#That word count for chapter one does make me kind of sad compared to the other two so I'd like to increase it

[astro-b-o-y-d]

I worry I'm not typing enough quickly enough but also this is my current word count for the prologue and the first two chapters

Those numbers will probably change by the time I start publishing, but UH. I think I'm doing fine, for how much I've written.

#Hayley Writes Triangulum #That word count for chapter one does make me kind of sad compared to the other two so I'd like to increase it #Do we understand why it's taking me this long to finish the fic???

[topguncortez]

Bad Medicine | Chapter 2

Previous Part | Masterlist | Next Part

word count: 5.4k

synopsis: A wealthy Italian mobster sets up his daughter to marry the head of one of the last remaining mafias in California. The union was supposed to create and heal the damage between two families, but all it does is cause more harm than good. MAJOR SLOW BURN (ENEMIES TO LOVERS)

WARNINGS: death/murder, guns, violence, physical abuse, cursing, mentions of prostitution, mentions of murder, grief, blood, nudity, mentions of drugs, mentions of a brothel

Y/N’s apartment looked over the upper East Side of New York. It was a cute little place that was within walking distance to the club. It gave her both things that she loved, the chaotic life that came with living in New York, and privacy to where she felt safe coming home at night. And that was partially because of Rueben, aka Payback, her bodyguard that Rafael had hired when she moved back to New York. That was part of Rafael’s deal in sending Y/N back to New York, she had to have a bodyguard. Y/N was smart though, and could figure out how to leave her bodyguards in the dust and jet off around the world, except Rueben could see right through that all. 

Y/N stood on the balcony, taking in her surroundings for the last time. She hadn’t stood out on the balcony in a long time. Good and bad memories filled her mind as she held her cup of tea close to her body for some warmth. Images of her relationship with Francisco filled her mind and sent a shiver down her spine. She also thought about all the good times she had while working at the club. Sure it wasn’t the best job she could ever have, but she loved the girls she worked with. She was probably going to miss them more than anything. 

“Y/N?” Gianni asked softly, “You ready?” 

Y/N and Rueben had spent the whole night packing. She looked over at the small carryon and purse sitting on her bed. She packed the essentials to make the trip over. Her brothers would be sending the rest of her clothing in the coming weeks. 

Y/N took a deep breath, she wanted to tell him no. She didn’t know a thing about Jake Seresin, to the internet it was like the man didn’t exist. She knew that he supposedly studied law at University of Texas, but never went past that. He took over for his father when he had a heart attack nearly two years ago. It was all fabricated bullshit about “Seresin Enterprises” and how they bought several blocks of casinos and clubs in both Vegas and San Diego. Apparently they had been on the FBI’s radar for sometime due to an underground boxing and prostitution ring. However, they claim no such truth about it. Which was something all mobsters said. 

“Y/N, we gotta get headed to the airport. The Don is mad we held it off this long,” Paulo said walking into her room. Y/N sighed and walked into the room, leaving the warmth of the morning sun, “You got what you need?” 

“Yeah, Payback took my bags to the car,” She answered and fixed herself in the mirror. She wore a simple skin tight black dress and paired it with matching black heels. Her tan skin looked sunkissed compared to the dark colors. She looked around at her barren apartment and frowned. She didn’t have a lot of stuff to begin with, but seeing it all boxed up made her feel kind of sad. Y/N nodded, and Gianni gently led her through the house and towards the waiting car. 

“Wait,” Y/N said, and turned to face her brother, “Have you heard from Sophie? I haven’t heard from her since she left for Greece and I know she’d want to be a part of this wedding bullshit.” 

Paulo looked at his two brothers, as if to tell them to keep their mouths shut. Narciso clenched his jaw and Gianni whistled, looking away from his little sister. 

“I have not heard from Sophie,” Paulo answered, “But I’ll make sure someone reaches out to her.” 

“She’d kill me if I got married and she wasn’t there for it,” Y/N smiled sadly and pulled her phone out, dialing the number again. Paulo ushered her into the car as Sophie’s phone went to voicemail again. Y/N sighed and left her yet another voicemail. 

When Y/N arrived at the small private airport she noticed the black SUVs and armed men that were standing around. She would try and make a break for it if it weren’t for the military style weapons ready to fire at any moment. One would think that the president or some diplomat was about to land, but in reality, it was just some man from Italy. Although the Santiagos had slowly defeated their enemies over the years, some still lurked in the shadows, waiting for the right moment to strike. 

The Don stepped out of his own vehicle when the Santiago siblings arrived. He looked pissed and Paulo fixed his suit as he walked over to talk to him. The patriarch stared his daughter down through the dark tinted glass of the SUV. She gulped and looked over at Payback who simply shrugged. He didn’t want to do this anymore than she wanted. 

“Do you want to make things easy?” Payback asked and Y/N nodded, “Don’t try and fight every little thing he says.” 

“You know me better than that Rueben,” Y/N smirked, and opened her car door. Her heels clicked across the ground as she walked up to her father. His stare sent a shiver down her spine, and it made her hold her head up higher, trying to show him that she was not afraid. 

“No funny business, Y/N. You get on the plane here and off in San Diego. I hear you made the pilot take you to England or Paris, I will cut off the expenses for the wedding,” Rafael threatened Y/N. The girl rolled her eyes, “We’ve set up for you to be married to Jacob in four weeks.” 

“Four fucking weeks?!” Y/N cursed and was met with another backhand across her face. 

“Watch your fucking mouth,” The Don yelled, “This is why you couldn’t find a husband on your own.” 

“Maybe if you would give me a damn chance!” Y/N yelled. 

“Why? So you could find someone else to murder someone in our family?!”

Y/N clenched her jaw and looked away from him. She had heard it almost every year since her mother’s death, Rafael never let her live it down. What happened to her mother was one of the worst things that Y/N and her family could’ve gone through, but no one knew that Francisco would turn his anger towards Marie. Her brothers forgave her for what happened, but Rafael still held it over her head. 

“Are none of you going to say anything!?” Y/N yelled at her brothers. They were all looking down at the ground, not bothering to jump in and say anything, “Spineless fucking idiots,” Y/N cursed and licked her lips, “I’ll see you in hell, Rafael.”

Rafael stood with his head up, his jaw clenched as he watched Y/N and Rueben walk up the plane steps. She sat down in a chair that was by the window. She watched as her brothers wouldn’t look at the plane, but the Don looked like he was ready to give an order to shoot it down. Y/N knew once the plane took off he would scold her brothers for telling her about Francisco, but the Don didn’t dare punish the boys in front of her or anyone else. People needed to know the boys were untouchable, but Y/N’s life was useless.

“Miss Santiago, can I get you anything to drink?” The flight attendant asked.

Y/N looked around the small jet and noted who the security was. There was, of course, Reuben and what looked to be like his new partner. Rafael hardly let Y/N go without two guards. The last one had been killed because the Don caught Y/N and him together. The new guy was all of 6 foot tall, with tan skin and a scar running down his face. His dark hair was gelled back and it looked like he had just bought a new black suit and dress shoes. Payback could see the glint in her eye and knew exactly what was going to happen next.

“Well, Rueben will have a Hangman IPA, I’ll take whatever red wine you have open, and a glass of whiskey for the Rookie,” Y/N smirked. Payback rolled his eyes, knowing Y/N’s plan like the back of his hand. This wasn’t the first flight he had taken with her and some new rookie, he had seen this episode before. 

“We can’t just have one plane ride where you leave the Rookies be?” Reuben asked, and Y/N just smiled, “You know what’ll happen.” 

“Then why not enjoy the fun while it lasts,” Y/N said as the flight attendant handed her the glass of wine, “Leave the bottle please, dear.”

“Laying it on thick,” Payback said, taking out his headphones. 

“My life has been signed away, Reuben. These are my last moments of freedom until I have to go wait on some mobster hand and foot,” Y/N said and Rueben frowned. He glanced outside the window to see that the black SUVs that carried her family were gone. 

“Fine,” He muttered, “Just know this one is on you.” 

“Of course,” Y/N nodded, her eyes going over to the Rookie who was seemingly confused. She just gave him a wink, and settled back in her chair as the pilot told them to prepare for take off. Y/N closed her eyes, she wasn’t ever a fan of planes taking off, she always felt like she was going to fall right out of the sky. 

Once the plane got up to cruising altitude, Y/N opened her eyes and looked at the Rookie, “Have you ever joined the Mile High club?” 

“N-no, ma’am,” He said. He had a thick country accent, making him out to probably be from the South. 

“Perfect,” Y/N smiled and stood up, taking his hand in hers and leading him to the private bedroom in the back of the plane. Payback groaned in annoyance, and pulled his earbuds out of his pocket. He settled them in his ears before going back to look through his magazine. 

“They never learn.”  

— — — ♱♱♱ — — — ♱♱♱ — — — 

When the plane finally touched down in San Diego, California, the skyline was already starting to light up. Y/N smiled, noticing the familiar sight of the skyscrapers in the distance. Rueben followed behind her, straightening out his suit, and looking at The Rookie behind him who had a smirk plastered on his face. He felt like the king of the world having bodied the princess of the Italian Mob. The Rookie fixed his suit jacket and ran a hand over his gelled back hair. 

“Good evening Miss Santiago, my name is Martin, and I’ll be handling your movement from the airport to the Seresin compound,” Martin was a middle aged man who had salt and pepper hair. Y/N held her hand out and Martin kissed the back of it. Y/N’s favorite pastime was making men bow to her like she was the Queen of England. In a way, Y/N was a queen, the mafia queen. If Y/N was into old men, Martin would be added as another name on her list.

“How was your flight? Everything went smoothly, I assume?” Martin asked, as he ushered Y/N towards the awaiting white Range Rover. Her father hated white cars. He said it made them stand out too much and put a bigger target on their backs. 

“Yes the flight went very well,” Y/N said, and glanced over her shoulder at the Rookie. He smirked to himself, and fixed his suit jacket. He felt like he was the king of the word having bagged the Italian Mob king’s daughter. But that feeling was short lived as Rueben tightened the silencer on his gun, and then fired a shot into the Rookie’s skull. 

“Clean this mess up,” Reuben said to the men standing by. Martin opened the door for Y/N, and she noticed a group of men picking up The Rookie’s body. She looked at Rueben who was tucking his gun back into the holster of his jacket. 

“What?” Reuben asked, and Y/N nodded her head towards the body, “I told you not to.” 

“Mood killer,” Y/N said and Rueben shook his head, shutting her door before getting into the front passenger seat. 

The Seresin mansion sat in the neighborhood of Mission Hills, which was about ten minutes outside of San Diego. Y/N had only visited a handful of cities in the US, and had only been to California once. She understood why mobsters picked quite poor towns to set up shop. The busy hustle and bustle of the nearby ports could mask the terrors that the mobs did. Y/N eyed the prostitutes as they hung around the street corners in downtown San Diego.  

“Those are someone's daughters,” Her mother used to say when they would pass a young female on the street in barely there clothing. Her mother would take them in, like stray cats, give them food and a place to bathe, before they would run off back to the streets they know.

“Everything is pretty close,” Martin explained as they drove through the busy streets, “It’s no European country side, but it suffices. Los Angeles is about two hours by car. San Fran is two hours by jet. Mr. Seresin has his own private jet. It’s one of the best ways to travel around. Sometimes, they’ll take a private train. Although, most of his work is done in Miramar or North Island.” 

She knew that from the google search that she did. Jake owned a flight club and a bar in North Island called the Hard Deck. It was a quaint little place that attracted a lot of sailors to the area. It also just so happened to be where his brothel was set up. If there was anything Navy men loved more than causing a fight, it was getting pussy after a long trip out to sea. 

“What is the legality of their business?” Y/N asked. 

Payback looked at her in the rearview mirror, “You know what they do.” 

“I can’t ask questions to get to know my future husband? I am going to be investing in this, so it is only fair that I know what he is doing.” She had a point and both Payback and Martin knew it. Y/N was smart and knew how to play her cards correctly, “Tell me what they do.” 

“Mr. Seresin’s grandfather set up a very vast trading company back in New York during the twenties. The Seresins own and control almost 50% of the US trading ports. Seresin Trades is working on going global with the help of Mr. Santiago. Mr. Bob Floyd has been fast at work creating Seresin Industries, one of the fastest startup technology companies,” Martin said. 

“A trading company,” Y/N tilted her head to the side, “How unique. And the brothels, fight rings, clubs, and casinos, those are just. . . extra amenities?” 

“Athena,” Reuben warned. 

Y/N held her hand up stopping Rueben, “Martin?”

Martin scoffed, “You act like your family is the greatest gift to God’s green earth.” As soon as the words left his lips, Martin regretted it.. Y/N glared at him through the rearview mirror and a cold sweat broke out down his back, “I apologize.” 

“A little too late,” Reuben said and Y/N smirked.  

If there was anyone who knew Y/N better than her own brothers, it was Rueben . He had become her personal bodyguard after Francisco attacked her and her mother’s death. Y/N had gotten too smart, she figured out how to run away from her guards. So Rafael hired Rueben , and the man watched her like a hawk. Y/N was never out of his sight. He had not only become her bodyguard, but also her closest confidant. She could tell him anything and everything. 

Martin’s knuckles turned white with his grip on the steering wheel, as he turned on to a magnificent compound. The black gates rolled back as the SUV drove onto the marble driveway that was lined with black lamp posts. Buried behind the trees was almost like a castle. The Kiszka house stood tall, at least 3 stories, and had a complete wall of windows. 

“Mr. Seresin likes windows. Makes him feel less caged in.” Martin said as he pulled up in front of the house. There was a large water fountain in the middle of the circle drive and Y/N could see water lilies floating around in the water. 

“Lovely,” Y/N said. When the car came to a stop, her door was opened. She reached her hand out and a guard gently grabbed her hand, helping her out of the car. She smoothed down her dress as Rueben  quickly rounded the car to her side, “Where is he?” 

“I believe they are at the club, or getting ready to go,” Martin responded. The glass front door opened and an older woman stepped out of the house. 

“Welcome Miss Santiago,” She introduced herself, and bowed her head softly,“I am Emile, I will be your personal attendant. Do you care for a glass of champagne, maybe even wine?” 

Y/N took a step into the house, and looked around the foyer. It had high ceilings that opened into a glass grand staircase. Everything was red and white, giving the entrance a cold yet warm feeling. The living room was open, and had white leather couches and a fluffy black rug on the floor. Hanging above a roaring fireplace was a picture of a young man in a black suit. She stood in front of the picture, the man’s green eyes were enticing and almost as if they were locking her in a trance. She looked away at the sound of the front door opening and Rueben walking in. 

“I’ll take a bottle of white,” Y/N said to Emile, “And please take the bottle to my room. Oh! And if you would, can you draw me a bath? I don’t like the feeling of blood on my hands.” 

Rueben scoffed, “You’re one to talk.” She could see a smudge of blood on his collar, more than likely from killing Martin before he walked into the house. 

“Yes, Miss,” Emile nodded and scurried off towards the kitchen. Y/N stepped farther into the house surveying everything. She walked over to a set of windows and glass sliding doors. She looked over the backyard, an infinity pool and giant garden that looked daunting at night, caught her eye. Y/N made a note of wanting to test the water in the pool at some point tonight.  

“He would like you to come to the office,” A guard said, standing in the doorway of the living room. 

Y/N turned around to see about ten or so men standing in the living room, all of them wearing black suits and ties. 

“No,” Y/N responded, a smirk on her lips. Her eyes not leaving the reflecting water of the pool, and kicked off her heels. She reached for the zipper of her dress and undid it. Payback also knew this tactic, and rolled his eyes. Y/N let the sleeves of her dress fall down her shoulders, and shrugged the dress off, wearing absolutely nothing underneath. All the men standing around her tried to avert their eyes the best they could, but failed miserably. 

“I want a bath first,” She said. 

“I can’t let you do that,” The guard responded. 

“Why not?” Y/N asked, stepping closer to him, “Do I turn you on?”

“I-I. . . Mr. Seresin  had strict instructions-” 

“I bet these pants are feeling pretty strict,” She let her hand shamelessly trail up and down his body, before landing over the clothed hard-on

“Please,” The guard practically begged. Y/N smirked as she gently palmed him, “You’re going to get me in trouble.” 

“What are you going to do about it?” Y/N challenged. Before the guard could respond another gunshot rang through the house. Y/N shrieked as the guard’s body buckled and she moved out of the way to let him fall. She looked over at a tall man with curly hair, holding a gun out.

“That’s what I’m gonna do about it,” The gun wielding man said. He tucked the gun back into the waistband of his black dress pants. He was tall with beautiful brown eyes with scars on his face and neck. Y/N smirked and walked over to him, but he held his hand out, “Don’t think about it. Let’s fucking go.” 

Y/N opened her mouth but squealed as he threw her naked body over his shoulder, “Hey! Put me down!” She yelled, hitting his back. The man tightened his grip on her body so he wouldn’t drop her as she kicked and squirmed in his arms, “Payback!” 

Reuben took a step forward to try and intervene but was cut off by guards standing in front of him, “Just keep your mouth shut!” 

Y/N felt a shiver run down her body, “I’ll fucking kill you,” She threatened the man. 

“I’d like to see you try,” The man said and tossed her down onto a cold leather chair, “Wait here, don’t fucking move.” 

Y/N looked around the office, seeing more pictures of the man from the living room. There was a bookshelf with tons of old leather books with gold writing. Y/N narrowed her eyes, reading the titles on the side, most of them were in Latin, but she could understand that they were law books. There was a large dark oak desk in front of her, which must belong to her future husband. On the wall behind the desk were various diplomas from colleges that he must’ve gone to. 

He’s distinguished, Y/N thought to herself, and smart. 

Y/N almost got out of her chair to go explore more things around his desk, when she heard the clicking of fancy dress shoes coming down the hall. She sucked in a breath as the door opened, and a beautiful blonde man with green eyes stood in the doorway. He was wearing all black, with his shirt rolled up to his elbows. He forewent the tie, and Y/N could see he was wearing a thin gold chain around his neck. 

“You couldn’t give her the dignity to walk in here by herself? With her clothes on?” The blonde man asked.

“She didn’t want to,” The man with the gun shrugged and looked over at a man who was wearing a big pair of glasses, with a smirk, “We lost Martin and Dominick.” 

“Fucking idiots,” The blonde cursed, “Welcome Y/N, I’m Jake, your new husband.” He held his arms out as if he were presenting some great prize. Y/N looked him up and down, he looked like the human version of Adonis, “My beauty stunned you into silence. It happens, sweetheart. But thank you for finally joining us.” 

Y/N scoffed, “You basically bought me from my father to help your little group here get up and running.” 

“Oh don’t flatter yourself sweetheart. You weren’t the pick of the crop I wanted,” Jake said, but then shrugged, “No offense.” 

“Offense taken,” Y/N said, “What? I’m not good enough for you? You prefer underaged prostitute pussy instead? I bet, he-” She said pointing at the man with large glasses, “Would you like a taste?” 

“Not my type either,” He said, “I like my pussy tight and silent.” 

Jake chuckled and Y/N clenched her jaw. He walked towards her, his green eyes looking her up and down as if he were examining her. She felt like she was under a microscope and wanted to hide away. She was suddenly very aware that she was sitting naked in front of three guys who could easily kill her, and had no idea where Rueben was. 

“Where are your clothes?” Jake asked. 

“I like being naked,” Y/N smirked, sitting back in the chair, exposing more of her body. Jake looked like he was about to murder everyone in the room. He looked from her face to her chest, his eyes seemingly assessing every millimeter of skin, down her stomach and to her legs, which were crossed hiding her modesty. Y/N caught the wandering eyes of the men behind Jake, and slowly uncrossed her legs, opening them slightly. That was the final straw for Jake, as he moved quickly, snatching her up by her chin.

“I was told I was getting a mafia queen,” Jake spat, holding her throat tightly, “We got rules, sweetheart, and you’re going to listen to them, got it? Or I swear to god, I’ll fucking sell you for whatever your worth to the highest bidder. I’m sure these-” He said, tracing his fingers between her breasts, his knuckles brushing against the soft mound of skin, “could get me a pretty penny. Of course, the face is a little fucked up.” 

Y/N clenched her jaw at the mention of the scar that ran down her face. Her eye socket had to be repaired and left a permanent scar, a constant reminder of what Francisco had done to her. It was easy for her to hide the other scars on her body, that one, was out in the open for everyone to see. Her mother told her to not hide what he did, to embrace it. 

“Understand me?” Jake asked and Y/N nodded. He released her chin. 

“Asshole,” Y/N said, before spitting in his face. Jake clenched his jaw, and grabbed her hair, yanking her head back to look up at him. 

“Don’t fucking test me, sweetheart,” Jake seethed, “I won’t hesitate to throw you down on the pew, I don’t give a fuck who your daddy is. Don’t fuck with me, doll.” Y/N trembled and nodded. Jake picked up her body and put her down on the wooden chair, harshly. Her ass still stung a bit from where the curly haired man had thrown her down earlier. 

“If you’re done being a brat, I’d like to introduce you to my right hand men. The one that brought you in here was Rooster, he’s in charge of security. You need to go somewhere, you take it up with him. If he tells you ‘no’ you don’t fucking argue. This is Bob,” Jake said, pointing to the man with the glasses, “He’s intelligence. Don’t try to fucking go somewhere or call someone or do something fucking stupid cause he’ll find out about it and I’ll kill you.”

“And what do you do?” Y/N asked. 

Jake smiled, “I’m the Hangman. I am the reason this whole place ruins and operates. The face of the family and the company.” 

“Bob would’ve made a cuter face,” Y/N said and looked at the man. Bob couldn’t help but chuckle, but Jake quickly shot him a glare. Y/N sent him a wink though, which made his ears turn red. 

Jake crossed his arms over his chest, “I’ve got a couple rules. One, don’t be in my way or anyone else's way. Two, don’t fucking speak to me unless you are spoken too. And three, don’t piss me off. If you follow those three rules. . . I don’t see why this relationship won’t work out great.” 

“Because you’re a fucking psychopathic murderer.” 

“Says the one who’s gotten three men killed in your first two hours of being here,” Jake said. 

Y/N smiled, “You say that?” 

Jake leaned his hands on either side of the chair she was sitting on. She could smell is cologne and see a thin scar by his eyebrow, “I see everything,” He spoke softly, “Go fucking clean yourself off. I don’t want to see your face until tomorrow.” Jake said and turned to walk out of the office, “Actually, I don’t want to see your face at all, unless I fucking ask to see you, which I probably won’t. I don’t want you here any less than you actually want to be here. If I knew you were a part of the expansion gun deal we made, I would’ve never fucking made it.”

Y/N tried to not let his words sting. She had heard worse from her father, but there was something about hearing it from someone else. Y/N turned her head to the side as Jake and the boys left the office with a slam of the door. As soon as the door shut, she let the tears roll down her face. She waited a minute before she got up from the wooden chair and walked out of the office. She was suddenly very aware that she was stark naked in a mobster’s house. 

She moved softly as she walked down the hallway, trying to avoid the eyes of the workers in the house. Y/N looked up and noticed Emile walking towards her with a robe. The older woman smiled softly at her and handed her the robe. Y/N nodded and wrapped it tightly around her body. Emile gently wrapped an arm around the girl’s shoulders, guiding her over to the grand staircase and up to the second floor. 

“Mr. Jacob and the boys went out for the night,” Emile said. She had a heavy french accent that reminded Y/N of some of the older maids back home at her father’s mansion, “I ran a bath and had some of the other guards bring your belongings into your room. Any specific way to put your clothing away?”

Y/N shook her head, “I can get that tomorrow when the rest of my things arrive. Thank you, Emile.” 

“You are very welcome, Miss,” Emile said, nodding her head as they stood outside one of the bedrooms, “The master bedroom,” Emile said, pushing open two wooden doors. Y/N’s jaw dropped at the sight of the bedroom. It was white with red accents that reminded her of the suit that Jake wore. Hanging above a california king bed was a picture of the fucker himself. Y/N scoffed, of course, he had a picture of himself hanging above the bed, “Mr. Jacob doesn’t stay here. He prefers a bed on the third floor with his brothers.” 

“They are all very close?” Y/N asked and Emile nodded. 

“Very close. They all served together in the Navy.” 

Now that was one thing the internet did not tell Y/N. That meant one of two things, they never served long enough to make an impact, or the Navy was trying hard to keep them all a secret. Whatever the reason was, Y/N was going to find out more about it. 

Y/N walked over and ran her hands on the satin bed sheets. They were soft and still smelled like the packaging. The room had an overall cold feeling to it, like no one had ever stayed in the room. Y/N could tell that the paint on the walls wasn’t the original colors. She could see the slight difference in paint colors as the walls met at the ceiling. She ran her hands over the footboard of the bed, humming to herself as she did. 

“Is that tune from ‘Annie’?” Emile asked, and Y/N lifted her head, smiling. 

“It is.” 

When Y/N was little, before she knew most about what her family did for a living, she used to play around like she was the little Orphan Annie first coming to Daddy Warbucks’ house. She used to play the song ‘I Think I’m Gonna Like it Here’ while running up and down the halls with her mother, making the butlers and the maids sing along with her. She did it at every house she moved into, it was one of the good memories she had with her mother. 

Y/N paused and looked at the picture above the bed, and then at Emile, “When will they be back?” 

“Oh, they stay out very late,” Emile answered, “I see them leave at night and stumble around the next morning with hangovers.” She smiled and sighed, “Your bath is waiting for you, dear. Any questions, don’t be scared to ask.” 

“Thank you.” “They aren’t all monsters,” Emile said, “Just a little rough around the edges. You know what they say, ‘only the good die young’.”

@cherrycola27 @seresinsbabe @violyn20 @materialgirl01 @bradleybeachbabe @a-reader-and-a-writer @lt-spork @topnerd03 @3in1shampooconditionerbodywash @bioodforbiood @topguncultleader @ma-fraise @abaker74 @double-j @cm27078 @thedroneranger @khaylin27 @mak-32 @unhinged-btch @wittywhispers @theliterarybeldam @bloosomjoon @chxcxlate-cxxkies @luckyladycreator2 @wellshit6 @harper1666 @phoenix1388 @footprintsinthesxnd @dempy @emma8895eb @bonitanightmxres @love2write2626 @bobbyonboard @some-lovely-day @thenewdaysalreadyhere @cassiemitchellslibrary @ilymoonie @morgensternsblog @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @rintheemolion @tallrock35 @adoringsebstan @xoxabs88xox

TAG LIST IS FULL DO NOT ASK TO BE TAGGED

if you want me to add the playlist link lmk!

#top gun #top gun fan fic #top gun fan fiction #top gun imagine #top gun au #top gun maverick #top gun maverick fan fic #top gun maverick fan fiction #top gun maverick imagine #top gun maverick au #Jake seresin #Jake seresin fan fic #Jake seresin fan fiction #Jake seresin imagine #Jake seresin au #Jake seresin x reader #Jake seresin x y/n #Jake seresin x you #hangman #hangman seresin #Bradley rooster Bradshaw #rooster bradshaw #rooster #Robert bob floyd #bob Floyd #bob #rueben payback fitch #payback fitch #payback #natasha trace

[smolghostbot]

Patchwork Melody Snippet: Observations

I still haven't really had the writing brain cell, but I have had the editing brain cell and have actually been making decent progress on my silly little blorbo's first meeting story. And I figured, "Sure, it's been a hot minute since I posted writing" so... here's a very small snippet of the absolute first chapter of the story when Patch and Melody are first observing the oddities that are each other, pretty much just a physical description of each of them plus some size comparison for funsies.

Word Count: 500ish Character bios in my pinned post

CW for G/t First Meeting-typical accidental dehumanization, and mentally using it pronouns for a character who does not use them.

======

"Hey, don't be afraid, I don't want to hurt you, just know what you are," said the human. At least, the terrified sprite thought the being was a human. It had the height and weird rounded ears, but its eyes were a bright red, and its hair seemed to be a greenish… blueish… a color that human hair is not, at least as far as they knew.

Even aside from their hair and eyes, the human was definitely an odd-looking one, being rather tall and lanky, even by the standards of humans. They were wearing a simple gray shirt, with some sort of figure on the shirt that the sprite couldn't recognize, and a denim jacket with matching pants. Their face, staring in wonder, was somewhat pale, with a light dusting of freckles that matched the sprite's own. Their face was outlined by a fairly chiseled jaw, more so than most female humans the sprite had seen before. Round glasses were perched on their nose, causing an odd distortion on the giant creature's eyes from the sprite’s perspective. The human was staring them dead in the eyes and leaning down even closer, before they spoke again, their voice a soft whisper, as if afraid to hurt the sprite's ears.

"Hello? I'm guessing you're either ignoring me or can't understand me. I promise I mean you no harm, little cutie. I just want to get a closer look at you real quick... I'll let you go on your way in just a moment…"

-

Melody bent down to lift the adorable tiny thing, to investigate it more closely, and immediately noted just how small it was. Held within her loose fist, the tiny thing's squirming legs didn't even reach her pinky finger. Her comparatively massive red eyes, the result of her decorative contacts, gazed at the tiny creature with fascination, watching it flail about in her hand with a raw curiosity. Despite putting almost no pressure into her grip, afraid of hurting this small creature, she couldn't even feel the struggles of the little thing. Now that it was closer and (slightly) more still, she was able to get a more detailed look at its features. Its skin had a grayish pallor that Melody wasn't sure was natural for whatever it was. Its eyes were a vibrant purple, offset by the duller purple of the bags under them. Purple eyes would help the theory that it has magic… maybe. Aside from the backpack, which she now noticed was denim, it seemed to be wearing a loose-fitting brown cloak or tunic of some sort, with one shoulder exposed, and a small green scarf around its neck, both made out of some kind of fine fabric. Definitely not silk, but not any fabric she recognized. The scarf was a bit odd, given the spring weather, but maybe its body is supposed to be as cold as it felt in her hand. Something cold-blooded? Layers would make sense, then.

The creature's squirming slowed down, as it seemed to realize the futility of its motions. Its long ears drooped down in a clear display of sadness, and its vibrant purple eyes closed. Melody attempted once more to communicate with this tiny thing in her hand.

"Are you done, little cutie? No more thrashing around? If I let go, do you promise to not try to, like, jump or anything? You would probably hurt yourself falling from this height."

#i've described early mel as 'treating patch like somebody would treat an interesting ladybug'. and i have such fun writing with that energy. #mel's not malicious or anything just a (literal) massive thembo with personal space issues. #also no. patch is not cold blooded they are just extremely healthn't right now #g/t #giant/tiny #g/t writing #g/t fearplay #g/t ocs #oc tag: patch #oc tag: mel #patchwork melody

[yearningandpatheticaboutit]

SPEAK FOR YOURSELF

CHAPTER 7: WHAT ARE YOU SO AFRAID OF?

warnings: flashback, death mention, drugs mention, idk anymore let me know if you think i should add more

prev chapter

next chapter

word count: 4442

A/N: Sorry for the long wait guys i just started my 2nd semester of uni and life has been ROUGH but aye here's the new chapter :D

***

Yaera

scratchy skin. i run my nails over it till brown becomes red and im bleeding all over my pyjammas. it doesn't hurt. not as much as i do.

surrounded by darkness, bawling my eyes out in silence. it feels like im paralysed, like i can't breathe. like its a chore to be alive.

"yaera?" a soft voice calls me. i know its not her. my heart wishes it was.

my mind tricks me. i feel her get onto my bed and put her warm hands over my open wound. it feels like a bandage, like im being healed but i know its not real.

it isnt real.

the soft pale light turns on beside my bed and i see her face. her deep brown doe eyes gentle with sadness. my sobs choke in my throat, threatening to go louder. i cant.

"im here, don't worry," she tells me and rubs my face. "he wont hurt you anymore."

"why'd it have to be you?" i ask her. "i wish it was me instead."

she frowns how i imagine she would if she were here. "dont say that. youre making me feel guilty."

"i cant do this, yasmine. i cant. no one here is you. they dont know me the way you do. i dont know if i can go on anymore."

"you have to," she sadly smiles. "im still here."

but she wasnt. and it was hard to accept that.

there are people in this world who you can show your worst self, your best self, and the your most vulnerable self. the self that cries when feeling any kind of emotion. the kind who feels overwhelmed all the time.

yasmine was my person. shes gone now.

but my brain wont let me forget it. it wont let me forget anything.

"what the heck, whats wrong?" she asked when she found me sobbing into my knees under my window pane. she bent down next to me, immediately pulling my head onto her shoulder.

she wouldnt get it. i couldnt explain it. the way he kept making me feel powerless in a house full of people. so alone. so afraid. the touches started off like nothing, a fleeting thought, it was easy to brush off.

not anymore.

"c'mon, yae. you can tell me. was jongho mean to you again?" she asked innocently. cluelessly. "i will speak to him for real this time. he always thinks being mean as a joke is cute but–"

i wanted to tell her. maybe i should have. i told her everything. why couldnt i tell her? she was all i had. i should have told her.

"Mr and Mrs Marino. We need you to come in to the police station. A body was found–"

***

San

Y: I can't make it for lunch today, sorry. I'll just come by to let you know the news.

I adjust my glasses as I eye the message and the time on my screen. I can barely read it because of the cracks but end up getting the gist of it.

I sigh and close my chemistry notes. I guess she's done with her shoot then. Woo is passed out on my bed, for some reason the asshole decided to stay here.

What am I going to do with him here? I guess I'll have to talk to her outside. It doesn't sound like she'll stay long anyway.

At four thirty in the afternoon Yaera knocks on my door. I make sure to squeeze through the gap when I open the door, closing it behind me quickly so she doesn't see inside.

She gives me a suspicious look but doesn't say anything. She looks different. Maybe its the dark red curls that are spilling down her back that look so out of place compared to the thick hoodie and pants she's wearing.

"Hey," she greets, sounding off. "I won't be sleeping over, don't worry. I just came to say today went well."

Went well? It sounds like she'd rather be anywhere but here.

"I gave the pills out to three of my model friends. If all goes well, they'll want more by this weekend. I told them to give me a call."

"What if this doesn't work?" I ask skeptically. After all, models doing drugs so freely can't be a good thing.

"It will," she assures me, too sure. "And if it doesn't, I always have a back up plan."

She always has everything so figured out, doesn't she? I can't help but be wary of her. There's something about people like Yaera. People who act so calm and nonchalant about doing and going through problematic things. They're usually ticking time bombs on the inside.

"I want to talk about money," she says suddenly. "I know I said twenty percent but I need thirty."

I widen my eyes. No way she's asking for that much. "Thirty? What?"

She narrows her eyes, completely on edge. "What? Do you have a problem with that?"

"I'm just trying to figure out where this is coming from. What makes you think you're entitled to 30%? I know you gave me all your savings but—"

"Fine!" She bursts out, making me drop silent. "Do you want more then? I can get you more money. I can pay off how much you owe, how much that Yunho guy owes–it doesn't fucking matter to me. I just need to leave here. I need to get the fuck out."

Something happened. Her voice tells me all. Its full of anger, desperation and frustration. She's looking at me like she wants to kill me but at the same time her eyes are glossy.

I might be an anti-social loser but I can tell when someone's about to cry.

"Can you fucking answer me?" She tightly asks.

"Did your parents say something to you? Is that why you're so out of it?" I ask warily. Wrong move, San. Completely dumb fucking move.

She laughs, its a bitter, miserable laugh that leaves me more confused. Its the exact same one from before, when she figured out I knew about her dead sister.

"Don't ask me stupid questions like you're my therapist or something," she snaps at me. "And I am not out of it. You're just refusing to be straight up with me."

"You're not out of it? Then why are you acting defensive?" I snap back. "Be honest with me on why I should give you more money. Its so obvious this is more than getting away from your family. You're running from something."

My temper is at bay because I can clearly tell something's wrong, but I know she's dodging me. Her eyes start tearing and it immediately makes me feel terrible but I can't help it. She's not being honest.

"I'll help you, Yaera. Just be honest with me. What are you so afraid of?"

"Fuck you!" She shouts through her sobs, shoving me in the chest. "Fuck you, Choi San. Why the fuck should I explain myself to you when I don't even know why you're selling drugs or in a gang? Huh? Why the fuck should I be honest? Go to Hell."

Anyone who sees us will assume we're going through an awful break up. Yaera's entire face is red and drenched with tears and I'm standing without a clue of what's going on or what to do. She gives me a sarcastic look when I fail to answer her.

She sniffles, trying to collect herself as she shakes her head. "That's what I thought. Fuck this."

Yaera leaves down the hall and doesn't look back at me once, and I'm not sure what it means at all. All I know is something is wrong. Is it the memories of her sister? Her parents? I don't know.

I try not to think about it for the rest of the day, but fail miserably.

***

Yaera

For the rest of the weekend, San tries to reach me. I'm an asshole, I watch as his messages come and go, each one getting deleted after each other. I don't think he's tech savvy enough to know I can still see the receipt after they're deleted.

A small part of me is happy, even a little girlish to think that San, in our hot and cold dynamic, has decided to pull the rope and chase me. The more sane, rational part of me is embarrassed.

So, so embarrassed.

