#on retrieving him from the pit and bringing him home and then protecting this little chicken with my life

[number1mingyustan]

Apartment 222 ☾

neighbor!jeonghan x fem!reader

Warnings: kissing, cursing, fingering (f.), protected sex (missionary), explict smut, y/n is such a sweetheart bless her soul

Summary: Rule number 1: don't show up drunk at your hot neighbor's apartment if it’s 2am

Word Count: 4k

_______________________________________________

“What the fuck?” You sigh out of frustration. It’s 2am and you are very drunk trying to get into the front door of your apartment. The uber dropped you off and now that you’re home safely, you can’t actually get into your living space.

You’re fiddling with the doorknob, twisting and turning and pushing the door in. But for some reason, your key doesn’t fit in the door.

Your feet hurt from the heels you’ve been wearing all night and it’s making you more frustrated.

Why the hell is your key broken?

Suddenly, the front door opens, completely startling you. A very tired man is on the other side, wiping his eyes and clearly pissed off. Your drunk brain has still not processed what's happening, but all you know is that he's really hot and standing in your apartment?

Are you dreaming right now?

“What the fuck?” he groans.

Oh.

This is not your apartment. This is not your apartment at all and you are such an idiot. You look up at the number on the door, 222-A. Oh fuck, you live in 222-B.

You gasp. “Holy shit I’m so sorry! I thought this was my apartment and I was trying to figure out why my key wouldn’t fit and, I’m so so sorry I didn’t mean to wake you up.”

He’s silent, staring at you dumbfounded and somewhat in disbelief. He’s looking you up and down, based on your attire it’s obvious you’ve been out clubbing. He can tell you’re drunk, but sincere.

He sighs. “Yeah whatever.”

There’s a moment of silence. He leans against the door frame, arms crossed. “Do you know where you live?”

“Oh! Yes I do, I’m in 222-B,” you say much louder than intended. “That makes us neighbors!”

He blinks at you. “Uh huh.”

There’s another moment of silence. He’s waiting for you to leave him alone so he can go back to bed but you’re too drunk to pick up on social cues. He is so beyond uninterested and the alcohol is completely clouding your judgement.

Of course you didn’t know this, but despite his cold demeanor he was actually kind of intrigued by you. Granted, you were a very drunk girl who woke him up at 2am. However, you were a very pretty drunk girl that woke him up at 2am. Not to mention the little dress you were wearing looked absolutely stunning on you.

It was simple, yet sexy. All black long sleeve off the shoulder that hugged your body perfectly. He caught himself staring a bit too much through tired eyes.

Your makeup was faded from the night you had, but the smudged eyeliner actually seemed to suit you more. You had a very effortless beauty to you, he liked that.

“I’m sorry for the misunderstanding again,” you apologize once more before stumbling to your actual apartment.

His door is already closed by the time you unlock yours. You feel so bad for waking him up this late. You’ve only been living here a month and you’ve already pissed off your insanely hot neighbor.

__

It’s been two weeks since your drunk encounter with the hot neighbor and you think you’ve found the perfect way to make it up to him.

You don’t seem to be the only person confusing your apartments because when you went to retrieve your mail this morning, there was an envelope in your mailbox addressed to a Yoon Jeonghan at 222-A.

You take your mail and his before heading up the elevator to your apartment. You make a pit stop, knocking on the door of 222-A.

You wait patiently and sure enough your hot neighbor opens the door again. He’s wearing a plain white tee and some sweatpants and half his hair is styled up into a ponytail.

“It’s you again,” he leans against the door frame.

“Hi, yeah. Your mail was in my mailbox and I figured I’d bring it to you since it got mixed up,” you tell him.

“You could’ve just put it into my mailbox, but thanks,” he replies, taking the envelope out your hand.

“I know, I just felt bad about the other night and I guess I felt a little inclined to do some sort of kind gesture,” you say.

“You’re new here right?” he asks suddenly.

You nod. “Yeah, I just moved in about a month ago. I’m still not fully unpacked yet.”

“Figures,” he mumbles.

He clears his throat. “Thanks for the mail and uh, I’ll see you around.”

He doesn’t even give you time to respond before the door is closed. You’re standing at his door for another 30 seconds dumbfounded and in disbelief.

At least he said thank you?

__

“Dude your neighbor’s hot,” Joshua comments as he exists the elevator, making his way toward his friend's apartment.

Jeonghan follows his friend's eyes, seeing you struggling to fit a large box through your door. He’s in no place to disagree with his friend, anyone could see that you were beautiful.

“Yeah, kind of annoying though,” he shrugs, pulling out his keys.

“Have you talked to her?” Joshua asks.

“Yeah, I don’t know her name or anything, she just moved in like a month ago. She woke me up in the middle of the night a few weeks ago because she thought she lived in my apartment.”

Joshua smiles. "That's adorable."

"No it's not," Jeonghan frowns. "I was trying to sleep and she was pissing me off."

"Yeah but she's hot," Joshua comments. "Besides, you haven't been with anyone in forever, maybe this is your chance."

Jeonghan's jaw clenches. "Don't even think about it. Joshua I swear if you–"

Joshua smirks before disappearing from his friend's side and heading toward you.

“Do you need help?”

You pause what you’re doing, looking up at the handsome stranger in front of you. You can see the hot neighbor, Jeonghan, standing behind him.

“Oh! Yeah, thank you,” you smile. “The last of my furniture finally arrived but they couldn’t have someone come and install it for me.”

The handsome stranger nods before helping you move the large box into your apartment.

“I’m Joshua by the way,” he introduces himself.

“Y/n,” you say, giving the box one last push that wedges it between the door frame. “Do you live here too?”

“Practically,” he smiles. “Jeonghan is my best friend so I spend a lot of time here. So I hope to be seeing more of you around here.”

You smile back at him. “Maybe you will.”

_________________

You’ve successfully moved the box into your apartment with Joshua’s help. You talked a bit while he helped you, getting to know him. He's a total sweetheart.

“Do you need help setting it up too?” he asks.

“Uh, only if you want to.” you shrug. “I don’t want you to have to go out of your way for me.”

“It’s not a problem,” the boy smiles.

He peaks his head out the open doorway. “Jeonghan! Come here!”

The other boy walks over and stands in front of the open doorway. “What?”

“Help us out will you?” Joshua smirks. “It’s not very neighborly for you to lurk in the hallway while Y/n struggles with her bed.”

Jeonghan rolls his eyes. “Didn’t think she’d be struggling if she had you helping her.”

Jeonghan pushes past his friend wordlessly and begins opening the oversized box. Joshua lets out a scoff before closing your front door and joining in on the help.

__________________

Joshua and Jeonghan have been bickering for the last two hours about how to set up your bed frame. They've managed to build somewhat of a structure, but it's hard to say whether or not they've done so correctly.Unfortunately, the instructions were in German.

"Google translate said it means left," Joshua instructs.

"I don't give a fuck about what google translate says," Jeonghan rolls his eyes.

Jeonghan continues against Joshua's will, and moments later the entire structure falls to the ground with a thud.

"See!" Joshua scoffs.

"Screw this," Jeonghan rises to his feet. "It's getting late, I'm going back to my apartment. Joshua, you can go home."

"Jeonghan, you can't just break someone's bed and then storm out," Joshua points out.

Both of the boys shift their gaze to you slowly. You're standing in the middle of your bedroom awkwardly. "Uh.."

Jeonghan rolls his eyes again before reaching into his wallet in his back pocket. He pulls out a bill and extends his hand toward you. "Here's 50 bucks,"

Joshua is quick to swat his friend's hand away. "You asshole!

"I didn't do anything!" Jeonghan exclaims.

You clear your throat. "I'm gonna call the company and see if they can come in tomorrow and set up the bed... properly. Can you guys just clean this up for me?"

You excuse yourself, making the phone call from the living room. You can still hear the boys bickering and scrambling.

After finishing up your phone call, you make your way back to your bedroom. The two boys look to you. "They said someone is going to come by in between 12 and 4 tomorrow. Thanks for the help though."

"But where are you going to sleep tonight?" Joshua asks.

You shrug. "The air mattress in the living room like I have been the past month."

"No, you've been sleeping on that busted ass air mattress for a month already. Just spend a night at Jeonghan's until the professionals come back tomorrow." Joshua suggests.

"Excuse me?" Jeonghan scoffs. "Have you actually lost your mind?"

"Jeonghan don't be rude, she's your neighbor," Joshua points out.

"Just because she's my neighbor that doesn't mean she needs to be sleeping in my apartment."

"Yeah well it's your fault the bed isn't set up, so the least you can do is offer her a place to sleep for one night." Joshua explains.

"Oh yeah, you really don't have to–"

"Nonsense," Joshua cuts you off and begins pushing you toward the front door. He grabs your phone and keys for you and continues pushing you out the room. "Jeonghan's a good guy and great company, it's the least he can do."

Jeonghan groans before trailing behind as the three of you head toward 222-A. When you arrive, Joshua leaves as quickly as he enters, leaving just you and Jeonghan.

It's painfully and awkwardly silent between the two of you. The only noise filling the room is the sound of rain from outside.

Jeonghan finally breaks the silence after what feels like an eternity. "Okay, I'll take the couch and you can sleep in my bed. Bedroom is right there to the left. Bathroom is connected to my room, it's the door on the right so you can take a shower." he states plainly.

"Thank you."

Without another word, he makes his way to the couch and plops down, turning on the television for himself. You stand there for a moment, blinking and dumbfounded before venturing into his bedroom.

His room is nice. Everything is kept neat and organized, much like the rest of his apartment. What really caught your attention however, was the large trophy cabinet pressed against the wall and filled with different lego sets.

Holy shit.

You stood in front of the cabinet, admiring the different lego sets. There were castles, spaceships, helicopters, bridges, trees, ships, and more.

Your attention soon shifted to the lego sets on his dresser. There were four of them, all built into cars. You couldn't begin to imagine how expensive and time consuming this must have been. The cars by far, were the most impressive things in the room.

Who knew your cold neighbor was a lego nerd?

Your eyes are trained on the cars, fingers running along the hard plastic as you admire his work.

"Don't touch those," a voice says from behind you, completely startling you.

You retreat your hands quickly, backing away from the dresser. "Sorry," you apologize sheepishly.

He doesn't acknowledge your apology. "I thought you'd be in the shower, so I was going to come in here and get some clothes for you to wear."

He begins looking through his neatly organized drawers.

"Oh, I can just get stuff from my apartment, it's no bother," you offer.

"It's fine," he says, pulling out a t-shirt. "Just don't stain my clothes or anything."

He leaves one of his shirts and a pair of shorts on the bed for you and exits the room. You shower and dress yourself in his clothes before venturing into the livingroom. He's still seated on the couch, he looks back at you before quickly shifting his attention back to the tv.

"Um," you scratch the back of your neck. "I'm done so... thank you."

"Mhm," he doesn't shift his eyes from the tv.

"I think we got off on the wrong foot," you start.

"You think?" he brushes past you.

You sigh. "Sorry... I know me being here is inconveniencing for you, I'll just go back to my place and wash your clothes so you can have them back tomorrow. Thank you though."

You begin making your way toward the door.

"Wait," he sighs. "I'm sorry for being so mean to you." he pauses the tv.

You stop in your tracks.

"You can stay... I'm just a bit tired. I don't mind having you stay here all that much."

Relief washes over you.

"Thank you," you say before venturing back into his bedroom for the night.

_______________

It's funny how history repeats itself. For the second time in just a few weeks, you've woken Jeonghan up in middle of the night. Although this time was very different from the first.

He knocked out on the couch about a while ago, but indistinct mumbling whimpering and what sounded like crying brought him out of his slumber.

"Y/n?" he calls.

Nothing.

It's raining harder outside now. Shocks of lightning flash, illuminating the living room, often followed by loud crashes of thunder. He rises from the couch and makes his way toward the bedroom.

He calls your name again.

You don't respond. He watches the way the blanket jumps as the thunder crashes again. His face softens when he realizes, you're terrified.

"Y/n?" he takes cautious steps toward the bed.

"Jeonghan?" you question in just above a whisper. You pull the covers off your face, looking up at him with glassy eyes.

"I'm sorry," you sob. "I'm so sorry–fuck this is pathetic. I'm sorry."

He sits atop of the covers on to corner of the bed next to you. "Don't worry about it, you're fine. I get it–"

The thunder crashes again, causing your whole body to react. He feels awful.

"Do you... do you want me to sleep here with you tonight?" he asks hesitantly. "Would that make you feel better?"

"But you hate me," you mumble.

"I don't–I don't hate you," he sighs. " I told you already that I was sorry, please believe me. Honestly, I think I acted so coldly toward you because I've been kind of interested in you since you first showed up at my door and I have a bit of a defense mechanism when it comes to stuff like this."

"Are you serious? Because all my friends have been hearing on the phone is me talking about my hot neighbor for the past few weeks," you mumble into the pillow.

He smiles to himself at the thought. "Yes, I'm serious."

Wordlessly, you slide down the bed covers next to you, inviting him in. He accepts your invitation, slipping beneath the soft sheets next to you.

"Is this okay?" he whispers.

You nod. "Yeah."

His face is so close. You're mere inches apart, the slightest movement in the right direction and your nose would brush against his.

Your heart is beating so fast, yet you somehow still feel at ease. You feel comfort with him, all feelings of fear wiped from your mind. His soft orbs stare into yours, occasionally drifting down to your lips and back into your eyes.

He's silently asking for permission to kiss you. He really really wants to. Is this even the right time for that?

Fuck it.

Holy shit–

Your eyes are closed before you know it.

You're not entirely sure of what to do with yourself, so instinctively you reach out, allowing your body to act before your mind. You stop fighting the urge that is kissing Yoon Jeonghan and allow an arm to wrap around his neck and the other entangling into his hair.

His hair is so soft.

He smiles against your lips, breaking away for only a moment. "I didn't ask before I did that," he whispers. "I hope I didn't make you uncomfortable."

"Anything but," you say against his lips.

It's all the permission he needs before leaning back in. Your lips are already tingling, burning with heat and excitement from the previous contact. This time, he's relentless, mouth meeting yours with hunger and desperation.

It was as if a fire broke out inside of both of you.

Your breathing changed, growing more shallow as warmth spread across your body. He was pressed so close against you, causing something to flutter in the pit of your stomach.

You were on cloud 9.

Never had you been kissed like that, and never had someone given you that feelings but fuck, it felt so good.

You began tugging lightly at his shirt, signaling that you wanted it off. He got your message quickly, momentarily breaking the heated kiss to slip the fabric off his body.

He tosses is somewhere onto the ground, he'll find it tomorrow morning. It was the least of his concerns right now. The pretty girl in his bed had all his attention.

Soon, other articles of clothing were stripped from both of your bodies, discarded onto the floor without a care. It didn't take long before your naked bodies were pressed against one another, lips still pressed against one another.

His delicate fingers trace along your skin gently. He pushes your body down lightly, pinning you flat onto the bed as he pulls away from the kiss. He climbs on top of you, hovering over your nude figure.

He looks at you with adoration in his eyes. It's dark in the room, but the moonlight shines from his window, illuminating the room just enough that he can see your beautiful body and face.

He begins leaving a trail of kisses down your body. Your jaw, neck, breasts, stomach. He mumbles about how pretty you are with each kiss he leaves on your skin.

You tug at his hair with a whine when he presses a kiss against your lower stomach. "Jeonghan, just touch me... please."

He's happy to oblige.

He brings his head back up, burying in the crook of your neck as his fingers move between your thighs. You let out a soft moan at the initial contact.

He continues to work his fingers on you, focusing on your clit and smiling to himself as you start to soak his fingers. It doesn't take long for you to get wet enough for him to slip a finger in.

"Shit," you breathe out.

He continues pumping his finger before slipping in another. You're panting and moaning softly beneath him as he works his fingers on you. He curls them ever so slightly, creating the perfect angle that has you craving more.

You're pushing your hips into his fingers, fucking yourself on his slim digits. His thumb continues to rub circles on your clit as you completely soak his fingers.

It gets easier for him to pleasure you as he thrusts his fingers into your cunt. You sound so pretty too, whimpering his name as he coaxes you toward your orgasm.

You can feel the pleasure building up in the pit of your stomach as you grow closer to your high. You're pushing your hips into his fingers messily, growing less and less coordinated as you desperately try to get yourself off.

It only takes another curl of his fingers before you're sent over the edge. Relief washes over you as you entire a state of euphoria. You can feel his hard cock twitch as its pressed against your inner thigh. He whispers sweet words against your collarbone as he talks you down from your high.

"Good?"

You nod in response, hands immediately reaching for his hard cock. "Need more... want you inside."

He curses to himself.

"You sure?"

"Yes," you plead. "Want you to feel good too... please fuck me."

He's quick to act, reaching into his nightstand drawer to grab a condom. He rips it open with his teeth and slides it on with ease before lining himself up with your entrance. He drags the tip of his cock along your cunt, teasing you just enough to whine about how you needed more from him.

And he was going to deliver.

Now that he prepped you, you took his length in easily. He slid in, building up to an intense thrusting speed in no time. You were so wet, the sounds of his cock fucking into you echoed throughout the bedroom.

"Fuck," he groans. "Was made for this fucking cunt... you take me so well."

Your head sinks into the pillow as you allow the pleasure to take over your body. The headboard creates a thud with each thrust, pushing against the wall as he fucks you. He fills you up so nicely, thrusting and hitting all your sweet spots.

Your bodies grow sticky and sweaty as he fucks you. "Feels so good," you moan.

Each drag of his cock into your cunt pushes your thoughts around in your brain. All the fear has been fucked out of you and you can hardly think properly. The only thing you know for sure right now is that he feels absolutely incredible inside of you.

You've never had sex like this before. So intimate... yet rough and full of passion. It was rare for your past partners to get you to climax, but you can already feel your second one approaching.

"You gonna give me another one already, pretty girl?" he asks.

All you can do is nod.

Your cunt is clenching around him, walls fluttering as you near your second orgasm of the night. He knows he won't last much longer either, not with the way you're gripping him.

"Oh fuck," you moan.

A few more thrusts are you're done for, allowing your second orgasm to fill you with inexplicable pleasure. You're somehow gripping him tighter when you cum, sending him into his own orgasm.

He fills the condom, pumping his cum into the rubber as your cunt milks him dry. You're both panting heavily as you come down from your highs.

He pulls out of you, discarding of the used rubber before snuggling up against you beneath the sheets. His arms are wrapped around your frame and his fingers entangle themselves into your hair.

"Are you okay?" he asks, running his fingers through your hair.

"Yeah," you respond, snuggling closer into his chest.

"You were so good," he praises, lips brushing against your ear. "So so good."

"I wanted you to feel good," you admit with a yawn.

"You're perfect," he compliments. "You feeling sleepy?"

You nod. "A little."

"Okay," he continues running his fingers through your hair. "Get some rest okay? I'll hold you and make you breakfast in the morning. Sound good?"

You .let out another yawn. "Yeah... thank you neighbor."

You're out like a light in less than five minutes. Jeonghan finds himself smiling as you rest in his arms. He feels better with you in his bed, it helps him sleep better.

Before he knows it, he's drifting off. The storm outside has died down, and he knows when the sun comes up, you'll still be in his arms and he couldn't be happier.

He'll have to thank Joshua later.

_______________________________________________

© number1mingyustan - Do not repost without permission.

#seventeen smut #seventeen #jeonghan smut #yoon jeonghan #jeonghan seventeen #jeonghan fic #svt jeonghan

[novemberthecatadmirer]

Theory: What if the Valar Were Not Doing Nothing, but Canon Still Happened Because Morgoth

It is not canon and likely ooc and filled with logic holes... But it would be very interesting if the Valar were not doing nothing back in Valinor in First Age.

Like, maybe they did organize people who were willing to train for battle and was carefully making plans and actively preparing for war.

They could not go fighting Morgoth because if they acted right away they would lose. Or they may win at the cost of tearing the world apart and causing all children of Iluvatar to die, which meant Morgoth would achieve his goal anyway.

--------------------

For example, if Morgoth gained a really large power boost through destroying trees & killing Noldor king at his own house & letting everyone experience dreadful darkness and possibly the following food shortage. That’s a lot of fear and trauma and negative emotions for him to drink from.

The Valar analyzed the situation, and realized if they went to war immediately with Morgoth he had a rather high chance to win.

They fucked up really, really hard by bringing elves to Valinor. The elves born in Valinor were just not prepared for the specific Morgoth type of evil, and had little experience fighting, and pathetic coping mechanism developed for Morgoth’s curses crippling mental illness.

Meanwhile the elves remained in Middle Earth suffered because there were just not enough of them.

Also the Noldor were angry at the Valar and were going to Middle Earth to build their own nations. Not the “we are leaving home to kill the bad guy so he can hurt our family no more,” but the “we are going to retrieve our stolen family heirloom and restore our honor and then live there building our own nations.” The problem was Middle Earth was already occupied by other elves and that was their land.

Then Noldor proved that they were willing to kill just to get some ships (beautiful ships, but still, ships) from unwilling owners to go to Beleriand. What would they be willing to do to get their lands there from unwilling owners?

Plus, they really, really had little chances against Morgoth.

So Námo went to them and told them “Hey don’t do this you are walking right into a burning lava pit if you proceed you will burn and die horribly filled with pain and terror. Listen to me it’s not worth it, your goal is selfish and eventually people will disagree with it and infighting will start when people can no longer united by getting shiny gems.” In his awful menacing dramatic way.

It actually worked to some extent, some of them did recognize that killing people was wrong and better stopped and went back home to rethink their life choices.

Others left anyway.

--------------------

Then Morgoth started the First Battle of Beleriand, which was awful. However, by driving Sindar & Nandor elves away from their lands into these separate hideouts/strongholds, he actually removed a bomb that was waiting to explode. Which was “will Noldor attack Sindar/Nandor if they were not willing to share/give up their nice fertile lands.”

Maybe Melian actually received instructions like “Hey make this girdle, protect your people, survive and wait until we figure out how to push Morgoth into Void and trap him there. We are not sure how exactly we can achieve that tho and we are still brainstorming and losing hair, but we promise you we are going to fight him once we figure out how to not tore apart the world in the process. For now… Just let the Noldor take their land, do not get involved into their bullshit, especially not their gem bullshit. Put a tight leash on your husband, no offense, but Námo believed he can get you all doomed if he demanded a gem or something. We do not quite believe it but it is Námo so better be safe than sorry? Just… Sit out and chill for a while and wait for us to come. Oh and don’t tell this to anyone, Morgoth might have his ways to be sneaky and hear things.”

--------------------

The Valar had to be careful because they must not let Morgoth know that they cared.

He mustn’t know that if he attacked Valinor now he had like 50% chances to win and another 40% chances to lose but achieve his world destruction goal anyway. He mustn’t know that the Valar were actively preparing war against him and they would go to war against him, just not at the moment when there was only 10% chance for the world to come out still in one piece.

Valinor was a fortress. Many of them forgot about this for so long but Valinor was still built and designed as a fortress. They could keep secret in a fortress. 

They just had to stall.

They had to let Morgoth believe that they abandoned Middle Earth. They had to let Morgoth believe that they were more angry at Noldor then they were at Morgoth. They had to let Morgoth believe they were dancing and drinking and partying in their paradise instead of actively coming up of plans and discarding them and coming up of new plans again.

They had to pretend to be cruel.

And they were cruel. They never intended so, but Noldor accidentally served as a distraction, to distract Morgoth’s attention from Valinor. Like a cat occupied with playing with food, Morgoth was very interested in slowly torturing the Noldor, giving them fake hope of peace, then squashing them and drinking from their despair and getting more powerful through it. He would come to destroy Valinor, but he would do it��after he finished playing with Middle Earth. The Noldor elves fought too bravely, and Morgoth wanted to break everything brave and good and whole.

Noldor were suffering in their wars that were destined to lose, and the Valar benefited from their suffering because this way Valinor got time to prepare.

--------------------

Everyone was devastated. Some tried to help, subtly.

Ulmo used rivers and oceans to spy and protect and guide and hide. For those who attempted to sail west he had to have Osse storm over them to put up the “we are mad at you” show. He tried his best to dump them onto enchanted islands to sleep till the Valar figure the shit out. A few who got lost in the storm got scooped up by Námo, which was very unfortunate, but mildly acceptable? They didn’t die permanently and there would still be a world for them to return to.

With Irmo’s help he also warned Finrod and Turgon and asked them to build hidden kingdoms to protect as many as possible as long as possible until the help could come from the West.

Manwe sent his eagles. Dramatic, and really poked Morgoth’s temper several times. Other Valar very carefully monitored him, ready to jump in to stop him from crossing a line too much to accidentally trigger a full scale war (that they will still lose). He was still feeling extremely guilty for releasing Morgoth and letting him went to the Noldor that time. (The battle of Unnumbered Tears hit him very hard, he could not understand evil, but it didn’t mean he could not recognize evil.)

Namo kept expanding his halls. And politely tolerated each and every newcomers yelling at him for dooming them to fail. What was really bothering him was those who could not yell. Some of them did not come in one piece. 

Some others came and asked about people they knew. I saw them die, they died before me. Where are them? They asked. But those souls never came to his hall. Sometimes they eventually came, but deformed and wrong. And Namo knew what happened to them. Morgoth always loved creating mockeries. He must enjoy having his own halls and enslaving his victims even after their death.

Varda was probably very involved in spying and developing strategies. She had plan for the stupid gems too, and when one of them appeared she just looked at everyone and be like “See? I actually have good plan for this and now its light can be shared by everyone and bringing them hope instead of causing manic addiction and mass death toll. I even leave the other two for you to grow trees again. Oh it’s not possible now? Okay maybe if we put one in the sea and the other underground in the lava and circulate them around Arda we can at least slow down that fucker’s corruption. Only in theory. Maybe it won’t work at all but we can try. Sons of Feanor have been evil after killing for ship and likely could not touch them so maybe they would be nice if someone ask for those politely. Namo maybe we can trade those with the little one that burnt by his father? He was still not ready? Fine whatever.”

(I headcanon Yavanna used some of her very deadly forests to protect Avari and Nandor and those who fled. She could only do so much, and Morgoth was constantly trying to corrupt her forest and released invasive species into where they should not be and also, there were Spiders.)

--------------------

When Earendil and Elwing came the Valar were not really exactly ready, which meant that there was a rather high chance the war would sink some a lot of lands. But Morgoth had pretty much conquered the whole Beleriand and corrupted the land and water. If they waited longer he would finish all the remaining refugees. And Hey, at least they figured out how to not tore down all the land if they were very careful to limit the damage and drive people away from those lands before sinking. Those corrupted lands could not be purified without being washed by sea water for many thousands of years anyway.

Also, they were all so, so angry at Morgoth.

I think by the time the War of Wrath started everyone in Valinor were kind of aware of what was happening in Beleriand for a long period of time. And so many of them were ready for blood. Which was why it was called War of “Wrath.”

Also Fingolfin proved that you sometimes achieve things when you are mad enough

#tolkien #lotr #lotr meta #lotr headcanons #the silmarillion #silmarillion #silm #silm headcanons #silm meta #valar #noldor #morgoth #melkor #war of wrath

[asfdhgsdkjhgb]

ooh pog i officially have my first emotional attachment to a mob on the neighbor kids realm now! (not including the council)

#was adventuring to get my stuff back with my friends little brother and in an area near my house when we left there was a baby chicken #and we werent in a vc or anything and he was just crouching looking at it and i did the same and so we put it in a hole and in a boat #(it grew up while we were doing this but still) and then we covered up the top of the hole and i put signs over it saying #''MY SON. WILL RETRIEVE SOMETIME LATER.'' and ''if anyone hurts my son i will find you and kill you :) -frog'' #anyways yeah it took me about 15 seconds to become extremely attached to this minecraft chicken i found and i am fully planning #on retrieving him from the pit and bringing him home and then protecting this little chicken with my life #i will probably cry irl if he gets hurt now #my son #and i mean i dont even have to feel bad that my son is a chicken bc i have a wheat farm i live off of so im like already vegetarian #if vegetarian means i only eat bread but also have lots of seeds left over from my farm and chickens eat seeds !!! #i love my new minecraft son #just me rambling again

[prettyvampiress96]

The Malfoy Secret - Chapter 3

Since the traumatic death of her last living relative, Anna had since been a guest in the Malfoy manor . Although she was by now a little more than a guest. Her aunt was peacefully laid to rest and throughout the whole ordeal the Malfoys were her absolute anchor to reality. Anna however still couldn't put her thoughts in order at the situation. On one hand Anna had wanted to go home but on the other hand she rather enjoyed the company of the Malfoys. Anna had previously attempted to return home twice. The first time Anna had gone to return home , Draco begged her not to leave claiming he wanted to make the most of her company before his return to his last term of third year next week.. The second time Cissa began fretting about her wellbeing. Her being worried about Anna all alone in that big house. So Anna agreed to stay to ease Cissa's conscience but did say that she would return before her first day of work at the Ministry. What Anastasia didn't know was that she would be the right hand assistant to Lucius himself. The letter enclosing said information remained unopened in the Rosier mansion.

The following week Narcissa and Lucius bid Draco farewell at kings cross station whilst Anna was already in the Ministry of Magic for her first day along with another student from her year . Anastasia now knew that she would be working with Lucius , she was relieved at least it was someone who wouldn't judge her by her name. Though the thought of being in such a confined space with the white haired man had butterflies filling the pit of her stomach. Lucius strutted into his office in the department of Magical Law Enforcement, halting in his footsteps at the sight of his darling Anna stretching on the tips of her feet to reach a book higher up on the shelf, Lucius held back a laugh as he took in just how miniature she was even in a pair of heels. Even though he adored that about her , he couldn't help picture in absolutely nothing but those heels all stretched out for him and for cissa of course. Anna hadn't yet realised he had entered the room she was too caught up in finding the book Mr. Crouch had requested. Lucius took this as his moment . He walked as quietly as he could towards her . When Anna was in his reach, his large hands held her hips , his long fingers digging in slightly. Anna's back pressed flush against his broad chest. Leaning down to her ear. "You want my help with that darling ?" He whispered pressing himself further into the girl. Anna blushed at the feeling of his hardened member making itself known. Easily reaching for the book , his hand could reach without him even trying. "By all means you can say no and I shall just sit back and watch as that little skirt rides up more and more. Its taking I have not to throw you over my desk and worship you right here babygirl" Lucius smirked as Anastasia let out a squeak at the pet name he called her. Lucius brought the book down to Anna's eyesight, offering it out to her , Anna still pressed against the overly large shelf. Before Anna could respond in walked Narcissa. Narcissa drank in the scene in front of her , the sight of her husband and hopefully her soon to be princess. Anastasia's face flushed a deep red as she resisted the urge to run into Cissa's arms. " My darling how lovely of you to join us isn't that right princess?" Lucius turned to face cissa while slipping a wink to Anna. "I .. Uh..you...I should get this book to Mr. Crouch " she said shyly unsure of how to respond , after all neither of them had spoken since her and cissa kissed. Anna couldn't help wondering is Narcissa regretted it. Bowing her head Anna moved to rush from the room. "WAIT, STOP" Narcissa called after her smiling as annas feet immediately come to a halt." Hurry back darling there's something we should all talk about". Anna nodded in response quickly exiting the room. Anastasia walked with the book in her arms just down the hall, knocking respectively , Anna awaited permission before entering. " Mr Crouch I'm terribly sorry if I am interrupting I'm just bringing the book you requested from Mr Malfoy" Anastasia informed showing the book as if she needed the proof. "Ah right yes, good good I do believe you may have just missed crossing paths with our young Mr Weasley. He took it upon himself to retrieve that book . A good boy he is . If that is all Miss Rosier I am rather busy I'm afraid" Mr Crouch, the minister of Magic himself said without raising so much as his head. Anna walked back to Lucius's office , the sound of her heels clacking with every step, when suddenly body blocks her way. "You know you'd think the slimy Slytherin's would crawl back into their holes rather than working for the Ministry . Your father was a blind fool to follow the dark lord . Tell me what would daddy think of his daughter now. Oh no thats right he got himself killed before you could wipe the drool from your chin? " Percy Weasley sneered at her . Anastasia's blood fuelled an inferno of rage and Percy was about to get a taste of the fire. Passer's by began to stop and watch while office doors seemed to open for the fellow workers to do the same. Annas eyes glazed over and she smiled a

sweet smile. " Don't you ever speak of my family in that way do you hear me ? You want to know what my 'daddy' thinks , insult me again and you'll be finding out" Anna threatened in a low voice her wand drawn and pressed into the younger Weasleys throat. Lucius Malfoy was the first to intervene , his hand pushing anna's armed one down. He ushered the furious girl into the office and she slowly began following. " Enjoy freedom while you can I'm sure they've got a cell in Azkaban with your family's name on call it an heirloom. As cold, dark narcissistic murderers run in your family dont they. When you slip up Rosier and you will . I will be the one to put you there myself" Percy shouted at her back. Taken off guard Percy hadn't expected Anna to throw 'stupefy at him knocking him down the hall by a few good feet . " Funny that if I'm to go to Azkaban it'll be for killing you. You're a no good blood traitor and yet you think you actually have the audacity to think you stand a chance against me. I know spells your mother couldnt even dream of mastering . You think you can talk about my family when you know absolutely nothing . I'll escort myself to Azkaban right now once I've sent your cold body to your mother. That dark enough for you saint Percy? Anna fumed her wand raised . Arthur Weasley emerged from the crowd , his wand drawn protecting his son. Lucius drew his wand and stood directly in front of Anastasia.

"Princess go, back to the office head held high cissy is there and I'll be right behind you "Lucius whispers so low only Anastasia could hear it. Anna nods confirming she had indeed heard his words but she was reluctant to walk away. When Lucius firmly commands her once again to go as she reaches the offices, she can already feel the tears fill her eyes and the burning sensation in her chest. Anna just wanted to scream . Instead she shuts the door and walks to her desk with her head down. Realisation hitting her like a tonne of bricks Anna slides down the nearest wall. Narcissa immediately running to the sobbing girl sitting next to her , Cissa cradled anna against her chest, rocking slightly whilst rubbing a hand soothingly on the black haired girls back.

"I'm not a bad person I've followed every rule. I've never put a foot wrong yet I'm still painted with the same brush as my father am I destined to be alone. Perhaps Azkaban is the best place for someone with a name like mine". Lucius having now dealt with the pathetic Weasleys returns just as Anna sobs those words. Seeing her so broken and seeing his wife so affected at those words only tempted Lucius to go back and seriously damage the disrespectful boy. Weighing his options, nothing was more important than his family and as of that his girls needed him. Narcissa who was still holding Anna raised her head to look at her husband , she tilted her head to the side silently asking what had happened out there.

He ushered Narcissa over to him which she does hesitantly. Torn between leaving Anna and finding out what had occurred . Narcissa's curiosity got the best of her. "Anna I'll be right back darling" Narcissa whispered assuringly. Lucius explains in a hushed whisper briefly what happened. Narcissa can't believe what she's heard. How could someone say something so cruel about her baby girl. Lucius made his way over to Anna and bent down, lifting her chin up to face him. " Don't you ever let me hear say that about yourself . We would never allow you to be put in that wretched place. A name does not define you. That boy knows nothing. He is nothing. You are my everything. Our everything " he would say pulling cissa to him as she steps nearer not wanting to scare Anna . "I'm yours. Like both of you?" Anna questioned back , her green eyes wide and her pink lips pouted in slight confusion. " Why don't we all go back home a discuss this over a drink hmm?" Cissa hinted holding her hand out for her husband and Anna to take .

