#i just noticed that everyone in the has plans column has been typed by me as an intj

[papenniesandbentoboxes]

#nancy drew #nancy drew meme #nancy drew games #nancy drew pc games #nancy drew alignment chart #Joe Hardy #Frank Hardy #Hardy Boys #tino balducci #deirdre shannon #xenia doukas #sonny joon #ryan kilpatrick #Zoe Wolfe #samantha quick #i just noticed that everyone in the has plans column has been typed by me as an intj #coincidence? i think not

[young-dumb-and-vaccinated]

The Sommelier (Hannigram x Female!Reader) pt. 5

More people said yes to Hannigram, which is good because Will is already involved in the plot and it would be awkward to have him just disappear. Also, I had someone request a Hannigram x reader in my asks. Apologies to the one person who voted no; I promise there will be more solo Hannibal x reader content in the future.

Hannibal decides to that y/n could do with some extra protection, but doesn’t anticipate what she has to tell him.

I have no idea how to make a proper tag list but @deadman-inc-bikeshop and @dovahdokren here you go 

Trigger warnings: discussions of alcohol, victim blaming

“When I saw his face, I immediately knew he had never once experienced the touch of his own hand, let alone that of a woman.” Charissa read out loud to everyone on staff. “Or, that he was buried so deep in the closet he found Narnia, but those two things aren’t mutually exclusive.” 

It was expected to be a slow night, as was normal for an ordinary Tuesday. On nights like those, you could get away with more, like reading a tabloid article out loud for everyone to hear. 

“I can’t believe [F/N] actually went public.” One of the new busboys commented. “What an absolute madlad.”  

“Did you just unironically use reddit terminology in an actual conversation?” You narrowed your eyes at the kid. 

“[F/N], you are making a very dangerous enemy.” An older waitress said, cryptically, from the corner of the room. 

“Who, Jason?” You gestured to the busboy. “What’s he gonna do? Make me cringe myself to death?” 

“You know that’s not who I mean.” She frowned. “I’m talking about Chase Mulvaney.” 

“Don’t be ridiculous.” You shook your head. “He’s not stupid enough to come back here.” 

Charissa made a noise that denoted her doubt. “I dunno, [F/N]. You’d have to be pretty stupid to start stabbing people at a crowded restaurant in broad daylight.” 

“But he was smart enough to get away, right?” Jason asked. “That’s gotta count for something!” 

You and Charissa exchanged glances. Neither of you had the emotional bandwidth to explain white privilege again. Instead, you just humored him. 

“Yeah.” Charissa lied. “He was smart enough to get away, meaning he probably knows better than to come back.”

"You're kidding yourself." A third waitress, who's name you couldn't seem to place, added. "People always say that killers are these galaxy-brained superhumans, but they're not. Mulvaney believes he's divinely ordained, so any thought that pops into his coked-out head is a sign from god."

And so shattered your thin firmament of denial. You made a point to never learn this person's name just out of spite.

“Oh, shit.” You said, trying to hide your genuine fear with a sarcastic voice. “Maybe he is coming back for me.” 

Charissa glared at the two other waitresses, equally pissed at them for scaring you.

"And it'll be your own fault for provoking him with that article." The older waitress said.

"Holy victim-blaming, batman." You mumbled.

“Alright, listen up, y’all.” Matthew announced to the group. “In ten minutes we open for dinner. Remember, if you want to switch shifts with another person, you have to run it by me first. I don’t want to see anybody but [F/N] at the bar tonight, capiche?”

“Yessir.” You saluted him and made your way over to the bar. You’d been doling out your bartending shifts left and right to avoid even the possibility of being cornered by another Freddie Lounds. You were only prolonging the inevitable, though. Eventually, you needed to return to the bar.

You passed the hostess's stand, where Charissa was stationed. Suddenly, you felt someone grab at your arm.

"Fucking hell, dude?!" You flinched violently and your heart rate jumped. "Don't do that!"

"Shit, sorry!" Charissa looked immediately regretful. "But, look!"

You followed her gaze through the window where a fancy car was parked. He leaned against the door, adjusting the cuffs of his dress shirt.

Now your heart was beating fast for a completely different reason. You squeezed Charissa's hand, trying to keep a lid on your nervous excitement.

"I think your luck's starting to turn." She said in a sing-songy voice.

"Yeah, I bet he'll protect me from the Baltimore Butcher." You whispered, trying not to giggle like an elementary school girl.

"Oh, could you imagine those arms around you?" She sighed deeply, her hand firmly against her chest. "I would die."

"Not until he sinks his teeth into your neck." You smirked, gnashing your teeth together.

"I would let him." She rested her chin on her hand.

"Yeah, me too." You agreed.

"I would give anything to trade shifts with you." Charissa groaned.

"Well, you heard the boss." You shrugged, suddenly feeling much better about your assignment. "I gotta stay behind the bar."

"Oh, pobrecita." Charissa rolled her eyes. Underneath the stand, she put up her middle finger in your direction. "Suck a dick, [L/N]."

You walked backwards towards the bar, keeping your eyes on your friend. "That's the plan, baby."

You tried to make yourself look busy. You dared not look at him as he entered the restaurant.

He exchanged pleasantries with Charissa then took his seat at the bar. You pretended not to notice him right away, only to give you an extra second to compose yourself.

"Hi there." You greeted, knowing you'd feel stupid no matter what you said. "Er- good evening."

"[F/N] [L/N], I assume?" He asked.

Fuck, you thought. His voice was dark, low and made your insides tremble. Even though part of you knew he was going to know your name, it still felt so sensual passing his lips.

You realized you had waved to him with your bandaged hand. That's how he was about to identify you so quickly. "Yes, I am she. I mean- her. Me."

Way to go, dumbass. You thought. Now he knows you're nervous and he's going to wonder why.

“God, I need to stop wearing this damn thing.” You said, clearing your throat. “What can I get for you tonight?” 

He was quiet for a moment. "What do you recommend?"

"Well, that depends." You said, pulling your gaze from him and grabbing a few wine glasses down from a high shelf. It was the only way you could maintain your composure.

"On?"

"What you're having for dinner, for one." You said. "And whether or not you're a vulpine tabloid journalist trying to corner me into a dubiously ethical interview. That's also a factor."

"So that's how Miss Lounds wore you down?" He concluded. "With wine?"

You rested your elbows on the bar, filled with an intoxicating confidence. "She tried wine first. Then she tried to get me fired because she asked for chardonnay and I brought her chablis. And when that didn't work, she siphoned my gas."

"I wish I could say that was out of character for her." He looked at you, apologetically.

"I take it you've had your own run-ins with Freddie?" You smiled.

"She's tried to infiltrate my practice multiple times." He sighed. "She's entered my office under a fake name with a recording device in her purse."

"What a sick fuck." You said, before remembering you really weren't supposed to curse in front of customers. You covered your mouth. "Sorry."

The corners of his mouth turned up into an amused smile. "Don't apologize. You're right."

“So you’re a doctor?” You asked, hoping he wasn’t the type to be offended by questions. 

“I’m a psychiatrist.” He nodded. “I used to work as a surgeon, but I find the mind much more compelling.” 

"Seriously, though." You pushed yourself back to your feet. "What can I get for you?"

He eyed the wine menu and then looked back at you. "What is your favorite red?"

"My favorite red?" You placed your hand on your collarbones. "On a night like this, I enjoy a nice, dry Argentinean Malbec."

"In that case," he thumbed through the list once more. "I'll have a bottle of Cobos Chañares from 2016, please."

You smiled. You wouldn't mind taking a sip of that if he offered. "Right away."

You carefully pulled the solid black bottle from its crevice and placed it on the bar. You removed the plastic seal and reached for the corkscrew. The bottle opened with a satisfying pop, filling the air around you with the strong, complex and seemingly contradictory aromas.

You poured a bit of this criminally expensive wine into his glass. He smelled it, then swirled it for a moment before taking a sip.

"Redcurrants and vanilla," he began. "With floral notes that operate with the precision of interlocking gears in a clock. Everything in its place."

"So you're a sommelier and a poet?" You tilted your head and filled his glass. "I'll bet you make women swoon at every corner."

You never had the best grasp on flirting, but even you knew that line was awful.

“Are you flirting with me, Miss [L/N]?” He asked, clearly not too worried about the consequences and enjoying the flattery. “Or are you just trying to get a taste of this Malbec?” 

“Little bit of column A, little bit of column B.” You shrugged. “Though you are as handsome as everyone says, I’ve had my eyes on that wine for slightly longer.” 

You fought the urge to slap your hand over your mouth. You had just broken the cardinal rule of workplace gossip. Panic reverberated through your body as you tried to break down his unreadable expression. 

Once again, he just looked amused. “I’ve seen those lingering glances, the way you all whisper and giggle. It’s flattering.” 

You felt your cheeks growing hot. “...I see.” 

“If you tell me what they say about me, I’ll let you have a taste.” His eyes bored into yours. 

You paused, trying to decipher exactly what he was offering. Then it hit you. 

“Oh!” You interjected. “The wine.” 

“Yes, that’s what I meant.” He said. “Dare I ask where your mind went?” 

Your cheeks stung from all the uncomfortable smiling. “I’d really like to keep my job, thanks.” 

“Have you never heard of bartender-client confidentiality?” His voice lowered and his eyes found your lips. “Nothing we say tonight has to leave these four walls.” 

Your insides turned to jelly. He rested the wine glass in his hand and offered it to you. Your hands shaking, you cradled the glass like an 18th century French village prostitute being offered a mug of hot soup. You brought the glass to your lips, the strong, overwhelming smells assaulting your orifices.

You let the wine grace your tongue. You had taught yourself to overcome the sting of the alcohol and focus on the undertones. Your eyes rolled back in to your head and you let out a little noise of pleasure. 

“Christ on a bike, that’s decadent.” You said, gasping for air a little bit. You quickly passed the glass back to him before Matthew could see you. “Thank you.” 

“Now, indulge me.” He instructed, glancing at the fresh pink lipstick mark on his glass. “What do the lovely women of Terroir whisper while I’m just out of earshot?” 

You rested your elbows on the bar and leaned in close. “They say you’re a vampire.” 

Judging by his unchanging neutral expression, it clearly wasn’t the first time someone had made that connection. “Perhaps they’re on to something.” 

“One of our line cooks used to say you were the devil.” You informed him, hoping that was one he hadn’t heard before.

“Used to?” He raised his eyebrows. 

“Until Chase Mulvaney came around.” You instinctively ran your fingers over your bandages, as if to make sure they were still there. It was a nervous tick you’d developed anytime someone brought up that day. “He’s stopped talking about, like, anything having to do with his religion ever since.” 

“It takes a lot to get an evangelist to stop evangelizing.” He refilled his glass. “Do you think he lost his faith?” 

“I heard someone say in passing that it was because he and Chase Mulvaney went to the same church.” You whispered. “But I can’t verify that.” 

“I’d say it’s more likely than a regular customer being a vampire, wouldn’t you?” 

“I wouldn’t trust their word because they made a regular customer into a vampire.” You corrected, hoping he would overlook the fact that you were one of them. “Secrets may stay within these four walls, but they tend to bounce around. It’s only a matter of time before one escapes, and you’d better hope it’s not one of yours.” 

This man must have been an exceptional therapist, because, there you were, baring your soul to him after fifteen minutes and one sip of wine. Occasionally, you were pulled away from the conversation by another customer who had the audacity to also want a drink. But, very few people came to you with the sole intent of drinking on a Tuesday evening. You and the sommelier talked until closing time. 

“Thank you for a lovely evening, Miss [L/N].” He said pulling out his wallet. “You are as delightful in person as you are on paper.” 

“Thank you, but I never caught-” you said, but stopped yourself. “I mean, you never gave me your name.” 

He signed his name on the paper check, then pulled out a fifty and unceremoniously handed it to you. “Now why would you want to ruin the mystery?” 

“Nothing we say tonight has to leave these four walls, remember?” You grinned and crossed your arms. “Come on, I won’t tell anyone.” 

He took the customer copy of the receipt and scribbled something down on it. He the folded it in half and slid it in your direction as if it contained nuclear launch codes. 

“Join me for dinner someday.” He ordered. “I’ll supply the Malbec.” 

#hannibal x reader #hannibal lecter #hannibal nbc #hannibal x you #hannigram #hannigram x reader #the sommelier #wine #tw trauma #tw victim blaming #tw alcohol

[watchmegetobsessed]

Update - Harry Styles

i’ve been deep inmy harry feels and this thought just wouldn’t leave me alone so i had to write it. im thinking about starting a taglist for harry, i think i’ll write more about him in the future. let me know if you’d be interested in the taglist!

word count: ~5.9k

masterlist

Sequel: The best present

Harry is not that into YouTube videos, has never really been, which is kind of ironic seeing the number of videos on the internet that is about him. The man himself who makes everyone talk online feels weird seeing someone talking on his screen, looking into his soul as if they were right there with him. But today he felt the sudden urge to be like his peers and get lost in random rambling videos from strangers, who felt the need to put themselves out there.

He has made a mean cup of tea for himself, made himself comfortable on his couch with his laptop balancing on his thighs and now is opening up his browser to unwind in an unusual way. As YouTube opens in front of his tired eyes, he stops when he tries to type in the keywords he is searching for. What is he looking for really? He thinks to himself trying to remember what he heard from his friends when they talked about funny or interesting videos. One thing is for sure, he is trying to avoid watching videos of himself in any content. He has had enough of him for the day, it’s time to focus on someone else, even if he doesn’t know the person.

He scrolls through several pages of many different keywords until he settles for a video where a girl talks about how her latest moving day went. Starting off Harry feels weird listening to her talk about such personal things as where her bed went in her room, how she packed all her stuff to fit them in the boxes, but soon enough this feeling settles and he starts to realize it’s kind of relaxing.

It doesn’t take too long for him to fall down a rabbit hole and by the time his tea empties out from his cup he is intensely watching a guy rant about his boss at Subway while doing a mukbang. The latter is a new discovery for Harry, he has never heard of it before, but he can see why some people find it satisfying.

The video ends, Harry checks the time and sees that it’s already after midnight and he hasn’t even realized how fast time flew by.

“Alright, just one more,” he mumbles to himself scrolling down the column of the recommended videos until his eyes stop at one particular upload at the very bottom.

July update for my Sammy, ready the title and an eye-catchingly beautiful girl is smiling from the thumbnail. He finds her breathtaking, the lack of makeup, the worn out hoodie she is wearing and the many various plants in the background makes it appear she is sitting in the middle of the forest.

Harry finds himself clicking on the video before he could even decide consciously to watch it. The screen loads and the girl appears in front of him, this time in a much larger size.

“Hi Sammy, welcome back to our channel,” she starts with an angelic little laugh as she pulls her shoulders up to her ears as if the camera is making her shy. She has no reason to be shy, Harry thinks to himself. His second thought is about Sammy, he is one lucky guy to know this angel and have her think about him. “It’s Y/N here, your one and only sister,” she adds.

Sister. The word brings Harry relief and he is surprised to feel this way, but he has no time to think anything of it because she starts talking again.

“Here is my July update, I’m sorry I’m a little late, but we got back from Oregon yesterday. Aunt Ella is sending you kisses and hugs, she missed you at the barbeque, or maybe it was just your helping hand at the grill,” she chuckles to herself, probably recalling the memory.

Harry has no idea who Aunt Ella is or where she lives in Oregon, but the way she talks about it makes him feel like he is part of the family a little.

Y/N carries on and starts talking about everything that has happened in July. Painting the shed at her parents’ home, buying a new armchair, one her cat absolutely adores and refuses to sleep anywhere else now, she went to the hairdresser to get a trim, but not too much. She tells about her plans for August, how she is thinking about going to the farmers’ market more often, and she has been playing with the idea of adopting another cat.

“I think Henry has been feeling a little lonely lately. He could use a buddy,” she tells the camera, her eyes moving to the side from where a weak but moody meow can be heard as an answer. “Yeah, I think he agrees,” she chuckles and Harry finds himself smiling at the screen.

At the end of the video she asks a few questions from Sammy, how he has been doing, if his wrist feels any better, even asks about a friend called Matthew. Harry wonders if she has ever gotten the answers to her questions and where Sammy saw this video. What is he doing that made her want to do an update on YouTube?

When the video ends Harry clicks on her profile faster than he would willingly admit to anyone and it’s like he opened the gate to paradise. Tens and maybe hundreds of videos are queuing on her page, monthly updates, birthday wishes, short story times about family gatherings, news and happenings in her life.

Harry gets lost in her tales. He watches video after video, noticing the smallest details about her, almost mentally taking notes about her updates, finding anything and everything she talks about so interesting as if he knew those people and places she mentions. He comes to realization that Sammy is her older brother who is serving somewhere in the military. Y/N is making the videos to update him about her life even if she knows most of them doesn’t get to him until weeks later, but it doesn’t seem to bother her. He also learns that Sammy sends them back lengthy emails once a month and always ends them with a joke they made up with his mates at the army. Y/N loves them even when they're not even funny, she never fails to mention that she smiled reading them.

Hours pass by and the rising Sun peeks inside the window pulling Harry back to his own reality, shocked that he just spent the whole night watching her videos and didn’t even realize how deep he has gotten in her life. Lucky for him he has nothing planned until the afternoon, so shutting his laptop he sets it aside and heads straight to bed, but lying between his silky sheets he catches himself staring out the window, wondering what Y/N might be doing right now. From what he collected she lives somewhere in Spokane and has family in Seattle and Portland, which puts her quite a few time zones behind him. He finds the thought of them going to bed at the same time despite the distance a little funny. He lies in bed for quite some time before he finally drifts off to sleep with a particular girl on his mind, who doesn’t even know he is thinking about her.

 “Do you think you can fall for someone you have never met?”

Harry’s question catches Mitch a little off-guard, but he is kind of used to his random bits of thoughts. Pouring some sugar into his coffee he follows the wondering singer to a free table in the corner.

“Isn’t it what all your fans feel?” he answers with a question, earning a surprised look from Harry. He hasn’t thought about this side, now the situation is kind of ironic, he supposes.

“Y’re right,” he nods stirring his coffee around in the small cup.

“Want to let me in on your thoughts?”

Harry feels a little shy to admit how he has watched all of her videos in the past few days, 207 to be exact and now he feels an oddly deep connection to this girl he has never even seen outside of a screen. Last night he dug up her Instagam profile, and even though she is not posting as frequently as she does on her channel, it was a refreshing change to see her in different settings. Chilling at a lake, having drinks with her friends, playing with her parents’ puppy, it amazed him that she has a whole life outside that small portion she lets him see in her videos.

Hesitantly, but he tells his friend about his latest hobby, if it’s not too weird to call it that, while his friend patiently listens and nods along his words while sipping on his morning coffee.

“D’you think I’m crazy?” Harry sighs leaning back in his seat, looking at his friend and colleague for validation that he hasn’t lost his mind entirely.

“Definitely not,” he chuckles shaking his head. “It’s like falling for that girl in school you know so much about but never really met.”

“Only that I’m stalkin’ this poor girl.”

“This is not stalking. We both know it’s far from that.” Harry nods with slight relief that his situation doesn’t seem as bad as he has been feeling lately. “Have you gotten in touch with her?”

“And what am I supposed to do? Comment on her video that I think her cat’s a cutie and I watched all her videos in three days ‘cuz I think she’s beautiful and I find her voice soothing?”

Mitch lets out a soft chuckle at the oddly specific answer he just gave and finds it amusing how interested his friend has grown about someone in such a short time.

“Maybe phrase it a little different.”

“So you do think I should reach out?”

“I don’t see why you shouldn’t. Use your personal YouTube, leave her a nice comment. Maybe she’ll reply.”

“And then what?”

“I don’t know, Harry,” he chuckles. “Just go with it and you’ll see. You are obviously interested in her, it’s better than just sit and watch her videos.”

Harry agrees. It wouldn’t hurt to try to reach out to her, possibly in a not too creepy way. Maybe just a sweet comment on one of her videos and if she replies… Well, he doesn’t know what comes after, but he’ll figure it out.

 Y/N updates regularly. Usually once a week and mostly it’s Sunday when a new video gets uploaded. This next Sunday Harry finds himself checking her page occasionally through the day to see if there’s a new update, but it seems like she is missing today. Right until he is driving home and gets a notification from the app.

Y/N has just uploaded a new video! It reads and Harry’s heart beats a tad bit faster. He thinks about pulling over to see it right away, but he tells himself that would be a bit too much, so he is forced to wait until he is in the comfort of his home.

Finally sitting on his couch he opens up his laptop and clicks on the video that has the title: September update.

Y/N sits in her usual spot, Henry in her arms as she is gently stroking his head with a warm smile on her face.

“Hi Sammy! Welcome back to our channel,” she greets him with her usual words and Harry loves how she calls the channel theirs. “This is my September update, even though not much has happened,” she breathes out, eyes wandering to the window besides her and Harry wonders what she sees from her window every day. Does she live in the city? Is it an apartment or a house with a backyard? Are there any trees or does her room have a terrible view, maybe just another house next to hers?

She starts her talk about the month, which she spent mostly with working, a little shopping and meeting her friends. She tells him about her planned trip to the local shelter to see possible new kittens to add to her household and Harry feels himself growing excited about it. He even thinks about what kind of cat he can see get along well with Henry even though he has never even met him.

“Anyway, mom and dad miss you, I miss you too. I loved your joke about ducks in your latest email,” she chuckles sweetly, bringing a smile to Harry’s face as well. “Mom is excited to see you at Christmas, our cousins will come to Portland as well. Maya can’t wait to play Jenga with you, she said she’s been practicing.”

The video soon ends as Y/N tells Sammy how much she loves him and eventually turns the camera off.

He straight away moves the cursor to the beginning of the video and as she starts talking again he scrolls down to the comment section that’s entirely empty. There are only two views on her video, usually a hundred is the max, but she doesn’t seem to care about the views, it’s more about the message.

He clicks to type a comment, but his hands stop above the keyboard as he tries to think of what to write. Mitch was right about taking a chance at reaching out, but what is he supposed to write exactly? Everything that comes to his mind sounds so creepy and scary, and he knows it’s weird that he formed such a deep connection to an unknown girl online. At last he starts typing.

“Hi Y/N! I’ve stumbled across your videos the other day. Love how you keep your brother updated, it’s such a nice gesture. I hope life treats you and Sammy well, you truly deserve it. Good luck with finding a buddy for Henry! Love, an admirer of yours, H.”

He reads it back several times, deleting then retyping it again until he decides to just go with it. A rush of adrenaline washes over his body when he sends the comment and it’s officially out there. Secretly he wishes she would reply right away, but moments pass by, then moments turn into minutes and nothing happens. His comment stands there alone and he has to realize that maybe she will never even reply or even see it.

It doesn’t matter, he tells himself as he shuts the laptop down and goes on to do his things, but he finds his thoughts wander over to her from time to time.

He has a busy day ahead of him the next day, quite a few meetings and a fitting. He checks back for a reply in the morning, but it slips his mind the moment he leaves from home and his phone rings right away. Throughout the day he basically barely has time to check his emails, his other notifications are just sitting patiently on the bar, waiting for him to acknowledge them. It’s way past five in the afternoon when he finally have some time for himself after his fitting. He is sitting in his car, people walk past him without even realizing who is sitting behind the tinted windows. Scrolling down he gets rid of everything that doesn’t seem urgent until his eyes stop at one particular notification.

“Y/N replied to your comment,” he reads it out loud, just to make it real, as if he is seeing it wrong and saying it with his own mouth brings it to life. He quickly taps on it and the familiar video opens up and while Y/N starts talking again the screen jumps down to the comments where, in fact, there is a reply from her.

“Dear H! Thank you for your heartfelt comment! I always forget it’s not just my family who sees these videos, but I’m happy you found them interesting enough to watch a few of them.”

“A few?” Harry huffs to himself feeling a little ridiculous he has watched all of them.

“I hope I didn’t bore you too much. Thank you for the well wishes for me, my brother and Henry too. He is sending his love to you. Y/N xx”

The comment was posted three hours ago. The thought that she has acknowledged his existence with not only reading but also replying to his comment brings him extreme joy. He reads her words over and over again, looking for any clue that would give away that she found his comment weird, but it seems like she was more surprised and happy that someone else saw her video besides her brother. Harry starts to type his reply without hesitation.

“Bore me? You saved me from watching another “what’s in my bag” video the other day. It was a pleasant change. I love your plants, by the way. Your room always gives off the most relaxed vibes. It reminded me I should have more of them in my home. H”

Harry smiles to himself posting his comment, the fear of appearing like a stalker long gone from him, the interaction is making his inside blossom from joy. For his biggest surprise a reply appears just a few minutes away and Harry reads Y/N’s new lines with deep hunger.

“Those videos suck the life out of me every time! I might be having a problem with buying too many plants, but I can’t help myself. They truly bring peace to me just by looking at them. I’m glad you are planning on buying some more, you won’t regret it!”

Harry is dying to reply, but he doesn’t want to look too eager and needy, so he opts for just liking her comment to let her know he read it and agrees. He locks his phone and puts it aside with the widest smile on his face as he starts his car and leaves his parking spot.

Two weeks pass by. In those two weeks Y/N uploads two more videos, one about her time with her grandparents, for a change it was filmed at their home and they even said hello in it. Harry feels wholesome seeing her with her granny and grandpa, it’s clear she cares a lot about them. The other video is just a short one where she has met some of Sammy’s old high school friends and she had a check in from them, sending a sweet message to him through the video. Harry doesn’t doubt how much these little things mean to Sammy, even if he doesn’t get to see them right away. Seeing Y/N alone boosts his mood every time she uploads a new video, he can only imagine how they make Sammy feel.

He leaves comments on her videos without a second thought and she replies to all of them, a lot of the time almost immediately. These are the highlights of his days without exception. Knowing that she has anything to do with him just fascinates him and he is starting to realize what his fans feel towards him on a different level. Whenever he sees the notification that she has replied to what he wrote or that she uploaded a new video he flies right to her page to check it, no matter what he is doing. Some of their comment threads turn out pretty lengthy, almost like a chat conversation and it has Harry wonder how they could maybe move it to somewhere else from the comment section.

He wants to ask for her number, but figures it wouldn’t be the best idea. Regardless of how much he enjoys their short little conversations, the situation is still weird and complicated and he doesn’t want to forget that.

But he is pleasantly surprised when she brings it up herself, to move the conversation to somewhere else.

“Would love to discuss that more with you. Up for exchanging IG names?” her question reads and he blinks a few before he fully comprehends that she wants to talk to him more in private. However there’s no way he can send her his real Instagram profile and making a fake one would be way too suspicious. Opening up the private messages he sends her a short, but informative message.

“I don’t use Instagram, but feel free to text me,” and then his phone number.

He sits at the dinner table anxiously, waiting for his phone to light up from a new text, and just a few minutes later it finally comes.

“Hi! It’s Y/N,” he reads from the notification and he saves the number right away.

“Hello! Save me as Harry. I haven’t even told you my name yet, how rude of me!” he replies chuckling to himself.

“Will let it slip this time. Harry. What a nice name!”

“Is it what you thought about from the H?”

“It was one of my theories. The other one was Hayes, but Harry fits you better.”

“You haven’t even seen me, how do you know what name fits me?”

“I don’t know. You had a vibe. There are many great Harries in the world, you seemed to fit between them!”

Harry wonders if she is thinking about him without even knowing that… it is him. He wants to ask her, but decides not to. Instead, he is enjoying that he can now reach her immediately and not through a comment section. He never thought this would actually happen.

 The texts never stop. They have so much to talk about! Their entire life to share, millions of thoughts and so much to discuss! Harry is not proud of the time he has spent with his eyes glued to his phone, but he wouldn’t miss a chance to talk to her for anything. Their friends are not blind to the change in him, but Mitch is the only one with a guess about why he has gotten so addicted to his phone.

“Is it the girl from the videos?” he asks Harry one time when they are at the studio, having lunch break. Different food boxes are scattered around them, on the table and the couch. Harry’s phone just light up from a text and he immediately dropped his lunch to type a response.

He glances up at his friend with a shy smile nodding his head. He hasn’t talked about his newly funded friendship with Y/N yet, it feels like as if he tells it to anyone it might evaporate into just a dream.

“So you reached out, huh?”

“I did,” he nods returning to his food once his message is sent. “She’s great.”

“Does she know who she is talking to?” Harry’s lack of answer tells enough about the truth to Mitch. “You can’t hide forever, especially if you are planning on meeting her.”

“I know,” he answers shortly. “But I just don’t know how I could even bring it up to her without sounding like a mad man.”

