#this is why they feast so often because they genuinely need to food

[silvantransthranduiltrash]

Out of all the elves, silvans have the largest appetites.

It’s because they’re constantly moving throught the trees, or dancing, or hunting, or fighting. Basically they are outdoors 24/7.

Their appetites grew even larger during the 3rd age because they are constantly holding back sauron, and the extra stress didn’t help.

Other elves can also eat alot, but because they’re also a lot more scholarly, with entertainment preference being singing and such (as opposed to dancing which is the silvan’s main art) means they do eat less than the silvans.

The only ones who can compete are the avari and the elves back during the age of trees before Orome found them.

So imagine:

Aragorn, Elladan, Elrohir, Legolas: *sitting down in a tavern after an adventure*

Aragorn: *ordering more than even most men eat, but still substantially less than his companions*

Elladan: aww, look at our baby brother, ordering little baby portions!

Elrohir: are you sure you can eat all that? Wouldn’t want to have a tummy ache!

Legolas: *orders 1 of everything they have in the tavern, and even 2 portions of some of it*

The twins: .....

Elrohir: are you sure you can eat all that?

Legolas: *eating all his food, never pausing, but not ravenously shoving it down* i’ll be fine. My sisters eat even more than me. But are you sure you can eat all your food? Wouldn’t want anything to go to waste.

Aragorn: HA.

Bonus:

Erestor: our food supply is even more depleted than usual! We need to stock up.

Elrond: strange. It seems that every time Legolas visits our food supply dwindles ridiculously quickly. But he can’t be the cause. There’s no way an elf could eat that much.

[doctorgerth]

a/n: The first piece for the event! Starting with our sweet freckled fire boi. Will he get a smooch? Or is he safe until the next round? Read to find out! 💕

pairing: Ace x GN!Reader

word count: 1.3k

candy heart prompt: You & Me - Distraction

PORTGAS D. ACE + YOU & ME

The anniversary of the day you joined the crew was quickly approaching, and in typical Whitebeard Pirate fashion, they were planning a substantial celebration for you.

There was no one more grateful you joined the crew besides their very own 2nd Division Commander. You were undoubtedly Ace’s best friend among the crew; the two of you hardly ever seen without the other. That’s why Marco left him the utmost important mission of keeping you distracted while they finished with decorations and last minute preparations. Ace tried his hardest to fulfill his mission by keeping you company in your cabin — not too different from his daily routine.

Though, he really wished he would’ve been given more explicit instruction other than just keeping you ‘preoccupied’. What exactly was he supposed to preoccupy you with? The two of you could chat for hours on end. You’ve done so countless times before, but could he actually keep you cooped up in your room for long enough?

The answer was clearly no, since you quickly became eager to sneak into the kitchen — where the chefs were busy preparing your favorite dishes — for an afternoon snack.

“What is up with you?” you wondered aloud as you reached over to check his temperature. “You never turn down food. Are you ill?”

The warmth of your hand against his forehead was surely enough to bring him to feverish degrees. Your touch often did that, as did your genuine care for him. How could he not have fallen for you?

“I’m fine!” he reassured you with a groan. A result of you removing your hand. He didn’t want it to leave just yet. Or ever. “I just don’t want to face Thatch’s wrath again. My head still hurts from the frying pan he threw at me last time.”

You snickered, “Oh, so the frying pan caused you to lose the last brain cell you had?”

Thump. He smirked. Ace was a sucker for your playful banter. He’d often hoped it was flirting, but even though Ace knew you best, he couldn’t gauge your feelings for him. Did you feel the same way? Was he in your head half as often as you were on his mind?

“Yeah, I’m sorry I don't have any for you to borrow now.”

You rolled your eyes with a smile, “Well, I’m starving and Thatch adores me, so I’m going to go grab a snack. I’ll sneak something for you too. You need to eat. You’ve hardly eaten all day.”

Thump thump. You always looked after him and he loved that about you. Ace loved you. He was never more sure of anything.

He hadn’t eaten all day because he was saving his appetite for the big feast, but of course he couldn’t tell you that. You seemed to be convinced that he wasn’t feeling well. Maybe he could use that to his advantage?

As you rose to your feet, Ace thought quickly and clutched at his stomach, doubling over with an exaggerated groan, “You’re right. I’m not feeling so well…”

You released your hold on the door knob and rushed over to him, rubbing circles against his back and cooing at him. He only felt a little bad about faking an illness, but he could really get used to the feeling of you taking care of him. It felt so natural being here with you.

“Here, lay down,” you directed as you helped Ace into your bed. He looked pitiful staring up at you; those all too familiar dark eyes tugging at your heartstrings. You absentmindedly reached out to swipe some hair out of his eyes and nearly melted when he leaned into your touch. “I’ll go get Marco. Stay here.”

Shit. You’d nearly made him forget why he was faking being sick, let alone what he was supposed to be doing in the first place. Ace struggled in stopping you from walking out the door, struggling even further with getting out from under your covers. He tripped and fell onto the wooden floor, scrambling to his feet as he stumbled down the hallway chasing after you.

“No, wait!” he called after you. You were a few paces ahead of him and quickly made it out onto the deck, stopping only when he caught up to you.

You turned to him with your brows furrowed, “What are you doing? I thought you didn’t feel well?”

Ace was well aware he wouldn’t be able to fool you twice, but you were out in the open now. Exposed to any and all potential spoilers of your celebration. He wasn’t sure he’d be able to lure you back into your room in any normal manner. What the hell was he supposed to do now?

“I’m going to go see Marco to figure out what the hell is wrong with you. I thought I heard him a second ago.” You swivelled your head to find the ship’s doctor.

Ace caught sight of some crewmates behind you, under Marco’s direction, carrying a giant balloon arch along the other end of the main deck and attempting to sneak it into the mess hall. Marco met Ace’s eyes with wide ones, panicked. He shook his head violently as he tried to hurry the crewmates out of your sight. Just as you were about to turn around to catch them in the act, Ace instinctively pulled you closer.

His warm hands cupped your cheeks, positioning your face mere inches from his. He could hear you, feel you gasp against his lips. Your warm breath fanning his own lips left him dizzy, wings fluttering madly in his gut he thought they might lift him off the ground. Having you this close to him was new, intoxicating, intimate. He felt near breathless as he continued to hold you still and you showed no sign of leaving his embrace.

“Don’t go,” he whispered gently, a calloused thumb grazing your cheek.

You sighed and Ace expected you to offer more defiance, to push him away, but instead you stared up at him expectantly, eyes blinking slow. Were you pulling him closer or was he leaning in?

He was surely running a fever now.

Your breaths mingled, lips hovering, noses brushing. The way Ace’s eyes would shamelessly drop to stare at your lips left you wondering how you were even still standing. You’d suddenly forgotten where you were or why you were even there in the first place. All you knew in this moment was him. Just you and him.

“Ace…” you sighed; a helpless plea for him to be closer.

Your name dripped from his lips like honey. You wanted to know if he’d taste just as sweet. Just as you were about to taste for yourself, a teasing voice pierced through the gentle thrumming in your ears.

“Are you two going to keep canoodling each other out on the deck or are you going to come join the party?”

The tension quickly dissipated with Thatch’s voice, causing Ace to drop his hands and you to take a hasty step backward. You turned to look at Thatch who was grinning mischievously. A crowd of crewmates behind him giggled like school girls. When you turned back to Ace, staring at him quizzically, he could only smile.

“Party? What are we celebrating?” Your voice sounded hoarse; unfamiliar. You were still jittery from the anticipation. You were actually going to kiss your best friend.

Though the tension was gone, you could tell something significant had changed between the two of you from that briefly intense moment. You’d always known your feelings for Ace were deeper than friendly, but looking at him now was like looking in a mirror. Ace stared at you in a way akin to lovers and though he was no longer caressing your face, you could feel a warm hand around your own, and another grip around your heart, squeezing as he replied,

“You, of course.”

a/n: Ace survives Round One! No smooch for him so far, but perhaps he’ll end up successful in the next round? We’ll see Fire Fist again in Round Two! Thanks for reading. 💕

[elbiotipo]

isnt op's post also criticizing the idea that we must adhere to colonialism's real life history in fantasy settings? why did you respond with the assumption they didn't (asking genuinely because i read the original post as a condemnation of the very attitude you are condemning op for)

I don't quite understand what you mean by that part in parentheses

But I don't think OP meant anything else than "you don't need elaborate worldbuilding in your story", which, understandably, I oppose. But at the end of it, that's just writing conventions. I'm a worldbuilding fanatic and love to read entire fictional encyclopedias without plot, other people don't care about that. They are completely and utterly wrong, but that's fine, I can live with that.

However, this part (which as far as I know you asked yourself) "the idea that we must adhere to colonialism's real life history in fantasy settings"

Here's the thing: if you're writing fantasy aimed at adults, I don't think you should shy away from depicting colonialism and its consequences.

Because when you write a *typical* popular fantasy work with those lavish feasts with goods from tropical climates or shining metal armors or silk dresses or big urbanized cities with libraries full of books (all more features of the early modern era than medieval Europe) it implies all that wealth comes from somewhere. Those goods come from somewhere. Someone makes all those things. That society is built on pillars; social pillars, economic pillars, ideological pillars. And it's worth question who, and how, and why. Even if some answers might seem distateful, ESPECIALLY if some answers might seem distateful. I simply do not care for works that refuse to engage or think about them, or at least hint about them. Because otherwise it becomes a story of "there's a Bad king and we need to replace it with a Good king" Don't we have 85489 of those already? Why not question something else about your society? The nature of the god(s), the power of the church, how should we organize society, colonialism and imperialism, cultural interactions of the "age of discovery", the scientific method, those were all issues in the early modern Europe where most fantasy draws the generic Pseudo-Medieval European Fantasy setting from, that I think are worth exploring, and authors who do show it well.

The question I'm asking, is basically: okay, your world is made up. Why is it made up exactly like Medieval Early Modern Europe, but without any of the dynamics that made that Europe?

(and since everybody forgets about the stupid space captain: "why, in your sci-fi world far away from modern Earth, all your space captains act like they are Usamerican?")

Some others have also told me "but in my fantasy world there's no colonialism, plants grow through magic/they're traded in fair exchanges" that's great too! I loved some of the explanations, but the point in my opinion also isn't to sanitize fantasy and get rid of all the bad stuff or inaccurate crops, the point is to think about those things and create a story about it. And yes, plants can tell an interesting story. Coffee, sugar, potatoes, tomatoes, and such also got spread by trade, nobody has a "copyright" on plants. But later, the dynamics of the production of those foods took a turn and it often involved the dynamics of trade, colonization and imperialism. Like I said in another post, tea becoming the preferred drink of the English but having to import it from Asia, coffee with all its traditions from its original point in the Middle East as it spread across the continents, potatoes becoming so integral crop to cold Europe that people actually forget their origin in the Andes...

All those things are worth exploring in my opinion, and personally for me, they can even make a better story that just a hero against the evil dark lord.

It's not just about potatoes, but it's always a good first question to ask.

[littlefngs]

                    Anna Drabble 2/? (non-mutuals DO NOT interact)

Anna always watched Dwayne carefully. The way he spoke with David, the way he gently placed a hand on his shoulder, whispered to him, and the way David smiled. It seemed so effortless. He did things that made Anna curious about their relationship. It didn’t take long to ask Paul, and he told her it was just those two in the beginning. There wasn’t much to tell, but he also said they’ve always been like that since Paul joined. They were close, truly brothers. 

Eyes always followed Dwayne, trying to learn from him so that… so that what? She could understand David more? He was the closest person to him. Sure, she wormed her way into his heat (she hoped), but there was something about the way those two drifted together. Yes, Anna wanted to get to know David more. She wanted to be someone he could turn toward when he needed something, to help him, and make him smile like Dwayne does. Something told Anna that he didn’t do it often. 

It was night, of course their day time, and they were up on the boardwalk. No doubt they were trying to look for food. Anna was hungry, but she still needed guidance, and wasn’t fully ready to see all the boys feast. She would drift off and find David when a meal was found. David told her that she could also ask Dwayne if she wanted, and as she kept looking up at him, she knew it was true. Since she joined she had always been glued to David’s hip. She trusted all of them, of course, but it had always been David that made her feel warm and happy. 

So lost in her thoughts that she didn’t realize Dwayne stopped in front of her. She only knew when she collided with his body. She let out a huff, a few chuckles escaped Paul, Marko, and… Dwayne. It was a soft sound that vibrated through Anna’s own chest. She heard his laugh before, but this one was softer and genuine. Despite her embarrassment, she couldn’t help but smile too. Maybe that’s why David smiled all the time? Because of Dwayne’s laugh? It seemed to have a domino effect.

The older vampire turned to look down at her, his smile still present. He waved at the other two to keep going. Anna watched how easily they listened before turning her gaze on Dwayne again. Then, Dwayne lowered himself so he was crouched at her level. The redhead tilted her head, arms folded over her chest in a protective manner. If this was a scolding he could forget it. She’s heard so many from her step-father… felt them too. 

“You keep staring at me,” He said, voice calm and a little amused, “You okay?” His brow arched. 

Anna let out a breath, “Just following the leader.”

It looked like Dwayne winced. For as long as she’s been here, she noticed Dwayne not realizing the effects he had on the rest of the group. His opinion mattered just as much as everyone else’s. And, that David did heavily rely on his words and opinions. 

“Not what I meant. You have been keeping your eyes on me a lot.” he shifted his weight. 

Anna could tell he wanted to say something else but was going the long way about it. This made her smile, and reached forward to push him playfully in the shoulder. The bigger of the two vampires wobbled, he almost lost his balance. This made Anna chuckle, “Say what you wanna say Dwaynie.” She said, moving around him to start walking forward.

She didn’t see the smile but felt it on his lips. It didn’t take him long to be at her side, “You wanna know more about David, don’t you?” He said at last, “You keep watching me everyday.”

She went quiet for a minute, biting the inside of her cheek. Anna felt like she’s known him for decades, but it’s only been what? A month? Two? He was her sire after all. From what she gathered a bond was always made. She listened to everything he said, learned everything he was willing to teach her. Flying was a bit difficult but she loved it. It gave her more time to be with David. He was a mystery she wanted to know more about, but it felt like she already had. Or maybe, she was just being ridiculous, “I do.”

Dwayne chuckled again, “You think by watching me you will learn something? Like what?”

Anna looked up at him, “Because you two are so close. He relaxes around you so easily. And I just… ” she wasn’t so sure what. To be closer to him, sure. But—

“You want him to feel safe around you too? To let him put his guard down? To take that weight off his shoulders for even a little bit? To see that smile as bright as the sun?” There was a distant happiness in Dwayne’s eyes as he said the last part. There was a story in there. Anna hoped someday she would get it. 

Anna stopped walking to lean on a railing that overlooked the beach, “Yeah.” 

He joined her, a gentle hand on her shoulder, “Anna, I don’t think you realize just how much you mean to him,” he said softly, “Since… well, since things had been more rough, David kept himself in check. I did too.” he admitted at least that much. Anna pieced that something had happened, and that distant glance was him looking back in the past at something good.

Dwayne sighed. It wasn’t one of annoyance, but one of a peace of mind, “Anna, keep doing what you’re doing. If anything, I think you are doing more than I am.”

Anna was about to say something before she felt a presence behind her. She turned to see David walking up to them. Still a few feet away, but shot a questioning glance at Dwayne. It seemed to ask “Is everything alright?”. When she glanced back at Dwayne there was an answer of “Yes.”.  

Once her eyes found David’s again, there was a hint of a smile. A hand came to ruffle her hair— Dwayne’s hand that seemed to say “Told you”.

A gift for: @pierfangs

[clavicula-ovis]

𒁍 ▸▸Some Quick Holiday Headcanons for the OCs

「 Under a read more so I don't flood your dashboards! 」

   » Xavier — Initially, he becomes anxious near holidays. This isn't to say he's a miser. Quite the opposite! He wants to enjoy the holidays, but a string of very, very bad years have left him extremely nervous whenever holidays roll around. He needs to be gently coaxed and shown that it'll be okay, that he wont have the world collapse on him again like the years before.

— He conceals his birthday every year. Xavier always hopes that people will forget his birthday, because he feels extremely guilty that it's literally the day before Beelzebub's and Belphegor's. He doesn't want anyone to feel overwhelmed needing to prep for three people's big days, and doesn't want the spotlight taken off the twins at all; good luck getting him to confess what day it is! The question is dodged every time, so it needs to come from official records.

— When he opens up more, he LOVES Halloween. Halloween being Diavolo's birthday aside, Xavier always loves the creativeness that goes in to the holiday; all the costumes, the acting that goes in to horror attractions, and the themed food where people bring out such artistic sides to make visually appealing stuff. He gets REALLY in to it!

   » Focalor — He's a bit of a miser about holidays... for now. It's pretty clear to see why he'd abstain from holidays; Focalor lacks anyone to celebrate any of them with, any reason to celebrate them. To him they're just absolutely obnoxious events that make getting peace and quiet a lot more difficult, but perhaps that can change in the future.

— Focalor actually forgot his birthday. Don't expect an answer out of him regarding his birthday. Even if he wanted to tell you, he genuinely forgot when it was. A few hundred years of never considering it will do that to a man. It's only recorded in official RAD documents now.

— If he HAD to pick a holiday to celebrate, it would be New Years. Outwardly he tells you it's a good excuse to get blackout drunk and ignore the world, but secretly it's probably the only thing he has left as a measurement of certainty. There will always be a new year, so every year he makes it a goal to see the next one.

   » Aamon — To offset the others, Aamon LOVES holidays. They're his excuses to go all out, to just let loose without a care about his image — after all, no one would blame a demon for indulging in a bit of excess for a big event. You could probably find enough holiday cheer from Aamon in private to make up for 100 dour demons.

— Oh he remembers his birthday. And he hopes you do too. While he wont typically give someone flack for not remembering, it does sting a bit when people forget his birthday especially after he sends a bunch of texts inviting people over to the grand party he throws every year. If you're a party-person, his birthday is not something you'll wanna miss.

— Christmas, when introduced to the Devildom, is his favourite. The expectation to be over-the-top gaudy with decorations and dresswear combined with the act of selflessly giving to others just screams Aamon. You can expect a new yearly party hosted by yours truly, each one with new and unique spins to keep things fresh and memorable. And by Jove he goes above and beyond with beautiful decorations; expect a gorgeous feast for the eyes as well as for the belly when you attend.

   » Shuuji — While he likes holidays, he tends to forget them. He works so much that they tend to sneak up on him and catch him last-minute if he's not explicitly reminded near-daily. Momohime has begun to keep tabs on this and will often leave surprise alarms on his D.D.D with notes so he wont forget.

— He's another serial "hides the birthday date" person. Though he mostly doesn't want people fussing over him or feeling obligated to celebrate his birthday. Plus, a small part of him likes to see if people will try and deduce it and what they would do to learn it thanks to his career as a private investigator in the Devildom.

— If he had to pick a holiday, he'd choose White Day. However he will give back to anyone who gave him something for Valentine's Day, not just those of the opposite gender. For him, the idea of getting a month to prepare a gift to repay those who showed such a simple gesture is one he adores for the sheer delight and surprise it would bring the recipient. He likes other gift-based holidays and birthdays, but White Day feels a lot more personal to him which is what makes it his favourite.

[copias-thrall]

Would it be alright to request some Papa IV x f!Reader? Like the reader is a very kind and sweet person and she has always supported Copia kind of thing? Maybe they’re having a whole day to themselves to celebrate?

Yes! Let’s get some more sweet Copia 😊 

They made fun of him and called him The Rat.

Terzo made him the butt of all his pranks.

Nihil undermined him at every turn.

Imperator pushed him to the point of breaking.

What you saw a man trying to do his best with his only flaw being an outsider within the Abbey walls, and in a place where actual hellbeasts were basically demon cats, were rats such an odd choice of pet?

