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celestialarchon · 3 years

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The Celestial Archon

Chapter Two: The Moonlight Phenomenon

Genshin Impact x F! Reader

Warnings: major Genshin Impact Spoilers! Possible grammar errors.

Tag list: To Be Added. (sorry it needed to be published!)

With the return of a mysterious archon, celebrations began! The night was filled with laughter, food, and memories being made. One person was amiss during the celebration, Mona still found herself unsettled and unable to be as excited as the others. An eerie feeling of unrest and anxiety has settled over our esteemed astrologist as our beloved heroes celebrate.

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“I’ve finally found you,” Mona’s intense astrology session was interrupted by a cheery high pitched voice.

“Hello, Seraphim.” Mona turned to greet the beautiful woman.

She nearly gasped as the woman walked in, her hair now styled and her eyes shining brighter than before, the mysterious tattoos seemed to have faded and though she was still striking she looked far more human than before. The Celestial Archon merely smiled at the woman’s surprise and stepped towards her, hand out.

“We should talk, my child. Fate had brought us together, an astrologist with a water vision instead of a celestial vision is strange enough.” The woman was calm but not cold as Mona took her hand.

Mona was warm as the gentle archon interlocked their fingers and led her to the corner of the room, sinking down into a comfy chair and pointing at the one next to her. Disappointment creeped up in the astrologist as her idol released her hand. It was quickly replaced with embarrassment and a soft flush across her cheeks. Mona was wholeheartedly captured by the mystery goddess.

“I’m sure you’re aware,” The bright eyes goddess sighed, “That my arrival in Teyvat has stirred up some trouble.”

Mona frowned slightly, “There was already trouble, your sudden appearance is not the cause of it.”

“That’s good, but I still feel that my presence is going to stir the pot a bit. I am connected to all the stars and spaces of this world, I can feel and see things so deeply and I am well aware that there are challenges coming. It’s annoying in some ways.” Her eyes were distant again.

Words were lost on Mona for a moment. She couldn’t begin to imagine how stressful it was to feel so deeply, to constantly be overwhelmed by information and one’s connection to the world. Every piece of text written about the Celestial Archon was very vague. Information on the god of stars was hard to find and many details had been lost, yet one thing seemed to stay the same in ever piece of information Mona had consumed.

Even when the world was teeming with elemental energy and gods were far more common, the goddess of the sky, Seraphim, was an oddity. Before the Archon war, Seraphim was a lone wolf being without many ties. The last god of stars kept to herself and had no desire to interfere with the other’s problems, despite knowing so much of them. It was incredibly lonely and sad.

“You said it’s strange that I have a water vision,” Mona finally spoke.

“Yes,” The archon clicked her tongue, “Had I been around, somebody like you would’ve received a vision from me. However, you did not receive one of my visions and ultimately that should’ve impacted your abilities over astrology but it did not. You are quite the gifted character, aren’t you Miss Mona?”

Mona’s face was tomato red at the words of the beloved celestial archon, “I am honored to be complimented by the goddess of stars.”

“You’re very formal,” The starry eyed goddess laughed.

“Excuse me,” the two were interrupted by none other than the acting grandmaster, “I would like a word with the Lady of the Stars.”

Mona was hesitant, not wanting her idol to slip away but nodded and escorted the woman to the door. She was a bit dissatisfied with the conversation they’d had, wanting to know more and more of her long awaited god. The woman turned back to Mona, eyes twinkling, and embraced her. The normally level headed and somewhat haughty astrologist stiffened in shock but returned the warm hug. A sigh escaped Mona’s mouth, but she didn’t mind. The goddess was warm and something about her affection put Mona at peace.

“I am so lucky that somebody as beautiful and gifted as you awaited my return, Mona Megistus. Until we meet again, my darling.” The woman’s grasp around Mona tightened as she whispered in her ear.

The water mage watched as the strange goddess gracefully glided away with Jean. She was ethereal with the moonlight filtering in from tall windows, her skin illuminated as she hung on to every word Jean said. Even the confident and ever busy acting grandmaster found butterflies swarming her abdomen at the sight of the goddess. Jean felt as if she could be swept away by the young woman.

A part of Jean felt guilty for several reasons. As acting grand master, it was her duty to know about the citizens of Mond, it was her duty to work without personal emotions interfering, and her duty to oversee the safety of all the wind borne citizens. The Celestial Archon was challenging all of these duties. It was only natural for an astrologist to be obsessed with a god of stars, and Jean had interrupted the conversation. The Dandelion Knight couldn’t help but feel an innocent sort of crush on the goddess, she was kind and beautiful and she really seemed to want to get to know everyone. Ultimately, Jean was also aware of the danger a new archon posed.

Even so, the beautiful knight couldn’t help but want to push all those thoughts aside and capture the attention of the goddess for hours. She shook off that thought, attempting to focus on her duty as Mondstat’s respected Grand Master. Jean explained the general politics of the city of freedom and the individual jobs of the knights of favonious. She even went as far as to explain the adventurer’s guild and the recent trouble with Storm Terror. The Celestial Archon hung on to every word, nodding and asking occasional questions.

Jean took the time to explain the place they were in, a place between Mondstat and Liyue, and the teleport points that marked both countries. She was diligent and had already prepared some documents for the 8th Archon, maps and other things needed in the world. Jean had even communicated with others to ensure each safe place for the archon was marked. The allied domain was the middle ground, but Mondstat welcomed the new Archon with a living place and much to do. Liyue had also prepared a small home in the city for her.

The archon stared in wonder at the map. The knights of Favonious had prepared a room for her in their own head quarters, even the esteemed Tycoon had set aside a room. Wangshuu Inn welcomed her and Liyue Harbor gave her quarters close to Rex Lapis. Small notes were written for her, both Xiao and Diluc noted the stars were best seen from where they were while the traveler and Paimon had starred their favorite places to eat.

“Ah, Master Jean.” The Goddess spoke slowly, bowing.

“Please, Seraphim, there’s no reason to be so formal!” Jean’s voice rose nervously, “You are an archon after all.”

“Yes, that’s true. You do not serve me though, please refer to me as my chosen name. Formalities aren’t my taste much.” The Archon remarked bashfully.

Jean nodded, rose dusting her cheeks.

“I,” The Archon sighed, “Really need an open space so I can, uh, deal with my weapon situation.”

“Oh, oh!” Realization hit Jean.

“Oh, I am so sorry,” Jean babbled nervously, “Here let us go out to the cliffs, it should be okay, right?”

“Mhm,” The goddess followed the knight to the exit.

Aether and Paimon were also by the exit, turning at the sound of approaching foot steps. Aether grinned and waved at the Celestial Archon, she waved back and beamed. Paimon immediately took off, throwing herself into the Archons arms as the woman giggled. Jean’s face was priceless, attempting to process how this small otherworldly creature could just tackle and archon without shame.

Aether and his companion followed the two women, curious about the weapon another archon would wield. The group made their way to the edge of the cliff, the stars seeming extra bright and the moon full. The goddess lowered herself, feet on the lush grass and put her hand forth, palm out. Swiftly, she struck the air in front of her with her pointer finger, an unfamiliar constellation connecting at each point.

“Return to your master, Destroyer of Divinity.” Her words were clear and calm.

The constellation burst into a ray of white light, Aether covered his eyes as Paimon whined. Darkness fell again and he opened his eyes, gasping at the sight in front of him. The goddess held a long weapon close to her body, above her shoulder was a large opalescent curved blade, below the hip on the opposite side, another shimmering curved blade could be seen. No weapon in Teyvat was even similar.

“I-Is is that a scythe?!” Jean sputtered.

“Aha, well yes,” The goddess blushed at their reactions, “Destroyer of Divinity is an unusual weapon, meant to slice through dimensional and spatial barriers. I didn’t mean to shock you.”

Aether stood, mouth agape, “Even its name is terrifying! What the hell?”

“Ahahaha,” the archon continued to laugh nervously, “Well, its existence is basically to bring judgement from the heavens upon those deserving so yeah it’s a bit intimidating.”

Aether nearly screamed. How could she say something so casually?

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The traveler was feeling a bit nervous, as anybody would if an Archon decided to tag along for their daily commissions. Paimon and the Celestial Archon chattered away as Aether spoke to the Katheryne in Liyue. It did not help that the three had left before the others awoke and the Celestial Archon had left a note declaring it as a “friendly date.”

The last thing Aether wanted was to piss off literally any of the adepti, the Geo Archon himself, and even Jean who had taken a very noticeable interest in the goddess. A cloud seemed to look over the blonde but Paimon didn’t notice. The eighth Archon gave the teenager a sympathetic smile and put her hand on his shoulder, attempting to ease his nerves. Only one thing could make the situation worse, and unfortunately that particular thing was heading straight towards Aether.

“Let’s run,” Aether grabbed the startled archon’s wrist and dragged her to the teleport point nearby, ignoring the calls of a certain troublesome individual.

The archon chuckled, “I didn’t know daily commissions would be so exciting!”

Aether smiled sheepishly and let go of her wrist, trying to focus on which commission to start with. He was distracted by a sudden commotion, people yelled out as a hooded figure darted past the trio. Liyue Harbor’s guards thundered after the thief, knocking the poor panicked goddess off her feet.

The eight archon shut her eyes and prepared for the impact of the fall, but was yanked back by a pair of strong arms.

“Hey, girlie. Hold still.” A charming voice said.

The goddess watched as the lanky ginger haired man moved forward and shot an arrow, narrowly missing all the guard and hitting the suspicious character in the back. Aether’s eyes were filled with shock and panic at the sight of the man. Immediately, the goddess side stepped away from her hero, on high alert.

“Now,” He turned to her beaming, “What exactly is such a beautiful young lady doing with this kiddo?”

Her starry eyes met his azure eyes, “I’m just a new adventurer from Mondstat, learning the ropes from the best.”

“Hmm?” His gaze was questioning, “Well then, I’m Childe. Number 11 of the Fatui Harbingers. We should definitely get to know each other.”

The goddess moved to Aether in a quick swift movement. Suddenly, she wanted very much to escape Liyue Harbor. The Fatui were trouble, the goddess was new to the era but even she knew that they were dangerous. It was one of the first matters addressed at her arrival. She no longer knew the Cryo Archon, and this Tsarita sounded troubling.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” an annoyed voice chimed in, averting the red head’s attention.

A shorter man with a large hat and ominous aura stood behind the tall harbinger. Aether tensed up and the goddess wrapped her arm around his shoulder. Slowly, the trio made their escape at the expense of Childe. The older harbinger was chewing the younger man out for flirting and wasting time, both harbingers bickered as the traveler and his companions fled.

“You shouldn’t be wasting time on trying to get laid you, fool.” Scaramouche scowled, still ripping into his subordinate. “Especially not that woman, even from a mile away I can tell she’s trouble. You’re a harbinger not a host, get your shit together, Tartaglia.”

Childe smirked, looking down on his superior, “So you noticed her, too. I wonder what someone like that is doing with my favorite traveler.”

“We should alert the Tsarita of that girl,” Scaramouche mumbled, avoiding the earlier comment.

“I actually agree,” Childe’s eyes narrowed, “I was hoping to see for myself what she is, but that kid stopped me of course. There’s something strange about her but I can’t quite put my finger on it. Maybe I can charm it out of her?”

Scaramouche slapped his comrades back, “Let’s go you useless fucking playboy.”

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Wangshuu Inn looked beautiful and the aroma of food was far too enticing. Aether sighed as he watched his small, chubby companion chase after the eighth archon. The woman was supposed to be divine, yet in some ways he reminded her of a puppy or a kitten. She was somewhat moody with her affections and spacey like a kitten may be, and still somehow clingy and energetic like a puppy.

Luckily for the two, Aether had a commission from Verr Goldet. The blonde tried to maintain composure as he saw a familiar dark haired yaksha speaking with the Inn Keeper, not wanting to admit he’d accidentally led the Fatui straight to the Archon. The traveler watched in fascination and amusement as Verr’s face twisted from composed to horrified when Xiao was knocked over by the goddess. The conqueror of demons merely grunted and stood back up, clutching the ethereal woman to his chest.

Xiao’s eyes were cold as they met Aether’s, clearly annoyed with the boy, but his expression softened at the yawning goddess in his arms. Once again, the traveler was overcome with curiosity at her behavior. Only moments ago the woman was bubbly and hyper, now her eyes were fluttering and she was snuggling up to one of the most dangerous beings in Teyvat. Without a word, the tattooed man spun around and carried the goddess upstairs.

“I’m here for your com-“ Aether began.

“Who was that?!” Verr Goldet burst out, “I’ve never seen Adeptus Xiao so damn agreeable. What just happened? Is this a dream?”

Paimon giggled, “He loooooves her! That person is the one we told you about before! Even Xiao can’t be in a bad mood around her, it’s amazing!”

“Oh,” Verr blushed at Paimon’s words, “She’s that person? No wonder he’s been so restless.”

“Wait, restless?” Aether questioned.

Verr Sighed and beckoned the two to a guest free area. The two followed her into a small back room, exchanging glances. The boss lady pulled out an old book and brushed the dust away. Aether and Paimon peered down at the book, puzzled by its appearance. It was a dark leather with carvings of the moon and clouds on the front.

Carefully, Verr flipped the book open and turned it to the two. Paimon shot up, shrieking. The book looked like a book you’d find in a library but was strange. Instead of ongoing text, the pages had scraps and pieces stuck on the pages with various notes scribbled around. Verr turned to the first page, placing her middle finger at the beginning text and giving Aether and expectant look. The traveler leaned down and began to read the text.

“The moonlight phenomenon: Legend of Liyue.

It is said that there was once a ruler of the stars, one who ruled over the sky as the Gods rule over our land. When tides of war overcame Liyue, Rex Lapis sought out the monarch of the sky to form a contract.

Seraphim granted Rex Lapis the moonlight phenomenon. Liyue’s skies were never to dim even on the darkest of nights, the moon and stars would remain as guides for Liyue always. It is said that this contract assisted in bringing the evil gods to their doom, the sky illuminating the way to victory for Liyue and all of Teyvat.”

Verr flipped the page as Aether exhaled trying to wrap his mind around the strange passage.

“The Contract: Seraphim and Rex Lapis.

The circumstances of the moonlight phenomenon still remain unknown. It is an ancient mystery that many still attempt to solve, what exactly did the Geo Archon barter for his people?

Nobody knows, still. However, the most common theories are that the contract has not been fulfilled or that there was no contract to begin with. Many believe that Rex Lapis and Seraphim were secret lovers, and this was Seraphim’s gift to her beloved. Others hypothesize that Seraphim’s wish was never fulfilled, as her death sealed the victory for The Seven Archons.”

Aether shuddered. People in Liyue believe that The Celestial Archon died in the Archon war? Verr flipped to a page in the middle of the book.

“Liyue’s Priestess Seraphim

It is said that a woman with eyes vast like the galaxy beyond and mysterious astrological powers once enchanted all of Liyue.

Seraphim, the last Celestial wielder was Liyue’s last hope. Though she is not honored as an archon, she is known vaguely as a priestess. The woman who captured the attention of the archon’s themselves and was adored by the Adepti. Few remain, but Liyue’s legends claim that the priestess of the stars was the lover of Rex Lapis, the lover of the Vigilant Yaksha, or the lover another adepti.

Even fewer discuss the devastation that occurred when she fell from grace. Her death was the catalyst of the only known battle between Liyue’s very own Archon, The Anemo Archon and his people, and the Adepti. A lesser known battle that almost forced both Mondstat and Liyue into Civil Wars.

When the dust settled, all that stood was the full moon. Many Adepti still honor the priestess under the moonlight by fighting evil spirits and demons.”

Aether’s eyes widened at Verr. She solemnly shook her head as the traveler’s face fell. Xiao, Ganyu, Zhongli, Venti, all of them suffered so terribly. It was confusing to the boy that every text described the Celestial Archon as deceased. His head began to hurt from the information. Verr sighed and led him back out.

“Once you finish commissions, why don’t you two stay here? I’ll prepare a room for you,” The boss was sympathetic.

Aether grimaced but nodded, leading Paimon out to finish their duties.

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Somewhere in the shadows of Wangshuu Inn crept a Fatui agent, slipping away as the traveler set out. The shadowy figure grinned at the piece of paper in their hand.

“Protected by the traveler and the Adepti. Master Childe will be interested in this,” His eyes were dark as he approached his fellow Fatui agents, “She could be very useful to us, this (Y/N).”

The suspicious shadows began to slink away, overcome with desire to inform their boss of the new information. Only a few feet away, a strange creature ducked down to avoid being seen by the agents, fidgeting.

“The angel is here!” The creature shrieked as the cult like group left it’s sight, “(Y/N) will be ours.”

#genshin impact #genshin impact xiao #genshin x reader #xiao x reader #albedo x reader #genshin impact albedo #genshin impact imagines #genshin impact smut #genshin impact zhongli #genshin liyue #Celestial Archon Series #genshin jean #master diluc #genshin kaeya #genshin childe #scaramouche x reader #genshin impact signora #genshin impact fatui

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wizkiddx · 3 years

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Blurb req- Tom and the reader on a private jet hungover? just pure fluff?

fluffy requests are well and truly open ( bcos I adored writing this ahah) and let me know what u think , I am deff not a writer so any feedback or tips would be v appreciated :))

summary: tomhollandxactress!reader - a wrap party followed by an early morning flight and a grumpy Harry, what could possibly go wrong?

warning: mentions of alcohol and sickness

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The remorse. The regret. It only made the pounding in your head even worse. Why those two 1.5 litre bottle of Bacardi had been brought out was beyond you. Why the you six of you had then decided to empty said bottle was even more of a mystery. It wasn’t like any of you had needed it, you’d all been more than ‘merry’ prior to the cheap rum and coke.

Hence the state of you, Tom and Harry as well as your manager Davey and Tom’s team of Rachel and Andrew. All having made very little effort with your appearance - joggers and hoodies all round, with you and Rachel also sporting sunglasses because you were simply smarter than the boys. Thankfully, this wasn’t a big trip that fans knew about, this was you and Tom moving location under cover - the studios didnt want anybody to know that either of you made a feature in this film, so everything was under the cover of darkness. Which to be honest you were not complaining about. However, you were complaining about the fact the flight had been scheduled to leave at 7 am the night after your wrap party though.

The two of you had just wrapped your most recent and most ambitious movie to date - hence the massive celebrations last night for just surviving and getting it done. It had been the most intense 3 months of your life, there had been times you’d cry for hours on end, times you just wanted to quit fully knowing you’d never be hired again for leaving a multimillion dollar company in the lurch.But you all, somehow, had survived. So celebrations were in order of course but perhaps not as far as you all managed last night?

Your whole convey appeared to have travelled to the airfield in absolute silence, no one particularly fancied hearing anyone else’s voice- which to be honest seemed quite fair. You’d ridden in a car with Tom and Harry, with you resting your head on Tom’s broad shoulder - which had obviously made Harry gag, rolling his eyes. Bless Harry, really he was the only reason you and Tom had got together, after getting sick of the mutual pining he’d been forced to live with during the previous 2 projects you’d worked on together. But now, having had to put up with the two of you being so ridiculously loved up for the past 3 months - understandably a bit of distance from you and his brother was overdue.

One of the flight attendants busied themselves loading your luggage, whilst the pilot asked you and Tom for a photo. Of course, you weren’t going to say no however you did have to cringe at how rough you both looked. His teenage daughter certainly would be less excited to see that her Dad hadn’t met Tom Holland and Y/n Y/l/n. Instead he’d met the zombified, undead and rougher frauds. Still you smiled as much as you could, wincing when you removed the glasses and the early morning sun pierced your restricted pupils. God it wasn’t your day.

The guy didn’t seem to mind though, excitedly hurrying off onto the plane to settle in the rest of you - leaving just you and Tom outside on the tarmac.

“Poor guy, we look like shit.” You murmured while taking a step closer to lean slightly into his side.

“Speak for yourself love.’Tom snickered into the top of your head, after pulling you completely into his chest. This wasn’t normally allowed, your relationship still wasn’t public and both of you intended on keeping it private for as long as possible. But you were in an otherwise empty field in the middle of nowhere (somewhere in Georgia) before 8 am. It was actually quite nice to feel your boyfriends arms round you in the outside world, especially when you felt this shit. After a few moments you pulled away, arching back at Tom’s pouty face as you motioned it was time to get on the plane.

“’S too late you know.” Your brows furrowed at his half formed sentence, facial expression only demanding him to explain more. “They all have already taken the good seats… Harry basically sprinted on so he can hog the bed thing.” In response it was your turn to pout, groaning as you fell back into his chest again. Yes, this was a complete first world issue, a private jet paid completely by your bosses was not something a lot would moan about. Truly you were grateful for everything you had in life, but with the worst hangover of your life when the opportunity of lying down for 6 hours instead of being stuck in a chair had manifested itself… well of course you felt robbed by your almost brother Harry.

Chuckling at your reaction, he gave you an extra squeeze before leading the both of you up the stairs to the cabin. Sure enough Harry had completely and totally claimed the longer couch at the far end of the plane, lying on his stomach with his face hidden in the crook of his elbow. Rolling your eyes at the predictable situation, you didn’t miss Davey laughing at your sorry state - nmaking you throw daggers at him in your eyes.

Davey was your second father, the relationship between the two of you far transcended any professional working one. Which is why the two of you acting like this was very much a norm and not rude at all. He had also got the next best seat in the corner with the most leg room which he clearly loved to show off.

Unsurprisingly then you and Tom ended up squashed into the corner with your legs crumpled up together in the small space floor space. The brunette opposite you didn’t seem to mind so much but that was because he had an adaptational advantage. He could sleep anywhere and everywhere , whenever he wanted. On set if he was tired? Just take a ten minute power nap on the floor. Bored of a long car journey? Just conk out against the window. It absolutely infuriated you, as no matter how hard and how exhausted you were - it was rare you could get any further than a light doze. Even before the two go you got together, having a best mate that could skip all the boring bits and was immune to jet lag… you can see how that makes you want to punch him square in the face.

After a short safety talk from the pilot and flight attendant, the plane whirred into life and you were up in the air. Although in your current state, it would be reasonable to assume the beauty of flying had somewhat rubbed off - you were certain it never would. No matter how many flights you took across country ,and in fact continents, for work; you’d never get sick of watching the view below you. It was perfect and breathtaking and took your mind off the pounding in the back of your head for the first 20 minutes.

Until the need for sleep took over as either you need to be unconcious or you were going to vomit - which you really didn’t want to do at 40,000 feet in a tin box. Trying to rearrange your limbs to get comfier you accidentally knocked Tom’s leg rather forcefully, causing him to jump half out his seat, heavy eyes blinking quickly as he tried to get his baring as to what was attacking him - quickly answered by your guilty look.

“You okay love?” His voice was slurred, sounding almost sleep drunk - but perhaps was just actually still a little drunk. You’d only headed to bead last night at 4 am and had to be up at 6 - which isnt very long for your poor kidneys to try and process the stupid amount of alcohol you’d both happily been chugging the night before.

“Feel shitty and cant sleep.” You weren’t in the mood to white lie - honestly some sympathy from your beautiful boyfriend seemed like a dream at the moment. Tom’s idea was better though.

“C’mere then.” His arms outstretched, you immediately jumped into his lap - the two of you shifting about to get comfortable till you were sat side on to him, your bum and back leaning against the arm rest of the chair with your legs going over his thighs and pressing against the wall of the plane. Pulling you closer to his chest, Tom took a deep breath as he pressed his chin against the crown of your head; your face now nested into his chest.

Nothing needed to be said as the two of you melted into each others bodies, the slow and deepening breathing enough to prove to each other you were both incredibly contented in that moment. More than that you felt safe- you’d admitted to Tom some weeks ago that you had never ever slept better than when he was beside you. Yeh it was cringey but sometimes that’s allowed right?

… well not to Harry. Because as the plane was about to begin it’s descent, the pilot had tasked Harry (who had slept off the worst of the hangover and had spent the last 30 minutes of the flight scoffing at how adorable the two of you looked fast asleep together) - even after Rach had scalded him and had taken a photo of the two of you on her phone.

Causing Harry to ,ever subtly, wake the two of you up by throwing his half empty water bottle over your heads.

Safe to say, Harry very nearly didn’t leave that jet alive.

#tom holland #tom holland fluff #tom holland x reader #tom holland x actress!reader #harry holland

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urlocalnctstan · 3 years

Text

𝚆𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝙻𝚎𝚏𝚝 𝚄𝚗𝚜𝚊𝚒𝚍 - 𝙹.𝚂𝙶

• Candy Hearts Collab - @127-mile

Prompt : “I came to say goodbye.”

Genre : Angst, Fluff, kinda Slow-burnish?, Slice of life, highschool + college AU

Pairing : Sungchan X Reader (Ft. Jeno)

Warning(s) : mentions of bullying and injury (like one scene only), unrequited love, mentions of slight anxiety, hormonal shifts, language, minor character death

Writing nets : @kdiarynet @k-dinernet @kpopscape @czennienet @neoturtles

Taglist : @eh-ovo-nctu

WC : 9.7k

Summary : What people hated the most is the very word ‘goodbye’. However, it’s the very word that becomes something that you yearn to hear from Sungchan for years.

→ Playlist [recommended]

The sound of the rain was supposed to calm you down, not make you even more anxious and sweaty and you sat with your legs firmly pressed against each other, hoping to fill in the lack of company you were feeling amongst the swarm of people who perhaps shared the same dreams, same aim as yours. Public places as trains, trams, bus stops; you always thought they portrayed as the perfect definition for the word ‘sonder.’ Each individual having a life pretty much as complex as yours — sometimes a little less or sometimes a little more. It fascinated you.

“Do you think the trip is worth it?” Lee Jeno, your best friend of quite a few years puffs his cheeks as he stared dubiously at the red and white poster he held. You took a peek at it, the amount of times Jeno had been pestering you if he should really give up the money he had saved for PS5 as a sacrifice for this trip, it was safe enough for you to say that you had every words printed on it memorized. Well, maybe not every words but the main stuff at least.

“Lee Jeno,” You sharply gawked at the male sitting beside you, earning an ugly grimace from him. “Stop it already. I don’t know about you but I ain’t passing this chance.”

“Wah, what a nice friend I got.” You failed to notice the dramatic eye roll he makes before shoving the poster in his backpack, the one he had been using since the first day you had befriended him. Was it 5 years? 6 years?

“Are we five years or six years?” But I met him on that bookstore down my neighborhood, that was like spring of 2017 and now it’s 2021.

The male let out a snort. “If I am a five year-old then you are definitely still inside the womb.” Even though he was smiling with that ‘innocent eye smile’ the evil smirk sheathed beneath went unnoticed by you. No sooner had he opened his mouth, a fresh harsh smack landed on his arms that were clad in a filmsy material of cotton and thus a silent yelp of pain escaping from him as he grabbed the area which was starting to sting with each passing second. The smack, albeit meant for him, you were unable to ignore the similar stinging pain in your palm, tears pricking in the corners of your eyes. But you made sure to show absolutely no signs of distress; it was somewhat a matter of childish pride for you.

“Change your career aim from a perfumist to an assassinator will you?” If it were the campus grounds, you two would have already been latched at one another throats; both metaphorically and literally.

“I will gladly not.” You huffed at the male whose eyes held a scornful gaze, now even more annoyed or perhaps, as you would think most of the times, he was just exaggerating. You found yourself mindlessly scrolling through your gallery in search of the recent notes from Mr. Kim’s classes. Until you stumble across something you had been long avoiding, a forlorn fragment from the former days of your high school.

“Here lies the proof of my utmost love and affection, always devoted to my only Y/N.”

It was a picture of you smiling way too bright, cheeks and nose flushed red while being squished by the only male in the frame as he pressed a peck against your cheek. His neck was craned to the side, ripe ears clearly visible in the small Polaroid film. As much as you hated to admit, your heart would still make flips and turns whenever you run into something that reminded you of him, your very first love and first heart break—Jung Sungchan.

Jeno was too busy in his dreamland as he dozed off with his head resting peacefully against your shoulder. It was no new news that the lad had been immensely in love with you ever since the first time you saved him from getting bullied back in 9th grade. However, you were always too busy with your academics and extra-curricular activities and thus clearly drawing a line of only being friends. Nothing else. It happened when Jeno had finally mustered up the courage after excelling in his Maths Olympiad, where he made a bet that if he indeed secures a place in the top 5, you have to abide by anything he wishes for. But he wished for your love, something you were not really capable of doing so; especially at that time. You did not have the heart to say no when Jeno jogged up to you, his eyes transforming into crescents as he smiled wide. “I did it!” His words came out rather breathy, possibly because of him running to you, and maybe because how hard he could feel his heart thump against his ribs when he noticed the proud grin on your face. Without wasting any moment further, Jeno lets go of the white banner of achievement he had been holding, his hands now focusing on yours. You could almost feel the slight tremble and the wetness of his sweaty palms, but before you could even say anything he beat to you by saying, “Go out on a date with me. Only one.”

There were numerous times when you felt guilty about turning down Jeno. At times it had you baffled that why a guy like him would ever bother liking you so much. Jeno was incredibly talented; gifted with unfair boon of genius traits in both academics and athletics. His little version of him always demeaned his abilities, often failing to notice that how much more he was rather than just a quiet kid who loved coding and maths. Maybe perhaps that was the very reason for him to face the bullying, at least that’s what you thought when you first noticed him getting cornered by some stupid idiot dipshits from your class during recess. Jeno’s ID card lay discarded on the ground, as Kihyun grabbed its owner by the collar. You could not understand his reason for not fighting back, and thus being a silent spectator was never your thing so you decided to butt in. As much as you equally hated and liked one thing, boys seemed to get kinda wary of your presence. Especially boys like these who were already in the blacklist of the teachers. It did not take them long to pick their asses and run from the site when you glared them with a threatening gaze, a single word from the class president and they would get suspended yet again for the umpteenth time in the year. You crouched down to Jeno’s level, carefully handing him his ID. You did not bother asking him if he was okay, of course he wasn’t. His face showed signs of previous injuries, the purple hues of bruises slightly fading beside his jaws. You still don’t know why but you felt the need to protect him from his solace, thus leading to this inseparable bond of yours.

But that was a version of him that was long forgotten. Jeno had become the star and face of the school in the last years of your highschool. Acing various quiz competitions, Olympiads, getting highest grades, being the captain of the soccer and basketball team; you were sure God really had His favorites.

You were not surprised when Jeno brought you to your usual favourite—candle shop. It was a hidden gem in your hometown, a small secluded shop located just a few miles away from the metropolitan. Not everyone was aware of its existence until that one day you decided to act rebellious for once in your school life. Of course dragging Jeno into this so called rebel act with you. The date was rather casual, just two friends messing around with wax and chemically named perfume essences. The shop was owned by a lady close to your grandma’s age, and it still makes you wonder how on earth was she able to keep up with the hollering you two were making. No matter how much you convinced yourself that maybe you could give the boy a chance, and perhaps feelings might grow on you later on; you could not make yourself cloud your rationality with the uncertain possibilities. You confessed every single thing that had been on your mind and Jeno just calmly listened to everything you uttered. You could clearly see the expression of hurt washing over his face, but he knew you. He knew that once you had made up your mind, there was no going back. The night did not cause any indifference in your friendship; it bloomed with each passing years of your middle school and then highschool. You two had become the infamous bestfriends, the once timid boy then all buff and handsome and the once spotlight lover girl then buried in her textbooks to pass the college entrance exams.

Throughout these years of teen, the candle shop had become a constant place for anything to you both; sadness, comfort or just enjoyable times. Until that one day when you met the grandson of the lady who owned the shop. Make a guess who it was.

When people spoke of their first heartbreak, you always cringed at how they exaggerated. Technically you never experienced one, so it seemed ridiculous to you that how was it possible to a simple break to cause others this much pain. You were shocked, no scratch that. Using fancy words, you were utterly bewildered when you saw the new transfer student—Jung Sungchan was the name, standing on the makeshift podium of your classroom. Thank God the architects decided to stick to keeping the height of the room above eight feet. You had changed drastically, contrasting your previous bubbly persona, you had become more reserved. It was just you being ambitious about something you had grown to like, and after some backstabs from your friends, you did not feel the need to have so many around you. Just Jeno being there for you was more than enough.

