|| Apologies III | An Ode to Nipples

Warnings: 18+ explicitly written accounts of sex acts and male masturbation, John Egan going on too long about nipples to make up for Julie doubting he liked hers, a joke about their censor wanting to harm himself.

Previous Letter 💌

Full co-authored with my baby @stylespresleyhearted …in fact, majorly authored by her with me only tinkering, she has these two down to a science and let’s all make her take a bow

My dearest,

In trying to be a gentleman it seems I have offended you and for that I must once again apologize. I never meant to make you doubt yourself or that lovely photograph

-I swear to you I sleep with it in my fist, clutched to my chest every night. So no, you see, you can’t have it back. I've already warned everyone else I'll kill them if they ever even try to peek. Balls are on the line for even coming within a yard of my foot locker. I am your virtue’s most valiant defender. Lucky for us, my bunkmate Lt. John Brady is a good man. No threats needed from me to ensure he keeps a wide berth from my new possessions. He’s a good kid - looks up to me according to Buck and that’s a scary thought in itself.

Oh Jean this just all feels like a dream and I’d be heartbroken upon waking up. Buck convinced me to try to be better, that a woman of your status and money and loveliness deserved someone who wouldn’t ramble about giving you babies and A.C.O.R.N but be assured I’ve smacked Buck around the head since because his advice made me hurt you.

It was gut instinct to first write you, and it wasn’t pretty when I did, but if it matched yours, then maybe our guts belong together, no sprucing up needed. I’ll try to keep it that way, I’ll try to keep spilling my guts to you, if that's what you want.

Since receiving your photograph I find myself unable to be satisfied by my doing or anyone else’s. It may interest you to know I went to the bar last Thursday and strenuously chatted up a girl there who had the largest breasts around, but still they and she did not compare to you.

I found myself thinking yours would bounce and hit your chin, and I’d be a gentleman and hold them for you.

Don’t take me wrong, the dame was a good time and she took real good care of me. Let me slip in between her beautiful pair and let me call her by your name.

But she was not you, Acorn, and so I was still left hard as rod and needing more. Needing you. My hand does nothing for me either anymore and all my thoughts are only of you and your magnificent pair that you deemed me worthy enough to look at. And oh Julie, how I look at you! I wonder if you’d blush or just be pleased.

I wrap my hand around myself and I squeeze and I tug and I pull and it takes about three rounds before the little major goes down. Buck tells me I’m going to start chafing soon enough if I keep it up. I’m telling you this in pure honesty and because thinking of you believing for a second that you aren’t the epitome of the dream girl for me kills me. It hurts, Julie Jean and I’ve never hurt for a girl before. Maybe for girls back during my school days but nothing like this and it’s been so long now I can barely remember it.

Women now, as beautiful and charming and smart as they are, they do just to pass the time but you are different. And I promise here and now Miss Turner, that I vow to never try to impress you or be any more of a gentleman than I am. I will be honest with my desires regarding you like telling you I had a dream you took me in that pouty mouth of yours and you were making the most obscene sounds but I knew you were only asking for more. You don’t remember meeting me at the canteen but I remember how tiny you are compared to me and it’d be a struggle to fit all of me in you but we would make it work. Neither of us are ones to give up.

This dream was the first night since my first mission that I haven’t had a nightmare without having to drink.

You’re a goddamn tonic, baby cakes.

I dream of those large nipples of yours and of being able to take them in my mouth. Of tugging on them until they become tiny and angry and pointy. I could entertain myself with them for hours. Since receiving your letter and reading your insecurities on paper that I left you with, I've hated myself every day and I fear I will hate myself until I hear from you again. I hope to hear from you again, Julie. I really do. In this lifestyle it’s frightening for me to think about getting to have a future but you are the light at the end of all this fucked up tragedy I’m surrounded by. Don’t give up on me, Julie Jean, my heart couldn’t bear it. It’s become unalterably attached to you, I swear it. The only gal whose arms I want to come home to are yours. It’d be an immeasurable dream come true; the sweetest reward after the war.

Until I hear from you again my loveliest, favorite lady.

Your fool only,

John

P.S. attached is a photo of me and another one of me and Buck taken by one of our fellow men. I’ve never been one to shy away from anything in life so I’m not afraid to embarrass myself for you and let you know that big, doofus smile on my face (one that usually only a call from my mother or a snarky remark from Buck can illicit) is because the boys were ribbing me about you, Jean. It’s what thinking of you does to me; it brings me happiness during these trying times. Don’t mind Buck. He’s blushing because I’m reminding him he also took great interest in the photograph you gifted me. I’m sorry for that acorn, it fell out of the envelope and he picked it up but it isn’t something I'm sharing with anyone as I’ve assured you. Goodbye for now, sweetest, prettiest, favoritest of ladies -because it is just for now, you’ll hear from me again if I don’t hear from ya first, and with that I fear we’ve just committed our poor censor to the noose.

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now my life is sweet like cinnamon, like a fuckin' dream i'm living in - genshin fic

ft. yae miko, ei, zhongli, jean, neuvilette

summary: they've left the universe, but are still watching you from above <3 (letters from them to you after they're gone, take that as you will, but it is heavily implied that they are dead)

YAE MIKO! my dearest yn, i have so much to tell you. there's so much i've seen here, and i wish with all my heart that you could be here with me. don't get me wrong, little one, i do believe you should stay a little longer, just to experience the whole of teyvat (and please send me all your stories, i just love reading them over fried tofu), but it'd be nice to have someone here with me to experience these wonderful things. i've met some old friends now, and we've caught up on so much. who knew a few hundred years could change someone so drastically, yet retain their essence? i wonder when you journey here, will you still be the same? oh, it'd be interesting, don't you think? it'd make a terrific novel. 'world-renowned traveller traverses the afterlife, how do they fare?', a fine title for an article, isn't that right? well, i should probably get going now. there's so much to do, and so much to see. do tell ei to write me back sometime, it would be lovely to hear from her again. and you, little one, should write to me too. hehe, the stories from your travels are always amusing, after all. with love, fried tofu with all the frills

EI! dear yn, how have you been? it must be awfully tiring, travelling around. i do hope you get the proper rest you need. there's always desserts in inazuma, feel free to stop by and help yourself to some. oh, and how is little paimon doing? i remember she quite enjoyed the sweets we shared on a number of our walks. frankly, it's been rather relaxing here. i enjoy it very much. it would be a great pleasure if you could visit one day, but that'd mean your journey would come to an end, and i know you have your sibling to find. i am regretful that i am unable to provide much information on her, but i've heard stories of a traveller very much like you, from centuries ago. they say that the traveller was brave, valiant and kind-hearted, much like you. it is at times like these that i realise i have missed so much, meditating in the plane of euthymia. i dearly wish that i had more time with my people, and you, of course, to truly understand the wonders of this world. do that for me, won't you? live your life out to the fullest. do not leave behind any regrets. and when we meet again, you will tell me all about your adventures. oh, and bring some desserts for me, please. thank you. yours sincerely, ei

ZHONGLI! yn, it has been a while since we last corresponded. how have you been doing? i heard that you are currently in fontaine. it is a beautiful place, i must admit. one full of history and culture and stories. if we have time, let us sit down with osmanthus wine and i shall tell you the stories i've heard. there's a story told in liyue, of a man who plays the guqin and another, a lumberjack, who understood his playing. it is said that the guqin player and the lumberjack agreed to meet at the very place they met a year later. tragically, the lumberjack met his end before he could fulfill this promise. wrecked with grief, the guqin player vowed to never touch even a string again, destroying his instrument, for what use would there be if there was no one else who would understand him? hearing this story again, it reminded me of you. who else had such empathy that they could understand the will of the divine? that said, you do have many other nations in teyvat to explore. throughout your journey, you will meet gods in disguise, and mortals disguised as gods. you will meet the soft-hearted, and the cruel. and you will survive it all, for you are an adventurer, above gods and deities, above the Heavenly Principles. please do visit me when you have time. i'd love to have a drink or two with you someday. and if you could, do check up on liyue sometime. i know they are well, but as a mortal, i never got the chance to experience it fully. it would mean a lot if you could do it in my stead. childe should have enough funds, should you need any. yours, zhongli

JEAN! my lovely yn, i heard you are doing well. that's good to hear, really. your job as an adventurer comes with its risks, and though they may not show it, but the knights of favonius often worry about your safety. haha, on more than one occasion, i've caught a few of them in the tavern wondering about you. do visit mondstadt more often to put their mind at ease, yeah? speaking of mondstadt, how are things over there? i left in such a rush that i wonder if things are frenzied. oh, i know i shouldn't worry, but i don't want everyone to pick up after me. you know how lisa hates doing work. kaeya's often busy too, travelling to sumeru and whatnot. albedo and sucrose are often busy with their experiments too, so i doubt they'd have time. and amber! how is she? poor girl, i heard her father passed on recently. she will get through it, i'm sure. and little klee, oh, i hope someone's able to keep her company. ah, am i rambling too much? i apologise, i've just been so worried over them. if you don't mind me asking, how has barbara been? i was her only family, since she isn't that close to the ragndinvr brothers, but i was always swamped with work. i do hope she's doing better. i never did get the chance to say i'm proud of all that she's accomplished now, did i? in that sense, i think i've failed terribly. enough about me, though. where has the wind taken you to? what else have you seen? and paimon, she's still with you, isn't she? take care of each other, both of you. come back to mondstadt when you need a break, its doors are always open for you. i hope to see you again, dear yn. may the wind bless your travels. best regards, jean gunnhildr NEUVILETTE! dear yn, ahem, is that how you start an informal letter? i apologise in advance, i am unused to sending such letters. now that you have left fontaine, things have strangely been a little duller. i often find myself looking up from my desk, waiting to see your face as you hand over a bottle of water from yet another one of your travel destinations. i thought i had sampled water from all over, but alas, you have once again proven me wrong. it was always a delight, however, to watch your expressions as i comment on the taste. i think, in some ways, it has helped me identify the subtle cues of humans. for example, when you lean in just a little when i speak, it shows your interest in my opinion. conversely, when your fingers start fidgeting, i know i've overstepped. i do not wish to bore you with an incredibly long letter, so i shall keep this as concise as possible. as you travel across teyvat, you will face victories and defeat. i know that your fairy companion will, sooner or later, tell you this, but you need to know that you are a traveller unlike any other. you are stronger than most, kinder than most. your strengths are built from your weaknesses, so one loss is just another stepping stone. with that said, i wish you all the best in your travels. when the time comes, let us sit down and have a meal, my treat. warmest regards, neuvilette

a/n: the story mentioned in zhongli's part is actually true! it's about 伯牙, a guqin player who wrote 水仙操 and 钟子期, a woodcutter. their story is more about their devotion towards each other as friends despite the staggering difference in class. you can read about them here.