You were fairly certain Copia knew the “Squeak if u like cheze” sign was taped to his back, but he just walked down the corridors anyway and let the Siblings and Ghouls chitter at him. You’d seen this man save one of the Abbey mice from a glue trap, and your heart just couldn’t let it continue.

So, you’d approached him and offered to remove the offending paper.

Copia, however, had just smiled at you.

“It is good of you to say, Sister. But let them have their fun, eh?”

He’d given you a slight bow and had gone on his merry way.

After that, however, Copia had warmed to you, often seeking you out so he could sit with you in the mess hall at mealtimes or chat theology with you on lazy Saturday afternoons.

When some of Terzo’s faction had started stuttering to make fun of Copia’s shyness with public speaking, you’d tried to shut them down. Not everyone was good in front of a crowd—especially when that crowd was hostile. All that did, however, was get them to double down and start calling you, "rat lover."

“Doesn’t it bother you, Cardinal?" you'd asked during one of your food dates. "It’s so…petty.”

But he’d just given you a fond look.

“It is of no consequence, dear Sister. Let them be thinking what they will.”

You’d learned all of his rats’ names and started smuggling them contraband from the kitchens.

Copia had you transferred from Imperator’s admin pool to work as his assistant.

“All this new paperwork!” He’s swept his arm across the stacks of his desk. “I thought I could be using a little help from a friend, yes?”

You’d inherently understood you weren’t there to file paperwork—you were there to tell him when to take a break, to replace his cold coffee, and to be a sounding board.

And you didn’t miss the way Copia’s mismatched eyes would look on you with adoration.

Well, you thought he was pretty neat, too.

When he’d been away on his first tour, you’d done your best to keep up with him. You had your other duties and your friends, but you tried to send him a supportive word before, during, and after each performance.

His missives back had grown fewer as the tour had dragged on, but each one had been effusive—if riddled with typos.

After the first tour, things had been different. Copia had come back from the road a glowing success…and in a tight suit that showed off his assets instead of his smothering cassock.

The tide turned, and while there were still his many detractors, gone were the days of “kick me” signs and farces.

You’d noticed a significant pay increase and an extra day off.

“But Cardinal! You need me here!” you’d protested.

He’d simply grabbed your hands and kissed each one.

“I do. And that is why you must be well-rested. Lots to get done. Now, shoo!”

And truth be told, the two of you had worked harder. Copia had spent less and less time in his study and more time attending meetings or at band practice or at weekend symposiums. You’d done your best on keeping his mountain of paperwork down to a molehill, but sometimes the two of you needed to work late into the night to meet seemingly arbitrary deadlines while you put your foot down and told the kitchen Ghoul that making some rigatoni past hours wasn’t going to kill them.

Of course, then you needed to put your foot down about Copia stopping long enough to eat the carbonara. Sometimes he’d growl at you, and you’d have to snap your fingers at him and tell him being hangry wasn’t a good excuse to be snippy with you; he was predictably contrite after he’d consumed a good portion, and you took his apologies as your due.

All of which is to say: you had Copia’s back from the get-go, and he knew you were always in his corner.

When he comes back from Mexico newly ascended, there are dozens of Siblings who want a piece of him. Some—like you—have been in his fan club since day 1; others jumped on the bandwagon during the final tour; while a few just see the razzle dazzle and want to shine too.

You’re in his study because you want to make sure everything is caught up before he comes back to work. You imagine that he’s going to spend a few days reaping the rewards of his promotion, and—while a part of you feels a little let down about not being a part of that particular party—you are genuinely invested in Copia succeeding.

So when the door bangs open, you’re startled to find Copia…er…Papa Emeritus the 4th striding into the room.

“Oh! Your Dark Excellency! I was just making sure—”

“How did I be knowing I would find you here, eh? Today is not a day to be working!”

“But you—”

He makes a shushing noise and reaches his hands out. They linger in the air between the both of you until he makes a “come here” motion with his fingers.

Tentatively, you curl your fingers into his gloved ones.

“We are taking the day off, yes?”

“W-we?”

Copia raises an eyebrow at you. “Sí. With who else should I be celebrating?”

You blush, pleased that he seems genuinely baffled.

The March air is living up to its reputation, so Copia leads you to one of the sunniest rooms in the Abbey. There, you find a picnic blanket set up with a picturesque spread of food, and Rain helping Mountain to position a bevy of potted plants around the area.

Copia clucks at them good-naturedly to leave. Rain gives you the thumbs up and Mountain just pats you on the head as they leave. (As Copia’s Girl Friday, you’ve had to backmanage his ghoulies as much as you’ve had to organize his report piles.)

When he gestures for you to sit, you arrange yourself comfortably in a big square of sun that’s streaming in from the windows. As you take in the meats, cheeses, sandwiches, and fruits that populate the corner of the blanket, Copia putters around with a bottle of Champagne and two glasses.

The whole thing is a little unexpected, but not unwelcome, and you watch him with fondness as he utters a Whoopsie when the cork goes flying at the ceiling and as he obsesses over making each glass level.

You two clink glasses with a Salute, both taking a modest sip.

“This is lovely, Cop—uh, Papa.” He’s all smiles. “But why me?”

His eyebrows draw together, and he tilts his head at you.

“Mia cara…who else would it be?”

You blush and shrug your shoulders, looking down at your platter. When he takes your hand in his warm, leathered one, you look up and get lost in his earnest, mismatched gaze.

“You are the most important person in my life.”

His thumb strokes over your knuckles.

“You are too sweet, mia cara. Helping an old man—”

“You’re not old—”

He tsks at you.

“Helping a person I am being. At my side even when you are in the knowing.” He taps his nose and winks. “Our little conspiracy of silence, yes?”

That Copia is not quite exactly the bumbling, nutty-professor he leads the rest of the Clergy to believe he is? Yeah, obviously.

He nods.

“And yet, you are by my side. Keeping my head on straight. Because you are wanting to.”

Because you saw the way he treated his rats, his Ghouls, and even Sister Imperator. He may have a dangerous ambition, but he’s not a dangerous man.

“I believe in you Papa.”

He gives you that fond look again.

“Well. I believe in you too, Sister.”

Copia lets your hand go and claps.

“Now! Let us enjoy this feast! Next up is a movie marathon where we enjoy our food comas, yes?”

You pop a grape into your mouth.

“Of course, Papa.” You give him a devilish smile. “How ‘bout you give the schedule so I can make sure we’re on track, hm?”

He blinks at you for a moment before giving you his little rat laugh.

“Ah, eh heh heh! There is my little taskmaster.”

“What would you do without me?”

He tosses a gape and just barely catches it in his mouth.

“I wouldn’t, cara. I wouldn’t.”

[yandere-daydreams]

Hello! It would be so lovely if you could write something where Beelzebub manipulates the reader into letting him feed on her. So often times he begs for just a little taste of her blood because human blood is like a junk food feast for him. And gradually his ‘little tastes’ get worse over time and maybe the brothers start to notice all the bite marks on her. That would be so lovely! Tysm for your writing it’s so good 🥺💗

You say ‘manipulating’, but he’s so sweet, he probably would even notice he’s doing it. Beelzebub is one of the few Yanderes I can see never really aiming to hurt his Darling, out of the Obey Me cast, at least… that’s not to say he doesn’t, though.

Title: Bittersweet.

TW: Bruises, Blood, Mentions of Death, Mentions of Violence, and Emotional Manipulation.

~

Satan once told you that demons used to draw strength from human blood.

Used to, he’d said, they used to. It was a warning by way of explanation, a word of caution that came in the form of an impromptu history lesson. Lucifer had used it as a threat, when you’d first arrived, saying he’d throw you to a flock of desperate, lesser creatures if you proved to be less valuable than he’d hoped, and once or twice, you’d heard Leviathan mumble something similar under his breath when you were close to beating him at one of his games, Asmodeus muttering how you should be glad he hadn’t drained you dry yet, when you accidentally spilled his favorite vile of nail polish. It was clearly an outdated practice, if it’d ever really a practice at all, but it served its purpose, intentional or not, and you were able to make it into a piece of reasoning you could use, one you could cut and mold and shape until it fit into the slot you needed it to. Until you could use it to explain why other demons were so quick to bear their claws when you tried to speak to them, until you could shrug off Mammon’s protectiveness and Belphegor’s poorly concealed bloodlust.

Until you could explain why Beelzebub was like that, when he was alone with you.

Instinct, you told yourself, a reflex he just happened to hold on to. He didn’t want to hurt you, he’d never want to hurt you, but if you let yourself, you’d start to believe that he might. In his lap, like this, with his hands on your hips and your form nearly eclipsed by his, you were able to see how a bystander might make that mistake, might assume he was aiming to rip your throat out when his teeth got so close to your jugular vein when he was so careless with where he bit down. It wasn’t his fault the rest of the house was empty, that he’d just so happened to come to your room when the two of you wouldn’t be interrupted, and you couldn’t blame him for how violent the results of his minor lapses in judgment looked, to anyone who only saw the blood and the indents rather than the love behind them. They looked worse than they felt, or, you assumed they looked worse than they felt. They hurt, sure, but they couldn’t have hurt as much as they were supposed to.

Nothing could hurt that much, you were sure.

Besides, even if did, you didn’t know if you’d have the heart to tell him. He’d always been the nicest one, out of the brothers, and it was apparent in everything he did. Even in the quiet anxiety of an empty home, it’d only taken you a few minutes to relax against him, to rest your head and listen to a heartbeat slower than any human being’s should ever be. He wasn’t human, though, and it was easy to let him wrap you in his arms and pull you closer, closer, and as close as you could be, until your posture was a little too straight and there was a little too much pressure on your spine and there was no doubt in your mind that you’d be sore, when he let you go. “You smell really good,” He muttered, absentmindedly, his voice low, but not aggressive. Gruff, but lacking the edge that would’ve made it hostile. “You always do, when the others are away.”

“You’re the only one who can tell the difference.” The words were instilled with a playful jeer, but you didn’t move to push him away, nor did you try to pull back as he tugged you against him, nuzzling into the crook of your neck. “It’s only because you’re so clingy.”

“It’s only because you’re so sweet, when they’re not around.” Another retort with an unnecessary addition, but one so tender, you could hardly bring yourself to think of him as jealous, or possessive, or anything but too honest for his own good. You only hummed as his lips brushed over your collarbone, his teeth barely dancing around the idea of biting down. “I like it, I really like it. It makes me hungry.”

You were a little slower to respond, this time, if only by the fraction of a second. If Beelzebub noticed, you couldn’t tell, the only signs of his impatience coming in the form of a prick, a flash of pain, the sensation of hot breath on your skin. “Everything makes you hungry.”

“This is different.” It must’ve been the hundredth time you heard him say that, and yet, it didn’t feel different from his usual state of near-starvation, his usual unignorable, insurmountable cravings. It was something that nagged at you, a mild dread that formed a tight ball in the back of your throat as his hands drifted, one soon splayed over your lower back and the other trailing upward, nimble fingers entangling themselves in your hair, urging you to lean against him. A prick turned into a pinch, a flash to a small spark, and this time, the pain lingered, seeped in, rooted itself into your flesh and refused to lessen, even after Beelzebub had moved on. You didn’t have to look to know there would be a bruise, something blackened and ugly to remind you where he’d been, but he didn’t seem to mind the pitchy noise of discomfort that slipped past your pursed lips. If anything, it only spurred him on, as he found his next target just above the rise of your chest. “I’ve never wanted something, like this, like I want you. I’ve never been this hungry before.” The thought was interrupted by an airy laugh, a fleeting kiss to your cheek as he straightened his back. “I’ve never felt like I could let everyone else starve, if it just means I get to eat.”

His grip tightened, growing oppressive as he dragged himself to his full height, tilting your head to the side and nipping at the space underneath your ear. It was uncomfortable, it was awkward, rigid knots of tension forming the longer he kept you in such a stilted position. It was more of an impulse than anything, the abrupt awareness that he could snap your neck with a flick of his wrist, but before you could stop yourself, you were scrambling to push at his chest, to put just enough space between you and him to get Beelzebub’s attention, to force him to loosen his hold on your hair and let you shy away, even if he was quick to take you by the arm, instead, catching you before you could get too far. Before you could run, like any scared rabbit so close to the jaws of a wolf should. “Please,” You gasped, suddenly overwhelmed, suddenly panicked, suddenly terrified. “Please, I just--- I don’t know if--”

“Take your time,” He encouraged, all the careless fondness drained from his expression, replaced with something concerned, something so, so close to sympathetic. “Breath, (Y/n). You look like you’re about to pass out.”

You could’ve. You might’ve, if his hold on your wrist wasn’t starting to get so crushing. “I don’t know if I can keep doing this,” You managed, your tone frantic, the sentiment bordering on incoherent. “I’m sorry, Beel, but… it hurts. Your brothers are worried, and the marks are always visible, and I’m not sure if I can handle it anymore. I don’t want to turn you down, but--”

“But, you don’t like me anymore.”

Instantly, you deflated, and Beelzebub wasn’t much better. You could feel his stare burning into you, cold and prying, glazed over with some dark mixture of offence and hurt and pain. The effect was immediate, it was excruciating, like a dagger to your heart that just wouldn’t stop twisting. You moved to soothe him, but Beelzebub was already forcing a smile, jagged and wavering and tortuous. So much worse than anything he could ever do to you. “It’s fine, I promise. I know I can get ahead of myself, Lucifer always says that I can be... that I can be self-centered, when I’m not paying attention.” Another laugh, this one anything but careless. Something fractured and broke inside your rib cage, and you wondered if you’d ever forgive yourself. “I'm almost as bad as Mammon, sometimes.”

“Beel, please.” It was still a plea, still an act of fear, but now, you just wanted him to stop. To stop talking, to stop making you feel so awful. To stop making you feel like you’re at fault, when he’s always the one that goes a little too far. “I’m sorry, I just---”

“No, it’s alright. If anything, I should be the one apologizing.” He paused, kissing your temple, but gesture was barely half-hearted. Really, it made you feel more pitied than comforted. “You probably got tired of me months ago, I was just too selfish to--”

This time, you were the one to interrupt him, to throw yourself against his chest with so much determination, you could hear his back collide with the headboard as he wrapped his arms around your torso, the embrace nearly seccond-nature. You didn’t have to say anything, not when you were holding onto him so tightly, when you were the one who wouldn’t to let go, this time. He didn’t have to speak, either. His grin was genuine, now, overjoyed and so, so forgiving as it pressed against the side of your neck. It eas enough to make you forget your guilt, it was enough to make you not care about the bitemarks or the blood or any of it, not if it made Beelzebub happy.

And for a second, it was enough to block out the pain, as he finally bit down.

[labomi]

play by the rules [1]

Nanami Kento is a well-known bodyguard who always adheres to his own set of principles when completing a job. But when his next assignment is protecting you, he suddenly finds himself second-guessing his morals and questions whether or not some rules are just meant to be broken.

pairing: nanami kento x f!reader

words: 2.7k

warnings: none for this chapter, please look at the series masterlist for general content warnings

notes: i’ve been meaning to write a multichap fic for nanami for so long and i finally got around to outlining most of the story and writing the first chapter yay! i’m a little unsure if the plot will actually be good or not lol but i’m hoping it’ll turn out okay! thanks for reading!

series masterlist

There’s a distinctive knock on your door that pulls you out of your thoughts as you lay on your bed with an unopened book in your lap. You had been meaning to read the story for the past three months after seeing rave reviews about it online, but for some reason, you couldn’t quite find the energy to start reading. Every morning, you pulled the book from your shelf with the full intention of getting past the first page. But every night, it was returned to the same spot on your shelf, remaining untouched.

With a quiet sigh, you force yourself to crawl out of bed, leaving behind the comfortable warmth of your blankets. You drag your feet as you walk over to the door, dreading the imminent conversation you’re about to have.

To be honest, you’d rather he just leave you alone to wallow in self-pity in the comfort of your own room. You knew he had good intentions, but you dreaded his frequent check-ins with you. If he had no good news to deliver, you didn’t want to see him. And there had been no good news for the past three months.

You have no expectations that today will be any different.

With a hesitant hand on the doorknob, you take a deep breath and try to suppress the bitterness you feel towards the person on the other side of the door. Once prepared, you open the door with a wide grin and a bright twinkle in your eyes.

“Hi Dad!” You greet him with a high-pitched, chipper voice.

Your father looks pleased to see your lively expression. “Good morning, princess. Do you mind if I come in?”

You manage to hide your surprise. Most of his visits consist of a quick hello just to confirm you’re alive in your room, but he heads off to go back to work. If he intends to enter your room, there must be something serious he wishes to discuss. You try to ignore the small glimmer of hope that flutters in your chest. 

“Of course!” You waltz over to your bed and sit down, patting the space next to you. Your father sits on the plush bed beside you, twiddling his thumbs idly in his lap.

“I’m aware these past three months have been hard on you, princess,” he begins.

You dig your nails into the palm of your hands and bite your tongue to prevent yourself from spitting out a harsh retort.

Yeah, no kidding.

“They’ve been tough for me too.” He pats your leg comfortingly, giving you a sincere, apologetic look. “I hate seeing you stuck in your room all day, but you know I only do this because I love you and because I want to keep you safe.”

Your father’s words are genuinely heartfelt. There’s no doubt he cares for your well-being and bemoans the unfortunate situation, but you’re not in the mood to be swayed by his guilt.

After all, it’s because of him that you’ve been trapped inside for three long months.

“It’s okay, Dad. I don’t blame you.” You try your best to act like a caring daughter who wants to console her father and assuage his fears that you despise him for his actions. “I know it’s for my own good.”

Three months ago, your father fired your personal bodyguard. 

This also meant that three months ago, your father shredded your only ticket to the outside world.

You can only venture outside the family’s property lines if a trained professional, tasked with keeping you safe from potential harm, accompanies you to pre-approved destinations.

Your father worries about your safety in public, because he often does business with local mafia groups in the area. He is not an influential or well-known member of the underground economy, but in this line of work, it isn’t unusual to piss off the wrong person in a deal gone bad. Family members are the most common targets, so you are a natural choice for disgruntled clients to take their frustrations out on. 

On one hand, you believe it is unfair that you are forced to live a restricted life under the constant protection of a bodyguard because of your father. You have nothing to do with his business, yet you must suffer from the consequences of it.

On the other hand, there is no doubt that you reap the benefits from the success of your father’s career. You had never worked a day in your life and always received any material goods you asked for, so perhaps you do deserve to face at least a share of the consequences.

Your father is insistent that you must have your own personal bodyguard after an incident involving your mother that occurred when you were just a baby. There was an altercation when she had encountered one of your father’s enemies while doing some errands alone in the city.

It hadn’t ended well, to say the least.

So for three long months, you were stuck inside. To his credit, your father had immediately begun the search for a new bodyguard, but his vetting process was so rigorous that it was not a timely process. There had been some mishaps in the past with previous guardians, and your father had vowed to never let those mistakes happen again.

You know you should be grateful that your father cared about your safety enough to have a dedicated group of his team spend endless hours thoroughly investigating each and every potential candidate. You also know you shouldn’t complain about being trapped in a luxurious mansion, but you hate being at home.

You hate seeing your father’s workers around the premises.

You hate thinking about what sort of shady business deals are happening just a floor below you.

You want nothing to do with it. You don’t even want to think about it, which is why you prefer to spend as much time as possible away from home. 

“I’m so glad you understand,” your father says with a relieved sigh. “But I have some good news this time.”

Your breath hitches in the back of your throat. The moment feels almost surreal. You had been waiting to hear those words for so long, you almost thought it would never happen.

“I approved your new bodyguard.”

This time, you didn’t have to fake your excitement.

“Really?” you gasp, looking at your father with wide eyes.

He nods at you.

Unable to contain your burst of elation, you throw your arms around your father with a squeal, giving him a fierce hug. “Thank you! Thank you!”

Your father lets out a hearty laugh, patting your back as he revels in seeing your utter joy. “He starts tomorrow, so you may leave the property again in the morning.”