It would be a lie if Jeno did not sense the subtle looks you had been sending over to the new guy, but he was in no place to object you. It had only been a few moments of Sungchan’s arrival and Jeno already sensed his position in your life being threatened. He knew you were a saint who always looked out for others, and something about his presence made Jeno feel wary. Jeno did not need any of the privileges he had, all of it he owed to you after all. It was you who brought the best out of him, and in the end if he has them all but not you, it wasn’t clearly worth it to him. You preferred unpredictable things; it was what he learned about you in all your years of friendship. How you would always choose mystery thrillers over typical rom-coms, how you would always vouch for the new dish in the menu every time you both visited the local barbecue house. And he knew it was impossible to be one like that, it was just typical Taurus things (as he would like to blame) that made him too practical, too predictable for you. But, you never thought like that. It was just that even though you wanted to, you couldn’t make yourself grow romantic towards the boy you always shared your oreos and ramen with. He held a dear place in your heart and life.

Sungchan was immediately welcomed to the family, the girls already swooning over his good looks and amazing grades. Plus icing on the top, he was the half-brother of the infamous Jung Yoonoh, the heartthrob of the whole school, from juniors to seniors. While Jaehyun was the typical definition of being that one dude we always see in rom-coms who is loved and admired by all for his too humble personality and ethics, Sungchan on the other hand was more of a quiet one, often too shy properly open up his orginal self around new environment. Despite that, he was naturally amiable just like his brother, a trait that perhaps ran in the Jung household. Unlike Jaehyun who was presumably born with good brains, Sungchan was a hardworking one. Sungchan tried to settle down the queasy feeling he had been feeling ever since he moved back here, now that Jaehyun was always busy in Seoul with his medical degree someone had to look after their aging grandma. Sungchan was never really a part of any group, so leaving behind his school back in the city was not that painful for him. The atmosphere of the whole campus was pretty soothing; the bushes of neatly trimmed trees, big huge playground and the ochre shaded building. He liked all of it, and to top it all the uniform was really his style: solid crème and dark maroon combination.

When Sungchan stood awkwardly in the middle of the classroom, clearly clueless as to where he would be seating since all the seats were occupied, a soft voice called out his name rather eagerly. His eyes scanned for a while until he saw you; dark hair tied up neatly into a ponytail with a pencil in your hand as you waved him to notice the empty seat beside yours. Sungchan smiled at your sweet gesture, his out of place feeling now subsiding into the warmth of the possible blooming friendship.

“Hi there, I am Y/N.” You chirped, wiping your left hand before bringing it out for him to shake. Sungchan froze for a while before he realized what he was supposed to be doing. “Oh! And this is Jeno!” You turned slightly towards your best friend sitting just behind you with his famous eye smile.

“Hello, I am Jung Sungchan.” He returned the gesture shaking both your and Jeno’s hand. Whilst Jeno had the feeling of roughness and athleticism in his, your hands were warm and soft; it felt nice he thought. That was the first impression of yours to him: ball of sunshine. And your impression of him? Reserved and unpredictable; a combination that only meant chaos and imbalance.

Sungchan side-glanced at your fumbling state. Seating next to him you in the front row, you skimmed over your not so pleasant looking notes that you had scribbled anxiously in the prior night. Public speaking had never been a big deal for you once you get adjusted to the audience after going up on stage. However, it is the pre anxiety session that just always riles you up.

“You know,” Your head whipped a bit too fast to your liking at the voice belonging to the only male that sat beside you. “I’ll show you a trick. Here.” Sungchan proceeded to softly place your trembling hands on his, cautiousness apparent with every move he made. Even though you both had been seatmates for the last three months, you never found yourself involved in any sort of skinship with him; something that was really common for you and Jeno. The look of fluster was way too obvious when Sungchan softly rubbed various shapes on the back of your hand with his thumb, you were unsure if he was actually helping you ease from nervousness or just increasing it further. It had quite been a while since you had your hands caged in his, both of you completely unaware of the looks you had been getting from your senior teachers seated in the neighboring row. The moment was cut off when your name was announced from the stage by a senior, requesting your presence to commence your speech. Sungchan slowly lets go of your hands, mumbling a soft ‘best of luck!’ with his hands now fisted as an act of verbal encouragement. You eyes wandered around the crowd for a while before locating your best friend who sat miserably beside the homeroom teacher, really closing to dozing off before noticing your presence and copying Sungchan’s gestures.

The bus paused, Jeno still deep in his slumber despite the harsh jerk of the vehicle stopping in its tracks. You sighed, he must have probably been gaming the whole night with his roommate Donghyuck again. You nudged softly at first, the lack of response later than causing you to shake him vigorously by his toned arms that barely fit in your palms. Jeno instantly sprinted up with wide eyes before softly muttering a curse at your cruel way of waking him up.

“I was definitely right about you being a torturer in your previous life.”

“Sure you were. Get your ass off the bus now.”

You parted your ways with Jeno on the campus ground, him heading to his coding facult while you headed towards the chemistry club room. Apparently a newbie was supposed to come today from the US. It was odd you assumed since US had much better facilities for students majoring in chemistry. You glanced at your figure on your way to the room, wondering if the ripped jeans were a good choice as a first impression. You just disliked the idea of leaving off bad impressions, even if you are never going to meet the person again until your next life. Jaemin, another close friend of both you and Jeno smiled widely at your entrance, waving his hand as he pointed the seat next to him enthusiastically. Jaemin and you were basically clones of each other, the leos inside of you both shinig at its best whenever you two are together.

“I don’t understand why move back here from THE United States.” Jaemin dragged out the word, scoffing silently as he handed you a cup of iced Americano. You were about to sip before pausing. You could not have possibly risked your stomach again after that one fateful day when you tasted ‘his type’ of iced Americano. This dude legit gulped down eight espresso shots with a satisfied hum, horrified looks painted on your and Jeno’s features as you both just stared at him in utter shock.

“Please not the poisonous drink.” You eyed the male suspiciously, who scoffed at the nickname.

“Of couse not little baby.” Jaemin cooed with his lips puckered and an annoying high pitched voice, purposefully pinching your cheeks a bit harder than he usually does.

“You little moth-”

“Hello guys, I am Sungchan. Nice to meet you all.” Your heart dropped at the familiar tone of voice. He isn’t possibly back again after leaving without any traces, without a single goodbye, is he? You did not dare to look at his figure standing in front of the table, awkwardly shifting in your seat while Jaemin furrowed his eyebrows in confusion.

“Hello, Sungchan.” Sulli, your senior by 2 years and also the president of the club greeted him warmly. “I hope you like it here because adjusting to a new place might be hard at times. Oh, these are your classmates; Y/N and Jaemin.”

Sungchan immediately looked in your direction at the mention of your name, his eyes equally wide in surprise mirroring your previous reaction.

“Y/N?” He called out in a rather unsure tone, just like his movements the cautiousness was also present there. “It’s been……a while….”

“Yeah, indeed.” You had a visible change in demeanor, Jaemin finally grasping the tense situation before jogging up to the male.

“Hi there, I am Na Jaemin. You can call me Nana if you want.” Jaemin put his hand out as a formality, to which Sungchan politely complied. “There’s a seat there you can sit.” Jaemin was luckily wise enough to occupy the empty seat beside yours without knowing the turn of events. He motioned Sungchan towards the seat diagonal to you, sensing the discomfort in your posture he assumed it was best if Sungchan sat somewhat further.

Concentrating on the yearly planning for the club was harder with his presence; Sungchan unable to hide his obvious lingering gaze on you. Jaemin would cough every now and then, signaling the male to focus on the club president’s instructions instead of you. But as his usual self, Sungchan pretended to not notice the clear hints, continuing keep his eyes locked on yours. You were barely able to note down some important events, knowing that Jaemin certainly cannot be trusted with his short time memory. After that president bids her farewell to everyone present in the room, you take it as your cue to just flee as soon as possible from his reach.

“Y/N, wait!” Sungchan was quick to grab you just as you were about to exit by the door, the sudden halt in movement causing you to stumble back into his embrace awkwardly. You were definitely embarrassed, your back pressed against his chest in a weird manner as you straighten yourself again. You scrunched you nose to hide your embarrassment before asking him.

“What is it now Jung Sungchan?” You were not meaning to snap at him, but the bitter memories of the past seemed to get the best of you.

Sungchan slightly winced at your cold tone, but what else could have expected after all the pain he had caused you. “I…I do..I mean like I..”

“Sungchan, I have my classes. Gather up your thoughts and then talk.” With that you turned on your heels, not even bothering to take your bag that you left on the seat you were prior sitting. Jaemin observed the scene quietly, his minds finally connecting the dots. Jung Sungchan, the boy you would always cry about whenever you got drunk, the boy who left you with nothing but memories of him. Jaemin thought it was best to not let out his inner frustration towards the guy who was now standing motionless in his tracks, lost in his trance as he gaped towards the door you had just left. Jaemin passed by Sungchan without a word, instinctively grabbing your bag as he made his way to his next class.

Sungchan stood dumbfounded, numerous thoughts racing in his mind. Why did I have to be so foolish? He thought. How can I blame her when I was the one who broke the promise first?

Summer 2017

It was getting pretty boring for you at the library; usually some of the classmates bickering would give you some sort of silent company as you scribble down the notes. But for some unfound reason you seemed to be extremely distracted. You let out a long annoyed huffed, hands stretching in weird directions as you rested your head on the wooden table. It struck your mind there might be butts of nails pointed out and you didn’t want to get yourself a shot of tetanus, so you lazily glided your hands across the surface before returning back to your half laying position. It didn’t take long for you to zone out, mind running through various scenarios of university life, jobs and perhaps marriage? You blushed at the thought, just like any other teen you were also low-key always looking forward to your wedding.

“Are you asleep?” You shot up startled at the sudden voice, eyes immediately widening as you realized the owner. Sungchan had a smile with his lips pressed into a thin line, casually pulling out the empty seat beside yours as he made himself comfortable on it.

“Good to know you’re not. I need your help.” Sungchan wasted no time rummaging out a stack of sheets from his backpack, pressing them against the wood with a loud thump. You slightly winced at the loudness since the library was extra quiet today, the sound thus bouncing off more.

“You know if it’s literature, I suck at it.” Your mind took you back at that one time when you almost got yourself a C on the mentioned subject, chills running down at the memory.

“No, no.” Sungchan waved his hands softly chuckling. “It’s actually chemistry. Judging as a seatmate, I believe it’s your best sport.”

You happily nodded at the male, pleased that you get to help him with something that was under your specialty. Sungchan took a notice of your happy state, equally pleased that it was you that would be helping him.

“Tell me, what can I help you with.” You took the fat book from his hold, skimming over the contents page before highlighting the topics that were extremely important for the semester.

“I think hybridization? I just can’t seem to get how it works!” Sungchan’s voice levitated suddenly out of frustration, momentarily catching you off guard. Sungchan seemed to notice your amused look, shyly rubbing the nape of his neck with a little shrug.

“You know this is the first time I’ve seen you frustrated.” You commented, eyes fixated on the pages even though they were being extremely reluctant to rather focus on the fussy male. “It’s pretty easy you know. Look.” You explained him cautiously and slowly, how the overlapping of the orbitals occurred not realizing the proximity that seemed to lessen drastically. You whipped at his direction to see any signs of confusion, only to be met with a pair of dark orbs that stared at you intently. As embarrassing as it may sound, you gulped loudly. A bit too loud than you had intended to.

Sunghcan took notice of the situation you both blanketed in as a wave of déjà vu washed over him. He cleared his throat loud and awkward, half to lessen the embarrassment you were feeling and to poorly hide his own. You both were looking everywhere but each other, too dumb to maximize the close distance instead of acting like awkward cats.

“What are you both doing?” a deep male voice jerked you back to reality, upon turning you saw it belonged to Jeno. When did he come here?

“She was explaining the hybridization shits.” Sungchan huffed, slowly settling back to his orginal position. “I asked you so many times though…”

“You know chemistry is not my cup of tea.” Jeno shrugged at the male, a lazy smile playing on his face. “You wanna stay for b-ball practice today?”

“Not sure, I’ll see to it mate.” Sungchan did that fist-bump with Jeno, the two casually mingling like old friends as you stared idiotically at the scene unfolding in front of you.

“Since when did you both become Damon and Pythias?”

“Y/N, please not again your alien languages.” Jeno rolled his eyes before taking the seat beside, sandwiching you between both the males. “Since you happen to be tutoring a clown, an addition of another clown won’t do you any harm.” Jeno smiled at you, his doe eyes disappearing in the process.

Sungchan held back his snort, looking over both of you, he was happy. Though he was not as close to you as he had become to Jeno, he still considered you somewhat a close friend of his. Being seatmates with you and Jeno, it was inevitable that he soon became a constant in your life. Did I tell you that the candle shop was owned by his grandma? The shop if anything, had become this secret spot for you three. Study dates, random chills or just lazying around, the candle shop would be the first name that would pop up in your mind.

With a blink of an eye perhaps junior year passes. Maybe that was how last years of highschool were. At one moment you barely just got promoted to a new class, and at another, you’re yet again getting promoted to higher one. You sat under the dull moonlight, a thin cardigan that was gifted to you by your dearest friend’s grandma. When Sungchan invited you and Jeno at his, his grandma had knitted this cardigan for you and a beanie for Jeno. The gesture was so sweet that it completely melted your heart, she was the living definition of wholesome for you.

It was maybe that one day when you three decided to stroll the spring fair of your neighborhood, when you both finally came clean to your feelings. Jeno was always the one pointing you out that how you should just be a woman and confess. “It doesn’t always have to be the guy that says I LIKE YOU!” This what we he said before disappearing into the hives of crowds, leaving you waiting for Sungchan at the front of the public toilet he was finishing his business in. Pretty awkward right? Where else does anyone get to see a girl waiting for her crush in front of a public restroom. Sungchan came back outside, shuffling out his handphone before furrowing his brows at the text he just received. You immediately understood it was from Jeno. You had no idea what came over you, it felt like the adrenaline in your system decided to flood your nervous system, not even aware of yourself just launching at the dude with a chaste kiss on his lips. He was completely taken aback by the sudden feeling of your lips on his, it took him a while before responding you back with the same enthusiasm. You broke first from the kiss, not realising your fists crunching his prior perfectly ironed shirt. But he did not mind it all, a shy smile playing on both of your faces. The rest of the night was spent with your hands laced in his, just like another high school sweethearts of the time.

You smiled at the memory. Sungchan had a cigarette lit between the tips of his fingers, the tobacco smoke slowly poking your nose but not strong enough to bother you. With a deep sigh, he took a puff before blowing it own again in the air, a cloud of smog dancing around his figure.

“You should quit it, it’s not healthy.” It had already been a year since you became friends and six months since you became more than it, but there were times like this when you still found yourself nervous and wary whenever you are talking to him. You snuggled yourself into the cardigan, hugging yourself to minimize the tinges of frostbites. Sungchan was considerate of your discomfort, whenever he smoked, he made sure the cigarette was at least 2 feet away from you.

“Take this.” Sungchan handed you another thick layer of clothing from his bag, his initials “J.SG” written big and bold. Without much thought, you accepted his kindness, and Sungchan had high tolerance to cold anyways unlike you who would shiver to death in the most usual temperatures. You figured Sungchan decided to dodge the topic you brought it, and you figured it would be better to not bring it up for a while.

“Where do you plan on going for college.” Sungchan spoke while rubbing the shortened cigarette on the bricks of the roof, swallowing the remaining water from his bottle throwing a strawberry gum inside his mouth. You figured he was now free from the reek of tobacco as you scoot closer to his form, opening your arms within the jacket for his to snuggle in as well. Just like Jeno, skinship was no new news for you both too, however; it always had your heart racing like crazy. You both remained cozy under the warm embrace of the jacket, and you prayed Sungchan would never listen how your pulse was acting up.

“I don’t know. Perhaps SNU? I mean only if I get accepted...” You trailed off, propping your chin against your bent knees before glancing at the boy. Then it struck you, what made him ask this sudden question, what made him smoke three cigarettes straight despite having yearly break for a whole month. “Will you be going to the US as well?”

“I don’t know...” Sungchan deeply sighed, his lips forming a small pout as he indulged in deep thought. What if he actually happens to leave for America? Your heart clenched at the thought, mimicking his sighs you rested your head against his shoulder.

“You know,” You stared at the sky, it was dark and clear with no signs of stars. The feeling was unsettling. “Wherever you go, we’ll always be there for you.” Your eyes shifted to the illuminating lights from numerous buildings that replaced the absence of the twinkling stars in the sky. The ominous feeling soon dissipated into relief. It was as if the universe telling you, we just have to look out for the good sides instead of dwelling on the bad.

“I know.” Sungchan smiled, one that was both happy and sad. He rested his head on yours, joining your company of gazing at the scenery. “I know.”

“Just...” there was hesitation laced in your tone, Sungchan was quick to notice it as he looked at you, nodding for you to continue. “Please don’t leave...not without a goodbye. Promise me that.”

“I promise you.” Sungchan held your cold hands in his warmer ones, a firm assurance making your heart swell in both hurt and adoration as you kissed him again.

You both never really made it official, despite the kiss at the fair. It was perhaps the uncertainty that held you both back. Sungchan’s future was not in his hands but his family’s; just like his brother, he is supposed to make his family shine bright. It was one of the major reasons why his parents let both the brothers two years of freedom on their remaining bits of high school. ‘All parents want the best for their kids,’ that’s what you would always say to him whenever you meet him at his roof; him smoking while you offered his physical comfort.

The senior year passed within a whim, the fright of entering into adulthood descending upon all the students as they remained buried in their textbooks. Maybe it wasn’t the case for everyone, but it did apply to you and your friends. You remained occupied with you daily extra classes for chemistry while Sungchan had biology and Jeno had mathematics. You three would meet up in periodic breaks, catching up with small talks before returning back to your respective schedules. It was nothing but hectic, and soon, the candle shop returned back to being just another isolated shop in your hometown.

Graduation day was filled with smiles and congratulatory phrases from different individuals, throwing your grad caps in the air felt like as if you were throwing away a significant part of your life, ready to embrace a new version of you. All the parents stood their with proud grins, delighted at their children’s achievement to their dreams.

“Congratulations!” You chirped, receiving bone crushing hugs from both your males before an elderly voice called for you.

“Y/N! Jeno! Sungchan!” It was your mom, waving excitedly to grab you and the males’ attention. “Say cheese!”

“Cheese!” You all resonated together, happy and delighted.

A series of furious knocks jolted you awake from your sleep. You figured it might have been your younger brother, probably wanting your help in his homework.

“I swear to god Y/b/n!” You let out an ear piercing shout, groggily rubbing your eyes from deep slumber.

“It’s me. Jeno.” You heard how breathy his voice sounded, it was coated with urgency and hurt. You heart dropped but you prayed to the Heavens and God, you prayed that it should not be the very thing that you had been dreading so much. You shot up from your bed, not even bothering to make yourself look presentable before whipping the door open to meet with an equally dazed and riled Jeno.

“It’s Sungchan. He...” Jeno beathed out a deep sigh, before handing you a lilac envelope, the initials J.SG written in bold. You failed to feel the tears pooling up, threatening to fall anytime. Jeno glanced over you sympathetically, with shaky trembling hands, you took the the paper.

You don’t bother to closer the door, Jeno soon taking his leave as he thought it would be best to give you some space to absorb it all in. The tears had started to stream uncontrollably when you saw the picture that came with the letter. It was one of the many pictures that you took on the night of the fair; the day you had confessed, the you had your first kiss. It was a polaroid of you holding him lovingly in an embrace, him shyly placing a kiss on your cheeks with the words ‘Here lies the proof of my utmost love and affection, always devoted to my only Y/N’ scribbled on the white frame. Your hands fished for your cellphone, frantically dialing his number as you waited for him to pick up, hoping that he’ll soothe your anxiety by saying he did not leave, that he was still in town and you were just being delusional.

But every time you dialed his contact, you were being forwarded to the monotonous tone saying that the number was currently unreachable. Your chest squeezed in pain, he had promised you. He promised you that he will come for a goodbye at least. He had promised you that he would never leave you clueless and hurting. All you ever asked for him, was just a goodbye; perhaps a source assurance for you to wait for his return.

You wiped the tears with the edge of your sleeves, opening the the piece of folded paper.

‘Dear lovely Y/N,

You might resent me when you receive this letter, and I certainly don’t blame you for that. I am not the best with words, I am clumsy and unexpressive but I hope that this piece of scribblings makes you understand all my feelings, my thoughts and emotions that have been haunting me from the day I first saw you.

You know I that I am very much aware that I do....hold some handsome genes.’ You couldn’t help but snicker at this.

‘However, unlike all, as typical as it may sound, you stood out. You lazily laid sprawling across your desk in deep slumber, completely unaware of the chaos of classroom. I wish I was that carefree like you, indulged in her own world and comfort bubble. It attracted me a lot.’ You got up from the floor, eyes still glued to the piece of paper as you shut your door locked. Your hands still went to dial his contact, but only to be forwarded to that damned robotic voice.

‘I wanted to be like you, not bothered by the constant pressures of coming from a prestigious family. Did I ever tell you my dad is the Director of Myeongsu Hospital?’ You gasped at the sudden information. His dad was the director of the one of the most prestigious and renowned hospitals of South Korea. It was too overwhelming for you to process, but you still found yourself continuing.

‘It was inevitable for me to act like just another teenager, not for me but for my brother too. I always blamed him for being so selfish when he just left me alone when he came to grandma, I failed to realize that it was some sort of comfort gift from our parents so that we’ll devote ourselves to build the family’s name for the rest of our lives.

Even though I wanna blame them, I don’t think I can because they had the same fate. It comes with a price when you’re born with a silver spoon, and I guess I had to pay mine when I left your doorstep last night. I...I was a coward. I know I should have just come up, hug you and kiss you for the last time. But I just couldn’t. I was too scared.

I was scared that the moment I’ll see you, my guards will crash down. These two days were really hectic for me, I made up excuses when you invited me at yours because I was afraid of losing my balance. I knew that only a glance at you would be enough to make me change my mind and revolt against my parents, my fate. And you have no idea how much I wanted to do so, you have no idea how I’ve spent endless of sleepless night where it is the only thing that would run on my mind. But you tell me, would it be really worth it? I did not want you spending the rest of your lives with swarming paps and reporters, publishing reports and articles of how you managed to tarnish the heir-in-line of the prestigious hospital. No I could never do to that someone I love so dearly. I could never in a thousand years do that.

You know every time I picture you in your grown-up self, I can only see a strong and confident woman thriving in her career, a woman that is so powerful but still has a heart of gold. I know that you’ll be an amazing person, inside and out. I wasn’t really planning to express my love and admiration for you like this, I hoped to do it in person, but perhaps, maybe that’s how the stars planned it out for us. Fate is extra cruel in my case don’t you think?

It would be extremely selfish of me to ask you to wait; I am not even sure if I would ever return because my father would be opening another branch in US. And well, I am not sure what plans he has for me.

So please, if you ever find it in your heart, I hope you will forgive me. And even if you don’t, please don’t ever feel guilty about it. You have all the right to do so and I most certainly deserve your hatred. I love you so much, Y/N. You’re my first kiss, my first love, and you’ll always hold this irreplaceable place in my heart.

With Love,

Jung Sungchan.

You felt your world crashing down, a part of you wished that this letter never ended. The only remain from him had also come to an end, and you were not sure how you would be able to cope with his absence for the next years of your life.

Present

“Sungchan is back?” Jeno widened his eyes in shock, the information seemingly unbelievable to him. “He really is?”

“Yes.” You monotonously replied, numerous thoughts battling at the back of your head. Jaemin cleared his throat, a sign for Jeno to not bring up the topic for a while. Jeno eyed the male in confusion before finally getting the hint.

“You’re lucky you don’t get to have Mr.Suh’s classes, he’s just hot and it’s frustrating. And that’s coming from a straight dude like me.” Jeno slurped on his smoothie loud and sound, probably to annoy the other male as he was well aware his distaste to people making sounds while eating.

“Y/N.” a voiced called out from behind, and you instantly knew who it belonged to.

“Sungchan. Oh my god!” Jeno shot up from his seat, immediately embracing the old face from his past. “How have you been man? You just disappeared...”

“I am so sorry.” Sungchan looked at Jeno with pleading eyes. “I know I have absolutely no excuse for my act and I am just so sorry, Jeno and Y/N.” Sungchan looked at Jeno who silently urged him to talk to you.

“Y/N, please talk to me. I don’t expect your forgiveness but please. Atleast curse me, hit me just do anything. Please.”

You whipped your head to find Sungchan crouching down to match your seat level, a sigh escaping from you as you stood straight from your seat.

“Guys, I’ll be back.” You gripped his hands before dragging him alongside the canteen corridor.

Jaemin looked over his friend who stood staring at the way you just took. And expressionless look was painted on his features, causing Jaemin to shake his head and sigh. “You know man,” Jeno changed his attention to the male speaking, fixing his glasses. “If I were you, I would have just held her back. You’re extremely strong, I could have never done that.” With that Jaemin patted his friend’s back, a silent assurance that if he needed a shoulder to cry or to simply lean on for comfort, he’ll be there for him.

A mixture of feelings were erupting inside you, you were furious but happy. Sad but grateful. You scanned the halls for signs of any empty classroom and upon finding one you just shoved the male inside it.

“What’s so funny about messing with my feelings?” You already tears welling up, your vision blurry as you sharply glance at the male with a frown on his face.

“Y/N, I would nev-”

“You left me,” you utterly hated at how pathetic you sounded at the moment, harshly wiping the tears streaming down your cheeks. “You promised me that you won’t leave without showing up one last time, but you did. You fucking did.” You knew it was not something under his control, but you couldn’t help but pour your bottled feelings.

“Please...Y/N...listen..to me...Please..” Sungchan lost his composure, his voice breaking as he stepped closer to you. Seeing how you did not flinch at his approach, Sungchan captivated you in his embrace, something that he had been yearning for ever since he parted ways. You felt the wetness of his tears on your head, melting in his longing embrace you found yourself hugging him back. You missed him so much, his scent, warmth, presence. Everything about him drove you crazy, you were still dazed to believe if he was actually back for real or is it just one of your numerous daydreams.

The rest of the days went as usual, but only with the addition of Sungchan back again in your life. Although you had long forgiven him in his heart, you decided to not vocal it out. As heartless as it may sound, you wanted him to make up for the pain he caused you, and he indeed did. Jaemin was skeptical in the beginning at the idea of another person joining you small group, he had come to liking the idea of you guys as trio and was more comfortable like that. But he saw how your eyes lit up every time you about him when you were newly friends with Jaemin, how Jeno would always drunk talk about the times they passed as seatmates bothering the hell out of you. So Jaemin broke his exterior cold composure on the fourth day, finally accepting the banana milk from the new male as a form of bribe for his addition to the group.

Sungchan worked harder than deities; always making sure to get you Americanos before your classes, taking extra notes for you whenever you felt sick, tolerating your extremely drunk self and even dropping you back at your dorms safely. He had mentioned how he finally mustered up the courage to stand up against his fathers, that he wanted to do something else rather than working in the medical field. Even though he had still yet to decided his desired career, Sungchan decided to just follow his intuitions which ended up him taking chemistry as his major and thus landing in the same institution and same class as yours. And not to mention, he was beyond grateful for it.

A month had passed with his arrival, the awkwardness amongst everyone long gone and forgotten. It was as if he never left you. You were never over him, so his all time sweet gestures was making it harder for you to maintain your cold act.

“I happened to attempt making kimbap? But I am not sure if they are edible..” Sungchan trailed off as he hesitantly hands you the small metal box. You almost laughed at how cute but messy they looked, his failed attempt at giving the rolls eyes and lips with sesame seeds and ketchup was beyond adorable. You took the box from his grasp, a smile playing on your face as you looked at him. Sungchan upon noticing your grin, rubbed the nap of his neck shyly, his ears and cheeks mirror the shade the of the ketchup. You took a bite from one of the many rolls he made, a hum of satisfaction escaping your lips as you relished the tangy sweet taste. It was perfect, just how you preferred it.

“It’s pretty good.” You licked the stain of ketchup from your fingers, failing to notice how the male blushed harder at your subtle act. “We have Mr.Lee’s class, so I believe we should hurry up before it’s too late.”

On the night of the annual university carnival, Sungchan confessed to you. At least not in front of a public washroom this time. With the constant aid of Jeno and Jaemin, Sungchan was able to plan out a pretty dramatic confession for you. You were completely surprised when Jaemin called you out of nowhere, frantically asking for your presence to a specific classroom. You feared if the dork had committed some sort of treason explaining how dramatic he sounded, so you rushed without giving any second thoughts. However, when you saw the trail of roses with candles adorning the edges, you froze. It had the same scent both you and Sungchan had invented; the sweet scent of lily with tinges of tangerine to it.

A flustered looking Sungchan steps out from the dark, his hands rest behind his back as you cautiously scanned your face. When he saw no signs of discomfort, Sungchan slowly jogged to where you stood, his hands holding a bouquet of lilies with a small note on top of it.

“I know I have made tons of mistakes, hurt you so many times. But I still want to test my luck.” Sungchan got down on his knees, holding the bouquet with his head hanging low. “Y/L/N, will you allow me to be your man? Will you be my girlfriend?”

A shit eating grin spread on your face, slightly giggling at how adorable he looked. “I thought you’d never ask.” You took the flowers, a soft smile adorning your lips as you lock eyes with an extremely surprised Sungchan. “Of course Sungchan.”

“Of course? For real?” Sungchan couldn’t believe what just happened, he was half expecting you to flat out reject him at how inconsiderate he had been. But you accepted his apology, accepted his love. Sungchan stood up, his heart squeezing in delight and adoration for you. He cupped your face gently, as if you were a porcelain doll that would just break if not handled carefully. You saw how his eyes shone with love, sparkling brightly on the soft light from the lighted candles and you swore you never felt so much before for anyone else as much as you felt for him. Sungchan closed the proximity, his nose slight touching yours as he rested his forehead against yours, the smiling never for once leaving his face.

The tension was building up with each passing second, the sounds of your heavy breathing being the only silence breaker. You got impatient, the feeling of his lush lips got you being greedy as you closed the distance standing on your tip-toes, momentarily catching him off the grid before receiving the same attention back. You gripped on his shirt, too unbothered to break the kiss despite losing your breath. He paused for a moment, panting before pulling you back under his spell. The bottled feelings and emotions of longing and pining for each other were poured into the this sweet shared moment of yours. You were grateful that the whole building had no signs of any lurking students and professors, what was supposed to be a innocent make-up kiss soon transformed into a heated one as he held you by your waist, pinning you against the wall with his lips still attached to yours.

You pulled back for the heavy make-out session, almost earning a whine from the male before you soothed him with you words that came next. “I love you.”

Sungchan felt his already beating heart pick up its pace, becoming hastier that he was low-key afraid if he might face a stroke anytime. With a loving grin, he looked back at you who was still caged in his arms. He tucked the stray of hair brushing across the sides of your face from the soft breeze entering the windows, the illuminating yellow hues from the candles making you look like a dream. A dream that seemed unattainable to him until this very moment.

“I love you so so much. Thank you. Thank you for giving me a chance to prove myself, to allow me to show you my feelings, Y/N.” He was breathless, he felt so many emotions at that moment when you glanced at him loving. He was afraid his pulse might stop any moment, so he kissed you back, but now filled with passion and desire. And let’s just say, one of your fantasies were fulfilled that night.

The news of his grandma passing away came after a few months when you both had officially started dating. Both the Jungs were extremely close to her, so when Jaehyun took her back to Myeongsu Hospital where he was currently the chief of neurology, her condition was inevitable. Jaehyun hoped that maybe she might get to spend more time on earth under his care, but he too was victim in the cruel hands of destiny. Sungchan rushed to your dorm, bloodshot eyes as he told you the news. You found yourself sobbing alongside him, tenderly keeping him embraced in your warmth as you shared his pain. You knew her personally as well, all the moments spent with her were a profound favorite part of teen years.