WOE

ALEJANDRO VARGAS ANGST

[something happened, and he isn't coming home]

inspired by a bot on charachter ai

their account is @/dxnezi

this is my first post on Tumblr, bear with me.

i do write sometimes, and this is a not-so-silly thing i wrote days ago. hope you like it :)

disclaimer: i am not doing an apology video with ukulele. <3 and sorry if it wasn't good enough i tried my best lol

summary: something bad happened, and Alejandro isn't coming home

warnings: major charachter death, heavy angst?

"i'd give you the sun if you asked me to"

Two words—a simple sentence—had the power to shatter me, to upend my world.

"I'm sorry." that's what Rudy whispered, looking down.

But should he be sorry? War, death, love, life, criminals, soldiers—they should bear the weight of remorse.

That feeling, an internal fire that engulfs your being, a sinking heart, a shrinking body, and goosebumps crawling on your skin.

My tongue burned, suppressing the torrent of words I yearned to scream. Instead, I mechanically nodded, accepting the dog tag of my beloved from Rudy's outstretched hand. Closing the door, I leaned against it, gradually sliding down to the floor.

Is this a dream? Or rather, a nightmare? For once, I wished it were so. Clutching the precious item in my palm, I tightened my grip until my knuckles turned white. It was as if holding it could offer solace. But it didn't. Instead, it intensified the burning sensation in my flesh and elicited cascading tears.

I knew this day would come, deep down I knew. I shouldn't be taken aback, yet foreknowledge did nothing to alleviate the searing pain. Slowly, I made my way to our room, donning somber attire. Surveying the disheveled sheets, the scattered cups on the nightstand, and Alejandro's clothes carelessly strewn about, a faint smile graced my lips. Memories of our final moments together, our last night entwined, flooded my mind. How could we have known?

Is this who I have become? Is this the path I am destined to traverse for the remainder of my existence? "You can't do this to me." Everything serves as a reminder of you, every insignificant object now holds profound significance simply because your hands once touched it. Every joke you uttered, to which I responded with a faint hum, now carries more weight than anything else.

"mi amor, you know what the ocean told to each other?"

"don't.. you told me this one four times already"

"nothing, they just waved!"

I remember how bad you enjoyed repeating this joke, while i scowled, you snorted laughing, that precious laugh, I'd do anything to hear it again.

How did this happen to us, my love? How did this happen to you, my dear? What about the promises we made? What about the garden we planned? What about our two children, whom we vowed to name after our dearest friends? What about our journey to Greece? What about witnessing the ethereal Northern Lights? What about standing before each other and saying "yes"?

"you know, mi amor, the weather in August is the worst, I'd rather marry you in the Fall, no much people would come and annoy us, and we'll enjoy the cake to ourselves."

"really Alejandro?"

I always begged you to let me wear your dog tag, just once. Oh, how I wish I hadn't. The cold metal against my warm skin causes my heart to sink time and time again. Will this be my reality, my love?

Were all those promises mere whims or did we truly mean them? Did agony eavesdrop on our conversations, pledging to deny us everlasting peace? What became of you, my love? What became of us?

-fin-

Ahhh, I'm so excited when I write this… >\\\\< I would really like to get a flower bouquet for Rook from the miscellaneous menu, as well as red bean mochi and banana pudding from the midnight menu. Oh, and if possible, a female reader. Thank you very much for creating such an event! >\\\\<

yandere!rook hunt x (female) reader cw: yandere, unhealthy behaviors/relationship, stalking, kidnapping, captivity, restraints, rook being rook (keep this man away from the mirror store) note - thank you for checking in, dearest guest! enjoy your order! [lunar love hotel]

There were a plethora of sinister omens that foretold an inevitable danger, looming and lurking like an unshakable shadow. Sudden camera clicks and flashes in your peripheral, sweets and flower arrangements left at your doorstep or in your mailbox, an absurd amount of typed love letters pasted to your door, footsteps trailing you at night—only to vanish when you turned around in search of the one responsible. You reported each morbid affection, yet nothing could be done to help you. Though it was clearly evidence of a stalker, the police argued that this individual had not yet broken into your home or attempted to hurt you. These gifts, though insistent and a breach of your comfort, were harmless. The most the authorities could do was offer suggestions so that you could keep yourself safe: lock your doors, shut your windows, notify trusted friends or family members of your location, don’t walk alone, carry a self-defense tool like pepper spray, an alarm, or a whistle, stay within crowds, et cetera.

You had managed to convince yourself that this situation wasn’t so bad. It could be worse. But then wasn’t it already terrible enough? Weren’t you already terrified of leaving your house to run simple errands that were mere minutes from your neighborhood? And all of this because some person believed themselves entitled to your privacy.

Madness reached new heights when a pristine, leather-bound diary found itself snuggled within your mail like a maggot boring into flesh. You knew it was going to be bad the minute you opened it and leafed through its pages, but you weren’t expecting to be overwhelmed with so much rotten disgust and horror the more you read on. Every entry began with a date, the weather, and a description of what you had been wearing that day. Most entries were mild and almost innocently romantic if you could ignore the context, simply detailing how much this person adored you and how you were always out of reach. But not for long because, according to them, they would soon have you.

Other entries were not nearly as sweet. There was filth of all kinds strewn throughout—promises and vows inscribed within, each telling you of all the things your stalker wished to do to you. They wrote of the dreams they had of you—dreams in which the both of you were together forever and that there would be no need to fret over life’s daily inconveniences because your stalker would take care of everything. You weren’t sure if they truly loved you as they claimed in their flowery, poetic prose because you would turn a few pages and find depraved lust scrawled throughout.

One page had been written in blood. In fact, it was the final page in the journal. A single ominous line had been shakily streaked in crimson that had since dried: Wait for me, mon amour.

Like hell you were going to wait.

You had received the diary yesterday, and you had intended to deliver it as soon the police station opened its doors that following morning. This was a huge piece of evidence. Now you had handwriting samples that could be used for comparisons! Perhaps you’d finally be able to end this nightmare. 

Your shadow caught up to you in the early hours of dawn, overtaking you completely, and you were swallowed whole.

Which now brings you to the present, where you wake clad in just your bra and panties, gagged, and bound against a metal pole—you think you’re in someone’s basement—and mirrors of all shapes and sizes surround you, showcasing your frightened expression from different angles. Beyond that, photographs are pasted to stone walls and strung up on clotheslines. You can't see most of them because of the poor lighting, but deep in your heart you know you’re the subject of each picture.

If you could vomit, you would. But you swallow the the urge to do so, not very partial to the idea of acidic bile soaking into the cloth that’s tied around your head and stuffed into your mouth. Instead, you struggle against your bindings with the hope that you might be able to break free.

A door opens from above. You halt your frantic movements and crane your neck towards the staircase, where a figure descends slowly, one careful step at a time, and your heart leaps into your throat. You can’t see them in the darkness, but you know they’re in the room with you, watching from where they stand like a predator observing prey.

Gloved fingers curl around one of the mirrors—a dated chunk of carved mahogany on wheels—and then brilliant eyes peek through the sliver of space, so vividly green you find yourself looking into a forest with no end in sight. You inhale a series of panicked breaths, pressing yourself against the metal pole as if you intend to sink into it, but it does nothing to soothe your electrified nerves.

“Aah, mon amour, there is beauty in patience, yet it is the heart-wrenching pain of separation that leaves me yearning so...” The person—you now know it’s a man from his deep intonation—steps past the circle of mirrors into the light, bathed in sickly hues of pale yellow, and he presses his hand to his forehead, emulating a dramatic pose of woe. “In the months leading up to this precious moment, I had caught myself wishing the most grotesque things! But what is true love if not the grotesque and the glorious all at once?”

He kneels down to your height and you jerk away so fast that your head knocks into the pole. The man smiles at you, perfectly white teeth aligned and set into a perfectly pale face. He’s handsome, but in this crisp light he is a portrait of the most devilish fiend. His hand cups your face, holding it so fondly, and he eyes you with nothing but the purest admiration. 

“I had thought that, if I couldn’t wait just one more month, I’d find a way to crawl inside you so that I may make a home within your lungs, listen to the melodies your heart would sing for me, and breathe the very blood that rushes through your veins. I had thought, foolishly so, that that might fulfill my desire to have you. But alas! Even in death, as beautiful as you would most certainly be, I would be left without your voice, your life, your little heartbeats... And those are treasures I would never dream of forsaking just to quell impatient urges. Therefore, I waited for you, ma chérie. Waited until you were ready.”

You know you’re crying when he swipes your tears away with his thumb, cooing at you as if you’re a particularly lonesome child in need of attention. But what else can you do in this moment? You’re trapped, and he’s won. 

The man rises to his feet and spreads his arms to gesture at the many mirrors that surround you in one fluid sweeping motion. “And to think you would call such perfect anatomy flawed! You are beautiful in every way, at every angle, down to the cellular level. These mirrors display the truth you cannot yet see, mon amour.”

You’ve never known insanity before, but you’re almost certain you’re staring him in the face. And he looks right back, ill with infatuation. 

Tenderness

Read on AO3!

Concept drawing

A/N: Mad's nightmare causes Mare to make him a promise. I really like the idea of using Mare's magic to have him just be able to be by Mad's side whenever Mad needed him.

--

Mad wasn’t in bed when Mare woke up for a drink of water that night. The blankets on his side of the bed were rumpled, meaning he had been in bed, but now he wasn’t there. Concerned, Mare climbed out of the bed and peeped into the bathroom in search of Mad, frowning when he didn’t see his boyfriend.

The library and Mad’s office were also empty, and the door to the music room was closed as usual for the night. Running his fingers through his hair, Mare frowned and moved down the hall for the kitchen to get his glass of water.

A soft gasp from the living room when Mare opened the fridge door made him pause, peering through the gloom to see a shadowy lump in front of their couch. Closing the door and setting his glass down, Mare moved into the living room and let out a small sound when he saw Mad curled on the ground in front of the couch.

“Dear heart?” A flinch from Mad’s curled form. “Oh, honey, what’s happened?” He sat on the couch beside Mad, giving him the space to choose whether to move closer or not, watching as Mad slowly crept over to curl in front of Mare’s legs.

Reaching over, Mare turned on the standing lamp beside the couch so he could see Mad, pulling one leg up to rest on the couch and giving Mad room. “Dearest,” he started quietly, waiting for Mad to lift his head. “Nightmare?”

“It was so dark,” Mad’s voice was a whisper, words shaky as he recalled the dream. “I don’t know where I was, and it was cold. I think I’d done something horrible, because I was all alone. I cried out for help, but nobody came. It was so dark, so cold, so… isolating.” He tensed when Mare rested a hand on his shoulder, then relaxed when Mare’s soft touch reached his hair, trailing through the strands toward his cheek, and he caught the hand to hold it close and lean into the touch.

“My darling dearest,” Mare began, voice low with tenderness, “It’s only a nightmare. No matter where you are, or what you do, I’m always going to be here to save you.” He couldn’t think of anything better to say, so he opted for a vow instead, holding Mad’s cheek and shoulder to pull him closer.