In less than 24 hours, you are free to once again explore the city, visit popular shops, and stop by your favorite restaurants. You can barely contain your enthusiasm as your heartbeat drums in your chest from the rush of adrenaline after hearing such wonderful news. Pulling away from your father, you continue to beam at him, feeling an unusual wave of gratitude towards the man.

A loud beep disrupts the heartfelt moment.

Your father looks at his smartwatch with a tight frown. “I’m so sorry, princess, but I have to go to a meeting now.” He gets off the bed and gives you a small smile. “I’m glad I could finally give you some good news. I’ll hopefully see you for dinner tonight.”

Before your father can leave, you reel in your scattered thoughts after being almost too excited to think straight. “Dad, before you go, can I at least ask for this name?”

You cannot believe you almost forgot to ask such a crucial question.

“Nanami. Nanami Kento.”

You nod at him. “Thank you! Good luck at your meeting!”

Alone once again, you throw yourself a little celebration which consists of childishly dancing around the room blasting your favorite “good vibes” playlist. Afterward, you grab your laptop and plop onto your bed with a satisfied grin. You crack your knuckles. 

It’s time to get to work. 

In order to maximize your free time tomorrow, you need to have a rough idea about what you want to do and where you want to go. But before you start the task, you need to make one important phone call.

“Hey, Itadori.”

Itadori Yuuji is one of your father’s henchmen, but he’s a sweet boy who had nowhere else to go when his grandfather died. Luckily, he isn’t directly involved in the main operations of your father’s business. Known for his fast feet and powerful arms, he is mostly used as a source of manual labor to move heavy boxes that are brought in or shipped out of the various underground warehouses scattered throughout the property.

The two of you had become friends when you saw him trying to sneak food out of the main kitchen during the late hours of the night. Only your family and your father’s trusted confidants had permission to be in this part of the mansion.

Itadori immediately got on his knees and begged you not to tell anyone that he was stealing food, but you just laughed and showed him where the good snacks were located. Together, the two of you had a mini feast using the leftovers from the culinary staff. It was the first of many secret dinners to be held.

“Hey. What’s up?” he answers.

“Can you do me a favor?”

“Yeah. Sure.”

“Can you sneak into my father’s office and copy a file for me? It’s someone named Nanami Kento.”

There’s a groan. “Seriously? But you know how hard it is to sneak into his office,” he whines over the phone.

“I’m sorry, Itadori,” you apologize. You know you aren’t making his life any easier, but you need him to do this for you. “But I know you can do it. You’ve done it plenty of times before without a problem.”

Itadori sighs. He knows he can’t refuse you, not because he’s afraid that you’ll turn him in for punishment (or worse). No, Itadori genuinely likes you, and he’s grateful for your presence in his life for many reasons. Therefore, he does whatever he can to help you out whenever you ask.

“Alright. You got it.”

“Thanks, Itadori.”

Several hours later, a manila folder is slipped underneath your door. With a victorious grin, you grab the folder and set it on your desk. You shoot Itadori a quick text confirming that you got the delivery and thanking him once again for his help.

Quivering in anticipation, you open the folder and see a grainy, black and white copy of a man’s photo on top of the stack of papers. Even with the image’s poor quality, you can see the man’s sharp cheekbones and styled, light-colored hair. You think he looks rather handsome, but you’re not quite sure with the fuzziness of the copy.

Setting the photo aside, you read his file with an interested hum. Because of your father’s rigorous vetting process, the folder is stuffed full of numerous background reports. You vaguely wonder how Itadori slid such a large stack of papers under your door.

Nanami Kento, huh.

You flip over a page and continue reading.

What an interesting man.

“Did you finally accept a new job?” Gojo asks curiously, craning his neck to get a better look at the papers spread about on Nanami’s desk. He spots a photo of a woman among the various files that catches his attention. “Who’s that?”

Nanami rubs his face with an exasperated groan, wishing his coworker would mind his own business for once. He tries to hide the photo under other papers, but Gojo is too quick. The white-haired man easily snatches the photo off the desk before Nanami can touch it and waves it in front of him in a teasing manner.

“Nice try,” he grins, pulling back to observe the photo up close. “Oh, she’s pretty cute. I’m guessing she’s your new client?”

“No,” Nanami answers begrudgingly. He knows Gojo won’t return the photo or leave him alone unless he partakes in the conversation. “Technically her father is, but she’ll be the one under my protection.”

“Oh, so you did accept a new job then.” Gojo returns the photo with a satisfied grin now that his original question had been answered. “Surprised it took you this long to choose one. How long has it been since you finished your last assignment?”

“About three months. I wasn’t in a rush to start a new job.”

Nanami can afford to be picky about his assignments now. Over the years, he has built a strong reputation as a proficient bodyguard who always follows orders and always gets the job done. Now that he is well-known in the industry with a long list of satisfied clients, Nanami no longer has to scramble to accept any odd job. Plus, as part of Gojo’s renowned bodyguard service agency, he can rely on the secretaries to filter out any scams or seemingly impossible requests before they reach his desk.

Nanami is now constantly flooded with inquiries from influential celebrities, notorious mafia members, and other wealthy figures. These people are always willing to pay big bucks for an extra sense of security as they go about their lives, but Nanami is no longer interested in solely the money now that his multiple bank accounts are flush with cash. Instead, he wants to take it easy with a simple, straightforward assignment that won’t involve a lot of gunfire, blood, or death. 

Being a bodyguard is a lucrative career, but it is also both physically and mentally taxing.

Simply put, Nanami is tired.

This is why he waited three long months to find his next job. With each additional request, he ignored how many zeros were listed as compensation and instead took his time to scrutinize the client, their family, and their motivations in seeking a bodyguard. He had a mental image of what he was looking for in his “perfect” job and much to his surprise, he stumbled upon a request that checked almost every box.

While Nanami was lost in his thoughts, Gojo had secretly snatched your file from the desk and had been skimming through it. He couldn’t resist learning more about this new client.

When Nanami returbs to his senses, he sees the missing file on his desk and glares at his white-haired coworker. Gojo just laughs in response. 

“Sorry, sorry. I’m just curious to see what kind of person would pique your interest after all this time, Mr. Picky.” He purses his lips. “Hmm, she’s not much younger than us. Surprised she’s still single too. Aren’t most women in these sorts of families forced to marry early to strengthen business ties? Oh, maybe her personality is so bad her father can’t marry her off to anyone!”

Nanami rips the file out of Gojo’s hands with a scowl. “None of that concerns me.”

“Aww, come on, Nanami,” the white-haired man pouts. “You’re going to be spending a lot of time with her. What is she’s a demon in disguise? Women are pretty scary, you know.”

Nanami figures Gojo skipped the part in the file where your father had described you as a “bright, bubbly young woman who loves to shop and eat”.

“I think I can handle it,” Nanami responds flatly. “After all, I can reasonably get along with everyone except you.”

Gojo clutches his chest dramatically, acting like he had just been shot. “Nanami, you’re so cruel to me!” He then drops his hands and places them on his hips with a devious grin. “Alright, I’ll leave you alone now. Good luck! And don’t fall in love!” He lowers his sunglasses and winks. Gojo can’t help but get in one last jab to irk his coworker.

“You don’t have to worry about that.”

Nanami is a serious professional, one who always plays by the rules. He adheres to a certain set of principles in order to remain successful in this line of work. Without them, situations can get messy, and he has all too often witnessed other bodyguards make the mistake of deviating from protocol and facing the consequences.

There are three fundamental rules that Nanami always follows without fail:

Never go above and beyond what a job asks you to do.

Once a job is finished, leave immediately.

Never get personally involved with a client.

And under no circumstances would he ever disregard any of these rules.

[vad-hander]

I’M YOURS

Pairing: Y/N, Johnny, Jaehyun

Genre: Series | Smut | Angst | Fluff | College AU

Warnings: language, angsty, smutty scenario, love triangle

Words: 6k

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13

***

When Jaehyun said he needed space he truly meant it. He didn’t text you, he didn’t call you, when you would see each other on breaks the maximum he’d give you is a nod, letting you know he noticed you’re here. This felt wrong, because even though he didn’t tell you anything specific, it felt as if you two have broken up. Eating out with your group of friends now didn’t feel good, you felt as if you didn’t belong there, so you just stopped doing it at all.

You were confused as hell. When you would ask Jaehyun anything, he’d reply as if you’re a stranger he never met before, but then you would feel him just staring, and you wouldn’t know how to react. He would stare if Johnny asked you anything, even if it was just him asking to pass the tissue, you would feel the burn on your skin from Jaehyun’s eyes. If Mark would say something funny, making you chuckle, you’d feel him staring again, and you felt judged, judged by Jaehyun that you had it in you to laugh and smile when you two were in a crisis. But you didn’t understand it, you didn’t understand why he did that, because you would see him laugh more often than ever.

So after two weeks of suffering, you decided to disappear from everyone, trying no to cross paths with people that could lead you to Jaehyun. Escaping the building quickly you walked to the cafeteria. You haven’t been there since your first week in college, getting startled by all those students running around. You stood in line for food, getting your phone out of the pocket. Noticing notifications from your group chat you just swiped them away, seeing two more direct messages.

from: D to the Y

“where are you?”

from: Johnny Suh

“we’re at the cafe, where are you?”

Not risking it, you decided to ignore Johnny, texting Doyoung.

to: D to the Y

“I’m not coming”

from: D to the Y

“Jaehyun is looking for you”

to: D to the Y

”don’t lie”

from: D to the Y

“Seriously, he just asked me if I’m texting you”

“should I tell him?”

to: D to the Y

“no don’t.”

“he’s been acting like he don’t know me”

“I’m just disappearing to make his wish come true”

from: D to the Y

“I’ll come tell me where you are”

to: D to the Y

“I’m not sure I can trust you”

“What if you’ll pull some kind-hearted shit sending Jaehyun over here.”

from: D to the Y

“I wasn’t even thinking about it...”

“But I guess you really want it”

“You always say things you low-key hope would happen”

to: D to the Y

“okay bye”

from: D to the Y

“don’t get too surprised when I’ll find you”

to: D to the Y

“what?”

You hit sent right when it was your turn to order, putting your phone away. With the tray full of food you ran your eyes over the hall trying to find an empty table. There weren’t many options, so you sat yourself at the chair in the furthest corner of the room. To not pay attention to people around you, you put your headphones in, sitting facing the wall. Eating the food you bought, you were watching Netflix on your phone to not feel lonely. Getting a full spoon of soup into your mouth, you felt a hand on your shoulder, making you choke on your food.

“What the..?” you began, coughing, trying to face this someone with his hand on you. “How did you find me?” you were coughing non-stop, so he grabbed your cup giving it to you. “Thank you.”

“I told you I’ll find you.” he wiggled his eyebrows sitting down.

“You saw me?” you still were trying not to die from that spoon of soup in your throat.

“I just know your little brain way too well so I immediately knew you’re here.”

“You’re brain is not much bigger.” you wrinkled your face in annoyance.

“Facts, but much smarter.” he laughed making you smile a little.

“Why’d you come?” you bit on your cheek.

“If you’re so worried about Jaehyun, yes, he did ask me about you, I swear. And yes, I told him I don’t know where you are and said I’ll go look for you. That’s it. If you want to, we can go there now to see Jaehyun.”

“No, I don’t.”

“Okay.” he moved your tray closer to him. “then I’ll eat.”

“That’s mine!”

“You’ve been eating a lot these past weeks.”

“And?”

“Doyoung’s to the rescue.” he lifted one of his arms, making a superhero position, beginning to eat afterwards.

You were just sitting there, facing Doyoung and watching him eat. He made all of your thoughts go away just by the way he was chewing, and you felt better.

“What?” he mumbled with his mouth full when he caught you staring.

“Let’s leave.”

“We still have time before class.” he checked time on his phone.

“No, I mean maybe leave this city? Or if not being dramatic to that extent, just leave for today and hang out somewhere.” you made him giggle and he nodded.

“Only because my love for you is immense, I’ll skip an important class.”

“This makes me feel truly special.” you put your hand to the heart, trying to sound as dramatic as possible. “What?” Doyoung mumbled something in reply, but you couldn’t hear him because you were standing up.

“Nothing, I said let’s go.” he stood up as well.

Getting outside you were met by the cold wind, so you immediately held onto Doyoung’s elbow, trying to warm yourself from his body heat.

“Where are we going?”

“I’m cold, can we hang out at your place?”

“Yours is closer.”

“I don’t want to go home...” ‘...it reminds me of Jaehyun’ but you didn’t say the last part out loud.

“Do you want to order food or...?”

“I know!” you exclaimed making people around you turn their heads. “We can go grocery shopping and then we can cook and then we can play PS and then do something fun.”

“Okay.” he smiled at you and continued walking, but you held onto his elbow, making him stop and turn again to you.

“And while we cook, no ballad singing. No sad songs and no you hitting all the notes in this world.” you pointed your finger to his chest with a serious face making Doyoung laugh.

“Deal, then you don’t bring up Johnny or Jaehyun. One word equals one ballad song.”

“It’s not fair though.”

“Then you go wherever you want to and I’ll go to my class.” he walked towards you to go back, but you stopped him with your hands on his shoulders.

“No, I’ll do anything, I need you.” you tried to make a cute sad face and you didn’t know how it worked, but he gave in, dragging you behind him away from the classes.

***

Walking through the store you genuinely regretted not having a car. Pulling the cart through the store, the both of you were taking anything that attracted your eyes, filling the cart even before you went through half of the shop.

“What do you want to drink?” you turned your head to Doyoung, who was scrolling through his phone holding onto the cart.

“I don’t know, alcohol maybe?”

“Beers won’t do... we’re cooking fancy food.”

“I see chips in our cart how is that fancy?”

“It’s a snack, we’re cooking pasta and salad, we need wine or something.”

“You don’t like wine though...” he pointed staring back into his phone.

“I can do that for the sake of our fancy dining.”

“Okay, and if you can’t, grab cola, I have whiskey at home.” he moved the cart forward, but you stopped him, giving his cheek a kiss. “What was this for?”

“For you being thoughtful and caring.”

You went different ways, getting the last bits for your private hang out. You went to dessert area, picking something sweet for you two to finish the feast.

“Okay... let’s see...” you faced a cart fully packed with food “how are we going to carry all of this...” you sighed “okay, anyway...” you ran with your eyes through it “I think we can go check out.”

“Good, I’ll pay”

“No, I’ll pay, place is on you, so food is on me.”

“We can half it then.” he suggested.

“No, I told you I’m paying.”

“I’d rather you be this enthusiastic to carry those bags, I’m not bothered with spending money on our food.” Doyoung pointed while laying everything you picked out on the check out. “Go put everything in bags.” he pushed you, noticing how almost everything from the cart was out. You put most of the stuff into your bag and shopper you thankfully had with you today. The rest was put into plastic bags, when you heard the cashier saying “thank you for your purchase, sir”. Instantly you realised what Doyoung did, willing to fight with him.

“I told you I’ll pay.” you frowned grabbing the bag and going outside.

“But I did.” you turned around trying to face him and stop from walking. “I’d appreciate you move, these bags actually weigh a lot.”

“Oh...” you just sighed continuing to walk with Doyoung. You two walked in silence staring at the building you were passing by “I’m going to transfer you the money. How much was it?”

“I won’t tell you.”

“Then I’ll send you 200$.”

“Are you crazy? We didn’t spend that much.”

“Just tell me.”

“3$”

“Doyoung!”

“Pay for Jaehyun.”

“What?” you laughed at him and he frowned not getting it why you’re so smiley.

“I said pay for Jaehyun.”

“OMG! Now you said it twice. Should I sing you a song? I mean, two, since one word is one song. Wow, amazing.” you could see on his face that he understood it now, biting his cheek to prevent himself from laughing.

“Seriously? Amazing?”

“You should be more bothered with me singing.” you pointed out when you finally reached his home.

“It’s the last thing that bothers me right now.” he laughed, letting you enter elevator first.

You got to his place, that was as neat and clean as ever, it almost looked like an Airbnb. Dropping the bags on the floor, you startled him by grabbing his face into your hands right after he locked the door. You pushed his face closer, making him lean, and moved your mouth closer to his ear, beginning to sing.

“When I can’t sleep at night without holding you tight, each time I try I just break down and cry; pain in my head oh I’d rather be dead.” you were screaming into his ear not trying to hit any notes but to annoy him. He squeezed his eyes in pain and wrinkled his nose saying something you couldn’t understand. His hands that were trying to push you off by your shoulders moved to your waist and you chocked on air losing the rhythm of the song. You tried to continue but his hands were making you feel weird so you just let him push you back, letting go of his face.

“Let me go I want to drawn in the sink.” he let go of you laughing, taking his shoes off and walking straight to the bathroom.

You just continued standing at the entrance, feeling phantom of his every finger on your waist.

‘What is up with you AGAIN?’ you shouted at your own self in your head ‘Don’t even try to pull ANYTHING. I can’t believe you’re ready to jump on anyone even if it’s your best friend.’

‘You do realise the ‘you’ here is YOU?’ the voice replied and you felt the urge to leave Doyoung’s house immediately.

“Why are you still standing with your shoes on, come on.” Doyoung talked to you like you were a child, pulling you out of your thoughts into reality.

You walked into the kitchen, helping Doyoung put everything away. When you two finished, you fished your phone out of your jeans pocket, looking for a recipe.

“Improvise” he roughly grabbed your phone from your hands, making you moan in protest. “No recipes, let’s cook with our hearts.” He said looking into the distance and you laughed.

“I’m not the master chef, I follow recipes.”

“You follow recipes but don’t follow anything else...interesting.” he mumbled filling the pan with water.

“What?” you barely heard what he said, but you guessed by his tone it wasn’t something sweet.

“You heard me.”

“Barely.”

“Not my problem.” he raised his eyebrows playfully smiling at you.

“Repe-e-e-a-a-t” you moaned in frustration getting meat out of its package.

“I said you don’t follow anything, I’m surprised you follow recipes.”

“What do you mean by that?” you raised you brows at him, chopping garlic.

“You know exactly what I mean...” he sighed looking around the kitchen for something.

“It would be better if you’d elaborate.”

“I won’t, because you’ll be shouting in my ear again if I’ll begin.”

“I know you don’t like what I’ve been doing lately, but I’m doing my best to go back to normal, and I was hoping we’ll have today to hang out freely and have fun.”

“Right, let’s chill out and not care for anyone outside my place.” Doyoung smiled at you softly, and you caught his stare, smiling back at him.

The two of you spent around 2 hours in the kitchen cooking. You didn’t obstruct each other, but worked in unison. The atmosphere was calming but at the same time exciting because the two of you were singing to your favourite songs while working. It felt undeniably warm and right, Doyoung was the piece of the puzzle that fit perfectly into the missing spot, and you couldn’t think about anything else except how he was your definite soulmate, and you were hoping that he felt towards you the same way.

Finishing off your cooking hours by placing everything at the coffee table in front of his TV, you sat down on the floor leaning onto the couch, crossing your legs. Doyoung sat next to you, making your knees touch. You locked your eyes on the spot your bodies were connected, wondering if he noticed anything. His hand, unexpectedly landed onto your knee that was touching him, and you were scared of what he would do next, did he want to do something...? He gripped onto your knee tightly, and you lifted your eyes, trying to see his face expression. You quickly got disappointed and embarrassed of your own self when you noticed he was just unknowingly using your knee as something to lean on while reaching for the bottle of wine that was standing on the far corner of the table. You frowned and got mad at your own self for making things up.

“Ouch.” he shifted half of his weight onto your knee making you whine.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t realise.” he laughed and squeezed your knee gently to say sorry.

‘Of course he didn’t notice. What a surprise, you just need to shove your hormones up your ass and calm down. He doesn’t try to hit on you, he was the one judging you for wanting Johnny while you’re with Jaehyun, he won’t make you do something he judged you for. Honestly, you’re so pathetic’ the war in your head was going strong.

“Let’s try this wine, what if I’ll like it.” you brought your glass closer to Doyoung.