“I wanted to meet you before I leave for Seoul. I came to say a goodbye.” Sungchan sniffed, his hands wiping away the streams of water rolling down your face. You smiled at his concern, mimicking his actions you brushed his sweaty bangs away from his forehead before placing a soft peck against it.

“It’s okay. Don’t tell me goodbyes anymore...for I know you’ll always come back to me.”

Epilogue

Sungchan fumbled with his tie nervously, bile reaching up his throat as the worst scenarios flooded his brains. His eyes frantically looked around for help, making a bow-tie was just not his cup of his. A breath of relief escapes his lips when his eyes landed on his closest beloved friend Jeno. Jeno stood leaning against the door frame, an amused grin painting his sharp features as he walked to the struggling male.

“Bro...” Sungchan huffed pleadingly, a pout forming his eyes.

“Yes bro.” Jeno flashed him an eye roll, before having the same eye smile again as he fixed his friend’s tie. After all, it was a big event for him.

To say the least, you looked breathtaking in your white laced gown. The simplicity of the dress made you look more elegant, it enhanced your natural beauty and Sungchan couldn’t just tear his eyes away from your form. It was supposed to be the bride’s day, but to him you shone the brightest.

“You know it’s me getting married, but the new comers might assume it’s you considering how you are gaping at y/n shamelessly.” Jaehyun hissed to his best man, earning a scoff from Sungchan.

“Hyung, let me have my moment! Please.” Sungchan whined but was careful to tone it down, only to receive a slight nudge from the groom who chuckled at his antics.

The wedding was glamorous, elegant, anything that could be named as a dream wedding. Sungchan remained glued beside you the whole night, a proud grin on his face every time he was asked about the lady whose arms laid locked with his. With a smug look, he would rub on their faces that you were his girlfriend, especially exaggerating to the males who seemed to had their eyes on you. You both enjoyed the silent company of each other, the soothing sounds of the wind replacing the absence of music as Sungchan drove you back to your place, hands still intertwined. When he came in front of your shared apartment, he fidgeted in his seat nervously; fishing out something from his coat.

You figured it was another one of his endless gifts, so you just smiled with your back resting against the cushion seat of the car.

“Sungchan, you really need to-”

A throat seering stopped you in the midst of speaking, your eyes widening when you realized what the purple velvet box might contain. Sungchan let out breaths of nervousness, blowing out some air out of his lungs to lessen the feeling of anxiety as he looked at you, eyes as genuine as ever.

“Y/N, I don’t believe in fancy proposals as you know. It is an intimate moment for us so I want it to happen in the presence of only us.” Sungchan stuttered in the middle as he opened the box, revealing an extremely gorgeous but simple plated band with a small stone adorning the top perfectly.

“So will you marry me?”

You stared at the male dumbfounded. Your eyes refused to believe the scene in front of you, hearts doing numerous flips and turns and it was just hard to explain all the feelings you were feeling. Sungchan had always been the one for you, and even though not everyone gets to have a happy ending with their first love, you were beyond grateful that you had happened to fall in the rare probability.

“I...OF COURSE. OF COURSE I WILL.” You yelped in delight, shoving your hand in front of his face as he just laughed while placing the ring on your finger. It fit perfectly. You grabbed him by the collar and kissed him with your overpowering passion and love, not realizing how if continued any longer, you guys might have to pay a fine for parking on the wrong side. So without wasting any time further, you both hauled yourselves to your apartment, refusing to break the contact of your lips molded perfectly together on your way. In short, let’s just say ‘sweet innocent kiss transformed into a heated one’ yet again.

I went completely overboard with this. I am so sorry if it didn’t turn up as you had expected it to, and honestly I am not completely pleased with it either. I felt like it could’ve been better in terms of expressing emotions. However, improvement is a never ending proccess and im still learning. SO TO WHOEVER WHO HAPPENED TO MAKE THIS TILL HERE. I LOVE YOU SODIJMS YOU DONT KNOW HOW MUCH IT MEANS TO ME.

Feedbacks and criticisms are always appreciated! Please care to leave them as it may help me potentially grow as a writer. Thank you for sparing your time to read my piece of work.

with love,

Hana.

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rayofsunas · 3 years

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baby daddy | kaeya [2]

A/n: so already, in the first five minutes of me beginning to write tumblr decided to delete stuff again, so that’s pretty swag ;-; but nonetheless, I’m alright lmao, I’ve been super happy this week ever since I pulled xiao AND mona after wanting to give up plsss. also, I can’t exactly remember if I gave Klara a age in the last part, so I would just like to clarify that she’s one lol. anyways, here’s part two and I hope you guys enjoy!! it took me four hours to write this

Summary: kaeya wants to set a good example for his children, naturally. so he’s given up a lot of things, one being his excessive drinking. but being a knight is hard, despite how nonchalant he seems and he finds himself slipping sometimes… when you find out about it, you’re less than happy and decide spending time with the children would be a good idea for him. he’s more than happy to spend time with the three little monsters, but, he never realized what a normal day was for you when taking care of them.

Parings: Kaeya/Fem! Reader

Warnings: children, fluff, reader and kaeya are mid 20s, alcohol, Klara and Katheryne are friends because I said so, stan Katheryne she helps us so much-

Word count: 2.3k

The sun was slowly but surely rising, leaving beautiful orange and yellow hues to paint the usually bright blue sky, and Kaeya couldn’t be happier. Unlike the last couple of days, he’d been able to wake up, eat a quiet breakfast with you before the kids woke up though he tried and successfully tried to flirt his way into your already claimed heart, and then when Klara woke up, he got the chance to contently feed the wailing little girl; something he shockingly missed.

Even if at that moment, the tears and cries were a lot more than he could handle, he was more than happy to do something too trivial, just because he was spending more time with her. And unlike the other days, he’d been able to take her for her morning walk, before he’d have to report to headquarters.

Most citizens were still asleep, though very few could be seen preparing for the days work, a few stall owners he noted, as he held Klara’s tiny chubby hand and helped her walk through the town, though she greatly seemed to like speed, already worlds ahead with her mobility.

“Slow down, my little Mist Flower.” She was moving as fast as her little legs could take her, straight towards Katheryne who sometimes gave the little girl trinkets, saying adventurers had brought back things they didn’t wish to keep or had no use for. Even if Klara couldn’t really speak, she knew little things, “Thank you” was one of them, so she was always grateful despite not knowing exactly what they were. And although Katheryne seemed to not be human, some sort of machine with a very robot-like tone, she also made sure to let little Klara know how happy she was to give the youngest Alberich little trinkets.

“Good morning, Katheryne.” Kaeya called, grinning when his daughter’s eyes widened at the mention of the kind receptionist. As the pair approached the young woman, Klara yanked on her father's white cloak, instructing him to lift her into his arms, so she could get a better look, and Katheryne, usually behind the tall wooden counter.

“Oh- good morning, Captain Kaeya!” The woman exclaimed, eyes lighting up when she saw the little girl she adored very much. “And little Klara, good morning.” She was happy to see the pair well, seeing as though she hadn’t seen Klara in days.

“Hi, Kat...” Klara whispered with a shy smile, Katheryne smiled even more because of the use of the nickname she’d been given.

She was just the most adorable little girl ever, Katheryne couldn’t help but think.

All three Alberich children were the sweetest, though obviously, Klara had a sweet place in her heart especially. Adrien was an identical copy of you, sarcastic, very stubborn, but very respectable for such a young age. And Elena was a smart cookie, a young girl who enjoyed questioning and correct everyone and everything that she came across. Lastly, little Klara, who had much growing to do was the pride and joy of the large Alberich family. Everyone adored her and she continuously swayed hearts wherever she went, just her cute curiosity alone was enough to bring a smile to even Wagner’s face, who typically seemed grumpy.

Katheryne felt very lucky to have met them in this lifetime, they were a gift from the Archons, truly. Everyone knew Katheryne as the Adventurer Guild's Receptionist but to Klara? She was Kat, a generous friend who gave her gifts.

Though a sad frown graced the young woman's lips, Kaeya ever so observantly caught on, something was wrong.

“I’m very saddened to say this, but I’m afraid there aren’t any new trinkets suitable enough for little Klara today...” Yes indeed was the receptionist saddened, evident by every feature on her face. “There’s been a shortage it seems of adventurers and travelers willing to take the commissions.” The brunette stated.

“Why is this?” The Cavalry Captain questioned, silently huffing when the one-year-old attached to his hip kept chewing on his white fur cloak, closest to his neck. Great, another issue added to the mix. Maybe she had begun teething again? Archons, Kaeya really felt as though he’d missed so much, seeing as though he couldn’t remember the last time his youngest daughter had teethed or even if she'd stopped entirely together. In short, he probably hadn’t been there for that either, courtesy of his position and job.

“From my understanding, there have been more hoards of monsters, and something about a mutation as well,” Noted Katheryne, watching as the curiosity built upon the man's features. “Would you like to take a few of the commissions? To show Acting Grand Master Jean?”

The part bout there being an abundance of monsters did sound familiar, he’d been hearing about that a lot recently, but mutated forms as well? That was new... He’d have to bring that up today at the briefing, maybe Jean would know more than he currently did.

“None of that will be necessary. I’m heading there now, after I drop Klara off back home, I’ll just forward the information to her personally.” Katheryne nodded, seemingly getting sidetracked and entranced by the bright violet-eyed toddler staring at her, with her father's white fur cloak still in her mouth.

Adorable.

She still couldn’t help but feel bad though. The only trinkets that had been brought back from any scarce, but recent missions were partially damaged swords waiting for Wagner to fix or scrap into new materials.

Such a thing did not belong in the hands of a child, nonetheless the ever so gentle Klara Alberich, she was too sweet for this world to be handed a complimentary sword, even if she had heard Kaeya say the countless amount of times that he wanted to eventually teach each of the children how to use a sword, preferring to start earlier, rather than later. And from Katheryne’s overheard? She now knew it had been somewhat of a topic of discussion between you and Kaeya, causing mini spouts of anger and frustration.

Archons, how she wishes she had something suitable to give the little girl...

Katheryne nervously fidgeted. “Oh and about the trinkets-”

The usual daily gifts Kaetheryne would give to Klara, were absent today. Due to one big factor; adventurers and travelers weren’t taking commissions, therefore, they weren’t bringing back what Katheryne saw as unique finds, but they claimed to have no use for.

“No worries,” He was more worried about the fact that adventurers weren’t taking commissions instead of the usual trinkets Katheryne would give his daughter, nonetheless he offered reassurance. It really was no big deal.

Kaeya indeed was something else entirely, Katheryne concluded. A mind reader, some sort of witch- just different. How had he known without her even saying anything?

She was stunned for quite some time, though still feeling guilty despite his supposed reassurance. The guilt partially stemmed from the fact that Klara was staring so intently at her, with big blue-purple-hued eyes, unknowingly being one of the main stressors of Katheryne’s guilt...

“Klara has too many nicknacks anyways,” You and Kaeya were sure she’d be some kind of trinket collector when she was older, seeing as though she had so many already. “Y/n says you spoil her.” Kaeya’s statement almost sounded like he was scolding her, but if not for the grin and chuckle he offered that immediately followed, she wouldn’t have known he was being entirely playful.

“That is not my intention. She’s just so adorable, I cannot stop myself,” Kaeya laughed, glancing down at the toddler. She was adorable, his little Mist Flower.

“If it bother you or Miss Y/n, I’ll-”

“It’s quite alright, Katheryne, no need to worry,” Kaeya announced smoothly, dramatically waving his hand to show he was dismissing her statements of protest and concern.

“Alright...”

Eventually, Kaeya did take his leave, much to Katheryne’s dismay. She’d probably see Klara tomorrow, if he stayed true to his schedule, so she remained hopeful and excited for tomorrow.

Before he knew it, Kaeya was bringing Klara home, giving you and Elena - who was now awake - hugs and kisses, telling you both to let Adrien know he loved him and that he’d return soon - he was still asleep. And then just like that Kaeya was out the door again and off to headquarters.

No one expected him to be at the Cat’s Tail this late at night, but it wasn’t entirely unexpected nor rare by any means, he was a familiar face after all.

It was unexpected because Kaeya claimed he had given up the incessant and excessive drinking years ago when his firstborn, Adrien graced Teyvat. Sadly, it was expected, because it seemed he’d been in here more in the last week than in the last few years... Though, patrons who often visited the tavern were all betting on the fact that you were entirely clueless to how much he’d been drinking; they were right. You were too busy taking care of the children and training to hopefully join the Knights again, to even keep up with your husband's drinking habits. So, it went unnoticed.

Diluc though, who was often at the tavern, noticed it unlike you. Kaeya had been a great pretender, a great spy; good at keeping secrets, but when he had secrets, somehow Diluc always found himself finding out first, if not second, closely behind you. And unfortunately - Diluc thought - he was on the more personal spectrum concerning the certain Knight... He was his brother, your brother in law, an uncle... He disliked what Kaeya was doing, greatly. Especially since it felt as though his idiotic brother was going behind his family's back. No, he hadn’t promised to quit entirely, but he’d made it seem that way to you. Probably a fabrication so you wouldn’t worry...

Diluc should’ve known he'd find himself back here again, trying to get his once again, idiotic brother, to leave and go home. The pyro user couldn’t understand. His brother had everything he didn’t. A beautifully devoted wife, three amazingly easy children, a status many simple Knights and Guards would kill for; Captain. And he’d rather risk it all for a drink or two, maybe three.

You thought nothing of it. Kaeya was out late a lot, more often than not patrol and paperwork held him from returning home, but on the rare occasions that he had a sliver of free time that wasn’t spent with you and the kids, he was drinking.

You always knew when he wouldn’t be returning, in the form of a letter from Kaeya, stating he was alright but would be staying to do paperwork, etc. It would be brought by one of his underlings, Knights or Guards in training. But when that letter never came, you panicked.

Was he alright? He never forgot to write... Maybe he was held up?

Thankfully, Lisa had decided to come over for tea earlier and had still been here trying her best to reassure you, after seeing how worried you’d been after not receiving any letter.

“You should probably return home, I’ll be alright.” You kept reassuring the librarian, though she wasn’t falling for it. She could practically feel the stress and anxiety oozing off of you, it was concerning.

You could only be thankful Amber had been busy and couldn’t come over for tea or else she would’ve ripped Kaeya a new one when she got ahold of him. He’d never be able to leave for missions again, without getting a reminder from Amber to reach out or else...

“Darling, I’m not leaving until he returns.” She took your hands in hers, hoping to offer you comfort. Lisa had always been there for you, which you were very thankful

She had no prior experience with children, though she was incredible with your own. You figured because she was one of the older members of the Knights of Favonius, she had taken more of a big sister role and the youngers looked up to her wisdom. Though she wasn’t much older than you, only by five or six years, so she was really like an older sister towards you as well. Lisa was a very kind woman, you appreciated her tons.

“Maybe I should go find him? I could ask around...”

“Please don’t stress, Y/n,” Lisa said. “You’re too beautiful to stress. I trust that he’ll be here soon.”

Lisa was in fact right. Kaeya returned soon after she had said he would. Master Diluc knocked on the door close to midnight, hanging off his arm was your drunk husband. When you saw him slumped on his brother's shoulder, you immediately assumed the worst. Maybe he’d been physically harmed. You were under the impression he had stopped drinking.

But then, when you allowed Diluc to step further into the house, you got a huge waft of what you quickly recognized as alcohol. Surprisingly enough for Diluc, you didn’t yell, instead, you just stared at Kaeya with disappointment, gravitating towards him to try and take him from his brother's arms.

“Thank you Diluc, I’m sorry you had to deal with this so late.”

The Ragnivndr wanted to scold his brother, for making a fool of himself and you, leaving you worried and disappointed. But, using better judgment, Diluc just nodded and offered an understanding and apology, on behalf of his out of it brother.

“It’s quite alright, I-”

“I’m sorry he had to come home this way,” Diluc stated, glaring at the taller man.

You hummed, helping Kaeya stumble into your living room, both Lisa and Diluc watching with worried gazes from the door. “Don’t worry, I’m just glad he’s safe.”

Diluc once again, realized his idiotic brother did not deserve you or your kindness and understanding. He was one lucky man, that was for sure.

[🏷] TAGLIST (if you want to be removed from/added to this specific taglist let me know!)

@gladly-olus , @kyquu , @craptainlou , @mintydump , @chscklvr , @irisxiel , @minh0ree

2.10.21, rayofsunas

#rayofsunas #genshin impact #genshin #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact scenarios #genshin impact imagines #kaeya #kaeya alberich #kaeya x reader #kaeya alberich x reader #i simp for kaeya so much #this took me 4 hours so pls i hope you enjoy

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thelittlepoetprincess · 3 years

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ᴘᴏɪꜱᴏɴᴏᴜꜱ ʟᴏᴠᴇ [Dabi x Reader]

Author's Note: I personally am not a fan of Lizard king here but go off. This took a long ass time to write not to mention proofread and edit. No idea if I'm making another part to this. Also, a lot of this is therapy wagon material. If you want to be tagged in these just say so.

Warnings: Fluff for a bit, Implied depression, mild spoilers, light mental manipulation, degrading, power play, oral sex(F receiving), hate sex, death mentions, arson, and physical abuse.

Summary: You chose your job over Dabi, and then severely regret it once he survives.

The numbness of grief was overwhelming, even more so when the one you were grieving was your lover. You settled onto the sofa, watching the news drone on about the recent death of Villian Dabi, confirmed now to be Touya Todoroki. You'd turn off the TV and lie on your back, not needing the extraneous details of his death. After all, you killed him.

The memory of it haunted you like ghosts dancing in your memories: the heated warmth of his palms that threatened to burn you but never did, the way he always wore worn down leather or rough worn down jackets, everything about him attracted you and only made his death hit you harder.

You were a lesser-known hero with a restoration quirk, able to numb large areas and heal minor wounds while still using it in large quantities. You'd met Dabi while out on a mission to recover a kidnapped hero, and you couldn't keep your hands off his wounds. Not like he'd let you after he felt your gentle touch ease his pain for once.

Six months, it only took six months for the bad boy to entangle himself into your life. He snuck into your old apartment all the time, made you comfortable, and he'd break down in front of you. He was a surprisingly affectionate lover, despite his many flaws. You'd feel something in your throw blanket, shaking it loose to find the leather jacket he always wore.

The navy blue leather faded slightly and burnt in specific areas where he couldn't control his flames.

You felt the fresh hot tears welling up behind your eyes as you clutched the jacket to your chest. It was much larger than you since Dabi was slightly taller, so your face nuzzled into where his neck would be. It still smelled of cigarettes and burnt flesh, the scent you grew to love so much.

You took a deep inhale, the tears starting to flow as you replayed your shared memories, unable to help the grief overwhelming you. Suddenly, you had no energy nor will to do anything except sleep, even moving was deemed too much to handle. The scent of your boyfriend lulled you to sleep, though it'd be one of the last times it'd do so.

Dabi wrapped his hands around your waist before hoisting you high in the air while the wind blew at your hair in the flowy white lace dress you wore. The undetailed field of wildflowers went on far beyond your sight as he twirled you around before falling on his back with you. You'd both be laughing in the hazy daze of love before sharing a loving kiss as the gentle grass blades tickled your skin.

You felt a leathery hand touch the skin of your cheek, the thick smell of cigarette smoke tickling your nose and making you sneeze before you gently smacked away the hand. You hear a deep, raspy chuckle before the person mysteriously pulls the coat on you like a blanket.

"Little hero, do you love me?" You'd mumble a yes subconsciously, something saddeningly familiar about whoever it was looming over your sleeping form. "Ha, cute. . ." You heard something about leaving and the door shut with a click, leaving you to sleep once again.

Your peaceful sleep is dreadfully short as your friends came in, yanking you from the grasp of sleep with their tumultuous noise.

You quickly hid the jacket, sleepily rubbing at your eyes as they opened your curtains and turned on the TV. It droned on about the agency you worked at and fire. However, you didn't have the energy nor will to care since you planned on quitting anyway.

They droned on about how you'd slept for two days straight and needed to get out, and you agreed. Maybe it would take your mind off of Dabi and the arsenic incident, also the five missed calls from your agency from two days ago. You'd shower and change, pulling your hair back out of your face for the first time for days.

The curls were dry against your fingers so you oiled your hands and massaged them into the brown mass you called hair, plucking it out to its full shape. You pulled on the black and blue dress, noticing how the dress hugged your hips a bit then flowed out to your mid-thigh. Perhaps you've gained a bit of weight these past 2 months.

Tired bags were under your eyes from sleeping for so long. After some light makeup, you left with them to the carnival.

Lights illuminated the dark navy blue sky as you got dragged about, the fun temporarily blinding you from the sadness overwhelming you. They led you into the Maze of Mirrors, their bodies contorting and bending around you confusedly while you searched for them until they disappeared. Their goofy laughter faded into an eerie silence with only your echoing footsteps left to fill the silence. You froze as you smelled a familiar scent: burnt flesh and cigarette smoke.

His chuckles were all around you as you saw the flashes of black and navy blue in the mirrors before he was suddenly standing in front of you.

He was pissed, you knew that snarky glare anywhere. It made you nervous as he closed the distance between the two of you without speaking a word until he backed you against the cold glass. He gently pressed himself against you, giving you no real way to escape him with his arms on both sides of your head. "Dabi-" "Shh, I don't wanna hear it. At least not here, too many people. They're already looking for me since I disappeared. We aren't safe, come on." He didn't ask as he hoisted you over his shoulders to carry you out the back exit.

He seemed gentle while he carried you, he wasn't rough at all. The heat you felt radiating from his palms as he held said otherwise as you worriedly fretted about him burning a hole in your clothes. Though you felt some relief knowing he wasn't dead: he was your love after all. You knew what was coming to you for feeding him arsenic wasn't going to be a gentle, loving reunion of star-crossed lovers. Dabi wasn't that kind of guy.

He made it back to your new apartment after knocking out the security guard at the gate and threw you onto the bed. He'd seemed to get angrier as he got closer to your apartment. Your hair messily fell around your face to make a curly halo around it. He was on top of you before you could attempt to sit up, his warm breath huffing down the side of your neck.

"Now what the fuck were you thinking, huh? An arsenic cupcake? You really wanna get rid of me that badly you snake." He seethed, and you felt the familiar feeling of your wrists being burnt by his flames. You cry out in pain, squirming under his grip with tears in your eyes.

"Oh you're crying, now you're crying. How do you think I felt getting sick and finding out my girlfriend poisoned me?" He'd growl out, as you stopped squirming and sucked it up. He was right, you deserved this. You tried to kill him, and all he'd done was be beside you and attempt to be somewhat of a lover to you. You looked up to him, his blue eyes lacking any gentleness or affection. It was hate, resentment, and importantly: lust.

That's when it hit you that you were a stress reliever for him. Everything that he kept pent up he always let it out on you, and for about a month now he hasn't had it. You'd reach out, gently tracing your fingers along his scars using your quirk to calm him and watch his eyes soften as he quite literally melted under your touch. He'd land on top of you, caging you underneath him with his arms, he exhaled a strained snarl before snatching your hands from his skin.

You couldn't help wincing once you felt the familiar burning sensation of Dabi's quirk in action yet again as the blue flames licked against your skin, at least it wasn't a third-degree this time.

"It was you, wasn't it? My agency, they called then it went up in flames." He didn't answer but you knew the answer by the way he buried into the side of your neck. He always did that when you accused him and he was guilty. You'd chuckle to yourself but yelp when you felt his teeth against the soft skin of your neck, suckling your skin.

You'd squirm as a familiar heat settled itself in the pit of your stomach. He huffed as he finally moved away from the purple bruise he left on your skin. His lips trailed down until he reached your exposed collarbone, chuckling before tracing his hands against your caramel skin sending chills down your spine. He'd kiss, lovingly at that, along the caramel curve of your breasts.

He'd yank you to the edge of the bed, moving between your legs with a focused look in his glimmering eyes. "Dabi, are you mad at me?" He'd chuckle before you'd feel a burn against your thighs while sinking his teeth into the soft plushness of your inner thigh. "Oh darling, I'm fucking furious." The sweet name rolled off his tongue, making you quiver when paired with his teasing licks over your soaked panties.

He paid no attention to your face, his main focus being on the slickness accumulating from your dripping hole. His hands traced up over the stretch marks gently decorating your skin so beautifully before burning off the panties, his tongue grazing the soaked slit before sliding his tongue up to your neglected clit. His mouth was warm and wet against your sensitive bud, making it grow under his expert tongue his suckling sent waves of pleasure coursing through your entire body, and core. The entire room felt hot, and it wasn't helping wherever his hands traced left heated burn trails. You'd run your fingers into hair, yanking it to where his tongue pressed against your hole. "Dabi, please I want it. . ."

"Shut it, I'm still pissed at you." He'd yank your arms away again, pressing his tongue into your hole. Your flavor flooded his tongue, making him lick and devour you hungrily. Your eyes rolled back, your hips subconsciously bucking against his tongue as it buried into your wet hole. Ecstasy, that's all you could describe the feeling at this moment. The waves of heat that swallowed you and threatened to keep you at this moment while your climax built up in that tight ball. You panted like a bitch in heat, your legs trembling as your fingers intertwined in his black hair. "Dabi, I'm. . . .I'm-!"

"Shut up, loud-ass slut. Come if you wanna come so bad!"

He'd say before continuing to devour you, his tongue digging into your spot just enough to send you tottering over the edge in waves of heat. You'd throw your head back, sending your curls flying wildly behind you as you rode out your orgasm and Dabi's face. Your legs closed around his head like a vice, keeping his tongue in your hole while he drank you greedily. He moaned into your nether lips, finally able to pull away with an exasperated breath.

His lips and chin were a mess of your nectar and saliva, but a smirk was on his face now. He'd notice his jacket hidden poorly, but laugh as he moved to take it and pull it on. He'd once again hoist you over his shoulder, humming as he slid his fingers along the walls setting them ablaze. "Dabi-?! What are you doing?! My apartment!" "I let you have too much freedom last time, but don't worry. I'll make it so that I'm the only one you can lean on. Then you'll never leave again."

He'd laugh as he carried you away, ignoring your cries and pleas while the building went up in flames along with everything you'd known up until now. His sick, twisted laughter filled your ears before you felt a hard force against your head, the inky blackness flooding your senses and knocking you out.

#bnha dabi #mha dabi #dabi lemon #Dabi #dabi smut #dabi my hero academia #bnha #dabi x reader #dabi fluff

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weasleypogues · 3 years

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written in the stars (f.w. au) pt. 2

hiii soo happy people liked the first part!! im actually obsessed with this au so this is so much fun to write! again, requests for other characters are open! :) let me know if you want to be tagged in this small fic! part 1 here!

tag list for the fic so far: @daddystevee @nojamsonmytoast @thebadassbitchqueen

masterlist. part 3.

hope you enjoy it !!! xx

your eyes scanned over the words again and again as your eyebrows furrowed together. balderdash. what could that mean? absolutely nothing could cross your mind as you stared at the black ink that was soon fading away. you felt frozen in place, astonished to see writing as you were waiting for this day for what felt like forever but confusion nonetheless.

“i should write back, right? does he know that this went through? clearly he’s older than me....” you spoke aloud, trying to wrap your head around it. you felt somewhat guilty feeling like this. you should have been excited to see words from your soulmate, knowing there was someone out there, but this was all such sudden change that you knew where you had to go. you felt the urge to run to cedric and ask him any and all questions you could think of.

basically sprinting to the hufflepuff common room without look extremely suspicious to any onlookers, you tapped the barrell and the door to the common room opened with one swift movement. you walked through the threshold and glanced at the fellow housemates and gave them warm smiles and they wished you a happy birthday.

“thanks guys, anyone know where cedric might be?” you asked, slightly out of breath and looking more frazzeled than one should look on their seventeenth birthday.

“is the birthday girl looking for me?” you heard a voice from the boys dormitory stairs call out. your nerves calmed and you spun around looking at cedric who had a wide smile on his face. “happy birthday , (y/n/n)! i got you this.”

you took a small box from cedrics hands and gave him a big smile, the stressful thought being pushed to the back of your head for a moment. you untied the white ribbon from the silver box and lifted the top to see three bars of honeydukes best chocolate and lifted it to see a picture frame. in the picture was a picture of you and cedric hysterically laughing at whatever joke was told at the time, looking as happy as ever. the frame was an off-white color with sage green vines designed around it. you smiled widely and glanced up at him with tears brimming your eyes.

“it’s beautiful, cedric. i love it!” you responded, placing the box to the nearest table and wrapping your arms around his neck and squeezing. he returned the hug and you could feel the vibrations of his body as he must’ve chuckled. you pulled away still smiling.

“was there something specific you were looking for me for? was it about your pen?” cedric inquired as if he literally read your mind. you heart rate increased slightly, as the previous moment passed and you grabbed the smaller box on the table next to your new gift. you held it in your hands and you looked up at him.

“so all i know right now is that i’m younger. they wrote something and it showed up on my forearm and i kinda freaked out. what does that mean?” you asked, switching your glance back and forth from his eyes searching for answers as soon as possible. he sensed your stress and placed both of his hands on your shoulders.

“okay, first off, ease your nerves a little bit. it’s not going to help.” he stated and you felt your shoulders relax themselves and took a deep breath. “assuming that you got the writing on your arm specifically means that he wrote it on his arm as well. he probably did it to remember something and has no idea that you even got it yet. what did it say?”

“balderdash?” you said in more of a question, wondering if that was the right word and what it could’ve meant. cedric’s own eyebrows furrowed together and his mouth opened slightly to speak but closed soon to take a second to think. you bit your lip and tried to maneuver your mind through this internal maze to figure out what that could possibly mean.

“i think i’m being too narrowminded right now. i’m trying to connect it to someone at hogwarts when it could literally be almost anyone in the world, right?” you asked, your heart sinking at the thought that maybe your soulmate wasn’t at hogwarts right now. you instinctively cracked your fingers and threw your head back.

“look anything is possible. but i could have sworn i heard that word recently.” cedric stated his own eyes darting around the room as his brain tried to make sense of things. “until something sparks in my mind, try writing back to him? this should be exciting, don’t stress yourself, love.”

you gave him a small smile and nodded slowly before licking your lips and reaching for the marble pen. your took a deep breath, a smile forming on your lips coming to the realization that this is a memorable moment.

wow i finally get to talk to you.

you wrote on your forearm, glitter trailing after the pen’s tip and soon leading to plain black ink before slowly disappearing. you paused and could practically hear the blood pumping in your ears.

oh my god. happy birthday, love. finally!

you giggled aloud and showed cedric who failed to hide his own smile and looked at you, “see! nothing to be worried about!” you felt more at ease and dazed as you were literally talking to your soulmate.

footsteps pulled you out of the small trance you had at your forearm as the ink disappeared. you looked up and saw malia with a wide grin on her face. “(y/n)! happy birthday!” you giggled and thanked her, pulling her into a hug.

“oh my god! your pen! have you written anything yet? have they written anything yet? ahh! this is so exciting, i’m so happy for you.” malia basically squealed. a smirk rose upon your lips, realizing how literally perfect she was for cedric and you nodded.

“they wrote bladerdash earlier and than i kind of froze and freaked out but i wrote and he wrote back!” you announced, happiness oh so evident in your tone and a blush rising to your cheeks. malia tucked a piece of hair behind her hair.

“balderdash? if i’m not mistaken, angelina said to me that was the gryffindor common room password. they’re holding a bit of a secret party before classes on monday and said to invite a few people and let myself in.” malia exclaimed, putting the pieces together to your puzzle. an overwhelming feeling you soon determined was excitement bubbled inside you as you listened to her. gryffindor? so they have to be a student at hogwarts!