“She’ll need proof.”

“M’not ready to show m’self to her. What if it changes everything?”

“Then it wasn’t worth it,” he simply tells him.

Deep down Harry knows it’s the truth, but he is not ready to be robbed from the joy she is bringing him. He has never felt such a deep connection to anyone before and they haven’t even met. It’s just a version of her he is seeing on the screen, not her real self. But it feels real to him and he wants to keep this reality to himself for just a little longer.

 “I wish I could hear your voice, Harry. You are one big mystery to me, you know that?”

He forgets to breathe for a moment as he reads her message, lying in bed one evening, getting ready to sleep, but he wanted to check in with her before ending the day.

“You know so much about me already,” he types back.

“Not enough, I feel like. Sometimes I’m afraid Nev and Max are about to show up at my door and tell me that I’ve been catfished.”

He chuckles at her words, though he completely understands her fear.

“What do you want from me then?”

“Send me a voice message so I know you are real. That would put my suspicion to sleep. For a while…”

Harry hesitates for a long time until he decides just one voice message couldn’t hurt. Just a short one where his voice is not that recognizable so his cover won’t be over immediately.

“Good night, Y/N,” he tells into his phone and then send the recording to her.

He watches the status change from delivered to read and a couple of minutes go by before she finally responds.

“Thank you. Now I know that you are real. I hope I’ll hear your voice in real life one day.”

“I hope that too.”

 His time spent undercover is coming to an end and he knows it’ll happen soon. It’s been weeks since they started chatting, almost an entire month and she’s been hinting her will to see his face and though he has been putting it off, he knows it has to happen.

Fate is playing under his hands, because he is traveling to Seattle for a few days, exactly when Y/N is traveling there to visit her parents.

“I hope you know you can’t leave without meeting finally,” she wrote when she found out they are going to be in the same city.

“It never even crossed my mind!” he wrote back chuckling to himself, however it brought him extreme anxiety that he is now going to be forced to come clean about who he really is.

He spends his whole flight to Seattle making up possible outcomes for their first official meeting. Not all of them end well and it’s just fueling his fear that he might lose her for not telling her the entire truth.

But she is a smart girl, she’ll see your reasoning, he tells himself, however he can’t entirely convince himself that it will be the case.

In hopes of squeezing in more than just one meeting into the weekend they agreed to meet almost first thing after he lands. So after checking into his hotel he heads into the city to finally meet her in real life in a local café she suggested for the occasion. Arriving to the place he is running a little late and she already texted him she’ll be waiting for him inside. Harry is wearing a beanie with shades to try to keep up his cover and it seems to be working, no one has approached him yet.

Stepping inside the cozy looking place his eyes roam around and immediately finds her sitting in the corner, pouring sugar into her coffee, not even paying attention to the door at the moment, but truth is she’s been intensely staring at it in the past ten minutes she has been there.

Harry takes a deep breath and nods to himself before heading in her way, hands shaking nervously as he stops at her table.

She glances up at him with innocent eyes, a smile spreads across her face as she sees that her mysterious Harry has arrived and she doesn’t recognize her until he finally takes his sunglasses off.

Harry watches her face turn from happiness to surprise then utter shock as she realizes who is standing in front of him.

“You are… my Harry?” she asks, confusion laced through her voice and Harry can’t ignore how she called him her Harry. He likes the ring of it.

“M’orry if it’s a little too much f’you, I really didn’t know how to tell ya.”

Keeping his eyes on her he pulls out the other chair at the table and takes a seat across her while she is still staring at him with a shocked and puzzled expression sitting on her face. Then she looks around in suspicion as he wiggles his coat off his arms, before her eyes settle on him once again.

“It’s not an episode of Catfish, right?” she asks making him chuckle.

“It is not, don’t worry.”

“I’m sorry if I’m being weird, but this was literally the last thing I was expecting,” she admits leaning back in her seat. “I believed things like this only happen in movies.”

“Not just there,” he smiles, slowly relieving that she is still sitting there and hasn’t ran out. It’s going way better than he expected.

She needs a little time to put the whole picture together and befriend the thought that she indeed just developed a friendship with Harry Styles through her videos for her brother. The absurdity is still shocking to her, but the more time passes by with him still sitting there, the more she finds peace with it.

Once the shock and surprise is gone they slowly realize they are seeing each other in real life finally. Harry feels overwhelmed, she is even more breathtaking than in her videos and through texts. He is mesmerized by her whole being and could listen to her talk in person forever, he wouldn’t get bored of her.

Time stops existing as they sit at the little café, talking for hours even though that’s all they’ve been doing through texts, but they just can’t get enough of hearing each other, seeing each other’s reaction and be able to see each other and not stare at a screen while talking.

Unfortunately, time never stopped just for the two of them and soon she realizes she needs to head back home. Harry doesn’t want to let go of her just yet so he offers to give her a ride, thanking himself for getting a rental for himself upon arriving. Y/N accepts the offer so the two of them head back to her parents’ home, soaking up the last minutes of their precious time spent together.

“Thank you for today, I really loved meeting you finally,” she smiles at him once they are parked on the driveway.

“I hope I didn’t shock you too much,” he chuckles scratching his chin.

“Just a little,” she admits before they both get out of the car and walking around it she stops in front of him, after a moment of hesitation she opts for a hug that he returns more than happily.

It feels as if her frame was perfectly sculpted to fit in his embrace and Harry can’t imagine how he could go this long without even seeing her in person. He knows it’s gonna be utter misery to be away from her after they leave the city.

“Will I see you before you take off?” she asks letting go of him. Harry looks down at her, the urge to kiss her growing bigger with each passing moment, but he is not sure if it would be appropriate to give it a try on their first time meeting.

“I’m free tomorrow for a lunch,” he tells her and she nods smiling.

“Then I’m free too,” she chuckles.

There’s an awkward moment where they are not sure what else should be done or said and the more they wait the weirder it’s getting so Harry clears his throat as he takes a step back, sad that he has to leave without feeling her lips on his, but he is not trying to be too greedy.

“I’ll see you tomorrow then,” he smiles walking back to his car. Y/N waves after him and sitting back to behind the wheel he takes a moment to himself to collect himself after everything that has happened today. His hands curl around the wheel and he is about to start the car when someone knocks on the window. Y/N is smiling at him through the glass and he rolls it down curiously.

“I just…” she starts hesitantly, her eyes wander down to his lips and Harry knows what’s about to happen, but it still catches him by surprise.

Y/N leans in through the window and presses her lips to Harry’s, capturing them in a sweet, long awaited first kiss they both have been dreaming of for quite a while. Harry smiles into the kiss, bringing his right hand up to cup her cheeks as they stretch the moment for as long as possible. Whenever one pulls back the other brings them back for just one more kiss that turns into two more, then three… It takes a long time for them to finally let go of each other.

“See you later, H,” she smiles backing out of the car and running up to the front door, smiling wildly as she waves in his way one last time before disappearing in the house.

 Lying in bed that evening Harry is scrolling through his Instagram feed when he finally realizes he can now follow her without a worry. He is quick to find her profile again and hit that follow button. He is happy to see she was already following him.

He is just about to put his phone aside and go to bed after such a busy but exciting day when a notification pops up on the screen.

Y/N has just uploaded a new video!

He taps on it quickly and her smiling face greets him from his phone’s screen.

“Hi Sammy! It’s me again. Welcome back to our channel,” she starts with a shy smile. The setting is new this time, he supposes it’s her parents’ home this time. “This is going to be a short video, but I wanted to tell you about something. Or someone.”

Harry’s heart skips a beat when he thinks about where it’s heading. He listens to her voice holding his breath.

“I met someone today. We’ve been talking for a while, but I could finally hug him today. His name is Harry, and he is a wonderful man. I think you two would get along well,” she says with a soft chuckle. “I love spending time with him and I hope he feels the same way. Actually…” Her eyes move up straight to the camera, something she doesn’t do often. She usually stares out the window or plays with Henry while talking. “I think he is watching it right now. Hi Harry!”

“Hello, Beautiful,” he greets her back with a smile as if she could hear him.

“I wanted to tell you how amazing you are making me feel. I hope I didn’t disappoint. I was so nervous to meet you today, I hope I lived up to what you imagined me to be.”

“You were so much better than that,” he answers again.

“Anyway… I hope you feel the same way. You are the first guy I’m talking about in an update, so appreciate it!” she tells him and he chuckles lightly. “I’ll see you soon, H. But until then… Know that I’m thinking about you.”

“M’thinking about you too, Angel.”

“Sammy, I miss you as always. I hope everything is well, can’t wait for your next email. I love you,” she smiles before the video ends.

Harry heads straight to the comments. This time he doesn’t leave a lengthy one, just a short line, but it has everything he wanted to tell her.

“I feel the same way.” The comment reads. Just a few seconds later comes the notification and he smiles sweetly at his phone.

Y/N liked the comment.

#harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles imagine #harry styles oneshot #harry styles fluff #harry styles fiction #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x reader #harry #styles #one direction #harry styles fanfictions

[justthehiddleswrites]

Destiny Has Other Plans | Loki x OC | Chapter 8

Pairing: Loki x OFC

MASTERLIST IS HERE

Summary: When Loki goes to ask his father for permission to marry, he is shocked to discover his destiny has already been made for him.  He is already betrothed to Sjofn, the daughter of the King of Vanaheim.  An arranged marriage to bring the two kingdoms closer together and strengthen the bond.  Never mind that Sjofn and Loki can’t stand each other.  

After The Battle of New York, Loki is sent to live at Avengers Tower as punishment for his misdeeds.  But it doesn’t mean he has to like it.   A year later, he has adjusted to life on Midgard but has avoided any romantic or emotional entanglements, still bitter over his lost love.  Dr. Alexis Randall is skilled at helping others fix their relationships as a couple therapist, but can’t help her own love life.  A chance encounter with Loki in a dive bar has life altering consequences for both of them.  Now, Alexis and Loki must figure out a way to co-habit without killing each other in the process, plus navigating impending parenthood and other roadblocks along the way.

This Chapter: Loki and Alexis find out just exactly what Odin has done and life for them is further complicated.

Warnings: Arranged Marriage, Forced Marriage, Pregnancy, Unplanned Pregnancy, Smut, Angst,  Semi-Public Sex, Mentions of law enforcement, Oral Sex, Cursing, Vaginal Sex

Taglists are Open, please let me know if you wish to be added.

-

“I demand to speak to Odin!” Loki commanded the guards at the doors of his old bedchambers. “At least let me see her.”

Odin had left the healing room without an explanation or another word. Soon Asgardian guards entered and escorted Loki here. And here he remained. More frustrated and confused as the seconds passed.

One guard sighed. “She is safe, Prince. You will see her soon.”

“Thank you.” His posture relaxed a bit, knowing Alexis remained safe.

Several hours passed before someone came to fetch him.

“The Allfather wishes an audience.”

Lok frowned as he pushed past the guards. “Good, because I have questions.”

They walked in silence down the opulent hallway. Loki rushed to the throne room doors as he saw Alexis pacing there, her own set of armed guards nearby.

“Darling!”

“Loki!” She ran to him. He captured her in his arms and kissed her passionately. “I don’t understand what is going on.”

Loki pulled back and cupped her face. “All that matters is that you and…” He placed his hand on her stomach. “... this little one are safe.”

“I’m scared, Loki.” Alexis’s voice cracked.

Loki pressed his forehead against her. “You have nothing to fear with me by your side.”

One guard cleared his throat. “Odin is ready to receive you.”

Loki took a deep breath, and Alexis did the same. He nodded at the guards and the doors opened. Alexis grabbed his hand and squeezed hard as they walked in. It wasn’t until they reached the front of the room that they realized Odin wasn’t alone.

“Father and—”

“Father?!” Alexis exclaimed.

Loki’s head snapped to face her. “Father?”

She pointed at the other man sitting next to Odin. “That’s my father, but he died when I was three, I only remember him in pictures. How is he even here?”

“An excellent question. Care to answer, Freyr?” Loki seethed.

“Odin…” Freyr hissed. “… you said you handled this.”

“I said I would handle it.”

“Then I suggest you do it!”

“Will someone just answer the question?!” Loki’s voice bounced off the walls.

Freyr sighed. “I am her father.”

Loki stumbled. “That would explain why my spell didn’t work. And why—”

Alexis’s shrill voice cut through everything. “WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON?”

All eyes in the room turned to her. Her eyes wide in terror, clutching her baby bump. Loki reached for her, but she jerked away.

“Are you saying that I’m… I’m…”

“Vanir. Yes.” Odin finished.

Alexis’s eyes darted between everyone in the room. “No, no, no, no. I’m human! My parents died in a car crash when I was three. An aunt raised me.” She wobbled on her legs and Loki lunged to steady her.

“What have you done to her?” Loki demanded.

Freyr again glanced at Odin, who returned with a silent nod.

“When your plans failed to overthrow Odin, and he banished you to Midgard,” Loki rolled his eyes. “Sjofn believed we had cancelled your pending nuptials. And when she was told they would proceed…”

“News to me. Father.” Loki scowled at Odin.

Freyr continued. “She became hysterical. Destroying rooms in the palace, fighting guards, running away. Reckless.”

“I can’t imagine why.” Alexis sneered from Loki’s arms. “The two of you are monsters for putting a poor girl through all that. An arranged marriage.”

“Not some poor girl. You.” Freyr stared at Alexis. “Odin and I thought it best to send you away. Give you time away from everything until it was time for the wedding.”

“And take away my memories?! My powers?!”

“Not erased.” Odin offered. “Just… blocked. Tucked away until you were ready.”

“You always make it sound so congenial.” Loki stepped in front of Alexis. “As if you are doing your victim a favor. I noticed you conveniently sent her to New York, the same place you banished me.” Loki’s lips curled into a sneer.

“That was my idea.” Odin piped up, strolling down the stairs to join Freyr in front of the couple. “Let serendipity work.”

“How romantic of you.” Alexis snapped.

“I did not expect my son to be so cavalier with his manhood.”

“ENOUGH! I am not your son!” Loki bellowed. “But some pawn in your grand plan. We both are.” He pulled Alexis, Sjofn, whoever, against her. “Restore her memories and let us leave.”

“If only it were that simple.” Odin commented back. “It will take time to restore her memories.”

“Fine. Then have your guards fetch us when you are ready.” Loki grabbed Alexis’s hand and stormed out of the throne room.

He pulled her along, only to be stopped by Frigga.

“Did you know, Mother?”

Frigga folded her hands in front of her. “Only after the deed was done. And I never suspected that Alexis was Sjofn until Odin entered the healing room.”

“Well, I guess that is a minor comfort.” Loki pushed past her, dragging Alexis with him.

“Where are we going, Loki?” Alexis questioned, digging in her heels. Loki stuttered to a stop.

“To my chambers, to await Odin and Freyr’s word.” His brows furrowed.

She tugged her hand free. “I just found out my entire life is a lie. I need some time and space to process.”

Loki stepped towards her. “You’re not doubting us, are you? Odin and Freyr—”

“—will catch hell for the havoc they wrecked.” Frigga stepped. “Perhaps I can take young Alexis back to my chambers until the Allfather is ready for her.”

Loki didn’t want that. He wanted to comfort her himself. He wanted her. But one look into Alexis’s eyes and he knew having her go with Frigga was the best idea of the day.

“Thank you, Mother.”

“You are welcome, my son.” Frigga linked arms with Alexis and turned to head towards a different corridor. “Now, Alexis, is it? I imagine you are starving.” Alexis nodded. “Well, I will have some food brought up and you can tell all about how my son has been treating you on Midgard.”

Loki regretted agreeing to allow his mother to care for Alexis, but they already had disappeared down the hall towards Frigga’s chambers. He could hear the sounds of laughter echoing off the large pillars. He turned to head to his own chambers for rest and sustenance, only to run directly into the chest of his brother.

“Thor…” Loki grumbled as he stumbled backwards from the impact.

“Apologies.” Thor reached out to steady Loki. “Care for some company?”

“If it is all the same with you, I prefer solitude at this time.” Loki sidestepped Thor and continued on his way.

“What Odin did was wrong.” Thor called out. “To you and Alexis. I am sorry.”

Loki glanced back over his shoulder at Thor. “Thank you.” And then he continued on his way.

-

When no one came to get him after several hours, Loki took to pacing again, jumping at every sound. He was about ready to jump out of his skin when a guard popped his head in.

“They are ready for you in the throne room.”

Loki nodded, and the guard walked away. He took a few moments to collect himself and straighten his clothes.

“It’s Alexis, Loki. Pull yourself together.” he muttered to himself before heading out the door.

He got about halfway there when something or someone pushed him behind a pillar.

“I heard you were back, but I had to see for myself.” A familiar voice growled as small hands undid the buttons of his shirt, exposing his chest.

“What are you doing?” He tugged his shirt closed. “Who are…” His voice trailed off as he registered the fair hair. “Sigrun.”

Sigrun giggled. “Of course, it is me, silly. I always knew you would come back for me.” She pushed him back against the corridor. She kissed his lips, catching Loki off guard. “I knew you loved me.”

Sigrun’s fingers tangled in Loki’s hair and her lips crashed against his with passion. Loki struggled to push Sigrun off of him.

“I love—” Loki explained when he was cut off.

“Once a snake, always a snake.” Alexis cried, not even bothering to wipe the tears away. “I should have known.”

“ALEXIS!” Loki ran after her, catching her fingertips only to have them slip away. “I can explain.”

She didn’t stop walking or bother to turn around to acknowledge Loki. “There’s no need. You made it clear you didn’t want any emotional entanglements, and now I can see why. She seems just like your type, blond, big boobs, and no brains.” Her words shot straight to Loki’s heart.

“Things have changed, I… I…” Loki sputtered to get out the words.

Alexis stopped, her fists clenched at her sides. “You are right about that, because now I have my memories back. And I have the power to make sure you never find me and hurt me or this child ever again!”

Loki took a step towards her and Alexis spun around and flung an energy dagger at Loki, who just managed to avoid it.

“You don’t mean that. Come with me, I can explain.”

“Stay away from me, Loki. I never want to see you again!” And with that she flashed away in a column of blue light.

Loki stood in shock, staring at the spot where Alexis, Sjofn, whoever once stood.

“She is pregnant with your child?” Sigrun asked from behind the column where she had been cowering through the entire exchange between Loki and Alexis.

“Yes.” Loki’s head dropped.

“And she is the reason you have returned?” Sigrun continued.

“Yes.” Loki’s tone grew more and more terse, growing weary of Sigrun’s questions.

“And you love her?”

Loki exhaled. “Yes.”

Sigrun’s hands fiddled in front of her. “Are you terribly cross at me?”

Loki’s eyes flashed as he stalked towards her. He got right in front of her face. “Yes.”

#loki #loki fanfiction #loki fanfic #loki x ofc #loki smut #loki angst #loki fluff #loki odinson #loki laufeyson #destiny has other plans

[thebountyfucker]

The Two Princes - Royal AU

NSFW - 18+ ONLY

Embo x F!Reader x Cad Bane

Tags: sex party, public sex, double penetration, threesome, blowjob, handjob, overstimulation, maybe ooc but this is an AU so I don't care lol

CW: mentions of drugs, prostitution, power imbalance (the reader is a hired attendant, and both Embo and Cad are princes. Reader is not a part of either of their domains, so they have no control over her. However, I did want to include it just in case)

Here's a link to my masterpost and to the application for my taglist!

“So explain to me again what is going on?”

“There’s nothing else to say.” Your boss replied as he sorted through his collection of datapads, his fingers flicking through the stack until he found the right one. He pulled it out and thrust it in your direction. “Ya gotta sign it.”

“Sign… what?” You took the datapad into your hands and powered it on. A file appeared, one that was rather lengthy and full of legal words that you couldn’t, for the life of you, understand. You parsed through the paragraphs of Aurebesh, before pausing and glancing up. “Is this an NDA?”

“Yep.” Your boss was quick to reply, turning his stout body from you to search around his office for something else. You uneasily returned your attention to the swirling legalese, and faltered. Your boss noticed your hesitancy, and sighed. “I can tell you this - it’s the royal folk. One of them is planning some shindig, and needs you and the girls to help take care of them.”

“Is it… safe?”

“You tell me. You know them royal folk better than I do.”

You wouldn’t exactly say you knew them; one one-night stand with Prince Cad hardly seemed to count, in your opinion. Though, if this party was hosted by a royal, there was a good chance that you’d get to see him again. He’d protect you if things went wrong, right? You stared down at the datapad, and your boss huffed impatiently.

“Look, sign it or don’t. I need to know who to staff now. They aren’t the patient type.”

“Alright, alright.” You scribbled your signature down on the line and your boss snatched the datapad from your hand. He tossed it aside and waddled around from the other side of the desk, gesturing with two fingers for you to follow him.

“You and the others will caravan to The Veil, where you’ll meet the employer. Remember, none of what happens tonight can be talked about, or we’ll be sued to shit. You understand?” You nodded again at this, the uneasy sensation rising in your stomach once more. Your boss glanced over his shoulder at you, and scoffed. “They ain’t gonna eat you! Relax!”

“Easy for you, perhaps.” You muttered under your breath as you both slipped into the meeting room. About fifteen young women - your coworkers - were waiting in the room. Most seemed just as confused as you were.

“The employer has everything you’ll need. Don’t let them talk you into doing anything that isn’t in your job description, okay? You’re attendants, not whores.” Your boss drawled as he crossed his arms over his chest. The last line, specifically, caught your attention. You’re attendants, not whores. What about this job warranted that comment? He had to know more than he was letting on, and this bothered you. You supposed he, likely, had to sign a similar NDA, but at the same time, you hated going into jobs blind. Things were more likely to go wrong this way… and the royals weren’t the type you wanted to disappoint. “Get your asses moving. He’s waiting on you.”

-

The Veil was unlike anything you had ever seen before - it was a meeting hall affiliated with Azvergin Hotel - a high-end joint for billionaires and royals alike. This meeting hall was just as high-class, with high ceilings and sculpted arches and hand-carved crown moulding. Columns lined the grand hall, holding the heavy mosaic ceilings from toppling to the floor. Famous artwork was displayed along the walls. You were so caught in how awe-inspiring this hall was, you hardly noticed the room was empty. There were no tables or chairs to be seen - something you expected for a function fit for royalty.

“This way.” The grounds-keeper spoke, pulling your attention from the details of the room; it was then that you finally noticed how quiet everything was. You turned towards the groundskeeper, watching as they turned down a long hallway. You jogged after them, your coworkers following closely behind.

“Where is everything?” You asked, and the groundskeeper glanced over their shoulder at you.

“Downstairs.”

“Right…”

They turned to the left and knocked on a door; a small peephole opened, and someone from within called out.

“Who are these ladies?”

“Attendants.” The groundskeeper explained. “The prince sent for them.”

The peephole closed, and the door opened instead. The guard gestured for you to enter, which you did; you slowly descended down the flight of stairs, noting that the lighting had dimmed and that low, sultry music was playing over hidden speakers. You turned to look at your girls, the pieces of this puzzle slowly forming in your head; it wasn’t until the door opened that things finally started making sense.

The room was much smaller than the grand hall above, without the frills and displays of wealth. It was hard to tell what colors the walls and floors were, given how dark the room was compared to the hall above. Plush chairs, chaises, and even beds were dotted around the room. Men and women were already wandering around, dressed in lingerie or kink apparel. They glanced at you and your party, but didn’t say anything.

Against the wall closest to the entrance of the room was a table covered in sex toys, condoms, lube, and little flags of various colors.

You understood the NDA now; this was not your typical job. No… this was a sex party. You had been hired, by one of the royals, to attend to them while they’re likely doing dope and fucking the brains out of prostitutes. Great. This would be fun.

A door to the left of the room opened up, and out stepped Prince Embo, the tall, broad chested Kyuzan prince. He wore a loosely tied satin robe, which exposed his defined chest; tattooed across his exposed skin were dark green, blocky symbols. You could make out the facsimile of a sun printed along his collarbone, though no other shapes made sense to you. Your gaze trailed down his chest and abdomen, before noting the loose tie which held his robe shut. You wondered if he was wearing anything underneath it…

Embo cleared his throat, and you startled, your gaze ripped from the knot of his closure. Your gaze flicked up to his face, before you remember that he was royalty and some royals found eye contact with subordinates to be threatening; you briefly met his gaze, noting the amusement in his face, before you cast your gaze to the floor.

“What is this?” He inquired, looking you all over; he waded through the crowd, looking over each and every one of you personally. His hand ghosted across the back of your neck, sending shivers straight down your spine. “My attendants, yes? Come. I have uniforms for you.”

You tentatively followed him into the room he had just exited from. He started rifling through a box, paying no mind as the sixteen of you gathered around you.

“What will be our role here tonight, your majesty?”

“Attendants. As is your job title.” He answered bluntly as he pulled out enough uniforms and set them aside. “You do not have to do what you are not trained for. Just offer drinks and take care of my guests.”

“I… well… okay.” You nodded as you grabbed one of the dresses - they were short, but not too revealing. Guests would definitely be able to tell the difference between you and the entertainment, even in the dim light. You held it up to you, noting that the prince was watching you. His gaze held interest, but no ill intent; you weren’t sure why, but your stomach somersaulted and your heart skipped a beat.

“Is that a problem, miss?”

“No, your majesty.” You replied, and he stood to his full height, towering over you in a way not many others could. This, embarrassingly, sent spikes of pleasure to your cunt. If he was this tall, you knew he had a huge cock to match.

“Good. My guests shall be arriving any time now. Do not keep us waiting too long.”

He ducked out of the room, giving you ample room and privacy to change. You slipped out of your work uniform and pulled on the given dress; it was red in color, and made of silk. It clung to your body, accentuating your curves; there was something about this dress that made you feel so pretty. Most other uniforms you were given were unflattering at best and purposely ugly at the best. You appreciated the prince’s good tastes.

The others gossiped about the situation you all were in as you pulled on your shoes. You weren’t much for gossip usually, but you understood how odd this situation was.

“So the rumors of the Prince are true!”

“Who knew that a royal could have such a ravenous appetite!”

“Of course he would! Those types always get what they want.”

You chuckled as your mind wandered to your night with Cad. They weren’t entirely wrong; royals were just as fickle and just as horny as everyone else. But you couldn’t imagine Cad throwing such a party. Hell, you couldn’t even imagine him attending such a circus! Prince Embo surely was something else...

You made sure your shoes were on tightly, and slipped out the door. You wanted to get a feel for the place before the chaos began. You took note of the supplies on the table near the door, and of the bar you had somehow missed. So far, there was nothing illegal, but you weren’t certain it would stay that way.

The main floor was still only populated by prostitutes at this point, despite the Prince’s warning that guests would soon be arriving. Some were fixing their hair or make-up, and some were chatting it up with anyone around. Missing, however, was the Prince. You tried to find his towering frame in the crowd, but that was easier said than done.

A hand slid across your back to your shoulders, and you jumped in surprise. You turned, noting Prince Embo staring back at you. You lowered your gaze respectfully, and he responded by wheeling you around to face him, and gripping your chin in his free hand.

“I think I would like for you to be my personal attendant tonight.” He purred, tipping your head back so he could look at you better. His glowing gold eyes searched your soul, and you couldn’t help but bite your lip in response. “Pretty thing. It is too bad you are not one of my entertainers tonight.”

His presence was engulfing, and your heart skipped a beat. His thumb brushed over your lips, and you had to stop yourself from parting your lips and accepting it into your mouth. Mindlessly, you edged closer, and the hand on your shoulder slid downward….

“Well, I’ll be damned.” A familiar voice drawled and you winced; of all the people that could have walked through the door at this time, it had to be Cad. The only royal who actively had a past with you, and the one you figured wouldn’t dare be seen at such a function. You turned away from Embo’s grasp, glancing over at an amused Cad. “Didn’t expect t’ see ya here.”

“I only hire the best.” Embo explained, sauntering over to his chair, which overlooked the rest of the room.

“Yeah. De best.” Cad smirked. There was no malice in his tone; rather, you figured this was his attempt at teasing. “Dat’s de one dat spilled wine all over yer mother’s dress."

Blood rushed to your face, and you were thankful that the lights are so dim; you had just barely forgotten about that whole mess, and now Cad had to bring it back up - to the Queen’s own son, nonetheless! You wanted nothing more than to crawl into a hole and die.

Your self-pitying was cut short by a loud laugh from Embo; at first, you were glad that he wasn’t upset by this information. But then, you realized that he was likely laughing at you. Your mood soured, and you crossed your arms over your chest in a pout.

