your own place for the duration.

You were about to leave for work when you found out that your car wasn't starting. In frustration you hit the steering wheel, you couldn't be late for this shoot. You text Lotte, hoping that the usual early bird is awake already.

Y/n: Heyy, are you up already?

Alessia’s teammates had become your friends over the two years that you had been dating.

Lotte: Yeah, what's up?

The girl responded within a minute.

Y/n: Is there any way you can drive me to work like right now? My car isn't starting and I have to be there in an hour.

Lotte: Yes, I've got you. I'll be there in ten.

You head back inside, deciding on having a quick breakfast at home, instead of having breakfast on set to save you some time. 

With a knock on the door Lotte announced that she was there, you let her in to offer her a cup of coffee while you finished your breakfast. “Thank you so much for doing this.” She gives you a side hug, “Of course, no problem at all.” She sits down at the counter and looks over at the flowers. “Less?” She asks and you nod with a smile, “So sweet, right?”

Lotte dropped you off at work and told you to call her when you needed a ride back. “Thanks again, Lotte, I owe you one.” 

You hadn't gotten the chance to talk to Alessia yet, when you weren't filming she was in interviews. But it was a good day of shooting, you managed to get two scenes done today like how the crew had planned. You gave Lotte a call, before you changed out of your character's clothes back into your own.

“You're a lifesaver, Lotte.” You say as you step into her car. “Do you have dinner plans tonight? If not, can I please invite you over as a thank you?” Lotte accepted your invitation but made sure to let you know that it wasn't necessary as a thank you but she'd love the company. The two of you were so deep in conversation when you arrived back at your apartment, that you didn't notice that Alessia’s car was parked in the lot. 

Once you get into your apartment, you notice a familiar pair of shoes standing next to your door. “Lessi, baby, you're back early?” You ask full of enthusiasm, but you're met with silence. It's only when you walk into the kitchen that you see her, she looks both angry and upset. “Who are these from?” Your brow furrows, “What do you mean who are they from? Are they not from you?” Alessia stands to her feet, “I didn't, so please don't fool me.” 

Lotte who had been quietly standing in the background speaks up, “I know it's none of my business but Less, this morning y/n was happily telling me the flowers were from you.” Alessia looks between the two of you. “And what exactly are you doing here?” You step in now, realising that Alessia might be thinking the flowers were from Lotte. “My car broke down, and Lotte is the only person I know that's awake early enough for my set times, so I asked her to drive me to work.” 

Alessia seemed to calm down, and believed what you were telling her. “Why would someone randomly send flowers without signing their name?” You shrug, “I have no clue, maybe someone left the wrong address or something. Let’s just leave it behind us, I want to know how your event went.” The three of you prepare dinner, and talk the rest of the evening.

Everything seemed to be back to usual, until a couple days later a box of chocolates was delivered to you on set. The handwriting on the note matched the one on the bouquet, a cold chill ran down your spine when the realisation hit that this wasn't just coincidental but that there was someone out there that knew where you lived, and when you would be on set.

Your first thought was to video call your girlfriend. After pressing the call button, you start pacing your trailer. “Hi my love, is everything alright?” She could read on your face that something was troubling you. “Less, the flowers, it wasn't a coincidence. They delivered something here addressed to me.” Alessia was furious but stayed calm for you. “Okay, here's what we're going to do. I'm coming over right now, and we'll talk to security at the set, make sure no strangers or packages are to be accepted. Then once you're done with work I’m taking you back to my place. I've got you, okay?” You nod. “Thank you, baby.” 

Alessia stayed on the call with you until she arrived at your set and had her eyes on you. You ran into her arms, and she held you tight. “It's okay, you're okay.” She whispered to calm you down. “I know but it's just so scary that they know where I live and where I work.” With a nod she let you know that she understood your worries. “Do you have time to talk to security now or do you need to head back?” You look at your phone, “I've got about fifteen minutes before I have to get back. Can we please talk to them first?” 

She took your hand, and explained to the head of security what was going on. He assured you that they would make sure that they would keep you safe, and even offered for someone to walk you back to your car, just to be sure. You thanked him, before making your way over to the set.

The rest of your work day you were able to put the worrying to the back of your mind, knowing that Alessia was here and the security team was aware of the situation. It was later that evening, in Alessia's apartment when the worrying started to come back. “They know where I live. What if I go back to my apartment and they're just there? What am I supposed to do?” Alessia held you through your worries. “We're going to figure something out, my love.” 

You didn't get much sleep that night but with an early call again, you made your way to the car. As promised a security guard escorted you from your car to your trailer, which you were grateful for. During hair and makeup, you were more quiet than usual, being too tired to use your energy for socialising. 

The day was going fine, until you heard commotion coming from outside your trailer. You open the trailer door to see if everything was alright, only to find a man trying to get through security screaming your name. “Y/n! You haven’t been home all week, I had to come see you at work. Please come y/n, I need to see you.” You’re frozen in place at the top of the small stairs. “Get back inside, we've got this.” The security called over his shoulder. You closed the door behind you and leaned your back against it. 

Alessia had explained the previous encounters you had with her teammates, everyone had been very supportive and said that if you needed anything they were there for you. She was in the gym with them, when her phone rang, your name on the display. You knew each other's schedules very well, so she knew that if you were calling during her training times something was wrong.

She snapped out of her shocked state, and answered the phone. “Y/n, wh-” She didn't get further than that as you interrupted her between sobs. “He's here” Alessia's worry grows. “Here as in on set?” Her words caught the attention of their teammates, who all stopped what they were doing. “He's next to my trailer, security is trying to keep him back.” Alessia got up and started gathering her stuff, “I'm on my way. I can stay on the phone, if you’d like.” You shake your head, “I'm okay, you focus on driving please.”

The small group of her teammates that were in the same part of the gym, had all grabbed their stuff as well and followed Alessia to the locker room. “We're not letting you go alone.” Katie said, Lotte, Caitlin, and Leah nod agreement. 

They arrived and saw a parking lot filled with police cars, and saw two officers walk a man to the car in handcuffs. Alessia was so angry that she wanted to run up to him, she didn't know what she would do but thanks to Katie holding her back, she wouldn't have to. 

The group walked up to the security guard securing the entrance. Alessia holds up her visiting badge, he nods in approval, “What about the rest of you?” Alessia speaks up for them, “They're with me. We're here for y/n y/l/n, she's my girlfriend.” He shakes his head, “I'm sorry miss but I can't let anyone in without permission.” That's when Alessia sees the head of security, “Paul! Can you come here for a second?” He rushes towards Alessia, “Miss Russo, I'm so sorry for what happened. I will get to the bottom of how he got in, you have my word.” Alessia shakes her head, “Thank you, Paul. For now, can you get my friends in?” He tells the other security guard to let them through and escort them to your trailer.

You see the familiar Arsenal training kits in the corner of your eyes while you’re giving your statement to the police. “Excuse me, can you give me one moment?” The officer looks over her shoulder, and nods. You run towards Alessia and let her wrap her arms around you tightly, as your head is pressed into her chest. Once you’ve had your moment of comfort, you step away from her and say a quick hello to the rest of the girls. “I need to finish giving my statement, you can wait in my trailer if you want to.” You point toward the one that is your. Alessia tells the girls to go ahead, while she stays near you. 

Once the officer was done with your statement, Alessia wrapped her arm around your shoulder and placed a kiss on your temple. “Let’s go inside, my love.” You told the girls what happened, and they tell you that they saw him being put into the back of a police car in handcuffs, which honestly made you feel a bit better. 

Alessia was focussed on one part of your story, the fact that he had said he needed to come to your work since you hadn’t been home. That meant that he had been spying on your house, and also didn’t know where you had been staying. “Hey, love, I know it’s under the worst circumstances ever, but I have loved living with you over the last couple of days, and I was wondering if maybe you wanted to move in with me, like permanently.” Your smile grew, “Yes, I would love to. It’s been so great to come home to you.” Alessia brings you in for a hug, as your trailer fills with aw’s. 

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[paper-daisy]

Like many of us I'm doing a TWD rewatch, looking for all those pre-relationship moments, and a great little one in 4x01 is after Michonne arrives back at the prison -- there's a moment where Daryl tells her "Glad to see you're in one piece." HOWEVER, when he says that he turns to look directly at Rick. Who in turn quickly looks away, almost bashful.

You can just imagine what Daryl had to put up with, with Rick in those early days. So I had to fic it.

Rick never said the words aloud. He never outright said, "I'm worried about Michonne. I hope she's okay. I hope she comes back." He was never that obvious. But to someone like Daryl, a man naturally of few words himself, it was clear as day that their fearless leader was never fully relaxed whenever that smartass/badass - who was more than capable of taking care of herself - wasn't safely tucked away behind their walls.

But what Rick would say when she was gone was - "There was a herd moving south, right?" Where Michonne had last gone hung unspoken between them. And when Daryl answered Yeah, Rick would just place his hands on his hips and nod, jaw tight, as he scanned the perimeter of the compound as if waiting for someone to magically appear.

He would say - "There's a lot more bandits out there, roaming in packs. Isn't that what you said?" A grunt and a shrug from Daryl, and Rick would nod like they'd just had a conversation and go back to his farming, digging the shovel into the dirt with a bit more force than necessary, making a point to not look at the fence. They hadn't heard from Michonne in two weeks.

He would say - "Nights are getting cold," while standing outside at the communal kitchen, plate in hand, his gaze always drawn to the barely visable fence line. Daryl had hummed in agreement, fighting the urge to tell him that Michonne should be fine as she had pilfered his poncho, something Rick already knew.

And on one strange occasion he said, "Do you think we should get some more ... art? In here?"

This had stopped Daryl in his tracks. "What?"

Rick shrugged, perhaps a little sheepishly, but continued. "We have a library, potted flowers, even some toys and things for the kids. This is our home now. Thought ... maybe it could use a bit of ... brightening?"

Daryl just starred blankly. "You want me to, what? Bring back pictures?"

For a moment it looked as if Rick was about to finally say what was actually on his mind, before he instead gave a rueful smile and waved his hand in the air as if to dispel the conversation. "Nah, nah, never mind. It was just a thought."

He walked away, leaving an utterly perplexed Daryl behind who simply shrugged and went on his own way. It was only later that day as he passed by Michonne's empty cell did his eyes fall upon that weird colourful cat thing, the one that looked like it was about to start a fight. It was such a stupid, useless thing but Daryl remembered how Michonne had presented it to him with an air of triumph, as if it was the most gorgeous thing in the world. He didn't get it.

Did Rick really think that if he made the place more art-filled, Michonne might want to hang around longer? he wondered, then immediately dismissed the idea. Well, clearly not because he gave up before he started. Like with other things.

Only once had Daryl said the unsaid thing.

Almost everyone was asleep. Well, Carl was hid under his blankets reading comics and there were low conversational sounds coming from some darkened cell, but for the most part things were quiet.

And they were kept quiet by an exhausted Rick, pacing back and forth with a fussy Judith, bouncing her non-stop so her cries wouldn't awaken the entire community. He'd nodded to Daryl, who in turn took a moment to ask if he needed help putting Judith to sleep tonight.

"No, thankyou" said Rick tiredly. "I think she's pretty much worn herself out by now. Should be sound asleep soon."

"You too."

Rick sighed. "Yeah. I just ..." He shifted Judith a little, "Even when I do get to bed, I can't seem to stop thinking. Thinking of plans for the future, for the people we have in here. The people we bring in. How to protect everyone inside these walls. Keep our people safe despite ... well, despite everything." Rick looked at Daryl as if he might have the answers to those questions he hadn't quite asked.

All he could do was shrug. "We just try. Trust that we all know what we're doing. Lookout for everyone here. Not much more we can do, is there? Future don't care about anyone's plans."

Rick didn't look totally reassured, but he still smiled slightly as Daryl's efforts. "Yeah. I just worry, is all."

"I know." And as Daryl passed by he gripped Rick's shoulder and muttered, "Shouldn't worry so much. Michonne'll be back, all in one piece. You'll see."

And the man had the audacity to look confused, stuttering out, "Yeah, I know that, but - but I wasn't talking about Michonne, specifically. I'm not worried about her. She can take care of herself, I know that, and she always comes back, it's just ... with everything ..."

As he trailed off Daryl eyed Rick critically for a moment. He really thinks he's selling it, he thought, before giving a soft grunt that was akin to laughter and wandering off to bed, leaving a somewhat disconcerted Rick behind, gently bouncing a sleeping Judith.

And the very next day who should come riding through the gates but one Michonne, smiling, baring gifts and all in one piece, as Daryl made sure to point out to Rick, who's ears suddenly went bright red as if Michonne might somehow be able to figure out that they'd been taking about her just that night before.

But she didn't notice. She was too caught up in her almost obsessive search for the Governor and already planning her next venture out, unaware of Rick's barely suppressed disappointment or of the sigh that Daryl kept clenched behind his teeth as he tried to subtly talk her out of another long run. It wasn't her who was stuck with Rick and his wordless pining.

Because it was pining, even if he never said nothing. If they were in school Daryl might've suggested he pass her a note.

When she had quickly offered to go back out again with the rest of the scavenging party - even though, as Carl had said wistfully, she'd just got back - and Daryl could do nothing more than give Rick a comforting pat, grimacing slightly as the man's expression said exactly the same thing his son had vocalised.

God, this was going to wear thin soon.

Ah well. Wasn't like they had TV anymore.

[thelov3lybookworm]

To Love and Cakes

Summary: Y/n is the daughter of a flower and gardening tools shop's owner in Velaris. When he gets sick, y/n makes her father take some rest and looks after the small shop herself. But she is new to all this as her father never let her work a day in her life.

One day, as she's looking after the shop, a red haired high fae comes looking for gardening gloves as a gift to someone. Y/n helps him, and learns that he is a frequent customer.

Due to his frequent visits, they soon develop a bond. More than friends, but not lovers.

Yet.

•○●⛦●○•

Tw: i dont think there are any but still, here we go. elain being a sour and jealous mate even though she's been sailing on the elriel ship, a few curse words and all. Can't think of anything else, so let me know if i need to add anything.

A/n: this thing has been in my draft for faxing months. This is, to me, the best work of mine. This is my baby. I LOVED writing this, and I hope you enjoy reading it.

(ps. even if youre not a lucien girlie, try reading it. i have a secret agenda to make every one of you creatures a lucien simp, just like im trying to make @artists-ally a lucien simp)

(also, the scene towards the end where reader is dancing was inspired by one of the fbaa books, if it seemed familiar or you were wondering)

t'is a long one children, Enjoy!

•○🌑○•

As Y/n finished walking around the store, cleaning, she thought back to the morning two days ago.

She had just woken up and was walking towards her father's kitchen for breakfast when she heard it. A cough. She quickened her pace, entering the kitchen to find her father bent over, his body heaving from the coughs.

She rushed to him, helping him to the nearest chair. When she bought him some water, he smiled up at her gratefully.

"How many times do I have to tell you to take some rest, father? Why won't you let me help you?"

"I might be getting old, but not that old that I need to rely on my daughter to help me earn. Unless you are trying to steal my shop?"

"Father!" She said, exasperated, even though she knew he was just saying that to irritate her. "You are staying home till you get better. I'll take care of the shop."

"But you don't know anything about it." At the glare she gave him, he finally conceded. "Let me help for today atleast. Show you how to handle it. I promise I'll rest."

She had come to visit and stay with her father for some days, having just quit her previous job, searching for a new one. They were well off, the house that Y/n lived in owned by her. She had wanted to see if her father needed any help around. Which he didn't. He wasn't very old and ill by any means, he just didn't know when to stop. That's why she had already made her father agree to closing the store earlier and taking the weekends off.

As Y/n put away the cleaning equipment in the back of the store, the bell above the door rang, announcing the arrival of a customer. As she hurried to the front desk, she caught a glimpse of the beautiful male that was waiting from behind a shelf.

He had dark crimson hair cascading over his shoulder that looked like fire, with one russet eye and one that was a golden metal one, which was whirring. A scar marred the skin surrounding that eye and trailed to his jaw.

Y/n quickly averted her gaze when she realised she was staring. He hadn't yet noticed her though, looking around the shop. She stepped out from behind the shelf and cleared her throat.

He turned to her at once, giving her a warm smile.

"Hello. How can I help you today?" She asked with a small smile.

"I'm looking for enchanted gardening gloves."

She wracked her brain for the location of said gloves before perking up. "Right this way." As she led the way, he followed a respectful distance away. To fill the silence, she spoke up. "Are you from Night Court? You don't seem like you're from here."

"Yes. I'm from... Autumn Court." His hesitation was evident, and Y/n didn't push.

"Here we are." She said, stopping in front of the gloves stacked neatly on a shelf. She left him alone when he nodded.

She began sorting out her desk, her father's, really, which was near the entrance to the shop.

By the time she finished, the male was done with his browsing and bought out the gloves to the desk to pay for them. The whole ordeal went silently and quickly. With a word of thanks and a 'good day', he was on his way.

•○🌑○•

Lucien's pov.

He stared at her. His mate.

He wondered if, under other circumstances, she would have not despised him. Could she have ever loved him the way others loved their mates? Would the two of them be together if there was no cruelty in this world?

He answered those himself.

The first one? Probably.

The second one? Maybe.

The third one? No.

Because, if there was no cruelty in this world, his love, one his father had killed, would not be dead. Jesminda would be alive still. And if she was alive, he wouldn't care for anything, even his own mate.

And maybe that made him an asshole, but he couldn't bring himself to care as he stared at Elain smiling at the Shadowsinger from the corner of the room, nursing a glass of whiskey.

He looked around the room, his eyes landing on the gift he'd bought for her. It was enchanted gardening gloves so her hands wouldn't get cut. Of course, the present had been discarded in a corner, unopened. It wasn't as if she didn't notice the gift. No, he had seen her look at it before placing it aside from her other gifts.

He'd seen her do that, and his heart had been pierced by an arrow. At least it felt like it.

As he stared at the gift, his mind drifted to the shop where he had bought it from. The shop run by the female. He didn't know why, but he couldn't stop thinking about her. She hadn't even said much, but she had simply caught his attention.

He blinked when a loud laugh interrupted his thoughts, looking at the inner circle sitting in the center of the room and having the time of their lives, while he sat in the darkest corner he could find. He knew he didn't fit in here, and that most of them didnt trust or like him.

He didn't know why he had accepted Feyre's invitation to stay for the night when he knew he'd be miserable.

He had thought that maybe, just maybe, they would include him in their fun. At least for one night.

He felt so dumb now.

After a little bit of contemplation, he decided it best if he left. No one was going to miss him anyways.

Quietly, he downed the whiskey in his glass, then rolled onto his feet. He set the glass on a nearby table, then turned towards the door. He walked towards it, his boots making no noise.

As he exited the room, there was no sign of the festivities slowing down. None. He removed his coat from the nearby hook, donning it as he stepped out, the door clicking shut behind him.

It wasn't until Lucien was out of the house that the sounds faltered for a brief moment, but then the laughter started back again, and Lucien sighed, his breath misting in front of him. He stared at the little cloud of fog in front of his face.

He didn't want to go home– if it could even be called that– not yet. The night was still young. Maybe he would go on a little walk around Velaris before he returned to the mortal lands.

He started the trek across the city, walking slowly, letting his mind wander, his eyes seeing everything but taking nothing in. It was like a waste of time, looking at the beauty but not caring enough to appreciate it.

He sighed, making his way through the vibrant market place. The children running around the place, candies in their hand, adults lingering around the place with their lovers and families truly added to the beauty of the festival.

But Lucien's eyes were unseeing, his heart unfeeling as he avoided the running and giggling children.

Someone slammed into Lucien from somewhere near him, and that finally broke him out of the haze that he'd been in.

He glanced at the fae leaning against him, trying to gain her footing in the crowded area.

"I am so sorry. I got pushed–" The female looked up at him, finally stable on her feet. She cocked her head, a smile spreading on her lips. "Oh. It's you."

He returned the smile, somehow easier than it should have been considering the foul mood he'd been. "It's me. I don't think I caught your name this morning."

The lady from the gardening shop grinned, her cheeks rosy, glowing with happiness. "Y/n."

"Lucien." He mumbled, studying her. She nodded, holding out her hand. He took it.

Then they stood there, awkwardly trying to figure out what to say. "Um... enjoying solstice?"

"Yeah." She returned, a relieved expression on her face. "Just left the house after dinner. My father said he's going out with some friends, so I decided to head out for some desserts. You?"

"Not really..." That was not the right answer, but Lucien was struggling to put on his mask of indifference.

"Oh. I'm sorry. Are you alone?"

He smiled ruefully as he looked away. "Very."

After a moment of silence, the lady spoke up again. "What are your thoughts on some cake? Pie? Or maybe cookies?"

Lucien blinked, then glanced at her. "What?"

She grinned, turning away and gesturing with her hand to follow her. Seeing that he had no other reason to haunt the streets of Velaris, he followed her.

She weaved in and out of the crowd, walking with purpose towards her destination. She stumbled sometimes, due to being pushed around by the crowd, but mostly by herself. She seemed to have a problem walking without tripping.

She tripped again, so bad that Lucien had to catch her elbow to stop her from faceplanting. She grinned up at him sheepishly.

"Are you alright?"

"Yes."

"Are you... drunk?"

She shrugged and shook her head. "I don't drink. It's taste is disgusting."

A small smirk made is way into Lucien's face, but he simply nodded at her to keep going. She continued on.

Soon, she was walking into a brightly lit shop, cakes and various baked goods displayed through the glass.

"This is my favourite place for sweets and baked items. It's really good."

She went to open the door, but Lucien stretched out his hand and held it for her. She blinked at him before smiling and stepping in to the warm interior.

"Hello." She greeted the kind looking old lady behing the counter, who smiled widely.

"How are you today?"

"I'm good. How about yourself?" Y/n replied.

"I'm good, I'm good. Just these joints creaking a little extra nowadays."

Y/n grinned fondly. "Maybe you should just get some rest, you old hag."

"Oh shut it. I will rest once I know I have succeded in convincing you to get a partner. Mother knows how lonely you must be."

"I'm not lonely, you old hag. As long as I have you and father, I will never be alone."

"Yeah yeah whatever." Then the old female seemed to notice Lucien, and her eyes lit up. "Are you finally seeing someone?"

Y/n blinked, then glanced at Lucien. Her lips parted, then a flush climbed up her neck. She furiously shook her head, and the old lady sighed.

"Well, hope I'm not dead when you finally decide to interact with others." The female bustled away as other people walked upto the counter to place their order.

Y/n turned to Lucien, her face red, and she gestured to the display of sweets. He grinned when she turned away again. "Choose what you would like to try. I always go for pineapple, but chocolate is also good."

Lucien dipped his head in a nod when she glanced at him to make sure he understood her, and then the two of them went on to get their cakes.

As they were about to leave the shop, the owner of the shop called to him. "Psst. Hey! You!"

When Lucien glanced up questioningly, the lady Y/n had been talking to motioned at him to come closer. He inched towards the counter behind which the lady stood as Y/n talked to another one of the workers.

"What are your intentions for her?" The lady hissed at Lucien as soon as she was sure no one could hear her.

Lucien blinked, taken aback. "What?"

"Don't you dare even think of hurting her. Males have hurt her enough. She is a pure soul, and if you hurt her, then I will carve your eyes out with a spoon. You hear me young man?"

Lucien nodded, dumbfounded. Thank the cauldron though, Y/n decided that moment to walk up to the two of them.

The old lady smiled at her, and then shooed Y/n and Lucien away. Y/n rolled her eyes and led Lucien out of the shop.

She crossed the road and settled onto one of the many benches overlooking the Sidra. She patted the place next to her and he obliged, studying her.

"What were you and the old hag talking about?"

"Nothing..."

Y/n raised a brow but stayed silent as she dug into the treat in her hands.

The two of them sat in silence as they ate, staring at the waters of the Sidra.

Unfortunately, soon enough the two of them were done eating, and Y/n turned to Lucien. She smiled. "Did you like the cake?"

Lucien gave her a smile. A genuine one, one that felt like he hadn't smiled in centuries. He probably hadn't.

"I did. Thank you for making my solstice better."

"I enjoyed the time too, no need to thank me."

And then the two of them parted ways, Lucien thanking her again and her telling him not to worry about it.

Lucien watched her until she had vanished between the crowd, then he turned and decided to walk to secluded place before he winnowed back to human lands.

A soft breeze caressed his face, and he closed his eyes, savoring the cool touch. His mind drifted back to Y/n.

He smiled softly, opening his eyes and leaning his head back, staring at the stars twinkling down at him, as if they were winking.

Maybe... just maybe, not all fae were miserable and hateful.

Maybe there was someone out there, like Y/n, who would not hate him for simply existing.

•○🌑○•

Y/n's pov.

Y/n only had one thought in her mind, and that was to hurry up.

She had been out in the market, getting the things she needed according to the cooking book she had recently bought.

She had decided to surprise her best friend since childhood with a home baked cake, and hence the rush to get home and start the preparations.

The catch?

Y/n was shit at baking.

The few times she had tried to bake, she had either ended with something that was too hard to even be called a rock, or with something that vaguely resembled... puke.

Even thinking about it sent shivers up Y/n's spine.