“Always?” Mad’s question was quiet, the smallest hint of doubt in his voice as he looked up at Mare, his grip tight on the musician’s hand. Mare gave Mad a reassuring smile, nodding briefly before closing his eyes and taking a deep breath.

“However alone or scared you may feel, all you need to do is think of me, and I’ll be there. I promise.” He shifted slightly when Mad turned around, letting him guide the next moves, and wrapped his arms around his waist when Mad climbed into his lap to curl up against him.

He didn’t fully know how it worked, but he knew an oath to Mad would always work. Some connection they shared allowed him to always be exactly where Mad needed him most, and Mare pressed his nose into Mad’s hair as he held him tighter, swearing silently to defeat anything that dared hurt his love.

-----------

@iamvegorott @brokentimewatch @dungeon-dragons-dragons

My beloved boyfaun, how wonderful it is to see with my own eyes that you do consider yourself healed! Fed and healed, yes, yessss! And safe, yes, as safe as life can be, at least as long as your heart is in my hands, my sweetest lover! I promise you this now: I will never do anything to hurt you, to the best of my ability, and I pray to each and every being in power that can hear me to aid me in that promise! There is cruelty in this world, so much of it, but I don't want to be a part of it, no matter the price.

My loveliest boy, please don't be silly and don't apologise for "late reply", I don't always send you my letters right away either, and besides, it is only right that I shouldn't take my boyfaun's replies for granted (that is not to say I am not sure of your affections, my most beloved one - merely that I am unlikely to demand replies from you) Fauns are mysterious creatures after all, and every attempt to keep them controlled and in check fails in the long term- they are too wild and free. I am perfectly fine with waiting for my own beloved faun to reply when he feels like it <3 - HWA

oh, gentlest one, how wonderful you are to your boyfaun 💓 i do consider myself healed, lover, yes!! fed, and happy, and healthy. oh, the misery i’ve come through, heart, it makes me shiver— yes, it’s a joyous thing to have made it to this point. safe, darling one, always safe with you, i know it :) just as you are safe with me. oh, sweetest, it may sound strange but i have often dreamt of a lover making that promise. it’s an odd thing, i know, and an ex in the past was perhaps understandably offended when i asked them to reassure me that i was safe with them…. and then i wasn’t, of course, but that doesn’t matter, not here with you. this means the world and more, my love, oh, what a promise, what a vow!! thank you, truest one— the same way, i promise you i will never do anything to hurt you, either. you are right, the world is a cruel place, and crueller every day, it seems….. but we should never be part of that, i agree. our courtship is a little peaceful forest safe from the outside world, in which we may both rejoice :) oh, i won’t apologise for the delay in reply, then, lover— how reassuring you are, how wondrous you are to not demand things of your boyfaun. you never take me for granted, it’s the most beautiful thing!! i am rather mysterious, odd in my ways and wild, truly like a faun— my patient admirer, waiting in the forest with your offerings, i promise your wait will always be well rewarded 💓 the delay in response this time was merely because i was asleep, quite deeply— i hope your day is treating you well, beloved

Every Great King - Prologue (Prince Caspian x Reader)

Prologue - Growing Up

*not my gif*

Series Summary: You had grown up with Caspian and naturally you were best friends. Completely inseparable for as long as you both could remember, learning with the professor together, attending (rather boring) balls and banquets and running around the castle grounds in the spring and summer. But then Miraz's own son is born and Caspian's life is at risk. From here the series follows the plot of Prince Caspian and then The Voyage of the Dawn Treader.

A\N: This chapter is pretty much an introduction into the pre-existing relationship between yourself and Caspian, running into the next chapter which is set at the start of Prince Caspian :) Nothing very important happens, just a few little windows into your life with the prince so far.

Next Chapter

Posted: 12/04/21

Age 6

Wind raced past your body as you ran as fast as you could across the fields surrounding the castle, giggling and not at all caring that you were getting mud on your shoes and dress. Caspian was only a few feet behind you and so slowing down really wasn't an option, lest he catch you. The stream you were running to was in sight, as well as an old oak tree you knew too well.

Every morning you and the young prince, your best friend, raced each other to the tree by the stream and the winner got to pick which game the two of you would play until being called back to the castle for lunch and being scolded for how messy you'd both gotten.

"HA!" you shouted in victory, leaning on the tree as Caspian caught up to you just a few moments later. "I win."

"That's not fair, you pushed me back at the castle gates!" Caspian laughed, making excuses on why he should have won (just as he did every time you beat him). "I'll let you have this one, but only because as Prince it's my job to be a gentleman." he smirked, knowing you hated being treated this way.

"Oh do shut up, Caspian!" you shoved him playfully and made your way to sit with your feet dangling in the stream. The cool water was a welcome respite from the burning August sun and cooled you down very nicely.

"Do you think if we stayed here long enough we would see a water nymph?" Caspian was sat beside you, staring up the stream where it was a little deeper. He was referencing a lesson the two of you had shared just the day before all about different magical creatures that used to fill Narnia. You both longed to see even just a tiny bit of this magic, even just once.

"I don't think so. Not this close to the castle anyway..." even at such a young age you knew what was happening in the kingdom was wrong. The professor had made this abundantly clear. You heard Caspian let out a sad sigh and grabbed his hand.

"Doesn't mean we can't look for one, though," you smiled, although you both knew very well that magical creatures like water nymphs had gone extinct a long time ago.

Caspian looked lost in thought for a minute then suddenly dipped his hands into the stream and splashed you, making you squeal and splash him back, laughing.

Age 9

Tears were running down your face as you stood beneath the oak tree by the stream, Caspian shouting at you that he 'didn't want to play with a stupid little girl anymore'.

"Caspian, stop it! You don't mean that, you're just in a bad mood and you're-" you were in the midst of shouting back when you were cut off by a harsh shove from the prince which knocked you to the ground.

"I DON'T WANT TO BE YOUR FRIEND ANYMORE, Y\N!" He practically screamed at you, looking down at you. "One day I am going to be king and future kings don't hang about with stupid girls!" He started walking away from you, back to the castle, leaving you on the floor in shock, tears still running down your face.

"FINE THEN NEVER TALK TO ME AGAIN AND SEE IF I CARE!" you shouted after him, your hurt turning into anger and then back again. Letting out a sharp breath, you moved to sit by the water. With your back against the tree, you pulled your legs to your chest and planted your chin on top of them, watching the water flow.

After a while your tears had dried, leaving your eyes puffy and your face a little blotchy. You stayed against the tree for at least a few hours, not thinking about much before you felt someone sit beside you.

"Y\N..." the person next to you whispered. You sniffed, turning your head so you couldn't see Caspian at all in your peripheral vision.

"I don't want to talk to you."

"Please forgive me," he shuffled closer to you and leant forward, trying to make you see him. "I promise I didn't mean a single word of it, I'm so sorry."

Although you knew you were ultimately going to forgive him, you turned your body away from him. He was going to have to try a bit harder.

"You're not a stupid girl, you're the best person I know and if being king one day meant I couldn't be your friend I would give my crown to someone else." he wrapped an arm around your shoulder, pulling you back towards him. "You're my dearest friend and I shouldn't have spoken to you like that, I'm so sorry. Please forgive me, Y\N?"

"I forgive you." you smiled at him and in a few days neither of you would even remember falling out.

Age 16

A warm breeze flowed through the daisies and daffodils growing wildly around the picnic blanket you and Caspian lay on. It caught your hair a little - blowing it away from your face gently, as to not tangle it. You had come to cherish days like this one where you weren't in some tight corset, learning how to dance or drink tea or sew whilst Caspian was learning how to do useful things like fight and ride a horse. He was being trained to serve his people as a King whilst you were being taught how to be an obedient wife and you loathed it. Caspian did too, vowing to never treat you like you were anything other than equals. He also taught you everything he was learning to do, taking you into the woods and sneaking two swords out so that you could duel or taking some bows and arrows so you could use the trees as target practise.

Instead, on days like today you and Caspian could sit and talk and laugh and read in the sun, just enjoying yourselves like when you were just small children.

"Did you bring a book?" you asked him, moving to lay your head in his lap while he was leaning back on his forearms. Humming in response, he pulled himself to sit upright and took a book out from the very bottom of the basket he had brought out. It was a book full of legends and tales from the golden age when the kings and queens of old rules and magic was everywhere in Narnia. He had took it from the professor just this morning, careful not to let any of the guards see it. "Read to me?"

"Of course," a smile ghosted Caspian's lips. He loved reading to you -whether it was cuddled up in the library or by the fire or outside like now, his hand always found it's way to your hair, fingertips dancing across your scalp slowly and gently.

He found your favourite tale in the book and began reading, his voice like honey running into your brain and making your spine tingle as he stroked your hair. It didn't take you long to fall asleep.

Age 17

Your hair was strewn out on your pillow as you slept, some of it stuck to your forehead in your cold sweat. Nightmares weren't very common for you or at least they were never this bad. You tossed about in distress for a long while before finally waking up with a start, your chest heaving while you tried to catch your breath. As your eyes brimmed with tears there was only one thing you could think of doing and so you quietly made your way across to Caspian's room, a few hallways away from your own.

Checking that there was definitely nobody there, you knocked softly at his door. When no reply came you decided he must be asleep and slowly entered, closing the door gently behind you.

"Caspian," you called out softly, sitting on the edge of his bed. Unlike you, he looked extremely calm and peaceful (and, as always, very handsome) in his sleep. "Cas, wake up,"

Giving his shoulder a gentle shake seemed to make him stir enough to open his eyes. "Y\N? Are you alright?" worry laced his voice, as it was very unusual for you to be in his bedroom at all, never mind in the middle of the night.

"Sorry to wake you, I just-I had a nightmare and I didn't know what else to do." you explained to him, regretting waking him up when you realised how silly it sounded.

"Hey, it's okay," he patted the space next to him and lifted his quilt so that you could lie down next to him. When you did so he almost immediately pulled you as close as he could so your cheek was pressed against his chest and his arms securely around your waist. "I've got you, don't worry. You're safe." a soft kiss to the top of your head made you sleepy again and Caspian's fingers started to draw comforting circles on your sides.

"Goodnight, Caspian." you whispered, feeling sleep taking over you.

"Sweet dreams, Y\N."

It was the best night's sleep either of you had ever gotten, although you were both in a lot of trouble for it the next morning.

The first time Julie has a nightmare that the guys are gone gone, a week after The Almost Forever Goodbye, she panics. She wakes up with tears in her eyes, her whole body shaking in horror at the horrendous images her brain had been conjuring up for the last half hour. The guys- the guys were just gone. They were destroyed. Removed from existence. To be remembered or cared about by Julie and Julie alone.

Julie sobs softly as she puts on her glasses and her monster paw slippers, running out of her room to get to the stairs. She trips over her feet and nearly falls a few times, still somewhat blinded by her tears. She manages to get all the way down safely and runs outside to the studio doors. She yanks the doors open and flips the light switch on, tears still streaming down her face and lungs still working on overdrive.