“So that was you? Oh, my mother raved about you for days after that.” Embo leaned back on his little throne, spreading out like he owned the place. Maybe he did.

“I… what?” You dropped your arms, confused.

“You gave her an excuse to change out of that gods-awful dress my father bought her. She wanted to hire you to ruin whatever gifts he gave her, but we had to talk her out of it.”

“Shouldn’t have.” Cad chuckled. “It would be the best job she’d ever have in her miserable little peasant life.”

“Hey now.” You frowned. “We talked about this.”

“Yeah, yeah. I know.” Cad waved you off as he drew closer. “You wouldn’t happen t’ be available tonight?”

“She is an attendant, Cad. And mine for the night.”

“Figures. You always bag de good ones.” Cad shook his head as he stood; he looked you up and down with a licentious smirk. “I’ll see you ‘round, den.”

“Of course.”

You watched Cad retreat to settle in a nearby chair. One of the prostitutes - a handsome man - approached, sitting on the arm of the chair. Well… at least Cad was there in case things got out of hand.

Embo called to you, and you turned toward him; he gestured with his two fingers, watching with an intensity as you approached. You bowed your head when you reached the foot of his chair, and he tsked.

“None of that.” He told you. “There is no need for pleasantries here. Now… fetch me a drink.”

-

You had never been around so much sex in your entire life. Everywhere you turned, there was someone giving someone else head, or someone riding someone else’s dick. The room was filled with the sounds of skin against skin, of gagging, of slicked up cunts… and the moans… oh the moans!

You edged around one of the beds -where a princess was getting gangbanged by a group of various alien men- carrying the tray of goodies to your prince. Embo was leaned back in his chair, looking surprisingly bored even as two ladies fondled his cock. You leaned down to hand him his drink, which he accepted with a grunt.

“You don’t seem to be enjoying this, my Prince.”

He just shrugged nonchalantly as he sipped at his drink. “I am not feeling particularly inspired.”

With a wave of the hand, he dismissed the two ladies, and closed his robe up. You set your tray down and knelt before him. He carded a hand through your hair, muttering something in his mother tongue. “Is there anything I can do to make this a better experience?”

He glanced over at you, his gaze lazily trailing down your form; something - which you figured was lust- sparked in his golden eyes, but he was not quick to act on his feelings. He gestured with his free hand, and you offered him some sort of smokable, which you figured was not smart given his need for a breathing mask. He lit it and slumped back in his chair.

“No. Stay your course, kamour.”

“Are you sure, my Prince? I… am offering to help you. You hired me to help, right?” You inquired, reaching out to touch his hand. He glanced over at you, and you wondered how much convincing it would take him before he realized you were serious. Not much, it turned out.

“I am no monster. Say the word and I will let you go.”

“Of course.” You settled between his parted legs, your soft hands slowly sliding up his naked thighs. What was it your boss said? Oh, that you were attendants and not whores. Well, what he didn’t know wouldn’t kill him.

Your hands swept under his satin robe, parting it open to reveal his large cock. You wrapped your hand around the base of it, and slowly worked your way up his length. He was already hard from the ministrations of the prostitutes, the head of his cock flushed a deep and needy green. You leaned forward, gathering spit in your mouth before drooling it out onto his cock; you locked gazes with him as you spread your saliva down and around his shaft.

“Now, dat ain’t fair.” Cad’s voice startled you from your task, and you turned to spy him sitting on the arm of an unused chair. He was completely naked, with his arms crossed over his chest. “You said she was an attendant.”

“I did not lie. She is attending.” Embo put his mask back into place, and ran his hand through your hair. “She is doing her duty.”

“Yeah, well, I want in on dis.”

“That is up to her.”

You hardly even had to think - you reached for Cad, wrapping your hand around his slick, hard cock. You gave him a pump, and Cad hissed through gritted teeth in response. You gestured for him to move closer, and he did; the princes met gazes but said nothing to each other as you reached the other hand out to stroke Embo’s cock.

You stroked them both at the same time, reveling in the hisses and grunts trickling from their mouths. The way their cocks pulsed in your hands was enough to make your pussy tingle, and arousal slowly built within you. There was something depraved about this - about a lowly attendant pleasuring two powerful princes in the midst of a sex party - but the depravity only added to your pleasure. You could hardly stop yourself from grinding your needy cunt against the heel of your own foot.

“Enough of dis pussy-footin’. Are ya gonna suck me off or what?” Cad drawled, as impatient as ever; you quirked a brow as you leaned forward to give him a long, wet lick. He growled in response, his hands threading in your hair. “Come on, doll… don’t be teasin’ me now.”

“You forget that you weren’t the first man I was pleasing.” You replied, your voice wavering. You weren’t sure it was a good idea to talk back to him, especially in this position. Though, you supposed, you held the power when you held his cock. Any wayward comment and you were in a prime position to bite him. You figured he wouldn’t risk it.

Cad scoffed and you leaned away to wrap your lips around the head of Embo’s cock. He chuckled and leaned back.

“She is not lying.”

“You shut up.” Cad muttered as he pressed a hand to the back of your head, almost as if he was trying to guide you. You rolled your eyes but didn’t protest.

It went like this for a while - you’d take one into your mouth, bobbing and sucking like a good little whore, before pulling away to take the other one. You felt oddly powerful knowing you had the ability to bring these two princes to their knees with only a touch. You reveled in this power for as long as you could before Embo lifted you up and sat you on his lap. He pulled you close to his chest, purring.

“I am going in you.” He told you, giving you ample time to back out of it. When you didn’t protest, he lifted you as though you weighed nothing, and turned you to face Cad. He guided you onto his cock, and you winced as the head slipped into your drooling cunt. You hadn’t realized that he was quite this large. He gripped your hips, controlling how slowly you eased down onto him so you didn’t hurt yourself.

Cad waited until you were ready before offering his cock to your mouth once more. You parted your lips, your eyes half-lidded and darkened with lust, and he chuckled.

“Are ya cock-dumb already, doll?” He reached out to tangle his hand in your hair. “Are our cocks just dat good?”

You nodded in response to this, greedily latching around his cock and sucking hard. He let out a hiss and tugged at your hair, spurning you to start bobbing up and down his length. At the same time, you had fully engulfed Embo, sheathing his cock deep within you. Your whine was lost amongst the sloppy slurps of Cad’s cock easing in and out of your wet mouth.

Embo slowly, gingerly, eased in and out of you, taking care not to hurt you in the process. Every time he pulled his cock half out of you, you took Cad’s cock to the hilt with a gag. Every time Embo bottomed out within you, you pulled away to breathe. It was tough to find the right rhythm at first, but when you did, the pleasure was all-encompassing. Your head was spinning, arousal burning deep within the well of your stomach; your eyes rolled back and your hands went to your breasts, squeezing so tightly you were sure they’d bruise.

“Think she could take us both in there?” Cad asked, and your mind wandered at the prospect. You imagined the sensation of their cocks filling up your cunt, stretching you out in a way you’ve never felt before. The idea was fascinating, and a bit frightening. You didn’t realize that you were drooling around Cad’s cock until your spit splattered on your thigh.

Embo leaned you back against his chest, a finger probing at your cock-stuffed pussy. He slipped it inside, and your eyes went wide; Cad’s cock slipped from your mouth as the air vacated your lungs. You quivered against Embo, a pathetic little whimper escaping your lips.

“No… not unless you intend to split her in half.”

“Shame.” Cad shook his head; he pondered for a minute, before tipping your chin up. “Stay here. I’ll be back.”

As if you had other plans. Embo rested his head against you shoulder, purring softly. “I would like to see your pretty face, kamour.”

“Alright.” You turned around, facing the prince; you couldn’t tell for sure, but you guessed he was smiling behind that mask of his. His large hand cupped your cheek, and you leaned into his warmth.

“Beautiful.” He slowly rocked his hips up into you again, and you whimpered. “A beautiful, sex drunk whore. You like my cock, hm?”

“Yes.” You breathed, matching his thrusts by rolling your hips; his finger slipped out of your cunt, and instead stroked your swollen, trembling clit. A fire built in your stomach, and your vision went blurry. Your orgasm was within reach! You gasped out his name, your voice strained yet velveteen. Embo’s eyes brightened at this, and he reached up to wrap a steady hand around your neck.

“Say it again. Say my name again.” He commanded, his voice husky with his own desire. You whimpered.

“Embo….”

“Again!” He rubbed at your clit faster, slamming up into you with a ferocity you had never felt before. You could hardly find the strength within you, but you couldn’t displease him.

“Embo!” You cried out, your entire body quivering as the fire of orgasm consumed you. Your head danced in the clouds as your body went limp and useless against him. He held you close, his hands dancing over your form.

“Shit, did I miss out on all de fun?”

You lifted your head and glanced over your shoulder to spy Cad with his hands on his hips. You shook your head, your tongue weighing like lead in your mouth. You gestured for him to draw closer, which he did, and you gave his now condom-clad cock a stroke.

“I do think she can take more.” Embo hummed, his hand rubbing at your thigh. You nodded in agreement at this, and Cad leaned down to nip at your neck.

“Good. Do you still want to take de both of us?”

“Yes!” You chirped, and Cad chuckled.

“So eager.” Cad maneuvered you into Embo’s chest, giving him better access to your ass. Cad lubed you up with a bottle he had grabbed from somewhere, and gently eased into you. A strangled cry escaped from somewhere within you as Cad brushed against the thin, sensitive wall separating his cock from Embo’s. You could hardly keep yourself upright, the sensations quickly overwhelming you; Embo had to keep you from falling completely limp onto his chest.

“Easy now. This is not too much for you, is it?”

You shook your head at this. “N-no.”

“‘Course it ain’t.” Cad yanked on your hair, pulling your head back enough so you could look him in the eyes. He smirked, and then sheathed himself within you. You let out a cry, and his smirk deepened into a depraved smile. “Yer a good lil’ doll. You can handle us.”

“Yes! Yes!” You whined in agreement as they both slowly rocked into you. Every inch of you was set ablaze as they took turns massaging that oh-so-sensitive wall. Cad released your hair, his hand instead sliding down to roll your nipple between two of his fingers. His other hand gripped at your hip, keeping you steady. Embo’s hand returned to your clit, pinching and rolling the overstimulated bud around until you were panting and pleading for release. Your admissions only made them hasten their paces, and soon, they were both slamming into you. Your head lolled back on your useless neck, resting squarely on Cad’s chest; your legs quivered and jerked as you chased after your second orgasm. Hands wandered, acquainting themselves with every aspect of your body; this only added fuel to the fire which threatened to consume you once more.

With only a few more thrusts, you came undone. Your vision went white as you rode waves of pure bliss, only faintly aware of how erratic their paces had become. It wasn’t until Cad lurched forward and bit you that you were pulled from your euphoria.

His fangs pierced your skin, surely drawing blood; his orgasm, contained by the condom, manifested in quick, jerky motions up into you. Slowly, he eased out of you, lapping up any blood that had trickled from the wound.

Embo found his pleasure not long after that, shooting his cum deep within you; the searing heat of his seed was unexpected, but wasn’t unpleasant. You were almost certain that if he hadn’t been wearing his mask, he probably would have bit you too. He, unlike Cad, didn’t ease out of you. He let you decide what it was you wanted to do, even if it meant keeping his soft cock in you until he hardened up again. You did, however, ease off of him to sit on his lap.

“Dat was good, doll. I might need t’ keep ya around.”

“Yes, well, you may have competition.” He leaned toward you, humming. “Though, I suppose it would be your choice.”

“Who says I have to choose?” You managed, your voice sultry. They cast glances at each other, and Cad shrugged.

“‘Spose that could work.”

Taglist!: @sat-nam-saint @that-clone-wars-girl

You leaned back into the warm chest of one of your Princes. Huh. You liked the sound of that. Who would have thought that someone like you could pull two Princes!

-

#cad bane #embo #royal au #star wars smut #smut #star wars #my fanfiction #iri writes

[httpknjoon]

once again │myg; 1

plot│ How can an eight year relationship turned as a bitter past? Can such thing can be rekindled once again? After your friend invited you to come to your home country after a long time, you decided to visit for three weeks. In three weeks, many things can happen. Including meeting Min Yoongi once again. 

genres│ angst,  little fluff over there, exes!au

word count│3.4k

pairings │yoongi x reader, taehyung x reader (esp in this chapter)

masterlist | once again — preview

Are you nervous? Happy? Excited? Sad? Or angry?

You don’t know.

Wheels were rolling everywhere. Some people seem to be struggling and hurrying with their own kinds of stuff. While others are just sitting peacefully, knowing that they are still early for their flights. On the other side, you were sitting on a cold, metal, airport seating. Looking around, you were waiting for someone to arrive before you leave.

“Is everything okay? I mean, your stuff? You already have everything you should bring right?”

You panned your eyes to your side. Naeun, your best friend, is looking at you worriedly with her puffed eyes. You nodded with a tight-lipped smile and wandered your eyes around the place again. Naeun watched you at first. She knew you were waiting for someone. And she was also aware that you were nervous based on how your fingers fidget on your luggage’s handle. You kept on biting your lower lip unconsciously.

“Did you two talked already? Did he said he’s going?” Naeun asked.

“Yes and no.” You answered, already knowing who she was talking of. “Yes, we talked. I told him that we can work on our relationship as long as we have our phones or laptops. But, you know how Yoongi feels about goodbyes, right?”

“Yeah.”

“But, I am just hoping that maybe he will drop by to hug or kiss me for one last time.” You sighed deeply, looking down.

A month ago, you were over the moon after receiving an e-mail that you passed for a job as a column writer for a magazine. It was your dream job. Plus, you will be traveling to a new country, Canada. You were literally going to the other side of the world, a thousand miles away. The main reason why your boyfriend was literally against you, accepting this job, in the first place. You and Yoongi have been together for eight years but this will be the first time that you two will be far from each other.

“Good evening, passengers. This is the pre-boarding announcement for flight YYZ 2308 to Toronto, Canada. We are now inviting passengers to begin boarding at this time. Please have your boarding pass and identification ready. Regular boarding will begin in approximately ten minutes. Thank you.”

Only ten minutes left. You were still hoping for Yoongi to come. Squeezing your eyes close, you secretly prayed for him to maybe arrive somewhere here.

“I think you should go,” Naeun said.

“No, I still have a few minutes.” You tried to sound positive and waited over and over until...

“This is the final boarding call for passengers booked on flight YYZ 2308 to Toronto, Canada. Please proceed to gate 2 immediately. The final checks are being completed and the captain will order for the doors of the aircraft to close in approximately ten minutes. I repeat. This is the final boarding call for passengers booked on flight YYZ 2308. Thank you.”

“Okay.”

That was your final call. You and Naeun stood up from your seats. Naeun began crying once again as she hugs you before you board your flight.

“Take care there, Y/N. Don’t overwork yourself. Don’t skip meals, okay?” Your best friend told you, sounding like a parent to her child.

“Thank you so much, Naeun. I’ll try calling you when I arrive there. I will miss you and everyone. Tell them that I’ll miss them too.” You hugged her tightly.

The hug did not last long and you are now proceeding to Gate Two. The attendant greeted you after you handed your boarding pass and identification card.

“Wait, Y/N.”

Yoongi was the one who runs to you since you were already in the line. His chest was heaving as he hugged you.

“You came.” You were still in disbelief.

“Yeah, I’m kinda late but I want to see you before you leave,” Yoongi whispered. “Take care of yourself while being there, okay? Do well with your job. Call me when you get there.”

That’s when you cried. Two weeks ago, you and Yoongi have been fighting since he cannot let you go there. But you explained your reasons and goals. Back then, Yoongi just agreed with a nod, not saying much and already admitting your win. Now, Yoongi is here, cheering you for your plans. You two hugged as tight as you can before leaning your foreheads together.

“I love you so much. Thank you so much, Yoongi.” You sobbed.

“I love you too,” 

For the last time, both of you shared a short but sweet kiss. You smiled as you let go. The flight attendant smiled at you after handing you your identification card. You knew she already has seen a hundred of this same scene you and Yoongi made. You looked at Yoongi for the last time and you wave him a hand while showing you his gummy smile. It made you smile more, knowing that he supports you and you will be calling him once you landed in Canada.

The loud ringing of your phone woke you up. You shuffled on your bed, looking for that noisy device. Your face scrunched. It took you two more minutes to finally find it under some pillows. It was only 6:30 AM, you can't think of someone who will call you this early. But, your eyes immediately lit up as you read who was calling you early in the morning.

“Good morning!” You are already in good vibes as you greeted the caller.

“Good morning, love. Did I call you too early?” His voice is still raspy, indicating that maybe he just woke up too.

“No, it’s fine. I did not hear my alarm clock minutes ago.” You answered, now sitting on your bed.

“Nice! Let’s go to work together, okay? I’ll pick you up later. Let’s buy breakfast on the way.”

“Okay, okay. Love you.” 

After the call ended, you immediately went straight to your bathroom. This is how your day began. It has been four years since you had your job as a column writer and you no longer work in Canada. Three years ago, you were offered to work in the magazine’s main office in New York City. And of course, you said yes. It was the total dream that came true for you. You haven’t visited Seoul ever since you left. You were busy and after things changed in between those years, you never had plans of coming back again. You and your best friend, Naeun, never lost in touch anyways. You two always talk through video calls with her little girl, Jina.

‘Will be there in five minutes.’

You read your boyfriend’s text just after you just blow dry your hair. Your makeup was already done and you started fixing your hair for a simple side braid. Minutes later, you were already leaving your apartment in your office clothes and classic black heels. Your eyes were quick to spot the familiar black car in front of your apartment building. One of its windows rolled down, revealing your boyfriend.

“Let’s go?”

You smiled before opening the door to the passenger seat. As soon as you got in, you gave him a quick kiss on his lips.

“So, where do you want to have breakfast?” He asked as he drove.

You went silent and started thinking, “Maybe we should drive-thru into that coffeehouse.”

“You said that you don’t drink coffee.” 

“I don’t. But, I heard that they sell great pastries too, Tae.” You responded.

Taehyung did not say anything and turned the wheel to the coffeehouse. He was the one who ordered after you told him what you want. You almost squealed because of excitement when you smelled the delicious smell of freshly baked muffins that you got.

“Thank you, love.” You placed a kiss on his cheek before giving a bite of the chocolate chip muffin. “So good.”

Taehyung could not help but giggle at how cute you look. Tiny crumbs of the bread were left on the side of your lips.

“Hey, be careful about eating. You might re-do your make up after that."

"Then, I will re-do it later. It's just so good."

You grinned once again, not aware that there is some evidence of chocolate on your front teeth. Your boyfriend just laughed and continued driving. Not long after, you two arrived in your office building. You work in the same magazine. Taehyung’s job is a creative director, suited for his artistic mind.

“Was the chocolate gone? How do I look?” You asked him after cleaning yourself up.

“Lovely.” He smiled.

You rolled your eyes, “Yeah, I remembered that I should not have asked you.”

“What? Why?”

“You will always say I look great even though I look shitty.” 

You heard him chuckle, “You do look great anytime, love!”

The two of you strolled side by side inside your building. You met your other co-workers in the elevator. When the door opened to the fifteenth floor, the whole place is still quiet and empty. Each of you went to your own cubicle and desks. Since you have been working in this magazine for three years now, your working place was already personalized by you. Many neon-colored sticky notes were placed on the wall. A picture frame sat beside your computer desktop, showing an image of you and Taehyung.

After fixing your things, you began working on your last document. The topic that was given to you was quite hard for you though you experienced a few parts of it. You tried researching and interviewing other people about it, hoping that you will be able to make something from it. But, you found it hard. So, you just type whatever in your head. You thought of asking Claire, your editor in chief, to change your topic. But, on the other side, you also thought that maybe it can help you to explore more. You tried processing every information you got and type it all away. You got busy that you did not notice a phone notification from a particular person.

"Hey, Y/N."

You looked up from your computer screen. It was Jane, your co-worker, and friend.

"Me and Henry’s eating out for lunch. Do you and Taehyung want to join?” She invited you.

"Hmm? What time is it already?" You asked since you never really bothered watching your time while working.

"It's almost one in the afternoon."

“Oh, okay. I’ll join it.”

You stood up from your chair and secured your document to your computer. You picked up your phone and wallet from your bag.

“But, I will still ask Tae if he is joining.” You added.

Taehyung is in his shared office with the magazine’s design team. Since they have a glass wall, you already spotted your boyfriend all alone focused on his desktop. It looks like his other colleague already left for lunch. You knocked three times on the glass, making him look up to you. You mouthed ‘let’s have lunch’. Taehyung was quick to get your sentence and left his work.

“You seem so focused there, love.” You told him as you and Taehyung stay behind your two friends.

"Yeah, the team decided a new theme for this month's issue. I had to change many things with my latest work."

Taehyung kept on talking while you thought of checking your phone. And there, you finally noticed the message you received a couple of hours ago. It was from Naeun, asking you to give her a call in your free time. You and Naeun never lost communication in between those years and it’s not new that she messaged you like this. This time, you feel like Naeun has something to tell you. But after checking the time there in Seoul, you thought that maybe you should call her later.

Henry and Jane lead you to the newly opened restaurant, not too far in your building. You only ordered a chicken salad and tomato soup. While eating, they started talking about what they are currently working on. The four of you shared ideas and opinions to help one another until they asked you about yours.

“My topic is extremely hard for me right now.” You told them.

“Oh, that’s new. You always do good research with your subjects.” Henry responded.

“That’s right. Why? What is it all about?” Taehyung also asked.

You did not hesitate to answer since you expected that maybe they can share their own experiences too. But what Jane had told you took you back for a bit.

“Hey, I think that’s easy. I’m sure you got through a break up before. Hmm? You will get some pointers from that.”

It’s true that you already got through a breakup before. But, you are sure that you will not get anything from it. Your article topic was completely missing with the first and only break up you have encountered. The old memories from the past crashed inside your head again. Your heart began beating like crazy again as you

“Love?”

Suddenly, Taehyung held your unconsciously balled fist. You were clutching it too tight that your knuckles turned white. A hint of worry was found in his expression.

“Are you okay?”

You sighed before nodding slowly. Taehyung played with your fingers by pinching each one of it softly, a thing he always does to calm you down when stuff like this happens. The lunch did not take any longer. You and your friends went back to your jobs.

“Are you okay now?” Taehyung asked as you sat back to your swivel chair.

"Yeah, I'm sorry about that." You said sincerely.

You felt sorry that he still has to deal with you having an issue from your past. But Taehyung held your hand again and left a kiss on your forehead.

"You don't have to be sorry. I will always understand."

The day went on. You ended up writing nothing since you cannot focus. You tried anything to type something. Your article was left just like what it was before you had your lunch break. It felt like your head is going to burst while forcing it to focus on your article.

The whole ride back home with Taehyung was silent, only the radio produces a noise. You chose to stay in Taehyung's place for dinner. He said he will order some fast food meals. As soon as you got home and get changed with your boyfriend's clothes, Taehyung called for a food delivery while you contact Naeun. Maybe it will help you to think less.

"Finally! I thought you did not read my message." Naeun said on the other line.

"Well, sorry. I thought that maybe I should call you after you wake up there. Remember? Time difference?" You scoffed.

"Oh, okay. Sorry. Anyways, Y/N, can I ask you a favor?"

You can imagine Naeun acting cute with her puppy eyes just for her tone.

"Sure, just don't make it something illegal or what." you joked, making you both giggle.

"Can you please, please, pretty please come here in Seoul? Maybe just a visit?"

"What?" you almost whispered.

You did not expect that even though you know you should have. It was the first time Naeun begged you like this after you left and you understood her. It's been years.

"Come on, Y/N. Everyone here misses you! Especially the gang. Jina, Me, Seokjin, Namjoon, and... Yoongi." She was obviously unsure of the last one since the tone of her voice changed.

"Yeah?"

That was the only thing you can say. There is a part of you who wants to say yes because of course, you miss them too. But there is also the other half of you who is extremely anxious and just wants to decline Naeun's request. You are afraid to see Yoongi again after four years. And you hate how crumbled your mind is.

You heard Naeun let out a big air from the other line, "Listen, if this is about Yoongi, I swear. It's been years! I'm sure he will be happier to see you again than act something bad because you guys broke up. I'm sure that everything will be cool."

"Are you sure?" You were biting the insides of your cheeks. Still, you're glad that she's aware of you and Yoongi.

"Of course! We just want to see you again! You can bring your boyfriend if you want."

As if he heard it, Taehyung sat beside you on the couch. He is playing something on his phone. You looked at him as you talked again.

"Yeah?" You were still unsure. "I-I will think about it or check my schedule or something."

"Okay, Y/N. We just really miss having you here. Love you. Miss you so much!"

"Miss you too."

That's when you ended the call. Taehyung stopped with his game when you noticed you were done already with the call. He can see how troubled you are.

"Naeun and my friends want me to visit them there." You opened up.

"Oh, that's great. Right?" He smiled but you frowned even more.

"Yup, but I'm having thoughts again." You fiddle on the hem of his big shirt you're wearing.

"Well, do you want to talk about it?" Taehyung's voice was gentle.

You looked at him, thinking if he will be comfortable with this conversation you two are having.

"Are you sure?" you asked him and he smiles once again. "I mean, I know I should not be anxious about this. Especially now that I have you and we are together. But, my ex is there and I don't know what can happen."

Taehyung engulfed you with a warm hug. You rested your head on his chest while he repeatedly slides his hand with your hair.

"I know that you feel kind of awkward for telling me these kinds of stuff about your ex but remember that I am your best friend too. I am willing to hear anything and everything from you. I am happy that you are opening up to me like this and I think it would be a great idea to go visit them again."

"Really?" You asked, still snuggled under his neck.

"Yes. It was your home and they are your friends. I am sure you miss them so much too."

You removed yourself from and looked at him.

"And what about Yoongi? Are you okay with him? I mean, we are in one circle of friends. Will it be fine for you?"

Taehyung cupped both of your cheeks, "Love, I trust you. I understand that you two have been together for almost a decade but I trust you. I know that you will never do such a thing. Right?"

You can see how Taehyung is sincere with everything he said. He gave you a peck on your lips and hugged you again.

"Anyways, think about it. If you're uncomfortable with going back there. Then, it's fine. They will understand."

You hugged him back. The amount of comfort Taehyung gave you for today was amazing. Even though every trouble you had today was connected to your past.

Yoongi.

He is now a part of your past, right?

You thought. Reflecting on what Taehyung said. Maybe visiting your old place will be a great idea. Maybe it will result in something wonderful despite the past.

Maybe.

"Three weeks leave?"

Your editor in chief, Claire, looked up from you after reading your letter. You felt a little nervous though Claire was never strict. But, it was your first time requesting leave and you thought that maybe the days you requested were too long.

"Uhm, yes. But, I will still write and pass my articles and research through e-mail. I am just staying back home for weeks." You explained.

"Okay, I see." Claire nodded, looking back to your letter. "I think this was the first time you ask for a leave. Please, correct me if I'm wrong."

"Oh, yes. This is the first time."

"Okay. You can take your leave. Just send your works through e-mail and we'll be fine." She smiles friendly. "When will you be taking your leave?"

"Three days from now."

Three days later, you are now standing in the line for boarding with your luggage. You took a cab going to the airport. Taehyung cannot come with you since he still has to go to work but he lets you wear a hoodie of his to make you feel he is 'with you'. That's what he said. He asked you to update him with your departure and arrival. Even now, before you leave, you sent him a picture of you pouting. It willl be a fourteen-hour flight and you cannot text him between those hours.

Now, you sat on your seat inside the plane. There's an extremely tiny voice inside your body that says, "No, don't go back there. Past is past." But there was also the larger one who blocks it with "Go, Y/N. It's time to face the past again."

Your head was a little less messy than last week. And you hope that staying in Seoul for three weeks will only bring good memories. You hope that you'll finally find an answer to the article topic you still writing on.

🍒 taglist 🍒 < @ladykadyrova @scalubera @biaswreckeedbybts @scentedsope @whocaresarchives @craftymoonchaos > <and if you anted to be added for next chapter's taglist, leave a reply 🦋>

author’s note │i hope you enjoyed the first chapter of once again! this one may be full of taehyung and y/n moments but next following chapters will include more yoongi and their gang. let me know your thoughts!!

masterlist

#bts au #bts angst #bts smut #bts fluff #bts imagine #yoongi angst #yoongi smut #yoongi fluff #min yoongi #once again #httpknjoon #bts x reader #bts

[anjuschiffer]

Amira Wayne - Chapter 21

To think this took me two weeks instead of one...oh well...