The sickening feeling doesn't leave me all weekend. It grows with every day that passes, because I know I've made San confused and feel like shit. He doesn't know why I freaked out, why I ignored him and I don't know if I'll ever be able to get the words out.

I'm too fucking scared.

The thought of it alone leaves me feeling cold and isolated from everyone else, knowing no one around would understand, or care. The awful fear of feeling like a cornered animal, so unprotected, so lost and wanting to rip off my own skin because it feels tainted.

How do I say that to a guy I'm blackmailing for money? Someone who has a horde of problems of his own. My brain has been feeding me awful scenarios all weekend. Its part of the reason I can't face San.

With every day that passes, Saturday grows closer. My parents are running around organizing fits and lifts for the gala, where their collection will be showcased before it hits the market. I'm nauseous knowing that I won't be able to get out of it. Why?

1. Because I gave San my word I would sell his drugs.

2. Because I'm being shown off at this stupid event.

3. Because Santo will be there, waiting.

I thought of lying about contracting a virus. I even hoped San would message me Sunday night saying there would be more thugs to deal with. I hoped that we'd go out and that I'd get stabbed, end up in the hospital and have to miss that gala entirely.

I try coming up with solutions to dull the utter sense of panic in my bones. Most people don't know how far I'll go to escape my fears. I'm very good at being a coward.

My brain tells me, maybe if I don't show up enough, just maybe Santo will drop me and my parents will disown me. Maybe if I cling to my father all night, Santo won't get the chance to corner me. But knowing my family, they'll have no problem throwing me to the wolves.

When Monday rolls around, I'm in the parking lot against a wall waiting for San to come but he never does. No one comes by, the parking lot is empty that morning and I am all alone.

I look at San's chat on my phone and feel like sobbing. I'm so pathetic really. I don't know why I'm such a loser. Why am I so emotional all of a sudden about apologizing. Its not like we're dating. 

I'm so embarrassed by all I said that I texted him good luck on his test today and he read it with no reply. Karma, I think. I ignored him all weekend and he's just returning the favour.

This is ruining my life. I shouldn't care, right? All I should care about is my money and running away. I shouldn't care about fixing things with a guy I barely know.

What if Santo leaves me alone because I'm with San?

That thought is dangerous. Not only that, it bothers me all morning because of its openness. There's only two ways he can react.

Santo can back off when he realizes I'm with someone my own age and not interested in getting groomed OR he can get super possessive and probably get San thrown in jail for some obscure and non real reason.

But the chance he could leave me alone forever is enough for me to hang onto hope. I'm on my way to biology with this hope in my heart, hoping I'll see San and he won't look at me like I'm some ugly bug.

Unfortunately when I get to biology, Mrs Evans gives me a tight smile. "Miss Marino, how delighted to actually have you in class today."

I completely forgot about her. And it seems like she's aware I skipped her period last week. "Uh, good morning ma'am," I greet awkwardly.

Quick. Think of a good lie.

"You know Miss Ella is back in school, right? I'm sure you don't want to see her so soon again," she says to me, vaguely threatening as she eyes my hair. "I should send you there for your unnatural hair colour, but I'll let it slide if you tell me you've made the effort to get a tutor."

"I..."

I sigh. Another thing I completely forgot about. I need to care about school if I want to graduate, but my life is so shit right now its taking everything out of me to not shower with a toaster.

"Mrs Evans?" A voice speaks. I feel my stomach flutter. I look behind me and San is standing there.

He's looking right at me with that unreadable, dark and mellow expression on his handsome yet cold face. He looks so pretty with his long hair and glasses, but my admiration hits an abrupt block when he looks away suddenly, no warmth present on his face.

"Yes, San?" Mrs Evans voice automatically softens. He must have that effect on everyone.

"Yaera and I came to an agreement. I will tutor her."

I can't think straight. What is he doing? I can never tell what he's thinking.

"Oh," even Mrs Evans is surprised. "Uh well, I'm happy you changed your mind. Hopefully Yaera can actually listen to you."

I sit through class without a single coherent thought in my brain. I sneak looks at San, thinking of what to say to him once we get time alone. I should apologize for losing it. I was weak, I nearly crumbled infront of him.

It can't happen again. It just can't.

So when class ends, I plan to go after him. San leaves first, showing no signs of waiting for me. He goes to the abandoned stairwell as per usual, and I'm about to make my presence known but stop when I hear his pissed off tone.

"Woo, I fucking told you don't call me at school, you asshole," San turns into Count Dracula and hisses into the speaker. "No you don't get it, you dropped out, I didn't."

"I told you I have a test today!"

"No, I'll be writing it during school hours. You don't have to pick me up from school, I'll meet you at my apartment."

His voice significantly quiets down, and by now I know he's not talking to a relative. At least not his close family.

Actually, San doesn't strike me as the type to talk to any member of his family like that at all. Which means this is obviously 105ths related.

"No, Woo, don't bring a fucking gun do you want those people to kill us?!" San groans as softly as he can.

So San is definetely going somewhere after school today. Which means I'm going somewhere. Great.

"I'm telling you it's a bad idea! We just need to knock out that asshole and go. Do you want this shit to turn into a shootout? Get real."

San hangs up and roughly tosses his bag to the ground, I hear the harsh landing from around the wall. I decide to wait a few minutes before building up the courage to show myself.

His handsome yet scowling face drops when he sees me, his expression awkward and taken aback.

"Hey," I break the ice. "I just wanted to say thanks."

"For?" He sounds genuinely clueless. Is his memory that bad?

"For covering for me. In Bio."

"I wasn't covering. I figured I could use the extra credit," he says, slightly cold. "So just say when you're available and I'll bring my books."

I'm dumbstruck. San is actually going to tutor me. If I'm already struggling to focus I wonder how hard I'm going to fight now.

"Oh, okay," I say dumbly. I can barely meet his eyes after Saturday. I hear my own cracking voice screaming at him between tears and it makes me cringe.

"I'm sorry," I say with difficulty. "For what happened on Saturday...it was uncalled for. I wasn't myself. So yeah, sorry."

San is quiet, looking at me like he's reading a book he doesn't understand.

He nods. "Okay. Can you explain what happened?"

I blink dumbly. "What?"

"Tell me why you freaked out and showed up to my place on edge. What happened at that shoot?"

My skin heats up and I feel like scratching. I struggle to hold his gaze and its embarrassing. He wasnt supposed to question me. Hes not following the script I wrote up in my head.

"I..."

"I can still give you the money," he tells me. "If you really need thirty percent, I'll give it to you. It cuts our deal shorter. You'll be able to get your money faster and this partnership won't have to last all year. But just tell me why."

I'm vaguely annoyed that I'm being pushed and still Ive received nothing. I know I barely know San for a week, but why am I the only one having to be honest here?

Crumbs, my brain suggests. I should give him crumbs, then he wont bother next time.

"I had a bad day," I admit with difficulty. Fucking understatement. "My parents and...everything. It was overwhelming for me. My sister used to do this, and she was a natural. And now that I do it...it feels like I'm being forced to take her place."

"Is that all?" San asks suspiciously, as if he knows I'm holding something back. Fuck, hes so smart I hate him.

Time to make him regret asking at all.

"I had a panic attack," I continue. "Lots of people dont know this, but my parents are awful people. They made my sister do inappropriate shoots when she was just a kid. Then when she died they did the same thing to me. Lingerie, fucking weird ass outfits that didnt belong on the body of a sixteen year old girl.

"It was never a problem back then because all the shoots are published now. All the pictures my parents post of me are two years old. They still make me do weird shit, but I'm not a minor now, so its okay, I guess. I know it doesnt sound like a big deal, but I really hate being forced to show my body and its just...very...it makes me..."

I dont finish because I find myself getting genuinely upset. I take a deep breath and look at the ground, swallowing hard. This fucking sucks, San is pitying me in his head, I can feel it.

"You didnt deserve that," he says quietly. "You should be running then."

He doesnt know the half of it. But a part of me is happy Im hearing those words. And from a man who appears like he cares about nothing. Maybe hes not that bad.

"Thanks for understanding. Can we talk about you now?"

San nods. This is weird. We're being civil.

"What happened after you visited your boss? What did she say?"

"Uh...mmmm."

San shrugs and crosses his arms. "Uh, she didnt say much. We dont have to worry about it. Its out of my hands."

"What?" I frown. It didnt sound like that on the phone at all. "So she really let you off?"

San nods with his lips in a firm line. This bastard is lying to me.

Really? After everything? I hide my volatile feelings with a soft hum.

"That's crazy. How are they letting you off so easily for losing 7k and yet they made you eat a cigarette for not delivering 10?" I question.

San shrugs again, not doing a good job at covering for himself. But why is he lying. After our last conversation I thought he'd know better.

"I guess Yunho is taken care of then. I can't say for sure."

"Do you have plans tonight then?" I test. "I think we should have a tutoring session at your place."

San grimaces. Go ahead, asshole. Lie through your teeth.

"I can't actually. I have to go somewhere. It's not gang related."

"Oh really? Is it family related then?"

"I don't have to tell you that," San shoots me down ungracefully, if I was shocked I would gasp.

I just told him why I need more money, and he responds like this. I want to laugh so hard. He's such a hypocrite.

"That came out the wrong way," he sighs when he sees my face. "Yes, it is family related. I have to do something with my cousin, that's all. I can come by tomorrow though."

I force a smile. "No, don't worry about it. Good luck with your family."

I walk away to hide my fuming. San has chosen to lie to me, its evident. He's going to help his 'cousin' who suspiciously has a gun. He must think I'm a fucking moron.

I wonder what his rationale is this time. Either way, it's going to piss me off. Shit, I'm already pissed. Because clearly he doesn't respect or take me seriously. It's like everytime I think I'm breaking through a layer with him, he brings up a worse, even more piece of shit layer.

And he's unashamed about it either. I just know when I confront him about lying, he'll be the most angry person. But I don't care, I'll be ready then. I didn't give him my fucking savings just for him to leave me out of the loop and toss me aside with a shitty lie.

When lunch rolls around, I'm on my way to the stairwell when I'm nearly knocked over by the horde of soccer players just forcing themselves through the halls. They have to move like a herd for some reason and trample everyone in their path. I'm forced against the lockers on the floor, my eyes widening when I spot  a brand new pair of expensive Nike soccer boots on one of our star players.

I smile to myself, watching his blonde head of hair disappear around the hallway. I bet those shoes must have costed a fortune. It probably sells well too.

My temptations are halted for the time being. I do need money, month end is two weeks away and San isn't showing signs of being a very cooperative partner. If he's hiding things from me, I might as well hold onto my methods of self-preservation.

***

The day ends and I see San sneaking through the parking lot this time. He doesn't know I'm watching him, but he definitely knows he's being watched. The paranoid asshole tosses suspicious glances over his shoulder every five seconds as he leaves the driveway.

My parents pick me up as usual, though this time my father is a lone ranger. We barely talk as expected, he asks me what I did in school, I tell him "the usual" and we move on with The Beatles blasting in the car.

"Where's mom?" I ask when we get home, noting the very peaceful silence is something out of the ordinary.

"Your mother is at one of the boutiques doing checks and balances," my father blandly responds, walking up the stairs. "I'm going to take a nap. There are bread rolls in the fridge."

I smirk to myself,  that means I don't even have to lie. My opening is wide enough. I immediately go up to my room and slide out of my school uniform, putting on rather... inconspicuous clothes.

A black hoodie and navy sweatpants with shoes fit to run in. I'm thinking of a weapon to carry with me, but all I have is a tiny pocket knife. Hopefully I don't have to use it.

I check my phone and roll my eyes when I see his name in my notification bar.

Sannie~: Sorry, I only saw this message now. Thanks 

You... asshole. You know I can see when I'm being left on read, right? I almost want to say it but I take a deep breath. You are not crazy. Don't act crazy. It doesn't matter if he's only responding to my good luck message only now.

I scowl and type a message back.

me: Hope everything with your cousin goes well.

San immediately reads it, and he types back for a long while. The message never comes through because he stops. Yeah, can't come up with more lies, can you?

I tighten the strings of my hoodie and get out of my house, catching the bus to his apartment.

This is the only way to see who he actually is. I've discovered him before by following him once, and then I found out the truth. Now I'm going to find out why exactly he lied to me, since healthy communication is clearly not on the table.

I don't plan on going inside, instead I find a spot nearby and just wait for him to leave. I know he's going somewhere, there was a mention of guns and some person named Woo, so I suppose he's the partner for tonight.

For about five minutes, nothing happens. I keep checking my phone and San's online status is inconsistent. He comes on every few seconds, probably checking for any updates from this person. When the sixth minute hits, a black Ford transit van rolls up infront of San's apartment building.

The windows are tinted, so I miss whoever's in the driver seat. San comes down a few minutes later, dressed in a classic hostile outfit. He has a mask over the bottom half of his face and pulls open the door of the van... and of course, he has his crowbar in hand.

I catch a glimpse of the inside of the van before San violently slams the door shut. It's empty. Just before they drive off, I end up stopping a cab by sliding over the bonnet. The driver stares at me like I'm insane, about to shout obscenities but I toss a 300 bill his way and slide in the back.

"You see that van? I need you to follow it," I order. The van is halfway down the road when the driver steps on the gas and we push forward.

#ateez angst #ateez imagines #choi san angst #ateez fanfic #ateez fic #ateez scenarios #choi san #choi san fluff #san angst #gang au #ateez ot8

[dei2dei]

Leaving Comments: Some Ideas

I suck a leaving them! I want to leave more! What do I doooo!?!

A lot of us have this struggle. Leaving comments is as hard—maybe sometimes harder!—than writing a story. You might not know how to word the feels the fic made you have, or be able to identify craft components, or “leave something worthwhile” if you think the story was fantastic. Hint: any comment is worthwhile, even if it’s a heart emoji! ❤️

If you’re struggling, here are ideas for things to comment on. I’ve tried to keep all of this fandom-blind friendly, especially since I know one source of stress is leaving comments for comment/review exchanges. 

Are character voices distinct? If you’re not fandom blind, can you identify character voices that are preserved from canon? What about them really says “this is CHARACTER”?

I love your voice for A! It’s a really distinct voice and vocabulary compared to B.  / You have a great handle on C’s voice, and it’s like I’m reading a page straight out of the manga. 

Can you identify motivations? Do you get invested in the characters? Are you interested in seeing what they do next? 

It’s easy to see why X throws himself so completely into this and is trying to hunt down the person who stole his ice cream cone. He seems really hot-tempered so I can’t wait to find out how he interacts with the thief!

How is the language - is it lyrical and flowery, is it succinct and terse? Does that help the story at all? 

Your language is just like reading a fairytale, and that makes the story really immersive. Since you’re writing about fairies and the Fae realm, this is PERFECT.

Is there conflict of some kind (big or small) that interests you? 

I have no idea why A & B hate each other so much but I can’t wait to find out!

What do you think of the climax/resolution? Is the end satisfying? Do you want more?

What kind of POV did they use, and how did it help you get into the story? 

Was the pacing great? Were you breathless and just had to keep clicking to find out what happened next? Was it so slow you were totally immersed in the world and sad when you were finished?

Is the writer great with banter? With sensory details? Are their fight sequences amazeballs? Are the setting descriptions out of this world? TELL THEM THAT!

Make guesses about what happens next! 

Call out lines you liked and what they signify or imply to you. Or if they straight-up made you laugh or cry or have other emotional reactions!

Did the author use any new words you’re going to add to your writing/vocabulary?

Was there worldbuilding you loved, or any tiny little details or phrases that you appreciated?

Did you keep reading through (just one more chapter!), did you skip work/stay up late/miss a class to keep reading? The author will keep your secret. ;) 

Keyboard smashes and emojis are valid comments!

If this is an author whose work you read regularly and enjoy (even if you’re a first time commenter), you can tell them that. 

I’ve read everything in ABC series but I’ve been too nervous to comment before. I really enjoyed this story, thank you for writing and sharing it!

You never have to justify the quantity or quality of your comments to anyone*. You can leave as succinct a comment as a heart or smiley face, or as long and in-depth as you’d like. Sometimes all I have the headspace for is a “this was great, count this as a chapter kudos” comment, and the authors I have left that for have been appreciative!

*unless you’re doing an exchange where you need a minimum wordcount, but hopefully these ideas will help you get there!

You don’t have to feel bad about leaving multiple comments in a row or on an old work. There are authors who are over the moon (like me!) when someone does a deep dive and comments on an old piece, or who binges a series, or leaves comments on every chapter. We love you. Sometimes one comment on an unfinished piece can be the impetus for an author to write more.

For more resources…

The Long Live Feedback Project has a comment builder! You can copy the spreadsheet and use drop-downs to pick choices of varying complexity depending on your spoon level, and then paste it all into the comment box at the end! https://longlivefeedback.tumblr.com/commentbuilder 

For AO3 users, there are a few userscripts out there for floating review boxes which allow you to highlight pieces of the story and comment as you go.

https://ravenel.tumblr.com/post/156555172141/i-saw-this-post-by-astropixie-about-how-itd-be [this link includes a how-to for FFN!]

#comments #commenting is hard #fanfiction #fanfic comments #writeblr #fanficbl #maybe some of these ideas will help

[chateautae]

maybe i do | kth. II

➵ summary :  maybe you love each other, maybe you don’t. when a deal between your fathers leaves you forcefully wedding kim taehyung, arguably seoul’s most powerful CEO, you’re prepared for a loveless marriage of eternal regret and unhappiness. but maybe, it doesn’t turn out that way after all.

↳  part of the high-class series!

➵ pairing : taehyung x reader

➵ genre :  arranged marriage!au, ceo!tae, s2l!au, eventual smut, fluff, angst

➵ rating : 18+

➵ word count : 10k

➵ warnings : none really, swearing, mainly fluffy and funny interactions, some angst! :o 

➵ a/n: and i’m back with chapter two! i really wanted to say thank you for the love and support i received on the first part of maybe i do, it was astounding!! i’m so grateful so many people loved the story and asked to be tagged (all at the bottom <3), it made me feel so motivated to write. if you would also like to be tagged please message me. your feedback is always appreciated! 

chapter two : “on my pillow, can’t get me tired” 

prev. ↞ || ↠ next  || masterlist

Taehyung didn’t remember sleeping anywhere near you last night. 

He remembered that even though you willingly agreed to share the same bed, he still opted for caution and slept with the most space between you two as possible.

Though when his eyes fluttered open the next morning, eyeballs burning from the light that bled into the suite, the first thing he realized was that he was not on his side of the bed from last night. 

No, he had somehow gravitated towards the center, and as if almost on cue, your slight movement and the sound of your breathing alerted him of your nearby presence. 

Peering down at you, Taehyung caught sight of your sleepy head turned towards him and lying on his arm, his other thrown over your torso with you unsuspectingly nuzzled into his side.

Taehyung’s eyes shot open, acknowledging he had succumbed to his habit of hugging something to sleep during the course of the night and he internally panicked. He began retracting his arms slowly, just about drawing himself from you until alarms rang in his head at the sight of you stirring in your sleep. 

Taehyung took the golden opportunity to sit up in a flash, having to physically shake his head to rid the image of your tranquil, sleeping face from his brain, crushing the thought that it was kind of cute.

He found himself chanting the same denial from last night, he couldn’t be thinking of such complicated things concerning you when he knew the second he’d step foot inside his home, there’d be a mountain of paperwork ready for him; even more on his work desk.

He had to be thinking about his job, not you.  

Even if Taehyung was married now, it wouldn’t lessen the amount of work that plagued his life nor make it any less demanding. If anything, his life would be harder now considering the fact that he had another priority to add to his list, another aspect of his life he had to split his attention between. 

He didn’t necessarily hate the idea, just found himself needing to work harder than he already was. 

Taehyung sighed heavily at the thought and swung his legs off the bed, rubbing his tired eyes. He took a moment to look back at you, thinking if he observed you a second time he’d be able to piece together how the hell you two ended up in that position, that close. 

By evidence of the forgotten blanket half-thrown off you, he could see you were the tossing-and-turning type, maybe the only explanation for your proximity considering he was the same. 

He also noticed you slept all curled up, like you were cold and the only warmth you knew was snuggling yourself.

Cute.

There it was again, cute. 

Why does that word even exist? 

Taehyung discarded the notion altogether and stood to his feet, stretching out his stiff muscles. He made for the bathroom eagerly to begin his day, though not without fixing at least some of the blanket back onto you. 

“You don’t have a driver?” 

“Not for everywhere I go. I have two hands, I can drive myself.” Taehyung made it a statement to jazz hands at you, showcasing the perfectly capable limbs he was gifted with.

“That’s.. nice, actually. I always see asshole CEO’s getting other people to drive them around.” You relayed as you trailed behind Taehyung, letting him lead you towards the front of the hotel where dozens of expensive cars lined the curb side.

You had no clue which luxury vehicle belonged to Taehyung because quite frankly, he could probably afford every car your eyes caught sight of. It wasn’t until he approached a certain one and retrieved his keys from the valet that your jaw completely dropped, floored.

“This is your car?” You gawked, the sleek design, crispness of its shape and nearly sparkling gloss completely sweeping you off your feet.

“Yeah, think someone like me can’t get a car like this?” Taehyung cocked an eyebrow, gesturing towards himself.   

“It’s just-wow. Mercedes CLS?” You inquired without really looking at him, inspecting the car instead as you admired its every curve. Safe to say, you were beyond in love with it. Even if you were always more of a minimalist and preferred the average product, there was just something gorgeous about luxury cars that appealed to you.

“Yeah, actually it is.” Taehyung looked at you impressed, momentarily reminded of just how different you were compared to any other woman he’s chanced upon. 

How many of them knew car models?

Taehyung was intrigued by the fact before speaking with one of the hotel workers, confirming if they had loaded his car with both your luggage and some wedding sentiments your parents insisted you keep. 

Once receiving affirmation Taehyung made towards your side of the car and pulled the door open. He flashed you a tight-lipped smile as he gestured for you to hop in, drawing you out of your stupor. You thanked him warmly before sliding into your seat. 

He let you scramble in comfortably before shutting the door and walking to his side, positioning himself in and clicking on his seatbelt. He watched as your expression lit up once occupying the car, face beaming with excitement as you touched and drank in at the high-end features the vehicle had to offer. Taehyung found himself smiling before he licked his lips and straightened his face, igniting the engine and beginning the smooth drive. 

It was easy to settle the debate on where you both would be living. Taehyung was an enormously rich CEO who lived in an expensive, massive home while you lived in a measly apartment. You knew it was useless to live separately, even more useless to have him live with you. And so you agreed without protest to pack your things and relocate, begin your move into the house you’d share with him for a lifetime. 

The car ride remained quite silent, you mindlessly bopping your head to whatever mainstream song played on the radio, while Taehyung tapped his fingers against the steering wheel or his lap. 

You found your eyes wandering to his slender fingers wrapped around the wheel every so often, sometimes venturing to the other one he placed against his thigh. You began reprimanding yourself once you realized with all the staring, observing and ogling, you most certainly had a thing for his hands already. 

Fuck. 

They were just so big, bigger than what you’ve seen of the average man and it didn’t help that they looked crafted to perfection. 

There was just something about the veins that decorated them, his palm large in size as his fingers seemed deft turning and working the steering wheel. His little accessories like a ring or two, bracelets and his watch did absolutely nothing to deter your interest either.

It only increased once you realized he looked good driving, really good. You knew men had this common attractiveness to them when they drove, watching them all focused and effortlessly working the car somehow sexy; but watching Taehyung drive was another experience entirely. 

He looked insanely hot, and you felt like throwing yourself out your window for even thinking such a thing. It was another case of you ogling him without realizing until his deep voice suddenly fished you out of your thoughts, questioning. “Did you like the wedding?” 

“Huh?” 

“The wedding, did you like it?” Taehyung repeated, glancing at you. 

“Does it really matter if I did?” You asked, this one phrase seeming to perfectly sum up the misfortune of your life, provoking an ironic laugh even. 

“I think it does. A bride should always enjoy her wedding.” 

“Well, I didn’t.” You deadpanned, your expression turning frustrated having to remember that one of, if not the most special night of your life had just been robbed of you, thrown to the wolves while you were only left to accept the sad fact. 

“C’mon, you didn’t enjoy a single thing?” Taehyung didn’t mean to flash back to the kiss you two shared, though found himself doing exactly so. 

You didn’t enjoy that? he questioned in his head. 

“Not really, I just imagined having more choice in the wedding.” You answered honestly, trying not to sulk so much. “It’s not you, I just... thought I’d be able to decide things at my own wedding. I’m grateful your parents did so much, but I didn’t really get to choose anything.” You grew more solemn as your gaze fixated on nothing, watching the world pass you by through the car window. 

“My favourite flowers weren’t even there.” You said only despondently to yourself, shoulders drooping, though Taehyung didn’t miss it. 

“You don’t like roses?”

Your eyes flashed towards him with furrowed eyebrows, surprised he heard your comment. You straightened up before shrugging back a response. “I like peonies.” 

Taehyung looked at your side profile as you turned away, finding the conversation turning more sorrowful than he liked. He allowed some silence to linger as you leaned your chin against your palm, boringly watching the bustling streets.  

He decided to change the subject.

“So you don’t think I’m an asshole, huh?” 

“What?”

“You said you always see ‘asshole CEO’s’ getting people to drive them around. But I don’t, so I’m not an asshole to you?” Taehyung halved his attention between you and the road, glancing in your direction with one hand working the steering wheel.

You thought the question over, “No, you’re not an asshole.” You said simply, distracted by the thoughts that previously occupied your mind. 

“I see.” Taehyung pursed his lips. Another beat of silence passed through the downcast air before Taehyung perked up again.

“Is it just the driving? Or do you have other criteria?” Taehyung asked inquisitively, leaning back into his seat as he observed you. 

You could detect from the corner of your eyes the way his stance drew attention to his legs, thighs broad as he sat. “I guess there is.” 

“Like what?”

You didn’t really know why Taehyung was so curious. You thought it was common knowledge what the stereotypical asshole CEO was like; they were nearly all jerks with horrible one-percenter mentalities and treated people like gravel.  

You scoffed a bit. “They’re usually so full of themselves. They act like they own the place all the time, which makes sense at their own companies but not everywhere else. It’s like the position gets to their heads. Even the way they talk is condescending, belittling, or straight up rude to anyone not on their level. It wouldn’t kill to be nice.” You revealed almost too eagerly, avoiding eye contact with Taehyung as you viewed the traffic on the road ahead, remembering he was a CEO himself. 

Long story short, you’ve had your fair share of experiences meeting them as you grew up during the beginnings of your father’s company. They were quick to skew your opinion ever since you watched the way they treated your father all due to having a start-up, for simply being small in name or reputation. They acted like he was less than, some even daring to behave as though his company would simply never make it. 

It always boiled your blood, left an extremely distasteful image of CEOs and the business world in your head. 

And you were certain it all sucked after that. 

“Understandable.” Taehyung nodded agreeably. “But you think I don’t fit any of that?” He rested a hand against his thigh, sitting laxed as he spread his legs apart further. This time it was definitely hard to miss the way they appeared, all laid out and long as your eyes drank him in, following up his thighs all the way to his-

“You don’t. I thought maybe since you’re super successful you’d be full of yourself. But you’re not, really.” You snapped yourself out of whatever the hell you were doing, trying to refocus on the conversation.

“Ah, seems like a stepping stone.” 

“Stepping stone? Towards what?”

“Towards you not hating me.” His voice came out with a more solemn timbre than you expected, his jaw tightening for a mere second. 

Taehyung only thought such a thing because even if he decided you didn’t harbour negative feelings towards him, there was no way of him determining whether that was true or not without your real input. 

“I don’t hate you, Taehyung. I don’t.. think I can.” You claimed with poignancy, his statement causing you to reflect on your own feelings about him. 

You don’t hate Taehyung, you couldn’t because he did absolutely nothing wrong in this situation. He was dragged in just like you were. You only despised the unfairness of the arrangement, not him. 

There wasn’t much to hate about him.  

“So you’re saying you like me then, aren’t you?” Taehyung suddenly teased light-heartedly, all smug as his amused eyes flickered to you. 

“Shut up, I never said that.” You turned away, scandalized by his remark. 

“I’m kidding. But, why do you think you can’t hate me? I pretty much.. ruined your life.” Taehyung internally felt his chest tighten at the words, remembering the exact thoughts from where he stood no less than 24 hours ago, seconds from lawfully marrying you. 

“And I didn’t ruin yours?” This time you turned your gaze towards Taehyung, meaningfully. Your eyes instinctively communicated your emotions as they locked with his for a moment, Taehyung all attentive. 

“I took away from you just as much you took away from me. We both ruined each other’s lives, there’s no use in blaming each other. That’s why I can’t hate you.” You finalized, crossing your arms and opting to watch the passing buildings through your window again. 

Taehyung absorbed your sudden confession with reason, realizing that in a sense, you two were partners in this unfortunate case. Even if your matrimony constituted a forced partnership neither of you liked, there seemed to be a natural comradery in having to deal with the aftermath of that forced partnership. 

Trying to accept it. 

“I don’t think I can hate you, either.” Taehyung admitted, ending the more miserable part of the conversation as you fell silent. You thought he was done until he decided to bother you again. 

“I think you’re still saying you like me, though.” 

You turned to him half-appalled before pointing towards the road, eyes narrowed. “Just drive us home, will you?” 

Taehyung laughed at the moment and pressed down on the accelerator, internally grinning at the fact you never said no to his statement. 

“This is your house?” You found yourself gawking again at something that belonged to Taehyung, stepping inside a luxury home you’ve only ever dreamed of living in. Sure, you lived with your parents until you were 18, though your father was still starting out with his company for most of those years, not exactly owning anything too luxurious until after you permanently moved out.

So as you stood trying to prop your heels off yourself, your jaw dropped at the sheer elegance and high-status look to the interior of Taehyung’s home. You had already done enough gawking at the exterior, but being inside and processing the fact that you were now to inhabit this home for the rest of your life sent another wave of shock. 

You immediately observed Taehyung was the type who decorated his home with only the finest, his taste easily identifiable. Aesthetic, lavish, charming. He seemed like a man of utter simplicity though his home said otherwise, showcasing an artistic, exquisite feel you never really expected from him. 

“When will you stop saying that?” He titled his head and smiled through a laugh, removing his shoes and slipping into his indoor slippers. 

“Right, sorry.” You were still struggling for normalcy, somehow forgetting almost every hour Taehyung’s wealth and only registering it once you saw something that indicated it. 

Taehyung sauntered inside and took a deep breath, enjoying the feel of his abode. He enjoyed nothing more than being home, in the comfort of his own space. Especially for someone who worked so busily, he found pleasure in doing the bare minimum at home. Relishing in the feeling right now, he pressed his lips together in a smile before glancing back at your struggling figure, catching sight of your size. 

His eyebrows shot up to the sky. “Woah, you’re short.” 

“Huh?” 

“I think I’ve only ever seen you in heels.” Taehyung informed. “Now that you’re not wearing them you’re a lot shorter than I thought. You’re tiny.” He pointed out as he eyed you from head to toe, processing the amount of height you lost simply from removing your shoes. 

“I mean, that’s kind of what heels do, you know, they add height.” You deadpanned, stating the obvious for him. 

“Sorry, it’s just..” Kind of cute, he thought, though fought for another response. “I could probably throw you.” 

Nice save. 

“Excuse me? It’s not my fault you’re so tall.” You scowled at him. “Besides, you’re all height and no muscle, you probably can’t even carry me.” 

“Wanna see me try?” Taehyung was already coming towards you with his arms held out and you sputtered immediately, “No, no, no.” you held your hands up defensively. “Let’s just start the house tour, yeah?” you offered a smile for compromise. 

“That’s what I thought.” Taehyung narrowed his eyes coyly and turned on his heel, signaling you to follow him. 

What you realized strolling through the home as Taehyung discussed its details was that it emphatically represented him like an open book. Even if Taehyung was predominantly unreadable and seemed to always hide a mystery behind his eyes, you could see nearly all of him reflected in his home. 

You often found valuable trinkets or sentiments scattered around the house. It seemed like he cherished a lot of things in his life, namely memories or people. It would also be hard to miss the exquisite selection of paintings and embellishments he draped the walls with, all harbouring their own charm and adding to the overall artistic feel of his home. 

There were famous works consisting of Vincent Van Gogh all the way to local Korean artists you’ve never heard of, though admired their work. 

It seemed as though he selected the paintings himself. 

Another large aspect you couldn’t miss were the many photos he kept, calling to question whether they were of his own work. 

“Did you take these?” You approached a shelf in one of his grand hallways on the second floor, hand brushing the wooden frame of a captured photo; six men including Taehyung himself posing comfortably, like they were extremely close, backdrop reflecting what seemed to be a trip.  

“I took all of them.” He stated casually, hands tucked into his pockets as he eyed the shelf along with you. 

“All?” 

He simply nodded and didn’t elaborate further as he watched you admire the photos, yourself impressed by his adeptness for photography. 

“You’re really good.” You complimented absentmindedly, enjoying the other photos of not only people but scenery, empty streets, candid shots from what looked to be his own little adventures. 

“Thanks.” Was all Taehyung could manage, trying to mask the sheer gratitude he felt hearing the first ever person to admire his work; something that wasn’t related to being a CEO or a businessman. 

He also felt slightly embarrassed you’d seen a small part of him he usually hid.

Taehyung continued walking down the hallway until he reached the end, revealing what you could tell was the largest room in the house. You were thrown off by just how unnecessarily large it was. It seriously reminded you of an extravagant hotel suite, more like the grandest one among them. 

“This is our room.” Taehyung introduced, gesturing towards its interior. 

“Our?” 

Taehyung nodded “I should’ve told you earlier but I wanted us to sleep in the same room. If we slept apart our marriage wouldn’t look convincing to my two housekeepers. I trust them but I don’t want any information about us getting out to the public, not over my dead body.” Taehyung stated in earnest as he relayed the information, wandering further into the room. 

“You really care that much about publicity?” you genuinely questioned. 

Taehyung scoffed. “Not me, I couldn’t care less about what people think.” He denied instantly, almost laughably. “It’s my father. He hates bad press, especially concerning our family or the company.” 

“I thought bad press is still press, so it’s good.” You suggested as you followed him further into the room, admiring that though large, his room held a sense of comfort to it. Quite frankly, all of his home felt rather welcoming and cozy, surprising of a CEO who ran such a monstrously successful company.

“My father doesn’t think so. Kim Enterprises has always been generational, each of our CEO positions strictly kept within the family. Our name is our brand and pride, it alone accounts for at least half of our success. We’re extremely well-known for our high status, it’s just plain fact in the upper social circles of Korea. We can’t afford to taint our name with petty things like bad press or corruption, our reputation is too valuable.” Taehyung stated this all nonchalantly as he adjusted his suit jacket in his mirror, like it was something he’s grown accustomed to and has known all his life. 

You found your opinion impeding his words.  

“So you can never just, escape this life? As long as you’re a Kim you’re bound to this company?” You found the concept wildly restrictive, clearly shackling down any person that would run the business and you felt a disagreeing shiver shoot through your spine. 

“Of course, why would you want anything else?” Taehyung tiled his head to the side, eyeing you in genuine questioning and your entire being was trying to bite back the desire to correct him, tell him there’s so much more to life than just some company your family owns. Though you opted for changing the subject instead, unwilling to step on his toes and dictate his life when you knew next to nothing about it. 

It wasn’t your place. 

“Woah, you have a balcony?!” You exclaimed with a simper, eyes flickering towards the curtains that revealed two ajar French doors leading to an open space.

You made towards it excitedly and stopped just in the middle of the platform, enjoying the breeze of the fresh air.

“It’s my favourite part of the house.” You didn’t even realize Taehyung followed you until his towering figure stood directly behind you, feeling his proximity permeate through your body. 

You swallowed. 

“Why don’t you look at the view?” Taehyung cocked his head towards the railing of the balcony, though you didn’t move a step. 

You weren’t about to tell Taehyung you’re terribly afraid of heights.

“I-I can see from here. Wow, looks beautiful.” You perked up superficially, trying to throw him off and changing the subject again. “By the way, what’s our closet situation gonna look like?” 

“Ah, let me show you.” Taehyung strided back into the room towards the sliding double doors you spotted earlier. He almost theatrically glided both dark wooden panels open and your jaw dropped for the 47th time today. 

You were welcomed by a ridiculously large walk-in closet, enough to be renovated into its own bedroom. You simply couldn’t normalize its size, especially after registering every suit, tie, watch or accessory Taehyung stored in the gracious space. 

You couldn’t even begin to imagine how much money lied in here. 

“Oh my God.” Was all you could manage, meandering in sparingly as you viewed each and every expensive piece he owned in the room, no doubt of the highest quality designers, finest of men’s fashion. 

“You don’t have to worry about unpacking and moving in here, the housekeepers will do that for you.” Taehyung watched as you looked upon in awe, finding the way your eyes sparkled with emotion very similar to that of Bambi’s.  

“How will I fit-”

“I specifically made space for you, there’s enough.” Taehyung stated, leaning against the doorway with his arms crossed. He’d resolved a while ago he really would try to take this marriage seriously, victoriously achieve the work-life balance his father kept preaching. 

He saw giving up his closet space as the first step. 