“I’ll honestly be surprised, I’ll definitely have to memorise the brand.” he smiled to himself while working on the wine bottle cork. Pulling it, he wrinkled his face cutely and you felt weird again, trying to make your eyes leave his face, but you couldn’t.

Finally, he poured red drink into the glasses, placing the bottle back on the table. You both lifted your drinks, holding it up slightly. Doyoung looked into your eyes with a hope and smiled at you, and you took this as his hope for you to say something, so you did.

“To us being like this forever. I hope we’ll have each other even when we’ll be old and with 10 grandchildren by our sides. You’re my dearest friend and I trust you more than I trust myself. I hope you’re always happy and never way too bothered because of me because I know I’m your pain the ass. Cheers to us being soulmates.” you stretched your arm trying to clink with his glass “I love you to the moon and back, Doyoungie.” you smiled at him and he finally stretched his arm.

“Cheers to us being together forever.” he smiled and stared at you even when he drank. You assumed he did that to see your reaction to the drink.

“Actually it’s not that bad.” you said, taking one more sip and wrinkling your face and sticking your tongue out because of the taste.

“Yeah, I see.” he laughed.

“No, I’m serious, it’s much better.” you took one more sip handling it better than before.

“Okay, I’m glad then.” he smiled shifting his gaze to the table. “I really want to try what we cooked.” he said hungrily, grabbing the plate you had pasta on, and placing food on your plate first, and then on his. You stared at him taking the first bite and closing eyes in pleasure. He nodded multiple times making weird noises. “Wow, it’s actually so good. Wow, like, I’m seriously impressed with us right now.” you tried the pasta too, finding it surprisingly delicious.

“God, Doyoung, this is actually freaking good. I think we’re the greatest team. We’re probably like meant to be partners or something.” you laughed but felt cringe with the way you said it.

“You’re not wrong though. We’ve been together forever, I can’t imagine you disappear. Maybe we are soulmates?” Doyoung questioned you stuffing his mouth with food.

“You’re still doubting?!?” you resented while smiling.

“With you I can never be sure.” he continued eating.

You cooked too much, but not eating everything would have been a crime, so you were trying to fit everything in your stomachs including the cake you bought for dessert.

“I honestly don’t think I’ll be able to move for a whole week if I’ll eat any more.” you sighed breathlessly, dropping the fork on the table and leaning onto the couch.

“I’m about to explode.” Doyoung leaned too, placing his hands onto his stomach.

“I can’t even move and we were supposed to have fun...” you were barely able to speak.

“We still can have fun...” he grabbed the remote. “Let’s watch Netflix...and chill.” he added after a long pause making you burst in laughter. “Not in that way, you know.” he added shyly and you wanted to add that you don’t actually mind but you were glad you found it in you to stop yourself from saying it out loud. The alcohol and hormones were doing things to you tonight, and you couldn’t stop blaming them.

“Okay, let’s watch Sweet Home, I’m too scared to watch it alone.”

”Okay.” Doyoung quickly found the series on Netflix, turning it on. You leaned your head onto his shoulder, but it wasn’t really comfortable, so you slid down a little, leaning to his side more. Now you were more comfortable and laid your head on his chest, laying your elbow on his stomach, but your wrist on your leg. Doyoung moved a little, hugging your shoulders. The episode finally began, and you were getting soaked into it, not being able to even talk. Doyoungs arm soon fell of your shoulder onto your waist, and you moved closer to him, feeling that crazy sensation inside of your stomach. “It’s not even that scary.” he laughed at you when you tucked yourself closer to him.

“It is a bit.” you said trying to make it look as if you really moved closer because you were scared. Doyoung rolled his eyes at you, but moved his other hand to yours that still was laying on his stomach and your leg. He stroked your forearm with his long fingers and you closed your eyes smiling in pleasure. Hearing screeching and screaming on the TV, you opened your eyes back up, focusing on the series again. When the first episode was over, Doyoungs fingers left your arm to skip intro of the next episode and when he did, he just placed his hand on the floor, making you whine in tiny. You stretched your arm to him and Doyoung eyed you annoyed.

“Please.”

“You’re using me for your own pleasure.” he sighed making a bitchy face and you smiled at him again, not willing to skip anything from the episode.

You’ve watched around four episodes, before you felt like dozing off on his shoulder. He probably felt your body chill under his touch, trying to move his hand from under you.

“No, I’m not sleeping.” you opened your eyes a little, getting blinded by the tv light.

“You were literally sleeping.” Doyoungs voice was caring. “You don’t have to go home you can stay in my bed.”

“First of all, I was not planning to go home anyway, second of all, I wasn’t sleeping, I was enjoying you stroking my forearm, and I would appreciate you continue.” you smiled to him pretending you’re annoyed, turning your arm to your palm to face up, and his fingers landed onto your untouched skin, making you shiver from the slow and light touches of his long fingers. You closed your eyes again, focusing on his arms, one of which was holding you by the waist, and the other one was stroking your arm, moving closer to your palm, making you shiver every time he was reaching new areas. You felt too warm from both of your body heats, but you didn’t want to move because you would lose this exact moment.

After 10 minutes of running around, his fingers moved to your palm, making a few strokes. Doyoungs fingers let go of your arm and you wanted to tell him to continue once again, but you felt how he moved your other arm onto his lap, stroking it too. He didn’t do it for long, quickly getting to your palm. Doyoung placed his 5 fingers at the base of yours, making lines with his nails. You felt the tingling sensation sending strokes straight to your heart. When he was half way up to the tips of your fingers, you straightened your palm out of pleasure, making Doyoung’s fingers land between yours, locking your hands. Your heart went crazy, you felt like it was beating 10 million times per second, but then at the same time, you felt like it stopped beating at all. You relaxed your palm back without realisation making your fingers lock for real, and you swore you felt and heard Doyoungs heart beat with the same speed as yours, but you couldn’t fully understand what really happened in that moment. Both of you couldn’t, Doyoung probably was more shocked than you, and you knew he didn’t move his hand away only because he didn’t really think of this much. You felt him flex his fingers aswell, that’s when you felt like food that was in your stomach could possibly come out out of your throat due to your nervousness. You kept your eyes closed being too scared to face Doyoung. A few minutes later you felt how he began stroking your hand with his thumb, and this time it wasn’t food you felt in your stomach.

***

You fell asleep holding Doyoungs hand sitting on the floor of his living room and you were surprised when you woke up in his bed. Opening your eyes in slight fear, you’ve noticed him laying with his back to you. He was breathing peacefully, making you sure he’s still asleep. You’re heart was worrying about so many things you didn’t know with which one to start. Firstly, you was scared to face Doyoung. You could say you two holding hands yesterday was an accident, but why did not you nor him not moved your hand away when this happened. Why did you not laugh everything off like you usually do when something like this happen? Did Doyoung feel what you felt? Did he feel his heart beating faster? Did he feel anything at all? Or did he just leave his hand as it is only because it felt to him as another way of expressing friendly tenderness and kindness? Maybe he just didn’t think of it at all. At the end of the day, the both of you were comfortable with each other to the extent where you could basically do or say anything, not needing to explain anything. Your mind was racing from one thought to another until the second you stopped yourself. What were you even thinking? Why first thing in the morning you were concerned if he took it as something more? It was for a fact an accident, you weren’t secretly planning anything. But you were confused with your own self because you felt your heart doing weird things. Yesterday you could’ve blamed it on the alcohol you consumed, but why did you feel the urge to feel his fingers between yours even now? Why did your heart ache with all the feelings that were running inside of you. Hormones, which you were still trying to plead guilty, would make you want him sexually, but more than that, you wanted to hold his hand and you felt like your heart might burst if you don’t do it immediately.

So before you could even think you turned to your side, facing Doyoung’s back. Your hand slipped onto his waist, and you moved closer, holding on to his body. You put your free hand under your cheek, not wanting to get way too close, laying your head on him, in case he won’t like what you did or don’t like you in any other way than being friends. Putting a hand on his waist was okay, you slept hugging each other a lot and assuming he didn’t even think of you holding each other’s hands as something else, he wouldn’t mind you back-hug him. You made your hand go lower, making it lay on the mattress on the side of his stomach. You felt now that one of his hands was laying near. You rubbed your face on his back lightly, trying to put away your hair that was on your face. Doyoungs hand, that was close to yours moved a little, and he moved his body, making you fall more onto him, but you were pretty sure he still was asleep doing it unconsciously. The second you felt his warm boney fingers touch your hand, you didn’t feel so sure now about his unconsciousness, he slowly pulled your arm making you get even closer to him, doing the one thing you wanted the most. You genuinely felt ecstatic when he intertwined his fingers with yours. You wanted to not make it so obvious that you were awake, but even with trying your best you couldn’t stop yourself from bending your fingers to hold him tighter. Both of you didn’t say anything, still not being sure if neither of you is even awake. Doyoung moved your hands closer to his chest, and you probably imagined that you could hear his heart beat. Closing your eyes, you fell asleep once again, feeling excited.

You woke up some time later. You weren’t sure exactly how long has it been since you woke up for the first time, or even what time it was, because you didn’t want to move from the bed and you didn’t know where your phone was. You weren’t touching bodies with Doyoung now, you later on completely different sides of the bed, and it made you doubt if you holding hands with Doyoung was just one of your dreams.

You felt shuffling on the other side of the bed, and you braved yourself enough to turn immediately to face him. Doyoung was rubbing his eyes, wearing one of his casual night-wear big ass t-shirts. He looked genuinely cute and you couldn’t fight this fact with your inner self. You saw Doyoung wake up hundredths and thousands of times, but this one you wanted to remember for life. He noticed you staring,

“Hi.” his raspy morning voice sent shivers down your spine.

“Morning.” you smiled slightly.

“Did you sleep good?” he closed his eyes, falling back onto the pillow.

“Yeah, your bed is always comfy.” you chuckled “did you?”

“Yeah, but you were on the way all the time.” he said annoyed, turning to face you. You were making up a joke in your head, when he suddenly moved closer, laying his hand on your waist , his leg over your legs and his head on your shoulder. “I should’ve left you on the floor.”

‘Yeah, it would’ve been better for both of you’ your inner voice replied.

“Mean.” you sighed trying to make your heart stop with that crazy pace.

“I need one more second and then I’ll get up to cook breakfast.” he sighed into you, squeezing you tightly, and then letting go immediately, falling onto his pillow for probably 2 seconds and sitting up.

“I’ll help.” you said happily, dying inside at the same time.

Oh, how you hated that Doyoung was the only person you could discuss everything with and you couldn’t go to him now, asking him how to act in the situation when you feel butterflies in your stomach every time your best friend just look your way even for a tiny second. You had no one to tell you anything, and all you could do is just show Doyoung you like him in whatever way you did, and let him decide.

When you entered the kitchen, Doyoung was frying eggs facing you with his back. You walked towards coffee machine, wanting to help him with you food. When his cup was done, you placed the one for you, waiting for coffee to be done. You expanded your neck, trying to see from behind Doyoung’s wide shoulders what was going on on the pan. He noticed you trying to peek, turning his head and smiling at you softly.

“Wait for two minutes, I’m almost done.” you nodded to him, getting closer and hugging his waist tightly. “Why are you so affectionate today?” he chuckled.

“What do you mean?”

“You look at me with those puppy eyes as if I’m Johnny on our second year.”

“I wish I wasn’t so lazy right now to sing you a song.”

“You want to sing for me?” Doyoung genuinely sounded startled.

“Our deal yesterday, how could you forget?”

“Oh, right. It only was for our evening. Today the deal is expired, you can talk about whoever.” he told you getting food on plates. You still were glued to his back, and he gently rubbed your forearms signaling for you to let go.

“Can we expand the deal?” you asked sitting on the chair in front of Doyoung. He raised his eyebrows at you.

“Why?”

“You’re not busy today? Can we spend today together?”

“Hm, I’m not sure...” he was running his eyes over the room thinking, finally setting them on you “...maybe I’m busy.”

“With what?” you narrowed your eyes.

“With secrets I have from you.” he played with his eyebrows.

“Your girlfriend?” you were trying to make it look as if you were bantering as usual, but you felt dabs of jealousy all over you.

“Yes, her, you were actually right about it.”

“Right about what?” you furrowed your brows. It pissed you how chilled Doyoung sounded.

“Right about me being all by my self for too long. Even if she’s not my one and only, I need someone to chill with besides you, you know.” he smiled at you with the ‘you know what I mean’ smile and you gripped tighter onto the cup you were holding to prevent yourself from slapping his smile away.

“Yup.” you said trying to sound carelessly. “I actually just remembered I need to see my someone for you know, chilling.” you made weird motions with your hands, getting up from the chair. You placed the chair back to the table, making loud noises, though you didn’t want to show you were pissed off, you were pissed off and didn’t know how to stop yourself from showing it. You felt him walking behind you. Entering the room you didn’t close the door behind you, and while you were getting your stuff from there, you saw with your peripheral vision that he was leaning on the door catching your every move. You didn’t have much stuff to grab, so you were quick to get of the bedroom, accidentally hitting his shoulder with yours.

“What’s wrong?” Doyoung walked behind you, much closer than before.

“I’m running late.”

“To where?”

“To do my secrets.”

“Oh come on, stop for a second and look at me.” you looked at him slightly, making him pissed off.

“Cut it.” Doyoungs hand grabbed you by the elbow, trying to turn you to face him.

“What the hell?” you exclaimed trying to get out of his grip.

“Exactly, what the hell. You jumped up being all aggressive and now won’t even look at me.” he let go of you and now you turned around to look at him.

“I can’t believe you.” you said madly.

“What, why?” he tried to hold onto your palm, but you pushed him back, making all of the stuff in your hands fall. He tried to grip his hands on your elbows once again, but you were so mad and pissed at him telling you about his girlfriend only now, after you imagined all type of things in your head, you didn’t want him to lay a single finger on you. You fought with him, trying to stop him trying to reach you. Doyoung was taller and stronger, and no matter how hard you were trying, you felt how you lost the battle.

“Stop, don’t fucking touch me!” you exclaimed when his palms landed on your face, trying to make you look at him. Your hair were in the way, so he moved them back with one of his hands. His thumb gently rubbed your cheek.

“Tell me.” his eyes were pleading you.

“Tell you what?”

“I made up the girlfriend thing to see your reaction.” you felt your heart sink “And I think I wasn’t wrong. Tell me.” you stared into his eyes trying to find at least a word or two to tell him. Tell him literally anything, but you couldn’t make them come out, so you didn’t find anything better then try to kiss him.

Your hands landed on Doyoungs waist, and you stepped a tiny bit closer, and he relaxed his hands on your cheeks. You stared into his eyes for what felt like eternity, before you moved your eyes onto his lips, that were driving you crazy. You moved your head even more closer, opening your mouth slightly to plant a kiss.

Doyoungs hands suddenly got their strength back, making your head go further from him. You whined in displeasure, licking your lips.

“No.” he said it to you as if you were a child “I won’t kiss you, until you do what you should if you really want me.” he let go of your head, leading his hands from your shoulders to your palms, intertwining them all of a sudden. Now you were sure, the feeling you had yesterday were the butterflies in your stomach because they were back again. You held onto both of his hands tightly staring. Doyoung leaned his head slowly, not breaking your eye contact, leaving a quick wet peck on your neck, almost making you lose balance.

You knew exactly what he meant saying you should do something, this something was to choose between him and Jaehyun.

____

I’m sorry, I only prove read half of it, but I hope you’ll enjoy this part anyway

It’s a long one, so please let me know what you think!!

I love reading your feedback <3

[feanorianethicsdepartment]

more thoughts about the homecoming au, the au where maedhros and maglor get brought back to tirion after the war of wrath to be prettied-up trinkets on finarfin’s shelf, with painted-over scars and muffled screams. it is dark, it’s full of all kinds of emotional and caretaker abuse, and the brothers weren’t exactly in a good state of mind before any of this happened. @sunflowersupremes wrote the initial au that wasn’t even meant as horror, @outofangband - this au is as much theirs as mine, several of the concepts here were originally theirs, and a lot of this originally came out in dms with them. part 1 is here. this part contains gaslighting, loss of autonomy right at the end, more suicide mentions (thanks mae) and just general abuse from people who care more about their own comfort than the people they’re supposed to be caring for. it’s worse than the first part, honestly

most of the stuff the fëanorians had on them when they surrendered got taken away pretty fast. which is honestly understandable; some of it was cursed, a lot of it was weaponry, all of it stank to the high vault of the stars

but they both managed to hold onto some personal effects, or get them back before they went in the incinerator. a broken locket, a torn-up book, nothing fancy, nothing large, but things that still mean a lot to them

the valinoreans aren’t entirely comfortable with this. they find a lot of the brothers’ comfort items mildly disturbing, stained with darkness and (occasionally literal) blood as they are. maedhros had this dessicated finger he refuses to explain anything about that got disposed of very quickly

maglor has a few strands of brightly coloured thread, spun around each other somewhat inexpertly. he tends to pull it out when he’s feeling depressed, working it between his fingers until he feels like he can face the world again

one day, one of his minders who gets along better with him asks where he got it. from the twins, maglor admits. it’s part of some embroidery elrond abandoned when they left -

and it’s snatched out of his hands. his minder looks down at him compassionately. ‘i know you miss them, but you caused those boys a lot of pain, you know? you shouldn’t romanticise your relationship with them’

which - maglor’s relationship with the twins was complicated, and while it wasn’t nearly as hellish as elwing fears, it wasn’t entirely healthy. maglor was dependent emotionally on the kids a lot more than any adult should be to children, and vice versa

because the twins were the last people he had left. when maedhros executed celegorm’s servants with no warning at all, this rift began to grow between the sons of fëanor and their followers. they’d always been terrifying, but they’d also been comradely and inspiring, the white-hot stars around which their people orbited. but when they turned their fangs on their own host, all that started to fall away, leaving only the fear behind

it got worse after sirion. by the time vingilot rose in the sky, maglor’s only real remaining relationships were with maedhros, who he hated as much as he loved, and the twins. watching over them, talking to them, not hurting them - it kept him grounded in reality, kept him sane

he knows, he knows, he knows, they’re better off without him. but his time with them is the only happiness in his memories that still feels real

but the valinoreans can’t accept that. the exile was an awful time with nothing in it worth keeping, and the sooner he can recognise that the faster he’ll be back to his old self

besides. their caretakers don’t like being reminded of their more... unpleasant deeds

(elwing sidebar: elwing and eärendil are having an easier time, because the teleri have experience dealing with trauma and are also just more accepting of the right to have your own take on your own experiences. still, though, elwing occasionally hears that a proper telerin mother would have stayed with her children, even if she had to give up the treasure her people died for to the monsters of her childhood nightmares)

(elwing was a young adult in a horrendous situation with no obvious way out, elwing is dealing with her own damage as best she can, elwing is valid, we stan elwing. she’s also one of the few direct-ish sources the noldor have for beleriand and what the fëanorians did there, and her (perfectly reasonable!) perspective colours a lot of their treatment)

in general the valinorean noldor are quite sure they know what beleriand was like and how it felt to be there, and aren’t particularly interested in being proven wrong

it was miserable, it was harrowing, it was nothing anyone should want to think about. it was a long nightmare maedhros and maglor are so fortunate to have finally woken up from

and you can kind of see why they think like that? the ones who have seen the hither shores saw them when ash rained from a void-black sky and almost everything was dead, and the survivors told stories of a long hopeless defeat and cruelties beyond imagining

but that deep black image blots out the genuine joy they felt in those five hundred years, the chance to prove their own greatness, the knowledge they were doing something good, nights when music echoed across the gap, warm hands in a cold fortress. there were things in beleriand worth remembering, aspects of the people they became there legitimately worth keeping

and even if there wasn’t - five hundred years. the scars on their bodies make it plain to see, every little piece of who they are was shaped by beleriand, for worse and for better. they just can’t leave it behind

their valinorean caretakers find this horrifying

maedhros likes to exercise. it keeps him calm, gives him something to do. it’s not something nelyafinwë was super into - he was more the peripatetic type - but it’s a feasible hobby for a noldorin prince to have, so he’s allowed to do it

sometimes, though, he’ll unconsciously shift into the old combat forms, precisely timed drills ingrained into his bodies. the first few times he does this, his minders are bemused more than anything, but then one day he happens to have a stick in hand to use as a mock-sword

then every time he starts to slip away into that meditative trance, hands reach out to stop him and hold him in place. ‘there’s no need to fight here, maitimo,’ an elf he knew before the unchaining tells him ever so gently. ‘you’re safe now’

... they say that, but maedhros’ nightmares keep getting worse

it’s like that with everything that makes the valinoreans uncomfortable. whenever they try to speak of their time in beleriand, no matter what they say, they’re told that oh, they know it was hard, but it’s all over now and they don’t have to dwell on it

but even after they’ve spent years in paradise, maedhros and maglor still won’t let go and allow themselves to heal

they just can’t come to terms with the truth of their ordeal

the narrative the valinoreans have constructed erases all of the bright spots, but it also bleaches out the true darkness

certainly they did horrible things, but did they really have a choice? in such a harsh world, they always had to be on guard, lest they themselves be killed. these poor boys never meant to harm anyone, but their father’s cruel madness and the painful chains of their oath and the vileness of beleriand forced them into atrocities they never wanted to commit

(surely the monsters the sindar spoke of wouldn’t cry. they wouldn’t lose themselves in waking nightmares or curl up shivering in well-hidden closets, they wouldn’t jump away from a casual touch or watch every new person like they might be a threat. they wouldn’t convince themselves the children they stole were happy, or talk to the shade of a dead kinsman they abandoned. surely they wouldn’t. surely)

(because if they are, and they’ve let a couple of orcs loose into the royal palace...)