Chapter 21: Advice

-

P.Tag: @theatreandcomicfreak @daminette-is-life @toodaloo-kangaroo @elijahcrevan @vixen-uchiha @nathleigh @startouchedqueen1318

Tag: @we-want-mini-mini @ramos123 @bluesimani @redscarlet95 @greatcatblaze @promiswords @fantasiame @corabeth11 @anonymously-odd @alexandriamw @officiallydarkgeek @galla02006 @maleive07 @jayjayspixiepop

-

MASTERLIST | FIRST | PREV | AO3

Amira pushed Damian aside, not having a moment to yell at him before she was engaged into combat by Deathstroke yet again. 

She blocked attack after attack with her staff, having to spring off his blade at one point, connecting the end of her staff to the side of his head, cracking his eye-sore of a helmet. Just as she was about to attack again, she was pushed aside by Damian, Amira rolling and colliding with a destroyed column. 

“I told you to stay out of my way!” Damian yelled at her as he exchanged blows with Deathstroke. Metal grinded against metal as Damian drove Deathstroke into a waltz, the two exchanging attacks, using picture frames and statues in hopes of slowing the other down. 

Amira watched as frames were destroyed, faces distorted as wood flew all over the place, statues crumbling to pieces as they met a blade or the floor. 

When Deathstroke finished introducing himself earlier, Damian quickly launched himself into combat, the two quickly making a mess of the study. Not wanting them to destroy it even further, Amira extended her staff and rammed it into Deathstroke’s back, causing him to plant his face onto the wall. 

“Stay out of my fight.” Damian gritted, Amira not backing down.

“This is my fight as well. This is my home after all.” Amira bluntly stated, watching as Damian huffed at her response. “And I want him out and away from here.”

Before either could continue their argument, Deathstroke was back up and ready to go, which Damian happily continued where the two had left off.

Amira watched as Damian led Deathstroke to the entrance of the manor, even at the cost of the staircase, Tim almost launching himself into the fight before Amira held him back.

“Isn’t your arm injured?”

“Aren’t we going to help him?” Tim asked back, flinching when Amira glared at him. 

“I will be helping him. You stay here.” Amira instructed, extending the staff into its full length.

“I can still fight.”

“Not with that arm you can’t.”

“Let me-”

“Drake.” Amira sternly said, watching as Tim sunk into himself. “Remember how I told you a Robin has to be well rounded and excel in combat?” She didn’t let him respond. “They also have to know their place in a fight, so for you, it means to stay here, at the sidelines.” With that, Amira left Tim alone to provide some type of support towards Damian…

Or at least that was the plan…

Whenever she tried to help Damian, she would get attacked by him or have him collide with her. Or even worse, be his personal shield or decoy. He would then have the audacity to yell at her for interfering and for being merciful. When she would have an opportunity to take Deathstroke by surprise, Damian would get in her way and cast her aside, not caring about having wasted a perfectly good plan.

And that’s how it had been playing out for the past few minutes since then, leading to now.

“Argh!” Damian yelled out as Deathstroke had managed to knock his sword out of his hand and stab his own into Damian’s arm. 

Unsheathing his other sword, Deathstroke was about to use it to pin Damian to the wall only for Amira to catapult her way towards Damian, dropping kicking Deathstroke in the face. 

“I had it handled.” Damian told her as he pulled out the sword from his arm, the blood dripping onto the floor.

“You’re welcome.” Amira threw back, taking out the weapons in the holster she had picked up earlier, watching Deathstroke charge at her.

Deciding to meet him halfway, Amira somersaulted, kicking the hilt of his sword, causing the sword to fly elsewhere.

With a quick motion, Amira stabbed his arm with a blade before cartwheeling backwards.

Deathstroke let out a groan as he took the blade out, not expecting to have the blade pulled away from his hand, letting out a grunt as blood seeped from his palm. But just as he composed himself, he was met with consecutive hits from another rope dart, having to remain still as the force of the hits grew stronger.

Amira continued to whirl her rope, alternating hands to increase the speed and force of her hits, only for it to be deflected in the end. That’s when he noticed it wasn’t a rope dart, but instead a yo-yo.

“Is that all you got?” Deathstroke asked her. She didn’t respond, instead, she redirected her rope dart to swing under her leg, the heavy alloy yo-yo connecting with his chin, causing him to take a few steps back from the impact.

“How’s an 8-lb yo-yo to the chin feel?” Amira asked, catching the yo-yo with ease before wrapping it around the man, causing him to fall to the floor. “I have some questions for you.” She walked towards him, only for him to break free from her grasp.

She froze as he took out a gun, only managing to snap out of it when a small device attached itself to it and exploded, causing Deathstroke to drop it. Judging from its trajectory, it had to have been Tim’s doing.

That and the fact that she doubted Damian would do anything to try and defend her when his pride and ego were on the line.

However, within that second, a kunai found itself digging into Deathstroke’s eye, Amira feeling the sudden urge to retch. She watched as Damian flew past her and dug the kunai further into the eye socket, only then causing Amira to react.

“Stop it!” She yelled, pulling off Damian of Deathstroke and facing him. “You’re going to kill him!”

“He needs to be killed for trying to-”

“We still need to-” Amira grunted as she was forced into Damian, causing the two to tumble forward. 

“Squabbling while turning your back to your opponent? Not a very smart thing to do.” Deathstroke reminded them, taking out another gun and aiming it towards the two of them. While Damian tried to pry Amira off of him, he stopped when he noticed her frozen expression of fear.

Just as Damian was going to roll the two of them away, someone slammed a staff behind Deathstroke’s helmet, causing the thing to split into two.

“Tim.” Damian heard Amira whisper, watching as fear still filled her eyes. She pulled Deathstroke back when she saw him make a dash for a retreating Tim, Tim using that opportunity to drop an axe kick.

Damian watched as the two continued to fight together, Amira calculating every strike, not wasting a single swing. Damian watched as Tim dodged and danced with Amira, not a single word spoken between them as they fought Deathstroke together.

He felt like he was being casted aside...unnecessary...not needed...

As he continued to watch them fight, Damian noticed them leading Deathstroke to the center of the lobby, Damian eyeing the chandelier above them. He then noticed the other rope dart Amira had brought in with her, lying abandoned at the side of the room.

It was then that he remembered the other thing he always found himself carrying with him...

A small plan began to form in his mind, Damian quickly picking up the rope dart to start setting it up.

Tim regretted having missed Amira’s soreness from having been using her weapon for the past ten minutes, watching as her attack barely reached Deathstroke’s face. With an attack having gone to waste, the man used the opportunity to focus on Tim alone, allowing him to throw the boy in the direction he had finished jumping from.

Amira managed to grab Tim before he met the floor, not noticing the incoming attack from Deathstroke. Just as his dagger was about to reach her, something hit Deathstroke in the face, Tim noticing a black case landed at his feet.

“Over here!” Damian yelled, causing everyone to look up, watching as Damian landed perfectly square on Deathstroke’s shoulders, the boy not only wrapping his legs around the man, but also the chain of the rope dart Amira recognized as her own.

Amira watched as Damian kept Deathstroke in the hold, watching as the man was starting to find his way out of it. “Use the thing inside the case!” Damian yelled at Tim, Tim freezing when he saw what was inside.

“I-I can’t use this.” Tim whispered, turning to Amira after having read the label. “We can’t-” He watched as Amira grabbed the case and casually walked up to Deathstroke.

“Don’t worry Tim.” Amira took the needle out of the case, wondering where Damian even managed to get his hands on the venom. “We’re not killing him, just torturing him.”

Without hesitation, Amira stabbed it into a patch of exposed skin (courtesy of Damian’s sword), watching as the man screamed and grunted as he fought against the pain. “After all, we don’t kill.”

“Well said, Amira.” Tim jumped from Amira’s flinch when Bruce spoke up.

The three turned their heads to see Bruce at the doorway, an elderly man with a smile on his face next to him. While a majority of his hair was tied back, tufts of white poked a bit from the side, Amira knowing who he was the minute he saw his eyes…

So he was the man whose eyes she inherited.... 

“Father...Ra’s.” Damian addressed, tying up Deathstroke before going to them, his heart sinking a bit when Bruce walked past him and went towards Amira, not even bothering to acknowledge him.

“Are you alright, Amira?” Amira turned away from her father as he fussed over the bruises and cuts on her face. 

“I’m...fine.” She said, swatting away her father’s gentleness, only then noticing that Alfred had silently joined them. “Grandpere.”

“Amira, my child, look at yourself.” Alfred softly spoke, Amira letting him examine her face. “Lets get those cuts cleaned in the infirmary. Master Tim,” he addressed, Tim flinching when he was called. “That goes for you too. I can’t have that ghastly gash of yours infecting under my watch.”

“Yes, sir.” Tim said with a nod, going to join them when he watched the other elderly man make his way towards Deathstroke.

“To think I treated him like a son once.” Ra’s said, disappointment visible on his face. “To think I ever considered him to be my heir at one point. Never would’ve thought he would be the one to try and betray me.”

“Him?” Damian asked the question in Bruce’s mind. “He was the one who you considered worthy of succeeding you?”

“At one point, yes. But then, you came along...or rather, the two of you came along.” Ra’s said, turning slightly to see Amira’s reaction. The girl mentioned stopped in her tracks. “Two grandchildren, but only one was able to claim the throne.”

“More like only one was considered to be your heir.” Amira spoke once turning to look at Ra’s in the face. “After all, ever since you found out my mother was going to have me, you wanted me dead. Me, a mere infant.”

No one noticed the paleness in Damian’s face, the way his eyes widened upon hearing those words. 

His grandfather...wanted his sister, their own blood...dead?

“I gave your mother the opportunity to let you live.”

“You threatened her to get rid of me!” Amira yelled, remembering her mother’s retelling of Ra’s threat. 

“You, a mere infant who I could’ve easily disposed of myself. But instead, I choose to show you mercy.”

“You kept me alive to keep her in line!” 

“Be grateful, child.” Ra’s snarled, causing Amira to take a step back. “You’re the only being in the world whom I’ve shown mercy to. Because of me, you got to live and learn from your father, a skilled fighter. A great detective. If it weren’t for my generosity, you would already be de-“

“That’s enough!” Bruce sternly shouted, standing in front of Amira who’s eyes were filled with unshed tears. Alfred placed a hand on her shoulder, frowning when he found her trembling as well. “I will not allow you to speak to my daughter that way, nor anyone in my family for that matter.

You said that you came here to leave Damian in my care. To keep him safe until you found your traitor.” Bruce walked up to Ra’s, allowing Alfred to guide Amira and Tim to the infirmary. 

He motioned to the passed out Slade. “Well, now he’s taken care of, so I suggest you continue your way back to the League to ensure that it’s safe enough for Damian to go back home. After all, that was your original goal, wasn’t it?” Bruce and Ra’s stared each other down, waiting for the other to back down. 

Surprisingly, it was Ra’s who broke the contact. 

“Very well.” Ra’s huffed, looking over to Damian. “You got to see firsthand how skillful those who learn under your father are, so just imagine how much you can improve by learning under him as well. I expect you to learn everything you can during your stay. Understood?” Damian nodded. “Good.”

Without a second to spare, Ra’s disappeared into the night, Damian wondering when would be the next time they would see one another. 

—

Adrien lifted his head the minute he heard the apartment door open, hearing laughter fill the room. 

It’s been a few hours -okay it’s been seven or eight since he’s heard about any news about Marinette. Seven-ish hours of being in the dark about Marinette’s whereabouts...since then, he had been by Chloe’s side, making sure she was doing alright.  

He held back a sob, gently pulling himself away from Chloé and headed down only to not find Marinette among them. Walking into the apartment was Dick, Wally and Nino.

“Where’s Marinette?” Adrien asked, everyone’s laughter rescinding. That’s when he noticed Jason, or rather recognized him. Wasn’t he...wasn’t he...the dead Wayne?

“Freund von dir? [Friend of yours?]” Jason asked Dick, Adrien looking at Nino for clarification. He simply shrugged. 

“Nien. Favoritinnen. [No. Favorite’s.]” Dick answered back. “He’s Adrien and the one you met earlier is Nino.”

“Y el novio, cierto? [And the boyfriend, right?]” Jason asked, a grin on his face as he pointed towards Wally. Wally quirked a brow. 

“They’re not quite there yet.” 

“Seriously?”

“Yup.” 

“Gotta do something about that, don’t you think?” Jason asked, causing Dick to chuckle, confusing the others in the room. 

The shattering of a teacup was heard, everyone whipping the heads to see who dropped it. 

“Jason.” Selina whispered, slowly walking towards him, Jason hesitating to move forward. “That’s really you, isn’t it?” She placed her hand on his cheek, wiping away a stray tear on his face. 

“Yea. It’s me, Ma. It’s really me.” Jason let himself get pulled into a hug, letting Selina crush him to death...well not really, but let her hug him until she was satisfied in knowing he was still alive...and with them once again. 

Adrien’s eyes darted between Jason and Selina. Then to Dick. Then back to Jason. 

“Apparently they all know each other.” Nino spoke up, Adrien realizing he had been standing beside him for a while. “Mlle Kyle, Dick, Barbara and M.Bruce...they all know Jason. And apparently, so does Marinette.”

Adrien turned to look at Nino with wide eyes, failing to notice that Barbara had joined the reunion at that moment.  

“What?”

“Yea. Apparently they've known each other for quite some time. Heard Jason telling Dick that he had been catching up with Marinette before she went off to tell their grandfather about...him. Wonder what they meant by that.”

Nino looked at Jason, who was busy annoying a flushed faced Wally. “While their entire dynamic was odd, that wasn’t what had me confused the most.”

“So she’s not here…” Adrien told himself. “And what do you mean by ‘the most confused’?”

“You know how everyone has some type of nickname, whether it comes from a family member or friend?” Adrien nodded. “Could Marinette have another name as her nickname?”

Seeing Adrien’s confused face, Nino continued. “Marinette once told me that her friends have only ever called her two nicknames: Mimi and Baguette.

Wally and Dick call her Mimi while you call her Bugette. So then...why...why was Jason referring to Marinette by Amira when her name is Marinette?” Nino asked.

Adrien froze. 

“Nino...Are-are you sure that’s-“

“Positive.” Nino confirmed, watching as Adrien’s face morphed into a stern expression. “Dude, what-”

“Nino.” Adrien said in a low tone, causing a shiver to run down Nino’s spine. “Whatever you do, don’t tell anyone else what you just told me.”

“Dude, why-“ Adrien placed his hands on Nino’s shoulders. 

“I’m I clear? Don’t. Tell. Anyone.” Adrien enunciated, looking over at Dick ruffling Jason’s hair. “Promise me that.”

“I promise.” Nino promised, wondering what it was that Adrien had found out.

Letting Nino go, Adrien looked at the group of family and friends talking within themselves, as if forgetting about the crisis just moments ago.

Or was it more than that?

Did they trust Marinette being fine even after her kidnapping? And what about the kidnapper? Were they going to let them roam free after what they did to Marinette?

Whatever it was, Adrien knew it had to be linked with the other secrets they held...even the one he found out by complete accident...

—

It didn’t take long to get patched up. It did, however, take very long to convince Alfred and her father to let her leave the Cave, Amira having to use the excuse that she was tired to be able to retreat to her room. 

And once more, everything looked just like she had left it months ago...

She headed to the wall of photos, dragging her hands over them, until she stopped over the one she took of the Parisian night. 

It was already two in the morning in Gotham, meaning it was eight in Paris. She hoped her friends would forgive her, especially Wally. She hopes he would forgive her for scaring him like this for the second time this month. 

Which reminded her, she had yet to tell Grandpere that-

“Amira,” She quickly turned, half wondering if her grandfather could read mind, only that instead of finding Grandpere there, she saw Damian. A scowl found its way to her face.

“How dare you mock-“

“It was the only way to get your attention.” Damian cut off, joining Amira by her wall of photos. “Out of everyone here, Pennyworth is the only one who you-“

“Grandpere is Grandpere. Of course he would have my complete respect. He’s my grandfather after all.”

“Ra’s is also our grand-“ Amira’s scoff caught him off guard. 

“Ra’s is not my grandfather and in no way part of my family.” Amira felt her hands begin to shake. “What I heard from him had portrayed him in a bad light and today,” she quickly dug her nails into her arm to try and prevent herself from trembling. “Today proved those stories to be true.”

“We have his blood-“

“Blood doesn’t just make family, Damian.” Amira sternly said, looking at a new photo she hadn’t placed on her wall at all. It was taken from days ago, one where Dick was trying to engage Amira into a conversation with his other friends. Wally was there beside her, holding her hand in case it was too much for her. “And even if it did, so does trust, acknowledgement. And love.

And while I acknowledge Ra’s to be our mother’s father, our grandfather, I do not trust him. And I never will, as I will never love him either. 

After all, he never dared to acknowledge me as family, so why should I? Why should I bother to respect him when clearly, he doesn’t deserve it?”

Damian stood there, soaking in his sister’s words, because...she had a point, even if he thought it was a point that was stupidly based on emotions. “If that’s all you came to talk to me about, then I suggest you leave. I have a few things to do before I have to go elsewhere.”

“You’re leaving?” Damian asked, wondering where his sister should go at this time of day. “What about your duties as Ro-“ 

He was not expecting his sister to erupt into laughter.

“Duties? Robin?” Amira promptly shut up, weirded out by the lack of envy in herself whenever she would say the name ‘Robin’ outloud. 

“Surely it’s yours, isn’t it? You are Robin, aren’t you? After all, you are father’s-”

“Blood child.” Amira finished for him. “Sorry to say, but that alone doesn’t give you the right to the mantle.”

“Are you saying someone else is the current Robin?” Damian seethed. “Someone who isn’t Father’s blood child is the one by his side, as his successor?”

“Not successor Damian. Partner...and possible candidate towards taking over Bat-”

“Then why haven’t you taken it back Amira? Why aren’t you claiming your birth-”

“Because it is earned Damian.” Amira sternly growled. “Robin isn’t just a mantle, it's a symbol. A symbol of fear...and hope. Robin is a collection of knowledge, passed from one Robin to the next. That knowledge is passed down, refined and added to as it gets handed down.” Damian watched as Amira walked away from her wall of photos. “But what thinks you’re worthy of being handed Robin?”

“I am the better option. I’ve been trained by the League for years, mastered-”

“Mastered being a bloodthirsty and uncooperative person.” Amira finished off. “And that’s based on one fight that took longer than it should have.”

“You were getting in my way.”

“And that’s exactly why you can’t be handed Robin and why you’ll never be Batman.”

“Are you-”

“I’m only telling you the truth. Robin has to be well rounded and excel in combat. They need to know when to stay on the sidelines. They must know when to call the shots.”

“You just contradicted yourself.”

“Did I?” Amira smirked, heading for the door. “Or did you misinterpret my words?” She opened the door, wondering if she would find Grandpere in the kitchen now that she and Tim were fully mended from their injuries. “Until you understand what that means, you will never know what it means to be Robin.”

With those words, Amira left Damian behind, heading out to accomplish the mission she had before the whole fiasco with Deathstroke.

—

Finding and telling Grandpere the news wasn’t the hard part, Amira finding him in the kitchen preparing some much needed early morning snacks. However, she wasn’t prepared for the tears that came afterwards from her usually calm grandfather upon hearing the good news.

After a much needed crying session, Alfred packed some food for Amira to give to Jason, assurring her that she would tell Bruce about Jason’s return at a more appropriate time.

With that done, she headed towards the zeta tube, having finished plugging in her coordinates when she sensed Tim.

“You’re leaving.” He simply stated, looking at her bandaged hands and bandage on her face.

“Yeah.” 

“Shouldn’t you-”

“I need to go back…” Amira easily answered. “And...thank you.”

“Huh?”

“Thank you for saving me back there...I had forgotten that Gotham doesn’t operate like Paris...with the whole no magic and meta business.” Amira confessed. “Also, if you hadn’t done what you did...I could’ve been dead.”

“B-but Bruce said-”

She showed him her bare ears, a single piercing causing Tim to pale.

He had seen Ladybird’s fights, he had seen Amira take punches to the gut without a single drop of blood seeping from her mouth. He had seen her get thrown into a stone pillar and get up without a single sign of pain. She would always get up no matter how many times she was thrown down. She was indestructible...until today…

Today, she actually feared death, something that wouldn’t have crossed her mind despite her upbringing in Gotham. “You... you could have died today, couldn’t you?”

“And that’s why I thanked you, Tim.” Amira ruffled his hair, Tim not knowing how to react to her gesture. “I was wrong about you in so many ways... to think it took me this long to realize it.”

“What exactly do you mean by that?” Tim pried, getting the following as a response.

“Keep up the good work, Robin.”

Tim found himself sending those words to Dick as well as telling him that Amira was on her way back.

—

“Recognized: Ladybird B13.” An automated female voice said out loud, Amira finding herself not irritated by it unlike the previous times. 

Then again, her previous code wasn’t Ladybird but rather MDC. 

It was nice to have a code that actually belonged to her... or at least used to. 

“I’m back.” She told herself as she exited out the telephone booth, not expecting to be pulled into an embrace, feeling her eyes watering when the scent of cat hit her senses. 

“Thank god you’re safe, Amira.” Selina barely whispered, tightening her embrace. “You’re safe.”

What started with a hic soon erupted into muffled cries, Amira burying her face into Selina’s coat, only then realizing the emotions she had been holding in over the course of several hours. She tightened her hug back, her cries growing louder as she let it all out.

Talía watched as Amira and Selina reunited by the old telephone booth, letting a smile appear on her lips despite her aching heart.

“You’ve grown so much Amira. Take care and stay safe and know that I will always hold you close to my heart. Goodbye, baobei.”

NEXT

#maribat #amira wayne

[mandos-lightningbeforethunder]

Start Again - Chapter Four (Din Djarin x Reader)

SUMMARY: Arriving on Nevarro, you and the Mandalorian deal with the consequences of the Empire and hope to find out information from New Republic files. 

CHAPTER WARNINGS: panic attacks and discussion of nightmares and child loss

Author’s Note: This chapter is about 2.4k words, just a bit shorter than the previous chapter. Feel free to reblog and like :)

CHAPTER FOUR - THE TRUTH

After sharing your latest nightmare, the rest of the trip is quiet. It’s a comfortable silence as you click through the datapad, starting a batch of notes for your dreams. You log the longest nightmare you can remember. You can still feel the hum of the lightsaber before the memory cuts off. Anything past the ignition of the saber and it’s blank. You were frustrated but at the same time, it was the most progress you had made.

“Exiting jump,” the Mandalorian says, pulling a lever down on the control column. You click off the datapad as the ship lurches into the home system of Nevarro. A brief talk with the Nevarro tower and the Idrionna breaches the planet’s atmosphere.

Idrionna touches down on the surface, the engines humming as they power down. You follow Mando’s lead as he steps down to the cargo hold, pulling open a door to grab a few blasters.

“I thought you said this planet was friendly,” you say. He chuckles, strapping the blasters in his holsters.

“It is. My friend Cara is the Marshal here, but you can never be too careful.” He replies, pressing the hatch release.

Cara, you presume, is already there waiting for you as the hatch fully opens and locks in place. The glint of her Marshal badge catches your eye as you and Mando walk towards her. Her serious face remains grim even as you approach.

“Surprised you’d come here, Mando,” she greets, “I’m sure Kryze would look here first for you.”

“I’m aware of the dangers. I need your help with something,” he says. The silence that follows is deafening.

Her eyes fall on you, raking over you as she takes in what she can see physically. It’s almost uncomfortable. In turn, you look over her, examining the tattoo on her arm and the one just under her eye. A survivor of Alderaan.

“She like the kid?” She finally asks, her eyes returning to Mando. You relent in your study of her, choosing to focus on the dirt beneath your feet.

“No,” Din replies. “Says she has a son out there like him though.”

You can’t help but notice that Mando and the people he knows keep mentioning a child. You’re unsure of who exactly they’re talking about, but maybe like the saber, it’s a story for another time. There’s an air about Mando and thinking back on when you had first encountered him, his body language had changed at the mention of Castin. Had he also lost someone?

“You’re a detective now? What, bounty work get too difficult for you?” Cara says. Her tone comes off teasing, but the way Mando shifts his weight, he seems irritated.

“The Jedi that took Grogu with him…there were more like him. But they weren’t as nice.” Mando supplies. Cara’s face changes, her serious expression dropping.

“I have these nightmares. I’ve been told and I’m convinced that they’re moments in my life stolen from me, from the people who took my son from me. I employed this Mandalorian because I knew he could help me get the answers I’m searching for. All I ask is that you help him do his job so I can finally be at peace.” You were frustrated by her lack of compassion and you felt helpless watching her and the Mandalorian go back and forth.

She doesn’t meet your eyes this time, instead looking at Mando, who nods. Her jaws ticks and she sighs, the tension in her body releasing.

“Cara Dune, Marshal for Nevarro.” She introduces herself, extending her hand out. You take it, tentative before she shakes, her grip firm. You wait for her to turn away before you wring out your hand, trying to mask the pain. Something like a laugh comes from Mando and you glower at him.

He seems to notice your expression because he clears his throat, the sound breaking through the vocoder. Cara focuses her attention on the building in front of you and with the jerk of her head, she signals you two to follow her.

“Don’t think I forgot the last time you asked me to run someone through our system. Now I have a psychotic bitch and her posse hunting me down all because I’m your ally. The only thing protecting me is the New Republic.” She grumbles, trekking to her office.

You look to Mando but this time he’s not focusing on you and doesn’t catch your gaze. This was the part in the job where no questions were asked and yet your curiosity was still eating away at your mind. There was more to the Mandalorian than what you already knew, but you would save that conversation for another time.  

Glancing around her office, you watch Cara round her desk and sit in the chair. The computer terminal in front of her groans to life as she powers it on.

“I need a name, something to run through the system to see if you haven’t been completely wiped out.” Cara looks between you both, her finger hovering over the keys as she waits.

Wiped out? Was that even possible? Your heart raced at the prospect of everything about you being erased. First, your memories, now possibly all records of your existence. Why hadn’t they just killed you? Maybe that was their goal and they hadn’t completed it. Valara had said you arrived in her village bloody and incoherent, near death. Maybe it was the luck that saved you after all, bringing you back. You cursed the people that left you in this current state, wondering why they didn’t complete possibly the easiest task and kill you for good. Instead, they steal your son and your life away from you and now you’re left to pick up the shattered pieces of your mind.

The Mandalorian calls your name and you break away from your thoughts. Tears sting at the corner of your eyes and the room around you almost blurs. You take a deep breath and swallow down the harsh lump growing in your throat.

You give Cara your name and you try to sound out the clicks of her typing your name into her system. There had to be something, anything that gave you a clue about who you were. Something that offered more than what you already knew about yourself. Cara’s expression is not promising as she frowns, pressing through until the sound of a dead-end in the listed files stops her.

“There’s nothing.” Her face and tone say it all. She’s surprised. You’re nonexistent within the system that houses the files of millions within the galaxy. You’re nothing more than a ghost.

“Castin,” you manage to get out. “Castin is my son’s name. There has to be something.”

Cara looks at the Mandalorian, waiting for his confirmation. The tears burn again and your face grows hot from the embarrassment. A sigh and the keys click again. Mustering up your courage, you face her again as the computer scans the name and searches through the available files. Once again, the sound of a dead-end in the list of files fills your ears.

You can’t help but sob. There’s nothing on you. Nothing about your son. You both are ghosts within the galaxy. Not even a record of Castin’s birth. The Empire had wiped everything they thought would be traceable. Not even a mention of his father, if he was even alive at all. You didn’t even know what to expect, perhaps you had hoped too much and thought the sources would be endless. You’re left with nothing and your heart breaks at the thought.

Pushing through the doorway, ignoring the calls of your name of both Cara and the Mandalorian, you only make it a few feet before you fall on your knees. You don’t know how you can muster enough energy to scream, but you do. It pierces the silent air around you and echoes throughout the valley. Now, all of Nevarro knows of your pain. You hoped the rest of the universe heard your pain. A part of you wished that the people who did this to you also heard.

Your throat burns as you sob into the cloak around your shoulders. Breath hitching as you hear boots approaching, you turn your body towards the sound.

“I thought there would be something,” you say, your throat raw. “Anything. To give me hope that my son is still out there.”

“You couldn’t have known that the Empire would clear any trace of your existence.” The Mandalorian reassures.

“I should’ve,” you weep. “They tortured me! I was nearly dead and to think I was a survivor. Why didn’t they just kill me.”