It was indeed so because Taehyung thoroughly enjoyed fashion. He genuinely adored every suit, accessory and outfit in his collection, though if he wanted to reach this new goal of balance, successfully add you to his list of priorities, then he had to be willing to cut down. 

Even if that meant reallocating a third of his exorbitant wardrobe just for you, he’d try not to mind. 

“Are you sure? I could just use another room’s-” 

“I want to.” Taehyung finalized as his eyes turned unreadable from across the room, locking his gaze with yours and you were only left to look back impressed, his generosity unforeseen. 

“Thank you.” You voiced a little weak, still shy by the suffocating nature of his stare. 

“Don’t mention it.” He offered plainly, propping himself off the wall. He looked off to the side eyeing the empty pockets of space he left for you, until your voice called out to him.  

“Taehyung.”

“Hm?” He snapped his vision back to you. 

You wanted to ask him something, more so a favour and you were unsure how to word the request. “Um.. I didn’t want to ask so openly, but..” You found yourself beating around the bush, timid of what his response would be. 

“Go on.” 

“Um, so it seemed like there were a lot of empty rooms in this house, and I was just wondering if I could maybe.. transform one of them into an art studio for myself?” You winced at your own request. 

“I’m sorry, it’s just I had one at my old place and it really grew on me. I would get most of my work done in that room and gained a lot of inspiration from it. I have a lot of art supplies and designed often in that studio, so I need a home for all my supplies and it would suck getting rid of it all. I’m sorry it means I would have to steal one of your rooms in the house, if you don’t want me to then-” 

Taehyung couldn’t help but break out into a small grin as he watched you ramble on, shyly fidget with your fingers, so apprehensive of asking him for something and it reminded him why he was so eager to provide you with anything you wanted. 

You spent too long trying to do everything on your own, achieve everything on your own, relying solely on yourself. Taehyung could see this all as plain as day, quite enjoying of how he’s never really met someone like you, and wanted you to know you didn’t always have to be so independent.  

Especially with him. 

“Y/N.” He called out to you with the same honey-coloured tone from last night, stopping you. Your eyes flickered to his, awaiting his next sentence and Taehyung already found himself having a thing for your doe-eyes. 

Fuck. 

“Of course you can have a room. You can have anything in this house. It’s yours.” Taehyung stated with a degree of assurance, his eyes locking with yours in earnest. 

You both shared a look as your lips curved into a gracious smile, biting your lip to contain it. His stare wasn’t so much intimidating as it was merely.. calm. Gazing at you for the sole purpose of gazing, and you found some heat rushing to your face under his scrutiny. 

Taehyung seemed to realize he was staring and immediately cleared his throat, turning a little nervous as he began another conversation. “So um, I’m sorry to say this,” he began with unease, almost apprehensive and you didn’t know what he was so sorry about. “But I have work today.” 

You blinked. “What?” 

Taehyung internally winced at your reaction, hands finding his pockets. “I took some time off for the wedding, so now I have twice the amount of work left behind. I need to complete it.” He informed straightforwardly. 

“Our wedding was just yesterday, though, aren’t you tired?” You were only taken aback because you were slightly concerned for his wellbeing, wasn’t he tired from yesterday? You recalled him knocking out almost immediately upon hitting the pillow of your hotel bed last night, snoozing away. 

“Maybe, but I can’t afford to rest. I’ll only have more to complete if I do, so I won’t be spending anymore time with you today.” Taehyung relayed the information, readying himself for the even greater disappointing news he’d be passing on. 

“Actually, we won’t be able to go on our honeymoon, either.” Taehyung thought it was best to slip in all the bad news, growing more and more unrelaxed as he was unsure of how you’d react. 

Though what you said next had him nearly floored.

“Honeymoon? Taehyung, that’s the least of my concerns, you should at least rest a day before getting back to work. That’s not really healthy.” You chastised him as lightly as possible, still afraid to be stepping on his toes when you didn’t know his life. 

Taehyung was certain you’d hate having been stripped of a beautiful vacation where you could’ve relaxed in the sun and tropics of Cancun. Your father had mentioned to him you’ve always longed to visit the breath-taking city in Mexico, its clear waters and tropical air as a means to truly get away from your stifling life. 

So when he found you disregarding the trip altogether and instead focusing on him, more precisely his health, he was left damn well speechless. 

There you were again paying attention to the littlest things about him he didn’t care much for; he still had that bandage you offered him a month ago tucked into one of his pockets, not wanting to use the adhesive just yet. 

“I’ll be fine. I’m just sorry we can’t go on the vacation because of me, it would’ve been nice, you know?” Taehyung apologized, feeling genuinely guilty for having ruined the honeymoon. Even if you two weren’t going to travel as some lovey-dovey couple, you both simply could’ve enjoyed the time off.

“It’s okay, just, at least work from home today. Heading to the office would be too much.” You suggested for the sake of the fatigue you could discern on him. 

“Oh, don’t worry, I’m gonna be home for the next few days since everyone thinks we’ll be on our honeymoon.” 

“Oh. That’s.. good.” You nodded faintly, half at the idea you two were even faking your honeymoon and half at the blasphemous energy he had to work after yesterday. 

The sleep from last night was nearly not enough to recharge from the antics of the wedding, having drained your batteries for the next few days. You were certain his were drained too; he was half the damn couple. 

“I should get going. I’ll send Mrs. Choi and Seo up with your things. They’re probably finished with lunch too, you should eat.” Taehyung advised as he stepped out of the walk-in closet, running a hand through his gorgeous hair and you couldn’t help but ogle at the sexy way his strands fell back on him. 

“Okay.” You voiced as you followed him out, watching him near the room’s door and just about to vacate the premise before you spoke up. “Taehyung.” 

He stopped in his tracks, peering back at you. “Yes?” 

“You should eat something, too.”

Taehyung half-smiled at you with a nod “Sure”, before stepping out of the room, leaving you alone. 

And you couldn’t help but kind of like the way he smiles. 

It was well into the evening now, bordering dinner time as you helped the last of your clothes into Taehyung’s closet, refusing to let the older housekeepers do all the work by themselves considering it was your own luggage. 

You also tried to occupy Taehyung’s room as scarcely as you could with your belongings, feeling odd about suddenly moving in with all your might and changing things around. It just didn’t feel appropriate, like you were invading his space and so you opted for scattering only your necessary items.

“That should be the last of it, Mrs. Choi.” You retrieved your last piece of clothing from the rather soft-spoken housekeeper, tucking the blazer away among the rest. You were satisfied to see not only your wardrobe neatly organized now, but fit just about right with Taehyung’s things. 

He was right about space, there was enough.

“Mrs. Kim, please rest. You didn't have to move a muscle at all for us.” Mrs. Choi remarked, genuinely concerned for you. 

“Yes, please, Mrs. Kim. We can finish up with the little things. I’ve just finished preparing dinner downstairs, you should eat.” Mrs. Seo chimed in as she entered the walk-in closet, gesturing towards the door. 

“Are you sure? I can-”

“Mrs. Kim, you’re very kind for offering your help, we’re very grateful you’ve done so. Though we are Mr. Kim’s housekeepers, we are meant to care for his home and his lovely wife. You need not worry about helping us.” Mrs. Choi stated with an earnest tone, speaking respectfully as she addressed you. 

You were going to protest again before you considered her words, registering that if you indeed helped them, it would technically negate the entire purpose of their work. 

You bit back your reply as a result, crafting a new one. 

“I see, I’m sorry, Mrs. Seo, Mrs. Choi. I’m just.. very used to doing things on my own,” you looked towards the ground. “I apologize.” You almost dipped for a bow until Mrs. Choi rapidly cautioned you, scrambling towards your figure. 

“Oh dear, Mrs. Kim! You do not need to bow to us, you’re Mr. Kim’s wife, you are the one who is bowed to.” 

“Yes, you do not need to apologize either, we appreciate your help, it was very sweet of you.” Mrs. Seo added with a warm smile, bowing to you instead. “Please go for dinner downstairs, I’ve also informed Mr. Kim for dinner, though I’m unsure if he has made his way down yet.” She added on, urging you towards the room's exit and you recognized it was probably better to listen to her. 

Even if all this high-class, status stuff had yet to sink in or make sense to you after being away for so long, you understood there was an eventual tolerance you had to build for it. Just as Mrs. Choi said, you’re Kim Taehyung’s wife now, and that came with a hell lot of status you hadn’t even scratched the surface of yet.

You could already tell it was going to be a pain in the ass. 

“I suppose I should. I’ll get going, then.” You smiled graciously at both women, appreciative of their kindness and began vacating the closet. You just about pulled the room door open before Mrs. Seo suddenly came to you.

“Oh! Mrs. Kim,” she halted you. “I was informed by Mr. Kim to provide this to you. He would have done so himself though he’s quite busy at the moment.” Mrs. Seo extended her hand and presented a pristine looking card, black and incredibly sleek in design. Your eyebrows furrowed until you noticed the telltale symbols, almost ominously minimal branding indicating a rare card only those with some of the highest networths in Korea could own. 

Your eyes widened in horror. 

The Black Card. 

“P-pardon?” You needed her to reiterate, there was no way Kim Taehyung was giving you a black card, the same card that was limitless on credit and only exclusively owned by the affluent one-percenters of society. 

“He’s informed me this belongs to you now, and that you’re to keep it in your possession.” Mrs. Seo elaborated, smiling through the mental whiplash you were currently experiencing.  

“Belongs to.. me? This is mine?” You were still having trouble processing, why would Taehyung be gifting you this? Who’s account was it even attached to? Was it yours and he’s decided to graciously pay all the expensive fees, or worse, was it joined with his own account? 

Don’t tell me it’s joined with his account.  

“Yes, Mrs. Kim. It’s yours.” Mrs. Seo held it out more outwardly, nudging it in your direction. 

Your mouth fell agape for another second before you mentally collected yourself, quickly grabbing the card and thanking her as you made your exit, marching through the house for Taehyung’s unbelievable ass. 

Taehyung could not be providing you with this card. It was irrational, simply had to have been a decision he made with at least two bottles of soju in him, right? You didn’t care what his reasoning would be, you were denying and returning this. There was no way in hell you’d accept this card, especially if he linked his own personal account to it. 

You tried loosely recalling where Taehyung mentioned his study, logically assuming he was working there. You inspected majority of the second floor, working your way through the halls until you finally caught sight of the familiar wooden doors with glass panels, slightly ajar, light bleeding through.

You made for the room quickly and stormed in without a care, attempting to steady your breathing from all the rushing around. You caught Taehyung completely off guard, having shredded his suit jacket to instead sport the rolled up sleeves of his dress shirt, adorning black-rimmed, designer glasses. 

He looked 100x hotter than he should’ve. 

Taehyung suddenly propped up from the leaned-back position he’d assumed on his chair, expression caught by surprise. “Y/N?” He questioned, eyebrows furrowing. 

You held up the card and addressed him immediately. “Taehyung, what’s this? Why are you giving this to me?” You huffed, looking at him incredulously. 

“The card? For you to use..?” Taehyung responded cooperatively, confused as to why you seemed so frazzled. 

“But why, Taehyung? This is a black card, the annual fees on this are insane and I can’t pay-” 

“You’re not paying for them, I am.” Taehyung cut in, shutting the binder he was holding and placing it on his desk. 

“What? No, no way. If it’s my account then I should be the one-”

“It’s not your account, either, it’s mine.” Taehyung brought his elbows to his desk, hands clasped together in front of his lips. It was now he gave you that same intimidating stare he did back when you first met him, calculative and devoid of expression. 

It seemed he did this when he got serious. 

“Your account? But-Taehyung, this is your money, I can’t just have it. Please, take this back.” You stepped towards his desk to return the card eagerly, but Taehyung’s firm tone stopped you. 

“No, it’s yours. I gave it to you to keep.” His words held this underlying sense of authority, scratch that, dominance when he spoke seriously, resolute. You could instantly tell he possessed a natural sense of alpha male characteristics, enough that even though he wasn’t being harsh or looming, his words and the tone he coated them with held more power than you could manifest. 

You almost cowered, but remained adamant on returning the card. It was worse with the card attached to his account, you couldn’t just keep Taehyung’s money like it was your own, it simply wasn’t. Your money sat ordinarily in a separate account on a separate card, which you were happy enough to use. You weren’t going to mooch off of him, it went against every principle that made up your very being. 

“This is your money, Taehyung. I have no right to use it.” 

“You’re my wife. You have every right in the world to use it.” Taehyung countered with no emotion, or at least any you could discern, uncertain what was running through his mind with only his eyes as a guide towards the answer. 

And you knew his eyes didn’t tell. 

“Taehyung, this doesn’t feel right to me. This isn’t my money and I can’t use it.” You emphasized more strongly, drawing closer to his desk though halting your actions once he spoke again. 

“My money is your money, you can always use it.” You knew he was relaxed, appearing practically unbothered as he leaned onto his desk and eyed you. Though with the intense look in his eyes, his aura screaming for anyone within the vicinity to submit to him, he could easily seem frustrated with the situation, namely you. 

And it made you want to crawl into a hole.

“No, it isn’t. I’ve already intruded your home, taken your closet, your room and even an extra one just for myself. I will not take your money either. Please, take this back.” You held out the card more prominently, desperate to have him understand you.

Taehyung wasn’t necessarily frustrated by you, no, he was slightly pissed you kept referring to everything as just his and not yours, that he was the only one considering you two as a married couple now while you still viewed each other separately.

Did you not see him as your husband yet?

He also disliked the fact that you seemed scared of him, or unable to trust him like last night. He could see you fighting back the urge to cower away, genuinely upsetting him you still held a degree of fear and unsureness in your eyes. 

Why are you so afraid of me? 

“Y/N, everything isn’t just mine anymore, it’s yours, too. We’re a married couple, husband and wife. What’s mine is yours.” Taehyung tried to reason, loosening himself up more to seem less intimidating, more approachable.

“But money, Taehyung-it’s different. I didn’t even want to take my own father’s money, there’s no way I’ll take yours, please.” Pleading leaked into your tone as you lips started doing that thing where they just about pout, emphasizing their plushiness and Taehyung couldn’t help but notice it again. 

He started growing frustrated as he removed his glasses, placing them on his desk and pinching the bridge of his nose. It seemed like he was digesting the situation, searching for the best approach.

“Y/N, look. I know the kind of situation you had with your father, but I’m not him. Didn’t you hear what Mrs. Choi and Seo addressed you as?” 

You thought it over, unknowing of where he was taking this. “They.. called me Mrs. Kim.”

“Exactly. Even my last name is yours, everything I have is yours. I’m your husband, I’m always going to provide you with things from now on. That card is just one of many.” Taehyung offered his best explanation, making sure his tone wasn’t as serious to sidetrack any fear you still had.

“I understand. But this is a black card, Taehyung, and it’s your hard-earned money, not mine. It feels wrong even just having it.” You couldn’t fight your inner turmoil, you genuinely believed this to be wrong. After spending almost a decade trying to work for yourself, pay for yourself, seldom seeking the help of another, this just left a disagreeing feeling to churn in your stomach.

Taehyung sighed heavily before pushing his chair back, rising from his seat. He made his way over to you where you grew unintentionally defensive, retracting from him slightly as he neared you. He noticed it and pursed his lips, reaching out for your upper arms and taking them warmly, tenderly, waiting for your eyes to meet his before he spoke to you.

“Y/N, do you remember what I said before I kissed you yesterday?”

Your eyes widened having been reminded of the intimate moment, nodding at him innocently. Taehyung witnessed you trying to avoid eye contact and found himself softening. 

“I didn’t say that without reason. I meant it when I said I would take care of you. Your father is a different story, if you don’t want to use his money, I respect that. But I’m your husband, and I want to be a good one. I want to give you things.. do things for you simply because I want to.” Taehyung reasoned, gripping you lightly. “I want you to use my money, you’re allowed to use it.” He tried voicing with sincerity, earnestly, hoping he could change your mind.

He saw you still hesitating to accept the offer, however, deciding on a compromise.

“Look, you don’t have to use it all the time. You can still use your own card, but you can use mine here and there. Seriously, Y/N, using it won’t even make a dent on me. I’m the CEO of a multi-billion dollar company, use it at your discretion.” Taehyung could practically see your gears shifting, searching for your eyes as he wished you’d understand him. 

He saw this as a second step towards work-life balance, only feeling the responsibility and genuine desire to be the good husband in spite of the unfortunate nature of your marriage. He didn’t want any doubt concerning his ability to be a good husband, either.

After all, when Taehyung did something, he always did the best he possibly could.

“Okay, I guess you’re right. But I do have my own money, and I’ll be using that 100x more often than yours.” You relaxed and oddly let him hold you, looking down at the black card that rested in your hand and clutching it to your palm.

Taehyung realized he was still holding you and let go, retiring to fluff his hair instead. You caught a glimpse of his bicep underneath his rolled up sleeve as he did so, and you truly hated you chose a time like this to find him stunningly attractive.

“You should come downstairs, Mrs. Seo prepared dinner.” You ignored your thoughts.

“You go first, I’ll be down in a second.”

You nodded agreeably and turned away, leaving his study. You took a second look at the card in your hand, then glanced around the house as you strolled through it, trying to embed what Taehyung said into the crevices of your resistant thinking.

Everything I have is yours, you reiterated, registering that Taehyung had in fact grown accustomed to the idea of you two as a couple already. He’s accepted it, embraced it, even enforced it now with his earlier declarations and this black card. You automatically felt behind, like you were the tortoise in the race and needed to pick up your pace.

If Taehyung had already come to terms with your marriage, it was only a matter of time before you did as well. Marriage is a two-way street, and if you wanted to make this easier on both yourself and Taehyung, you would compromise with him, accept the true sense of partnership that entailed your status as husband and wife.

Thus was the exact mantra that played in your head as you fiddled with the card, remembering the way his big hands held you.

Warm.

It was night. 

You could say it was like any other ordinary night, though that would be a gargantuan lie. 

This night was the first time Taehyung and yourself were going to sleep in the same bed.

In your own home. 

The hotel suite left you both with your own space and privacy since it was a random, public room with no personality or attachment to it whatsoever, making it easier and comfortable to sleep with him.

So when you emerged from your walk-in closet in a thin camisole, loose pajama shorts and without a bra, you were cursing yourself. God damn you for needing to sleep in minimal clothing for comfort. You’d slept in a loose t-shirt and bottoms at the suite last night since it was a public room, and long story short, it left you tossing and turning more than you liked. 

You had no clue prior to arriving here that you’d be sharing a room with Taehyung. You’d expected to sleep in a different one, in the privacy of your own room where you could prance around as you wished and as a result packed your usual sleepwear. 

But now that you were left having to slumber with Taehyung, clothes on the more revealing side, there was no turning back. 

And what there was truly no turning back from, was when you opened the closet door and your eyes landed on Taehyung’s shirtless, wet self drying his hair after a shower. 

You immediately malfunctioned.

Your eyes fell to his bare back, ruffling his wet hair as his plaid pajama pants hung loosely at his hips. You immediately exclaimed and clamped a hand over your mouth, trying to shut yourself up. 

You did not expect at all for Taehyung to have such honey-coloured skin. It was like it naturally glowed, a healthy tone that made him appear all the more delectable. It certainly didn’t help that his shoulders were broader than you first observed, sincerely an other-worldly experience when he wasn’t wearing clothes. 

You also got an all-access view of his trap muscles, adding to the width of his shoulders overall and when Taehyung turned around to the sound of the closet door opening, gaze locking with yours, you could confirm his neck, chest and collarbones were indeed crafted to perfection.

Taehyung’s eyes widened momentarily drinking you in, not expecting your light sleepwear when just last night he witnessed you in a full pajama set. Not to mention, and he hated that he could tell, but you weren't wearing a bra. 

And the camisole did nothing to hide that. 

Taehyung straightened himself up realizing you two were practically gawking at each other, resting the towel around his neck as he cleared his throat. “That’s what you sleep in?” 

“That’s what you sleep in?” You retorted, arms over your chest. 

“Guys usually sleep shirtless, this is normal.” Taehyung gestured towards his own body and you had half a mind to floor yourself. It’s like Taehyung knew but also didn’t know he was hot, knew the effect he had on people though never grew cocky or proud enough to purposefully parade it around. 

And it frustrated you even more; he was fairly humble about being a sexy Greek God. 

“Girls sleep like this too, this is normal.” You copied him, looking off to the side. 

“I was kidding, I only sleep shirtless sometimes. Just get in bed.” Taehyung narrowed his eyes as he gestured towards the sheets, returning to his palace of a bathroom to toss his towel in the hamper and pull a t-shirt over his head. 

You wanted to move, feet just about ready to carry you but you never abandoned your spot. Instead, you pressed your lips into a thin line contemplating that sharing a bed with Taehyung, in clothes like this and in such proximity, all held a degree of intimacy you didn’t know you two shared yet. 

It’s only been a day. 

So when Taehyung returned to your unmoving figure, arms holding your chest and avoiding eye contact with him, he was quick to get the message. 

“Um.. if you really don’t want to sleep here, I can give you another room.” Taehyung offered, figuring himself this may be too soon. 

“No, it’s okay, that’d be kind of a hassle.” You waved him off. “Besides, your bed looks comfy.”

You were honestly trying to live up to your acceptance that Taehyung was the man you’d spend your life with now, so you’d better start getting use to him. You’d sleep next to him for numerous nights, spend endless days together and share a multitude of things; this would simply just be a first of many first times. 

So you paddled over to the bed and removed the covers to snuggle yourself in, the bed’s coolness sending a shiver through you before you hugged the blanket to yourself. Taehyung stood with a smile before crawling in himself, adjusting the covers to his liking. 

He felt at peace in a matter of seconds, the feeling of his own bed lulling him into a state of slumber already. He reached his arm out to shut off the lamp on his bedside table, leaving the room pitch dark and only his digital clock and balcony as a light source. 

You began to cower a bit in the darkness, thankful for the sheer curtains that allowed the moonlight to spill into the room. 

You felt another shiver run through your body when you shifted, realizing you were cold even under the sheets. You tried warming up on your own by shimmying the blanket around more comfortably, but it didn't do much. 

You were left lying on the bed trying to think warm thoughts, unintentionally breathing in the constant scent of Taehyung from his bed; his cologne, his aftershave, his body wash all filling your nostrils.

It was intoxicating, absolutely distracting and sleep began to slip your mind. It didn’t help that you were still cold too, moving around and turning onto your side where you now faced Taehyung. 

He seemed to have already dozed off, face tranquil as he slept soundlessly on his back. You couldn't help but admire his side-profile, the sparse moonlight illuminating his features. It was hard to not stretch your hand out and nearly run a touch along his cheek, like he was a rare work of art that naturally called for admiration.

You realized turning towards him that he radiated a wave of warmth from his body, remembering boys were pretty much furnaces while girls usually froze.

How wonderful it is to be a woman. 

You desired some of that heat and shuffled just a little closer to Taehyung, nearing the center of the bed. You discerned he was indeed warm and maneuvered slightly closer, just about stopping at the center of the bed. You fought back the urge to shimmy any closer, leaving a mindful gap between you two. 

You were seconds from catching a peace of mind until Taehyung unexpectedly spoke in the silence of the night, startling you. 

“You can come closer, I don’t bite.” The smirk in his voice was obvious, making you scrunch your nose and snap back at him. 

“Shut up, I’m not getting closer to you.” 

“You should, I’m really warm, and I can tell you’re cold.” There he was again teasing, his tone coy as he kept his eyes shut, unbothered. 

“Over my dead body.” You mocked him from earlier, turning away from him abruptly and pulling the covers over your head. 

Coffee was probably your favourite thing life had to offer. One of the couple things you’d fight someone over; coffee and your independence, if you wanted to be specific. 

So it made you genuinely happy Taehyung had such a wide selection of coffee to choose from, ranging from all kinds of beans to instant coffee, cappuccinos, lattes, mochas, you name it. It took no time for you to craft a cup to your liking, shuffle into a seat on the island and begin picking at the breakfast the housekeepers had whipped up earlier this morning. 

You’d woken up early today keeping in mind the day you had planned. You decided this to be another move-in day as part of your studio setup project you’ve entertained for the last week. The granted time off due to your odd honeymoon farce with Taehyung proved to actually come in handy, thankfully. 

It had been another peaceful morning for you, having woken up with sunlight gracing the walls, certain you could hear birds chirping as if you were in a Disney film and little mice would come out to start sewing the gown you’d wear as a princess. 

It had been a peaceful morning indeed, but when you stretched out to loosen your stiff muscles, the chaos that met you was anything but peaceful. Even if it’s occurred at least 5 times now, you kept forgetting that you shared a bed with someone else now, and that said someone had somehow always founds a way to gravitate towards you during the night, even daringly cast an arm over you sometimes. 

It left you in a state of panic registering that Taehyung’s, dare you say warm and cozy body would be just behind you, his chest mere centimeters from your back. You would stay still for some time, calculating the optimal way to remove yourself from his hold until he eventually stirred enough to loosen his grip, darting right out of bed. 

Other times, he’d wake earlier than you and you wondered what would cross his mind once he registered your oddly proximal bodies. 

Did it ever bother him?

Nonetheless, it brought a mischievous smile to your face thinking about the fact that Taehyung had such a perfectly human habit like cuddling. He was always so serious, so put together and a near machine at everything he did, seeming as though he wouldn’t give anything romantic the time of day. 

But it was hard to forget the fluffy feeling that blossomed in your chest when you would sense his proximity, maybe inviting a liking to it. You had always slept alone, only yourself and the darkness to keep you company in your lonely bed, in your lonely home. 

So sleeping next to someone, namely Kim Taehyung left an impression on you you couldn’t quite shake. It was difficult to erase the image of his calm, sleeping face after the handful of times witnessing it. Long eyelashes delicately pressed to the skin under his eyes, lips plush as he seemed to naturally pout in his sleep. The sunlight only accentuated his honey-coloured skin, adding a glow to his features that made him appear prettier than he already was. 

It was nice to think you’d wake up to that every morning. 

You found your mind still playing around with the idea until you snapped yourself out of it, questioning why the hell you always ventured off whenever you thought about him. 

Weird. 

You were scolding yourself until your eyes caught Taehyung strolling into the kitchen with his phone in is hand. He’d foregone a jacket today, black shirt sleeves folded to mid-forearm paired with black slacks.  

You were normal until you almost spat your coffee seeing he wasn’t wearing a tie but instead had the first few buttons of his shirt open, revealing a generous view of his neck and the beginnings of his chest. 

Fucking hell.

You were staring stupidly until Taehyung peeked up at you, smiling “Morning.” 

“M-morning.” you stuttered.

He seemed unsuspecting as he returned his attention to his phone, proceeding to the kitchen counter and retrieving a cup to fix himself a drink. He appeared to be reading something conscientiously on his device, never taking his eyes off and you quickly became bored, ready to use the weapon you’d acquired. 

“So.. you’re a cuddler, huh?”

Taehyung nearly dropped his cup.  

“I’m sorry, what?” 

“You’re a cuddler when you sleep. Cute.” You rested your chin in your palm, playful smile on your face. 

“I think you’re mistaken, I am not a cuddler. And I’m not cute.” Taehyung denied as he only focused on the cup, his back to you. You then watched him reach for his selection of tea and purposefully evade the coffee, your eyes lighting up with mischief.  

“Wait, you’re a cuddler and you drink tea instead of coffee? Very cute.” You pulled on his leg, chuckling as you brought your mug to your lips

This was going to be fun.

“Shut up, I don’t like the taste and tea is healthier.” Taehyung practically sneered back, harshly ripping the packet of his tea bag.

“Doesn’t take away from the fact that you’re a cuddler.” You sipped on your coffee, unbothered as you swung your legs back and fourth. 

“Doesn’t take away from the fact that you like it.” 

You nearly spat your drink. 

“What?” 

“I remember a certain someone that shuffles closer to me for warmth, no?” Taehyung snapped back as he returned to his phone and popped his tea into the microwave, his shoulders high to the sky. You could imagine his smug face proud of his remark while searching for your own, realizing that Taehyung was damn good at arguing and you’d really have to upgrade your comeback game to counter him. 

He was unfortunately your match.

“Even if I were one, which I’m not, It’s not like I’m committing a crime.” Taehyung suddenly finalized with a snippy tone, and you realized you may have hurt his ego. 

Men. 

“I never said it was a bad thing.” You commented under your breath and looked away, popping a raspberry into your mouth. 

Taehyung bit back a smirk as he retrieved his cup of tea, taking a sip as he returned to his phone and took a seat across from you. He began compiling his plate of breakfast as he worked his device, typing away with one hand as if he was drafting the Magna Carta. 

You became bored again.

“Why do you have so much coffee if you don’t like it?” You genuinely felt like inquiring, if he didn’t like the taste why would he have so much? 

“For my housekeepers, they drink it.” He took a sip of his tea, all attention on his phone. 

You nodded understandingly. “Why do you have two housekeepers, by the way? Isn’t one enough?” 

“So they can keep each other company.” He answered absentmindedly, eyes still glued to his phone as he bit a piece of his toast. You really hated that he wasn’t actively interacting with you because it only left room to stare at him, and that was never any good.  

He looked illegally attractive with the unbuttoned part of his shirt, your mind profusely bugging out over the exposed bit of his chest. You were reminded of the full view from last night, and began pondering how long you’d survive having to see that for the rest of your life. 

“O-oh, that’s nice.” You stuttered back a reply, squashing your previous thought.

You were actually quite impressed by the kindness Taehyung showed behind that decision, noticing he had these small moments where he was caring, considerate, all hidden behind his unreadable face and seriousness when it came to business. 

It was quite interesting. 

You were mindlessly eating until Taehyung spoke up, eyes flickering towards you. “What are you going to do today?” 

You swallowed your fruit. “I was planning on moving more stuff in again, start finishing my studio setup. Thank you again for the room, by the way.” You expressed your gratitude once more, forking some eggs into your mouth. 

“Don’t mention it.” 

“What are you doing today?” you echoed his question, taking another swig of coffee.

“I’m working again. If you need anything I’ll be in my study.” Taehyung sent you a half-smile before snatching up his plate, bringing his phone to his ear as he stepped out of the kitchen. 

You sighed heavily only being left to think about your day, which would be majorly spent unpacking and arranging things. You had a plethora of art supplies, design tools and canvases to set up in your studio, leaving you constantly thinking of how to even begin. 

It would be a mission alone to sort through everything you had left, knowing you didn’t exactly label out of sheer laziness and would have to individually unbox and organize everything . 

It was this exact task that took up most of your day, time having slipped by in the blink of an eye. It wasn’t easy when you had to be rummaging through your belongings and situating them where you thought appropriate, also trying to envision a new look for your studio. 

You hadn’t realized 3 hours had passed until the ring of the front doorbell caused you to check your phone, curious as to who would be visiting your home in the middle of the day. You assumed it be one of the housekeepers and abandoned your work, cascading down the staircase and striding towards the grand entrance. 

You drew towards the monitor Taehyung had showed you just yesterday, explaining it to be your home security system. Taehyung detailed it had a camera for your front porch that detected movement and the doorbell alike, so you peered at the monitor to see the stranger outside your home. 

Your eyebrows furrowed registering a woman, her back turned towards the door as she fidgeted nervously with her purse in her hand. 

Sheer curiosity took you over and you paddled towards the door, unlocking it. You wore a smile on your face as you swung the door open, though it was immediately wiped off taking in the last person on earth you ever wanted to see. 

“Mother?”

prev. ↞ || ↠ next  || masterlist

tags : @thedarkwinterrose @ayujaded @couldbeyourlast @ladyarmanto @anpanman-sonyeondan @apollukee @blueevelvt @taesluttt @scalubera​ @laurynne5​ @dreamsindreamss​ @thequeen-kat​ @awsome-small-k​ @wrecklesssly​ @kweenhu​ @jalexad​ @staerify​ @bangforever​ @dyriddle​ @aianloveseven​ @waves-and-woods​ @hoefortaeshands​ @veronawrites​ @nightapple4jk​ @wataemelonz​ @aomi-nabi​

#thebtswritersclub #bangtanhq #kwritersworldnet #ksmutclub #thetruthuntoldnet #taehyung x reader #taehyung smut #taehyung angst #taehyung fluff #kim taehyung x reader #bts smut #bts angst #bts fluff #taehyung scenario #taehyung fanfiction #taehyung arranged marriage au #kim taehyung

[sunsents]

Empty - F.W (1/2)

Gah daym this was a JOURNEY to write. I swore to myself to never write angst because, well I suck at it. But here we are, I swear this has a good ending because my heart can't bear that. I could've written this much better, so I promise to bring my A GAME for chapter 2. Enjoy, also Lee in this is a hate crime. This is very story telling-esk so I hope it flows well.

I wouldn't have written this chapter without the help of my good friend @mochiixjimin she helped me edit and spice up this whole thing so thank you so much to her! She's an amazing writer, go check out her work and show her some big love right now or else!! her wattpad

Chapter 1 out of 2 (Backstory)

Summary —> Life has always been a cruel joke to you, yet you simply play along. Overshadowed by Eva Burke your whole life, watching from the sidelines while everyone flooded each other with love, it would always feel like a joke.

Pairing: fredweasley x fem!reader

Word count: 6.1k

Warnings: ANGST ANGST ANGST (with a fluffy ending in the second part) / One mature scene (18+) and then it's angst again <3 / Some slander / Offensive language

Rating: 18+

DON’T REPOST MY WORK

You were a bright child.

Beaming bright enough to keep a tight lipped smile during flu-shots, and enough to put on a happy façade when your dad threw away the drawing you had done of your family dog, rather than hang it up on the fridge.

Children have foolish dreams, and that was yours. Your friends in preschool boasted about their pictures being hung like trophies on fridges, with decorative magnets and even bigger pink bow ties.

The fridge in the Y/L/N manor was empty. Always empty, just how Ms. Y/L/N liked it. Empty marble floors with empty rug designs, and empty rooms with even emptier people living in it. They were both empty people. Hollow and void of any emotion, at least towards you.

You were different though. You were filled to the brim with ambition and hope and so many positive emotions that your parents never seemed to reflect on you. You were like those Disney princesses. The princesses always had hope, and when you have hope good things happen.

Right?

Your dad never meant to give you false hope. He just wished you’d keep your mouth shut as he worked until late hours. Using big words and having big aspirations, you shouldn’t have.

Mr and Mrs Y/L/N weren't bad people per say, just busy. They didn't know how to raise a child, this was obvious, because the purpose of even having a child was to fix their marriage. But a temporary fix wouldn't do it, it never did. There was always that hole on the roof, leaking rain of despair into their falsely built home that no bucket big enough could hold back. Because it always found a way to overflow.

They didn't know how to show their love, so they did it with money, clothes, toys and crayons that you would later use to draw pictures of your family, only to have them end up in the dumpster once again.

They spoiled you rotten, bought you gifts you never even dreamed of asking. You just shut up and enjoyed it, what else could you do? Whine and demand attention? Risk losing their favor? There was no favor to lose.

You got yourself a fat A plus on your third grade math test. Star stickers on your chest, you entered through the glass double doors of your house with a crooked smile - two front teeth missing of course - making your joy all the more endearing. Your backpack strapped tightly over your narrow shoulders, hanging low with all the crammed books you pushed before leaving school because you were just so excited to show your parents.

You received a big sloppy kiss from your Nanny, who practically was like a second mom to you, and dashed right into your fathers office to show him your new accomplishment.

"Good job, I'm proud of you."

You froze. You found a way to actually get their attention. The attention you so craved, the recognition you would die for. This was revolutionary. Basically a new era for you.

Nanny made you a star shaped cake that night, and sat with you while gently stroking your hair and listening to you blabber about how easy the math questions were. It felt warm, motherly love. Even if it was false, it would never compare to the love of your own mother, a love you would never get.

You spent all your night studying, your eyes burning under the harsh light of your lamp in the early mornings and your pencil, ebbing away over sheets and sheets of blank paper. Writing away your little hands off until they ached, just to snatch another A and get a good job.

This was good, it worked out very well. You became that student who looked forward to class, just to get a good grade and have the validation of your parents. The sight of your father’s lips quirk up even in the slightest, and how your mother’s eyes shone briefly in appreciation of your hard work, even if it was for a quick second, it was worth it.

Until the new neighbors moved in.

Mr. Burke was a round, cheerful man with an even rounder belly, and a big fat pipe that always hung on his lips. Mrs Burke looked and acted like those fairy godmothers you adored. You couldn’t believe such people existed. Mr Y/L/N invited them over for dinner, for courtesy. He was not happy about said courtesy.

He ended up liking the couple, they had a little daughter called Eva, who was small and adorable with round red cheeks and big doe eyes. Not only Mr and Mrs Burke, but the Y/L/N’s adored Eva as well. She was happy, always smiling, and her teeth weren't nearly as crooked as yours, not to mention she had pretty long hair like a princess.

You liked her a lot, took her to pick flowers, showed her the drawings you had prepared for the empty fridge; in case Mr Y/L/N ever had a change of heart and hung them up, you had been trying for three years and weren't giving up any sooner.

Eva was nice, kind enough to share her M&M's and very used to compliments unlike you. She seemed to get a lot from her parents and yours. The adults were so kind to her, always smothering her with love and kisses. You were happy for Eva, happy that Eva somehow managed to gain the favor of your parents before you did.