She gasps out little sobs as the boys look up and run to her from the couch, frantically touching any part of her boys she can reach, their shoulders, their hair, their hands, their cheeks, anything, just to make sure that they’re there and they’re fine and they’re safe and it’s not a hallucination, they’re really still there. As her panicked, sad mind starts to understand that her boys are there and they’re fine and they’re safe, she starts to calm down but still keeps a tight hold on Reggie’s shoulder and Luke’s arm.

“Hey. Hey.“ She hears Luke whisper, his voice gentle and soft. “Hey. What’s wrong?“ He asks, desperate to make it ok and make Julie feel better. He places a hand over hers on his arm, raising his other hand to tuck a curl behind Julie’s ear as her breathing slowly returns to normal.

Julie shudders and whimpers out that she had a nightmare, her cheeks turning a little red as she realized what a baby she must have looked like. Running to them crying about a bad dream. She sniffles and starts to let go of Reggie’s shoulder, her hands still shaking slightly. “You we- You were gone.“ She sobs out and grabs hold of Reggie again on instinct, looking up at them.

She whines as she sees the moment her boys’ ghost hearts break in their eyes, lowering her gaze to the floor. “I just- I needed to know you were still here. Still with me.“ She hiccuped, blinking her tears away.

“We’re here. We’re right here, Julie.” Reggie whispers quickly from her left side and wraps his arm around her waist gently, rubbing small circles with his thumb, tears in his own eyes at seeing the girl he saw as his sister so distressed.

“We’re here and we’re ok.“ Alex promises quietly from the right of his favorite lifer, pressing his forehead against her temple. His lips turned down in a frown, blinking tears away quickly.

“We’ll always be here, Julie. We’ll never leave you.“ Luke promises, squeezing her hand gently. “What can we do?“ He asks, the hand that was previously in Julie’s curls now cradling her cheek like he had just the week before.

“Just- Can you hold me? Please?“ She begs them softly, sighing in relief as her boys surrounded her in a hug, burying her face into Luke’s shoulder. She slowly felt her frantic anxiety and desperate sadness melt away as she stood their surrounded by the boys and their love, maybe for a few minutes and maybe an hour. She slowly pulled away with a small, slightly embarrassed smile, adjusting her glasses on her nose. “Thanks, guys.“ She said softly, clasping her hands.

“Anything for you, Julie.“ Luke promised and Alex and Reggie nodded instantly, making Julie’s smile grow.

“I love you guys.“ She tells them, genuinely meaning it.

“We love you, too, Jules.“ Reggie smiled. “You should get back to bed. It’s late.“

“Oh, right.“ Julie nodded and glanced at the doors behind her, looking back to the boys with big puppy eyes. “Walk me there?“

The ghost boys laughed fondly and nodded, Julie turning the lights off, Reggie taking her hand in his, Alex linking his pinkie in with hers and Luke wrapping his arms around Julie’s neck from behind, clumsily but cautiously walking out of the studio. They walked back into the house and up to Julie’s bedroom, Alex and Reggie sitting on the floor while Luke sits in bed in front of Julie.

Julie smiled as she kicked off her monster slippers and set her glasses down, getting comfortable under the covers.

“We’re not going until you fall asleep.” Luke promises with a smile.

“Yeah, we’ll stay right here.“ Reggie tells her and Alex nods, chuckling when Luke summoned his acoustic guitar and started to play quietly, singing a tune he hadn’t heard to Julie.

Darling, it looks like fate is on our side Yeah, the planets and the sparkling stars are all aligned Two hearts and souls all intertwined And I love the way that your hand fits just right in mine

Think it could’ve been destiny That brought you to me All I know is I want you to be Right here with me

Yeah, it must’ve been destiny That brought you to me All I know is I want you to stay Stay here with me

Dearest, we were just kids sitting by the lake Skipping on stepping stones and playing pat-a-cake Making angels with tongues covered in snowflakes And it felt like we could really stay that way all day

Think it could’ve been destiny That brought you to me All I know is I want you to be Right here with me

Yeah, it must’ve been destiny That brought you to me All I know is I want you to stay Stay here with me

Lover, remember the promises we made When we met on that September day A sacred vow that we would never stray And that we might even wed some special day

Think it could’ve been destiny That brought you to me All I know is I want you to be Right here with me

Yeah, it must’ve been destiny That brought you to me All I know is I want you to stay Stay here with me

All I know is that I’ll always stay Stay here with you

Luke finished the song with a smile, scratching the back of his neck shyly as he looked at Julie. “So, um, did you like my lullaby?“ He asked in a whisper, making Julie giggle.

“I loved it, Luke. But when did you write that song?” She asked.

“Um, just now, as I was singing it.“ He admitted, making Julie laugh again.

“Well, it was adorable, Luke.“ She said and yawned, her nose crinkling.

“Looks like it worked.“ Alex whispered as Julie finally fell back asleep and stood up slowly, giving Luke a look that said ‘the three of us are talking about that song‘ before poofing out.

Reggie bit his lip to keep from smirking and poofed out, leaving Luke alone with Julie.

“Sweet dreams, superstar.“ He whispered before he slowly started to walk out, deciding to leave that way just in case Julie had another nightmare or just got scared so he could get back to her quickly. He glanced at her one last time and smiled at her sleeping peacefully before heading to the studio to get his ear talked off about his lullaby and how he clearly belonged with her.

When he did show up in the studio with a smile on his face and a sparkle in his eyes, Alex and Reggie immediately bombarding him with questions about the song and insisting that he and Julie were indeed soulmates like the kids in his song, he didn’t disagree.

Island Dreams - Epilogue

So, this is it. We officially reached the end. I must admit I am very sad. Writing this story has been such a great journey but Aelin and Rowan have their happy ending. This chapter is set 5 years after the events of the previous chapter. it's divided in two parts. The first one we have Aelin telling in first person what happened in five years. Part two has a snippet of our beloved Whitethorn-Galathynius family. we get to meet Freyja and Morrigan and a surprise too. I hope you love the girls.

I want to say a massive thank to every single person who read the story, reblogged it or left a comment. Thank you. I am so grateful for all the support you gave me.

I am coming back..  A Little Braver is going well and I hope to be brave enough to post chapter one soon.

And now i'll leave you to the story. Enjoy <3

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5 years later

My name is Aelin and my story began five years ago. I was once heartbroken and one day I left my old life behind and took a flight to Scotland, and then a ferry and I ended up on this island called Lewis. I am a bookworm and one of the first thing I did once on the island was to go and hunt for a bookstore. And well, you know the story after that. It’s been five years since the day Rowan and I officially tied our lives together at Callanish. As promised we went back there after a year and a day and renewed our vows.

Married life had its ups and downs but Rowan and I fought through every single challenge that came our way. We made it work, we fought for each other as we promised and we love each other just as we did when we began. And some. Every year Rowan has been celebrating the anniversary of the day I arrived on the island and officially entered his life. Sometimes I think he prefers that day to our wedding anniversary. Anyway, as you remember we finished the story with the four of us, Rowan, me and our two girls Morrigan and Freyja. Those two cute bundles of flesh are now two very active five years old driving mum and dad crazy but also being the most precious thing in our life. They will start primary school next month and I am trying not to cry if I think how much they have grown. Physically they are their father’s clone. They both have deep pine green eyes and his same silver hair. Freyja likes it long and loves when either I or Rowan braid it. He has become quite a wizard at braiding our daughter’s hair. Morrigan, on the other hand, prefers it short. But the similarities end with that. Personality wise they cannot be any more different. Freyja is like me. Rowan calls her his wee Fireheart. She is fierce and stubborn. She has a very strong personality and for a five year old she has her ideas clear on what she wants. She is like quicksilver and always active. She is the first one to wake up and the last one to go to bed. She is curious and fearless and loves nature just as much as her father. She is out little hurricane. Morrigan, on the other hand, is the calm one and reserved and she reminds me so much of Rowan. She observes a lot and when you think she is not paying attention, she comes up with question that makes you realise she was listening after all. She has an inquisitive mind and her non stop questions can be exhausting after a long day. She is shy. Where her sister had been since tender age happy to be with anyone, Morrigan has always been very selective. Growing up she has her favourite selection of adults. She is very close to her father, probably because they are very similar, but Uncle Malcolm and Aedion come second. Aedion got her hooked on planes. Once we were at his and Lys’ house and Morrigan grabbed one of his models planes and started playing with it. Aedion had started talking about the plane and now when they are together she always ask him about planes. We think she’ll be a pilot. Both girls are obsessed with books just like her parents and Rowan has taken upon him the job of teaching them to read. Morrigan can read very simple words and write her own name. Freyja would too if she could sit down for more than five minutes. Good luck with the teachers. She is very bright, she just can’t stay still for very long. She was probably the one doing all the kicking while in the womb. The amazing thing is that they get along. It took us a while to teach them to sleep in their individual rooms. For a while in the morning we would find one in the other’s bed. Always curled up together as they used to do when they were little. Freyja at the park always play the protective one and looks after her sister and chases away the kids who try to take advantage of her sister’s calmer nature. If we were in a fantasy I would imagine Freyja being the woman learning to wield a sword and who would train with the guys and dreamed of becoming a knight. Morrigan, I imagine her as the one with her nose in books and who dreams of becoming a healer. I think Rowan is writing a story about them. Oh yes, I will tell you about his book in a moment. There is a further family member that I need to introduce: our son Dalamar. Yes, Rowan and I have scandalised parents at kindergarten with our weird names. Freyja did not cause much problems but a couple of mothers had a go at me for calling my daughter with such as negative name as Morrigan. I usually explain that I do not expect my daughter to become the goddess of war but that simply Rowan and I liked the name. And do not get me started with Dalamar. No-one apparently has read the Dragonlace chronicles so when we say Dalamar is a dark elf in the books, well, the glares we get are incredible. But again, Rowan and I wanted an original name. We started searching in books to find something we liked and then Rowan found his old copy of the Dragonlance chronicles and he suggested Dalamar. I joked that if we truly wanted to scandalise Stornoway, we should have called him Raistlin. So in the end we went for something less alien and settled on Dalamar. Anyway, Dalamar is two. He was planned though. Rowan and I had decided we wanted a big family so once the girls were around three we started to try and add another member. When we had the conversation we had talked about having four kids, but alas, Dalamar’s birth has been so full of complication that my chances of another pregnancy are now non existent. But Rowan and I are happy. We have our big family. So, Dalamar has blond hair, much fairer than mine and very light blue eyes. He is a gorgeous wee boy. In terms of personality he is halfway between his sisters. He can be adorable one moment and stubborn like a mule the next. But at least they get along and again, Freyja has taken him under her wing. She really is our knight in shining armour. Both girls are fluent Gaelic speakers. After they were born I asked Rowan if he wanted to teach Gaelic to the girls and he had been very happy about it. So we decided that he would speak only Gaelic to the girls and I was the boring parents with English, although sometimes I am brave and I practice with them, then I embarrass myself and revert to English. We have started the same process with Dalamar and he is like a sponge. Morrigan sometimes helps me with my exercises and Gaelic homework. I am taking classes as well when I can. It’s quite embarrassing when you are almost forty and your five years old daughter tells you “Don’t worry mum, you are doing great.” And then adds something in Gaelic and you need to wait for your husband for a translation. Kids, aside… our lives haven’t changed very much. Rowan still works at the bookstore and Malcolm’s sister is still his assistant. She had been wonderful and he could easily count on her when he needed to stay at home with me and the kids. The shop is becoming very popular, my Facebook page has now reached many followers and a year after our daughters were born he finally managed to set up a website for online ordering. My dearest husband also managed to write a book, find an editor and have it printed and distributed in some smaller bookstores. Of course I told him to have in his shop. We did a book signing hoopla and I don’t think I ever seen Rowan so embarrassed. Anyway, he wrote a fantasy and as promised I was in it and I was Queen as requested. He was my warrior. Loads of angst and epic battles but we end up together. I am very proud of him. Now he is working on one were our children are the main characters. I have only read the fist few chapters and I love it already. But I am his wife so I am biased. I still work at the hospital and still love my job. I started helping as well as paramedic and specifically in the air squad. The team that gets to be airlifted at the site of accidents and the whole thing required a special type of training and it had been amazing. On occasions, I get to work with Aedion. He flies, I save lives. I wish I could tell the London guys that they were wrong. Working in a small hospital is not throwing away my career. I feel more satisfied than I ever felt when I was down south. Malcolm is still my second and I still adore him. Three years ago he finally got married. After my wedding Aiden went for his last deployment and made it back alive and then retired from the navy. He and Malcolm started dating seriously. A year later they moved in together and a year after that Malcolm finally proposed. Aiden has found a civilian job and well, they got their happily ever after. Another couple who got their happily ever after is Lysandra and Aedion. He proposed about five months after mine and Rowan’s wedding and three months later they were married. They had gone for a very small and private ceremony. One year later they had their fist child a boy named Marcus and now Lysandra is pregnant with their second, a girl. She climbed up again the ladder at the hospital and now she is just one level below the head of the department. Then we have Elias. How can I forget him? He is still in Shetland and we keep in touch and we meet when he is back on the islands. His job is going wonderfully and recently got promoted. Two years ago he got married to Ciara and he is happy and a few months ago she gave birth to an adorable little girl named Martha. She is cute. I have seen her when they came down last month. We remained good friends and both had the happy ending we wanted. We still joke and we love to compliment each other on making marriage number two stick. His book addiction got worse and I think I created a monster. He also bought Rowan’s book and raved about it for months. Then we have Elide and Lorcan. We see each other quite regularly. Every year in July they come to Heb Celt and now they can stay at our place. We have been down to Glasgow a few times and Lorcan yearly provides Rowan with tickets for the Six Nations and we religiously go and see the matches. I am officially a Scotland’s fan and I even learnt Flower of Scotland. The boys are proud of me. Elide is still a teacher and Lorcan still the coach of the Warriors. Their family has gotten bigger as well and they have a boy and a girl and Elide is expecting a third one. Apparently they want a big family too. Oh and Lorcan can smile for more than a second. I must admit I have changed my mind about the man and once he gets comfortable with someone he is actually quite a decent human being. He as a dark sense of humour and us two are usually the ones scandalising the group with dark jokes. Aunt Maeve is still running her cafe and she had been a great help as well while the kids were growing up. She would come up with crazy excuses to offer to babysit them and gave us plenty of chances for me and Rowan to have some time alone. Especially after the two births. She also spoils the girls and love to bake for them. Freyja loves to bake with Maeve and, like me is obsessed with cakes. Also, baking is the only activity when our energetic daughter can stay still for more than ten minutes. Morrigan, on the other hand is fussy as her father and not a fan of sweet stuff. We really got one clone each. Dalamar is still too small but he eats anything. My mum has joined the group as well. She has bought a flat up here and sold the house in London. She decided that she wanted to be a part of her grandchildren lives so she moved up here and she is in good terms with Maeve and sometimes she helps her at the cafe. The two of them cooking are becoming very popular in town.