There’s silence from the Mandalorian. Sitting there in the sand, you think there’s no longer a reason for him to stay. Your son was only an existing memory. According to the New Republic, he hadn’t even existed at all. Not even as someone lost in the fight against the Empire.

“Look,” he finally says. Your sobs are mere whimpers now. “You asked me to find your son. And I will. Just because there’s no record of his existence doesn’t mean he’s still not out there. You’re here, right now and there’s no record of you.”

“It would’ve been easier,” you spit out, “I could’ve at least seen what they had on me before my mind became nothing but mush.”

There’s a heavy silence that follows as you try and gather yourself. Using the poncho to wipe your tears away, you take deep breaths. Getting angry at the one person who agreed to help you was not going to make your situation any better.

“I’m sorry.”

“I know,” is all he says. “I lost someone too. Not to the Empire, but I understand your pain.”

“Is that the child everyone keeps bringing up?” You ask and you think you hear a chuckle break through the vocoder.

“Yes,” he breathes. In the corner of your eye, you see him kneel beside you. “You mind?”

You shake your head and watch as the warrior sits on the ground with you, joining you as you stare into the empty valley before you.

“His name was Grogu. I picked him up, as a bounty. I was supposed to bring him in, but I saw what they were planning to do with him and I didn’t understand why they would need to do it to a child.” He starts, “Turns out, just about everyone in the galaxy wanted to turn him in too. The Empire had a high price on his head and in the Outer Rim, credits mattered more than morals.”

“What was so special about him?”

“He was like your son. He had these abilities; I didn’t understand them at first. But he used them to save me and my friends. To protect us. When I finally met someone like him, she told me that he was Force-sensitive. He needed training, but she refused to train him because of his attachment to me.”

“You were his father?” You ask and his helmet dips in a nod. “I’m sorry.”

“It was when he was taken from me by Imperials that I realized how much he meant to me. They wanted him, just for a vile of blood. I didn’t care what they did with it, to be honest. I just wanted him safe. We were trapped in the Imps flight deck, the only thing between us and the Dark Troopers was a doorway. Then, this Jedi came along and wiped out the entire platoon of them.”

There’s a silence that follows his last statement. It’s comfortable, you both sit there as the valley remains quiet save for a few whispers of the wind. You dwell on the thought that this Mandalorian, a warrior, bounty hunter, feared throughout the galaxy, was also a father to a child. A parent that just wanted to keep his son safe.

“Mandalorians have a Creed. My Tribe followed the way of what others call Children of the Watch. Removing our helmets in front of another living being is forbidden. If I did, I would no longer be considered a true Mandalorian. But I did, for him. It was selfish of me, but I didn’t want him to remember me for my armor. He deserved better than that.”

Reaching out, you placed a tentative hand on his knee. He remains quiet but relaxes underneath your hand. It’s a reassuring touch, that reminds him that you understand his pain. You’re here for him. He seems to understand the meaning behind the touch.

“You did what you thought was right,” you tell him, offering a kind smile even behind the blotchy look on your face. “That’s all that matters.”

“Yes,” he breathes. “It was my job to get him to his kind. The job is complete. Now it’s my job to help you find your son.”

“There’s nothing on us, no record.” You scoff, shaking your head and removing your hand. “I’m better off returning to Puvo so that I can continue my sessions with Valara’s grandmother. Maybe then the nightmares will stop and I can move on.” The lump in your throat grows again and you can feel the burn of more tears.

“You asked me to help you, so I will,” Mando says, his tone firm. “Having zero records on you or your son is just a bump in the road. I’m sure there’s information out there. You just need to trust me.”

With a sniffle, you nod. You can feel his gaze on you, so you turn and your eyes meet his visor. You’re not sure if he’s actually making eye contact underneath his helmet, but all that matters to you is that he’s promising to stay.

“I’m going to assume that there’s no record of Castin’s father?” You ask. The lack of memories about his father was disheartening.

“I’ll ask Cara to keep looking, but I’m not going to promise you that she’ll find anything. We had your name and your son’s name, but with no name or description, it will be a difficult process.” The Mandalorian sighs. You nod, looking back at the horizon of Nevarro.

For the first time, in a long time, you felt a semblance of peace. Even after the valley had heard your screams, you knew deep down that this is what you expected. The Empire would’ve been fools had they forgotten to wipe out the record of you. At least you had answers. At least you had the Mandalorian to help you now. That’s all you needed.

Read Chapter Five - The Sith here!

#din djarin x reader #din dijarin fanfiction #din djarin #din djarin x you #din djarin/reader #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian x you #the mandalorian/reader #start again #cara dune

[stark-tony]

tododeku fic recs

* = incomplete

meet you again someday (after we take the long way ’round) by theroyalsavage

summary: Midoriya Izuku's life is saved by a boy with the strongest Quirk he has ever seen. 

Eventually - inevitably - he falls in love.(An AU in which Todoroki never attends UA, they never clash at the sports festival, but they come together all the same.)

pairings: tododeku

tags: hurt/comfort

warnings: none

that is just the way by celestialfics

summary:  Shouto has his first sleepover.

pairings: tododeku

tags: fluff

warnings: none

what is right and what is easy by theroyalsavage

summary: Midoriya Izuku is not chosen to represent Hogwarts in the Triwizard Tournament. He does not slay a dragon, or rescue innocents, or brave a maze of dark magic. He does not win accolades, or fame, or glory.

Instead, Izuku meets the son of the greatest dark wizard of the age, a Durmstrang student with hair like a sunrise and eyes like a war. And maybe, he just might win something else.

pairings: tododeku, kiribaku, tsuchako

tags: fluff, angst

warnings: none

First Time For Everything by kazzarole

summary: Midoriya is the catalyst of many of the 'firsts' in Shouto's life--it just makes sense that Shouto should share his first kiss with him, too.

pairings: tododeku

tags: fluff

warnings: none

alone together by celestialfics

summary:  Five times when other Class 1-A kids notice Todoroki and Midoriya in their own world.

pairings: tododeku

tags: fluff

warnings: none

A Simple Warmth by patster223

summary: “I’m trying to make Todoroki a sweater for his birthday, but…” Izuku pokes at the tangle of yarn. “It’s more complicated than I thought it would be.”

In which Izuku sucks at knitting, his classmates are eager to help out, Todoroki finally gets to be cozy, and knitting is a vector for romance.

pairings: tododeku

tags: 

warnings: none

Conventional Taste by WowBoring

summary: He didn’t think it would matter if Midoriya were taking him to a sewer convention; it was probably still going to be the highlight of his Golden Week.

In order to avoid a visit from his unpleasant grandparents Todoroki attends a hero convention with Midoriya, and learns a few things along the way.

pairings: tododeku

tags: fluff

warnings: abuse

pls respond by Esselle

summary: 'Midoriya: UR SO CUTE

Shouto chokes on nothing. How is he supposed to respond to that? Is he supposed to respond at all?

Midoriya: Look at your big head aaaaaaaaaaaaah Midoriya: *Image Attached*

Oh, Shouto thinks. He was talking about Shouto's Nitotan, which is now smashed to one of Izuku's cheeks in the image Izuku just sent, as Izuku squeezes it joyfully. Even if Izuku wasn't talking to him directly, the butterflies in Shouto's stomach feel a bit joyful, too.

He types out: I wish I were that Nitotan right now. Then he snorts, and erases it.'

--

Izuku has a wide variety of special moves, but his Key Smash might be the most powerful of all.

pairings: tododeku

tags: fluff, humor

warnings: none

i can keep a secret, could you? by handcrusher (ameliafromafairytale)

summary: The last thing Todoroki wants is for his father to figure out that 1) he's gay and 2) he's dating the boy he's supposed to overcome as a hero. So, he and Midoriya devise a plan.

Just how long can they keep it up?

pairings: tododeku, tsuchako, momojirou

tags: 

warnings: 

hold on tight by lunalou

summary: "What are you doing?" Shouto asks.

"Hugging you." Midoriya returns in a patient voice. His arms tighten around Shouto's waist and he presses his forehead more firmly against his back. "You know it's a hug, Shouto-kun. Don't play dumb."

or, five times somebody from 1-a hugs todoroki and the one time he hugs them first

pairings: tododeku

tags: 

warnings: 

If I'm Being Honest.... by I_dont_know_man

summary: Midoriya scrunched up his nose in confusion. “Uh, Shouto, why are you glaring at me like that?”

“I-” Todoroki began to lie, until nausea slammed him like a door to any room that Bakugou entered. “I--” Todoroki grit his teeth, and glared daggers into the wall behind Midoriya. Goodbye, friendship. It had been absolutely divine while it lasted. “Because you’re very attractive.”

They say honesty is the best policy, but it sure as hell had a knack for Todoroki making a complete and utter fool of himself. 

  In which Todoroki is placed under a mysterious truth-telling quirk and suffers, Uraraka laughs at him, Midoriya is confused but smitten nonetheless, and Twitter is the thirstiest site on the planet.

pairings: tododeku, kiribaku

tags: humor, fluff

warnings: 

Guiding Light by furihatachlookie

summary:  It was his mother's idea to enroll him at the local elementary school. His father believed a private tutor was better, but nobody can argue with a mother who's made up her mind, and a balanced exposure to kids his own age sways his father's judgement enough to agree and sign the papers.

pairings: tododeku

tags: fluff, angst

warnings: 

Todoroki and Yaoyorozu's Elite Study Club by hanwritesstuff (hannahkannao)

summary: “Well, as I see it, we have two options.” Shouto holds up two fingers. “We can either ignore this and pretend it never happened or... not.” He doesn't know which one he wants. “What does not entail, exactly?” Yaoyorozu asks. “...I don't know.”

In which Todoroki accidentally learns something about Yaoyorozu, Yaoyorozu accidentally learns something about Todoroki, and they spend a considerable portion of their study sessions... not studying.s

pairings: tododeku, momojirou

tags: fluff, humor

warnings:

Do What You Will, If That's What You Want by stanzas

summary: “What do you mean you’re retiring?” Bakugou asks nicely, or at least as nicely as someone like Bakugou can ask. The question is phrased more like a demand.“

Call it a mid-life crisis,” Shouto answers, like Bakugou asked him what the weather would be tomorrow, and takes a deep sip from his coffee. “I’m thinking of changing careers.”

The world of heroes is quick to adapt to surprises, but Pro Hero Entropy’s (very premature) retirement announcement throws almost everyone for a pretty impressive loop.

pairings: tododeku

tags: hurt/comfort, angst, humor

warnings:

extra, extra! by rythyme (pugglemuggle)

summary: Shouto & Creati: ACTUALLY Dating?! by Hitachi Hitomi at September 18, 2047 3:42 pm."Ever since heartthrob 

Todoroki Shouto and the Everything Hero "Creati" made their official debuts, the two 22-year-old heroes have been nothing but professional towards each other. But was this all a sham to cover up the truth?" 

Or: The media thinks Shouto and Creati are dating. Hint: they aren't. A multimedia TodoDeku & MomoJirou fanfic told through news articles, gossip columns, twitter, tumblr, text messages, and more.

pairings: tododeku, momojirou

tags: fluff, humor

warnings:

you broke the dark and my whole earth shook by aloneintherain

summary:  Shouto had imagined himself as the country’s top hero for decades. Endeavour had put those images in his head when he was a child, and they had stayed there, growing like a fungus, until Shouto had reached adulthood. Even now, he was only just beginning to realise he didn’t have to live his life according to almost thirty-year-old decisions made by his abuser. He could do more. Be more. Outside of the hero community.

Izuku gets a job offer in America. Somehow, this brings Shouto and Izuku closer than ever before.

pairings: tododeku

tags: fluff, hurt/comfort

warnings:

count your blessings, not your flaws by PitViperOfDoom

summary:  Midoriya Izuku has never been asked out, confessed to, or flirted with, except as a joke.

pairings: tododeku

tags: angst, hurt/comfort

warnings: bullying

call the fire department (i'm burning up with love) by Edgedancer

summary:  An (abridged) list of things Todoroki Shouto did not have before U.A.: Loud neighbors. Fire alarms. Friends. Midoriya Izuku.

pairings: tododeku

tags:

warnings:

long nights and daydreams by dreamtowns

summary: According to the public, Pro Heroes Deku and Entropy are an amazing Hero Duo, best friends, and the most eligible bachelors in the world. According to their fans, they’re head over heels in love with one another yet oblivious to the others’ feelings. According to their friends and family, they’ve been in love with one another since high school, but, for reasons unknown to them, refuse to act upon said feelings.

According to said heroes, they have been (secretly) married for six years.

pairings: tododeku

tags: fluff, hurt/comfort

warnings: 

extra-salty/twitter-verse series by SportsAnimeRuinedMyLife (KnightOfRage)

summary:  In his third year at UA, Todoroki Shouto works in a burger place, catches on fire and falls in love. Only two of those things are on purpose.

Or...Todoroki Shouto's exciting adventures in customer service.

part one of the extra salty/twitter-verse

pairings: tododeku, kiribaku

tags: fluff, humor

warnings: none

More Than Skin-Deep by Emmeri

summary: It was a fact, really. That he was ugly. Having a scar which takes up half his face kind of does that, in Todoroki's eyes. So why does he overhear the girls call him the class pretty boy?

He'll just have to ask Midoriya about it; he has too little filter to tell anything but the truth.

pairings: tododeku

tags: fluff, angst

warnings: 

Your Biggest Fan by Latios

summary: He opens the bag on the floor to see what could have been left in there-- and promptly freezes, staring at the contents inside.

“Midoriya.” He calls.

“Hm?”

“You bought our hero merch?”

~

Aka, Class 1-A starts to see themselves appear on merchandise in their local stores. Todoroki tries not to buy things, and fails.

pairings: tododeku

tags: fluff, humor

warnings: 

Marry The Mole by Haurvatat

summary: “You're going to break up with him before he can propose.”

The hands went down and the steel wall of Midoriya's entire being went up. “...Excuse me?”

“And in return-” Enji gritted his teeth, “-I will deposit 20 million yen in your checking account.”

-

The gay drama fic based on a tumblr post absolutely zero people wanted to see but YOU'RE GETTING ANYWAY

pairings: tododeku

tags: humor

warnings: 

ascended fanboy by aloneintherain

summary: “I want to honour them,” Izuku said softly. “When I cosplay, I just want people to see how amazing these heroes are.”

Shouto brushed a thumb over his cheek, careful not to smudge his makeup. “They do. I promise.”

Or: Izuku and Shouto attend HeroCon, five years post-graduation.

pairings: tododeku

tags: 

warnings: 

#bnha recs #my fic recs #abuse tw #bullying tw

[alicanta77]

Chapter 1: Royal Blooded

Pairing: princess!y/n x prince!Chenle

Themes: royalty au, fluff, angst

Warnings: arranged marriage, violence

Words: 7.1k

Inspiration: BTS - Blood, Sweat and Tears - orchestral cover 

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5 - Finale

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Royalty doesn't equal happily ever after

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You held your head high as you walked towards the throne room. You had your main servant walking behind you and two guards escorting you on either side. Your shoes made small tapping noises on the stone floor with every step you took and your clothes and hair gently flowed in time to the movement. You approached the grand door, nodding at the two knights guarding the entrance, who bowed back before moving their spears and opening the grand door for you.

The throne room appeared before you in all its glory. The metal chandelier hung from the ceiling, dangling above the engraved stone floors that were currently stood on by the entire court. The court and knights of your kingdom were all in neat rows on the left of the building, framed by the sculpted columns that ran up the walls. On the right side was another court entirely, clearly very rich and clearly not close to your kingdom. Their cloaks and shield bared an emblem which you had never seen before.

You had under a second to take in the sight in front of you before you had to move forwards. As you moved forwards you kept your eyes on your father’s, never breaking contact so that you didn't show weakness. You knew what this meeting was about, and you weren't particularly pleased. You had always known that this day would come, you had just hoped that you would have at least a few more years of freedom.

You reached the front of the room and paused in front of your father and mother’s golden thrones. Your servant and guards moved to join the lines of your court whilst you bowed your head in respect and stood, patiently waiting for your father to speak first.

He stood, your mother following, and spoke, addressing you by name but speaking clearly so that everyone who was present could hear his words.

‘Y/n, our only child and sole heir to the throne, the day has finally come where you will take the first monumental step for your kingdom.’

‘Father, I give you my solemn word I will uphold the oath I took when I was crowned heir and do whatever I can for my kingdom and my people.’ You replied, keeping your voice steady and clear so that it could be heard by the whole court.

‘Today will mark the start of our journey into a new age. Today we will create an unbreakable alliance with a kingdom whose wealth and power rivals our own and, this alliance, will start a new time, a time of peace and prosperity for the both of us.’ Your father continued, straightening up in order to face the court. He gestured for a man and woman from the new court to stand with him. The crowns on their heads and extremely elaborate clothing gave away to you that they must be the king and queen.

‘We have with us, the royal family and court from the Zhong kingdom of Shanghai, China. Over the past few months we have been in negotiations, trying to find a common ground between us to use as the foundation for this new peaceful age. Eventually we settled on the most solid of alliances, one that will bind our nations for all generations to come.’

Your father turned around and raised his arms to the members of both courts in the throne room.

‘A marriage!’

The room erupted into cheers as you were led up the few stone stairs and stood in-between and slightly in front of your parents. You turned your head to your left and saw a young boy, around your age, standing in the same position as you.

This must be who you were marrying. He looked out at his people with a calm look on his face, you couldn't tell if it was just a facade or if he really didn't care that he would be marrying you. You honestly couldn't tell which one you wanted it to be.

You turned your head back towards the two courts, missing the way he turned to you in order to look at, and study, your features. 

King Zhong then stood forward to continue informing the court of how the marriage would play out.

‘Since the Zhong kingdom has four sons, of which Prince Chenle is the youngest, it has been agreed that he will stay here, protect and, when the time comes, govern this kingdom with the royal family already ruling. Due to the young ages of both our heirs, we have also decided that there is no rush for this wedding to take place. The agreement of it is enough for us to guarantee peace and, when it does happen, it will be a celebration that will echo through both kingdoms.’ 

He turned to face you before looking back towards his son.

‘Your wedding will create an age of peace that will allow both our kingdoms to live without fear for generations to come. It will all trace back to the two of you.’

He and your father moved together before your mother moved to your other side. You managed to sneak a very quick look to your left and noticed Chenle’s mother doing the same. You realised that you were standing in a line: your mother, you, your father, King Zhong, Prince Chenle, Queen Zhong. You felt your parents both grab your hand and hold them up in the air as the court burst into another round of applause.

It was a symbol of unity.

---

Soon you were back in your chambers, thankfully, alone. If you had to stay and make conversation with your future husband and his family, you were sure that your brain would explode. You knew you were going to have to converse with them at the celebratory feast that the castle was preparing for tonight, but, until then, you were going to savour your rare moments alone. You had even sent away your servant and asked them to ensure that you weren't distracted for the next few hours.

However, that hopeful plan was short lived when your mother drifted into your room, your servant sending you an apologetic look from where they were standing behind her, powerless to protect your privacy.

‘Mother, what a lovely surprise!’ You politely said, standing up from where you were previously lying on your bed.

‘Y/n! You cannot lock yourself away in your bedroom every time you wish to avoid talking to people. I shouldn't have to remind you that you are a royal and that this is not how we conduct ourselves. You should have stayed and made polite conversation with either the King or Queen, or the Prince, Chenle. You will marry him, you know?’ Your mother scolded you gently.

Your parents had always been incredibly gentle and loving with you, only strict when it came to representing the kingdom and upholding the royal conduct. This made you incredibly grateful for them as they always made an effort to understand how you were feeling as a teenager, not just as a royal.

You sighed and looked down at the stone floor.

‘I know Mother, and I apologise for hiding away, I’m just a bit taken aback at this situation. If I may speak honestly, I have always known that I would marry someone for the sake of the kingdom, and that they would likely be someone I didn't know well. So that is not the part that has unsettled me a bit, I just- I thought I would have more time, Mother. I feel as though I am still young, yet I have the responsibility of a marriage, and not just any marriage but such an important one. The fate of our kingdoms is relying on the success of this union and it is difficult to process the magnitude of that importance. It is not an easy burden to carry.’

Your mother approached you, a sympathetic look on her face. She placed a delicate hand on your shoulder and gently guided you so that you were both sat down on your bed.

‘I know that this kind of marriage, an arranged marriage, is scary. And it is not a sign of any type of cowardice to be nervous about it. I was so terrified the first time I met your father, my knees were shaking underneath my dress and I could barely stand up, let alone walk. We got married very young too. As did the Zhongs. All of us have had arranged marriages, to someone we didn't know, while we were still very young, just like you and Chenle. So we do understand what that is like, and that is why we all refused to have the wedding while you are still so young. We wanted our children to get the chance to know each other before getting married. The chance that we never had. I gather that the pressure of this marriage is heavier than anything I will understand, due to what is riding on it, but you must trust yourself to do what is right. You are a smart child, y/n, and I have every faith that you and Chenle will build a beautiful kingdom.’

You turned your head towards her and smiled, as she continued talking, a small twinkle appearing in her eyes.

‘I have spent the last few moments speaking to Chenle, and I think you'll find that he is more than what you are letting yourself believe. Don’t forget that he is in the same position as you, only he has to go through it all in a strange kingdom, surrounded by people he doesn’t know. His family leaves tomorrow morning, and he will be left here, alone. He is probably more nervous than you are.’

Her words silenced you. You hadn't really thought about the fact that Chenle was leaving everything behind to be here. He really was making a much bigger sacrifice than you had given him credit for. Your mother stood to leave, briefly saying one last thing over her shoulder.

‘The Zhongs have gone back to their chambers now. The King and Queen are in the Royal chambers in the West Wing, and Chenle is accompanying the guest chambers there too. The feast will begin tonight in the great hall, I will see you there.’

And with that, she left, the large wooden doors closing quietly behind her. You stood up from your bed and walked towards the closed door. You thought for a second before you opened it and walked out, fully intent on finding Chenle and starting to get to know him.

You could see your mother walking down the corridor in the direction of her room, and you turned away from her and began your own journey to the West Wing of the castle.

---

After a few quiet minutes of walking, you finally reached the West Wing. You intended to head straight up to Chenle’s room but as you reached the doors, you hesitated, your hand poised to knock.

What if he didn't want to see you?

What if you had offended him by not staying to speak to him and his family earlier?

What if he wanted to spend the day with his family before they left?

With these thoughts and others swirling around your head, you couldn't bring yourself to knock. You would be too embarrassed if you walked in on his final night with his family.

You lowered your hand and turned to leave, instead deciding to talk to him at the feast. You had only walked a few steps away from the door when you heard a piano being played.

You didn't know of anyone in the castle who could play the piano that beautifully or had the time to play at their own leisure, so you followed the sound.

You soon found yourself standing in front of the room you knew to be the hall of the west wing. This was often used as the spare great hall, it wasn't quite the size of the one you would be feasting in tonight, but wasn't, by any means, small.

You pushed open the door slightly, wincing to yourself as it creaked obnoxiously loudly. The playing stopped abruptly and, after a second of silence, a voice called out:

‘Hello?’

You didn't recognise the voice so you opened the door further and moved into the room. There you stood, face to face with Chenle, the boy you would marry.

Although you had hoped to find and speak to him, now that you were stood in front of him, your mouth couldn't seem to form any words. Eventually you forced yourself to just say something, rather than stand there awkwardly while he looked at you politely. 

‘I’m sorry, I didn't mean to bother you. I didn't even know it was you, I had just wondered who had been playing so beautifully.’ You muttered out, embarrassed at the nervous mess you had become. With all your years of learning how to present yourself in the public eye, it shouldn't be this hard for you to hold a conversation.

Chenle smiled slightly at your compliment.

‘Oh... thank you, your highness. Do you know how to play?’ He asked, looking you directly in the eyes.

‘Ummm, no. I wish I did though.’ You answered, moving slightly closer to the piano he was sitting at.

‘How come you never learnt?’ He asked, turning around in his seat so that he could face you.

You smiled sadly and shrugged slightly. ‘My father thought that learning an instrument would be a waste of my time. He thought my efforts were better focused on other things.’

‘What other kinds of skills?’ Chenle asked, tilting his head slightly, his eyes wide open and fixed on you. The innocent look on his face made a small smile break out across your features.

‘Skills such as languages and public speaking. He wanted to make me the best royal I could be, and I enjoyed those lessons. I love speaking many languages, but I do wish I could play like you could.’ You replied honestly.

Chenle opened his mouth to speak again but the loud creaking of the door opening drew both your eyes to the growing gap in the doorway. Soon your servant’s head popped around, their entire body entering the room once they saw you there.

‘I apologise for interrupting, your highness, but the feast is fast approaching and it is time for you to get ready.’ Your servant said, their eyes flickering between you and Chenle, clearly nervous that they had interrupted something important.

You turned to Chenle and gave an apologetic smile.

‘It seems I must go prepare, but I will see you at the feast?’

Chenle stood up, a gentle smile on his face as he approached you. He took your right hand in his and brought it to his lips.

‘I look forward to it.’ He placed a gentle kiss on the back of your hand before you turned around and exited the room.

Maybe this marriage wouldn't be so bad.

---

You raised your silver goblet to your lips, a laugh escaping you as you conversed with a knight from Chenle’s kingdom. The feast was in full swing and the great hall was filled with laughing royals and knights alike. The festivities continued all throughout the lower town and outlying villages as well, with processions and food being sent there for their own feasts.

The knights and royals were sat in an open circle around the walls of the great hall. Both your family and the Zhong's were sat at the head of the table, your fathers in the middle, then your mothers then, finally, on the end were you and Chenle. He was close enough that you could exchange the odd smile, but not close enough for you to make any kind of conversation with him.

The servants bustled all around you, filling up glasses and offering pieces of food in between courses. The court jesters often appeared in the middle of the tables and dazzled the crowd with their magic tricks and acrobatics. The final acrobat had just finished their performance with a double flip, making you all gasp in amazement. The entire room burst into applause, laughter and exclamations of praise for the talent showcased.

Your father then stood up, raising his left hand up as a way of asking for silence. He held his goblet of wine in his right and began to speak.

‘As all of you are aware, we are here today to celebrate the arrival of our new friends, King and Queen Zhong and their son Prince Chenle, and the hopeful future that they bring with them. We hope that your stay, however short-’ He gestured to Chenle with his raised glass as he continued to say ‘or long, is as pleasant as it can be. To a new era!’

Everyone in the room, including you grabbed and raised their goblets.

‘To a new era!’ You all exclaimed in unison.

As your father sat down, King Zhong rose from his seat.

‘If I may say something as well?’ He asked your father, who simply nodded in response with a large smile on his face.

‘I would like to thank you for hosting us for our short stay and for offering a new home for our son. We understand that it is against the normal customs for the Prince to move to a new land, but your open mindedness about this situation has made this process a lot easier than we anticipated it would be. I have every faith that Chenle and Y/n will one day rule a beautiful kingdom, and I cannot wait to see that happen. To the future!’

‘To the future!’ You all chanted again, raising your glasses to the sky once more.

King Zhong’s words reminded you slightly of the conversation that you had had with your mother only a few hours ago and you found yourself growing to like the Zhong’s and their people with every passing minute. The knights that surrounded you were filled with interesting and hilarious stories and the other nobles that you had chatted with before sitting down were just as likeable.

You supposed that if Chenle was anything like his people, it would be relatively easy to get along with him. 

Time and courses passed and, before you knew it, the servants were clearing away for the final time. Your father placed a hand on your shoulder and sent you a reassuring smile, one which you returned, as the servants led you into another hall, one that had been specifically set up for dancing.

The orchestra began a gentle tune and soon men and women began to pair off and dance together. Ladies and Knights dancing together filled the room as you watched with your parents. You smiled as you watched the laughing couples spin around the floor.

‘A beautiful party tonight, I must congratulate you!’ Queen Zhong’s voice pulled your attention away from the dance floor. You looked over as she placed an affectionate kiss on your mother's cheek and your father shook hands with King Zhong.

Your mother thanked her as they all laughed together. You smiled at the sight, watching silently from the sides. It wasn't long before you were approached and asked to dance, however, it was not by who you had expected.

‘Y/n, would you care to join me for a dance?’ King Zhong offered out his hand to you, a friendly smile on his face.

‘I would be honoured.’ You replied, a similar smile stretching across yours.

King Zhong led you into the dance floor and guided you as the music continued to play. You danced through the steps that you had been learning since you could walk, making them almost second nature to you now. 