They arrive back at Malfoy Manor and Anna takes a seat on the sofa in the front room with Cissa sitting on one side of her and Lucius on the other side. Lucius gently takes one of Anna’s hands in his and with the other hand gently turns her head to face him “Anna I meant what I said earlier you are our everything and I want to discuss you becoming apart of our relationship” He nods at Cissa before continuing “There is no pressure Anna, you can say no and we’ll respect your decision. It won’t affect our working relationship either.” Anna doesn’t respond straight away, feeling a little shocked at his offer. “Should you agree to be with us boundaries would be set in place, which leads me to my next question. What are your boundaries Anna?” Lucius’ voice soft as he looks into her eyes.

“I don’t have any boundaries as I’ve never done this before” Anna answers honestly as she holds his gaze for a moment before looking down at her lap, a look of confusion washes over his face “Anna had never been kissed before I kissed her two weeks ago” Cissa explained. Lucius places his fingers under Anna’s chin lifting her head up “Just to confirm Anna, you are a virgin?” She nods at him and feels her cheeks heat in a light blush. “We’ll take things nice and slow; we’ll go at a pace that suits you…if you agree to be ours that is.” Lucius tells her with a smile on his lips and Anna couldn’t help herself, she looked down at his mouth and licked her lips. Cissa nods agreeing with her husband “We will look after you. You will be safe with us…always” Cissa took hold of Anna’s other hand in hers and begun rubbing small soothing circles on the back of her hand with her thumbs.

Anna looks between Cissa and Lucius before speaking “I’d like to be yours, both of yours but I’m worried I cannot offer you much in return” Cissa turns Anna’s head so she is looking at her “Just by agreeing to be with us is giving us more than you can imagine. All we want to do is to make you feel loved, safe and of course pleasure you beyond your wildest dreams” Cissa smiles and leans forward pressing her lips to Anna’s in a quick but sweet kiss.

“If we overstep a boundary or you start to feel uneasy or anything just tell us. In fact, to be sure we are all comfortable with this arrangement I recommend we use safe words” Lucius said softly, his breath warm against her ear “Safe words?” Anna asked shyly and he chuckled lightly “Ahh so innocent my sweet girl” His fingers brushing her hair aside as he placed a soft kiss to her neck before continuing “Each of us picks a word that once spoken the others know enough is enough. The moment the word is spoken everything stops…straight away, no questions or explanations needed” Anna turned her head slightly so she was looking at him over her shoulder “I’d like to be yours, both of yours” He smiled at her before capturing her lips with his.

Lucius and Narcissa both hand in hand with Anastasia began escorting her up the winding black marble case not stopping until they reached the door to the master bedroom. Both Malfoys stood watching Anna's reaction as Lucius twisted the handle of the door pushing it open , allowing Anna the first step inside. Anastasia was in awe at the decoration. With a flick of his wrist Lucius had set candles alight causing a rather romantic atmosphere. Anna's hand was still laced with Cissa's, she was reminded off that when Narcissa squeezed her hand. " What do you think babygirl?" Cissa asked brushing a loose strand of Anna's hair from her face, leaning in she placed a soft kiss on Anna's lips . "It's beautiful Cissy . It really is" Anna breathed looking behind her for Lucius. When Anastasia noticed him still stood by the door only now minus his dress shirt , she reached her hand towards him wanting to touch . Lucius noticed Anna's hesitation and stepped into her reach, taking her hands he placed them on the centre of his broad chest. Anna's hands ran up over his bare shoulders and linked around his neck attempting to pull him down to her level due to the height difference. Anna could feel his intoxicating scent overwhelm her and she took the plunge pressing her lips to his . His kiss was different to that of Cissa's it was rougher and more dominant . Lucius's hands reached over the curves of Anna's ass and lifted her up, her legs wrapping around his waist as he walked them to the bed . A naked Narcissa joined the pair , running her fingers up anna's bare legs causing anna gasp allowing Lucius access to her tongue . Anastasia pulled back from her make out session , glancing at Narcissa, her eyes tracing over the perky nipples of her breasts. Anna's mouth ran dry . She had no idea what she wanted but god that woman was it. " Remember Darling we can stop whenever you like , tonight is all about you my pretty babygirl , mommy and daddy will make you feel so good I promise princess you just have to trust us" Narcissa spoke softly tapping her finger on the top button of anna's shirt. " Can mummy take this off baby " Cissa cooed , anna nodded and proceeded to remove the shirt herself only for cissa to stop her. "Let mommy do it angel please" Cissa asked again this time Anna nodded and allowed cissa to removed her top. Narcissa dropped the shirt to the floor her eyes never looking away from Annas full breasts, leaning forward cissa placed a wet kiss to the tops of her breasts. Ana in response arched her back unaware that her hips had rocked against the very non discreet package in Lucius's trousers. Narcissa's hands travelled lower and lower until they reached the waistband of the very tight skirt Anna had on. Cissa's fingers hooked into the band but waited for permission from Anna . "Princess Mommy's waiting for you "Lucius whispered in Anna's ear. Anastasia nodded fervently glancing down and the sight of a naked Narcissa between her thighs . Anna couldnt peel her eyes away. In a split second her skirt and panties were removed , Anna's core now slick and bare to Cissa who licked her lips in delight at the prize in front of her . "We can stop if you want to little princess, you just have to say and we promise we wont be disappointed in the slightest or should mommy continue" Lucius reminded . " No please Don't stop please dont stop "Anna pleaded . Her pleas were music to their ears. Lucius interlocked his fingers with Anna's , watching over anna's shoulder as his wife's head leant even closer to Annas blazing sex. Narcissa hummed as she dragged a finger through Anna's wet folds, shivering at the breathless gasp she made in response. Narcissa placed a soft kiss to either side of Anastasias inner thigh before connecting her warm tongue to her wet pussy. Anna's hips rose from the emerald sheets , her head thrown back into the crook of Lucius's neck and her grip on his hands getting tighter. " Is mummy making you feel good baby girl ? Let us hear those beautiful noises of yours petal" Lucius teased in advance. Anna mewled , feeling

an unfamiliar weight in the pit of her stomach. Narcissa continued flicking the sensitive bud while she introduced a single finger into Anna's tight hole preparing to stretch her out for Lucius. Slowly and gently Cissa began thrusting that finger in and out in time with the flicking of the bud . With her fingers getting so slick from Anna's running juices , cissa added a second finger and with every thrust in began spreading them apart . Anna's walls began to clench around Cissa's fingers locking them in place and her thighs tightening pulling cissa closer than she was. " Oh Oh Oh " Anna screamed as she rode her first ever climax down on Narcissa .Anna felt shifting from behind her as Lucius moved himself from the bed taking Cissa's place between Anna's thighs. Climbing above her Cissa placed a kiss to Anna's lips. "You did so well darling mummy's so proud of you. Does Daddy want a taste do you think? " Narcissa beamed down at her baby all glistening in sweat , glancing to her husband smirking. Lucius's hand reached across grabbing cissa at the chin, passionately kissing his wife all the while tasting the sweet nectar of his princess on her tongue. At some point during the exchange Lucius had removed his remaining clothing. Lucius tapped on Anna's thighs grabbing her attention. Narcissa sat near Annas head now it was her turn to watch the faces her baby pulled whilst screaming from the pleasure she was receiving. " Princess you need to listen just for a minute okay? Are you sure this is what you want? I won't lie to you my girl it might be a little uncomfortable at first but that passes. Are you absolutely sure?" Lucius needed to make her aware he'd never forgive himself if he hurt her . " Please I trust you Daddy I'd like to try. Help me try" Anna begged her voice sounding like a whine. Lucius wrapped his hand around his painfully hard cock swiping the pre-cum from the swollen head to lubricate it slightly. The combination of that and Anna's cum should be just enough.

As he slowly began to ease into her, Anna's walls clenched around him as a pained groan leaves her throat. Digging her nails into his shoulders as she squeezes her eyes shut tight, Anna's body tenses against his when he comes to a stop. His body trembling as he fights the lust inside him to thrust into his pretty little princess .When the pain starts to subside Anastasia slowly moves her hips .

"Please " was all Anna could muster out. Lucius takes her thigh and places it on his hip as he starts to slowly move against her . Quickly finding a steady rhythm, as his hips roll against hers both moving in perfect harmony , Anna could feel every thrust against her walls. Her nails leave red half-moon crescents on biceps. Narcissa sat back observing couldnt help but reach down and began circling her own clit. His name falls from Anastasia's mouth like a prayer when he finds that specific spot inside of her . "Fuck, Princess , you feel so good around Daddy" he moans as he thrust faster into her , pleasure invaded her senses as her vision begins to cloud , with her head thrown back Anna can no longer keep the moans inside of her . An inferno rages inside of her , Her hands fall from his arms to grasp at the sheets with such a force her knuckles began turning white. "Papi, I'm..." she moans out. " Let it go baby I'm here Daddy's here" Lucius coaxed. Anastasias walls enclosed around Lucius's cock , her nectar coating his manhood. With a last thrust into her Lucius emptied his load filling his princess up to the brim. Gently removing himself from inside her , Lucius laid to the right of Anna enclosing her in his arms, Narcissa laid to the left of Anna . "Our princess did absolutely perfect wouldn't you say so dear?" Narcissa asked Lucius. "Oh i couldn't agree more darling. How are you feeling Princess?" Lucius asked Anna. The three of them an entanglement of limbs. Until Narcissa rose from the bed and into the large bathroom followed by the sound of running water. " Come on Darling let us clean you up and put you in something comfy before you fall asleep" Narcissa commented. Anna however was quite tired and comfy as she mumbled incoherent words from where she was. Lucius scooped her up into his arms and took her into the bathroom himself. Narcissa already in the bath, held her arms out as he lowered his princess down into her lap. A scent of lavender and camomile filled their senses. Lucius lathered up a sponge and glided it over every inch of Anastasias body. Anastasia snapped from her dazed state smiling at both Lucius and Narcissa. Before putting her head down and playing with her fingers , a sign they had already noticed when she was nervous or embarrassed. " Princess Is everything alright darling? Are you hurt or in pain?" Cissa asked concerned she may be hurt . " No no nothing like that I was urm well I just wondered could I stay with you two tonight?" Anna asked so quietly that if they had been any further away they wouldn't have caught it. "Of Course you sweet girl you were always going to sleep in with us . We wouldn't have it any other way. Now why dont you let mommy wash your hair whilst daddy gets out and fetches you something comfy eh?" Narcissa said softly to Anna pulling her in for a cuddle in the warm water. With the girls dressed in Narcissa's nightgowns , Lucius had made a mental note to have cissa and anna go shopping soon. Lucius had already pulled back the covers and slid in, waiting for his girls to come out. "Which side should I sleep?" Anna asked Narcissa. They hadn't discussed that yet. " Why dont you sleep in the middle darling so that way we can both hold you" Lucius offered. Anna scrambled into bed followed by Cissa. Cissa took hold of Annas hand and kissed the knuckles.

"I'm so happy you agreed to be ours our darling girl "Narcissa expressed. Lucius turned on his side facing Anna and Cissa draping his arm across the both of them in a protective manner. " I love you both my precious girls" Lucius said lovingly. The three slept in each others embrace for the rest of the night.

#lucius malfoy #narcissa malfoy #narcissamalfoy #lucius malfoy smut #lucius malfoy x reader

[nataliedanovelist]

GF - The Sapling of His Labors

A Drifting Stars AU one-shot, in collaboration with @clownwry.

1st, 2nd, 4th.

~~~~~~~~~~

Ford hummed an old tune to himself as he worked on dinner. Rather than sitting in front of a fire-pit in the middle of nature, butchering food to make it edible, he was blessed to be standing in a humble kitchen with a stove, cabinets, counters, and everything. The only thing he didn’t have was a fridge or freezer, but that was okay. Ford worked calmly and at his own pace as he chopped up the onion, blinking the burning feeling away, and he used his knife to scoop the diced pieces of onion into the hot skillet, and it sizzled and immediately smelled good.

Ford smiled as he added the green bell pepper, and other delicious things from the garden, and then he gave the veggies and herbs a stir with his hand-carved wooden spoon. Estimating that dinner would be ready soon, he walked across the kitchen, through the living room with a fireplace, two rocking chairs, and a large homemade three-way desk with two chairs, and to the front door. 

The top half of the dutch door was already open, so he leaned against the bottom half of the door to watch his little girl run around with other kids her age, playing tag. “Mabel, honey, dinner!” He called. “Will you please bring some water when you come?”

“Okay!” Mabel called back cheerfully, and Ford trusted her to end the game soon and say goodnight to her friends as he went back to dinner.

The veggies were cooking well, so Ford threw some of Mabel’s special homemade butter into another pan, let it melt, and then he carefully laid two filleted fish down to cook.

The bottom half of the dutch door opened and Mabel came in with a bucket of water from their well. She grinned at the sight of him and sat the bucket down to use a ladle to pour some water into wooden cups. “Ms. Mahogany asked about you again.”

“Oh?” Ford raised an eyebrow at her, his smile still present.

“Yeah, I told her how just last night you told me you were lonely and only wanted someone to hold at night…”

Ford barked a laugh that Mabel joined in with, but she continued as she set the table. “Then she said her son is still single if…”

“Mabel, please!” Ford guffawed with rosy cheeks as he flipped the fish. “I wish you would stop trying to set me up with everyone in town.”

“But I’m a great matchmaker!”

“I know you are. Why not focus on someone else’s love-life?” Ford suggested as he began to plate the veggies.

“I don’t really care about everyone else’s love-life.” Mabel said with a shrug as she sat.

Ford snorted as he platted the fish on top of the veggies, one plate slightly smaller than the other.

“Well, not nearly as much as I care about you.” Mabel elaborated, and smiled sweetly at her uncle as he turned to set the food at the table. “I just want you to be happy, Grunkle Ford.”

The old man was a bit surprised by this, but he smiled softly and said, “I am happy, darling.” He sat the plates and himself down where they belonged, then patted his lap. “Come here.”

The girl didn’t hesitate to crawl into his lap and let him hug her. “I’ve got you.”

“Yeah, but imagine how much happier you’d be if you had me and a partner!” Mabel said optimistically.

Ford chuckled and brushed her shoulder-length hair with his six fingers. “Sweetie, I’m much happier now than I ever thought I would be.”

Mabel grinned at him and hugged him around the neck, allowing Ford to squeeze her gently and hug her back.

A little while later they sat by the fireplace, Ford in his rocking chair, and Mabel by his socked feet, propping her back against his leg as she knitted away. Ford used to tease her and wonder why he even built her a rocking chair, but once she explained she felt more comfortable against him, he let it go. Maybe next time they go to the store, he should trade fish for fabric so he can build a couch.

The eldest read a book out-loud while Mabel knitted, their favorite thing to do in the evening, when all they had for light was the fireplace and lanterns and the stars, but there were no stars tonight. Rain peacefully trickled down outside. They left the dutch door open to enjoy the smells and sounds and cool air, not a hint of a storm in sight.

Ford was enjoying the book, but not nearly as much as he enjoyed looking down at his beautiful girl. The sounds of her needles clicking as she worked, the way her brown eyes twinkled, the blush on her round cheeks, the shine in her hair. Ford had no idea what in the Multiverse he did to deserve her… No, he didn’t deserve her, but he was still grateful for her, and beyond happy he somehow managed to give her a happy life.

~~~~~~~~~~

Ford was very excited, too excited to let his little girl sleep in too much. True that he purposely got up early to get the eggs, milk the cow, and let the sheep out for her, but he decided to surprise her earlier rather than later, so he made her some pancakes and eggs, squeezed her some fresh orange juice, put a pretty flower on the tray for decoration, and tucked the present wrapped in parchment and card under his arm.

A soft knock alerted Mabel of company, and her door opening and a warm voice fully woke her up. “Mabel, honey,”

She grinned and sat up in her bed. Ford had no regrets. All his hard work was worth it for that smile. “Happy Birthday.”

Mabel was absolutely delighted by the sweet surprise, but a bit disheartened when she saw no plate for her uncle. She raised an eyebrow suspiciously at him, still too used to his bad habit of skipping meals so she could eat. Well, he didn’t have to do that anymore. “Grunkle Ford, where’s your breakfast?”

Ford smiled and chuckled. “Don’t worry, it’s all fixed and downstairs waiting for me.”

Mabel smiled again and said, “Why don’t you eat up here with me? Then I’ll open my present!”

Ford nodded. That seemed like an even better idea than eating separately. So Ford retrieved his mug of coffee and pancakes, and when he sat at the foot of Mabel’s bed, she opened the card. There was no glitter to decorate it with and the card wasn’t nearly as colorful as Mabel would have made it, but Ford still drew plenty of pretty pictures for her and wrote plenty of kind words, and more importantly, he made it just for her.

Mabel grinned and thanked him for the card, sitting by her nightstand and candle so she could see it every day, and then she tore into her present. She gasped happily and squealed at the gift. Mabel had seen Ford sew here and there, but she didn’t know this was what he was working on.

It was a large quilt. It had many different patches, some with colors, some with pictures of animals, one with a shooting star and one with a six-fingered hand. There were so many different patches that Mabel felt she could look and look without seeing every detail.

Ford rubbed the back of his neck nervously. “I asked everyone in town if they had scraps of cloth. I wasn’t sure what to get you, but you deserve something nice, and…”

“Grunkle Ford, I love it!” And Mabel let her new quilt fall on her lap so she could hug him tightly around the waist. “Thank you, thank you, thank you! I’ll use it forever! I love you, thank you!”

Ford chuckled and hugged her back tightly. “Y-You’re welcome.”

It wasn’t much, but it was better than what he could have done for her before.

~~~~~~~~~~

Ford ran as fast as he could. He didn’t care how sharply branches pricked his face or how many times he stubbed his toe on a rock or tree root. The screaming rang in his ears. Mabel needed him.

He was grateful to find Mabel up in a tree, safe, but not for long. At the base of the tree was a giant black bear, roaring and growling and scratching the tree. It wouldn’t be long until the bear decided to try to climb. Ford gritted his teeth and allowed instincts to take over, animal vs animal.

Ford threw a rock and it hit the bear on the neck, making it forget the human cub in the tree and turn to the adult to roar warningly. Then Ford shot his crossbow and it hit the bear right in the shoulder, close to the chest, but not quite enough to kill it, only to anger it. Mabel screamed for Ford to run away, to get away, but Ford stood his ground as the bear charged at him and he rolled out of the way just in time, then shot the bear again, this time hitting it’s back.

The bear turned and roared at Ford, and he was prepared to pull the knife out of his boot and do some real damage, tired of giving warnings that the bear wasn’t hearring. But then something made everyone freeze. A small wheezing roar. A squeak from a cub. The little baby black bear ran out from the bushes and to its mother, who nuzzled the cub with her nose and stood protectively. Ford lowered his crossbow and nodded. Mabel must have accidentally stumbled across the cub, must have gotten too close, and the mother was being overprotective.

The mother roared once more at the humans and ran off into the woods with her cub, taking the arrows lodge in her with her. Well, good. That’s what she gets for going near Ford’s niece. Speaking of…

Ford turned to the tree and looked up at the frightened girl. “Mabel, are you hurt?”

“N-No. I’m okay.” Mabel looked at the spot where the bears disappeared and bit her lip. “I… I didn’t even see the baby one…”

Ford smiled and nodded. “It’s alright. You’ll find parents are quite protective of their kids. Can you climb down?”

Mabel nodded and carefully made her way down the tree. When she was about halfway down, she leaped into Ford’s arms and they hugged each other tightly, the crossbow still in Ford’s hand.

“Oh, Mabel, I was so worried…”

“I’m sorry, I’m really sorry…”

“Shh, hey, it’s alright. I’m not mad.”

“I thought you… I thought…” Mabel mumbled into his shoulder, her grip on his coat extremely tight.

“Hey, hey, it’s alright. I’ve got you.” Ford muttered to her as he walked them home. “I’ve got you.”

~~~~~~~~~~

Ford walked home from the ocean, smiling with the large net filled with fish on his back. Mabel was with the sheep, as usual, and smiled and waved when she saw his safe return. The leaves were changing colors and the air was getting more comfortable and crisp. Soon winter would be with them, and rather than fish for money, Ford planned to build music boxes and carve toys, a brilliant idea Mabel had when she noticed how he missed tinkering and building. He enjoyed fishing, but it wasn’t like the old lab work that made him proud.