But back then she hadn't used a cookbook's instruction, she tried to reason with the sane part of her brain, the one that knew this was a bad idea.

Hurry up-

And she smacked into a wall. A very warm wall.

All her bags slipped from her hands and onto the ground as she stumbled back, barely keeping herself from falling onto her ass.

She lifted her head to apologise to whoever she had crashed onto when her eyes met russet and gold. Lucien.

She paused as she watched him cock his head, a little smile spreading on his features.

"I seem to notice a pattern, Y/n."

She lifted an eyebrow as she bent to gather her stuff. He followed. "What pattern?"

She tried to shoo him off by waving her hands, but he either didn't notice or didn't care. "You are always crashing into me. That sounds like a pattern to me."

She scowled, knowing that if her father or any of her friends saw her, they would yell at her for being disrespectful to someone who was helping her.

He grinned, glancing at her as he stood, most of her bags in his hands.

"Do you need any help carrying these?" He questioned when she climbed to her feet too, and she blinked.

"Oh no, it's alright. I'll carry them myself. I don't want to bother you."

"I insist. And it's really not a bother. I have nothing else to do. These are really heavy, let me help."

"You really don't have anything else to do?"

He smiled triumphantly, as if he knew he had won. "I don't."

She sighed. "Fine then. My house is nearby. Thank you vey much."

He shook his head, that smile still on his face. "No worries."

She led him to her house, a peaceful silence between the two.

It wasn't long before they reached her house, and she turned to him, keys in her hand.

"Please come in. Let me make you some tea." That was the least she could do for him.

"Oh no, that is unnecessary, I don't want to bother you. It was my pleasure to help."

"I insist. And it really is not a bother." She smirked, throwing his words back at him.

He shook his head, grinning. "Fine."

She let the two of them in, setting about to get some tea ready. "So, may I ask what you are going to with these?"

When Y/n turned to look at him, he gestured at the bags he set on the counter.

"Because from what I saw outside, these things are usually used for baking."

Y/n smiled. "Yeah. It's my friends birthday today. I was thinking of making her a cake."

"That's great. Do you bake often?"

Her smile now turned sheepish. "No. I tried a couple of times, back when I was younger," -six months ago- "and I damn near brought down the whole kitchen once."

Lucien chuckled. "So now you think you can do it properly?"

She picked up the cookbook nearby and waved it at him. "I will follow instructions this time."

Judging by the amusement in his eyes, she thought he would laugh, but he didn't. He simply extended his hand towards her and asked, "Can I have a look?"

She handed it to him, turning to check on the tea she was brewing.

The sound of the pages being flipped were the only sounds other than her pouring the liquid into cups for the two of them.

When she turned back around, she found him staring intensely at the book, his brows furrowed, a downward tilt to his mouth. She tried to make no noise as she set down the cup in front of him, hoping to not disturb his concentration.

But he glanced up at her, frowning. "This won't work. This is too complicated."

Y/n blinked, taken aback by the seriousness in his eyes and words. "What do you mean?"

He closed the book, setting it aside as he pulled the cup of tea towards him. "Baking is simpler than whatever bullshit is given in there."

"You know how to bake?"

"I helped my mother when I was younger."

"And exactly how many years ago was that?"

His eyes narrowed. "How many years since you baked anything?"

That made Y/n shut up.

She sighed ruefully. "Maybe I'm just not supposed to bake."

Lucien shook his head. "I can help."

She glanced at him. "What?"

He shrugged. "I don't have anything else to do anyways. I can help you bake the cake."

"I don't want to bother-"

"Its not a bother. I would love to help."

Y/n smiled behind her cup as she took a sip of her tea, a warmth spreading through her chest.

"Thank you. I appreciate the gesture." Then, she looked at the redhead for a moment longer before turning away. "And you know what? I am noticing a pattern too."

•○🌑○•

After a day filled with trying to decide on the flavour for the cake, the decorations, making the cake and laughter, it was finally time to sleep.

The party had been perfect, so many memories made, and so many things she could think about.

But no matter what, Y/n couldn't stop thinking about him.

She didn't remember the last time she had enjoyed herself so thoroughly around a male, let alone one she knew nothing about.

And as she went to sleep that night, trying not to think of how his eyes twinkled in amusement when she had dropped an egg on the ground- huffing and puffing- she failed to keep that smile off of her face.

•○●⛦●○•

Lucien's pov.

After the day filled with helping her bake, correcting anything she had been doing wrong and watching as happiness spread across her face when the cake came out almost nearly perfect, it was finally time to sleep.

The day had been perfect, a reprieve from the constant ugly thoughts Lucien had about himself. Memories had been made, though unexpected.

But no matter what, Lucien could not stop thinking about her.

He couldn't remember the last time he'd enjoyed himself so thoroughly around someone, let alone someone he barely knew anything about.

And as he went to sleep that night, trying not to think of how she had jumped around and squealed in excitement- so much so that she had nearly burnt herself by the hot pan- Lucien failed to keep that smile off of his face.

•○🌑○•

Y/n's pov.

Soon enough, Y/n learned that the handsome male with the metal eye, Lucien, was the Lucien Vanserra. The youngest son of the High Lord of Autumn Court.

He frequented the shop after that day they spent baking, him and Y/n becoming fast friends. He'd told her that he lived in the human lands with his friends, Jurian and Vassa.

Recently, she had learned that this Jurian he was friends with was the Jurian from the war centuries ago, the powerful human commander, remade by the Cauldron.

Expect Lucien to surprise a four hundred year old fae who thought she could not be surprised about anything anymore.

Y/n shook her head with an exasperated grin, finishing braiding her hair. She had spent the whole afternoon wondering what hairstyle would look good with her dress for her meeting with Lucien, eventually settling for a simple braid. Few strands framed her face, and she thought it looked better than any elaborate hairstyle she could have done.

Even after six months of being friends with him, he never failed to shock her by telling her things about himself.

He had sent a letter in advance that he would be visiting today, and he wanted to meet with her in their favourite cafe before reporting to the High Lord.

She had, of course, agreed. He was the only friend she had other than the female she had baked for, what with her being cooped up in her home with a book in hand when she wasn't working in the nearby jewellery store.

A knock sounded on the door, and Y/n practically flew down the stairs, taking a deep breath to calm her heart before opening the door.

There he stood in all his glory, smiling at her. The fading sunshine made his hair look on fire, his skin glowing.

"My lady. You look quite...dishevelled." He murmured, his eye twinkling. Y/n frowned, lifting her hand to her hair. It had looked good when she checked it in the mirror. Maybe the braid didn't look as good as she thought it did. In which case, she wanted to go and jump off a cliff.

Before her hand could touch her hair though, Lucien caught it, grinning and pressing a kiss to her knuckles, all the while maintaining eye contact. Y/n blushed.

"When I said dishevelled, I meant you look like you've run a mile. That looks exquisite." He said, straightening and flicking her forehead. "You look exquisite."

"Shut up." She mumbled, shoving his shoulder and stepping out, turning to lock the door. When she had finished, she turned to find him leaning against a pillar of the front porch. He smiled and inclined his head towards the road.

They walked towards the cafe, talking about his past days in the human lands and her job at the jewellery store. How she didn't really care for it and was thinking of taking up something else.

They soon reached the cafe which stood right on the banks of the Sidra and had outdoor seating as well in the backyard, right next to the river. As they settled down in their usual seat in a corner right next to the river, her eyes sharpened on the paper stuck on a nearby wall.

"Hey Lucien? Do you see that?" Y/n questioned, making Lucien glance back at it.

"Yeah. Looks like they're hiring." Lucien's eye lit up as he turned back to her. "You should try." She nodded enthusiastically.

Soon, they finished their food and Lucien was waiting to pay, having insisted on paying while Y/n talked to the hotel's owner. She was quite happy Y/n said she wanted to work there. They finally settled on her starting in two days.

After that, as they were walking home, the delicious smell of freshly baked cakes reached them. Y/n grinned at Lucien who took her arm and walked towards the stand where an old lady was selling small round cakes that were the size of Y/n's palm. They made idle conversation with her while she handed them their treats.

"You two make a good couple. Are you mates?" She asked as soon Y/n took a bite. Which was very unfortunate as she immediately choked on it. Lucien patted her back, grinning as he turned to the lady.

"No, we aren't mates. We're just friends."

"What a shame. But maybe the bond hasn't made itself known yet?"

Lucien shook his head with a sad smile. "That would've been wonderful, really." Y/n's had whipped to him, her eyes wide. Did he just say what she thought he did? Could it be that he... no. That was stupid. He had a mate that he would die for, regardless of whether she liked him back. He would never...

"But I already have a mate." He continued.

"Oh I'm so sorry then for assuming things."

"Don't be. It's not like it matters anyway. She doesn't want the bond."

"Oh mother, that's truly unfortunate. Maybe you could be with someone else? I loved someone in my youth, but he never paid me any attention. Then one day my friend advised me to forget the male. Now I'm married to my friend and I think I couldn't be any more happy."

Lucien looked thoughtful. "That's a good advice, I must say. And I'll definitely think about it." He winked at Y/n, making her blush furiously.

They continued on after that, though there was silence now compared to their earlier mindless chatter. And it was filled with tension. Y/n wrapped her arms around herself, staring into the waters of the Sidra nearby.

As they walked, her mind wandered to what Lucien had said to the woman. Could he really mean what he had said? He wasn't one to joke about such serious matters... but then again, maybe he was jesting.

Soon, they had reached her house, and she stepped up to open the door.

"You want to come in? We can have some tea..."

Lucien smiled. "I would love to if it's not a problem."

As she set about making the tea, he sat watching her every move. Which made her work extremely carefully, wondering if he was judging her. Which was absurd. Because, not only would Lucien never judge her, but also because she never would have cared for something so trivial as someone judging her. So why did she care now?

Because you lov–

She shut the thought down before it even finished.

•○🌑○•

Lucien's pov.

It had been over a month since he had seen his Y/n, and he was already craving her presence. Initially, he been able to go longer periods without meeting his friend. But as time went on, he became more and more enraptured with her and shorter and shorter became the time period between his visits.

The way she laughed on anything he said. The way her eyes would light up when she looked at him. The way he could make her blush by just looking at her. How she would get excited when taking about the newest book she was reading or when she learned something that made her happy.

He just couldn't get enough of her sometimes. All he wanted to do was stay and bask in her presence.

Of course, it wasn't possible, what with his work of going back and forth between human lands and the Night Court, as well as Day Court, where he had been spending some time getting to know his father.

It was a shock when he found out that Beron wasn't his real father, but he was adjusting. She had a big part in his acceptance. And he was grateful for it.

Now, he was going to leave his emissary duties for the Night Court, going to live in his father's court permanently. Which was why Feyre had decided to have the whole of the inner circle and him go out to eat for dinner. Lucien had suggested the cafe by the Sidra for the ordeal.

The place where Y/n currently worked.

He was smiling at his thoughts of her when he knocked on the door of the River House. Nuala opened it, greeting him with a smile before letting him enter. There was already sounds of chatter coming from the living room as he walked towards it. Everyone was here then. Great.

The quicker this was over, the faster he could spend time with Y/n.

He would leave soon, but that didn't mean he wouldn't come back to Velaris. He had important people here.

He had informed Rhys about his departure a few months ago, and had agreed to stay till they found someone who would be willing to take up the duties of Lucien. They were still searching for someone, so Lucien was still the emissary.

•○●⛦●○•

Lucien tapped his leg on the floor impatiently, his eyes constantly flitting between the tables and booths in search of his friend.

It had only been a few moments since he had arrived with the inner circle, but he simply couldn't wait to catch a glimpse of her.

While he was searching for Y/n, he failed to notice the High lord and lady's, as well as the entire inner circle's eyes on him.

He craned his head, and he finally heard that beautiful voice he'd been dying to hear from behind him.

"Good evening. May I take your order?"

He turned his head so fast he nearly gave himself whiplash, but Lucien didn't care as his eyes met those of Y/n's.

Her mouth lifted at the edges, a knowing look in her eyes as she turned away to converse with Rhysand.

His brain didn't process the words being exchanged between the two, he was so busy admiring her.

And wondering when the damn dinner will be over so he could finally talk to her and catch up.

When she left the table after taking their orders, she distcreetly brushed her hand against his bicep, pulling a smile on his face.

Just an hour or so. He reminded himself as he focused on the table in front of him, ignoring the looks of the inner circle, including Elain.

Which wasn't all that hard.

•○●⛦●○•

The time seemed to pass slower, just to torture Lucien that night.

Right when Lucien was about to loose his patience, everyone had finished dessert, and were on the verge of leaving.

Lucien stood, nodding at Cassian and Azriel in goodbye, hugging Feyre and shaking Rhys's hand. Making some excuse- unconvincing, he was sure- about having to go meet up with Vassa and Jurian, he walked away, eyeing the place Y/n had disappeared into.

He knew that she was about to leave, had probably already left, and he couldn't wait to tell her all the juicy stories he'd acquired over his recent travels, as well as the budding tensions between Vassa and Jurian.

The moment he stepped out onto the road, he heard her voice.

"So desperate to meet me fox boy?"

Lucien smirked, turning to find the owner of the voice leaning against a wall. "You wish."

Her eyebrows lifted as she pushed herself off the wall. "Sure. Didn't seem like it was just my fantasy when you were searching around like an eager puppy."

He grinned, though a flush climbed up his neck at being caught red handed. "Just wanted to see you so I could tell you about Vassa and Jurian."

Y/n grinned, throwing her arms around his neck as she buried her face in his neck. He returned the hug in kind, warming up his body a little through his magic so he could ward off the chill in the air surrounding them.

They stayed in the hug for longer than seemed appropriate, but no one was watching anyways. And neither of them cared if anyone was.

Y/n was the first to pull away, smiling shyly up at Lucien.

"You want to get some cake before we go home?" Y/n questioned, beginning towards the general direction of her home.

"I feel like we should make it ourselves." Lucien wiggled his eyebrows, throwing his arm around her shoulders as they began the trek to her home.

She shook her head slightly, becoming redder by the moment as she grinned softly at her feet.

•○🌑○•

It was solstice tonight.

It had been one not-long-enough year since he'd met Y/n.

Lucien's chest felt lighter than it had been in ages.

They had already found a new emissary who they trusted, and so today was Lucien's last day as a member of the Inner Circle.

He was here today to deliver some reports to Rhys.

The sound of utensils and laughter greeted him as soon as he entered the River house, the inner circle being as loud as ever. But as soon as he stepped foot in the dining room, everything went silent, all eyes turning to him.

He smiled at Feyre, nodding to Rhys and pointing to the papers in his hands. He placed the stack on a table nearby, before nodding again to the rulers of Night and turning away.

"Wait! Where are you going? Come have dinner with us." Lucien looked at Feyre, shaking his head.

He didn't want to stay. Not when all that was going through his head was how he would go up to Y/n's door and knock, and how she would open the door suspiciously, those eyes narrowed. But then she would realise that it was him, and she would fling the door open with squeal, tackling him into a hug, laughing. How when she pulled back, she'd realise she was in her pajamas and would self consciously brush herself down, touching her hair. How–

"Lucien?" Lucien winced, coming back to the present.

"I can't stay. I have to go meet a friend."

"Oh. Did you plan a meeting beforehand?"

"Oh no. She doesn't know I'm here. I'm going to go surprise her."

"She?" A gentle and soft voice intoned. Lucien stiffened. The voice he had wanted to hear acknowledge him ever since the bond snapped for him.

He turned to look at Elain, his brows rising as he took her in. She was standing from her seat next to the shadowsinger, her knuckles white from clenching her fork so tightly. Her brows were furrowed in anger, and she looked murderous.

"Yes..." He didn't really know how to answer the question, so he simply watched her.

Rage entered her eyes. "Is this the female you went with that night when we were out?"

Lucien blinked, wondering what was making Elain so angry. "Yes. Exactly that one."

Elain huffed out a bitter laugh. "So is she trying to steal my mate now? She did look like someone who steals males."

For a moment, no one moved. There was so much silence it was deafening.

Almost everyone was staring between Elain and Lucien, their eyes wide. Except from Amren, of course. Nothing could faze the little devil. And Nyx, who waved around a piece of carrot like a sword.

Lucien smiled slowly. "Glad to know your thoughts on my life, mate. I will let her know of your amazing thoughts about her."

Lucien turned away, walking towards the foyer, but just before he turned out of sight, he glanced back, his eyes meeting Elain's.

"She and I were only ever friends, but now that you've said it, I realise that we never were meant to be friends." Lucien smiled slightly, bowing his head. "Thank you."

And with that, he left, ready to meet with his friend.

•○🌑○•

Y/n's pov.

Her solstice had been normal. Nothing great to do. Her father had gone out drinking with his friends, her friends having been busy with their own families. Even the old hag was busy tending to and celebrating with her brother.

She was sure Lucien would also be busy with something, since he hadn't written to her to let her know of his arrival if he was coming.

That left Y/n alone.

But then suddenly, a knock had sounded on the door, and Y/n's heart had fluttered before even knowing who stood on the other side of the door.

After Lucien told her what was going on with Vassa and Jurian, he began telling her of the events that went down in the High lord's home as she got ready to take a stroll around Velaris with Lucien.

Her blood boiled when she heard of the things Elain said to Lucien, but a smile of reassurance from him was all it took for her to calm down.

They were in the main square of Velaris right now, watching the people dance around the huge fire in the centre.

It had become a tradition in the recent years for the people of the city to come together and dance the night away, laughing and drinking and mingling. It was a wholesome event, where younger people would gather around the old towards the end of the night and simply listen to their tales.

This was the first time Y/n was attending with someone else, as usually she would come here alone and sit next to the elderly, watching as younger couple her age danced around and bonded.

The glow from the fire danced in Lucien's eyes, making it look like there was fire inside those mismatched eyes. There was a relaxed grin on his face, one like she'd never seen before. He seemed so careless now, so free, it made Y/n smile too.

"You're staring." He pointed out, his voice barely audible over the cheers and the faeries singing along.

Y/n blushed, but in a sudden burst of boldness, she spoke, looking away. "It would be a crime not to."

From the periphery of her eyes, she found him gaping at her and had to suppress a triumphant smile.

"You know, I feel like the Mother took extra time making you."

He let out a surprised laugh, the sound lighting fires across Y/n's body.

"All that extra time to make me ruined by a fucking scar."

His tone was light, though Y/n could sense a hint of insecurity and sadness under the joy.

She turned to him, watching as the smile slowly vanished from his face at the look in her eyes.

"You are beautiful, Lucien, scars and all. And if I had the chance, I would show you how beautiful they are to me." She let her hand reach up toward his face, ignoring the heat entering his eyes or the way his pupils dilated as she traced the scar that ended at his jaw.

"Beautiful. So fucking beautiful."

HIs eyes fell shut as the music came to an end, and the people dancing around the fire dispersed for a moment.

"Y/n..." He whispered, his hand reaching up to hold hers against his face.

The music started up again, a soft and slower sound than before, more sensual.

This one was for people who were a couple or in a relationship, just a slow waltz to cool down before everyone again joined in a faster, more traditional dance.

"Dance with me."

The words were a shock to her system, and she nodded without even thinking.

It wasn't until the two of them had begun dancing, her arms wrapped around his broad and strong shoulders, their faces barely inches away, that she remembered that this was a waltz for couples, and she and Lucien were definitely not a couple.

She glanced up at him, his eyes already fixed on her. She opened her mouth to tell him, trying to ignore the warmth against her skin from the fire behind her, his body pressed so close to hers in the front.

"Lucien, this dance is for-"

"I know." He mumbled, his eyes smoldering. "I know." He repeated, making sure she understood.

Suddenly, his arms around her waist became more apparent, the way they rested over her lower back. The way the stray hairs that had escaped his low bun tickled her neck, the way his breath washed over her skin when he exhaled.

Y/n's mind was about to either stop working, or remind her of Lucien's touch every two minutes, and honestly, she didn't know which one she prefered.

He never broke eye contact once during the whole dance.

Soon, but not soon enough, the slow music came to an end. And the people that sat along the outer edge cheered, clapping and demanding the couples kiss. And as all the couples shared that intimate moment, Y/n's heart rate picked up, panic clawing up her throat, feeling so many eyes on her and him, wondering what Lucien would do.

She didn't have to wonder long, though.

Lucien began leaning in, making Y/n's eyes flutter closed. She swallowed, licking her lips.

Then she felt his hot breath closer to her face, his lashes brushing gently against her skin as she felt those plump, beautiful lips on the corner of hers.

She felt him smile against her skin. All the while, it was hard to breathe.

But then he pulled away, a flush on his cheeks. If it was because of the heat of the enormous fire behind her, or because he was genuinely flustered, she couldn't tell.

As the faster music started, Lucien grinned wickedly at her.

"Let's dance, my lady."

•○🌑○•

Y/n's feet were sore, but it was all so worth it.

At some point during the night, she had discarded her shoes next to a kind old male who she had known since she was a child.

All the dances after Y/n and Lucien's initial waltz had been fast paced, where everyone changed partners every few moments. It was one of the best things that had happened that night, getting to know new people and dancing and singing along to the top of their lungs.

It was all so beautiful.

She had always thought so, watching from the sidelines. But now, being one of the people she would have watched, it was a whole different experience.

The dancing was supposed to go on for atleast one more hour before the elders gathered and began telling stories. That would go on for the rest of the night.

And so, Y/n decided to get some rest, maybe somewhere on he benches near the Sidra where it would be quiet before returning to listen to the elder's tales.

Listening to loud music for hours was one way to invite a headache.

Y/n began making her way up to Lucien, who stood on the opposite side of the huge fire, but then she paused, simply admiring him.

He had discarded his embroidered overcoat next to where Y/n had placed her shoes, now only in a simple, thin white shirt that clung to his sweaty frame, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows.

He laughed as he held the hands of a little girl, giving her instructions on how to move. The little girl's tongue poked out of her lips as she concentrated, and Lucien was just as concentrated as her.

Once the current music came to an end, the girl grinned up at Lucien, and he ruffled her hair in return before she ran away, maybe to her friends.

Y/n finally walked up to Lucien, smiling tiredly at him.

"Hello, you."

He smiled back. "Good evening, my lady."

Y/n rolled her eyes at the title. "Shut up."

"Can I not even greet you now?"

"Yeah yeah whatever. I'm going to go sit at a bench, rest a little then return. You coming?"

He nodded, walking over to where his coat lay on the ground. He picked it up along with her shoes then returned.

When she tried to take her shoes from him, he waved her away.

The two of them walked in silence, heading towards the quiet river. Once there, they walked onto the bank and settled down where the place was relatively drier than all other places. Y/n dipped her feet in the cold water, releasing a relieved sigh at the soothing sensation.

Lucien pulled out two packets from the pocket of his coat, tearing open the wrapper and handing one to Y/n. She looked at him, confused.

He simply opened his pack, and then bit into the cake.

"Why do you have these with you?" She questioned, though she began nibbling on the little treat.

He shrugged. "Jurian found these at a bakery in mortal lands a few days ago. I thought you might like it."

She smiled, staring into the water as she slowly chewed.

"The inner circle were in the crowd tonight."

Y/n whipped her head to look at Lucien, but he didn't even seem bothered or interested in talking about the inner circle. He said it so casually, like he was telling her it was night and not day.

After a moment, Y/n spoke. "Was Elain there?"

He nodded, taking a bite of the cake. He took his time chewing before he gave her a response.

"I saw them after the fourth or fifth song. Apparently, they'd been watching since the first song."

Y/n gaped at him.

He glanced at her. "What?"

"Why are you so nonchalant about this?! Your mate saw you dancing with me on a song meant for people involved romantically!"

He blinked, then raised a brow. "And?"

"That might ruin any chances you had with her!"

He shrugged again. "There was never any chance anyway."

"Lucien! You-"

"Look Y/n. It's been long since the bond made itself known. It's been long enough that if she wanted to accept the bond, she would have. And long enough that if she didn't want the bond, she would have rejected it."

"Yes I know but you love her-"

"Let me speak, love. Let me get this off my chest. I never loved her. She didn't give me the chance to. The pull I felt towards her was simply the bond clouding my judgement. The desperation with which I seeked to gain her attention was me simply yearning for happiness. If I had not been so lonely and upset all the time, maybe I wouldn't even have acknowledged the bond if she ignored it too.

"And maybe I am a bastard for that, but I don't know what had gotten over me for the past year or so. I had lost almost all of myself, until you came along.

"You-" Lucien looked at Y/n, his eyes bright "-you made me realise that I did not need another person to make me happy, and that I didn't have to stop being myself for someone to love me. And i will be eternally grateful to you for it."

Y/n shook her head, blinking away the tears that threatened to fall. "Lucien, you deserve to find love. You deserve to have a happy life."

"And I know that now. All because of you."

"But I did nothing." She sniffed, her cake forgotten in her hand.

"You didn't have to. Just simply being my friend and showing me kindness made a significant difference in how I saw myself."

"But what about Elain? What about the bond?"

He smiled. "She can be with anyone she wants now. She wanted to have control over some aspects of her life after having been forced to turn, and honestly, I don't blame her. I would have wanted to do the same if my life had been anything like her."

"And what about you?"