‘I know that this marriage may not be what you wanted.’ King Zhong suddenly said, surprising you with his bluntness. ‘I know my arranged marriage wasn't what I wanted.’ You looked up at him with raised eyebrows. He nodded, reiterating his point. ‘I was only a year older than you and Chenle are now, my wife only a year older than me. We were married within a week of meeting and it took us over a year after the wedding until we could even call ourselves friends. The pressure of an arranged marriage, especially one as important as yours, can place a huge amount of strain on any relationship. I wanted you to know that I understand that and I hoped that I would be able to give you a small piece of advice, y/n.’

‘What is that, your majesty?’ You asked, recognising the song coming to an end.

‘Don’t force this. Don’t rush it. You have all the time in the world to get to know each other, just enjoy meeting someone new and focus on being friends. Remember that this is about the two of you as well, not just our kingdoms, make sure that you are happy.’ He finished, looking down on you with a smile that reminded you so much of your father's.

‘Thank you.’ You replied honestly, feeling as though he had somehow sorted out many of the worries that were clouding your mind. 

You both stepped away from each other and walked back to where the other royals were waiting. You watched as he took his wife by the hand and dragged her out to dance, encouraging your father to do the same.

While watching the two couples, who had had the same marriage you would too, you couldn't help but wonder if yours would ever have the same kind of happy ending. 

You took a few steps backwards and accidentally bumped into someone causing you to quickly apologise and turn around, only to find yourself face to face with Chenle.

‘Your highness!’ You both said in sync, trying to apologise to the other at the same time.

You both stood there in silence for a few seconds, you were wracking your brain trying to think of something to say, when Chenle suddenly held out his hand.

‘Would you care to dance?’ His face held a hopeful smile that you already found impossible to say no to.

‘I would love to.’ You replied, slipping your hand into his.

You let Chenle take you into the middle of the dance floor before beginning to move together in sync. For a while you just let the music do the talking, filling the silence between the two of you with its instrumental words.

‘I could teach you if you want?’ Chenle suddenly said, making you look up at him in confusion.

‘Teach me what?’ You asked, furrowing your brows.

‘Piano, I meant piano. I- I could teach you how to play the piano if you wanted.’ A small blush dusted his cheeks, one which you couldn't help but think was rather cute.

‘I- I would love that. That would be so kind of you.’ You replied, smiling at his kind-hearted offer.

‘I wouldn't mind, I love playing so I’m happy to do it.’ He smiled back at you before continuing. ‘Although I do have one favour to ask of you, however.’

‘Oh?’ You said looking up at him.

‘Could you possibly show me around the castle? It’s kind of large and I don’t know my way around any of it yet. I nearly got lost on my way here...’ He mumbled the last bit to himself yet you still managed to catch it, making you laugh out loud slightly. 

Chenle noticed you laughing and smiled at the sight. ‘Don’t laugh! I seriously was terrified I was going to be late. Imagine how awful that would be, our parents in the middle of a toast for the two of us and I’m not even there! I would not be able to live in this kingdom after that.’ By this point you couldn’t stop yourself from laughing. You leaned your head down slightly to try to stifle your giggles and accidentally placed your forehead on Chenle’s shoulder. You lifted it off quickly and saw Chenle’s face, him still holding the same nervous look as when he was talking previously. This caused you to break out into a second fit of giggles, only this time Chenle couldn't hold himself back from laughing with you.

There you stood, dancing together and laughing over the same joke for ten minutes. If either of you had turned your head to the side, you would have seen your parents watching the both of you with fond smiles on all of their faces.

---

The next morning you found yourself sitting at your desk, flitting through some documents your mother had asked you to look at. None of them were anything to do with you, she had only recommended them so that you would have an idea of the kinds of things you would need to look at once you were crowned.

The documents were actually rather interesting, but since you had no power over anything to do with them, they seemed to be getting more boring with every word. 

As soon as you heard the knock on the door, relief rushed through your system. Anything to take you away from this reading.

‘Oh thank god.’ You said to yourself before calling out ‘Come in.’ You lowered the page away from your face so that you could see who had entered your room.

‘Your highness! What can I do for you?’ You asked, moving the paper away from your face entirely and placing it down on your desk.

‘I’m not interrupting anything am I?’ Chenle asked, his eyes scanning over the documents on your desk.

‘No, no, not at all. Just some recommended reading from my mother.’ You explained. Chenle’s eyes widened slightly at that. 

‘Your parents do that too! Give you documents to read so that you know what you’ll be dealing with once you’re crowned? Even though there's nothing you can do with them so you're not really learning much.’ He said, stepping closer to you.

‘Exactly that. Oh god, it’s nice to talk to someone who understands what it’s like. I mean, I get why she gives them to me, but, at the moment they kind of do nothing for me.’ You laughed, watching as Chenle laughed too.

‘Don’t they just get more boring the more you read?’ 

‘Honestly, I’ve never been so happy to hear someone knock on my door. Anyway, what can I do for you?’ You asked, offering Chenle a seat in front of you which he gladly took.

‘I was hoping I may be able to get that tour? It took me an embarrassingly long amount of time to find your room and the thought of being late to anything scares the hell out of me.’ Chenle said, looking at you hopefully.

‘Of course, I’d be happy to show you around. Just so you know, once your man servant is assigned, they will be able to escort you everywhere until you get your bearings.’ You stood up, Chenle following you and you began to walk towards the door. ‘Also, anything to get me away from that reading.’

Chenle burst into laughter, a surprisingly infectious high pitched laugh that easily made you laugh too.

---

You showed Chenle most of the palace. You began with the library and headed from there into the great hall, the throne room, the court physician and showed him around countless bedrooms and servant quarters.

You had finished the entire inside of the castle and knights’ training area and were calmly walking through the grounds when Chenle asked you what your favourite spot in the castle was. You sent him a grin.

‘I’ll show you, follow me.’ You led him quickly into the stables.

‘The stables?’ He asked, raising an eyebrow in question.

‘No, not the stables.’ You laughed before continuing to explain why you had stopped here. ‘It’s just easier and faster to get to my favourite place on horseback.’

Chenle nodded in confirmation, before following you fully inside. You greeted the stablehand with a smile before asking about any available horses. You already had yours which you had ridden for the past few years, but were hoping to get Chenle one which he may keep as his.

You brought Chenle to your horse, allowing him to greet the pure black stallion, called Obsidian, which you rode. The stablehand brought him out and began to saddle him up while you showed Chenle a few available horses. He immediately began to walk towards the grey spotted stallion, standing in front of it for a few seconds before stroking it.

‘I’ve always wished for a horse like this.’ He said over his shoulder. ‘Ever since I was young I wanted one this colour which I would call Aspen.’ 

You stepped forwards with a smile. 

‘Then he’s yours.’ You said.

Chenle whirled around and stared at you in disbelief.

‘He’s what now?’ He asked, all formality that was usually present in your conversation disappearing due to his shock.

You laughed and gestured to the stable hand that this was the horse he wanted before speaking again.

‘Well, since you are now living here, I thought you may want your own horse. You can ride him whenever you like, will take him with you if you journey anywhere and, most knights take theirs into battle with them too.’

For the first time since you met him, Chenle seemed genuinely speechless. He just stared at you, eyes wide and mouth open before stuttering out a:

‘Th- thank you.’

You just smiled and nodded before heading out of the stables to where your horses were saddled up and waiting. 

You both quickly mounted before calling out to Chenle, to follow you. You dug your heels into Obsidian’s sides and began to move off. You started off at a gentle canter before speeding up into a full gallop.

Chenle kept close behind you, impressing you with his riding skills. You galloped out of the castle and into the woodland before continuing up a path that you knew well. The trees rushed in a blur of green and brown beside you and you looked to your left and saw Chenle riding exactly next to you. You both smiled at each other before you nodded your head to the right and shouted,

‘This way!’

The wind flew through your hair as you took Chenle uphill towards a cliff edge before, finally, beginning to slow down.

Your horses were panting heavily by the time you arrived, having been riding at a fast pace for a short while. You tied them to a tree next to a river nearby and left them to drink and recover whilst you brought Chenle to the cliff edge.

‘This is my favourite spot.’ You said, looking out on the marvellous view in front of you that never failed to take your breath away.

From this cliff edge you could see the entire citadel. The castle stood proud in all its glory and the town travelled all the way down to the walls by the lower gates. The view stretched past the lower town and outside of the city walls, where you could see a few farming fields and the closer outlying villages. 

You sat down on the comfortable grass, Chenle sitting beside you.

‘Enlighten me, your highness, why is it that your favourite spot in the castle isn't actually in the castle?’ He asked, tearing his eyes away from the scenery to look at you.

‘Because, there's more to a kingdom than just it’s castle’ You explained. ‘I like to look at it from here because I can see the people. My people. Who I love and will do any I can to protect, with or without an oath. Here I can see everything and, I feel fulfilled, like everything makes sense.’

Chenle watched you, nodding with more sincerity and seriousness than you had seen on him yet. Then the small mischievous grin you had come to recognise spread across his face.

‘So... you can speak multiple languages, dance beautifully, ride better than half of the knights I’ve ever seen... I don’t suppose there are any other talents of yours I should know about?’ He asked, looking at you out of the corner of one eye.

You smiled at the question, keeping your eyes trained on the view in front of you.

‘Stay tuned.’ You stated, enjoying the conversation between the two of you without formalities. It was much easier to talk to Chenle when you weren't so aware of keeping up the royal facade. After sitting there for a few more minutes, admiring the view and making idle conversation, you finally made a move to stand. ‘Let’s go. I’ll show you one of the outer villages then we can head back.’

As soon as he saw you moving to get up, Chenle shot to his feet quickly and offered out a hand for you to take. You smiled and accepted it, allowing him to pull you up from the ground. You headed back towards your horses and mounted once again. You set off at a quick pace, enjoying the wind in your hair and the shouts of conversation from Chenle behind you. You travelled all the way to the outer village laughing and joking, only to be greeted with a sight that was anything but happy.

The village was under attack.

---

You and Chenle rode into the small village, the utter chaos surrounding you distracting anyone from noticing who the two of you were. 

You quickly jumped down from your horse and looked over at Chenle who was staring at you with almost unnoticeable fear in his eyes.

‘Get the horses and yourself out of here. Keep them safe and I’ll find you in a bit.’ You instructed. You watched as Chenle’s expression clearly changed to worry.

‘What about you? What are you going to do?’ He asked.

‘I’m going to help my people.’ You stated. And with that you turned around and ran into the battle. You stopped briefly to grab a sword from a fallen bandit before moving to protect your citizens.

You swung the sword upwards to block an attack on a kneeling villager and deftly redirected the blow. You stepped in front of the injured man and faced the bandit head on. He stepped forward to swing at you and you brought your sword up to protect yourself, but he suddenly stopped, grunted slightly and fell to the ground.

Behind him stood Chenle, sword raised and eyes on the fallen bandit. 

‘Are you okay?’ He asked, his face filled with concern.

‘What are you doing?’ You replied. You knew you should probably thank him but at this moment you were so shocked that that was all you could get out.

‘Helping the people. If they're your people, that means they're now my people and I’m not planning on waiting on the sidelines while you fight for them.’ He said firmly, grabbing your hand and pulling the fallen villager up and helping him into a house for shelter.

You felt pure admiration filling your chest. The boy had been here for under 48 hours and was already risking his life for a kingdom and people he didn't know. You quickly grabbed hold of his hand, forcing him to look at you.

‘Thank you, your highness.’ You said, looking him straight in the eye. He nodded and you turned back towards the battle.

The next minutes were a blur of whirring swords, shouts of pain and worry and the sound of metal clashing on metal. It didn't take long for the news of your arrival to spread throughout the village, scaring half of the bandits away. The last thing they wanted to do was be known by name to the future rulers and current heirs of the kingdom.

As you watched the last few bandits disappear into the woods, you turned to the village leader and asked for their name.

‘If you are ever troubled by these bandits again, you are to send word to the castle immediately. Knights will be here within the hour.’ You announced to the villagers.

‘How can we ever thank you, your highness?’ The village elder asked, bowing his head in respect. You smiled at him.

‘Work hard and help your children grow up well. I don’t ask for anything more than knowing that my people are living well.’ You replied honestly. You never felt the need to take anything from the villagers, you would much rather know that they were happy and healthy.

You walked towards Chenle, who had reappeared with both of your horses. You had no idea where he had hidden them, but you were just glad that they hadn't been stolen. You mounted before reassuring the village with one final statement.

‘Prince Chenle and I will inform the king and queen of the bandits. I will personally ensure that food and medicine are taken down here to replenish what you have lost. If you know of any other villages with similar problems, please alert us and we will send knights down as reinforcements.’ 

You heard the villagers whisper Chenle’s name in awe. The outer villages hadn't seen him yet so it wasn't surprising that they had no idea who he was. You turned on your horse, Chenle doing the same and began to canter away, listening to the cheers and thanks echoing up from the relieved village behind you.

---

The ride back to the castle was a quiet one. You hadn't tried to speak yet, knowing that your main priority was to report the recent events to your father. But, just before you reached the walls, you slowed Obsidian to a stop, causing a confused Chenle to halt Aspen too. You dismounted and watched as Chenle did the same.

‘Is everything ok? Why aren't we going in?’ He asked, clearly having no clue what you were about to do.

You walked up to him and wrapped your arms tightly around his neck.

‘Thank you, for helping me and my people.’ You whispered, arms tightening slightly.

To begin with, Chenle didn't seem to know what to do, his arms raised slightly but frozen there. He quickly recovered from the initial shock, however, securing his arms around your waist and pulling you even closer to him. You were taken aback by how easy it was to hug him and how comforting he was. You both stayed in this position, neither of you wanting to be the first to let go.

‘We need to tell my father what happened.’ You eventually said. ‘He’s probably wondering where we are since we did kind of just disappear.’ 

You felt Chenle nod into your shoulder and you both slowly drew your arms out from around each other. You took a step back, too self conscious to be able to look him in the eyes and quickly remounted Obsidian. You kicked him gently, spurring him into a gentle canter and made your way back through the castle gates.

---

You and Chenle stood in the throne room, in front of your parents explaining the events of that day.

‘- supplies that they have lost over the past few attacks.’ You finished, laying out your hopes for helping the village repair.

You parents nodded, taking the situation very seriously and both agreeing with your plan to help rebuild and protect the targeted villages.

‘We will send a group of knights to them to deliver the supplies and get the names of the other villages that may be struggling as well. Thank you for bringing this to my attention Y/n. Chenle, thank you for stepping in. While I trust my y/n with a sword, I dread to think about what may have happened to the rest of the village, had you not decided to protect them as well. We are indebted to you.’

 Your father’s words made Chenle smile slightly, even though he tried to hide it. Chenle bowed his head once before speaking himself.

‘It was an honour, your majesty. As your highness, y/n, pointed out to me today, the kingdom is more than just a castle, its spirit is in its people. And if I am to rule these people one day, I would like to know that I have protected them at any moment I could.’

You parents both smiled at Chenle’s words, their obvious approval making you smile too. Your mother then raised her concerned voice to speak her final thoughts.

‘Thank you, both of you for your duty today. It may be wise to see the court physician to ensure that neither of you have any serious injuries.’

You both nodded before bowing and exiting the room, making your way towards the castle’s doctor.

---

After both being cleared of any serious injuries, you and Chenle both being prescribed an ointment for various bruises and one small cut on Chenle’s arm, you offered to walk Chenle back to his room.

‘I doubt you’ve managed to memorise the entire castle yet.’ You joked.

‘Not quite.’ He replied, a similar smile on his face. ‘I did get rather caught up in other business today though.’

You smiled down at the ground and you walked along the grey stone floors. Chenle cleared his throat.

‘So, you can fight well with a sword too. You continue to surprise me, your highness.’

Your face broke out into another smile.

‘I told you to stay tuned. Besides I can't have you getting bored this early can I?’ You joked, a laugh breaking out of Chenle at that.

‘I guess not...’ Chenle paused his sentence as you reached his door. 

‘Also...’ You began, drawing Chenle’s attention as he placed his hand on the door handle. ‘Please, call me Y/n. I’d like for us to drop some of the formalities if you're okay with that?’

Chenle smiled at your question.

‘I’d love that. And, please call me Chenle, all formalities forgotten.’ 

You breathed a small sigh of relief, feeling as though you were standing next to a new friend rather than a stranger you would soon marry.

‘Goodnight, Chenle.’ You said, unable to take the smile off your face.

‘Goodnight, Y/n.’ He replied, before stepping inside his room and closing his door behind him.

And there you both stood, on either side of the same door, both smiling at the simple thought of the other.

#royal blooded #nct #nct series #nct dream series #chenle #Zhong chenle #nct royalty #nct dream royalty #nct royalty au #nct dream royalty au #chenle au #Zhong Chenle au #nct dream #fluff #angst #nct fluff #nct angst #nct dream fluff #nct dream angst #chenle fluff #chenle angst #Zhong Chenle angst #Zhong Chenle fluff

[sunsetcurbed]

you showed me faith is not blind (miracles happen)

Pairing: Alex/Willie Words: 6,587  Rating: T Chapter Warnings: none Chapter: 10/11 read on AO3 

Chapter Summary: “Good luck tonight. I look forward to your speech.”

And that left him where he is now, completely sure that he has made a mistake in his decision.

He picks up his phone.

(15:54) lmao nvm

(*) 

Alex is not going to be Prince.

He’s not sure why he said he was going to be in the first place because clearly it’s an absolutely ludicrous idea. Alex is barely a functioning human, he can’t be a prince!

He’s pacing his room, keeping his eyes averted from the charcoal grey suit that’s laid out on his bed. He’d just taken it out of its garment bag and it has been taunting him, as if saying this is your future, you don’t belong. And he doesn’t belong, does he? The suit is like nothing he’s ever worn, not even for the dinner a few weeks ago, and if he chooses to become prince this suit would just be the first of many, and—it’s too good for him. He’s not good enough for it. He’s not good enough to be Prince.

He looks at the clock. His driver is supposed to be here to get him in six minutes, but Alex hasn’t even started to get dressed. His family has already left for the Ball, and he’s got no idea what to do.

He might not be having these thoughts if it weren’t for his surprise visitor a few minutes ago, but then again, he might have ended up here no matter what. But, really, how else was he supposed to react after Caleb Covington shows up at his door and completely runs his spirit into the ground? His decision was already standing on pretty shaky legs this morning once he’d woken up, the high from last night gone. By the time he’d taken his anxiety medications, eaten breakfast, showered, and helped his family get ready he was already starting to doubt himself. He was planning a back up speech in his mind. And then—

“Alexander,” Caleb said from the front of his porch, leaning against one of the beams. Alex’s family had just left minutes before, so he was left to face Caleb alone. “How nice to see you.”

“Yeah,” Alex said, “it must be, considering you drove out of your way to come find me. What are you doing here?”

“Such insolence. I’m just here to congratulate you on your big night. Not everyone gets to speak at the Beasigan consulate. You’ll be up there addressing hundreds of people from all around the world; quite the feat for a sixteen year old with almost no formal training.” There was a glint in Caleb’s eye, as if he had known about Alex’s anxiety, knew that Alex’s stomach was flipping as soon as ‘hundreds of people’ left Caleb’s lips. “I just wanted to stop by and ask—“

Alex shook his head. “No,” he said, willing his stomach to settle. “No—okay, I know what you’ve been doing. Chasing down Willie, stalking him to get a read on me. It’s not going to work. You can’t make me do anything.” Caleb stares him down. Alex feels himself bending, as if he’d just disrespected a superior, but he doesn’t crack, doesn’t break.

“Stalking? Please. I just wanted to get to know William,” Caleb said. “He seemed to love skating the streets of Hollywood so much it wasn’t hard to find him. I just thought, as Speaker of the House of Crane, I should be working to get to know our possible future Prince Consort. After all, he’d be around the palace a lot. What with his… duties. Counseling you and charities. He seems the just the type for that, your William.”

Alex didn’t think too much on that in the moment, just crossed his arms and sighed. “My driver is going to be here in thirty minutes. I’ve got to finish getting ready.”

“I won’t keep you. But. The Beasigan people are strong and united,” Caleb hummed, looking down at his nails, studying them as if he’d been looking for any flaws that he might have to file or buff out before the ball that night. “They can be a bit… skeptical… of outsiders. So don’t let that get to you.”

Alex narrowed his eyes. “Really? As I recall, you’re the one who wanted to prevent outsiders from having a place in our country, not the people. And you were stopped. I’ve been nothing but welcomed by everyone I’ve met.”

“And you’ve met how many people?” he asked with a flat voice. “Ten? Twenty? Thirty? Do they speak for our sixty thousand? They’re diplomats, they’re programmed to be polite, being diplomatic is quite literally in their name.” He shoved off the column and walked towards Alex. “But! I’m not here to try to intimidate you, no. I’m here to wish you all the best! Whatever you decide. Truly, Alexander. I just implore you to think.”

“What do you think I’ve been doing since my grandmother showed up in my life?” Alex shot back.

Caleb huffed a laugh. “That’s right.” He turns to leave, and then pauses. “Funny thing about ruling a country—no one really knows what it’s like until they’ve been in that position. Even I don’t know what it’s like. I have experience in Parliament—and you have experience in… Well.” He tilted his head to the side and offered Alex a smile. “But you know what it’s like living a normal life. Your band, your friends, your boyfriend, all without the stress of…” He put his fingers together. “But I suppose you’re right. You have been thinking about it since Queen Louisa entered your life. And I’m sure you’ve considered all the angles, all the benefits and especially the repercussions. You must have had plenty of time to do that, I imagine. After all, you’ve had a month and a half—why, that’s practically a lifetime to consider this. It’s not like you’ve only been given a week or two to make this decision.”

Alex tightened his arms around his chest. “Mr. Covington—“

“Caleb, please.”

“Caleb, I really must be getting ready. I will see you at the ball, all right?”

Caleb nodded. “Of course. You must excuse me, sometimes I forget myself.”

“It’s no worry,” Alex said, even though he could have been rude because no one but himself and Caleb were around. Manners were so deeply ingrained in him by that point that it just… happened.

“Good luck tonight. I look forward to your speech.”

And that left him where he is now, completely sure that he has made a mistake in his decision.

He picks up his phone.

(15:54) lmao nvm

Willie, wonderful Willie, calls within two minutes.

“Hello?” Alex answers.

“What happened?” Willie asks.

Alex sucks in a breath that gets caught in his throat. It turns into a sob. “Why did I think I could do this? I’m not—I’m not cut out for this. I wasn’t born to be a prince. I don’t know why I said I would be in the first place, that—that’s so stupid, Willie, do you realize how stupid that is?”

“No,” Willie says, and then, away from the speaker, thanks someone. Alex hears a car door slam and an engine start. “No, I don’t Alex, because I think it’s a great idea.”

“Where’s the great idea?”

Willie hums. “Hidden behind a wall of anxiety.”

“Oh, cute,” Alex scoffs. “Anxiety saves lives, you know. There are times when your body is telling you something is wrong because it is.”

“Anxiety also keeps lives from being lived. Your body isn’t telling you this is wrong, your body is telling you this is dangerous. And you believe it. You didn’t believe it last night when you weren’t anxious, Alex, and that tells me that you want to do this.”

“I want to do this?” Alex scoffs. “Willie, you don’t even know what you want to do with your life and you’ve got it so much more figured out than I do. And here I am deciding to sign my life away at sixteen to a country that I’ve never been to. A country that could choose to reject me at first sight. A country that I knew nothing about a month and a half ago.”

“A country that you love,” Willie reminds him.

“How can I love it when I’ve only known it for a month?”

“Because you’ve met its queen, and you love her heart and her hopes for the future. Because you’ve met its Prime Minister and you love his ideas and his plans for the future. Because you’ve seen its people and you love them—for all that they stand for and all that they are, and because they are good people and they deserve a good leader, and that’s what you will be.”

Alex doesn’t have anything to say to that, so he keeps his mouth shut. He does love Beasiga, but it feels impossible that he does even with all the reasons that Willie just explained. He’s never even been there. Los Angeles is all Alex has known and Beasiga is 1.5% of Los Angeles’ population and Los Angeles is nearly three and half times the size of Beasiga. And Alex likes Los Angeles because it’s easy to disappear and everyone is so busy they don’t have time to notice you. Alex has only experienced Beasiga through stories and media, but he knows it’s not like Los Angeles over there. People say hi when they pass you on the street, they help you if you’re struggling to carry something too heavy, and they don’t let you fade into the background. He—he likes that, but it also terrifies him.

The silence stretches on over the phone, occasionally interrupted by Willie’s turn signal or the honking of another car, but after a few minutes, Willie breaks it. “You’re wrong, you know. I do know what I want to do with my life.”

… That’s a new development. “Yeah? What’s that?”

“Be Prince Consort to Beasiga’s King,” he says without missing a beat. Alex’s heart skips a beat. “Spend my days helping you help make Beasiga, and the world, a better place. Continue to help move Beasiga forward.”

“Willie…” Alex sighs. He’s torn on being ecstatic and worried at hearing that. “You’re just being—“

“Don’t say I’m just being impulsive,” Willie cuts him off, “because I have been thinking about this since the night you first told me you were a prince. I’ve known I loved you for a long time, Alex, and I’ve been thinking about what this would mean for me since the beginning. I’ve done my research, I’ve thought it through, I’ve sat on it. I’m not just jumping at it first chance.”

Caleb’s words come back to him. He seems just the type for that, your William. No. No he doesn’t. Willie is an active mind, an active body, an active soul. He’s not meant to sit still next to Alex. “Don’t you think you deserve more than that? That if you choose that, you’ll wake up one day and regret it?”

“No,” Willie says, voice confident. “I was never going to make a career out of skateboarding or dance, and it’s not like I can’t still do those in Beasiga. If I’m doing a psych degree in college I’ll maybe look at being a therapist? And who knows, maybe part of helping move Beasiga forward is allowing me to have my own career path separate from my consort duties.”

“What if that doesn’t work? If you’re stuck being a consort without your own career?”

“Being a therapist is just an idea right now,” Willie reminds him. Alex can hear the casual tone of his voice, and it tells Alex that it really is just an idea, that it isn’t something Willie has his heart set on. Still, Alex wants that for him. “I have no idea if I actually want to pursue it or not. But if I do and it ends up not working out, then I’ll still have skateboarding. I’ll still have dance. I’ll still have the ability to make an impact in the world, make differences in peoples days and lives, work with charities, leave my mark. It’s not like I’ll be sitting bored every day. Consorts may have less to do but they don’t have nothing to do. And I can make up my own things to do. Move Beasiga forward. And… I’ll still have you.”

“… And you’re willing to do that for me?”

“I mean, it’s not just for you, it’d be for me, and even in part for Beasiga too, but… yeah.” It’s so simple for Willie to admit that. To say that he’d move to another country, adapt to a different culture, and learn the ins and outs of the country so he could properly advise Alex on how to properly rule that country. Willie’s always made comments—‘I told you, I’d do anything for you’—but Alex had never realized how literal he was being. But, well. If Alex is being honest, he’ll do almost anything for Willie, too. He knows there are things that both he and Willie would draw the line at, but neither he nor Willie would ever dream of asking the other of those things. Like Willie asking Alex to quit the band or Alex asking Willie to give up skateboarding. But Willie moving to Beasiga and serving as Prince Consort along side Alex? Is apparently something Willie will readily do. “If it’ll make you feel better, after you accept your place as Prince we can start talking to Louisa about changing the consort’s duties, so when the time comes, if I want to pursue a career, I’ll have that choice.”

“That… would actually make me feel better,” Alex admits.

“Then tomorrow, after your speech today accepting your place as Prince, we’ll discuss it with Louisa and see what she thinks. Good?”

“Good,” Alex says. Then—“hey. Wait. I still don’t—I still can’t—who said I was going to accept being prince?”

“All right, hit me,” Willie says, and then Alex does—words spilling out of him so quickly that he loses track of what he’s saying. Willie doesn’t though. He listens to Alex patiently and talks him through all of his fears, all of his anxieties. He reminds him of the reasons that, just yesterday, he decided he wanted to be Beasiga’s Prince. Willie listens as Alex questions those exact reasons, and then answers them himself without any input from Willie until it’s entirely a one-sided conversation and Willie is just along for the ride. When Alex comes to the conclusion he still wants to be Prince, Willie asks him how he feels about that, and listens to Alex stammer through half-finished sentences that don’t make sense. And when Alex calms down again, Willie is there to ask Alex if he’s okay, ask him how he can help, ask him if there’s anything he needs.

“No,” Alex shakes his head. “No, I… I’m okay. I think I really, actually am.”

“Okay,” Willie says, accepting his word easily. “All right, I’m turning on your street, come let me inside.”

“You—you’re here?”