Little girls tended to be jealous, you weren’t. You were just glad to have a friend so cool, she didn't blush and stutter under praise and apparently her drawings were pretty enough to go on a fridge.

It was a Thursday afternoon when your mom smiled at you for the first time since your last exam grade. "Look, Eva drew us a picture, isn't it pretty?"

The crayola stash under your bed was no longer needed, they appeared clumsily dumped in the neighborhood trash the next day, most of them stomped under the pressure of your little sneakers. And the bundle of drawings you hid under your pillow, wishing on fairy godmother that one day they would be hung up too, were ripped; clearly a struggle given. You had paper cuts on your hands, and your Nanny thankfully applied ointment before Ms and Mr Y/L/N noticed, or rather, stopped to care.

Though you knew that even if you paraded herself with bloody fingers dripping to your elbows, they wouldn't care.

Nanny did, she was there. There when you were haunted with nightmares when the moon was particularly dark, cooing at you and letting you sleep next to her in that small bed of hers. There when you tripped and fell, small scratch resulting in a screaming tantrum. She was gentle, sweet, paid well.

You decided to go and pick flowers with Eva, and make a pretty flower crown for yourself, months after your drawing incident. Of course, you didn't have such silly dreams anymore. You didn’t wish to have your pictures hung, to have your mother wear the flower crowns you made and frankly you didn’t care for the sight of the sparkle in your parents eyes. Nanny’s was enough.

Eva agreed, dressed in a pink tutu Mrs Y/L/N gifted. You didn't comment, though deep down you gazed at the skirt in sparkling envy. Your mother never bothered to get you such pretty things. The two of you gathered saturated petals and nice ribbons while giggling amongst yourselves. Until, you accidentally caused Eva’s flowers to levitate.

Eva ran home, crying and calling you a witch. Mr and Mrs Y/L/N’s dirty looks made her feel shameful, and even dirtier when a letter addressed to her was dropped by a pretty owl you insisted on petting. It was from a school called Hogwarts, in the faraway land of London, and it seemed, not only you but Eva got the same letter the next day.

Though the Y/L/N’s and Burke’s were proud of Eva’s letter. They weren’t with yours.

— — — —

The ride to Hogwarts was interesting to say the least. You had so many questions unanswered, were you a fairy godmother too? Was that your destiny? Was that the reason you never got any attention, because you were destined to give instead of receive?

Eva was cheerful as always, making fast friends in newly bought uniforms and holding a pretty, long and thin wand, with designs flowing across the premise. Your wand was...functional. You were sad you couldn't choose, and that the wand chose the owner. It didn't make sense, what if you didn't want this wand? What if you wanted something charming like Eva’s? It should have been mutual.

It was while trying to find your way to the bathroom that you met the Weasley twins. Quite handsome, a year older and absolute fucktards. A word you learned from the two. Though you always found yourself laughing more at Fred’s jokes, you liked them both equally.

“Hey George! Look.” Fred had exclaimed, clinging onto his brothers shoulder and dragging him across. “Who's that girl?”

You introduced yourself, happy façade on, gentle words slipping out of your mouth like nectar. They had to like you, you told yourself. Just this once, more than Eva.

When sorted into Gryffindor, Eva, you and the twins became inseparable. Your group grew in second year, when Katie, Lee and Alicia Spinnet joined the bunch. You would make fun of the ghastly Potions Professor Snape, and imitate Dumbledore in the hallways to mess with the older students.

You loved your time at Hogwarts, and the adventures that came every year. Especially when Harry Potter joined.

“Hey Fred.”

Fred, who was fiddling with his bracelet you had bought him hummed in response, not bothering to look up.

You sighed, “Do you think the flowers can feel it when we pluck them?”

Fred turned at that, his bracelet was now tightly secure after his struggles. “I hope not.” he smiled, a faraway look on his face whenever he gazed at you. “You know, some people like pain.” he winked.

You merely looked at him confused, clearly way too young for...whatever that is.

He started laughing loudly, slapping his knee and causing you to scoff and slap him on the shoulder.

Third year was when it bloomed. The slight girly attention you gave Fred grew. Fred was...Fred. A handsome ginger, beater for their house's Quidditch team, always charming and charismatic that somehow oozed out of him whenever he did anything really. It was not unusual, every girl in school had a crush on him. That wasn't the case, Fred was one of your best friends, and you refused to entertain the idea of a possible...relationship.

Yet sometimes, you'd find yourself thinking about hugging and kissing Fred like you’d seen couples in your favorite movies did and you’d fall asleep with reddened cheeks and a boy with even redder hair in your mind.

But feelings couldn’t be controlled, nor easily hidden. Eva found out in your fourth year after hearing you mumble his name in your dreams. Fred Weasley was getting more handsome as years passed, and you found it hard to contain your feelings. You were crushing, hard.

Eva was...Eva about it. Happy, but nothing changed. She didn't tease like George did when he found out, nor did she act any differently towards Fred.

“Hey ____!” Fred had sat next to you, shaking the entire couch because he grew that tall during summer. “Got a new girl after me.” he looked at you, almost expectantly, as if you wouldn’t react the way you always reacted.

“That’s great Fred.” you smiled, gulping whatever lump that was forming in your throat and struggling to come out as vulgar words you wished to yell.

“Yeah,” Fred sighed, “It’s...great.”

Fred Weasley was a ladies man, and he wasn't afraid to show it. It was okay, because you were happy enough to be one of his closest, and that was enough. He often boasted about getting girls, and how successful his jokes were, and you always loved snapping back to him cockily, even more cockily than him. Playful banter was easy, comforting between them and when he turned away you would love to shyly entertain the idea of being one of those girl’s Fred talked about.

Fifth year, you had a sudden growth spurt. That was also the year where you discovered Cosmopolitan, Vogue and of course Witch Weekly. Hair no longer in a ponytail, legs shaved and smooth, short skirts with no nylons, you were a new person. After getting your period in third year, your spurt came late, but sudden. Way too sudden in the time of three months. It was hard to handle the changes occurring to your body. It was all too much that you had to become a lady and the fact that you didn’t have your mother to help was a pain you hid deep within.

It was as if whichever god above decided to squeeze your entire life into a summer and call it a day, because it was simply too busy. How ironic. No one saw your growth except old Nanny Gladys. Not Eva, nor her parents considering they went on a getaway and the Burke's, who had gone to Brazil.

But you were over that, you discovered the great telephone, and the great Hermione Granger, package deal with Ginny Weasley. You guys would talk on the phone for hours upon hours, Ginny obscuring your personality and Hermione altering your view on your parents. And Hermione was right, they were assholes. You didn't give a flying fuck about empty praises anymore.

You had become almost too tall for your older clothes, and your breasts were way too big to fit in the training bra you bought not even a month ago. Your hips, now wide and swaying as you walk became graceful, were decorated with long gem bracelets.

You cursed like a sailor that summer, ran around fields with family - your family being your dog, Jambo - bare feet. You stomped on flowers you used to pick as a little girl, stomping on those silly fairytale dreams you used to nurse, and never felt freer. For the first time ever you felt that maybe being empty could be more freeing than having false hope weighing you down.

Returning to Hogwarts was a big deal to students. Who changed, who glowed up after what happened last year - nothing, it was all childish drama.

Before your parents could even see your new self, your escapade to the Granger household was successful. The Y/L/N's didn't care, nor did they write. You knew it should’ve hurt, but frankly, you didn’t think having the pain in your chest was worth it. Hermione was awestruck, of course, after laying her sights on you for the first time since May and insisted on walking into the Entrance Hall, arm in arm with her and Ginny to show you off like some sort of revelation.

It was a revelation all right, at least to the boys, and some girls. It seemed no one saw you as a girl before. George oogled, and Lee was so shocked to find out that you were actually a girl with a pretty figure and an even prettier smile that he stopped clapping you on the back like he always did. Not a girl, you have become a woman. It was far too sudden, new uniforms and a whole new wardrobe had to be bought.

"____? You were a girl?" Fred joked, ruffling your hair like nothing changed between you. And that's when you realized, no slutty skirt, how much pushup your bra, or no matter how pretty your hair looked, Fred would always see you as ____, the girl with crooked front teeth and who once ate a worm in second year. Your teeth weren't crooked at all anymore - thanks to a few years of braces - and finally clear of uncomfortable metals but you felt as if Fred would always see the ghost of them on your pearly whites when you smiled.

He had this view of you that blinded him, caused him to treat you as he treated Ginny while he flirted and played footsie with other girls, including Eva.

That did not stop Eva from giving you false hope, and you took the bait, naive like always. Hope, that's what ruined it all. "You're beautiful now, of course you have a chance!" she said, rubbing your shoulder reassuringly, as if she had warmth to begin with.

It was all false, yet you still believed. You always had. Like a fool.

Ginny didn't like Eva, and maybe that's why you gravitated towards her. She was the first person who had ever met Eva that wasn't charmed by her kind smile and attractive words. Eva was...displeased. She grew up having the attention of everyone around, so when Ginny Weasley told her straight to her face that she wasn't shit, Eva seethed. The attention of Ginny changed nothing though, because Eva was the main character. Everyone - except Ginny, and secretly Hermione (though she would never say it) - loved her, they followed her around like puppies and praised her on her wonky wand work.

The upcoming Yule Ball brought great upswing to Hogwarts.

You were far too busy with her classes to take interest in the tournament - even though the dragon race was the gnarliest sight you had ever seen. Your goal was set, become a badass Auror and move out as soon as possible, so you didn't have to face your parents (except Holidays, yuck.)

But the Yule Ball was your chance. A chance with Fred Weasley.

You could ask to go as friends and maybe, just maybe a little hope and the night would end much more romantic than you had anticipated.

Plucking up courage was the hardest part, you practiced with your bathroom mirror so long that Ginny had to blast through the door and drag you out of her dormitory.

Fred Weasley agreed, why wouldn't he? You, his closest friend, asking to go as a group and drink all night while gossiping? It was a win win. At least that's what you told herself.

That was a lie, it wasn't a win win.

You gave it your all getting ready, dress silk, makeup and expensive shoes. You took a long shower, scrubbing and shaving yourself to a smooth gliding porcelain, only for it all to be washed down with reddened eyes and a boy with even redder hair.

Fred greeted you the same, danced the same, and you chatted the same; you were reminded again, for the second time, that you stood no chance.

Fred told you that he was going to get drinks, a quick trip to the booth and mumbled I'll be back in a second. He was not back in a second. Several minutes passed, and your worries caused your feet to follow after Fred's footsteps.

You ran, trying to find him in the empty corridors of Hogwarts, tears welling in your eyes because he wouldn't. He wasn't that cruel, life wasn't that cruel.

But it was, and in a distant empty classroom you saw Fred Weasley, on his knees and between Eva's legs, groaning and praising her like a starved man. Worshipping her like everyone else had, burying himself in her and completely forgetting the drink he’d bring back in just a second. He’d left you thirsty and alone in the Great Hall and left you to drink from a cup he hadn’t known to be forbidden. Yet Eva did.

Eva's perfect dainty hands tangled in his ginger hair, thighs clamping shut while her high pitched moans flooded your mind and echoed around your head. They were so loud that she couldn’t even hear the loud echoes of your footsteps and the woeful cries that left your lips as you ran. It wouldn’t be the first time she had ignored your pain for her own selfish reasons.

Your heart shattered, and suddenly you were six again, watching your parents praise Eva, hang her drawing on the fridge. A soft breeze tickling your bare toes, dangling from the small cushioned seat you sat on while you watched Eva braid Mrs Y/L/N’s hair. Emotionless, silent, not asking for anything, knowing that you won't receive in return. Eva's small hands carefully placed the flower crown on Mrs Y/L/N’s pool of hair, and she smiled, heart warming and hopeful. Suddenly you remembered the feel of your own hands tangling in between your locks as you stood on your tiptoes, trying to imitate your mothers braid on yourself in the mirror you couldn't reach. You pretended, only for a moment before it twisted into knots.

What a cruel joke, you thought as you watched Eva receive the world from Fred, from your parents, from your friends and from every damn person you had met.

You cried on a big set of stairs that night, your wails echoing as you asked whoever, whatever what you had done. What you had done to deserve such treatment from the people around you. It was rather cliche - and maybe a bit too dramatic. It was an uncomfortable seat of course, and your body, as well as your heart, ached. Pain, misery, false hope and enough hair spray to melt the ozone.

The princesses always cried on big sets of stairs, uncomfortable stone floors causing them to shiver while they hid away their beautifully animated faces in their perfect hands. This was different, there was no fairy godmother to fix your makeup and clone a gentlemanly Fred Weasley, a perfect prince. You knew, because you cried, and prayed and cried and prayed until your throat was sore. There was no fairy godmother, it was all a lie. There was no happy ending. There would be none.

No one came to find you that night either, and you had to drag yourself back to the Gryffindor common room, feet bare, mascara, blush - anything else you put on in hopes of being able to become like Eva even only for one night - practically nonexistent from the way your tears washed them away.

You didn't sleep that night, and your head was unusually clear, pounding, but clear. You laid awake, eyes blood-shot and stinging while your dress shuffled uncomfortably between your sheets. You were too tired to change, and your dress was far too pretty to be worn so short.

Ginny's words replayed over and over again. "They're not worth it." her voice was so clear, and true. Mr and Mrs Burke weren't worth it. Your parents weren't worth it. Fred Weasley wasn't worth it. Eva wasn't worth it. The midnight chirping of bugs invited themselves in from your open window, and blue moonlight streaks beaming down in lines from the tulle curtain flowed with breeze, it was calming.

You felt calm, for the first time in sixteen years. You felt calm.

Fred and Eva started dating that week. Everyone acted like they expected it, and you realized just how blind you had been. Eva Burke and Fred Weasley, golden couple of Hogwarts.

You watched them, emotionless, as they embraced with love and so much passion that you felt embarrassed. Embarrassed at how you’d blushed and squeal over Fred in front of Eva and George and anyone who had found out because now you knew. Now you knew that their amused smiles were probably pitying grimaces because they knew that you two were never meant to be. It was always Fred and Eva.

Fred was an amazing boyfriend, making sure Eva was taken care of, lovingly staring at her whenever and wherever, arm looped around her waist at all times; you realized they were truly not worth it.

"You disgust me."

You didn't mean the words to escape so carelessly, but when you said them, you realized you didn't want to take them back. The growing pit in your stomach felt weightless. "Excuse me?" said Fred, stopping his nibbling on Eva's neck, who was just as shocked. You scoffed, Eva already had enough purple bruises to parade around so why did Fred have the need to add more?

"You heard me right," George, Lee, Ron, Harry, Katie and whoever sitting in their circle stared at you, wide-eyed, Ginny and Hermione, however, were grinning devilishly. Kind ____, wouldn't hurt a fly, quiet at times and didn't know how to stand up for herself. It was shocking, but you were done pretending. You didn't want to be like that anymore, you wanted to say whatever came to mind and not worry about the consequences. "You guys disgust me, I know I should be supportive but you don't match, at all."

You turned to George. "And you, no you can't talk about Katie like that." George went pink. "You're disgusting for sleeping around carelessly and telling girls you'd write, stop giving people false hope. Grow up. You’re nearly an adult and you can’t even treat a girl right."

"And you Lee," Lee went quiet. "What gives you the right to make fun of me like that. I'll wear whatever the fuck I want, just because you don't have the courage to wear a headband. If you can talk about my breasts, I'll talk about your shrimp."

"Ron, you take advantage of Hermione then lead her on. Open your eyes, asshole."

"Harry, you're not the main character. You're not always going to be the center of attention, nor do you have the right to yell at your friends."

"Alicia, god you're so stupid. I'm sorry, you're great but such an airhead. No, you can't ride a Thestral if you can't see them, and stop eating quill ink they're bad for you."

You stood up, grinning proudly, heart loud in your chest you feared someone might hear. "Frankly, I don't wanna be friends anymore. I'm done with this façade, except you two, 'Gin, Hermione. The rest of you are just so fake." she gestured to them. "Boys," she nodded again. "Don't talk to me anymore, and Lee, give me back the money, think it's about time don't you think? I've been paying for you since third year."

And with that, you left. You left Three Broomsticks, grin wide and chest heaving. Hermione and Ginny ran behind, whooping and cheering you on as they laughed.

The news of your outburst spread fast like wildfire caught in wind. That week was bliss, you no longer had to watch Fred and Eva, nor did you have to act sweet to anyone. You didn't have to laugh along Lee's sexist jokes and look away to wince, it was pure bliss. You realized that the feeling of being free didn’t have to be momentary.

Pansy Parkinson was surprisingly a good friend, she didn't have the same fakeness to her, the one Eva had where her smile was too kind. She spoke her mind, though every Slytherin did, and you liked that. Ginny wasn't happy with your new found friends, but she couldn't separate you. You made your own decisions from now on. It was refreshing.

You told your new friends everything, eager to get it off your chest and breathe, and they listened. For the first time, someone listened. You didn't have to get good grades, nor did you have to act like a sweet angel.

You teared up the first time Pansy said; "It's not your fault,". You knew it wasn't your fault, but hearing someone else say it with such genuine eyes made you believe. Actually believe.

It started off with you watching from the sidelines as Draco and Blaise pranked, insulted and shamed whatever your old friend group did. It wasn't unusual for Draco to act this way, but he got especially irritated after hearing what you told them. Blaise, someone usually quiet, had stepped up and decided to somehow release the pent up anger he had for the Gryffindor students.

The year ended, and you had started to sneak in an insult or two towards Fred and Eva. It felt nice, like finally, step by step you were clearing your years of hidden jealousy. But, there was no one to tell you that this simply wasn't the right way.

That summer, you stayed at the Burrow. Ginny had invited you and you were quick to say yes; obviously a fact forgotten. Fred, George and whoever you had insulted last year stayed in the same house. You simply didn't want to go home, and if this meant seeing Fred Weasley then you had to endure it.

Molly Weasley was the sweetest person you could ever meet, and it was genuine. It felt genuine, you feared your teeth might rot if the woman got another word in. Molly greeted you as if you were her own daughter she hadn't seen in years. You felt valued, seen.

Until Eva was there, Fred invited her. You had to watch the only person you were able to love, introduce the only person he was able to love to his mother. It wasn't you. It would never be you.

And you realized, even after everything, Eva had once again found a way to be more loved than you.

The grin Molly broke out was nothing short of beautiful, and you couldn't help but smile as well. The smile wasn't directed towards you of course, and you sat on that small kitchen chair, celebrating a relationship that caused your ruin.

Eva didn't care that your friendship was over, nothing budged in her life. She still got the same attention, still received the same love from Fred. The same affection, the same attention and the same everything. Or so it seemed.

Though unlike Eva, Fred merely watched you with sad eyes.

You stayed clear of the couple and the rest. You hung out with Ginny and Hermione only, ignoring the dirty looks Ron and Harry gave you. The secret, whispered insults Eva threw your way. George didn't say anything, but he didn't object either. This was enough to show how he felt. At this point you really didn't care. Why would you, when they didn’t either?

You held your head high just like Ginny and Hermione told you to, and you spoke in a loud and clear tone whenever asked something. Eva didn't, she stuttered when you spoke to her directly. Her words scrambled against each other when she tried to voice her insults in louder statements than a whisper. For the first time, you felt relief. You felt intimidating, protected by the barriers you had built around yourself.

Longest day of summer hit, and it boiled. Tanning became a distant dream, you would bake in this weather, and you were thankful to the big AC box you had brought from home. You couldn't sleep that night, sweat beads falling down your forehead that was already covered in a thin sheen. You had decided to get a cold glass of water, not sure how you ended up face to face with Fred Weasley. His wand tip shone with blue light, and his freckles were much darker because of the sun. It seemed the sun decided to be cruel to Fred Weasley back and wash Fred over with it's deathly heat. He was sunburnt, this was an understatement. He was burnt.

You couldn't help but start laughing when you met, ignoring the proximity, ignoring the sleeping house, dead silent and a big leap from the lively Burrow, ignoring Fred's soft breaths he let out every other second. You couldn't live off on false hope anymore.

Suddenly it wasn't so funny anymore, and your face quickly fell. You took a big step back and inhaled, ready to ignore him like you had been doing for the past year. But Fred Weasley was a persistent man, and he gripped your arm and looked at you with determined, doe-like eyes. "Tell me what I did wrong." he said, adamant on fixing this, whatever this was. You both didn't know.

You stood silent.

"Please flower,"

"Don't call me that." you said, stern and gaze sharp. Fred didn't react, he kept on insisting.

"Please, tell me how to fix this. I can fix it," he pleaded, a plethora of empty promises fell out of his lips like nothing. He lied like it was nothing, he was oblivious to everything he and everyone around them had put you through. It was infuriating.

You didn't say anything. You knew he would not fix anything but maybe staying silent would give him the false hope that spinned mockingly in your head for the past eighteen years.

"I'm sorry, just please. I can fix this, I promise, don't be like that." empty tears fell down from his eyes. He looked empty, tired. They lacked the charm they usually shined with and you wondered if it was only you that caused such dullness. Eye bags prominent that you never noticed before. It all felt like a lie, a cruel joke.

Fred Weasley was simply a cruel joke. His presence could only be compared to a shot of whiskey, especially when you down it like how Hagrid nurses a Firewhiskey filled pint glass. You never know how it will hit you. But in the end, you'd always find yourself curled next to the toilet, crying your eyes out because your headache was simply too much.

He was sobbing now, hanging onto your waist like you would simply vanish and you let him. The grip he had on was like steel vice - almost concerning - but you didn't touch him, didn't say anything. You just let him be, like he did to you. Allowed him to hopelessly hang off you before you would eventually leave him alone, like he did to you. "Where did I go wrong? How could we end up like this? What went wrong?"

‘You’, but your voice couldn’t be found.

Questions were useless when the answer was already right in front of his eyes. You didn’t let a single tear fall, you wouldn't forgive yourself if you cried in front of him.

You blinked, and that night was over. Summer continued on like nothing happened, like it didn't leave you heart broken and in such shame yet again. You continued on ignoring Fred as he looked at you with sorrowful eyes. Looked at you more, with more than he did his own girlfriend.

You blinked and the school year started again with another terror looming around the corner. There was simply no need to keep up anymore, because school was easy. You attended classes, got good grades, a few scar here and there from Umbridge's torture chamber, a woman who stood at a whopping five foot three yet still teriffied an entire school.

You blinked and you had already become a proud member of Draco's insult the Gryffindor's club. You didn't even feel bad, being horrible to the people you hated for years felt like a breath of fresh air. You didn't go as far as physically hurting any of your old friends, but coming up with damaging insults was such fun. A lot more fun than sitting around with a fake smile.

You blinked, and you were already moving out from your childhood house. Mr and Mrs Y/L/N were unusually happy, this was a given. They would have a new empty room and make another office, like they didn't have enough already. You feared they would start getting rid of bathrooms once too into their work, and they would have to do their business in bushes or buckets. Scratch that, you didn't fear that, it would be fucking hilarious.

You blinked, and when had time passed too quickly? Where did all those empty childhood years had gone? You were already graduating, on your way to become an Auror. You had lost contact with all your old friends now, regretfully Ginny and Hermione too.

The war had hit too quickly, luckily you survived, so did your friends. Unluckily, it left you with a nasty scar right across your left brow. It looked sick, but the hit wasn't worth it. It hurt like a bitch. You could see, it was a close call but vision wasn't an issue. The trauma though, god did Bellatrix's breath smell bad.

When it was all over, you had seen Fred hugging his family tightly. It seemed the Weasley's all survived, and you gave them each tight lipped smiles while holding a bunched up rag to your head to stop the blood gushing out. This wasn't the reunion you wanted to have with Ginny, but hey, you take what you can get after a revolutionary Wizarding war you barely made out alive.

Before a franticly running Fred could reach you though, you apparated to your flat in Diagon Alley, ignoring the thrumming of your heart, and how you practiced in front of a mirror to congratulate their successful joke shop that morning.

#angst #hp angst #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley fluff #fred weasley #fred weasley x y/n #weasley twins #fred weasley angst #fred weasley smut #fred weasley series #reader insert #harry potter fluff #harry potter fic #fred weasley imagine

[forever-rogue]

In Name Only - Part 14

A/N: Hello friends, I’m so excited to share another chapter of INO with you! I hope you still love it as much as I do! Please note, I did do some research for this chapter, so what you’re reading is pretty much historically accurate! As always, feedback and comments are welcome, and if you’d like to be tagged, let me know. xx

Pairing: Oberyn Martell x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 7.1k

Warnings: mentions of violence and injury

IN NAME ONLY SERIES MASTERLIST

MASTERLIST

»»————-　♡　————-««

The journey back to Sunspear took just shy of a week and was...surprisingly tranquil compared to your brief stay in Starfall. It was such a shame really, because it was a beautiful place and the people were kind, except for the lady of the house herself. She hadn’t been inherently mean, no, you’d be lying if you said she was, but she just rubbed you the wrong way. The very wrong way with her accusations and contrite words against your beloved.

When you had left, your eyes had scanned the wood for any signs of the mysterious woman you had met. You were still questioning your own mental state and really did wonder if you had imagined the whole thing. But surely...you hadn’t made it all up....

That morning at breakfast before your departure, you politely declined the tea that was placed in front of you without so much as a word. Oberyn had glanced in your direction for just a moment but if his suspicions were raised, he didn’t show it. When you had departed, he had briefly asked what happened and you were upfront with him as you had vowed to be. You had nothing to hide from him, and no reason to ever feel the need, so why would you now?

“Moon tea,” you had told him calmly with a shrug of your shoulders as his left eyebrow arch raised in surprise as it was prone to doing. He opened his mouth to say something but you stopped him by gently putting your hand on his chest and giving him a small kiss, “don’t worry...there’s no need. Even if I thought….I could, I would not take it, dear husband.”

“Is that what the hurry to leave is about?” he asked quietly, an arm protectively finding its way around your waist. Stiffening for a moment, you gave him a small nod as he cast a furtive glance back at the castle, “did she do anything to you?”

“No,” you insisted, deciding to leave out the little detail that you had in fact drank the tea yesterday in a moment of confusion and worry, “she just...she drinks it in order to keep from falling pregnant by other men. Apparently she and her husband do not have great relations and she knows she can only have a child when there is no doubt that it is his heir.”

“Oh,” he said softly as you nodded, making sure that no one overheard your private conversations. If something was going to be spilling their secrets, you were going to make sure it was not you, “I see...why would she encourage you to drink it? We are married.”

A small pit formed in your stomach as you looked at him, offering him a soft smile before touching his cheek gently. He keened as into your warmth as he always did, and your heart felt like it broke a little. All the nasty accusations thrown out about him were disgusting and you would never allow anyone to do such a thing again. Next time you would have a more rigid backbone.

“She…” you trailed for a moment as you looked at him, finding his honeyed eyes watching you intently, “I love you, Oberyn. You know that, right?”

“Of course, my sunshine,” he promised, pressing a feather light kiss to the palm of your hand, “and I love you. More and more every passing day.”

“Lady Dayne is not immune to gossip and appears to love stirring up trouble when there is no need,” you decided to leave it at that as you walked over to your horses, pulling Oberyn along behind you. Part of you hoped he would leave it, let it go and be done with it, but you knew your husband better than that. He was silent as he helped you on your mare before mounting his steed. You could practically feel his eyes boring into you, so you turned to him, “Oberyn. People talk and spread rumors of things they know nothing about…”

“About me,” he said meekly, causing you to nod, “about-”

“It does not matter to me,” you cut him short, “I know the truth, you know the truth, and the people that matter do as well. That’s all that matters.”

“What aren’t you telling me?” just as you were growing proficient at reading him, he was the same with you.

“She said you would grow bored of me soon and then toss me to the side,” you finally admitted, “that you would tire of me once I am no longer shiny and new and find another plaything.”

Oberyn’s mouth hung open ever so slightly as his heart seemed to break slightly at your words - the shake to your voice. He reached for your hand and took it in his much larger one, giving it a tight squeeze, “that is not true. None of it. I-I -”

“I know, Oberyn,” you promised gently, almost wishing you hadn’t said anything at all at the upset look on his face, “that is what I meant - she likes to worry about things that do not concern and stir the pot when there is no need. I don’t like the lies or the negativity, which is largely the reason for my request for a sudden departure.”

“You know I would never do that to you,” he said softly, “that is not who I am, and I would not-”

“You have never given me a reason to doubt you, my love,” you insisted. He hadn’t; in fact he proved to you that you were his and he was yours, countless times, starting with when you had worried about a possible reconciliation with Ellaria, “and I do not. I have told you, as you have me, that if there comes a time when you wish to...take another lover you can do so.”

“That won’t happen,” he promised with an air of finality, “no one could take away the shine from my sunshine, not even on the most dreary of days, You have me, heart and soul forever, sweet girl.”

“You are a poet as much as a warrior and diplomat, my Prince,” you could practically feel yourself glowing under his praise as a gentle warmth flushed all over you, “I would be a fool to ever doubt your devotion.”

“Indeed you would,” he agreed with a small smirk, a bit of playfulness returning to his features. He spurred the steed on as he broke away from you, causing you to laugh before you chased after him. You would never have to worry about his love - that much you knew in your heart and soul. 

»»————-　♡　————-««

"Oh," the words crashed around your ears like a ton of bricks as you tried your best to keep a neutral expression on your face. The look on his was nothing but apologetic but the words still stung. You had just returned to Sunspear the evening before and here he was, ready to depart again. Although you had spent countless hours together recently, it didn't take this any easier. You'd spend all the hours of all your days with him if you could, “oh.”

"I am terribly sorry, my love," he said as you nodded, "Doran just informed me - apparently this is one of those times when I get no say in anything. But he's too poorly to travel right now, so I must take his place instead as it my duty as both his brother and as the Prince.”

"What about Arianne?" you pouted at him slightly, a last bit of a desperate plea to get him to stay as you tried to keep your lip from trembling too much. 

"She is coming with me," he said gently, "she's learning, but she still needs guidance sometimes..."

"And what about me?" you asked as he sighed lightly, not at you, but the situation rather, "its safe, right? Now that the young Stark is King? There's no need to worry-"

"Sunshine," he said gently but with a firm as he reached up and put his hand on the back of your neck, "please, please just listen to me. I know it seems safe, but there are always dangers out there. People will try anything to tear each other down, and in other parts of the kingdom they will not hesitate to do so, with or without the Stark King and Queen in the North. I just want you here...where I know I will come back to you safe and sound."

"What about you?" you were misty eyed by now as you tried to retain whatever little bit of composure you had to begin with, "what if something happens to you? I would never forgive myself-"

"Nothing will happen to me," he promised as he rested his forehead against yours, gently wiping away the few tears that had rolled down your cheeks,  "no one would dare tread on the Red Viper. I will always, always, come back to you in one piece."

"Promise?" you asked meekly as you let your lips graze against his ever so slightly. You could feel his tug into a minute smile as he nodded; you never wanted to let him go.

"Always."

"And you'll be careful?"

"Of course."

"And you'll take Jeron and the best of your men with you?"

"Who will that leave you with here?" 

"I have Asha," you reminded him of your young handmaiden that you adored beyond measure. You had been glad to reunite with her after almost a month apart, "and besides. I have all of Dorne at my side."

"I'm sorry about leaving so soon," he whispered as his hand started to slowly roam your body, pulling a small gasp from your lips, "I will make my stay as short as possible."

"Please do," you said softly, trying to stifle the moan from spilling last your lips, as he started to place light kisses along your jaw and neck, "I want you back here, in one piece as quickly as possible. I love you..."

"I love you too, sweet girl," he promised, "before I leave, let me show you how much..."

»»————-　♡　————-««

“What’s wrong?” Alistair asked, tugging lightly on your skirts as you turned to look at him. The small boy was watching you with wide, gentle eyes as he held a half eaten cookie in his hand. Your heart melted at the sight, and you quickly bent down to kiss the top of his dark, curly hair. You thought you had been masking your sadness and worry well enough, but apparently your efforts were not enough. It was hard enough to hide anything from a child anyway. 

“Nothing, sweet boy,” you promised him, although the lie felt weak on your tongue and out loud, lingering slightly too long in the warm Dornish air, “I suppose I’m just a bit tired.”

“Are you sure?” he asked as you nodded, but before either of you could say anything else, he stretched out his hand to you, the cookie still in it, “do you want this? Cookies always make me feel better.”

“You…” you didn’t have it in your heart to say no, so you took the cookie and bit off a piece before offering him the remainder, which he eagerly accepted. The two of you ate it in silence, and you felt a wave of emotion wash over you, and there was only a moment of hesitation before you scooped him up in your arms and held him tightly to your chest. He quickly snuggled up to you, “you are an absolute sweetheart. Thank you so much.”

“You just looked sad,” he said softly, “my sister always gives me cookies when I’m sad.”

“Well that’s very wise of you,” you said softly, putting him back down, “now, why don’t you go outside and play with the other kids? It’s a beautiful day.”

“Okay,” he agreed, going to the door to start heading out but quickly turned back to you, “if you’re still sad, you can come out and play with us!”

“Thank you,” you shot him a wink as he laughed, giving you a wave before he ran out into the warm, golden sunlight. 

“The stress weighs heavy on you,” Asha commented as she came back, causing you to give  her a tightlipped smile, “it is best not to worry.”

"How am I not to worry, Asha?" you mused as you started to cut up fresh fruit for a snack for the children, making it a point to avoid the berries that reminded you so much of your husband. Your hands were trembling slightly as you tried to focus on keeping your knife cuts neat and clean, "it has been over a fortnight since I have heard from Oberyn. This isn't like him..."

"Perhaps he's just very preoccupied," she offered, coming over to your side and motioning for you to hand her the knife. Sighing lightly, you gave it to her as doubts swirled your mind, "business can take longer than usual sometimes."

You huffed slightly as you leaned against the counter, "Arianne is home and safe...while couldn't the fool come back with her?"

"It will be okay," she insisted although she too was getting mildly worried. It wasn't like Oberyn to just seemingly drop off the face of the planet like this.

"What if it's not?" you tried not to cry and have a complete breakdown, "what if he's hurt o-or worse? What if he's..."

"Stop," she stated firmly, such an edge to her voice that your head snapped into her direction. The young woman seemed surprised by her own sharpness and she set down the knife and gave you an apologetic look, but you just shook your head, "Oberyn is not...he couldn't be. He's the Red Viper...he wouldn't just die."

Your lower lip started to tremble as you tried not to completely lose it. The idea that Oberyn could possibly be harmed, or even worse...dead was a possibility that you refused to fully accept. Something was causing a delay, you were sure of it. Oberyn wouldn't just...leave. Or unnecessarily delay his return. Right? Right. So then why were you questioning it?

"You're right," you agreed quietly, trying to hide the worry and concern in your voice. She didn't need to worry unnecessarily, and if she saw you worrying, she likely would also. You had to remain strong, for her, for everyone else, and most importantly for yourself. That was your job now, as his wife and one of the heads of the Martell family. You swallowed the lump in your throat before hastily pulling off your apron and tossing it onto the counter, "you're right, Asha. Its Oberyn - he would never let anything happen to him. If his return is delayed, its for a reason. A good one."

"Are you-"

"Stay here," you gave her shoulder a gentle touch, "please finish up my duties for the day. I have to return to the palace...I just remembered that I was to see Doran this afternoon."

»»————-　♡　————-««

Practically sprinting back to the palace, you pulled up your skirts and ignored the curious looks of the people you passed by. You didn’t care, nothing in that moment mattered besides getting back to Doran giving him a little surprise inquisition. He had been calm, terribly calm, the whole Oberyn time had been gone. If he thought something had happened to his young brother, he would have been worried, surely. Doran, you had come to realize, was a lot of things. He was a good man - smart, kind, funny at times, but above all else he was a man that was deeply devoted to his family. Just like all the Martells were; it was a trait that was strong through with all of them. Doran had to know something.

You waved off all the inquisitive shouts of your name and made a beeline for Doran’s study, opening the door without hesitation. You must have startled him greatly because the book that was in his hands fell and tumbled to the desk, and he made a small sound of surprise. Taking a moment to gather himself, he earmarked the page he was on, something that would greatly wound Oberyn if he was there to witness it, before setting it down and softly saying your name before turning to you. You could see that there was just a glint of nerves in his eyes.

“Where is Oberyn?” you asked him before slamming the door shut and striding over to his desk, a look of rage and anger on your face as your chest heaved up and down. Doran’s face paled as he opened and closed his mouth a few times, trying to figure out how to answer you. Putting your hands on his desk, you stared the older man down, “where is my husband?!”

“My dear, there is no reason to worry,” he insisted softly, trying to calm you down before you flew into an even bigger fit of rage. It was in that moment that he saw a little of Oberyn in you and he wondered if it was him rubbing off on you or your true self coming out. In reality, you were a calm, composed person, not prone to sudden mood swings, but now, in between your worry and fear, you were beyond yourself, “Oberyn is fine.”

“How can you be so sure?” you asked softly, a dangerous edge to your words, “unless you’ve been speaking with him or you know something I don’t. Now tell me, why wouldn’t my husband tell me where he was or what he was doing?”