Y/n felt like she knew the answer, but she still wanted to know.

"I do not need a bond to be with someone I love, you know."

"And who is it that you love?"

His smile turned knowing. "You know the answer, don't you?"

"Tell me still. After all, you do love hearing yourself speak."

This was a serious moment, but Y/n felt like if she didn't try to lighten the air by joking, this would become real. And she didn't know if she could handle that.

"I love you, Y/n."

She closed her eyes, telling herself this was not real, that she would wake up soon, and realise this had been a dream. Just like all the times before she had had the dream of being with Lucien and then waking up, all alone in her bed and staring at the ceiling.

But when silence settled around her, him staring at her expectantly, she realised this was no dream.

That someone like Lucien really was in love with someone like her.

She closed her eyes, a tear slipping out of the corner of her eyes. "You don't mean that."

She felt his thumb brushing away the tear a moment before she felt his lips on her cheek. "I do. I am in love with you, my lady. I would do anything to show you how much I love you. To prove to you that I really do."

Her eyes fluttered open, staring into his eyes as he rested his forehead against hers. "Why?"

He chuckled. "What do you mean why? There is not need of a reason for me to love you. I simply love you because you exist."

After a moment, she whispered what she had been dying to scream. "I love you, Lucien. I love you so much."

His smile widened, and he began closing the distance between them. "Then let me be yours."

Just before their lips met, she mumbled. "Be mine."

And her body ignited.

•○●⛦●○•

Her joints were creaking, but the old hag watched, and waited.

She had this primal need to have the little girl she'd watched grow up in front of her eyes find happiness, and she would threaten even the mother if the need arose to make Y/n happy.

But she didn't have to do that, because as she watched, the fire head male leaned in and pressed a kiss to Y/n's lips, and the old hag smiled, giddy with happiness and excitement.

And then she turned away, meaning to hobble back to the solstice celebration in the main square and leave the two younglings to enjoy the night together.

But then she paused, staring at the young female that stared at Y/n and the fire boy she'd fallen in love with.

Slowly, the old hag's brain remembered that this female with soft features and silky hair was the high lady's sister. And in turn, Lucien's mate.

Damn the mother. The old hag cursed, shaking her head.

"Leave them be." The hag ordered the girl in front of her, who turned to her with wide eyes. "They both deserve happiness. Don't you dare think about getting in the way."

The girl in the lilac dress nodded, her eyes becoming watery, but the hag had already begun walking away.

And after a final glance at the giggling couple on the riverbank, the girl turned away, jealousy and relief warring in her chest.

•○●⛦●○•

When Lucien pulled away, his hand still resting on her cheek, she couldn't stop a giggle from escaping. His lips quirked, a little swollen.

"Something funny?"

She shook her head, her cheeks warm as she turned back to the water. "Should we do a toast, my lord?"

He laughed at that, shifting closer to her as he put an arm around her shoulders. "And what will we toast with? We don't have wine or anything."

"We have these cakes." She pointed out.

He lifted his cake into the air. "Alright then. To love!"

Y/n wrinkled her nose. "And cakes!" She said as she raised her hand, and Lucien laughed.

He laughed, and laughed, and laughed.

Carefree and happy.

And Y/n simply watched, admiring.

Loving.

•○🌑○•

Taglist: @bubybubsters @eos-princess @nightless @harrystylesfan2686 @cassie6392

[riverlikethelake]

A Long Way Home pt.3

Aonung x Omatikayan!Fem!Reader    

Summary – You and Ao'nung fail miserably at trying to stay away from each other, unfortunately, that means your parents are quick to notice...

Contains: complex parental relationships, heavy development on platonic/family relationships, fluff, angst, Avatar TWOW spoilers (i feel like thats obvious but wtv)

Word count: 5.8k (I'm a few days late so i panicked a wrote a lot...)

pt.1 pt.2 ... pt.4 pt.5

Will probably do one or two more parts :))

(the song will come in later :) )

You opted out of lessons for the day, honestly you haven’t needed them for a while, you just liked being with the group, but now you and Ao’nung have a facade to keep up. You sat in the Marui weaving the necklace, even though you were frustrated with Neteyam right now, you still wanted to make this.    

You’re sure that these projects shouldn’t take this long, but it was your first one, so you gave yourself some grace.     

"So this is where you’ve been hiding out all day?” You look up to see Lo’ak standing at the entrance. You rolled your eyes, “Yeah, unliked someone, I can afford to miss a few lessons” you teased.    

He threw his side bag at you, causing you to laugh, before he sat down across from you. “Ao’nung looked like a lost puppy without you around” he quipped; you resisted the urge to smile. “And you’re over here pouting like a child.” you rolled your eyes again    

“I am not pouting, I am wishing that you would leave me be.” You kicked at him and he put his hands in the air.    

“All right all right, I won't bother you anymore.” He laughed, dodging your kicks, but you landed one on his chest which pushed him on his back. “You are the meanest sister Y/n” he grumbled as you laughed.    

-    

It was hard to ignore Ao’nung, he was always around, and he did kind of look like a lost puppy... usually you would banter or explore the reef together, but now he stuck with Rotxo and you with Neteyam and Kiri. Stealing glances at each other and finding flowers in ‘out of the ordinary’ places became a routine, as did meeting at the edge of the reef every night.     

You’re sure that your family is growing suspicious of your nightly disappearances by now, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to care.    

Lying on the rocks stargazing with Ao’nung quickly became what you looked forward to everyday. You talked about anything and everything, life in the forest, growing up in the reef, family. Whatever you could talk about, you would.    

“Our parents talked to each other about us.” Ao’nung stated, you sat up and looked at him, confusion splayed across your face. “Apparently, we are a ‘bad influence’ on each other...” he smirked    

Ao’nung stayed lying on his back. You furrowed your brows, “But we haven’t even spoken to each other for days, at least in front of others”    

“Your parents say I've caused you to be too moody” He laughed, you rolled your eyes and smacked his chest.    

“Well, what about you lover boy? What bad influence have I had on you?” you teased, getting close to his face.    

Hs smile dropped and he looked away awkwardly, before you could question it you noticed a dark spot on his cheek. With how dark it was, you hadn't noticed until you were this close. You grabbed his face and turned it to get a better look, he protested but you had already seen it.    

“Ao’nung is this a bruise?” You questioned urgently, you looked him in the eyes, but he kept them averted. You frowned “Ao’nung...” you pleaded.    

He sat up and rubbed the back of his neck, “I uh...” you nodded for him to continue. “Mom and dad say that you’ve caused me to get into too many fights...”    

This was the first you were hearing of this... “What are you talking about?” you moved closer, placing a hand on his bruised cheek “Does this have to do with my brothers?” you asked, ready to chew out the sully that couldn’t butt out of your business.    

“No no it’s not them” he sighed, pausing for a moment. “There were some guys talking about you and Kiri and... well they weren’t being respectful” you didn’t want to know what he meant by that. “I don’t know, I tried to ignore it, but they started asking me questions about you and-” he gestured to his face.     

You frowned and cupped his face in your hands, “Atleast they look worse” he added, amused. You rolled your eyes.    

“You do not have to defend me, we’re supposed to be mad at each other remember?” You sat back and he leaned forward.    

“I know but I couldn’t just let them talk like that about you and your sister...” he was only inches away from your face, you smiled. He went from being what you needed to be defended from from, to being the defender.    

If you had told yourself a year ago that you’d be sneaking around and lying to your family for some boy who almost got your brother killed, she’d be feeding your head to your mothers ikran…   

“Well please be careful next time” you placed a kiss on the bruise “now it's not just my brother against us...”    

He smiled and grabbed your wrists, pulling you forward as he laid back down. You landed on his chest, a chuckle escaping your throat before you nestled into his side, arm wrapped around you. You could hear his heart beating, this was the closest you had ever been, you swore you could have fallen asleep like this.    

-    

You didn’t talk about Spider much, aside from conversations with Kiri and Jake comforting you, it was a touchy subject. Neytiri always tried to hide her scowl when he came up in conversation, Neteyam and Lo’ak didn’t have much to say other than they missed him. It was like he was supposed to be forgotten.    

You knew he wasn’t technically a part of the family, he was raised by the lab guys, but so were you. The more you thought about it, the more it bothered you. Spider was your brother, and they just kind of brushed off your worry about him.    

“He is human. He will be fine” Neytiri would always say. Neteyam and Lo’ak repeating the same sentiment, just more sympathetic and reassuring.     

What If I was the one that got caught?    

You wanted to ask them, but you were scared, of their reaction, their answer... so you didn’t.    

But you wondered, and the more you did, the more you came to the conclusion that they probably wouldn’t have done much to get you back. You know that you're not the same as Spider, but how would Jake and Neytiri view it?    

It was useless thinking about it, harmful even, you knew that, but you couldn’t help it. So you found yourself spending more time with Kiri, she was the only one who could understand the heartbreak you harbored over your brother's capture.    

Out in broad daylight it was hard to have a private conversation in such a bustling village, so Kiri called for her ikran and held out her hand for you to mount after her. You raised a brow questioningly but took her hand before she had to explain.   

Before you knew it, you were flying above the village, circling as you closed your eyes and breathed in the air. It had been so long since you’d flown, spending most of your time swimming or in the Marui. Kiri did a few more laps before landing atop the mountains on the island, the view of the trees was somewhat nostalgic...   

“I thought you’d like it up here” She commented, placing her hand on your shoulder as you both sat on the edge, legs dangling far above ground.    

“I don’t know why I never thought of this” you breathed, your shoulders relaxing, you didn't even know you were tense.   

“Well, you were a little distracted” she bumped her shoulder against yours, you swatted her away, blushing.   

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” you denied, and she laughed   

“I am not dumb sister. Our brothers may not notice the looks he gives you but sooner or later they will” she smirks, leaning in closer. You look away and continue to deny her accusations, it grows quiet for a second and your mind drifts back to spider, Kiri notices your change in demeanor.   

“Y/n you know I was just teasing you right?” she offers, placing her hand on your shoulder. you shake your head “No I know Kiri, I just...” placing your hand over hers “I miss my brother...” you whisper.   

She breathes out and scoots closer, you lay your head on her shoulder and she moves both your hands to the ground, still holding onto each other. “I know, I do too.” Is all she says, she doesn’t try to overcompensate or comfort you about how he’ll be fine, she just understands.   

That’s what you always liked about Kiri, even when you were upset over something stupid or didn’t even understand your own feelings, she listened and understood. You were both adopted by the Sullys with scientist mothers loyal to the Na’vi, granted, Kiri was adopted from birth and had her mothers recording to connect with, but the fact still remains that theres more than just being ‘family’ connecting you.  

“I remember when we were little and he’d always try and carry you around” She started, “Norm and Max didn’t trust him, but you begged and begged to go outside, they could never say no to you.” you giggled at the memory.   

“Of course, Neteyam and Lo’ak would start arguing about how they’d be better fit to carry you” she drawled, you could practically hear how she rolled her eyes. 

“And I'd get so sick of it that I'd just end up running off or getting carried by you.” you added.   

“Lo’ak would complain that you were slowing us down but back home he’d whine to mom about not being the one to look after you”  she giggled 

“I still don’t get why it was such a big deal” You mumbled 

“You were curious about the world, you took it all in like you were one with it” Kiri explained “Max was so protective though, you barely got any time out, so when you did, we didn’t want anything happening that could confine you back to the lab” she played with the ends of your hair as she spoke. “And none of us trusted the others to not mess it up.”   

You thought for a moment before sitting up and laughing “So all of that was just a way to one up each other?” you threw your head back “No wonder you guys kept it going when I became Na’vi”   

She laughs with you, “Your brothers are all stupid” she states, playfully punching your shoulder “And old habits die hard, I don’t think Neteyam ever gave up”   

You smiled “Teyam is...” you thought for a moment “my twin. I might just have to get used to it” you shrugged, a grin spreading across both your faces.   

“Well, if you ever need a moment to not be used to it” She leaned in “I think I'm the only one who knows about this place” she whispers playfully, like she’s telling you a secret in a crowd of people, before winking.   

You lamely stuck out your tongue as she snickered. Before anything else could be said, the horn that signals the return of dinner hunters sounded, you looked at each other before getting up and mounting her Ikran.  

-   

You decided to sit with Lo’ak in one of the village dinner circles, you’re not sure why, but you were surprised to see Tsireya and Ao’nung among the group. You were almost directly across from Ao’nung, and it was hard to resist scooting closer to him.    

“Can he stop ogling at you?” Lo’ak leans in to ask, you roll your eyes “Maybe when you stop ogling his sister”    

He scrunches his nose “I’m just saying it's weird, you guys have been at each other's throats for days and now he can’t keep his eyes off of you?” He questions, raising his brows, his argument is reasonable, but you’d rather not encourage him. You just shrug and go back to tearing up your fish to eat.   

“Hey maybe he’s into that” He adds, jabbing his elbow into your side.   

You whip your head around to him, eyes widened, mouth agape, a sound of disbelief escaping your mouth. He only laughs and picks up a piece of your fish, placing it in your mouth and closing it with his hand.   

You spit the food at him, and it was your turn to laugh as he frowned at you. Tsireya laughed at the interaction between you two and Lo’ak’s scowl fell into a bashful smile as they shared glances at eachother. You made eye contact with Rotxo and Ao’nung, you rolled your eyes as they smirked at Lo’ak’s awkward crush.   

“Maybe I ought to tell her you’re into that huh?” you chuckled into his ear, bringing back his scowl, he flipped you off before swatting you away.    

You spent dinner chatting away with the Metkayina your age, and Lo’ak reminding you multiple times to “eat or your food will get cold” or a finger in front of your lips that pointed down to your food as soon as you stopped talking.    

Tsireya complimented you on your tweng, sparking a conversation on weaving and accessories. You shared stories of the different bracelets and additions to your necklace, how you helped Neytiri weave Tuk’s first clothes, and when she outgrew them Neytiri wove a piece of it into your necklace before it was repurposed.    

She showed you the beads from her first underwater ceremony she performed under her mother, with this, others joined in. Rotxo telling the story of the bones on his necklace, Lo’ak showed off the teeth of his first kill in the forest, Tsireya listening intently. Ao’nung spoke of the beads on his armband and the giant tooth woven into his necklace. the one he took off and insisted you wear while together just the night before.   

The conversation was lively and shifted from topic to topic, until some started to yawn and parents came to collect their children, until only a few of you were left. Rotxo and Ao’nung shoved at each other as Tsireya and Lo’ak were immersed in a conversation about the forest, others continued their conversations. You stared up to the sky before a smile fell on your lips and stood up.   

You walked around the group, as you passed by Ao’nung you flicked his back with your tail. You kept walking but glanced back and made eye contact with him, you smiled and continued to the shoreline on the other side of the village. You sat in the sand drawing for a few minutes before you heard him coming.  

“Took you long enough” you teased, standing up to be face to face with him.  

“I didn’t want to be too obvious” He twirled the hair that framed your face with his finger. Grinning, you took a step back.  

“I think it’s a little unfair” You drawled, taking slow steps backwards, “That i've learned to swim” with every step you took back, he took one forward. You stopped and you were face to face again “but you haven't learned to fly”  

His face dropped; your grin only grew wider.  

You resisted the urge to yell as you shot through the air, Ao’nung’s hands holding onto your hips tightly.  It was dark but not so dark that you couldn’t see, you flew out past the village and reef. Tsyía cried out, it had probably been a while since she had stretched her wings like this. A smile etched onto your face as you soared through the air. Last time you were over the ocean you were filled with dread, now all you can feel exhilaration.   

You couldn’t help the cheers and laughter that escaped you as you accelerated, the waves below you crashed into each other, the sound reminding you of thunder, spraying water on your skin. Slowly you ascend upwards, the ocean now far below you.   

“How ya doing back there fishlips?” you smirked.  

“I’ll be fine as long as we don't faAA-” you cut him when Tsyía jerked down suddenly, leveling just above the ocean and tilting to the side so the tip of her wing could glide against the water. You laughed as his grip tightened and he jumped closer to you. When he realized what you did, he smacked you on the side of the head.  

You snickered “Don’t worry, I won't let you fall” you titled your head back to look at him, delighted look on your face. He still looked uneasy, but he nodded with a smile, he placed his hand on your thigh and wrapped his other arm completely around your waist.  

Admittedly, the position was much more secure and comfortable, but you shifted, his skin on yours felt like fire compared to the cool air nipping at you.  

You leaned forward more as Tsyía started to circle, not wanting to stray too far from the village. You let your body hang towards the sea as she started to tilt, the circles getting tighter, spurring on her speed. You laughed, thrill and adrenaline buzzing through your veins.  

As Tsyía twisted to the point you were almost upside down, out of the corner of your eye you saw Ao’nung reach down and graze the surface of the water with his fingers. Thank Eywa you secured both of you to the saddle.   

You noticed it was starting to get late, so you decided it was time to start heading back to the village, a shame since Ao’nung had just started to let loose. You evened out and made a steady pace back to the reef.  

Your head fell back resting on Ao’nungs chest as you looked down at the ocean.  

“It’s beautiful, isn't it?” You hummed, listening to his heart as it beat steadily. 

“I can only wonder what the forest looks like” he pressed his lips to the side of your head. “You must show me one day” he whispered.  

A smile grew on your face, you nodded, breathing in the air as it whipped against your face.   

As you landed on a secluded part of the beach, you prepared to dismount but Ao’nung beat you to it. He stood to your side, wordlessly he held your hips in his hands and lifted you off and onto the ground, your hands landing on his shoulders for stability.  

You pouted, insisting you could do it yourself but he simply laughed, leaning into whisper in your ear “I know.”  

-  

You weren't there when Kiri had her seizure, Neytiri and Ronal had taken through the island to collect difference herbs and plants, you ignored Ronal’s subtle remarks about you being too clumsy or ungraceful, it took another kind of patience to calm your mother so she wouldn’t attack the pregnant Tsahik.  

You were sorting what you had collected when Neteyam and Rotxo came rushing into the Marui with Kiri in their arms, Jake not far behind them already making a call to the biolab. Before you could ask what happened, or even get a good look at your sister, you were ushered out of the Marui.   

You stayed close to the entrance, peaking your ear in, you heard Neteyam explaining to Neytiri that she had a seizure under water.  

That’s when you started to hyperventilate. Lo’ak noticed but Ao’nung was the first to act, pulling you into his arms and speaking to you softly, repeating instructions from your breathing lessons. His voice low and firm.   

You weren’t calm at all, but you had your breathing under control now. Lo’ak placed a hand on your shoulder, telling you that the lab guys would be here soon, and Kiri would be fine.  

It didn’t take long for Norm and Max to run their analysis, but Neytiri had grown impatient and brought Ronal to take over, trusting her position as Tsahik over any human technology. As they walked out of the Marui you perked up and ran over to them.  

“Spell! Pa!” You called out to them. Growing up everyone called Max ‘Dr Patel’ and Norm ‘Spellman’, you of course being so young, couldn’t pronounce it and settled on just the ‘Spell’ and ‘Pa’ part. No one ever corrected you, so you never really grew out of it.  

They turned around, their mood immediately changing once they saw you. Norm, being in his avatar, picked you up by the armpits and swung you around before placing you on the ground for a hug. “Birdie! How are ya kid?”   

Just like how your brother was given his nickname because of how much he crawled around, you were called Birdie because of how you supposedly ‘squawked’ as a baby, you're just glad it didn’t stick like Spider’s did.  

Max placed a hand on your arm before pulling you in for a hug, ironic how now you were the taller one.  

 “I’m good, just worried about Kiri” You pulled away they looked at you sympathetically. “Don’t worry kid, she’s gonna be fine”  

You let them both place a kiss on your forehead before retreating to the Marui so they could talk with your dad. As you took your place next to Lo’ak, both he and Ao’nung were giving you amused looks.  

“Birdie” They both questioned in unison, you rolled your eyes. “Something neither of you have the privilege of calling me” you state as you flick Lo’ak forehead.  

Before either of them can say anything else, you hear Tuk exclaim that Kiri was awake. You peak inside to see your mother holding her hand, Tuk leaning over her, as she starts to cry.  

It breaks your heart; you want nothing but to rush in and comfort her but you know she needs space, so you stay back. Lo’ak frowns the same as you rubs your shoulder saying he was right, that she is ok.  

You lean back into Ao’nung’s chest as you gaze at your sister, he wraps his arms around you, placing his chin on your shoulder. You were to wrapped up in your sisters distress that you didn’t notice Ronal walking out of the Marui until she stopped in her place, glaring at your display.   

“Son.” her voice is cold, Ao’nung jerks his head up, his ears immediately dropping. She doesn’t say anything, she doesn’t even acknowledge you, she just coldly glared at Ao’nung before nodding for him to follow her.   

Wordlessly he lets go of you, he gives you an apologetic look before following his mother.  

You can tell your heart is only going to break even further...  

-  

“What did I tell you son?!” His mother barked, he held his head down, his fists clenching.  

“You do not reprimand Tsireya for hanging out with Lo’ak!” He points out.   

“Tsireya is not starting fights and slacking on her work because of him.” His mother hisses. She circles around him, picking up his hand to show him his bruised knuckles. “That girl is inept, her connection to Eywa scant.”  

He frowns “You cannot know that mother-!” “Do not talk back boy.” She cuts him off.  

He helplessly looks to his father who has been observing the whole time, he sighs and stands up. “Ronal, dear, you are being hard on the boy”  

“I am talking sense into him. He has already made a fool of us; I will not let the son of the Olo’eyktan court a forest girl when our Tsakarem is already a fool for the forest boy.” she snarled. Ao’nung dug his nails into his palms.  

“They have come here to learn our ways and become reef people” Tonowari calmly stated, Ronal narrowed her eyes.  

“You let them into our clan and now you let our children mingle with them.” Her voice was steady. “If it weren’t for Tsireya, that girl would be considered an option for Tsahik?”   

“Mother! It is not like that” Ao’nung defends  

She turns her attention back to him, hissing “I have seen you two, do not think your midnight escaped have gone unnoticed.”  

Shit.  

Ao’nung looked down, embarrassment coursing through his body.  

“I have stayed quiet but I will no longer. Stay away from her.” She hisses before turning and leaving the Marui.  

Ao’nung stands there, words caught in his throat. Tonowari places a hand on his shoulder. “Listen to your mother, son.”  

-  

You tried to not cry when Ao’nung didn’t show up that night, you knew it was probably his mother, but you still couldn’t help the shame and betrayal that stung at your heart. You waited for hours, you twirled the last flower he gifted you between your finger, the petals falling off wilted. 

When you showed up at the pod in the middle of the night, tears running down your face, arms wrapped around yourself, you were surprised to see Neteyam and Kiri up. They were whispering about something, probably her seizure, but as soon as they saw you, it was long forgotten.  

They soothed you and help you close as you cried, they didn’t ask what happened, they could probably guess pretty easily, they just cradled you until you fell asleep in their arms. Your face buried against Neteyam’s chest; Kiri’s arms wrapped around your middle.   

You felt guilty for interrupting their conversation but the next morning they insisted it wasn’t a problem, that they were glad you came to them. So you spent your entire morning huddled in the corner of the Marui with Kiri, neither of you having the energy to socialize.   

Maybe you were being dramatic but you really didn’t want to face Ao’nung or Ronal.   

You and Kiri had talked about her seizure, how he was sure it was because of the questions she asked her mother, but that was it. You fell into a comfortable silence until Tuk can barreling in.  

“Kiri! Y/n! C’mon you have to come see!!” She squeals, jumping up and down in the entrance. When neither of you seemed receptive, she came in and started dragging the both of you. Kiri protested until She got a glimpse of what was happening in the reef.  

“The Tulkun are here!!” Tuk yelled. You stared in awe at the giant creatures filling the reef. Kiri and Tuk both jumped into the water, ready to meet the Tulkun, but you simply walked to the edge of the dock gaping at the sight.  

“Y/n” you heard him say your name, you looked down nervously to see Ao’nung on his ilu in the water under you. “I am sorry about last night but please” he reached his hand out to you “Come meet my spirit brother” The apology in his eyes is genuine, you could tell it had pained him how you were visibly hurt and on edge. 

Hesitantly, you took his hand and he pulled you down, quickly grabbing a hold of you to place you on the back of his ilu. His hand braced your thigh as he sped off into the crowd of Tulkun. You watched in amazement, the creatures circling far below and bonding with the Metkayina. 

A Tulkun jumped out of the water, twisting as it fell back in, the children watching laughing and trying to copy the movement. 

“There he is!” He exclaimed “My spirit brother!” He quickened his pace until a Tulkun broke the surface, stopping you both.  

“Omui!” Ao’nung grinned “How are you” he placed his hand next to the Tulkun’s front eye. Omui responded with a noise that you couldn’t understand and Ao’nung laughed. “I have been fine, mother and father think I have caused too much trouble though” He signed as he spoke.  

The Tulkun made another noise before it’s eyes shifted to you, you tensed up.  

Ao’nung patted your thigh, “I want to introduce you to Y/n, she is a girl I have met...” His shy grin explaining more than his words, you blushed equally as hard.  

Another noise was made, and you leaned closer to Ao’nung. “I have no idea what he is saying” you admitted  

He grins at Omui before looking back at you “He says you are beautiful, that I have fine taste” you feel as if a volcano erupted in your face, a hand coming up to hide your shy smile.  