“ooh, got yourself a bit of a brave one there, don’t you (y/n/n)?” cedric teased, wiggling his eyebrows. you held the pen in your hand a little tighter, eager to write on something. you grabbed the nearest piece of parchment, completely over having to write on your own skin and saw the glitter emitting immediately from the tip of the pen.

balderdash? afraid you were going to forget your common room password, huh?

you giggled at your sarcasm and wittiness and looked back up at the couple in front of you. they shared your excitement and cedric spoke up, “i hate to break this up but why don’t we go down to breakfast? i’m sure people wanna see the birthday girl.”

hogwarts student, eh? this’ll be easy.

you blushed and rolled your eyes, realizing the birthday attention was going to significantly increase today because of your new little pen. you clicked the pen and put it back into the box, grabbing the parchment, hoping what he had to say would appear on their instead of your forearm. “let me get jada and than i’m ready when you are!” you raced upstairs to grab one of your roommates and the four of you made your way to the great hall to reconnect with the rest of your house.

as you stood in front of the great hall doors, it hit you right then and there that there was a great chance your soulmate would be sitting at the gryffindor table right now, that is if they enjoy breakfast. you gulped obviously and looked over at cedric who was next to you.

“don’t get too freaked out. they’re going to be just as excited as you are.” cedric calmed you down, acknowledging the nerves you were clearly emitting.

“i’m not the best with change. and what if they see everyone wishing me a happy birthday and come up to confront me. or worse what happens if they don’t say anything at all and are embarrassed?”

cedric said nothing but gave you a look that said that you were overthinking it. he pulled you in for a brotherly hug and you two made your way into the great hall, your eyes only slightly darting to the gryffindor table a couple of times to play it cool.

you sat with your friends who were all extremely interested in your pen and tried to make their own guesses on who it may be. “it has to be someone in gryffindor obviously, and older than you!” you let your eyes trail to the table and tried to weed out who it may be until you heard a slight explosion come from the slytherin table. slytherin students were fleeing the spot, their shirts covering their noses and gryffindor students laughing at their rivals evacuate from the spots. you spotted the weasley twins high five each other and put together it was one of their up and coming dungbombs. they were both laughing and you couldn’t help but chuckle as well but subtly wanted to make sure the slytherin students were okay.

“ugh, if you got one of the weasely twins, you would be so fucking lucky!” your friend lola exclaimed, basically swooning at the thought of them. you grinned and rolled your eyes playfully before taking one last sip of orange juice and rising from the hufflepuff table.

“i’m stuffed, anyone wanna go to hogsmeade?” you announced and you friends agreed immediately. you snuck the marble pen out of your pocket as you made your way out of the great hall and opened your palm.

see you at the gryffindor party later?

the glittery remnants disappearing along with the black in. your palm tickled as you looked down at the quick response.

can’t wait.

#fred weasley imagines #fred weasley #fred weasley x #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley x hufflepuff!reader #Harry Potter #harry potter imagines #harry potter imagines #george weasley imagines #hp imagines #hp writing #ron weasley imagines #soulmate au

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stubbychaos · 4 years

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A Guilty Conscience

Chapter 10 of Saviin’ika

Masterlist

Pairing: Paz Vizsla x Nurse!Reader

Summary: While you get used to your new role in the tribe, you make it your mission to meet the ones who are to be your family. While befriending some unlikely members of the tribe, Paz later surprises you with something that he thinks will make you happy, though it ends up having the opposite effect.

Rating: T

Word Count: 14,000 *Y’all idk how this happened, I’m so sorry lol*

Warnings: Some unresolved sexual tension, minor injuries and reader still dealing with a bunch of past trauma. Other than that, this chapter is pretty harmless!

Just a quick mention: Thank you as always to @datmando for inspiring me and giving me so many amazing ideas for this story!! You’ve helped me so much with this story and getting through writer’s block and I freaking love you <3 Thank you as well to @aerynwrites @hdlynnslibrary and @maybege for all being wonderful and I love you all for motivating me to write more Paz!!

Also thank you to @coredrive for the beautiful gifs you made!! If anyone wants quality gifs for their stories, masterlists, etc... please go to Kat because she was so freaking lovely and sweet!!

“Would you like one of my shirts, ner cyare?”

You turn around, coming face to face with an unarmored Paz who is sitting on the foot of the bed, his forearms lazily resting on top of his thighs as he observes the way you hopelessly shift the torn, silky fabric in your hands. You turn to face the culprit who is currently curled up in a white rocky ball close to the furnace in the main area of Paz’s private quarters, seeming completely unbothered and not regretful that she had used your only sleep attire as a chewing toy while you were in the shower and Paz was talking to the armorer.

“That would be nice, thank you,” You murmur softly, watching with a smile as he promptly stands and makes his way over to the dresser near his bed while you discard the torn, silky fabric.

Though a few days have passed since the fight without incident--much to your appreciation--you notice Paz acting differently around you and while it’s not in a bad way by any means, it still has your curiosity growing. You notice how he almost seems worried about letting you stray too far from him, though you’re certain it’s not because he’s concerned one of his own will hurt you again, but perhaps he has the same fears you hold in your very own heart. While you’ve only been with the tribe for three days, you find yourself getting less sleep with every passing day, afraid that when you wake up, you’ll be right back at the village infirmary with your estranged father.

Perhaps he’s anxious that if he lets you out of his sight, you’ll randomly decide to leave without a word or trace.

The thought amuses you and also fills your heart with grief, wondering how the Mandalorian could possibly conjure the thought of you even thinking about leaving the place that had quickly become your safe haven.

“I’m going to shower, if you want to change,” Paz gruffly voices as he approaches you with a thick, black garment and you perk up a little upon feeling how warm it is--how warm it will keep you.

Once the Mandalorian is in the refresher, you’re quick to strip your clothes, smiling softly as you neatly fold the emerald, long-sleeved dress that Ima had found for you in a designated stack of clothes that wasn’t being worn by anyone in the tribe. Once you are only in your shorts, you grab Paz’s black shirt that he must wear over all his padding and sheepishly tug it over your head, instantly relishing in how it smells just like him--all woodsy and spicy and just like the soap he uses. The material is incredibly thick, though it’s not stiff and doesn’t make it feel like you’re suffocating; it feels soft and comforting against your bare skin, engulfing you so warmly just like one of his embraces, though you still long for the intense pressure of his arms around you. The sleeves that usually come to an end just above his elbows now fall just a few inches above your wrists and the hem skims the middle of your thighs.

As you sit on the edge of the bed and get to work on tending to your braids and all the tangles from the hair you had chosen to leave down, you think of how surreal everything still feels and how all the horrors you had ever dreamed about running away from are currently above you in the village. You try your hardest not to think about it, and instead, your mind wanders to the tribe and its intimidating, rambunctious warriors that you’ve been interacting with in the covert for the past few days.

It’s been… an interesting experience, to say the least.

For people who you used to be terrified of until recently, you think it’s somewhat surprising as well as amusing that Paz had been correct when he mentioned them being quite mischievous when it came to you, though you’re certain most of it comes from you being an outsider and not understanding their language. It had already happened a couple times where you would be exploring the enclave, trying to memorize the tunnels and where different ones led, and you would run into a small group of Mandos speaking in their native tongue as you shyly approached them to introduce yourself.

Most of the time they would simply peer down at you while informing you that they already knew who you were--that they had seen you standing your ground against Paz, which apparently nobody in the tribe had ever really done before. It was quite interesting seeing everyone’s perspective towards their heavy-infantry warrior, how they knew him to be one of the strongest in the tribe and how they respected him for it. However, it was also slightly amusing that they seemed to have no problem making jokes at his expense--talking about how they were glad you were at the covert so he would stop being grouchy and angry all the time.

Ima, you found, was the exact same way, although she had no qualms about berating the man she called her uncle to his face.

Seeing the way the teenager and your blue warrior interacted with one another felt like some sort of special phenomenon that you had never really witnessed before--a relationship stronger than that between a sister and a brother, but not quite as profound as one between a daughter and father. You thought uncle and niece was a good way to describe it and though you’re curious as to why Ima doesn’t call anyone else in the tribe ‘brother’ or ‘sister’, you decide it’s better not to ask for the sake of accidentally bringing up a sad memory.

You’re too deep into your thoughts that you don’t notice a hulking figure emerge from the refresher minutes later, a few water droplets dripping down his shoulders and back as he mindlessly observes you combing through your hair with your fingers.

A small cough startles you and you turn your head to gaze at Paz, his helmet slightly tilted to the side as he stares at you through the guise of that unforgiving visor. Your fingers are still threaded in your damp hair, your bare legs dangling off the side of his bed with your sock-clad toes barely skimming the stone floor as you blink owlishly at him, still not used to seeing him expose so much of his skin.

He’s not saying anything and it has you slightly worried--have you done something wrong?

“Paz, are you okay?”

His bare, broad shoulders tense upwards when you shift on the bed, finally working through a stubborn tangle as you tilt your head at him; you find yourself doing that a lot more lately and you think being surrounded by so many Mandalorians has their little mannerisms rubbing off on you.

You move to get up when he doesn't say anything, now worried that you really have done something wrong, but Paz shakes his head and squashes your worries immediately.

"No--I mean, yes," He huffs and shakes his helmet a little harder when you stand up next to the bed to pull the thick fur away from the pillows it's tucked under while he moves to turn off the lights, "I'm fine, just a little tired, cyare."

You nod your understanding, feeling your own exhaustion creeping up on you, though today had been a relatively easy day in regards to treating scrapes and bruises. You’ve come to find that some of the younger, less trained Mandalorians aren’t exactly the most graceful on their feet, some tripping over their own capes while descending staircases, while others who are less skilled with blades or blasters manage to slip up and injure themselves. It’s definitely not the kind of injuries you’re used to tending--minor ones--but you find it much more pleasant and rewarding than your job in the village, especially when everyone here has treated you politely, for the most part.

You know that even while you had been accepted into the tribe, it doesn’t quite make you part of the family to some, especially to those who still felt as though you should swear the creed to be fully accepted. It was a big detail you had worried about quite a bit, whether or not you would have to swear the creed and wear a helmet just as the rest of them, but you think that perhaps it is a topic you should speak to the armorer about.

You slide underneath the heavy fur and exhale a content sigh, reminding yourself that such worries could wait until morning.

A yawn leaves you just as you hear the quiet hiss of Paz’s helmet being removed before he places it on his nightstand and a tired smile stretches your lips when you feel the mattress dip underneath the weight of the warrior’s body.

Before you can even turn to face him, his huge arm is wrapped around your waist and he’s carefully moving you closer to him; an intense warmth spreads throughout your cheeks when he holds you close, your back pressed firmly against his chest as he wastes no time in placing a kiss to the top of your damp hair. You can feel the heat from his bare chest already spreading throughout your entire body and you curl your legs back to press your feet against his bare ankles.

He lets out a small huff as he curls his fingers into the soft material of his shirt covering your abdomen and leans down to press a tender kiss to your cheek, “You are lucky I love you, or else I would not let you wear socks in our bed.”

The ‘our bed’ comment definitely doesn’t go over your head and you hold back a giggle when he sighs against your warm skin, his thumb stroking firm circles near your belly button, “I cannot help it that my feet are always cold.”

His chest rumbles with a soft laugh as he settles behind you, his hand moving a little lower to your hip, just underneath where your cauterized wound is still healing, and he gives you a gentle squeeze, “I told you that you’d do nothing to warm our bed up, mesh’la, I knew I was right. You’re always freezing.”

“If I recall correctly, you told me that you would not mind keeping me warm,” You remind him of what he had said the night he had told you his name, your cheeks growing hot when you feel his lips against the outer shell of your ear, “And you are doing no such thing, ori kebiin.”

“You are a funny woman,” Paz is still trying not to laugh as his hand comes up to cup your jaw, long fingers splayed widely against your burning cheeks, “You feel plenty warm to me, sweetheart.”

Realizing that there’s no way of beating the Mandalorian at his own game, you give up and simply shuffle your curled toes between his calves, making him grunt a little when he feels the blocks of ice that are your sock-clad feet through the material of his sleep pants. He cups your jaw and urges your head to the side a little, using his thumb that’s pressed to the corner of your lips to seek them out with his own.

This close intimacy is certainly another thing you’ve noticed since you forgave him after the fight--him wanting to kiss and touch you whenever it’s just the two of you. It’s definitely something you don’t mind, you realize as his tongue firmly swipes across your bottom lip, and you find yourself growing more comfortable and relaxed when it comes to accepting little touches from him. You can tell that it’s something he’s nervous about when you two are just laying in his bed, wide awake when sleep refuses to wrap itself around the two of you--that he’s worried something he does will set you off.

He always tries to keep his touches to your thighs and hips feather-light after politely asking if it’s okay for him to touch you there and a part of you wonders if he’s already concluded that you’re simply not used to people asking you for consent when it comes to certain things.

Even if it’s not the reason why, you’re still grateful he always asks and his consideration fills your heart with warmth whenever he seems so hellbent on making sure you’re comfortable when you two find yourself in these sort of intimate settings. It doesn’t necessarily feel like it’s him testing your boundaries, but more so him seeing what you like and what gets certain noises out of you, though you find your skin quite sensitive to every nip and lick he inflicts on you.

A part of you is grateful that he usually lies on his back when the two of you are holding one another, as the thought of being pinned underneath anyone again, even your blue warrior, lingers like a storm cloud in the back of your mind.

Currently, however, you focus on the way his fingers tentatively curl around your thigh, just below the hem of the shirt he had given you and your lashes flutter as he guides your head back a little so he has more access to your throat. He seems a little more eager tonight, you think, and as his fingers curl into the thick fabric at your thighs while he dutifully presses tender kisses to your sensitive skin, you start to slowly put the pieces together.

“Paz?” His name comes out in the form of a breathy whisper as he settles back to press a kiss into your damp hair.

He still seems slightly dazed as he brings his arm back to curl tightly around your waist, “Hm?”

“Earlier, when you were staring at me when you came out of the shower,” You grin a little when you feel the way his arms tense around your middle, “Was it… is it because I’m wearing your shirt?”

Paz huffs an amused noise and you’re certain you’ve left him flustered for once as he slowly shifts his body until he’s able to rest his chin against the slope of your neck, “I like the way you look in anything, cyare, but something about seeing you wearing my clothes--it does things to me. I can’t say that I am upset that your vulptex tore up your nightgown, not with how beautiful you look right now.”

“You can’t even see me right now, silly man.”

“I don’t need to,” He mumbles, his beard scratching your sensitive skin as he lazily tends to all the little marks he left behind with his lips and teeth the previous night, “I remember everything about you, ner cyare, like how your eyes always get big whenever you see me taking off my armor and my clothes. Perhaps my sweet little nurse isn’t as innocent as I thought.”

You nearly let out with a whimper when you feel his tongue on your skin, your cheeks burning furiously as his hand cautiously grazes up your thigh, “Is this okay?”

His tepid breath fanning along the column of your throat makes you shiver a little and your voice cracks a little when you speak, “Y-Yeah.”

“Yeah?” He repeats with a soft sigh, his hand moving past the little shorts you typically wear to bed and up to your bare hip, just underneath where your blaster wound is still tender, though not nearly causing you as much pain, “Stars, your skin is so damn soft and your hair smells good--just like those flowers you’re always wearing.”

You let your eyes close as he continues to explore your stomach with feather-like strokes, seeming content to simply warm you with his large hand and you feel your thighs clench together firmly when he rubs a sensitive spot just underneath your belly button. His hands are leaving a scorching blaze in their wake and you feel a deep shudder wrack your body upon feeling the wet, open-mouthed kisses he’s leaving just underneath your earlobe.

Despite the ache between your thighs, you jump when his fingertips barely graze just above the hem of your shorts and he immediately freezes upon feeling the tension in your body.

“I’m sorry,” Your ears grow hot with shame and you think he must be frustrated with you for not feeling ready to be intimate on this kind of level yet, “I just--”

“Hey, don’t you dare ever apologize for knowing when you’re not ready,” He whispers, moving his lips away from your jaw and removing his hand from underneath the shirt he let you borrow, “I shouldn’t have done that--I should have asked first.”

“It’s okay,” You weakly reassure him, smiling softly when he politely fixes your shirt, dragging the hem back down your thighs, “I... I want to be with you like that and I thought I was ready but I... I don’t know.”

“You do not owe me an explanation. I would never pressure you into doing anything you don’t want to do,” Paz promises in a rushed tone as he moves to unlatch his arm from around you, though you are quick to stop him, “I am sorry if I was too forward, cyare. I want you to only ever feel comfortable around me and if I ever do or say anything that you don’t like, please tell me, okay? I’ll never be mad at you.”

“I love you, Paz.”

He relaxes against you and presses another tender kiss into the hair above the tip of your ear, “Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum, ner cyare.”

You smile into the darkness at the warmth his words bring you, though you can’t help but to feel doubt towards yourself and you turn your head a little over your shoulder until his warm breath fans across the plane of your cheek. Even though you can’t see him in the slightest, you like to imagine his eyes scanning your face thoughtfully--curiously--and you hear him let out an inquisitive hum when you murmur his name.

“I haven’t been able to sleep the last couple of days,” You admit softly, placing your hand on top of the much larger one that’s resting just under your sternum, “I’m scared that every night here is going to be my last one--that someone isn’t going to want me here because I haven’t sworn to the creed and that I don’t wear a helmet or armor.”

Paz exhales softly and you close your eyes when his minty breath tickles your nostrils, “Our alor already knows that you were to be brought to the tribe to be our nurse, not a fighter. I made it clear to everyone that you would not have to wear our armor and if anyone has a problem with it, they can take it up with me or the armorer. You’re not going anywhere… not if you don’t want to.”

You detect the way his voice lowers into a much more sheepish, subdued tone upon whispering the last part and your suspicions from earlier are proved correct.

He’s afraid that you’re going to change your mind about staying with the tribe.

In an attempt to squash his own fears and insecurities, you wrap your fingers around his wrist and urge his arm up past your chest until you are able to lean your head down a little and kiss his calloused knuckles tenderly. He lets out a content sigh as you let him splay his fingers out widely against the swell of your breast, your heart pounding frantically against his palm while his thumb studies your firm pulse at the base of your neck.

“I just want to be wherever you are, Paz,” You murmur, your lips stretching into a smile when he tenderly kisses your cheek again.

“I feel the same way about you,” He sighs, finally relaxing completely as you keep his hand cradled to your chest, “Anything else you’re losing sleep over, cyare?”

For a moment it sounds like he’s teasing you, but something about the rawness and sincerity of his voice makes you think differently and you swallow the lump in your throat as you think of the little boy from the nursery--the one that had clung onto your leg and hugged you. Though a part of you wants to ask Paz more about how he was found and what happened to his parents, you think it best not to ask and shake your head a little bit.

It is none of your business.

“Try to get some rest,” Paz murmurs against your cheek, his beard scratching your sensitive skin, “I’ll make sure to wake you up if you have any nightmares.”

You murmur a tired ‘thank you’ and let your eyes slip shut, feeling reassured by his words and the feathery press of his lips against the tail of your brow, along with the way his thumb continues to rest atop your pulse point at the bottom of your neck.

For once, you sleep restfully--not necessarily dreaming of much, but not really having any nightmares either. You’re stuck in a strange limbo for the rest of the night and at one point, you feel Paz stroking your brow in an effort to calm you down upon feeling your body jolt when you wake from a strange dream that has you crying out.

As you fall back asleep underneath the comforting guidance of his hands and sweet whispers against the shell of your ear, you briefly wonder if the heavy-infantry warrior ever sleeps.

The next morning when you wake up and tiredly crack your eyes open, Paz is already fumbling around the little kitchenette, his helmet and underclothes now on and you prop yourself up on an elbow as you watch him set a wooden bowl down in front of your excited vulptex. The dish is filled with colorful fruit and chunks of meat and you think it must be the best meal she’s had since she was born, what with her dramatic reaction. She lets out long, happy little squeaks between bites and you think you hear something reminiscent of a laugh or a chuckle from Paz’s vocoder when he reaches out to graze a bare hand along her rocky spine.

“And here I thought you hated her,” You murmur with a yawn, stretching your arms above your head before gracelessly rolling out of bed, the room dimly lit as you make your way over to your beloved companions, “You and everyone else are always calling her a runt.”

Paz snorts and shakes his head a little, tilting his head a little as he hands you a bowl of fruit that has some yogurt underneath, “She is a runt, saviin--doesn’t mean I hate her for it. Besides, she tried to bite Djarin in the leg yesterday, so I guess she’s starting to grow on me.”

You huff a little at that as you savor the fresh berries, your taste buds still not used to such sweet food, and you shake your head at your Mandalorian, “You better not be training my sweet vulptex to attack others, Paz.”

“I would do no such thing,” Paz still sounds a little smug as he begins to put on all of his thick padding and heavy armor, “I’d only train her how to attack the bounty hunter.”

You roll your eyes and watch as he puts his armor on piece by piece, the same way he’s done it every morning for the last couple of days he’s been here. It must be a routine for him, you think as you watch him clip his pauldrons in place and work his way down his body; you find the whole process to be mesmerizing and you wonder if he’s been doing this every single day for nearly his entire life.

“I can feel you staring at me, cyare.”

You feel your cheeks warm up when you promptly turn your attention to the breakfast that Paz had kindly made for you, though you had insisted the previous mornings that you didn’t expect him to do this for you. Your heart warms when you remember how he had admitted that it made him happy to see you enjoy little basic necessities that you had been robbed of nearly your entire life and you stopped arguing after that.

Though it was only yogurt and fruit, you still felt like the most spoiled woman in the galaxy.

After completing your usual morning routine, along with braiding the top half of your hair around the crown of your head, you pick out your clothes for the day and scoop your needy little vulptex into the crook of your elbow, her favorite resting place, it seems.

“What am I going to do when she gets too big and I can’t carry her like this?”

Paz snorts as you wait for him to snap his gauntlets into place around his black, leather gloves, “If you didn’t spoil her so much and carry her around all the time, this wouldn’t be a problem, cyare.”

You pout a little at that, struggling not to smile when he gives your earlobe a playful tug once he’s finished with his big gauntlets, “Her leg is still sore--would you really be so heartless to make her walk around the covert?”

“She seemed to have no problem limping around until you showed up and started carrying her all over the place.”

Not having a solid rebuttal to the playful words, you simply shake your head and watch as he checks all the big pouches attached to his utility belt. Your eyes immediately land on the vibroblade sheathed at his hip and you let out a shaky sigh when you remember the Trandoshan, though Paz seems to notice the change in your attitude and shields that side of his body from you.

“C’mon cyare, we have a long day.”

Following close behind Paz, the two of you make your way out of his private quarters and down the tunnels where others are starting to trickle out of their rooms as well. You’ve come to find that with the exception of a few Mandos, the tribe tends to stick to a pretty strict routine of going to bed at a certain time and waking up earlier, though you find this to work out quite nicely for you. Whereas once you were getting two or three hours of sleep a night, along with maybe a thirty minute nap on your break, you now have the entire night to rest, even if you don’t always get the best sleep.

Perhaps he’s worried that you’ll get lost, even though you memorized the directions to your little office on the second day of being at the covert, but you allow Paz to guide you there anyways, grateful for his company when you know you won’t see him until tonight. Though you feel slightly sad upon making it to your destination, you’re somewhat anxious and eager to see what today brings you and who you might meet.

With a gentle kiss of his Beskar forehead against yours, you and the heavy-infantry warrior part ways for the day and you contentedly enter the little office that you had managed to clean up pretty well since your arrival. As you enter the little alcove, something feels off and you quickly detect the sounds of soft hums and discontented grunts.

You freeze upon finding out that you are not the only one occupying the room and your brows shoot up at the strange spectacle taking place in front of you.

In front of your desk, where you had placed a small pot of violets that you’d taken from the room Paz and Ima had decorated for you, is an unarmored Mandalorian who’s currently inspecting something you wrote down on a little notepad the previous day. Though the Mando is wearing a light grey helmet with chipped away emeral trimmings around the visor and cheeks, you think they must be one of the elders in the tribe, what with their hunched over form, wavering hands, and the long staff they wield.

You don’t miss the sharp, pointed tip of the walking stick that is made from what you’re certain is Beskar and you make sure to approach slowly, not wanting to frighten the Mandalorian, though the thought of you startling a warrior is slightly amusing to you.

They’re humming something that you can barely make out through their modulator and your lips instantly stretch into a faint grin when you realize they’re reading the little list you had started of all the Mandalorians you had met in the tribe so far, along with the colors of their armor and their names to help you memorize the people who are supposed to be your new family. You watch with curiosity as the unarmored Mandalorian grabs one of your pens from the little cup next to your notepad, leaning down to try to scribble something down, though they seem to grow frustrated with how shaky their hands are.

You decide to step in when you hear a disgruntled voice uttering curse words under their breath that you’ve never even heard Paz say before and your cheeks grow warm.

“Hello, may I help you?”

Immediately, the Mandalorian whips around with a small gasp, making you jump as well and you hastily take a few steps backwards when they turn around to face you, their hand pressed tight to where their heart must be frantically pounding, just like yours currently is. Your eyes are wide, hands nervously clutched together as the Mandalorian tilts their faded, scuffed up helmet to the side while observing you closely. Though you think they must be elderly, they stand about only one or two inches taller than you and you’re finally grateful to meet someone who isn’t terrifyingly large or as tiny as one of the younglings.

“You cannot sneak up on me like that!” He lightly admonishes in a deep, gruff voice, still holding his bare, wrinkled hand over his heart, “I am not nearly as alert as I used to be, but it doesn’t mean I can’t deal out some damage still.”

He lifts the staff to show you the pointed, steel bottom of it and you immediately nod your understanding, bowing your head a little, “Of course, I am so sorry! I wasn’t sure if you were hurt or not and I just thought…”

You bite your bottom lip nervously--what were you even thinking?

“Ah, I see,” He seems to relax then, pulling out the chair in front of your desk and sinking down into it with a pained grunt while you continue to wring your fingers together in an anxious manner, “So you must be my replacement--the nurse Paz insisted on bringing to the tribe.”

Maker, did your Mandalorian actually tell the entire damn tribe about you?

Your leg bounces as soon as you take a seat at the end of the medical cot and you brush a few unruly hairs from your forehead before speaking to the elderly man, “I wouldn’t necessarily call myself a replacement, sir. I’m sure I could never be as good of a medic as you are for your people. I’m just here to help out as much as I can.”

He chuckles and shakes his helmet at your humbled statement, propping his steel cane against his thigh and you feel a twinge of sadness deep within your soul as he stares down at his trembling hands. You notice his right hand is trembling more than the left and you think that must be his dominant hand--the one he would typically use for certain medical procedures--and you remember what Paz had mentioned about the tribe’s medic growing too ill and shaky to actually help others.

‘No wonder why the office was so dusty and everything was unused,’ you think to yourself sorrowfully, your eyes taking in all the big dents and scuff marks on his gray and crimson helmet.

“Hey, don’t give me those sad eyes, little one,” He admonishes you again and though you don’t remember having any kind of grandparent in your life, you think being scolded by this man must be what it feels like to have one, “I was told by Paz that you are a tough one--a warrior, just like us.”

You offer him a wry smile, “I suppose he didn’t tell you that I tend to cry quite a bit as well?”

“Oh, he definitely mentioned that,” The Mandalorian chortles and you can’t help but to grin at that, immediately feeling better at how playful he sounds, “I was hoping he was messing around with me--our people aren’t exactly the best with tears and emotions, but I suppose it is not a bad thing. During times like these, the tribe could use a little more happiness and vulnerability.”

You contemplate his words deeply, thinking of the few times Paz had informed you that because of the Empire, his people were nearly extinct and you wonder how this stranger could so easily accept you into the tribe without really knowing you. Seeing how worn out and damaged his dented helmet is, you can’t help but to wonder what he’s been through and though he seems to be more of an eccentric member of the tribe, you’re certain he’s been through hell and back.

“If you do not mind me asking--” You offer him a fond gaze, your smile growing when he tilts his helmet dramatically to the side, his Beskar cheek nearly touching his shoulder, “May I have your name? I am trying to learn who everyone is, but the visors are all the same and sometimes the color of armor is similar and--”

“I get it,” The older man sounds like he’s amused and you briefly wonder if he was once an outsider like you, though you find it rude to ask, “I was about to write it in your little notebook, but I fear my hands are too unsteady for you to understand my writing, little one.”

You perk up and quickly stand up, making your way over to where he’s sitting before you crouch down in front of your desk and grab one of the several pens in the little cup near your notebook. The Mandalorian makes a funny noise as you give him an inquisitive glance, wordlessly asking for his name with a quirk of your brow and though he wears a typical Mandalorian helmet, you think he must be grinning underneath his Beskar guise.

“Ezir Ralas.”

You somehow manage to write down his name as fast as he spells it out for you and you grin at how demanding he sounds upon spelling every single letter out and how he describes the exact colors of his faded helmet. There’s something about his lighthearted tone that makes you think he’s not as intimidating as every other warrior you’ve encountered since being brought to the covert.

“Well, it is lovely to meet you, sir,” You beam at him as you make your way back to the medical cot to sit on while you wait for your first patient of the day, “Have you been the tribe’s nurse for very long?”

He chuckles again, long fingers curling against his knees, “Oh yes, I’ve been with the tribe since we were forced into hiding years ago. Before all of this, however, I was a field medic for my people on Mandalore, back during our civil war.”

“Oh, I um, I had no idea there was a civil war,” You frown at this new information, briefly wondering if Paz knows about this, though you think he must, “That must have been so scary to be out there on a battlefield, trying to save your own people.”

He lets out a small grunt as he leans forward to rest his forearms atop his thighs, “Even though I am a medic, I was also born and raised a fighter, little one. Though the things I have seen haunt me at night when I cannot sleep, I would not so willingly admit that I was ever afraid.”

You slowly nod and gaze down at the steel pendant that hangs between his collarbones and you recognize it as the one you often see around the covert, or in the morning when Paz tucks his own into the collar of his tunic. Seeming to recognize your curiosity towards the skull sigil, he unties the knot at his nape and holds out the necklace for you to inspect up close.

With great eagerness, you reach forward to accept the kind gesture, “Is it rude of me to ask what this is?”

“It is not rude,” Ezir sounds amused by your curiosity and your cheeks grow warm as you trace over the sharp horns protruding from the cheeks of the skull with your thumbs, “It is the skull of a beast that was once native to Mandalore--the mythosaur. They were these enormous monsters with teeth and horns sharper than a sword made of Beskar and when they tried to attack my ancestors, we either slayed them or conquered them and rode them as transportation.”

“How big were they?”

“Massive,” He flippantly waves a hand in the air, appearing far too nonchalant while speaking of terrifying beasts, “Well, I would imagine they’re the size of the village currently above us, little one.”

Your eyes grow wide and a chuckle escapes past his modulator at how incredulous you sound, “And you’re ancestors fought them?”

“Without hesitation,” He informs you and though the image of a monster so fearsome and enormous terrifies you, it also fills you with feelings of reverence and awe, “After the beasts went extinct, the mythosaur skull became a symbol of our people and all that we had overcome; it is a symbol of our history and culture.”

You hum quietly, barely noticing the way his tilted visor is trained on the way you tenderly trace all the curves and divots of the pendant with admiration, a smile tugging at your lips as you think of the symbolism behind the sigil. Suddenly, you understand why people have always murmured terrifying rumors of the Beskar-clad enigmas and you think it must be true that they’re the strongest warriors in the galaxy. You wonder what it must feel like to exude such power to the point where people fear you without even knowing who you are and though you still regret feeling so much terror upon initially meeting Paz, you’re suddenly grateful that you’d eventually let him into your heart.

“Perhaps one day, you will have one of your own,” Ezir concedes and your head snaps up to peer at him with shock; you hand the pendant back out for him to take, feeling undeserving to be holding something so precious to his people, “Oh, don’t give me that look. You may not wear our helmet or armor, but once I teach you some Mando’a and get a weapon in your hand, you’ll be a fearsome warrior.”

You think of what Paz had mentioned about the others in the tribe teaching you Mando’a, and while you’ve only known him for a few minutes, he seems to be a respectful man, albeit a little quirky.

“What does riduur mean?” You blurt out, your skin instantly growing warm when you see Ezir’s shoulders shaking as he laughs at the innocent question; suddenly, you fear that everyone has been saying something demeaning about you, “I just... everyone in the tribe keeps calling me ‘Paz’s riduur’ and I--it’s not an insult, right? They’re always laughing when they say it.”