“Where else did you think I was going?” Willie demands sounding slightly offended. “Of course I am. I’m gonna get rid of your driver and then we’ll drive to the Ball together, all right? Come unlock the door and start getting ready. I’ll be in in a minute. Where’s your room?”

“Take the stairs, go down the hall and it’s the one on the right.”

“All right. See you in a few.”

Alex does as he’s told and by the time he’s in his dress pants and slipping his button up over his arms, Willie steps into his room. Alex watches as Willie turns and shuts the door even though they’re home alone, and then walks over to him. He takes his place in front of Alex who is straightening his shirt on his shoulders and starting to button it up. They stare at each other, silent. Willie nods, murmurs, “you’re okay.”

Alex buttons up the last button of his shirt and tucks it into his pants. “Yeah,” he says. He reaches to his bed for his vest and slides it over his shoulders. He starts to button it up but Willie’s hands knock his away and take over. Alex watches him with careful eyes. “I’m sorry if I freaked you out.”

“You didn’t freak me out,” he says. He does up one, two, three buttons then smooths his hand down from Alex’s chest to his stomach. “I’m just… I’m kind of pissed at myself that I didn’t think of this. I should have expected this. I know you. It took you so long to decide; you didn’t have enough time to be sure of your decision. I should have known you were going to doubt yourself. You just… you were so sure of yourself last night. I didn’t think—”

“Hey,” Alex frowns, dipping his head down to look in Willie’s eyes. He doesn’t want to tell him about Caleb, not right now, not before the ball. He’ll tell him tomorrow, but right now, he needs Willie, and Willie would be livid if he learned about Caleb. “It’s not like this is on you. Even if you had thought if it, there isn’t anything you could have done—“

“I could have been here,” Willie argues, gripping the suit vest and pulling Alex closer. “I wouldn’t have had to talk you through it from my car. You wouldn’t have had to be alone.”

Alex sighs and reaches a hand up to Willie’s jaw so he can bring Willie’s face up to his. He presses their lips together and feels Willie melt against his front. Alex pulls away and lets Willie fall into him. “You were there when I needed you and that’s all that I needed. I mean, you’re going off to college next year anyway; I’m going to need to learn to survive without you at some point. I can’t depend on you for everything, and I really can’t depend on you to predict when something is going to go wrong and wait for you to fix it for me.”

“But if I can—“

“Willie,” Alex says, and then kisses him again. “You’re the reason I’m in this suit right now ready to go tell a whole ass group of people that I’ve decided I’m going to rule a whole other ass group of people in a few years. You’ve done absolutely everything you can.” Then he pulls away from Willie’s hold, eyes widening. “Shit. Shit. My speech.” He looks at the clock on his bedside table. 5:13 “I’m supposed to be giving a speech in seventeen minutes, fuck!”

“I texted Julie when I got here. She’s finding someone so she can tell Louisa what’s going on,” Willie tells him in a calm voice. “She might have already, okay? Get your jacket and tie on, get your shoes on, and I’ll go call her for an update.”

“Okay,” Alex breathes, and does exactly as Willie says.

When he emerges from his room three minutes later, Willie is standing by his front door with his hands in his pockets. He looks up, takes a hand from his pocket, and holds up a thumb and pinky at Alex telling him right away to relax. “We’re good, dude. Speech is at 6:30 now. It’s still a drive though, and we’ve gotta take Melrose to avoid 10 so we don’t hit rush hour on the highway, but it’s still gonna be shitty so we’ve gotta go now.”

What should be a twenty-minute drive ends up taking nearly an hour, so they spend the time devising a plan to talk to his grandmother about Willie’s hypothetical consort duties the next day. Willie starts telling Alex that they can wait, but Alex tells him no. If Willie is committing to Alex to this degree, then Alex wants to make sure that there won’t be any doors shut in Willie’s future. If Willie wants to be a therapist, he’s going to be a fucking therapist. Alex is sure his grandma will help them make it happen. She’s asked Willie what his plans for college are; yet she’s also made implications that he would be the one standing by Alex’s side if Alex were to be King. Why would she do that if she thought Willie would just be a piece at Alex’s side?

When they get to the consulate, Willie pulls them around back and down a driveway that Alex has never taken note of before. When Willie notices his confusion he says, “the press and guests are all… mingling in the halls.”

Alex snorts. “Did you just say mingling?”

“Yeah,” Willie grins. “It’s what Alden said on the phone. Now it’s all I can think of.”

They enter through the caterer’s entrance into a hall that Alex has never been down and Alden is there waiting for them. He greets them both and then leads the way through the hall, down another, and then another, until Alex can see his grandmother, John, and a few other people waiting at the end of the hall they turn into. He feels relief wash through him and, when his grandmother turns to look at him, he can see that same relief run through her as well.

“Oh, thank goodness,” she breathes out when they reach them. She steps forward and collects Alex into a hug, and then Willie, too. “Thank you, Willie, for sending Julie to inform me of what was going on.”

“No problem,” he shrugs. “I’m just glad it all worked out.”

“What on earth happened?” she demands, looking to Alex.

“Uh, minor crisis. Just… clearing my head, you know.” Next to him, Willie snorts.

“Clearing your head?” she asks.

“Uh… yes?”

She rolls her eyes and tosses her hands up in exasperation. “Well I hope your head clearing worked, because we go on in five minutes. Did you make a decision?”

His eyes flick to Willie. “Yeah. I did.”

“… do I get to know this decision?”

“You know? I waited sixteen years to find out I was a prince. You can wait five more minutes to find out whether I’m staying a prince.”

“Harsh,” Willie murmurs, but reaches forward to hook his pinky with Alex’s.

His grandmother looks down at their hands. She looks back up at Alex and shakes her head with a frown, but the effect is ruined a moment later when she breaks into laughter. “I suppose I can’t blame you for that one.”

They fall into casual conversation after that, his grandmother talking about Tasha and how she’d been asking about Willie today and admitted that he had beautiful hair that she wanted to mess around with. Alex laughs at that and Willie does too, but he notices his boyfriend’s face is several shades darker that it had been moments ago. John talks about how they had to remove two reporters for getting in a physical altercation, and seems gleeful while discussing it. Alden is all too interested in listening to the story, and is crestfallen when, in the middle of it, someone comes to retrieve them for the speech. They’re led down the hallway and as they go, the murmurings of voices grow. Alex can feel himself grow more and more tense realizing that he’s going to be under their gazes soon. Willie uses his pinky to drag Alex’s hand up, and then twists their hands in midair until their fingers are twined together.

“You’ll be fine,” he whispers.

His voice catches the attention of Alex’s grandmother who turns around and sees the look on Alex’s face. She relaxes her shoulders and reaches out, tapping her hands gently to his cheeks. “My dear, you will do wonderfully. I will be right up there with you, all right?” He nods. “Good. Now, I must go introduce you. You have a few minutes to prepare.” She turns to Willie. “Remind him how spectacular he is, will you?”

“On it.”

And then she’s gone.

“Hey,” Willie says, and Alex looks at him with wide eyes. “Hey. You with me?” He nods. “Good. Okay, so—you’re anxious right now because you’re about to give a speech and you think they’re going to be judging you for your speech, right? But those people out there are just out there to hear you step into your role as Prince. Alex, this is a good thing. Those people out there will be excited. They’re here to listen to you speak, not to judge you.”

“What if my speech sucks so bad they can’t help but judge me?” Alex asks.

“It won’t.”

“But what if.”

“Then fuck it—you had a bad speech. Everyone has bad performances. You’ve messed beats up during performances with the band and you don’t let those get to you, you brush them off and are ready to play the next gig. You remember when I was in tenth grade and kicked my shoe off into the audience during a performance and then kept slipping on the stage on my sock? It happened, it couldn’t be helped, we moved on. I moved on. If—and that’s a big if—you suck today, you’ll move on too, I promise, okay? I promise. And I’ll help you move on.” Willie leans up on his toes and kisses Alex. “You can do this, Alex. You know you can do this.”

Alex looks down at Willie and sees sincere, brown eyes staring up at him. He drags Willie in for a hug and just… just holds him. Willie returns the hug and pushes his face into Alex’s shoulder and they simply exist together surrounded by each other in a little bubble. He uses Willie’s breathing, working to match his own to it so he doesn’t start to get worked up again. Willie’s fingers are curled into his upper back and the pressure is just enough to ground him, just enough to keep him here and not somewhere far away in his mind where it really is just the two of them.

The bubble is popped a few minutes later when Alden returns to escort Alex to the makeshift stage. He’s reluctant as he pulls away from Willie, and Willie and Alden both know it, but the important thing is that he manages it. He nods at Alden and they start towards the stage, Willie at his side, right up until they reach the entrance to the hall. “I love you,” he whispers, and then stops in his tracks, leaving Alex to twirl around in surprise. He laughs, shooing Alex towards the stage. “Go.” Alex turns, casts a look back at Willie, and then walks forward.

As Alex steps out from the back hall and feels the weight of a room full of eyes fall on him, a fire roars to life in his gut, flaring up through his throat and leaving a bad taste in his mouth. Spots dance in his vision during his walk to his grandmother, but he takes a moment to think about his breathing, takes a moment to draw in a deep, full breath, filling his lungs with air, and the spots recede little by little. When he reaches his grandmother, they’re all but gone. She smiles at him and extends an arm out, sweeping her hand out to motion to the crowd, and Alex looks out. The fire burns hotter and he looks back to his grandmother. “You have the floor,” she says, and then retreats back several feet away. He wants to reach out, bring her back, cling on to her for support, but he can’t. He steps up behind the podium and looks back to the hallway he’d just come from and meets Willie’s eyes. Willie smiles at him and gives him and encouraging nod. Alex turns back to the crowd, where every eye is focused on him. He thinks: everyone is looking at him because he’s here to speak, not to judge him. He swallows, glances back at Willie once more, and quells the flame to the best of his ability.

“Hi, uh, I’m Alex. You… probably… all know that since my grandma just introduced me. Sorry. I—uh, kinda wish I had my drums, heh,” Alex laughs, running his fingers through his hair. “I’m, uh, no good with being in the spotlight, or, uh, attention in general, um, not unless I’m behind my drums. Or… uh… it’s really more me being with my band…” He looks out at the crowd and is pleasantly surprised when he finds Julie, Luke, and Reggie’s eyes right in the front, and Flynn standing next to them. They’re all wearing radiant smiles and directing them towards Alex, and the flame recedes further down his throat on its own, and he feels himself relax back into his shoes. “Which, thankfully for me, they’re the best band ever and they’re here with me today, so, uh, no fainting or vomiting for me today. Oh—I didn’t need to add that, did I? O… kay. Uh. Anyways. Uh, I’m sure most of you know me, or at least of me, if you’re here. I’m Queen Louisa’s grandson, and Prince Frederick’s son. If you didn’t know this, yeah, neither did I a month and a half ago. Heh. I was shocked too. But, yeah, I’ve gotten used to it. Hopefully you will too.

“Uh, so. Beasiga is celebrating its three hundred and sixth formation day today. For one of the first times, the reigning monarch is not in the country to celebrate with the citizens. Instead, she is here, in the Beasiga consulate in Los Angeles, California, United States of America, with all of us. And she is here because of me.” He looks over to where his grandmother is standing off to the side, her hands folded over her midriff and her shoulders set tall and proud. The fire subsides further. She smiles at him, a motion for him to continue. “Um, my grandmother came at the end of October to meet me and begin teaching me the ins and outs of Beasiga and what it meant to be a prince and what it would later mean to be a king. She dedicated her time here to me not for me, but for Beasiga. Uh, and she did it in hopes that I would become the person she envisioned me to be, in hopes that I would step up, accept my claim to the throne, and rule Beasiga justly and fairly, exactly as she has been teaching me to do.

“What she didn’t expect to come across when she got here was a sixteen year old kid with anxiety who immediately ran away from the idea of being a prince. And I do mean that literally. I, uh. I ran out of the consulate after she told me I would be Prince and had to have my friend come pick me up.” The crowd laughs, some with humor, some unsure, and Alex smiles. Alex turns to look back at the hallway where Willie is still tucked away. He smiles at him and Willie smiles back. It’s only embers left in his gut, now. “Hm. Anyway. Yeah, so, uh, she didn’t expect that, but it’s what she got, and she helped turn that kid with anxiety into the kid who… still very much has anxiety, but can stand up here speaking with all of you. Yes, it’s still terrifying, but it’s not debilitating anymore. And she also gave me a choice. To use everything she gave me to rule Beasiga, or to use it in some other facet of life.” He draws in a deep breath. “I chose to use it elsewhere. I was never cut out to be a prince. I never in a million years dreamed that I could.

“But—could. Could is a word that is used to indicate possibility. Thanks for the vocab help, Google. So… Would it even be possible for me to rule Beasiga? I don’t know. I didn’t know. Even if I wanted to, I didn’t know if it was possible, or if I was able. Able. Be able to. The question became can I? I doubted myself, and I started asking myself that question a lot more often. And then I started asking other people. Their answers varied. Most were encouraging which wasn’t helpful because it’s not like someone’s going to tell you that you’re going to suck at ruling a country, right? Yeah, no. I surround myself with kind people, but sometimes, kind people don’t tell you what you need to hear. But then—there’s one person. I asked him, I went, ‘do you think I can?’ And he said, ‘man, I don’t know. I just care about whether or not you’re willing.’” Alex says, pausing for a long moment. “So, it became a matter of whether I was willing, which was a much, much easier question to answer. Because, well, yeah. I am willing.

“I’m willing to study Beasigan history, politics, government, culture, and anything and everything else there is to know about Beasiga to know the country as best I can. I’m willing to grow myself as a person and conquer fears that once held me hostage to know myself as best I can. I’m willing to put aside my fears and confront uncertainty to find a place for myself in this world. But I’m also willing to dedicate myself to Beasiga through the good times and the bad. I’m also willing to work at finding ways of moving Beasiga forward, at leading Beasiga into even better times than it is already in, which of course will be a challenge, as my grandmother is quite the Queen. And most importantly, I’m also willing to choose the people of Beasiga over myself.

“I prematurely chose to use the skills my grandma gave me in a different walk of life. But today and every day moving forward I will choose to use them for the country and people of Beasiga.” There’s a whoop out in the crowd that Alex can identify as Reggie’s and he can’t stop himself from grinning at his friend. However, the cheer from Reggie starts the rest of the crowd, and now the rest of them are cheering and clapping as well. Alex watches, waiting for them to quiet down. When they do, he looks over to his grandmother and smiles. It’s easier than he could have ever imagined to say, “Moving forward, I will be Alexander Charles Taylor Mercer, Prince of Beasiga.”

Once more, cheers rise from the crowd in front of him. His grandmother walks up beside him and he steps out from behind the podium to meet her. She surprises him when she pulls him in to a hug in front of all these people, but he returns it without any hesitance.

When she pulls away, there’s a man waiting beside them, a royal purple and white mantle held in his arms. His grandmother takes it from the man and turns to Alex. He leans down so she can drape it over his shoulders. It weighs heavy on his shoulders and while he’s leaning down next to her he mutters, “do I have to wear this thing often?”

“Just for the next few minutes. Then you won’t see it again until your coronation.”

“Oh, thank god.”

His grandmother laughs and he stands back up, standing beside her with his shoulders tall and proud. The audience is still cheering—he can pick out Luke, Reggie, Julie, and Flynn’s voices in particular—and there are cameras flashing as news reporters get photographs for their articles. There’s a loud whooping from off to the side, separate from the crowd, and Alex looks over to see Willie cupping his hands around his mouth, cheering. He laughs, beaming at his boyfriend who returns the expression right back, and Alex feels on top of the world.

Dinner is served in the ballroom after that, which sends a wave of guilt through Alex as he knows the kitchens plan meals down to the minute, and his delay must have thrown them off horribly. Even so, the food is wonderful and Alex gets to sit with Willie, his band, and Flynn—or, sorry, his “honored guests.” His grandmother is sat at the table next to him with John, Alden, another commercial attaché, and Jeffry and Daniel. She sends him looks every few minutes, especially when Luke or Reggie get too loud, but they’re never bad, merely amused.

After dinner he’s passed from reporter to reporter while the tables and chairs are cleared out of the ballroom and the floor is swept. Alex imagines that it’s going to take forever, but to his surprise it only takes about fifteen minutes between all the staff working. So he only gets to talk to about five reporters, each for about three minutes, and then he’s being taken back to the hall so he can enter with his grandmother separately.

The music playing is an even tempo, one that Alex has become accustomed to dancing to over the past month and a half. When he and his grandmother enter together, right away his eyes begin searching for Willie. He can’t find him even by the time they reach the center of the room, so he releases her hand and leaves her to go off dancing with whoever has approached her and begins walking circles. He has a flash of anxiety that Willie might have left—maybe Willie didn’t want to be seen with Alex as a couple in front of so many cameras? Or even he knew Alex’s dad was here, maybe he didn’t want to upset the man? Or maybe he realized—

The crowd parts to the left of Alex and Willie steps out. Alex’s heart flutters in his chest and he feels the smile take over his face, sees Willie match it.

They approach each other slowly, not hesitantly, just taking their time to look at each other, which Alex feels like he hasn’t done yet. Willie is in a maroon suit with grey accents and a white under shirt. It’s not fitted to him—not the way that Alex’s is, the way Alex’s almost hugs him. Willie’s is a bit big, a bit baggy, but still fits him well enough that you wouldn’t notice if you weren’t staring. His hair is down, falling over his shoulders and coming to rest right above where his ribs begin, and Alex reaches out to grab a piece of the end of his hair, twirling it on his finger. “You look good,” he says.

“Just noticing?”

“Do you forget I was having my crisis earlier?”

Willie grins. “Right, the minor one.”

“Very minor, it all turned out okay in the end.”

“Good to hear.”

Alex drops the strand of hair he’s holding and steps back, bowing deliberately. Willie smiles and copies him. They straighten up and step into each other’s arms, relaxing into their holds.

“They’re taking pictures of us,” Willie murmurs and Alex can hear the clicking of the cameras too. “Everyone is going to know by tomorrow.”

“I’m glad. I don’t want anyone to feel like I was hiding this from them,” he says. “And I certainly don’t want to hide you.” He presses his lips against Willie’s forehead and sighs. He tips his head forward so his nose is pressed against Willie’s hairline. “Just think,” he whispers, and his voice is barely audible to even the two of them over the music. “Tomorrow plenty of people all over the world are going to see these pictures and realize how fucking in love with you I am.”

Willie pulls away from Alex and stares up at him with bright eyes full of… full of so much. Full of trust, full of care, full of respect, full of warmth, full of acceptance, full of want. “I’m gone on you,” Willie says, reaching up and dragging Alex’s head down for a kiss. Alex goes, and they keep it chaste and appropriate for the venue, but. It was needed.

When they pull apart, Alex pulls Willie closer to him again and Willie buries his face in Alex’s shoulder as they abandon all pretenses of the traditional ballroom dance and decide to simply sway together. Alex holds Willie and looks up, looking around the room to find nearly every eye on them. The eyes of his friends, his family, the press, diplomatic leaders from around the world, and his new country’s government leaders are all on him and Willie. They just saw them kiss. He laughs and thinks, with a sense of déjà vu, yeah, he’d stare at whoever was kissing Willie too.

No fire burns in his gut, no panic wells in his veins.

#willex #willex fic #willex fanfic #jatp fic #jatp fanfic #ysmfinb #my writing

[murderoustedbear]

War (unfinished but I plan to finish it)

My neighboring kingdom, Atarius, has been thriving for years under the rule of an unknown queen. None of her people have seen her face except those in her palace and they are sworn to secrecy. She is known for turning down marriage offers but I plan to win her over. If she does refuse my hand in marriage, I’ll over throw her.

Years ago, my kingdom was grand, as big as hers. However we went to war with a country suffering the plague. As men came back, they spread the illness. Our numbers are low however, her’s are lower. The plague hit them harder than us. There’s a rumor that the queen herself helped nurse her people and was killed from the plague. Of course that would leave the question of who is ruling. No one knows. All I know is her population is about half of mine. With both our kingdoms we could conquer half of Ruasiae.

A knock rings against my chamber doors as I dream of the unknown queen’s face. “Come in.” I roll my eyes.

My royal advisor enters, studying me. “Sorry to disturb you, Majesty.”

“Quill! My dear friend! You are no disturbance.”

He nods, “There’s been news that Atarius’ queen will be holding a ceremony. Invites have been sent out to several of her neighboring kingdom’s.”

At this, he has my full attention, “Ceremony? Of what sort?”

“I haven’t the slightest, sir. I believe she is looking to seek an alliance with some. It’s quite an intelligent strategy on her behalf. She’s had no problems with us, never lifted a finger to harm us nor the other countries. Rather kept to herself and her country. A spy from another kingdom has returned and has news regarding Ityal.”

“The news?”

“He’ll speak only to you, sir.”

“Send him up!” I demand, a bit too harshly. I look at the ridges on my nails hinting at the anxiety they’ve fallen victim to.

Minutes later, Quill has returned with the spy in tow, “Here’s your spy.” He leaves, shutting the door. My mouth goes dry. I can’t believe I called her a him.

“What news do you bring?”

The fragile maiden grins, golden eyes shining, “You’ll love this, sire.” She sits at the end of my bed. “I’m sure you’ve heard the news, the queen of Atarius has sent out invites for a ceremony. She’s seeking to save herself and her dear kingdom. A week ago, Ityal’s widower king sought to court the queen. She shut him down faster than lightning strikes the ground. Well he sucks at taking rejection and so he began plotting to destroy her kingdom. However, a servant that stayed in her castle for a while when he was there had grown fond of her due to her kindness and sent her a warning. She’s trying to find a way to keep her kingdom safe and if she dies in the process, someone to rule for her.”

I consider this. If she turns down my proposal and becomes allies with another country, it may become impossible to overthrow her. “Thank you, um… What’s your name?”

She didn’t answer but instead said, “I was there, at her palace.”

“Did you see her? Tell me about her.” I’m studying the spy now.

“She never spoke, rather communicated with hand symbols that a guard would translate. Her dresses never revealed any part of her body and weren’t tight at anypoint. Her face remained covered the entire time. She didn’t eat or drink around us. She wore gloves. She always had the same guards with her.” I frowned, hoping to have known what she looked like. “She was kind though. We went with her once to check on her kingdom. She doesn’t have any beggars, they all live in cabins and everyone has a job. Everyone contributes to the kingdom. She’s loved by her people. Children will run up and hug her and she hugs them back. She’s an honorable queen, the type that loves her people. The only reason she cares to continue ruling is because if someone else were to rule in her place, they may harm them. She’s compassionate.”

“Good qualities of a queen. Why hasn’t she married yet, do you know?” I inquire, considering the possibilities.

“Many reasons. She doesn’t want someone controlling her and ruling her people, tearing down what she’s built and she feels, marriage will lead to that. She wishes to not have children. She refuses to be married to a man who has a mistress or multiple mistresses in some cases. She hasn’t found someone she loves and will only marry for love.”

“So, if I want to marry her, I need to stay loyal, let her rule her people how she wishes, not pressure her into having children, and get her to love me?” That won’t be too hard.

She scoffed, “You have to love her too! There’s more to it all. She knows how many queens have been treated by their husbands and she want to be treated differently!” She walked out the room without another word. The last thing I saw as the door slammed was fire red hair swiching about.

At this point, I like this challenge.

Two days later

I’m dining alone in my chambers when Quill knocks.

“Enter.”

“Sire, a messenger has arrived.”

“Well let them in.”

A girl, no older than fifteen enters. Her blonde hair braided down her back. “King Arawn of Omirran, I bring news from Queen Myla of Atarius.” She stares me in the eyes, fearless.

“Go on.” It’s unsettling, having a servant look me in the eyes however, I cannot harm her as she is not mine and I do not want to be on Queen Myla’s bad side.

She clears her throat, “You are invited to celebrate the Queen’s twenty-fourth birthday in her palace for a fortnight. The ceremony begins overmorrow. You may bring with you a guest of whomever you like. Please note, upon reaching Atarius’ gates, you and your guests will be searched of weapons. Any weapons held by you and your party will be confiscated until you leave to ensure the safety of the people, the queen, other guests, and yourself. Please be ready to show the guards your invitation in order to be let in the gates.” The girl hands Quill the invite and leaves without another word.

Two weeks. I have two weeks to be in her palace. Can I charm her? Make her love me?

I call in every girl that lives or works in the palace, including the spy. The spy describes Queen Myla and the girls collaborate together a list of possible ways to charm her. All I need is her to develop a crush on me, I’ll propose and she’ll say yes, we’ll get married right away and my kingdom will be expanded.

The challenge is actually making this happen as there’s not much to work with. I don’t know know much about her. However, the strategy is to focus on personality. Originally, I was going to shower her with expensive gift, but everyone pointed out that every other suitor has tried this or will try it and she has turned them all down. I hope this works. I can’t afford to fail.

As the palace begins for my departure to Atarius, I decide that I shall bring her a single gift. I shall bring her a dragon flower from .the palace gardens. One that is yet to bloom so it shall bloom that night.

Two days later

On the day we’re to set out, I wake up before dawn. My thoughts are beasts, tearing my mind to shreds. There’s no way I’ll make her fall for me. No way I can charm her. Whatever higher deity that exists out there in the universe has shown me that.

My entire life, I’ve always believed there’s a higher power who sends us visions in the night. Whoever, whatever, this higher power is, they’ve sent me one and I know better than to question the message they convey.

I call Quill to my chambers and describe my dream. “I was there, with her. The more I tried to charm her, the harder it became. She grew cold in her heart towards me. I tried to tame her heart and call her mine but she did not wish to be trapped. She married me for the same of her sanity and then murdered me. Like a tigress in captivity, never meant to be tamed.”

“Sire,” Quill breaks my thoughts, “Perhaps you’re not seeing the true meaning… Only she can make herself love you. Love is not just an emotion… Love is a choice and she must choose to love you. No one and no thing can make her love you. Just be yourself and let her find you herself.”

This is why Quill is my advisor and dearest friend. He is wise and is always good with advice.

The day drags on as Quills words echo in my brain. Let her fall in love with me on her own. Why does that even make sense? I mean, I know everyone will put on a mask and treat her kindly and act like who they think she’d like so the best way to let her fall for me is to do the opposite.

We arrive at Queen Myla’s palace as dusk begins to blanket the world with her comforting shadows. I can see rulers from neighboring countries gathering to meet the mysterious queen.

Palace guards escort us to the throne room and none can help but marvel at the beauty. The floors are polished black marble filled with golden webs. Obsidian columns tower above, cradling a ceiling of stars. The illusion of stars came from gems embedded in the black ceiling. One would wonder how Queen Myla lit her throne room but she managed. Torches lounged on every column and their glow reflected off the precious stones. My gaze wandered to the front of the room. Two steps up led to a white marble platform that held a silver throne. Seated on the throne was who I assumed to be the queen. Her dark gown flowed to the floor, hiding her legs and feet. As my eyes traveled up, I noticed her gown was not form fitting at all but loose as my spy had described. Her hands were gloved with silver fabric and resting on the arms of her throne. My eyes came to rest on the veil hiding her face. Not an inch of skin could be seen.

Guards flanked her, staring ahead. My eyes noticed a guard standing rather close to the queen, closer than the others. I wonder why.

Queen Myla begins signing something and the guard who was close to her begins to translate the signs. “Welcome all, the queen is delighted to see many of you here and looks forward to celebrating with you. Since Myla has become queen, the country of Atarius has become reclusive and relied on only herself and her people but now it is time to befriend her neighbors and come out of her reclusive state.”

A man from another country responds, “If Myla wants to befriend us, why won’t she talk herself? Or show her face at least?”

The guard’s hand slid to the hilt of his sword, “First off, it is Queen Myla to everyone here, you are in no position to disregard her title or disrespect her. She welcomed you into her kingdom. Secondly, watch your tongue or have it cut from your head. I will not hesitate to show you how to respect a lady. Finally, she owes no one an explanation. If you cannot respect that alone, you are free to leave and never return.”

Queen Myla had yet to move in response to the man’s comment. Her hand glided through the air to the guard’s arm. I watched as she traced something on his bicep. The guard only nodded and relaxed. Did they have a relationship? Is that why she rejected all?

As the night waltzed on, Queen Myla’s voice was never heard, but rather the guard voiced her words for her. I noted that she didn’t eat nor drink. Why? What was her reason for keeping her face covered?

At some point, my curiosity got the best of me. “Your majesty,” I began, “I mean no disrespect but I am dreadfully curious.”

Her head bowed for a moment, an invitation to ask my question.