Nervously you signed back “Thank you, you are just as beautiful” He cried out again with what you can only guess was amusement. 

You laughed as Omui and Ao’nung shared stories with each other, slowly you started to understand the Tulkun. Tsireya and Lo’ak swam by to greet Omui, briefly talking about you and Ao’nung right in front of you. 

You reached over an smacked Lo’ak every time he or Tsireya made a comment about it, ignoring his complaints of getting punished for what Tsireya says. 

 The rest of the day was spent celebrating, telling stories, and dancing. The music was played from the beach, many Na’vi joining in with their instruments and singing. Many danced atop the Tulkun, there were obviously more experienced dancers, as the seemed to be the focus, but plenty simply danced with each other song to song. 

Tsireya and Rotxo insisted on you and your siblings joining them in a group dance. You weren’t completely clueless, as many of the songs and dances had been performed at feasts and other small celebrations, but you and Lo’ak still stumbled and ran into each other continuously, bickering about who’s fault it was. 

Often you and Neteyam took turns dancing with Tuk, she jumped around with no regard to the beat or rhythm, until Kiri swept her up in her arms once she was tired out. This left you and Neteyam together, he clearly found amusement in how uncoordinated you were, but he always caught you and was patient when helping you stay with the beat when you fumbled. 

Neteyam laughed as he watched the the dismay on your face when Ao’nung and Rotxo pulled you all along in a dance the required hopping from Tulkun to Tulkun, and many seemingly advanced steps. You screeched as you fell an embarrassing amount of times, but Teyam always covered for you, ‘falling’ far less gracefully more than a few times or catching you. 

You were dizzy and tired out by the time you made it back to Omui, falling into the water when Lo’ak and Rotxo made an abrupt stop. You groaned and stated you wouldn’t dance anymore, they picked at you for a bit but eventually dispersed, leaving only you and Ao’nung who sat on his ilu with you while you regained your energy.  

As it got closer to night, more mellow, soothing songs were played. Ao’nung grinned and held out his hand as he stood on top of Omui, recognizing which song would come next. 

“What if we are seen?” You whispered, hesitating to take his hand.  

He glanced around before turning back to you, reaching his hand out further “Then we are seen.”  

(Play the song now I think?)  

And with that you placed your hand in his and he pulls you up, you glance around and realize you’re now farther to the back of the reef. He wraps his arm around your waist and holds your hand in his, slowly swaying you both to the music.  

You kept glancing around as people started whistling to the song, instruments playing in the background, but your attention snapped to Ao’nung when he started softly singing the lyrics.  

Wasn’t really thinking, wasn’t looking, wasn’t searching for an answer  

You stared at him, he continued to grin as he swayed you to the music.  

In the moonlight. When I saw your face...  

You bit back a smile as he leaned in closer  

Saw you looking at me, saw you peeking out from under moon beams  

There were plenty of actual performers on the beach singing, but it felt like all you could hear was him. His eyes were completely fixated on you. 

Through the palm trees, swaying in the breeze.  

He dipped you, moving your hand to his chest as your head fell back, a laugh escaping your lips.  

I know I'm feeling so much more than ever before  

You held your head up but he kept you in the dipped position, his face now only inches away from yours.  

And so I'm giving more to you than I thought I could do~  

He pulled you so you were now standing up, he stepped back, now engulfing both your hands in his.  

Don’t know how it happened don’t know why but you don’t really need a reason  

He leaned closer, he brought one of your hands up to his lips and pressed a kiss to it, a grin spreading across his face. You giggle shyly, not wanting to look away.  

When the stars shine  

His fingers now intertwined with yours, your arms extended outwards in a slow fall to your sides, 

Made to love each other, made to be together for a lifetime  

He twirled you, not letting go of each other of your hands, so you were now locked in an embrace with his holding you from the back.  

In the sunshine  

His breath tickled your ear, causing you to giggle  

Flying in the sky  

He held you tighter and shook you gently, you laughed, your head falling back to rest on his shoulder  

I know I'm feeling so much more than ever before  

He slowly released you; he planted a hand on your waist as you turned around to face him again  

And so I'm giving more to you than I thought I could do  

He closed his eyes, getting into the song, leaning in closer.  

He wrapped his arm around your waist again, taking your hand in his, swaying to the music. You stared at each other. His forehead rested against yours, as he twirled you, he placed a chaste kiss on it. You giggled as he continued to sway with you.  

Now I know love Is real  

You tilted you head so that your foreheads no longer touched, instead your noses did 

You had heard this song once before; you could only remember the last few lines, so you softly sang back to him.  

So when sky high as the angels try, leaving you and I,  

Your lips were only inches apart as you whispered the last words to each other  

Fly love...  

You stared at each other for a few moments before Omui sprayed water out of his blow hole, interrupting the moment.  

“Omui! Gross!” Ao’nung yelled, but you could only laugh, he turned to look at you, his frown softening as he watched you.  

You swam back to the docks on his ilu when it got dark, your cheek pressed against his back, arms wrapped around his waist, his hand over yours. You could faintly hear his heartbeat, strong and steady. 

“Ao’nung.” You jumped at the cold voice. You peaked from behind his shoulder to see both your parents standing on the dock, your parents looking at you disappointed, Ronal and Tonowari angry.  

“Both of you.” The Tsahik pointed in the direction of her Marui “Now.”  

[vioartemis]

I'll sit with you in the dark

(Wednesday Addams x fem! childhood friend! reader)

Summary: You first met Wednesday when you were just kids, and eventually became friend with her. Years later, you meet again at Nevermore... Warnings: none (?) (English isn't my first language, I'm sorry if there are mistakes or if something doesn't make sense TvT)

Wednesday was upset. Her parents were forcing her to go to a new school. Their old school, Nevermore. She hadn't planned on staying long though, a few days in and she would mysteriously disappear.

"Wednesday, this is Enid Sinclair" principal Weems said

"Howdy roomie!"

The blonde girl tried to hug the ravenette, who took a step back. Physical touch. Disgusting.

"Not a hugger, got it"

"Excuse Wednesday" Morticia started " she's allergic to col-"

She was interrupted by someone bursting through the door.

"Fuck yeah I was right!"

"What did we already told you about swearing, young lady?" principal Weems said "I'm sorry for that Mrs Addams. This is-"

"Y/n L/n."

Hearing Wednesday say your name, your lips curled up into a wild smile.

"So you do remember me uh?"

"How could I not?"

You and Wednesday were childhood friends. You met when you were 5. You were in the same class, but you started talking during one of her birthday parties. The one with the piñata filled up with spiders.

While every other kid ran away, you sat on the floor and played with a spider, letting it climb on you, to everyone's surprise.

"Anyways, I'm not gonna stay long or I'll be in trouble. I just wanted to give you this"

You walked up to her, before mumbling intelligible words. A black dahlia appeared in your hand, which you handed to the ravenette. She looked at it for a second with suspicious eyes.

"You can take it, it won't explode this time. I grew it myself. Just teleported it from my dorm"

She finally took the flower after one more look.

"It seems you have improved dear Y/n" Morticia said

You turned around to face her and Gomez.

"Thanks again for the book you gave me, Mrs Addams. It really helped"

While you talked with her parents, Wednesday's eyes didn't leave the flower you gave her. You remembered it was one of her favorites. You remembered your promise to give one to her when you'd meet again. And, most importantly, you were still wearing that bracelet.

She looked back at you, analyzing how you've changed since the last time she saw you. You were different, back in the days. You were cute. A cute little mouse. But now... She wouldn't say you were cute anymore.

She would rather say beautiful. You looked more like a true witch now. Or at least you had the aura of one.

"I am sorry to interrupt, but Wednesday still has a school to visit." reminded Weems "Miss L/n, don't you have anything to do?"

"Ahh yes yes sorry. I'm glad I could meet you again, Mr and Mrs Addams." you turned to face your friend, still smiling "I'll see you around, Wednesday"

The way you said her name made butterflies spiders grow in the ravenette's stomach. And your smile... That smile she didn't think she could see ever again...

After her new roommate showed her the school, Wednesday came back to her dorm. She was taking off the colorful stuff Enid put on the window when you knocked at the door.

"Want some help?" you asked

"It would be appreciated."

You made your way to the window and took off some of the colorful panels. Enid wouldn't be happy about that, but Wednesday and colors didn't really go together.

"How did you know?"

"Hm?"

"You said you were right. Plus you said you grew the dahlia yourself. So I assume you were talking about my arrival here. Am I wrong?"

"I heard someone new was coming. And that they murdered a student in their old school by putting piranhas in the pool. Couldn't be anyone else than you. Plus I had a feeling we'd meet soon."

"I see."

You put the last panel on the floor, not saying a word, as you knew she preferred silence over small talk.

<><><><> ♡ <><><><>

"Yeah but- if I wanted to do that, how much do you think I'll need?"

"Why would you want to do that in the first place??" Enid asked with disgust

"I say if I wanted to, that's hypothetical. We never know what can happen Enid. Better be prepared"

"In what kind of situation would you need to throw a corpse in an acid bath?"

You waved your hand in the air, like you swept her question away.

"That's not important. I just need to know how much acid I'd need"

"Why don't you ask Wednesday? She sure knows the answer"

"Yeah I know. I just- it's basic murder knowledge.. she will be disappointed I don't know that.."

"Why do you care so much about what she thinks of you? You don't have a crush on her, do you?"

You didn't say anything, looking at your feet in embarrassment. You knew what Wednesday thought about romantic relationships. Pathetic, she would say.

"YOU DO!!"

Enid jumped in excitement, clapping her hands, before shaking you slightly back and forth for a second and hugging you tight.

"Enid- I can't breath- and for fuck's sake please keep your voice low..!"

While you were patting the werewolf's back to calm her down, Wednesday was watching you from afar. Oh how she wanted to rip the blonde's head off at this moment.

She clenched her fist so hard that small drops of blood started to fall onto the ground.

Why was she hugging you like that, her body fully pressed against yours? And most importantly, why weren't you doing anything about that?

You were hers.

You were always hugging Enid or other people. But you never tried to hug her. Not that she'd want to. Of course not.

But, maybe, she wanted to know what your body would feel like. How your lips would taste like.

She never thought she'd ever be romantically attracted to someone. But then she met you again, years after you left with you parents.

Obviously she could just confess to you. But even if she would never admit it, she was scared. Scared that you wouldn't share her feelings. That you would leave her. Again.

She liked being alone. But being alone with you... Now that's what she really wanted. But ask her and she will threaten to skin you alive.

<><><><> ♡ <><><><>

A few days had passed since Wednesday saw Rowan getting killed in the forest. No one believed her, as everyone saw him the day after the attack.

You didn't know why she would lie about that, but you saw him too.

You were thinking about all those events, in your bed, incapable of sleeping, when you heard a knock at your door.

You stood up slowly, half dressed, and opened the door.

"Wednesday..? Wha-"

"I need your help."

"It's 3 am...?"

"I know. May I come in?"

"Uhh... sure"

You step to the side.

"What can I help you with?"

"I need you to go in my mind."

"Wha-"

"Find the memory of the attack. I am not lying, Y/n. Plus you could see what the monster looks like."

"I-" you sighed "Okay, let's do that"

You lit some candles and put them into a circle, leaving space in the middle for you to sit. Fortunately, your roommate wasn't here...

You gestured her to sit in front of you.

"I'll need to hold your hands, if that's okay for you"

She nodded, letting you take her hands in yours. You closed your eyes, taking a deep breath, before entering her mind.

Wow. Her mind was really organized. The memory will be easier to find that way.

You found it pretty quickly, and practically jumped when you saw the monster. God it was ugly. You rewatched the scene a few times, just to be sure Rowan didn't have any chance to survive this.

Having someone looking into her mind was quite strange for Wednesday. She didn't know what to expect before coming, and now that's she was here she didn't know what to think of it.

She could feel where you were looking in her mind. Couldn't explain it, but she felt it. So she was a bit surprised when she felt you looking at what she thought of you.

She didn't let go of your hands though. No. She let you watch whatever you wanted. She wanted you to see what you meant to her. What she would do for you.

You quickly went out of her mind after seeing all of that, trying not to blush and quite ashamed of yourself. Spying on people's thoughts was really not something you approved, but at the moment you just couldn't help it.

"I- I'm sorry I-" you stooped a second "I saw things I wasn't supposed to look at.. I- I saw you were interested in some witchcraft stuff..? What about you go in my mind and look at what you want to know..?"

Oh so you were lying now. Interesting, Wednesday thought.

You weren't aware of the fact that people could feel where you looked in their mind, that's why you lied. Plus you didn't know how she would've reacted if you confronted her directly.

"I only have visions, Y/n. I am not a psychic."

"I know, I'll just project my mind into yours, if you're interested by-"

"Fine."

You blinked twice, surprised by her fast reply, before closing your eyes once again and projecting your mind into her own.

Contrary to Wednesday's mind, yours was a mess. Some thoughts were bigger than others, some were hiding, jumping (?), running away or just lying there like they were dying.

One of the biggest thoughts she could see was your witchcraft knowledge, which wasn't much of a surprise. The other big thought was, to her surprise, her.

Before she could realize it, she was already reviewing memories of you two. But not only that. She saw the moment you realized you fell for her.

On the other hand, you had no idea where she was looking in your mind. As she wasn’t in your mind, but in a projection of your mind, you couldn't feel anything.

Eventually, she came out of your mind, a slight smirk on her face, knowing you wanted her as bad as she wanted you.

She slowly approached you, taking advantage of your still closed eyes, your hands still in hers. Feeling movement, you opened your eyes, just as she sat on your lap.

"Wednesday what are yo-"

"Shh, we've lost enough time, don't you think, Cara Mia?"

You were a blushing mess. She was so close to you your lips almost touched. You could feel her breath on your lips when she murmured:

"Dame un beso, mi amor"

You spoke enough spanish to understand what she wanted, and kissed her within a second. The ravenette cupped your cheeks, lips not leaving yours, as your hands made their way up to her waist.

She pulled away after a moment, staying only inches away from your face, looking directly into your gorgeous e/c eyes.

"I hope you understand that I am not going to bring any light in your life, mi amor”

"I don't need you to light up my world" you smiled "I'll sit with you in the dark."

[alicerosejensen]

Requiem

Warning: reader death; mentions of suicide; dark; angst; mentions of alcohol.

Synopsis: Leon is tired of losing those he loves. Another scar on his heart that you gave him when you decided to leave forever.

A/N: I think this is what I can write best. I just actually feel better after posting this.

It would be better to tear your heart out of your chest than to burn and rot from love.

Leon didn’t want to deal with the funeral, but it seems that no one else would have cared about it anymore. And here you are lying in front of him, surrounded by flowers whose velvet petals touch your pale skin. As tender and short-lived as you yourself. You lie in your coffin in complete silence with your arms folded on your chest and it seems that nothing can interrupt your eternal sleep.

Actually, that’s how it is.

So beautiful and calm. Death can't take that from you, but death took you from him. More precisely, you did it yourself without leaving even a short farewell note with “I’m sorry” written in careless handwriting. You left him nothing but bitter memories of the last months.

Leon looks at you without saying a single word. Without you, there is too much Emptiness here, but as you know, the most painful daggers are stabbed in the back by loved ones. Why couldn't you just talk to him when his heart was always open to you? Now he has nowhere to hide from the pain, and Leon would gladly dig himself a second grave next to you or lie down in the same coffin with you - a cruel traitor who so callously trampled on his love, sneakily escaping to another world, and anger really splashes inside him, bursting out with tears.

Claire carefully puts her hand on his shoulder and it seems that he is hunched over from the weight lying on him. Your death... your voluntary departure from life hit him harder than a tombstone. After all, you ran away from him, from this world, into your dreams and into some other world of your own that is so strikingly different from this one. Leon even wonders if you did it? Tears flow down his cheeks against his will, Leon has no strength to restrain them, just like the day he found you there on the bed.

A day that he will curse for the rest of his life...

He knew that it was hard for you, that there were days when you just couldn't get out of bed and put yourself in order. Sometimes he sat you down in front of him and untangled your hair that you hadn't combed for too long, and even took up scissors when combing couldn't cope with tangled strands. He knew that it was difficult for you and made sure that you took your medications, but it seems that everything turned out to be complete shit, because if the treatment would have been useful, then you would be lying on the bed or the couch right now.

Not in a wooden box that costs a lot of money.

Endless suffering that was worse than death for you and you gave up by stopping the fight. Leon hates that day.

In particular, when he realized that you were not breathing.

When opening the door of your small apartment, the prickly evening air hit him in the face with a strong stream blowing from the open window. Then he looked at the lowered window, thinking that you were just sleeping, and did not immediately notice the empty pill bottle on the floor. You were already as pale as you are now, with blue lips, but Leon thought it was just from the cold... not from death. He lay down next to you, gently hugging you, kissing you on the cheek, trying to warm you with the warmth of his body, rubbing your icy palms and whispering various tender words in your ear, trying to gently wake you up. What a fool! Leon has seen so many deaths, but when you lay in front of him, it took him a few minutes for his heart to break forever.

"Princess?" The agitated voice was filled with notes of panic and fear. In the end, he turned pale himself when he turned your silent body.

Humble silence and a damn rude voice. Leon shook you by the shoulders, slapped your cheeks with his palms, trying to force you to open your eyes, but you left without saying the last goodbye. The whole world was like one big sand castle collapsed right in his hands and your body was just a reminder of what connected you to each other. The sound of crying did not subside for a long time in the four walls. Leon continued to hold you in his arms, pressing you to his chest, rocking you as if cradling a small child and warm drops of salty tears fell on your face and lips. Until at some point a hole formed inside him that allowed him to focus his vision on the ill-fated empty pill bottle that caused your death.

His head was lying on top of your head, but Leon just watched and waited without knowing what, because who better than him to know that miracles do not happen.

Like every living soul, you have been fighting for life for a long time, forever stumbling and once falling into such a deep hole that there is no strength left to get out of there. Despair has clung to you from all sides, turning you into a kind of ghost that even pills could not help you find new colors of happiness for later life. In the end, you ended your life path prematurely considering that death is also a medicine.

That's just not necessary to self-medicate.

Perhaps after you die, you decide to wait for Leon on the border of life and death, afraid to cross the final line alone forever. But if this line exists, will he forgive you?

After all, you didn't watch how he drowned his pain in bottles of alcohol, and then organized a funeral, denying Hannigan and Claire help, because they just knew that he was tearing apart and that a loaded gun had long been in his apartment with the safety off. It was worth pulling the trigger once, but then who will take care of you? Leon has not believed in God for a long time and now it's even good because despite your act, the thought that you will suffer after death scares him even more. However, if so, then he was ready to go down to Hell to you.

Leon still has a lot of pain left. He was so tired of losing loved ones. Probably one day he will go through all five stages of grief and accept your departure, leaving himself a slight melancholy and happy memories of which he will be reminded of your things. But it won't be soon. This bleeding wound on his soul will torment him for a long time and only time will turn it into another scar on his heart.

Meanwhile, he listens to the serene memorial service and, just like you, drowns in these gloomy thoughts, because now, despite the hellish training and zombie outbreaks, Leon does not know how to live on without you, so he begs you to just wait for him on the other side.

[kairiscorner]

(reblogs are greatly appreciated, it helps get my content out there! if you guys like what you see, please reblog it too <:D)

nah but imagine miguel helping you tie your hair up before a big mission and then he just gets sappy about it because...

miguel heard you grumble as you let your hair fall down messily and sighed as you looked at your disheveled appearance in the mirror you were holding. you wanted to feel a bit better about yourself today, spruce yourself up, give yourself a nice hairdo to treat yourself–but you couldn't figure out how exactly to braid your hair the way you wanted to. it frustrated you to no end how you knew how to beat criminals and villains in your home dimension, contain anomalies and lead squads of spider people, but had no clue how to tie your hair up in a more classy way.

"you good?" miguel asked you as he looked over at you from underneath his glasses as he looked up from the reports he was reading. you smiled at him and nodded, with your hair looking tousled. "i just... can't seem to get this hairstyle right." you said as you began to run your brush through your hair as you tried to fix it up. miguel gave a hum as a response. "what's the occasion?" he asked you as you chuckled while you brushed your hair. "nothing, just wanted to do something nice for myself, is all. just wanted to feel pretty." "but you're already really beautiful." he blurted out as a soft whisper.

you got a bit embarrassed at miguel's little quip, smiling to yourself a bit. miguel got down from where he was working and sat down next to you by the sofa. "you really want to tie it up?" he asked you as he brushed away stray hairs from your forehead. you nodded as miguel gestured for you to turn around. he gently took a few locks of your hair and some bobby pins. he worked his way through your hair softly, tucking and wrapping your hair into intricate little braids.

miguel sighed softly as he placed the bobby pins in your hair, admiring his handiwork. the bobby pins had little violet and pink flowers in them, just like the ones gabriella had... he hadn't done anyone's hair, nobody but gabi's. "you're... really good at this, mig." you complimented him with a warm smile as you admired your reflection in the mirror. miguel nodded and thanked you. "...i used to do it for a girl i once loved." "really?" "yeah, a... a girl who really looked up to me." he said as he felt over one of the bobby pins he didn't place in your hair.

it had a light blue flower design, and was gabi's favorite. he gazed at it with tender eyes and a small, sad smile as he felt over the bumps of the petals. you looked over at him and placed a hand on his shoulder. "i bet... she really loved it when you did her hair. seeing as how great you are at doing this." you said as miguel chuckled lightly at your assumption. "oh, no, she hated it. hated it whenever i did her hair because she knew i sucked at it. so i did her hair every day, even though she kept telling me i couldn't do it... until i got better, and she finally found a good word to say about my handiwork." he reminisced with a wider grin as his voice cracked a little while he was narrating to you.

"and it looks like all your hard work wasn't for naught." you uttered, and with that, miguel ceased feeling over the bobby pin and looked at you, his smile now gone, replaced by his usual, neutral expression. it wasn't one of indifference or apathy, but rather... one that was conflicted, but well concealed. "...i'm not so sure about that." he said as he got up from the sofa and went back to his platform to work.

you couldn't decipher the meaning behind miguel's words, you couldn't fully comprehend why he was so ambiguous about it, but you didn't dare to question him. you respected his privacy, what he didn't wanna elaborate on, you didn't pry; but you felt in his tone when he was speaking about that girl whose hair he used to do, you felt a warmth in it, a fondness. but that warmth came with an undertone of... sadness, a profound longing, but it was probably just you thinking that. probably.

tags !! @miguelswifey04 @binibinileonara @fiannee @jrrantss @fictarian @yuridopted0 @arachnoia @ophanimgold

[lokis-army-77]

Left behind

Eddie Munson x female reader

Word Count: 1884

After a funeral, Eddie feels he's being left alone and says some hurtful things to the reader. After some time apart at home, he comes to apologize and is assured by the reader that she will never leave him.

Warning: Talk of death, at a funeral, angst, fluff, Eddie says some mean things.

A/N: I'm so sorry..

Masterlist

The wind whipped around us and the chill it brought stung like ice. My cheeks had already started to turn pink from the cold, my nose numb and as red as could be. A December afternoon in Indiana is a dreary thing, put a funeral on top of it and it's the physical manifestation of Depression. 

I stood just behind Eddie, who was dressed in his only suit with his long hair pulled back in a bun out of his face. My own black dress clung to me in the wind, the bottom hem whipping around at my knees. 

The pastor provided by the funeral home spoke in a bored and monotonous tone, by this point I had drowned him out. I was too concerned for Eddie right now to worry about being led to christ while we buried a loved one. 

He was hiding it well. No emotion showing on his beautiful face. His eyes almost glazed over as he bored a hole into the casket. 

It was a simple thing, the cheapest we could afford. Grey aluminum with the smallest casket spray on top. Those flowers weren't even the nicest and the wind was doing a number on the soft white petals. 

Quietly, I placed my hand on Eddie's shoulder, letting him know I was there for him. I felt him stiffen before reluctantly pulling my hand away. 

Looking around us, only a hand full of people were gathered. A few guys who worked at the plant and a waitress from the diner we visited almost every Saturday morning. 

They all gave me sad smiles when they caught my eye. I gave them one back. 

I hadn’t noticed the preacher had stopped talking until a hand was cupping my own. Turning around it was the waitress. 

"Saturday mornings sure aren't gonna be the same without him." She squeezed my hand. "I've got a casserole with your name on it, just come on by the diner and I'll bring it out to you." 

I shook my head. "No, no, Mrs. Janice, that's too much. You didn't have to do that." 

"Oh Hun, you shouldn't have to worry about cooking or finding food when you're going through a loss." She pouted. "Come on by and I'll give it to you and if you need any more, just give me a call." 

"Yes ma'am. Thank you."  I gave her a tight smile and she left. 

Next were the three plant workers who introduced themselves as, Randy, Carl, and Jimmy. They gave their condolences as they shook my hand before taking off. 

The Pastor was last. "Mrs. Munson," he started. I only nodded not wanting to correct him on the fact that I wasn't married to Eddie yet, only engaged. "They are going to start lowering the casket. I don't know if you want to watch that but you can if you would like." 

"Thank you, I think we might." 