“Sometimes the nature of these things is confidential and they can take time and-”

“I’m his wife,” you reminded him firmly, “he has nothing to hide from me - he wouldn’t. If you won’t tell me what is going I’ll just go to King’s Landing myself and find him.”

“You wouldn’t-”

“Try me,” you straightened up and crossed your arms over your chest as you stared him down, “who would dare to stop me? As much as I would hate to resort to this, I will use whatever pull I have, and I don’t think people would argue with Oberyn Martell’s wife.”

“You mustn’t resort to that,” he insisted quietly and you felt relieved and yet...you could see that he was still struggling with something. You signed lightly before softening your expression and coming to the conclusion that you might have gone on too fast and too hard, “I know where he is.”

“Oh,” you said in a surprised tone as you tried to figure out if that was a positive or negative thing, “oh. You knew this whole time? And y-you didn’t think to tell me?”

“It is was nothing to concern yourself over-”

“My husband is gone for weeks longer than he should be, I have been worried day and night and you didn’t think i should be concerned? If you’d at least have told me what was going on I wouldn’t be so upset!” you threw your hands up in exasperation, “I just...I don’t care about anything, but I just want to make sure he’s okay. That’s all that matters.”

“After he and Arianne finished their business in King’s Landing, Oberyn turned his attention to Old Town,” he explained as you almost jumped back in surprise. 

“Old Town,” you repeated slowly, almost not able to believe the words he was saying. Your mouth opened and closed a few times as you tried to process the news, “Old Town...that’s the Reach...right by Honeyholt. Why on earth would he go there….without me? That’s my home...he didn’t mention…”

“He did not disclose his business to me either,” Doran admitted with a feeble sound from the back of his throat, “I pressed him to tell me and he refused. I encouraged the fool to tell you and he refused. Oberyn is a stubborn man when he wants to be and will not be forced into doing anything he does not fancy. I am sorry for I too have been a fool. I should have told you sooner - when he first informed me of his extended stay.”

“I just don’t...understand,” you admitted quietly, “what is there for him in Old Town? There’s nothing or there’s....”

Brothels. Plenty of them. Old Town was famous for many things but the most predominant things were by far the Citadel and the brothels that littered the land amply. You couldn’t even bring yourself to say the word out loud.

“Yes,” Doran acknowledged as you held out a hand out to steady yourself. You weren’t mad, you weren’t angry…you were just surprised. Surprised that he hadn’t told you of his whereabouts, of his intentions, of anything really. You were sure that you could tell him anything and vice versa. But apparently you had been mistaken, “I am sorry, young one. But I would not worry about his safety or well-being. He should return soon, and I am sure in one piece. The rumors about him...his tendencies...I would not worry about them. They’re just rumors - folly.”

“Of course, Your Highness,” you pulled your trembling lips into a tight smile in order to keep yourself from crying. You felt like a fool - not because you had trusted or loved Oberyn, you still did to both, but for worrying for nothing. It was not your position to be angry for taking solace in the comfort of other beds if that was indeed what he had done. You’d made that clear many, many times. But you wished he would have told you something, anything instead of keeping you waiting around. 

“Do not worry-”

“I am not worried,” you insisted meekly, “not anymore. As long as I know he’s safe, that’s all that matters to me.”

“You do not have to worry about his devotion to you-”

“Lady Martell?” the door to Doran’s slowly opened and a young man who recognized from around the palace grounds stuck his head in. You quieted any sniffles that had welled up and quickly dabbed at your wet eyes before turning to him. You offered him the warmest smile you could muster up as he looked between you and the older prince, clearly sensing that something heavy had just been discussed, “I-I’m sorry to interrupt. The Maester asked me to summon you.”

The Maester. Of course. In your haste and worry over your husband, you’d completely forgotten that you’d agreed to go and see the Maester that very afternoon. Sighing lightly, you nodded at him, “let him know I will be there in just a few moments.”

“The Maester?” Doran asked as you refused to meet his eyes, “is everything alright, my dear?”

“Quite,” you answered softly, “I suppose I will see you at dinner then. I-I’m sorry for coming and causing a scene for no reason.”

“There is no need for apologies,” he insisted as you offered a curt nod in response before seeing yourself out of his study. You did want to pity yourself and your foolish heart, but you didn’t have time for that now. That would wait until later, when you were in your chambers by yourself. 

Straightening your shoulders, you tried to hold yourself as tall as possible as you crossed the palace grounds in search of the Maester. You’d never met him before, but you were sure that he would be as kind as everyone else in Dorne. You just weren’t so thrilled that you’d have to meet him in this state. It was no matter though, he was the Maester after all, he’d likely seen much worse.

»»————-　♡　————-««

You knocked on the door to the Maester’s chambers and were quickly called in but not by a voice you had been expecting - it was a soft woman’s voice. Stepping inside, you looked around the beautiful sunlight quarters, already feeling at ease. Scanning the rooms you saw all sorts of vials and bottles containing liquids and concoctions of all different colors and consistencies. The soft, delicate scent of warm spices lingered in the air. At the other end of the large room you saw a woman, modestly dressed with a kind face that appeared to be around Oberyn’s age motioning for you to close the door.

“Lady Martell,” she said gently as she came over to you and held out her hand. Still confused, you reached out and shook it, “it’s a pleasure to finally meet you.”

“Y-you’re the Maester?” you asked as she slowly nodded. You shouldn’t have been surprised you realized - this was Dorne after all. Women could be anything they wanted here and were not subject to the harsh realities that most other parts subjected them to. In some ways you were relieved that you were here with another instead of a man. 

“Selsa,” she introduced herself as you told her your name, although you were unsure if it was really necessary. She had a warm, comforting presence and some of the tension who had been holding in your shoulders seemed to ease up, “and don’t worry, I was trained by a man-”

You laughed lightly at her little quip as she tried to get you to calm down, “it matters not. I trust you more than any man outside of Dorne. I have no reason to doubt your prowess simply because you are a woman, do I? That would be foolish of me.”

“A forward thinking woman from the North,” she said as she offered you a seat in the soft, plush velvet sofa she had near the window. You sat down it and the cushion deflated slightly, almost as if it was sighing along with you, “that must be why the Prince and all of Dorne adores you so.”

“I am but one mere woman,” you played it off, but you would not lie and say you didn’t appreciate the sentiment, “I just happened to get lucky.”

“Either way,” she said as she stood near you, “we are glad to have you here in Dorne. I hear you have fit in very well. Now tell me, what can I possibly assist with?”

You played with a loose thread of fabric for a moment, twisting it in your fingers as you wondered where to begin. You opened and closed your mouth a few times, and waited patiently for you to speak, “umm...children, I-I suppose. It’s just that for the moment. I want to...would like to...know if there was any way to know if I can have children. If there’s any chance of my husband and I...having one of our own.”

“Oh,” she seemed mildly surprised by your request, but her expression didn’t change or do anything to suggest her shock or that she was appalled. You just gave her a light shrug as she came over and sat down next to you, “well, there are some ways we can try and see. However, right now, there’s no definite way to know...I guess unless you are actively trying and it never happens. The things we can do are strong indicators but they're not exact. Does that make sense?”

“Yes,” you agreed quietly, “sure, whatever it is, we can try it. I figure either way I’ve got nothing to lose.”

“I just have a few questions to get my bearings, “ she said as you motioned for her to ask, “do you menstruate regularly and for how long?”

“Yes...if I remember correctly since around my thirteenth year.”

“Have you ever had excessive bleeding or anything to concern you about it?”

“No.”

“Were you with anyone before your husband?” she asked, “sometimes when a couple is newly trying it can take a while for things to pan out…”

“We-we’re not trying,” you admitted almost sheepishly, “I-I just want to know...probably for my own peace of mind. But I was with someone before...he and I…”

“No need to expand,” she took your hand in hers and gave it a gentle squeeze, “it’s okay. Let me guess - you were not careful to try and prevent a pregnancy?”

“No,” you scoffed at yourself lightly before the two of you laughed, “we were young fools in love and it was never something I worried about. But I’m sure if it was a possibility it should have happened…”

“Hmm,” she mused quietly before standing up and walking over to the other end of the room. She rummaged around for a moment, leaving you to wonder what she was up to, before coming back with a large clay pot. She stopped by one of the large cabinets and pulled something out before chucking it into the pot. When she was satisfied with her handiwork, she stood in front of you and held out the pot to you, “I hope you have to urinate.”

“Pardon?”

“It’s an old test,” she explained as you curiously took the pot, “it’s been around for generations, used by Maesters and healers to check for fertility. Like I said. It’s old and far from exact, but it’s the best thing we’ve got to work with for now. “

“Oh...so you want me to pee? In that pot...”

“Yes!” she said as you just raised your eyebrows at her, “I put some bran into the bottom and you just pee on it. Then we leave it alone for about a week and come back and check it. If there’s nothing there and its clear, it means you are fertile, otherwise if things like bugs or worms get into it, it is supposed to suggest infertility.”

“That’s…odd,” you almost laughed at the little test, finding it hard to believe that people still used it. It sounded absolutely loony, but if people had been using it for this long...maybe it was accurate. Either way, you decided, you had nothing to lose and your bladder was pretty full. “I guess it can’t hurt anything.”

“It’s up to you, My Lady,” she promised and you stood up nodding affirmatively. 

“I’ll do it,” you decided, “besides if nothing else it will be an interesting experiment, no?”

“Indeed,” she agreed, showing you to the room she used as a bathroom, “take your time and when you’re done you can just leave it in there. I’ll keep it safe for the week and we can take a look once the time has passed.”

“Sure,” you were nervous suddenly, and wondered just how accurate this would all be. Part of you was also scared that it would confirm the long buried doubt and fear you’d always had, “thank you…”

“It is no problem,” she promised, “and nothing to worry or fear over. We know here that some things are what they are and we cannot change them. The ability to conceive and carry a child does not define you, or anyone else. It does not define your heart or your character - remember that.”

“Thank you,” you answered quietly, relieved and comforted by her kind words. She knew what it would have been had you been married to another man in another part of the kingdom. 

“Of course, and don’t worry. This will stay strictly between the two of us,” you gave her a thankful look, “and once you’re back, if you don’t mind, I’d like to take a look at everything in more depth. Just to make sure everything appears as it should.”

“Whatever you need to do,” you agreed, “I guess I just want some answers…”

“And we shall get them for you,” she insisted, “as best as we can.”

»»————-　♡　————-««

Pushing the sheer curtains to the side, you immediately felt a wave of calm wash over you at the sunlight streaming into your chambers. There was a gentle, warm breeze, and everything was illuminated. You decided to change your linens, making it a point to keep things fresh and tidy for whenever Oberyn came back. It had been several more days since your conversation with Doran and there was still no word. You weren't worrying but -

"My lady," the door to your chambers practically burst open and Asha tumbled inside in her haste, almost falling to the floor. Rushing over to her, you held out your hand in order to straighten her up.

"What's with the rush?" you asked, taking her face in your hands and looking her over to make sure she was okay. Besides her erratic breathing and wild look in her eyes she appeared to be okay, "Asha?"

"It's the Prince," she managed to get out, "he's returned."

You could tell that something was wrong almost immediately. Dropping your hands from her face you ran past her, the linens already forgotten and discarded on the floor. You almost tripped over your skirts in your haste to run down the stairs, bounding them down two at a time as you rushed to get outside. 

Your heart was bouncing around in your chest wildly as  you tried to calm the horrible thoughts already racing in your mind. Every awful little thing that you could have happened was screaming as you burst out of the palace and through the throng that had gathered near the returned retinue.

“Oberyn!” you shouted at the top of your lungs as you spied his carriage and the crowd that was closely surrounding him. Jeron spotted you and his face, which was already in a grim expression seemed to fall even more. He tried to come over and grab you, in order to keep you from rushing straight to Oberyn’s side. His long strides made it easy and you were quickly held back in his strong grip. A small sound of frustration left you lips as you tried to pull away from him, clambering for any glimpse at your husband, “Jeron! Let me go! Oberyn-”

“You need to stop,” he said as calmly as he could, his heart breaking at the sight of the tears that were welling up in your eyes, “please, listen to me.”

“No,” you insisted firmly, “you listen to me! He is my husband and I want to see him!”

“Please, please,” he was practically begging you, a shake to his own voice as you gave up on trying to keep the tears that had pearled up from running over. You were a mess of emotion and all you cared about was seeing Oberyn. You stilled lightly and he dropped his voice, “listen for just a moment. H-he’s hurt. Badly.”

“No,” it was a choked out sob as your worst fears came true. This was what you had been worried from the start, from the moment that he first told you he was leaving again. The fact that he had been gone longer, that he had made a stop unbeknownst to you didn’t matter. Nothing mattered, absolutely nothing except making sure he was okay, “y-you’re lying! He’s...he can’t be hurt...”

“He’s in bad shape right now,” he said softly, an incredulous tone in his voice at the thought that the famed warrior ended up hurt, “I don’t know if you want to see him right now.”

“Oberyn,” his name well forth from your lips as you took advantage of his moment of indiscretion and pulled out of his grip and to the carriage. You shoved anyone who was in your way out of it and pushed to see Oberyn. You heard shouts of your name from Jeron, but you didn’t care - you needed to be by his side.

When the crowd seemed to part, already offering you pitying looks of sorrow you found yourself in front of Oberyn. He was sprawled out on a makeshift stretcher, and even if Jeron hadn’t told you that he was in bad shape, it was immediately apparent. His normally bright, bronze skin was paled and his chest was rising slowly, too slowly. No longer dressed in his normal regalia, but a simple pair of trousers and tunic, light in color, just enough so you could see the blood that had gotten on them from his abdomen. His face was covered in a sheen and his hair mused, a few lacerations on his face. He was not in bad shape - he was in horrible shape. 

Your knees felt like they were going to buckle at any moment and you couldn’t help the almost hysterical cry that left your lips as lunged towards him. Several of his retinue tried to keep you back, but you were too quick for them. You dropped to your knees as you reached for his face to gently grab it and try to pull him towards, tears flowing freely as  you blabbered incomprehensibly at him. He didn’t even open his eyes as you touched his face and leaned down so your forehead was pressed against his. The tears spilled from your eyes to on his cheeks, mixing in with the sweat that was covering his whole body, “O-Oberyn. No, no, no, please, please-”

“You have to get back,” someone insisted as you turned around and glared at him, not even caring that you were making a scene. A small ground had gathered around to see what all the excitement was about, and they were shamelessly staring. How dare someone tell you that you couldn’t be by your husband’s side, “he’s poorly-”

You quickly stood back up to your full height, wiping away the tears and summoning up as much of a commanding presence that you could manage. You are a Martell now, you reminded yourself, you have to be strong. And you would be damned if you allowed someone to tell you what to do when it came to Oberyn. Jeron rushed back over to you and stood by your side as you walked up to the man that had tried to stop you, “exactly. He’s hurt and he needs help! Get him inside and into bed now. Jeron - fetch the Maester immediately and tell her he needs help. We have to help him and quickly! The crowd needs to go and we need to tend him right now. Move!”

Without another word Oberyn’s men listened to your instructions and quickly sprung into action. It was almost like they had been shell shocked at the Prince’s state that they had somehow forgotten what to do. But in your state of panic, your wild thoughts somehow worked themselves out and you experienced a moment of clarity. Gods knew you wanted to fall apart then and there, but you could do that right now. Making sure Oberyn was safe and well was the first priority. 

You watched silently as the men carefully brought Oberyn inside and brought him to your bedroom. You trailed after them, wondering what could possibly have happened to cause such injuries to him. You knew he had enemies, hells, everyone in the Seven Kingdoms had at least one enemy, but you never thought someone would be so bold as to openly harm him. If anything happened to Oberyn, it would be enough to incite a war - if not by your hand, then by the people of Dorne. 

Time seemed to still in that moment as you tried your best to keep calm and not completely panic. You needed to be strong for yourself, for him, and for the rest of the family. Once he was settled in bed, and you waited for the Maester to come, you kneeled at his side, taking his hand ever so gently in yours, lacing your fingers together. You weren’t alone, several people were still milling about and monitoring him, but you didn’t care. 

“Oberyn,” you whispered softly as you pressed a kiss to his palm, “my love, my moon and stars. Please just...just hang on. You will be okay. I promise. I won’t let anything happen to you. And when I find out who did this to you, I will make them pay. They will rue the day they dared to cross the Martells.”

He remained still as ever, and you wondered if he could even hear you. You hoped he could, in your heart of hearts you believed he could. Someone came in and brought some clean rags and water and you quickly set to wiping the sweat from his brow and cleaning the cuts on his face. They didn’t seem very deep and mostly superficial, which gave you the slightest sense of relief. When you were satisfied with that, you moved to pull off his tunic, deciding in your haste to just rip it off instead of trying to slip it over his head and disturbing him more. Your heart felt like it was seized up at the sight of the bandages, bloodied bandages, on his side. It was enough to make your stomach churn in horror as you wondered what was underneath. 

But before you could reach for them to inspect the damage, Sesla entered the room and quickly came to your side. You were grateful for her comforting presence and easily let her take over, pulling you to her help before quickly hugging you, “it will be okay, I promise. Nothing will strike down the Red Viper. I will make sure of it.”

“Please,” was all you managed to choke out as she turned to tend to Oberyn. You made a small, almost helpless sound as you watched her get to work. Jeron was standing in the doorway and his presence seemed to calm you down immensely. You strode over to him and he let out a long sigh. 

“I have failed you,” he said quietly as you shook your head, otherwise remaining silent. You gave his shoulder a squeeze as you realized that he must have been beating himself up over his. He was one of, if not the most, trust man Oberyn had, and yet...he was the one injured, “I promise you he’d come safe and I promised him that I’d return him safely to you. I have failed you both and now he lies in this state because of me.”

“No one could have known -”

“I am sworn to protect him,” he scoffed at himself, “and I have failed. I should be excused from his service and sent into exile.”

“Jeron,” you insisted firmly, “it was not your fault. I know you would do anything to keep him safe if you could. Right now we both need to be strong for him.”

“Yes.”

“Can you...do you know who did this?” you asked quietly as he seemed to tense up, swallowing the lump in his throat. 

“Yes…”

“Who?” you asked quietly and he made a small sound in the back of his throat. You could sense his reluctance to tell you the truth, “Jeron...who did this? Who hurt Oberyn?”

“Your family,” he answered so quietly you almost didn’t hear him. But once you realized what he said you felt like you had been hit in the face with a stone. Your hand went to your chest as you tried to wrap your mind around it, “it was your brother. He attacked him under the cover of night.”

You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. Your husband was lying in front of you, on death’s doorstep because of your brother. 

Your world felt like it was slowly crashing down around you. 

»»————-　♡　————-««

Permanent Taglist: @secretsweetscollectionblog  @sheridans-dynamos   @rogerfxckingtaylor  @queenbbarnes  @persephonesnebula @spacedustmazzello    @ah-callie  @blushingwueen  @thisis-theway @el-lizzie  @rosetophighlander  @rae-gar-targaryen    @hiscyarika  @readsalot73  @huliabitch  @ollyoxenfrees @coffeeandtodd  @beepbeepsephy  @gooddaykate  @scarlettwitcher  @nerdyknightwritersblog  @choicesarcade  @arrowswithwifi  @everythingaboutnothingstuff  @24kgoldentip  @suckerfor-fanfics  @bestintheparsec @pedrosdoll  @winters-buck @javihoney  @aeryntheofficial  @hail-doodles @engineeredfiction @aeryntheofficial  @asgardianvamp21  @keithseabrook27  @karmezii  @dearspacepirates  @thatsuitlooksgoodonyou  @shameless-pope @paintballkid711 @mrpascals

INO Taglist: @captainskyline  @scarlettvonsass  @hail-doodles  @unadulteratedneckherolover @the-cult-classic-bitch  @adlerorzel-blog  @rika-cchi  @theocatkov  @thatsuitlooksgoodonyou  @whiskeyxinxaxteacup  @shayna-winchester​  @xxlovingfandomsxx  @ohsnapitsjanet   @phoenixhalliwell​ @roxypeanut​  @imnotmentallyst4ble​  @catsnkooks  @misslolasworld  @lalablue0​  @starlight-starwrites​ @cielphantomhixe​  @lady-tano  @simonedk​  @asgardianvamp21​  @earthtokace​  @thelastemzy​  @indelwen-of-mirkwood​  @gamingaquarius​  @maytheglitter​  @apples-of-february​  @prettyjewel93​  @valhallavalkyrie9​  @hystericalmedicine​  @miraelles  @ohpedromypedro​ @afleetingdream91​ @cheesecake-manufacturer @cryptkeepersoul​  @onlineluna​  @littlefool-smalljester​  @imnotmentallyst4ble​ @shelbythequeen @witchstarw​ @mrscrain-x7​  @songsformonkeys​  @kiaralein​  @liadamerondjarin  @purpletoadslimeeclipse​ @rpcvliz @knittingqueen13  @jaime1110  @voteforpedropascal @demoncrypt1066 @klaine-92 @goth-pigeon @rogueonestan @kiwibaekie @lv7867 @toilet-keeper @kid-from-new-zealand @stillshelbs @buckythewhitewolfx @justanotherblonde23 @dammn-dean @april-14-blog @ghostwiththemostbitch @godohammers @theoutsidelandhere​

#oberyn x reader #oberyn martell x reader #oberyn martell #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #in name only

[demonlovesangel]

Elucien VS Elriel throughout the books

Brace yourselves because this is going to be a LONG post but I'm going to do it because people seem to disregard Elain's feelings at all times, especially regarding how she reacts around both Lucien and Azriel. So here we go!

And by the way I'm only going to count actual interactions to make it fair, and the most important ones because if not I would be here all day.

Acomaf

Elucien

As Lucien took off his jacket, kneeling before Elain. She cringed away from the coat, from him-

~

But Elain was staring over Nesta's shoulder.

At Lucien- whose face she had finally taken in.

Elriel

Elain said, "It's all very disorienting."

"I can imagine," Azriel said. Cassian flashed him a glare but Azriel's attention was on my sister, a polite bland smile on his face. Her shoulders loosened a bit.

~

Rhys chuckled, Cassian's wrath slipping enough that he grinned, and Elain, noticing Azriel's ease as proof that things weren't indeed about to go badly, offered one of her own as well.

In Acomaf we can see the start of both relationships, but they start with a real difference. Elain and Azriel get along from the very beginning, whereas with Lucien she cringes away because he's one of the reasons she was turned and she doesn't know him, even if she did realize he's her mate.

With Azriel though they talk about his flying, how beautiful it is, she smiles and asks him directly every time. Their interactions come naturally.

Acowar

Elucien

For a long moment, Elain's face did not shift, but those eyes seemed to focus a bit more. "Lucien," she said at last, and he clenched his teacup to keep from shuddering at the sound of his name on her mouth. "From my sister's stories. Her friend."

"Yes."

But Elain blinked slowly. "You were in Hybern."

"Yes." It was all he could say.

"You betrayed us."

He wished she'd shoved him out of the window behind her. "It- it was a mistake."

Her eyes went frank and cold. "I was to be married in a few days."

~

She looked away- towards the windows. "I can hear your heart," she said quietly.

He wasn't sure how to respond, so he said nothing, and drained his tea, even as it burned his mouth.

"When I sleep," she murmured, "I can her your heart beating through the stone." She angled her head, as if the city held some answer. "Can you hear mine?"

He wasn't sure if she truly meant to address him, but he said, "No, lady. I cannot."

Her too-thin shoulders seemed to curve inward. "No one ever does. No one ever looked- not really." A bramble of words. Her voice strained to a whisper. "He did. He saw me. He will not now."

~

Elain sidled toward Nesta, who seemed to be at a near-simmer. "It felt... strange," Elain breathed. "Like you pulled on a thread tied to a rib."

Lucien exposed his palms to her. "I'm sorry."

Elain only stared at him for a long moment. And any lucidity faded as she shook her head...

~

But Elain said nothing. Did not so much as take one step downward.

Lucien inclined his head in a bow the movement hiding the gleam of his eye- the longing and sadness.

And when Lucien turned to signal to Rhys to go... He did not glance back at Elain.

Did not see the half step she took towards the stairs- as if she'd speak to him. Stop him.

~

"I'm fine," Elain said quietly. And then asked, noticing the gore on him, the torn clothes and still-bloody weapons, "Are you-"

"Well, I never want to fight in another battle as long as I live, but... Yes, I'm in one piece."

A faint smile bloomed on Elain's lips.

~

Lucien shrugged. "First- here. To help. Then..." Another glance at Elain. "Who knows?"

I nudged Elain, who blinked at me, then blurted, "You could come to Velaris."

Elriel

Elain peered up at his patient, solemn face.

Azriel smiled faintly. "Would you like me to show you the garden?"

She seemed so small before him, so fragile compared to the scales of his fighting leathers, the breath of his shoulder. The wings peeking over them.

But Elain did not balk from him did not shy away as she nodded- just once.

Azriel, graceful as any courtier, offered her an arm. I couldn't tell if she was looking at his blue Siphon or at his scarred skin beneath as she breathed, "Beautiful."

~

"I can help her," said Azriel, stepping to the table as Elain silently rose. No shadows at his ear, no darkness ringing his finger as he extended a hand.

Nesta monitored him like a hawk but kept silent as Elain took his hand, and out they went.

~

The shadowsinger angled his head.

Lucien murmured to me, eye still fixed on Elain, "Should we- does she need...?"

"She doesn't need anything," Azriel answered without so much as looking at Lucien.

Elain was staring at the spymaster now- unblinkingly.

"We're the ones who need..." Azriel trailed off. "A seer," He said, more to himself than us. "The Cauldron made you a seer."

~

Azriel gently removed the gag from her mouth. "Are you hurt?"

She shook her head, devouring the sight of him as if not quite believing it. "You came for me." The shadowsinger only inclined his head.

~

Yet Elain didn't seem to notice them as she rose up on her toes and kissed the shadowsinger's cheek...

~

Elain weighed my words... And slowly closed her fingers around the blade.

(...)

Elain looked up at Azriel, their eyes meeting, his hand still lingering on the hilt of the blade.

What is funny to me here, is how the relationship between Elain and Lucien seems forced but at the same time they kind of try. She directly says to him he betrayed them, continued to ignore him and eventually she did try to get close (in her own way) but apparently decided against it. And at the end even Feyre has to nudge Elain to say something to Lucien, which she did.

Elain's relationship with Az starts off from him putting her down on the town house's foyer, and her never balking away from him. Like literally never, in all their interactions she takes his arm, his hands, looks at him unblinkingly, and even kisses his cheek. Ends up accepting Truth-Teller too, and locking eyes with Azriel. The sweetest girl is not afraid of the most frightening illyrian male... Considering how Elain is, that says a lot.

You can look at this in many ways, but no one can deny that by this book, Az and Elain have a mutual understanding and chemistry.

Acofas

Elucien

A sidelong glance toward Elain, swift and fleeting. "Both of you."

Elain said nothing, but at least she bowed her head in thanks.

~

My sister rose to her feet. "I should get refreshments."

Lucien rose as well. "No need to trouble yourself. I'm-"

But she was already out of the room.

Elriel

Azriel emerged from the sitting room, a glass of wine in hand and wings tucked back to reveal his fine, yet simple black jacket and pants.

I felt, more than saw, my sister go still as he approached. Her throat bobbed.

(...)

But I strode to my seat- nestled between Amren and Mor- in time to see Elain say to Azriel, "Hello."

(...)

But Azriel only took Elain's heavy dish of potatoes from her hands, his voice soft as night as he said, "Sit. I'll take care of it."

Elain's hands remained in midair, as if the ghost of the dish remained between them...

~

Elain bit her lip and then smiled sheepishly. "It's for the headaches everyone always gives you. Since you rub your temples so often."

Silence again.

Then Azriel tipped his head back and laughed.

(...)

Elain smiled again, ducking her head.

~

Azriel and Elain remained in the sitting room my sister showing him the plans she'd sketched to expand the garden in the back of the town house using the seeds and tools my family had given her tonight.

Honestly, for me, this is by far the most telling book even if it is a novella.

The interaction between Lucien and Elain was so forced. She didn't want to be there, he was kind of uncomfortable too and he even says he can't stand being in the same room as her. Afterwards Elain clearly shows no interest in him and even leaves the room. And Elain says to Feyre that he's not entitled to her affections of attentions, we really need to pay attention to her!

With Azriel though... Wow, their interactions just kept on growing and growing. Elain is clearly affected when she looks at him, her throat bobs, she gets all shy (in a good way), smiles at him too, and even gifts him the headache powder because she was paying attention to him throughout the previous months. That clearly says how much she's been noticing Azriel. Not to mention she explains all her gardening plans and they stay talking after everyone went to bed.

I honestly think it's really cute and that's how a relationship should develop.

Acosf

Elucien

Elain, the wretch, had taken the seat between Feyre and Varian, about as far from Lucien as she could get.

~

He and Lucien did not exchange gifts, though the male had brought a gift for Feyre and one for his mate, who barely thanked him after opening the pearl earrings. Cassian's heart strained at the pain etching deep into Lucien's face as he tried to hide his disappointment and longing. Elain only shrank further into herself, no trace of the newfound boldness to be seen.

Elriel

"I always thought she was born on the wrong side of the wall," Elain admitted. "She made ballrooms into battlefields and plotted like any general. Like you two," she said, nodding to Cassian, and then, a bit more shyly, to Azriel.

Azriel offered her a small smile that Elain quickly looked away from.

~

"I was just checking on dessert," Elain explained as they approached the doorway and Azriel. Nesta met the shadowsinger's stare and he gave her a nod. Then his gaze shifted to Elain, and though it was utterly neutral, something charged went through it. Between them. Elain's breath caught slightly, she gave him a shallow nod of greeting before brushing past, leading Nesta into the room.

By this point it's just painfully obvious. Both Lucien and Elain are uncomfortable with each other even if Lucien still does try (but I still think it's because of the mating bond, not because he likes her). He even says in a previous chapter that he's not always in Velaris to see his mate and looks uncomfortable saying that.

With Azriel we can see something has happened or is happening. Small glances, Elain getting shy but smiling at him, him smiling at her and her looking away? That charged look? Elain's breath caught slightly? There's definitely something going on there and we know what it is from Az's PoV. By that point they have been looking at each other, smiling and brushing hands, not to mention Elain started every single interaction in that PoV. She wanted to kiss him, and gifted him another funny and thoughtful gift yet again because she notices him.

~

I didn't put every single one of the interactions, just the ones that said a lot from Elain's reactions because that's the point of this post, to show how she clearly acts around the two males. And I didn't put the PoV because it's a bonus chapter even when it clarifies Elain's feelings.

With Lucien it's forced, she cringes away, doesn't know what to do, and in the end she's just uncomfortable and clearly doesn't want anything regarding their situation.

With Azriel it started off naturally, they developed a friendship with mutual understanding and respect, and it evolved into something else. The interest in each other was always there. Clearly both of them don't know what to do with this because the feelings are strong and have been there for a long time (at the very least a year because of the last Winter Solstice). From the PoV we know it's not easy, even if both of them like each other (Elain has a mate whether she likes it or not). By this point, because of all the external influences, they can't be together, but I think that's what going to play off in her book, choice.

We need to take into account Elain's reactions and choices. Elain's book is most probably the next one, she's going to be the main character as Feyre and Nesta were. What she wants or needs is what matters, not what everyone else thinks. And from all her scenes we can gather that she's going to fight to make everyone change their mind regarding what she wants to do, who she wants to be.

As you would with a female friend, be supportive of her journey and choices and don't bring her down because it's not what you would have chosen for yourself. Everyone deserves the world, and everyone needs to follow their own path and make their own choices.

#elain #elain archeron #Azriel #elain and azriel #elain x azriel #elriel #Lucien #lucien vanserra #Acotar 5

[mettywiththenotes]

320 bits I wanna talk about

Iieda looks like he’s doing the *inhale* before the BOI IF YOU DON’T- meme. Something along the lines of “BOI IF YOU DON’T GET YOUR ASS BACK TO UA-” kind of thing lol.

He holding something in definitely. Maybe charging up for an attack? Idk but he sure seems concentrated

Actually, Iieda seems kinda considering. Maybe he’s weighing up if he should join in the fight, as if he’s asking “Will I have to fight Midoriya, if it comes down to it? Or can the others handle this?” Something tells me he doesn’t want to have to weigh in on the fight. Maybe tear into Izuku verbally, but fight? No I don’t think he wants to do that

But also, I find it interesting that that black panel of text is under him and then it cuts to Bakugou yelling at Izuku. I mean, it could very well be Bakugou thinking that, but if that’s so, then why is Iieda the first person we see?

So, I think it’s Iieda thinking that. Tensions are rising, it seems. I’m expecting his turn to be full of a lot of emotion, or at least trying to get across to Izuku that he feels betrayed but mostly just wants Izuku to come back home.

I don’t really know what’ll happen with Iieda exactly, but I’m totally interested to see what happens

I know Bakugou has problems with his emotions and words and stuff, but I also think here he’s trying to anger Izuku in order to get him to fight back, maybe so he’s more angry than flexible in a fight, so the end result would be Izuku getting too angry to predict anything and eventually tripping up, and that’s when 1A could capture him.

The one thing to remember about Izuku is that allowing him to think is going to be the opponent’s downfall. We saw in the Kacchan VS Deku 2 fight that Bakugou knew this and so kept attacking as much as possible so Izuku wouldn’t have time to think. Which worked, because Izuku is great at analysis, so making his “Win” attitude [getting competitive therefore putting more energy into attacking than strategy] come out over his “Save” attitude [you’re my friend and I want to help you] is kind of a weakness of his. That’s kind of one of the reasons he lost that fight.

Then again, maybe Izuku has improved since then? I don’t really know but I think enough time has passed for him to have maybe improved more on that so idk we’ll see

I really love Bakugou’s expression in that bottom screencap lol

His wound!! All bandaged up!! I wonder if there’s a scar there or smthg :O

LET’S GET READY TO RUMBLEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

I know Enji or Bakugou probably gave them details about the multiple quirks but I still find it wild that everyone just knows now

KOUDA! MY SWEETHEART! I’m glad he’s getting a part in this too, along with Sero. Two of them who didn’t really hang around Izuku but still want him to come back :’)

Sero and Black Whip! Finally! I mean it’s not much but it’s still better than nothing

Also, seems like Sero is trying to taunt Izuku to get him to attack him maybe [same as Bakugou feeding into Izuku’s competitive side] soooo idk Sero following Bakugou’s lead? Maybe :)

Look at how,,,, innocent Izuku looks,,,,, *head in hands* AND SERO TEACHING HIM!!

I knew this lil moment would come bite me in the ass at some point, I knew and yet I’m still tearing up goddamn

That “I thought she was going to tell me its a useless hobby” bit really drives home how Izuku’s friends are 1A, that he loves them and they were the only friends he’s ever had [except Bakugou but he was a bully at the time so I’m not really gonna count him for back then]. HOW many people before UA had gone around and told Izuku his taking notes hobby was useless? SHOW me the people!

I, mettywiththenotes, will NOT allow anybody to slander one of my own!

I know it’s like the only moment Izuku and Ojiro shared, with the sports festival thing, but it’s still really sweet that Ojiro sees that Izuku stood up for him

*head in hands*

Shouldn’t this kid be more worried that he’s likely going to get kidnapped?

“Yeah this super evil villain guy has decided he wants to kidnap me and take me away, but like nbd guys really, that’s why I left in the first place! So I wouldn’t be a burden!” Somebody get this kid a fucking therapist or some shit

This is kind of a chilling and pretty scene though. The rain falling above Izuku and him looking down with these piercing green eyes likely being the only light between them. Good stuff.

Satou! Aha I like how he’s pulling all the stops, such as “I WON’T LET YOU BORROW MY INGREDIENTS FOR ERI!”

Also let’s appreciate that Satou caught Ojiro and Jirou and managed to land on a freaking traffic light. The balance on this kid! Very well done

Kaminari putting Izuku in a headlock! How cute :)

Be cuter if they weren’t trying to subdue a martyr-complex cryptid from killing himself, but still

Does Shouji have some kind of support-item?? Or could he always do the stretchy thing?? Or I guess maybe he’s just stretching his arms out like branches [like he usually does] and using them as more like a capture weapon rather than his usual stuff. I don’t think we’ve ever seen him use his heteromorph body and quirk for anything other than the 5 senses, though I could be wrong

Also Shouji remembering what Izuku said at the training camp, I’m so glad! Shouji always seems like the kind to be so protective over his friends, so I’m glad he remembered that. Then again, Izuku did compare them to freaking ALL MIGHT, but if the nice analytical kid in your class who knows your limits and strengths says you could basically beat A GOD, then that’s definitely one for the memory scrapbook lmao

“It’s nice and dark here, Dark Shadow.” Who said that?? Kami or Izuku?? I just have this mental image of Izuku being shrouded in darkness and trying to keep his eyes open from falling asleep haha

Tokoyami remembering that from all the way back then!! It makes me think that not only have Bakugou and Izuku been watching each other, but that Izuku has always had everybody’s eyes on him! Which is true, he’s inspired everyone! It goes both ways; Izuku loving his friends, and them loving him back :’)

Kami telling him to take a bath lmao I love it. Finally somebody said it

*ugly sobbing noises*

This kind of segment, with a mask falling, a space in-between and a reveal, reminds me of Compress’ reveal :) In that, the person is hiding their identity and then when the mask comes off, they reveal who they truly are underneath

While Izuku is of course determined to go after AFO and is quite the fearsome powerhouse, I really think when he takes off that mask, he’s showing who he really is underneath - a scared little boy who just wants everyone to be happy

JESUS, SHOUTO REALLY IMPROVED HIS QUIRK HUH!! LOOK AT IT, IT’S EVEN HIGHER THAN THE SKYSCRAPERS!!