***

“Come on, let’s go and see dad in the shop.” Aelin took Dalamar’s hand and made sure the twins were walking in front of her. Morrigan started blabbing something in Gaelic but Aelin didn’t understand. “Beurla, mo chridhe,” said Aelin to her daughter. “Tha mi duilich, mum.” Morrigan gave her a toothy smile, showing off her missing tooth. They walked to the shop and once they got in the two girls ran to their father who crouched down and they crashed into him. “I bring chaos.” Joked Aelin while Dalamar was still holding her hand. Rowan had started hosting afternoon for kids in his shop when he would reads books or just have storytelling sessions. He had started during the school holidays to have a way to keep the younger children busy but then it became very popular and he kept going, so once a week the shop is invaded by parents and their kids. The twins loved to listen to their dad tell stories. Dalamar loved it as well but he was far too young to understand what was happening so most of the times he would end up playing with Lys and Aedion’s son Marcus. Aelin reached Rowan and gave him a kiss and the twins made disgusted noises and Aelin laughed “one day you will find a boy or a girl and you’ll want to kiss him or her as well and it won’t be as disgusting,” she said tickling Freyja who was the one who was the most disgusted. “I am going to be a knight. I don’t need a boy.” Added Freyja proudly. “I am going to be a doctor like mum.” Was Morrigan’s turn. “So, a knight and a doctor, I guess we got very lucky.” Rowan pulled Aelin in his arms “looks like the goddess of love wants to fight and is not interested in love and the goddess of war wants to heal people.” “Well, you can’t say that we don’t have an interesting family.” Joked Aelin. Then Rowan bend over and lifted Dalamar in his arms “and you?” He kissed his cheek “what do you want to do?” “Tuathanach.” Replied the boy hugging his father. Aelin laughed and brushed his blond hair “that is lovely, my love.” With time and once they were properly settled down they had decided to dedicate a part of the land they owned to have a small farm. They had a couple of cows, a few chickens and loads of sheep. Dalamar loved to run after the sheep and help his dad look after the animals. That’s why Aelin and Rowan were not surprised when he said he wanted to be a farmer. The twins went behind the counter and grabbed the colouring books that Rowan kept stashed for when he had them in the shop and the pencils and ran to the kids’ table at the bottom of the shop. Rowan placed Dalamar on the floor “Go and colour with your sisters.” “Tha.” And the boy joined the two girls. Aelin leaned exhausted against Rowan. “You look tired.” “They have far too much energy. We went to the park. Freyja ran and jumped the whole time. Morrigan wanted to pat the ducks and almost ended up in the pond and Dalamar chased every single dog or cat.” She explained, looking at their kids with affection “then we had ice cream, we went to say hi to Aunt Maeve and grandma Evalin and Freyja and Dalamar stuffed themselves with carrot cake. Morrigan just had a carrot. She is annoyingly healthy like you.” “My girl.” Said Rowan proudly. “Don’t get me wrong, I love them madly, but I just wished they had just a smidge less energy.” Rowan kissed her forehead “I’ll entertain them tonight and make sure they go to bed early. Hopefully they will run out of energy soon.” “Morrigan and Dalamar perhaps. Not Freyja, that girl has limitless power.” “Just like her mother.” Rowan’s arms squeezed her tight “The girls are going to school next month so hopefully they will calm down a bit.” “I am terrified at the idea of Freyja sitting on a chair all day. I feel sorry for the poor teacher.” Rowan laughed “she might find it interesting and actually sit.” “Ro, she can’t even stay still when you read stories.” He scratched his head “I was thinking we can sign her up for some sport.” “You can take her swimming.” Suggested Aelin. Rowan had kept his job as swimming instructor with Dorian and they had made it work. When the kids were at home she would take them to the swimming complex and once Rowan was done they would all swim together. He had begun teaching the twins to float and some very basics techniques. Freyja had loved it, but she preferred jumping from the smallest platform. Morrigan on the other hand had been a good student and had followed her dad’s instructions and could do a nice basic breaststroke. Dalamar would soak with Aelin with his water wings. He loved being in the water. “She could become one of those athletes who jump from platforms into water. A professional diver. She is surely fearless for a five years old.” “I can see her as a rugby player.” And Aelin laughed. “We’ll let her decide.” “Of course,”Aelin kissed him “Look, some mum and kids are arriving.” Rowan was due to start his storytelling session very soon and mothers, fathers and kids had started to arrive in the shop. Five minutes later Rowan took his position at the bottom of the shop on his chair. All the kids sat on the floor on the colourful mats Rowan had bought. Morrigan and Dalamar would sit at his feet, but Rowan would alway keep Freyja in his arms so he could hold her still for a while. “Thank you everyone for coming this afternoon. Kids, are you all comfortable?” Aelin stood in a corner and stared at him as per her usual. Rowan was such a natural around kids. It had been so easy for him to settle into his role as a dad. He had been amazing with their kids and he’d do literally anything to make them happy. But at the same time he had managed to keep the wonderful balance to prevent them to become spoiled brats whose parents would give them anything. “Today’s story is about a princess. Her name is Aelin.” “Like mum.” shouted Freyja in her father’s arms. “Tha, mo chridhe.” And Rowan kissed her head and a smug smile appeared on the girl’s face. “She is fierce and brave and very, very beautiful. So beautiful that all the princes in the realm wanted to marry her.” Aelin laughed and blushed a bit. “Is there a dragon?” Asked Freyja who seemed had already passed her attention span limit. “Shhh, my love.” But he knew it was a desperate hope. “The princess had been put under a spell by her horrible stepmother who was very jealous of her. She could not enjoy true love with the man she loved until the dragon that held the necklace with the spell was killed. Aelin was in love with the captain of the guard, a man called Rowan. The wicked stepmother had found out and so punished her. She had planned to marry her off to a wealthy old man.” When Aelin noticed Freyja was getting fidgety, she took a chair and sat beside her husband and grabbed their daughter so that he could continue his tale. “Rowan offered to go on a quest and kill the dragon but Aelin refused to be left behind. She was not a damsel in distress. So during the night she gathered some of her stuff, donned her armour and together they set off on an adventure. During their trip he would train her with the sword so she could defend herself. It took them a few months but they did manage to reach the dragon’s lair.” “Dragon.” Freyja was ecstatic and Aelin held her tight. “But while they took the path through the magic forest to reach the dragon lair, Rowan and Aelin got separated. The forest was very dangerous but they were both very brave and fought all the perils and when Aelin finally reached the lair she saw that Rowan was already there but he was injured. She drew her sword and decided to face the dragon alone. In the forest she had discovered that she had fire magic and she wanted to punish the dragon. So she started fighting him, but the dragon was huge and she was getting tired. In that instant Rowan woke up again and walked to her. Together they fought the dragon and eventually killed it and destroyed the necklace, setting Aelin free. She finally kissed him and slowly they returned back home. Once back at the castle, they discovered the wicked mother was gone and Aelin and Rowan decided to get married. They invited all the villagers and they lived happily ever after.” Rowan had to simplify the story to make it acceptable to young kids but they seemed to have liked it. He told a few more stories and two hours later the shop was empty and he was alone again with his family. Dalamar had fallen asleep in Aelin’s arms. Morrigan had gone back to her colouring book and Freyja was pretending to be a knight, swinging around the toy sword Rowan had given her. “I am princess Aelin and I kill dragons.” She shouted while Rowan chased her around the shop. Rowan finally grabbed her and lifted her like a sack of potatoes “dad, the dragon,” she protested while trying to wriggle out of her father’s grip. “Freyja!” Aelin noticed Rowan’s command voice. The one that could actually slow down the little terror. The girl stopped moving and Rowan sat her down beside her sister and she grabbed a colouring book and joined Morrigan in silence. “You really have super powers.” Rowan leaned over to kiss his wife’s head “Give me ten minutes and we’ll go home.”