"Well then, I'll be on my way. I'm very sorry for your loss." He turned on his heel and followed the others through the cemetery to where all the vehicles had been parked. 

I went back to Eddie, who hadn’t moved to talk to anyone. 

"Eddie, sweetheart, why don't we go? Hum?" I linked my arm with his. 

He didn't budge when I pulled on his arm so I stood there with him as he stared and I watched the men begin to lower the casket into the ground and shovel the mound of dirt back into the hole. 

Once they were finished and gone we still stayed standing, looking at the grave with the casket spray decorating the dirt. It was getting colder by the minute since the sun was starting to set and Eddie still hadn't given any sign that he wasn't a statue. 

"Eddie?" I question, going to stand in front of him, eyes searching his face. "Eddie please, I need you to say something, move, anything." I couldn’t hide the wobble of worry coming through in my voice. 

He opened his mouth, closed it, opened it, then closed it again. 

"Want me to give you a minute alone?" He nodded. "Okay. I'll be in the car when you're ready to go." 

Slowly I let go of him and braced myself against the wind towards the car. Slipping into the passenger seat, I hurriedly turned the key and started the ignition, thankful for the heater. 

Ten minutes later, Eddie opens the driver's side door. The rush of cold air taking away the warmth had me shivering once again. 

He sat quietly for a few seconds before suddenly slamming his hand shown onto the steering wheel. 

"Fuck!" 

I jumped, startled at his outburst. That was the only sign of emotion he had shown since this morning. 

"Fuck! fuck! fuck!" Each shout was emphasized by him hitting the wheel. 

"Eds, be careful, don't want you hurting yourself." 

I reached over pushing his hands down into his lap. His breathing had become rapid and his eyes were no longer glossed over. The haze cleared up and nothing but anger shone through. 

"Why do I keep being left alone?" 

I place my hand on his shoulder and rub my thumb into the tissue. "What do you mean, baby?" 

"Everyone fucking leaves me all alone at some point or another. First, it was my old man, then mom died, and now Wayne." His words were warped with anger and frustration. "You'll probably leave me too. You might at well go now while I'm already in pain. Rip my heart out while it's already broken, it would be better than leading me on." 

I shook my head at his words. "Eddie, what are you saying? I'm not going to leave you, ever." 

He looks up at me, eyes rimmed in red as tears he's been holding in for days begin to pour. 

"Didn't you fucking hear me? Everyone always leaves me." The crack in his voice was only the beginning of Eddie’s breakdown. "I'm just a worthless kid from a worthless family and if you knew any better you would run like hell." 

"Eddie don't say that, please. I know it's hard right now but we'll get through this." I tried to comfort him but I didn't know what to say. 

"That's easy for you to say, Wayne wasn't your Uncle. He didn't take care of you when you were dropped off at his doorstep because your dad was an abusive asshole and your mother had you get you away from him. He didn't struggle, morning, day, and night just to keep you fed and let himself starve. He wasn’t yours then and he’s not yours now." 

Eddies hand came up to swat mine away from him and when he did I placed it in my lap. Too stunned by his words to speak I just sat quietly. 

I thought to myself, He doesn't mean to be rude. The man who raised him just died. He needs time and space. He doesn't mean it. 

We sit in silence while Eddie drives us back to our apartment. I fiddle my thumbs and sneak careful glances over at him. Silent tears streamed down his face and my fingers itched to wipe them from his cheeks. My heart ached at the sight of him barely holding it together.

“Eddie, maybe I should drive?” The statement came out more as a question as I watched him struggle to stay on one side of the road. 

“No.” It came out in a rasp then he cleared his throat. “No, I’m fine. I always drive.” 

He wiped the tears from his eyes and stepped on the gas more. After that, the drive went more smoothly. No more veering into the other lane or stopping too long at a red light turned green. 

Finally home we went inside. The darkness added to the somber mood and the quietness rang in my ears. 

“I’m gonna heat up some dinner, okay?” I spoke, heading into the kitchen to take the leftovers out of the fridge. 

Eddie only grunted in response, kicking off his nice shoes and languidly undoing his tie. I listened to him slowly walking to our room before the door clicked shut. 

As I stood there, the refrigerator door wide open, I let the slip. A choked cry erupted from my chest and my hands came up suddenly to cover my mouth. I had wanted to be strong for Eddie, a shoulder he could come cry on if he needed, a support for him to fall on.  But honestly, I was almost as broken as he was. 

Wayne might not have been related to me but when Eddie and I became the best of friends in Junior High, he took me right in. He had looked after me like I had wanted my own father too. He’s the one that finally talked some sense into Eddie and I, separately, and made us realize we liked one another. 

None of that was equivalent to what he had with Eddie but what Eddie had said to me in the car had stung and although I knew it was coming from a place of grief, I couldn’t help but cry. 

Staggering back into the counter, I slid down them to the floor, head hanging into my knees as I let myself weep, body shaking. It felt good to cry even if my face began to feel puffy and my throat had a huge lump in it. 

I don’t know how long I stayed like that, but when the fridge door finally closed and a warm body sat next to me on the kitchen floor, I realized that my body ached from being there and my tears had all but dried up. 

Eddie slung his arm over my back, pulling me in closer to him, his other hand smoothed back my hair, fingers catching in the knots. 

“I’m sorry I yelled at you.” He apologized. 

“It’s okay,” I mumbled into my legs. “You were just letting out your emotions.” 

“Even so, I shouldn't have said what I did. It was unfair of me.” He sniffled. 

Looking up my puffy swollen face met his and I gave him a short sorrowful smile. He gave me one back. 

“Eddie, truly, you don't have to apologize.” I sit up and lean into him. “I should have just given you some space.” 

He shook his head but didn’t reply, I think he knew arguing with me would yield nothing. We held each other on the floor for a while longer before finally I stood to my feet, reached down for his hand, and pulled him up. 

“I love you Eddie Munson and I promise I will never leave you.” I gently lace my fingers in the hair at the base of his neck, he had let it down from its bun at some point, and pulled him down to my lips. Kissing him like this, soft and sweet and full of all the love I could give, felt wonderful. Like being cleansed of all your worry and strife with white-hot fire. 

“God, you’re too good for me Sweetheart. I really don’t know what I would do without you.” He pulled away, cupping my face in his hands. 

“You won’t ever have to find out.”

[anonymityisfunwriter]

Hi!! Just wanna say I love your writing sm! And could you please tell how the friendship between loki and sunshine blossomed? I just love how sunshine is with people btw

- 🌻

Okay, okay, that's such a good question, like we already know how Sunshine and Loki met and we've seen a few glimpses into their friendship, but we don't know how they actually became friends. And that is an injustice. So allow me to recount how exactly Sunshine and Loki became friends.

F is For Friends Who Do Stuff Together

Part of The Grumpy X Sunshine Series

Loki smirks to himself. He wasn't going to do anything too awful, perhaps a little mischievous but why would anyone expect anything else from him?

It was their fault really. Leaving their newest addition all alone while he was lurking around the Compound. You're low hanging fruit ripe for the picking.

He didn't even have any real plans for you.

Perhaps he'd take you to Asgard for long enough for Thor to come looking. Long enough to frighten you, certainly. In truth, he was just bored and looking to stir up a little bit of chaos - and they made it far too easy for him.

After all, you're completely oblivious to him looming behind you. It was almost too easy.

He creeps up slowly, watching as you tend to a bouquet of flowers in the common room.

You're not even in within arm's reach when, without ever looking over your shoulder, you chirp, "Hi, Loki!"

He freezes, completely caught off guard, his plans entirely derailed, "How did you-"

You turn around with a bright smile, "How did I what?"

"How did you know I was there?"

You shrug, "I heard you."

"Impossible." It disturbs him more than it should. He was a god. Not just a god, but the god of deception and trickery. You were just the strange newcomer.

"Maybe you're not as sneaky as you think you are."

Despite how deeply unsettling this turn of events is, he smirks to himself. He knows you're completely unaware of the challenge you just issued.

So he tries. Again. And again. And again.

And each time, "Hi, Loki!" or "You almost got me that time!" or, worst of all "You're getting better everyday!"

It was maddening. Infuriating, even. He even scared Thor a few times just to make sure he hadn't somehow lost his touch. But no, his brother fell for the old snake in the common room trick every time without fail.

For three months, you held his attention. It was a new record for Loki. Every chance he got to catch you off guard, he took. And none of them ever worked.

One day, he swears he's finally done it. You're talking so enthusiastically to the SHIELD agent before you that there's no way you know he's lurking around the corner.

"Hold on," you tell the SHIELD agent you're speaking to whose name Loki hasn't bothered to learn. You turn around to find Loki a foot away from you, "Hi, Loki."

"What the hell was that?" the SHIELD agent demands.

"Oh, it's just this game me and Loki play." You dismissively wave your hand. "He tries to sneak up on me and I find him before he does. It's sort of like a very intense game of hide and seek."

"I think he's trying to kidnap you."

"It's alright. He's my friend."

Loki falters just as he's about to storm away, "I beg your pardon?"

"What?"

"What did you just say?"

"I said that it's alright because you're my friend," you casually repeat.

"That! Right there!" Loki explains, gesturing between you and him. "When did we become friends?"

"Umm... I don't know. We've been playing this game for like three months, so like three months ago, I guess."

Loki's eyebrows furrow together. He's not quite sure if it's the most endearing or the most disturbing thing he's ever heard. Worst of all, you don't seem to be afraid of him. "I've been trying to abduct you for three months and you call me your friend?"

"Well, I know you'd bring me back eventually. Plus, I've always wanted to visit another realm, it's on my bucket list!"

"What gave you the impression that I'd return you?"

You shrug, "I'm not worried about it, I trust you."

Your words strike a chord deep within Loki. He can't remember the last time someone trusted him, but you did. You did because you considered him a friend. "You trust me because I am your friend?"

You nod repeatedly, "Pretty much."

The corner of Loki's mouth twists upward, "Huh..."

"What?"

"I think I might need to find someone new to wreak havoc on."

"Oooh, we should play a prank on Sam!"

Loki smile mischievously at you, "I think we'll get along just fine."

AnonymityIsFun Masterlist Grumpy Sunshine Series

As always, let me know what you think! Reblogs and comments are always appreciated! 💛

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[svngiem-remade]

PHOTO ALBUM | hhj

🧸 pairing. hwang hyunjin + gn!reader

synopsis. your best friend's birthday was right around the corner, and as you were in the process of deciding which pictures you should print for the photo album you got him as a present, you finally admit that maybe you never got over your crush on him.

🌙 wc. 2.2k | au. nonidol!au; college!au; childhood friend to lovers; fluff

You were seven when you met Hyunjin. 

It was a warm, sunny day— the birds were chirping and the smell of flowers and freshly cut grass filled your lungs as you happily skipped towards the moving truck, picking up a big cardboard box containing the stuff that used to fill the shelves of your now old bedroom. You secured it in your arms and took a few wobbly steps towards your new home, a few drops of sweat already starting to run down your forehead— and that was what it took for you to realize, a moment too late, that the box was just too heavy for you.

Thud. 

The cardboard box slipped away from your grasp and fell right on your almost bare feet, which made you wail out a pained, “MOM!” You dropped on the concrete, vision completely blurred out by tears as you sobbed and tried sliding your throbbing toes from beneath what felt to be as heavy as a thousand pounds of bricks. You sniffled and kept sobbing out, “M—mom! D—dad!” as hard as you could, but your voice was getting weaker by the second. 

Thankfully, though your parents still hadn't noticed your distress, a little boy who was riding his bycicle in the front yard right next to yours did. All your crying and sobbing prevented you from hearing his loud gasp and subsequent running towards your hunched figure. You opened your eyes as a blurb of colors crouched down in front of you, “Please, s—stop crying, I’ll help you— ” the boy said, panic filling his sweet voice as you kept weeping loudly, “Wait— here, I’ll try lifting this up, okay?” he gulped, and you nodded profusely. You just wanted to stop that terrible pain that now was starting to shoot up your ankles.

“Yes, ple—please, it hurts s—so much!” you hiccuped, wiping your tears away hastily and clasping your hands around your ankles for extra pull, since you weren't 100% sure you’d be able to slide them out otherwise.

“I’ll be counting to three, okay?” he said as he placed his bent fingers under the gap crushing your darkening feet. He turned to look at your face, your quivering bottom lip, tear-stained cheeks and trembling arms broke his small heart, but gave him extra motivation to help you out, “So! One… Two…” 

“Three!” he exclaimed, using all his strength to pull up the heavy cardboard box just enough to let you free. 

You let out a sigh of relief as you felt the heavy weight come off, pulling your ankles closer to yourself and immediately starting to stroke your throbbing, darkening toes, though tears built up in your eyes once again as you realized you couldn't feel them, “They are broken! Brok—en! Th—that’s not f—fair!” you sobbed, burying your face between your knees.

The boy pouted and hugged your trembling body gently, rubbing his hands up and down your back in an attempt to soothe you. You sniffled and hugged him back, now loudly crying on his shoulder, “You live in this house, right? Let me help you get u—” he started saying, but got interrupted by your mom’s panicked voice.

“Sweetie! Oh my God, I’m so sorry! We were upstairs moving some furniture around and didn't hear you!” your mom said, running over to your small figures and crouching down to check on your feet, which looked completely wrecked. She shot a grateful gaze at the boy that was still comforting you, “Thank you so much for taking care of them.” she said with a small smile. He nodded.

In the meantime, you’d just realized your clothes were completely soaked in your own sweat and a horrible pain was shooting in your head due to the prolonged time the hot summer sun had been mercilessly hitting you on the head, it felt like you were burning up. “Too hot…” you managed to grunt, and the boy cradling you, wordlessly, took off his colorful baseball cap and secured it on your own head instead, giving you an encouraging smile when you wiped off your tears and looked up at him with a pout.

He ended the hug suddenly, causing your bottom lip to quiver again, so he gasped and hugged you again, “Hey, hey, no need to cry! You’ll be just fine now, your mom's here, she’s going to take you inside and take care of you.” you sniffled and nodded, “I’m Hyunjin, by the way!” he said with a big grin, and you mirrored it without even thinking about it.

And ever since he basically had to carry you inside of your new house, given that you just wouldn't let him go, a day hasn't gone by without either of you hearing from or seeing the other. You always had to know and let the other know what you were up to, who you were with and find even the smallest gap between your very different schedules to hang out, be it during the day or at the dead of night. 

Everything you and Hyunjin ever seemed to talk about to your other friends was, in some way, related to the other, summer and winter vacations were always spent together, you were each other’s declared-undeclared cuddle buddies and even picked up similar interests up to spend more time together, allegedly, though none of you would ever admit it.

You were Platonic Soulmates, as you both liked to put it. 

But as you sat on the floor of your shared apartment and looked through the seemingly endless pictures you took with Hyunjin from day 1 ‘till today, wondering which ones you should print to fill the slots of the new photo album you’d just bought as a gift for his upcoming birthday, you realised that maybe, just maybe, you never got over your small —big— crush on him.

And it was so painfully obvious.

You’ve been scrolling through the pictures on your phone and looking through the already printed ones in your box of old memories all afternoon, and you noticed the lingering gazes you always seemed to throw at him in all of them— be it in candid photos taken by your friends or random selfies with him. 

But how could you deny the way you blushed when he complimented one of your flower paintings for the first time as children, or the way your heart fluttered when he started showing interest in your hobby, sweetly saying it was because of you and how cute you looked when you were concentrating?

And after you moved in together to be closer to your university and split the rent, your feelings grew even more. Seeing your crush dry his hair with a towel as he walked around your apartment half-naked, how he cared for you when you felt sick, him using the hair treatment you’d gifted him months ago with a big smile— it all made you think he may reciprocate your feelings.

But, “Hmpf— Who am I kidding?” you huffed as you stared at your lockscreen picture, which showed off your latest picture with Hyunjin; both on your mutual friend’s couch with your legs swung over his lap, one of his hands gripping your thigh as you laughed about something, not even realising one of your friends was taking a picture of you until he sent it to you the next day. As always, you had an enamoured look on your face, “Why do I like him so much anyways?” you mumbled, pouting at Kkami, who was lazily walking towards you to cuddle after a long nap on her fluffy dog bed.

She nudged your arm with her nose, as if she wanted to comfort you, before climbing on your crossed legs and yawning, “Oh. You—You like someone?” you heard a stutter behind you, and you turned around, facing Hyunjin.

He looked so good in his usual blue jeans and baggy t-shirt, covered by a big cardigan you’d made yourself for him when you tried out a knitting class together. Your heart fluttered— it was the first time you’d seen him wear it, “Is that the one I made you? Is it comfortable enough?” you asked softly as you looked up at him, trying to avoid answering his question.

Hyunjin sighed and placed down the multitude of bags he’d been carrying around for hours, then stretched, “Yes, it is. And it’s extremely comfortable.” he said, taking quick strides across the room with his long legs, and crouching next to you, placing a hand on your head, “Oh, you bought a photo albu—” he started saying as you widened your eyes. Shit.

Before you could even think, you yelled— “Don’t look!” and tackled him down, pinning him to the ground by the wrists. Shock showed up on his gentle features, before he pouted his plump lips. It took everything in you to stop yourself from leaning down to connect them with your own, not knowing that was all the boy under you dreamed about as well, “Don’t make that face!” you whined when he gave you his puppy eyes. That bastard, he knew they were your weakness.

“But I’m curious…” he protested, turning his head to try to take a peek at what you were trying to hide, “I swear, Y/N! I’m going to scream if you don’t let me go.” Hyunjin whined.

“Come on, Hwang. Stop being drama—” you stopped talking when his gaze suddenly turned serious and he frowned.

“I won't look if you answer my question.” he whispered, looking you in the eyes. Fuck. You thought he forgot.

“Wha—” you started, breaking eye contact.

He rolled his eyes and clenched his jaw, freeing one of his hands from your grip before squishing your cheeks gently to turn your face towards him, “Don’t play dumb with me, please. You’ve been avoiding it for far too long now.” he whispered, his minty breath hitting your face delicately.

You felt your face burning up and you closed your eyes— you didn't think you could handle his gaze without spilling out your feelings immediately, “I-I’m not playing dumb, I-I just don’t like anyone, tha-that’s why I never answer.”

“Bullshit. I literally heard you say, and I quote ‘Why do I like him so much anyway?’” you gulped and bit your lip, now looking him in the eyes, “What, am I not important enough to know who my best friend is in love with or what? Who is it, hm? Jeongin? Minho? Cha—” he rambled without end, but now you had enough. Enough.

“Fuck, Hyunjin, it’s YOU! It’s you I have a crush on! Is it not fucking obvious?!” you blurted out, and he widened his eyes, dropping the hold on your cheeks. Your eyes watered as you balled your fists on his torso, looking down at your hands, ashamed, “I’ve been in love with you ever since we were seven, and coming home and having dinner together, cuddling in front of the tv or noticing how you always toast a slice of bread for me before you head out to your lectures, seeing how painfully obvious it is that I like you from the way I look at you in basically any picture we ever took together fucking pains me, because I know you don't and will never see me that way.” you cried in the tense silence of your darkening living room, sliding off of his body to sit up next to him. He still wouldn't mutter out a word.

I lost him. I lost my best friend. Why couldn't I keep my shitty mouth shut? I ruined everyth— “Who.” you shot your head up.

“What?” your voice cracked, and you tilted your head in confusion when you saw his wide grin.

Your breath caught in your throat when he tackled you down on the floor, just like you did moments before with him. Your teary eyes latched onto his, looking for anything, anything that could mean that that was the last time you’d ever interact, bracing yourself to be told that he wanted you out of your apartment— though all you could find was fondness. One of his hands slowly found your darkening cheek, caressing it delicately, making you feel as if you were in heaven. “Who.” he leaned down, pecking your forehead softly, and you closed your eyes, “Told.” a peck on the nose, “You.” on your other cheek, “That.” and on the lips. 

Your eyes opened wide, “Hyun—” you mumbled as his pillow-like lips repeatedly tasted your own sweetly, lingering on them more and more by the second.

Your breath quickened, your trembling fingers soon finding themselves between his soft locs as he swept his hot tongue on your bottom lip slowly, tasting your sweet aroma for the first time— his dark eyes never leaving yours, conveying much more than words ever could; but still, a continuous back and forth of breathy “I love you” and “I love you so much more” were the only words either of you seemed to remember the existence of for the rest of the evening. 

please reblog, comment and like, feedback is very much appreciated, plus, I love reading your thoughts!

→ masterlist.

taglist : @strayingawayy

© SVNGIEM — do not copy, translate or claim as your own.

[thetomorrowshow]

when to hold 'em

ur honor i love the flower husbands

~

The crown of antlers is in his hands.

He holds it, turns it, examines every angle.

Then places it on his head.

Scott looks up, across the silent plateau, to the darkness that gathers on the other side.

Sìín kuvi ndakuatura nu Ndíoxī.

-

"You've got this!" a little boy shouts, pumping one fist in the air.

Scott rolls his eyes over to Jimmy. "I thought you said this would be private?" he comments archly.

Jimmy shrugs, looking a little sheepish. "Word gets out. Especially to kids."

"Right. And since you and I were the only ones who knew about this, the children found out through. . . ?"

"I have no idea."

There are six or seven children sitting or standing in the long grass of the field, some tens of meters away. Jimmy waves to them. All but one wave back.

Scott pinches the bridge of his nose. "I don't want anyone getting hurt, Jimmy," he bites out.

"You won't hurt anyone," Jimmy insists. "They're far enough away that they aren't even an issue. They just want to see some magic!"

That's the problem.

Scott's curse isn't a party trick. It isn't something to be gawked at and applauded by children. It's a curse, barely controlled, and a very dangerous one at that.

And it isn't just that he doesn't want them getting hurt. That's most of it, of course, but. . . . 

Scott really doesn't want an audience. He doesn't want people to see him fail.

(Last time he failed, he was surrounded—by elves and enemies alike.)

Something of his thoughts must show on his face, because Jimmy just makes a sound kind of like a sigh and squeezes his hand.

"You're all right," he says quietly. "I'm not leaving. You can control it when I'm here, right?"

"Control is a strong word," mutters Scott. It implies that he can do a lot more than keep an imaginary door shut.

Not to mention, he hasn't been able to let go of Jimmy. They've learned over the past couple of days that when they separate, Scott loses whatever hold he has. It had been unpleasant that first morning, when Scott woke late to find that Jimmy had already gotten back to work, leaving him coated in frost and ice weighing down the tent.

He really has no control if the magic is untamed without the tamer's touch. In all fairness, Jimmy has more control over the magic than Scott does.

But Jimmy just smiles (so brightly that Scott can't help but reluctantly smile back) and points to a patch of wildflowers a good fifty feet away from them.

"Shoot ice at that," he instructs, and Scott, with another glance at the children and more than a bit of trepidation, raises his hand toward the flowers.

He pushes, releasing a little bit of his hold on the magic, letting it conduct out through his arm, pulsing and freezing and—

Frost and ice shoot from his fingertips in a barrage (and the force has him stumbling back a step), about half of it hitting the flowers and the other half falling around them, with some icicles stabbing into the ground a good several feet away.

Scott quickly reasserts his hold on the magic and pulls his arm close to himself, pressing his side into Jimmy.

It's terrifying, using this magic. This magic that, just a few days past, had been using him.

There's no way of knowing just how much damage he's capable of. Based on what he did at the town, Scott thinks he could practically level a village.

It isn't nice, having that much power.

"Whoa!" a young boy screams, and all the other children join in the excitement, chattering about the magic.

"Nice one!" Jimmy says, dragging Scott over to look, sword bouncing on his back.

The flowers are shredded, heads torn from stems and petals torn from heads. A bit of grass is pulled up in a streak, dirt stark against the yellow stalks of grass. Frost coats the area, shards of ice stabbing into the ground.

Scott feels a little sick, looking at it.

That could have hit a person.

If he hadn't figured out that touching Jimmy gave him a measure of control, he could have killed anyone in the camp.

Jimmy's already tugging him back, probably wanting to practice again. He wants Scott to get good at his aim, and Scott isn't sure if it's so he feels more safe with himself, or so he can be more useful in attacks.

"I'm just a weapon," he says offhandedly. Bit of a fall from king of the elves.

"Come on, now," Jimmy says consolingly. "You're a beautiful weapon."

Scott snorts. "Try that one again."

"My favorite weapon?"

"If I could let go of your hand, I would."

Jimmy grins. "What I'm hearing is I can be as obnoxious as I want, and you can't do anything."

"Oh, you—"

Their flirting is cut off as a child crosses the invisible boundary, skipping up toward them.

"Stay back there," Jimmy commands, voice ringing with sudden authority, stepping forward with an arm out.

Scott glances at him, more to make sure that it's still his Jimmy there than anything else. He forgets, sometimes, that Jimmy actually has power. Not just the power of a ruler, either—some sort of unknown, hidden power had to have played a part in his survival, and his ability to heal others. Scott's seen him heal so many of the survivors that they just rescued, just by pressing a hand to their wounds. Jimmy, somehow, is a living, walking, healing miracle.

As much as they're teasing each other today, Scott can't help but feel a little hollow inside. It's still so hard to be here, to hold the hand of his once-dead betrothed.