“The burden placed on you... it doesn’t allow for tears, right?” He sounds so sassy here.

Kind of like saying “Oh you look upset. But that’s weird, I thought Heroes weren’t supposed to cry.” Lol it really shows here how pissed Shouto is at Izuku

But then he relents from that snark and is like “Hey, come on, we’ll share this burden. I’m not letting you go it alone, remember that we’re all here.” :’)

I love when Shouto is sassy and passive aggressive but I also love it when he shows that soft side of him

Okay, this is something I really love.

Tsuyu didn’t join the Bakugou Rescue Squad because “they would be just like Villains breaking the rules”

But here she is, learning from that regret of hers and coming right back to make sure Izuku isn’t the one struggling. She wants to be a part of this rescue squad and pick up where she left off :)

Tsuyu has always struggled with her regrets. It was shown after Kamino when she cried, but for me, I only realised this fully during the Joint Arc when she had her regrets about not making better decisions and not being quick enough [I think that was it].

“I won’t cry in such a flurry” reminds me of “I want to live a life without regret” and so that’s what she’s saying here. This won’t be another regret of hers. She wants to do her best to save her friend

“When scared, you’re allowed to tremble when it’s tough, you’re allowed to shed tears. That’s how you become a Hero like in the comics.”

I feel like that quote piggybacks off of Shouto’s “Heroes cry too”, in that, this is now 1A comforting Izuku. This is them fully coming up to him and telling him that they can help, and that he’s allowed to feel sad about his situation. Shouto’s quote was the teaser, while this entire chapter [and the rest that come to follow] is the main course.

And this is exactly who Tsuyu is. Reassuring, comforting, someone dependable. It says a lot that she’s come from not going to help in Kamino, confessing her feelings and crying about it, then coming back in a similar situation and offering her help - that she’s not willing to just let an opportunity go to better herself. I think I remember reading a few posts on her crying after Kamino and saying it was “performative” or that she just “wanted attention” or smthg like that, but I think she’s really just quite an honest person, and here she is making a great show of how she won’t let something like her guilt slow her down from being the hero she wants to be.

[A part of me feels like this is also a little more evidence with the whole People Not Caring About Bakugou’s Feelings Of Helplessness but like. I digress. It kinda counts but at the same time, it’s not what is going on at the moment.]

Seeing everyone try to reassure Izuku was lovely, and I can’t wait for the rest. I’ve seen a lot of people waiting more for Bakugou’s portion of the battle [AND YEAH DUDE ME TOO] but I really feel like Bakugou’s won’t come until like 2 chapters later or something.

Cause, if this chapter is anything to go by, we’ll probably get through Mina, Mineta, Kirishima, Hagakure and Aoyama next chapter, and then we’ll move onto the “more important” conflicts which will be Iieda and Uraraka, and if their segments are chocked with tension drama and tears, then Bakugou will have a whole chapter to himself hopefully.

Which means we’ll probably have to wait 2 more chapters until we get that sweet, sweet Bakugou chapter :( I hope I’m wrong and it comes sooner than predicted but whatever

I know for some people, that’s all they want, but personally I love these little bits that reflect on the background characters. As someone who isn’t really obsessed with the background characters but also likes them enough to appreciate their development/the little moments they have, I gotta say I really liked this :)

#bnha #bnha 320 #bnha spoilers #bnha manga spoilers #class 1a

[gold3nfics]

Anachronism {Chapter One}

Author's Note: So this is my first written work on here, and I am really excited about this story! This chapter was really just to allow you guys to gain insight into what the story is about and who the boys are. I promise you that Y/N will make an appearance in the next chapter :)

Word Count: 3,814

Our story begins with one man, a man who went by the name Haneul.

Haneul was admired and sought out by many for not only his sharp attributes, but also his magical abilities. He came from a long line of sorcerers before him who had served and protected the realm he resided in.

While he was the one to keep everyone safe, many wondered why he refused to assume leadership, or even live in the nicer part of the land. Instead of living in luxury and riches, he chose to live in the forest away from the bustle of the town solely because he preferred the quiet lifestyle compared to one where many would invade his space and distract him.

One early morning, he woke to frantic knocking at the door of his small cottage.

“Hello?” he opened the door to find that it was one of the royal guards.

“Your presence is requested at the castle immediately.” the young guard says with urgency evident in his voice.

“What happened?” Haneul says now concerned,

“The queen, we believe it is time.”

He grabs his medical supplies and jumps into the carriage heading towards the castle. Once they arrive, Haneul is immediately taken to the royal chambers to begin his work.

Upon entering, his eyes immediately caught sight of the queen writhing in pain surrounded by many servants trying to relieve the pain she was feeling. He approaches the queen with a reassuring smile on his face,

“And how is this young beauty doing?”

“She is not at her best right now.” the queen responds with a weak smile. Haneul releases a sigh of amusement then asks her for permission to check her dilation, after she nods he checks and realizes it is time.

“You, my queen, are about to be a mother in a matter of minutes,” he looks to the servants “bring me warm towels and water.” The servants leave and he focuses on the queen, “I am going to need you to push, but not too hard alright?” She nods and begins to push.

After only seven pushes, the baby is out and the sorcerer carefully wraps the child in a blanket, “Would you like to hold your son my queen?” he says without looking away from the child. When there was no answer, he glances up only to see her going in and out of consciousness.

He immediately hands the baby off to one of the servants and examines her only to find that she has lost too much blood. He does everything he could to revive her, yet she has already passed. He bows his head in shame while holding her cold hand and apologizes, part of him hoping her soul is still lingering around to hear.

Now, there was indeed a ritual he could have done to revive her; however, it is forbidden being that it is far too dangerous to bring a soul back from the underworld.

He stands back with his head hung in sadness, “Alert the king at once.” Just as the servants were gathering to cover the queen's body and filtering out, he approached the servant holding the tiny prince, “May I take him? I need to examine him.” the servant nods and leaves the room.

As he seats himself in a chair behind a divider on the other side of the chambers, he gently looks over the child for any issues. Just as he was almost finished, the child stirs in his slumber raising his small hand to rub his eyes. As the child does this, Haneul catches sight of a white circle on the inside of the child’s hand, at first glance, it appeared as if it was glowing.

Haneul furrows his brows, gently tracing his fingers over the mark. “What is this little guy?”

As he moves to look closer, the servant comes back to collect the young prince to give to the king. He slowly gives away the child and he is soon left to himself to think about what that mark meant. He decides to shake the thought out of his head, and just travel home to rest.

As he rides home on the carriage, he mourns the passing of the young queen. He was quite fond of her, just as everyone else in the realm was. She was not only beautiful, but was also very caring. She would always make jokes and tease others just to have them feel entertained.

Her husband is bound to be heartbroken, he thought in his head. It was no secret the king had worshiped the ground she walked on; not that she didn’t deserve it. The number of times Haneul had overheard the young couple whispering childish jokes to each other, and them arguing over tedious matters were more than he could count. It will be hard to find a woman as kind and unique as she was. I hope her son takes after her. Haneul smiled sadly at this thought.

* * *

As the years passed, Haneul noticed that there have been more and more children who were born with the same white mark that the young prince had. There had been seven boys born throughout the past few years, all of which were born with the same mark and had lost their mothers during childbirth.

“Godammit!” Haneul yells in frustration as he slams his fist onto the table. The table was cluttered with scrolls, books, odd writings, and drawings that even Haneul didn’t even remember taking out. The stressed sorcerer moves over to his bed and faceplants directly onto his pillow.

Not only was he tasked with acting as a teacher to the young prince, keeping the people safe, and being one of the main healers; but he also took it upon himself to figure out what was going on with the seven boys who shared the same mark.

He may have been tired, stressed, and confused; but most importantly, he was worried.

Haneul was a man who believed that there was a reason for everything; death, births, happiness, sadness, there were reasons for all of it. Therefore, he knew that there was a great purpose that followed the seven young boys with the peculiar markings.

* * *

“He follows him as if he was a stray and he threw him a bone. I am surprised Namjoon hasn’t grown irritated.” the young woman says with a tired smile.

“Well Namjoon is quite patient, and I feel that he's the one to keep Jungkook out of trouble,” Haneul responds while packing up his things, “and Yuna, do not forget they both need to meet at my home before dawn.”

“The others will be there, right?” Yuna asks with a glimmer of concern in her eyes,

Haneul grabs her hand as a way to comfort her and stares into her eyes, “They will be there Yuna, they have no choice.” he turns his head to look at the two young men joking around and skipping stones across the foggy pond, “For now, just spend time with the two of them. Okay?”

Yuna’s eyes filled with tears, “Okay, thank you Haneul.”

“Of course” Haneul smiles and bows respectively before departing and starting his journey home.

Haneul has aged considerably throughout the last 20 years, his hair had become greyer and his eyes duller; but his mind and heart were still drawn towards helping people, and to the seven boys with the odd mark, and after many years, he found the answer.

A few months before now, Haneul had stumbled across an old poem.

The world is calm and crops are ripe

Yet underneath its surface lays a darkness waiting to strike

When the circles of seven come to light, so will come a long and frozen fight

A being will propose an idea that the seven circles will see as an answer to end the fight

It is up to the seven circles to decide what path they take, and which is for light and dark

The answer lays at the heart of the one who descends from pure light, for their heart and the seven circles must all reunite

After reading the poem he realized the importance of the young men The poem itself acknowledges a traumatic event that will happen in the time that they are alive, yet it had been months since he found the writing and nothing has happened. However, Haneul knew that something was coming and he came to realize what that was.

You see, two nights prior Haneul had a vision. The vision was not clear, yet it showed a figure whose presence exuded sadness and wisdom. All the figure did was deliver a message that was the following,

“In two days, a frozen death will fall upon your realm. Those seven under the protection of the circle will survive; while all the others will temporarily perish. They will be presented with information that involves seeking another being of pure light to end the frozen death. However, there are two paths they could take with this, but only one being the right one. Do not let them fall into trickery, for that will be their downfall and everything will cease to exist if the wrong path is taken.” and with that, the vision was no more.

Waking from his vision, Haneul knew that he must gather the boys and prepare them for what was to come.

* * *

As Haneul waited for the boys to arrive he put together all of his writings, they were not much but they gave small insight on what was to come. Just as he finished up sorting everything, he caught sight of lanterns and heard the sound of multiple footsteps outside his home.

“Jungkook, if you do not stop stepping on the back of my boots I swear I’m gon-” the voice was cut off by a loud laugh, “What are you going to do Jin? Send your one of the so-called guards after him?” a lazy voice replies.

“Oh that’s rich, coming from a farmer.” a cocky-toned voice chimed in.

“What is that supposed to mean Jimin?” a new deep voice says back, “Guys! Stop it, Haneul is probably hearing everything and I am pretty sure the last thing we want is to embarrass ourselves in front of him.”

Haneul had heard everything; and the last voice was right, they were embarrassing themselves. But the older sorcerer had been rather entertained by their interactions. Putting a sly smile on his face, he opened the front door coming face to face with seven men whose faces varied from shock, embarrassment, to dumbfounded.

“You boys have not changed much, have you?” he crosses his arms and leans against the doorframe. Namjoon forms a tight-lipped smile, “I am afraid not sir.”

Haneul gestures for them to come in, “Well, let’s not waste any more time.”

Once the boys were led in and settled into Haneul’s study, they began to ask questions. “So why are we here?” Jin asks while the others looked at Haneul.

Haneul looked at them and sighed before speaking,

“Have you ever wondered why you all have those marks on your hands?” Silence.

“Why all of your mothers passed away during your births?” Silence again.

Haneul notices the confused expressions and continues, “Well I did. I knew that there was a reason for those markings and,” he stands and gets a small book, “I found the reason why.”

Haneul gives the book to Namjoon and takes a seat in front of them.

“I spent years gathering, reading, and learning everything about what is just so special about you boys, and all of the knowledge that I have gained can be found in that journal. You boys are a part of what is known as the circle.” The boys look at him expectantly, waiting for him to explain more.

“There was a tale that spoke of seven men being born with the same markings that you boys have. They all possessed special abilities that varied with each one of them. These men used their powers to protect those of their realm and were the ones to keep balance within their realm. However, as time had passed tensions had risen between the seven and because of it, a big fight had happened. Their fight had destroyed not only their bonds, but also ended many people's lives. No one knew the true reason why the fight had happened, but many did not wish to know. Because many innocent people had died as a result of the fight, the people, who were the ones that the seven had sworn to protect, had seen the seven protectors as dangerous and a threat. So they decided to kill them.”

Jimin perks up and scoffs, “I doubt their attempts would have worked, you said they had powers right?”

“Jimin,” Namjoon said, “be quiet and let him continue.”

“Anyways, one of the seven had been informed about the people’s plan to assassinate them and told the other six. That night they had decided to willingly sacrifice themselves, and their lives, to no longer cause suffering and sadness among their people. Now, it seems that the gods have decided to pass on the tale by blessing you seven with the marks.”

“So, we are now the protectors of our realm?” Seokjin asks in a tone that gives the impression he is not thoroughly convinced.

The older man sighs, “Yes, and I know this sounds odd but-”

Yoongi cuts him off laughing, “Haneul, please. We are not people of importance, except for Jin and Jimin. Most of us have grown up struggling and some despising one another. Now you say that just because we have similar marks, and our mothers are dead, it makes us special?”

“Yoongi hear him out, you-”

“Oh Jungkook please, we are nothing and have been nothing for most of our lives.”

“Yoongi,” Haneul starts, “you do not have to believe me right now. None of you do, but something is about to happen and you need to understand what to do.” He gives Namjoon the poem that he had found, which related to the prophecy of the seven who all sat before him.

“After finding that poem, I had a vision where a figure appeared to me and spoke of a ‘frozen death’ that will fall upon our people.” the boys' faces grow concerned, “To end it and bring back the balance of our realm, you boys are to venture outside our realm, find a certain being, and bring them back here.” the boys erupt with multiple questions in response.

“Wait, how do you travel outside our realm?”

“How do we know it's them?”

“What do we do once we find them?”

“What about our families?”

It seems that after that last question, everyone grew silent. Taehyung’s eyes had begun to grow watery, “What about my dad? Will he be okay?”

Haneul grew somber, “Your families, as well as everyone here, will be okay with whatever happens while you are searching for the being. However, their lives depend on what path you take once you are all back here together. In the book that I gave you, it tells you how to get to and from the realm in which the being lives.”

Haneul gets up and notices that the sun is almost up. “I do not have much time, but there is one last thing.” he turns towards the boys, “My vision also said that you would be approached with an idea and to be awar-” Haneul’s breathing had grown rapid as he fell to the ground while clutching his heart.

“Haneul!” Junkook had yelled before getting up and running towards him along with the rest of the boys. “Can you hear me? Haneul?” Namjoon asks while kneeling beside him, feeling for a pulse.

His breathing starts to slow down and he reaches out to grasp Namjoon’s hand; the boys are shocked to see a layer of frost had begun to form around his hand slowly moving up his arm.

“B-be caref-ful, d-do not allow yourselves t-to be fooled. Trust your h-hearts and e-each other. Rememb-ber,” Haneul moves his gaze towards the book he had given now in the grasp of Jungkook, “everything is i-in that b-book.” and with that, the frost overcomes his body and his breathing stops.

The boys stood in shock as the man, who had been a role model for all of them and helped so many people, become absorbed by ice and had fallen into a death-like sleep.

Namjoon stands up and takes the book that was in Jungkook's hands, and he began to head out of the house. “Where the hell do you think you’re going?” Jin exclaims following after him.

“To do what we’re supposed to do. I am going to find a way out of this realm, find who I need to find, and do whatever I need to do to get everyone back.” Namjoon states without stopping.

Yoongi scoffs, “You? In case you don’t remember, Haneul said ALL of us have to work together to resolve this, not just you.” Namjoon stops and turns and furrows his brows, “Weren’t you just going on about how you don’t believe in any of this and how we couldn’t do anything?”

“Yes, but that was before I saw Haneul become a block of ice. I still don’t believe we have powers, that seems rather far-fetched.” Yoongi crosses his arms, “Are you saying that Haneul is a liar?” Jin challenges.

“Not entirely.” Yoongi replies in a cold tone, “I am more confused than anything, I mean how the hell are we supposed to know who this being is once we enter their realm?” Everyone is silent, and Namjoon sighs in defeat, “Does anyone have any idea?” Yoongi asks with frustration evident in his tone.

“I have an idea.”

The boys all turn towards the front of Haneul’s house and see a young woman leaning against the doorway. Jimin steps in front of all of them with a hand on his sword, “Who the hell are you?” the woman raises her hands in defense and smiles calmly,

“My name is Ara, I am a friend of Haneul. It would be best not to harm someone who is here to help you.” The boys grow suspicious and Hoesok speaks up, “Haneul didn’t mention you.”

Ara lowers her hands “He didn’t need to,” she tilts her head glancing at all of the boys, “did you really think that he was the only magical being?”

She snaps her fingers and Jimin’s sword appears in her hands making the boy move forward to retrieve it, “Look, I am not here to harm you, and you having a weapon against me will not solve anything.” She moves her wrist to make an invisible force push Jimin onto the ground. Some of the boys stifle a laugh upon seeing the young guard get huffy and brush off his clothes.

“Your marks.” Ara states, the boys look at her in confusion.

Namjoon looks at her, “What? What do you mean by our marks?”

“Your marks, they will help you find who you are looking for.” Ara leans back and looks at him lazily, “Your marks are similar to magnets, they will lead to one another due to their bonds. As for what you need to do with the being once you get them back here; you must bring you eight and your marks to me to restore the balance.”

Jungkook grows confused, “Why would we do that?”

Taehyung steps forward “Yeah, and what about the story?” Ara furrows her brows, “What story?”

“The one about the seven men who were marked and the protectors of their realm.” Taehyung pauses, “There were seven men in the story and now you're telling us that there are eight?”

Ara stills and sighs while her expression grows serious, “Do you know why your people have frozen into a deep sleep?” The boys shake their heads, “Because there were only supposed to be seven of you, seven protectors. But it appears that an eighth being has been born with the mark as well; however, they are not of this realm meaning that your bonds are not entirely connected. It was a mistake, so you boys and them must come back here and break the bond from them, and then peace and life will be restored.” Ara finishes.

The boys are silent for a moment as if to fully grasp the information they had just been given. “So we travel, find, and bring back the being, then you will break the bond?” Jin asks, “Yes.” Ara responds with a comforting smile.

“And everyone will come back perfectly fine?” Taehyung asks in a hopeful tone. “Yes, everything will go back to how things were before. Except for you now being the protectors of this realm.”

“Wait, what about our powers?” Ara turns her head towards Jungkook, “Aren’t we supposed to have powers?”

Ara grins mischievously, “You will need to figure that out on your own, your guy’s powers will come to you naturally.” She stands, “For now, you boys must travel and find the being.” Ara gives Jimin his sword back and begins to walk away towards the path that leads to their town.

“Where are you going?” Namjoon asks and Ara stops and turns. “Someone has to make sure things here remain okay until you get back.”

“Wait a second!” Hoseok yells out, “Why aren’t you frozen? I thought everyone in this realm would fall into a frozen sleep?” Upon hearing this the boys got curious and all stared at her. Ara’s face grew serious, “Because I am not of this realm.” and with that, she vanished into thin air.

The boys all stand there in silence. Namjoon turns his gaze to the book and opens it trying to find out how to transfer them out of their realm.

“I found it,” the boys look towards him, “the book says that we must join hands and visualize the portal into existence.”

“Yeah right, I’m not holding any of your hands.”

“Oh shut up and take my hand Jimin.” Jin says annoyed while grabbing both Jimin and Taehyung’s hands.

“Alright, everyone close your eyes,” Namjoon states and closes his own, “okay now focus on visualizing the portal.”

“How do you even visualize?”

“It’s like imagining, but more detailed.”

“That's confusing, and it also sounds hard”

“Shut up Jimin!” Everyone says while Jimin sighs dramatically.

After a few moments, the seven men felt their marks stinging slightly and a large gust of wind had blown in front of them. Once they all opened their eyes, they saw a large circle of light in the middle of all of them.

Namjoon steps forwards and looks to the rest of the boys, “Here goes nothing.” and with that, they all walk through the portal.

#bts fanfic #bts x reader #au #bangtan ot7 #ot7 x reader

[vivianweasley]

Someone Better (Chapter 1)

Summary: You thought Draco was going to be there for the rest of your life, but the war changed everything. After the war, you were trying to find yourself, but it seemed like you have found Fred Weasley first.

Pairing: Fred Weasley X Fem!Reader, Draco Malfoy X Fem!Reader

Warnings: a little bit of angst, mention of war, anxiety, poor writing

Word count: 1.9K

A/N: There are probably two more chapters and Draco is going to come back later? Fun (boring?) fact: “High Hopes” is actually another Fred fic I’m working on right now lol. Anyways, hope you guys would like it! 

Prologue  Chapter 2  Epilogue

Please do NOT repost my work or translate it on another site without permission! Thank you! Reblogs and comments are always welcomed:)

The war finally ended with Potter defeating Voldemort. You survived, Draco survived, and that was all that mattered to you. What happened in the past and what would happen in the future didn’t matter anymore.

You still had trouble sleeping even after the war. The smell of blood mixed with dust and the sound of old classmates screaming would still invade your dreams. The memories of how fear was growing in every corner of Hogwarts during your last two years of school still haunted you. But you guess you could still find comfort knowing that no one could hurt Draco now.

After graduating from Hogwarts, you found a job at Flourish and Blotts and life was peaceful. Comparing to your time at Hogwarts when you had to worry about death eaters and Draco’s safety, your life right now seemed too peaceful to be true. 

You were walking around in Diagon Alley after work today and you found yourself stopping in front of Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes. This was probably the loudest and most eye-catching shop in the entire Diagon Alley, but for some reasons, you’ve never walked inside before.

You pushed open the door and felt like you have entered a different world. All kinds of strange little things were flying around in the shop. Some would even blow up in the sky like fireworks.

Fireworks. Memories from fifth year started to flood your brain. This shop’s owners blew up the school with fireworks and Draco was so pissed. He held you in his arms and complained for hours. Now that you thought back on it, it was probably the last time that he had talked for so long to you before you two separated.

You felt a sore sensation in your nose and the next thing you knew was tears running down your cheeks. Oh no, this is embarrassing. You immediately turned around and ran for the exit.

“Wait!” 

You heard someone calling you and turned around to see one of the Weasley twins. 

He was looking at you surprised, “I’ve never seen anyone cry in my shop before. That means I’m not doing my job right. So before you go, do you mind giving me a suggestion on how to improve?”

“Oh no, no, you are doing your job perfectly. I’m just...I’m just tired! I was just yawning.”

But he looked more shocked, “Blimey that’s even worse! Does that mean you think my shop is boring?”

You were still trying to come up with an excuse, but you heard a boy screaming behind the man in front of you. The boy looked like he was inflated and was now floating around in the shop like a balloon. And this scene simply made you chuckle.

“I guess my shop isn’t so boring after all, is it?” he smiled proudly as you nodded.

He held out his hand, “Fred Weasley.”

You shook his hand, “(Y/F/N) (Y/L/N).”

“(Y/F/N) (Y/L/N), I believe you need some joy in your life. So if you think your current job is too depressing, we are looking for new recruits!”

“Thank you for the offer. I’ll consider that.”

Fred wasn’t lying. He has never seen anyone who just walked into his joke shop and started crying. Well, if you don’t count the people who were crying and demanding compensation because a joke went overboard. 

He knew you. You were Draco Malfoy’s girlfriend, even though he never really understood why a girl like you would date Malfoy. But if you were Malfoy’s girlfriend, that means you were probably a prick just like him, right?

The first time Fred had noticed you was when he saw you smiling after he and George pranked a Slytherin. He thought you looked pretty smiling, but he has seen many pretty girls, so he quickly forgot about that faint smile.

But you were crying in his joke shop today. And Fred realized you were also pretty when you were crying. This scene was forever fixed in his mind since today. 

Why were you crying? It looked like you were so lost and sad that you didn’t even realize you were crying. What could be the reason behind all this? 

Fred was dying to know why.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The next time Fred saw you was when he was walking pass Flourish and Blotts during his lunch break. You were wearing a uniform and were reading a book by the window. There was a trolley behind you and books were piled on it. Fred assumed that you were supposed to put those books on the shelves, but you were too focused on the book in your hand that you forgot you were working. 

Your brows were furrowed and you were biting your lower lip. You were reading so intently that Fred was pretty sure you didn’t know where you were anymore and he found that really cute.

“So this is where you work. Pretty depressing if you ask me.”

You were startled by the sudden intruder. You closed your book. “Weasley,” you tried to regain your calm and nodded politely at him.

“Are you slacking off? Then I’m glad that I didn’t hire you.”

Now you were a bit annoyed by him. You waved your wand and the books on the trolley started flying around and eventually landing on their designated shelves.

Fred grabbed one of the books that were floating around, which happened to be the one you were just reading. “High Hopes? What’s this about?”

He flipped the book around to read the summary, but you immediately reached out your hand to take the book back. However, your height was at a disadvantage. He just raised his hand and you couldn’t reach it at all.

“Give it back!” You were flushed because you didn’t want a stranger to know that you were reading a romance novel. It’s not like you felt embarrassing about reading romance novel, but you just didn’t want others to see your emotional and soft side. 

After jumping for a few seconds, you suddenly realized that the man in front of you was actually enjoying this. You felt your face heating up. At this point, you couldn’t tell if that was because you were angry or embarrassed or both. You raised your wand, “Accio!” 

Fred found your expressions absolutely adorable. You were just jumping around trying to reach for the book like a kid, but all of a sudden you were raising your wand and looking like you were confiscating his toy. 

“What if I want to buy this book?”

“It’s not for sale!”

“That’s not how you run your business, is it?”

“It’s out of stock!”

“But...”

“Because I just bought them all!”

Fred was laughing because of your reaction, “Fine, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t try to pry into your privacy.”

You nodded, “Yep.”

“So in order to apologize, how about I buy you a lunch?”

You didn’t know what to reply. Your first reaction was to turn down his offer, but you couldn’t find a good reason to. After graduating, you haven’t had the chance to hangout with your old friends. One reason was that seeing your old Hogwarts friends would remind you of the terrifying memories of your last years at Hogwarts. Another reason was because most of your friends were you and Draco’s mutual friends and you felt weird hanging out with them after your break up.

“Sure,” you finally made up your mind. It would be nice to have a friend here at Diagon Alley, you thought. Plus, your new friend was really good-looking. 

The lunch went better than what you both expected. 

Fred was surprised. You were nothing like what he expected before. Even though you would sometimes roll your eyes when he did something stupid, but you still laughed at his jokes and you remembered many of his epic pranks back at Hogwarts. Merlin, you even gave him comments and suggestions on how to improve.

“Blimey! You were nothing like Malfoy!” Fred joked. 

But you froze when you heard the name. 

He was right. You were different.You and Draco wanted and valued different things, and maybe that was why you two were never meant to be. 

“Yea, you’re right.”

“Y/N, I...” Fred was insensitive, but he could tell from your frozen expression that he probably said something wrong. Oh Merlin, what should he say now? Say that he’s sorry? What if that made you more uncomfortable?

“The lunch was delicious and I had fun today! But I probably need to get back to work now. Thank you!” You grabbed your bag and left before Fred could say anything.

“What a genius.” Fred was disappointed at himself. He was just beginning to get to know you, but he ruined it.

For the entire next week, Fred would walk over to Flourish and Blotts during his lunch break. He wanted to walk up to you and apologize, but he didn’y know how. Whenever you were looking at his direction, he would immediately hide away. 

Honestly, Fred didn’t even know what he was so afraid of. And if it was the normal Fred Weasley, he would just pretend like nothing ever happened and keep pestering you like before. Or he could just forget that you two ever met. You were never really friends anyways. 

But he was just scared that he might mess things up with you.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Two weeks later, when Fred was stepping out of the joke shop and preparing to grab something to eat, he ran into you.

“Oh hey Fred!” you waved at him. 

You were waiting for him. You felt stupid running away like that last time. To be honest, you didn’t even know why you ran away. Were you scared to talk about your past? Scared to talk about Draco? Or just scared to open up? You wanted to make amends for running away last time and you’ve finally packed up enough courage to do so today. 

At the moment, many thoughts ran across Fred’s mind:

Does this mean that she’s not mad at me? And did she just call me Fred? Instead of Weasley? Wait, how did she know I’m Fred? Not George?

“Oh I’m not Fred. I’m George! Fred is inside.” He lied, not sure if he was lying to prank you, or to buy him some time to think of what to say regarding what happened last time.

But you giggled, “Fred please, I’ve ran into you so many times. And we’ve had a lunch together. I can tell who you are.”

Fred was surprised. Even his mother would mix up him and George sometimes, but you made it sound so simple and you sounded so sure.

“You bought me a lunch last time, so I wanted to buy you a lunch too. Do you think you have time today?” you said so as if you were reading off your notes. It was monotone and had no stops. 

Fred chuckled. Either you practiced saying this sentence too many times, or you just haven’t asked anyone out in a very long time. But either ways, Fred found that adorable.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

You two went from buying each other lunch to buying dinners and drinks. Fred introduced you to many of his family members and friends, including Harry, Hermione, and Ron. You realized that the trio were not like what you thought, and they thought the same about you.

You also found it easier to open up now and you were having fewer nightmares.

“You are smiling more now,” said your shop manager.

“What?”

“Ever since you started hanging out with that Weasley boy, you are smiling more.” She said so matter-of-factly, “I think I’ve never seen you smile when you first came to the book shop.”

Your manager was right. You were indeed smiling more. You would like to believe that you were a happy person, but so much has happened during your last two years of school. You’ve seen so much tragedy and you’ve lost too much. Merlin, you’ve even lost yourself. 

You knew you were gradually beginning to heal. But you’ve never realized what was the reason behind this, or who.

#fred weasley #fred weasley x reader #weasley twins #fred weasley imagine #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy #fred weasley fanfic #fred weasley fanfiction #fred weasley imagines #harry potter imagine #harry potter fanfiction

[avversiera-writes]

touch your heart [senju tobirama/you] - chapter 4

Summary: Hashirama might go down as the worst matchmaker in history, but he thinks he might be on to something. Tobirama sees through his brother's schemes and is determined not to fall for it. Or fall for you.

Word Count: about 3k

AO3 LINK TO TOUCH YOUR HEART

AOR SERIES LINK TO ‘TIL DEATH DO US PART

[<<<CHAPTER ONE] [CHAPTER TWO] [CHAPTER THREE]

You are not sure what to make of it, but you feel like the awkward atmosphere between you and Tobirama seems to have multiplied by the tens. You did not feel like this around him before, but now, every time he addresses you, it makes your insides twist and you just want to avoid him as much as possible. 

 At the same time, Tobirama’s words seem more curt and he often repeats the same sentences like “ridiculous” and “get to work” as if those are the only words he can say. 

A part of you wants to make fun of him for sounding constipated around you, but you don’t think that the two of you have established a rapport that allows you to do so. You know you have been teasing him nonstop ever since you started working together, but now that he mistook your interaction with his brother as flirting, every time you open your mouth to say something to him, your throat decides to croak and you end up staring at him with your mouth hanging open. 

 You cannot stand it. 

You sigh and decide to stretch your hands up, garnering a glance from Tobirama. 

 You swear if he utters “work” one more time, you are going to drag him outside to breathe in some fresh air. Maybe the nice change of scenery will make his mind restart so that he can say other words for once. 

“I’m curious,” Tobirama starts. 

 You stare at him, not believing what you are hearing from him. Finally, something else he can say to you. 

“What is your relationship with Uchiha Madara?” 

Maybe he should go back to grunting out one word sentences to you. 

You narrow his eyes at him. He keeps asking unwarranted questions. 

You press your lips together, thinking about how you want to reply to him. “Well,” you start. “He’s someone I’m very grateful to.” 

 Tobirama frowns. “Why?” 

 “Excuse me? Have you never had someone be grateful to you?” 

 Tobirama suddenly looks pissed, but he quickly fixes his expression. 

You let out a burst of laughter. “Don’t tell me you think I’m also flirting with him,” you grin playfully to hide the ire behind your tone. 

 Tobirama looks away. 

 “Relax, he’s a friend and kind of a mentor to me,” you tell Tobirama. “Nothing more. He helped me get accustomed to Konoha. I think he just felt sorry for me, but thanks to him, I’ve had a good start here.” 

Tobirama glances at you, his expression unchanging but for once he is not looking at you as if you committed a crime. 

 Well, this is probably the first true thing you have said to him. Your heart ponders at this, but you decide that it should be okay. It’s not entirely specific, but it’s not trivial either. You wonder if you should elaborate more. 

“So, there’s no grand plan of me wooing the founding fathers of Konoha,” you joke and Tobirama rolls his eyes. 

 “Don’t worry, I am not interested,” Tobirama huffs and he straightens even more on his seat. 

You smile at this, and you go back to your work. “Alright. Are we good, then?” 

 Tobirama turns his head to you, and you meet his eyes. 

“Fine,” Tobirama reverts back to his automated one word responses. 

 You nod, and you detect that the air between you has somewhat cleared. 

At the end of the day, as you bid your goodbye to Tobirama, you slip him a piece of paper with some doodles of ninja fighting and a note saying ‘have a good day’ on it in your attempted fancy writing. 

 “Really?” Tobirama deadpans. 

 “For our budding friendship,” you joke. 

 Tobirama’s eyes narrow at you. “We are only working together, we’re not here to make friends.”

You roll your eyes and slip the paper further into his sights. “Co-workers?” You suggest.

 “Not even close.”

 “Oh, come on!” 

Tobirama rubs his forehead. “Fine.” He grits out. “Co-workers.”

 “And then future friends,” you include playfully. 

 Tobirama scowls. “Go home.” 

 “That’s not a no!” You wag a finger to him. “So it’s up in the air, yes?” 

“No,” Tobirama says, his fingers twitching–probably itching to crumple the paper in front of him. “And don’t do this again, this is a waste of paper.” 

  You sigh. “Okay, okay, fine. Have a good night.” 

Tobirama says nothing as you exit the room, and you let out a deep breath you have been holding. At least, he’s talking to you normally now. 

 You chuckle to yourself. 

  Tobirama is so weird, you think.

 The thought brings a small smile on your lips.  

 //

Tobirama stares at the doodle in front of him, his focus beyond repair for the meantime. He assumes the long-haired man in the picture is his brother, with a blob of red as his armor, and the one next to his brother is him, with a hair so huge and spiky that it looks like lightning has struck from the sky and connected with his head. 

 Tobirama stares at it, unsure of what to make of it. Why are you always making fun of him? 

 He sighs, and he looks to the window, where the sky has changed to a swathe of pink and purple, indicating that the sun has set and the night will soon take over. His eyes go to the table and he notices engravings on the table itself on your side of the table, and he sighs, trying to fight away the signs of a headache. Though for a moment, to his chagrin, he found it a little funny. He did say save some paper. 

Tobirama thinks about what you had told him about Madara, and he ruminates on this. Why would Madara take you in, help you get settled and feel sorry for you? How did you even get here, and why did you choose Konoha, of all places? 

 Tobirama rubs his forehead, his thoughts circling in on you. It’s not common that he’s not able to figure out someone in a few seconds. He prides himself on feeling out people, whether it be their chakra, their personality or their thoughts, but the only thing he has learned about you is that you are loud . 

 He can’t even figure where you are from or which family you came from based on your chakra signature, which is not all that impressive. Compared to your presence, it is almost silent. It is there, but they are like waves in a low-tide, unable to do any harm. They ebb at some places, like something is disrupting its flow, and at times it feels almost nonexistent. You do not have any affinity for the elements either, and even with taijutsu, there should be a flare of chakra in you, but there is nothing.  

He knows that you are skilled with blades because the way you hold and carry it indicates that you have drawn it a thousand times. He knows that you have fought before because you are able to surprise him in a match. 

 He can keep guessing who you are, but you somehow prove him wrong and it bothers him. 

 He attempts to get back to work, but his stomach grumbles in complaint, which means that he really cannot focus anymore. Deciding to indulge his uncooperative stomach, he exits the Hokage mansion and trails towards the more active part of the village, where various restaurants are starting to pop up. 

People recognize him as he walks and they offer polite and formal greetings towards him. He greets back, but he does not stop for shirt conversations. Those exhaust him.

 Ahead, lamps are strung by posts to light the street. The street grows in volume as more and more people flood in, coming and going. Someone shouts nearby, and laughter springs everywhere. Splashes of red and gold appear in his peripheral vision, and the smell of fried food wafts in the air. 