Half an hour later they were finally at home. Rowan carried a sleepy Morrigan and Aelin carried Dalamar who had been sleeping for an hour now. Freyja had followed in silence, with her sword tucked in the belt loop of her trousers. “I’ll make dinner, you change the kids.” Aelin nodded “Let’s go Freyja it’s jammies time.” The little girl gave her a huge smile and followed her mother with Morrigan at her side. Aelin placed Dalamar on the bed, and helped the two girls change into their night clothes. “Did you have fun at dad’s tonight?” “Yes.” They both squealed. Once they were ready, Aelin tied Freyja’s hair “now go back downstairs to dad but let him cook, okay?” The two girls nodded and left the room. Aelin grabbed her little boy and took him to his room, changed him into his pyjama and tucked him in bed “I love you,” she told him while kissing him on the cheek. Then grabbed the baby monitor and joined the rest of her family downstairs. The twins were on the carpet playing quietly with Morrigan’s planes. Aelin joined Rowan and hugged him from behind “Dalamar is in bed and the girls are playing.” She kissed his back “and your food smells amazing.” “Freyja finally calmed down.” “My mum says that she reminds her of me when I was little.” Aelin squeezed him. He switched off the hob and turned engulfing her in his arms “It does not surprise me.” And he kissed her deeply and Aelin replied in the same manner. He pushed her to the table and she grabbed his butt pulling him to her and she moaned against his mouth. He kissed her neck and Aelin’s hands found their way under his t-shirt. Then she pulled away “Ro, the kids are in the other room and awake.” Rowan leaned his forehead against hers cupping her face in his hands. The kiss he gave her was full of need and love “I know.” He sighed pulling away. Their intimate life had taken a bit of a hit and most nights they were too tired to even try and do something. The last time they had managed to get some action was when Aelin’s mother had kidnapped their kids for an entire weekend four months before. And the mornings were not good either because the twins had the habit of waking up and joining their parents in bed for some family cuddling. Aelin crashed her forehead on his chest “I miss our wall…” she laughed “but I know that I would fall asleep as soon as my back hits it.” Rowan kissed her again “I miss you too.” Then pulled away “Come one, let’s go and feed our hurricanes.” In that instant she heard Dalamar calling her through the baby monitor and five minutes later Aelin was downstairs with a weepy boy in her arms “Someone else is joining us for dinner.” The five of them had dinner and once they were done the kids moved to the sofa and Aelin gave them her old laptop so they could watch their hour of tv. She and Rowan had never bought a tv and the kids never asked for it but allowed them to watch an hour of cartoons on Netflix in the evening after dinner while they cleaned up. Most of times they got bored after half an hour and went back playing until bed time but when they were tired they did manage their hour. “They are watching Totoro again.” Said Aelin, joining Rowan in the kitchen with a pile of dishes then she grabbed a towel and started drying all the ones he had already washed. “They do love Totoro.” He added smiling. “Morrigan the other day said she wants to study Japanese so she could talk to Totoro and Freyja wants to go in the woods to look for him.” Rowan roared with laughter “I love the idea of studying Japanese, though.” “Our two wonderful weirdos.”Aelin stored away all the dishes. Once they were done they got back in the living room and silence reigned. The laptop was on the carpet and the three kids were are all hugged together on the sofa. Dalamar sleeping on Freyja’s chest like in the scene where Mei sleeps on Totoro’s belly, her arms protectively around her brother’s back. Morrigan was snuggled against her sister, her hand holding one of Freyja’s. Aelin gasped at the scene and Rowan pulled her to him and kissed her head “they are finally fell asleep.” He turned Aelin and held her from behind, his chin on her head and his arms tight around her. “This is it, Buzzard. This is my island dream.” Rowan kissed her temple. “This is my dream too.”

TAG:

@rowaelinismyotp

Wynne's Diary - Celebration with Asra

@sweetalnazar

Today was a day to revel and celebrate, to enjoy the peaceful Vesuvian night sky conferred upon us and the pleasant wind bussing our faces and enlivening our minds. And what's the occasion you ask? Well, today was my and Asra's anniversary of our first meeting, and also the day we both got married. So not only it was our wedding anniversary, but also the anniversary of the first time we saw each other's stupid happy faces, and it all started when we were just kids.

We were so.....innocent at that time. It all felt like a dream remembering the memory, maybe because it seemed too perfect to be true. Even our wedding was like a utopia, with him in a stunning white dress which matched his snowy hair and golden skin, while I wore the colour of passionate red, my face covered with a lace veil as blush dominated my cheeks. We said our vows to each other, promising to never break apart and protect, as our kiss locked both of us together, and since then, our hearts had started beating for one another.

"I hope he remembers it" Said the me who was sitting near the shop's counter, waiting for a certain magician with a silly black hat. He was gone to one of his trips again, leaving me and Ichigo alone and longing for his arrival. He had announced that he was going to come after a week, and that's today, and he sure was taking his sweet time. Ugh, did this had to be on our anniversary????

I sighed and rested my cheek on my hand, my stare getting tired of the door and slowly slipping to the knickknacks placed all around collected through time and care. Asra wasn't a person to be highly organized, but he did like everything to be clean and gleaming from polish. The way I have seen him tidying the trinkets was similar to a mother bathing her child. With gentle care and patience, and not go too harsh over the delicate surface.

Asra was known to be a thoughtful guy. A guy who puts his loved ones' troubles over his own. He is as nimble as a swan, but also have the mischief and rascality of a fellow monkey. The mystic novelty in his amethyst eyes and his satiny locks of white hair hems his handsome face so faultlessly. His lips plump and mellow, and the slight dimple on his cheek when he smiles compliments his soft nature. And his slender body which did not lack vitality and determination yet was warm to touch as feeling the softest of essences.

And me knowing him for so many years. And maybe.......how he had made a place in my heart so effortlessly by his compassion, his receptive nature, and his soft affection accompanied with luscious kisses and solacing hugs I receive almost every day,

Must be the reason why I fell in love with such a dumbhead.

"Honey, I'm home" I heard a very familiar voice. I straight away got up from my seat and walked around the counter to greet my husband. His dearest familiar was dangling around his neck, her sleek body relaxed as she looked at me with her ruby orbs.

"Home!" I heard the sweet snake exclaim.

"Hello Faust, hello Asra" I greeted with a small smile on my lips.

"Hello, sweetheart" Asra smoothly wrapped his arm around my waist, only to pull me closer and place a small sensual kiss upon my lips. His hot breath tickled my skin and I felt a rush of recollections because damn...I missed him.

"How was your trip honey?" I whispered to him, my hand instinctively reaching out to curl his hair around one of my fingers as I glanced into those mesmerising eyes.

"Wonderful. But that doesn't mean I didn't miss you very badly" Asra placed another kiss on my forehead, his hand still on my waist as his fingers gently massaged my side, while I lightly quivered.

"Very badly? Well, you deserved it. It's your fault that you didn't take me with you" I smirked and crossed my arms, shifting my weight on one leg.

"I know Dear.....I know. But I had to go alone. I had a reason to not bring you there. Also, it was a very long travel, and you know when you can't travel when you are-"

"On my period, yeah. It hella hurts. Good thing it ended today. Also, you came back" I shrugged and nudged his shoulder.

"So! Since you are finally home, why don't you go upstairs and take a bath? You fucking stink" I smiled at him sweetly.

Asra chuckled and patted my head, muttering 'sure' as he removed his satchel from his shoulder to place it on the counter, and removed his shoes to move up the stairs. I watched him walking till he was finally out of sight. For his return and surprise secret anniversary gift, I had prepared his favourite food and set up a dinner with belladonnas and vanilla-scented candles.

I hope he likes it. That's honestly all that I wanted from him, along with remembering the special day of course. Because I was not a person to celebrate anniversaries with such enthusiasm, but this time I decided to change my mind as I felt that this day won't disappoint me enough to leave me vacant and bored.

However, who knows if he would remember. It happened in such a blink of the time anyway. And we all are humans with limited memory at the end of the day. And forgetting has nothing to be heartbroken about. Because if you do, it's like you are blaming the nature of your kind just because they couldn't remember your birthday.

But.......damn......

Dissatisfaction sure is a deep word and it does feel deep.

"Mmm...what's that smell? It's amazing" With a towel around his shoulders, Asra descended the stairs. He was wearing a new pair of casual clothes, the droplets at the end of his curls slightly shimmered under the light. Faust slithered down with him who was also as wet as her master from the bath and she quickly climbed around my leg to stop near my nose, waiting for me to give her the pets.

I softly giggled and caressed her cheek, and slowly my finger made its way onto her chin as my nail gently scratched it.

"You missed me?" I bashfully asked her.

"Blueberry!" She called out in reply.

I genuinely laughed at what she said. Blueberry was a nickname Faust gave me because of my deep blue hair. And being truthful, it was adorable because I was glad that a sweetheart like her adored me, as much I adored her.

"Oh...Wynne!" A surprised voice of Asra reached my ears from the dining table. I internally grinned since I already had guessed the reason for his outcry. I got up, Faust now resting on my shoulders as I made my way towards him, a tiny beam finding its way to my lips.

"You like it?" I asked him, patiently waiting for his response.

"I......Is this for me???" He sat down on the chair, his mouth agape and watering a bit. front of him, blue-tongued skink, hot and ready with different sauces and condiments evenly spread on the meat and garnished with coriander and star anise. Made by yours truly, obviously~

"Of course it's for you, silly. Who else eats such a bizarre thing other than you?" I playfully mocked him, crossing my arms.

"It's.....It looks delicious, Love. You really must have worked hard making this for me" his eyes shifted to me, hitting me with nostalgia again. Because he looked just like how I met him for the first time. An excited, inquisitive and sweet innocent child.

I blinked at his inference and chuckled, shaking my head lightly.

"No dear. Not at all. It wasn't a burden, except for realising that I killed a harmless skink and ruined its plans of becoming successful and achieve something in life" I inaudibly whispered the last part.

"BUT! Preparing the dish was easy enough. It didn't take me much time and skill to make it of your preference" I waved my hand in dismissing.