Not that he has any other option.

Not that he doesn't want to.

The child halts immediately, waits for Jimmy and Scott to come toward her.

She's a little older than the other children, and one that Scott recognizes—from when, he doesn't know—, her scales like freckles spattered across her cheeks and nose.

"Codfather!" she says, standing at attention. "We've found something."

-

"I'm honestly just surprised it made it all the way down here," Scott muses, turning the satchel over in his hands. Below it, on the table in Jimmy's planning tent, lies the crown of antlers and a thin grey book, instantly recognizable as the one he had forgotten to give Lizzie.

"That would be the enchantments," Jimmy says, leaning on Scott's shoulder. When Scott turns his head to raise an eyebrow at him, he elaborates.

"Well, look, see the way the stag kind of shimmers? That's a protection kind of enchantment, to keep the bag from tearing. And the cod is a homebound enchantment—wherever you are, it'll find you."

Scott blinks.

How on earth would he be able to tell that just by looking at it?

"Are you making things up?" he asks dubiously.

Jimmy frowns. "What? No. My people showed me every step of the process when they were making this. We had a promising young Cod—Everarda—she was going to Gem's Academy, and she enchanted the thread. And Theo attached the strap—I think Jesse did part of the bag itself, and—"

"And the crown," Scott murmurs, picking it up with more reverence than he's shown it in some time.

It still shines, despite traveling down river for weeks and ending up buried in the mud. Its glow, perhaps, is more due to its divinity than any amount of polish.

How had it found him here?

Aeor, no doubt.

Scott's been kind of ignoring his god, as of late. Sure, he's said a couple of prayers here and there—some of them sobbing, silent prayers in his frozen world, others rote repetition and dull words—but he hasn't exactly been the most faithful of chosen ones.

It isn't that he doesn't respect Aeor. He still worships his god. It's just . . . easier, he supposes, to pretend as if this is all there is. His story ends here, and he dwindles away.

Yet every night, he tosses and turns, struck by recurring dreams. Dreams that have an oddly golden quality, dreams in which he has the crown of antlers and is alone against Xornoth.

Dreams in which he thinks in a tongue that is unrecognizable to him.

He's been ignoring the dreams, hoping them to be nothing—and in so doing, he's been ignoring hints from his god.

The fact that the crown is here again, one of the artifacts necessary to defeat Xornoth—and he doesn't think he really needs the boots anymore—feels like a bit more than a hint.

His stomach swoops unpleasantly. If Aeor's sending him messages of this magnitude, he clearly wants Scott to get going.

It's not like Scott can take on Xornoth with nothing changing. Xornoth almost killed him last time. He still has no idea what he's doing. Not to mention, Xornoth is surely even more powerful by this point, surrounded by soldiers and Rivendell's magic and who knows what else. There's no chance of survival.

Yet Aeor is pushing him. Aeor is telling him to go up against his brother another time and fail. Aeor is sending him to his doom.

And Scott's going to do it.

He doesn't want to. He wants to stay here, with Jimmy, in this little temporary civilization forever. He wants to forget about the world outside, forget that everything will likely collapse in a matter of months.

He doesn't want to die.

He doesn't want to fail again.

But he has been feeling like he's living on borrowed time.

And he can rub his thumb along the light scars on Jimmy's knuckles and wonder if he feels the same.

"What's this?" Jimmy asks, drawing Scott from his morbid spiraling by picking up the grey book.

"I—I don't know," Scott says, still reeling from his moment of revelation. "Something Oceanic, I think. I meant to give it to Lizzie."

He's going to die. He's being sent to his death like a lamb to the slaughter.

The long hours spent in Gem's secret library seem like a lifetime ago—a time when devastation was fresh, when Jimmy was dead yet the world seemed more hopeful than it does now. He barely recalls how they found the book in the first place.

"And it stayed in your bag the whole time," Jimmy muses, turning it this way and that. "What's it about?"

"I don't know, I couldn't read it."

"Hm." Jimmy flips the book open to the first page, while Scott gently sets the crown back down and turns to the young teen who had found the items.

"And there was nothing else there?" he questions.

She shakes her head. "Nothing that I saw, Lord Smajor. I can show you the place, if you like."

It's unlikely that the boots would have made it there. It's not like they had some sort of tracking spell, after all. It's more likely Lizzie found them, washed up on one of her islands.

"That won't be necessary," he tells the girl. "If anyone finds magical boots that burn to the touch, however, find me."

She nods, takes a few cautious steps back. Scott waits expectantly for Jimmy to dismiss her, but when he doesn't, she just shrugs and bounds off.

Scott looks back to Jimmy, who has stepped uncomfortably far away, the fingers of his right hand just brushing Scott's waist. Scott steps more into reach, peeks over at the book that Jimmy is so intently studying.

It looks much the same as he remembers, if a bit more wet. Strange, faded blue letters, made large with thick strokes. Not much of a conceivable pattern to split up the words (unless it's a character based language?), or even a way to tell if it's written from right to left or not.

But Jimmy is scrutinizing this old little book, mouth moving slightly as his eyes slowly travel across the page.

"Can you read it?" Scott asks incredulously. Jimmy can barely read Common, how on Aeor's great earth is he reading whatever this is?

"I—I think so?" Jimmy says, looking up from the book. "I've never seen this language before. At least, not that I can remember."

Right. Amnesia.

"I think I used to be able to write in this," continues Jimmy, voice hushed as his eyes return to the book. "That's crazy. How old is this?"

"Very," Scott says. Then, still confused, "Can amnesia make it so that you forget an entire language?"

Jimmy doesn't answer. Instead, he points a shaking finger at a point on the page, letting go of Scott (who presses his arm to Jimmy's, maintaining their vital contact) to do so.

What's so exciting about that part? Jimmy's suddenly gone white as mountain's snow, eyes watering as if he's about to cry. What could possibly bring him to tears so quickly? Is this a book of prophecies? Is Jimmy reading about the doubtless end that awaits them?

But Jimmy, voice weak, doesn't say anything like that. Instead, he says, looking over at Scott, "This . . . this is about me."

-

"It's a journal, of some kind," Jimmy explains, later, sitting on the grass in his tent, a plate (which was really more of a carefully sanded piece of wood) of berries and two bowls of thin soup between them. "I think Lizzie wrote it."

Scott frowns. "Lizzie? Are you sure?"

That just can't be possible. Gem's library had been sealed for likely hundreds of years. Jimmy's only—well, he only showed up ten years ago, and Lizzie—Lizzie's been around for a while, but fish hybrids don't live for longer than the average human lifespan.

Right? Lizzie's been. . . . 

"Lizzie joined the House Blossom Alliance over twenty years ago," Scott says aloud. He was there when she showed up to her first meeting, he remembers that. She'd seemed young, small, hair falling into her face, clearly dressed in her nicest of clothing—which was almost meager compared to the glory of some of the other empires.

Still, she had commanded the respect of all of them, speaking boldly and making firm promises. Scott remembers being begrudgingly impressed, though not quite as much as the boy Mezelean Prince, who repeatedly urged his father (in a voice a bit too loud to be a whisper) to arrange an alliance.

If Lizzie had only inherited her kingdom at that age, then there was no way she had been able to write whatever that book was. Neither she nor Jimmy would even be born for centuries.

"Lizzie joined then . . . and none of us really knew much about the Ocean Kingdom, but we'd seen their buildings begin to rise above the water and she seemed legitimate. . . . And then you showed up about a decade later and started reaching out to empires, didn't you?"

"Why are you reciting history to me?"

Scott snorts. "This is barely history, more of a contemporary review," he tells Jimmy, adjusting so that Jimmy's heel isn't digging into his thigh. They've contorted themselves a bit oddly, perhaps, one of Jimmy's legs reaching around their dinner to keep physical contact with Scott, but there's only so long that they can hold hands in a day.

"I just don't understand how the books came to be in Gem's hidden library."

"Maybe it wasn't all that hidden?" Jimmy suggests. "Maybe Lizzie found it and put these books in."

"Are you sure Lizzie wrote it?"

"Yeah, it's her handwriting."

"That is definitely not her handwriting," Scott says, pointing to the open book beside Jimmy. "That isn't anyone's handwriting. That's an ancient Oceanic script that nobody remembers."

"I remember it," Jimmy says, popping a berry into his mouth.

"Yes, but you don't really, right? You can read it, and write it, but you don't know how you know it or where you learned it. How do you know it even talks about you?"

"Lizzie's writing to me in parts of it."

"How do you know it's you? And not someone else named Jimmy?"

Jimmy frowns. "It's not exactly my name, you know. It's a word that means me. Nobody else would have that."

It does not make sense.

None of this makes any sense.

"Sounds inefficient for a language," Scott murmurs absently, ignoring the pang in his chest as he remembers that Jimmy died and now is back so what does sense even matter?

"Right, it changed to use names as the Ocean Kingdom grew. Barely anybody even knew this form of it by the time. . . ."

Jimmy trails off, eyes unfocusing with a concerning suddenness. His lips move ever so slightly, forming unsaid words.

"Jimmy?" tries Scott, reaching over to tap on his knee. Jimmy blinks, eyes refocusing on Scott.

"Sorry, what was I saying?" he asks, brows furrowed.

And if that isn't strange, Scott doesn't know what is.

"Something about the language developing over time?" Scott prompts.

Jimmy bites his lip, looks askance. "I don't . . . I don't know. I don't remember. I don't. . . ."

He doesn't look like he's going to cry, exactly, but he certainly looks troubled, and his eyes catch on the book.

"None of it makes sense," he says quietly, and Scott could not agree more. "Lizzie wrote that. I know she wrote that. I don't know how. And it's . . . I need to talk to her."

"It's from before you lost your memory, isn't it?" Scott asks after a moment. He isn't sure how far he can push this, but he feels a sense of idle curiosity. What does the book say? Why does it worry Jimmy? How did it get in the Crystal Cliffs secret library, unrecorded and forgotten?

Jimmy nods. "It's gonna eat at me, Scott," he says, already sounding tired. "Lizzie's writing about all sorts of things that I don't remember. They just don't make sense. I need to talk to her, figure out if she remembers any of this."

"You're saying we need to go to the Ocean Kingdom."

Again, Jimmy nods. "Yep. At some point." He looks away, sighs, briefly looking far too old yet much too young to be leading a camp of refugees, let alone a kingdom.

Jimmy's always had moments like that, when his bearing makes it obvious to Scott that Jimmy stumbled into this role ten years ago and gave it his all, despite his lack of experience.

He doesn't deserve this—war, death, pain.

Jimmy doesn't deserve any of this.

But Jimmy doesn't dwell, even if Scott does. Instead, he looks back up to meet Scott's eyes, lips quirked in a smile. "What about you? What's with the crown?"

Right. The crown.

Scott swallows.

He and Jimmy have talked a little. Just enough to air out any pressing concerns, for Scott to realize that his conflicting feelings were not unwarranted but unneeded, and for Jimmy to accept that Scott is struggling and help him feel assured of his love as often as he can.

But they haven't talked much, despite literally never leaving one another's side. They've been so busy keeping the camp running and planning attacks and defenses and experimenting with Scott's curse that they haven't been able to sit down and talk, like they're doing now.

Does Scott tell him what it means?

Does Scott tell him that by sending the crown, Aeor intends for Scott to go up against Xornoth again, just to fail as he already has? Does he tell Jimmy that this little respite was nice, but it can't last forever?

Maybe he can put it off. Maybe he can stay with Jimmy just a little bit longer, in the relative peace of the camp.

It's selfish. Scott ought to at least try to fight Xornoth right now, if only for the elves in captivity.

But Scott's kind of tired of trying to save the world. Let someone else do it, for a change.

He forces a smile, fiddles with a berry between his fingers. "It's just a Rivendell treasure. You needn't worry about it."

He'll stay, Scott decides, as Jimmy gives him a soft, loving smile. He'll stay as long as he can.

-

Which isn't very long.

As it turns out, their little frozen-town trick from the week before didn't go over well with Mythland, and it's only the next morning that a woman comes running to the planning tent, declaring that she'd seen three unfamiliar men searching for the camp while she was on patrol. That means that Mythland knows roundabouts where the first camp is (the newly-formed second is off to the northeast, and as far as they know, hasn't been discovered), and the probability of attack is high.

It's time to move, then. Scott spends all morning running from place to place with Jimmy, helping children and disabled and those unwilling to fight pack up and prepare to move to the second camp, from whence a proper plan will be formed.

It isn't terribly easy to mobilize a camp of hundreds of people in only one day. Many of them, in the short month or so that they've been here, have settled in as if it were their home. Some of the families have collected possessions, strangely enough—Scott watches an elderly man argue with Jimmy for almost ten minutes in some strange Oceanic dialect over not wanting to part with his chair. Jimmy responds patiently, but Scott can feel his body tense more and more as he responds in the dolphin-like clicks and whistles of the dialect.

Finally, Jimmy pats the man on the shoulder and says something in a low voice to him, then moves on.

"What'd you say?" asks Scott, hanging on to Jimmy's arm as they walk away, surrounded by the hustle and bustle of hurried packing.

"I told him he can leave the chair or die in it, I don't care," Jimmy says breezily, and Scott almost laughs.

"One of these days you need to learn diplomacy."

"I said I'd go find his husband, he can be diplomatic."

It takes an hour to find him, however, because at every turn, Jimmy is pulled aside and asked a question, called over for help, or stopped to listen to some sort of plan or explanation. The camp is quickly emptying, guides hurrying back and forth between the camps to lead more people to the safer location.

"I hope we aren't being watched," Scott says offhandedly, watching a group of a dozen or so Cod head out, laden with makeshift packs. "Then they'd find the location of the other camp, too."

Jimmy doesn't reply, just points beyond the treeline, out toward the outskirts of their massive camp. There, past the chaos of destroying shelters and striking tents, Scott sees several people in light armor, each carrying a weapon, making circles around the camp.

"Patrol is doubled," Jimmy says shortly. "All the way down to Camp Two."

"How many people are in Camp Two?"

"We have . . . what, two hundred joining them?" Jimmy guesses, readjusting the sword strapped to his back. "So they'll be up to around five hundred. It'll drop, though, as they send us fighters tomorrow."

They're leaving tomorrow, too. Everyone who is left in the camp tomorrow at noon (the able fighters, that is) will be marching out. The plan is to head out toward the Ocean Kingdom, add their little force of four hundred to Lizzie's armies, and from there plan with Lizzie a way to try and defeat Xornoth.

Scott should feel better about it. He'd felt for so long that Jimmy's small goals were pointless, after all.

But he knows now that it's hopeless to try and sway this war. Scott feels like there's a rain cloud looming over their heads, ready to strike down with lightning and set the camp ablaze. Death surely lurks just beyond their line of sight.

There's no way to defeat Xornoth. His power will only grow, the God of Darkness fed by the fear and torture he brings to the land.

Maybe Aeor wants Scott to take a shot at it just so that he can go to the afterlife with full honor. Elvish history and religious lore is fairly vague on anything other than the separation of the afterlife, but it's always had a sense of peace and happiness. Maybe Aeor knows that Scott is bound to die, and wants to hurry it along so that he can get some peace for once.

For a god that sends him frustrating hints all the time, he's really outdone himself with this one.

He's going to die. Aeor is sending him to his death.

Jimmy notices something's wrong, somehow. Jimmy, who never notices anything, even when he's not busy with mobilizing an entire camp over the space of a day and a half, notices that something is wrong, which means that Scott isn't hiding his thoughts very well.

He used to be so much better at this. Back before he met Jimmy.

But Jimmy frowns at some point during the day, rubs his thumb over Scott's knuckles, and asks how he's doing.

And when Scott asks why Jimmy would even be concerned, Jimmy points out his wings and how stiff they are, and the way his fingers are repeatedly tapping against his side, and the anxious frown on his lips, and asks if he's having sensory overload.

No, he's just thinking about his own imminent death. Nothing to worry about there.

He wants Jimmy to live. He wants Jimmy to gather his little force and leave the land of the Empires, go somewhere without demons and death, somewhere his people can rebuild.

He doesn't want Jimmy to be captured and subjected to torture, or killed, or whatever evil is in mind for him.

He wants Jimmy to be happy.

If it comes to it, Scott decides right then and there, he'll split off from the group. He'll leave a note, telling Jimmy to get out when it all goes wrong, and fly to Rivendell alone, ready to confront his demon brother once and for all.

And then he'll die.

Right.

He's going to die.

-

They set out at noon the next day, Scott's satchel uncomfortably heavy with the weight of both the crown and general travel supplies—some food, first aid, and a bowl and spoon. Jimmy hikes beside him at the front of the pack, the mysterious runes carved into the old leather of the hilt of his sword sparkling in the sun.

If Scott had been in charge of this expedition to the Ocean Kingdom, he would have set out at dusk rather than noon, the hot sun beating down on their backs. He barely gets half an hour into the march before shrugging off his coat and draping it over his head, sweat dripping into his eyes.

Elves aren't made for heat, not noonday, marching-through-tall-prairie-grass, not-a-cloud-in-the-sky kind of heat. It's hot, but worse than that it's humid, so Scott has to deal with not only the burning sun but also the thick air that threatens to choke him. He stops frequently to take a sip from the waterskin bumping against his hip, to wipe the sweat from his brow, to pray for clouds, and he can only hope that his skin isn't burning beyond recognition.

At least last time he trekked through the plains, he was covered in ice. Now he's overheating, out of breath, and just generally exhausted.

And they haven't even been walking for a full day.

His wings itch to take flight, glide through the air and feel the wind on his face, make it to the Ocean Kingdom in under an hour instead of the several day journey that the force has embarked on.

They're walking the whole way, despite the fact that the nearby river would be a much faster way to travel for Cod. Jimmy says that the river is being watched intently, and that four hundred rebels is a little conspicuous. They'll be expected to take the river route, not go around.

And Scott also suspects that Jimmy doesn't want to leave anyone behind. Not all of the rebels are native Cod, and not all are capable of breathing underwater—like him, for example.

Not that Jimmy would change the plans and safety of his entire camp for just Scott.

They walk all afternoon in even warmer weather (and it can't really be that warm, because all of the Cod are doing fine, but Scott is really just not suited for this), and they're about to press onward after a blessed break for supper when one of the scouts sent on ahead comes running back, a little dot on the rolling yellow-green plains ahead that gradually becomes larger.

When they arrive, huffing and puffing, green in the face, they salute Jimmy and bow a little to Scott, accepting a drink of water.

"There's a small Mythland camp up ahead," they manage after a moment to catch their breath, sweeping their sweaty brown bangs out of their eyes. "An expedition or scouting group, probably. Fifty soldiers at most."

"We stop here to rest," Jimmy decides immediately, without waiting to consult the two Cod that he's chosen to be his seconds-in-command. "We'll continue in a couple of hours. Can you lead me to the camp?"

The young Cod nods, and before Scott knows it, they're guiding him and Jimmy away, a group of five of the stealthiest Cod accompanying them.

Scott doesn't really think it's a good idea to go spying—not when both he and Jimmy are rather high-profile, and letting go of Jimmy could have disastrous consequences making it impossible to split up—but who is he to make the rules around here?

And maybe he just doesn't want to go because his legs and back ache from the journey thus far, and his excessive clothing is all stuck to him with his own sweat.

Or maybe he doesn't want to go because he's going to die in a matter of days and he wants to spend as much time talking to Jimmy as possible instead of silent surveillance.

But as dusk falls and the world darkens, Scott finds himself lying on his belly at the peak of a small, ridge-like hill, peering down at a small camp of Mythland soldiers.

There's probably fifty men or so, most of whom are preparing or eating an evening meal between the six rows of tents. None of them are in armor, milling around the two campfires on either end of the camp, over each of which is a pot of something cooking (probably a stew).

"Fire is good," Jimmy murmurs. "It'll throw off their vision. We can probably get pretty close."

He points to a tent on the edge of the second row away from them, a bit bigger than the others, which two men are currently exiting. “I bet the man in charge is there. I want to know what his plans are.”

"Can we risk it?" Scott whispers back, tearing his eyes away from the camp to focus on Jimmy's shadowed face, two bright streaks across his vision from the light of the fires. "If we get caught, the whole operation is done for."

Jimmy clicks his tongue, reaffirms his grip on Scott's hand. "If we get caught, you fly us out of there, okay?"

"What? Jimmy, I haven't flown in weeks—my wings were broken, I don't even know if they'll support my weight, let alone—"

"Then we won't get caught," Jimmy says simply.

Right. Because that's the way that works.

Still, Scott only sighs and nods, and after a few long moments of silent communication with the other five rebels, Jimmy and Scott crawl back down the hill, sliding back on hands and knees until they're far enough back that they can stand fully.

They wait there, silent, until dark has fully fallen and the air cools, various nighttime critters hopping out of their hiding places to make their voices heard. Scott leaps back in surprise when a field mouse crawls across his foot, briefly losing contact with Jimmy and sending an icicle straight through the mouse, skewering it to the ground.

Jimmy sucks his breath in between his teeth. Scott cringes, gripping Jimmy's bicep and feeling his control acclimate again.

He hates this. He hates not being in control. He hates being cursed.

"Just . . . try not to do that again?" Jimmy says after a moment.

Scott nods wordlessly.

They don't say anything after that, and soon enough they can't really see anything beyond a foot ahead of them, and Jimmy begins to lead the way around the curve of the hill.

It isn't too difficult to move through the tall grass quietly, crouched over to hide in it, but Scott finds himself gritting his teeth every time Jimmy stumbles over a stalk or tramples some grass. Can't he just be silent? Scott has massive wings behind him and he isn't getting caught on anything, it can't be that hard.

He has to remind himself every couple of steps that different people have different skills. Elves have light feet and are better at sneaking than most, after all. It isn't Jimmy's fault that he's a flat-footed Cod.

"Left," Jimmy breathes in his ear, and Scott freezes. "There's someone on watch."

Scott looks around, trying to get his eyes to acclimate to the darkness. The firelight is throwing off his heightened vision (just as Jimmy had predicted it would for the enemy) , but he can maybe see a figure standing out in the grass to their right.

Now that he knows the man is there, if he pays attention he can hear him. He can hear the slight wheeze that accompanies each breath, the almost-silent rustle of clothing.

They shift left, Scott keeping an eye on the shadowy figure, making sure he doesn't head this way.

But as they move, Scott's still-alert ears pick up another sound, distant and almost indistinct.

Ba-thump. . . . Ba-thump. . . . Ba-thump. . . .

It might be his imagination, but it seems to be growing louder.

"Do you hear something?" Scott ventures to whisper, glancing around to make sure the guard doesn't hear him. Jimmy shrugs.

"No. What is it?"

He doesn't see anything. But he can still hear the rhythmic thudding, ever so slightly louder. Maybe it's his heartbeat?

Ba-thump. Ba-thump. Ba-thump.

Jimmy continues moving, bent over almost double, masked by the tall grass. Scott follows, their fingers linked and connecting them, swallowing back his bad feeling.

It sounds like a drum. A beating drum coming closer and closer.

Ba-thump, ba-thump, ba-thump, ba-thump—

"Are you—" Scott starts, before something clicks in his memory and he knows exactly what the sound is.

Uh-oh.

Ba-thump ba-thump ba-thump ba-thump ba-thump ba-thump—

Scott drags Jimmy back by his tunic, pulling him down on his back in the grass, the sword in its scabbard jostling against Scott's arm (flattened under Jimmy as they both lie supine on the ground). Scott presses his free hand to Jimmy's mouth, silencing the question about to burst from his lips.

Just in time, as a horse and rider come barreling through, barely two meters away from them, hooves thudding against the grass and saddlebags clanking. The horse gallops across the field to the camp, which is still far enough away that they can't hear anything more than the general bustle of a camp getting ready for bed.

Scott carefully sits back up once he's sure the danger has passed (and Jimmy does too, with considerably more noise), watches as the rider dismounts, tying the horse's reins to the post that's been set up at the edge of camp, next to the pack ponies that are lazily munching on the grass.

"He looks important," Jimmy whispers.

He does. The rider is wearing the official white surcoat of Mythland, a polished leather satchel strapped across his chest. He doesn't even unsaddle his horse, just continues on into the camp, stride slightly bowlegged.

Neither of them even have to say anything. Both Jimmy and Scott just move forward in sync, zigzagging from left to right, slower and slower the closer they get to the camp as the grass grows shorter, until they find themselves right behind the tent that the rider entered, the larger one that is luckily off to the side rather than in the center.

It's dangerous. There's a tent behind them a little ways, and others in their line of sight—made especially risky by the firelight emanating from one of the campfires, only a row away from them.

Still, nobody seems to be wandering about over here, and Scott trusts that either he'll hear them coming or Aeor will protect them.

Now, though, he needs to focus.

"Can you hear anything?" whispers Jimmy. Scott shushes him near silently, presses his ear up against the canvas. Jimmy does the same, his bad ear out toward the camp.

A couple of indistinguishable murmurings—pleasantries, if Scott had to guess—then the most obnoxious slurping Scott has ever heard—

"I don't believe I understand," a man's voice says, gruff and low, muffled through the tent wall. "The king wants us to abandon our course?"

"For the time being," a younger voice—the rider, Scott guesses—says.