The next day, like always, Ford walked home and saw Mabel among the sheep, but this time she was chatting with a boy her age. Ford had seen the boy before, Mabel labeling him as a friend, but the old man couldn’t help but wonder if he should be putting money away for a small wedding, a thought that made his blood boil and his heart swell at the same time.

~~~~~~~~~~

Ford gave the soup another stir before ladling it into a bowl. Poor Mabel sat on the newly built couch, wrapped in her quilt, close to the fire, her cheeks and nose cherry red and dark circles under her eyes as she sneezed and coughed. Ford wasn’t as worried for her as he normally would be; it was just a bad cold. She would be alright. 

Weirdly enough, Mabel’s brain had decided to call it quits and she was nothing more than a rag doll, barely interactive and aware of her surroundings, which was fine by Ford. He could take care of her and the house just fine. He smiled softly and sat next to her, holding out a spoonful of warm soup for her. “Here you are, my dear. This will make you feel better.”

Shakily Mabel ate the bite she was given, but it burned and made her cough roughly. Ford rubbed her back and stirred the soup to cool it down a little. “That's it, easy does it. There we go, I’m sorry, sweetie.”

The second time was the charm; Mabel was able to swallow a second spoonful of warm soup no problem. She actually made a weak smile, then muttered to Ford, “Thanks Daddy,” and coughed roughly into her quilt. She patiently waited for her next spoonful, unaware of what she had done to Ford.

She had said it so innocently, so quietly… Was it possible, that in her weakened state, Mabel thought she was back home with her father? Even though she seemed out of it, she did seem aware of where they were; a few minutes ago, when Ford was making the soup, she had asked if the sheep were put away. And she had thanked Ford for making the soup when he first started on dinner. So, maybe, there was a small possibility that Mabel knew exactly who she was talking to, and she articulated with a title that felt fitting to her.

Ford smiled with a bit lip and held out the spoon filled with soup for her. “Y-You’re welcome.”

He smiled sympathetically as she sniffed again, her poor sinuses turned against her. But then she sniffed again, louder, and Ford began to notice it sounded different…

He also began to notice he was sore. And lying down. And wrapped up, like he was tucked in for bed.

Ford was pulled from his dreams and was sluggishly half-awake, his eyes still closed, and he bought his body some time to gather some strength by paying attention to his blind surroundings.

He could hear and feel a fire going. He was lying in a sleeping bag on the ground, and he could tell there were other things keeping him warm and wrapped up. Some damp cloth was on his forehead. And he could hear crying.

Ford forced his eyes open slowly and he discovered someone had taken his glasses off. He forced himself to work with his blurry vision and he sat up a little, leaning on his arm for support in search of his niece. She sat a few feet away, in a tight bundle. If Ford had to guess, she was hugging her knees and hiding her face in her arms and knees. “Mabel…”

She lifted her head up quickly, but then hid her face again, looking away from him and wiping her face dry with the sleeves of her coat. 

“Hey, no,” Ford said softly, taking the damp cloth off his forehead. “None of that, you don’t ever have to hide anything from me. What’s wrong? Are you hurt?”

“N-No,” Mabel cleared her throat and finally turned to look at him; he was a little disheartened to see her trying to smile and still hide what was bothering her. “I’m okay. H-How do you feel? Tea is almost ready.” And she scooted closer to the fire on her knees to check on the teapot.

Ford sighed tiredly, his lips tight to try to keep her from hearing it. “Mabel…”

“Oh, here!” Mabel reached into a pocket of her uncle’s backpack and pulled out his glasses for him. “I thought I’d better take them off you so your face wouldn’t hurt.”

Ford smiled and accepted the visual aid. “Ah, thank you.” He slipped his glasses on and more clues came to his senses.

They were in the middle of the desert. Well, not entirely in the middle, it looked like there was a jungle a few yards behind them. Ford had also been blanketed with sweaters for extra warmth in the cold desert night. Everything seemed well in order and normal, except when Ford looked at his poor little girl. Her hair was a mess, frizzled and… Ford recognized that hairstyle. His hair often looked like that after he grabbed at it too roughly and tried to pull his hair out. There were dark circles under her eyes, eyes that didn’t sparkle. That legitimately scared Ford.

“Mabel…”

“Good! Tea is ready.” Mabel turned away from him again, refusing to look at him as she pulled out a cup for her uncle and poured him some hot drink. “Here, it’ll make you feel better.”

Ford accepted the drink and sat up fully. “Thank you.” He sipped it and watched Mabel carefully. She didn’t pour herself a cup. Or bring out the water canteen for something else to drink. Instead she held her knees and watched the fire dance. He opened his mouth to ask her if she was alright, but she beat him to it.

“How are you feeling? Does anything hurt? H-How’s your neck?”

“My neck?” Ford touched his throat, a bit confused, and answered, “I feel fine. Nothing hurts. Why?”

“We were ambushed. You got shot. You… You had a bad fever and wouldn’t wake up.” Mabel, still refusing to look at him, held out a dart to him that had been lying on the sand. “Here. I thought you might wanna study it.”

Ford adjusted his glasses and held the dart. It was quite long, but very skinny, and it had a red bull point at the top, like a sewing needle, but Ford recognized the dart. “Interesting. These are Hummie darts. They’re sold through the dimensions, they’re very useful for bounty hunting. See, the top here is filled with poison, just enough to render the body useless and to also hypnotize the target in a deep, dream-filled sleep. Oftentimes the dreams are the victim’s happiest memories or goals, so they won’t try to wake up. It’s also very fascinating because the side-effects are next to none, this makes these darts ideal if you want to bring someone in for questioning or for next-to-perfect condition.”

But Mabel wasn’t listening. Her eyes were still on the fire, she was still holding her knees, but her mind was elsewhere. Ford watched her mournfully and tried to remember what had happened.

Oh. Right.

They were in a different dimension than this one. They had been laughing and playing in the woods, unaware of who they were attracting. By the time Ford hoisted a laughing girl on his shoulders, a dart barely missed him and it hit a tree, causing him to run while Mabel shot pop-rocks with her slingshot. Ford can now remember feeling a tiny prick by his neck. He had hoped Mabel had accidentally pinched or pulled some skin on his neck, but she was horrified to have let a dart get past her. Ford managed to stop running and put Mabel down safely, shaking his head and even slapping himself to try to stay awake and attentive, but just as he was sharing a plan with her, he fell on his knees and collapsed into the grass, the last thing he heard was Mabel’s desperate please to be okay. Not to stay awake, not to help, but to be okay.

Ford put the dart and his tea down on the ground. “Oh, Mabel… You were amazing. Absolutely amazing! You saved us. You saved my life.”

“M-Maybe if I hadn’t asked you to play with me…”

“They were relentless. I’m glad we had fun and played.”

Mabel held herself tighter and turned her head away so it was out of sight. That broke Ford’s heart. What he wouldn’t give for her to just look at him. Had he done something? Had he scared her? He had heard that while under the influence of the Hammie darts, the body is as useless as a ragdoll, but… Oh. Maybe that had scared her. Mabel had no way of knowing what the darts did, she had no idea what kind of poison they were filled with. Did she refuse to look at Ford because when she did all she saw was the shadow of a dead man?

“Mabel,” Ford croaked longingly, and he opened his arms. “Please come here.”

Mabel was trembling. She sniffed again and swallowed a sob down.

She was a Pines, after all. She was going to be stubborn. So Ford scooted himself and the sleeping bag and pile of sweaters. He carefully began to scoop her up, but she finally broke and turned and hugged him around the neck, sobbing into his shoulder and allowing him to hold her close and burrow her in his arms and sweaters and sleeping bag.

“Shh, shh, it’s alright now.” Ford petted her hair and closed his eyes, giving everything he had into making her feel better. “I’m okay, I swear. You did an incredible job.”

“I thought… I thought…” Mabel croaked and swallowed to try to communicate better. “Y-Your eyes… they rolled! Into… y-y-you looked d…” And she choked and sobbed and held him so tightly her fingers ached, but she didn’t care.

Now Ford had never heard of that side-effect before. “Oh, Mabel, honey…”

“I k-k-know you’re okay now… I know… but I th-th-thought I was g-gonna lose you!” Mabel cried out, her throat sounding like it was going to tear in half. 

“I’m sorry…” Ford cooed to her and adjusted her so she laid by his heart and he felt her hands. Holy Moses, she was so cold. “I’m so sorry. I’m not going anywhere, I promise. I love my little starshine too much to be anywhere else.”

Mable hiccuped a weak giggle and she nuzzled her cheek against his chest. “I love you, too, D-Grunkle Ford.”

Yup. Ford wasn’t shedding tears alongside her. No. A raindrop must have fallen on his cheek. On a cloudless night. Yeah, that was it.

#GF #gravity falls #gravity falls au #drifting stars au #fanfiction #MORE SWEATER-TWINS BONDING #clownwry #gift

[chocosvt]

⚬ pairing: prince!seokmin x fem!reader ⚬ word count: 12,690 ⚬ warnings: none. ⚬ genre: enemies to lovers, arranged marriage, angst, teasing, some slowburn romance, superfluff toward the end.

✧✎ synopsis: the time has come for prince seokmin to meet his arranged marriage, which forces you to confront a strange predicament: if you truly hate the prince, then why does the thought of him being with someone else hurt this badly?

✧✎ a/n: yeah... i’ve wanted to write some prince!lsm since his excalibur pictures. evidently, i am very late! i hope u enjoy nonetheless :-)

Hiking up the long, heavy layers of your dress, pale and coloured like lilacs, you retrieved a small carving knife that had been clandestinely strapped against your outer thigh. Buried a few feet away from you in the grass was a smooth, palm-sized piece of beech wood, which you quickly picked up before walking back to the bench. You sat down horizontally, stretching out your legs and taking up as much space as possible whilst you started carving down the edges of the beech wood, flicking away the occasional shavings.

It was only to kill time as you waited for the royal gates to open. That night, the King and Queen were hosting an annual, celebratory dinner to commemorate the newest anointment of pages, otherwise known as the fresh grouping of students who would serve the knights and learn about their duties, specifically how they protected and served the kingdom. It was a true honour: you had been requested to cook in the royal kitchen, and the younger apprentice your mother hired at the bakery, Chan, was going with you.

He was notably excited and couldn’t sit down, instead pacing in front of the tall, wooden gateway into the castle grounds. This would be his first time seeing the royal family’s abode from the inside, and if he was particularly lucky, he might get to meet the Prince. To him it was a big deal, but you couldn’t care less. At even just thinking about the Prince, you started pressing your knife harder against the beech wood, gritting your teeth as a larger piece curled off and fell into your lap. Lee Seokmin, he was the Prince. 

You absolutely hated him.

“What on earth do you think you’re doing, child?”

The sunlight that glinted against your face was interrupted by your mother, who had her hands sternly placed on her hips, glaring down at you in sheer disapproval.

“Give me that.” She quipped whilst scowling at the blade. “This instant.”

Rolling your eyes, you sat up properly on the bench and dusted the cream-coloured shavings off your lap. She never let you do anything, and when you were in close proximity to the castle, she became even more rigid and hawk-eyed. You gave her the knife which she hastily folded up, watching her pocket it inside a pouch on the front of her white dress. 

You still held onto the beech wood.

“There is no reason to bring a weapon into the King and Queen’s home. I should not have to reprimand you like this once more. Behave in the way I have taught you.”

Suddenly, there was a loud command you heard echo from the turret, and the tall, wooden gateway into the castle grounds began pulling apart. You heard the clink belonging to the iron chains and the cracks in the elderly oak. Chan stumbled backward, leaving sufficient room for the gate to open. Unlike the apprentice whose eyes were glimmering in awe, you had to swallow the bitter taste in your mouth and put on your fakest, most convincing expression of content. It was going to be the longest night of your life – even longer if you had to eat supper with the Prince.

Just before you were guided into the royal family’s abode by the caterers, you swiftly pulled up the side of your dress and tucked the piece of beech wood between the garter belt at your thigh. Then, you rushed to stand beside Chan.

“Excited, are you?” You asked him.

He tucked a strand of dark brown hair behind his ear, practically bouncing in his place. “It is my biggest wish to sit down with the Prince! To cook for him is already a sure pleasure.”

You couldn’t help but huff at the apprentice’s enthusiasm. He should consider himself lucky he didn’t know Seokmin the way you did.

Time passed quickly, and it was almost two hours into preparing the onslaught of fruit, meat, vegetables, and grain required to make the celebratory supper. The royal kitchen was much larger than the small, quaint space you operated back at the bakery, where everything was tightly shoved together and you knew each crevice like the back of your hand. You were working up a sweat as you kneaded a large, thickening dough. Once you were satisfied, you floured a wooden roller and began flattening it out, using a tin can to cut perfect circles.

You told Chan to put the tray in the clay furnace and keep an eye on the rising bread.

“Where are you going?” He immediately inquired upon watching you untie your apron, hanging the splattered fabric on a hook jutting from the stone wall.

“It’s quite hot. I’m stepping outside for a few minutes. No more than that.”

The young boy nodded and proceeded to follow your orders, keeping a watchful eye on the dough that would soon become crispy, warm pieces of bread. You slipped into the long corridor that led outside. There was still a noticeable heat in the evening air, though it was much less overwhelming compared to the kitchen, packed with fires and bodies and steam. A soft, glowing pink tinted the sky, and you were surprised at how little clouds there were.

Just to be certain, you felt underneath your dress for the piece of beech wood, relieved to brush it against your skin.

A distant sound captured your attention, somewhat like the noise of steel slashing against steel. Walking along the side of pillaring cobblestone, the noise grew louder, accompanied by indiscernible, muffled shouting. You stepped around the small wildflowers sprouting from the grass, keeping as silent as possible upon approaching the corner that ended at an iron gate.

Sparing a cautious glance between the bars, you looked into a large courtyard covered with sand. There were two young men sparring against each other, competitive but lighthearted in their expressions and the nature of how they operated their swords.

It was none other than the Prince himself, Seokmin, against his lifelong accomplice, Jeonghan.

You plucked your head back and inhaled delicately. The unique airiness of Jeonghan’s laughter reverberated into the evening, summer air, joining hymn with the sharp steel. You peaked through the iron bars again. Seokmin was still buried in his hefty silver armor, a layer of chainmail hanging from his shoulders. Expertly, he caught the underside of Jeonghan’s sword with his own and twisted the weapon from his friend’s hands, which dropped against the sand with a soft thud. Jeonghan stumbled backward, panting heavily.

“For God’s sake, I surrender!” He laughed, dusting off his shiny armor.

Seokmin slid his sword back into the sheath at his waist, smiling triumphantly. 

“You squander each attempt at defeating me. Have you just lost another bet with my blacksmith?”

Jeonghan bent down to pick up his sword and huffed, “it could be so.”

“You are inclined to become a beggar,” the Prince teased, “thankfully, tonight’s feast shall leave you with plentiful portions to take to the streets.”

There was a small, stone fountain bubbling beneath an overhang in the courtyard. Seokmin allowed a generous cup of water to form in his hands before splashing it along his face, the droplets streaming down his amber skin that had been caked with dust. Once he cleared away the grit, he ran a hand through his hair, pushing back the long, black curls. 

He smirked at Jeonghan and uttered something to him you couldn’t decipher as they removed their chainmail. You studied him intently, feeling the warmth in your chest welt into disdain and anger.

“What are you doing all the way down there?!”

You jumped, sensing your flesh bristle. Turning around, you saw Chan standing at the doorway with his brow furrowed, probably wondering why you never returned to the kitchen. Not wanting to draw attention to yourself, you hurried toward him and away from the courtyard, praying that neither the Prince nor his friend heard Chan’s shouting.

“Was there somebody out there? Who was it?” Chan immediately pestered you with questions.

“There was no one.” You told him whilst entering the kitchen, heaving a great sigh of relief upon seeing your bread removed from the clay furnace, the bread perfectly golden and risen in small domes.

Chan seemed skeptical, but he knew you were infamously defensive, so he didn’t investigate.

“Have you started the pastry for the cherry pie?” You asked him after setting the grain aside.

“No,” Chan replied, “I heard it is a favourite of the Prince. We must prepare it attentively.”

“Of course. Now, ask that lady over there if we can use her pie pan. We will start immediately.”

In complete honestly, you’d rather prepare any other dessert – even the chocolate soufflés, which were arguably difficult to perfect. However, you yet again bit your tongue and helped the eager apprentice remove the pits from the ruby red cherries, which landed in a wicker basket just at your feet. Every moment or so, you were tempted to leave behind a pit, entertaining the tiny thought that it could be inside the slice served to the Prince. You knew if that happened, neither you or Chan would be allowed to return to the castle.

It wasn’t so much skin off your nose, but Chan would definitely be disheartened.

You made sure to thoroughly clean all the cherries.

The dining hall was absolutely packed. There were rows of young pages standing at the table, hardly able to contain themselves as they stared glossy-eyed into the fresh cooked meals and desserts. No one had sat down yet, not until the King and Queen took their seats.

The Queen, swathed in the long, shimmering silk of her violet robe, observed the hungry crowd gathered before her. She was an alluring beacon, just like a porcelain doll, and the sapphire gems embossed in her crown glinted against the central chandelier. As you were specifically requested by the royal family to cook, you were granted a seat at the table, in between your mother and an anxious Chan who kept stealing glances at the Prince, standing next to his father. You refused to look at Seokmin, even when you felt his gaze trace the side of your face.

Suddenly, the Queen grabbed onto a sumptuous chalice and lifted it high in the air. She began making a toast to the newly appointed pages, congratulating the start of their journey. You copied your mother and reached for a silver goblet next to your plate, which had been prefilled with cold, dark purple wine. Everyone applauded her speech. Then, the King took over.

It was hard to pay attention, until you heard a particular name leave his mouth.

“As we continue the great customs of our ancestors who built this impenetrable kingdom, a new fate has arrived for Prince Seokmin.”

You flicked your gaze toward Seokmin, your heart hammering in your chest. His father set a hand on his shoulder, covered by a velvet, royal blue robe.

“Our son is at the rightful age to marry. After ample negotiation with the neighbouring and prosperous village of Markarth, their Lord has granted permission to his daughter, Lady Adelaide, as a possible contender. She will visit us on the summer solstice. I am prideful, and honoured, to announce this marvellous news alongside the blessed anointment of our pages.”

Instantly, you felt lightheaded, and you had to place the goblet back down on the table in order to avoid spilling the expensive wine. You knew this day would come eventually, but to hear that an arranged marriage was already brewing left a horrible taste in your mouth. The King shook his son’s shoulder with an honest pride, though Seokmin simply pressed his lips together and dipped his head slightly, acknowledging the announcement. You felt sick to your stomach. The thought of eating your beef wellington rendered you unable to even look at its outer pastry.

“Let us not dismiss the efforts of our valuable cooks, who prepared this rustic meal.” The King continued, staring in your direction.

He then praised the name of your mother, you, and Chan in specific. Everyone’s goblet remained in the air. Their gazes smeared across your flesh like wet ash.

“Is there anything you would like to say before we commence our feast?”

Your mother was ready to speak, though you managed to cut in before her.

“P-Pardon me, your Majesty, I am unbelievably humbled to cook for you tonight, but at this time I wish to be excused from the dining hall. May I part?”

Chan turned to look at you as though your hair were entangled in flames, and your mother grew notably tense. The atmosphere in the room was awfully palpable, like a thick balm that made it difficult to breathe. You could feel the pulse in your fingertips. The King then lowered his head to the Queen, and they briefly exchanged a whisper, seemingly coming to a verdict they both agreed on. Asking to be excused from a royal supper seldom occurred, if ever.

“If that is your wish,” the King said, his voice stern, “then you may part.”

You stepped away from your chair, making sure to bow toward the royal family. Seokmin was staring directly at you, his face looking hardened, cold.

“Thank you,” came your tiny response, “I hope you are delighted by the food.”

In the centre of the royal garden was a magnificent water fountain that came alive at nighttime, small, paper lanterns floating in its pool and glowing a solacing orange. You lay on your back, atop the fountain’s wide stone ledge, listening to the gushing water and staring up at the crescent moon. Everyone was still eating inside the dining hall. When you listened very intently, you could hear the faint notes of the live music. You didn’t regret leaving the supper, but you did regret not stealing a tiny bread loaf or even some fresh blackberries from the fruit baskets.  

Your stomach was aching, hungry.

Reaching down to tug up the side of your dress, you pulled out the beech wood you spotted in the grass that afternoon. You had wanted to carve something into its surface with your knife, though you weren’t sure what, and it definitely wouldn’t be possible until your mother returned the blade to you. As you held the smooth nature above your face and pressed your thumbs into its cream face, you were overcome by a new, frothing wave of anger. Seokmin was preparing to get married. The beech wood nearly split in two from your iron grip.

You hated thinking that at one point in your childhood, you genuinely liked the Prince, and harboured this flat-out embarrassing crush on him. So did everyone else, but Seokmin certainly didn’t help your malleable heart in pretending that he liked you back. You remembered it clear as day: Jeonghan, who was much smaller at the time, came bounding up to you, teeming with excitement and using his squeaky voice to tell you that Seokmin wanted to kiss you, and that you needed to meet the Prince by Peace River in the forest.

Of course, you obliged without even having to think, and your friends spent the whole morning twisting small bluebells and buttercups in your hair. When you arrived at Peace River, Seokmin was waiting for you, standing in a patch of sunlight that cut through the trees, wearing a long, silk red robe in addition to his silver crown. It was the most nervous you had ever felt in your entire life, and you remembered feeling dizzy as Seokmin gazed down at you with a sweet look in his honey eyes. The two of you leaned in closer, closer, closer…

And right when you felt his lips ghost yours, Seokmin took a step back and you heard a huge fit of laughter erupt from the thick brush in the background.

Seokmin’s friends came stumbling from their hiding spots, some holding their stomachs with how hard they were cackling, others wiping a tear from their eye, all whilst you experienced a shock bottom out in your gut. The realization that everything had been a ruse gave you a tough, metaphorical slap across the face. Jeonghan had to lean against a tree trunk as he gripped his stomach, and a familiar burn stung your cheeks upon remembering the words he coughed out, something along the lines of, “you truly thought the Prince liked you?!”

The worst part was that Seokmin didn’t say anything, he just looked at you sadly. Since then, your contempt for Seokmin blossomed, and he didn’t hesitate to bite back.

Not wanting to break the beech wood, you lowered it from your face and slid it back between the lace garter hidden beneath your dress. When you glanced at the moon, you noticed that a small, orange ball was floating above you. Sitting up, your eyes widened at the sight of numerous orange dots, glimmering all throughout the garden. You recognized them as fireflies, which had always been one of your favourite things about the night. Occasionally, you and Chan would catch the small bugs in mason jars and release them by Peace River.

One fluttered close to your face, so you stuck out your finger hoping it would land. But, out of nowhere, you heard someone walking in the grass and immediately plucked your finger away, instead peering through the moonlight where you spotted a silhouette. Once the figure came into the aurora of the water fountain, you felt your stomach drop. It was none other than the Prince himself. He was no longer wearing his royal robe, just a white poet shirt with the deep, v-shaped collar left unbuttoned, and some black capris. He wasn’t even sporting any jewelry apart from a silver bulb through his right earlobe.

“Why must you act with such blatant disrespect?” He was quick to scold you for leaving the dinner. “Could you have not sat down? Stayed out of honour and given your untouched portions to the beggars?”

You scoffed. “Do not ridicule me like one of your pages. I was asked to cook, and so I did. No more, no less.”

Seokmin huffed, blowing the black curls away from his eyes. “You were invited to eat as well.”

“I fulfilled my principal duty. There was no reason to stay.”

“You could have at least eaten something. A wedge of pie, a peach clove. For heaven’s sake, there was bread at the entryway.”

Unwilling to stay seated and argue, you stood up from the fountain and brushed off your dress, no longer paying attention to the fireflies that illuminated the garden. Of course you wished you took some food; your stomach was collapsing in on itself, though you would not admit it.

“Why are you so concerned with my meals?” You snapped. “Should you not return to your private quarters and get well rested for the summer solstice?”

After mocking his arranged marriage, you couldn’t bear to look Seokmin in the eye. For some reason, a lump got caught in your throat and you felt a hot surge push against your tear ducts.

“Judging by your poor temper, it is you who needs more rest than I.” The Prince shot back.

You couldn’t stand there any longer. Biting harshly into your bottom lip, you attempted to brush by Seokmin and exit the garden. Instead you would find the  gateway and wait until your mother and Chan arrived before leaving the castle grounds. There was food back at the house anyway, you assumed maybe some milk pudding, or sunflower seeds. It wouldn’t satiate you, but at least quell the hunger pangs until morning. However, when Seokmin grabbed your elbow you immediately flared, releasing a sharp yelp as he held you in place.

“And where do you think you’re off to?” Seokmin growled, lessening his grip on your arm and leaning in close to your face. “Come with me. I must give you something.” 

Peering into the Prince’s dark brown eyes, you snarled, “what?”

He was close enough that you could see the tiny scar on the bridge of his nose from when he and Jeonghan had chased each other with fireplace pokers. You thought about looking at his lips, pretty and pink, but refused to break eye contact. The Prince didn’t say anything, just tugged you through the garden, between the thorny rosebushes, the intricate strings of bleeding hearts, and huge pots of pastel, cotton hydrangeas. To your surprise, Seokmin guided you back into the kitchen you had occupied just a few hours ago.

Then, he opened a wood cupboard and pulled out a polished, bright silver tin, which he thrusted into your arms. You peeled the lid open and saw that the tin was filled with raspberry glazed Danishes, to which the fragrant smell of flaky pastry and berries caused your mouth to water.

“S-Seokmin, I—,” you were going to reject him.

“I am not doing charity work for you. It is the custom of our celebratory suppers to not let any guest leave unfed, or pained by hunger.”

He looked at you with a cold expression, and his tone deepened. “Now, you may wait at the front gate for your companion and mother. It is not your place to wander around my castle. I could have you arrested.”

You welcomed his threat. “I anticipate such a drastic measure if it ensures I’ll never have to see your face again.”

Seokmin didn’t look half as amused. He moved in close to your ear, his breath hitting your skin as he uttered inimically, “leave.”

During the walk home to your village quarters, Chan had already shoved an entire pastry into his mouth, licking the raspberry jam off his fingers. Your mother was eager to know who gifted you such an expensive tin alongside the Danishes. Not wanting to admit your confrontation with Seokmin, you churned up a white lie about how they were a present from another cook.

“Certainly?” She seemed quite surprised. “That is a rare gift. To my knowledge, tins with that level of embroidery are only seen inside the castle. Perhaps that cook quite liked you.”

At the early stretch of dawn, you felt someone grasp your shoulder and shake it roughly, until your eyes pulled open, groggy and blurred. You were sitting up in bed, looking bitter. Chan was next to you, and whilst he wore an apologetic expression, you could sense there was a degree of urgency to his actions.

“What’s the matter?” You hummed, digging the heel of your palm into your eye.

Just outside the windowpane, you could see the calm sunrise and feel the morning, serene warmth through the glass.

“Your mother told me to wake you, that we should head to the bakery immediately.” 

As you stumbled around your bedroom, fitting on a pair of degrading, sandalwood slippers before patting your face down with cold water from the well, you were wondering why it was so important that you attend the bakery, that your mother would need to send Chan to fetch you. Still dressed in your nightgown, you left the house alongside the young apprentice and hurried down the quiet road, passing all the tiny markets and apparel shops. As soon as the bakery came into view, you gasped, for a pearl blue carriage was stationed outside, paired to a stallion with silk, white hair. It grazed at a patch of grass and honeysuckle.

There seemed to be a crowd gathered inside the bakery, which only further piqued your curiosity. Chan couldn’t help but stroke the horse’s brilliant fur, which glowed like an amber pool due to the sunlight. You had only taken a measly step or two inside the bakery until jamming to a halt. Right before your eyes, speaking to your mother across the counter was perhaps one of the most pristinely-dressed, elegant girls to ever grace your kingdom. Her dress was long and flowing, a dark green forest jade, accented with gold lacing and a slim pair of gloves that stretched high up her arms.

Chan appeared equally stunned, for he thudded into your backside and stood staring at the girl like she was a rare type of crystal. Almost immediately, you noted the petit, twinkling tiara sitting on her head. Before she could even introduce herself, you knew exactly who she was.

“Lady Adelaide.” You heard Chan whisper to himself.

It immediately dawned on you that the summer solstice had finally arrived. The second she noted your presence at the door, her congregation of guards stepped back, allowing her to approach you. Without a second thought you bowed your head politely. She smelled like fresh clusters of jasmine and her voice was harmonious.

“I apologize, it wasn’t my intention to startle you or your apprentice,” (Chan’s face flushed a shy pink) “I heard from a guardsman of mine that your mother’s bakery is nothing short of wondrous, and I knew I had to stop here before I meet with your kingdom’s Prince.”

You stuttered straight through your teeth, “t-that’s wonderful. P-Pleased, we’re absolutely pleased to serve you, Lady Adelaide. We will prepare anything you desire.”

“Certainly.” Chan agreed.

“I’ll have to spend some time looking over the pastries,” she said jovially, “right now, I am truly awed by how delicious everything appears. My decision will come shortly.”

“Of course.” You responded, rubbing your clammy palms against your dress.

Whilst Lady Adelaide carefully inspected each pastry through the glass, your mother had pulled you and Chan into the kitchen, where she made sure it was clear you show your utmost respect toward the kingdom’s potential princess. Chan still wore a sticky blush on his cheeks, and you could tell he would be about as useful in the kitchen that day as a rock.

“No matter what she requests, we shall honour her needs and prepare it.” Your mother said. “Remember, this could be Prince Seokmin’s wife.”

You felt a streak of envy and wanted to slap yourself. 

Once Lady Adelaide made up her mind, your mother re-entered the front shop with a wide smile. Chan started washing his hands in the pail of fresh water.

“Why was I not born the Prince?” He huffed petulantly. “She is truly the most beautiful woman I have ever seen. Does everyone in Markarth have such a face?”

“Oh, cool it, would you?” Came your sharp response. “Our duty is to operate a bakery, not fall in love.”

You didn’t mean to sound so harsh, and you tried desperately to bite your tongue as you fastened on your apron and pulled up the sleeves of your nightgown. The young apprentice wasn’t lying, she was a true and glorious spectacle, one that would surely appease the King and Queen once they saw her next to their son. However, you weren’t keen on entertaining such a sight, and you dismissed it from your head whilst Chan went to the house front and helped your mother collect Adelaide’s dessert.

A week after Lady Adelaide’s arrival at the kingdom, you happened to find your pocket-sized carving knife inside a bakery drawer. You were absolutely relieved to discover it, and took advantage of your mother’s recent departure to slide it back against the garter belt wrapped around your thigh. For the time being, she was occupied at a different village, visiting her sister.

Chan worked on kneading a mound of sourdough, his sleeves rolled high up to his elbows and a cloth tied around his head, pushing back his growing brown hair. You decided to take a break from the kitchen heat, patting him on his shoulder just before you disappeared.

“Huh?” He mumbled, not bothering to look up from the dough, “where will you be?”

“Peace River.” You told him. “I will be taking a short swim.”

The piece of beech wood was already slipped inside your sleeve. Ever since Seokmin gave you that silver, embroidered tin, you placed it on your bedside table and stored the wood inside. 

“Shall I fetch some extra help in the mean time?” Chan asked, lobbing the dough onto a wooden serving board.

“Sure. Why not ask your companion from the academy? Seungkwan is it?”

“Yes.” Chan nodded.

You picked your way through town until you arrived at the pathway that lead into the forest. The dirt was padded down by a century of footsteps, animal paws and wagon wheels, though the soft grass that grew next to it tickled up past your ankles and bloomed with small, purple flowers. You loved walking through the forest, hearing the noises of the village become increasingly muted, replaced by tree branches that gently rocked against each other in the breeze as well as the sweet songbirds.

Upon reaching the river, you sat down on a rock just in front of the grassy bank and pulled out your carving knife. The river created a bubbling waterfall, and whilst you took hold of the beech wood, deciding what to carve, you listened to the trickling sounds. Still unsure of what to scratch in the wood, you continued shaving down its edges until the piece lost its rectangular shape and became more oval. Once you were satisfied with its rounder appearance, you brushed the wispy flakes from your lap, deciding it was time to test the river.

You removed the layers of your dress until you were in nothing but your undergarments, the sunshine that rained between the leaves warm against your skin. After wrapping the beech wood into your clothing, you set the fabric behind a strawberry bush, though left your carving knife folded and sitting on the rock. The river water was cold, but not freezing, and for a few moments you stood knee deep with your eyes closed, allowing the quiet breeze and sunrays to mellow your heartbeat. Then you proceeded to wade in further, until the water lapped up against your chin.

As much as you longed to enjoy the cool river, there was one problem that arose after a few minutes of swimming. 

You heard distant galloping becoming closer and closer, accompanied by the rattling of metallic armour and conversation. Not wanting to make your presence known, you paddled beneath the overhanging rock that created the waterfall, the downpour completely soaking your hair whilst the heavy scent of moss stuck to the stone. You were curious as to who could be arriving at the river. Carefully, you peeked around corner of the overhang.

You felt your blood turn to ice.

It was Seokmin and Adelaide. Her arms were wrapped around the Prince’s waist as he held onto the reins of his beautiful, caramel horse named Apple. You remembered the mare’s name because you were the one who suggested it as kids. Seokmin shook the reins once more, and Apple walked closer to the river, already beginning to graze at the sweet grass lining the bank. Seokmin seemed to be educating Adelaide about the river, though you really had to strain to hear what he was saying. He hopped down cleanly from the horse before assisting the Lord’s lady.

She was no longer wearing her jade dress, but a white gown with many ruffles at the skirt. Her eyes were wide and sparkling whilst she examined the forest. Seokmin set a hand on her waist, gesturing to something in the trees you couldn’t see. The Prince was standing in a patch of sunlight just like he did on that summer day when you were children, waiting to kiss you—well, more like humiliate you, but his amber skin still shone the same, and the way the light reflected off his broad, silver armour depicted just how much he’d grown since then.

Closing your eyes, you listened intently for his words.

“Everyone who visits this river is known to experience a beautiful sense of peace, and calm, hence, why it is known as Peace River.”

Adelaide pressed a kiss to Seokmin’s jaw. “I have never seen such a tranquil sight. Oh, Prince Seokmin, it’s beautiful!”

Whilst Apple continued nipping at the grass, Adelaide squatted down next to the river and let the water gush between her fingers, covered in opal and amethyst rings. She was crooning about how pretty the gems looked beneath the current to Seokmin, though you noted the young Prince wasn’t exactly listening. Something caught his attention – your carving knife, which you left sitting on the goddamn rock. Gulping heavily, you watched as Seokmin picked up the blade and inspected it closely. Immediately, you swam away from the corner when he began squinting around the clearing, as though he were attempting to spot the knife’s owner.

The worst part: Seokmin knew who that carving knife belonged to. He knew it was yours, for he offered it to you, a gift from his blacksmith, a few days before the horrible kissing incident.

When you gathered the courage to peer around the corner again, you saw Seokmin help Lady Adelaide back onto Apple’s saddle. He still had your blade in his hand, to which you watched in complete shock as the Prince ordered his horse onward, deeper into the forest. You cursed him relentlessly under your breath. That bastard, he just took your carving knife! When you only discovered its whereabouts no less than half an hour ago! Boiling with fury, you left the river, threw on the clothes over your wet skin, and marched back into town with your beech wood.

The next time you saw the Prince, you weren’t going to let him off easy.

It was the night of the Super Moon Festival.

Raised high amongst the depths of the vast, black sky was the crater itself, bright, shining, and larger than ever. A chilly wind had turned the air quite nippy, and whilst Chan sat next to you, tentatively sipping a warm jar of gold, apple cider, you were simmering in complete bitterness. You had always embraced each festival, especially the Super Moon Festivals, which promised ample fortune unto the kingdom in addition to a prosperous summer; however, that night you couldn’t force even the slightest elation. 

Prince Seokmin still had your carving knife.

A great deal of folk had concentrated to the village square, where the celebration was most vibrant. Certain people had linked arms, dancing to the live music, whilst others were releasing paper lanterns of different colours and shapes into the night sky. There were plenty of drinking games, festive food, and buzzing conversations entangled throughout the square. You were shaking your leg, watching intensely as the Prince and his friends were gathered by an old wagon in the far corner, drinking tall tins of frothy ale, laughing loudly into the crisp, cool air.

Suddenly, Chan nudged your shoulder.

“Is everything alright?” He asked. “Why do you continue staring at the Prince?”

You peeled your gaze from Seokmin, though the contort of your features remained. Lady Adelaide was nowhere to be spotted. There were rumours that she would be arriving later, that the band would play a special slow song, just so she could share a dance with the Prince.

“I must speak with him.” You replied.

Chan wrapped his cold hands tighter around the apple cider, casting you a peculiar glance.

“Why is that? Has he done something?”

You knew you couldn’t wait forever. Seokmin’s tightknit ensemble didn’t look like it was going to thin anytime soon, and if you allowed the night to end, you would have missed your chance.

“Be right back.” You uttered sharply to the young apprentice as you rose from your chair, leaving Chan to sit alone with his drink.