"I see.....I....thank you, Wynne. I appreciate it. Though you didn't have to" a timid fluster danced on his cheeks.

"Oh shut up now. Take a bite and tell me how is it before it runs cold" I told him, snorting.

"O-Oh yes. Sorry" he finally took the trouble to lift his fork and cut a bite out of his food to keep it in his mouth. He chewed properly, savouring the taste on his tongue, letting the texture touch his throat and spice and juices sink in. He moaned from enjoyment, closing his eyes. Assuming it to be a positive reaction, I smiled from satisfaction myself.

"Amazing....just amazing, Wynne. It's very scrumptious and well-done. And you cooked it just how I like. You are the best. Thank you for the food" he grinned happily at me.

"Of course, sweetheart. Your welcome. If you are happy, then I am happy too" I placed a hand near my chest, smiling thankfully.

My eyes had nothing but love and care for him, and never anything else. One of my goals is that I always keep him satisfied and without any deprivation of needs and that he never feels left out and unattended while I'm around. As his wife, it was like my duty to keep him happy. I call it a duty, not because it's like a compelled action or service, but because I'm going to be loyal and wholehearted to him, just like he was committed to me.

And fuck, I loved him so much. And I'm so glad we both met out of an immature headbutt.

"But....may I ask you something?" Asra spoke.

"Yeah?" I replied.

"What's the occasion for preparing all of this? My favourite flowers, my favourite food. Vanilla candles. Everything I like is here. Is today something important?"

I brutally froze. The question he asked had not only shattered all of my further anticipations but also unintentionally panged the beating organ in my chest hard. Did.....did he not know what today was? Did he forget it? Out of anyone I ever knew, I never expected in my fantasies ever that Asra would be the one to meet my scepticism. It....it was terrible, and the sorrow I felt was indescribable.

Yet I didn't show my immense setback on my face or in my voice, as I smiled brightly at him and answered.

"No occasion at all, sweetie. I just wanted to please you. You know, I just thought about preparing it for you. There is no particular reason at all" I deported again, trying hard to not let my true feelings slip out in any way. And luckily, Asra didn't see anything. He just nodded and continued eating, and seeing the slight bit of chance I ran away upstairs as quick as I can, Faust slipping from my shoulders and landing on the table.

"Blueberry??" She called out, but I didn't want to reply, definitely not with the emotional state I was in. I immediately rushed to the balcony and stopped near the rails. The wind rushed towards me like a sprinting wolf. It whooshed through my hair, it hit my eyes, and it dried my lips. I felt awful, but it calmed me down. I was feeling much better because the pain in my heart was replaced by dryness, and the tears that came from my eyes weren't due to melancholy but due to lack of moisture. It was horrible, but I felt at peace. And much more dead.

"Wynne!" I felt footsteps behind me, but I didn't dare to turn back. It was over for me, it was all over. I didn't want to see his face nor I wanted to cry in the middle and make him even more nervous and guilty. I just.....wanted to disappear and pretend nothing bad like this ever happened. And the dream was a dream, and not a reality. That I and Asra never met, and never did we marry and kiss under the stars. We never did. Because I never was there to bump him on the head or to scream on his face that I fucking fell in love with him-

"This is for you" I felt him taking my hand, but after that, I felt something foreign on my palm. It gave the impression of a small box, as small as a ball to be true. I wondered what the hell it might be, so I finally turned to meet his eyes, and he did nothing except stroke my cheek and whisper huskily in my ear to open the box.

I trembled again, but obeyed him without protesting and started to tear the purple wrapping. I was quick because I didn't want to take too much of both of our time. Now, what would he had brought for me after literally forgetting the day of our wedding I wondered.

But turns out.....he never did.

On my palm and the remnants of the paper lied a big jewel of blue diamond. It was brand new and it sparkled enough to lit both of our faces under the night. The transparent gem shone like the full moon after twilight, and every edge was polished to perfection with each cut precisely and delicately done. It was like a very ornate mirror because I swear I saw myself inside the stone.

What was on my palm was one of the best handiwork I had ever seen, and it now rightfully belonged to me.

"Asra......This!"

"Happy Anniversary...Wynne Alnazar...." He came closer to me and lightly placed a kiss on my cheek.

Before he could speak even one syllable or move any muscle, I lunged onto him and embraced his body close. Asra gasped a bit, but he was not stunned at all. He enveloped me back, slightly lifting me and burying his face in my neck as he inhaled my scent and peppered my soft spots with kisses, his hands stroking my back and my hips.

"You remembered......You remembered!" I breathed out.

"Of course I remembered. It's our anniversary, Dear. I would never forget it. Because I love you, Wynne. I love you so much, and I will never dare to forget how I met the love of my life" he hugged me even tighter.

"Thank you, Asra......Thank you.....I love you so much too!" I finally broke down in his arms. I couldn't control the overwhelming emotions anymore as I spilt them out in the form of tears, but he was there for me, and I had nothing to hide from him anymore.

Words really cannot describe how delighted I was feeling. But I sure can tell one thing, that I did make a new dream with him. But it was not the jewel which made me feel so ecstatic like this, it was him, and his idiotic self only. A whole new dream where me and him together, celebrate and reminisce the day we tied knots, the day we entwined our hands. And the day we almost broke our heads at the first meeting.

Because today......was the day we breathe together, live together, and love together.

Till no one does us apart.

Daylight; 

full masterlist

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x female!reader 

Word count: 1,721

Warning: FLUFF!!!! just two people being in love!!! but a little angst on bucky’s part though. (dont worry it’s got a happy ending) 

Summary: bucky has his own unhealthy ways to deal with his demons but your love heals and changes him. 

a/n: this one was inspired by @promptlywritingideas‘s prompts and i just immediately thought of bucky because i’m a soft ass bitch when it comes to bucky barnes. also! yes, i did use a lyric from daylight by taylor swift bc this song is literally everything alright, please listen to it if you haven’t. it’s the most reviving song ever. also, credit to @seedaylight​ for this lovely picture! 

The bead of sweats rolled off Bucky’s forehead to his neck, his shirt and the floor, constructing small ponds of indignation that was left masked, unspoken and obliterated. At least that was what he had been aiming for as long as he could remember. The battered punching bag stayed robust and resilient despite the vigour of Bucky’s punches. The bleeding on his knuckles cracked through the split skin due to the brutal strikes.

But he couldn’t stop. The pain from the wounds still couldn’t compare to the demons haunting his mind. The ghosts in his dreams that refused to let him have his peaceful rest at night are the reasons why he was in the empty gym room at 3 am in the morning instead of being curled up in the warm sheets with the divine figure snoring next to him.

The silence of the solitude eased his mind, feeling like he was given the space and seclusion that he always yearned for. He was certainly grateful for what he had been given now; a lavish compound with excellent amenities and exceptional technologies, a ragtag group of people that had welcomed him with open arms and accepted him as part of their cluttered makeshift family, a much higher and noble purpose that allowed him to utilize his cursed, undesired superpowers for good and lastly, the foremost one out of all; you.

You, a blessing in his life that he never once imagined he’d ever get have in his long, agonizing life after all the wickedness he had committed. You, who loved him and believed in him anyway, even when he had lost faith in himself centuries ago. You, who permitted him to touch you in the most intimate manners and you, who were willing to be devoted to him even when he felt absolutely undeserving of your goodness and loyalty.

Bucky was a grateful man. He should’ve been. He was, it’s just- there was still a part of him that didn’t return and died in the ages of his Winter Soldier days. The days where he was merely a damaged soldier, a fractured puppet doll on a string, just waiting to be torn apart and stitched back together again just for the sake of more murders and more crimes.

He was slowly recovering though, each day, when he got a taste of your lips, when he watched you slowly wake up in the morning light, when your limbs were tangled within each other, that you couldn’t figure out where he began and you ended. But just because he was happy and he was grateful, doesn’t mean that all the sins of his past catching up to him would spontaneously combust in the blink of an eye.

He had his own baggage and he was going to deal with them. Most days, especially when he was surrounded by the love of his life and his makeshift family, he would pretend that all is well and healing was all there was. But at night, he’d slowly lift her arm that was circled around his waist off of him and quietly snuck out to his favourite place to be at midnight.

So that’s how he ended up in this sweaty state in the middle of the night. His mind recalled the fragments of memories during his Winter Soldier days that he fought to forget but they were stronger. It was faint and distant but, it still lingered in his mind like it was just yesterday.

The faces of his victims before he shot a bullet right through their skulls loomed. Their begs for mercy echoed in his ears. And the guilt consciously devoured his heart alive, like a cobra swallowing its feeble prey.

“Bucky…?” The delicate voice alerted him out of his tumultuous daze.

Bucky halted and turned his body around to the entrance, where you were standing in a plain white tank top and your bottom shorts with a wool cardigan hugging your form daintily. You looked so endearing in your half drowsy state, as you rubbed your eye, whilst trying to adjust to the brightness of the room. You always preferred being in the dark, after all. Beaming lights always hurt your sight.

“Sweetheart, what are you doing up?”

“I was looking for you. I got cold and I wanted to cuddle.”

He approached you deliberately with his boxing gloves still on, “go back to bed, alright? I’ll be up with you in a minute.”

“No, I’m not going back to bed without you.”

“I can’t, y/n.”

“Why?” It was a futile rhetorical question. You knew better than anyone why he was here.

“Y/N, I-”

“Oh God, Bucky, I love you. But this has to stop.”

“Y/N, it’s not that- I’m sorry but… what?” He was uncertain whether he got the last part right.

The truth is, Bucky knew he loved you since the first moment you courageously approached him like he wasn’t one of the deadliest assassins in history. He loved you the grace of your smile, he loved the way you mindlessly danced to your favourite song and the way you’d make silly jokes that he rarely understood to comfort your dearest teammates.

But within the six months you had been dating, you and Bucky hadn’t said the three special words yet to each other. You were taking it slow, knowing that you could trust and be honest with each other, and that you’d always have each other’s backs, whether it be on missions or in secret moments. So you didn’t feel the need to rush what you had, fearing that one might scare the other and destroy the precious plants that you both watered until they turn into an entire garden together.

“What?” You were just as puzzled as he was. You somnolent state of mind didn’t realize that you had just blatantly declared the most potent three words to him when all you intended was to break him off his deleterious habits.  

But the truth was, you really did love him. You had loved him before you even realized it. It took you a while to fall in love with him, but before you and Bucky finally stopped playing around and acting coy with your real emotions around each other, you had possessed this profound affection for him like a lifelong childhood best friend.

The way his kind baby blue eyes always nudged your soft spot… It always pulled you in like you were walking into a house and you just suddenly knew that you were home. Familiar and warm. That’s what you always felt with Bucky around you. Long before he was even yours.

So when you mindlessly uttered those words, it felt like second nature. Something that just felt so natural to your lips. Bucky walked into your life with such rare sincerity and your heart welcomed it with wide, open arms.

“Those three words… Say it again.”