"But we just sent our report. We've found the rebel camp. We need to attack before they move. I was expecting two thousand soldiers, not a messenger telling me to head to the coast."

"Everyone is being sent to the coast," the rider responds. "The rebel camp will still be here later."

"Or they'll all go hide in their little badger-holes. We could lose the Codlands if they get bold."

A chuckle. "It wouldn't take much to re-conquer them, I assure you. Especially without their ruler."

Scott squeezes Jimmy's hand. Jimmy squeezes back.

"I don't know," the first man says. "Something strange is going on with those rebels. Did you hear about Medokrill?"

"I don't bother myself with the names of their primitive villages."

"Froze. Overnight. Three men got frostbite."

"The weather of this place does not—"

"And in the morning, most of the Cod had vanished." The squeaking of a chair, another horrid slurp. "Now, I don't like that sort of coincidence. The town freezes—in August, mind—and that same night, the rebels strike and sneak everyone out of there. And only Medokrill froze. Even the prairie around it was untouched."

"What do you want me to do about it?" the rider asks after a moment. The other man chuckles.

"Keep it quiet, ideally. I don't know who or what has that kind of power, but I'm thinking the blame lies with those fairies. They might not be so neutral, after all.”

“I'm sure His Majesty would find that quite informative.”

“Remember that we don't want to scare our men, or give the Cod hope. Keep it quiet. But otherwise, you could get me my men so I can quash this rebellion."

The rider clicks his tongue. "The command is coming straight from His Majesty. Everyone is going to the coast for an attack."

"What could be so important—"

"The Ocean Queen is gone," the rider says.

Jimmy stiffens beside Scott. 

"She'll be arriving in Rivendell early tomorrow morning. The King intends to . . . delay her return, if you take my meaning. We attack while she's gone. By the time the day ends, we should have the upper hand and the fish will surrender within the week."

"Hm." The other man goes silent for a long moment. "I don't know how I feel about that. Tomorrow?"

"You're the last group to know, unfortunately. You should make it to the river in under an hour, and from there it will be several days' march to the coast itself. With any luck, the fighting will be done before you even arrive."

A long, drawn-out sigh. "And I don't suppose my little espionage group was small enough to escape the King's attention?"

"Every man, General. This could be the end of the war."

"Right. Well, it'll be morning before I can get my men moving. That wouldn't be too much of an issue, would it?"

"I suppose I might have stopped for the night before reaching your camp. Officially, I arrived tomorrow morning."

"Sure. And none of that stuff about the freeze leaves this tent, all right?"

"And you never heard a thing about the Ocean Queen's permanent little trip."

Another slurp that sets Scott's teeth on edge.

"Agreed. Have you been to the Capital lately?"

"Not in several weeks. Why?"

"Just wondering how the new market law is going."

"Ah. Well, I can tell you. . . ."

Jimmy tugs, lightly, on Scott's sleeve, and after a moment longer of listening to make sure they don't return to the earlier topic, Scott allows himself to be pulled.

They sneak back through the grass, not stopped by the sight of any sentry, off toward their vantage hill, around the side of it and to the back, where they find the other five rebels that they'd brought with them sitting cross-legged, conversing in whispers and pulling apart stalks of grass.

"Back to camp," Jimmy says shortly when they look up, and walks straight past them, pulling Scott with him.

Without a word, they follow him, stealing off in the direction of their resting soldiers, several hills away.

"What are we—" Scott whispers, but Jimmy shakes his head.

"Later."

Later.

How much later?

This is kind of important news, in Scott's opinion!

If Sausage is concentrating all his forces on the Ocean Kingdom because Lizzie's going to be in Rivendell for some reason, their whole mission is for nothing. They won't be able to strengthen her armies if they can't reach the ocean, but they can't go back—soon they'll be closed in, Mythland having conquered the Ocean Kingdom, so maybe they can flee to the Overgrown—but the general already suspects that the Overgrown is aiding them, and joining their ranks would only lead to an invasion—

"Who's there?" a guard calls, peering out into the darkness.

"It's us, Lanale," Jimmy says, and Scott stops to survey their rebel force.

It's too small. It's absolutely tiny. There's approximately four hundred of them, some as young as fourteen, ready to fight to try and free their country.

And that captain had just casually ordered two thousand soldiers to entirely wipe out their little force.

There's nothing they can do to help Lizzie against all of Mythland's armies. They won't even make a difference. They surely can't join the Overgrown, as it would lead to an attack. They can't stay here, not with Mythlanders combing the prairies for them.

He has no idea what Jimmy intends to do. He can't see any way out.

Yet Jimmy moves with purpose, and Scotr walks with him, picking through sleeping rebels, until Jimmy finds the woman he wants and shakes her awake.

She stretches, stands slowly, pushes her hair back. "Codfather," she yawns, clearly not-quite awake. "What do you need?"

"You're a good leader, Millie," Jimmy says, skipping pleasantries. "I need you to be in charge while I'm gone."

Millie blinks. "Gone? Gone where? What's happening?"

"I'm putting you and Emilio in charge," Jimmy explains, rather impatiently. "There's been a change in plans. You need to split up. You take most of the fighters over the river to the Overgrown, all right? Volunteer to join Katherine's army. Emilio needs to take fifty men and go back to Camp Two. Emilio will gather everyone who is able, and lead them to the Overgrown. Got it? Everyone is going to House Blossom."

"I—what?"

"Jimmy—" Scott starts—what is he talking about? That will only make things worse, and where will Jimmy be?—but Jimmy doesn't stop.

"Scott and I are leaving right now to Rivendell," he says firmly. "Can I trust you to lead these people to the Overgrown?"

Rivendell?

How?

Millie nods, all traces of sleepiness gone. "Of course, Codfather. And Emilio as well. They're a good fish."

Jimmy claps her on the shoulder once before turning away, pulling Scott back in the direction they came from.

"Wait!" Millie whisper-shouts, and Jimmy pauses, looks over his shoulder.

Millie gives him a grim nod. "Codspeed."

Jimmy nods back, once, then continues on.

"I'm sorry, what?" demands Scott, once they've retraced their path through the dozing force. "I—what are we—Rivendell, Jimmy? What—"

"We have to warn her," Jimmy says, and that may be true, but they can't just abandon the people here to go on a rescue mission miles and lifetimes away!

"Right, but it's logistically impossible—we ought to be headed to the Ocean Kingdom, warn her military commander, bef—"

"He literally told us where she was gonna be, we have to go out there—"

"He told us Rivendell! We don't know where in Rivendell, and more importantly—we can't get to Rivendell! How are we—"

"It's my sister, Scott," Jimmy says, and Scott falls silent at the desperate look on his face. He thinks he can see, by the moonlight, the sparkle of a tear on his cheek, somehow distinguishable from the shine of scales pushing through the scars on his face.

He got those scars, Scott remembers, when he fell through the Void and the nothing tore away pieces his skin, dissolving everything that was Jimmy.

Scott promised himself then, as his wings beat desperately and tears streamed down his face and he carried the unmoving body of his fiancé in his arms, that he would do anything for Jimmy, as long as he survived.

"It's my sister," Jimmy says again now, and Scott's eyes flick up from his scars to his beautiful, serious, brown eyes. "I'm not gonna leave her. I'm not gonna let Sausage murder her."

Scott glances away.

If they reveal themselves, Scott will have to face Xornoth.

If they save Lizzie, Scott will die.

And maybe that's dramatizing it a little bit, but it's true. If they go out into the public, if everyone knows that they're alive, then Xornoth will come after them.

Instead of, maybe, several more weeks with Jimmy, Scott's timeline has dropped down to a matter of days—hours, even.

He can't leave Jimmy so soon. He just found him again.

But one more look at Jimmy's pleading, teary eyes, and Scott knows that he can't leave Lizzie to die. She doesn't have a chance against the demon.

No one does, but he can at least hold Xornoth off while the others get to safety.

He'll never see Jimmy again.

"All right," he says, even as it breaks his heart. "We'll do it. But how do you intend on getting to Rivendell?"

Jimmy's eyes slowly slide up, up to the half moon, to the stars surrounding it. "Well, remember my escape plan from earlier?"

"Jimmy."

[writesick-lover]

Jabberjays and Mockingjays

Coriolanus Snow x reader

⤞ My masterlist ⤝

Summary: You meet Coriolanus Snow during his service as a Peacekeeper in the 12th district. The 10th Hunger Games were forgotten, Lucy Gray was gone and Snow is now stuck with someone who promises a fair company. What looks like a happy ending can easily turn into an ugly betrayal. All it takes is a click of a device.

A/N: Happy holidays everyone! Stay safe, lots of love and if you like my work feel free to like reblog and comment! :)

Also if you want to ask me anything -> /ask 

♦️ ♦️ ♦️ ♦️

Coriolanus Snow served his time in District 12, mostly bored out of his mind. He tried to accompany other Peacekeepers to the bar every evening in search of at least some fun, just for his eyes to find the podium and fall on the victor of the 10th Hunger Games. He gritted his teeth as Lucy Gray left the podium, performing another of her songs like always. Not a glance spared his way.

Instead, she threw herself onto a nearby chair, stuffing her mouth with a small piece of meat she got for her performance. Her fingers dug into the bone. Her lips were smeared with grease. A wave of disgust rose in him, sending shivers down his whole being. She was a victor. How could she live like this? How could she just come back and live her ordinary and poor life after what she has been through? And how could she treat him like a ghost? After what he had done for her?

While there was disgust in Snow, there was never an ounce of anger. After all, if it wasn't for Highbottom, he would be in Capitol holding his prize, knowing damn well he played the same games as she did. That's just how it was. And if Lucy Gray hadn't known how to play the game, she wouldn't have been a victor. But the game was over, Lucy Gray was rather forgotten and so was he, now stuck in the poorest district, forced to do the dirtiest work, his ego hurting every time he looked around, knowing very well he did not belong here, at least not like Sejanus seemed to.

It was a sunny day when Snow creeped out of the centre of the 12th and towards the flower-covered Meadow. His heart was beating out of his chest as his legs carried him down the hill to a lonesome tree, watching over the rest of the woods down in the alley. It was where he spoke with Lucy Gray for the last time. He came unarmed, relying on the completely abandoned stones under the tree. Yet, they weren't. Not really.

"You can go keep peace where it's actually wanted," a voice from above made him jump up. His right hand immediately reached for the absent belt on his hips. He almost forgot he didn't bring his gun, didn't think he needed it. As his eyes slowly scanned the tree trunk from the roots to the branches, he noticed a sly smirk flashing between the greenery of the tree's leaves. The intruder seemed to be amused by his scare. He couldn't help but frown in confusion as a disobedient smirk already sat on his lips. How did he not notice?

"Got you good, huh?" the person spoke once again, now their voice coming from in front of him, accompanied by an intentionally loud thud that made him jump once again, this time his palm reaching for his heart.

His widened eyes scanned the person that now stood steadily on the ground, already knowing they had to be from the Covey. The pieces of colourful fabric that covered their body, matched with the green of the forest and the occassional bright colour of the flowers. The crown on their head was made of early dandelions. And the fact that no one in their right mind except the Covey would dare to stray so far away from the District's centre, gave Coriolanus a clear answer who this person was.

But Coriolanus knew he was an exception as well. He also dared to stray this far away.

"Do you greet everyone like this?" he breathed out the air he was holding in his lungs up until now.

"No, just lost peacekeepers who seem to get in the way," you shrugged, already taking him in from head to toe. No weapons, but white hair cut into a buzzcut which would sort him into the peacekeeper's family immediately, if his uniform wasn't giving that out already. It made you scoff.

"You shouldn't be here," the peacekeeper's voice broke the silence. "I could call the others if I wanted to," he threatened, but it only made you laugh out loud, your melodic laughter catching the attention of the birds around.

"What's so funny?" you looked back at the man in front of you, only to find his composure completely serious, almost as if he meant everything he said. "You cannot do anything here," you spoke, the giggles still hearable in your voice. "You shouldn't be here as well,"

"But neither should you," the blond repeated once again.. "Covey is way lower in the alley, you barely come here,"

"They barely do. Let's say I come here a bit more, alone," your voice got lost in the breeze around you as your last few words turned into a whisper. Nevertheless, you straightened up your posture, waiting for the peacekeeper's next words, ready to flee if needed.

"Coriolanus Snow," was what came from between his lips. Your eyes widened. "That's my name," Coriolanus felt like he had to explain, based on your confused expression. "Y/n," you let out, not believing your own ears. A mischievous smile painted his lips, "Well, Y/n, what now? I like to come here alone too,"

If someone had told you a peacekeeper would accompany you through your days in the Meadow, you would laugh into their face. There was no way. But Coriolanus turned out to be different. He started to talk to you about how it was in the Capitol. You started to teach him how to survive in the wild. 

"Don't eat that!" you scolded him once as you walked through the trees, hiding from the hot flames of the sun's beams. "That's nightlock! You could be dead in a minute," you found yourself screaming, smearing the juice of the berries on his hands, trying to get rid of the deadly fruit.

"I... didn't know. They looked like the berries you showed me the other day," he said, stunned, staring at the dark purple on his hands.

"They do, but they are not. Let's get you cleaned," you grabbed his hand, the paint smearing your hand too. You dragged him deeper into the woods, the trees thickening. But they were no escape from the hotness now, its source coming from your hands intertwined together, his piercing gaze burning the tips of your ears.

You soon found out you were drawn closer to the convicted ex-citizen of Capitol, and he was too, something you never imagined, even in your wildest dreams.

"If you could be anywhere but here, where would you go?" he asked you once, his curious eyes watching you. "I would just disappear to the woods," you hummed. You didn't notice his subtle smile dropping. "What about you?" you asked Coriolanus, taking in his strong features in the setting sun. The orange brought a bit of warmth into his usually cold stare.

"Woods sound nice. But I don't think it's my forte," he mumbled, his eyes already stuck on you. "I will have to be careful about the nightlock. And what would I do when you leave?" his fingers crept up your neck, sending shivers through you, but you let him, wondering how far they would dare to go.

"You could come. I would have shown you everything," you found yourself whispering once again, but he could hear you.

"I think with you I could," he whispered back, the breeze bringing his voice to you before it was locked between your lips, moving against each other, dancing like the leaves in the wind. There was no more Lucy Grey on his mind, and maybe he was actually willing to throw away his Capitol dream for a time in the woods with you. Because he didn't think he had a shot at coming back to the Capitol. 

After a while, Coriolanus brought a friend of his, Sejanus. And although you found yourself a bit bitter about it, he started to become your company more and more by day. But he also started to grow closer to your heart. 

"What would you do if you could go anywhere you wanted to, Sejanus?" you asked in the middle of the night, hanging from the tree as Sejanus looked up at you.

"I would go see my parents," he spoke softly. And then he added, "I can't visit them and I wish I could. But it's okay. I am fine with where I am right now, as long as I am free from the Capitol," 

Your eyes darted to the blond but Coryo just laughed. 

Sejanus didn't.

Coriolanus leaned himself against the wooden cage full of birds they came to catch. You couldn't remember the name, but he told you they were mutts, destroying nature, creating mutations.

"We will run," Sejanus started. A silence fell upon you three. Then a subtle click sounded in the air and Sejanus continued. "I spoke with some people from the district. We will rescue Lil and escape through the loose fence," Again, all of you fell silent. Your heartbeat rose. "What?" you whispered to the night but Coryo cut you off. "You won't survive a minute there, Sejanus, you're from Capitol-"

"I'm a good shot," you watched Sejanus turn to Coriolanus, both their glances determined to convince the other. A good shot. You thought, soon enough realising. The rebels have guns.

"Why are you saying this?" Coriolanus asked out loud, his voice cold. 

"It's us, together, remember? You are my friend," you watched Sejanus' lips spread into what looked like a smile in the moonlight. You couldn't help but smile too. This might be your chance.

"There is a new bird in the woods. I think I saw it before, but I don't remember where," you commented on one of your casual walks with Snow a few days later. He arched his eyebrow but didn't act surprised at all. Yet, he still asked. "Really? Which one?" he said, almost uninterested, lost in his thoughts. "That one," you stopped in your tracks, making his stiff body bump into you. He hissed before looking up, his fingers unconsciously wrapping around your wrist. 

"Oh, you mean Jabberjays?" he whispered, making you gasp. You found yourself backed up against the tree trunk, your left wrist pinned against the hard bark, Coryo's hand already on your collarbone, slowly sneaking up your neck like a snake. Your right hand automatically fell on his hip. 

"Yes, Jabberjays," you repeated, your face brightening, hearing something click. Suddenly, your voice spread through the air, repeating the same word billions of times. "We were here to capture them, remember?" Coryo spoke through the mimic of your voice, so similar, you almost thought your mouth must have kept on going. Your hand travelled to his arm, and down to his fingers, holding something. You hugged his hand in yours slowly picking it up, while withholding eye contact, his bright blue eyes sending cold down your body as usual. 

"And this is how you set them off, right?" his fingers let go of the device under the touch of your fingers. "This is what they used during the revolution," your voice was now all quiet as you turned the device off. "They used it to spy on people,"

"On rebels," Coryo nodded, drawing closer.

"Are they spying on us now?" you looked up, stopping him with your gaze. He looked up, staring at you intently, switching between your eyes and lips.

"Could they hear about our escape?" and before you could ask anything else, his lips were on yours once again, their warmth contrasting to his always freezing gaze. His hand around your neck, becoming tighter with every graze, his movements more passionate.

"Coryo," you breathed. He smirked at the nickname but didn't answer and shut you up with more kisses. "Coriolanus," you tried again but to no avail. "Coriolanus Snow," you finally spoke out loud, making him groan.

"You need to go," he frowned at your statement. "Duty calls?" you smiled a bit at his state, his eyes widening as he realised he was about to be late. "See you by the tree," were the words he spoke before he rushed out of the woods. Leaving you alone, with the small device still in your hand.

You waited. You waited for days, but there was no sign of Coriolanus nor Sejanus. You almost forgot how it was to spend your days alone, sitting in the crown of the tree, your only company the birds flying around. Suddenly you took notice of the Jabberjays and Mockingjays, spending your time saying something, making Jabberjays say it back and watching as the Mockingjays repeated the intonation of your voice.

But after a few hours, you couldn't keep on going. You found it foreign and scary, how well the Jabberjays repeated what you wanted them to. Their eyes were empty, looking almost pointless when they didn't have anything to repeat. But one day, there were no Jays to keep you company. There was no sun, no breeze. Just silence. Everywhere.

You found it disturbing. For the first time in your life, you willingly made your way to the centre of District 12. But you found it empty just the same. Except for the square by the hanging tree. And then you realised. 

You wanted to run away badly, kept ordering your feet to turn around and flee, knowing you were never the type to digest the hanging. But you didn't stop, no, you kept going until you arrived, standing in the audience on one of the stairs above the crowd, your eyes darting to the boy standing under one of the branches. His dark eyes screamed in fear with dark messy curls falling into them, occasionally silencing his already silent pleads. Your stomach turned. Sejanus.

But why? Why would they hang him? He was a peacekeeper, he did his job well. The only thing you knew was unpopular with the peacekeepers, was befriending the district's citizens. But they all did, they were all poor just the same.

There was a woman on the other side of the tree. You recognised her. Her husband was hanged a while ago, you heard. Her name was Lil? One of the rebels. And you started to understand. 

You found Coryo pretty quickly. After all, he was standing right under the tree. Gun in his hand. His eyes trained somewhere in the distance. At you. Coriolanus Snow kept his composure, not an ounce of expression on his face. How could he stand there? Without moving? How could he not protest against the death of his friend? Wasn't he, too, supposed to run away with them? Run away...

You were brought back to the night Sejanus told him about the plan. There was a click, a cage full of birds you couldn't remember, until Coriolanus told you days later, that Jabberjays, they are able to copy exactly what you say if you use the device to record. The device you held in your hand, tied to the birds sitting on the tree.

Peacekeepers keeping peace under it with two rebels about to be hung. Jabberjays and Mockingjays, all together, one created by Capitol, the other by the district. Your fingers moved in your pocket, you heard the click as a thick rope was thrown over Sejanus' throat. 

"No!" he yelled out. "Ma! No, please, Ma! Help me Ma!" his screams filled the air, sending shivers of terror down everyone's spine. Except Coriolanus Snow, who didn't move, his eyes stuck on you, your hand, the black device in it. Small tears formed in his eyes as the sound of rope tightening filled the air, the sound of wood falling to the lower platform, Sejanus' screams never falling silent, filling the branches above his head.

The Jabberjays screamed, the Mockingjays mocking them and with the return of the wind, you were gone, away from the district, away from the lonesome tree, away from Coriolanus Snow, away from the device created by Capitol.

♦️ ♦️ ♦️ ♦️

[abarbaricyalp]

Written a week late for the @sambuckylibrary Anniversary Event!

Sorry about any typos in advance

Sam Wilson, God bless his nearly perfect soul, didn't have the self-serving skills that the good God gave a gnat. From across the diner, Annalise watched her best friend's son ignore every single sign that his handsome, quiet friend was putting down across their quickly emptying breakfast plates. Her own breakfast was cooling below her, but she had already forgotten about her blueberry oatmeal (cinnamon on top).

To begin with, Sam had invited her to eat with them, despite the fact that were clearly new flowers sitting on the table as well. She knew Bucky Barnes had already made friends with the local florist and she knew he had a weekly order of Sam's favorites set up. (Sam had dropped his affinity for carnations since high school, but still liked yellow flowers and baby's breath). Bucky had also been sitting with his hand on the table, palm up towards Sam, but Sam hadn't taken it yet, hadn't seemed to notice, except to occasionally move some silverware closer to him. Then there was the matter of Bucky's feet, which Annalise could see clearly under the booth as he keep putting his ankle to Sam's, only for Sam to apologize and move his feet back.

Sam Wilson had all the easy charm of his father, but didn't seem to have inherited Paul's keen sense of when the attention was on him. Paul had been a flirt and a half back in the day. He clocked Darlene's interest before Darlene even admitted it to herself (or Annalise, for that matter). Oh, how he had worked day and night to woo her. And then he spent the rest of his life doing the same thing.

Sam was staring down an oncoming train of attention and devotion and he didn't even hear the whistle.

"Dom," she said softly when the waitress walked back by her table. She was across from Sam's booth anyway, but she was pretty certain that even if she was right next to them, neither young man would hear her, too focused on each other. "Could you send a slice of chocolate cheesecake over to them?" she asked. "Keep it between us."

Dom looked back at Sam and Bucky as well, humming in agreement. "Ma'am, consider that fine idea on the house," she laughed. "Might forget a spoon too."

"Oh, now you're speaking my language, young lady," Annalise laughed. "Isn't it great when a plan comes together?"

Dom squeezed her shoulder with an exuberant grin before she disappeared into the kitchen again.

She wasn't the only exuberant one. The boys were bright and cheery as well. It was nice to see after a couple of weeks of quiet from them. Times when one or the other of them was pulled away for their superhero business were always rough. Times when they were both gone were downright untenable. The recuperation needed for the superheroes also never sped things along.

But they seemed to be more at ease, finally back home, as they swiped bacon and toast from each other's plates and cried foul at the same time.

Sam Wilson deserved the world and every happiness. Even as a young boy, clambering over the pulpit to set up his daddy's readings before church, but getting distracted by the crickets that needed a helping hand outside, he had a heart of gold and a moral compass that would go toe-to-toe with most adults in the community. Annalise could remember all of his accolades from high school so well. The sports trophies, the academic achievements, the service awards. She didn't know how he found the time in the day for everything he did, and then helping his parents with the boat and the food boxes as well. All the Wilson kids were like that, but Gideon had gone off without a forwarding address and Sarah had learned to go for what she wanted, created a fairytale love story in front of everyone. Sam had joined the Air Force and spent the rest of the story sacrificing. It wasn't until he came home for Cassius Sr's funeral that they even heard about the accident in Bakmala. It took years after that and a slip up from Sarah for them to learn just how deep the relationship between Sam and his Air Force partner actually was. He just never spoke about it, even to his longest supports in the community. Just focused his attention on Sarah while he could before going off to save the world again.

Too much pain had visited the Wilson household in waves that just never stopped coming. First Gideon leaving, then Paul and then Darlene, then Cassius Sr. and then Sam's partner. Or near enough that order. Plenty of sunshine too, though. Sarah's boys were stunning fruit off of the healthiest of trees. It was hard not to see Sam when Cass was running around town, feeding strays, or when AJ read at church.

But Annalise had been waiting for Sam to bring someone home, make something just for himself. Being Captain America was hardly helping matters. If the young man had ever run out of excuses for his lacking love life before, he had a fresh host of them now.

If you can have lunch with me once a week, you can find yourself a nice man too, she'd said to him a while ago.

It seemed like he had found himself a nice man, she had to admit. No matter how goofy a name like Bucky was, there was no denying he was a good man. (Sure, she'd heard the youngsters talking about The Winter Soldier, but she'd never met the Winter Soldier, thank you very much. Just Bucky Barnes) He was exactly the kind of man for Sam. Not afraid to get his hands dirty, strong and supportive but soft too, on the inside. He was clearly so far gone on Sam that his eyes practically radiated hearts at all times. And, oh boy, could he keep Sam on his toes. They were delightful together in a way that made her ache for her own long-gone love.