He shakes his head as his laughter eventually ceases, “No, little one, it is quite the opposite of an insult, but rather a term of endearment. I do not think it is my place to tell you what it means and I am not sure if Paz has the guts to actually tell you, but I can say that I am certain you will find out for yourself one day when he calls you that himself.”

Your leg bounces anxiously as you watch him situate his mythosaur pendant between his collarbones and as you think of all the meanings that the word possibly possesses, one stands out to you the most.

“Is it something I would be allowed to say to him as well in the future?”

“Yes,” He reaches down to pet your vulptex that’s awkwardly making her way towards his boots, sounding utterly entertained by your inquiry, “Though I cannot promise you that his brain wouldn’t combust if he heard you call him that.”

“Then perhaps I would call him that as payback for all the times he’s teased me about certain things.”

Ezir guffaws at that, remaining diligent in petting the lazy vulptex that’s headbutting his calf in a needy manner, “I like you, little one. I almost didn’t believe Ima when she told me you had stopped the fight between Din and Paz, let alone when she informed me that you had stood up for yourself and the bounty hunter.”

You watch as the older man awkwardly scoops the little vulptex into his arms and you’re grateful that not many seem to mind her presence in the covert, as you’re not sure what you would have done had you been forced to get rid of her.

“I have been belittled by men all my life,” You shyly admit, staring at the little creature that’s reaching up in an attempt to bite his pendant, though Ezir doesn’t seem bothered in the slightest as you continue, “And for the longest time, I just learned to keep my mouth shut and deal with it because that’s just the way I was raised, I suppose. These last couple of days have taught me that it does not make me a bad person for only wanting to be treated with respect and my only regret is that I did not realize this sooner in life. Perhaps I’d be a stronger woman if I had realized my worth at a younger age.”

No longer is Ezir petting the vulptex, but instead, he now has his visor trained on you and in return, you offer him a small smile. He remains deathly silent for at least a minute before giving you a curt nod, as though he approves of either you or just your declaration in general.

“In our language, we have a word that I think perfectly describes you, little one,” His gruff, filtered voice drops to something softer as he watches you perk up with curiosity, “Ramikadyc--it means that you have the tenacity and determination of a Mandalorian, that you have our mindset.”

Your heart instantly swells with gratitude and you shyly cross your ankles together as you wring your fingers together on top of your lap, “I would hardly compare myself to your people. I do not think I would have the tenacity or determination to fight against one of those mythosaurs that your ancestors slayed.”

“Something tells me you and I are not too different,” Ezir informs you with what you think is mirth laced within his deep voice, “I do not think you would hesitate to put yourself in harm’s way if it meant protecting someone you care for or someone you do not wish to see to get hurt.”

You smile softly and give him a slight nod as you think of the bounty hunter that you had stood up for, despite him not deserving it, or even your little vulptex that you had taken a blaster shot for. If Ezir truly thinks that you have the heart of a warrior, then he must be saying it for a good reason and his words, along with Ima’s and Paz’s confidence in you, fills you with a little more hope in regards to your future with the tribe.

“Will you tell me more about you?”

“I am afraid my stories might bore you to the point of insanity,” Ezir chuckles, shifting in his seat a little so he can hold your vulptex in a more comfortable position, “But since you seem so curious, what is it you wish to know, little one?”

“Can you tell me more about Mandalore and the civil--?”

Before you can finish, a deep baritone from the entrance of your office interrupts your inquiry and both you and Ezir immediately turn around to find your blue Mandalorian standing tall behind another unarmored Mando, though this one is still taller than you and Ezir. The smaller Mando is holding their wrist protectively against their chest and it takes a few seconds for you to recognize the warrior as one of the younger ones that seems to have a knack for constantly getting hurt during training.

“Saviin’ika,” Paz greets politely with a slight nod, cocking his helmet to the side upon noticing who’s been keeping you company in the short amount of time you two have been apart, “Ezir.”

You raise your brows at the way your warrior tenses up a little upon seeing the elderly man, though you manage to get in a word before any of the Mandalorians can say anything, your attention focused on the injured boy.

“Is your wrist hurt?”

The unarmored Mando peers up at Paz with what you think must be a wary expression through his visor--something that your warrior immediately picks up on. With absolutely no hesitation, the heavy-infantry warrior murmurs something to the younger Mando in his native tongue and you raise your head with anticipation and a kind smile. As though that’s all the confirmation of the young teenager--Vhan--needs, he nods a little and you slide off the end of the cot so your first patient of the day can sit down.

You give the boy a small, encouraging smile as he takes his glove off and pushes up his sleeve to reveal a swollen wrist, “What happened?”

“It was my fault,” Paz says immediately, making you raise your brows in surprise at the thought of him somehow hurting someone so young, “He was sparring with his brother and I looked away for a minute. He fell and landed right on his wrist.”

You frown a little at the guilt in his voice, though judging by the exasperated sigh that wafts past Vhan’s modulator, you think this must be a common occurrence amongst the younger ones who get hurt on Paz’s watch.

“Well, it’s hard to tell for sure without x-rays,” You manage to rotate Vhan’s wrist in the slightest, a gesture that seems to cause minimal pain to the boy, “But it looks like it’s just a minor sprain, since there seems to be no crooked bones and you can still move it around a little. Nothing too serious and nothing to feel bad about.”

Paz lets out a relieved huff at the news, though you know your blue warrior enough to know he’s not going to let the guilt down so easily, especially not when it pertains to one of the younger members of the tribe. A knowing grin stretches your lips when Vhan groans, and now you’re certain this isn’t the first time Paz has been worried like a mother hen over the clumsy teen. Though the blue warrior has quite the reputation among all the adults in the covert, it seems he also has a completely different persona when he’s with the younger ones.

“See? I told you it’s fine. Can I go back to training now?” Vhan insists, moving to hop off of the cot, though you are quicker to stop him by placing a gentle hand on his shoulder.

“Uh uh,” You shake your head, earning another groan from the teen and what you’re sure are surprised expressions from the two other men occupying the room, “Just because it’s a sprain doesn’t mean you can go running off just to damage it even further. You should at least rest it for forty-eight hours and put some ice on it every thirty minutes for two hours until the pain goes away. Also try to keep it elevated as much as possible.”

“That’s so much work for a little sprain though!” Vhan argues and you let out a soft sigh as you begin to compress his wrist with a thick bandage, “Can’t I just--”

“Hey!” Ezir suddenly sounds annoyed, and you’re surprised when the boy tenses up a little, just as Paz had earlier, and something about their reactions has you growing even more curious to what kind of reputation the elder has among his family, “Listen to the nurse, di’kut. She only wants what’s best for you.”

“Yes sir,” Vhan mumbles, though you can tell he’s still not happy about it when he turns his visor to you, “S-Sorry, Saviin’ika.”

You blink your surprise at him calling you the familiar nickname, but eventually you give him a kind smile and stand up to retrieve your roll of ice wraps, “Hey, it’s okay. I’m sure it must be difficult for you to miss out on training, but it really is for your own good. I don’t have the resources here to fix your wrist if it was seriously broken, so it’s detrimental to make sure that the sprain heals properly before doing any serious training again. Perhaps there is… um, maybe something else you can do in the meantime that’s not too strenuous?”

He perks up a little and hope instantly flares in your chest as he gives you an eager nod before turning to look at Paz, “You told me the other day that you would show me how to take apart an assault rifle and put it back together--would that be okay?”

Paz glances at you and the boy’s eager tone makes it hard for you to say no, so you give your warrior a reluctant nod as you finish tying the ice wrap around his swollen wrist, “Just as long as you make sure to not move your wrist around too much and keep the ice wrap on, okay?”

“Alright!” He’s instantly hopping off the cot and you chuckle at his newfound excitement, “Thanks vod’ika!”

You huff a little, opening your mouth to stubbornly remind him that you’re far older than him, though he cuts you off with a quick headbutt to your forehead; while it’s not too harsh of a harsh gesture, it’s certainly not as gentle as all the times Paz has performed the same action. You rub your tender forehead as Paz turns to the side a little so Vhan can make his way, presumably, to the armory. Paz shakes his helmet in an exasperated manner as he steps toward you, most likely to get a look at your forehead, but Ezir’s small grunts as he slowly stands up has your full attention.

Instinctively, you move to help the elder up from your office chair, noticing his slight struggle to stand and you force yourself not to cringe at the numerous pops and cracks coming from his knees and back. After a lifetime of fighting and being a medic, you’re certain it’s taken a toll on him, though he simply chuckles a little and pats your back as you both make your way over to Paz.

“I suppose I should take this as my sign to leave you to your duties for the day, verd’ika,” You beam at the new nickname as he carefully grabs onto your elbow for better balance while you lead him to the entrance where Paz is still standing with a cocked helmet, “I’ll have to look for my old medical books and datapads for you to read.”

“Oh, thank you!” Happiness and warmth instantly blankets your heart at his consideration, gratitude filling your soul when you realize that he seems to approve of you being the tribe’s new nurse, “I would love that very much, if it’s not too much of a hassle.”

“Of course not,” He gives your hand a little pat before latching onto a grumpy Paz’s elbow instead, “I’ll just make this one help me later since he can reach the higher shelves.”

“I have other things to--”

Jutting a thumb out in your direction over his shoulder, Ezir sends a rough little whack! of his walking stick to Paz’s armored shin, “It is good she is here with the tribe now--perhaps she can teach you and everyone else some manners, you big brute.”

“Yeah, ori kebiin,” You giggle in a teasing manner, earning a small grunt from the blue warrior, “Would it really kill you to learn a few manners?”

Ezir lets out a loud laugh that has Paz shaking his helmet at you, and though you know you’ll soon regret it, you think it’s worth the delightful torment he’ll inflict on you later when the two of you are alone. Without another word, Paz reaches out to give your nape a tender squeeze before leaving you alone to your thoughts in your little office, though you think that seeing Ezir and helping Vhan has already given you a bright start to your day.

With a faint smile stretched along your lips, you add a few comments to your little notepad and take inventory of the supplies you have and what you need for the next time Paz goes on a supply run. For the most part, the day goes by slowly and uneventfully--something you are actually grateful for, what with being so used to the chaos that came as a result of working in a village full of crime and those with cruel hearts.

Needless to say, you don’t mind a calm day in the slightest and when Ima passes your office hours later to politely inform you that training and sparring lessons are done for the day, you’re grateful that no serious injuries were sustained. Packing up your things and making sure your office is in order, you turn off the lights and exit your office, eager to explore the covert a little more and go to the room that Paz and Ima had decorated for you.

After conversing with a few of the Mandalorians you had befriended in the short amount of time you’ve been at the covert, you happily make your way down the stairs that you know leads to everyone’s private quarters, as well as the nursery and your little flower alcove.

You hum a mindless tune to yourself as you stroll down the long tunnel, smiling when the atmosphere gets a little warmer when you pass the shielded alcove that leads into the nursery; your walking slows a little and you’re half tempted to go inside and say hi to the little ones, though you don’t want to cause any chaos again, especially so late in the day. Reluctantly, you continue past the nursery and make your way to the little room Paz and Ima had decorated with your flowers, your vulptex resting comfortably in your arms as you two seek out relaxation.

“I need to think of a name for you, little one,” You murmur, earning a soft gaze from her, crimson eyes slowly blinking up at you, “Maybe I should ask one of the younglings to come up with one. They must be far more creative than me.”

She simply answers you with a dramatic huff as you continue down the path that Paz had already taken you down a few times.

You’re completely oblivious to the little footsteps following you far behind.

Finally, you make it to your beloved sanctuary and let out a relieved sigh upon seeing all your growing flowers and the lights that hang above them. Placing your little vulptex on the center of the desk where you had placed a little pillow for her, you dutifully water the plants and flowers that look like they need it the most. It’s comforting to have a little place of your own, especially after dealing with so many of the boisterous warriors all day and while you feel as though you’re slowly getting used to their antics, you realize you truly had no idea what you were getting yourself into upon agreeing to be the tribe’s nurse.

A small smile quirks at the corners of your lips as you feel the tiniest ache in your temple where the younger Mandalorian had headbutted his gratitude a little too roughly earlier, though warmth fills your heart when you remember how he had referred to you as his sister.

You’re in the middle of checking on your little violets when your vulptex raises her head in a jolting manner; immediately, you turn around, expecting Paz or perhaps Ima needing you to tend to someone’s wound.

It is neither one of them, you realize with surprise.

You let out a little gasp upon seeing a pair of wide, fearful eyes poking from the tiny crack between the curtains and the doorway and you instantly recognize the sad, golden brown orbs from days ago in the nursery.

“Oh, it’s okay, little one!” You give him a warm smile that instantly seems to allay some of the despair in his big eyes, “You may come in, if you’d like.”

Hesitantly, he makes his way into the unfamiliar room, looking like a lost animal that’s experiencing a new environment for the first time and you think you know the feeling all too well; even after spending a few days at the covert, you still feel quite lost and you can’t possibly imagine what this child is going through.

You blink your surprise when he gets halfway across the room before spotting your lazy vulptex who is still curled up on your desk, staring at the boy curiously, though not unkindly in the slightest. Carefully, you make your way closer to the little who simply stares up at you with wide starry eyes, his hands clasped together politely in front of him and your heart melts at how nervous and scared he seems.

“It’s okay, little one,” You reassure him in a calm, hushed tone, reaching your hand out for him to take, “She loves younglings very much and would never hurt you, I promise.”

The curly-haired boy shifts his gaze between you and your rocky companion before ultimate latching onto your hand with his. Cautiously and without any force, you guide him closer to your desk where the vulptex is still observing the little boy with gentle eyes; you think that on top of being intelligent, her species must also be quite empathetic and can differentiate a kind soul from a dark one.

“Is it okay if I pick you up?” You question the boy softly, earning you a shy nod as an answer, and you carefully haul him up to the chair in front of your desk, keeping a hand pressed to the back of his shoulders to keep him steady, should he stumble, “If you want to hold your hand out to sniff it, it’ll be a sign that you want to be her friend.”

His eyes widen a little more and you can’t help but to grin as he holds a shaking hand out for the rocky vulpine to sniff eagerly, his other hand pressed shyly to his cheek in anticipation. A tiny, childish giggle meets your ears and warms your heart as the vulptex licks his palm, though he is quick to pull his damp hand back and wipe it on his beige tunic with a scrunched up expression. When he smiles up at you, you’re certain your heart is going to melt into a big puddle of goo in the pit of your stomach and you offer him one in return, smoothing his dark, unruly curls away from his forehead.

“See? She knows you’re brave and likes you now.”

He gives you a toothy grin and you feel a lovely warmth in your soul knowing that you were able to provide some emotional reprieve for the sweet child.

“Did you sneak away from the nursery, little one?” You ask him gently, not wanting him to think you’re upset with him at all; he simply drops his head in shame and you continue to stroke his curls in an attempt to comfort him, “It’s okay! You’re not in trouble, I promise. I just want to know why.”

For a moment, you don’t think he’s going to answer as he keeps his head lowered, but then he eventually peers up at you and whispers his response in a tiny, meek voice.

“Y-You were singing,” He explains quietly, and you realize he must have heard you humming and followed you all the way here, “‘M sorry.”

“Hey, no, none of that,” You crouch down in front of him so he’s taller than you while he stands on your chair and you give him a kind smile, “It’s okay, but how about next time you just ask the caretaker on duty, alright? They’ll come find me, wherever I may be.”

He gives you a shy nod, seeming thoughtful for a few moments as he presses a chubby index finger to his pouting lips, “Do I have to go back?”

You should say yes and you know it, but his eyes are all but pleading with you to say no and he looks so hopeful that you’ll let him keep you company. You think he must feel just as out of place as you do, not knowing who to talk to or who to trust, though you seem to be the one person he finds solace in.

How could you destroy that tiny amount of trust he already has in you?

You give him a tiny smile and shake your head, “You may stay for a little while, but I fear I do not make for the most exciting company, little one.”

The boy doesn’t say anything to that and you blink your surprise when he reaches out to clumsily touch the thick braid wrapped around your crown, along with the few flowers that you had strategically placed throughout the weaves that morning when Paz had been watching you. He seems curious by the vibrant flora, his eyes blinking and flickering with awe and you bow your head a little so he can get a better look at them.

“Do you like flowers?” You ask him quietly when he eventually ceases his exploration, and you look up to see him giving you a shy little nod, “What’s your favorite kind?”

You expect him to not know many, especially if he’s spent his few years of life on Nevarro, though he surprises you when he speaks in a barely there whisper, “I like roses--like the ones my ‘gramma used to paint.”

You’re desperately inclined to ask more about his grandmother--if he had any parents and what planet he had been saved from, but if he’s the covert’s newest foundling, the wounds on his heart and mind must still be so fresh and you do not wish to infect it further with your invasive questions. Instead, you force yourself to give him a warm, big smile and somehow manage to keep the tears out of your eyes when his chubby fingers find the little blue flower that Paz had tucked behind your ear earlier in the morning.

“Yeah? I bet they were beautiful,” You grin and he gives you a fervent little nod to confirm your thoughts, “What color roses did she paint?”

And what you thought was only going to be a ten or twenty minute interaction with the boy ends up to be more than an hour and a half long meeting where the two of you talk about harmless topics like flowers, favorite animals, different types of stars and constellations. Though for once, you do most of the talking and you are more than satisfied to describe the beautiful hot springs and caves that Paz had taken you to, sparing all the mushy details that you knew would probably gross out a child.

“He’s scary,” The boy murmurs as you tell him of the story, at least the clean version, of how Paz had stood up for you the night you first found your vulptex, “They all are--they don’t smile.”

“Well of course they do,” You inform the little one, curling a finger against his cheek and earning a tiny giggle, “Everyone smiles, you just can’t see it because they wear their helmets to honor their creed. It does not mean they are robots or incapable of feeling the same emotions we do.”

He’s perched on one of your thighs, seeming comfortable as he softly pets the sleeping vulptex and you smile down at him sympathetically upon realizing he’s still apprehensive of the armored warriors, “I was scared of Paz at first too, but he turned out to be one of the kindest, most honorable men I have ever met. These people are not cruel, but I understand why you are afraid, little one. I have only been here for three days and I am still learning how to fit in as well. Perhaps we can figure this out together.”

He gives you another toothy grin and nods, seeming comforted by your words as he leans back into you and your heart aches at the trust he shows in you; a part of you wonders if it’s because he can actually see your face. You’re not entirely sure of what to say as he continues to pet the sleepy animal, smiling whenever he hears the soft squeaks that the vulptex lets out every now and then.

“Do you have a name little one?” You ask kindly--tenderly--hoping that the question won’t overwhelm him as he tilts his head to stare up at you.

You truly don’t think he’s going to answer you, but then after a few moments of silence, he lowers his head a little, not looking you in the eyes.

“Odisian.”

“Odisian... what a lovely name,” You repeat it with a grin, earning a shy smile from him, “Is it okay if I call you Odi? Or do you prefer your full name?”

Suddenly, he beams up at you and kicks his legs a little, as if having a nickname makes him feel more at home, “I like Odi!”

Your cheeks nearly hurt from how big you’re smiling at him and you nod, deciding it’s best not to dwell too much on his own name or what nicknames he might have had before being brought to the covert. You straighten your spine a little and reach out to pet your little vulptex who keens under all the adoration and attention she’s suddenly receiving from you and the little one.

“Would you like to pick out a name for her?” You ask him softly, tilting your head to the side when he gives you an expression filled with awe and wonder, like he can’t believe you are asking him to do such a thing, “She needs one and I do not think I am creative enough to bestow her with such an honor.”

Odi swings his legs nervously and you can’t help but to grin as he seems to seriously contemplate this huge decision, his tiny hand squeezing his cheeks together in great concentration. You remain patient with him as he turns his head a little to stare at all the flowers on your desk and the colorful vines that are draping off the edge of the shelves attached to the wall with admiration.

“Rosie?”

He says it more as a question, like he’s nervous for your response, so you offer him a warm grin when you realize this sweet child wants to name your vulptex after his own favorite flower. You wonder if he somehow knows just how much your flowers mean to you, just as Paz does, or if the flower simply has some sort of deeper meaning to him and you playfully ruffle his curls, earning you a little giggle from him.

“That is far more lovely of a name than I could ever come up for her,” You inform him, your cheeks hurting from how big of a smile you’re wearing on your face and he perks up at your reassurance, no longer seeming quite as nervous, “Her eyes are red like roses too! Is red your favorite color?”

“I like yellow,” He bashfully admits, and you nearly chuckle at the way he pronounces his ‘L’s as ‘W’s, “It is a happy color.”

You agree with him as you begin to collect some flowers for the little boy, though a part of you lamely thinks he probably doesn’t even want them. You’re in the process of pointing out all the different flowers that Paz and Ima had been so kind to plant for you in anticipation of your arrival when the drapes to your alcove shuffle to the side a little.

You’re completely unaware of how long your blue warrior is standing in the entryway, simply observing you and the little one perched contently on top of your leg who seems utterly interested in what you have to tell him about the healing properties of violets and lavender.

“Oh! And then this one right here, if you just grind it up and add it into--”

“Cyare.”

Immediately, you and Odi both turn to face where Paz is standing just feet away in front of the rounded entrance, though the little one in your arms is quick to lower his head in fear of the massive warrior. Wanting the youngling to feel more comfortable, you simply smile up at Paz, who suddenly seems frozen to his spot as he stares at you with a cocked helmet, his shoulders tense as his pauldrons inch closer to the bottom of his helmet.

“Is something wrong, Paz?”

“No, it’s just--” His helmet slightly jolts to the side and he’s acting odd as you gently heave Odi off of your lap, offering him the little bundle of flowers so he won’t feel so lonely without you by his side, “It is time for the younglings to sleep and the caretaker on duty got scared because he was missing. I thought you might know where he is and it seems as though I was right.”

Odi is staring up at you with the saddest expression, as though he’s pleading with you to not return him back to the nursery and you gently cup the back of his curls, giving him a kind smile in return. Nervously, he fiddles with his hands as you stand up, easily scooping your vulptex into the crook of your elbow, all while the little one stares up at Paz with the most frightened expression you’ve ever witnessed, hiding behind your leg.

“Hey, it’s going to be okay. I’m not going anywhere and you’re more than welcome to visit me anytime,” You offer him a reassuring smile as he gazes down at the little bouquet of flowers and he is quick to grab your outstretched hand with an eager expression, “C’mon, I’ll walk you back. Besides, he likes flowers too--I bet he would like it if you gave him one.”

You say the last sentence in a low whisper, as though you’re sharing some sort of gossip with him and you instantly notice the way he perks up as Paz holds the drapes to the side for you, his helmet still tilted to the side as he observes you two. Odi is still quiet and thoughtful as he stares down at the little bundle of colorful flowers you had gifted him, all while holding your hand as Paz slowly leads you through the dim tunnels.

Shyly, the child gazes up at Paz and warmth blooms in your heart and soul when he lowers his helmet to regard Odi with what you’re certain is the utmost kindness, most likely wanting nothing more than to earn the boy’s trust. Without saying anything, the little one holds up the colorful bouquet of flowers for Paz to see and you grin at the adorable interaction.

"Those are... pretty,” Paz comments in a softer voice and you can tell he’s trying to appear as placid as possible to the nervous boy, “Which one is your favorite?”

Odi lets go of your hand to press his index finger to his bottom lip in severe contemplation and you nearly chuckle at what must be a cute little habit that he does unknowingly when he’s thinking too hard. After a moment’s consideration, he points a chubby finger at one of the many violets that you had tucked in the center and you instantly grin.

“Those are my favorite too,” Paz says quietly, and you’re too focused on the way Odi is smiling down at the little bouquet to notice the Mandalorian’s visor trained on your face.

Odi seems conflicted as he gently tugs one of the violets from the middle of the colorful bundle and offers it to the huge warrior with a hopeful gaze, not saying a word throughout the entire exchange.

“What an honor,” Paz sounds like he's grinning as he accepts the little flower and Odi immediately seeks out your hand again, “Thank you.”

The youngling peers up at you with a cheerful glimmer in his eye, as though he’s proud of himself for showing such bravery and selflessness in the presence of a powerful warrior. Once you offer him a knowing smile and a gentle squeeze of his hand, Odi turns to gaze down at his colorful bouquet with a tiny grin on his face.

Content upon realizing the little one no longer seems sad or fearful, you tilt your head up to beam happily at Paz, your heart still full of love and admiration towards both him and Odi; immediately the warrior lifts his hand to tenderly stroke your cheek. The cold bite of leather nearly makes you flinch and suddenly you’re remorseful that both of your hands are occupied by your littlest companions as you now long to touch the lighter blue in the hollows of his cheeks.

It’s not until you make it back to the nursery that Odi’s smile drops and his lips form into a little pout. Paz presses his gloved hand to the small of your back to guide you further into the nursery and through a short tunnel leading the four of you to where the younglings must sleep and take their naps.

“Hey,” You whisper after the four of you enter a dimly lit room with several beds lined up; you notice the tiny lumps curled up underneath the fuzzy blankets and smile as you crouch down in front of Odi, “Remember what I said, okay? You ever want to come see me, just ask one of the caretakers. I’ll always be here for you.”

He nods, and before you can even think about standing up, he steps forward to wrap his tiny arms around your neck and you’re quick to return the sweet gesture, your free hand coming up to gently cup the back of his head. You feel his chubby fingers curl into the hair you had left unbraided that morning and smile when he holds onto you a little tighter; you can tell he’s still afraid of you leaving as an idea pops into your head.

“Since Rosie seems to like you so much, why don’t I leave her here with you for the night?” Immediately, he pulls away from you, his starry eyes wide and filled with disbelief as you gently shuffle the lazy vulpine into his awaiting arms, “She may be small, but she’s a fierce little thing that will protect you from any nightmares you may have, I promise.”

He holds the animal closer to his chest, grinning when she lifts her head to lick at his cheek and Odi instantly giggles in response. He gives you one last shy smile before making his way to his little bed and you stand up to your full height as you watch him shuffle underneath his blankets, all while holding Rosie close to his chest. It’s not until you watch his eyes close that you let out a deep exhale and you wonder when you had stopped breathing; tears nearly escape your eyes when you watch Rosie curl herself closer to the child, head tucked underneath his chin as he smiles sleepily.

“Ner cyare,” Paz whispers and you jump a little, nearly forgetting that he had been standing there this whole time; you turn to face him and you give him a questioning look when he threads his fingers through the valleys between yours, “There is something I want to show you.”

You think when he says ‘something’, he most likely means ‘someone’, and your heart thrums wildly in anticipation as he leads you away from the younglings’ sleeping quarters. The alcove he’s leading you to is the one he had popped out of a few days ago after you confronted him after the fight, you realize, and you wonder what could possibly be in the room that he seems so excited to show you.

You blink owlishly at him as he politely holds the drapes to the side for you and you hesitantly enter the warm room; instantly, another Mandalorian with black and yellow armor turns to face you and Paz. Before you can offer the stranger an affable greeting, a soft whimper cuts you off and your heart instantly freezes over when you spot a wooden crib in the corner of the dim room.

An infant…

There is an infant in the covert and the thought simultaneously terrifies you and breaks your heart.

Paz quietly says something in his mother tongue when the caretaker on duty tenses as you step forward to try to get a better look at the distressed infant, your heart now pounding so wildly that you hear it in your ears. Whatever Paz said to the caretaker immediately seems to calm them down and they simply watch as you observe the fussy baby that is kicking its little feet wildly and growing even more distressed. The infant is wearing tiny white socks and a long, dark brown tunic that falls to her ankles; her little head is adorned with a white beanie, but you see dark tufts of hair poking out from underneath.

“I… I cannot get her to stop crying,” The Mandalorian’s deep, filtered voice is coated with exhaustion and despite the tears burning your eyes, you fixate your attention on the defeated Mando, the vibrancy of the yellow stripes painted on his black armor nearly hurting your eyes, “What am I doing wrong?”

You wonder if he’s ever had to take care of an infant before, but judging by the way the black and yellow Mando shuffles around nervously makes you think it is not all too common of an occurrence in the tribe.

You swallow the lump in your throat and nod, shaking off your fears and insecurities as you remind yourself that you were brought here to take care of others, “O-Okay, how old is she?”

“I only found her a few weeks ago, cyare,” Paz informs you quietly, not wanting to disturb the baby even more, and you turn around to gaze up at him with wide, watery eyes; he must see the confusion etched on your features because he immediately explains himself, “I was walking back from seeing you one night and found her abandoned behind one of the vendors in the marketplace. I can’t… I can’t imagine what kind of monster does such a thing.”

You know all too well of the monsters that are capable of leaving a helpless creature behind to die, most likely feeling no guilt when they close their eyes at night.

You nod again and let out a shaky exhale as the caretaker turns his body to the side and allows you to lean over the crib, your chest aching something fierce as you carefully scoop up the tiny creature into your arms. Instantly, she lets out with a piercing, shrill scream and you heave a small sigh at how fussy of a little thing she is, though you think you already know what her problem is.

“What are you--?”

The strange Mandalorian jolts forward a little as you shuffle the crying baby around in your arms until her chest and stomach is resting against the inside of your forearm, her arms and chubby legs dangling lazily around in the air and her cheek tucked against the crook of your elbow. It takes a few moments of tenderly stroking her back to get her cries to soften into something less ear shattering, and you let out a relieved sigh when her whimpers turn into little coos and grunts.

“I think she might be colic,” You inform the caretaker with a shaky whisper, his helmet tilted to the side with what you think is either curiosity or shock as she dribbles, “I’ve uh, I’ve seen this before and read about it. Are you making sure to burp her after each feeding? Or perhaps she should be using a different formula if she has a sensitive tummy?”

“I--” He drops his helmet a little, staring at the cooing infant that you’re bouncing a little, “She wasn’t spitting anything up and I just thought… I wasn’t sure how to do it, how to burp her.”

You give the black and yellow Mando a sympathetic expression and nod, your eyes still burning with tears, “Babies can be pretty fussy sometimes, but once you find out how they like to be held and handled, it makes things a little bit easier. This tends to be a good trick at calming a lot of babies, but you need to make sure she gets burped after every feeding or else she’ll be really uncomfortable and even fussier than normal.”

“Thank you,” The caretaker nods his gratitude as you continue to stroke her back and you give him a weak smile in response, “Could you maybe get her to go to sleep? I should check on the others and I--”

‘Need a breather.’

He doesn’t say it out loud, but you hear it in the way his deep voice drops and his shoulders fall at the mere thought of having a few moments of peace and relaxation.

He fidgets when you hesitate, though Paz places a gentle hand on your nape and he must realize that something is wrong as he squeezes the warm skin there; it’s something he only does when he’s trying to comfort you. Afraid that your voice will fail you, you offer the caretaker a jittery nod and he wastes no time in leaving the nursery that’s dedicated to this tiny infant.

You find it difficult to even look at Paz as you make your way over to the rocking chair that seems far too small for any Mandalorian and slowly sink down until you’re sitting comfortably with a cooing, sleepy baby tucked in your arms. A soft sigh escapes your lungs when you feel a little bit of drool soak through the material covering your elbow and you risk a glance at Paz when he gets down on a knee next to the rocking chair, his gloved hand moving to gently squeeze your bicep.

“What happened?” He questions as quietly as possible, warranting a tiny grunt from the irascible infant, “Why are you so sad all of a sudden?”

The way he asks such a question so softly instantly leaves you feeling painfully raw and vulnerable and you are quick to shoulder away a tear before he can wipe it away for you; you shake your head viciously, “It’s nothing.”

“Cyare--”

“I will explain later.”

The Mandalorian gives you a curt nod and retrieves a piece of cloth for you as you move the calmed baby to burp her against your shoulder. You can tell he wants to say something as you pat her between the shoulders, but he remains silent and tilts his helmet to the side upon hearing the infant gurgle and do her business against the cloth draped over your shoulder. It doesn’t take long for her to fall asleep once she’s burped up all the air and spit from her meal and you let out a grateful sigh when you watch her eyelids slowly droop, somewhat eager to get her out of your arms and into her crib.