(maglor and maedhros’ movements are pretty restricted. this is mostly for their own protection, but it’s partially - well, just in case. just in case)

this rankles at maedhros, though he tries not to show it. terrible they might have been, but his choices were his own

he was a warlord, he was a king. he expected to be hated for the things he had done. he didn’t expect to be pitied. he didn’t expect to be dismissed

sometimes, when he’s surrounded by people earnestly telling him that he’s not a bad person, he never was, it was all pressure from his father and the oath, he wants to scream that he chose to attack sirion because he was so, so tired of diplomatically dancing around problems he knew he could solve with his blade

but he stops himself, always. he knows how much what little freedom they do have is based on them not being a threat

and he will not wash this peaceful, innocent land in blood. he’ll kill himself first

maglor has lost all such scruples

it’s not often, but when they’re behaving themselves and no one who’s likely to take offense is in town, the brothers get taken out to court events

they paint makeup over their scars (which still won’t heal, everyone is concerned by the implications of this) dress them up in finery, string them with jewels, and show off how well they’re doing

(even if maedhros rarely says anything, and they never leave each other’s side)

tonight, it’s a feast. a minor celebration, nothing too crowded, nothing too loud. there’s revels and merrymaking and all kinds of fun

and after the food has been cleared away, there’s music

would his nephew like to play something, finarfin asks. it’s hard to tell if it’s a request or a politely phrased order

maglor decides he doesn’t have the patience to be taken aside and tell how much everyone wanted to hear his music, and accepts

finarfin smiles kindly. he’s thinking about how maglor’s minders have been talking about how he’s finally stopped trying to sing depressing or horrifying songs and how his voice grows more melodious by the day

maglor is thinking about how they won’t even let him sing about his wife. he wrote no odes to her beauty or her skill in the forge, but he sang ballads about the swiftness of her spear and her laughter after a battle

none of which the valinoreans want to hear. they want to pretend that love never existed, that there could be any joy found in darkness, that she’s at all worth remembering -

he gets up to play, and launches into the most vicious, most hopeless, most painful part of the noldolantë

they try to stop him, but he’s the greatest warsinger the world has ever seen, he’s sung with blood in his lungs over the roaring of dragons, there’s little they can do to block out everything they’re trying to ignore. he wails defeat and death and grief and death and despair and death

when they finally manage to knock him out, their whole petty festival in tatters, shock on their faces, tears streaming from their eyes, all he can think is that if they understand now, even a little, it’ll have been worth it

for the first time, but not the last, he wakes up in a cell

finarfin comes to visit, and starts giving a very disappointed lecture maglor is in no mood to hear. instead he just snarls that nothing they’ve been doing is helping him at all, and he’s so sick of false sympathy and no one listening to what his actual problems are

finarfin shuts his eyes, says ‘i’m sorry to hear you feel that way’ and leaves

a few days later he wakes up with a collar around his neck

it’s demeaning, but he gets released that morning, so he rolls with it. he gets told to never do that ever again, first by his minders and then by maedhros

his minders he nods at until they leave him alone. maedhros he snarks back at that it’s not like he’s doing anything to improve their condition

only he can’t

the words don’t just freeze in his throat, they can’t even form in his mind. what’s happening, he can’t say. what did you do to me, he can’t say. he can’t even scream

as maglor is clutching at his neck (he can’t get it off he can’t get it off) and all the colour is draining out of maedhros’ face, the minder in the room smiles

‘see? this way you’ll stop making yourself and everyone around you miserable. you can still talk about happy things -’

‘they did this in angband!’ maedhros roars, a statement that provokes his first actual fight with their minders. he’s harder to pin down than maglor. bigger

but their caretakers are becoming annoyed with the brothers’ obstinate refusal to let themselves get better. they may be content to wallow in the misery of their past, but inflicting it on others is a step too far

they clearly aren’t going to move any further down the road to recovery on their own volition, so it’s become clear they need a gentle push. is it a little distasteful? yes, but such things are sometimes necessary in medicine

the bright cheerful princes they will be again will thank them for it

oh god how did this end up so long. the last one should be shorter, it’s mostly clearing up some loose ends. why did i write this

[mingoyeob-archive]

omg hey, if not done yet, can we please have 51 + jk? also take your time for part 3, no need to rush and stress about it, you're an amazing writer and good work always takes time 💜

under the oak tree drabble game ⚔️🌳 to make up for my delayed release of part 3 of under the oak tree i’ve decided to do a drabble game!

omg thank you for being so kind 🥲 I wanna end under the oak tree in a good way so I've just been pushing it off until I come up with something thats not a complete disappointment?? but I'm hoping these drabbles give you guys more time to enjoy the characters! hope you like it :)

51. “I can’t help the fact that I’m so goddamn moody all the freaking time” | jjk x reader ft yoongi | word count: 2k

The castle was eerily quiet.

Most days it would be loud with the sound of footsteps and the banging of mugs hitting wood tables followed by the clanking of cutlery. However today, no one seemed to want to make a peep; they were as quiet as a mouse. Unlike everyone else who found the lack of noise peculiar, Yoongi enjoyed it - reveled in it, flourished in it even. Nothing made him happier than being able to sit and enjoy his daily morning, afternoon and evening naps and it made studying all the damn protection spells Jungkook wanted for the castle a hell of a lot easier. But there was one thing that threatened his new paradise, a looming cloud over his glorious fantasy, the grey cloud that he called Jeon Jungkook.

Now Jungkook was never one to be in an especially chipper mood, at least not around most people that is (you on the other hand, seemed to be a completely different story). Yoongi distinctly remembers seeing baby pictures of the lad when he was just a baby with a scowl etched permanently on his face under bushy dark brows. He often found it comical. Here was this lumbering idiot, with a silver spoon practically being shoved in his mouth, the glorious savior of the kingdom, but he was walking around as if his favorite horse had died (which it hadn’t, he checked). It was really starting to get on his nerves.

“Kid, you’ve gotta stop scaring the men. I swore I saw one of them shit themselves the other day.” Yoongi said from beside Jungkook. Currently they sat side by side in the great hall, feasting on bowls of hearty beef stew, the kind with giant chunks of meat and half haphazardly chopped vegetables covered in a thick and glorious gravy. Hmm my favorite Yoongi hummed to himself, eyes slipping shut as he drank up the delicious broth with a loud slurping sound. His spoon made a loud clanging sound against his bowl when he dropped it back down, wiping his mouth to shift his gaze back over to the scowling man to his left. “You know if I were you I would be jumping for joy. You’re filthy fucking rich, whats to be sad about huh?”

Jungkook didn’t even let out his usual grunt in response, opting to continue swirling his spoon around in his stew while glaring down at it as if it had wronged him in some way. But the sudden sound of one the knights from across the hall laughing had him snapping his head up to send a growl over to the group of men which had them instantly silencing themselves, ducking down to continue silently eating their food. Yoongi watched the exchange with amusement, “Yeah you definitely need to get laid.”

Jungkook raised his hand to swing at him to which Yoongi merely stopped with a spell, not even bothering to look at him while he took another spoonful of his food. He knew Jungkook would never try to purposefully hurt him if he knew Yoongi couldn’t protect himself, so this was just considered normal playful banter between the two men. “That’s enough, Yoongi.” He mumbled angrily, dropping his fist to bang against the table. The noise gained the attention of everyone in the dining hall, but none of them dared to turn their heads to look at the commotion, afraid the Duke would redirect his anger towards them. “I can’t help the fact that I’m so goddamn moody all the freaking time.”

“Yeah yeah yeah, you know, that's what tends to happen when you don’t get any for a while.” Yoongi sighed and leaned his hand against his hand, gazing pitifully at Jungkook. He noticed the slight twinge of confusion on Jungkooks face and decided to reiterate himself, “It’s called blue balls idiot.”

Jungkook nearly choked on his spit. Yoongi was never one to mince words and this time was no different, but still his blunt words caught him off guard. “Would you keep it down!” Jungkook seethed, whipping his head around to see if anyone had overheard the topic of their conversation. It’s not like he was scared of anyone mocking him (everyone knew better than that) but still, he didn’t need the whole castle knowing that him and his wife still hadn’t had sex yet since he’d been back.

Yes, you heard him correctly. Jungkook had been back for almost three months and you and him still hadn’t even so much as touched each other intimately. Sure they had a few passionate kisses and lust filled embraces here and there which had left your neck bruised with hickies, but outside of that, neither of you had even dared roaming a hand south of the border. He didn’t know why he hadn’t tried it, perhaps it was because he wanted to make sure you were ready this time, instead of forcing himself on you like last time. He wanted to be positive that you enjoyed yourself as much as he did, wanted to bring you to new heights that made you absolutely euphoric. But until you were comfortable with him enough to let him do so, he would stick to his hand and the dirty images that he had conjured up in his head.

“I know what blue balls are, Yoongi. But I’m perfectly fine with how mine and y/n’s relationship is going.” he mumbled, glaring at the sorcerer. “And I don’t need you meddling in my love life so why don’t you just go and frolic with that stable boy like you do and leave me be.”

Yoongi let out a noise of disagreement, throwing his hands up in annoyance, “How many times do I have to tell you, me and hoseok are not frolicking or whatever the hell you’re into-” Jungkooks foot kicked his leg under the table causing him to let out a hiss but nonetheless he continued, “You can’t keep waiting for her to make the first move. Y/n is a lady and a lady from Aster at that. Those chicks never make the first move.”

Jungkook grumbled and pushed his bowl away from him then sipped at his ale in contemplation. Perhaps Yoongi was right, maybe it was time for him to make the first move. “But how can I make sure she’s ready? What if I fuck up like last time?” he questioned, not bothering to hide the genuine concern in his voice.

The sorcerer just sighed, patting Jungkook on the shoulder, “Trust me, kid. If you fucked up, she wouldn’t still be here. And judging by the noises I heard last time, I’m pretty sure she enjoyed herself.” yoongi shuddered. No more late night walks through the hall he promised himself. “Just try to do something nice for her this time. Don’t just throw her around, take it easy. Try and lighten the mood, understand?”

Jungkook was quiet for a second, the gears turning in his head. When he finally seemed to come to a conclusion, he grunted and nodded his head. The corner of Yoongi's lips tilted up in a satisfied smile and he clapped the man on the shoulder, “Thatta boy!”

Immediately after dinner, Jungkook went to the kitchen to request the finest meats, cheeses and artfully crafted desserts they had along with the sweetest wine the chef could find. The kitchen staff were practically shaken in their boots when the Duke had first walked into the room, afraid they had done something to mess up his dinner. But when they saw how shy yet dedicated the man seemed to be (despite how much he had tried to hide it) they were more than happy to help him, promising him that they would do their best. Jungkook gave them a monotonous thanks and had practically run out the room, up the steps and to the bed chamber. He had a lot to do in a short amount of time.

“I am pooped!” You groaned, complaining to Seokjin about how much work you had done today while walking through the hard stone halls of the castle. You had spent most of today working in the library, learning and going over the finances with Seokjin so you could finally start taking on more of your ‘wifely duties’ and relieving him of some of the burden. “I’m still not sure how the conversion from pences to shillings works. Or is it shillings to pences? Ah, oh well.”

Seokjin merely rolled his eyes as he walked beside you, hands clasped behind his back in his usual gentlemanly fashion. “Yes my lady you did work very hard today. I do believe it is time for you to get a good night's rest so we can start again in the morning.” You whined at his words, stopping as you finally reached the door of your bed chambers. Seokjn just let out a small chuckle at your over the top theatrics, “Have a goodnight Y/n.”

You had returned his well wishes, sending him a beaming smile and wave as he walked back down the hallway. Once he was out of sight you turned back towards the door hand reaching out to grasp the knob. But before you got a chance to even touch the brass door handle, the mahogany swung open in front of you, your tall husband's looming figure instantly coming into sight. “Oh hello!” you greeted, surprised by the fact that he seemed to be waiting for your arrival.

Jungkook just stared at you, is he blushing? You asked yourself. The man didn’t say anything, just stepped out of the way and gestured for you to enter. You thought the whole exchange was weird and cautiously stepped around him, not expecting the sight that awaited you.

You let out a gasp, hand flying up to cover your mouth in shock as you surveyed the room. Almost every inch of the place was covered in the most beautiful and fragrant rose petals, the room lit up from the fireplace he had going across the room. Delicious food and desserts covered the tables so much of it that you had no idea how he expected you to finish it all. “Jungkook, what is all this?” you said, whipping around to look at him as he continued to stand by the entrance, stiff as a board.

He ducked his head, hands coming up to fidget as he nervously looked around the room. “Do you like it?” he asked, finally daring to meet your gaze. “I had Yoongi help me. He said you might like all this...or whatever.”

Your irises were practically lit up with admiration, eyes shining with pure undulated joy. You couldn’t believe he had done all of this for you. “Of course I like it! I mean- I love it! But what did I do to deserve this?”

Jungkook just furrowed his eyebrows in confusion, finally crossing the room to cradle your cheek and stare into your eyes affectionately. “What do you mean deserve this? I love you, y/n. I would give you the whole world if I could.”

His words had your eyes tearing up and you brought a hand up to gently hold the one he had placed on your cheek. Your head turned, placing a peck against the calloused skin of his palm as you returned his gaze, letting your eyes show just how thankful you were. “Jungkook...I love you too.” you whispered, watching as his face seemed to light up with your confession.

The rest of the night was spent dining on the luxurious food the kitchen had prepared, mouths full as you whispered sweet nothings to each other and spilled all of your darkest secrets and happiest moments. And despite the fact that the two of you still hadn’t managed to find your way to the bed or explored the rest of each other's bodies that had laid untouched by one another for quite some time, Jungkook couldn’t find himself to care. He was happy enough to be here at this moment, with you.

Blue balls be damned

[moony-artnstuff]

Commission @rowandor

Note: @rowandor​ here it is, love! I hope you like it ❤

Thorin:

It took a little while for Thorin to get to know you, as he wasn’t really focused on forming friendships but rather on the quest ahead of him. And with yourself being rather shy and introverted the two of you didn’t really talk, at first.

However during the quest he started to notice more and more things about you, like the fact you carried a lot of different notebooks with you. He became intrigued and when he stole a glance he saw you sketching the most beautiful drawings, and before he knew it he had asked you about them and the two of you started a conversation.

When Thorin and you were on night watch he would often ask you about your many talents and interests, thinking it was amazing that you could do so many things (not that he’d tell you that, of course). He found your shy demeanour endearing, and he felt a small sense of pride when he noticed your growing more and more comfortable with him, eager to hear more interesting facts from you

When in a relationship with you, Thorin would get you all kinds of (courting)gifts having your talents in mind; expensive paints and brushes, beautiful handbound sketchbooks, gorgeous writing supplies for you to write your stories with (please read them to him, he loves to hear about your stories).

He would also take you to all kinds of theatre shows, and encourage you to participate in them. And you can bet he will always be there to see you perform.

Thorin knows he’s hit the jackpot when in a council meeting, you come up with the most creative ideas and solutions for rebuilding Erebor, and they work. He’s grinning to himself like heck yeah, look how smart and creative my wife is.

Thorin is pretty introverted as well. Like yeah, he arranges council meetings and attends feasts, but often only because he has to as the king of Erebor. He’d much rather spend his time with you cuddled up in your shared chambers, just talking and enjoying each other's company while you do your own things.

Thorin would never get mad at you if your depression made you incapable of doing your daily duties. He’d tell you to take you a few days off to just relax and take your mind off things. When your anxiety acts up during a council meeting, you’d just have to give Thorin a sign and he’d come up with an excuse for you on why you have to leave.

Fili:

Fili quickly became intrigued by you when he noticed that, although you were always polite and nice when talking with the others, you would often sit by yourself and do something for yourself. Every now and then he would sit with you, and ask you about what you were doing. He knew you were a bit shy, so he tried to take it slow, but he really wanted to know more about you, and when you finally let him in he was so happy.

He thinks it’s so amazing you can do so many wonderful things, and he’s not afraid to ask you to teach him some things, and he’s more than happy to teach you some cool tricks with his blades, if you are interested, that is.

One time he jokingly asked you to make a painting of him, and when you actually did it he fell in love. He shows it off to everyone, saying “look what she made! It’s beautiful!!”

Fili respects that, because you’re introverted, you don’t like to attend big gatherings and such, and he often helps you out avoiding such events, making up excuses for you. The fact that you are an introvert who prefers to spend most of her time in her room is a bonus for him too, because that means he gets to have you all to himself.

He think you’re so amazing, with your strange and mysterious aura, and he thinks it’s so cute when you ramble on about something you’re passionate about, and he will ask you a million questions about it, both because he’s genuinely interested but also because he loves seeing that excited spark in your eyes.

Please tell him everything about what’s going on in your imagination. Fili is so fascinated by what’s going on in your head and he wants to know everything.

He would be so honored if you let him proof-read your stories.

Fili knows when you start feeling really anxious. He will take your hand in his and try to direct as much attention as possible away from you to him. If you need to leave the room he would simply kiss your forehead and lead you outside, helping you calm down and telling you it’ll be alright. 

When your depression gets too much, Fili would hold you tight, softly swaying you and letting you pour your heart out to him. He would dry your tears, kiss you and whisper sweet nothings into your ear, reminding you that you’re not a bad person for being mentally ill, that things will get better and that he will stay with you until they do. 

Kili:

Oh he was infatuated with you since the moment you two met.

You were just so mysterious and interesting! How could he not want to know everything about you?

He thought your shy demeanour was adorable! And it only made him want to get to know you more.

He’d try to find out as much as possible about your interests and talents so he could talk about them with you, and he loves it when you tell him all kinds of different facts.

Kili would want to spend as much time with you as possible, but when you tell him you’re an introvert and need time alone he respects that, and gives you space when you need it.

Kili is your number one supporter in everything you do; you’re performing in a show? He’s gonna be on the front row cheering you on and being mesmerized by you. You’ve written a new story and need someone to proofread? He’s right there! You made a new painting or drawing? Kili’s gonna show it to the whole of Erebor and then hang it somewhere in your room where you can always see it.

I can totally imagine Kili asking you if he can draw with you, and then when you show each other your drawings you made a beautiful portrait of you and Kili made something that looks more like a stick figure with hair but he tried very hard and you love it.