And Sam was oblivious to it all. It wasn't for lack of interest. During their lunch dates, the conversation could center entirely around Bucky some days. No matter what else Annalise brought up, Sam would find some way to circle it back around to whatever heroic, or idiotic, thing the other young man had done recently. (Not so young, she supposed. Bucky corrected her every time she said it) If Sam wasn't as far gone on Bucky as the reverse, it was a near, and growing, thing.

So she watched them flirt and banter and pretend like their fingers weren't touching on the table as Bucky mooned over Sam and Sam couldn't look away from Bucky.

Dom came back just as Sam was eating the last of Bucky's pancake. It took a moment for them to look away from each other and to clock the cake she was setting between them.

"Oh, we didn't order this," Bucky corrected sweetly.

"Or that," Sam added as Dom produced two glasses of mimosas as well. His eyes instantly darted over to Annalise.

"Don't worry," Dom assured. "It's on the house. Just a little early-bird-regular special." She smiled brightly at them--there'd been a time Annalise would have loved to see Dom settle down with Sam and they'd have made a lovely couple too--and then turned to leave.

It was Bucky who reached for the spoon first. Then Sam, who came up a spoon short.

"Oh, wait--" he started to call, but Dom didn't look back. Sam shot another glance towards Annalise, who was doing nothing but minding her own business, thank you.

"Well, this is some of the best cake in the state," Bucky pointed out smoothly. He offered the first bite to Sam. "Don't look a gift horse in the mouth and all that."

Sam put his fingers over Bucky's hand on the spoon. He maintained eye contact for just a second before he had to look away as he took the proffered cheesecake.

Bucky grinned cheerily at him before taking at least twice as big a scoop for himself, which led to a familiar scene of them squabbling and trying to strong arm each other into relenting.

"I'll give you the rest!" Bucky insisted, trying to hold the spoon away from Sam's reaching hands.

"The middle is the best part of the slice!" Sam argued, halfway climbing across their booth table. He put a hand on Bucky's shoulder to hold himself upright and had almost reached the spoon when he hip-checked the glass of sweet tea between them. Annalise had lost track of whether it was his or Bucky's. They both had a sweet tooth to end all sweet teeth.

Bucky took the opportunity of Sam reaching back to catch the glass to shove the spoon in his mouth. Sam squawked out a sound that Annalise was sure Captain America shouldn't make and then actually reached over like he was about to pry into Bucky's mouth.

Bucky quickly smacked a hand over his lips as he bent over laughing. "Stop it. I'm gonna spit it on you if you don't stop," he warned, trying to fend Sam off with his other hand. "Don't make me laugh."

"You didn't even taste that!" Sam accused. "That was a waste of the perfect bite!"

"I did taste it," Bucky promised. "It was so good. You missed out."

Annalise was starting to agree with AJ. Sam and Bucky were gross together, in the most endearing way. She hadn't seen Sam goof around like this since junior high. It felt like a little bit of sunshine had been restored to the world.

Bucky chopped off a bite of the crust and offered it to Sam as reconciliation. Judging by the way Sam was still pouting, it was only partially working. Sam took the spoon and they settled down as they finished the cheesecake and their mimosas.

Sam had mentioned that Bucky couldn't get drunk, on account of his serum whatnot, but Annalise wasn't sure she bought it. Every time she saw him drinking, he still seemed to get loose limbed and smiley. Then again, she only ever saw him drink around Sam, so perhaps she was giving credit where it wasn't due. She watched him practically melt into the booth seat, hooking his ankle on Sam's and finally being allowed to stay there as they chatted about their plans for the day as orange juice and champagne slowly fizzled away. They were back to working on the house they'd bought. Technically there had been a housewarming party a couple of weeks ago, but she'd seen the both of them in and out of the hardware store often enough since to know the work was not done. She'd bring over some pie for them. Bucky liked cherry and Sam liked peach, both of which she had in her kitchen.

Eventually, she turned her attention to her thoroughly cold oatmeal. She had almost finished it when the boys started shifting around, bickering about the bill. Bucky darted away to pay for it, even though he'd just been complaining about having to use the restroom. Sam came over to her table, catching her eye as he stood. By the time he sat across from her at the two-seater, she still hadn't looked back up.

"Surely you can't still want to have breakfast with me," she teased him finally when he didn't offer a new greeting.

"You're really just gonna set me up like that, huh?" he asked. The gap in his teeth always gave away his grins, just like Paul's had. He really did make her chest ache sometimes. "Just 'cause Bucky won't blame you doesn't keep you out of my sights."

Annalise scoffed softly and shook her head. "I don't know what you're talking about, Samuel Thomas. Mind your manners."

Sam held up his hands placatingly. "Was there any reason cake appeared between us then?"

Annalise shrugged and pretended to read something on her phone. Usually she read the news while she had her breakfast, but she hadn't even opened her subscription because Sam and Bucky were more interesting. "I suppose there was extra. It can only sit out so long, you know."

Sam put his chin on his criss-crossed fingers, elbows on the table, which she swatted at but was ignored for. She continued to pretend to read a text message until she sighed.

"I just think you deserve something nice. You never take anything for yourself," she admonished lightly. "And I'm not talking about cake, young man."

Sam's eyebrows rose in surprise, but not at her words, she didn't think. Just at the admission. "Bucky is not nice," he said. "He's a pain and a lot of work."

Annalise hummed with a smile, thought of her loves. "All the best things are, aren't they?"

And Sam smiled. Really smiled. The sun came out. Birds sang. He really was her favorite Wilson child. "Yeah, sometimes they are," he agreed.

"Ready to go?" Bucky asked, appearing like he'd been summoned by that smile. He had his hand on the back of Sam's shoulder, inching towards his neck. "Hi again, Mrs. Corbett," he said to Annalise warmly.

"Yeah, mind pulling the truck around?" Sam asked.

Bucky glanced at Annalise, then back to Sam. "Sure," he agreed. "I'll give you two a little while longer to gossip."

Sam had a scar below his left eye that hadn't been there when he'd left for the Air Force. Shrapnel, she'd heard from someone, but she wasn't sure how true that was. Sam never talked about it and it'd be rude to ask. The first time she'd seen it, it had made her heart stop to think about something so violent coming so close to Sam's face, his eyes. By then, it had been a pale thin, still a little tender and thin, but healed. By now, it was barely noticeable, unless the sun was shining in the window just right to make it shine a little. Unless she was watching it as Bucky's lips came down on it, even though Sam's left side was across from where Bucky was standing.

Sam's eyes were still closed, long eyelashes fluttering, as Bucky stood up again. "Don't leave me idling for too long," he warned as he squeezed Sam's shoulder and turned for the door.

She watched Bucky leave, a Levi's ad come to life, and then looked to Sam who had come back to the world of mere mortals.

"Now, Samuel Thomas Wilson," she started, pointing a spoon at him.

Sam laughed merrily, slapping a hand across his chest. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

"I didn't set you up anything! You set me up!" she accused. "Why haven't you told me?"

Sam was still laughing, shaking his head as he clutched onto his ribs. "I don't know, Miss Lise. I guess...I just liked having it for myself for a while. I was gonna tell you first," he said with a hand over his chest. He settled back in his seat and watched her with a slight apprehension.

Annalise watched him back. "I like Bucky," she said. "I don't like his name, but I like him. You did good there."

"I know you like him," Sam assured. "You just tried to set me up with him."

"Well, the last time I tried to set you up, you just never showed up," she said with a sniff.

"It was a dinner with you!" Sam defended. "I didn't know you were going to ditch me with a stranger."

"She wasn't a stranger. She was only three years younger than you."

"I lived in DC at the time," he added.

Annalise shrugged. "You skipped. Did you know Bucky then?"

Sam laughed softly and shook his head. "No, not then," he said. "Not yet. Besides, it took us a while to get there, even once I did know him."

Annalise knew there was a whole novel worth of story behind Sam and Bucky. She read the news about Sam, and Bucky had been mentioned in a few of them, but she hadn't been paying attention to him at the time, nor did she care to go back and reread anything.

She reached out for Sam's hand and squeezed his fingers. "I'm glad you're happy, Sam," she said softly. "It's what you've deserved for a long time."

Sam put his other hand over hers to squeeze back. "Do you think they'd like him?" he asked softly.

Annalise looked out the front windows, where Bucky was drumming his fingers on the steering wheel of the truck Sam had had since high school, singing along to some song she couldn't hear. She squeezed Sam's hand tighter.

"I do, Sammy," she said with a smile. "I really do. They'd be so proud of you. All of you. Always."

Sam kissed her hand before standing up. "Thank you, Miss Lise."

"We love you, Sam," she said, standing to hug him. She kissed his temple fiercely. "Good job on this one."

He smiled again and then left to get into the truck. He paused outside the driver's side to kiss Bucky through the open window.

Annalise smiled too. "Dom," she called, sitting again, "could I get some cheesecake over here. I earned it."

[firewasabeast]

You Provide Strength

(Part 2 of my wedding series, part one here)

Summary:

After finding out his parents won't be attending his wedding, Buck asks Bobby and Athena for a big favor.

Note: Read here or on ao3. There will probably be more parts, but each part can be read as a oneshot.

It's six days to the wedding and Buck is in hour nine of a twelve hour shift. Both he and Tommy wanted to work right up until the day before the wedding, saving up to enjoy a nice honeymoon. Bobby had insisted on half-shifts for Buck, which he had tried to protest, but after last night he was eternally grateful. He wasn't sure he could handle a full shift of emergencies after the phone call last night.

“Why are you being so somber?” Chim asked, looking directly at Buck. They were all sitting around the TV, a commercial playing quietly in the background. They hadn't really been watching anything. Everyone, except Buck, had been chatting away, discussing their weekend and the plans they had leading up to the wedding.

And Buck knew what Chimney was really asking. Why are you so quiet? But they didn't use that word- in any context.

He hadn't told anyone the news. They were all already on shift when he heard from his parents, and it wasn't really something he wanted to announce in the first place.

His head had been hurting all day. He had stayed up late, talking to Tommy about all the times his parents failed to show up for him. It was stories Tommy already knew, but he listened anyway. He listened, and responded, and asked questions.

He had apologized for the pity party, but Tommy had reassured him that talking about legitimate trauma that had impacted his life was not a pity party.

They hadn't fallen asleep until half past one, then Buck was up by five to make his six o'clock shift. Tommy didn't have to be at work until an hour later, but he got up with Buck anyway and made him a breakfast burrito to go, making Buck promise that he'd actually eat it.

Ever since then, Tommy had been sending regular texts, and even called a couple of times just to check in.

“I'm not being somber,” Buck replied, slumping further into his chair.

“You're being very somber. It's weird.”

“Chim's right, Buck,” Hen agreed. “You haven't shut up about the wedding this year, but now- silence. Got pre-wedding jitters?”

Buck sighed. “No,” he replied, staring at TV. “Marrying Tommy is the one thing I'm sure about.”

“Then what's up?” Chim asked. “Worried Jee won't throw the flowers right? We've been working all month,” he smiled, “she's a natural.”

“I'm not worried about that.” God, he wished they'd shut up. He knew they meant well, he was simply in no mood to deal with questions.

“Did someone steal your clipboard again?” Chimney continued lightheartedly. “I swear it wasn't me this time.”

“Don't look at me!” Hen countered. “I learned my lesson.”

“Guys,” Eddie started, having been quiet up until now. “Why don't we chill for a second? Give the almost-newlywed some breathing room.”

Eddie always knew when Buck wanted to talk, and when he really, really didn't. For that, Buck was endlessly grateful.

“Well, I'm sorry,” Chimney replied, his tone showing he was still oblivious to the gravity of the situation. “I'd like to know what made our Buckaroo go from nonstop chatterbox to the qu- silentest,” he quickly fixed, “boy in the world.”

“I really don't wanna talk about it,” Buck said, shooting up from his seat. He could feel his face getting red. He didn't want to get angry with them, he knew they meant no harm, but he couldn't handle the talking anymore. “Please, leave me alone.”

He didn't wait around to see their faces after his little outburst. He quickly walked off and began making his way to Bobby's office.

Hen and Chimney's eyes fell to Eddie, who gave a nod before getting up and following behind Buck.

“Hey, Buck, wait a sec.”

Buck stopped, and took a deep breath, letting it out slowly before turning around. “Eddie, I-”

“I know; you don't wanna talk about it,” Eddie replied, holding his hands up in surrender. “I just wanna make sure you're okay. I do feel it's my duty as your best man,” he added with a smile, concern still showing in his eyes.

Buck felt bad. He knew he could just tell them. They'd understand. They'd be pissed, but they'd understand. But something was stopping him. Almost a feeling of embarrassment. Embarrassed that his own parents wouldn't be at his wedding because, of all things, a previously planned cruise.

“I just- I need to talk to Bobby about something first. I promise i-it's not anything bad. Wedding plans are fine, Tommy's fine, we're... we're great, actually. I'm just stressing about stuff.”

Eddie nodded, letting that answer be sufficient. For now, at least.

“Okay.” He gave Buck a pat on the shoulder. “I'm here when you're ready.”

“I know,” Buck replied. “Thanks for that.”

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Buck paused before walking into Bobby's office. He needed to settle himself. He felt on edge already, and he needed to make sure he didn't burst into tears the second he walked into the office.

Hesitantly, he knocked, entering once he heard Bobby's, “Come in.”

“Am I bothering you, Cap?” he asked.

“Not at all, Buck. What's up?”

“I was just, um, I was actually wondering if I could talk to you, and Athena, tonight, uh, if that's okay?”

“Sure,” Bobby replied, giving Buck a quizzical look. “Are you okay?”

Buck sighed. “Um, I think I- well, that's kind of a loaded question,” he let out a humorless laugh, “but I will be, I think.”

“You wanna come have a seat, Buck?” Bobby motioned to the empty chair across from him.

“No, I, uh, as long as tonight's okay, I'm good. I won't take too much time-”

“Don't worry about that,” Bobby interrupted. “We're having lamb stew tonight, there will be plenty for ya, so come on over. Seven-thirty good?”

“That's perfect. Thanks, Cap.”

“Of course, Kid.”

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

After going home to shower and change, Buck arrived at Bobby and Athena's place.

They exchanged hellos, then Buck headed into the living room to sit.

“Dinner should be ready in about ten minutes,” Athena said. “Can I fix you something to drink while we wait.”

“Oh, no thanks, Athena. I'm good. I need to talk to you about something,” he started, looking from Athena to Bobby.

“I can leave you two to it.”

“A- Actually, I need to speak to you both.”

Buck wanted to get this over with now. He was tired of the anxiety that kept building up inside of him. If he didn't say something now, he wouldn't be able to eat.

“Okay,” Athena said with a nod, taking a seat on the couch. Bobby sat beside her, while Buck sat across from them in a chair.

“Are you sure everything's okay, Buck?” Bobby asked. “You haven't been yourself today.”

“No, I- I know I haven't. Yesterday was actually pretty stressful and I haven't- I wasn't ready to really get into it with everyone at the station.”

“Planning a wedding can be stressful,” Athena said, figuring that was the cause for concern. “That's why I highly recommend going to the courthouse.” She and Bobby exchanged smily glances at one another.

Buck nervously rubbed his hands together. “That was an option at one point,” he replied. “But everything with the wedding is mostly ready. Actually, once I talk to you two tonight, it will be completely ready.”

“Alright,” Bobby said. He could tell this was serious. “You've got our attention, Buck. What do you need?”

“Well, you know how, um, Tommy's mom is gonna walk him down the aisle?”

They both nodded in response.

“And my parents were walking me. And we know that's not traditional, but what even r- really is traditional, you know? We wanted them to be a part of it because they're a part of us and like it or not they made us who we are.” He was rambling. He knew he was rambling. He knew they knew he was rambling. But he couldn't seem to stop himself. “I mean, I know it means a lot to Tommy to have h- his mom walk with him and I-”

“Buck, Buck,” Bobby interrupted, raising a hand to stop him. “What's up?”

Buck took a deep breath. “My parents aren't coming to the wedding and I'd like you two to walk with me,” he let out quickly.

“W- Wait a minute,” Athena started, scooting closer to the edge of the couch. “Your parents aren't coming to the wedding?”

Buck could feel the embarrassment on his face. “Uh, no. They're not.”

“Why not?” She asked pointedly.

God, he felt so small. “They have a cruise.” His voice was quiet, defeated.

Athena raised an eyebrow. If Buck had the courage to maintain eye contact, he would have been able to see the fire in her eyes. “They have a cruise?”

“Yeah, they have a cruise.”

“They have a cruise. Bobby, did you hear this? They have a cruise!” Her voice was rising now, concern being overtaken by anger.

“Yes, yes, I heard, Athena.” Bobby placed a hand on Athena's back to try and calm her, or at least keep her seated. “Buck, I don't know what to say.”

“It's okay,” Buck assured them, however weak the assurance was. “Really. I- I found out last night and it was a shock, for sure, but I need to not dwell on that.”

“Surely they gave some sort of legitimate reasoning beyond the cruise?” Athena continued.

“Honey, did you hear what Buck asked us?” Bobby asked, trying to get back on topic. He knew Athena. How fierce she could be when someone she loves is wronged. But that wasn't what Buck needed right now.

Athena paused for a moment before relaxing her posture. “Yes, yes of course, Buck, I'm so sorry.”

“It's alright,” Buck replied, letting out a laugh. He didn't say it, but he always wished he had a mom like Athena. Someone to straighten him out when he was wrong, but fight for him all the same.

“Are you sure you want us to walk with you, Buck?” Bobby asked.

Buck nodded. “I'm sure. It was actually Tommy who brought you guys up, and I- I really couldn't think of two better people to walk with me... my actual parents included.”

Bobby and Athena glanced at each other, giving a little nod before Bobby responded. “We'd be honored, Buck.”

Buck let out a breath he didn't realize he was holding, allowing himself to smile as a wave of relief washed over him. “Thank you guys, so much.”

Athena got up, holding out her arms for a hug. Buck stood, allowing himself to be held, tears prickling at his eyes. A beeping sound from the kitchen pulled Athena away.

“I'll go check the bread,” she said, trying to hide it as she wiped a hand across her own cheek.

Bobby knew she was still livid. She'd probably be talking about this for most of the night. But he also knew she loved Buck, and would let her anger subside until he was gone.

“We can probably head into the dining room now,” Bobby said, getting up as well.

Buck went to head that way, but Bobby stopped before they reached the room. “Hey, Kid,” he said, Buck turning to face him.

“Yeah?”

“Is there anything else you need? Anything at all?” There was so much more behind those words. You want me to call your parents? You want the rest of the week off? You want to sleep in the spare room so you're not alone tonight? You want us to rearrange the wedding?

Buck smiled, shaking his head as the tears stung his eyes again. “Just show up. J- Just be there.”

Bobby pulled Buck into a tight hug. “That we can do.”

[iiiiiiis-things]

"poetic justice"

pairing: earth42!miles (aged up) x black!reader

cw: none? fluff. angst if u squint

blurb: fan fic based on Kendrick Lamar and Drakes, poetic justice.

a/n: i aged them up for the plot i also REFUSE to believe this song came out 10 years ago 😭

i used this for translation

and to translate in the story alls u gotta do is highlight the sentence and click translate you may or may not have to click the forward button.

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as you were securing the gold hoops in your ear, the doorbell rang, reaching back into your jewelry box you grabbed a couple rings to match, there was one that stood out more than the rest, it had a gold shank, with a simple loopy gallery, a head that stuck out far enough to hold the shiny diamond that went perfectly against your pretty brown skin. It was your promise ring your boyfriend had gotten you 9 months ago given that you two have been dating for 3 years.

Dating Miles was interesting to say the least, being with him gave you a little more power, a little more leverage. You were already pretty popular, living the pretty rich black girl lifestyle that everyone wanted, but it didn't mean that people always respected you resulting in you having to whooping a couple asses but when you and Miles started dating it was like no one ever tried you again.

To be honest it wasn't completely random it made sense, every time someone were to cross lines with Miles Morales they would come up missing, and not wanting to end up on a shirt people never fucked with him or you.

You quickly sprayed your Billie Eilish perfume on your pulse points before grabbing your purse and walking out your bedroom door, rushing downstairs you walk in on your dad and boyfriend sitting on the couch in the living room. there was a pearly white vase full of red Tulips resting on the coffee table that hadn't been there before. you spoke up interrupting the conversation that was being held between the two.

"sorry baby I was still getting ready" Miles stands as you walk over to him wrapping your arms around his neck as he brings you closer with his hands around your lower waist "naw you good" You let go, removing yourself off him but his right hand grabs the front of your shirt bringing it to his nose while his left hand remained on your waist.

"you smell good, isn't that the one-" you cut him off "-you said was gonna stink cause it was made by a white girl" he lets go of your shirt "Guess I was wrong huh?" you nod muttering a small 'mhm' before leaning in for a kiss

miles would never admit it but he found it confounding how he could always tell what exactly soap, perfume, lotion, ect you wear wearing, easily detecting your fragrance, especially if he bought.

your dad sarcastically lets out a cough (which means he wants y'all to back away from each other) and you walk over to the coffee table slightly bending over to look at the flowers in front of you. obviously the flowers were from miles but it's something about how each time he comes over he has a new fresh bouquet of them (sometimes two for your mom) that has you falling, if possible, deeper in love with him.

But you didn't let him know that. not now at least you wanted to endure the moment as long as you can and letting him think he surprises you whenever he tells you what they mean.

standing from the couch your father walks over to Miles holding out his hand "You keep her safe alright?" looking over at Miles you see him give a small smile as he dabs him up "Yes sir" (they def do that firm shake thingy)

________

"you know we not going to the park right?" miles asks as you were walking along the road "we not?" you look over to see him making an expression to say 'now you knew damn well' before letting out a small chuckle "Sé que tu gusto es un poco- alto mantenimiento"

which isn't completely a lie, yes you were humble enough that if it ever came down to being lower class you wouldn't be grossed out but it didn't mean that you wanted to be lower class, miles knew how your dad was given that uncle aaron has worked with him numerous of times.

your mom was a florist, she had her own little shop not to far from your house and it was also one of the most popular floral shops in your city. now you didn't know exactly what you're dad did for work but you did know that it was good enough to put food on the table, pall bills, all while still being able to buy you almost whatever you want. it was no surprise that you turned out to be a daddy's girl. when asked in press his reasoning for spoiling you his response was "so she won't be easy, if any boy wanna take my daughter out he has to really impress her." (which had miles stressing on your first date)

it was your mom who kept you deferential. doing simple things like giving you lectures every few weeks, taking away toys when you were in trouble, whooping your ass when you started crying out loud in the middle of the store because you couldn't get any candy, all of it payed off in the end because your parents was a perfect balance you ironically- got your classiness from your dad and your strength came from your mom.

As stated before uncle aaron had connections with your father you could even call him a family friend which is how you and miles met. this means he has an inside look on your childhood life you didn't necessarily like to open up about. miles wasn't stupid. he knew that you were still hurting, still grieving the lost of your sister a couple years ago, an overdosage right before you two were supposed to go out.

miles doesn't wanna press because he knows what it feels like.. to lose someone who you were very close with, and the fact that you were the one that found her, on the bathroom floor, empty pill bottle not far off, and unresponsive. it was absolutely heart wrenching. although he doesn't want to press he at least try's to bring her up every once in a while because he also knows how unhealthy you can get if you don't open up about. but to his luck the most you would do is smile before changing the subject.

your sisters death is what brung out the overprotectiveness in you. after dating for a while miles realized you were a very careful person, not being the little spoiled daddy's girl everyone thought you were. despite knowing a lot of people you only had a few friends you were very careful about who you hang around and the people you were close with were always complaining with your change of attitude and on how overprotective you were but miles knew.

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miles knew exactly why you acted the way you did. because he felt the same way. after loosing his dad he didn't know what to do, he quit eating, stopped opening up to his mother, even becoming an insomniac being afraid that when he woke up, everyone would be gone.

but that's when you came in, like a gaurdiam angel coming to save him and out him out of his misery, uncle aaron introduced the two of you in when you were still in middle school, the location being on of your father big events. he had decided to bring miles to take his mind off of things and to get him out of the house. miles immediately hit it off with you, and by the end of the event your numbers were exchanged.

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but he couldn't lie, as tragic as it is, he can't help but feel that the death of your sister is what brung you two as close as you were now, there wasn't much said but he could feel the shift in air when you came around, naturally you two became more comfortable together without even speaking on it.

"sooo where are we going?" you asked hoping you dressed for the right occasion "to the mall." you smacked your lips "really?!" it was rare when miles took you to the mall because he knew how out of hand you can get "yeah but we only gon hit up a few stores then we'll get some food and i'll take you home, i have some stuff i gotta handle" you knew he was talking about his 'job' just like your father you never asked what about it as long as it meant more gifts.

HEYYYY YALL so, um happy sunflower day 😭

i might make a part 2 to this bc i actually wanted to make it WAY longer it's rlly js depends on how good it does- reason why i cut it short was because i still have to do our baby 1610 miles and i haven't even started it 🤦🏾‍♀️

bt yeahhh did y'all like this?? don't lie. criticize me (bt not to harsh ima lil sensitive 💀)

why am i so awkward?