Once she’s comfortable in her cradle and fast asleep, you are quick to exit the little alcove, Paz hot on your heels as you practically storm past the exhausted-looking caretaker who’s sitting on a stone ledge in the main play area.

“Hey thank you for--”

You’re out of the nursery before he can fully express his gratitude to you and you hear Paz mutter something to the caretaker before rushing after you. Halfway down the tunnel leading to his private quarters, Paz catches up to you and carefully wraps his leather-clad fingers around your bicep, turning you around to face him.

“Cyare! What’s going--?”

“Why didn’t you tell me?!” You don’t even realize you’re sobbing until you hear your own voice and Paz’s other hand comes to squeeze your shoulder in a comforting manner, “Wh-Why didn’t you tell me there was a baby and why would you make me…? I didn’t know and... Maker, she was so much like--”

Your chest is heaving, tears streaming from your cheeks like raging waterfalls and Paz gently pulls you to the side and covers you when another Mandalorian passes you two, giving you what you’re certain is a curious gaze. He cups a massive hand to the side of your neck and leans down as you continue to sob and babble incoherent pleas at him, wondering why he’d put you through this, though he truly had no idea what he had done to you.

“I-I am sorry, cyare,” He breathes, squeezing your bicep firmly with his other hand, “You seemed to love the little ones so much and I thought… I thought you would love to see the baby, but I didn’t think…” He shakes his helmet in a jolting manner as you viciously rub at your eyes and cheeks, “What happened? What did I do wrong?”

“I’m sorry,” You ignore his frantic questions as you try desperately to stop the tears escaping your eyes, along with the horrific memories from flooding your mind, “I didn’t mean to be so rude! I thought I was over it and I could forget, but seeing her...”

“Shh, hey, it’s okay,” He hushes you in a kind manner, shielding you from any wandering eyes that might see your tears, “Why don’t… why don’t we go back to our room and you can tell me what’s going on? That’s what you said the other day, right? That we should talk about the things we feel?”

You nod your answer, not trusting your voice in that moment, and you try your hardest to force down the massive lump in your throat.

“Will you tell me why you are so broken up over seeing the baby?”

He’s quick to pull you in close, hunching over to hold you easier and you immediately stuff your face into the crook of his neck as you give him another jittery nod, “I fear you will hate me upon hearing what I’ve done in the past--how I have failed the ones I was supposed to take care of.”

“I… I could never feel such a thing towards you,” He promises with a deep exhale, sounding just as heartbroken as he reluctantly pulls away and leads you closer to his private quarters, keeping a firm hand on the small of your back, “Whatever it is, I could never hate you, I swear.”

Your chest aches more and more the closer you get to his private quarters and once you finally make it, he’s quick to sit you down on the foot of his bed, kneeling down as he collects your hands in his leather-clad ones.

“What is haunting you, ner cyare? What makes you cry so much when you sleep?”

You pray that once you tell him, the horrific memories won’t weigh heavy on your conscience any longer.

Translations:

Ner cyare=My beloved

Mesh’la=Beautiful

Ori Kebiin=Big blue

Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum=I love you (lit. I know you forever)

Saviin’ika=Little violet

Verd’ika= Little soldier

Di’kut=Idiot, useless individual, waste of space (lit. someone who forgets to put their pants on)

Taglist: @parabatai-winchester @auty-ren @theocatkov @oloreaa @talesfromtheguild @blindedbyyourgrace17 @datmando @dartheldur @miscellaneous-mando @karpasia @ben-is-a-hoe @the-feckless-wonder @whatababeleia @maybege @aerynwrites @corrupt-fvcker @lackofhonor @phoenixhalliwell @crazy-kat-in-the-hat @roxypeanut @mandolovian @honestlystop @teaofpeach @macabrefaerie @acynicalcat @spaghetti-666 @readsalot73 @lanatheawesome @absurdthirst @anakinsittinginsand @yes-music-is-my-religion @tangledlove27 @justrunamok @peqchynero @haloangel391 @awhiskeywithawinchester @aliciaxglasgow @bonesaldente @kawaiitimecharm @karaabove @clydesducktape @misssilvertongue @heartxheat @pazvizslasgirl4ever (Please let me know if I missed you or you’d like to be taken off!!)

Author’s note: As always, thank you all so much for being as patient and kind as ever <3 I don’t know why this chapter was such a struggle for me to finish, but I’m so glad eventually managed to get all the words I wanted down lol. I was worried it might seem like there’s a lot going on in this chapter, but I just wanted more interactions with our nurse getting more settled in with the tribe and meeting others, so hopefully this chapter doesn’t seem like it’s all over the place :( Anyways I love you all and thank you so much for all the support y’all continuously give me <33

#paz vizla x you #paz vizla x reader #paz vizsla x reader #Paz vizsla x you #mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian fanfiction #my writing #IDK WHY I'M SO NERVOUS TO POST THIS CHAPTER OML #I hope you guys enjoy it tho <3 #also now y'all know why christina and I were fighting over wearing socks to bed lmfao

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harryhandstan · 4 years

Text

my only angel

super fluffy harry taking care of you during your period!

tiny mention of mustache!harry and italy!harry towards the end (just the outfit he was wearing in the most recent pictures for reference)

word count: 2,383

@geoffwittek is an angel for being my beta reader and putting up with all my technical problems today haha

tw: blood mention // tw: pills (ibuprofen)

It had been a restless night for you.

Harry, like always, had slept peacefully next to you.

Around 6 a.m., you got up to go to the bathroom only to discover the reason for your restless night. The cramps should have been a sign, but if they weren't, the blood on your underwear now confirmed it.

You quickly finished up and ran back to the bed. Thank goodness nothing had leaked through to the sheets or blankets on your side. Not that Harry would be upset, but you would have felt guilty.

Harry stirs slightly, "Y'okay, bub?"

"Yeah, H. I'm fine. Just got too hot and can't fall back asleep. I'm gonna take a shower, okay? I'm alright." He nods and his eyes flutter closed again.

You quickly gather a change of clothes, careful not to make too much noise. Oversized t-shirt, new underwear, comfy shorts, and fuzzy socks. Your go-to comfort outfit.

The hot water fills the small bathroom with steam quickly. At the last minute you decide to light the vanilla candle, knowing it's one of Harry's favorite scents.

Right after you step in and close the curtain, you hear the squeak of the door.

"Baby? You sure you're alright? Oh.." His voice is still somewhat heavy with sleep. You know by the way his voice dropped that he saw the bloody clothes.

"I'm okay, really. I'm sorry I woke you. I'll be out soon." Your voice echoes faintly off the tiles.

"No worries. You need anything? I can run to the 24 hour shop on the corner?"

"No, no I have everything I need. Go back to bed, babe." You poke your head around the curtain and give him a tired smile to reassure him.

"Alright. Just shout if you change your mind or need me."

You take your time, hoping that Harry actually listened to you and laid back down for more rest. Knowing him though, he had already taken the clothes and thrown them in the washing machine for you. He was most likely searching for your heating pad and making sure he had enough ibuprofen on hand for you for the next week. Harry had become a pro at taking care of you when you needed it.

Your suspicions were correct. The clothes were gone and after dressing quickly and running a comb through your hair, you find Harry fiddling with the cords of the heating pad, trying to untangle them.

"Here, plug this in on your side. There's an outlet behind the-"

"Harry, I know where the outlet is, angel. I don't need that right now. The cramps aren't that bad."

The look of sleepy confusion he gives you almost makes you laugh out loud, but you're able to stop yourself so you don't hurt his feelings. He's being so sweet trying to take care of you.

"I'll leave it on my side just in case I need it, alright?" You take it from him and finally convince him to lay back down.

But your body decides to betray you as you're getting comfortable in bed. A particularly intense cramp hits and you're thankful the light is still off so Harry doesn't see the wave of pain cross your face. Unfortunately, you can't stop the wince that escapes your lips.

"That's it, here," he sits up and grabs the bottle of ibuprofen that you're sure he snuck in the kitchen and grabbed from the medicine cabinet while you were still in the bathroom, "There's no point in trying to be brave. You need this. Take it."

He shakes out two of the small, round orange pills into his hand and extends them out to you, "Hold these. I'll go get you some water."

He's up before you can stop him. His feet shuffle across the carpet and he makes it to the doorway, "Harry, no.." emotion hits you out of nowhere and you feel hot tears starting to form. You feel so ashamed and embarrassed for letting yourself get so overwhelmed so quickly.

He's back to your side in a second, "I didn't mean to upset you I just..if you won't use the heating pad and you won't take something for pain..how am I supposed to help you through this, honey?"

You know if you can just get comfortable enough to fall asleep for a while, things will be better.

You both sit in awkward silence for what seems like ages, just the sound of your soft sobs and the feel of his warm hands soothing up and down your arm, trying to console you. Finally, he breaks the silence, "Tell me what y'need, love. I'll do anything to help."

"Want you," it seems so childish, and you know you'll hate yourself later for being so needy, "Just want you to hold me, H."

"Alright, I can do that. But you gotta let me do my job and take care of you first, deal? Two of these and some water and I'm all yours."

You nod an agreement and Harry squeezes your shoulder before disappearing to the kitchen and coming back with a glass of water, "Here, the bottle says you can have 2."

The pills go down easily and your reward is a "good girl" praise from Harry.

A shiver rolls over your body, "You cold, lovie? You want an extra blanket or a hoodie?"

"Hoodie. One of yours?" You hate the neediness in your voice but all you want right now is comfort so you let the wants and needs overtake your guilt. You could hate yourself for it later.

"Of course, bub. Be right back," You shiver again but he's only gone for a second before he's back, "C'mon, arms up. There ya go. Comfy?"

You nod again. Exhaustion is starting to set in. Warm arms wrap around you and you fall into them, the two of you adjusting until you're settled back down.

The arms tighten their grip slightly. Just enough to pull you closer. He moves one hand to cradle behind your head, in your hair. The other arm draped over you with his hand firmly on the small of your back. The tips of his fingers softly move over your scalp and through your hair and you're grateful for the touch. It's another want you were too tired to express.

He kisses your forehead and mumbles a sleepy "love you" in your ear before you both drift off.

When you wake a few hours later, there's an emptiness to the bed. You're still surrounded by warmth, but you quickly realize it’s not Harry.

Pillows. He had replaced himself with pillows. One under your side and one pressed firmly against your back. As if they could ever be a replacement for his softness.

Faint noise can be heard in another part of the space you share. After a quick trip to the bathroom, you discover the noise coming from the kitchen.

Harry stands over the stove, his back is to you but you can tell he's stirring something, "Harry?"

"Hey! There's my sleepy girl," He crosses the kitchen in a few steps to meet you, "I was hoping you would sleep a little longer so I could surprise you with lunch."

He envelopes you in an embrace so deep you fight not to cry again. You've never had someone love you as much as he loves you. Any touch from him reassures you and reminds you of that. It had been a source of frustration for him in the beginning of your relationship, getting you to accept and learn that you deserve the love he continuously showered you with. You still had days where it was hard, today was one of them.

You hide your face in his chest and just let him hold you. He kisses the top of your head and then loops one of his long fingers under your chin, pulling your gaze back up to his, "How's your tummy feel? Any better?"

His hand rests on your hip and rubs small circles on your side. You notice the absence of rings and fingernail polish today. It feels so strange and foreign but it only means he feels comfortable enough with you to leave them plain and untouched.

"Better."

"Good. You hungry? I attempted to make mac and cheese for you. The white cheddar kind you love so much."

You don't have the heart to tell him no, he's so proud of himself, "Yeah. Sounds good."

After lunch, you both sprawl out on the couch in front of the tv, Harry flipping through the channels until he lands on one of those cheesy romance movies he knows you're secretly obsessed with.

He sits opposite you, your head propped up on throw pillows, your feet stretched out into his lap. His hand smooths up and down your leg, eyes still focused on the tv. He won't admit it, but he gets just as sucked into these movies as you do. You don't even think he realizes what his hands are doing, it's just second nature at this point for him to be touching you in some way.

When the movie takes a sad turn, you find yourself wiping your eyes with the sleeve of his hoodie you're still wrapped in.

"Angel." His voice is soft, almost a whisper, but it's loud enough to make your head turn towards him to see he's gesturing for you to join him on his side of the couch. You shift around, head falling into his lap, his fingers running through your hair.

Normally he would tease you about getting so emotional over these movies, an elbow nudged playfully into your side until you look at him and both fall into a fit of giggles about how silly it was. He doesn't do that now, just watches you for a minute, thumb swiping away tears, "What part made you so sad, baby?"

"She lost her husband. He was just gone and I..I know you're not my husband but, you're mine and I couldn't imagine losing you like that." The tears are free flowing now, the thought a vivid image in your mind because of the scene that just played.

"Oh, lovie. You're not gonna lose me. Not anytime soon, anyway. And definitely not like what happened in the movie. Was a little ridiculous how he just.."

You cut him off with a kiss, sitting up to press your lips tenderly into his. He leans into it, a hand slipping behind your neck to gently push you into a more upright position in his lap, pressing slightly firmer before pulling away, "What was that for?"

"Just a thank you for taking such good care of me, being so good to me. The clothes and the food..this."

"You're welcome, this is my favorite part. Seeing you all soft and emotional. I don't always get to see that side of you, you hide it so well. Clothes are fine, by the way, I pulled them out of the dryer earlier. I put them away for you."

He chuckles, "Was so anxious I might wake you up with that squeaky drawer of yours. You looked so sweet, face smushed against my pillow."

"Oh no, H. I was probably snoring! I don't know how you stand to sleep with me." You bury your face in your hands so he doesn't see the deep shade of crimson spreading across your face.

"Hey, none of that now." He pulls one hand away from your face, bringing it down to settle on his chest, "But yes, you were. It was incredibly adorable."

He kisses your forehead, pausing there for a moment longer than he ordinarily would.

"Hmm, that feels nice. Do that again, made my head feel better."

"Yeah? Your head aching, darling?" Warm fingers move across your face, his thumb landing on a spot right between your eyebrows, "Here?"

You nod, leaning in to his touch, a contented sigh slipping from your mouth.

"Was thinking about what we should do for dinner, if you feel up to going out."

"Mhmm, what were you thinking?" You're still floating, absorbing every bit of his touch.

"Thought we could try that new Italian place up the street, the one that just opened across from the bakery with those cookies you love so much. We could go there after. Or we could get dessert from the restaurant..they had a nice selection. I looked at the menu online while you were distracted by the movie. We could also get it as takeaway or have it delivered if you'd rather. It's up to you."

"Let's go there. Wanna see you all dressed up." You open your eyes, hands drifting to his jaw, then up to cradle his cheeks. Thumbs smoothing over the mustache covering his upper lip.

"Yeah? Like it when I get all pretty for you, huh?" A smug smile brightens his whole face.

"Mhmm." Your teeth sweep your bottom lip into your mouth, unable to stop the smile that flashes across your own face.

"Alright then, love. You're the boss. Be ready in 30, yeah?"

30 minutes turned into 45 and he impatiently watches you, leaning against the frame of the bathroom door. He's selected a simple black, short sleeve button down shirt. He’s left a few buttons undone, pairing it with bright linen pants. A silver cross necklace shines against his tan skin.

"Just a second, can't get this curl to cooperate." You twist it in your fingers, trying to make it settle in with the others framing your face.

You're considering turning the curling iron back on to run through it again, when he lifts himself from the door frame and slowly steps behind you, eyes never straying from your reflection in the mirror. They sweep over you, taking in every inch of your curves, the soft flowy fabric of your dress hugging all the right features. One hand rests on your hip, while the other brushes your hair back away from your neck. He places a kiss to your exposed shoulder, then up to dip into the curve of your neck.

"Better hurry, baby," his eyes dart up to meet yours in the mirror, "I might not make it to the restaurant before I want dessert."

#harry x reader #harry styles imagine #bf!harry #my writing #pretty proud of this honestly #the end was kind of rushed but..#enjoy!

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bigfrozenfan-fanfics · 3 years

Text

Chapter 09 - Sisters

Links: Chapter overview, Character list, Map, Glossar Rating: M over all Publishing cycle: each Friday on (link)

Remarks: all my chapters contain carefully selected music tracks. It’s your own decision if you want to use them or not while reading. The purpose is to musically support the respective mood of the plot. If you can please use a browser for reading (not the Tumblr app) due to the text formatting and music.

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As Halvard slowly walked back to camp with the other men, still thinking about Yelana's news, he wanted to see what was going on in the camp at first and looked for his family. Linnea and Honeymaren were supposed to look after the toddlers of the camp during the Norting. But he only saw his wife, who was clearly having trouble with the little ones. Where was just his daughter? He was starting to get angry and looked in their kota first.

~~~

“Get up, Honeymaren, come on! You're still sleeping. You had only one important task this morning,” someone called out in an angry tone and shook her rudely by the shoulder.

“Hmm ...?” Honeymaren slowly opened her eyes and blinked. She saw the respectful figure of her father standing above her, now with his hands put on his hips, and his face indicating nothing good.

“Where were you last night? What's the matter with you?”

She got up slowly and struggled with her tiredness. “Nothing, I was just ... on the beach at sunset and fell asleep. Didn't wake up until after it was nightfall. Sorry.” She yawned and tried to rub the sleep out of her eyes. “It won't happen again, papa, I promise.”

Her father shook his head, “Come on, daughter, your mother is wondering where you are. She's all alone with the naughty boys from the camp and you were supposed to help her mind the little ones today.”

“Why didn't you wake me up?” she asked, looking at him from drowsy eyelids.

“That's what we did this morning when we went out. However, you didn't hear us obviously. Otherwise you always get up right after us ...,” he said, looking at her without understanding, “What's wrong with you recently? Come on, get dressed and then get out.”

She looked after him as he walked out first. Then she put on her clothes and followed him.

She walked wearily between the kotas and already heard the laughter of several small children from a distance even before she saw her mother and the cheeky gang. She stopped and watched for a moment. Linnea looked a bit overwhelmed as she tried to keep everyone under control. Honeymaren finally walked on and clapped her hands loudly. The children's heads spun around and two of them ran towards her laughing and calling her name. She didn't feel like it; she thought, but seeing her mother like that touched her conscience. It was time for an apology.

~~~

Ryder was on his way back to camp and had a brooding expression on his face. It had been his first time at this kind of meetings and he wondered why everything has to be kept from the Arendellians. They were their friends now, and he liked Kristoff above all, because he was like him and let Sven talk the same way he did with his reindeer. But he was not allowed to tell them anything about the Great Ting and what was exposed in it. This made him feel sadness and at the same time frustrated and guilty. How could he tell Kristoff that they were all in great danger?

Ryder was so lost in thought that he was startled when someone suddenly spoke to him. He looked up in surprise and realized that instead of going to the camp and to Kristoff, he was now standing in front of his reindeer herd. One of the two young boys who had been looking after them in the meantime said, “Hey Ryder. Why are you looking so downheartedly at? Are you sick or something?”

Ryder put his usual smile back on, “No, no. There's nothing wrong with me. I was just thinking. You gonna be okay with the herd?”

The two nodded and the other said, “Sure, everything's fine. Why?”

“I just wanted to say good morning to Kristoff but was all in thoughts and made a wrong turn.”

They looked at each other and then at him again and laughed. “Made a wrong turn?”

Oh, man, that was embarrassing now; Ryder thought to himself and rolled his eyes. “Well, it happens, right? It's probably never happened to you guys before.”

“Nope,” they said, as if from one mouth.

Ryder took turns looking from one to the other and he couldn't help but notice this little grin on their faces. Well, this could become cheerful, he thought and said, “All right. You take care of everything and I'll be off again.” He turned around at the last word and walked back into the woods with big steps. They already had an answer on their lips, but could only look after him irritated. Ryder grinned and whispered, “No, boys, not with me. Not today.”

~~~

Elsa had been walking all morning across the camp and had looked around. Many were not on the road, there were mainly women at work, and younger Northuldra to be seen, no men. Elsa wondered about this for a moment, but was distracted, because she was constantly greeted friendly and even the children knew her name. Elsa was amazed and greeted everyone back with a smile. Why does everyone here know me, if I am not from here; she asked herself. What had Myrtha told her? She was a good friend of the Northuldra. But even the little children here addressed her with 'Hello, Elsa'. There was something the healer kept from her.

She mused, remembering that Myrtha had hesitated at first. Then she recalled the letters from Queen Anna that she had read, very personal letters to her, with many things she didn't understand. Not yet anyway; she thought. She absolutely had to find her sister and talk to her, she was certainly still here somewhere in the camp.

Elsa looked around and then went back to her kota on another way. Finally she saw people with clothes looking different, sitting in front of a cold fireplace, her sister with her back to her. She could recognize her by her strawberry-blonde hair, now when she remembered her evening visit. The man opposite her was dressed similar to the Northuldra, but looked somewhat different. And then there was this little guy who had frightened her so much that night. Now in the daylight he did not look so scary to her anymore at all. He even seemed to be quite funny and somehow she felt such a strange feeling of closeness, but could not tell what it was exactly.

She walked towards the small group that was talking lively and stopped behind Anna. The man's jaw dropped when he noticed her and stared at her. This little white guy also seemed very surprised.

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“Kristoff? What ...,” Anna asked and turned around. The next moment she jumped up and hugged her sister not a second later. “Elsa!”

Elsa felt taken by surprise, but withstood the reflex to retreat. Maybe that was her usual greeting; she thought and put her arms gently around Anna. She felt herself being pulled into a firm and intimate embrace, and Anna didn't let go so quickly.

After what felt like a minute, Elsa finally cleared her throat and immediately got more air, when Anna held her at half an arm's length and looked deep into her eyes. Their gazes fixated each other and in some way it seemed that they wanted to explore their bare souls. With anyone else this moment would have been unpleasant for Elsa, but here and now something special came into being between the two of them, something that somehow seemed familiar to her. She could feel it clearly and see it in Anna's deep blue eyes.

None of them spoke a word. Anna looked a lot like her, she could see that now. Since she had seen her own reflection in a brook yesterday, she now also knew her own countenance. The main difference was of course the color of her hair and she was also a bit smaller than her. But otherwise she almost saw herself standing before her. They just stood there and explored each other with glances. Until finally somebody said, “Guys ... um ... we're still here too?”

They separated and Anna sat down again, but pulled Elsa down, next to her. She didn't mind and so now she sat beside her sister on a log in the camp and felt all eyes on her.

“Well, that was a little weird for me now and you all look like you have a lot of questions for me. But believe me, it's the other way around, because I still can't remember anything.”

A tense silence arose and finally Anna took the floor and said, “We'll help you, Elsa. Just ask us anything you want to know.”

Elsa looked at her, “I know that you are Anna, my sister, and the Queen of Arendelle, and that I come from there. But they are not my memories, I was only told this. That’s all I know for certain, I do not remember anything else. Even after I read all your letters, nothing in them felt familiar.”

Anna nodded understandingly and slightly touched Elsa's arm. “Perhaps I'd better introduce the others to you first. This here is Kristoff, my fiancé,” she explained, pointing at him with her other hand.

Kristoff didn't seem to know how to handle this situation and greeted only softly, “Hello, Elsa.”

“And this is Olaf, he's ...,” Anna faltered. How only could she explain this, she wondered. “He is ... well, he's a snowman, and ...,” she didn't know what to say without reveal Elsa the whole truth.

But Olaf, however, was unaware of such concerns and, as straightforward as he was, came out with the facts. “You magically created me, Elsa. Without you, I would not exist.” Anna's head fell on her chest, her hands in front of her face. Now it was out. Oh, Olaf; she thought.

“I did what?” Elsa asked stunned and stared at him in disbelief. Then she looked at Anna and then at Kristoff and put on a wry grin. “Sure. Honestly, guys, I may have lost my memory, but you can't be serious. Magically created! Plus a ... snowman, whatever that is. Then what am I if I could do such things?”

“You've had this ability since you were born and you're the only one who can do things like that,” Anna finally admitted. “This blessing was a gift.”

Elsa's mouth still remained open and for a few moments she could not say anything in reply. Then she recovered from the shock and said, shaking her head, “I can't believe it. Please pinch me so I can wake up again.” Anna took it literally and pinched her upper arm hard.

“Ow!” Elsa rubbed the spot and searched in their faces in front of her, but everyone looked at her only curiously. “You all really mean it.” Everyone nodded silently. “A gift ... why and from whom? How can you give something like this as a gift at all? Besides, I feel perfectly normal and have no idea how to do that.”

“Well, Elsa, that's one of the many reasons why I'm going to bring you back to Arendelle,” Anna said, smiling affectionately and stroking her cheek tenderly. “Home.”

~~~

---

I hope you have enjoyed this chapter! Please leave a comment if you liked the story, I would be pleased to read your opinions, even criticisms. If you want to be tagged as soon I publish the next chapter please let me know.

Tagging: @karma26 @whether-near-to-me-or-far @annaofthenorthernlights @igotelsapregnanthelp

#frozen #frozen2 #frozen3 #fanfic #epic novel #the broken bridge #chapter 09 #bigfrozenfan

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xiaomoxu · 3 years

Text

West Moon (坠月之宴) Chapter 1 Part.TWO

⚠️ SPOILER ALERT!! ⚠️ A story from CN server which hasn’t been released in EN server. Contains detailed spoiler from the AU (Alternated Universe) - 坠月之宴 West Moon Story.

Read Part.ONE here

There’s some sub-chapter which full of battle stage so I didn’t put it here.

Stories under the cut-

Chapter 1-7

Across the wide square, I stood under the long steps in front of the Royal Association and looked up.

The blueish-white stairs kept going up, as if the end was invisible, and the uncut gray stone glowed with a faint phosphorescence under the sunlight.

I have passed by here many times, and I only took a look at this long step, which is said to be only climbed by a hidden person, but this time it was my turn to climb.

When I tried my best to reach the last step, the sun had already risen to the center.

Looking down from a high place, the long stairs are like flowing water down a bay, making it even more spectacular.

It's a pity that I'm too tired to appreciate it now.

MC: Phew, is this the Royal Association?

As soon as I walked in, I saw a group of young masters gathered together and whispered about something.

Young Hermit: Do you know? The demonized swordsman who arbitrated himself in the Three Dreams Square a few days ago, heard that he did not leave any hidden dust after his death, but simply disappeared!

Royal Hermit: You are well informed, do you know why?

The young hermit the crowd looked as old as I was. He smiled even more when he heard someone follow him.

Lu: I heard that this is not the first time this situation has occurred, but it was because of fear of panic.

Lu: That man, I heard that he also participated in the Battle of Demon Abyss three years ago. I don't know why he didn't turned into a demon.

Speaking of this, the people around were all embarrassed and sighed with emotion.

Royal Hermit: Maybe it's a trick! She's just a pawn in the army, for strength and power, it is not surprising to do such things.

Royal Hermit: It's just that there are more and more occultists demonized during this period, and there may be someone behind this.

Lu: Wait a minute...who are you?

Following his movements, dozens of eyes instantly turned towards me, who was standing on the side listening seriously.

I quickly pretended that I hadn't heard anything at first, and I looked at them curiously.

MC: Do you register here to join the association?

Lu: Join the association? You?

The young man obviously didn't put me in his eyes. He walked over and looked me up and down. He moved his head and was very disdainful.

Lu: Recently, there have been demonization incidents everywhere in the banquet. In order to prevent hidden inferiors with ulterior motives from entering, the association now only accepts referrals from registered masters.

MC: In that case, as long as there is a recommendation from the Imperial Hermit, it is enough?

In my eyes, I can see that he's thought that I had "ulterior motives".

Lu: Seeing you're so sweaty and out of breath, let's go back and practice again. Who wants to introduce you to the job? Listen to me, he is harming you!

MC: It's Gavin, do you know him?

Lu: Who are you talking about?

His eyes were wide open, as if he had heard something incredible.

MC: Gavin, he belongs to the Bai family. One of the three imperial hermit families, do you know?

*) Notes: I don’t know how should I translate his family name, so I put “Bai” as the original

MC: But he may not come often. Do any of you recognize him?

Lu: .....What, are you kidding?!

Lu looked at me strangely.

MC: Does anyone know him? Do I need any proof?

I frowned, somewhat inexplicable about this situation. Isn't Gavin a regular hermit?

When I hesitated to wonder if Gavin had a bad relationship, the crowd started to laugh.

Royal Hermit: The little girl lied and didn't write a letter! I'm afraid that she has been worshipping for a long time and has become a demon.

Royal Master: The young master of the Bai family has always been a dragon without seeing the end, and never had a close friendship with Master Association. How would you make a referral?

I listened to the whiteness in their mouths, and then I gradually found a familiar feeling.

MC: He is actually the same, he hasn't changed much...

I whispered, and he took the hidden symbol to the table and gave me an ultimatum.

Lu: Unless you play for nothing, we won't let you join!

The lingering sound of this remark hasn't fallen yet, and suddenly there is a loud voice.

The wind surging from outside the door raised the veil on my veil high, and my vision became blurred for a while.

I turned my head and looked, and saw the person we argued with, and the wind fell in front of my eyes.

Gavin looked at me and raised his eyebrows slightly, seeming to ask why I am here.

I hurriedly stepped forward and pulled his sleeves and looked at the crowd.

MC: He is here, can I join now?

Everyone stared at Gavin blankly, and did not recover for a long time.

I looked at them and I was thankful that I was calm on the surface, but my heart was thumping.

Yesterday, Gavin had a vague attitude and did not agree to recommend me to join the Royal Association. Fortunately, I came today.

Gavin: What happened?

He turned his head to look at the young masters who did not dare to speak, and only Lu, who claimed to have seen Gavin, approached him.

Lu: Gavin, why are you here? It turns out that this is someone you know. Are you planning to introduce her to the association?

Gavin: Hm.

Seeing that he wanted to deny it in vain, I secretly tugged at his sleeve and turned my head to pray in a low voice.

MC: Allies, do you remember that we formed an alliance?

Gavin: I can be your referrer.

I didn't expect that he would agree so happily. After a while, there was no response yet, and it was indeed until the second half of his sentence.

Gavin: But you must promise me one more thing.

MC: One word is for sure! No more conditions are allowed.

I agreed in one fell swoop, for fear that he would repent, so I pulled him back and walked quickly with Lu.

The speed of "going through the back door" to complete the procedures was much faster than I thought. When Gavin said that I don't need to perform a hidden energy test, his eyes became more subtle.

Seeing those eyes, I felt a little guilty for a while. However.. Getting a job is the most important thing.

Gu Yu: This is your magic instrument and imperial talisman, please keep it.

The young boy who was in charge of the reception in the hall of the association showed a gentle smile and gave me the things I needed urgently.

With these two things, there will be no forbidden reasons, and the fragments can be found faster.

MC: Gavin, thank you for this time.

Although I was forced to agree to a condition, I expressed my sincere gratitude to him.

He responded, his eyes swept across the thing in my hand, and his voice was lowered.

Gavin: What are you going to do next?

MC: For the next thing, I still need time to prepare.

I remembered the unfinished thing three years ago and the ceremonial a few months later. I was silent for a moment and raised my smile to look at Gavin.

MC: If there is something that needs your help at that time, I will bother you for a favor.

A hint of surprise flashed in his eyes lightly.

Gavin: Of course, we are allies after all.

Chapter 1-8

After getting the promise from Gavin, the weight on my heart seemed to be lighter.

Walking out of the Royal Association, the translucent hidden stone at the door is still dark red, as deep as the whirlpool of a building, making people unable to see for a long time.

I remembered the conditions that Gavin asked me to promise earlier, and hurriedly asked him.

MC: What did you want me to promise?

Gavin stood with his arm folded, raised his eyebrows, but his tone was flat.

Gavin: I'll tell you when it's time for you to do it.

MC: You are really.... I didn't expect you to become such a person!

Thinking of how I promised casually, I regretted it.

Gavin: Hm? Then what kind of person do you think I should be?

MC: Justㅡ

I met his eyes fixed on me, but I didn't know what to say.

After all, at our age, three years is enough to make a person changed, but I missed it.

I still remember that Gavin three years ago, carrying that sword that no one would let anyone touch, was clearly still a young boy.

MC: I believe in what you are, and what I promised you, I will do it.

I raised my hand earnestly, looking at my movements, he was a little bit astonished, but he quickly reacted and gave me a high-five.