Tobirama takes a deep breath, suddenly feeling overwhelmed. 

Suddenly, his eye catches you, running towards him with a carefully wrapped package in your hands. He notices you holding it securely, and as you get closer, he notices that they are packed food. You pass by him, and Tobirama turns to see where you are heading. 

It is not far, as he can see you stop by an alleyway and walk in. 

 Tobirama pauses at this, and against his better judgement, he decides to follow you and see what you are up to. 

He hears your voice first, and when he sees you, he feels unprepared to react at the sight of you handing the freshly cooked food to two children squatting by the trash. 

"Be careful," you tell them, your voice laced with worry. 

 "Thank you so much, nee-chan!" The boy cries out. 

 "Can I ask where your parents are?" You inquire. 

"Uhm...well," the boy starts hesitantly, his eyes swimming with fear. "We...don't have parents anymore."

The boy looks down. "We came here to find safety." 

Tobirama notes the change on your face. You look sad, and Tobirama wonders what is causing it. 

"Well, can you tell me your names?" You address both children with a gentleness Tobirama has never heard before. 

 Maybe that is how you talk to others that are not him.

"I'm Kaito," the boy says. "My sister doesn't talk much, but her name is Yuna." 

 You offer them a kind smile. "Well...enjoy your food, okay? If you ever need help, come find me. I live near the forest in the new building recently built there. I'll bring you guys some blankets if you stay here." 

Kaito stares at you, his eyes swimming. "Thank you very much, nee-chan."

 You sigh, and you reach over and pat his head. Tobirama backs away from sight to hide himself. 

 You run past him, and Tobirama elects to stand where he is so that he can watch the kids while you get them their blankets. 

 Tobirama suddenly frowns as a thought comes to mind. There is a newly built orphanage in the village now. 

 "Tobirama?" You cut him off his thoughts and Tobirama snaps to your attention and it occurs to him that this is probably the first time you called his name without insulting him in some way. 

 Tobirama had not noticed your arrival. He must have been standing here for a while. 

He should have moved and went on with his life. 

"We should take them to the orphanage." He looks down at your arms where you are carrying a blanket, a change of clothes and a knife. 

 Tobirama grows uneasy as you stare at him, even though the surroundings are almost dim. 

"Okay," you finally said and you called the kids out. 

Tobirama glances at the two tiny children, suddenly noticing how thin and grimy they are. 

"This is Senju Tobirama," you introduce him. "He can help us find a place to stay warm, okay? He's a good person." You reassure them.

Tobirama attempts at a small smile, but he feels your eyes on him and he ends up grimacing. He also zeroes in on the fact that you called him a good person in front of these kids. He doubted that you even thought of him that way, but hearing it from you is a little refreshing. 

"Follow me," Tobirama walks ahead, unable to stand still under your gaze. 

You are looking at him strangely and Tobirama is not sure what to make of it. 

Thankfully the walk is not too long, but it means that Tobirama has to spend the rest of the time walking with you in this awkward silence that seems to pervade whenever the two of you are near each other. It is now completely dark, save for the occasional lanterns guiding the way, but it does nothing to alleviate the tension. Instead, he turns to himself inwardly and makes a mental note on formalizing how to accept refugees in the future so that random people that have the potential to be a threat cannot enter the village easily. It is still so young and he is not sure how it will hold when there is some disorder. 

 After dropping the kids off in the orphanage and signing some documents and talking with the ward there, the two of you head back to the center of the village, where the night scene comes alive. He is tempted to say something to fill the air, but he is also waiting for you to say something because he assumes that you would normally talk when there is nothing to talk about. 

 Alas, he is wrong again. 

He never thought that he would be the first one to say a word.

 “You look chirper,” he comments. He glances at your face, noting how relaxed it is compared to earlier. You also do not look as glum. 

 “Yeah, well,” you start, scratching your cheek lightly. “It’s all I wanted to do is–you know, make a difference and all that shi-stuff.” 

 Tobirama hums, amused at your slip of a curse word. He senses the truth in your words and for once, he finds himself relaxing around you.

“I know you probably think that I don’t mean that since I tend to joke around, but trust me when I say that I see a lot of good things happening here. Children outside of Konoha are not so lucky,” you say. 

“Yeah,” Tobirama agrees. 

 Tobirama feels your eyes on the side of his face and he swallows. 

" I was not so lucky," your words falter as you begin them, but Tobirama sees the determined look on your face and it surprises him even more. "But I am now in a place where I can help people out." 

Tobirama glances at you again, surprised at your sudden confession to him. 

 "Ah well, I talked too much, you might start to think I’m nice," you joke. 

 "I do not find anything wrong with that," Tobirama replies, and for a moment the two of you locked eyes. 

Tobirama hears your stomach grumbles and you let out a shy laugh. 

 "Whoops," you announce, chuckling. 

Tobirama sighs, but he is not exasperated. "Let’s go."

 "Where? Back to work? Don't tell me I missed some pages to work on because I was very thorough today." 

 Tobirama raises an eyebrow. "Only today?" 

You smirk and Tobirama looks ahead of him, unable to stare at you straight on. 

"My brother and I weren't so lucky either," Tobirama begins, feeling that it's only right that he says something back that is equivalent to your confession. "All we knew was war when we were children. So many people we cared about died, but despite all that, elder brother was very ahead of his time. He's the one who dreamed of building this village." 

You smile softly at him. "Well, look at it now. It's something." 

 "More than something," Tobirama insists. "It’s a new world." 

"Tell me something, Senju Tobirama. Is this how you saw the world too?" 

Tobirama stares straight ahead. For a moment, he considers not answering, but his mind gets the best of him. "No," he admits. "The world is always in peril." 

"Then why partake in such an ambitious dream?" 

 Tobirama tenses up. He gives you an inch, and you are backing him up a mile without his control. Your question is too close in a way that it shows his deep devotion to his family and this village.

 You did not even have to try. 

"You wanted to make his dreams come true, right?" You prod on. 

Tobirama's fingers twitch, desperate to hold something. You are right and it almost pisses him off. 

"It’s his dream," Tobirama answers curtly. "But he dreams too much. He did not think of what the cost could be and the work that comes with it."

 "And you covered that part," you state. 

 "Right," Tobirama murmurs thoughtfully. 

 "I can respect that." You smile at him, and you bump your shoulder against his arm. 

Tobirama finds that he did not mind, but he is still a little annoyed that you of all people have seen through him. 

 However, he also realizes that the awkward atmosphere between the two of you has dissipated. 

It's a curious thing. 

He sees you walking ahead, and before he knows it, he is reaching out to grab your arm. He is able to stop himself, but his fingers brush against the back of your arm. His hand forms a fist as a form of restraint.

 You turn to him with a questioning look.

"Dinner," he almost stammers, but his voice is even. "It’s this way. My treat." 

 Your face lights up, but you cringe as your stomach announces once again that it needs food.

"Sounds great to me," you smile at him again, and Tobirama finds himself hurrying his steps ahead of you.

He thinks about the project and how it is almost finished. Just two more months of this, and he can be done and you can get out of his hair.

 That was the agreement, after all.

He hears your footsteps catch up to him, and now, he finds you walking by his side. 

//

If Tobirama thought that you were a con-man before, then he will probably think that you are now. 

 Today, he has students doing some chakra training by walking on water, and you have opted to watch and listen to Tobirama’s elaborate instructions instead of joining them and demonstrating how to do it along with Tobirama. 

 The truth is, you have no idea how to do that. You never learned how to because you had no formal shinobi training. All you know how to do is fight for your life, very desperately at that. 

 You watch the kids, and you cannot help feel the bitterness that you have tried so hard to let go. You did not have this when you were younger. All you knew were sickness after sickness, vials of poisons and medicine, and a hazy mind and a weak body.

 Years of your life were lost to parents who failed to protect you because of their twisted beliefs and their inability to stand their ground.

 You were lost and without a guide. 

You consider sneaking away, but you feel like you and Tobirama are finally on the same page and doing that might not help your case with him. 

 You are aware of his piercing gaze being directed towards you, but he doesn't call you out for not participating or push you to do the exercise with the kids. 

 You stand to the side uselessly, using your foot to draw random circles on the ground, until the kids are dismissed and Tobirama is walking up to you with a strict expression. He looks like he might yell at you or scold you, but surprisingly, he does none of that.

“You’re awfully quiet today,” Tobirama comments tersely. 

 You look up to meet his hard eyes and you shrug. “I did not think that you’d notice.”

Tobirama gives you a very hard and long look, and it burns through you. 

“What?” You snap, your facade long gone. 

You see Tobirama’s eyes widen slightly, but they are back to his usual scrutinizing gaze. 

“If you have a problem, it’s best that you communicate it with me. We are working together professionally.” Tobirama does not back down. “We are both adults.” 

 You press your lips into a thin line, and you look towards the flowing river, where the kids tried their luck to walk across it. 

Tobirama turns to walk away, and you grip the hilt of your sword in instinct. 

It is now or never. 

“I don’t know, okay?” You suddenly blurt out. “I did not have any of this when I was a kid.”

Tobirama stops and he turns to you questioningly. You observe from his demeanor that he is not particularly judgemental towards you at the moment. He looks at you with an understanding he extends to his students. 

 You turn towards the river again. “I…” 

Tobirama waits, neither impatient nor placating. He does not even look like he’s in a hurry. 

You grit your teeth, and then slowly let out a deep breath through your mouth. You glare at Tobirama. 

 “Do not ever speak of this to anyone,” you warn him. “This is between you and me.” 

“I promise,” Tobirama says, his tone serious. 

 You look at his face, your eyes tracing his set jaw and the three perfect markings that are tattooed on his cheeks and his chin. 

 “I did not have this when I was young,” you tell him vaguely, but you realize that you will get nowhere if you keep evading the subject. “I don’t know, maybe you can help me, but maybe it’s too late…”

“You should get to the point,” Tobirama finally says and he folds his arms. “And if it’s help you need, you only need to ask.” 

 You stare at the ground uneasily as you feel your face heat up. 

“I need your help because when I was young, I did not learn how to be a proper shinobi,” you say in a rush. “That walking on water lesson? I never had that. I don't know how to do that.” 

You look at him helplessly and watch Tobirama’s neutral expression, seeing the gears turning in his mind. 

 “I had to figure out everything myself,” you say in a low, dark tone. 

Tobirama nods, but then for the first time, he smirks at you. “That’s not a lot for me to go by, but it’s a nice change to see you not put up a farce for once.” 

You glare at him. “Yeah, well, beggars can't be choosers.” You fold your arms as well. “And you’ve noticed it, haven’t you? That I do not have a good, consistent chakra flowing in me.” 

Tobirama pauses, and his eyes glow for a moment. 

 “Shouldn't your closest friend know this?” Tobirama inquires sarcastically. 

 “He doesn’t,” you roll your eyes. “Or maybe he does, but he chooses not to bring it up.” 

 “Why did you bring it up?” 

 “Because I’m not stupid and I refuse to let my shortcomings get the best of me,” you snap. 

Tobirama raises an eyebrow. 

You meet his eyes, throwing your pride away and mustering all the determination you can find in yourself. “And I want to learn. So teach me. Help me. We only have two months and I know the timing couldn’t be better, but that’s all the time I need.” 

 Tobirama turns to the river, and a breeze brushes by, sweeping the grass, flattening it, and carrying dry leaves and scattering them about. It picks up strands of your hair, and it moves the hems of your clothes, and when the breeze has passed, Tobirama has his reply ready. 

“Very well,” Tobirama folds his hands behind his back and turns to you. “I’ll do it and keep your secret.”

 Your eyes widen, and you feel elated. “That was unexpected.”

 Tobirama narrows his eyes.

 “But...thank you. That means a lot to me.” 

 You can't help but give him a shy smile, and Tobirama glances at you from the sides of his eyes, his ears and neck turning pink. 

 "Well, when do we begin?" 

 Tobirama lets out a sigh through his nose and gives you a funny look. "Now. Get running."

 "What?" You stare at him with disbelief. "Now? It's almost lunch."

 "Yes, now." Tobirama's face goes back to its hard and strict expression, his eyebrows almost furrowing and his lips and jaw set. 

  You take a deep breath, and you break into a run and Tobirama jogs lightly after you. You try to get ahead of him, but Tobirama keeps up just as easily, his long legs pumping to match yours. The two of you run towards the forest, jumping over decaying logs and rocks. You hear Tobirama's rush of breath near you, the snap of sticks underneath his feet, and the ruffle of his clothes as his body moves. You focus ahead, and you see a wall of rock blocking the edge of this forest. Tobirama keeps going and you follow him, but you speed past him so that you can get to the rock first. 

 However, Tobirama does not stop there. 

 "What are you doing?" Tobirama barks. "We're going back." 

 You catch your breath and you watch him go ahead of you. Of course, you expected nothing less from the Senju Tobirama. You smirk to yourself, and you run to his direction, determined to get there first as well. 

 A burst of laugh escapes your lips as you pass him by, and you jump over a small path. You turn towards him, completely exhilarated and Tobirama stutters in his steps. 

 "Not bad," Tobirama comments coolly as he gets closer to you. 

 You pout playfully. "I was here first." 

 "That was not a race," Tobirama says. "And if it was, you'd lose."

 "Wow." You roll your eyes, but there is no malice between the two of you. This is the first time the atmosphere between the two of you had eased enough for the two of you to joke around with each other willingly. "Such hubris, my lord." 

 Tobirama's eyes narrow. "I think you should just stop calling me with a title. You give it no purpose anymore."

 "Are you hurt?" You say mockingly. 

 Tobirama sighs and he pinches the bridge of your nose. 

You chuckle easily. "Alright, Tobirama." 

Tobirama glances at you, a slight frown etched to his face but he does not look displeased. He nods and you shrug, and you find that spending time with Tobirama like this is not so bad. You are not sure about tomorrow since your interactions with him are like going through hills and valleys, but at least, it does not feel like you are Tobirama's mortal enemy anymore. 

.

.

.

[CHAPTER FIVE >>>]

#avversiera writes #angelica writes #'til death do us part #Senju Tobirama #Tobirama Senju #tobirama x reader #senju tobirama x reader #tobirama x you #senju tobirama x you #tobirama x y/n #naruto fanfiction

[tinisprout]

No Doubt in Us

Chapter Seven - They'll Be Fine *written chapter below*

Fiance!Haknyeon x Fem!reader

Masterlist | Prev | Next

Synopsis: Life is great, you have your dream job, you finally got your first big break, and you are now engaged to the love of your life. Happier than you’ve ever been, you live life one day at a time. Then one day a terrible accident happens leaving you in a coma. Where you finally awake, everything is not as you remember. Amnesia takes away 3 years of your memory, forgetting your beloved Fiance. Faced with a reality that seems unreal, as your mind is stuck in a past with uncomfortable memories, your future with him is uncertain.

Send me an ask if you want to be put on the taglist for this series

Taglist:@my-summer-night @deputyjuyeon @juhaktheoneforme @sunqnew

Sorry for the late chapter I've been very busy

Word count: 3.6K

Neither of you knew who fell asleep first, let alone at what time you fell asleep. What you did know is that it wasn't enough sleep. Both of your eyes were red and heavy after waking up by your alarm. Maybe setting it to 9:30 was a mistake. You look at Haknyeon who was sitting up trying to keep his eyes open.

"You know I love you, but I blame you for this." He uses his hands to refer to both of you.

"Excuse me, if I remember correctly we both were tweeting, Diamonds aren't forever lyrics." Bickering like this with him seemed to be so far away before yesterday, but after talking with him last night you felt a lot closer, he felt like a friend.

"Ugh fine, equal blame." He smirked, enjoying this little banter. You get up from the floor hitting your face to wake you up a bit more.

"Better." You reach your hand out to him, and he takes it pulling himself up. "Alright, clean up time." You swipe your phone off the ground checking to see if there was anything new. Just in time, your phone buzzed a new message from your mom.

Mom: Hey Honey, I know we said we'd come over noonish, but your father got very excited to make something for you guys. He already bought everything, so forewarning. We'll be there in an hour give or take. See you soon.

You turn to Haknyeon showing him the message. When he looked back up at you, you asked, "Since when did my dad cook?"

"Hmm, maybe a year now?" He says almost unsure of it himself. "But that's a story for later, your dad will love to tell you. We have about an hour to get this place in order before they come." You text her an, “ok”, back.

"Okay, let's get some speed cleaning done." You both work together to fold the big comforter. "I'll bring everything back upstairs." Haknyeon nods at you.

"I'll take care of the kitchen area," he calls out to you. You felt a little bad, you left a lot of dishes there. I'll just work faster so I can do other things. The sounds of clinking dishes and shuffling feet filled the house, both doing various tasks around their home. When they were finally satisfied with their work they both went to sit down on the couch to rest.

As if cursed preventing you from resting, a knock came from the door, making you both stand up again. You check your phone, 10:53 a.m. a little over an hour from the time your mom said. You both scurry to the door. You could hear the familiar voice of your mother conversing with your father, it brought a smile to your face. It felt like it had been such a long time since you last saw them, and maybe that was the case, you weren’t sure. Still, you opened the door eagerly for them.

“Mom,” you say with a big smile on your face. You see that she is carrying bags in her arms and you take them from her, ushering her inside. “Come in.” Following behind her was your father with bags in his hands as well, “Dad.” You set the bags down and your father does the same.

Everyone except Haknyeon was crowding the entranceway. You looked at your parents, they seemed a little bit older than the image you had of them in your memories, and you felt your throat tighten. When they looked at you, they scanned you from head to toe, touching your face, lifting your arms, making sure you were really okay. Their actions make you chuckle, “I’m okay, I promise,” you say trying to reassure them. Their baby girl was really okay.

“You’re okay,” Your mother wraps you in a hug, “It’s okay, you’ll be okay, honey. I promise.” Your words being thrown back at you like that made tears prick your eyes. You brought one of your arms around your mother and your other hand reached out and tugged your father’s shirt urging him to join you two. Creating this group hug the three of you had a tearful reunion, saying I love and I miss yous to each other.

Despite how close he was to your parents he still felt like it wasn’t his place to be there in your moment, so he waited patiently by the side, smiling at the happy little family reunion. Your father pulled away looking and looked in Haknyeon’s direction while wiping away the tears forming at the corners of his eyes. “Come here, son. You’re part of this family too.” Haknyeon was shocked by your father’s words.

Regardless of how close he was to your family, this moment felt like it was too personal to be a part of, especially with how things are now, so he hesitated to come closer. You and your mother pulled away from each other and she looked to Haknyeon as well. “It’s okay, Dear. Don’t act like a stranger.” As she said that, your mother spread her arms out, welcoming him. Your parents looking at him as one of their own, Haknyeon felt overwhelmed with emotions. They looked so sincere to him and he couldn’t deny them, so he came to them as they wished.

“It must have been hard on you too.” The three embraces and Haknyeon felt a different kind of comfort compared to his friends’ comfort. This parental comforting feeling that he didn’t know he was craving. Since the whole incident, he didn’t tell his mom about a single thing, he knew she already had a lot on her plate, he didn’t want to stress her out. Tears pooled in his eyes, your parents could feel his shoulders tremble and their hearts broke.

Crying the stress away felt so much relief and gratitude for your parents. Haknyeon thanks them and everyone takes a moment to clean themselves up, wiping away the tears, this peaceful calm now over the room. You and Haknyeon both take the bags your parents brought and lead them further into the house, dropping the bags off in the kitchen. “So, Haknyeon said I should ask you guys about Dad cooking. Why is that suddenly your thing?” You ask, bringing in a topic that should be a happy conversation.

Your parents hum at the same time thinking. “It’s definitely because of Haknyeon,” your mother says while nodding her head.

“It was when we came over. You are your mother went to go get something, so you left the task of cooking to Haknyeon,” your father chimes after. You look to Haknyeon and he nods confirming your father’s answer.

“I had your dad help out a little here and there. I think he first got interested in the seasoning process.” Haknyeon smiled as he thought back on the old memory. Your father and Haknyeon recounted their first cooking experience together, many laughs filled the house. Then your mother piped up at the end of the story looking at you.

“Needless to say when we got back home, take-out needed to be ordered. Whatever scaps they salvaged was not enough to feed the four of us.”

“I was lucky your mother let me touch a stove again, let alone walk in the kitchen.” Your father passes a playful smile to your mother.

“That’s right, you’re lucky that the scraps you offered were not that bad. Now that I think about it that was Haknyeon’s doing, wasn’t it?” She teases him and your father feigns sadness.

“It hurts me that you would think that way, Dear.” This familiar banter between your parents brought a smile to your face, they were still as in love with each other as you had always seen them. Your eyes subconsciously moved to Haknyeon, a smile still holding on to your face. You didn’t expect to see Haknyeon's eyes already on you, the corner of his lips lifted, your eyes went wide. Haknyeon, as if caught doing something bad looks aways, but realizing how silly he must look, his eyes found their way back to you.

He gave you a bashful smile and you tittered at the display. The moment is broken up by your mother motions you over to her. "Well you boys can have fun cooking together again, I need to catch up with my daughter."

"Have fun, Ladies. We'll call you if we're done here before you." Your father shooed you away from the kitchen and took your spot by Haknyeon. You and your mom decided to go out to the back porch, taking a seat at the small table set up you had.

"So, honey, how have you been lately?" You sigh.

"I have been better, but I'm working on it."

"And what about you and Haknyeon?"

"It was a little difficult at first, but we decided to try and work it out. He seems really nice and he is fun to talk to, but I don't know if I can fall in love again, it's all feels so sudden.”

“That’s understandable. We love Haknyeon, but if you feel he isn’t right for you anymore, don’t be afraid to say so. We’ll be here for you no matter what.”

“I know, I think falling for someone like him would be nice, but life isn’t that easy.” Knowing how your relationship was with Haknyeon, she thought it was almost impossible that you wouldn’t come to love him again, but she kept her mouth shut. That was something you needed to figure out on your own, she didn’t want you to feel like you had to be with him, even if that’s what she hoped for.

“What about your friends how have they been fairing with this?”

“We’re good, I think. They are understanding about everything even the ones I don’t remember. They seem like good people.”

“You always had good taste in friends, if Chanhee is any indication of that.” You release a deep sigh, feeling your soul shrivel up at the thought of Chanhee. Your mother looks at you with confusion, “What happened?”

“We got into a little argument.”

“Some things just never change do they,” She chuckles. Watching the both of you grow up she witnessed some of your fights and had sometimes been the one to help you two patch things up. “You’ll be fine,” she really wasn’t worried, the two of you always found a way to make up.

“Yeah, I’ll work on it.” The conversation veers off from its current direction. The two of you talked about what you could and couldn’t remember. She told you about stories of yourself she could recall, and then some stuff about her and your father. There didn’t seem to be a big change with them and that brought comfort to you, knowing that some things were still the same as you remembered.

Meanwhile, inside the house, the two men were cooking. Your father was instructing Haknyeon on how they were going to make lunch. When the cutting proceeded, your father spoke up first.

“So, have the two of you made any decisions yet?” it was a sudden question but he could only assume he meant about the status of your relationship.

“Well it was a little complicated at first, but she said she wanted to try dating me again, so we kind of started our relationship over again.”

“You think you can make her love you again?”

“I- I’m trying to be hopeful. What she saw in me before, she can see again.”

“Personally, I don’t think you should worry that much. I’m not saying to not try and win her over, that will still take some work, but I can’t see her not falling in love with you again. Do you know how much happiness you brought her? I think you’re already set up for success, just don’t screw up.” With his last words, the knife he was using slammed into the cutting board with a loud thud, cutting through a carrot and the cut-off piece went flying.

“Please be careful,” Haknyeon says as he picks up the carrot piece and throwing it away.

“That was an accident, I was distracted.” He stops trying to cut and looks a Haknyeon. “But on the off chance that things don’t turn out good and she decides that she can’t love you, through no fault of your own, then just know whoever she picks after, I won’t like them as much as you. You’re like the son I never had.” Nothing like a little dark humor to lighten the mood.

“Thank you, Sir.” Haknyeon felt sheepish at his words, even though it wasn’t the first time he’s said something like that. Light-hearted small talk continued as the two continued prepping, besides the one mistake in the beginning the cooking process goes on without a hitch. Soon enough the house filled with a tantalizing smell. When all is done, your father goes outside to call you can your mother back for food.

When you finally come back inside with your mother you are greeted with the sight of Haknyeon contentedly setting the table for everyone with care. Your eyes lingered on him, looking at the half-smile to yourself, His smile is nice. It gives him a friendly endearing look and you didn’t notice you started smiling looking at him till your mother nudged your arm, dragging you back to reality from the daze you were in, giving you a knowing smile as she looks from you to Haknyeon and back. You turn away from her not saying anything feeling flustered at the realization of what you were doing and walk ahead of her. You could hear your mother snicker, this causes Haknyeon to look up at you then your mother and his smile grow.

“What’s so funny?” You felt your face heat up, Why did he have to look now?

“It’s nothing.” You try and hide your embarrassment with a smile and Haknyeon looks at you suspiciously before letting it go and telling you both to have a seat at the dinner table. Taking up the offer you sat and soon the table was set and everyone was seated. To your delight, the food looked, smelled, and tasted good. “My compliments to the chief,” you nod at your father approving of his cooking, and glance at Haknyeon in acknowledgment of his help.

“Careful, Honey. Don’t inflate your father’s ego too much now or he’ll start to think he’s better than me.” It’s true, it wasn’t as good as your mother’s cooking, but he had potential.

“Just you wait, I will be one day.” Your father shoots a stubborn glare at your mother, causing everyone to laugh. The meal warms you up from the inside and you stuff yourself with your first meal of the day. Thinking about that you realized two things: Haknyeon also didn’t eat before this and this is the first time you’ve had a meal with him, so you glance over at him, catching him mid-bite. If your eyes could they would have gone as big as when he opened his mouth to take a bite.

Haknyeon greedily shovels the food in his mouth and when he notices you staring, he stops mid spoon, mouth still agape. You bite on your top lip to stop yourself from laughing at the silly look he had. Sure, it was shocking to see him open his mouth like he was about to unhinge his jaw, but in its own, weird way, it’s cute and charming. Haknyeon just felt like he was embarrassing himself too much today. You mouth an apology and he pouts his lips a little, your small interaction going unnoticed by your parents as they were currently in their own world.

Lunch with your parents continues with light conversation and when everyone had their fill you started to help clean up, but your mother stops you.

“Thank you, but we got it. You and Haknyeon go take a rest for a bit we’ll be done soon.”

“You sure?” Both you and Haknyeon ask.

“Yeah, go, go.” For the second time today, you are shooed away in your own house. You went going to cross swords in helping since you felt your tiredness hit you again after eating. The two of you decided to take a seat on the couch, leaning back into the cushions and leaning your heads back. You felt this amazing comfort perfect for dozing off, you wonder if Haknyeon is feeling the same.

“It’s not just me, right? I feel so warm and sleepy now.”

“Hmm?” Way ahead of you already he was starting to doze off too and you smile.

“Sleepy?”

“Yeah…” You both can’t help but let sleep take over you despite the noise coming from the kitchen. When your parents finish cleaning up they call out to the two bodies on the couch, but neither answers. So your mother goes up to both of you and holds back a gasp. She waves your father over and the sight he is greeted to is you and Haknyeon leaning on each other.

As if unconsciously drawn to each other’s warmth, your head rests on his shoulder and his head was laying on the top of yours. Both pairs of legs lean towards each other.

“I was planning to stay here a little bit longer, but I think we should leave now.” Your mother whispers to your father. He nods and they get prepared to leave. Your mother left a note on the counter and your father decided to take a picture of the two of you, making sure to send it to Haknyeon. They leave both thinking the two of you will be just fine.

***

You stirred in your sleep state bringing yourself closer to the heat you felt beside you, but the movement brought pain to your neck and shoulders waking you up. Opening your eyes you lifted your head and felt a terrible stiffness, you realize your head was laying on Hakyneon’s shoulder. Not just that, but you were also in close proximity to each other, almost like you were cuddling. You look at Haknyeon checking if he was awake but all signs led to a no, eyes closed, as his head was leaned back on the couch in an uncomfortable-looking way, his lips parted slightly, chest rising and falling rhythmically. You admittedly feel a little weird being with him like that but it wasn’t bad, besides the pain you felt currently.

You carefully get off the couch so you don’t wake him up. You grab your phone from your pocket, checking the time, 6:48 pm. Surely your parents weren’t here still. You find the note left on the kitchen counter.

I remember you said you mentioning you were tired, so we decided we should just let you two sleep. Don’t feel bad about falling asleep on us, we had a lot of fun see you guys again. Take care.

Love Mom

You go back to Haknyeon on the couch, looking at the position of his head again. Figuring it would be better to wake him up now or else he would end up having a greater pain in his neck. Drawing closer to him you get a better look at his face, his skin was flawless, it looked even better than Chanhee’s skin. You get even closer for a better look and before you realize what you’re doing your fingers slide across his face cupping his cheek, skin just as soft as it looked. You lightly shake his face calling to him, “Haknyeon... Haknyeon, wake up.”

His eyes flutter open, a dazed look on his face, like at any moment he could go back to dreamland. His eyes focused on the visage in front of him, blurry yet he could still see the ever recognizable beauty that was you. His lips moved in an arc and he brought his hand up to your face cupping your cheek in the same way you did his. That is what brought you out of your trance and you were petrified in an instant. You felt your heart shoot up in your throat when you saw the loving gaze he directed at you while rubbing your cheek with his thumb.

This killing blow in it all is when he called you, “Hey, y/n,” with a deep husky voice that you were wholly unfamiliar with. You felt your face and neck heat up, with the intimacy of the situation. Does he realize what he is doing or is he still half asleep? You shot up from the couch not sure if you wanted to know the answer, stepping away quickly, trying to distance yourself from the state of affairs. Startled Haknyeon sits up snapping out of his daze.

“I- uh, sorry.” Haknyeon looked as confused as you were shocked.

“Did I just- I thought I was…. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to.” He truly thought you were just in his dream, it was such a common occurrence that he didn’t think twice.

“No, I started it. it’s my fault.” He recalled the touch of your hand, that kind of contact made it feel almost as if nothing between the both of you changed. Neither of you knew what to say at the moment, so there was a bout of silence. You opened your mouth again after thinking of something to say, asking a question straight from left field, “Can you help me? I need to apologize to Chanhee.”

Masterlist | Prev | Next

#the boyz #tbz #the boyz social media au #the boyz smau #tbz smau #tbz social media au #haknyeon #juhaknyeon #ju haknyeon #the boyz haknyeon #tbz haknyeon #haknyeon fluff #haknyeon angst #haknyeon fanfic #haknyeon scenarios #the boyz scenarios #tbz scenarios #the boyz fanfic #tbz fanfic #the boyz imagines #tbz imagines #the boyz fake texts #tbz fake texts #Haknyeon smau #the boyz x reader #the boyz x you #tbz x reader #tbz x you #my writing #No Doubt in Us

[bonjour-rainycity]

Double Heart | Chapter Six ~ Haldir

|previous part|

Pairing: Haldir x OFC

Rating: PG

Word count: 4044

Warnings: None

**Read on Ao3 under the user “bonjour_rainycity” if you prefer!**

A/n Happy Thursday! Thanks for all your responses so far -- I’m so grateful! Alright, time to see what Haldir thinks of all this!

We are sixteen days into our journey when we reach the mountains.

We made good time, considering all the stops and adjusting for our human guests. Now that I know they are more capable than I anticipated, I will be pushing us to clear the ranges in five days. I do not want to travel these mountains any longer than necessary.

Everyone feels the tension. My right hand never leaves the hilt of my sword and I know my brothers travel in a similar fashion. While I am always careful when traveling through the orc-infested mountains, this time more so than usual. The stakes are higher. Lavandil is trusting me to deliver her betrothed to her in one piece. My brothers and Baranor are trusting me to guide them safely on this treacherous journey. And the humans…

Well. They can’t possibly know what they’ve gotten into, so that’s on me, too. They have no experience in battle, nor do they seem ready for a fight. I worry they’ve never even seen an orc, at least not that they can remember. I am as responsible for them as I am for the kin that accompany me.

I turn on Faervel to face my companions, trusting Orophin to watch my back as I take in those that follow me. My brothers are watchful like I am, one hand on a weapon, one hand holding the reins. Their eyes constantly observe our surroundings, never lingering on one spot for too long. Baranor looks mildly nervous — this is only his fifth pass through the mountains and I know his mind is running through his previous journey, remembering the warden we once nearly lost to a poisoned arrow. A dull ache throbs in my left shoulder. The wound is long ago healed — the memories, however, are not.

Cosima holds tight to Rumil, looking around worriedly. I never told her what we might face in the mountains, and maybe that wasn’t the right decision. Every sound makes her jump — she’s obviously expecting to be attacked at any second.

My eyes shift to Alexander, the most recent addition to our group, and I fight the urge to narrow my eyes. I don’t trust him. Not that I automatically trusted Cosima, but she hasn’t given me any reason to be suspicious. She helps with the chores and talks with us freely, even if she has been pulling back a little lately. Alexander can’t boast the same. He’s been nothing but standoffish and keeps himself isolated from the group — dragging Cosima with him.

He glowers at me, and I return his glare. Of course, mine has the force of nearly three thousand years as Marchwarden behind it, and the human quickly looks away.

I return to my inspection of the group. Cosima’s cloak is a beautiful, vibrant red—obviously made for style rather than the stealth and durability needed for travel. I haven’t the faintest idea why she would choose to dress that way if she knew she’d be traveling, nor what kind of leader wouldn’t catch it and make her change. This only serves to irritate the thought that’s been budding in the back of my mind since her arrival. Maybe she really isn’t from our world. Stranger things have happened. Alexander, too, has an unusual cloak, though not as bad as Cosima’s. His is a deep forest green — expensive, the kind that would take months of precise dyeing. Still a suitable color for travel, but not at all practical — already, it’s darkening with mud kicked up on our journey, ruining the maker’s handiwork. I don’t understand it and the mystery of their origins are too much to ponder on the road. So I resolve to deal with what I can now and handle the rest later. At present, Cosima can’t travel through the mountains in that bright red cloak.

I get her attention. “Put your cloak away in your bag, it’s too noticeable. If you get cold, someone will lend you theirs.” She visibly blanches at my words but balances herself atop Roch to do as I say. She is so clearly frightened and part of me wants to reassure her, to tell her not to worry, it’s just a precaution. But I can’t. Lying might make her feel better, but it would also set her at a disadvantage. It is better for her to be on edge. It will keep her sharp, and staying sharp can be the difference between life and death. I wouldn’t sugarcoat it for one of my wardens, so I won’t sugarcoat it for her.

Still, I can’t help myself from offering her some measure of security. I instruct Rumil to take position behind me and send Orophin to guard the back of our line. Perhaps Cosima will feel better being towards the middle of the group rather than at the very back — it is safer.

I put on my most well-practiced fortifying look and address the group. “Remember to ration your water — we won’t come across another stream for some time. With luck and perseverance, we will reach Imladris in five days. Cosima and Alexander — if we are attacked, stay on your horses. Rumil and Baranor will protect you.”

Rumil chuckles lowly and leans back in his seat to whisper to Cosima. “I can’t keep you safe if you strangle me first. Relax.”

Cosima laughs sheepishly and seems to make a concentrated effort at loosening her arms around Rumil.

I pull my eyes away, turning to look the right way down the path.

And off we go.

{***}

Weather in the mountains is unpredictable. There’s a faint breeze hinting at the possibility of rain, and I pray against it. Humans are so fragile compared to elves and I worry the two newcomers won’t do well in another day of downpour. I don’t mind the harsher conditions, my brothers, either — Valar knows how many drills we’ve run, battles we’ve fought in the extremes. But the humans, even Baranor, aren’t so conditioned.

I stop our company a little later than usual and send Rumil and Orophin to take first watch. Baranor pulls Alexander aside to redress the wound on his leg. Cosima and I stay to tend to the horses.

She glances at me from where she brushes Roch’s coat. I raise an eyebrow, cleaning my own horse. She purses her lips and I can tell that she’s scrutinizing me.

“You don’t like the mountains.”

There’s no point in lying. “No. Too many places for the enemy to hide.”

She’s silent for a moment, likely thinking through my words. Unexpectedly, I feel the bite of regret — I probably just scared her again. I should have kept my mouth shut.

Thankfully though, she doesn’t seem frightened. She smiles, a sort of serenity settling on her. “It’s kind of pretty though, if you can find a moment to enjoy it. Did you see the sun sinking over that peak way in front of us? It turned the sky purple and gold.”

I did notice the sky, but only briefly. I hadn’t even stopped to ponder its beauty, only checked to ensure no one hid on the horizon.

She sees the answer in my face and grins, shaking her head. “Maybe you’ll be able to relax once we reach Imladris. What’s it like, there?”

Now it’s my turn to smile, recalling my second favorite place in the world. “Beautiful — much more so than these mountains. There are waterfalls taller than any I’ve ever seen and they cast rainbows at sunrise and sunset. The main city rests on those falls and you can see the water sweeping under you, falling over the cliffs.”

She stares at Roch’s coat, a distant look in her eye. “How long are you planning to stay?”