Kili loves your hyperactive imagination, and if you were to help him come up with fun and creative ways to prank someone he would be the happiest dwarf alive.

Kili is an extravert, but he understands that you, because you’re an introvert, need some time alone to recharge. He loves to cuddle with you in those moments (actually kili always loves to cuddle you, he thinks you’re so amazing and he wants to hold you because of it).

When you feel particularly anxious and need to leave a crowded place, Kili is more than ready to act silly and attract all the attention to him, so you have a chance to slip away unseen. After that he will check up on you with something to drink and your favorite snacks.

He hates to see you sad, and always tries his best to cheer you up, but he understands that when you feel really depressed sometimes all he can do is hold you and be there for you, and he does exactly that. He hugs you, kisses you, tells you all the reasons he loves you and promises that you’ll be happy again.

He understands that life isn’t always great, and sometimes it can be really hard to reach out to the good things, so he brings the good things to you. He sneaks all kinds of good food from the kitchen, so everyday he can surprise you with a different meal. He picks colorful flowers so you have something pretty to look at when you don’t feel like going outside, and he reminds you everyday how beautiful you are and that you are enough the way you are.

Dwalin:

What can I say? Opposites attract.

Dwalin really doesn’t know what it was that pulled him toward you, but something did

He wouldn’t admit it, but he thought your shyness was cute, and though he wasn’t really a creative person himself, he wanted to know all about your talents and interests.

He isn’t very good with words, but he tries to compliment your work as much as possible, and ask questions when you tell him about one of your hobbies.

Dwalin is a dwarf of action, so to show you he loves you he takes you out on dates to the theaters, and buys you new paint when you mentioned you were running out of it.

Dwalin loves your paintings. He hangs them all around the house, and they remind him of you when you’re not home.

It’s very good you’re emotionally intelligent, because Dwalin tends to bottle things up. You help him be more open and express his emotions in other ways then anger and food.

Like I said before, Dwalin isn’t the best with words, but he does his best when trying to comfort you, and you can bet there’s no way he’s gonna let anyone treat you like shit for having mental illnesses! If someone even thinks about making you feel bad for not being able to do daily tasks he will not hesitate to punch them in the face and give them a piece of his mind.

Dwalin loves you, and your happiness is his number one priority.

Bofur:

Ohohoho this dwarf adores you!

Bofur is a joyful dwarf who finds joy in many things, most of all creative things. And you can do so many things! How amazing is that? Bofur wants to know everything about you, your mysterious aura only adding onto how much he wants to show you he likes you.

I headcanon Bofur as someone who’s good at carving things from wood (because his cousin is a toy maker, I’m sure he must have picked some things up from that) and he likes to make you little wooden figures.

When you tell him you do theatre he’s over the moon. Bofur loves to entertain others (I mean, just look at that one scene with the dwarves in Rivendell, where Bofur gets on the table and starts singing). He’ll definitely drag you up at least twice to do some kind of show for the company during the quest.

Bofur enjoys hearing you talk about your many talents, and he likes it even more when you infodump him about something! He thinks it’s so cute to see you rambling, looking all excited. But what he loves most of all is to just watch you do your thing. You could simply be sitting by the windowsill, writing away in your notebook as the sunlight falling through the window makes it seem like you have a halo around you, and Bofur would have the most lovesick look on his face.

It’s easy for Bofur to lift your spirits, even when he’s not trying. He’s always smiling, because most of the time he feels genuinely happy. He’s always cracking jokes and his laid back nature creates a calming atmosphere. When you need him to be there for you, he will be there. He’ll caress your cheeks, call you sweet nicknames and remind you of all the beautiful things in life.

Something Bofur likes to do when you’re feeling particularly down is to take your hand, hum a sweet song and just sway around the room with you. He’ll shower you in compliments and cheesy pick-up lines and won’t stop until you’re laughing again.

Bilbo:

You’re an introvert? Bilbo couldn’t be happier. We all know this hobbit is a gigantic introvert himself, and he’s more than happy to just spend all day with you inside or in the garden, enjoying each other’s company and a good meal.

You both share a love for writing, proofreading each other’s work and supporting each other when writing stories.

Bilbo is fascinated by your drawings and paintings. He himself tends to draw some sketches every now and then, but it’s nothing like the things you create. He’s always in awe when you show him your work, and he covers every wall in his hobbit-hole with your paintings and drawings.

You’re the one that got him to love theatre. He would always come and watch when you performed, bringing you a bouquet of flowers from his gardens to give you after your show, and after watching some of them he realized he actually really liked theater shows.

His favorite pastime is to sit in the garden with you watching the sunset, as he smokes his pipe and works on his book, and you sitting next to him drawing the many flowers surrounding you.

When your depression gets extra hard to deal with Bilbo will spoil you as much as possible. He’ll bring you breakfast on bed, fill the room with flowers, take over your chores and just lets you rest until you feel like you can face the day again, and he will never make you feel bad for sometimes not being able to. Bilbo loves you, all of you, and he wants you to be as comfortable and happy as possible.

[fuchsiagrasshopper]

Tall Tale

Author’s Note: I’ve been reading for this fandom for a long time, but was never inspired to write for it until @blah-blah-fuckit-shit and I talked about our frustrations with the direction of the show. This is just me moving forward with an idea, and I might continue to write one-shots should inspiration strike. Enjoy!

Pairing: Ivar x Reader

Word Count: 4555

Warnings: Some NSFW content, language

Ivar sat alone, away from the crowd on the dock as the twin ships coasted into Kattegat. In the absence of his father, the town had thrived as a hub for trade, and merchants from all across the seas were arriving for a chance to show their wares. Today was an Earl from Denmark, visiting with his family to discuss trade agreements with his mother.

Steps sounded behind him, and he felt a large hand come ruffle through his hair. Ubbe gave a laugh as Ivar shot him a petulant look.

"Come to catch a glimpse of her, have you?" He asked, leaning up against the pier with his arms crossed.

Ivar frowned while he patted his hair back into place. He pretended the juvenile gesture was something he'd outgrown, but admitting only to himself he knew he liked the brotherly affection between them.

"Who are you talking about?"

"Earl Alfarr's daughter," said Ubbe. "You must have heard the stories. They say he has a daughter of terrible beauty, who can enchant any man and give him the power to lord over all the lands he could ever want."

Ivar let out a scoff of indignation. "No woman is that beautiful unless she is Freyja, reborn a mortal. These stories are getting more ridiculous."

"Perhaps," Ubbe agreed. "But I wouldn't want to pass up the chance regardless of some baseless tales. If she's pretty, that is enough."

Ivar had seen some of the women his brother had bedded, and pretty didn't always seem to be in the criteria. He let out a breathy laugh for his thoughts, and returned his focus on to the family emerging from their ship.

Earl Alfarr was the first to set foot on the dock, a large man with a flat nose and iron grey hair. He held his hand out to his wife, assisting her down the plank. She was a slight creature, all sharp features, and flaxen hair held together in braids with leather cord. The Earl wrapped her up under his protective arm, and it was clear to see his wife was no shield maiden. 

The fabled daughter was last to follow, and when Ivar spotted you for the first time, his heart raced with exhilaration. None but the Gods could say who the most beautiful woman was to walk the land, but you certainly were striking. It was in your hesitant smile. Your eyes spoke adventure,  but not without the self awareness to be cautious. You laughed at something your father said, and Ivar longed to be close enough to hear what it sounded like.

"Well, what do you think? Is this a woman who can enchant Kings and Earls from their lands?" Ubbe asked him, his eyes gazing at the same sight. 

Ivar forgot this moment wasn't private, and whatever fantasies his mind had been about to conjure had ceased. "She is fair," He reasoned.

Whatever feelings he'd been attempting to hide had not gone unnoticed by Ubbe. He looked down at him with a knowing grin. "I'm glad you approve."

"Approve of what?" Hvitserk asked, coming up behind them while crunching loudly on an apple. Sigurd was with him.

"Earl Alfarr has arrived with his family," said Ubbe. "We were just discussing his daughter."

"The temptress?" Hvitserk spat out his mouthful of apple and leapt up next to Ivar, jostling the dock with his weight.

"Ivar said she's fair," Ubbe said, clapping his hand on Ivar's shoulder.

Ivar knew his eldest brother was attempting to be helpful in including him, but when the conversation swayed towards women, he'd rather be left out.

Hvitserk let out a snort. "I wouldn't get any ideas brother. She'd be too much woman for you."

"What do you mean by that?" He snapped, shaking Ubbe's hand off.

"You've never even been with a woman," Sigurd piped up. "You wouldn't know what to do with her."

"Yeah, best leave her to one of us. A woman like that knows what she wants." Hvitserk rubbed his hand over his mouth looking hungry for something other than food.

The bickering started between them, a fight over who this woman would choose when they hadn't even met you yet. Ivar began to crawl away, none but Ubbe taking notice of his departure. When disagreements like this began, he was always ignored because they didn't consider him a threat. Sometimes it was sparring, but recently the affections of women had been added to the docket. As far as Ivar was aware, they had all been having a taste of the blonde thrall from the hall, but Earl Alfarr's daughter was a free woman, and you wouldn't be passed around like a plate of salted pork.

He dragged through the market on his way back home. Many of the stalls were empty, and most of the people had congregated to the wharf. It made his journey short, and he pulled himself up the steps of the Great Hall in search of his mother.

She always had a smile for him, and it put his mind at ease. A part of him knew his mother's love for him was misplaced since her failed marriage to his father, but it was the only sentiment he was allotted, and he took what he could get with the greediness of a dragon. 

"Mother," he greeted as he hoisted himself over to the large fire burning in the pit.

"Ivar, you are back early my love." She glided her way over to him in delicate steps. The light of the fire made her hair look like it was spun from gold, and rose petals. 

"Your guests have arrived, the Danes. The Earl is fat, and his wife looks like a bird."

"And what of his children? Earl Alfarr has many daughters," said Aslaug. "One is said to be a treacherous beauty."

Ivar shrugged as he threw pebbles into the fire. "It's just a story."

"Stories are what keep us alive after we've gone to Valhalla. Even fables have a stretch of truth in them, like dreams and visions."

Ivar sighed. He'd heard this all before from Floki. Despite always wanting to know more about his fate, he avoided going to the seer. There was always a whisper in the back of his mind, afraid to know that a useless cripple was all he'd ever be.

"Do you think I will marry one day?" He asked his mother.

The spontaneous question seemed to catch her off guard, but she switched to a smile that wasn't so genuine. "Of course, any woman would be lucky to have you as a husband. But why such talk of this now? You are still young, and I would prefer if it was Ubbe or Hvitserk coming to me with such news."

Ragnar had not been much older than him when he first married Lagertha, but Ivar didn't dare say as such to his mother. As much as he coveted for her attention, she in turn clung to him. It was difficult to imagine her taking to another woman in his life. He felt trapped, like a carriage sinking in the mud, doomed to be the forgotten son of Ragnar with no family or titles to his name. 

"Well," His mother said, breaking the silence. "We should have the feast prepared for our guests. They will have rooms prepared here with us. No more talk of wives or dreams today my son."

She leant down and placed a kiss on his temple before leaving to gather the thralls. The hustle to set the hall began all around him, but Ivar remained in place, staring into the fire as if it held the answers to his future.

When his brothers returned, Ivar had already claimed his seat at the table beside his mother. The rambunctious chatter of his siblings settled as they assumed their own spots at the table. Ubbe leaned over to get his attention.

"You left before getting a chance to speak to the Earl and his family."

"They're staying with us, I'm sure I'll get my time," Ivar murmed into his horn of mead.

His eldest brother was quick to realize he was being brushed off, and he righted his position in his chair just as the doors to the hall opened. Earl Alfarr was with his family, being led by a thrall who presented them to the Queen.

"You are a gracious host, Queen Aslaug, and a personal greeting by your sons was most appreciated," Alfarr boomed, his voice deep like a war drum.

"I am honored you've traveled this far to treat with me. We have prepared rooms for you and your family. I hope they will be to your liking, as I know Kattegat is far colder than your home," Aslaug spoke as she sipped on her ale. She beckoned her thralls forward, and they prepared seats for the Earl's family. "Please join me and my sons for your first meal."

Ivar kept his eyes down on his plate, picking at the food with little appetite. The warmth of the mead going down his throat was the only comfort that could satiate him. He snuck glances when he could at you as you spoke amicably with his brothers. Your mother would lean over every so often and would whisper something in your ear that had you smiling. It got Ivar curious as to what was being said, but more than that, he wondered what it would feel like to press his mouth near the crook of your neck and whisper words to turn you red.

The calming presence your family brought settled over the rest of the hall, and it was one of the first meals that didn't end with the brothers shouting. Aslaug invited you and your mother to weave with her in the morning, and Alfarr requested Ubbe to accompany him through the market to educate him on trade in Kattegat.

As the thralls began to clear the table of empty plates and food scraps, you stood from your chair. "Thank you Queen Aslaug for the food and shelter, but the journey was long, and I am exhausted."

"Of course," Aslaug said as she signaled for Margrethe. "Please take (Y/N) to the room we have prepared for her."

"No (Y/N), don't go so soon," Hvitserk begged, reaching for your hand.

"I have a song prepared for you," Sigurd added.

You smiled while pulling your hand out of Hvitserk's grasp. "Tomorrow, there will be time for you to entertain me, but for now I need rest."

Before you left the table, Ivar raised his head to catch one last look at your face. You were staring back, a coquettish grin turning your mouth upwards. A wave of heat washed over him, and he flicked his eyes away. His gut clenched, leaving him unsettled and curious. What did you want from him?

ooOOoo 

Ivar was one of the last to turn in for the night. After the meal he had wandered down to Floki's, unaware he had done so until he had arrived at the boat builder's home. He'd been in search of another voice to help him unravel his thoughts about the future, and who better than the staunch believer of the Gods?

With Floki, sometimes his cryptic responses and blithe giggle left more questions than answers, and Ivar went away frustrated. In his heart he felt he was destined for greatness, but he didn't know how it would all come about. He hated the uncertainty of the unknown. If the Gods had already decided his fate, why couldn't he know now?

He made his way through the hall, the fire now low, and with just a handful of thralls cleaning away the remains of the feast. Sometimes an eye would float his way, but they paid him little mind. Ivar often retired later than his brothers, the pain in his legs keeping him awake at odd hours. Tonight it had been his racing thoughts. 

When Ivar came to his room, he thought he had entered another's chambers by mistake. There was a lump occupying the center of the pallet of furs, and as he dragged himself around the corner, it was your head poking out among the covers.

He wasn't sure if you had been feigning sleep, but your eyes shot opened the moment he came near. A coyness fell over you, and the furs fell to your waist as you sat up.

"Hello handsome," You greeted. Your hair was now loose and wild, a far cry from the tight braids it had been in at the feast.

"Woman, did you get lost along the way to your room?" Either that or Margrethe had done this on purpose, but he doubted a thrall could be so bold.

"So you can speak," You said, throwing the furs off as you slid to the edge of the bed. You were dressed in a pale blue gown, with white rabbit fur trim on the sleeves and collar. Apparently you had gone to your room at a time to change, and had made your way back down the hall with his family's rooms. "You hardly said a word during the feast. I was beginning to think your tongue didn't work."

Ivat scowled for what you said. "Just because I choose to use my words more carefully than my brothers. I don't babble about like an idiot."

"No, I didn't think so."

"What are you doing here?" His eyes narrowed, wanting to come across as intimidating even though he was distracted by the light tapping of your bare feet on the floor while you dangled on the side of his bed. "Did you happen to mistake my room for one of my brothers?"

"I'm exactly where I want to be," You said with your sweet smile. "And I did not want one of your brothers to come to my room, especially the one with the funny looking hair."

Sigurd. Ivar couldn't stave off the grin at your assessment of him. "What do you want then?"

"I'll confess I did not come to Kattegat with my family for an interest in the trade of goods." You came up from the bed, only to kneel down before him on the ground. Ivar swallowed thickly as you brought a hand to his face. "I am the youngest of six daughters, and all of my sisters are married. There are few men of worth or importance left back home that aren't already married. I'm looking for a husband."

"Ubbe is the oldest," Ivar hurried to say as his heart raced. "You should be with him."

"Ubbe is kind, but he is not ready for a wife if he is still playing under the skirts of thralls," You said as your fingers danced their way up into his hair. "And neither of your other brothers are fit to be leaders, not like you, Ivar."

"Stop," he said, grabbing your hands in his to stop your tantalizing teases. "You don't know anything about me. Just because you're beautiful you think you can charm any man, but I won't be a part of your game. Go find another Ragnarsson to use your spell on."

All the confidence went out of you like the passing of a storm, and you slid your hands from his grasp. "That ridiculous rumor again, and here I thought the sons of Ragnar would be above all of that."

Without a word you gathered your skirts, and headed for the door with your eyes downcast. Ivar's face twisted into confusion, and he held up a hand, as if reaching for you. "Wait, what do you mean?"

"I'm sure you're well aware of the story of Earl Alfarr's daughter, a woman so beautiful that she can have any man and his lands. The woman in that story is not me, it's my eldest sister, Saldís. It was just a tale, spread by my father and her husband to gain clout amongst the other Earls." You crossed your arms while looking guarded. "That stupid lie has followed me everywhere I go."

His first assumption about the rumor being false had been correct. Ivar flushed like a fool. You had come to his room, seeking him out because it was what you wanted. The only threat to him not winning the favor of a beautiful woman was himself.

"Don't leave yet," He mumbled, hating the taste of failure. "I'm sorry...alright."

"Maybe I overstepped as well," You replied as you pulled away from the door, striding back to the furs where you took a seat. "Fortune favors the bold, or so I've been told, but you probably didn't want a strange girl intruding on your room."

You were the first woman to come to his chambers willingly. Not a thrall, and not his mother. Ivat felt a sudden shyness, which he tried to overcome by climbing onto the bed beside you. 

"You called me handsome."

Your head spun to face him, and you let out a laugh for his jest. "Yes, and you called me beautiful. There's a boldness in you as well."

"Is that why you think I'd make for a good leader, and husband," He prodded, longing to hear more of your compliments. 

"Maybe, and I'm sure there's more about you waiting to be uncovered," You said, your eyes searching his face. "I didn't mean to come across as desperate with the whole husband business. It's just...all of my sisters are married, and it's lonely for me. It's horrible being alone."

Your words were his. He had thought them a thousand times, wondering if the Gods had made him to be the loneliest mortal on midgard. Now he was sure you were fated to meet.

"Stay with me tonight," He spoke the words fast, afraid he'd hold them in otherwise. 

You made a sound of delight, and your soft hand fell over his. "Yes, but only if you promise to come back to Denmark with me when I leave. I want to show you my home."

Ivar had never left Kattegat, but a yearning for adventure was what he had been seeking. This was the Gods way of guiding him to his future. 

"I've always wanted to see new places," He said, his fingers intertwining with yours. "I will go with you."

You lit up with surprise. "I'm happy to hear you say that. I didn't think you would accept."

"Never offer anything you aren't willing to lose," Ivar advised as his hands started to trace up your arms.

You pulled away, and for a moment he was afraid he had become too forward, but you did not go far. You stood before him, your knees touching his and trapping him on the bed. Ivar felt like twitching. He did not want you to feel his frail legs.

"I feel like the victor, so please allow me to be bold once more and offer something else."

You paused, as if toying with an idea in your mind. Abandoning reserve, you reached for the large collar of your gown and slid it down your shoulders. The heavy fabric dropped down your body with haste, and pooled at your ankles.

Ivar had seen women naked before, but always by mistake. Usually it was catching the thralls with his brothers, moments that were not meant for him. Standing before him bare in the night, with nothing but the flicker of the low fire light dancing across your skin, you were there to be admired by his eyes only. He leaned forward, lips parting. One of his brothers would have said something arousing, but all of his quick wit left him as he drank in the sight of you.