“Why do you hide your face? Why do you not speak? Again, I mean no disrespect.”

Her hands glided through the air and the guard translated, “I hide my face for many reasons. One is for respect. If I were to show my feminine features, men would not respect me as much as they do, though I am still respected less than men are. By hiding my face, you have no way of seeing the femininity in my face, forcing you to ignore how I may look and respect me. This is why my dresses aren’t like dresses of women in other courts. As for my voice, I was mocked for my voice long before I became silent. It will not happen again.”

“Mocked? How?” I watched the guard, careful not to cross any boundaries.

“I was the only heir to the throne. My voice was soft and fragile. The court used to mock my voice, sneering at how soft it was. I was told to marry a man with a deep, strong voice as soon as I came of age so I wouldn’t have to make any decrees and would be taken more seriously.”

“Were you ever married?”

She shakes her head, “I didn’t wish to be married.”

I nodded, it was understandable. I didn’t want to be married either when I first became king. Probably for different reasons but nonetheless, I could understand. “Queen Myla, I brought you a gift.”

The guard rolls his eyes. He must’ve been tired of all her suitors bringing gifts.

I produced a small box made of midnight valadium. As I stand, I feel everyone’s eyes drift to the box. I thank my blacksmith for being good at crafting. As I handed her the box, the guard stiffens, watching me. I return to my seat and watch as he whispers to her.

Her head bows and she traces on his arm again. What did they say? Her hands glide over the lid and I know she’s admiring the box. I was right to have him engrave flowers. I noticed he had added a small proverb on the lid as well but it’d been too late to say anything. As her hands whirled through the air, the guard spoke, “Queen Myla says the box is beautiful. She loves the inscription as it rings true. Thank you kindly.”

“What’s the inscription?” Another guest asked. We’d all formally introduced ourselves earlier however, I hadn’t cared to pay attention. I was too busy admiring the castles interior. The queen had taste.

“Where there is love, there is hope.” The guard answered. I could hear venom in his voice. He was not pleased.

“Queen Myla,” I smiled, “Open the box, please?”

She nodded and opened it. Her gasp was barely audible as she gently lifted the flower out of the box. My heart gunned, hoping she was happy.

The yellow flower was just beginning to bloom. “I hope you like it. Happy birthday.” I beamed. Why was I happy over this. It was a simple flower as a gift. Well, a flower and a box.

She carefully set the flower down, and signed to a young servant. The servant nodded and left. Then she began signing to me which the guard translated, the venom dripping from his voice, “Queen Myla adores the gift. Flowers have always been among her favorite things.”

“I bet the royal garden is huge then, and lovely?”

Laughter poured from his throat, “No, we don’t have a royal garden.”

“Why not?” I tilted my head to the left.

“Queen Myla simply does not wish to have one. Her taxes are low so she doesn’t take from her people. She bought all the materials from the people of Atarius to give back to them. She believes having a garden strictly for herself would be a waste. However, the entire kingdom has a community garden. Everyone is allowed to eat the food grown and use the herbs. Farmers help tend to it.”

The next few days, we toured Atarius. The kingdom was beautiful. Most kingdoms have run down homes towards the boarders but not Atarius. Even the poorest had decent homes. I learned Queen Myla hated the idea of anyone living in poverty and did her best to ensure no one did. In return, her people were loyal. Many brought her gifts that varied from flowers to fresh baked pastries to jewelry.

She held nightly parties in which the entire kingdom attended or sent their blessings. The parties weren’t grand like others I’d attended. There was no fancy band playing music. No one to cater to you at the snap of a finger. There was a buffet of food prepared by the citizens. Even the queen had pitched in to help prepare the food.

Still, her voice was never heard. She hadn’t even slipped up and said anything. It seemed the entire kingdom knew her hand language. I suppose her voice wasn’t necessary if her people knew her language. I decided to learn her language in order to communicate with her.

On the fourth night of my stay, I asked her for a dance which she graciously accepted. As we danced, I spoke. I knew she wouldn’t respond vocally which was a bit disappointing. “I admire the way you run your kingdom. You run it well if you’re loved so much by your people. You said you were told your voice would make it harder to run a country. I don’t believe that. Your people love you dearly, I believe you’d still be respected.”

I tried to see through the veil that covered her face but even still, as close as I was I could not. “Do you think, while I am here, you could teach me your hand language?”

She nearly headbutt me when she nodded. Her eagerness was endearing. I wanted to know who silenced her and make them pay for their crime. She was nothing but admirable, how could someone be so cruel?

The days bled on and I spent every spare moment focusing on learning the hand language. I learned to say “thank you”, “please” , “hello”, and other simple phrases first. After a day of learning, I’d learned a bit. It was quite simple, though she had to slow her movements for me so I could keep up. By the end of the week, I could translate small sentences.

One day, as we were walking through the town, she and her guard were teaching me. He grew impatient and snapped at me. That’s when she slipped, “Warin! Patience!”

Two words. She silenced and excused herself. I watched as she left. Why had she snapped.

#stories #war #short story #unfinished #creative writing #writing #writers #writers on tumblr #writing community #writeaway #writing inspiration #young writer #amediting #amwriting #wip excerpt #writers block #write more #advice

[adenei]

Always a Bridesmaid, Never a Bride - Chapter 5

AO3 || FFN

Ron

Ginny: Chelsea Cake Shop. 14:30.

Me: Wow, thanks for the short notice. Not like I had other plans or anything.

Ginny: Oh, shut it. I know you covered your weekly wedding last night.

Me: So I can’t have a personal life, then?

Ginny: LOL don’t make me laugh.

Ginny: One more thing...you know how you use a pen name for your professional career? 

Me: ...and you use one in your personal life sometimes so people don’t know you’re a famous female football star?

Ginny: Yeah…

I did not like where this was headed so I pressed the call button and put the phone to my ear.

“Please don’t!” she answered.

“Ginny, do not tell me that your fiancée only knows you as Jenny.”

“What was I supposed to do? My maid of honor, the one who introduced us, only knows me as Jenny. I couldn’t just drop a bomb like that in front of them both! I care about her friendship too much!”

“Obviously not enough if you’ve been lying about your identity for five years. Are you really that distrusting of people?”

“No! It’s not that. It’s just— Look, my schedule has had me all over the place with training and games that this is the first off season we’ve spent a lot of time together. I know she’s my neighbor, but with our schedules we were lucky to meet up once a month when I was in town. It was just easier, and she became too good of a friend, and a constant in my London life that I didn’t want to jeopardize that.”

“And now you’ve got a maid of honor and a fiancée who think you’re Jenny Warrington and not Ginny Weasley. That’s great Gin, really great.”

“Can you please just cover for me today? If the press finds out that Ginny Weasley’s getting married, it’s going to be a shit storm. I have to keep the cover.”

“I can’t believe I’m agreeing to this.”

“Thanks, Ron.” She sounded relieved, but I was still on edge.

“Just be careful. There’s a lot of people who might get hurt from this web of lies you’ve created, including yourself. So don’t fuck it up anymore, alright?”

Ginny was rarely ever quiet, but she didn’t respond to me right away. That’s how I knew I’d gotten through to her. At least that’s what I hoped.

“I know,” she finally said. “I’ll see you in a few hours.”

“See you,” I said as I hung up the phone.

~o~

I walked into the bustling cake shop and reminded myself that this was business. It was not a family visit, and the two people Ginny said she was going to be with did not know that I was her brother. They’d have to be really dull to not realize it when they saw the two of us next to each other, though. The only major difference was our eye color and height.

As I looked around in search of my sister, I noticed another familiar face. What in the bloody hell was Hermione doing here? Maybe she was with her newly engaged friend, but of all the bakeries in London, what were the odds they’d also choose this one? I forgot to keep looking for my sister as I stopped to watch her conversing with the baker. It seemed like she knew him rather well, which made me wonder if other brides also used this place for their wedding cakes on her recommendation.

I finally saw Ginny come into view from behind a table with several five tier cake displays on it. She was holding hands with a relatively scrawny man with messy black hair and glasses. He didn’t look like her normal type, so I guess that could be a good thing.

As Ginny made her way over to Hermione, I felt my eyes widen a bit. No fucking way. Maybe she thinks Hermione works there. Yeah! That was it! Except that it wasn’t; Ginny looked up and saw me standing there and waved me over. Fuck.

“Oh good, you’re here!” I heard her call.

I watched as Hermione turned around to see who she was talking to. She froze and her face became pale. Ginny’s fiancée seemed to have gotten a phone call, and he dismissed himself briefly.

“Hermione, there’s someone I’d like you to meet!” I heard Ginny tell her as she grabbed Hermione’s arm and pulled her over to me. “This is Billy Weston! I spoke to him yesterday about covering our wedding, and he agreed! I was honestly surprised he had the opening in three weeks!”

“Three weeks?” I said as my eyes widened. 

She shot me a death glare, and I knew it was a warning to not blow her cover. In my defense, she left that part out in this morning’s conversation. So that was on her.

“Yes, three weeks. Remember? I told you that on the phone when we arranged for you to meet us here today.” She bulged her eyes out at me in much the same way she did when Mum pissed her off.

“Oh, right. How could I have forgotten. My apologies, Miss Warrington,” I said in my most polite business voice.

I flashed a grin at them as my eyes settled on Hermione. Her expression was a mixture of confusion and anger. This probably wasn’t good.

“Anyways,” Ginny forged on with the conversation, “this is Hermione. She’s my maid of honor, and a wedding connoisseur. She absolutely loves your column! A lot of my own ideas and inspiration have come from the articles she’s clipped and saved from your writing.”

 There was sparkle in my sister’s eyes as she basically told me Hermione was obsessed with my alter ego. I couldn’t help but smile even wider at Hermione, who was shaking her head vigorously at Ginny. This was going to be fun.

“Well, it’s always nice to meet a fan. I’m flattered,” I said as I held out my hand.

She looked down at my hand in disgust before her eyes shot back up and matched my own. “You can’t be Billy Weston. He’s so imaginative and romantic and well spoken, and you’re so—”

“So what? Please, I’m on the edge of my seat here,” I chided. I couldn’t help that it was so easy to get her going.

“So cynical and negative and—and that’s not even your name! Unless you lied to me when you introduced yourself as Ron,” Hermione said with a huff.

“I am Ron Weasley. Billy Weston’s just my pen name. Can’t have all the crazy column lovers like you be looking me up and stalking me, now can I?”

“Wait, you two know each other?” Ginny said, slightly alarmed.

“Barely,” Hermione answered before I could explain. “We only met at a wedding a couple of weeks ago,” she explained to Ginny. “Can I speak to you in private for a moment?” she rounded on me through gritted teeth.

Oh, here we go, I thought, as I followed her back out the door. I gave Ginny a sympathetic shrug on my way out. The door had barely closed behind us when Hermione let loose.

“You lied to me!”

“No, I didn’t,” I responded simply.

“Yes, you did! You lied about who you were at the wedding—”

“No, I didn’t. I introduced myself using my given name. I am Ron Weasley, and I am a writer. You never asked what I write about, so I never told you.”

Who the hell does she think she is? Telling me that I’m the one who lied! I felt my ears growing hot as I was trying to control the anger. I knew it wouldn’t be good for either of us if I lost my temper. All the progress I’d made the other night at the bar was already in jeopardy. I needed to focus on the story.

When I looked back at her following my retort, I knew I’d gotten through to her because it took her a moment to regain her thoughts and respond. Ha! One point for Weasley.

“So, which is the real you, then? Are you secretly a romantic on the inside and you just pretend to be a love-hating pain in the arse? Or do you really just hate weddings that much and are ironically stuck writing them?”

That was a loaded question, and one I was not about to answer truthfully outside of a bakery. “What does it matter? I was hired to write commitments, and if I get paid, then of course I’m going to do it. Not everyone has to love their job.”

She let out a groan of frustration. “Do you even know how to give a straight answer? Or is that part of your journalism training, too?”

“Guess you’ll have to continue getting to know me to find out. Now, technically I’m here to interview Jenny, so if you don’t mind, I’d like to get back inside.” 

I could see my sister watching us through the glass with that dark haired guy staring awkwardly. Oh, right, that’s Hermione’s boss, too. For a city with over seven million people, this was turning out to be a small, small world.

Hermione

I thought weekends were supposed to be fun and relaxing. This one was anything but that. The cake tasting appointment was a disaster. Not for Jenny and Harry! No, for me. I finally got to meet my wedding columnist idol, and he was the one man I loathed more than anything in the world.

Maybe not quite loathe, but very close. After all, we did have a good time the other night. But he lied to me! He had every opportunity to tell me who he really was, but he didn’t. And then Jenny had to go and blab my secret that I loved his articles! Worst day ever. 

I put the last plate back in the cupboard when there was a knock on my door. It was probably Jenny. Not bothering to look through the peephole I opened the door. It wasn’t. No, it was the last person I had any desire to see. Seriously? What the hell was he doing here?

“Go away,” I said as I tried to shut the door in Ron’s face. 

“Come on, you’re not even going to ask what I’m doing here?” he asked.

“No. I know what you’re doing here. You’ve come to lie again,” I retorted.

“For the last time, I didn’t lie. Come on, Hermione, I just have a few questions to ask about the bride and groom, that’s all.”

“And you could have easily done that earlier today,” I told him. 

“Last I checked, you took off before I even had the chance. And since the wedding’s in three weeks, we’ve got a lot to cover in a short amount of time.”

I had to admit, Ron was really clever when it came to persuasion. Not that I was surprised; he was a journalist, after all. Knowing he wasn’t going to leave me alone, I opened the door a bit wider to let him in. I made sure to shoot an eye roll in his direction to let him know I wasn’t pleased.

“Thanks! I can see that ‘saying no’ thing is really going well for you,” he said with a smirk. 

Damn him and that lopsided grin. I walked around to the sofa and sat down and he followed, sitting on the opposite side. It wasn’t in my nature to be inhospitable. Even if I didn’t like the guest.

“I’ll have you know I almost said no to being Jenny’s maid of honor until she gave me this bangle,” I said, holding up my wrist for him to see.

Ron held a voice recorder up to his mouth and clicked it. “Maid of honor folds easily when bribed,” he said.

I quickly grabbed it from his hand. “No, the maid of honor actually thought the gesture was really sweet and genuine. Of course she was going to say yes to one of her best friends!”

Ron snorted and I gave him a disgusted look. “Just ask your questions, will you?”

“How did the bride and groom meet?”

I sighed. Because of my stupidity, I thought resentfully. “Do you remember the night you brought me my Filofax at the club? I invited Jenny to join me and they saw each other from across the room. It looked like one of those ‘love at first sight’ meetings that you see in movies.”

“Huh. The hopeless romantic painting a perfect picture. What would you call our meeting, then? Wasn’t that some sort of noble act on my part to help the damsel in distress?”

Ron was looking at me in what appeared to be complete seriousness. I couldn’t tell if he was joking or not as I felt my jaw drop. After a few moments of awkward silence I burst out into laughter. 

“You can’t be serious! Sure, it was chivalrous. You almost had me, too, until you started sputtering your wedding hate nonsense in the taxi. I would hardly call you being the first one I saw when I woke up and helping me home ‘love at first sight.’” 

He laughed along with me. “That was harsh. I did manage to get a date out of it, though.”

“It was a moment of weakness,” I said defensively.

I watched Ron look away as he shook his head at my strong headed nature. I felt my heart tug against my chest as I noticed how attractive his smile was in profile. No...there was no way I was going to let myself feel anything but annoyance and dislike toward him.

“So, what else do you want to know?” I asked. 

He looked back up at me, and I could see the thoughts whirring in his mind through his eyes. Before he asked me anything I saw him freeze as he looked over my shoulder. I had a feeling I knew exactly what he was looking at.

“What is that?” he asked, and was out of his seat before I could respond.

“Nothing!” I said as I leapt up to try and beat him to the closet.

I was barely able to slip between him and the half open doors. It was a constant battle to keep them shut because it was overflowing. As I tried to push my weight against them, Ron leaned in and put his arm against one of the doors, wedging it open against my back. I knew it was a lost cause to even try and hide it, especially after he caught me in two weddings a few weeks ago, so I slid out of the way and let him see the closet’s contents.

“Holy shit,’ he said with a breathy laugh. “You kept them all? How many are in here anyway?”

“That doesn’t matter!” I said defensively.

“What is with brides? This whole mentality that they have to make their bridesmaids wear dresses that are the ugliest thing ever so that they look good? Aren’t they supposed to pick their friends? I don’t get it,” Ron said, shaking his head.

“That’s not what it’s about at all! Every wedding has some sort of theme, and every bride has some sort of vision that they want the dresses to match. It’s different for everyone! And they’re not all bad! Some of them are really elegant.”

It wasn’t a lie. There were some I enjoyed wearing. Others deserved to be burned, but Ron didn’t need to know that. 

“I dare you to show me one that’s not bad,” he challenged.

I laughed in his face. “One? Please, that’s easy!”

I shooed him away as I turned to the closet and dug my way through the tulle and satin, finally deciding which one would eat his words.

“Ha! See? This one was really nice!” I held the hanger with the dress up against my body as he cocked an eyebrow in my direction.

“I don’t know...I think I’d need to see it on,” he said contemplatively.

We stood there staring at each other for a moment, until I finally relented. I wanted to prove him wrong, and if this was the only way to do it, then so be it. 

“Fine. I’ll be right back.”

I marched into my room with the dress and shut the door. What was I doing? A man was over at my flat who I didn’t know very well, and now I was trying on a bridesmaid dress to prove a point? Ron Weasley was so infuriating, yet when I stopped to really think about it, I was kind of enjoying his company. Arguing just seemed to be our thing. 

I zipped up the dress against my back and turned to look in the mirror that was mounted on the back of my bedroom door. It was a strapless black bodice, and the skirt was made of multicolored tulle that splayed out like lightweight feathers. The colors were a mix of pastel pinks and soft blue-greens that cascaded to the floor. A large black bow connected the black top with the skirt. 

Taking a deep breath, I opened the door and walked back out into my living area, where I saw Ron still investigating the closet full of dresses. 

“Well?” I asked.

He turned around to look at me as I posed with my arms out in a question. Before I realized what he was doing, he held up a digital camera and snapped a picture of me in the dress. I didn’t even know he had a camera.

“Hey!” I said in protest.

Before I could ask why he’d taken the picture, he said, “You think that’s not bad? Hermione, you look like a peacock!” He began sniggering as he motioned for me to turn around in the dress.

“Well, I think the colors complement each other well,” I said.

“Come on, Hermione, really? Would you ever wear that dress again?” He gave me a knowing look.

My intention was to dig my heels in and insist that I’d already worn it multiple times. But one look into his eyes and I couldn’t lie, so I faltered. “I—I’d wear it if it were shorter. It might be cute for a cocktail party, or maybe a club night,” I said as I shrugged.

“See? You know I’m right,” he teased. At least, I thought he was teasing.

“Well, this is definitely not the worst one,” I told him. 

If he wanted a show, I’d give him a show! I turned back toward the closet and grabbed the most hideous dress I could remember, and marched right back to my room to change. “You’d better prepare yourself for this one!” I called.

“I can hardly wait!” he responded.

The dress I chose was a two tone mermaid style that opened up to the knees in the front. The underside was the same yellow-green chiffon as the bust that connected to a halter strap. There was a ruffle of fabric down the bodice to the center of the skirt, which was a bright ocean blue, with sequins that outlined mermaid scales. When I walked out of the room, I was pretty sure Ron’s jaw hit the floor, and not in a good way.

“What did you do to piss off that bride?” was all he managed to say.

“It was a destination wedding! In the Mediterranean, on the beach.”

“Was it a themed wedding?” Ron asked seriously as he took another picture.

“No!” I laughed. “You want a themed bridesmaid dress? I have plenty! Holiday themes have been popular.”

“What? No way. You’re not serious,” Ron said, shaking his head.

“Oh, but I am,” I said as I began pulling out all the holiday themed dresses and carried them into my room.

First, I showed him the Halloween themed dress. It was a bright pumpkin orange with a black spider web overlay, followed by a kelly green dress with matching shoes for St. Patrick’s Day. “The bride was from the States and the groom from Ireland,” I explained when Ron gave me a questioning look.

There was a Christmas themed wedding I’d taken part in a couple years ago where the dresses were made of cotton with a Christmas plaid pattern. The last I had was a fourth of July themed dress that I walked out in last. The upper half was royal blue and the skirt were alternating red and white vertical stripes.

“I’m sorry, are we in the United States or England?” Ron asked as he looked around at his surroundings.

I couldn’t help but laugh. “It was a last minute cancellation of a bridesmaid for a friend’s cousin. I flew to Tennessee for the weekend and took part in the most—” I had a hard time remembering the word, but suddenly it came to me, “redneck style wedding.”

“Redneck? Do I even want to know?”

“Their words, not mine! It’s used to describe rural Americans, I think. I’m not really sure. They were a different type of people, let me tell you. If you could have seen the wedding guests!” I did my best to give him the best possible depiction of that particular wedding, but I think I only succeeded in confusing him more.

“So, which holiday wedding was your favorite?” he asked as I walked over to the kitchen to grab some glasses and a bottle of wine. Alcohol was necessary if we were going to go through that entire closet.

“Well the St. Paddy’s Day wedding was quite the good time, as you can imagine. The Halloween wedding was, too, for that matter. Christmas was hard because I didn’t get to see my family, and if I can avoid going back to the States for a wedding, I’d be perfectly fine with that.”

“Well, they’re all certainly special. Though, I’m surprised...no Valentine’s Day wedding? Of all the ones you’ve been a part of?”

He was right! I’d totally forgotten about that one. I stood up quickly from my spot on the sofa and ran to the closet. “Thanks for reminding me. This one’s a real gem.”

I walked back out minutes later in a bright fire engine red dress with a plunging neckline that revealed more than I was comfortable with. As if that wasn’t enough, there was a slit in the front of the long evening gown that came up to mid thigh. I looked briefly in the mirror to make sure everything was covered as appropriately as possible, and ran a hand through my hair before making my entrance

“Bloody hell,” Ron said. “That was for a Valentine’s Day wedding? Did the bride want you all to get laid after?”

“I think that was her original plan, yes,” I agreed as I felt my cheeks grow hot under his gaze.

I was a bit uncomfortable at the way he was looking at me, but there was a tiny part of me that felt empowered by the way his eyes widened at the sight of me in this dress. Like I was attractive and desirable. Before his eyes could linger too long, I grabbed another set of dresses and disappeared back into my room.

“I call this next set: the pink parade!” I said through the door, before making my appearance in the first frou-frou  dress.

“Holy ruffles!” he commented.

I didn’t blame his lack of words about the pinkish-coral strapless gown with a beaded bodice. The overly ruffled tulle skirt mimicked that of the mermaid dress with the raised skirt in the front, sans the two tone colors. The second pink dress was two tone, with zebra stripes on the bust and the underside of the skirt. 

“Well, that one did have potential. The animal print really ruins it,” Ron said with a laugh.

I wasn’t sure if it was the wine or just my ability to somehow let loose around him, but I found myself making claw motions with my hands and pretending to ‘rawr’ in a sexy way. Yeah, I needed to stop that before I did something later that I might regret. The next pink dress looked like it was straight out of a mashup between the eighties and the movie, ‘Cinderella.’ it was long sleeved with extra poofy shoulders, and the ugliest bodice style I’d ever seen. Oversized bows donned the skirt, which looked like it needed layers upon layers of crinoline to fill it out.

“Where’s the hoop?” Ron asked when I came out in it.

“Of all there is to comment on this dress as is, and you ask me where the hoop is?” I responded curiously.

“Do you really want my other opinions on this one?”

“Nope,” I said, turning around before he could change his mind.

The last pink dress was a blush one shoulder style that would have been rather becoming if it weren’t for the skirt that looked like giant rose petals.

“You look like a cupcake,” Ron said, which made me burst out laughing.

“I thought the same thing, actually. Next up, more two tone dresses.”

“There’s more than two?” Ron asked incredulously.

I showed him the ballroom style hot pink satin outer shell with endless layers of neon yellow crinoline underneath, the orange and camouflage hunting combo with the cowboy boots, and two dual color chiffon dresses. One was a light and dark purple combo with zig zag stripes over the bodice, and the other was coral and seafoam green with a more subtle pattern. The latter needed the subtlety considering the colors clashed enough on their own.

My closet was still a third of the way full after all those dresses, but we both seemed to be having a good time, so I kept the fashion show going. There was the white lace dress, where all the bridesmaids wore white, and the bride wore color, the neon yellow-green rocker dress with the see-through skirt and fur scarf, and the periwinkle blue regency style dress complete with accessories.

“Gloves, purse, and umbrella?” Ron asked with a disbelieving look on his face.

“Accessories are important for any outfit,” I said in the most royal voice that I could muster, which sent us both into hysterics.

“What about that black ruffly one?” he asked me.

“Oh, no…” I said, pulling it off the rod and holding it up. “This one was way too short. I’m not trying it on again.”

“Ah, we haven’t reached that level of closeness yet?” Ron teased.

“Nor will we ever,” I said with a triumphant smile.

I held up the dress for Luna’s wedding that I wore last weekend, as well as the ones he saw me in for Katie and Parvati’s weddings two weekends ago. Then there were only a few remaining after that. 

The long lime green gown with the jeweled empire waist, the Renaissance fair inspired brown and gold dress, and a forest green velour maxi dress. The two remaining ones had to do with rainbow themes. There was the indigo satin floor length gown with flowered straps. And how could I forget the final dress, that was an actual rainbow colored bridesmaid gown. 

“Don’t get me wrong, I love color as much as the next person, but I think this crossed the line,” I said as Ron was shielding his eyes from me. Pretty sure you’re brighter than the sun. And that’s saying something after the lime green dress and that neon fur one.”

“Well, you don’t have to worry about being blinded anymore as that’s the last one,” I said, flopping down on the couch next to him.

“Twenty-seven dresses,” he said in disbelief. “Why would you put yourself through that torture?”

“It’s not torture for me. I genuinely enjoy helping people, and making their day special. And believe what you may, but no matter how awful some of those dresses are, I’ve made a lot of great memories in them. Plus, I’ve met a lot of amazing people,” I added before I could stop myself.

He looked at me curiously. “What do you mean? The other people in the bridal party?”

“Er, yes,” I said quickly.

“Hermione, why does it sound like that’s not true?” He really was ever the journalist, always working to uncover the truth.

And it looks like I wasn’t convincing enough.

“Because it’s not,” I admitted. “I run a side business called Wilkins Weddings. I’m essentially a bridesmaid for hire, doubling as a wedding planner for any bride that requires one or both services. That’s the real reason I’ve been in so many weddings.”

I had no idea what possessed me to say it. Wilkins Weddings was so personal to me, and I never let anyone in on the secret. Lavender only knew because I needed her sometimes for the business. My dad didn’t even know, and he was the second closest person to me. I even had the opportunity last night to tell Jenny and I still hadn’t. Yet here I was, pouring my soul out to this man who I barely knew.

“Wow. That explains a lot. So, you take all the stress off the bride all while ensuring their day is perfect? Are you trying to kill yourself before you’re 35?”

Of course he was taking the mickey out of me. I shouldn’t have said anything. “I don’t even know why I told you that. No one knows, and yet somehow I told you, of all people, and of course you’re mocking me about it!”

“Look, Hermione, I just think there’s more to life than helping other people get married and giving them their perfect day. You’ve been in all those weddings, had the chance to meet countless people, and you’re still single? Are you even trying to find your own happiness?”

I couldn’t believe him! How could he say any of that to me! He didn’t know me at all, and that just proved it. “Of course I want to find someone to love and marry and spend the rest of my life with! They’re out there, I know it. They just haven’t noticed me yet.” I grabbed both the empty wine glasses on the coffee table and brought them to the kitchen.

“It’s getting late. You should probably go,” I said.

“Right. Well, thanks for tonight. It’s been fun. I’m sure I’ll see you soon. What with the wedding and all,” Ron said as he grabbed his bag and walked to the door.

“Yeah. I can’t wait,” I said sarcastically.

He flashed me that lopsided grin of his as he let himself out. I waited a moment before I locked the door behind him. It was all fun and games until I remembered the massive mess of dresses I now had to clean up.

As I carried groups of dresses back to the closet and hung them up, I couldn’t help but wonder when I’d finally get to add a wedding dress to the mix. Figuratively of course, since I’d be sure to have my dress preserved. I’ve been ready and waiting for my own happily ever after my whole life, and I was becoming frustrated. I hoped that someday soon I wouldn’t have to spend every night alone.

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