You. Her question hangs between us as I analyze her use of the word. She didn’t say ‘we’ or make any reference to herself and Alexander. She’s making no promise to stay. That realization shouldn’t bother me, but, nevertheless, I feel discomfort settle in my stomach. I try to distract myself by answering her question. “A month or two, three at most. The journey home will take about three weeks and I want us in Lothlórien well before winter sets in.”

“What’s your favorite food?”

I blink, trying to follow her line of reasoning. I’ve got nothing. “How does that relate to what I just said?”

She closes her eyes, the peace leaving her and morphing into a pleading, distressed look. “Please just answer the question.”

The feeling in my stomach worsens and I hurry to say something to try and put her more at ease. “Honeyed breadrolls,” I blurt, not even sure if that’s my favorite.

She laughs weakly, looking at me from the side of her eyes. “That’s not a balanced meal.”

I grin, relieved to see the stress beginning to fade from her face. “You said favorite food, not healthiest.”

“Oh right, my bad.” She rolls her eyes, a playful light there that wasn’t present before.

Evidently annoyed with the lack of attention, Roch bumps his head against Cosima’s shoulder, snorting noisily. She giggles and pets the horse affectionately.

“He likes you,” I observe, the sight of them bringing a smile to my face.

Cosima shrugs. “He just wants snacks.”

There’s a pause and I feel a sense of urgency, needing to fill the silence before the conversation can come to an end. “What’s yours?”

She furrows her eyebrows. “Hm?”

“Your favorite food.”

“Oh.” She pauses, looking at the ground in thought. When her eyes return to mine, she looks a little lost. “I don’t know. I don’t mind the lembas bread and fruits, though I couldn’t say for sure if it’s my favorite because I can’t remember much from my homeworld. I guess—well, I do remember some food here and there, but nothing stands out as my all-time favorite.”

Her admission seems to make her sad. I can understand that — it must be terrible to not know who you were or what your life was like. Once again, I feel the need to make her feel better. “Elrond won’t let us go hungry. There will be many new things for you to try.”

She opens her mouth, a spark lighting in her eyes, ready to respond.

The loud, heavy footsteps give away Alexander’s approach. Cosima hears it too and turns to see her incoming friend.

I let my face fall into a neutral expression, not entirely pleased with Alexander’s arrival. He is a lost human in need of help, just like Cosima, so I will offer him my protection and aid, just as I did to the woman at my side.

But that doesn’t mean I have to like him.

From what I’ve observed, he has a manipulative streak that I do not trust. I can understand not being ready to accept his new reality, but Cosima is trying to move on. He shouldn’t try to interfere with her progress.

He addresses Cosima only. “I’ve got dinner for us both. Meet me on the rock when you’re done?”

She shifts her feet, looking uncertain.

“No, you will stay with the main camp.” I hear my voice before I make the actual decision to speak. Cosima nods automatically—and, is it my imagination, or does she look a little relieved?Alexander only grimaces.

“Why?”

A muscle twitches in my cheek. I’m used to leading wardens that follow my every order. In this environment, one that is fraught with danger and requires constant attention and strict regimentation, I don’t like my orders being questioned. It’s not only a waste of time, but a danger to us all. I know well from the battlefield that hesitation—that single moment of questioning—can be the difference between life and death.

I raise an eyebrow, meeting the human’s challenging gaze. “The danger is heightened in these mountains. While you travel with my company, I am responsible for your safety. I will not have you all spread out — it makes it more difficult to protect you should the need arise.”

“I don’t want to sleep on a rock, anyway.” Cosima surprises us both by speaking up.

Alexander squints, looking quite caught off guard that she’s sided against him. “What—“

“Haldir’s right. It’s too dangerous and besides, the grass is softer.”

Alexander opens and closes his mouth a few times, then exhales, shaking his head and stomping back to camp. Cosima turns to Roch and resumes brushing his coat, a new tension in her jaw.

I try to broach the subject delicately. I’m not entirely sure it’s my business, but I suppose any information into the pasts of these mysterious humans is useful. “Do you remember much of your relationship with Alexander from before? Do you know what he was like?”

She closes her eyes—something she does when she’s stressed, I note—and sighs before opening them again. “I’ve been asking myself that a lot recently. I get that this whole…whatever it is, is impossible. I know that. And he does, too, which is why he’s having such a hard time adjusting.”

I bristle at the insinuation that I and my world aren’t real, but then make myself relax, putting myself in Cosima’s shoes. How would I feel if I woke up in a world completely different from the little I could remember?

She continues. “But I like it here. It’s beautiful and exciting and there’s so much to explore…I’m making friends.” She smiles up at me shyly, and I immediately return it. We are friends. I don’t know when or how it happened but we are. I like having her around.

“But with Alex…” She shrugs her shoulders. “I don’t know. I’m having a hard time not accepting my life here because it’s all I really know. I don’t have anything else to hold on to. Alex can’t seem to do that…I wonder if he remembers more than he lets on.”

I keep my expression carefully blank. I’ve been pondering the same thing. Something she said does bother me, though. She didn’t say she’s having a hard time accepting our world, but not accepting it. What’s holding her back? I try to dig around. “Cosima, this is your world now. Why wouldn’t you want to accept it?”

She shakes her head slowly, the sadness creeping back. “I can’t accept my life here because there’s no way it’s possible. I trust you and your brothers and Baranor, but something about this place is off. It’s completely unnatural—from what I remember of my world, we don’t have elves. We have cars instead of horses and ways to communicate that stretch across the globe.” Her voice rises in pitch, the first misty hints of tears entering her eyes. “And there’s only one world. There’s no way to go back or forward in time or hop to another planet or—”

“That you know,” I correct, unable to keep my mouth shut any longer. Seeing her struggle is not only upsetting, it’s frustrating. She is here, and this world is as real as she is, as real as I am. All this back and forth is pointless. “You said it yourself—you don’t remember much about your home world. And even if you remembered everything, who’s to say that you could know everything? For all you know, you fell asleep in your world and woke up in mine. And, at present, I don’t know of any way to send you back. Elrond or the Lady might, but that’s not a question we can answer until later. So for now, you need to accept this world. Because you are here. This world is real and your life here is real.”

She takes in a shaky breath.

I freeze. Oh Valar. I’ve made her cry.

I hurry to try to undo it. “Cosima—”

“No.” She cuts me off, wiping the corner of her eyes with her sleeve. “I needed to hear that. You’re right. I’m only wasting time and stressing myself out with all this. Because regardless of what I think is logical or possible, the fact remains that I am here in Arda and I feel real and alive. And so does this world. And so do you.” Her eyes, still shiny with tears, meet mine and she offers me a watery smile.

I accept it with a breath of relief and work consciously to soften my tone. “I’m sorry. I did not mean to make you cry.”

“Oh,” she chuckles softly, still wiping away her tears. “I don’t think it’s your fault. I’m just tired and stressed and—what was it you said again?” She throws me a teasing look and I know she’s about to bring up my earlier comment. “You said I was sensitive. That’s right.”

I hold back a groan. Probably not the most well-advised thing I’ve ever said. “I only meant that you are more expressive with your emotions than I or others that—”

“Nope. I’m gonna stop you right there.” She holds up a hand, thankfully still in a joking mood. “You’ll only make it worse for yourself.”

She’s probably right. So I halt my attempts, shaking my head and laughing at myself. “I suppose I should apologize for that too?”

She shrugs off-handedly. “Nah. Because for the record, about the time you decided I was sensitive, I decided you’re way too serious.”

And, with that, she sets Roch free to graze and jaunts back to camp.

{***}

Aside from the brief interlude with Cosima, I don’t allow myself to relax as we continue through the mountains. There are too many peaks and rocks and caves and crevices where the enemy can hide. All it would take is one well-aimed arrow to fell one of my companions, or myself. I have to be vigilant. They’re trusting me, and I must not let them down.

{***}

On the third night in the mountains, Rumil and Orophin stage a sort of intervention, trying to force me into a full night’s rest.

“Brother, you have stood watch every night for the past five nights and most of the nights before that.”

“I am fine,” I retort, straightening my back. “I am perfectly capable of sacrificing rest to keep watch of our surroundings.”

“But without rest you will grow weary and slow,” Orophin adds, planting himself to stop me from walking past him. “You will not be at your best and cannot keep us safe as you could if you had proper rest.” He raises his voice to drown out my protests. “Rumil and I will stand watch all night—we will be vigilant.”

“Now, go lay down and get a full night’s rest willingly, or Baranor is prepared to drug you.” At this, Rumil smiles broadly. He is only joking. And, capable though Baranor is, I have no doubt in my ability to stop him from forcing herbs into my mouth.

But my brothers have a point. Though I am used to many restless nights from battle and my patrol of the borders, I have not slept for more than a few hours in many nights. I feel the heaviness in my eyes, the weariness in my bones, and, though I know I could push through, it is of no benefit to my company. So, reluctantly, I sheathe my sword, nodding to my brothers. “Wake me if there is any trouble.”

Orophin agrees readily. “Of course. You’ve trained us well.”

At this, I must grin, remembering the countless hours I put into developing and perfecting their skills. “I know.”

I leave the outcropping of rocks that has become our watch station and jog the short distance back to camp.

“Wow, look who’s decided to join us for a change,” Cosima jokes. There’s a note in her voice that tells me she had knowledge of, if not a hand in, my brothers’ plan.

I roll my eyes, matching her teasing tone. “I couldn’t leave the three of you unattended for long—who knows the trouble you could have gotten in?”

“Oh, yeah. Baranor  was about to redress Alex’s wound — troublesome, indeed.”

I sit on the empty mat in between her and Baranor, greeting my elven friend with a nod. Alexander doesn’t acknowledge me, so I don’t acknowledge him.

Cosima passes me a bundle of leaves containing a ration of lembas bread and a handful of blackberries. I smile my thanks and take the food eagerly—I haven’t eaten since morning.

“Glad to see you resting, mellon nîn,” Baranor nods in my direction then returns his attention to Alexander’s leg. The herbs and healing power in Baranor’s spirit have done wonders, but the traveling aggravates the wound. Really, he should take a few days to rest, but we do not have that luxury.

Cosima breaks a piece off her own bread. “How long until we reach Imladris?”

“Within three days, I imagine.” It’s an estimate, but a fairly accurate one, I’d wager. After many journeys, I know these mountains quite well.

She smiles. “That’s not too bad.”

“Agreed.” Baranor sighs and nods, indicating that he’s done dressing Alexander’s wound. He returns to his mat on the other side of our bags, completing the circle we lounge in.

A particularly strong gust of wind blows my hair around. Cosima shudders, pulling her blanket tighter over her shoulders — her cloak is still in her bag. Temperature doesn’t bother elves in the same way it does humans, I remember. I shed my cloak of deep grey, holding it out for her to take. “Here.”

Her eyes go wide, and she shakes her head vehemently. “Oh, don’t worry about it. I don’t want you to be—”

“Take the cloak, Cosima.”

She bites back a smile, and I know why. Even as I was trying to be nice, I still ended up making it an order. Oops. But it did the trick. She takes the cloak, wrapping herself tightly in it and then adding the blanket for an extra layer of warmth. “Thank you.”

I only nod in response. After all, it’s my job to see that each member of my company is cared for.  That includes fragile humans who could possibly die from exposure to the elements. And, thankfully, she does look much warmer now — her shivers have subsided and the wind only has the chance to bother her face, as the rest of her body is encapsulated in a cocoon of cloth.

“So Haldir, what do you do?” Alexander’s direct question catches me off guard, as well as the suspicion behind it.

I bristle. “Pardon?”

Alexander raises his chin, eyes narrowed at me. “What is your job? Because you seem awfully comfortable ordering people around.”

I forget how immature humans can be. I push against the annoyance that rises within me. “I am charged with the protection of my realm.”

“So you left it unguarded?”

I speak through clenched teeth. “I took leave.”

“So if you’re on leave then why are you still in charge? We’re nowhere near your realm.”

I feel my pulse quicken. “The others have accepted my authority. I am the most experienced—”

“Have I accepted your authority? Has Cosima?” He raises a challenging eyebrow.

“Uh, don’t bring me into this,” Cosima practically yelps, pulling the fabric tighter around her.

“Yes, this is a good time to stop,” Baranor interjects, looking completely serene — the exact opposite of how Alexander and I must look.

“It’s getting late,” Cosima agrees, darting nervous looks between me and her human friend. “We should all get some sleep.”

Alexander and I stare each other down. I feel no small amount of pride when he breaks his gaze first, then admonish myself for my immaturity. I should have handled that better — I know better than he does. Unbidden, my eyes dart to Cosima. Has my arguing with her closest friend upset her?

But thankfully, she smiles at me when my eyes meet hers, then reclines on her mat. Her voice rings over the small clearing, effectively ending any discussion between us all for the evening. Probably for the best. “Goodnight.”

And, though I am still angry, my body and mind cannot ignore how exhausted I am after days of insufficient sleep. It doesn’t take long for me to find rest.

A/n Thanks for reading! Likes, comments, and reblogs make my day :) Let me know if you would like a tag! And if you’re having trouble being tagged, try subscribing on Ao3! That will notify you automatically when I post there. 

|next part|

|masterlist|

Tolkien tag list: @anangelwhodidntfall @eru-vande

Double Heart tag list: @lainphotography @fangirl-nonsense @themerriweathermage @thophil2941btw @kenobiguacamole @wishingtobeinadifferentuniverse @from-patroclus-with-love @boywivlove @tolkien-apologist @ordinarymom1 

**Strikethrough means Tumblr won’t let me tag you**

#lotr #lord of the rings #tolkien #haldir of lorien #haldir #haldir x oc #haldir x ofc #haldir x own character #haldir x own female character #tolkien elves #lothlorien elves #haldir fic #haldir fanfic #haldir fanfiction #haldir multi chapter work #orophin #rumil #ofc x haldir #haldir of lorien x ofc #haldir o lorein #haldir of lothlorien #lorien elves

[dancingthesambaa]

The Smell of Plum Blossom Tea Ch 6

Summary: Just like a butterfly wing, a single act of kindness can change the course of the future, it certainly did for MK as a black-furred monkey put out a hand towards him.

Rating: Teen and up

Chapter 6: And So It Begins

“I’m back,” MK tiredly said as he dragged his form out of the blazing sun and into the cool restaurant, “orders delivered, traffic long and people angry, but food is delivered.”

“Great, but you still have another delivery,” Pigsy replied as his back was turned.

“Just one,” he grinned, “compared to the other ten this will be a piece-,”

He slammed down 30 orders down in front of him on the already bustling counter.

“Of cake,” he deflated as he saw the monumental amount of food. “What the-Are we feeding an entire town?!”

“Close. Party, though I should have charged their ungrateful asses extra for the rush order,” he growled out, “who gives an hour warning Huh?!”

“Apparently them,” he groaned as he picked up and carried the whole load into the car.

“And when you get back, there are a dozen more orders to take care of,” Pigsy called out.

“Got it bossman,” he yelled out, then he slammed the door closed and he sat up straight with a grin, “alright this won’t be so bad.”

“BEEF? BEEF?!! I WANTED MISO! GET IT RIGHT YOU STUPID DRIVER! The voice yelled out at MK as the two stood at the doorway.

“I’m sorry but-,” he winced as he was cut off by the rude woman screech.

“You better be sorry! I could have your job for this big of a screw up! You are nothing!”

“Technically I just delivered your food,” he whispered to himself.

“What did you just say?”

“Nothing!” He put on his best service smile, “I’m very sorry about this, how about I take your food back so that I can-.”

Splat

MK watched as the woman threw down her food in a fit of rage.

“There’s your damn food, now pick it up and get me a new one,” she spat out.

MK looked down at the pile of food that Pigsy put his sweat and blood into slowly dripping off the stone stairs. He took a deep breath as he put his hand in his pocket to subtly squeeze the stress ball and looked at the woman.

“I’m not cleaning that up,” he deadpans and walks back to the car.

“What?!”

“Also,” he rolled down his window when he got in the car, “if you would like to order for a party, next time call ahead of time.” He then quickly drove off until he could no longer hear the yells of the angry woman.

He rode until he reached the grocery store, parked at the edges of the lot where there were barely any cars, unbuckled his seat belt, and laid his head on top of the wheel.

“I. Hate. People. Sometimes.” He lightly banged his head with each word then he leaned back and took out the ball and squeezed it a few times. “I really do.”

He likes to think of himself as a pretty optimistic person, after having his whole life turned around and learning things can get better, he likes to think that the world can be good. But days like these, people like those, make him really put that side of him to the test and today he very much failed that. He should be glad that he didn’t go off on her, like what Pigsy did when some dude tried to scam him or Mei when she is feeling very competitive over some a-holes, but at the same time that sounds amazing.

He squeezed the ball a little tighter.

“I really want to see Dad right now,” he muttered to himself. It would be so easy, just one yell to him and he would be over in less than a second. “I really want him right now…but I made a promise to myself that I would do this without him.”

So he took a deep breath, lifted his head, put on his music, put away his rainbow stress ball, and slowly began his drive back to Pigsy restaurant.

It was during that drive back that he got a call, “Hello?”

“Hey MK, it’s me,” he stopped as he heard Pigsy's voice, he had a feeling he knows what this is about.

“Heyyy Pigsy, I’m almost at the store,” he tried and failed, to sound casual.

“I just got off a call with a very rude customer who said that you threw down her food when she was being oh so kind,” he bluntly said, “even mentioned about assaulting her.”

“That is so not how any of that went down!” He immediately said, “she yelled at me for saying that I made her food wrong and I told her that it can be redone, but she decided to instead throw down all of that food herself and told me to clean it up! Who does that?! And all of this was after she put her hand all through that food, which is so gross by the way, I mean other people are eating that, cause I know she ain’t-,” he was cut off by Pigsy chuckles.

“You don’t need to explain anything, I know you for far too long to even think that you would put too much salt in someone's food let alone throwing it down on the ground.”

“Oh,” he calmed down as he released the tension from the wheel, “that’s good.”

“Yeah, I told it to her straight just exactly how I felt about her being an utter ass to not only myself but my employees. Let’s just say that she was not happy about that and threaten to sue,” he could almost hear him shrug.

“What no!” He tried to stand up, only to realize he was still in the car and he was still buckled up. “I am so sorry!”

“Don’t be, cause jokes on her the world we live in has become pretty up to date with security and, more importantly, security cameras,” he said with a grin, “I don’t think she’s gonna get a single cent when everything that went down was all on video.”

MK let a smile spread across his face, bless technology and all its glory. “That’s good.”

“It sure is. Do you want to take a breather when you come back? I know that woman was more than a handful that what you're used to,” he asked in concern.

“Nope,” he cheerfully said, “I am A-Ok! Just get those next orders ready for me so I can deliver!”

“Well if you're certain, get your ass back here on the double,” he said, but the teenager could tell it was more playful, “we got orders waiting to be delivered.”

“On my way!” He saluted to no one and hung up. “Alright! Let’s get a move on!”

‘Make sure to add the cohesive before the mixing,’ the voice silently thought to himself.

“It would be so easy just to make that jump, hell my youngest kit sister can make that and she’s not even a month old,” a voice bragged.

‘Combine the Feins roots with the Elia petals first to dilute the solution.’

“All I’m saying is that if you try to jump off the cliff of perils then I sure as hell am not catching you,” another voice deadpanned.

“Nahhh I would be fine.”

‘…dice the Oran berries and Pecha then add when the next stage is ready.’

“If you count being splattered into tiny little pieces fine, then, by all means, go ahead,” another voice sighed.

‘Make sure that the color is a deep orange hue and not dark yellow, that can-,’

“Ye o little faith.”

“No, you are of little sanity. Even my younger gremlins know better,” she shot back.

‘That can easily violate the substance,’

“But they don’t have the certain skills like I do,” they bragged.

‘…leading to a-,’

“It still wouldn’t be a wise thing to do,” a deep voice pointed out.

‘Leads to a-,’ his vial cracked in his hands as he was once again interrupted.

“No, but it would be fun-.”

“I swear,” everyone turned to face the irritated monkey, “to all things good in this world and the next, if you dumbasses don’t shut the fuck up in the next five seconds I will make the Piñata fiasco at the Boiling Isles look like a god damn nap compared to what I’m gonna do to you.”

“Sorry, were we disturbing you,” Yanyu cheekily said.

“You little-”

“Awwww I’m soo sorry,” Daiyu mocked.

“I swear-”

“We didn’t mean to interrupt your monologue,” Minsheng smirked, “you know it kinda reminds me of Flicker when you do that.”

“That’s it!” He slammed down his ingredients, opened his drawers, and took out a roll of duct tape, “come here you little bastards!” He yelled out as he began to chase down the three annoyances.

“Same as usual,” Bohai sighed as he drank his tea.

“One would think not to mess with Mac when he’s like this,” Ahmed commented.

“Especially when he’s in his mood.”

“Especially that.”

“Now shut it,” he proudly said as he sat on top of his third victim.

“Hey hey!” Daiyu struggled to break free, “we were trying to lighten your mood fuzzball.”

“By annoying the shit out of me,” he growled as he taped her beak shut. “Fat chance, anyone else,” he looks over to his other two remaking friends.

“I say nothing,” the jellyfish put his tentacles up in surrender.

“While they may have been a bit well-,”

“Fucking annoying,” the monkey bluntly said.

“Yes that, they did have a purpose to their madness,” the lion pointed out.

“What? What could they possibly want badly enough to annoy the absolute fuck out of me?!”

“You have empty bird nest syndrome.”

“…what?”

“I said-”

“I heard you the first time!” Macaque interrupted, “I do not have that! I am use to MK not being home day to day, so why the hell would you thi-,”

“For days,” Yanyu said once she ripped the tape off her mouth, “but not for longer than a week.”

“Same difference!”

“Nah pal it ain’t,” the bunny demon said as they chewed on their own tape, “I can see it as bright as day, you have been extra moody and hella sad these past couple of days. It’s just like mum, whenever one decides to leave the warren, she gets all glum and broody for days.”

“I am not broody!” His tail swished violently.

“But you do miss him,” Ahmed stated.

“I don’t-”

“And it’s okay if you do.”

“I don’t miss him, I can visit anytime,” he stated.

“You still miss him being there, being next to you,” the lone human gave his ponytail a playful tug and sat next to Mac, who was still sitting on top of the tied-up vulture. “Take it from a big sister, when Shu moved out to live in the dorms I was so happy for him, but as time went on I noticed that I didn’t hear his off pitch singing in the afternoon nor did I hear his voice amongst my gremlins over who gets the last brownie. I didn’t miss him, hell I could video chat with him anytime, but I missed his presence, you know.”

Macaque just gave her a hard look before sighing, “He used to hum to himself whenever he was bored,” he admitted as he got off his friend and slumped down next to her.

Yanyu just patted his shoulder as he continued.

“I know I can just visit him, but my kid is growing up, he’s learning to stand on his own and he should have his own life separate from me.”

“Yeah imma stop you there,” Sheng rolled his eyes, “you are being one over dramatic monkey right now if you think that just because he’s doing his own thing, doesn’t mean that he doesn't have time for you. Hell, you are the one demon he will always have time for no matter what.”

“But-”

“Ain’t no buts about it fuzzbrain,” Daiyu squawked out once she feared the tape off, “your hatching adores the shit out of you and if you don’t think he won’t spend time with you then you are dead wrong.”

“He should have that time to himself, he is just starting out all on his own…without me…,” he slumped in depression, but quickly shot up due to a shocking touch, “OW! FUCKING WHY BOHAI!”

“You're being an idiot,” he smugly said as he lowered his tendril.

“Thanks,” Yanyu nodded to him, “and he’s right. I know that this whole thing won’t end with this so here’s what we’re gonna do. The six of us are going to go to Qián city.”

“…why the fuck are we going to the underwater city of Shanghai?” He incredulously looked at her.

“Cause you seriously need to relax.”

“I don’t-”

“You spent most of your time in the garden or prepping medicine that you don’t need,” Ahmed calmly said as he cleaned up the mess that Mac made.

“…you may have a point, but I don’t really feel like I should leave, what if MK or Mei happens to call?” He said.

“Well one, I know damn well that your hearing exceeds that city's borders,” Sheng points out.

“Okay true.”

“And second, we have the beauty of phones, which allows people to fall from far away,” Yanyu slowly told him as if he was a child, “I taught you this in one of our first lessons.”

“Don’t patronize me,” he muttered, “but I don’t-”

“You either go willingly or Kit Kat over here is going to drag you,” she pointed to Ahmed.

“He wouldn’t-”

“I really would,” he had to stop a smile at the utter betrayal in the monkey's face.

“I could beat your ass again,” he grumbled.

“You very well could,” he agreed, “but then you would also have to go against everyone else and they will happily drag both you and me off.”

“Fine!” He throws his hand in the air.

“Got ‘em!” Sheng high-fived Yanyu.

“Told you he would cave in eventually,” the vulture grinned.

“But we are going there to strictly relax, that means no explosions, arsons, paralyzing, hacking, or prison riots.”

“What about stealing and graffitiing,” the bluenette raised her hand.

“If there assholes, be my fucking guest, but your ass better not get caught.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll be more stealthy than sneaking into the police hub to get rid of the evidence,” she cockily stated.

“What?”

“What.”

“…you know what the less I know the better.”

“Good choice, so let’s get packing!” She excitedly said as she, Daiyu, Minsheng, and Bohai exited the infirmary.

“So are you gonna tell them that the game dealers there are more than likely to scam them before or after they get robbed?” Ahmed curiously asked.

“After, they need a lesson on not annoying the fuck out of me when I’m working,” he gave a mischievous grin.

“Quite rude of you,” he grinned.

“But you're smiling too.”

Ahmed chuckled lightly as the two left the infirmary.

It was a quiet day at the restaurant, the dinner rush had just ended and all that was really left to do was wait for the store to close and clean up what’s left. The only customers inside were Mei and Tang, both of whom have long since finished eating and are currently just chatting, or laying down, with MK over the counter.

“So how’re your online classes treating you?” Mei asked.

“Great!” He perked up as he took his eyes off the creepy butterfly in the corner of the restaurant, “I’m just about finished with my general study.”

“Ooo, does that mean you finally have a major in mind,” Mei leaned in.

“No I do not.” He cheerfully stated.

All of them, including Pigsy who was listening in, facepalmed.

“Mkkk,” the nineteen year old groaned.

“I knowww,” he slumped down, “but it’s hard deciding what to do for the rest of your life.”

“Well that is okay,” the historian softly said, “you're still young, you have your whole life ahead of you. Besides, college is not for everyone.”

“Yeahhh, so how’re your classes going Mei Mei?” MK turned to his friend, “I know you been taking some of the engineering courses.”

“Ugghhh, don’t get me started,” she slumped down in her seat, “I love it, but that is seriously kicking my ass right now. If I didn’t like to make sweet ass rides then I would have totally just dropped it.”

“Let me guess, for racing,” MK said as he sprayed down the counter.

“Duh, I’m gonna be so fast that when they're only halfway, I've already passed that finish line baby!” Mei screamed.

“Shhhhh,” Tang hushed as he held his head against the cool counter, “not so loud please.”

“You okay there Tang?” Pigsy asked as he moved closer to his friend, “you’ve been like that ever since you got in.”

“Yeah, it’s just this headache has been killing me and my usual medicine isn’t doing a thing,” sighed as he leaned into the warm hand touching his head.

“Doesn’t seem like you have a fever at least,” the pig mutters.

“Do you have any coughing, sneezing, nausea, or any other symptoms?” MK curiously asked as he sat up.

“I have been feeling a bit nauseous,” he murmured.

“Sharp ringing in your ears on and off?”

“Yesss,” he groaned out.

“Hmm hold on,” MK quickly went upstairs, everyone heard faint shuffling noises before he came back down as fast as he was carrying a small baggie, “Can I use your stove and teapot?”

“Go right ahead,” Pigsy agreed.

MK gave a quick smile and they all watched him make a pot of tea, but instead of teabags, he added some of the plants that were inside the bag.

“Here you go,” MK presented the tea to the historian once it was done.

Tang hesitated for a moment before accepting the cup, “…what is it?”

“Medicine. Drink,” he gave him a wide-eyed look.

“...alright,” he shrugged his shoulders and joked, “if this kills me, just burn my corpse.”

“Drink,” MK commanded once more.

Tang drank his tea instead of retorting back and his eyes widen at the taste of it.

“Are ya dead?” Mei asked.

“Feel the poison seeping in,” the pig demon joked.

“This is really good,” he complimented MK and he began to drink more.

“Thanks, it’s Dad’s special recipe diluted when it comes to dealing with migraines,” he happily announced.

“Diluted? I can already feel my migraine already going away, how bad is his if this is diluted?” Tang asked with much concern.

MK grimace as he shared a look with Mei. He can’t help the memories all filtering in of his father lying in bed clutching onto the headphones as it tightly covered all six of his ears. There is never a pattern to when this happens, but he knew to keep a pot of tea hot and a bowl of mango or other non-citrusy fruit available on those days.

“It’s pretty bad,” was all he said.

“Oh,” both adults shared a look before Tang put on a grin as he slurped down his tea, “well this really works, what in it?”

“It’s Feverfew Tea with some Pika berries,” said MK.

“I’ve heard of Feverfew, but I don’t think Pika rings a bell,” Pigsy hummed totally missing Mei’s shocked face.

“Why I never-,”

“No, it’s not pokemon,” MK quickly shut that down before she got to her rant.

‘’Awww,” she deflated.

“It’s from Kunlun peak.”

Tang immediately choked on his tea, “AK! Did you just say Kunlun peak!”

“Yep!”

“What’s so special about that,” she glumly asks.

“Mount Kunlun is known to be a mythical mountain that hikers and historians have been searching for centuries,” Tang began, “It’s said to hold both mythical animals and plants, each having extraordinary potential within them as even the Gods from above go down there for certain herbs and items needed for their potions. It just lays there on top of the highest peak, but no person nor demon has ever had a straight map leading there and you’re telling me your Dad, Macaque, went there?!”

“He goes there a few times a year,” the teenager proudly says.

He looks down at his tea with sparkles in his eyes, “I’m drinking magic tea made from the legendary mountain,” he gave a big slurp as he inhaled it and stood up.

Pigsy eyed the drink, neither teenager knew if it was in envy or jealousy.

“But I’m impressed MK,” Mei playfully punched his shoulder, “look at you being all smart about medicine.”

“Well I hear Dad mutter on and on about different types of herbs and their properties on a day to day basis, that it eventually gets stuck in my head you know,” he joked then he paused as an interesting thought occurred to him, “wait a moment.”

They all watch MK have a silent conversation to himself, complete with waving hands, multiple facial expressions, draw a few sketches on his notepad, and finish with a final glow of his eyes as he leaped up in the air.

“That’s it!”

“What’s it?” The owner said.

“Why didn’t I think of this before!”

“Think of what before?” The historian asked.

“It was seriously in front of me this entire time!”

“MK, I swear if you don’t tell us what’s up right now I am not liable to my next actions,” Mei threatened.

“I can be a Doctor!” He leaned forward in excitement, “or at least something along those lines!”

“You can be pop’s assistant!” Mei started to get excited alongside him, “how the hell did I not think of it either?!”

“I don’t know!”

“It does suit you,” the demon agreed. He knows the kid is smart, he has seen his grades, so it’s not far fetched to assume that he can do this rigorous task. “Hope you have good study habits, I know mines was absolute garbage back in school.”

“With notecards and all,” MK hates studying, his brain goes brrr during those times, but he can’t thank Yanyu and Bohai enough for teaching him different tricks to help keep focus. “Now I’m thinking maybe of being a pharmacist, cause I don’t think I do well with surgery.”

“There are also the ones who diagnose the disease using the X-ray thingie,” she snapped her finger as she tried to remember.

“Radiologist,” Tang called out.

“Yeah that!” She pointed to him.

“Ooo that also sounds interesting,” MK and Mei continued their animated talk as both adults watched.

“It’s nice to see them so happy,” the noodle lover let out a content smile as he drank some more of his tea.

“I hear that,” Pigsy then looked at the man cup in confusion, “by the way you’ve been drinking, I thought you would have already been finished by now.”

“With my first cup yes, I’m on my third one now.”

“How in the-I didn’t even see you leave this area!”

“Magic tea is magic,” was all Tang said.

Pigsy exploded, “That doesn’t explain shit!”

“Well too bad,” he gave a loud slurp once more.

SLURPPP

“You know what, two can play that game,” the human was confused when the pig demon got up and left the room. He was no longer confused as he came back with a cup of tea in hand.

“You wouldn’t dare,” Tang threatened the pig.

The pig looked him straight in the eye and, with a sly smirk, drank down the tea.

SLURRPP

“You heathen!” He shrieked as he banged his hands on the counter and stood up, “how dare you drink my magic tea!”

“Well next time don’t be rude as fuck!” He shot back and got in his face as well.

“That’s rich coming from you!”

“Says the freeloader!”

“Oh here we go again! You know, if you wanted some tea you could have asked!”

“My stove, my cups, my pot, mine.”

“But it was made for me!”

“Yeah well-wait hold up, you feel better right,” Pigsy dropped his screaming as he softly asked his friend, “no drill pounding in your head?”

“Yeah I’m fine now, it really does work miracles,” Tang also lowered his voice.

“That’s good.”

“…they really do act like an old married couple,” Mei announces, MK facepalmed as both adults separated from each other and yelled.

“WE ARE NOT!”

“I’m really sorry about such short notice,” the panda bear demon on call apologized once more to Macaque as he was quickly gathering his ingredients.

“Don’t apologize, shit like this happens,” he waved him off, “I’ll take me a couple of days, a week at max, but I’ll be there before the poison reaches its peak.”

“Thank you,” the panda bowed to him.

“Make sure to store away any semblance of caffeine, alcohol, or anything high in potassium, those are the fastest ways to speed up the process,” he instructed him.

“I’ve been meaning to take away Mink coffee stash, now I have a reason,” he chuckled, “I’ll see you soon.”

“Will do bossman,” he hung up the call and called another number as he continued to pack. Once it picked up he put a smile on his face, “Hey Comet, how’s it going?”

“Good!” The twenty year old happily responded. “You wouldn’t believe it, but the classes are actually kinda easy to understand. They’re still tricky, especially the tests, but Yanyu was right about you teaching this. It made almost all my classes so much easier thanks to you.”

“Aww, that’s another one for my ego,” he joked then he put on a more serious tone, “but I didn’t just call you here for a chat kiddo.”

“Why what’s up? Is there something wrong?” MK suddenly asked as he leaned in, “Do I have to get Mei here and help kick some asses?!”

“Snrk, no nothing like that,” he let out a snort, “you know Po right?”

“Yeah, he’s the panda demon who comes in to get pain relief, muscle relaxants, and other types of medicine for his students? Does this have something to do with him?”

“Close, his disciples messed up big time and accidentally inhaled a bunch of toxic fog when they faced off against an elephant demon.”

“How can an elephant make poison?” MK questioned.

“Magic can do the weirdest of things, I mean I’m a monkey that can do shadow magic,” he pointed out.

“True, okay so he’s gonna come over to pick up the antidote? I don’t see what’s the big problem?”

“Here’s the bad part, Po can’t make a round trip, cause the time he gets back, all of his students…might not be alive,” he gently told him.

“…oh, so what’s gonna happen?”

“Well, I’m going to have to make a house call, which means I'm gonna have to go away for a bit and it’s pretty far, so I won’t be able to hear you.”

“…okay.”

“Okay?”

“Okay!” MK gave a big grin to him, “Don’t you worry bout a thing! I’m an adult now Dad, I will be just fine!”

“You have grown up,” he gave a gentle smile, “I’m glad to hear that, but remember to call if there’s any trouble. I may be far, but I will come running if you need it.”

“I will! Now finish packing and save some lives!”

“I will, I’ll see you in two weeks shooting star.”

“See ya later old man!”

Macaque hung up the call with a smile as he resumed his packing. He wished he could have hugged his kid goodbye, but he was in a time crunch as he zipped everything up and quickly jumped out of the treehouse and began to move within the shadows of the trees.

He really does love his shadow powers during these times.

“Duh du Duh,” MK hummed out as he danced his way over to the food delivery destination with the headphones blaring in his ears. He then lifted it to call out the order name when he heard a silky voice interrupt.

“It feels like I waited for an eternity for this moment, is everything in order?”

“Just making the final adjustment mother,” another voice replied and this is when he opened his eyes to see that this was no ordinary food order as an ominous group stood before him.

“Nope,” he immediately whispered as he silently jetted off to hide behind a pile of rocks, but he peaked his head carefully out to see and his eyes widened.

“Finally after all this time,” the woman continued.

‘No way.’

“We have the means to lift Monkey King staff.”

‘It is!’

Standing before them all, wrapped in vibrant viridian vines and burrowed underneath a garden left untouched by the destruction laid around it, was the legendary Monkey King staff.

Things were about to get interesting.

No joke, the delivery scene with the lady is something I had to experience before. There are people who truly treat food workers lower than dirt, which is stupid to me cause why would you disrespect the people making your food? It’s like insulting the people who manage your money.

#lego monkie kid #monkie kid #mk #six eared macaque #macaque #PlumTeaAU