He could only gaze after you in a thick confusion. It was definitely nerve-wracking to approach the Prince so boldly, especially when he was swathed by his closest friends, all whom lived inside the castle or carried high profiles in the upper scale village. You almost walked straight through a dancing couple on your march across the large square, though you tried not to let any crumb of doubt or intimidation thwart you from retrieving your carving blade. Without a word, you shoved your way between the muscular bodies, ignoring their surprised scoffs.

Seokmin’s eyes were almost as wide as the moon when you stood before him. He stopped leaning against the wagon’s tall wheel and left his half-finished ale on the ledge.

“Return it to me.” You stated simply, holding out your palm.

“Who the hell is that?” One of his friends chided, clearly not amused that you just pushed through their private celebration only to speak rudely at the Prince.

Seokmin’s brow furrowed. “Return what?” He responded. 

His acting utterly irritated you.

“Do not behave so obliviously,” you barked, “come with me, now.”

Wrapping your fingers through the collar of his shirt, you attempted to pull Seokmin away from his companions. Understandably, they were not willing to lose their royal member so easily, which prompted Jeonghan to grab your arm. It came as a slight surprise to you when Seokmin snapped, “do not touch her,” causing him to withdraw his grip, his expression paling. The Prince ensured his companions that he would return soon, only to follow you down a quiet alley, away from the colourful celebration and boasting music.

Folding your arms over your chest, you glared at the boy.

“I want my knife returned.”

Straightening out his collar that you had noticeably crumbled, the Prince scoffed, a smirk trudging across mouth.

“You should not leave any personal property out where it could be discovered.” 

“You knew it was mine and yet you still took it.”

“So you were watching me, is that it?” He had the audacity to smile.

In order to contain your fulgurant anger, you clenched your fists tightly at your sides.

“Indeed I watched you take it! Now give it back!”

“Do not get so ahead of yourself.” Seokmin flashed a devious smile, one you wanted to wipe clean from his snide expression.

He reached into his pocket, and beneath the frosted moonlight, you saw him reveal your precious carving knife. You traced his fingers as he unfolded the silver blade and admired the mahogany handle, etched with the smallest, intricate embellishment. If you were swift enough, you could snatch the knife from his hand, but you weren’t sure if the risk was calculated. The Prince gently pressed the pad of his finger to the point, hardly issuing any pressure.

“This did not always belong to you.” He stated simply.

“I know that,” you quipped, “but you decided to gift it to me. So it no longer falls under your property.”

Seokmin blatantly ignored your rebuttal. Instead, he folded up the blade and dared pocket it right before your eyes. You gaped at him.

“Why were you at Peace River?”

“What?!” Feeling completely bewildered, you couldn’t help the loud air of your gasp.

He asked again, “why were you at Peace River? Were you hiding somewhere?”

“That is not your business!” You barked.

Seokmin seemed to adapt your hue of disproportionate awe. 

“It is not my business?” He took a step forward, though you didn’t shy from his advance. “I am your Prince. You shall answer what I ask of you.”

“Why do you care why I was there? Should you not focus on the wonderful time you had showing around your dear lady?”

The young Prince’s face didn’t exactly soften upon your reference to Adelaide, rather there was a subtle shift in the nuance of his gaze, where something murky tinted the surface. It was difficult to pinpoint, but you almost swore that mentioning Adelaide had made Seokmin unhappy. To make the matter more confusing, he was clearly examining your features, from the curve of your lips to the arch above each cheek, you were like a memory he could never lose.

Your heart started beating faster, and you felt dearly flustered.

“I-I was only swimming,” you answered him, “that’s all you must know.”

You hated your body for betraying you, for submitting, for twirling itself in a moonstruck loop at the mere thought of Seokmin needing to commit your face to memory. Wanting to feel angry again, you tightened your voice.

“Now, I answered your question. I have pulled you away for one thing and one thing only: my knife. I do not care that your blacksmith crafted it for you, that it was once yours before it was mine. You gave it to me. I want it back.”

“Mind your manners,” the Prince scolded, his eyes turning icy, less forgiving, “I cannot oblige when you create such a fuss.”

Digging your nails in deep to the fabric of your dress, you exhaled shakily.

”I am going to lose my temper, Prince Seokmin. I want my blade, now.”

He took a step toward you, so close you could smell the rich ale on his clothing. His voice had lowered an octave, to which you swallowed coarsely and had trouble locking eyes with him.

“First, you rudely interrupt my friends and I. Second, you speak to me informally, with no respect, not even bothered to fake it. Third, you drag me to this alley and refuse the command of your Prince to summon an ounce of manner. Clean your mouth, or forget the knife.”

Your jaw clenched, and you started to grit your teeth. Seokmin was not exactly fond of the fact that you wouldn’t make eye contact, therefore he placed a light hold on your chin with his index finger and thumb, tilting your head toward him.

“Look at me when I speak to you.” He growled.

A concerning heat infiltrated your body; however, gulping back the rage that burned against your throat, you pulled down his hand, looked straight into his eyes and hissed, “you do not deserve my manners, but for the sake of the situation, may I please have my knife returned, Prince Seokmin?”

He reached into his pocket.

“I am shocked someone so ill-mannered is permitted to live in this kingdom.”

Cocking your head to the side, you watched the boy reveal your carving knife.

“I could effortlessly say the same for you.”

Seokmin handed you the blade, studying you intently whilst you picked up the side of your dress in order to return your prized possession between the thigh garter. Even in the darkness, his cheeks had noticeably pinkened. 

“Enjoy the remainder of your night.” You gave him an exaggerated, distasteful bow before walking down the alley, away from the village square. “Do not keep Lady Adelaide waiting.”

The young Prince didn’t bother responding, only chewed into his bottom lip as you disappeared from his sight, his heart beating uncharacteristically fast.

Somehow, you and Chan had ended up back in the royal kitchen.

It was in light of a specific request pitted by the King and Queen, in which they desired you to cook a delicious dinner for Prince Seokmin and Lady Adelaide as they enjoyed their umpteenth date together. You attempted to avoid the situation last minute by faking a dry cough and sore throat, though your mother was far too intelligent to let any elementary performances fool her, resulting in yet another attendance award at the castle. Chan was excited as usual, evident in the small curl to his lips whilst he cleaned his hands in a bucket of well water.

“I never understand you,” Chan said, “why are you never content to visit the castle?”

Tying an apron at your lower back, you simply huffed in response to the young apprentice, not willing to reiterate the whole spiel about your childhood mishap as well as the years of hatred that nurtured it. You knew you seemed ungrateful, stuck-up, but it wasn’t anyone’s business.

“It is not something to concern yourself with,” you told Chan, taking his place at the bucket of cold water, “I am going to cook their meal, and that is all. No more, no less.”

“When do you think we will receive their menu?” Chan asked.

“Whenever it is given to us.”

The royal kitchen was indubitably stocked with produce that could cater to any dish, it was just a matter of awaiting the particular meals Lady Adelaide and Seokmin were keen on eating. Still, you had to agree with Chan, there was an anxious density to the room whilst you prepared your stations, hoping that at least some form of authority would enter the kitchen to update you.

Chan opened a cupboard and found a burlap sack of cherries. He grinned, “do you think Prince Seokmin will want to eat cherry pie again?”

“Beats me,” you shrugged, “maybe he’ll desire a pineapple upside down cake.”

“That sounds complicated.” Chan admitted with a frown.

You chuckled, “he’s complicated.”

“Who’s complicated?”

Suddenly, the Prince appeared in the entryway to the kitchen, dressed in a long, garnet cape that draped around his shoulders, embroidered with a dazzling gold thread. His hair, usually left in its black ringlets, had been groomed neatly from his forehead. His crown looked heavy, precious and incomprehensibly expensive. Both you and Chan were stunned by his abrupt appearance, to which the apprentice dropped a pile of tins he’d been removing from a cupboard. They clattered across the stone floor, and his cheeks turned red.

Whilst the young boy quickly picked up each tin, you cleared your throat.

“N-No one. We were speaking about no one.”

Chan hurried to stand beside you, and he bowed immediately.

“Greetings, Prince Seokmin. Must I say it is a complete honour to cook for you and Lady Adelaide tonight. I shall put forth my best effort.”

“I am pleased to hear that,” Seokmin said, commending the boy’s display of respect, “I have arrived to deliver the menu Lady Adelaide and I would like to eat.”

The Prince then handed Chan a scroll, which had been tied shut with a tasseled, red string. As Chan busied himself in opening the paper to glean its request, Seokmin glanced you over from top to bottom. You shot him a transient glare.

Folding your arms over your chest and titling your head to the side, you announced, “we will bring your food as soon as possible.”

“Is everything well with you?” Seokmin inquired, raising an eyebrow.

Chan looked up from the unwound scroll nervously, clearly noting the palpable tension.

“Yes, Prince Seokmin. I feel brilliant.” Your tone was drier than chalk.

Some twisted part of you hoped that the Prince would pull you into the corridor, scold you for behaving so blatantly disrespectful, lean in close to your face with a fire that turned to glistering copper in his eyes. You wanted him to grip your chin like he did in the alleyway and demand you meet his gaze. In a bizarre sense, you craved to argue with him. However, Seokmin didn’t engage in anything of the sort, and a vacant feeling encompassed you whole.

“I must return to Lady Adelaide. We will be seated on the outdoor terrace, second level.”

“Yes, of course,” Chan chirped, “I will bring your appetizer shortly.”

“May it also be known that the furnace next to you Chan has not been properly cleaned from a previous service. Do not try to light any fire, or the residue could burn you.”

Chan glanced at the stove warily whilst you released an impatient sigh.

“You should really get going, sire. It’s never polite to make your lady wait.”

The Prince chuckled, and a bold smirk illuminated his face.

“Have you ever been left to wait, darling?” He asked, biting his bottom lip.

After blowing a tuft of hair from your eyes, you folded your arms over your chest and caught the young Prince in a piercing stare.

“Why must you know? I don’t kiss and tell.”

Chan had not a clue as to what sort of exchange was unpacking before him, he only knew that his presence seemed unbelievably trivial, like a dust mite. You couldn’t deny how satisfactory it felt to wind Seokmin tighter than a wire spool, attempting to snap him somehow, hoping he’d bite back brazenly.

His professional composure was teetering, you could see it. And yet, the Prince was able to sweep away his desires to bicker with you. 

“Aren’t you such a well-behaved little girl?” He dug slyly, the backhanded compliment imbuing a strange rush in your blood. “I have no further business here. As I said, we are seated on the second level terrace.”

The second Seokmin parted, his beautiful cloak fluttering behind him, Chan nudged your shoulder with a big pout on his lips.

“Are you trying to get us banned from the castle? If so, you might just succeed.”

Stealing the scroll from his hands, you urged him to relax.

“Trust me,” you sighed, “I would get banned before any other soul here. Even before the cook who caused a fire hazard.”

You had great trouble focusing in the kitchen, and it seemed like your brain contained no interest in cooperating with the rest of your body. Chan noted your lack of composure and intervened on multiple occasions, a concerned expression covering his face.

It was stupid, shameful, but for an unbeknownst reason you could not stop envisioning Seokmin and Adelaide enjoying their supper together on the pretty terrace. You imagined his soft, attentive eyes tracing her lips whilst she spoke, his hand reaching across the table to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear’s cusp, the evening sun dappling the sky golden and peach-rose. It lit a terrible feeling within your lower gut, a feeling that upset you beyond belief, made you want to run from the kitchen and bury yourself beneath mounds of bedsheets.

The thought of Seokmin marrying Adelaide, sliding that white diamond ring upon her finger, having to watch them parade around the kingdom completely and utterly in love; you hated it, and you kept losing your concentration as that bitterness consumed you.

“They seem to be enjoying everything.” Chan confirmed with a satisfied smile toward the end of service. He just returned after collecting their dishes. “At last, we can begin dessert!”

However, the boy quickly picked up on your temperate, distracted face.

“What’s the matter?” Chan grabbed your shoulder gently. “You look so upset.”

“I’m fine,” you dismissed him with an apathetic air, brushing his touch away, “will they be eating the cherry pie as you assumed? I have already prepared the crust.”

“Yes…” Chan leaned in rather close to examine your face whilst he hummed in response.

“For heaven’s sake, child—what are you doing?”

“S-Sorry,” he immediately backed away, “I-I thought—your eyes just looked so glassy.”

“I have already stated my wellbeing. Now, please get to making the filling so we may get this pie in the furnace.”

Chan grabbed the burlap sack of cherries from the cupboard and dumped them into an apple basket. He then submerged the basket in a water pail, making sure to clean the fruit until they were glistening and shiny. Together, you removed the cherry pits in order to create the sweet, sticky filling which smelled exactly like summer. Chan let you tend to setting the furnace flame whilst he leveled out the pies; however, you’d forgotten about the unusable furnace.

As you got down on your knee and reached into the underbelly of the oven with the starter flint, it was too late for Chan to make a reminder. Once the bright spark touched that mysterious residue, a gigantic flame bloomed forth and licked up the furnace walls. The second your hand felt such an incredible singe of heat, you released a loud cry and crawled away from the glowing oven, your chest heaving at the intense, searing pain that sizzled deep into your flesh. Chan was gobsmacked. He dropped the small butter knife in the pie filling and bent down whilst you tossed your head back, cursing at the pain.

“Oh God!” Chan looked paler than a snowflake. “Y-You have been burned! O-Oh no… this- this is awful! What should we do? H-Here—”

The boy helped you to your feet and brought you close to the water pail.

“Submerge your hand in this,” he offered anxiously, wiping away a bead of sweat from his forehead, “I need to alert someone of this. Are you okay? Do you believe you might faint?”

“N-No…” you gritted between your teeth whilst heavy tears streamed down your cheeks, “just get somebody – anybody. I-It hurts terribly…”

The boy rubbed your back as a sweet gesture before he left the kitchen. 

“I shall return as quickly as possible! I promise!”

Unfortunately, Chan had sparse luck encountering anyone from the castle. The sole person he could think of alerting was Prince Seokmin. Whilst he was not eager to interrupt his dinner with the kingdom’s potential princess, Chan was far too concerned with your agonizing pain as well as the poor condition of your hand. He knew you needed medical assistance immediately, therefore he burst through the doors in a panic and stumbled onto the terrace, where Prince Seokmin and Lady Adelaide gave him a puzzled, somewhat undesirable look.

The young apprentice steadied his breath. Once he began informing them of the situation, he couldn’t help but note the overwhelming concern that engulfed the Prince’s face.

“I must know where the nearest nurse is located. She needs assistance and I promised I would return quickly!”

Lady Adelaide wiped the corners of her mouth with a cloth, and looked to Seokmin. Her eyes, brushed with a shimmering, metallic gold, widened beneath the evening light as the Prince stood from his chair and threw down his cutlery.

“You have left her alone? Where is she?” He questioned the apprentice.

Chan licked his dry lips. “P-Please, stay with Lady Adelaide. I-I just need to know wh—”

“Does she remain in the kitchen?” Seokmin interrupted him.

He stepped fairly close to Chan, the young boy tilting his head back in order to meet the serious gaze of the Prince. Admittedly, he felt rather intimidated.

“Yes, she is. But you mustn’t abandon Lady Adelaide. I can—”

“I will take care of her,” Seokmin replied sternly, “stay with the Lady if you wish.”

Without another word, the Prince pushed Chan aside and disappeared quickly through the terrace doors, leaving him alone on the beautiful terrace with Adelaide. She didn’t appear entirely thrilled to be abandoned in the midst of a romantic dinner, indicated by the uncomfortable expression that coloured her face. Instead, she tucked the hair behind her ears and pressed her smooth lips together tightly, staring out into the flossy, pink clouds, a calm breeze blowing through the air. Chan swallowed the rock in his throat, squeezing his hands nervously.

“I-I’m sure the Prince will return in due time.” He stuttered.

Lady Adelaide nodded, stiffened, unamused.

“I guess I will just have to wait.”

Standing at the pail whilst your marred flesh scorched beneath the water was a sensation unlike any other. Your bottom lip kept quivering, and your whole body trembled in an attempt to digest such an intense pain. Footsteps reverberated outside the kitchen, to which a hope flourished that a medical professional would be arriving alongside Chan – yet, the person who entered the room was completely disproportionate to what you’d been expecting. It wasn’t that you didn’t want his help, it was just going to be difficult to accept it.

Seokmin left his crown behind on a countertop and stood next to you.

“Let me see it.” He urged as your hand twitched in the water.

Rubbing your tears off on your shoulder, you rasped, “w-why are you here?”

“Because you’re hurt,” Seokmin replied firmly, “and whether you like it or not, I am going to look after this. You should have your hand beneath running water.”

“W-Where is Chan? I w-want him here t-too.”

“He remained with Adelaide.” The Prince sounded impatient.

“W-Why did you not stay with her? Why did you even come when you cannot stand me?”

Choosing to ignore your questions, Seokmin grabbed your wrist, pulling you to the back of the kitchen where he knew there was a well. Suckling back the thick tears and runniness in your nose, you let Seokmin guide your injured hand beneath the cold water he started pumping from the ground. It splashed onto the stone floor, trickling in all directions.

“S-Seokmin—,”

“Just keep quiet for one minute,” the Prince snapped, “I know that is strenuous for someone as verbose as you, but right now, allow me to take care of you, alright?”

For an unprecedented time in your life, you legitimately heeded Seokmin’s words and kept your mouth shut, deciding it was not worth the energy to act so bitter. Whilst the running water succeeded in cleaning any sediment from the wound, the sensitive flesh stung and flared to a degree that was impossible to ignore, leaving you unable to suppress any small sobs and whimpers. If not for Seokmin holding your hand beneath the water, you would have withdrawn it immediately. 

You pushed your face into his chest, your tears wetting his clothing. Seokmin shushed you softly, attempting to keep you calm.

“I know it hurts, but you’re doing so well, okay? A minute longer darling, I promise.”

You felt Seokmin’s chin sit on top of your head, and you only pushed your cheek in further against his strong chest, smelling the faint concoction of a luxurious perfume on his amber skin. Somehow, the pain became more bearable when his honeyed voice touched your ears.

“H-Has it been a minute now?” You sniffled.

The cold stream of water that once gushed from the spout diminished. Whilst the floor was rippling with a wide, wet circle, your hand felt less seared, less like a piece of charred meat.

“Mmhm, it’s been a minute,” Seokmin said, “how badly does it still hurt?”

Glancing at the wound imbued an intense cloud of nausea.

“I-It’s throbbing, a-and stings. Should we not wrap it?” You blubbered.

Seokmin brushed his fingers along your warm cheek, removing the new tears.

“Not immediately, angel. If the flesh is too fragile, the cloth might pull up more layers of tissue when it is removed. There should be an ointment station, over here—,” the Prince placed his hand against the small of your back, and you followed him toward a counter, “if the correct gel is in here, my hope is that it soothes your skin. Afterward, we will wrap it cautiously.”

Your injured hand was shaking too much, so you had to grasp your wrist tightly in order to centre it to one place. Seokmin opened a drawer filled with small, glass ampules. He picked between them carefully until coming across the correct ointment, a clear gel that had a strong, plant-like scent when he pulled out the tiny cork. Smearing the glistening gel onto his fingertips, the Prince then asked to see your hand. Knowing it would sting, you clenched your teeth.

“I’m not being too rough, am I?” Seokmin asked, concentrating on softly massaging in the vital ointment.

Exhaling stiltedly, you shook your head. “It’s getting better, I believe.”

“This is quite deep,” he remarked, scooping up more of the gel, “why on earth did you use the furnace upon my instruction not to?”

“I was not thinking about the furnace.” You admitted, biting down into your cheek.

Seokmin couldn’t help but chuckle. 

He had just finished applying the cool gel, which gleamed on your skin and sunk into the damaged tissue. Additionally, stuffed somewhere in the drawer was a compact spool of bandage that the Prince started unraveling, until he tore a perfect strip to delicately wrap around your hand. Your heart began racing and heat stippled your face as the boy finally looked up from the injury. His eyes were so unbelievably gentle, his lips the colour of roses. It reflected a painstakingly familiar memory, in which you could almost hear the river running in the background and feel the pleasant sunlight warm your arms.

“Then what was on your mind?” Seokmin questioned.

His voice was low, and he stared unabashedly at your mouth.

You didn’t think – you didn’t want to. 

Instead, you pushed to the very back of your skull every malevolent thought you once harboured toward the Prince and shut your eyes, envisioning yourself within a dream. You pressed a short, soft kiss against his mouth.

There was a moment’s pause where Seokmin realized the situation.

Suddenly, he cupped the sides of your face in his tender hands, urging you forward again, his lips brushing yours in such a gentle manner that a shiver tingled down your spine. It was far from a single, fleeting kiss. Each time your lips pressed together, you would linger for a moment longer and fall deeper into the other, losing all sense of the world around you. A molten warmth expanded in your chest as you felt Seokmin’s tongue make a soft prod at your bottom lip, encouraging you to sigh blissfully into the kiss. He smiled at your quiet noises.

What was happening to you? You struggled to control your own functions. Seokmin was eliciting a powerful feeling that yearned for you to continue kissing. His slender fingers drifted from your face to your hips, and he pulled you tighter against his body, each kiss revealing the other’s burning want and secret desires. As you suckled slowly on Seokmin’s tongue, listening to him purr, there was a rich, unique taste of cider. It prompted you to think about dinner, about Chan who’d gone looking for a nurse, about Lady Adelaide. 

As soon as her face entered your mind, something switched off inside you and your blood transformed into cold liquid.

“S-Seokmin,” you murmured, disconnecting the sweet pressure of your mouth to his, “I-I... I don’t think we’re in our right minds.” 

Your eyes began filling with water whilst you gazed at his pink cheeks and the pretty swell to his lips. The boy grabbed both your hands with a concerned expression, holding them against his chest where you felt his heart beat.

“What do you mean, angel?” Seokmin whispered. He then planted a kiss much too affectionate against your forehead, in which your eyes only grew more watery. “I haven’t anything to drink if that’s what you’re implying.”

“N-No.” You shook your head and looked into his eyes, swallowing back the dreadful taste of pain, of a relationship you could never have, of a boy you could never have. “We cannot do this... t-this is not just...”

“Wait—” Seokmin stuttered when you pulled away from him, “where are you going? We can talk about this.” His voice trembled slightly, heavy with sorrow.

“Stay with me, please.” 

But there was nothing he could say or do that would cement you to your spot.

An overwhelming wave of emotion surged through your body, and you knew you had to leave the castle grounds unless you wanted the royal family to see you explode into a mess of hot tears and incoherency. Whilst you slipped through the kitchen door, you bumped into Chan who just returned from the second level terrace, his eyes growing wide when he noted the dreadful shadow that hollowed your countenance. The boy swallowed thickly, for the next person to enter the hallway was Lady Adelaide herself, who did not look pleased at the wait.

“A-Are you o—”

“I cannot stay here,” you told Chan in a quick jumble, “I am going to the house. Please, take care of the dessert if you can manage.”

Lady Adelaide stepped aside, allowing you to escape the corridor.

Everything felt like it was collapsing around you.

It was nighttime as you sat in your bed, a candle flickering on the windowsill whilst you examined the neat bandages that enveloped your hand. You couldn’t sleep. Chan was sent home early from the castle by Prince Seokmin, and he attempted to check on you with plentiful knocks to the front door; however, you didn’t possess the right spirit to answer him and instead covered your teary face with the bedsheets until he left. You were infuriated at yourself for kissing the Prince. Inside, your heart felt mercilessly torn up and shredded.

Continuing to look out the window, you were intrigued by a fluttering, orange orb that eventually paused on the leaves of a tall sunflower. It was a firefly.

Quickly, you reached for the silver Danish tin on your bedside table and pulled out the carving knife in addition to the small, smooth disc of beech wood. It was difficult to make incisions in the wood with an injured hand, though you simply bit your lip and didn’t allow the pain to phase you. Making tiny scratches with the fine, sharp tip of the blade, you spent the next hour, maybe more, carving a tiny firefly into the beech wood. When you looked back into your drawer, you spotted a silver-beaded chain, and an idea instantly shaped in your head.

You decided to make the wooden emblem into a necklace.

From the kitchen, you could hear Chan speaking with a new ensemble of customers who entered the bakery, the sound of their abundant coins rattling across the countertop and the apprentice’s cheerful tone as he wrapped their food in wax parchment. You hadn’t spent much time behind the counter that day, for your mood was no better than a cat who’d just been stuck in a thunderstorm. Chan advised you to stay in the kitchen instead. Since that morning, you’d either been making loaves of banana bread or staring into space.

There seemed to be an unsettled atmosphere about the kingdom. Most if not always, it indicated there was a problem at the castle, some sort of dispute amongst the royal family.

Whilst you waited for the loaves in the furnace to rise, you put your head down on the work bench and gazed at the stone floor. You had never felt so off-kilter. The fact you couldn’t do much more than mush bananas and whisk together a batter only added to your melancholy. After burning your hand, you were rather useless in the kitchen, though Chan had a much politer way of wording it whenever you attempted to help him with anything the least bit complex. You wouldn’t be surprised if he replaced you with Seungkwan in the near future.

Once the aromatic, sweet scent of the banana bread thoroughly encompassed the kitchen, you checked on the tin and decided it was time to remove it. Letting the bread sit next to an open window, you heard more muffled conversation through the door.

Suddenly, Chan had slipped into the kitchen. His expression was awfully nervous, to which an unpleasant feeling began brewing your lower gut.

“Your presence is needed at the counter.” Chan said flatly.

“Why is that?” You smiled. “I thought you preferred me locked up back here until closing.”

When the apprentice didn’t return your warmth, you knew there was something wrong.

“You are really needed at the counter.” He urged. “I will cut the bread, okay?”

“O-Okay…” You responded in a puzzled manner, allowing Chan to slip around you and grab a butter knife from the drawer.

Walking out from the kitchen was equivalent to getting a slap in the face, a splinter between your toes, a hard poke in the eye – basically anything undesirable constituted the situation you just introduced yourself to. Prince Seokmin stood on the opposite side of the counter. It appeared as though he recently returned from a valley trip with a congregation of other knights, for he was dressed in his heavyset armour and Apple was tied to a post outside shop.

Seokmin brushed his hair back and smiled at you.

“I know you are surprised to see me, but—,”

“No no no,” you shook your head and gripped the counter tightly, your legs feeling like thin jelly, “you cannot be here, y-you cannot—”

“I have to speak with you.” Seokmin said.

Your eyes flitted toward a metal bucket sitting in the corner.

“Not right now,” you spluttered quickly, “I have to refill the water, for our kitchen.”

The Prince frowned. You were surprised he wasn’t swathed in his usual entourage, that his closest companion, Jeonghan, was nowhere to be seen. Whilst you scooped the bucket from the floor and rushed toward the bakery doorway, Seokmin knew you were only using it as an excuse to avoid him. What else could you do? Your heart was far too fragile.

“This is just as much an inconvenience to myself as well as you,” the Prince announced very staidly, “you know this conversation must happen. Why bother avoiding it?”

Seokmin followed you through the doorway, where Apple was grazing at a patch of honeysuckle in the grass. You refused to look back at him.

“Exactly! It is an inconvenience that can easily be avoided if you return to the castle.”

Marching behind the bakery, you threw the metal bucket on the ground and kicked it under the well, pumping it full of cold water. .

“I refuse to return. Not until we talk about what happened!”

“Maybe I do not want to entertain that idea!” You let go of the handle, instead whipping around, facing the persistent Prince. “It was a mistake! That’s it!”

Seokmin shook his head. “Why are you so hostile? Why can you never discuss anything without starting an argument?”

You didn’t bother suppressing your scoff. “Have you ever noticed the only person I treat with such hostility, is you? Has that ever crossed your mind, Prince Seokmin?”

“Of course I know!” He quipped whilst frustratedly dragging a hand through his curls. “It has always been that way! That is why I always have to scorn you, since you behave so bitterly!”

“There is no one but yourself to blame.” You hissed, sensing the water prickle at your eyes.

The Prince looked stunned, for his mouth dropped open. “You still hold onto that memory so vehemently?”

At even the slightest reference to that humiliating, summer day forever engrained in your past, the heat flooded your eyes and you were completely helpless to stop the first tear from rolling down your cheek. There was no doubt, since that incident your hatred for Seokmin had completely blossomed, and in response to your poorly controlled anger, the Prince was left no choice but to respond with just as much belligerence. The ground between you grew terribly thick brambles and spikes, until it was impossible to even be in the same space without getting hurt.

Yet, if your hatred was exactly what you claimed it was, then your kiss with Seokmin should have never happened. Hatred was merely a dark, sinister form of passion, and no matter what circumstance, passion always lived inside your heart.

Wiping the tears away with the sleeve of your dress, you shook your head. “You humiliated me in front of half the royal’s children! How could I ever dismiss that?”

The Prince furrowed his brow. “That was ages ago. We were exactly that: children. Children can be stupid and say stupid and do stupid things!”

“I just don’t understand why you pretended for so long,” you whimpered to Seokmin, tightly clenching your fists, “if you never even liked me from the start…”

“I-I wasn’t pretending… I just couldn’t… I-I…” The Prince struggled to elaborate.

Suddenly, he could no longer look you in the eye, and a raspberry tint flooded his cheeks. You gulped, a dizzying sensation infiltrating your head as you willed your heart to stop beating so vivaciously. 

Seokmin took a step closer toward you, an anxious colour to his face.

“If you just let me explain what I came here to tell you,” he murmured, “then perhaps we wouldn’t be at each other’s throats so adamantly.”

You folded your arms over your chest and pressed your lips shut. The silence was daunting, but at the same time you realized the bickering would lead to endless circles.

The Prince summoned a breath of courage and met your wet stare.

“I refused the marriage to Lady Adelaide. She will return to Markarth before the sunset. I only told my mother and father this morning.”

Slowly uncrossing your arms, you blinked at Seokmin in complete shock.

“S-Seriously?” You stammered, sweat tainting your palms.

“I had to,” Seokmin sighed, his eyes trailing the grass, “because of what happened with u—”

“I did not ask you to refuse her as a bride!” You hiccupped, salt glimmering at your tear ducts. To be the reason the kingdom’s next marriage crumpled apart, you couldn’t bear it.

“I know you didn’t!” The Prince retaliated, his voice booming. “Do you not think I am already aware of the great misfortune and trouble my decision brings to our kingdom? I did not refuse Lady Adelaide because we kissed – I refused the marriage because I do not love her, and it would be an utter disservice to both of us if we cannot reciprocate our own hearts.”

You bit down strictly on your bottom lip. It absolutely boggled your mind that Seokmin felt no love toward Lady Adelaide, when everyone who saw her fell head over heels. Whether it was her beauty, wealth, or the perfect sweetness of her character, everyone in the kingdom had something positive to say in regards to their potential princess. Maybe you had not gelled with her in the same manner as everyone else, but you knew this marriage had been anticipated since the day Seokmin was born, and the fact such a monumental celebration would have to be pushed back created a recipe for tension.

The Prince set his hand on your shoulder, squeezing softly.

“That is what I had to tell you,” he spoke in a much gentler tone, “it was not my intention to anger you, or make you this upset. But I have to remain honest with myself…”

“W-What are you saying?” Sounded your trembling, unsteady breath.

The sunlight splashed into Seokmin’s eyes, igniting them in a blazing copper. You felt swelteringly hot as the boy brushed against your cheek with his fingers before he leaned in close to your face, still damp with tears. You couldn’t concentrate on anything apart from the low velvet of his voice and how sincerely he admired you.

“I’m saying that I’m in love with you.”

Just before you entered the cool balm of the river, you spent a few moments stroking Apple’s caramel mane and picking berries from the nearest thicket to feed her. For such a strong, firmly-built horse, she was delicate in nature, just as you remembered her from your childhood. You ran your palm along the coarse side of Apple’s fur, scratching lightly so her ears would twitch, before hearing Prince Seokmin lilt your name. When you looked to the river, you saw him grinning at you, his black hair soaking wet and pushed back from his forehead.

He raised an eyebrow. “Are you going to stand there for an eternity?”

“No,” you replied, “I was just looking after your horse.”

“Trust me, Apple gets pampered more than I do.”

Rolling your eyes, you finally grabbed the pale lilac hem of your dress, peeling the material over your head and letting it fall into a ball on the grass. In nothing but your undergarments, Seokmin gazed at you fondly, watching how you carefully waded deeper and deeper into the river until your toes could hardly scrape the smooth pebbles. Afternoon sunlight spun between the canopy of leaves overhead, which dappled the calm peaks in the water, making them sparkle. Seokmin swam closer to you. He was truly breathtaking as the rays caressed his amber skin and danced in his eyes like a honey fire.

The boy’s fingers brushed your thighs, urging you to wrap your legs around his waist and drape your arms over his wide shoulders. He held you tightly, his lips forming a lovestruck smile.

“Will your anxious mother not worry as to why her son has been out for so long?” You couldn’t help but tease him.

“I told her I would not be back for supper. At worst, she’ll send Jeonghan as my scout.”

“Do you think he could keep his mouth shut if he saw us together?”

Seokmin titled his head back with laughter, and you could see his perfect rows of teeth. “I have little certainty,” he admitted, “but Jeonghan would keep a secret if I forced him to.”

“That is reassuring to hear.” You replied with a smirk.

It was best to give the kingdom ample time to recover after the displeasing news of Seokmin’s cancelled marriage with Adelaide rapidly spread. She was supposed to be his first choice, his destiny as the King and Queen preached with every ounce of their souls. Furthermore, the royal family would definitely not be mirthful to discover that Seokmin had rejected Adelaide because his heart beat for a childhood crush from the lower village. That was unheard of, unfathomable, and rather unorthodox, which caused you and Seokmin to keep your relationship a secret.

At times there was pressure, there was great difficulty and frustration, but neither you or him could keep away from each other. You didn’t have to be married, or live in his sumptuous castle where everything was either expensive silk or encrusted with some sort of precious gem. It was quite simple: you just wanted to be with him – the environment wasn’t important. When you began seeing each other, you realized that on the summer day of your childhood where the Prince had humiliated you was a shtick orchestrated by his friends.

In actuality, Seokmin always had a crush on you, though at the time, the tender strings of his heart were easily pulled by them, and what could have been the start of a relationship ended up in years of bickering, unnecessary hatred, and repressed emotion. Cupping a hand against Seokmin’s damp cheek, you leaned in to kiss him softly. You smiled against his mouth upon feeling his hands squeeze your thighs.

“Can I give you something?” You then asked in a quiet voice.

The Prince nodded, allowing your feet to touch the pebbles again. 

“Of course, angel.” He complied.

Together, you left the river. Whilst Seokmin started petting Apple’s shimmering coat, you picked up the dress on the forest floor and reached into one of its pockets, brushing the beaded chain with your fingers. When Seokmin turned around and saw you holding a necklace, his eyes lit up in a marvelous fashion and an endearing smile beamed from one corner of his mouth to the other. It was the beech wood necklace, in which you had carved a small firefly in order to complete the pendant.

“I carved this from a piece of wood I discovered outside your castle, on the day Chan and I had to cook for the pages. At first, I had no idea what to make of it, but then I decided on a firefly.”

Seokmin admired the pendant up close. It felt wonderful to see him examining it with such an appreciative light in his gaze. The Prince connected the chain around his neck, to which the wooden oval sat between his prominent collarbone.

“I-I thought I should gift it to you. And, whenever we must be apart, you can just think of this necklace, and the comfort that comes from a firefly’s glow.”

Suddenly, the boy’s hands were atop your hips. He pulled you in close against his body, still gleaming with water droplets, and pressed a deep kiss to your lips. You could sense just how much ardour and warmth was laced into the contact, and a dense heat scattered beneath your cheeks. He tasted like the sugar powder and strawberries you ate before visiting the river.

“It’s beautiful.” Seokmin whispered.

He pecked your mouth again sweetly whilst you felt a gentle breeze blow throughout the forest, causing the tiny hairs on your damp skin to stand sharp. You cozied yourself closer into Seokmin’s chest, smiling like a foolish romantic at his words.

“Thank you, my love. I will hold onto it forever.”

✧✎ a/n: okay when i started writing this i THOUGHT it was going to be so short, like at most 4-6k, but then i was at the 6k mark, only halfway done, and i realized it was going to be another ‘wish’ situation lol. i’ve never written a royalty!au before so i felt like i was reaching into the dark a little bit jsefhwef but i hope it was still pleasant! as always i treasure all ur guys feedback so pls don’t hesitate to leave ur th0ts!! i haven’t written for seok in ages and it felt super nice to give him a lengthy fic! contrary to nobody’s belief - this was not inspired by owl city lol.

#seventeen scenarios #svt fanfic #seventeen seokmin #seokmin scenarios #lee seokmin #seokmin angst #seokmin fluff #seventeen fanfic #seventeen fluff #seventeen angst #svt x reader #enemies to lovers

[yslkook]

#all hands on deck (8)

#corporate masterlist summary: in which the tokyo team comes to seoul for a workshop. feelings are felt and dinner is had. and jungkook gets sick. word count: 8.1k warnings: cursing, a fight, discussion of mental health, some suggestive themes a/n: ENJOYYYY and thank you to @cutechim​ for your endless support <33

The new year brings the strengthening of your friendship with Jungkook. You’ve had exactly two late nights at work in preparation for the Tokyo team arriving in Seoul this time, and Jungkook had paid for dinner each time. He’d refused for you to pay despite your insistence. 

Either way, it’s on the company card, so at the end of the day it didn’t really matter. But still, it’s the thought that counts.

Late nights at work meant that eventually, you’d stop talking about work and start talking about each other, about life. After all, you could only spend so long staring at the same powerpoint slide deck.