Gavin: You still have a lot of ideas.

Gavin chuckled. I don't know if the sun has softened the lines on his face, but I have found the feeling of the past.

Handing over to Gavin to say goodbye, I turned my head, and the long forgotten stairs appeared before my eyes again.

Why did the Royal Association want to build such a long stairs to ask for hardship? I secretly groaned in my heart, and when I watched Gavin on the side, I suddenly had an idea.

MC: Gavin, haven't I told you what my hidden energy is?

Gavin: .... is it dancing?

MC: No, dancing is not hidden energy, it's just the work of witches!

After being blocked by Gavin, I was a bit speechless, but saw him glance at me with a smile in his eyes.

Gavin: Okay, what is that?

I'm speechless for a while, don't turn a blind eye to him.

MC: ....Give me your hand.

Gavin's hand is much larger than mine, enough to hold my hand whole. He took my hand and looked up at me.

Gavin: And then?

His eyes were as clear as the wind with a smile, which made my heart a little confused.

I focused my mind, closed my eyes, and felt the cool, pure, morning breeze coming from the palms that were close to each other.

But there seems to be something uneasy lurking in the wind.

MC: Actually this is the first time I use this kind of hidden energy.

I whispered embarrassedly and opened my eyes. At the same time, the kingdom of wind, born out of thin air, surrounds us, gathering more and more.

The sudden sense of suspension under my feet made me nervously hold Gavin's hand, and the distance between us was also pushed closer by the wind.

MC: Can you use my abilities?

Gavin reacted quickly, but did not resist, but let me carefully try to use it.

MC: Well, I can borrow abilities through contact, but the other party must cooperate.

Gavin: Do you have to do this every time you use it?

His eyes fell on the hand we clasped together.

MC: No, as long as you touch it, anywhere is possible.

Gavin: Any place is ok?

Gavin lowered his voice, with some doubts in his eyes. However, his words fell in my ears, I always feel that something is wrong...

Suddenly I felt the warmth of these words, and there was a thud in my head, everything was messed up all of a sudden, and the wind that supported us also broke away in an instant.

Oh No!

I exclaimed, my body fell back uncontrollably, but was supported by a strong arm, and I fell into a windy embrace unexpectedly.

Gavin seemed to be a little puzzled by my reaction, but didn't ask too much. After taking over, I started to only use hidden energy.

Gavin: Ready?ㅡ

Gavin's voice just fell, and the silent wind steadily supported us....

The wind that I had struggled to control before now became extremely warm, leading us to go up quickly.

The building of the association quickly became smaller in my eyes. The long steps shone in the light, and gradually changed from a river to a creek.

The wind in mid-air hits my face with a coolness, and the scene in front of me is open and far away, which feels refreshing and makes me a little scared.

MC: Have you ever thought about what to do if you fall?

I tried to chat with him to relieve the inexplicable panic in my heart.

Gavin: Why the sudden thought?

Gavin said it quite naturally, as if he had never really worried about this issue. I looked at his expression, it was a relaxed look that I had never seen before.

His eyes stretched, the scattered strands of hair curled up in the wind, and even the corners of his lips seemed to show a soft smile, which made my heart move.

So, flying is such a happy thing?

Compared to both feet, the extra long steps were quickly passed by the wind.

Gavin took me to a stop on the square in front of the long steps, and released the arm that hold me.

The feeling of stepping on the ground again is still a little light, and I still feel a little regretful in my heart. I don't know if I still have a chance to fly again.

Gavin: Well, see you next time?

MC: Huh, what?

I was still immersed in the feeling of flying into the air, and I couldn't get back to my senses. Gavin looked at me, amused, helped me lift my hood.

Gavin: There are so many people here, I will go first,

Seeing Gavin turn around, and once again leap up the steps behind me by the wind, his figure quickly disappeared.

MC: ....When I see you next time, please come up with something that you want me to do.

Chapter 1-10

MC: I didn't expect it to be so troublesome to be an imperial master.

On this day, I first went to a few contact points to hand over the name tag, and then did the task of getting started with the master of the hermit, and received a monthly assessment form.

After finally being officially listed and got work, it is almost time for curfew.

There was no one on the street, and with closed doors, I walked towards the wine shop.

MC: !

Suddenly, I felt an extremely familiar and dangerous force, and my heartbeat stopped, almost asphyxiated.

That was the power I felt just before I fell on the high platform three years ago

That is the hand that stretched out to me from behind...

I squatted down slowly against the wall, hugged my knees tightly, and panted desperately to keep myself calm.

It took a long time for the pain that was almost a dull knife to cut the flesh before falling asleep and the flying power eased. I bit my lip tightly, and my palms were sweating unconsciously.

I will never forget this feeling!

I stood up and followed this force without a doubt.

Gradually chasing to the depths of the alley, a red lantern suddenly floated in the dark.

The faint red light of the lantern fell on the ground, and there was no sound on all sides, followed by my sight.

I used to hear people say that the banquet has a black market called "Dark Moon Set". The location changes at any time, and only a red lantern is hung when the market opens.

Yandu's Dark Moon Collection, they are doing ugly business

Smugglers, murderers, and surreptitious.. The unheard of rare treasures and secret techniques are all circulated here. They are never thought of and cannot be bought.

Someone was crying in the depths of the alley, and I felt a cloud in my heart, and I couldn't help but walk over.

The dark night was deep and the trees were full of shadows. Except for a little light covering them, there was only darkness left.

??: Move, quick.

??: Please...let me go.

A low male voice urged impatiently, and the shadow on the wall spread violently, like a hand, and the whimpering begging for mercy suddenly weakened.

Blood splattered on the wall, the shivering figure gradually fell, and the man triumphantly pinched something on his fingertips.

I can't help but move forward, wanting to see what he is holding.

The blood-stained spar glowed strangely in the night. The man looked at the spar and laughed with satisfaction.

??: The harvest is not bad.

??: Move faster and don't leave your feet behind.

The shape of the man’s fingertips was almost unfamiliar, and my breath shook involuntarilyㅡ

What he holds in his hand is obviously a hidden stone!

The hidden stone and the hidden crystal on my chest are from the same origin. The hidden crystal on my chest is the only one in the world, and I have it when I was born. The hidden stone can be collected near the abyss of the same home.

The hidden stone can enhance the power of the hidden person, and has always been the most precious resource. It has been managed by the Royal Association supervised by the court.

If you are found to sell hidden stones privately, you will be punished by capital.

I accidentally kick the stone.

The sound of rolling down can be heard clearly in the empty dark alley

??: Who? Come out!

What to do?

The man's footsteps gradually approached, and when I was approaching my hiding place, there was a sudden sound above my head.

A crystal clear glass glass slid past my eyes, and it was exploded into pieces on the ground mixed with the depressive liquor.

But the shards of colored glaze stayed in the air, even the crimson wine was condensed into the shape of droplets, and the shadow of the man on the wall froze in a weird manner.

This isㅡ

??: Go.

I raised my head.

Above the high wall, a small window was still lit and illuminated by the light, showing a vague figure.

The person's voice was as cold as water, beyond doubt, I suppressed my doubts and ran out of the alley without thinking too much.

I ran all the way back to the main street. When I couldn't run, there was a faint sound of debris falling to the ground.

When I looked back, the city was silent, and the light in that window dimmed, hiding in the deep night.

The wind blows the trees, everything is back to normal again, what happened just now, everything seems to be just my illusion.

I looked at the fallen leaf falling in my palm, as if holding a broken clue, a wave of unwillingness and melancholy rose in my heart.

It's just that the night is getting dark, so I closed my eyes and tighten my cloak, and didn't dare to stay any longer, and walked straight to Three Dreams Square.

What I didn't see was that a child appeared in the shadow of the alley.

He stared at the shadow that gradually disappeared at the end of the road in the distance, showing an expression of indifference that did not match his age.

The child took out a gray homing pigeon and let it into the air.

The homing pigeon flaps its wings and flies towards the depths of the building after the building, disappearing into the night sky,

Chapter 1-11

After running all the way back to the backyard of the wine shop, I locked the door and let out a long sigh of relief.

Had it not been for the kind-hearted man in the restaurant to help secretly, it would have been inevitable just now.

I shook my head, swept away the various thoughts, sat down in the courtyard pavilion, poured myself a glass of wine, and reconsidered the magic qin

From the outside, this qin couldn't be more ordinary.

Although I was sure that the fragments were in it, I was holding the qin upside down for a long time, and there was no trace of fragments.

I looked at the qin in front of me with some discouragement, and suddenly a flash of light flashed in my mind.

The strings rang, and the clank sound steamed away like water, and I was swept back by a force, and the scene in front of me was turned upside down in an instant!

Consciousness breaks away from the body and gets involved in that qinㅡ

A smell that belongs solely to the battlefield rushed over, with blood mixed in the sand and dust, as well as demonic energy everywhere.

This isㅡ a magic wave!

I looked at the blood-stained knife in my hand and the armor of the West Moon female soldier on me, feeling a little at a loss for a while.

A gun suddenly flew past my eyes, and a young soldier in heavy armor struggling to get up, was pierced in the chest in an instant.

His blood just hit my face, and I couldn't help but shake.

The screams of repair, the sound of mourning, the warhorse. The remains of humans and demons will fill the trenches in history, and the two soldiers trampled past, smashing their swords with their red eyes.

I looked at the tragedy before me, my throat seems to be tightly choked.

??: Why are you stupefying!

There was a loud shout from behind, and when I was thrown down, I saw a front half coming through the air firmly nailed to the person behind me.

Looking back again, the soldier who rescued me just now was covered in blood.

MC: what happened to you?

He rode and coughed out a few mouthfuls of blood, and dropped his head in my arms

MC: Demon Abyss...Battlefield.... Why am I here?

I looked up and couldn't see the bridge of Linyuan in the distance, and suddenly remembered

While wandering around the market today, many storytellers in teahouses and pubs were talking about the "Linyuan Battle" that suffered heavy casualties three years ago.

My heart jumped, it seemed to understand, I seemed to be taken by the magic qin into another person's body, and this person...

I don't know who screamed sternly, and the rout soldiers could be seen everywhere, throwing their helmets and armor, and fleeing in all directions.

On the bridge of Linyuan, a tall figure pulled a weapon, and stood up covered in blood.

The robe under the armor was hunted and raised in the wind. He wiped the blood from his lips, raised his head, and saw the soldiers on the hillside in the distance draw their bows towards him.

The military division shouted hoarsely, suddenly the voice was sad and angryㅡ

The major general has become a demon, and only by killing him, we can go home!

He closed his eyes, his face was tired, and he slowly clenched his sword.

Countless arrows were shot at him with black pressure, and the sound of war drums sounded again.

The sound of the wind is like the roar of the ancient gods, coming from the end of the vast world, rolling up the gravel and flying sand that cover the sky and the sun.

The well-trained cavalry soon got ready again, all raised their guns, and only waited for the drums to stop, they rushed to surround him.

He turned around, blank in his red eyes.

At this moment, the mountains on both sides of the Demon Abyss shook, raising layers of yellow sand.

The wind is getting more and more violent, the scenes on both sides are involved in chaos, and another scene emerges like a production building in the sea.

Amidst the twisted flying sand and walking stones, the stretch of the cliff collapsed, and the soldiers and horses ran around in panic.

I suddenly remembered that in the mouths of the storytellers at the market, a general made great achievements at a young age, but he soon fell into a demon.

It is really sad.

When I raised my eyes to try to see his face clearly, he had already turned and walked towards Demon Abyss.

Looking at his back, I don't know why, a deep pain suddenly surged in my chest.

In just a moment, my consciousness attached to this real body was once again swept away by a powerful force.

The wailing of war horses and the sound of desperate fighting gradually disappeared from the ears, and the picture in front of them quickly receded, leaving only a piece of whiteness.

My legs were weak and I slumped on the ground.

My chest was still rubbed tightly by an inexplicable sorrow, and in front of me were the afterimage of the man on the lonely bridge in the abyss, and the blood-stained armor on his body.

I remember, the storyteller seems to have mentioned...

The major general who walked towards the demon realm and never returned, his name isㅡ

Those three words were stuck in my throat, and when I was about to remember, the magic qin on the table suddenly rang.

MC: !

I saw a burst of dark red evil spirits floating on the qin, rising into the air, and hitting me.

Chapter 1-12

The backyard of the wine shop is bright and clean. I was in a panic, and breathed a little, I still had the chance of being attacked by the magic qin.

It turns out that there is a demon in this qin, but I don't know. I bite the tip of my tongue tightly, and my trance thoughts quickly gathered in the sharp pain.

... not a dream.

Even if I closed my eyes, the figure of the major general could not help appearing in the pitch-black vision.

Victor.

I remember, this is his name.

Is the current king of the Demon Territory the major general? I don’t know how the relationship between the two clans has been during the years I slept.

However, the soldiers under the devil are regarded as enemies. Even if they become the devil, they must have an unwillingness to let go.

The fragments of hidden crystals that fell outside, the bell that I heard when I fell from the stage three years ago, the invisible hand, and the memory of this belonging to someone else...

The intricate clues are intertwined in my mind, and the location is not clear.

The predicament in front of me has not been clearly thought out yet, but the sleepiness gradually hit me.

No matter what, go to sleep firstㅡ

When a person can't figure out what to do, they should honestly wait until he wakes up before asking the master.

The empty wine steamed down on the table and turned around, and I closed my eyes in fatigue.

...

The night was dark, just when everything was silent, the magic qin on the table suddenly moved slightly.

The dark body of the qin glowed with a cold and gloomy light, and under the vast moonlight, a red-clothed human figure floated out of the body.

Suddenly there was a greenery in the courtyard, and the shadows of the trees and the bamboo leaves shook slightly.

Someone inadvertently changed the bamboo wind to solve the problem, worrying about being in the ink painting.

He raised his sleeves and flipped his hands, and hold the floating fuzzy human figure back into the qin.

That man made a fierce and gentle movement, and the strings only rang softly.

The girl on the bed moved her finger slightly and turned over, but did not wake up.

He looked down at the girl in his sleep, his eyes dark and deep.

The human figure who was imprisoned by the qin struggled unwillingly twice, making noises in the silence, and then quieting down again.

He turned and stared at the qin, his brows restored as indifferently as before.

Mysterious Man: It's not time for you to play yet.

-----END OF CHAPTER 1-----

#mlqc #mlqc cn #mlqc spoilers #mlqc translation #mlqc west moon #west moon #mlqc victor #mlqc lucien #mlqc gavin #mlqc kiro

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ddarker-dreams · 4 years

Text

Malaise. Yan Fugo x Reader [Implied x Giorno]

word count: 6.3k warnings: implied sexual relations, angst later on notes: i wouldn’t say there’s super heavy yandereness going on here, but given the context i figured yandere would play out a bit differently. it’s more like slight yandere if anything ...

Interacting with someone so close to your own age shouldn’t be this miserable. Bucciarati is far easier to converse with, it’s not even a close competition. He’s a pleasant conversationalist, humoring your ideas and offering valuable input. If you had it your way, you’d only be speaking to him and not… this bratty teenager who turned his nose up whenever you were around. As if your mere existence is the highest insult to his own. You’ll never forget how he looked from you to Bucciarati with a quirked eyebrow when you were introduced, the awkward encounter forever burned into your mind.

You blow a strand of hair out of your face, nose scrunching up at the current dilemma. Bucciarati had asked, more like softly nudged you, to get along better with Fugo. You’ve been trying, ever since he introduced you two that fateful day. In the back of your head, you wonder if the same task was assigned to Fugo in private. Though seeing as he’s remaining nose deep into his book, sitting as far as humanly possible from you on this couch, you doubt it. The phrase “avoid like the plague”, doesn’t even scratch the surface of Fugo’s attitude towards you. He’d sooner embrace the Bubonic Plague than you, should prior encounters be recalled.

“Was there something you needed?”

Speak of the devil. He must’ve seen fit to grace your presence with his most sacred articulation, filling the tense air with some much-needed conversation. The words aren’t malicious on a surface level, seemingly a reasonable inquiry considering you’ve been staring at him for a solid ten minutes. It’s how his voice is strained, knuckles whitening as he grips the book tighter, which gives him away. Fugo’s too easy to read at times, the same can’t be said when it comes to dealing with him. This might be the most difficult task Bucciarati ever assigned to you.

“Need isn’t the word I’d use,” you decide to ignore the not-so-subtle irritation on his features, pushing your strained luck as far as it can go. Linguistics aside, you put your cards on the table. “But, I was hoping to get to know you better.”

With the ball now on his side of the court, all you can do is wait, for whatever rebuttal Fugo decides to dish out. When Bucciarati isn’t around, Fugo’s preference is to act like you’re no more than a fly on the wall. Buzzing around his head and making it impossible to focus on anything that he does in his rare downtime. Honestly, he can’t comprehend why Bucciarati felt so desperate as to pluck you from whatever hole he found you in. You don’t even hold a candle to his own intellect, taking a naive, happy-go-lucky approach to life. Sure you’re a Stand user, and while it’s not a useless Stand, Fugo couldn’t picture you making the choices necessary in a fight to stay alive. The fact you haven’t been reduced to a bloodstain on the pavement is the only thing he finds impressive about you so far.

His eyebrow twitches at your pesky insistence, face settling into a grimace. “Am I right in assuming that if I don’t humor this pitiful attempt, you’ll continue to stare at me and disrupt my otherwise peaceful evening?”

You place a finger to your cheek, considering the proposition, before nodding your head. “It looks like you’ve got a better understanding of things than I expected.”

Fugo lets out a long sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose. So be it. He’ll wait until you fall asleep to finish his book, mentally noting the page number and setting it by his side. The act of surrender takes you off guard. You were fully anticipating a snarky one-liner, or for him to disregard you in some other way. Instead, he looks at you with disinterest, arms crossed over his weird swiss cheese shirt. You learned never to mention your inner critiques of his fashion sense, as it once earned a plate of parmesan being narrowly dodged at Libecco. Scary stuff.

“Now that I have your undivided attention,” Fugo winces at this like he heard nails on a chalkboard, “What do you like to do? Y’know, hobbies and stuff.”

It’s as good a start as any. Finding out a person’s interests unravels the essence of who they are, what they believe is worth their time and effort. Fugo gives your question an unexpected amount of thought, probably sensing you’ll call him out for a lackluster answer. Which you would, of course. For all his stubbornness, he’s gotten good at reading you. Maybe you should try shaking things up a bit to rattle him, keep him on the edge of his seat…

“Honestly, you couldn’t pick something more original…? I don’t know. I read, and I can appreciate a good movie.”

You let out a hum of acknowledgment, considering his words. A very safe, Fugo-like answer. It didn’t take a seasoned detective to assume Fugo liked to read, but the movie detail is a new bit of information that you will take full advantage of. He strikes you as the type to be snobby about his tastes in movies. Most likely only watching them if they’re popular with critics and saying the general population has no appreciation for the fine arts, too busy consuming braindead action flicks instead of true cinema. Not that you have any intention of voicing this conclusion to him, seeing as you’re trying to worm your way into a friendship.

Fugo snaps his fingers in front of your face, bringing you back into unfortunate reality. Maybe that statement earlier this morning about you zoning out too much holds some merit. Before he can berate you as he’s taken an apparent liking to, you speak up. “That’s good and all, but I need specifics.”

“Care to elaborate?”

“With pleasure,” you lean forward, waving your hands enthusiastically to emphasize your point. You get the sense that Fugo regrets asking for clarification, but neither of you are willing to back down now. “How about this. If you could only watch one movie for the rest of your life, which would you pick?”

“Is this some kind of job interview?” Fugo murmurs to himself, massaging his temples. You shrug your shoulders and offer a bright smile, and he knows sarcasm isn’t gonna cut it. “It’d need to be something interesting… maybe The Silence of the Lambs.”

He somewhat defied your expectations, not listing some obscure black and white flick filmed on a Blackberry. Maybe you jumped the gun on your initial assessment of Fugo Pannacotta, and he isn’t as grandiloquent after all. This confrontation is going better than you ever anticipated, and you almost feel guilty for selling him too short.

That is, until he sees fit to present an unnecessary addition to his previous statement. “Was that bit of English too much for you?”

So much for that. Once an asshole, always as an asshole. Shakespeare may have said something similar, but your reimagining is far more of a pinnacle in literary achievement. You deflate back into the couch, huffing at his indignant comment. Well, might as well burst his bubble now. It may be the only bubble Fugo has that you’re capable of the aforementioned bursting, so you’re going to savor every second of it. The entire reason you’ve never mentioned this facet of yourself is that you never viewed it as imperative. Bucciarati knew, you knew, that’s all that mattered. Until Fugo decided to dig under your skin and rub salt on the wound in one fell swoop. Figures he’d do that.

“Fugo.”

“[First].”

“You know English is my first language, right?” Your voice is more of a deadpan than anything, tilting your head to the side as if it is the most logical conclusion. The hypothetical cogs in Fugo’s head begin turning. There was that time you stumbled over a Naples exclusive dish, sfogliatella, Bucciarati kindly offering the proper pronunciation after you stumbled on it. Or how you have the slightest of accents, sometimes referencing pop culture that goes beyond him. He always wondered why muttering “cazzimma” to you only earned a light reprimanding from Bucciarati, and never offended you as more common insults would. He just thought you were some type of misfortune idiot. Whoops.

Not willing to throw in the towel yet, Fugo takes a posture of defense. This is a hill he’s willing to die on, you have to be playing some kind of cheap trick. “I don’t buy it.”

“Should I start reciting the entire Star-Spangled Banner by heart, or talk about how much I love fast food and baseball? Did you think my Stand would be a bald eagle that shot out apple pie? If that’s the case, you’re fresh outta luck. I’m living in Naples for a reason.” you respond in fluent English, flexing your hypothetical muscles. Fugo recalls his English classes from years prior to roughly translate some of your words, scowling at the realization you’ve proven him wrong. By god do you wish you had your phone with you to snap a picture, print it out, frame it in every room of this apartment, make it your lock screen, and send it to Bucciarati.

You’ll settle for drinking in the moment instead, Fugo muttering curses underneath his breath. Much to your surprise, from this moment forward, Fugo earned just an ounce of respect for you. Not that it says a lot, seeing as the cup of [First] respect was drier than the Sahara desert until recent times.

It’s still a step in the right direction.

ii.

Neither of you says a word.

Coming down from your individual highs, you feel how your hair sticks to the sides of your perspiring face. Your bare chest heaving with every labored breath, Fugo in a similar state of disarray next to you. Now that it’s all said and done, you’re unable to look at him out of embarrassment. Instead, you seek solace in staring at your ceiling, thoughts scrambling to rationalize the previous events.

It all started innocent enough. The two of you had been growing closer, becoming more comfortable in each other's presence. Even Narancia, who could be notoriously poor at picking up on subtleties, could sense your connection and even pointed it out. Until Fugo told him to knock it off (in far more vulgar language), saving you the shame of saying it yourself. You felt content with the state of things with Fugo, after months of getting him to come out of his shell with you. His words were still pointed, but not full of ill will. Even when three more additions were brought to your little group, Fugo remained the person you prefer the most. It might be wishful thinking, but you think he feels the same towards you.

Tonight had been like all the ones that came before. The two of you sitting on the couch, talking about pointless endeavors. Mista and Narancia were out at the time, leaving you all on your lonesome. For such a sizable couch, you didn’t realize how close Fugo was sitting next to you. Your thighs practically touching, occasionally brushing over one another. To combat the summer heat and mediocre air conditioning in your apartment, you were wearing short shorts and a tank top. Seeing as everyone else could walk around shirtless at their discretion, no one ever made a point to call you out on the less than modest choice. Even if they felt the itching, you’d shut them up without a second thought.

Fugo found himself focusing less on the words coming out of your mouth, and more on your glossy lips. He could smell your strawberry chapstick, the choice so tempting he found it offensive. Mixed with the chocolate gelato that you stole from Mista’s “hidden” stash, Fugo was bewitched on a level that shouldn’t be possible. Your skin, slightly glistening from the summer heat, eyes full of passion as you explained why you hated pretentious movies. At a certain point, you must’ve noticed how Fugo stopped responding to your impassioned rant. All he could think about was how much he wanted to kiss you, to feel every inch of your body.

So he did.

It was far from suave, an amateurish clashing of teeth and tongue. You let out a surprised noise at the unexpected events but melted into it. While the kiss didn’t go as smoothly as he pictured in his head, you seemed to savor every second of it. He still remembers how eagerly you responded to his every desperate touch, how you wrapped your arms around his neck and brought him even closer. The scent of your floral perfume and the sweet noises that left your lips almost made him drool, prompting him to go even further. Fugo’s brain almost shut down when you lowly whispered into his ear to come to your room, bodies soon falling onto your bed in a heated embrace.

You feel sore, but it’s not so bad.

Fugo’s the first to speak up after some painstaking thought, breaking the silence that’s resonated ever since he climbed off of you. “Are you… are you okay?”

It’s so unlike him to be this unsure, not knowing what to do or say. His heart still pounds in his chest, cheeks flushed and lips bruised. Suppressed emotions came crashing down over him like a tidal wave, drowning him before he could make sense of it all. You didn’t push him away or seem offended by his advances as he’d feared you’d be. Instead, you accepted all of him. Allowing him to carry out his pent-up yearning for you, in a state of bliss by how you called his name out.

Shameful as it may be, Fugo had envisioned this scenario in his head numerous times. He’d always hated himself for it, thinking he’s no better than a common pervert for the way he thought of you. All the ways he pictured you, in all the lascivious situations, only to see you bright and early for breakfast the next day. When you smiled and told him good morning, all he could do is look away in disgrace. Not that you ever knew about this, or that you ever needed to find out.

You let out a carefree, light giggle at his serious inquiry. Fugo’s eyebrows scrunch together into a scowl at your sudden laughter, finally working up the courage to look at you again. Any frustration melts away like winter snow in the spring at how breathtaking you look, your skin iridescent and eyes softening. They aren’t softening just for anyone, it’s for him and him alone. Does he deserve to be the one you look at with all this adoration? And should he even bother with the self-deprecating thoughts, when losing himself with you is so much better?

“S-sorry, I’m not laughing at you, it’s just,” you cover your mouth with the back of your hand, the skin underneath your eyes tightening from the wide smile. “I never took you for the sappy, pillow talk type.”

Fugo’s nostrils flare, huffing without any malice at your teasing. He doesn’t have the slightest idea of what he’s doing, improvising as he goes. Everything that happened, every shared touched you shared, felt so surreal. Cheesy as it may sound, it was like a dream come true. What is there to say after a passionate encounter like that? He’s still rushing to get his bearings, hating the sensation of being this out of control. How you make his stomach erupt into a swarm of butterflies with every action, from the simple fluttering of your eyelashes to the cute way your nose scrunches up when you’re concentrating on a task. Fugo knows what this could be, in the back of his head. A quiet, hard to push down voice tells him what he’s been dreading to hear. That he’s a fool, deep in the throes of love.

It takes a few minutes for you to calm yourself down. Fugo’s observant, much to your chagrin, having picked up on your nervous tick of laughing when you’re unsure of what to do. It’d make sense, seeing how you just slept with your teammate who frequently called you an idiot a few months ago. You prop yourself up, bedsheets covering your bare chest. “I’m fine, thank you.”

He looks away, despising how your revealed skin makes his face flush a bright red. Even without looking at you, he can picture the knowing smile on your angelic face at his embarrassment. It’s the same smile you have when Narancia tells a particularly funny joke, when Mista goes on a silly tangent about his latest concerns, when Bucciarati says you’ve done a good job, or when Abbacchio chooses to sit down next to you when everyone else is being too annoying. Most importantly, it’s how you always look at Fugo, even when he didn’t think he deserved it.

You poke his cheek, murmuring his name. Fugo’s violet hues flicker back to you at the unprecedented action, perplexed countenance betraying his inner thoughts. He knows he shouldn’t be thinking like this. That the occupation you two are involved in is too dangerous to sustain a relationship, and that death is a possibility every day. It’s too late for him to nip these feelings in the bud -- that opportunity passed long ago, as he let it -- but he can’t allow it go past the point it already has.

Fugo lets out an inaudible gasp when you make yourself comfortable against his bare chest. Here he is, being torn on the inside between desire and duty, and you’re snuggling up without a care in the world. It’s the stark contrast that separates you, the same one that has him so hopelessly enamored. You have no intentions on making this easy for him, do you? He knows the answer when he sees your eyelids closing, threatening to fall asleep.

All is comfortably quiet until he hears your muffled voice speak up. “You didn’t push me away.”

“Huh?”

Fugo’s own response isn't the schooled, thought-out string of words you’ve come to expect. It’s a kneejerk reaction to a confusing observation, that he’s having trouble rationalizing in his head. While never the most forthcoming with his emotions, he was essentially ravishing you like a man possessed a few minutes prior. You can’t be that dense, can you? Scratch that, the more he thinks about it, the more it makes sense. Even if not many got to see that side of you, there are still insecurities that weigh heavily on your heart. In the same way he struggles with self-worth, you fight a similar battle. The thought tugs on his heart, lips set into a deep frown. Everyone’s got something to deal with.

“I wouldn’t do that,” Fugo responds in a harsher tone than he intended. When he feels you tense against his chest, he curses himself, intentionally softening his next set of words. “But, uh, do you really want me to stay? The others might be back soon.”

You let out a hum of acknowledgment at his concerns, promptly waving them off. It’s not like Narancia and Mista are capable of sneaking into your shared residence, it’s ridiculously loud when they come home. “Just a few more minutes.”

He expected an answer like that and still has trouble relaxing. Truth be told, Fugo would prefer to lay here with you forever. To see what you look like when you sleep, to feel the gentle rise and fall of your chest in sync with his own, to kiss your forehead and whisper goodnight. In an ideal world, that’s how it would be. Reality is a lot less forgiving, and there’s too much on the line. Being this close to someone else is vulnerable, painfully so. To hurt and be hurt, the opportunity now having the room to manifest. He knows all this, and he still can’t bring himself to mention the full force of his anxieties. Would you hate him? Think he was using you and then ditching you?

Fugo decides to be selfish, more so than usual. While there’s no way to push down all of these emotions, looking at you puts him at ease. His fingers ghost over an area on your neck he learned was sensitive, almost smiling when you lean into the touch. The way he feels with you is addicting. From your quick wit that matches his own, never being afraid to challenge his positions, it’s like he found his match. While he’s always found you begrudgingly cute, even when he was colder to you, it’s evolved into something greater. More serious and heartfelt. It’s horrifying and exhilarating all at once.

“Does this mean we’re dating?” you ask what’s been troubling you, hearing how Fugo’s heartbeat ramps up in speed. It’s a rational conclusion, seeing how comfortable you two are with one another. You don’t know if what you feel is love, not just yet, but you want to give whatever this is a shot. Fugo’s hesitation says all you need to know, though you wish it isn’t like this.

“I… I don’t know if I’m ready for that just yet.” Fugo answers honestly, the words so quiet you struggle to pick them up. It’d be a lie to say you’re not disappointed, though you don’t want to push him into anything he’s not ready for. Fugo has his own emotions to work through, and the last thing you need to do is jump into a relationship and ruin everything. So you lift yourself up, looking him deep in the eyes, Fugo blinking at the abrupt movement.

“Then I’ll wait.”

He doesn’t notice how close to crying he’s been this entire time. The world through his view goes blurry, a lump forming in the back of his throat. Fugo takes deep breaths to steady himself, and instead of berating him, you wipe away his tears with the pad of your thumb. Whispering reassurances into his ear, combing through his tousled hair with your fingers. Fugo wipes at his eyes furiously, cursing himself for breaking down in front of you of all people. He’s overwhelmed with gratitude when you decide not to comment on it further, to save him the embarrassment. Your words echo within his head like a holy mantra, a promise that he’ll hold onto.

If there were ever a reality where you looked down at him with disdainful eyes, he’d hate himself.

iii.

Wandering aimlessly isn’t the worst part.