You took a step, raising your leg free from your dress, and bracing it up on the furs beside him. Ivar didn't know what to do with his hands as you lowered yourself onto his lap, so he fisted the soft material between his fingers. He wanted to touch you, but everything he had seen in those stolen glances at Margrethe with his brothers was forgotten. It was you on top of him, the warmth you gave off reminding him of that.

"I've never shown myself to a man before," You whispered, pressing your forehead against his. "Touch me, Ivar."

You were a free woman, and daughter of an Earl, choosing to come to his bed. In his mind, he had made peace with the idea that any woman who would come to him would be a thrall. But you, a woman of high standing, was draped over him and begging to be touched. When your hands laced together at the back of his neck, he reached for your breasts, and gave them a soft squeeze. 

You shuttered and gasped, causing Ivar to let go. "No, don't stop. I've just never had a man's hands on my body like that, and yours are rough and strong."

Feeling more reassured, he brought his hands back to your chest. Your nipples cut to points under his palms, and the soft flesh was pliable beneath his fingers. His cock grew half hard at your moans, and you brought your lips down on his. His hands were trapped up against you as you pressed tight to him, and he struggled to keep his mouth closed until you bit his lip. Your tongue plunged into his mouth, and Ivar finally gave way to his first groan. 

When you pulled back, Ivar tried to follow with his mouth, but you pressed a finger to his lips. "I want to feel your flesh on mine."

Your hands pulled at the hem of his tunic, and he helped you slip him free from the garment. Just as soon as the night air touched his skin, you had pressed your front up against his chest. Your breasts squeezed together, forming a thin cleavage between them that he wanted to press his face into. When your hands started for his hips, it was like being thrown into the frozen fjord, and the spell broke.

He latched his hands firmly on your wrists, halting you. "Don't," He said, breathless and angry.

"I'm sorry," You said, and there was no animosity in your words. "We can stop for now. I just want to stay beside you."

His cock was starting to go limp as his heart slowed and the disappointment began to ascend. The feeling was not unfamiliar. He had never pulled on himself like most men would do when unable to find female company. Whenever his cock had stirred to life, he would wait until it receded. Having you perched on his lap, a wet and sticky spot forming on his crotch from your rutting, he felt ashamed. 

"I won't know how to please you," He confessed, his voice small.

"Yes, you will," You retorted. You reached down between your thighs, gathering your slick on two of your fingers before bringing them up to his lips. As you smeared your love on his lips, Ivar opened his mouth for a taste, and sighed with contentment. "We will do everything together. There is time for us, and I don't want it to be a quick and meaningless hump."

"It won't be," Ivar said, his eyes locking onto yours. You let out a yelp as he suddenly pulled you down on the bed with him, your body still held firm against his. "You will stay?"

You had already started to drape a large fur over the both of you before settling with your face pressed into the hollow of his throat. Your tongue was hot as you traced it through the divot. "That is my promise. I won't go until you tell me to."

Now that Ivar had you, it seemed unreasonable to conceive the idea of ever letting you go. He had you, and you would always be his. While you fell unconscious beside him, his fingers traced up and down the skin of your back, only coming to still once he joined you in sleep.

ooOOoo 

"Where could she have gone so early?"

Ivar awoke to voice just outside his door, a cascade of quarreling that he recognized as his brothers. They had managed to wake you with their ruckus, as you stretched and shifted with a groan. You smiled down at Ivar, remaining above him as you were when he had taken you to bed.

"They are like a gaggle of geese. Are they always like this?"

"They never stop."

You were about to say more, when Hvitserk's shouting broke through the air.

"Ivar!"

He came in through the door without so much as a knock, stopping short as he spotted your naked back. Ivar pressed his fingers deeper into your flesh, possessing you.

"Umm...what?" He stared at the both of you, his brows high on his forehead and his mouth opened. "I found her, Sigurd."

"No, don't call him--" Ivar started, but it was too late.

Sigurd came in with Ubbe following, and they appeared just as astonished at the sight of you. 

You didn't seem to mind the attention, rather you played into their surprise by caressing your hand against Ivar's face.

"I suppose I'll have to join with our mothers soon. They are looking forward to weaving," You said aloud to no brother in particular. 

Sigurd was the first to react, letting out a huff while blowing passed Ubbe to the door.

Hvitserk's face broke out into a grin, and he let out a barking laugh. "Well played, little brother. I hope she earns you many lands."

"I will," You said, turning to Ivar as your breath tickled his skin, and your words rattled his heart.

When it was just Ubbe who remained, he kept a respectable distance by the door. The look on his face was one of contentment. "Tell me Ivar, do you still think she is fair?"

Ivar felt the heat rise to his face, and it was difficult not to seem bashful as you watched him with curiosity. "Go away," He grumbled, throwing his head back and closing his eyes.

Ubbe chuckled. "That's what he said to me when he first saw you on the docks. You are fair (Y/N), and I hope you keep each other happy."

He shot out of the room after, but not before Ivar lobbed a mug of stale mead at him as a parting gift. His reaction had you laughing, and you sat up with the furs falling down to your hip.

"Perhaps I cast a spell on you after all," You teased.

Ivar's eyes shot open, and you let out a shriek as he pulled you back down beside him. "And how are you planning on winning me these lands? You aren't the woman in the story, remember?"

"I know that, but your brothers don't. Why not have a little fun first?" You said as you ran your hand over his arm that held you.

There was something devious in your smile that Ivar loved to see. He kissed you again, slow and patient in his victory. His future might have remained clouded, but the Gods had fated him to you, and that was enough to give him the courage to face the unknown.

[guardianofrivendell]

Lost in Translation

Éomer x reader

Requested: Nope

Warnings: mentions of certain body parts and a bad ending 

A/N: Wow! Not a Legolas fic? You’re as surprised as I am :) This is just a silly fic I wrote a while ago for another fandom, and I kept thinking how this would be perfect for Éomer. Slightly AU. 

Words in bold are in Elvish.

“Come on, Y/N, hurry up. There’s not much time left!”

You shuffled right behind your friend, muttering profanities and cursing your inability to say no to her. She could’ve carried a few things herself instead of making you drag it all alone. You weren’t her slave. Although you probably were at this point. 

When you entered the kitchen of the castle, you put down all the baskets your friend had made you carry. Before you could say anything, they were already gone, doing who knows what. 

How did you let them trick you into coming along, you thought, shaking your head in annoyance.

Your friend worked in the kitchens of the castle of Rohan, and was in charge of organizing the grand feasts and balls King Théoden held. This morning she had visited you, in the middle of a nervous breakdown because her kitchen staff was sick. You knew there was supposed to be a big ball tonight and now she was left to handle it alone.

You genuinely felt bad for her and really wanted to help, so you made the mistake to ask her what you could do. And that’s how you ended up as her kitchen maid for the evening. No, scratch that. Kitchen slave. 

*

Two hours later everything was ready for the guests to arrive. The food in the kitchen was ready, the tables in the ballroom were set up and the ale and wine were stocked. 

You were wearing a plain dark green dress and your black flats. You had tried to keep your braided hair up with the few hair pins you had. It wasn’t your best shot at a decent hairdo, but it would have to do. It’s not like you really knew the people that were coming tonight. This was a feast for the upper class, and you were definitely not a part of that. 

The guests started to arrive and you anxiously waited in the kitchen with your friend, waiting for her signal to start and walk around with the food.

This was the part you dreaded the most. You weren’t the social type, and to be thrown out there in public, asking strangers if they wanted something to eat was a step too far. 

But you had promised your friend to help her out and you weren’t the one to break a promise. Besides, you would get back at her eventually. She owed you big time after this. 

*

You felt your feet aching when you put down the empty serving plate on the giant table in the center of the kitchen. All the appetizers were served and you were desperate for a break. 

You put your hands on the table and leaned forward, trying to remove the pressure of your feet. If you would allow yourself to sit down, you probably wouldn’t be able to get back up again. It’s not like you were being overdramatic - okay, maybe a little bit - but you weren’t used to standing on your feet for this long. Why was this a good idea again? 

Your friend looked at you sympathetically, but noticed something different. 

“Okay, who caught your eye?” 

You looked at her questioningly, shrugging your shoulders. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Y/N, come on! You’re blushing!”

That comment made you blush even more. You looked the other way to try and hide it from your friend, but you should have known she would notice. 

“So you did meet someone? Tell me!”

“No!” you hissed at her. “If I tell you, you would only try and make me go talk to him.”

Before your friend could say anything, you were interrupted by a young nobleman coming into the kitchen. This was highly unusual. 

“Excuse me my lady, would you mind hurrying up with the rest of the food? The guests are waiting,” he asked with a bored expression. 

Your friend smiled at him, gently guiding him out of the kitchen. “Of course my lord. I am sorry for the inconvenience. My servant will open the buffets right away.” 

Servant? Oh, now I’m suddenly the servant. But you had to give it to her, she knew how to work these people. If it were you who had to handle that person, you’d probably rolled your eyes at him and told him you only had two hands to work with, not four. 

“Okay, Y/N. You heard me, go to the tables in the great hall and help the guests serve their food. Whatever you do, don’t leave the food alone. Especially the desserts because I made just about enough for everyone. I’ll help out as soon as I can.”

“Yes, my lady,” you said, making a small curtsy as a joke. 

*

This was something you almost enjoyed. Almost. 

People came to you and you only had to see they didn’t overfill their plate, so there was enough for everyone. If you saw someone having trouble cutting off a slice of meat, you gave them a hand.  You preferred this work over the walking around with appetizers job, because this time you didn’t have to look people in the eye. 

Except with one person of course… 

You had noticed him when you were walking around with your plate. Clumsy as you were, you tripped over your own feet and if it weren’t for him, you had thrown all the stew on the ground. He had grabbed you by your upper arms and steadied you, without spilling one drop of the stew. 

“Wow, quick reflexes,” you gasped, and then your breath hitched because you finally had a good look at your saviour. 

He was tall, but not towering over you. Dark eyes in a gruff, but friendly face. Your eyes trailed from his broad chest, down his forearms and then his hands, which were still holding on to your arms. 

“Are you okay, my lady?” he asked. 

You blinked a couple of times and smiled. “Yeah… Yeah, I am alright. I am sorry, I’m so clumsy!”

“Don’t worry about it,” he smiled. 

You held up the plate to him. “Stew?”

After he took one of the bowls, you rushed around handing out the other bowls, your eyes often wandering towards him. Even though he was talking to some of the other guests, he always returned your gaze. When you finally handed out the last one, he winked at you and that made you return to the kitchen with flushed cheeks. 

When he joined the line at the buffet, you started to get nervous. What if your clumsiness made you do something embarrassing again? Oh my god, what if you chucked some gravy on his expensive clothes?

Your hands started sweating and you wiped them off on your dress. He passed you, filling up his plate without asking for assistance, and you were almost disappointed he didn’t take one look at you when he suddenly said, “My name is Éomer.”

You stood there perplexed, not realising at first it was you he was talking to. But when his dark eyes met yours, you answered automatically. 

“Y/N.”

“Nice to meet you, Y/N.” He smiled and walked away with his plate only half full. You followed him with your eyes and forgot you were holding a serving spoon, dropping it to the ground with a loud clatter only a few seconds after. 

Your friend had chosen that moment to come and assist you. She had one eyebrow perked up and you half expected her to tell you off for whatever she thought you were doing wrong, but to your surprise that didn’t happen. 

“Was that him?”

You sighed, shaking your head in response. You should’ve known this was coming. 

“Come on, work with me here,” she said, starting to speak in Elvish. The both of you learned the Elven language when you were young and often switched to it if you wanted to have a secret conversation. Since there weren’t any Elves present, it was safe for them to use it.  You rolled your eyes, there wasn’t anyone there at the buffet so you got away with the gesture. 

“Fine. Okay? Yes, he is the one I was talking about,” you admitted. 

“Well? Go talk to him!”

See? You knew this would happen. 

“I can’t leave the food. The desserts need protection.”

“But there is another dessert waiting for you.” She nodded her head towards Éomer. 

You bit your lip. 

“He is cute though.”

Your friend nodded, a smirk appearing on her face. “Has a nice butt too.”

Your eyes widened at her comment, thanking Eru Illúvatar nobody could understand what she was saying to you. At least, you hoped no one could. 

You couldn’t help but let your eyes wander to where he was standing, glancing at a particular area. When you looked up again, you saw him staring back at you. You felt your cheeks burning, realising you were caught staring at his butt. You saw your friend barely holding her laughter. 

After a couple of minutes Éomer was lost in the crowd. By that time a lot of guests wanted dessert so you were thankful your friend was there to help you. 

When Éomer joined the line at the end of the buffet, you drew the attention of your friend again with a little wave. 

“He does have a nice butt.”

“It’s probably not the right time for me to say to you that I understand Elvish?” a voice sounded, making your blood run cold.

“Y-you do?” your friend stuttered. 

Éomer grabbed a slice of cake. 

“I had to learn it because we do a lot of business with the Elves of Lórien. It comes in handy once in a while,” he grinned. 

You were still speechless. Your friend noticed and thought she could intervene and ‘help’. 

“Well, then you know Y/N over there thinks you’re really cute.”

He looked at you, his eyes full of mischief. It was adorable. “Does she now?”

He took a bite of his slice of cake, his eyes never leaving yours. 

“She also thinks you have a nice butt,” she added. Éomer almost choked on the piece of cake in his mouth. That’s it, you were going to plan her funeral later tonight. 

“I’m so sorry,” you tried to apologize. 

“Don’t be, I’m flattered,” he laughed. “What do you say, when you’re done here, you want to go and take a walk outside with me and my butt?”

“I’d love to!”

*

When the feast was over and you were almost done cleaning everything up, your friend called you over to the kitchen. 

“I talked to one of the guards just now.”

“And?” you asked, not understanding where she would take this. 

“They always speak Westron when communicating with Lórien,” they whispered. “Éomer doesn’t understand Elvish at all!”

You looked towards the mostly empty hall, where Éomer stood waiting for you. He had an extra cloak hanging over his arm, for you to use on your walk, and was looking towards you. 

“You don’t understand a single thing of what I’m saying to you, do you?” you said to him. He just smiled in return, a slight panic in his eyes. 

“Hey, at least you got a date out of it!” your friend laughed. 

[penguintransporter]

Winning The Game Called Love (Hector Bellerin) Part VIII

Hello, everyone! It took me a while to post this, but fear not - I have another chapter edited and ready to update next weekend. I contemplated for the longest time if I should post continuation of the chapter VII or maybe write a flashback that is entirely in Héctor’s POV, and decided that some of his thoughts wouldn’t be bad - so consider this as a filler even if it’s an entire update. Enjoy, let me know what you think, and don’t shy away from my inbox. You can read the first seven chapters of the story - here - along with the rest of my stuff. Lots of love, and stay amazing as always!

There was rarely a moment in which the canteen of the Arsenal FC Training Centre didn’t feel like a mini circus of some sort.

Buzzing with noise at any given time of the day, the spacious and with the long tables packed room often hosted a diverse bunch of people of different backgrounds and nationalities, ages and paychecks, contracts and positions in the club – all of them taking a refuge from their daily routines. More than often, administration hermits, trying to escape their paper-stacked offices mingled with millions of pounds worth footballers who needed their fuel before or after their training sessions, and all the high-positioned officials in their suits were known to chat away their coffee breaks with the wonderful Simone behind the canteen till.

Still, on that Friday noon, as the world was waist-deep in the month of December, the entire room felt just a little bit quieter than usual. 

As he sat alone at one of the long tables, waiting for his teammates to join him for lunch, Héctor wondered if the certain quietness was caused by the miserable weather outside or just because the feeling of yet another year slipping away was weighing down on people’s minds – including his own.

With a shake of his head, Héctor scooped some of the food on his fork before setting down his knife on a plate in front of him, looking at the windows that span along the wall to his left – the abundance of greyness greeting him. One would think that after all the years since he’s moved to England and started calling London his home, he would have gotten used on the picture in front of his eyes, but he wasn’t, and he knew that he won’t ever be.

Looking away, Héctor pursed his lips as he lazily chewed on his mouthful before glancing at the time on his phone as he reached for his knife to scoop more food, but he couldn’t help but freeze in his movements – the familiar scent filling his nostrils.

Oranges?

Confused, Héctor swallowed before leaning back in his chair as he felt the air leaving his lungs.

It wasn’t as if the oranges were something he rarely had the chance to smell, but only a handful of times the particular scent could make him feel the way he did as he apprehensively breathed in – memories of his childhood breaking out on the surface of his mind.

Warm, hot late autumns. His hand firmly held by his grandmother’s as they walked along the less-known pueblos where the oranges on the trees, bent by the their own weight, were just a reach of a hand away.

Héctor let his eyes wander as discreetly as possible around the canteen, trying to find the source of the smell that brought back the picture of the little Belle and the sight of the oranges laying along the sides of the pathways – their sweetness and stickiness an invitation for a feast for all the ants and flies.

Skinny, little boy in a sailor-striped t-shirt; thin-soled tennis shoes slippery on the cobbled slope; smell of home-cooked paella in the air.

She.

The irritating girl from the reception sat at the end of one of the long tables in the corner along with some other employees whose faces Héctor vaguely recognised, but despite it, it seemed as if she didn’t belong the rowdy bunch of five men. She seemed to be in her own little headspace, quietly looking at the round fruit she held in her hands – eyebrows slightly narrowed in a thought.

The white collar of a button down played a peek-a-boo from underneath the scruffy navy-coloured jumper she was wearing, hair tucked behind her ears and away from her face, and a pair of beaten-up shoes on her feet – she looked out of the place among the sea of red tracksuits and football kits. Héctor watched her drop the orange to her lap before looking at her phone, grinning at something, and without even realising, his leg started to bounce ever so slightly. 

She’s probably dating someone equally irritating as she was.

Realising that he was staring, Héctor looked away quickly, sucking a deep breath before running both of his hands through his hair, pausing for a moment – his fingers interlacing behind his neck. He wasn’t sure what it was that has possessed him, and God knows, he didn’t want to do it in the first place, but he did it anyway. Glancing back at her again, he observed her as she dug her nails into the skin of the orange – nose scrunching a little when the aromatic juice sprayed against her face.

He could almost feel it too—

¡Joder!

Héctor���s head snapped quickly in front of him, rubbing his face in frustration before looking at the doors of the lunch-room, hoping to see someone who could distract him from looking towards the one person he didn’t want to spend his time on.

A feeling of relief washed over him as he saw Calum walk inside the canteen, giving a quick wave to Simone before picking up a plate to serve himself from the large containers that were neatly arranged along the till. Héctor’s eyes followed his teammate, waiting for the tall guy to look in his direction so he could wave him over. 

He hated how jittery he was beginning to feel, so when his teammate scanned the room for a free seat, Héctor quickly raised his hand, ignoring the feeling in the very pit of his stomach that he couldn’t comprehend.  

Jesus Christ!

“What you’ve got there?” Calum asked with a grin, and Héctor returned the smile, but for some reason, it didn’t quite feel right. His teammate slid in the chair next to him, peering at Héctor’s plate, “Beans? Really? Have you not seen all the food out there, Héc?” he grinned, pulling the sleeves of his tracksuit jacket up to his elbows, ready to dig into his food.

“What’s wrong with my beans?” Héctor asked, smiling a little as he took another forkful of his lunch, just in time to see Rob and Alexandre, walk in, quickly serving themselves with the food before walking over to where Héctor and Calum sat. Héctor looked back at Calum, waving his fork in his mate’s direction as he continued to talk, “It’s healthy, makes me run faster than you, and honestly mate,” Héctor stopped to take a sip of water, “it looks better than your chicken.”

“Chicken again, I see,” Rob commented passively without a greeting as he sat down opposite Héctor – long legs trying to find space under the table. Alexandre followed shortly, balancing more food than the plate could actually hold in one hand, while typing on his phone with other. He nodded, sitting down – his eyes never leaving the shiny screen.

“One day he’ll turn into a chicken,” Héctor joked before glancing at Calum from the corner of his eye while chasing the white bean covered in the tomato sauce around his plate.