And you’d rather stare at him. You’d rather stare at the tattoos that line his corded forearms, at the way his sweater sits deliciously on his torso and outlines his narrow waist, or the way his pants always seem to sit just right on his thighs. And his eyes, his bright, brown eyes filled with mischief and magic when he looks at you.

You sigh audibly, your hand curled under your chin. 

Jungkook immediately turns his head towards you with a quirk of an eyebrow and a lazy smirk.

“See somethin’ you like?” He drawls, not bothering to hide how he gazes at you. It reminds you of something slow, something that lights a fire in your belly.

“You know it,” You reply easily. As if your heart isn’t fluttering with the heat of his eyes.

Jungkook is silent for a moment, his lips pursed and eyes trained on you. He doesn’t hide the way he lets himself indulge in you, his gaze lingering on your lips, your eyes, your shoulder (where he knows your tattoos bloom and flourish). 

And god, he just wants you to tell him about all of your tattoos. He wants you to let him trace over the inky trails, he wants to hear if there are any stories behind them. He wants to hear any and all of your stories. Your voice is one of his favorite things.

“I see somethin’ I like,'' Jungkook murmurs. He’s looking straight at you, nothing but sincerity dripping from his eyes. It should be sinful- the smolder of his eyes, the slight upturn of his lips. Suddenly, the man before you oozes confidence but you think he’s always oozed this natural confidence. 

It makes something else flutter, too.

You’re suddenly very flustered, your cheeks blazing and you stammer and nearly trip on your feet to grab your laptop charger from your backpack. Only to fumble with your charger and drop it on the floor in a tangled mess. You bend over immediately to retrieve it, and hide your face from him for a second.

Jungkook groans internally. You’re standing in front of him, with your back to him and your ass is on display for him. Right in front of him.

“Uh,” You mutter, “S-sorry. What were we doing?”

“It’s just me,” Jungkook says softly, pushing the image of your ass to the back of his mind, “No need to be nervous around me.”

Jungkook always keeps you on your toes.

And that’s how many of your late nights at work go- even if Sana and Namjoon are present, you both find a way to quietly flirt with each other. You find a way to admire him with heart eyes. And you catch his gaze on you more than once as well.

There’s also been several times when you were both supposed to be working together on something for the submissions project, but instead ended up spending the entire afternoon together in a conference room once you finished your work. It’s so easy to talk to him, about anything and everything. You laugh loudly and unabashedly with him and you feel like no time between you both has passed at all.

It feels like you’ve known him for years. And maybe that’s the truth.

When February comes, it brings the Tokyo team to Seoul. It also brings your boss acting like an asshole and nearly throwing you and Sana under the bus at an update meeting in front of the entire Tokyo team and your team.

But Namjoon vehemently sticks up for you both, as he always does. You ignore the burn of anger and tears at the back of your eyes and tell yourself that someday, you’ll get out from under his wing.

And with February comes Mark.

Mark, who has been texting you way more than usual ever since he and the team had landed in Seoul. You make the incorrect assumption that he’s been texting Namjoon just as much as he’s been texting you. What other reason would he have to be texting you, if not for work related purposes?

And you feel obligated to respond- after all, he’s your superior.

To you, it’s small talk mostly. Nothing quite significant. But even Grandma notices your phone lighting up far more than usual at dinnertime.

“Who’s texting you? Do you have a secret lover or something?” Grandma asks, peering over her plate to look at your phone.

“Yes, I’ve been sneaking out every night after you fall asleep to meet up with them,” You roll your eyes, “It’s just this guy from work. He works in Tokyo. Remember, I told you about him? The guy who got the job I wanted a few years ago. Like, two years ago at this point?”

“Ah,” Grandma says understandingly, “If he’s in Tokyo, why is he texting you?”

“Our teams are working together on something big,” You sigh, “Mark is the team lead for Tokyo and Namjoon’s the lead for us. Their team is in Seoul this week.”

“Even Jin doesn’t text you like that,” Grandma observes, “You need more girlfriends, sweetheart. All of this testosterone can’t be good for you.”

You snort, “Trust me, Grandma. I know. Yuna and I are closer now, though. Her friends are really nice. Remember, I told you I met them at New Years?”

Grandma hums in acknowledgement. “What about that boy? Jung...Jung something?”

“What boy?” You feign aloofness, stuffing your face with rice to avoid her sly gaze.

“The one that when he texts you, you look like a lost puppy-”

“Lost puppy! I do not look like a lost puppy- I’m a big, bad wolf, if anything,” You grumble, crossing your arms, “Lost puppy… Can’t believe you.”

“Okay, big, bad wolf,” Grandma rolls her eyes, “This one makes you look like a lost puppy.”

“Jeon Jungkook,” You mumble, “His name is Jungkook.”

Grandma looks at you long and hard, dark eyes narrowed and lips pursed. You’re transparent in her gaze- you’ve never been able to hide anything from her. Not since you were a child. And this time is no different. She somehow has been your fatherly figure, your motherly figure and your grandma all at the same time. 

You don’t know how she does it. You don’t know how she did it. 

The lines around her eyes relax- the same eyes that you have. She carefully chooses her next words:

“Don’t break your own heart trying to protect it.”

When Mark asks you about dinner during the lunch break at one of your workshop days.  He sounds hopeful asking you to dinner at that one seafood restaurant that you had told him about months ago- it was so long ago that you had nearly forgotten about it. You make the mistake of assuming that this was solely a work thing.

He’d made dinner reservations for both of you when you had agreed. A formidable pit begins to form in your stomach once you had agreed to it. And you’re unable to return the dazzling smile he gives you- only managing a feeble upturn of your lips.

But he was your superior- you had to say yes, right? 

So you go to dinner with him. You meet him at the restaurant after going home and enduring a series of questions from Grandma. You tell her that what she thinks isn’t the reality- that it’s just dinner with one of your many bosses-

“Then be careful. Corporate Seoul is… intimidating.”

You wonder if you’re crossing a line that you shouldn’t cross. You wonder if Mark even understands the implications of him asking you to dinner, whether platonic or not. 

The back and forth in your mind sets you on edge. Should you cancel? You could always feign sick. But even that doesn’t sound right. Maybe you should go to dinner to see what his intentions even are. Maybe you’re just...overthinking it. As usual.

You decide to wear business casual to dinner, wanting to set unspoken boundaries with Mark. Your heart is thundering in your chest, but even these jitters are nothing compared to when you had met Yuna’s friends, had kissed Jungkook’s cheek, had asked Jungkook to have ice cream with you.

Jungkook. Butterflies flutter in your belly at the thought of him. He surprises you, or rather it surprises you how quickly and openly you had welcomed him into your life. How you trust him with your open, bleeding heart. The thought of his big, doe eyes and the wet, pink pout of his lips sends your belly into a frenzy. 

You push him to the back of your mind for now, to focus on Mark.

You meet Mark outside of the restaurant- he looks sharp as ever and he looks like he knows it. The scent of his cologne wafts into your nose- it’s not unpleasant. His hand lands on the small of your back respectfully as he asks about your day-

“You were with me for most of it, Mark,” You roll your eyes and he laughs. 

“You look nice,” Mark says, lazily turning his head to look at you.

“Thanks, you sound surprised,” You tease.

You don’t return the compliment. He does look nice and handsome tonight, wearing a dark blue sweater that fits nicely on him. 

This is not a date. You haven’t been on one of those in a long, long while. So you won’t return the compliment.

The restaurant is dimly lit for dinnertime, the lights bouncing off of Mark’s bright eyes. It’s bustling, but the noise around you isn’t overwhelming.

You don’t particularly like seafood, but you’ll do anything to keep the anxiety at bay. Including eating crab, when it’s the last thing you want to do.

“How’s your food?” You ask a little desperately, trying to break the awkward silence that you had certainly fabricated.

“Great, you wanna try? I knew you had good taste, but you just keep impressing me,” Mark says easily, his eyes washing over you.

You look beautiful in the dim light of the restaurant, the soft glow of the lamps illuminating the planes of your face. 

“Good taste?” You scoff, “And how could you possibly know that I have good taste? I mean, it’s true, don’t get me wrong. But-”

“Well,” Mark says smoothly, “You’re smart, you’re funny, you’re pretty. Obviously, you have good taste.”

“You don’t need to butter me up, Mark,” You roll your eyes but still smile at him.

“‘M not. Just being honest,” Mark shrugs and throws you a charming grin.

“Whatever you say,” You reply, taking another bite of your food. He points to the corner of your mouth and you wipe away some stray sauce.

“Not gonna return the compliment?” Mark teases lightly.

“Now why would I need to do that?” You reply, “That’s hardly appropriate, considering you’re one of my bosses now.”

“You don’t need to be so formal with me-”

“Oh? Why’s that?” You ask testily, coolly raising an eyebrow.

“We’re not at work,” Mark says, “You can be yourself around me, you know.”

“I am being myself around you,” You say pointedly, “What you see is what you get, Mark.”

Your reply confuses him. You pay it no mind. The rest of dinner goes as smoothly as that- you ask him about work, about living in Tokyo. You keep the conversation on him, hardly allowing him to ask anything about you.

Just how you had wanted it. You ask the right questions, laugh at the right times and pay just the right amount of attention to him.

Enough to fool him into thinking you were having a great time and enough for there to be no awkward lull in the conversation. Not that you were having a particularly terrible time to begin with… you just genuinely didn’t want to be here.

After all, you’d rather be at home with Grandma. Your thoughts flutter to Jin for a moment. Then Yuna. Then to Jungkook.

Mark is nice enough. He asks if you’d like to get ice cream with him after dinner. To which you say no- getting ice cream with him feels too intimate for two people who are just colleagues.

And maybe spontaneous ice cream reminds you of Jungkook. You say no to him, under the guise that you need to get home to Grandma. Which technically isn’t a lie.

Disappointment flashes across his eyes quickly but it’s gone as quick as it comes. He waits with you until your Uber to go back home arrives. You hate taking Ubers from the city back home by yourself- normally, you’d park at Seokjin’s apartment building and drive from there. But you hadn’t told Jin that you were going to dinner with Mark.

Maybe you should have.

You catch Mark glance at your lips for half a millisecond too long and take about five steps back from you. Your heart thunders in your chest again, and you feel lightheaded. 

Had you misjudged this dinner? Was this not just dinner between two colleagues? 

You swallow nervously and hug your arms around your waist. You and Mark keep up with the small talk for the most part, but you’re already spacing out.

“Hey,” Mark says softly, once the Uber arrives,  “Get home safe, alright?” 

You decide that maybe you should at least give him a hug, and even he seems surprised when you open your arms to him.

“You too, Mark,” You murmur, “Good night. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

You lay in the dark, staring at the ceiling hopelessly. Your comforter is pulled up to your chin and you want to sleep, you want the comforting lull of sleep to overtake you. But it doesn’t.

So you stare at the ceiling. You pull your phone off of the nightstand and see that you have an unread text from Seokjin:

jin: how was dinner with mark 

How did he know? You sigh, palming your forehead. Nothing ever gets by him. He always seems to know everything, even when he doesn’t.

you: fine 😐  how’d you know i went to dinner with mark... jin: not bc you told me, that’s for sure

Irritation flares up inside you. You love him, but damn he can be petty when he wants to be.

you: if you have something to say just say it lol jin: he told namjoon. namjoon told me you: oh nice, glad to know that u guys at the top like to talk about me going to dinner with my boss jin: he’s not your boss

You huff and roll over, ignoring the text. His pettiness can wait until tomorrow. 

Jin ambushes you in the parking lot. It’s earlier than your usual 7:47 arrival- you had wanted to arrive earlier so that you wouldn’t run into Jin.

But you must be predictable because Jin knows you so well- he knows that you’d try to avoid him. He meets you at your car, in the same exact spot that you always park, with two cups of coffee.

“What,” You roll your eyes, slamming the front door of your car a little too forcefully.

“Good morning to you, too,” Jin says just as snarkily, “We need to talk.”

“About what,” You snap, “Talk to me when you’re done being petty.”

“I’m being petty?” Jin asks incredulously. You narrow your eyes at him, your temper beginning to flare under your skin. You take a deep breath, forcing yourself to relax. This is your best friend. You’re in the middle of the parking lot at work. There’s no reason to snap at him.

“What is it, Jin,” You ask, “What did I do to warrant an ambush at 7:30 AM before either of us have had coffee-”

“Mark,” Jin says bluntly, “Your date with Mark.”

“My what?” You screech at him, “It wasn’t- it wasn’t a date!”

“That’s not what he thinks,” Jin says swiftly, “He thinks it was a date. He told Namjoon. Who told me-”

“You boys all gossip like we’re in fuckin’ high school,” You hiss, “It wasn’t a date. It was just dinner. He’s my boss-”

“He’s not your boss,” Jin says harshly, “Why do you keep saying that?”

“He’s higher up than me! I consider him my boss!” 

“He doesn’t see you as a subordinate! He sees you as an equal, and what the fuck- he wants to date you! How can you not tell-”

“So now it’s my fault? That I didn’t assume that an invite to dinner with my superior wasn’t a date? That I just considered it dinner? It’s my fault now?”

“He asked you to dinner at a restaurant that you had recommended to him,” Jin counters, eyes just as fiery as yours, “Seriously? That’s not a date to you? If you told me, I would’ve warned you-”

The heat in your eyes immediately melts away once realization hits you like a train. But still, you won’t let Jin have the last word-

“Since the three of you are besties now, you can tell him that I’m not fuckin’ interested,” You spit venomously at him, yank the cup of coffee from his hands and speed walk into the office building. You ignore his calls of your name in favor of feeling embarrassed heat flooding your face.

You feel like a fool. 

Your sour mood lasts the entire morning. Not even the prospect of lunch entices you. Jin pings you around 11, asking if you wanted to have lunch with him. His words from earlier this morning ring in your head on replay.

You ignore him for now. Truthfully, you don’t have much of an appetite. You stay in your area of the floor, not wanting to run into anyone or speak with anyone longer than you had to.

You’re grateful that you don’t have to participate in the workshop with the Tokyo team today- Sana and Jungkook were taking the lead on that. You’re only meeting with Lisa and Minhyuk later in the day to go over a few documents with them. You sit in your cubicle and walk around whenever you feel like it, keeping yourself busy and your mind off of Mark.

Mark, who’s currently in the conference room on the other side of the building with Jungkook.

Jungkook cannot wait for this day to be over. He’d most definitely woken up on the wrong side of the bed, irritation brewing in his belly from the minute his alarm had gone off. There was nothing in particular that had gone wrong. It’s just one of those days.

He hopes this workshop and this day goes by relatively quickly. He’s itching to go to the gym today and spend at least two hours there. He needs it. He’s felt on edge for the last few days.

Especially, since he overheard your name, Mark’s name and dinner in the same sentence.

Even thinking about it puts a sad, sour taste in his mouth. But he pushes it to the side, only allowing a brief glare in Mark’s direction. 

Not that he has any right to be irritated. Not really, anyway. You can do whatever you want. As you’ve always done.

Mark looks a little distressed and Namjoon is perfectly poised as they speak. Jungkook tunes the conversation out, and even Sana and Irene look mildly interested when your name comes out of Mark’s mouth.

Well, now he has to listen a little harder. Jungkook pretends to busy himself on his laptop, typing away to some of his work friends via chat.

“...Can’t tell if she had a good time or not. Should I text her? Go to her cubicle?” Comes Mark’s unsure voice. Normally, he’s so put together, confidence and charm oozing off of him. It’s interesting to hear him like this- insecure, because of you apparently.

Jungkook doesn’t blame you. He remembers feeling that way around you, but now that he knows you a little more… You make him feel good. You make him feel better.

Which is why his heart sinks a fraction. He doesn’t see Namjoon’s eyes glaze over to him. Namjoon sees the unbridled tension in Jungkook’s shoulders. 

“This isn’t appropriate, Mark,” Namjoon says curtly. Jungkook’s ears perk up, his heart not feeling so heavy.

Mark looks at him in resignation and Namjoon claps his shoulder without another word. And so the meeting begins, Jungkook starts taking meeting minutes with you in the back corner of his mind.

The longer he thinks about it, as the pads of his fingers clack away on his keyboard, the more irritated he becomes. So you had gone to dinner with Mark. Had he misread you?

But Jungkook thinks about how you text him ‘good morning’ and ‘good night’ sometimes. He wonders if you text Mark that, too. Do you call Mark spontaneously when you’re driving, too? Does Mark send you music recommendations? Have you shared extra treats with him, too?

Jungkook puts himself in a sour mood, casting glares over in Mark’s direction. His tongue pokes his cheek, and all he can think about is you telling him to lighten up. But even the thought of you, the thought of you and Mark...something mean curls in his belly and festers.

And as the afternoon wears on, he becomes more and more upset. If you want to date Mark, that’s none of his business. Who is he to stop you?

Mark, who looks at you as if you’re something to be won. At least, that’s what Jungkook sees in Mark’s gaze. Whatever- Mark wasn’t the one who had seen you in that green dress at the holiday party. The memory of you in that green dress is seared in his mind, and it’s a memory that Mark will never have.

But still, he can’t help but feel irrationally irritated. He likes you so much- maybe he had put you on a pedestal for a long time before he truly knew you. But if anything, getting to know you has him descending even deeper into his feelings for you. 

And you have no idea. How could you not know- can’t you tell that his hands get clammy around you, that he has difficulty maintaining meeting your eyes sometimes? That the mere sight of you, the sound of your voice is an instant serotonin boost for him?

But how would you know? He’s given no inclination of his affections for you. You don’t know that when your name lights up his phone, his heart races. You don’t know that when he gets a whiff of your musky perfume when he’s in the same room as you, he thinks he could drown in it. You don’t know that he’d take your gentle teasing with a smile, just so he could hear your voice.

Can’t you read in between the lines? 

The end of the day can’t come fast enough. Jungkook is speeding out of the conference room, away from Mark, before Namjoon even properly dismisses them. Namjoon only sighs at Jungkook’s rushed departure.

He wears his heart on his sleeve.

Over the last few months, Namjoon has come to know Jungkook as more than just his direct report. They’ve established a quick rapport beyond the confines of work- Namjoon would say that they’re friends. Good friends, even. And Jungkook would say the same. 

Which is why Namjoon can tell that Jungkook is upset, and why he’s upset. Maybe it’s crossing professional lines, but Namjoon likes to think of Jungkook as a close friend. Namjoon has had an inkling of Jungkook’s feelings since around the time of the first time the team went to Tokyo. He had mentioned it to Seokjin in passing, and Jin had done some investigating on his own.

And since Jin is your best friend, Namjoon doesn’t feel as guilty about being somewhat nosy. But really, he’s rooting for both of you. He’s just pushing you both along as best he knows how. He won’t meddle, he’ll only be in both of your corner’s until you both get your head out of your respective asses.

Even at the holiday party, Namjoon could tell. And Jin, too. Even if it was over two months ago at this point, the stolen looks and soft laughs have only increased between you and Jungkook. And Jin was no fool- he had seen you and Jungkook on New Year’s Eve. Even if you had hardly uttered more than five words to Jin about kissing Jungkook’s cheek, something he’s never seen you do with anyone publicly. He knows something is up with you.

He wonders if even you know what’s going on with you and Jungkook. Or even what you’re feeling. 

Jin has caught you peering at Jungkook dreamily more than once inside and outside of work. It’s not typical of you, to look so openly lovestruck at the object of your unassuming affections. But Jin doesn’t think you even realize your feelings. He’s seen you smiling to yourself when your phone lights up. Jin has seen Jungkook’s name pop up on your phone more and more over the last few months. 

And Jin is proud of you. He can recognize your little crush even faster than you can. He only wants to see you happy and for you to allow yourself to be happy.

You’ve come so far in such a short amount of time. He doesn’t think he’s seen you smile this much in the last five or six years. He hasn’t seen the glow that comes with happiness light up your face in so long, and it looks so good on you.

Jin only wants you to hold onto anything that makes you glow like that.

Jungkook has been in the office gym for nearly two hours and he hadn’t even realized it. Music blares in his ears through his headphones, he’s drenched and dripping in sweat and his muscles are nearly screeching with exhaustion.

But he pays it no mind. He just keeps going- anything to keep the thought of you, dolled up for Mark- on a date with Mark- holding Mark’s hand- kissing Mark, out of his mind.

It works for a moment. But then the image of you smiling at Mark with hearts in your eyes, pressing your lips to his… It’s too much for him to handle.

Maybe he was a fool to think that you might be remotely interested in him. Maybe he was a fool to think that a new year’s eve kiss on the cheek meant anything to you, or that your odd flirtations were for him only, or that the lingering gazes that you both held were special. Jungkook wishes he had taken the plunge then itself- maybe if he had been a little selfish and just kissed you and confessed to you his feelings… 

It stings. It stings more than it should. Jungkook has only just crossed into friendship with you- who was he to think that you were attracted to him? But he can’t help it. Jungkook wants you, plain and simple. He wants you so bad, he wants you to be his so bad, that it aches.

He’d treat you so well. 

Usually, a good gym session is all he needs to get rid of this type of pent up energy. But today, the image of you with Mark is seared in his mind and he can’t get rid of it despite his best efforts.

So he leaves the gym after racking up the weights and goes home, where he’s certain you’ll still remain lingering in his mind.

Seokjin has been trying to reach out to you for the last few days. His texts and phone calls to you go unanswered for the most part, but you do at least indicate that you’re alive. You tell him that you just need time.

Because really, you can’t believe that you hadn’t realized that Mark was asking you on a date. You can’t believe you didn’t recognize the signs and you can’t believe you thought it was just dinner with a colleague.

Mark and the team are still in Seoul, much to the addition of your anxiety. You keep him at arm’s length, not allowing him to take an inch from you. You limit your smiles, the eye contact… Anything that apparently could have fooled him into thinking that you were interested in him.

Your head hurts. You feel incredibly stupid. Stupid, stupid, stupid. But how could you know? It’s not like anyone routinely shows you interest in that way. Or maybe you just never realized, or thought about it. You shouldn’t blame yourself for genuinely not knowing, you know that. But you can’t help but feel guilty about potentially hurting Mark. And the people around you.

Namely, Jungkook. Jungkook who won’t look at you the way he usually does, with warmth and stars in his doe eyes. His eyes are cold when he meets your gaze and you feel like shrinking into the floor. You’re nervous to text him, feeling odd and out of place. You hate to wonder your place in someone’s life, and you hate that you’re spiraling like this. So you just don’t, because that’s your default and it hurts less.

You miss him. You find yourself remembering how his cheeks felt against your lips, how warm he felt when you had fallen asleep on him on the airplane, even when he had held onto you and pressed his forehead to yours at the bar. It feels like so long ago at this point. But you can’t recall a time you’d ever felt so intrinsically warm with someone in that way. 

It’s different with Jin- the warmth you feel around Jin is very different to how you feel around Jungkook. It confuses you.

The only thing you’re sure of is that you’re tired and you miss him. It seems like the only thing you’re good at is hurting people and pushing them away. Your confusion feels so silly. Like you’re making things complicated when they shouldn’t be.

It all feels incredibly silly to you. You scoff at yourself.

So you decide on the last day that the Tokyo team is meant to be in Seoul, that you’d be working from home. You told Namjoon that you weren’t feeling great (which is true) and had come down with a fever and chills (not true, but Namjoon doesn’t need to know that). You also let your boss know that you’d be working from home, and he sends you an email of acknowledgement. To which you roll your eyes to.

Needless to say, you’re thankful that you have an appointment with your therapist scheduled for that afternoon.

After your appointment, you’re feeling much more settled and a little better. Your head doesn’t feel like it’s garbled, and your thoughts begin to make sense. It’s what you love about Dr. Lee- she’s your compass and helps you melt things down so that they make sense to you.

You make yourself a cup of tea for you and Grandma before logging back into work. Stretching your muscles and your neck, you stand outside in your small backyard with your phone in your hands.

You let out a sigh, your thumb instantly scrolling to your text message thread with Jin:

you: hi 

And of course, he replies in seconds. Because you know he’s waiting for you to come to him.

jin: hey there  you: want to come over? For dinner? I’ll get wine for us jin: be there at 6 you: okay, see you then

And after a moment of thought-

you: 💗💗 jin: <33

Another sigh escapes your lips, and you head back inside to have your tea and finish up a few things at work.

Jin is seated at your dining table at 6:10 PM, and Grandma gets the sense that you both have things to discuss. You and Jin have dinner with her and you’re watching him quietly. You watch him fill in the gaps of conversation, the gaps that you’re feeling a little nervous to fill.

Grandma excuses herself about an hour later to watch television in her bedroom and you’re left alone with Jin.

It’s just Jin. He’s your best friend, and your nerves begin to fizzle out.

“Want to sit on the couch with me?” You ask, gesturing behind you. He nods and helps you clear the table and takes both of your glasses of wine to place on the coffee table.

You sit on the couch facing him with your legs tucked under you and he does the same. 

“I’m sorry I freaked out and yelled at you in the parking lot. And avoided you ever since,” You murmur, meeting his eyes despite the heat that floods your cheeks.

Jin sighs and takes your hand in his and squeezes. “And I’m sorry I ambushed you. And didn’t give you any context.”

“I just…” You trail off, huffing to gather your thoughts, “Hate the idea that you guys all just… knew. Because Mark said something about it. A-and I didn’t even realize his intentions, like, what does that even make me? What does that mean about me that I can’t even realize when a guy is asking me out on a date?”

This time you do avert your eyes, embarrassment rushing through you.

“It’s not your fault,” Jin sighs again, “You don’t know what you don’t know. He should’ve been clear with his intentions from the beginning. He should know better than to ask you out at work, of all places.”

“He texts me sometimes, but I never thought anything of it. I mean, even when we were in Tokyo! Looking back, I guess… Maybe the signs were there. But I didn’t…”

“I know,” Jin says, “It’s okay.”

“Maybe I’ve been out of the dating pool too long,” You joke, trying to lighten the mood, “Got dusty cobwebs and all that, I’m basically undateable at this point-”

“That’s not true at all,” Jin says seriously, thoughts flitting to Jungkook for a minute, “I think you just...need someone a little more straightforward. Are you into Mark?”

“I told you I wasn’t. I mean sure, he’s cute, I guess. But no, I don’t really want to get to know him like that.”

“Then that’s the end of it,” Jin shrugs, “It’s literally that simple. Don’t overthink it.”

“Okay.”

Another beat of silence. You wring your hands together in your lap, biting your lip. Jin waits for you to speak. He’s very accustomed to your habits when you’re gathering your thoughts.

“Is it bad? That I don’t want to know him like that?” You ask unsurely, “I mean, I know it’s not bad- but, like, what if-”

“If you’re not feeling it, you’re not feeling it,” Jin says simply, “Like I said, don’t overthink it.”

“How did you know you were feeling it? With Yuna?” You ask curiously, “Like, I mean, what if I’m just being stubborn for the sake of being stubborn?”

Jin says your name softly. “Everyone’s different. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen you interested in anyone… But with Yuna, it didn’t take that long. I was thinking about her at the randomest times.

“Like… what’s her coffee order? What’s she eating for lunch? Would she like what I’m having for lunch? Is she okay? Is she happy? And then the more I got to know her… It was like, someday she’s gonna be the woman I’m gonna go to bed with and wake up with. I just know it.”

“Oh, Jinnie,” You sniff, and pull him towards you for a hug, “I’m happy. I’m so happy that you’re happy.”

Jin holds you for a few moments, rubbing your back and waiting for your breaths to even out.

“I’m gonna ask you something, and you might not like it,” Jin says bluntly, but softly.

“Whenever you say things like that, it makes my stomach ache.”

“Jungkook. You like him?”

“Like as a person? Of course I do. He’s nice, he’s sweet, smart, funny, sensitive… We’re friends, did you know that?” You nudge his shoulder with your elbow playfully, “He’s pretty great. You know, I was really mean to him in the beginning when he first joined. And for what? He’s so...he’s so wonderfully him and it’s genuinely nice to be around him. I feel good, I feel great when I’m with him. Like… I want to be better when- what? Why are you looking at me like that?”

Jin’s eyes are warm, his lips pulled into a knowing smile. You raise a confused eyebrow at him.

“I knew it,” Jin says, “I fuckin’ knew it. I see the way you look at him, and the way he looks at you. You both think you’re so slick-”

“Wait. Knew… what?” You ask, trailing off. Because the pieces are suddenly coming together as if they had always been there. They just needed a little push in the right direction. All of a sudden, your heart feels like it’s about to slam straight out of your chest. It hits you like a freight train with a bolt of lightning surging down your spine. You gasp, your lips parted and stare at Seokjin for a long few seconds. Jin sees an epiphany bloom in your eyes, and he already knows what it is.

You like Jungkook.

“Say it,” Jin says in a hushed whisper, “Say it, I know you want to.”

“Oh my god, you’re so dramatic. Edward Cullen wannabe,” You mutter, but your face is heated. “Don’t make me say it,” You whine.

He only looks at you with a smug grin on his stupid face. Because you have a giant crush on Jeon Jungkook, and the realization hits you faster and harder than possibly anything else in your near 30 years of life has ever hit you before.

“Jin, what the hell,” You complain but you’re smiling,  “I like him. I think I really like him.”

“Finally,” Jin exhales, “You’ve been so happy since you’ve gotten closer to him. I’m happy that you’re happy. And that he makes you happy. Might have to rough him up a little bit if he didn’t.”

You snort, roll your eyes, and mumble for him to shut up.

“I can’t remember the last time… I ever liked someone,” You say in a hushed voice.

“Do you like like him,” Jin teases and you swat his shoulder.

“I’m serious, Jin,” You say, “I think I’ve liked him for a while. And it took… till now to understand it. Isn’t that something?”

“It is something,” Jin nods, “You think he’s hot? He’s sexy? You must be so wound up- working so closely with him but not-”

You throw a pillow at him and laugh loudly. “Oh my god, shut up. He’s so fuckin’ hot, sometimes I don’t know what to do with myself.”

Jin only smiles at you, teasing you some more. You feel light once the realization and confession is out in the open, as if you’re floating on air. 

It feels good.

Jungkook isn’t in the office today, and he wasn’t in the office the day before either. He has an out of office automated message set up, and he’s been offline for forty-two hours.

Weird. The last time he was out of the office, he had let you know beforehand. Maybe he’s sick?

But your text to him had gone unanswered. His read receipts are typically on, but your text to him just says ‘delivered’. You give him a few hours, pushing him out of your mind for a few hours to finish up some work.

You could ask Namjoon. Or even Jin. But you want to reach out to Jungkook on your own. Once you get into your car after work, your thumb hovers over his contact name. With a rush of tender courage, you call him.

Your stomach flips. The line rings and rings… until you hear a groggy voice on the other end.

“Hello?” Jungkook says hoarsely. He sounds tired and stuffy, like his face is pressed into a pillow. His eyes are barely open, barely registering that it’s you calling him. 

It’s only when you softly call his voice that things become a little clearer to him. He slowly sits up in bed, wincing at the movement. He’s a sweaty, sticky mess but it looks like his fever has passed as he slept.

And now he’s hungry.

“Hey, Jungkook,” You murmur, scratching your chin a little nervously, “You’ve been gone so I was just… making sure you were okay.”

You were making sure he was okay? Is he hearing that correctly? His heart lurches and sings. He can barely catch a breath.

“Just sick,” Jungkook groans raspily, pushing his sweaty hair out of his eyes, “Been miserable the last few days.”

“Yeah, I can tell,” You say, pulling a soft laugh from him, “Glad you’re okay for the most part, JK. Feel better soon.”

“You miss me or somethin’,” Jungkook says without thinking twice. His voice is congested but even you can hear the sweet note of his flirting in its undercurrent.

“‘Course I do. This place isn’t the same without my Bambi,” You say easily. Jungkook hears the smile in your voice.

That’s new. Your Bambi. Jungkook won’t deny that in his post-fever addled brain, it’s the sweetest thing he’s heard. Even if he almost always playfully chastises you for calling him Bambi, he won’t this time.

Before you can abandon your courage, you force yourself to ask- “Since you’re sick… Grandma makes a great galbitang and I can make you some baesuk. I mean- if- I don’t want to- God, I don’t want to overstep. I just thought-”

“Hey,” Jungkook cuts across you, his voice calm and steady as ever despite the phlegm in his chest, “It’s just me. Take your time.”

You squeeze your eyes shut and force yourself to take a breath, despite the hammering in your chest. “I want to bring galbitang and make baesuk for you because you’re sick and I miss you. Is that okay or is that too much?”

Straightforward. You like straightforward. You’ve never been to his apartment building (though he’s told you where he lives) and you feel like you’ve jumped about five steps. But it feels right. It’s him, so it feels right.

“You don’t have to go out of your way for me,” Jungkook protests weakly before coughing for about fifteen seconds.

“Kook, you sound like shit. I want to,” You murmur, “And seeing you is an extra bonus.”

“You’re obsessed with me.”

It appears that Jungkook is brave when he’s sick.

“No, I just like you,” You shrug. He can do what he wants with that information. You miss the sharp exhale of his breath. “I can come over… around six-thirty or seven?” Is that okay?”

“Yeah,” Jungkook mumbles, “Drive safe. See you soon, sweetheart.”

The pet name slips out without him even realizing it and sends your heart into an immediate frenzy. “Uh, b-bye, Jungkook. See you soon.” You stammer and hang up, unable to stop yourself from screeching alone in your car.

You immediately call Jin to shout and screech (maybe cry a little, because you’re overwhelmed) to him about this recent development.

Jungkook can barely believe that you are in his apartment, much less, pouring soup into a bowl for him. He feels almost meek- do you like his living space? He can’t bring himself to expend energy on wondering what your thoughts are.

But he hopes you like where he lives. And he hopes this isn’t the only time you’re here.

“I’ll give you some baesuk after you eat,” You murmur, sitting next to him. Your thighs touch his, and he wants to tell you to sit away from him so that you don’t get sick. But he won’t deny himself of the soft heat of your legs next to his.

“Thank you,” Jungkook rasps, “You really didn’t have to…”

“I know. I wanted to,” You murmur with a shrug and a small smile. You both sit in silence, the noise from his television in the center of his living room blending in as background noise. You finally take a look around, looking at the pictures on the wall and the accents in the living room that are so very Jungkook. You don’t know Taehyung very well, but you see accents of him, too- in the small pieces of art placed tastefully in specific areas of what you can see in the apartment.

“I like your place. It’s very you,” You say off-handedly, meeting his eyes. His cheeks are filled with soup and he’s mid chew, dark eyes wide.

“Oh. Thanks,” Jungkook says after chewing fully. 

He tries to tell you about where both him and Taehyung got inspiration for the different things that they decided to put in their apartment, but he’s overcome by a bout of coughing. He coughs into his elbow (something you immediately notice) and you don’t hesitate to move closer to him and rub his back soothingly. 

Even if he’s wearing a thick, grey hoodie, he can feel the heat of your touch through the layers. You don’t move your hand once his coughing subsides, and for that he’s grateful.

“Take it easy, Jungkook,” You murmur. Part of you, a very small but loud part of you, wants to wrap yourself around him and press your body heat into his. He shivers a little, and that’s all the persuasion you need to wrap your arm around his and press yourself into his side. Jungkook lets out another shaky exhale before relaxing with your touch, all while you rub his upper arm.

“You’re freezing,” You say softly, “Are you feeling better?”

“‘M feeling better with you, sweetheart,” Jungkook murmurs, casting his eyes to yours. His browns are tired, fatigue swirling in them. But still, he looks at you in wonder. As he always does.

Your face feels warm, but still you leave your arm looped with his. 

“You’re gonna get sick,” Jungkook groans, leaning back with his eyes closed.

“‘M not,” You shrug, “Besides, I have Grandma’s secret galbitang even if I do.”

Jungkook only hums, unable to manage anything more than that. 

“Did you eat today?” 

Jungkook gives you a noncommittal grunt and you shake your head at him. “Wanted to sleep. Fever broke when you called me.”

And if an image of Jungkook’s sweaty torso flashes in your head, then that’s nobody’s business but your own. You nudge his shoulder with your hand, whispering for him to drink the baesuk you made for him.

“That’s good,” You say absently.

“Tell me about your day,” Jungkook says, a soft demand. He presses his lips to the glass of baesuk and drinks generously.

You rattle off the events of the day- it was rather uneventful for the most part. Just meetings, and doing some work in between. You tell him you missed him at lunch with Namjoon, Sana and Jin. And how the gym felt empty without him.

Once Jungkook finishes the drink, he promptly drops his head in your lap. A gasp of surprise escapes your lips, but you can’t help the smile of fondness from spreading. His hair looks so fluffy, a little messy… Part of you wants to rub his scalp for him and soothe him. Would he like it? People like that right? You always like when Grandma did that for you.

So you listen to that part of you and tentatively press your fingertips into his hair, combing his hair lightly with your fingers. And then rubbing his scalp gently. He groans into your thigh in contentment, nearly purring.

Your heart is thundering away in your chest at the new feeling of his head in your lap- the intimacy of such an action sets you on edge. But you embrace it. You can’t think of another time when someone has trusted you so implicitly like this. 

You like him like this. You like him like anything.

tags: @koo-zy​

#jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x reader #jungkook #jungkook fluff #bts x reader

[mygalfriday]

and the road not taken looks real good now (12/river)

It would be a lie to say he hadn’t hoped to see her. Hell, he comes back to Leadworth every single Christmas waiting for the year she’ll finally visit. The Ponds always invite her to their annual Christmas party but most of the time she doesn’t show, citing excuse after excuse about being unable to get away from her job in London. He always listens in when she phones to apologize, knowing the look of disappointment on Amy’s face must mirror his own and unable to bear the guilt. It’s his fault she never comes, after all.

This Christmas, it’ll be five years since she last turned up. He keeps hoping anyway.

Difficult not to feel a bit pathetic about the whole thing, especially when he’s standing outside on the porch freezing his arse off. Everyone else is inside the Ponds’ cozy little house, drinking spiked cocoa and laughing at Amy’s pitiful attempts at Santa Baby but not John, no. He sits perched on the porch railing, cigarette burning between his fingers as he stares out at the snow-covered lane and waits for the sight of uncontainable curls bursting out from beneath a fuzzy beanie.