No, that’d be letting himself off too easy. It’s not the sleepless nights, tossing and turning while his stomach churns, or even the tear-stained pillowcases. When walking around Naples, all he can do is submerge himself to the shadows. There’s shame in the act of hiding, and it’s all he’s come to know. Seeing the light of day feels too good for someone like him, someone who had been abandoned by everyone he cared about and was too cowardly to prevent it. It’s a suitable punishment to wallow in his own self-pity and loneliness, cursing his entire existence for the mistakes that haunt him every day.

It’s always a mistake to come to this café. This is your favorite café, and on days like this, all he can do is watch from afar. There are times he stares at the spot you frequent for hours, waiting to see if you decide to stop by that day or not. In a way, it’s almost better when you don’t. He doesn’t get a taste of what he’s missing out on, a forbidden fruit that he’s too ashamed to reach for. Most of the time you come here alone, with your favorite pastry and coffee, scrolling on your phone or laptop before leaving. He’s seen you meet with Mista a few times, even Trish once, but it’s mostly Giorno who accompanies you.

Today you’re on your lonesome, speaking to someone over the phone and then hanging it up with a smile. Fugo can’t help but wonder, who is it that makes you smile like that? As he sits from afar, drowning in his anguish, it’s what plagues him the most. That used to be the smile he saw on a daily basis, the one that made him fall head over heels in love. Now he’s too afraid to approach you, in fear of what you may say, or do. Even what you wouldn’t do would hurt. Would you look at him in pity, or curse him for his cowardly actions? Condemn him for not joining you on that boat, or ignore him all together?

Is it possible… that you’ve simply forgotten all about him? It has been almost two years since the worst day of his life. While he’s caught up in the past, you’ve moved into a brighter future. He doesn’t know how he feels anymore. Surely you deserve any happiness you can get after all the suffering you went through, but the thought of you being happy without him stings. It digs talons into Fugo’s heart, ripping it out of his chest. One of these days, he tells himself, he’ll work up the strength to speak to you. Even if it’s but a moment.

Though some part of him knows he’ll never be able to face you. Not anymore.

It’s early in the afternoon. Chatter from other patrons reverberates off the tastefully decorated walls, in a restaurant that Fugo’s been to numerous times. This particular visit is different than the ones years ago. Instead of the bustling atmosphere he’d grown used to, there are only two people at the table. Where laughter and lighthearted conversations before work used to occur, there’s nothing but silence save for some polite discussion. Fugo’s throat feels persistently dry, no matter how much water he gulps down.

Giorno sits across from him, legs folded and nursing a glass of iced tea the waiter brought seconds prior. Maintaining eye contact with the revered Don of Passione is no simple task. It’s a daunting experience, regardless of Giorno’s insistence on no formalities being necessary when interacting with one another. Fugo holds immense respect for him, otherwise, he wouldn’t be willingly sitting here right now. Still, his mouth is set in a straight line, leg bouncing underneath the table. Respect isn’t enough to snuff out the uncomfortable memories that appear up in this room, suffocating him from the inside out.

“Is there a reason I’m here?” The words come out more forcefully than he intended, Fugo’s eyes darting around his familiar surroundings, looking for something he won’t find. Someone he won’t find. He’s grateful to Giorno for his benevolence, as speaking this way to someone who’s technically his boss isn’t advisable. Someone as sharp as Fugo knows this better than most, but he also knows Giorno. While not understanding him entirely, his actions make logical sense in the grand scheme of things.

Being in Giorno’s position means being busy. Every second of the day has to be taken advantage of, whether it be discussing with other mafioso about recent happenings or plans, making multiple phone calls, and plenty of other headache-inducing tasks. So it doesn’t make much sense to Fugo why Giorno called him this morning, asking to meet him in person for lunch. While the two aren’t on bad terms, he doesn’t feel deserving of the specially allotted time. And in his gut, he feels there’s a hidden justification for the meeting that he’s yet to uncover. A few unpleasant theories come to mind, but they only serve to unnerve Fugo further, so he stuffs them down.

“I wasn’t sure of the best way to deal with Purple Haze. Your Stand… you’re already aware of the potential consequences it could’ve posed, so I won’t rehash it more than necessary,” Giorno begins to offer his insight into the matter, finally revealing the true reason Fugo was called out here today. “There were a variety of methods that could’ve been used, with varying degrees of success, but I took a gamble. Ultimately, she didn’t want you to suffer anymore.”

Fugo feels his heart drop, jaw slackening despite his best efforts. “Who… who do you mean?”

At this, Giorno quirks an eyebrow up. As if to wordlessly say, you know who.

“It might not be my place to delve into your past,” Giorno continues with a serious air, contrasted by his closed-mouth smile. Fugo never knows for certain what Giorno’s plotting behind that smile, and a part of him wants to remain oblivious. “But for you to overcome it, and in turn gain total control over Purple Haze, it must be addressed.”

He can guess where this is going, and he doesn’t like it. Giorno gives him a moment to consider the words, briefly glancing at his buzzing phone and then returning his attention back to Fugo. It’s a subtle change in body language, how Giorno’s shoulders stiffen just slightly as if he’s anticipating something. Fugo loosens the tie around his neck, the pair returning to tense silence. While the Don made valiant attempts in loosening him up, it only served to make Fugo more suspicious. All of his fears are confirmed when he overhears two voices from the room over, one of them sending his heart racing.

That’s… that you and Mista speaking to one another. He knows your voice better than he knows any other sound on the planet, even if it’s been years since he’s heard it up this close. Fugo still dreams of you, the way you used to stumble over certain Neapolitan lingo, or how wonderful it sounded when you graced his ears with a laugh. Now, he’s unsure of what to feel when hearing the muffled conversation between you and Mista. The sound grows closer, and with it, his dread. After rejoining Passione at Giorno’s behest, Fugo knew this reunion couldn’t be avoided. Nothing could prepare him for it.

There’s a telltale gasp when you turn the corner, spotting the back of someone you haven’t seen since you were a teenager. Someone who you used to hold in high esteem, who practically fell off the face of the earth after betraying the old boss. While Mista had hastily given you the details on the car ride over, it still felt too surreal, like a cruel joke. There’s a lot that weighs down on your heart, like stones wrapped around your ankles, dragging you into the depths. The details Giorno gave you about Fugo’s whereabouts were purposefully vague, most likely in consideration of your past feelings.

“Fugo…?”

You’re by his side before he can even process it, bending down and wrapping his stiff shoulders into a warm embrace. He doesn’t reciprocate it or stop you, his thoughts not capable of rationalizing what’s going on. Fugo can’t bring himself to look up at your countenance, in fear of what he’ll see staring back at him. That you’re even hugging him means you must pity him, viewing him as a scared little boy who was too weak to do what was necessary. It’s the only explanation that makes sense to him, and why he can’t return your affections. While it’s no longer his place to desire anything from you, not after all his shortcomings, he silently prays. That there may be some part of you that still cares for him, in the same way he has loved you from afar.

“I’m so glad you’ve come back.” you sniffle, emotions swirling and enveloping you. You lift your hand, using your finger to swipe away forming tears. That’s when Fugo sees it. It doesn’t hit him at first as one would expect. No, it’s a prickling sensation that starts from his chest and spreads throughout his body like a virus. His body feels ice cold, like a corpse clinging onto shreds of life, consumed from the inside out by sorrow. Nausea comes in waves, tempting him to flee from this heart-wrenching scene and never look back. Your hand falls back to your side, and Fugo’s eyes follow it with precision, unable to look away.

There’s a rose gold band on your ring finger.

Of course. Looking at you here, it makes sense why this would happen. Your body has filled out, beauty like that of an angel. The ability to draw people in and befriend them like a glowing aura has always been your strong suit, it was warm enough to thaw the ice around Fugo’s heart. It’d be a fool’s prayer to beg God to keep you for himself, and still, he had tried. Now that leaves the burning question, who? Who was the person that erased himself from your mind, taking the place that was carved out specifically for him? He looks at your beaming face, searching for answers he won’t find outright.

Your perfume is the same as it was before. Light and floral, but mixed with a hint of something new. Of someone new. It sickens him, the scent dizzying as it taunts him. Where has he smelled this before? It’s on the tip of his tongue, fizzling out before coming into fruition. The words you speak next are drowned out by Fugo’s throbbing head, too absorbed with dark thoughts to process them. He needs to know. He has to know. Fugo looks over your shoulder to Mista in search of answers, the gunslinger holding an uncharacteristically grim expression. They hold eye contact, Fugo staring at him with potent intensity.

Give me a hint. Anything, please.

Not everyone gives Mista the credit he deserves for being observant. Fugo must’ve looked like he’d seen a ghost, Mista swallowing at the pale complexion and vacant eyes. Believing that his intentions weren’t clear enough, Fugo almost looks away. Before he gets the opportunity, Mista offers a slight inclination of the head. Fugo closes his eyes, all his strength going into holding himself together. Picking up the shards of glass that maintain his emotions, hands growing bloody in the process. It’s a subtle movement, though there’s no denying in what direction it went, as much as Fugo wished otherwise.

Towards Giorno.

You move towards your seat, realizing Fugo must be going through a lot of emotions of his own. The last thing you need to do is suffocate him when it’s clear he’s processing the unfolding events. “I don’t know the last time you came here, but they recently added more desserts. I’m partial to the zeppole… it’s so light and fluffy.”

Mista walks over, taking a seat next to the befuddled Fugo, and speaking up to ease the uncomfortable silence that resonates in the room. “I’m starving, haven’t had anything to eat all day. Let’s get the waiter over here.”

While he flags down a passing employee, Fugo’s eyes follow your form. The table is different than how it used to be. Abbacchio would be sipping on wine, no matter the time of day. Bucciarati wouldn’t always be sitting down for long, seeing as he had lots of work to do, but he always made time for a good meal. Narancia loved conversing with you, seeing as you had lots of knowledge of the English music he was so partial to. You always sat next to Fugo, who’d lightly reprimand Narancia for being more passionate about rap than his studies, or telling Mista to knock it off with the unappetizing conversations he loved to start.

Now, you take the chair next to Giorno, who had pulled it out in kind when you walked over.

You said you’d wait for him, and Fugo fooled himself into believing that statement would last a lifetime. He always had regrets about not joining his team on the boat that day, too many to count. A new one has sprouted up like a weed, strangling his heart. If he had joined you, would it have been him you’d have married? Would it be him that you’d look at with that dazzling expression instead, the one that he had grown used to seeing? Now that he knows the full extent of the truth, Fugo wonders how he could have ever been so blind. Even Giorno -- who often smiled just for show -- had unmistakably lightened up as soon as you entered the room.

This… This is Fugo’s despair.

The rest of lunch goes as smoothly as it can. He forces himself to speak when spoken to, Mista kindly filling the room with conversation to prevent any awkwardness. This can’t end fast enough. He needs to get out of here, to excuse him before he does something truly stupid. A serpent whispers temptations of evil into his ear, and he doesn’t want to tune them out. Not anymore. Now isn’t the time to pull any idiotic stunts, so he remains still as a statue. When all is said and done, Fugo can’t get up from the table to dismiss himself any faster. He pays the necessary respects to his Don, swiftly offering his goodbyes. With his back turned, he hears your voice call out to him in the darkness.

“I’ll see you later, right?” you ask in between bites of your dessert, the words meaning more for him than you. He doesn’t know. He’s not certain of anything anymore, even after making up his mind on returning to Passione. The situation has taken a turn for the worst, in a way he couldn’t stomach any longer. So for now, he’ll offer up an unconvincing response, not capable of looking back at you.

At the reminder of all his failures.

“... Of course.”

#fugo panacotta #fugo x reader #fugo panacotta x reader #yandere fugo panacotta #yandere fugo #giorno x reader #giorno #yandere fugo x reader #JoJo's Bizzare Adventure #jojo's bizarre adventures #yandere jojo's bizzare adventure #yandere #Jojo Part 5 #my stuff #not sfw

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cheri-translates · 4 years

Text

[CN] Lucien’s Ordinary Date (Eng Translation)

🍒 Warning: This post contains detailed spoilers for a date (平淡之约) which has not been released in English servers! 🍒

This wholesome date graced the CN Server in late April 2020 🌸

The date begins with MC outside the Lucien Bioscience Research Centre™, where she overhears some of his students gossiping talking about him

Student B: Do you ever feel like although Professor Lucien looks amiable and approachable, he’s pretty cold sometimes? He never talks about himself, and doesn’t have close relations with the other teachers.

Student A: You’re referring to how he’s polite but keeps people at a distance, right?

Student C: Kind of. I’ve seen him standing by the window by himself a few times, and although I wanted to greet him, I felt that I’d definitely be disturbing him.

Student B: Sometimes, I really can’t figure out what kind of a person Professor Lucien is...

My footsteps pause slightly. After hesitating, I continue walking towards them.

MC: Pete!

Pete: MC, are you looking for Professor? He’s just finished his work, and should be taking a break now.

MC: Mm, I brought all of you some things to eat!

I hand a paper bag of food to Pete, and he takes it with a smile while scratching his head a little awkwardly.

Pete: About what we said earlier, it was just mindless chatter...

MC: Don’t worry, I won’t tell on you guys to Professor Lucien.

I laugh, though my heart is very clear -- even I myself once found Lucien’s coldness and distance elusive, so I can’t blame them for thinking this way.

For example, I don’t know what secret experiment he’s conducting this time. Since last month, I haven’t seen him much, and we have had less contact than usual.

Whenever I asked him about it in a roundabout manner, he would always change the subject. As such, I’ve been feeling uneasy.

Student B: Are you Professor Lucien’s girlfriend? We didn’t mean to have a discussion about the Professor - we just don’t really understand him, so we couldn’t help but talk about him a little.

He pauses, revealing an embarrassed smile.

Student B: It’s rare to see such an amazing and young professor, so he really piques our curiosity.

Student A: He’s not just amazing - he can even be written into a textbook!

As they continue talking, the topic shifts to Lucien’s recent academic research.

Apart from anticipation, the sense of fulfilment of working together with Lucien is written on their faces.

MC: He gets overly engrossed in his own world sometimes, so he might come across as unsociable. But there’s no need to worry about him being difficult to get along with.

I look at them, my lips subconsciously lifting into a smile.

MC: He’s a very tender person. The most tender person I’ve ever met.

MC enters the Lucien Bioscience Research Centre™ and finds Lucien looking deep in thought, and she thinks he looks exceptionally lonely:

MC: Lucien.

I can’t help but take a step forward, calling his name softly. He seems to be jolted awake from a deep contemplation, and the gaze he sends my way carries with it a hint of astonishment.

The moment our eyes meet, I can clearly see a smile brimming and surfacing in his dim eyes.

Lucien: Why didn’t you tell me before coming here?

I walk over to him briskly, lifting up the paper bag in my hand with a grin.

MC: I brought you breakfast. There’s bread, egg tarts, butterfly pastries and a sandwich...

I open the paper bag and present the food to Lucien, and he can’t help but laugh.

Lucien: It’s just breakfast - how could I eat so much?

I place the bag on the table, then walk towards the window.

MC: Breakfast is meant to be sumptuous. If you can’t finish them, you can have them as snacks during teatime or supper. How can you get inspiration at work if you don’t have something to eat?

She opens the shutters and light pours in. He notes that the weather is good, and that he would have brought her out for a stroll if it weren’t for his ongoing experiment

Lucien: Didn’t you say that you’ve been busy with a new program recently? Did you suddenly visit because you’re facing some difficulties?

I shoot him a knowing smile, taking out a notebook from my bag.

MC: It’s what I mentioned before, about inviting a logician to do an episode...

Before I finish speaking, Lucien shakes his head and releases a soft sigh.

Lucien: ...so you really didn’t come specially to bring me breakfast.

Stunned, I frantically deny it.

MC: Of course I specially came to bring you breakfast. It’s just that I happen to have questions to consult you about.

Even after hearing this, Lucien’s brows furrow, and his voice becomes heavier, as though he has suffered a great wrong.

Lucien: ...you had a question to consult me about, which was why you brought breakfast, right? It’s been such a long time since we last saw each other, but you don’t seem to miss me at all.

MC: ...hold on a minute! That’s not what I meant. It’s not that I didn’t miss you...

At this moment, Lucien looks up, a slyness flashing across them. Only now do I realise that I got duped, and bite my lip angrily and look at him.

But this person is suddenly in a good mood, and he smiles as he takes my hand into his.

Lucien: Let’s have breakfast first.

Under my “calm” supervision, Lucien finishes three egg tarts, two slices of bread, and half of a butterfly pastry before putting an end to this somewhat sumptuous breakfast.

When he can no longer stomach any more food, a happy smile hangs on his lips.

Lucien: Please let me off this time, great producer. I know that I was wrong. Now, I really know it wasn’t that you didn’t miss me.

He leisurely prolongs the last few words. After finishing the final drop of coffee in his cup, he rests his chin on his palm and looks at the notebook in my hand.

Without giving me time to think of how to retort, he shifts the conversation topic.

Lucien: And now, I should have a look at your difficult question.

Not knowing how to react, I simply go along with him, opening the notebook and placing it on the table.

Lucien: So you were stumped by this question.

Lucien retrieves a pen from his pocket. Just before the pen touches the paper, he turns to me.

Lucien: It isn’t convenient for me to write when we’re sitting opposite each other. Would you like to sit closer?

I nod, dragging my chair over and sitting beside Lucien.

Satisfied, Lucien smiles slightly and writes down the four characters, “AEIO”, before enclosing them in a rectangle.

Lucien: You can understand simply like this: “A” represents a universal affirmative. “E” represents a universal negative. “I” represents a particular affirmative. “O” represents a particular negative.

Lucien: In this, “A” and “O” are mutually exclusive, and “I” and “E” are mutually exclusive. Between the two, one is real and the other is false. For example, when you said it wasn’t that you didn't miss me earlier...

Lucien: You were rejecting a universal negative, which means that “E” is false. In contrast, this confirms that “I” is real, which then means -- you miss me a little.

Lucien: Correct?

His low and deep voice as he explains slowly is akin to a gush of sunlight. I grow flustered as I listen, and involuntarily smile along with the slight curve of his lips.

MC: Correct.

A familiar and refreshing scent lingers in the space between our breaths. I look into his eyes, his pupils rimmed with halos, and only afterwards do I react.

Lucien is holding onto my hand, and a vague smile appears on his lips. His eyes crinkle upwards slightly, and he leans closer.

Lucien: I attended a seminar two days ago, and coincidentally bumped into Old Professor Xu whom you invited for the previous program.

Lucien: He was full of praise for you, and said you already handed over the script two weeks ago. And that you had already completed the questions on logic he posed to you.

Lucien: Such foundational theoretical knowledge - they haven’t stumped you since a long time ago.

Lucien: Yet you used this as an excuse to ask for guidance...

MC: I...

Feeling guilty, I avoid his gaze. After hesitating, I release a soft sound of acknowledgement.

With a resigned smile, he lets out a faint sigh.

Bending his forefinger, he taps my forehead gently.

Lucien: Little Liar, only knowing how to bully me.

I hurriedly lean forward to tug on the cuff of his white sleeve, softening my voice.

MC: Which is exactly why I said that I specifically came over to bring you breakfast.

Lucien: I’m not just referring to this.

Pretending to be mysterious, Lucien stares into my eyes, as though he would catch my reaction, no matter what it may be.

Lucien: Over the past two weeks, Pete has been bringing me supper. Sometimes, it’d be hot congee, and sometimes it’d be dishes with rice. He said they were take-outs, but it didn’t taste that way.

Lucien: Before, the spider plant on the windowsill was wilting. I haven’t had the time to tend to them, but when I happened to look at them a few days ago, I realised they had been changed.

Lucien: When I enter the office of the centre early in the morning, I’d find a cup of green tea on the table, appearing out of thin air.

As he speaks, he wears a contemplative expression, his eyes having a hint of bewilderment in them.

Lucien: When did I bring up a Snail Girl like you?

[Trivia] The Snail Girl is a Chinese folktale of how a kind, young farmer saved a snail. The next night, he discovered that his house had been cleaned, and that a warm meal was waiting on his table. The same thing happened over subsequent days, and the farmer decided to find out who his benefactor was. One afternoon, he spotted a pretty girl cooking at the stove. The girl revealed that she was the snail he saved, and had wanted to thank him for his kindness. They got married, loved each other deeply, and lived happily ever after

He seems to have something more to say, but stops. He simply strokes my hand with his fingers slowly, incredibly softly, and incredibly tenderly.

I feel the warmth emanating from his fingers. I feel the slight ticklishness from his touch. I understand his silence.

MC: I knew I couldn’t hide it from you.

I respond calmly, and suddenly remember the small present I gave him before, and break into an uninhibited smile.

MC: But there’s one thing you missed. I left a humidifier at the corner near the coffee table. Did you notice it?

Lucien pauses, then lets out a soft sigh.

Lucien: How could I not notice it -- also, someone filled my originally empty tea box with new tea.

Lucien: I thought that since I couldn’t make time, you probably went to buy tea on your own.

Lucien’s eyes darken. He leans forward, his forehead on mine.

Lucien: Did something happen recently?

I shake my head subconsciously -- actually, there really wasn’t anything.

He’s busy with his own matters, and we had agreed early on that he’d take me out after he’s done with his current work.

It’s just that when I didn’t hear footsteps from across the neighbouring wall even after waiting the entire night, and when I gripped my phone, knowing that he was probably working and knowing I shouldn’t bother him...

I really missed him.

I feel Lucien’s breaths on my face - both warm and moist, akin to light rainfall in spring, brushing against my heartstrings.

MC: Actually... I didn’t just miss you a little.

Lucien: ...mm, me too.

A week passes since then, and MC’s program receives exceptionally good results. Wanting to share the good news with Lucien, she immediately goes to the Lucien Bioscience Research Centre™ after work

The moment I’m near his office, I hear the sound of Pete’s laughter wafting from inside the room.

Pete: Professor, I’ve been keeping a secret for a very long time, but I’ll tell you about it today! It has to do with MC...

Hearing my name, I put down the hand which was just about to knock at the door, and furtively look into the room through the gap of the door which has been left ajar.

Lucien and Pete are sitting opposite each other, and both of them seem to be engaging in idle conversation. Pete deliberately stops at this key moment to keep his listener in suspense, and I have no idea what topic he intends to bring up.

Pete: Actually, she was the one who secretly sent the supper I’ve been bringing to you. There was once when it rained, and we thought she wouldn’t come. But in the end, she still brought all of us freshly baked cakes and biscuits. There was also a time when she realised you had finished up your tea, and helped fill it up with new tea the next day!

As he speaks, he heaves an extremely big sigh.

Pete: It’s nice to have a girlfriend...

Lucien listens quietly. When Pete starts sighing and groaning, he can’t help but laugh.

Lucien: What, are you envious?

I reach out to knock on the door softly. Lucien smiles, standing up slowly.

Pete: Professor, someone is looking for you, so I’ll take my leave.

Pete pulls open the door just as I’m about to push it. Our eyes meet, and he scratches his head a little awkwardly.

Pete: MC, you’re here... I-I definitely didn’t reveal your secret to Professor. I have a thesis to write, so I’m off!

Before I can tell him that the secret had long since been discovered by Professor Lucien, he has already fled.

Resigned, I look at his receding form along the corridor. Before I can react, Lucien pulls me into his office.

Lucien: Since you’re here at this time, is the recording over? Were the results very good?

MC: Mm~ It just ended. Although I don’t know the results of the broadcast yet, it should be a success based on past experience... but how did you know I came here for this?

Lucien: Isn’t this the tacit understanding between us? Whenever you rush over to look for me, it’s mostly because you have good news to share.

MC: How’s your experiment then?

The light in Lucien’s pupils changes for an instant, but a smile continues hanging on his lips.

Lucien: It failed.

He releases my hand and walks to the file cabinets, retrieving a huge stack of papers with the words “Experiment Report” written in bold on the cover.

I’m slightly befuddled at that moment, not knowing if he’s kidding or telling the truth.

But Lucien inserts the report, one page at a time, into the paper shredder. A whirring sound quickly fills and persists in the quiet room.

When Lucien sees the astonishment and hesitance in my eyes, the faint smile on his face remains.

Lucien: In a hundred experiments, it’s true that the success of the hundredth experiment makes one happy. But this doesn’t mean the previous ninety-nine failures were of no value.

Lucien: Just as how you’d face difficult questions when making programs, receive poor ratings, have a decline in viewership, my work often has such discouraging moments too.

Lucien: But that’s all right. Failing isn’t the important thing. Knowing that you’ve walked down the wrong path is more important.

Lucien flips through the few thin sheets of paper in his hand, the smile in his eyes deepening.

Lucien: I hope I’ll also have good news to share with you next time.

MC: But you didn’t get results even after working so hard and for so long... If it were me, I’d definitely be unhappy for a long time.

As the shredder swallows up the final page of the report, Lucien walks over to me, releasing a faint sigh.

Lucien: Actually, I am a little unhappy.

After a brief moment of thought, I extend an invitation to Lucien.

MC: Why don’t we take a walk outside? The weather is good today, and we can go for a stroll. Sometimes, my mood gets better after feeling the sun on my skin.

Lucien lets out a laugh, and agrees softly. He entwines our fingers together, and leads me out of the research centre.

Now that the weather has become warmer, there are more people walking along the street. Even though it’s a working day, passers-by stroll past in groups of three or four.

Lucien grips my hand tightly, as though worried that I might get separated from him in the crowd.

He suddenly stops in his tracks while we’re walking, and cautions me solemnly.

Lucien: Next time, don’t come out late at night on your own.

Lucien: And you’re not allowed to use alleys as shortcuts.

I was planning to make a wry face as a joke after hearing his first sentence and simply agree. But once he mentioned “alleys”, my entire heart dipped.

MC: How did you know...

The main road from the research centre to home has always been safe, and there would be several people walking around even after 10pm.

But when it rained one day, I took a shortcut through an alley as I wanted to rush back quickly.

It only happened once.

Lucien stands in front of me, laying a hand atop my head.

Lucien: How could I let you walk home alone at night without worrying?

Lucien: It’s just that if I were to accompany you home, or speak to you, I probably wouldn’t have the mood to continue with my research.

Lucien: Which is why every time, I’d only send you to the floor of the building, wait till the lights in your window turn on, and return to the research centre.

Lucien: This way, I’d have the chance to take a short break, take a slow walk, and slowly tidy up my train of thought regarding the day’s work.

MC: ...

I think of him setting down the work on hand, secretly following and protecting me as I go home, then waiting downstairs for my lights to turn on, before returning to the research centre in the dimness of night.

My heart suddenly feels upset.

My original intention was to take care of him, but I didn’t expect to make things even more inconvenient for him.

MC: I'm sorry.

Lucien shakes his head and smiles leisurely.

Lucien: Silly girl, don’t apologise. You didn’t make things more inconvenient for me.

Lucien: I liked all the surprises you brought me. I didn’t just like them - I couldn’t help looking forward to them.

Lucien: Looking forward to what gift you’d bring next, and looking forward to seeing you after a long and exhausting day of work.

Lucien: It was the most interesting experience in all my years of dry and dull, yet ordinary research life.

Lucien holds onto my hand, casting a glance in the direction we came from.

Lucien: Would you like to have ice-cream?

Only now do I notice the dessert shop selling ice-cream in front of me. After hesitating without a word, Lucien speaks.

Lucien: I do want to eat it though. Will you accompany me?

Rarely seeing such a childish side of Lucien, I immediately agree, brisk walking to the dessert shop and purchasing two ice-cream cones.

MC: Here - I’m treating you to ice-cream. Next time, I’ll give you surprises in more thoughtful ways, so you wouldn’t have to worry. The account this time shall be written off!

I hand one of the cones to Lucien before giving mine a try. The cold, sweet ice-cream melts on my tongue, and the rich strawberry flavour makes one feel incredibly happy.

At this moment, Lucien leans over--

He draws near, his lips pressed together. Under my mildly confused gaze, he gently licks the tip of my ice-cream.

The soft ice-cream suddenly becomes a short mountain peak. His thin lips part, but his eyes never leave mine.

In a second, the clamour of our surroundings seems to draw to a temporary halt. My entire vision and heart are filled with a pair of clear, deep eyes.

Lucien: Mm, delicious.

He straightens up. In a considerably good mood, his eyes crinkle, and only now does he try the matcha flavoured ice-cream in his hand.

Even though his eyes clearly have a sly smile in them, the light breeze seems to be influenced by his breath, adding on a touch of gentleness.

It renders one never knowing what to do with him...

MC: Lucien, do you still have to return to the research centre?

Lucien: The experiment is over, so I should head back to rest.

MC: What a coincidence, we’re on the way!

The corners of my lips curl upwards, and I reach out towards him--

With a faint smile and without a trace of hesitation, he takes my hand in his.

Lucien: Mm, let’s go home.

🦋 MOMENTS: ONE 🦋

Lucien’s Post: There’s a new dessert shop at the entrance of the street. When I passed by over the past two days, I saw many people in the queue.

MC: I’ll treat you to it the next time I go to the research centre.

Lucien: All right, it’s a promise.

Lucien’s Post: There’s a new dessert shop at the entrance of the street. When I passed by over the past two days, I saw many people in the queue.

MC: I’ll add it to our checklist!

Lucien: Mm, after this busy period, we’ll take a look together.

Lucien’s Post: There’s a new dessert shop at the entrance of the street. When I passed by over the past two days, I saw many people in the queue.

MC: Many people in the queue? It must be very delicious!

Lucien: Even through the words, I can already see your expectant gaze.

🦋 MOMENTS: TWO 🦋

Lucien’s Post: I wonder what tonight’s nightscape will look like.

MC: The fountain under our residential estate is open, and the elderly grandfathers and grandmothers are dancing around it.

Lucien: Hearing what you said, I really want to see it for myself.

Lucien’s Post: I wonder what tonight’s nightscape will look like.

MC: There seems to be an exceptionally large number of stars tonight.

Lucien: Will you take a picture for me?

Lucien’s Post: I wonder what tonight’s nightscape will look like.

MC: It’s a full moon today~

Lucien: No wonder I can see bright moonlight from outside the window.

🦋 TEXTS 🦋

[ Scenario One ]

Lucien: Tea personality types? Is this a new interesting quiz?

MC: I saw it in a magazine and found it interesting, so I wanted to let you see it.

Lucien: So in your eyes, what kind of tea am I?

MC: You’re plain tea - modest and delightful.

Lucien: You think too highly of me.

Lucien: But I do like plain tea. It has a mild taste.

MC: In your eyes, what kind of tea and I then?

Lucien: If it’s you...

Lucien: You should be milk tea - a new world I had never tasted before.

Lucien: However, if we were to go outside the scope of tea, you could also be fruit juice, or a carbonate drink.

Lucien: Your personality shouldn’t be limited to a specific type.

[ Scenario Two ]

Lucien: Tea personality types? Is this a new interesting quiz?

MC: I saw it in a magazine and found it interesting, so I wanted let you see it.

Lucien: So in your eyes, what kind of tea am I?

MC: ...maybe green tea? It’s just has... a certain invasive feeling.

Lucien: Green tea preserves quite a lot of the natural substances found in the tea leave. For example, polyphenols, caffeine...

Lucien: The fragrance, the rich scent.

Lucien: So in your eyes, I’m like that...

MC: It seems like no matter which tea it is, it fits your personality.

Lucien: No matter which tea it is, the most important thing is that you like it.

Lucien: Actually... I can also be coffee, or milk tea.

Lucien: In short, it fits only if it suit your tastes.

[ Scenario Three ]

Lucien: Tea personality types? Is this a new interesting quiz?

MC: I saw it in a magazine and found it interesting, so I wanted let you see it.

Lucien: So in your eyes, what kind of tea am I?

MC: Black tea of course - it makes people feel warm, and smells fragrant.

Lucien: When I was in England, I learnt ways to prepare black tea.

Lucien: When there’s time, we can try it together.

MC: I should be a green bean cake then, or a macaron... In short, the best companion for tea!

Lucien: Mm, you are the best companion.

Lucien: I suddenly feel like having afternoon tea.

Lucien: There’s no need to wait for another day. Want to look for me?

#mlqc #mlqc cn #mlqc spoilers #mlqc lucien #officially my favourite Lucien date because Pouty Boys™ are delectable

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