His mate let out a small chuckle, carefully taking a bite of the grilled poultry in his mouth, “You say that now, but you’d become a carnivore again for a chicken like me, Heccy.”

“What did you just say?” Alexandre asked, looking up from his phone with a grin, “Héctor, my friend, I beg you, stay vegan. He’s not worth it…” he trailed off before the four men started laughing, earning an amused and curious smile from Simone who passed by their table, and dirty look from one of the elder officials who tried to focus on whatever he was doing on his iPad. “Anyway,” Alexandre started as they calmed down a little, setting his phone away and grabbing the fork only to stab chunks of steamed carrots and broccoli, looking up at his teammates, “do we know who’s going to be David’s date for the charity party? Rumours say he’s single again.”

“Do we care?” Rob asked, grinning to himself as he still tried to find a comfortable position for his legs.

“Why yes,” Alexandre responded, earning a lifted eyebrow from Héctor in return, “my bet is Claudia or even, what’s her name, the tall blonde that’s always running around in the physio room.”

“Eveline?” Rob curiously asked, unscrewing the cap of his water bottle with ease to take a sip, “I think she’s married, but yeah, then definitely Claudia, that’s if the boss let’s him ask her out.”

Calum shook his head swiftly before glancing towards his right for a second, “I think he’ll make a move on our pretty, little sunshine called Aida,” he commented, nudging Héctor under the table.

“Why are you nudging me?” Héctor asked with a laugh, setting his cutlery down as he decided to join in the conversation. “Am I missing the joke? Who’s Aida?”

As soon as the words left his mouth, all three of his teammates looked at him – amusing smirks on their faces, and as Héctor was the one to buy on the paranoia feeling that washed over him, he’d say that the entire room was looking his way as well. Deciding that his best bet was to ignore their questioning stares, Héctor shrugged before breaking the piece of his bread and running it along the lip of his plate – picking up the leftover sauce.

“Are you taking the piss now?” Rob asked, genuinely interested now in the course of their conversation as he smirked, leaning forward, and Héctor shook his head, sticking the piece of the soaked bread into his mouth.

“Why would I?” he asked – feeling as if he was missing on some important joke, “I don’t know if this idiot’s nudge was supposed to tell me something,” he added before grinning at Calum, and just as he was about to add something else, the sound of a chair scraping loudly against the linoleum floor interrupted him. Simultaneously, they all looked up and in the direction of the screeching sound where the receptionist girl was smiling apologetically towards no one in particular.

Héctor felt the knot in his stomach rise up to his throat, but he swallowed it quickly back as he, along with his mates, watched the petite girl with the messy hair scoop the orange peels in her palm, while balancing a dark-green water bottle under one arm and a lilac notebook between her lips.

The Arsenal’s right-back looked down at his plate – piled vegetables and grains staring back at him before clenching his jaw in annoyance. He could vaguely hear a commotion and Simone’s laugh, not caring about what Calum had yelled in her direction, and caring even less about what she had responded before laughing that loud, but nonetheless contagious sound.

“Since you’re wondering,” Alexandre grinned, sticking another carrot into his mouth when Héctor looked up at the Frenchman, “that’s Aida.”

**

“—honestly, I think she’s actually nice to have around. Quite funny,” Rob responded to whatever Calum had said as he wiped the beads of sweat off of his face before leaning forward on his stationary bike.

Next to them, Héctor wanted to groan out loud like a teenager would when being interrogated by his mother about his whereabouts.

He wasn’t sure nor could he pinpoint the exact moment when the name of the receptionist girl was dropped again in their conversation, but there it was – levitating around them as he shared the corner with the treadmills and stationary bikes with Rob, Calum and Leno – the German lad being his usual reserved self.

Héctor knew very well that there was no real need for them to talk about her, but the grins that his teammates were giving him were a proof enough for him to know that they were doing it on purpose. 

Hate was a strong word, but he couldn’t say that he enjoyed it either. Not after he was already—

Focus.

Instead of giving in on his teammate’s banter, Héctor rather focused on the sound of his trainers hitting against the treadmill’s moving belt.

“She’s also babysitting Auba’s son sometimes, no?” Bernd mumbled, smiling his tight-lipped smile.

Calum chuckled at the tall goalie next to him, “I know many lads that would love to be babysat by her.” 

Despite wanting to keep his mouth shut, Héctor couldn’t hold back the snort as he lowered the speed on the treadmill, while monitoring his heart-rate.

“I just don’t understand why—,” Héctor started, but quickly stopped himself, “never-mind.”

“What? You wouldn’t?” Calum asked, looking at him. “I am sure she’d love to babysit you if you only let her,” he added teasingly, and as much as he hated himself for doing it, he actually wanted to laugh at his bad joke.

“WHO WOULDN’T WANT WHAT?” David boomed from where he was jogging towards them – wild hair tied up in a ridiculous palm-resembling-something on top of his head. Joining them, he leaned casually against the side of Héctor’s  treadmill. 

With a curious smile, David glanced between the group of men before his eyes settled on a Calum who was still looking at Héctor with a smirk.

“Heccy doesn’t fancy Aida,” he answered matter-of-factly before wiping some of the sweat off of his face with his jersey. Next to him, Rob rolled with his eyes before reaching out his towel which Calum refused with a shake of his head.

Their Brazilian teammate had an amused yet shocked look on his face as he looked at Héctor with a silly grin. “What? Really? Everyone fancies her!”

“Exactly our point,” Rob interjected and it was Héctor’s turn to roll with his eyes, “but apparently, Héctor here doesn’t.”

“You do know that I am still here?” Héctor asked, forcing a grin which only earned him a handful of playful looks from his teammates. “Besides, I have every right in the world to not fancy someone.”

“But you do like brunettes, no?” Calum asked as he started to run again, and for once Héctor wanted to be outside, in the freezing cold, preferably running next to someone who didn’t ask such stupid questions or was usually consumed by their own thoughts – Sead maybe. “—okay, maybe she’s not all legs or whatnot, but still, sometimes the compact ones are the best…”

Hoping off of the treadmill, Héctor grabbed a towel that rested on one of the chairs in the corner, refusing to hear the rest of Calum’s statement or to give in into the banter. 

“You really need to find a hobby,” he grinned after wiping his face before leaving his teammates and making his way towards the other end of the room that was reserved for heavy-weights and strength training.

Standing there alone and tying his hair in a ponytail, he glanced through the windows to his right, and as if it was a force of something above, the receptionist girl walked past – steps quick as she wrapped her scarf around her neck, shielding the lower part of her face from the harsh wind. 

Héctor shook his head as he looked down at his trainers before glancing back up, only to catch a glimpse of her silhouette disappearing around the corner – the soft scent of oranges returning to haunt him for a split of a second.

What if...

No.

[so-i-dont-forget-again]

So I Don’t Forget Again: A Breath of The Wild fanfiction

Entry 152: Zora’s Domain

 It somehow felt natural waking up to his smile. It seems like he didn’t notice I woke up at first. He apologized, asking if stroking my hair work me up. He just meant to move some hair away from my face, but he accidentally just kept going. I honestly don’t know, but the was sun rising anyway so maybe the change of lighting was what did it. In the temples the lighting hardly changes, it just barely gets darker at night, I have to really look for it to tell.

Sidon apologized for falling asleep, he meant to keep me company though the night, though he was so glad to awaken with me asleep beside him. He hadn’t been awake for too much longer than me. A prince has many duties so he must rise with the sun he says.

Sidon was glad I finally let myself sleep a little. He asked me how I felt about it. If it was scary or not. It was somewhat, but I felt safe to try. Sidon was glad, though he did wish I would sleep where the doctors could monitor me.

I’m healed, though some infections are still inside me. The doctors thought that sleeping naturally healed me, but that can’t be. I know for a fact I have slept out under the stars when injured and I did not awaken healed. The new theory is that I heal when asleep only when in a bed, or I’m comfortable. I also told them about how the hot springs can heal me too. They’ve started discussing finding some Sheikah scientists and seeing if together they could figure out how my body works.

Purah said she was going to go to the Revitalizing Chamber to study it. I wonder if she’s still there.

The doctors kept me for a while, and my infections have actually spread. This was why they didn’t want me to fully heal just yet. Thankfully the damage was able to be fixed for my side before so it’s just in my arm again. They want me to stay a bit longer to adjust my medicine and make sure it has no adverse effects on me. They told me to not use my arm still, or if I must, be gentle with it, they don’t want it to possibly reach my bones or other organs. It’s eating away at me in a way, so if I’m not careful, I could tear something, and the infection gets inside and not stay outside and it will become much more difficult to manage.

Sidon had mixed feelings about this. At least I could finally take the splint off.

I never knew food could taste so good! After all the tests and pocking at my arm Sidon and I cooked again! I missed eating much more than I thought I ever could! We cooked so much, it was practically a feast and we fed the whole town. Even the King was impressed by my cooking and loved trying Gerudo cuisine! The feast lasted through the whole afternoon. Sidon and I only got to eat after everyone else was full and done, but I don’t mind. They popped into the kitchen once in a while to help or to just chat for a bit. It was nostalgic to make honeyed apples again. I should visit Kakariko Village soon. Any food that was left over I finished. I’d like to try combining different cuisine, I think some of the different pieces placed together would compliment each other well! Sidon was excited by the idea.

The kitchen can get really hot, so a nice cool bath was perfect after the meal.

Sidon filled the bath with bubbles again and massaged the goopy stuff in my hair and on my scalp again.

Taking baths just feels so great. Sidon agreed with me that renovating my house to add a bath was a nice idea. I think I’ll keep the bathing plants outside so they can keep growing even when I’m gone traveling. I’ll just pick what I want or need and leave them by the bath when I go in. Maybe I could keep a fire rod at the bottom to heat the water. And maybe I could get a waterbed as well. It would be nice to expand the house a little and add a bigger kitchen. I could also possibly work the land around my house for a while so I can just grow more rarer ingredients, though the plants from the desert might not be able to grow in dirt.

Sidon told me he loved hearing me speak like this.

Speaking of houses actually reminded him of something. After reading my memories a while back, Sidon wanted to help with the construction of Bolson’s town in Akkala and found a zora who’s name ending with son who was willing to go there and help. He had experienced much of life, being alive when the Calamity struck as a warrior. He just wants a peaceful life. His goal is actually to wed a couple, and surely people would want to get married in the new town. One of the Gerudo women who came traveling with Sidon, her name also ended in son so Sidon convinced her to go. So all that is left is to send a Rito their way.

I should go back and check up on the place some time soon. I’m going to Rito Village soon anyway so perhaps after I help them, though I will be going past the Akkala region on my way there so maybe I should pop by for a quick visit.

Sidon wondered if my healing only worked when I am comfy and happy. Perhaps though the water was not hot, if I were injured right then if I’d be healing. He noticed that I heal when I’m comfortable. I don’t heal when traveling because I’m likely on edge or only half asleep prepared for an attack. It would explain why baths, sleeping in a bed in a town, and eating could all heal me, because they all relax me and make me comfortable. I could see that, but then I wouldn’t have been injured so long here getting to be with him so much.

Sidon asked me if I ever get scars even though I heal. I’m not entirely sure. I know I had scars on my body when I woke up from my hundred-year sleep. I also try to eat as soon as I get hurt so they’re gone so quickly I never exactly get the chance to even remember where they were.

Sidon asked if he could have a closer look at my scars. He gently traced them, like when he was reading the engravings about Zora history. It was like he was trying to memorize them. He said it was almost surprising how such a little body could fit so many marks. Some of them are slightly discolored from the rest of my skin, some of them sink deeply into me. Sidon said he’d never seen scars so big.

Sidon let me trace his scars. He has one the left fin thing on his head. He got it from a great battle with a giant octorok that swallowed him whole.

He became oddly quiet though, then he asked me if he could ask something related to my darker thoughts. He asked if I ever wish I never woke up, that I was never placed in the revitalizing Chamber. I feel like I should have died with them, but do I want that as well.

I think if I truly grasped this situation I’m in sooner, then maybe yes. If I remembered my past when I woke up instead of not recalling a thing, I think I might have.

If I wasn’t alive there would be no one else to finish what we had started. We’d all be restless, and the others will keep being like that till I defeat the Calamity. My want to protect everybody, make sure they are happy is worth much more than eternal rest to me. If I stayed dead, then so many more people would have gotten hurt than even now with the Yiga clan chasing me. Besides, as much as I hurt, there is so much here that was not a hundred years ago. I never would have met Yunobo, or Riju or Kass a hundred years ago. And I never would have gotten to see how amazing Sidon would have become if I somehow continued to live on in that time. I have something that outweighs the pain, even if at times it is all consuming and I almost forget everyone, but that’s why I write here in the first place. I re-read this every night, so I don’t forget.

Sidon told me it truly is a miracle that we were able to meet now. He is so glad we were able to meet, but he was wondering if all the pain was too much. He doesn’t want to be blind to my feelings, he wants to understand me.

At times it feels like he knows me better than I do. I’m not sure how he could understand me better, but I’m glad he wants too. He told me that he’s glad I feel the same.

Sidon asked if I’d stay with him in his room tonight. He found himself unable to let me go yet. He wanted to stay by me longer. He told me it was selfish of him to want for all my time, but he couldn’t lie to himself, so he had to at least ask, however he made sure I didn’t feel pressured to go. He never wanted to force me into anything. He only wanted me to be with him if I wanted too, being with me would feel fake otherwise, and he wants to keep our bond genuine.

Sidon only travels sometimes since he’s busy taking care of his people. Still though, he dreams of traveling more, like when coming to save me, his logical reasoning being making closer ties between his people and others, but he also just wants to travel. He wants to see the towns, experience life in other places and experience their cultures. After Mipha’s passing he was somewhat ignored and coddled. For so long, even now everyone is focusing on Mipha and grieving her, it’s still a fresh wound for many of them. Because of that he was just kind of there, still cared for, but just there. Though as the last next of kin in the royal family he couldn’t leave the Domain too often for his safety with all the guardians around. He has been taught to fight but has only gotten to use those skills on occasion, that was known at least. Secretly he’d sneak off to fight monsters who came near the Domain or the water ways that branched throughout Hyrule. The only person who didn’t do this is his father, he grieved for his daughter but he didn’t compare her and Sidon, he made sure to love and praise Sidon for his accomplishments, he actually liked it when Sidon snuck out with me to find Me or when he came to rescue me recalling his own reckless adventures as a prince, but he’s the king, he has so much to do. Sidon loves his people, and they love him too, but at a distance, because he’s not Mipha. The younger generations are more inclined to see him though. It was not a bad childhood, but it was straining at times.

Sidon told me that he actually sent out some guards to go out to search for a Hylian warrior because he’s not allowed to go out farther than Inogo Bridge. He only left because Bossa Nova got swept away by the current and he just had to go save his friend. Bossa Nova was to be kept in town, but he wandered off as usual and someone spotted him fall in the ferocious river. If Sidon had not been told, he likely would have stayed by that bridge, he only would have left if the situation had become absolutely dire.

Sidon feels he could do more for his people if he were allowed more freedom, and they all expanded their horizons and looked at the world beyond their canyon and waters. Others always came to them, rarely the other way around.

In Sidon’s room are trinkets from other places. He excitedly told me stories about each of the items. About the rock a Goron had given him, saying it was their favorite and a little guy like Sidon needed to eat great food to grow up big and strong. Some golden jewelry the Gerudo women gave Sidon after returning here from saving me, loving how excited he was happily traveling with them, and as thanks for fighting so well with them. Some sheet music Kass no longer needed since he memorized the songs long ago, they were songs Sidon was especially fond of because Sidon met Kass when he was practicing those songs. A stone frog from Kakariko Village as thanks for helping them when the town began to get flooded for a time. I would write everything, but I only have so many pages.

Sidon’s room is large and has a balcony. He has a large desk for paperwork where many of his items are placed. There’s this large pool in the middle. Zoras don’t sleep in beds often, they usually sleep in the water or pools like this. Sidon had many pillows, carpets and blankets from Gerudo Town. Sidon set them beside the pool as makeshift cushions.

It’s so strange to see Sidon without his silver pieces and the blue sash. They just seemed like a part of him I suppose, I’ve never seen him without them before.

As he was placing away his pieces, Sidon tripped over Bossa Nova who had wandered in as Sidon was showing me his items I suppose. He’s so quiet it seems neither of us noticed him. In Sidon’s room is also a work bench for chiseling and working with crystal. In the commotion Sidon had bumped into it knocking the items off it and I had to catch them before they fell into the water. Sidon panicked, screamed as he ripped the items from my hands and checked them. He shakily sighed and held my hands closely, thankful I didn’t catch the dagger by the blade.

The blade is white and serrated while the hilt is crystal. Sidon reminded me of when I told him of my time with Calisa, and all she had taught me about travel and survival. I only have large weapons so many things are difficult to work with without smaller tools. Smaller tools would be extremely useful for making fires, digging, cutting down branches, collecting bark, and many other things. Sidon decided to make a dagger for me out of his teeth. Bone is extremely strong so is should not break easily. Not only would it make for a good tool, but a weapon as well. Sidon worries that there may come a day where I’m in danger and he is unable to get to me in time, so I could at least have this, a part of him with me. He told me his affections for me runs deeper than I may even be able to even fathom. His heart belongs to his people, but to me as well.

The other item is like his sliver pieces, but bigger and longer. Sidon was also making a piece to protect my arm. It had the Zora’s crest, the three crescent shapes, but in the crescent shapes are sapphires and in the space between where the crescents touch is one of Sidon’s scales. He showed me how the gems could be taken out and have other gems placed in. At the bazaar I had taught him about what I had learned about gems and the powers they have. Sidon wanted me to be able to utilize their powers. This way I could use multiple gems powers at once or have multiple of one so the power could stack up, and with rubies, hopefully keep me warm in the Hebra Mountains where the Rito Village is till I could get some warm clothing from there. Sidon wanted to make something to protect my arm, though he was a little nervous that I’d be more reckless with my arm because it was protected and not try to shield it more.

The scale placed in armor to protect someone; this is rather culturally significant. Sidon had told his father and Muzu what he had been making for me, he started this one when he returned after saving me.

I asked Sidon if he could out right, out loud, say it.

Sidon told me that like writing down things, saying things out loud makes them more real, and I had so much on my mind already, he was worried about adding something else, about if this could stress me. I told him I would be okay. I just want to indulge myself and hear him say it first. Directly, not roundabout like we have been this whole time.

  Sidon thinks he’s in love me.

I think I’m in love with him too.

  The King and Muzu had questioned Sidon, but he told them he didn’t care if I didn’t return his feelings, he wanted to protect me from anywhere like Mipha with her armor and trident, Sidon would always come to my rescue should I need it, but in case he couldn’t get to me in time he still wanted to help even if he isn’t physically there.

It fits perfectly, I asked Sidon when he took my measurements. He got sheepish, telling me he just tried remembering how it feels to hold my arm.

I’m trying to keep writing, but all these feelings keep welling up and I almost feel like crying? But it doesn’t hurt? Like my chest is trembling, and my throat is getting choked up? I’m only directly writing this now, so I guess it’s only settling in now how real this is? Nothing has changed. We both knew we liked each other for a while now, only thing that’s changed is directly saying it. And now I can feel my heart pounding. Am I panicking? Am I just excited? I don’t know!

Sidon asked me if he could court me. Sidon was getting a bit flustered now, and he tried explaining what me meant, but just kept tripping over his words. He leaned in before abruptly stopping. He asked if he could kiss me.

Sidon’s teeth are still very sharp. When he parted he realized he cut my lip on accident and started panicking. I had to keep reassuring I was okay and reminded him just eating or sleeping would fix it.

And my heart is racing like when he tells me I’m adorable. Why must Sidon do this to me.

It was so late, Sidon told me I could leave if I wanted. I asked him if that’s what he wanted. He wanted me to stay. I wanted to stay as well.

Sidon tried staying up again. He apologized when he couldn’t keep his eyes open. I promised him I’d go to sleep with him when I was done writing, and now I’ll do just that.

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