Of course, River doesn’t ever do the expected thing – not even arriving where he can see her and prepare his battered heart. He hears the creak of the porch steps behind him and turns, nearly choking on an inhale at the sight of her frozen in place and staring at him. He’d been right about the hat – it doesn’t come close to covering her hair. Bundled in a cherry red coat stark as blood against the snow and clutching a paper sack filled with wine bottles, she looks startled to see him. If he weren’t so busy drinking in the sight of her, that might have hurt. It shouldn’t. She’d left – of course she isn’t looking over her shoulder every day like he is, waiting for the universe to bring them together again.

“John,” she finally says, licking her lips. For a moment, he can’t stop staring at her mouth, those lips stained like berries. He wonders if she’d taste of them too. “I didn’t realize you’d be here.”

She says it like an apology and he scowls, glancing away. Bringing the cigarette back to his lips, he asks, “What, would you have skipped out again if you had?”

River shifts the bag in her hands, looking for all the world like she’d very much like to turn and run away. “Well, it certainly would have been easier.”

He huffs out a quiet, bitter laugh and breathes out smoke with it. It curls into the air, mixing with the lightly falling snow before disappearing altogether. “And you’re very good at doing the easy thing, aren’t you, River?”

She sighs wearily. “Let’s not do this,” she says, and he hates how composed she is. How utterly removed from the situation she must be, to be able to distance herself from the pain and behave like a rational adult. “It’s one night. Surely we can behave ourselves for that long.”

With a terse nod, John flicks the ash from his cigarette and listens to the rousing and somewhat drunken rendition of Baby, It’s Cold Outside drifting out from inside the house. “How’s Ramone?”

He doesn’t turn to look at her but he can sense River’s disappointed stare burning like fire against the side of his face. She doesn’t bother with a reply.

He sighs. “Fine, how’s London?”

“Good. It’s... good..” She wraps an arm around her middle and he remembers it so vividly, the way she’d hug herself like she’d gotten so used to no one else ever doing it. She’d stopped after they were together for a while, reaching for him instead. It aches in his chest to see her doing it again now. “I heard you’re in Glasgow these days.”

Forcing a smirk, he asks, “Keeping tabs on me?”

River finally inches off the top step, her boots making soft taps against the porch as she inches cautiously closer. “Someone should.”

“Maybe,” he agrees, wedging the cigarette between his lips. “But it’s not really your job anymore.”

She doesn’t reply right away, leaning against the railing beside him. There’s still a space between them but she’s close enough now that he can smell her perfume and that fancy shit she always put in her hair that made it smell like orange peels. It took him years to stop smelling it everywhere he went. He tries desperately to turn his head away and breathe in the smoke instead. “Do you ever get tired of playing the victim?”

John snorts softly. “Funny, I was just about to ask you that.”

Watching him with a frown, River points out, “It was just as much your choice as it was mine-”

“Don’t you dare,” he snarls, angry enough to drop the bitter aloofness he’d been trying so hard to keep around his shoulders like a protective shroud. River falls silent, unmoving beside him. “I didn’t choose this. I never would. You wanted to leave and I let you because that’s what love sodding well is – making them happy even if you’re miserable.”

The sharp inhale from beside him is just shocked enough to catch his attention and he turns with a scowl that slips the moment he catches sight of her face. There are tears in her eyes and her lips are parted on a gasp. She stares at him in stunned silence. Snowflakes have caught in her curls and her nose is red from the cold but he doesn’t get time to admire the picture she makes before the bag of wine slips from her numb fingers and hits the porch with an alarming thunk.

He frowns, eyeing her cautiously. “What?”

River blinks, her eyes still glistening as she glances away. Her jaw clenches and she stares out at the empty, snow-covered street in silence for a long moment. “All those years.” She swallows and he hears it even over the bad caroling going on indoors. “You never said it. Not once.”

It takes him a beat longer than it should to fathom what on earth she’s talking of but the moment he goes back over what he said and puts the pieces together, he can only gape at her incredulously. His throat feels too dry to form a single syllable but this feels too significant to let slip away. After a few tries, he manages hoarsely, “Didn’t know it was so important to you.”

She shrugs like it doesn’t matter. He knows by now it always does. “Every girl likes to hear it now and then.”

His throat tightens. “All you had to do was ask.”

“It’s not an item on a grocery list,” she says, bristling. “I only wanted it if you wanted to give it-”

“Of course I wanted to-” He growls under his breath, the cigarette pinched so tight between his fingers he thinks it might snap in half. “I gave it. Every day. Just because I didn’t shout it from the rooftops or write you sonnets like Ramone-”

“Oh would you shut up about Ramone, you idiot.” River glowers at him, cheeks flushed pink and curls bouncing around her face as she nearly vibrates with fury. Any other time, he’d have enjoyed the sight immensely. “Don’t you think if I wanted him, he’d be here?”

John frowns. “Where is he, anyway? At home grooming his beard?”

“I don’t know.” She slides her gaze pointedly away from him, arms crossed over her chest. “I haven’t seen him since we broke up.”

John goes still. He stares at her, feeling the dying hope in the pit of his stomach burst back to life like bloody damned Lazurus. He struggles to seem somewhat sympathetic but by the look on River’s face, he fails spectacularly. He tries anyway. “Sorry.”

“No you’re not.”

He allows the grin to curl his mouth. “No I’m not.”

She rolls her eyes.

His smile doesn’t waver, even as he lifts his mangled cigarette back to his lips and takes a quick drag. “How long are you in town for?”

River shrugs. “Depends.”

“On?”

Her eyes gleam. “Whether you’re ever going to put out that fag and kiss me.”

The cigarette lands in the bushes. He hopes the snow will be enough to keep it from becoming a fire hazard because he doesn’t spare it another thought as he surges forward. His hands curl around her hips and he tugs her close, swallowing River’s quiet laughter when he dips his head and kisses her. He knows he must taste like nicotine and smell like smoke but River’s arms drop from their protective clutch around her middle and wrap around his neck instead. She fits against him just like she always has. She clings to him like he’s the only warm thing left in this cold world, her chilly nose bumping his and her trembling fingers curled inside the collar of his hoodie.

They part wearing tentative smiles, bright points in the darkness.

John brings a hand to her face, tucking a curl behind her ear as she shivers in his arms. “You should go in and warm up,” he whispers. “Amy’ll want to see you.”

“Of course.” She pauses, hesitantly turning her face into his palm and pressing a kiss there. He stares at her, his heart light and his knees quaking. “Don’t stay out here too long, all right? You’ll freeze, darling.”

Darling. It’s been five years but he’s still darling. He nods, dazed. “Feeling warmer already.”

With one last lingering glance, River retrieves her bag from the floor and steps into the house. He hears a belting chorus of Hark! The Herald Angels Sing just before she shuts the door behind her. God and sinners reconciled! John stands on the porch shuddering with the cold and wearing a stupid grin, his lips still tingling and the scent of orange peels in the air around him. He contemplates another cigarette for all of five seconds before he turns on his heel and hurries inside.

There’s nothing else to wait for out here anyway.

#drfic #river song #twelfth doctor #river x twelve #twelve x river #my fic

[pines-troz]

Animaniacs/PATB/Wakko’s Wish Fanfic - Pinky Promise

Summary: When Pinky sees the Warner siblings trying to stay warm in the frigid cold, his heart is overwhelmed with compassion. He suggests to Brain that they should help the poor orphans, to which the smaller mouse reluctantly agrees. But when the mice receive a stroke of bad luck, their friendship is put to the test. 

Word Count: 7,396

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28299807

Based on @themurphyzone‘s lovely post about Wakko’s Wish 

The winter snow blanketed the buildings and streets of Acme Falls. The citizens of the village trudged miserably as they went about their daily lives trying to get by in a country that grossly overtaxed its people for the financial satisfaction of its corrupt and cold-heart ruler, King Salazar the Pushy.

Pinky and The Brain emerged from their home and strolled through the village square. To protect themselves from the biting cold winds, Brain sported his purple scarf and brown fingerless gloves, while Pinky wore his red scarf. It wasn’t much, but when there was little to go around they learned to appreciate what they had. 

A particularly harsh gust of wind blew past the mice. Brain chattered his teeth as he instinctively rubbed his forearms for extra warmth. Pinky saw how frigid the smaller mouse was and immediately pulled him into a side hug for extra warmth. Brain sneered at his lanky companion and shoved him away, rejecting the affectionate gesture. 

“So where are we going again, Brain?” Pinky asked. 

“I just told you, Pinky! We’re heading over to the village dump to scavenge any materials that would aid my latest invention.” Brain answered with an annoyed frown. 

The pudgy mouse pulled out a rolled-up piece of paper from his pocket and unfurled the sketches for his device. “A giant vacuum cleaner!” He declared with an eager grin. “With this machine, we’ll be able to suck up that wretched king and his allies, trapping them in a lint-filled prison. Then, while the throne awaits for a new monarch, we will seize power over the kingdom and restore Warnerstock to its former glory!”

“Naaarf!” Pinky awed. 

“So that’s why we’re going dumpster diving today, Pinky.” Brain concluded as he stashed his sketch back into his pocket. 

“Egad Brain, brilliant!” Pinky joyfully cried out. But then his smile faltered. “But no, no”

“What?” Brain asked exasperatedly. 

“Don’t we need proper swimming equipment when we go dumpster diving? Like goggles and flippy fins?” Pinky asked, waving his arms around to emphasize his point. “We can’t waste any time, Pinky!” Brain said curtly. “The daylight hours are considerably shorter this time of year, and we need to make the most of our trip to the dump!” 

“Yay!!!” Pinky cheered as he followed his roommate. 

As the mice walked past the village square, they looked over at the abandoned orphanage to see three shabbily dressed children huddling around a makeshift fire.

The rodents recognized the Warner children; Yakko, Wakko, and Dot. The kids usually had a penchant for causing chaos around the village. But seeing the normally playful Warners in a state of misery and shivering in front of a weak fire pit was particularly heartbreaking. An awful reminder of the adverse impact of Salazar’s over taxation on the populace. 

Poor Pinky was on the verge of tears at the sight of the distraught siblings. Kids were supposed to be happy, bouncing around without a care in the world and having a fun-fun silly-willy time! But to see three poor and defenseless children broke the tall mouse’s heart.  “Poit! Oh, the poor dears...” He warbled, placing a hand on his cheek. 

“Yes, poverty is a merciless mistress.” Brain agreed in a melancholic tone whilst gently patting his taller friend’s back. “But now is not the time to dwell on the depressing sight of three poor waifs having to fend for themselves in a cold and unforgiving world.” 

As Pinky watched his smaller companion lead the way, he thought of a wonderful idea that made him feel all warm and fuzzy. Maybe he could do something to make the kiddies smile! 

With his heart filled with renewed hope, the taller mouse skipped along gaily, catching up with his companion. “Say Brain, if we come across anything that’s nice or shiny during our trip to the dump, can we give some to the little kiddies?” Pinky suggested cheerfully. 

Brain stopped in his tracks, turning his chubby head towards his lanky roommate. He stared at Pinky with an incredulous look. The odds of finding something of value were slim (not that it deterred the determined mouse from trying anyway). But it didn’t take long for Brain to be captivated by the warmth and compassion that pooled in Pinky’s beautiful blue eyes. How could he ever say no to a gaze like that?

“Should we come across something of value, we could, perhaps, share our wealth with the orphans.” Brain reluctantly spoke. 

“Is that a Pinky Promise?” Pinky asked excitedly. The mouse curled three of his fingers with only his pinky pointed out, and eagerly wiggled it in front of his friend.

Brain looked at Pinky’s pinky. The thought of making a Pinky Promise was juvenile and saccharine from Brain’s perspective. But despite his cold exterior and cynical outlook on the world, he could never bring himself to crumble Pinky’s childlike sense of wonder. The eloquent mouse let out an exhausted sigh, surrendering to his roommate’s request. 

“Fine, it’s a Pinky promise.” He confirmed, giving in to his best friend’s plea. He showcased the pinky finger on his right hand. Brain carefully wrapped his pinky around Pinky’s, giving it a firm shake. 

Once they untangled their pinkies, Pinky scooped Brain into a tight hug, to which Brain recoiled as he kicked his feet in the air. Pinky was unaware of Brain’s resistance as he twirled around. “Oh Brain, we are such kind and good and thoughtful mice! Zort!” 

“That’s all well and good my personal-space-invading friend, but we first need to search the dump and obtain anything of monetary worth before we could perform our noble deed.” Brain recalled as he struggled to liberate himself from Pinky’s affectionate embrace. “Now would you be so kind as to put me down before we further indulge in any more mawkish sentiment?”

“Of course, Brain!” Pinky apologized as he gently lowered Brain on the ground. The pudgy mouse gave a curt nod to his companion before resuming their journey. The lanky mouse did his best to keep up with his roommate’s quick pace. 

With their pact sealed, the mice ventured forth to the village dump in their desperate search for usable materials and anything of monetary worth. 

By the time sunset rolled in, the mice were unable to find the materials for Brain’s invention. But they did come across an even better find. Brain searched through a rusty tin can only to discover three gold coins. After retrieving the coins, Pinky immediately grabbed one. With the assumption that he held a chocolate coin wrapped with gold tinfoil, the mouse scratched at the sides in the hopes that he could remove the wrapping. Brain rolled his eyes and inspected the other two coins, observing them in great detail to check if they were real or counterfeit. After minutes of inspecting the symbols and inscriptions as well as testing their physicality, Brain confirmed that the gold coins were authentic. The mice then fled the town dump, absconding the valuable currency in their paws.

Brain held two of the coins over his head and Pinky held the third coin in his arms. The chubby mouse already planned out the different ways to spend their newly acquired wealth. The first coin would be given to the Warners (in keeping with his Pinky Promise to Pinky), the second coin would be used to purchase food from the grocers, and the third coin would be used to fund Brain’s latest plan for world domination. 

In the words of the classic show tune, they’re in the money!

The two companions sprinted down the street as fast as their little feet allowed. They needed to avoid drawing attention from the greedy local tax collector, Baron von Plotz, and his bumbling lackey, Ralph the Constable, as well any person willing to get their hands on the money.

Brain was a few paces ahead, desperate to return to their home with the coins. Pinky, despite his physical agility, was distracted when a somber sight caught his eyes. 

Pinky noticed the Warners forlornly trudging inside their ramshackle home in the abandoned water tower. Oh, how his heart ached at the sight of the downtrodden children. But as he gripped the coin in his hold, he remembered what he needed to do to cheer them up!

Unfortunately Pinky failed to see where he was going and tripped over the cobblestone street, landing with a thud. As he fell, he accidentally let go of his coin, which went rolling down the street.

“Oh no!” Pinky gasped, alerting Brain. The pudgy mouse whipped his head around to see the fleeing coin. He was about to intervene when the coin made a right turn and went straight into the sewer grate.

They stared in shock as they watched the coin disappear before their very eyes. 

Brain felt his anger rising like a kettle filled with boiling hot water. He snorted and gritted his teeth as he confronted the bumbling mouse.  

“Pinky, you clumsy nincompoop!” Brain snapped, clenching his fists with rage. The mouse furiously stomped over towards his roommate. 

Pinky closed his eyes and lowered his head, expecting a particularly hard bop on the head. This was all his fault. If only he had paid attention! 

As Pinky waited to receive his blows, he heard the sounds of two coins clinking together followed by two small paws hitting a particularly hard object and the aggravated grunts of his roommate. 

Pinky opened his eyes and turned around to see Brain taking out his aggression on the dilapidated picket fence. After a few additional jabs, the smaller mouse looked at the fence, his breathing slowing to calmer breaths.

After releasing his anger, Brain picked up the two coins and resumed the trek back home. “Come along Pinky,” He called out while keeping his eyes on the trail ahead. “let’s return to our home and prepare for tomorrow night.” 

“But Brain, what about the poor kiddies?” Pinky asked concernedly. 

“What about them?” Brain spat without stopping. 

“But we have to give one of our coins to the children!” Pinky reminded his roommate. He could feel his eyes starting to water. 

Brain groaned and turned to face the taller mouse. “We need the money, Pinky! One coin to put bread on the table, and the other to pay for our latest plan to take over the world!” 

“But you Pinky promised, Brain!” Pinky cried out as tears streamed down his cheeks. “And a Pinky promise is the most important promise of all!” 

The lanky mouse fell onto his knees, ignoring the frigid dampness of the snow beneath him.  Putting his head in his hands, Pinky sobbed uncontrollably, curling himself into a pitiful ball in the snow.  

Brain stared at his distraught friend and was immediately overcome with guilt. He hated seeing Pinky cry. Even more so, he hated the fact that he made Pinky cry. Brain winced at his inconsolable companion and looked to his gloved hands instead. There were two sides of him battling among themselves as he pondered. His ambitious side told him that world domination was more important and that he could make reparations after he ascended to power. But his heart told him that he needed to place the well-being of others before himself, no matter how much it wounded his pride. With a forlorn sigh, Brain concluded that he didn’t want to sour his relationship with Pinky by backing out on his promise. He needed to do the right thing and fulfill his promise. 

Brain courageously shifted his gaze back at Pinky, who was still crying his eyes out with ragged breaths as a disgusting amount of snot oozed from his nostrils. The pudgy mouse knew that he needed to cheer up his soft-hearted companion. 

“I did, didn’t I?” Brain softly replied, his voice laced with remorse. Pinky’s ears perked and immediately stared at his friend. The lanky mouse wordlessly nodded as he took his red scarf and blew out the snot from his bulbous red nose. 

With a deep sigh, Brain walked over to Pinky and shoved one of the coins into his chest. The lanky mouse instinctively held the coin tight, knowing now that he needed to be extra careful not to lose the money. Pinky looked over to see Brain making his way over to the worn-down water tower. 

“Come along Pinky, I believe we need to pay the orphans a surprise visit.” Brain quietly ordered. 

Pinky’s glistened as an optimistic smile broke out. Brain had kept his Pinky Promise after all! The lanky mouse eagerly sprinted to join his shorter friend by his side. 

“Oh thank you, Brain!” Pinky exclaimed joyfully. “I can’t wait to make the little kiddies smile!” 

Brain looked at Pinky, whose cheerful attitude was now restored, and gave a small smile in return. 

The mice cautiously entered the ramshackle home through the open door, which was susceptible to the cold gusts of wind that blew through Acme Falls. They quietly walked through the broken down home and scanned their surroundings. The water tower was laid bare with the exception of a few worn-out pieces of furniture. Blue tattered curtains that divided the living space, a wooden bureau that held a burning candle, and a makeshift bed which was currently occupied by Yakko and Dot. 

The eldest Warner brother and the Warner sister were tucked underneath the quilt blanket. Pinky and Brain remained in the shadows as they heard Yakko enchanting Dot with a bedtime story. 

“Once upon a time, a brave knight married a beautiful princess and they had two sons.” Yakko recited with a gentle smile. 

“But they wanted a daughter too!” Dot said eagerly. 

“Right, so they planted a garden all over the kingdom,” Yakko explained as he draped his arm around his little sister. “and on the first day of spring every flower in that garden bloomed. And out of the prettiest flower came...”

“Me!” Dot chirped, pointing towards herself. 

“Yup!” Yakko affirmed, causing Dot to snuggle up to her brother. 

The mice also noticed Wakko appearing from behind the tattered blue curtains. The middle child played around with the fabric as he listened to the tale. 

“And so the knight and his bride, Mom and Dad, took you home. And every night at bedtime they’d come in and say, ‘who’s the girl?’” Yakko asked as he affectionately nuzzled his nose into Dot’s. “And you’d say,” 

“I am!” She confidently declared, gesturing to herself once again. 

“And they’d ask ‘how’d you ever get so cute!” Yakko asked, nuzzling her nose once again. “And you’d say,”

“I was born that way.” She boasted as she crossed her arms. 

“And they’d say ‘tell us your name young lady’” Yakko requested as he gently booped his sister’s nose with his index finger. “And you’d say,”

“Princess Angelina Contessa Louisa Francesca Banana Fana Bo Besca the Third!” The Warner sister stated as she clasped her hands together. “But you can call me Dot!” 

Yakko smiled at his younger sister. “And they’d say ‘can we call you Dottie?’ and you’d say,”

“No, just Dot.” Dot commanded with a serious look on her face. “Call me Dottie and you die!” She warned. 

“And Mom and Dad would laugh and laugh and laugh, and tickle ya!” He said whilst tickling his sister, causing her to giggle. “And you’d laugh too! And you’d fall asleep with a great big smile in your heart!” 

Hidden within the shadows, the mice had listened in on the endearing bedtime story. Brain felt something stir within him as he heard the story of their parents. Was it pity? Sympathy, perhaps? He couldn’t tell. Brain awkwardly focused on the coin he held, feeling like he was intruding on an intimate family moment. Something told him that he should just flee the scene, but his feet remained planted on the floor. 

Meanwhile Pinky sniffled as he was moved to tears by the lovely tale. The mouse thought about what the children’s lives might have been when they lived with their parents. What kinds of activities did they like to do? Did they like gardening or were they more into arts and crafts? Did their Dad like to ride them around on his back like a horsie? Did their Mom bake some nice chocolate chip cookies for the kiddies? Did they all like to sit by the fireplace on a snowy evening all wrapped up in blankets and snuggle on the sofa together? And to think that the poor kiddies were robbed of more bonding time with their parents and now had to live in a worn-down water tower. Pinky felt the tears fall down his face as he gazed at the Warners making the most out of what little they had. 

“I like that story!” Dot proclaimed. 

“I like that story too. Narf!” Pinky agreed in a wavering voice. 

The strange response alerted the three children. Yakko and Dot instinctively hugged each other while Wakko sprinted from behind the curtain and leaped onto the bed to join his siblings. The kids were frightened that a mysterious person entered their home. 

Yakko kept his younger siblings in a protective hug as he scanned the room. “W-who said that?” He loudly inquired, trying his hardest to hide his fearfulness with a hardened look on his face. 

“My associate did.” Brian addressed in a monotone voice, tugging Pinky’s hand as they stepped into the light. Brain wore a tired frown as he stared at the Warners, while Pinky used his scarf to dab the tears from his eyes. The smaller mouse noted the fearful looks on the children’s faces and tried his best to soothe their worries. “Pinky and I have no intentions of bringing about any harm, so there’s no need to be frightened.” 

The Warners released a collective sigh of relief at the tiny strangers. 

“Are you leprechauns?” Wakko asked curiously with a pointed finger. 

“Actually we are a pair of genetically altered lab mice trying very hard to get by during these trying times and plotting to take over the world.” Brain explained in earnest. “But my friend Pinky here has something he wants to give to you.” 

The smaller mouse ushered his taller friend to approach the children. “Oh, right-o!” The lanky mouse remembered. 

With a joyful smile, Pinky sprinted towards the mattress, carrying the coin in his hands. Brain stood by the edge of the shadows, clutching their last coin to his chest as he watched his Good Samaritan of a roommate perform his good deed. Once Pinky made it over to the bed, he lifted the coin, offering it to the Warners. “Here you go!” He chirped. 

The siblings looked at each other in disbelief. 

“Well go on, it’s yours! Zort!” Pinky cheerfully insisted. 

“You’re just gonna give away that large sum of money to us?” Yakko asked incredulously. 

“Well, it’s from me and my best friend!” Pinky explained sincerely, nodding over to Brain. The big-headed mouse’s face faltered, surprised that Pinky would share the spotlight in his good deed. 

“Brain was the one who found the coins, and we decided to share the money with you! Zort!” Pinky pleasantly told the children, causing Brain’s to draw a ragged breath.

“I don’t deserve such praise from Pinky…” The smaller mouse pondered. As his eyes started to water, he rapidly blinked his eyelids to fight off the tears that threatened to fall. 

Yakko graciously accepted the coin from Pinky and inspected both sides. He knocked the coin on the bedpost and smiled. “Yup, it’s real!” 

Wakko and Dot cheered as they took turns holding the gold coin, their eyes glimmered with fascination at their newfound wealth. Pinky’s blue eyes shined, elated to see the smiles on the poor children’s face, and even happier that he did his part to contribute to their joy. 

Having fought back his tears, Brain briefly smiled at the sight. 

“Thank you guys so much!” Dot exclaimed gratefully. She leaned down and patted Pinky’s head, who eagerly tapped his foot at the affectionate gesture.

“Man, I wish we could think of some way to repay you two,” Wakko added, turning his attention toward the smaller mouse. 

Brain frowned as he shook his head. “There’s no need to fret over that. You children don’t owe us anything.” He shoved a hand into his fur pocket and tucked the gold coin underneath his other arm. “Now if you’ll excuse us, my associate and I must swiftly return home to avoid detection from the greedy tax collector.” He informed. With a quick turn, the eloquent mouse walked back into the shadow and made his exit from the shabby water tower. 

“Goodnight kiddies!” Pinky cheered as he followed his roommate. 

“Goodnight!” The Warners chorused, beaming their grateful smiles at the mice. Pinky returned the smile before he left. 

Pinky stepped outside into the bitter cold, still warmed from helping out the poor orphans. With a joyful laugh, the mouse skipped and twirled around on the village street. All of his remorse from accidentally losing the third coin was washed away and replaced with the joy and giddiness from seeing the precious smiles on the Warners’ faces. A sentimental image that he will always hold in his heart. Oh, how wonderful it was for him and Brain to lend a helping hand!

As Pinky glanced at Brain, who still had his hand in his pocket and stopped in the alley near their humble abode. The taller mouse ceased his twirling and approached his most trusted companion. 

“Oh Brain, wasn’t it wonderful to see the kiddies happy?” Pinky happily asked. But he did not receive a response. Brain remained silent as he looked up at the starry sky above. 

“Brain?” Pinky carefully addressed. 

“Why did you share the credit with me?” Brain softly inquired, still looking up at the night sky. 

Pinky didn’t hesitate to answer his query. “Because you were the one who found the coins while we were dumpster diving,” He eagerly explained. “and if it weren’t for you then we would have gone back home empty-handed and the kiddies would still be penniless! Zort!” 

Brain turned his head towards Pinky, stunned by his roommate’s reasoning. He then let out a tired exhale and walked through the front door of their humble home. 

After a few seconds of staring at the doorway, Pinky cautiously followed Brain’s footprints. The taller mouse stopped to take a step next to one of the footprints before taking a step back. Pinky gazed at the different footprints, his feet were remarkably bigger than Brain’s, which were practically tiny. But despite how different they appeared, the footprints were close together like two very good friends. Much like how he was close to Brain. The lanky mouse smiled at the two footprints for a few moments longer before heading inside. 

When Pinky arrived, he saw his roommate extinguish the match he used to light the candle that sat atop the bureau near their matchbox bed. The lanky mouse silently yanked the string on the pull-down screen that Brain used to map out his schemes as a feeble attempt to keep out the cold winds. 

The chubby mouse tossed aside his purple scarf and brown fingerless gloves. He retrieved his blue nightgown and nightcap from the bureau and changed into his pajamas. 

Pinky swiftly moved behind the wooden beam to respect his roommate’s privacy. The lanky mouse took off his scarf and dressed in his yellow nightgown and nightcap. After waiting patiently for a minute he decided to call out to Brain. 

“Can I come over now?” He asked. 

“Certainly.” Brain answered in an unusually quiet voice. 

Pinky emerged from behind the beam and carefully approached Brain, now dressed in his pajamas. The smaller mouse wore a particularly forlorn expression that greatly worried Pinky. 

“Is something wrong Brain?” He softly inquired. 

The chubby mouse sighed as he brushed the dust off of his blue nightgown. He looked into his roommate’s soft blue eyes and was captivated by the compassion they seemed to exude. After getting lost in the pool of his companion’s loving stare, Brain darted his own pink eyes to the floor and was compelled to address what was on his mind. 

“I don’t know what you see in me, Pinky…” Brain admitted as he pulled back the covers of their bed and got into bed. 

Pinky quietly listened to the sullen confession. But he couldn’t understand why Brain would say such things.

Why Brain’s the most determined and hard-working person he ever met! Even when his plans to take over the world backfired, he rarely dwelled on his failures and got right back up, eager to come up with another plan. And Pinky was well aware that while there were many good and wonderful things in the world (like Brain, Pharfignewton, and ice sculptures made from frozen spit) there were many bad, awful things in the world (like that awful meanie King Saladbar and his terrible taxes). But Brain was motivated to take over the world so he could make it a better place for everyone! 

And even though Brain can be grumpy, he and Pinky did almost everything together! Living in the same place, sharing the same bed, and even working on plans to take over the world together! Pinky loved and respected Brain. Brain just needed to be reminded of how important he was.

“Well, I see my best friend in the whole world.” Pinky offered with a gentle smile. 

Brain’s eyes widened in shock, kneading his fingers over the thin purple blanket. While he was always pondering over his plans and focused on fulfilling his destiny to take over the world, he sometimes forgot about how Pinky held him in such high-regards. That imbecilic mouse was simply too good for this world. 

If Brain was being honest with himself, he didn’t deserve to have a friend like Pinky. But then again, he needed to have someone like Pinky in his life. Someone who supported his goals for world domination, but wasn’t afraid to usher him to use his heart when making decisions as opposed to his superior intellect. And despite his easily distracted nature and occasional clumsiness, Pinky was an absolute godsend of a friend. Always eager to assist Brain in his schemes, making his favorite meals, and cheering him up when he needed it most. Brain loved Pinky, but he could never bring himself to admit that. 

Instead of professing his honest musings, the eloquent mouse simply looked into his roommate’s beautiful blue eyes once more with a sad smile on his lips. “That’s very kind of you, my charitable chum.” 

Pinky smiled, happy that Brain was feeling better than he was earlier. The taller mouse hopped into bed and settled himself next to the mouse he admired. While Pinky laid on his back, Brain shifted over on the right side of the bed, curling himself into a protective ball. 

A gust of cold wind blew through the makeshift shield that covered their front door and into their home. Brain shuddered as he felt the frigid wind seep into his fur and instinctively rubbed his arms for warmth. Even the added layers of his nightgown and blanket weren’t enough for the freezing wind to seep into his fur. 

Pinky noticed his shivering companion and it didn’t take long for the taller mouse to gently wrap his arms around his pudgy roommate, pulling him into a soft and affectionate embrace. He laid his chin on top of Brain’s large cranium, waiting for any sort of reaction from him. 

For once, Brain didn’t bother to recoil from Pinky’s loving hug. Although his intellectual side insisted that he needed the extra warmth from his roommate’s body heat to combat the cold weather, his vulnerable side (as much as he tried to conceal it) reminded him that it was okay to accept the comfort his friend so kindly provided. 

“Thank you…” He sighed contentedly, causing the lanky mouse to smile. 

“Goodnight Brain.” Pinky said sweetly, keeping him in his gentle hold. 

Brain smiled as he immersed himself in Pinky’s hug. 

“Goodnight Pinky…” 

Two Years Later

Inside the walls of the royal castle, Prime Minister Brain, now dressed in a black robe, white ruffled neckerchief, and curled powdered wig, was writing away in his office. With the strokes of his feathered pen, the mouse placed the finishing touches on the new laws he planned to propose to the monarchs: mandatory public education for all youths under eighteen which would be properly funded by the government and taxpayer money, the abolition of child labor, and the establishment of affordable healthcare. Knowing all of the hardships he, Pinky, and the other citizens of Acme Falls endured during the terrible reign of Salazar the Pushy, Brain vowed to use his political authority to undo the damage caused by the tyrant and enact positive social change to bolster a more prosperous Warnerstock. 

The mouse grinned at the documents, immensely satisfied with his work. All he needed was the Warners’ stamp of approval before these new laws would be put into place. 

He placed the feathered pen back into the ink jar, straightened out the papers, and got up from his seat. After stretching out his arms and back, he walked over to the window. Brain smiled as he admired the beautiful view of Acme Falls and the rest of the valley from the comfort of the castle. 

He could hardly believe that his wish for a position of power had been granted. 

After the events of the wishing star, the village of Acme Falls and the rest of Warnerstock was ushered into a new age of peace and prosperity. The purchases from Wakko’s two ha’pennies resulted in a thriving economy for the little town, which extended throughout the rest of the country. Once it was revealed that the Warners were actually the surviving children of King William the Good and Queen Angelina Contessa Louisa Francesca Banana Fana Bo Besca II, Salazar was removed from the throne. In his absence, Yakko, Wakko, and Dot Warner were crowned the new co-rulers of Warnerstock. During the transfer to power, the children needed to bring aboard someone who was trustworthy enough to assist them in governmental affairs and lead the cabinet of ministers. After reviewing all of the competent adult figures in Acme Falls in need of employment, they all agreed that Brain was the most qualified candidate for the job. The day after the interview, the Warner siblings appointed Brain as their Royal Advisor as well as the new Prime Minister of Warnerstock. 

Coming off the heels of his years as a poor inventor with a desire for political power, Brain was thriving in his new career. His first order of business was to appoint Pinky to work in the stables. The chubby mouse recognized how important Pharfignewton was to his hopeless romantic of a roommate, so he decided to reward Pinky with the job that would allow him to spend more time with the mare he was so dearly fond of. 

As the Royal Advisor to the new monarchs, Brain was responsible for lending his political expertise to the Warner siblings so that they would become capable and just rulers Warnerstock deserved. The small mouse applied his extensive knowledge of the previous world leaders to tutor them on the dos and don’ts of leading a country. But Brain quickly learned that the best way for the siblings to retain this knowledge was through the alluring power of music. As a result, Brain wrote and performed many songs about the monarchs of the past, the history of Warnerstock, and various aspects of political science, all of which were sung to the tunes of catchy folk songs and memorable classical music. Having to come up with new songs for each lesson proved to be a challenge for the Royal Advisor. Fortunately, King Yakko lent a helping hand and collaborated with Brain in his spare time to work on the songs. 

Prime Minister Brain also performed skits with the Warners to practice appropriate behavior for when they needed to attend important social events outside of the castle. He hoped that by having the kids act out how to properly speak to their subjects, the kids would adopt those traits as they grow older. 

Dot also consulted with Brain when it came to matters of party planning for royal balls. Researching the latest fashion trends, deciding what music would best fit the atmosphere, dealing with catering and decorations. Brain even recruited Pinky to teach the Warners how to properly waltz. As a result of their collaboration, their first royal ball proved to be a smashing success. 

In addition to advising the Warners, Prime Minister Brain worked to fulfill all the duties that came with being the head of the government. In regards to overseeing the kingdom with the Warners, Brain did most of the heavy-lifting when it came to wielding political influence. The mouse led meetings with the Cabinet of Ministers to discuss matters of finances, education, and the like. He also drafted new laws and policies, as well as reviewing laws proposed by other members of the Cabinet, before awaiting approval from the Warners. 

The reason why Brain accepted the extra work was so that the Warners could have some much-needed downtime for themselves to indulge in some crazy kid shenanigans all around the castle. After years of having fend for themselves, they deserved to act like regular kids and create cherished childhood memories while they were still young. 

While being the Prime Minister of a small European country was not the same as being the supreme potentate of the globe, the mouse was thoroughly content with his current political career. 

Perhaps in due time, Brain could convince the Warners to peacefully transfer their sovereign powers over to him while the siblings kept their royal titles and all the comforts that came with it. And with the kingdom under his control, he could use his status as the benevolent and undisputed ruler of Warnerstock to manipulate other world leaders to do his bidding and finally take over the world! 

“Knock, knock!” He heard a distinguished cockney accent singing from behind the door. 

“Come in, Pinky.” Brain commanded as he turned away from the window. 

Pinky opened the door and waltzed into his office. The taller mouse twirled around and pranced towards the table as he sang the tune of Hungarian Rhapsody No. 2. 

“La la la la! La la la la! La la la la! La la la la!” Pinky belted out as he climbed up the table leg. 

Once he perched himself on the table, he swiftly grabbed Brain and broke out into a giddy waltz. Brain blushed when his cheek collided with Pinky’s. The smaller mouse surrendered as he listened to the rest of the verse. While Pinky’s singing was not great by any means, Brain couldn’t help but smile as he saw the jubilant expression on the lanky mouse’s face. 

After spinning around, Pinky gently placed Brain back on the table. The Prime Minister swiftly grabbed a hold of the taller mouse’s arm to steady himself. Once Brain regained his composure, he adjusted his powdered wig and looked up to Pinky. “I see you’re doing well for yourself, my rhythmically-agile friend.” 

“Oh Brain, I had such a fun-fun silly-willy time with Pharfignewton this morning! After brushing her teeth and combing her mane, we took a ride around the royal gardens to admire the pretty flowers!” Pinky eagerly replied, clasping his paws together. “I can’t thank you enough for allowing me to work in the stables! Troz!” 

“My pleasure, Pinky. Your happiness is important to me, my friend.” Brain said as he gently ruffled Pinky’s hair. The lanky mouse contentedly closed his eyes as he accepted the loving gesture.

Then the mice heard someone knocking on the door. 

“You may enter.” Brain commanded, swiftly placing his hands behind his back. 

The door opened and three royally dressed children entered the room. King Yakko, King Wakko, and Queen Dot happily smiled at the mice. The children were adorned in their sparkling regal attire. Brain noticed that the siblings were considerably healthier now that they had a stable roof over their heads and were financially well off. 

“Ah, good afternoon your excellencies.” Brain politely addressed with a short bow. 

“Good day your majesties!” Pinky exclaimed as he dramatically fell to the table, bowing before the children. 

“Aw come on fellas, there’s no need for over-the-top formalities,” Yakko assured as he motioned for Pinky to stand up. 

“Yeah, you two are cool with us,” Wakko added. 

“We just wanted to drop by to see how you two were doing.” Dot said. 

“We’re doing just swell, my queen! Narf!” Pinky gushed “Why I had a grand old time taking care of Pharfignewton and riding her around the castle.” 

“How wonderful!” Dot happily replied as she gently scooped Pinky into her hands. 

“And you three arrived at the perfect time, for I just completed my proposal.” Brain declared as he collected his papers. 

“Oh, who’s the lucky lover?” Yakko asked with a cheeky grin. 

Brain quickly glanced at Pinky and promptly shook his head. “I wasn’t referring to that type of proposal and I’m not courting anyone at the moment.” 

“We could wield our power to arrange some dates for you if you’d like.” Dot offered with a sly smile. “I know someone who would be the perfect romantic partner.” She looked at the Prime Minister while giving a subtle gesture towards Pinky. 

“I know a few horses who are totally in your league!” Pinky added. 

“That won’t be necessary.” Brain dismissed. The smaller mouse picked up his documents and walked over towards the monarch. “Now that you all addressed my imprecise wording in jest, I’ve recently drafted a new set of laws to improve the social welfare of our country and would greatly appreciate your feedback on the matter.” 

Yakko grabbed the papers, with Wakko standing on his tippy-toes to get a better look at the documents. Dot placed Pinky back on the table with Brain and joined her older brothers.  siblings as they perused through the proposed laws. But it wasn’t long before they were excited by what they were reading. 

“Reforms on public education!” Yakko declared. 

“No more child labor!” Wakko exclaimed. 

“More accessible healthcare!” Dot eagerly shouted. 

The young monarchs looked back at Brain with eager smiles. “Good work Prime Minister!” Yakko complimented. “All that’s left is the royal stamps of approval!” 

The Warner siblings reached into their pockets and retrieved their stamps, happily marking the front page with three differently colored WB symbols. 

Brain couldn’t help allow a satisfied smile on his face as his new laws were highly favored by the young kings and queen. “I’m elated to know that you three are pleased with these new laws.” He admitted. 

“We just want to make Warnerstock a better place!” Dot insisted. 

“I knew that we could trust you since you’re always looking out for the needs of the little guy,” Yakko mentioned. “Much like that time you and Pinky gave us a good portion of your life savings back when Acme Falls was a dump and everyone was dirt poor.” 

“You kids remembered that?” Brain sputtered with wide eyes. 

“Well of course! How could we forget about a kind thing like that?” Wakko asked. 

Brain hadn’t realized the full extent to how he and Pinky had impacted the Warners with the gold coin. While Brain was mainly motivated to stay in Pinky’s good graces, Pinky’s kindness and compassion were what drew him to help the orphaned siblings in the first place. Brain felt a wave of guilt wash over him. He didn’t deserve their adulation. 

“You should all praise Pinky, for he was the one who thought to help you three in the first place.” The Prime Minister confessed as he gestured to the lanky mouse. “He noticed how miserable you kids looked and he sought out to give you anything we could find and I promised I would help out. And while I did find three coins that day, we lost one of them and I was so close to breaking that promise…” 

Pinky noticed his distraught companion and wanted to alleviate his woes. “But you still kept the Pinky Promise, Brain.” He consoled, placing a warm hand on his friend’s shoulder.

“I can understand how you felt,” Dot interjected with an assuring tone. “You and Pinky were struggling to get by too, and in all honesty, had I been in your position I would have kept the money!”

“But you still followed through on your promise.” Yakko countered. “And, if my memory serves correct, you were the one who assured us that we didn’t have to pay you back.” 

Brain was surprised that the Warners remembered their exchange so vividly. 

“And even though you didn’t want any financial compensation, we still wanted to show our gratitude.” Yakko continued. “But after some time, we found the perfect way to repay the moment you walked in for the job interview when we scouted Acme Falls for our Royal Advisor.” 

“So you selected me for the position solely out of moral obligation?” Brain questioned. 

“Well, yes and no,” Yakko admitted. “Of course we needed a trustworthy adult who was highly educated and well-versed in politics and people skills. Qualities that the other candidates sorely lacked.” 

“You have no idea how hard it was to conduct an interview with The Mime!” Dot interrupted. 

“But from the very moment you showed up, we immediately remembered how you and Pinky helped us out a couple of years earlier,” Yakko explained. “And after listening to your compelling answers, my sibs and I agreed that you were the right guy for the job!” 

“And even though you told us not to repay you, we still wanted to return the kindness,” Wakko added with a soft smile. 

Brain was stunned by the siblings’ thoughtfulness. He could only gaze at the young monarchs as a single tear escaped. 

It wasn’t long before Pinky pulled him into a gentle hug. Even though he frowned at being smothered with love in front of the monarchs, he secretly appreciated his friend’s affectionate gesture. 

Dot reached into her pocket and retrieved a handkerchief. “Here you are, Prime Minister.” The young queen kindly offered. Brain nodded as he accepted the cloth, wiping away the tear from his face. 

Once he placed the handkerchief on the table, he motioned for Pinky to release him from the embrace. Brain straightened out his black robe and adjusted his neckerchief to maintain his orderly appearance. The Prime Minister remembered that there had to be a reason why the monarchs visited him during work hours. 

“So to avoid any more mawkish sentiment, is there anything I could do for you while you’re still in my office?” Brain inquired. 

“Oh yeah!” Wakko exclaimed, remembering why he and his siblings dropped by in the first place. “We just wanted to drop by and invite you and Pinky to have lunch with us!” 

Reaching into his pocket, the middle child took out a folded table, which popped open to reveal plates and bowls filled with a variety of food that was still warm.  Wakko carefully placed the banquet in the middle of the office. Yakko grabbed three chairs and gathered them around the table. 

Dot carried the mice over to the table and placed them in front of two plates each holding a large wheel of cheese. 

“Naaarf.” Pinky expressed, his blue eyes glistening with joy at the glorious giant cheese wheel. Without warning, the mouse leaped into the air and dove into the cheese as if it was a giant swimming pool. 

“I suppose it’s only appropriate to take my lunch break now.” Brain affirmed with a shrug. He took a handful of the cheese and looked up at the Warner siblings. “Thank you for the thoughtful gesture.” 

Pinky emerged from the cheese wheel and looked up at the kids. “Thank you very much! Troz!” He added with an eager smile. 

“We’re always happy to provide for our friends!” Yakko casually replied.  

And so the mice and the monarchs happily shared their meals together, making pleasant conversation and jests and enjoying each other’s company. 

Additional AN: Wakko’s Wish was one of the many animated movies I was really fond of as a kid. The movie came out direct-to-video when I was seven, and I have memories of taking out Wakko’s Wish from Blockbuster (as well as other Animaniacs VHS tapes) and had a blast with this movie.

I recently revisited the movie and not only do I still like it, but there are a lot of things I appreciate about it. I like how it manages to capture the humorous spirit of the show and showcased the enjoyable character dynamics while telling a heartwarming story with believable stakes. The animation by TMS is beautiful and the musical numbers were pretty good. But probably my favorite aspect of the movie was that it served as a nice finale to the show and gave the majority of the characters satisfying send-offs: Rita and Runt receiving a permanent home when they’re adopted by Dr. Scratchinsniff, Buttons getting some appreciation, The Goodfeathers blissfully under the impression that they’re respected, and Brain receiving a position of power by becoming the Royal Advisor to the Warners and the Prime Minister of Warnerstock. And after seeing Brain try and try again after so many failures, it’s a really nice and fitting conclusion to his story (even if he doesn’t take over the world, he’d probably thrive as a government leader). 

So in addition to writing a story based on the previously mentioned post, I decided to expand upon Brain’s position as Prime Minister and Royal Advisor for the Warners, thinking about what their general relationship would be like. The idea of Brain using songs to lend political advice to the Warners was something that came serendipitously as I was writing. I thought about Brain’s political song numbers from the PATB spin-off, such as the glorious The Really Great Dictator and the wonderful A Meticulous Analysis of History, as well as Yakko’s educational songs. So those two would probably spend some time together as a collaborative song-writing duo lol. I also thought about how the Warners would love to throw parties at the castle, so Dot and Brain as party planners was the first thing that came to mind as well as Pinky as a part-time dance instructor!

Admittedly I kinda winged it when it came to using the gold coins as the thing Pinky and Brain found. I’m well aware that the ha’penny is seen as valuable to the citizens of Acme Falls, but I decided to place this story one year before Wakko went off to find his fortune via child labor. So I’m going off on the assumption that there was some higher currency that was still used in Acme Falls that was eventually confiscated by Baron von Plotz. 

The most important aspect I wanted to explore in this story was the loving relationship between Pinky and Brain. Their voice actors confirmed time and time again how much Pinky and Brain love each other. Now whether you interpret their relationship as a strong friendship, partners in crime, or even as a romance, there is no denying the love between these silly mice.

Also, I don’t recall if there was a moment in either the original run of Animaniacs or the PATB spin-off where Pinky and Brian made a pinky promise (if they didn’t, then they wasted an opportunity for a comedic or sentimental moment between the characters), so I thought about how they would only make pinky promises for something serious, and Brain would always keep his pinky promises to Pinky. 

I had a lot of fun writing this story in particular because I always wanted to explore more of the Wakko’s Wish universe and add some depth to what was presented in the film as well as playing around with what the characters would be up to after the events of the movie. 

Thank you for reading! 

#animaniacs #pinky and the brain #patb #wakko's wish #fanfic #brain #pinky #yakko warner #wakko warner #dot warner

[feralrunaway]

A New Day

CHAPTER 1

Summary: Captain Syverson finishes his latest tour and returns to his hometown only to find that things have changed since he’s been gone.

Warnings:  Cursing, Slight angst, Mentions of alcohol, Mentions of past abuse, Estrangement

Word count: 1,340

**Hi.  This is my first fanfiction ever, so bear with me.  I don’t know what I’m doing or how to tag things.  Also, I’ve never shared a story before it’s finished, and I’m doing this chapter by chapter and it’s giving me hella anxiety. I’m sorry if this sucks! I don’t own anything related to the SandCastle movie or its characters.  However, this is my original writing and I do not give permission for use of the idea or reposting without credit.**

Captain Jude Syverson looked out over the rim of his coffee mug at the base he’d been leading for the last year.  

Honestly, he wouldn’t miss it.  The sand. The sweat. The shit meals.  He’d made some good friends during his time there, but he was ready to be back in the States.  He was ready for hot showers and Southern cooking.  Some decent fucking beer.  Not that he was necessarily looking forward to being back home though.  

Home.

If you could call it that. He missed the creature comforts, but there were reasons that it hadn’t taken much persuasion to get him on board with every new assignment.  He felt a bit adrift.  Didn’t want to be here. Didn’t particularly want to be there either.  What was “home” anyway?  Just a place to hang your hat, he guessed with an internal shrug. He was going on extended leave, because according to his superiors he deserved it.  He scoffed.  More like he was given a new set of orders to go back to being a civilian for a year.  Some sort of mandatory mental health break wrapped up in a pretty package, he assumed.  

He took another drink of his coffee and sighed.  

“Pack it up boys, we’re trekking out at 0600.”

_________

As his plane neared the airport, Sy tried yet again to stuff his overly long legs into a comfortable position.  He hated this feeling.  Antsy and yet despondent.  He hadn’t bothered to call anyone to meet him at the airport.  

Ten years.  Ten fucking years he’d been bouncing back and forth between missions, bases, and crews.  Sy’s dad had passed a few years ago, a victim of his own bad habits, and his mother was convinced that keeping in touch with Sy was too painful a reminder of the man he looked and sounded so much alike. He had estranged himself from his remaining family with the exception of his little brother, who he only checked in with occasionally.  From the brief messages they had exchanged, Jonah seemed happy enough with his new, very quiet stay-at-home wife and his four-year-old son.  Perfect little small town fam-damily.  

Honestly he was only going back home because he didn’t know where the hell else to go.  Didn’t make a difference, he supposed.  He could find some work, fix up a place, bide his time until the Army saw fit to bring him back for something new.

__________________

After the hour-long drive in the Texas heat to Jonah’s place, Sy was more than ready for that shower he had been lusting after for the last year.  He stepped out of his rental car and stared a bit at the perfectly manicured lawn of his brother’s house.  Not that he’d expected his brother to be a slob, the Syversons were raised to be orderly, but this looked like something out of a movie set.

The front door opened, and his brother stepped out.

“Jude!  Welcome home big brother!” Jonah said, stepping close and clasping his hand.  His brother was smaller in stature than him, but his firm grip belied a confidence he didn’t remember him having years ago.  Jonah stood almost a head shorter than him, dressed in a suit and nice shoes. Sy felt dirty in comparison, standing on the nice front lawn in fatigues.  

“Jonah,” Sy nodded, “Look like you’re doin’ well for yourself.”

“New times, brother, better times,” Jonah said cryptically.  “Come on in, you look like hell big guy.  Marianne just started dinner.  Let’s get you settled and fed, yeah?”

Sy crossed the threshold and toed his boots off next to the door.  A peek at the gleaming wood floors told him his sister-in-law probably wouldn’t appreciate any dirt tracked across her house.  A light clatter from the left alerted him to where the kitchen was located, along with Marianne’s whereabouts.  

“Care to introduce us?” Sy asked.  

“Nah, brother, you’ll meet her at dinner.  Let’s get you cleaned up, yeah?” Jonah’s tone already set him on edge.  In the past, his brother, younger by almost 6 years, had always been a bit meek.  Growing up, Sy had done everything he could to protect him from their father’s drunken wrath, but Jonah had been a quiet sort, more adept at bookish things than Sy. When he’d left for the Army, he’d hoped Jonah was old enough and strong enough to make his own way, but he’d given himself plenty of grief over leaving his baby brother who he’d practically raised on his own.  Seems he had worried unnecessarily, but something about this overbearing, almost-false confidence in Jonah’s demeanor set his teeth to grinding.    

“Yeah, man.  I’d love a decent shower.”

______________

After letting the hot water pound down on himself for probably longer than was necessary, Sy toweled off and changed into a clean set of fatigue pants and a Led Zeppelin tee. He had long since forgone the need for most civilian clothes.  Maybe that was something he would have to get used to again.  He made a mental note to go shopping for some jeans, along with finding a new car the next day, and made his way downstairs to dinner.

The table was set impeccably, Sy noticed as he joined the others in the dining room, again feeling out of place amongst the finery his brother seemed to have developed an affinity for in his absence.  

“Jude, my wife, Marianne, and this is your nephew, Beau,” his brother said, holding a hand out toward each in turn.  Marianne was a pretty woman, blonde, late twenties by the looks of her, clad in a neat blue dress and an apron.  Sy leaned in to kiss her cheek.  

“Oh,” Marianne said quietly, accepting his greeting awkwardly.  “Nice to meet you Jude.  What will you have to drink?”

“No need to serve me, darlin’,” Sy said warmly, “I’ll help myself to some beer if you’ve got it.”

Marianne looked to Jonah.

“We uh..we actually don’t have any alcohol. Just a water for my brother, Marianne.” Jonah said and she shuffled off to the kitchen.

Beau sat quietly at the end of the dining table, staring slightly wide-eyed at his uncle.  

“Beau,” Sy nodded. “You sure as shit got your daddy’s blue eyes don’tcha? Nice to meet ya little man,” he said with a chuckle.

Beau continued to stare, looking unsure.

“Greet your uncle, Beau,” Jonah said lowly.

“Uh, uhm…nice to meet you Uncle Jude,” Beau said nervously.  

“Call me Uncle Sy, little man, haven’t been called by my given name in years, not really used to it anymore,” Sy said with a warm smile. The boy seemed to take mostly after his grandfather, a mop of brown curls on his head and that unusual chunk of brown visible in his left eye, just like Sy’s own.  Sy immediately felt a pit of shame open up in his gut for not having been there to get to know him early on.

“Beau, go wash up,” Marianne said quietly as she set the men’s drinks on the table for them and disappeared back into the kitchen to retrieve the dishes for dinner. Beau disappeared quickly to do as told.

“Seems you run a tight ship around here, little brother,” Sy commented as he sat down and sipped at his water.  

“It’s a new day, brother,” Jonah replied.  “I’ve learned a few things since you’ve been gone.”

Sy sat awkwardly through the rest of dinner.  It was nice to have some fresh, home cooked food, but reintegrating himself with family he barely knew left him feeling drained.

“If y’all will excuse me now, I’m dead tired,” he said, “I’m gonna hit the hay. Lots to do tomorrow.”

Sy said good night to his brother’s little family and headed up to the guest room they had designated for him. He was exhausted after what little interaction he’d had with them and was more than ready to be alone.

Feeling more unsure of his decision to come home than ever, Sy fell into a fitful sleep.

(Oct 11, 2020)

#captain syverson #sandcastle #fanfic #fan fiction #a new day

[alice-dont-break]

Eek first time posting my fics!!

Thanks @drewsjasmine for the request, I hope you like it!

1.7k words

Movie Premiere | Janthony One Shot

“Damn, baby,” Anthony smirked as he walked into the bathroom he shared with his wife. He found Jasmine in her robe with her curls pulled back elegantly, as she put the finishing touches on her makeup look for the premiere this evening. “You look stunning,” he added, wrapping his arms around her waist, bringing her back flush against his chest and letting his chin rest on her shoulder so he could admire her in the mirror.

“Thanks, love,” she replied.

“You’re ready early,” he said, cocking an eyebrow.

Jasmine spun in his arms and placed her hands on his waist to brace herself. “Just wanted lots of time to get Cass ready in case she fusses... are you sure about bringing her?” Jasmine’s lips pursed and brow furrowed, and Anthony could read her nerves like a book.

“It’s your call, love. I know I’ll be doing press for a lot of the evening so you’ll be watching her. I’d love to have both my girls there, and I think she’d have a great time, but if you’re not comfortable we can leave her with your mom and Clara.” Anthony’s hands ran up and down Jasmine’s back as he spoke, trying earnestly to soothe the worries he could see bubbling over.

Jasmine was fiercely protective of both their daughters. Cassidy, age nine, and Clara, age four, were her curly-haired, giggly little angels, and the thought of putting one of them in the midst of bright lights, screaming fans, and crowds of photographers was enough to put a pit deep in her stomach.

“I want her there too, I’m j-just worried it’ll be t-too much... all the people and chaos and everything...”

“I love how much you care about our girls,” Anthony smiled as his hand slid to the nape of Jasmine’s neck to pull her into a chaste kiss. “What if we have a little signal? Squeeze three times if anyone’s getting overwhelmed and we can find a quiet place together?”

“Yeah, th-that sounds good. Can make sure she understands I’m not working and am just there to make sure she’s okay,” Jasmine said while nodding slowly.

Anthony couldn’t help the smile that crept across his face. “I’m so excited, Jas.”

“Me too, my love. This is a huge moment for you! Gonna need someone to take a picture of the moment Cass figures out her papa is the good guy in a disney movie.”

“Can I ruin your lipstick?” Anthony asked with a smug little smile.

Jasmine, of course, agreed, by holding his face and pressing their lips together. She started with three quick pecks, then paused and ghosted her lips over his. “I love you,” she whispered into him.

“I love you more,” he replied. With his lips parted, Jasmine took advantage and leaned into him again, kissing him hard. A nip at her bottom lip sent a flutter through her chest, and she pulled back.

“Alright, that’s enough, or else you’re gonna ruin a lot more than just my lipstick,” she teased.

Anthony relented, and pulled her back into a hug with a soft kiss to her forehead.

For the next hour, Anthony reviewed his talking points for the carpet with Clara bouncing on his lap, while Jasmine helped Cassidy get ready. She was seated up on the bathroom counter, while her doting mother treated her curls until they were shiny and pinned half back.

“Mama, can you make my eyes pretty like yours?”

“Your eyes are already pretty, lovie,” Jasmine smiled as she brushed her knuckle under her daughter’s chin.

“But I want them to be all sparkly like yours!”

“You’re too young for makeup, baby. Just a little bit of lip gloss and then you’ve gotta get your dress on.”

Cassidy pouted and reached out to hold her mother’s hand. “Pleeeease mama,” she whined, “just a little bit of sparkle?”

Jasmine was normally good at putting her foot down, but something about the excitement of the day had left her wrapped around her little girl’s finger. “Alright, alright, fine. But just this once, and only a little bit!” She rolled her eyes as she rummaged through a drawer for her most sparkly eye shadow pallet.

Cassidy was giving a big, toothy grin as she was told to close her eyes, and Jasmine used her little finger to tap a blush pink glitter onto her eyelids. She finished off the look with the tiniest bit of highlighter at the top of Cassidy’s cheekbones, then handed her a mirror.

“Like it, baby girl?”

“Eeee thank you mama!” she squealed, reaching up to wrap her arms tightly around her mom’s neck. Jasmine picked her up and swung her around and off the counter, before setting her down with a kiss to the top of her neatly curled hair.

“You’re welcome, you look beautiful Cass.”

Jasmine then helped her little girl into her pink, knee-length dress featuring a silver bow around the waist that matched her sparkly ballet flats. By the time she’d put on her own gown and emerged in the living room, Anthony was there waiting with their two girls and Jasmine’s mom.

“Hey mama,” she smiled, greeting Kim with a quick peck to the cheek.

“Car’s gonna be here in five, babe,” Anthony said.

Immediately, Clara sat up and pouted. “I wanna come with you too!”

“I know baby,” Anthony cooed as he scooped her up into his arms, “when you’re a bit older you’ll get to come. But tonight you’re gonna have fun with Grandma, right?”

“And Clar, don’t you have something for Papa?” Jasmine winked, pointing over to the coffee table.

Clara wriggled out of Anthony’s arms and toddled over to retrieve a folded piece of paper that she eagerly passed back to her father. “Sweetheart this is amazing!” he cried, looking intently at the card that read “Congratulations Papa”. He recognized the handwriting as Jasmine’s, but the scribbled colors were certainly Clara’s. “Thank you so much sweetheart,” he grinned, peppering kisses all over her face until she was giggling and squirming in his embrace. With all that loving, their youngest daughter let them get on the road barely a few minutes late.

Cassidy was buzzing in the car ride, asking all sorts of questions about what the event would be like. By the time they arrived, Jasmine had reminded her at least five times to stay close and remember their hand squeeze signal.

When they arrived at the venue, the driver helped them out of the car, and Jasmine smoothed out her and Cassidy’s dresses before taking a tight grip of her daughter’s hand. “Remember, no walking off, be polite, and squeeze three times if you don’t feel good.”

Anthony led the way to the foot of the carpet, then stepped between his girls to take each of their hands. When the cameras spotted them and started to flash and yell, Cassidy froze in her tracks. Anthony felt the tug on his arm right away, and crouched down to her eye-line.

“Hey, you okay Cass? Just blink extra hard a few times and you’ll get used to all the lights. Just lots of people taking pictures like I told you about. Let’s just hang here til you’re ready,” he said softly.

After a couple of seconds of pressing her lids together to adjust to all the flashing cameras, Cassidy looked up at her dad and nodded, so off they went. The first stop along the carpet was a line of interviewers, so Anthony passed Cassidy’s hand back to Jasmine, as he stepped up to the first reporter. The girls hung back for a few minutes, until one reporter took notice.

“Jasmine, hey Jasmine! What’s it like being here tonight for you husband?”

Before stepping up, Jasmine leaned down to Cassidy and reminded her of their signal.

“We’re super excited to be here! I’m really proud of Anthony and all the work he’s put into this film, and I know the fans are going to love it,” she said sweetly.

“Is this your daughter?

“Yep! This is our eldest daughter Cassidy, and we have another little girl at home too.”

“How old are you dear?”

“I’m nine!” she said cheerfully.

“And are you excited for the movie tonight?”

“Yes I’m super excited and proud of my papa!”

Jasmine squeezed Cassidy’s hand extra tight as she answered a couple more questions about her own projects, then they walked back to a quieter spot to wait for Anthony. When he came back he led them with a gentle hand on Jasmine’s back over to the line of photographers.

After a couple of solo shots at his first spot, he reached out for Cassidy’s hand and started to pose with her. He got down on one knee beside her so he could put an arm around her waist and smush their faces together as she giggled, and made sure to give her a kiss on the top of her head before standing back up. When he moved along to the next spot, he pulled Jasmine into the frame as well for a few family shots. The photographers went crazy when he hoisted Cassidy up onto his hip with Jasmine tucked into his other side, and he cheesed while both his girls kissed his cheeks.

When they got the end of the carpet, Anthony met up with a few of his co-stars as Jasmine and Cassidy went to go get settled in the theater. When he found the girls later on, they each jumped up to give him a kiss, before settling into either side of him. He wrapped his arms around their shoulders as they eagerly awaited the start of the film.

Once the show began, Anthony barely noticed the boisterous laughter and cheers from the crowd, as the only reaction he cared about was from the little girl sitting next to him. Every time she laughed or smiled up at him, his heart swelled and he pulled her in even closer, pressing kisses to her temple while he squeezed his wife’s hand. Through the end of the film and the round of applause that followed, his mind was fixed on the one thought he repeated over and over again in interviews on the red carpet.

“Everything I do, every piece of art I put into the world, is for those two beautiful ladies standing back there, and the one waiting for me at home.”

#janthony #janthony fics #my fics

[kiraswritten]

A Soldier Told Me (Reader x Bucky) | end

(REPOST)

pairing: reader x bucky barnes warnings: cursing, smut, unprotected sex, 18+ ONLY, fluff, sarge kink, dirty talk summary: Steve rarely gets drunk but once he drinks the liquor Thor brings from Asgard, the man will tell you anything AND everything…

a.n: thank you so much for reading! i really liked writing this and i apologize for the lateness of this last part!

i think i’ll write an epilogue involving steve ;) but who knows, ive never written a threesome before… so.. yeah! LOL enjoy!

MASTERLIST

part one | part two | part three | part four | part five | part six (end)

You found yourself staring at the ceiling one morning, a smile on your lips. Bucky was still fast asleep, his flesh arm draped across your waist, his face smushed on his pillow.

To think this all started because Steve got drunk out of his mind. You let out a small giggle, quiet enough so that Bucky wouldn’t wake up.

Dating Bucky was like being in a romantic comedy but even better, which to your disbelief was your new reality.

All your worries about being in a relationship and being an Avenger were immediately squashed; you were scared that if the two of you were in the field he’d become reckless and unnecessarily protect you.

Because you were teammates first, he fully trusted your abilities; in fact, the two of you worked even better as a duo on missions, surprising everyone in the process.

“It’s cause Barnes finally got laid.” Sam joked, earning him a jab to his side by Steve.

You turn your attention to the man next to you, you sandwich your hands between your head and your pillow, watching Bucky sleep.

He looked so serene and peaceful, you heard him softly snoring, making you bite down on your lip to prevent yourself from smiling any bigger, the simple things make you swoon over him.

You reach out to cup his cheek, rubbing your thumb against his skin Bucky melts into your touch, his lips curving into a smile.

“Mornin’ Love,” He says huskily, thank god for his morning voice. “When’d you come back, ‘think I fell asleep before you came back.”

“I got back a little after three, sorry I came home so late.” you said, inching closer towards him.

Bucky shook his head, he rubbed one of his eyes, finally opening them.

“Don’t be sorry Darlin’, it comes with the job.” He wraps his flesh arm around your waist, pulling you closer to him. “Now give me a kiss, been missin’ you for days.”

You roll your eyes at him, you’d never get tired of his cheesiness, “I was only gone for two days Baby.”

Bucky leans his face close to yours, rubbing his nose with yours, “Two days is too long, the max I can take being apart from you is ten minutes and that’s already pushin’ it.”

You scrunch your nose, finally giving in and pressing a kiss onto his lips. The second you pull away, Bucky frowns, “that’s it?”

“Buck, morning breath,”

“Must we go through this every morning when I wanna kiss my best girl? Don’t care about morning breath, I kissed you after you ate that God awful green-”

You puff out your cheeks, lightly hitting Bucky’s chest.

Bucky lets out a breathless sigh, amused by your actions. “Just lemme kiss you”

It starts off slow, your lips against his, Bucky’s always made kissing feel special, as if each time was the first; the force behind the kiss barely there till you grow impatient and push back harder.

Bucky does this on purpose, teasing you till you initiate, his hands running down your sides, his metal hand gripping at your waist, his daft fingers playing with waistband of your shorts, amused you had no underwear on.

His fingers drag down your skin, Bucky groans against your lips, “Finally listening to me Darlin’?”

“Shut up, I’m running out of cute underwear cause you keep ripping them off.”

Bucky chuckles, “Can’t say I’m sorry, those things look amazing on you but I’m too impatient to wait,”

Before you could reply, you felt his touch ghosts at your entrance, you let out a sigh.

“Let ‘em out Darlin’, God I love the noises ya make, get me so hard so quick,” He pushes a finger into your core, your slick covering his finger with your juices. Bucky pumps his finger into you, slowly, your eyes shut, gripping onto the sheets.

Bucky adds another finger inside, stretching you slowly, “Fuck, your clenching on me so tight, need to loosen you up so you can take me Darlin’,”

“Fuck,” you gasped as he added the third one in, pumping his fingers quicker.

“Like my fingers stretching ya out Doll? Fuck, you’re soaked,” He grins, drinking up the sight of you falling apart under his touch. He squeezes your left breast, rolling your nipples between his index and middle fingers. “Tell me, how much do ya’ like it?” He teases.

“Ff-uck, I love it Buck, I love your fingers,” you suck in a breath, “Please Buck, need you, need your co-ck f-UCK!” You yelp out, Bucky hitting your g-spot with his fingers, you began matching his pace, fucking yourself onto his fingers.

Bucky lets go of your breast and grips your hips still. He pulls his fingers out, his hand completely drenched in you. He takes all three fingers into his mouth and sucks, moaning at the taste of your juices.

“Delicious,”

You whimper at the loss, your body humming with anticipation.

“You look so good, fuck, you need my cock don’t ya Doll? Need me to fill ya?” He grins mischievously already thinking of the various positions he wants to put you in.

He pushes the head of his cock past your folds, both his hands wrapped around your wrists, pinning them down above your head, you whimper ‘yes’ as he slides his cock inside you, slowly, letting you feel him, letting your walls clench around his hardened cock.

With each movement you feel your pleasure build up once more.

“S’fuckin’ good, so fuckin’ good, can’t get enough of ya’Doll, your pussy’s mine, fuck, all mine.” He groans, he brings down his head down to your neck, pressing kisses against your skin till he reaches your pulse point, he licks a stripe down, making you shudder.

“It’s all I think about when you’re gone, your moans, your face, how you feel-”

“Buck, please,” You gasp, unable to finish your sentence.

Bucky’s taking too long for your liking, and he knows it. He knew how to get you so wound up, a single thrust could trigger your orgasm.

“Please what Darlin’?” He teased, his hot breath against your skin.

“Sarge, fuck me, please,” you gasp, feeling his teeth bite down your skin, Bucky grunts as he pulls out halfway then thrusting into you deeply.

“Fuck!” You yell out, “Yes, yes, yes, yes!” you chant as Bucky’s thrusts grow deeper and deeper, “Fuck me hard, Sarge!” You moan wantonly.  

“The mouth on you, fuck, Darlin, you feel so good,” He grunts, beads of sweat falling down his forehead. “So fuckin’ dirty and all mine,”

With each thrust your orgasm builds, the familiar feeling in the pit of your stomach growing.

“Bucky!” It was already to much for you, your grip on the sheets could only do so much to prevent yourself from coming once more, Bucky was hitting you in all the right places.

“Don’t cum yet Darlin’, wait for me,” He tells you, noticing how close you were to your orgasm.

“Please Bucky, I-I can’t-”

He groans, “Hold on for me Doll, just wait,” he pulls out suddenly, flipping you over so that your entire front pressed against the bed, Bucky slides himself back inside you with ease.

Bucky tilts your head upward meeting him in another searing kiss, your eyes shut, fingers pulling at the bedding as he thrusts hard cock in and out.

You pull away from the kiss, taking a huge gulp of breath, “Please Buck, I c-can’t. I need to-fuck Bucky, I need to cum!”

His hand is still at your neck, making you look up at him as his eyes glaze over with lust, Bucky’s eyes roll back, his tongue licking his bottom lip as he lazily looks down at you with hungry eyes.

“Bucky please, fuck oh fuck,”

You suck in a breath, harshly biting down on your bottom lip as he hits your spot perfectly, “fuckfuckfuckfuck!” you curse, shutting your eyes tightly.

“So fucking good, fuck, Baby I’m so close, come for me, cum!” He growls, you press your face onto the bed as his hands fly down at your waist, forcefully pulling your hips to meet his thrust, his cock hitting your g-spot over and over.

Bucky’s kisses your shoulder blade before he groans against your skin, emptying himself inside of you as the two of you came, your whole body buzzing at the amount of pleasure.

His thrusts grew sloppy and slow until his lower body collapses on top of yours, his arms holding himself up so that he wasn’t crushing you fully, you feel him start to place soft kisses against your back.

“You’re incredible.” He mumbles against your skin, letting his soft cock slide out of you, the mixture of your juices dripping down your thighs.

“Hold on,” He says, pushing himself off of you, walking into the bathroom to retrieve a washcloth.

Once you were all cleaned up, Bucky quickly changes the bedding, dumping all of sheets as well as your clothing into the laundry bin. In record time the two of you are cuddling once more in bed under the warm comforter, your head resting on Bucky’s flesh arm.

You could feel Bucky’s gaze on you as you lazily drew circles on his chest, your face began to heat up, making him chuckle, “Am I staring at you too much?”

You grin, shaking your head no.

“Sometimes it still feels so unreal I guess… I feel like the luckiest woman alive being with the love of my life.” you say.

Bucky leans in for a soft kiss, a smile growing on his lips, “I love you too Darlin’ I feel the same way.”

#bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes #marvel smut #bucky barnes fanfic

[buckysforeverprincess]

Let The Games Begin Ch. 3

Dark!Viking James Barnes x Reader, Steve Rogers

Words: 1911

Warnings: James still being an asshole.

A/N: Welcome back! I hope you’re all enjoying this fic as I have many plans for it. The entire thing is written in my head I just need to get it down and I promise to post it once a chapter is complete. In this chapter reader starts to put some things together. Let’s see just how this plays out. Enter Steve Rogers. Enjoy!

You sat on the bed staring out into the space that had become your home, looking at something and nothing all at the same time. You hated this room. It was the main room of James’ home and was where normal people ate and entertained guests but not this heathen. Civility had eluded him and had no hope of finding its way back to home to its master.

 When you arrived, James had moved his bed from the other room and set up camp in here. You watched as he pieced everything together and demanded you get used to it. This bed in this room was to be your chamber of torture and he your proud captor. It doesn’t matter how many days you spend trapped in this twisted version of hell, you’ll never get used to this life or the scum enslaving you. He could fall into a pit of acid for all you cared.

 “I’m leaving,” James says as he comes from the other room and heads over to the table where his knives are kept, breaking you from your thoughts. A glance in his direction sees him in dressed in some clothing you haven’t seen that appears to be a lot nicer than usual. Hopefully he’s going to ride himself off a cliff and chose to dress up for the occasion to look decent for the people sent to retrieve the mess at the bottom. A woman can always dream, can’t she?

 “I’m leaving Steven to keep an eye on you today and Wanda will bring your lunch,” James says, his body half turned, and you can see his profile.

 “Your whore?” The words were out of your mouth before you could stop them, and you honestly didn’t care.

 James side eyes you and you can see his lips turned up in a grin. “Ahhh… so you’ve heard the talk, huh?” He looks to you, the grin now a full-on smile. “It’s a wonder you’ve heard anything. To my knowledge, you’ve never once left the house.”

 You scoff and shrug. “We all have our secrets, don’t we?”

 James clicks his tongue and nods. “That we do.” He turns his attention back to his task at hand.

 Watching him, you see him place several of his knives around his body, a few of them concealed where they can’t be seen to the naked eye. The last one he grabs is the one you know well, the one you used and failed to take his life with. His most favorite knife with the long blade and thick handle.

 James pulls it from his sheath and assess the blade, putting it up to his eye, carefully inspecting it for god knows what. Once he’s determined it’s worth, he inserts it back into its holder and makes his way over to where your sitting on the bed, holding the knife out to you.

 “Here. This is for you.”

 You look up at him, your eyes blinking in confusion. “What is this?”

 “A peace offering, for now.” He urges you to take the knife from his hand.

 “I don’t understand.”

 James rolls his eyes and sighs. “I’m leaving for the day and in these unusual circumstances I figured you’d feel a little more secure in my absence if I left you something that could offer you protection.”

 Your brows furrowed, still confused by his actions. “But isn’t that why Steven is staying? To protect me?”

 “Yes…,” James nods, “but he can’t be here every second.”

 “Why not?” You question, not buying his reasoning. “Natasha is here every second of every moment you’re gone. Why should Steven be any different?”

 “Because Steven has a village to care for in my leave and they trust him. He’ll come check on you periodically, but he cannot stay the entire time I’m gone.”

 This was so unlike James to offer this to you, so you know there’s more to this than he’s letting on. With a huff, you reach out and snatch the offered knife from his hand and set it in your lap. “Be careful, James. I’m not as daft as you think. This isn’t you showing you care because you and I both know you don’t. There’s something at play here… let’s hope for your sake the game ends and the pawns move as you’ve hoped.”

 James’ eyes go wide and you’re the one to smirk, the ass giving something away you believe he never intended. He recovers quickly and shakes his head. “I don’t know what you think you know, but I can assure you my intent is selfish and not about you but the child you’re carrying.”

 “Smart. Way to backtrack.” You grin and James turns to walk towards the door.

 “Don’t wait up for me.”

 “I’m missing you already.” The sarcasm is heavy on your tongue as you watch him leave, shutting the door behind him.

 Your eyes move to your lap and stare at the knife that’s taken up residence there. This is his most prized possession and something he wouldn’t just willingly leave but he did, and he changed things up. Did he think you were totally naïve? You’ve been here for three months, you’ve learned how to play this dangerous game. So, why? What’s the game and how will you come out the victor? Hmmm… what are you up to, James?

 “Princess.”

 You look up and see a tall blond muscles man standing in the doorway. Steven. Apparently, you were lost in thought and had no idea how much time had passed but here he was. The man that’s size rivaled James, but his face was softer, more trusting. If he wasn’t James’ right hand man, you’d find yourself in a position to confide in him but that wouldn’t or couldn’t be. You’d suffer in silence and keep the man at arm’s length. Nothing to be gained from becoming friends with this brute.

 “Steven. I’m still here, if that’s why you came.” Your tone is dry and without any sign of emotion.

 Steven chuckles and smiles, shutting the door and making his way into the room to stand in front of the bed. “I trust all is well?”

 “Why are you here?” You ask, not up for small talk or formalities.

 “To make sure you have everything you need, your highness.” Steven lowers his head, bowing to you like so many had before.

 It’s the first time since you’d been forced into this life that anyone has addressed you in this way and you're totally taken aback. His actions are very suspicious but there’s nothing that screams do not trust him. Hmmm… what piece of the game are you, Steven? A pawn or a knight? And how can I get you to show your weakness?

 “Drop the act and tell me why you’re here.” You grip the knife and unsheathe it, pointing the sharp blade in his direction, the man still bowing before you.

 The blond stands up and shakes his head. “Really? Is that any way to treat an ally?” Steven uses his hand to brush the blade out of his way and sits down on the edge of the bed. “I’m not James.”

 “Maybe not, but you're his best friend and I’d be a fool to trust you.” You raise the knife back up, holding it steady in his face.

 Steven’s eyes lock onto yours, and for the first time you’ve noticed just how beautiful the blue is staring back at you. “That blade isn’t meant for me, your highness. It really is to protect yourself.”

 At his words, you lower the blade and place it in your lap, still out of its sheath. “Why do I need protection?”

 Steven sighs and looks down, taking the knife and running his thumb across the blade. “Good… he sharpened it.” He puts the blade back in the holder and lays it down on the bed. “Because, your highness… you never know when someone might want to use James’ absence as an opportunity.”

 You furrowed your brows. “An opportunity for what?”

 Steven grins and leans in close, his lips brushing up against your ear. “An opportunity to bleed you dry,” he whispers, making you gasp in shock.

 “Don’t worry…,” Steven sits back with a grin on his face, “I’ll keep you as safe as I can but in the worst case the knife should be used to hold anyone off until I can come around.”

 You sit in silence as you study his words, the man still sitting across from you, watching your every move, which gratefully is nothing at this point. The knife is meant to protect until Steven comes and now it all makes sense. You were the pawn and Steven the knight. Guess it’s time to let the games begin.

 “Thank you, Steven.” You reach out and place a soft hand on his leg. “I’ll make sure to keep the knife close and I promise to scream loudly should any harm come my way.” You give him a genuine smile, something you haven’t given anyone since you came to this wretched hell.

 Steven glances down at the hand resting on his leg and then back up at you, his mouth turned up in a soft smile. “That’s all I can ask. Your safety is my priority.”

 “Again, thank you. Now, you should go…,” you remove your hand but never break eye contact, staring into those ocean blues, “...James is cruel and unforgiving and I’m not sure I could survive anymore of his wrath if he found out you were in here instead of out there preventing any tragedies.” You lay it on thick, hoping to gain a soft spot within the tall Viking.

 The blond nods in agreement and stands up from your bed. “As you wish, your highness.” And once again, bows and lowers his head for the second time since he arrived. “I’ll see you soon,” Steven says as he stands straight, the full extent of his muscular body on display.

 “Bye, Steven.” You smile bashfully at him.

 “Enjoy your day, Princess.” Steven finally makes his way to the door after several moments of stalling, opens it and exits, the large door closing behind him.

 You stare at the door waiting for him to come back but he never does. Good. Steven’s presence frazzled you a bit towards the end of his visit but for the most part you were able to understand enough of what treachery lies ahead. Whatever their plan it involved you, Steven and James’ knife.

 Oh, what a tangled web we weave, you thought, looking down at the knife at your side, the same one you tried to impale into the chest of the beast you share a bed with. The same one you’re positive he used when he slit your father’s throat with a laugh. It was now willingly given to you without so much as a fight or a peep of dissatisfaction, so maybe you should do what’s intended and protect yourself at all costs.

 Whoever is coming won’t find the same woman that was dragged here unwillingly, kicking and screaming along the way. No. They will be met with a much-changed Princess. One who’s new mission includes protecting the life growing inside you. Come hell or high water this child would not grow up with James’ influence. You’ll burn this village down to the ground before you let that monster shape and mold the child his seed fertilized.

Viking Tags:

@ellallheart @sebastianstansqueen

Forever Tags:

@jamesbarnesappreciationclub @kruscht @palaiasaurus64 @breezy1415 @sarahp879 @supernaturaldean67 @averyrogers83 @scarlettsoldier @lovely-geek @titty-teetee @geeksareunique @peaceinourtime82 @leosandbuckysgirl @the-goddess-of-mischief @mychemicalimagines @awkwardfangirl2014 @collette04 @notyourtypicalrose @onebatch--twobatch @miraclesoflove @kcd15 @xxloki81xx @death-unbecomes-you @thatfanficstuff @hotoffthepressfics @chuuulip @unlikelygalaxygiver​ @lancetuckershairgel​ @babypink224221​ @mybabe-buckybarnes​ @shield-agent78​ @the-real-kellymonster​ @caplanreads​

#dark james barnes #dark!viking bucky #Viking james barnes #viking au #james barnes #james buchanan barnes #james bucky barnes #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #james barnes x reader

[ravenforce]

Cheating Death VI

Warning/s: None

Summary: Natasha confronts you and finds out the truth. 

A/N: Now, shall end it at that? Also, stay safe. Stay home. x

Parts: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5

“No,” Carol yelled at Natasha, making the team wince except for the redhead.

“I’m not asking permission, Carol.” Natasha continued to disarm herself, pulling all her guns and knives out and on the table, making everyone confused.

“Okay but you’re not going alone,” Carol tried to reason. “I’m coming with you.”

Natasha turned to her girlfriend and sighed. “I can very well take care of myself.” She’s trying really hard not to be aggressive with the blonde but Carol’s keeping her from being where she wanted to be longer.

“I know -”

“Then let me do this alone.”

“But that woman is dangerous.” The rest of the team couldn’t do much more than just sit and watch the heated exchange.

“She’s not gonna hurt me.” Natasha sighed, quietly remembering the moment your eyes connected. Carol crossed her arms and scoffed, making the redhead look back at her.

“You don’t know that.”

“You don’t know her,” Natasha countered.

“And you do?”

“I do, Carol! She’s my other Clint!” Natasha yelled in frustration. Carol opened her mouth but Natasha was already storming out of the room. Carol looked at the team and they all shook their head.

“If Y/N Al Ghul is her other Clint, there’s no force on earth or beyond that could stop Natasha from going to her,” Wanda tried to explain. Carol hasn’t been earth-bound long enough to see who Clint was for Natasha. They were best friends, partners, and Wanda knows by the look you gave Natasha a few hours ago, that the two of you are even more than just that.

***

Talia and Nyssa are having a drink by the bar at home when one of their guards announced that someone wanted to see them. They looked at each other and sighed. The breakfast fiasco with the Avengers rendered them in the mood for day drinking.

“Let them in.” Talia’s smooth voice reverberated around the room.

“Hello.” Natasha greeted politely. Nyssa cocked an eyebrow at her sister and took a swig of her beer. “I wanted to see Y/N. Is she home?”

“State your business with our sister?” Nyssa spoke with her serious CEO voice.

They’ve never met Natasha before but you have regaled them of so many stories about how you met in Budapest, how she had the most beautiful green eyes you’ve ever seen, how you have adventured through Europe with your other friend Clint until Ra’s caught up with you. They’ve probably heard it all, even after you’ve come back to the League, Natasha was still the topic of every whispered story you shared with your sisters at dead of the night when the three of you are sure that your father has retired for the day. They’ve never met her yet they feel like they’ve known her just as long.

“I just wanted to talk. It’s been more than a decade since I -” Natasha choked back a soft sob. Thinking about how much time has passed without her knowing that you’re alive hurts her like no other.

Talia sighed, Natasha looked tired like the big revelation of the day took years out of her life. “She’s not here, Natasha.”

Natasha bowed her head and was about to apologize for disturbing their time, again, when Nyssa spoke. “But if you know our sister, you’ll know where to find her.”

She looks back at the brunette and nod. “Thank you.”

***

“We’re being followed,” Natasha whispered as the two of you continued to walk hand-in-hand after just spending your first-anniversary dinner at one of your favourite restaurants in Scotland.

It’s been over a year since you two have me in Budapest. Your friend Clint called you for help on a mission, which you easily agreed to, to be away from your father for a while. The mission should have been simple enough for two highly skilled assassins like Osiris and Ronin but no one told you that you’ll have to put down the highly dangerous KGB agent Natasha Romanova. 

You didn’t know what possessed you to defect from your original orders but something about Natasha speaks to you even when she was doing her absolute best to kill you. Something in her eyes tells you she wanted the same thing you wanted most in life; freedom. You remembered it too well, the look on Clint’s face when you finally pinned down Natasha on the ground but instead of delivering the final blow, you offered her an out.

You remember the way she looked at you too like you just grew two heads. You told her about your predicament with your father, and how you wanted a life out of the league. Natasha was skeptical but she wanted nothing more but to get away from the path she’s on. That night the three of you decided you will be the masters of your own fate, and boarded the first train out of Budapest. 

Currently, you were living in Scotland but you will be moving again soon as to avoid being tracked for staying in one place for too long. The three of you didn’t mind, thinking of the situation as an opportunity to see the world rather than sulk about being fugitives from your own pasts and families. 

You shook your head lightly to bring yourself back to the present. You knew this day would come. You knew your time with Natasha is numbered. So you had put up a plan with Clint to ensure Nat’s gonna survive. 

“Y/N, where are we going?” She asked when you pulled her in the opposite direction of your apartment. You two are almost jogging on the side of the street for five minutes when Natasha recognized the route.

“Why are we going to Clint’s?” She sounded confuse and a little bit scared. You wanted nothing more but to stop, pull her in a hug, and assure her that everything will be alright but you don’t have enough time.

You nearly kicked the front door to Clint’s building off the hinges in your haste to get inside. Clint opened his door after three frantic knocks. 

“What the fuck is happening?” He asked confused after you went directly to his room without so much as a greeting.

“We were being followed,” Natasha answered while retrieving her guns that she taped under his furniture. 

When you walked back inside the living room, Natasha was baffled when you handed her and Clint a backpack. Clint shouldered his immediately. 

“Wait -” Natasha started to say. 

“You remember the plan?” Clint nodded. 

“What plan?” She yelled making you and Clint turn to her. Clint took her arm lightly and tried to manoeuvre her towards the front door.

“No!” She yelled and yanked her arm from Clint’s hold and run back to you. You easily caught her in a tight embrace. “I’m not going anywhere without you.” 

You sucked in a deep breath to keep yourself from changing your mind, and backing out of your own damn plan. “It’s -” you chocked down a sob. “It’s only temporary.” You pulled back to look at your girlfriend’s face. “I will find you, I promise.” 

A hollow laugh sounded behind the closed door. A laugh you’re so familiar with, you subconsciously pushed Natasha behind you. Then the door burst open, revealing your father’s smiling face. 

“Y/N Al Ghul, what did I tell you about making promises you cannot keep?” He stopped at the threshold, Clint moved sideways to help shield Natasha too. 

“I never broke a promise before, father.” You spat out. Ra’s just shrugged since he doesn’t really care. “Let them go.” 

Ra’s laughed before pinning you with a look like he’s trying to search something within you. “Okay,” he said simply. 

“Okay?” Clint whispered confuse but you didn’t pay him any mind. 

“Give me your word. No harm is to come to them.” 

“Give me your word that you will be the heir to my throne, and I will make sure that these two puny humans you so care about will be unharmed and even be put under the protection of the league.” 

You stared at your father for a minute as you mull the situation over. You can feel Natasha tugging at the ends of your shirt from behind. “I give you my word,” you said softly. Your father grinned so hard, Clint wondered how his face hasn’t split in half. 

“Very well.” You father stepped aside to let Natasha and Clint passage. 

You looked at Clint before the guy was practically dragging Natasha to the door. You didn’t dare look away from your father. You know him too well to trust his words. You know that it can’t be that easy. True to his nature, you watched in slow motion as he pulled out his dagger from under his tunic, and right when Natasha has her back on your father, he made a move to stab her. You teleported yourself behind Natasha, catching your father’s dagger between your chest cavity.

Natasha gasped and yelled. Her knees buckled as she watches you bleed out. She tried to come back to you but Clint stopped her by wrapping his arms around her torso.

You caught Clint’s eyes. “Run,” you mouthed and Clint carried Natasha out of his own building.

***

Finding you wasn’t as hard as Natasha thought it would be. You’ve always had the affinity towards the altitude. So, it was no surprise to Natasha when she found you on the top floor of the Empire State Building, legs dangling on the side of the building. She didn’t announce herself, she knew you well enough to know that you know she was there. She just stood there quietly watching your back for a minute, trying to figure out what she’s feeling exactly.

She missed you. If there was a God, and if Natasha believed in Him, He would know that Natasha has missed you for the last decade that she hasn’t seen you. She misses you so much but she’s also confused. She thought you were dead for a decade but there you are, in front of her, alive and well. She’s getting frustrated and angry too.

“Hey, Tasha. Long time, no see.” She can hear the teasing in your voice but this time, she can’t think it’s cute and funny. Your smile dropped when you heard her grit her teeth.

“I thought you were dead.”

You frowned at the New York City skyline. “I was,” you answered simply. Natasha knew you weren’t exactly human by your ungodly ability in combat, and ability to heal quickly but she didn’t know you were almost immortal. She didn’t know about the Lazarus pit, as well. So, you started your brief explanation with that.

“Why didn’t you find me then?” You can hear the hurt in her voice, as clear as a summer sky. “You broke your promise.”

You gripped the ledge of the Empire State Building too tight, your knuckles turned white. “I did not.”

“Liar,” she spat out.

“I found you, multiple times.” It was your turn to grit your teeth in an attempt to reign in your rising anger. “But it wasn’t the right time.”

She was about to call you out on your bullshit but you turned around and faced her. “The first time I found you, you were with Bruce at Clint’s ranch house.” You crinkled your nose at the memory of her looking so beautiful and soft that morning, wearing a robe, and standing toe-to-toe with Bruce Banner. By the look on her face, you know that she remembers the day too.

“That’s not -” she tried to defend herself but you cut her off. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

You chuckled mirthlessly. “I had a plan. Until it was finished, it wasn’t the right time.”

“Is it done?” Natasha couldn’t hide the hope in her voice even if she tries. “Is that why you’re back now?”

You only stared at her for a minute. You wish so bad that you could cross the small distance and kiss her senseless but you had to remind yourself that she’s dating someone else. “It has been done. It took a while to be strong enough to kill my father but it is done.”

“You what?”

“I killed my father, and disbanded the league to ensure no one will ever stand in the way of us ever again.” You frowned deeper. In the end, you have lost her to Captain Marvel anyway. “I killed my father to keep you safe and imagine my anger when I found out you came to fucking space and sacrificed yourself for mankind.”

Even with only the city lights illuminating your face, Natasha knows you’re about to cry. So, she finally closed the distance and pulled you in her arms. And try as you might, your body couldn’t stop itself from melting in her arms after not being home for so long.

“I’m here now,” she tried to comfort you.

“Of course you are.”

Natasha pulled back a little to look at you closely. “You didn’t come to Vormir, did you?”

You rolled your teary eyes at her like she should know the answer to that. “I can live in a world where you’re not in love with me but not in a world without you in it.”

Natasha wiped your tear-stained face. “I was never in love with someone else.”

#drabble #mini series #avengers imagine #natasha romanoff x reader #black widow x reader #scarlett johansson x reader #natasha romanoff imagine #black widow imagine #scarlett johansson imagine #cheating death series #cheating death #raven writes

[vanchlo]

Magic Moment

Hello! I could NOT resist writing another blurb about boyfriend!harry for my lovely friend, @bfharry‘s BOYFRIENDATHON after I got this idea! I’ve always loved baseball myself and playing lots of catch at work recently inspired this, as well as falling in love with Queen ;) Enjoy  some fluff about playing catch with boyfriend!harry at your childhood home c:

*

Warnings: None

Word Count: 2.4k words

Pairing: Harry x Reader

Music Inspo: This Magic Moment by Ben E. King and The Drifters (click to listen and yes Sandlot *wink*) 

*

“Follow your heart, kid, and you can never go wrong.”

- The Sandlot

“Come on, it wasn’t that bad,” you jest, giggling nervously. The screen door closes with a loud whap! behind the both of you.

“Ya, maybe it wasn’t fer you,” he sighs in a whisper, stuffing his hands into his pockets. His high-top white converses slap! down the wooden stairs quickly. “I think I need anotha beer afta that.”

“Follow me.”

A humid heat hits you in the face when you open the scarlet-colored door to the garage. The familiar smell welcomes you, and so do the sights of your father’s tools hanging up on the walls. The lawn mower still sits in the same spot, his pair of old glasses remain perched on the windowsill, and the tiny mini fridge in the corner awaits your call.

“Thanks,” he mumbles after taking a long pull from the refreshing beer. You opt for a Whiskey-Coke, instead, the carbonation sending shooting stars across your tongue. You watch him wipe away the bead of sweat running down his forehead, and then the subsequent smile that drills the dimples into his cheeks. “Bloody hell, if that isn’t tha cutest thing ‘ve eva seen.”

A questioning ‘what’ barely passes your lips once you spot the miniature lilac colored baseball glove on a shelf. Next, a laugh falls from your lips and he echoes it with his own adorable concoction. 

“Hard t’ believe yer hand was eva that tiny, love.”

“I know, it’s funny that my dad kept it around.”

“I would if I were him, ‘s bloody adorable,” he notes, picking up the battered leather mitt with a content smile. “Ah, lookie here. Up fer a game o’ catch, love? Bet I could whoop yer ass.”

“Harry, you can’t beat somebody in catch!” you protest, the cool liquid gracing your lips, providing you a few seconds of relief from the summer heat. 

“We’ll just see ‘bout that, now won’t we?” he teases with a wiggle of his eyebrows. A tan, leather baseball glove hits you square in the chest, landing in your arms while he slips on a darker twin of it. “C’mon, I wanna see how girly of a throw ya got.”

“Oh, shut up. You have no idea what’s coming for you. You’re dating a former softball player here.”

“Am I now? Ya don’t seem that intimidatin’ t’ me, miss,” Harry laughs softly, the billowy cotton of his red Hawaiian themed shirt catching the wind once your feet find the grass. “Dunno how anythin’ can be intimidatin’ afta meetin’ yer bleedin’ father, tho’. Bloody hell,” he remarks, shaking his head. 

“It really wasn’t that bad, Harry,” you correct him, placing your tall can beside his dark glass bottle. 

“It was. Didn’t know he’d be so fookin’ hard on me, askin’ all o’ those questions. He never even smiled at me once, babe,” he scoffs, sliding the glove onto his large hand and messing around with it until it’s comfortable enough. 

“Yes, he did.”

“No, he didn’t. Or I didn’t see it. Dunno why he was so cold t’ me. Ya’ve always had such good things t’ say ‘bout growin’ up with him . . ,” he exhales, tossing the ancient brown and red baseball into the mitt. His short curls dance around atop his head as he crosses the large backyard, the very same one you played kickball in, where you hit home run balls into the woods, set cartwheel records in, and still have the pieces of wood set into the ground marking the bases. 

“He’s quiet, Harry, that’s all. You just have to find something in common with him, and then you’ll hit it off. I promise you, he liked you.”

“Don’t believe ya there, he was givin' me tha evil eye tha whole time durin’ dinna, even tho’ I was fakin’ likin’ his burgers. They were dry as hell,” he grumbles, soon coming to a stop a good way across the grassy area. Messing with his light-washed denim shorts, he checks his phone before letting it fall back into one of its pockets. “Reckon ‘s cuz yer his li’l girl, loads mo’ protective o’ you cuzz’a that.” 

“Keep going, I’m not a sissy.”

“Oh, so I should go long, ‘s that right? Dunno if ya can make it t’ me if I go back any farther,” he winks, the dimples set into his cheeks all the way from here, you notice.

“Would you hush? I pitched all throughout high school, I can make your hand hurt from catching it, if you keep running your mouth,” you argue. 

“Oooooo, she’s gettin’ feisty now,” he chuckles, raising his voice to carry across the clipped green grass, tall trees framing the yard. He pats his taut fist into the palm of the glove, the baseball snug in his large hand. Why, of course it is, Mr. Huge Hands.

Seconds later, the ball soars through the air and banks to the left, but with a jump, you catch it just in time. 

“What the hell was that?” you laugh, holding up your hands. 

“Erm, ‘m warmin’ up? Y’know, gotta get the old righty back in ‘s place,” he insists, stretching his dominant arm this way and that, ever so dramatically. 

“Whatever. You’re full of shit, Harry,” you call back, adding extra volume to your voice. His bottom lip escapes to between his teeth while his head goes from side to side. You surprise him with your throw and he misses it, pulling a loud laugh from your lips. “Not so confident, are we now?”

“Shuddup! Ya were a bloody softball player, ya got advantage ova me, ‘s not fair.”

“Don’t you start whining now! You’re the one who wanted to play catch with a five time-.”

“Ya ya, we get tha point, babe. Yer a bloody star when it comes t’ softball. I know, I know. Wish I coulda seen ya play, woulda been fun. Ya should join a summer league, they sound like a hoot,” he comments, locating the ball at last back in the woods and landing it in your glove. 

“And I played with my brother all of the time, and he was M.V.P two years in a row on his high school baseball team.”

“Good fer him, maybe he should be out here playin’ with you, instead,” Harry says when your throw to him sails over his head. “God, can ya control that arm o’ yers fer once?”

“Sorry!” you laugh, knowing that he doesn’t believe it for a second. 

“Sure ya are.” 

The ball arrives in your mitt with a pleasing whap! and your hand settles over it. Brushing your fingers along the coarse stitches, the shocks of green grass stains on the leather welcome you back to your childhood, tossing around this very same ball with your older brother and father. The nostalgia brings your hand to your pocket, and your fingers soon tap the screen of your phone. 

“C’mon, slow poke! What’re ya waitin’ fer? ‘Fraid ‘ll beat ya afta all?” Harry quips from across the yard, nearing you to retrieve his beer that he sips from. With a pleased ‘ahhhh,’ he sets it down on the gray cinder blocks of the nearby fire pit after walking back, placing enough space between him and it so he doesn’t run into it. 

Sliding your phone back into your pocket, music soon pours from the large bluetooth speaker in between you against the garage. 

“‘s this just fantasy? Caught inn’a landslide, no escape from realityyyyyy. Open yer eyes, look up t’ tha skies, and seeeeee,” Harry sings loudly, pumping his arms down at his sides and closing his eyes adamantly. “‘m just a poor boy, I need no sympathy. Because ‘m easy come, easy go, li’l high, li’l low.” 

“Any way the wind blows, doesn’t really matter to meeeeee,” you sing back, savoring the large smile painting his face as he catches your throw with ease. 

“Toooo meeee,” he sings back. “Mamaaaaaa just killed a man, put a gun against his head. Pulled my trigger, now’s he dead. Mamaaaaa, life had just begunnnn. But now ‘ve gone and thrown it all awayyyyy,” he sings to the baby blue skies dotted with clouds, adamantly strumming an invisible guitar. He echoes your laugh that flies between the two of you, joining the robins and starlings flitting between the trees. “Knew I picked a good one, she’s got a good arm and a bloody good taste in music. Ya betta play Take On Me next, or all bets are off.”

“Oh, you know that I will. It feels like an eighties night, playing catch in the backyard during the summer. It’s just like when I was little,” you note aloud, jogging to the right to catch his next throw until it falls into your glove. 

“‘Bout tha same fer me, just with footy, think this ‘s how ‘d like t’ spend my summers still . . I loved it so much, playin’ in tha backyard listenin’ t’ tha radio, and think my kids would too,” he says casually, sparking a blush in your cheeks at the mention of him as a father. Oh, what you would do to be able to see him playing catch with a little dark-haired boy or girl who calls him ‘Daddy.’ 

Fuck me, you think hastily. 

Quickly, your shared favorite part of the song comes and he imitates the guitar shredding while you repeatedly toss the ball into your mitt, watching him. 

“But eva since I watched Wayne’s World as a kid, I can’t avoid bangin’ my head when it gets t’ this part,” Harry chuckles, tossing a pop fly towards the overhang of tree branches. “I love tha trees here, ya know, ‘ve neva seen so many.” 

“Me too, I love that part in the movie, and I love them too. It’s crazy to think how long they’ve been around to get this big. Some of them were as tall as I am now when I was little.”

“Huh,” he hums curiously, shooting into the air to grab a high one you tried to trick him with. Your eyes can’t help but wander to his dark fern tattoos that peek out when his shirt rises. “Ya think I should keep it still, or get rid o’ it?” Harry poses to you, puckering his lips at you with a mischievous grin. 

“You almost remind me of Freddie Mercury with that ‘stache,” you say, the laugh growing from somewhere deep inside of you. He shrugs his shoulders and tosses a fast one back to you, hitting your glove square in the center with a heavy slap! 

“Dunno why ya think that’s such a good joke, ‘s a damn compliment, if ya ask me.” 

“Uh oh, are we getting a big head over there because you’ve caught my last three throws?” you joke, watching the ball soar high into the air amongst the green covering of the trees. 

“Hey, be easy on me,” he pouts, his words disagreeing with his actions that send a hot fastball into your palm. 

“Why? You’re never easy on me when we play Mario Kart or Cribbage.” 

“Hey! You don’t have a bleedin’ nearly professional career in any o’ those!” he protests and then curses when your curveball nicks the tip of his glove. 

“So, and neither do you, and you’re still aggressive as fuck when we play them! Huh, what’s your excuse, Harry?” 

“Galileo!” he calls out. 

“Galileo!” you echo, and the rest follow suit between the two of you as the song plays. 

“‘m just a poor boyyyyy, nobody loves me,” he sings loudly, causing you to cough on your drink that you take a swig from. 

“Keep telling yourself that,” you shoot back, setting down the wet can as he approaches you. 

“But I am,” he whines, pushing out his bottom lip that you flick with your finger. 

“Watch it!” 

“Or what?” you counter, savoring the annoyed expression that soon fills his features. There’s just something about pushing his buttons that gets you going, even though you know that you shouldn’t do it. 

“Or else I won’t bloody learn tha rest o’ Blackbird on guitar fer you,” he retorts playfully, taking a long pull from his bottle. 

Now, it’s your turn to shout ‘hey!’ until he scoops you into his arms, your surprised shriek piercing the sky. 

“You better finish learning it! But, I think that I like Freddie better.”

“How? Paul ‘s far betta. ‘ll always love Queen, and The Beatles don’t have anythin’ on Bohemian Rhapsody, but Paul ‘s tha betta musician. Trust me, I should know,” he disagrees, pecking your temple before pulling away and tossing the ball into your waiting glove. 

“But, Freddie had a four octave range.”

“And? So does Paul,” Harry shrugs, raising his left arm in the air to snag your fastpitch that he almost loses. “Paul McCartney ‘s tha superior musician, just trust me on this.” 

“Paul McCartney has nothing on Freddie Mercury,” a voice pipes up, turning the both of your heads to the right where you find your dad stepping out of the garage with a weathered black baseball glove snug upon his right hand. 

You swear that you could hear Harry’s apprehensive gulp from all of the way over here, and when you look, you find his adam’s apple bobbing in his throat. 

“But Paul was betta on guitar, bass, and drums,” Harry argues, nervously tossing the ball into his glove repeatedly. 

Your dad closes the door behind him softly, and steps out on the grass, adjusting his glasses. Surprise is absent from your range of emotions when your dad shrugs his shoulders, but you’re sure that it coats Harry’s insides in the next few moments. 

“You’re right there, I like somebody who can stand up for their argument,” he comments, nodding a head towards Harry who out of the corner of your eye is smiling, just the slightest. “I think I might like this one,” he says to you, holding out his glove towards Harry, with his lips curling into his cheeks. 

The smile on your boyfriend’s face almost matches that of your father’s, but he’s got nothing on the grin plastered across Harry’s face because of your next words. 

“I think I do, too, Dad.”

#boyfriendathon #bfharry #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles blurb #harry styles oneshot #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x your name #your name #y/n #reader #blurb #oneshot #wattpad #fanfiction #harry styles wattpad #fanfic #writing #keep #narrymccartney writes

[angeliccynthious]

h a h look at the thing I did- All the vessels + Grimmchild,, and I’ll be sort of... talking about them further below. Wowie finally using this feature-- Basically its me recapping them as characters and how they are in the AU. This is going to be a long read god I’m so sorry :<

Ghost- Ghost is the energetic one of the vessels. They just do whatever they want, they literally often do not care a lot about what they do. Ghost likes helping others, because they just wanna fix a lot of things. They like making friends, and just-- having fun. Who wouldn’t? There are rare times Ghost gets mad, and when they do- they go big Shade Lord mode. In conclusion Ghost is just a very.. chaotic.. fun-loving-- andd-- helpful baby. We love them. - But onto how they appear once more- Basically, since this AU is a mix of both the dream no more ending and as well as the embrace the void ending,, this basically has Ghost go full on shade lord in their fight with Radi. They disappear afterwards, only leaving their shell behind. They are presumed to be dead by Hornet. As described quite a bit ago (when I first talked about this AU), Ghost is just.. verryyyy angry as the Shade Lord. They finally appear in Dirtmouth, lashing out and just being a ng y. They try to attack Hornet, but no, Hollow stops them-- fighting them off even in their weak form. Eventually they are given time to run back into the home they and Hornet have been staying in to retrieve Ghosts shell. Why do they retrieve Ghosts shell? Well, because they are aware that  Shade Lord = Ghost. They just carefully lay their shell on the ground and sort of.. apologize. They do this by speaking to Ghost through void, void beings can do that right? Surely. Though eventually, Ghost calms down and accepts their shell, fitting their big Shade Lord form into their tiny shell. Then going to their siblings to... hug them.. strangely enough. Hollow would of course hug them back. Anddd-- thats that. Another thing that Ghost does is revive PK, Radi, and even get NKG up in the real world too. One more is that they too ‘revive’ their siblings Clematis (aka the Greenpath Vessel) and Beryl (Lost Kin/Broken Vessel) by getting Mask Maker to fix their shells and then they just yeeted them into the Abyss. After a moment, they go and retrieve them, and bring them to their parents so they can deal with them then. They too sort of helped Godseeker get out of the Junk Pit, because who wants to live in garbage? They do a lot of stuff. They are happy to help. Grimmchild- Ah yes, my favorite. Grimmchild in general is.. less.. childish than she was, of course she’d be less childish- She’s an adult. She has more sense than she used to, she’s much smarter, though still retains those silly aspects of hers. She’s rather protective, over Ghost mostly, and usually is always with and around them. best friends for life. She’s the one who generally calms Ghost down when they get angry. - Alrighty, so-- After Ghost presumably had died, Grimmchild was very sad, quite sad. She usually sought out Hornet or Hollow for comfort, but generally it was Hollow who’d give her pats and let her lay on their head. Hornet on the other hand, was quite busy,, doing Hornet things of course :> When Ghost returned, and was brought back to the house- oh-- what did Grimmchild do? Well, she literally tackled them to the ground in a hug (the way this bat lookin child hugs) because ‘oh my god, best friend is back, hi friend, you okay friend?’ and so on, just really happy to see them. And truly-- truly-- ever since then you can never see these two apart. How Lovely. Grimmchild has a good enough relationship with her ‘aunt’ Radi, generally it started off.. not that well but as time passed Radi decided to tolerate her (and Ghost) enough to actually be nice. Grimmchild usually seeks out Radi for advice and so on, some of the rare times that she’s away from Ghost. But when Ghost does allow her dear ol dad to actually exist in the real world (with their ultimate goddamn shade lord powers.. pff..), she’s very happy, very appreciative. Then theres the dilemma of her taking on the name ‘Grimm’ and her fathers name too basically being Grimm. She just calls him dad but usually they get confused on which Grimm someone is calling for. Silly. Clematis- Okie dokie, third one! and its the precious short baby, Clematis. Aka of course.. the Greenpath vessel. Clematis is a very meek fellow, and they generally like and appreciate being alone. They do sometimes like company, but peace and quiet is better than that. It’s quite obvious here, Clematis is not very social. They are not very skilled at socializing but a certain someone is gonna help em. - As stated before, yeah, Clematis gets basically revived alongside Beryl and given to PK and WL so they can properly take care of their goddamn kids. Even then, Clematis often hid in places that gave them such peace and quiet that they’d fall asleep there. It’d take a long while to find them. They are somewhat close with their mother, since she’d often take them to garden with her when they weren’t hiding. They formed a somewhat bond with Beryl, but Beryl eventually pushed them away because of how damn mean they are. Bad Beryl. Later in life, when Clematis is an.. adult? sure, they’ve reached their own prime form. Very short though for a vessel. By then, they are living alone in Greenpath. Somehow someway, they come to befriend the oh so lovely Lace, who’s just been seeking out someone who does not absolutely dislike her. The two become friends, and she just comes by often to have this one person who understands where she’s coming from. Both were very lonely, now they besties. And now, a fun fact, those flowers decorated them and their moss collar are clematis flowers. They generally are quite pretty. And oh-- Clematis likes to grow flowers as they did back in Queens Gardens with their mama. Beryl- Beryl! I love them, but god are they mean. As said, Beryl is.. quite mean,, quite stubborn. They feel as if they don’t need anyone, just preferring to do things their way. They don’t really like their family at all, and show it by once more- being a big ol bitch. Strangely enough though, the only person in their family they aren’t..really...that mean to-- is Lil Lady. Their littlest sister. They actually are nicer to her, one of the only moments they are gentle and nice are when they interacted with her. Sometimes, they are actually nicer to other people as well. That rarely happens though. - Yada yada- even when they are being taken care of by their parents they dislike them. PK is a bit distant as always, WL tries to give them love but they say no. They don’t want anything from these people. Since they already did grow a bit beforehand, they are the first out of the two revived siblings to reach their prime form. They once were nicer to Clematis, now the two barely interact. It’s kinda sad. (It’s not fully Beryl’s fault, Clematis just barely interacts with people anymore) During this time, a young Lil Lady gave them the ‘necklace’ that they still do wear to this day. They are sometimes teased for it. (Their little sister made it for them, don’t j ud g e) Beryl generally likes fighting, its very fun for them. So when Hornet asked them if they would like to be one of her knights, they ‘happily’ obliged. Then being one of her knights, they are constantly told off by Hollow, who’s one of her other knights because they don’t like to listen to orders. And they often get into little fights with Lace, who too is a knight of Hornets, because oh my lets step on the shortest one who you never agree with. Either way, Beryl isn’t totally terrible- but they never planned on listening to their parents when they tried to teach them to do better. Even though they are a bitch, their fellow knights (and family) will come to their aid if they need it. Hollow- FINALLY- the last one. Oh my god...I’m mostly taking this from the recent post I did about Hollow and their own reference. Hehe. Hollow is a very gentle vessel, and too is protective, mostly over their family. They have a deep care for those who they are related to, of course of course. They too hold deep respect for their parents, and for the most part, is somewhat ‘closer’ to PK, due to the fact he was the one who mostly.. raised them back then. They still are close with their mother of course. They are very friendly, but not as friendly as Ghost. More reserved?? sure. They are the one who usually keeps their fellow knights in check. - It all starts off with Hornet finding them strangely alive after the black egg is no more, and her helping them get to Dirtmouth and-- get patched up. After quite a while of recovery, the whole big shade lord thing happens-- and-- Hollow sees it fit to apologize to Ghost for everything, for leaving them to fall back into the Abyss. They are happy that Ghost accepts their apology and literally carries them back into the house. How cute. Afterwards, Hornet decides to finally take these two to see the White Lady. Oh at last, Hollow gets to face their mother. And so, they do. The moment is... quite emotional for the poor bean. They feel so guilty, that they weren’t truly empty, and WL reassures them with the notion that it was not them who failed their parents, it was their parents who failed them. She’s going to actually try to be a proper mother.. huh.. finally. And so, Hornet leaves Hollow with WL, Ghost coming along with her because they too feel as if those two deserve some time to fix things a bit. Ah, and once more-- a bit of a timeskip. Hollow has been living quite well with their mother, with her having unbound herself and gaining some of her sight back, enough that she is able to walk around without bumping into anything lmao. They get along quite well. When Ghost brings PK around, and Hornet finally drags him to Queens Gardens-- another emotional moment for Hollow. They go and embrace their father and wont let go until he asks them too..they’re just too damn happy to see him, though there is still that guilt of them failing him. PK himself is guilty. Then from that, and PK’s reunion with WL, they live.. quite happily, quite comfortably, and Hollow accepts their two siblings whenever Ghost is to bring them around. They are generally pleasant to their smaller sibs. But oh,, when their newest sibling finally arrives- Lil Lady- OH GOD- are they a loving big big sibling. They sort of,, cared for her a lot, and whenever PK and WL needed a break? They were there. Of course, they are a good influence on her, and Beryl is the bad influence. Though in general they have spent much more time with their little sister than Beryl has. Soon enough, when Hornet finally ascends to the throne, Hollow too is requested to be one of her knights, and of course they’d accept. This is their sister here. Whenever she is to need help, they help, and whenever their fellow knights need help, they are there. They feel useful like this, and Hornet does greatly appreciate their company and how they can easily split up Lace and Beryl from their constant fights. They’re truly an older sibling, scolding those two. And lastly, the whole Radi thing. I did explain this in that post about Hollow- but I’ll say it here too. Hollow wanted closure for everything, so they’ve gone and forgiven most people who have.. hurt them? yeah. This includes Radi. Radi doesn’t really want to be forgiven, she knows she did horrible things, and she isn’t the most guilty about them. But either way, they forgive her, and they somewhat become.. acquaintances?? friends?? They don’t really know. She’s just not as mean as she was to them before.. OH GOD- AND IM DONE AAAAAAAA This is a whole mess I tried my be s t whoever has read this whole thing, I thank you for reading my bullshit.

#art stuff #au stuff #au references #hollow knight #hollow knight art #fanart #ghost #little ghost #the knight #grimmchild #greenpath vessel #broken vessel #lost kin #pure vessel #the hollow knight #my fingers h u r t #also if this is not written very.. well... I apologize this is just how I write about stuff in general #just to 'spice' it up #hopefully this is not confusing too #im gonna make more of these going in sorta.. depth of these characters within the au