“…Has to stop?” You shot him a questioning look. It took you a few seconds to realize what you just said. You were starting to panic despite your sluggish state. It’s like Bucky’s question was a wakeup call and it jolted you awake like icy water thrown right onto your face without a warning. You could not believe you were clumsy enough to let the three worlds roll out of your lips.

Oh God, alright, quick, think of something clever, something rational, something that could undo what you just recklessly spurted-

“No no, the words before that.” Bucky quizzically assessed your face.

“Pretty sure I said ‘this has’ before that. I mean, I don’t know,” you scratched your forehead like a kid lying to her teacher about forgetting her homework. “I don’t really remember much, it doesn’t matter anyway, I was half asleep and I was just babbl-”

And then, you felt silky plump lips slamming yours in the most jovial way. He deepened his kiss with his massive hands grabbing your face so delicately as if he was holding a fragile china doll. He caressed your cheek with his thumbs as if he was memorizing every feature on your seraphic face.

He retreated and stared lovingly into your widen eyes. It’s not like it was the first time he surprised you with a kiss, but it’s the unheralded reaction that you thought would’ve been the doom for the two of you. You thought you might’ve frightened him away but it was rather the exact opposite. From the smile on his face, he seemed rather fond. “I love you too.”

Your lips were slightly agape. “You do…?”

“Yes, I do. It took me a while to say that because I thought you weren’t ready to hear it or say it back and I don’t wanna scare you or make you feel guilty so I thought I should wait. But I guess, I don’t have to anymore, now.” His eyes sparkled.

“But we still need to address one thing though, you can’t keep doing this. Every night, you’d sneak into the gym and break your knuckles instead of talking to me. I want you to be honest with me. I want you to trust me. And if we don’t have those then, love is just an illusion.”

His face that was gleaming turned into a frown. There was that sealed off look and hesitation on his face again.

“I’m not asking you to cut yourself open and let me see everything. I just need you to try to let me comfort you instead of hiding in the dark and bleed yourself out every midnight when you should be in bed with me.”

“I’m a work in progress doll, but for you, I’ll try.”

“Promise?”

“I promise.”

And you made a vow to your heart as well that you would walk with him in the murk, no matter how excruciating and dull the road to recovery is. And you would hold his hand and guide him every step of the way. Because there’s no one else you’d rather share the torturous nights and the mundane days with than him. You would rather share countless arguments and overflowing tears with him than to spend a single peaceful night with someone else.

Because that was the love of your life. And you didn’t wanna look at anything else now that you saw him.

The Dreaming

Author: @eiramrelyat

Prompt: Ghost Peeta! Peeta is dead and Katniss doesn’t want to move on. She dreams of Peeta, talks to him but doesn’t realize he’s only a ghost of him, a shade. She also realizes that this is what love feels like. Because this is what love is, isn’t it? Needing someone the way Katniss needs Peeta. Needing him more than air, water, and food. “Stay with me”, she begged him. “Always”, he replied. {Angst/Horror or a haunting tone for Halloween} [submitted by @my-dearest-dear​]

Rating: T (Rating will change later.)

Author’s Note: I know the prompt asks for angst/ horror, which there is definitely quite a bit of angst in this part, but I also included fantasy as one of the genres. Also, you will not need to know the language used in this story beforehand. Everything will be explained in the text :)

This is part one. You will be able to find the continued parts of this story on AO3, as it will be long. And thank you @jroseley​ for proofreading, and my husband for idea building.

__________

“We shouldn’t be in here,” she tells Peeta, fingers clutching onto the sleeve of his tunic above his bracer. (She’s careful not to hold the torch in her other hand too close, though, as not to burn them.)

Peeta laughs, low and deep. The sound echoing off the damp walls of the cave. “Is my brave huntress scared?”

She scowls. “No, of course not.” Though a sound rumbling somewhere within the darkness makes her tighten her grip on him. He laughs again. “But I’ll admit this place makes me weary. It feels… alive. You must feel it too, don’t you?”

Peeta looks down at her, his mouth quirked ever so slightly. 

“I do,” he admits, but he doesn’t sound as worried as she. “We won’t be here long, I promise.”

His gaze drifts back to the stone wall, and he runs a long slender finger against one of the many markings, as though it will help him make sense of their meaning. “It’s in ancient Elvish. I think these carvings tell stories of the people. Our people, more specifically. Maybe they’re lost stories of the clan.” He pauses while moving further into the cave. 

She’s hesitant to follow, but this new revelation intrigues her. “What kind of stories?“ 

"Heroes. Misfortune. Love.” He points out a word to her. “Melin,” he says in a tongue she doesn’t recognize, but before she can ask, he continues, looking down at her with a faint smile. “It’s a tale between two lovers.”

“Oh.” She’s unable to keep the dreamy lilt from her voice. “What does it say?" 

He glances back at the wall, humming thoughtfully. "Well, it’s hard to translate some words to our common Elvish, but here,” he points to another word she doesn’t recognize or understand. “Mahlan. He was a warrior, and here,” he moves his finger, “Dar'lare. She was a healer." 

Peeta continues to reveal how the warrior returned to the clan injured after a war, and the healer helped tend his wounds. Over the time of the warrior’s recovery, they fell in love, but she was sworn to marry a noble from the Golden City. When the warrior prepared for war again, she made him promise that he’d come back. He told her to watch the horizon on the first day of the harvest moon; that’s when he’d return. 

The healer waited patiently for months. 

When the harvest moon came, and he did not return, she married the nobleman. The morning after her wedding, she walked to her warrior’s grave, where she placed a warrior plume against the freshly chiseled stone. She vowed she’d see her sa'lath again. 

That night, she drank from a vial of nightlock essence. She didn’t wait long until she fell into a deep sleep to be reunited with her warrior once more.

Katniss scrunches her nose once Peeta finishes the story. "That didn’t sound like a love story.”

His mouth twitches at the corners. “Not all love stories have happy endings. And I didn’t say it was a love story. I said they were lovers,” he says playfully.

He always has this way of making her feel dim. However, she rolls her eyes good-naturedly, knowing Peeta never does it with ill intent. 

“What does sa'lath mean?”

She gasps when he unexpectedly presses his fingers gently against the spot above her leather breastplate. “Soulmate.”

Heat blossoms in her face, though she’s unsure why. Maybe it was the memory of the night before when he helped her untie the same breastplate—the feel of his fingers ghosting across her skin, forming gooseflesh in their wake.

“Oh,” she breathes.

They explore the cave until the moonlight from outside disappears against the mass of darkness surrounding them. Peeta finds a few more stories to tell. Each tale brings them deeper and deeper. She almost forgets her hesitation about the mysterious place until a low hum from the damp stone makes her ears twitch.

“Wait, stop,” she tells him, placing an arm across his chest to prevent him from moving further. Peeta looks down at her, clearly surprised by her sudden movements. 

“What’s wrong?”

She can feel it again. That vibration beneath her boots. The strange echo off the walls… Then suddenly, the cave grows still. Not even the sound of the wind from outside can be heard. 

Katniss turns to ask Peeta if he can feel the strange shift in the air, yet no words come out when she opens her mouth. Peeta says something to her. Brows furrowed. She can’t hear him, and her brain reels toward panic. 

There’s the sensation of cotton in her ears, setting her off balance and causing her surroundings to tilt. The torch falls from her hand as she reaches out to Peeta to steady herself. His mouth still moves with silent words, yet he draws her into his chest and leans down.

“Wake up, Katniss,” he whispers against her ear. “Wake up." 

She jolts awake and looks around her room until she realizes she is alone. A wobbly stream of sunlight creeps in through the window until it washes a ray of warmth across her face. She reaches up to grip the pearl pendant resting against her chest, sighing and rolling it between her fingers. 

It was only a dream.

Except, the sick feeling of fear still constricts the back of her throat.

She attempts to shake off the dream, pushing away the covers and retrieving her leather armor off the floor. In the kitchen, she’s met by Prim’s bright smiles and her mother’s silence as she reaches for a slice of cheese and bread from the table.

"The sleeping draught helped?” her mother says while filling vials with a shimmering blue liquid. It’s not a question but an observation.

Still, Katniss nods. “Yes, it did.” She doesn’t mention that her dream ended in a nightmare and grabs another slice of cheese.

“That’s good to hear. I refilled the pouch for you while you were sleeping,” her mother replies. “It should help you on your trip.”

Hopefully, she won’t need it, she thinks.

“Thank you.”

Her mother looks up from her work, then shakes her head when she notices the dark pearl resting against her breastplate. “You shouldn’t be wearing that token, my child. You are no longer married.”

Prim jumps in her seat when Katniss sharply slams a fist against the table.

“I know my husband is dead,” she snaps at her mother before leaving the house to meet with the other hunters.

~~~~~

Near sundown, they stop to camp in a small grove near the edge of the forest. While the others set up their tents, Katniss rolls out a bedroll near the fire. It’s the only place on clan lands where the stars are visible through the canopy of branches and leaves.

“It’s not safe to be this close to raider territory,” she can hear Gale telling Johanna. “Are you trying to get us killed?”

“Lighten up. We’re the only ones out here." 

He releases a sigh of frustration. "Jo, we can’t afford to think like that. Not after-” Gale stops, his voice dropping to nearly a hushed whisper. But Katniss hears him anyway. “After what happened last time.”

She appreciates what he will not say, but it doesn’t stop her from thinking the words to herself. After what happened to Peeta. Without looking up, she knows they are watching her, waiting for her to break.

“Don’t worry, I’ll have Finnick and Bristel on watch. Besides, braids over there appears to be enjoying herself. Maybe you should try to do the same." 

Gale turns on his heel and storms over toward the fire, a look of frustration creasing his forehead. He stops to stand next to her but says nothing. Neither does she, for she was never any good at casual campfire conversation. 

"How are you holding up?” he finally says, still frowning.

She can tell he’s trying to occupy himself from marching back over to Johanna’s tent. So she gives him what minor distraction she can offer and answers his question.

“I’m fine,” she lies, crossing her arms over her chest.

“That’s good,” he tells her.

They stand in silence for a moment longer, watching as the flames in the fire attempt to reach up and grab more than just thin air. The fire almost succeeds once, sparks barely licking a few low hanging vines. After a moment, Gale turns to leave, but not before placing a heavy hand on her shoulder. “Try to get some rest. We leave at dawn.” Then he walks away toward his tent.

But she doesn’t sleep. She can’t.

She stops herself from reaching for the sleeping draught on her belt and busies her hands by sharpening her arrows. 

Except, after the third arrow, she can feel her eyes grow heavy. Her senses become dull. Even without the aid, fatigue swims across her vision. She accidentally cuts herself twice with the point of the arrowhead.

“Ouch!”

Finnick and Bristel look over at her, but Katniss waves them off.

She abandons the arrows, tossing them in a pile on the grass. Instead, she directs her attention to her surroundings, hoping it’ll distract her from sleep. Like, the breeze whistling through the trees. A wolf howling in the distance. Logs crackling in the fire. Branches breaking-

Wait.

More branches break, and she sits up, slowly reaching for her bow on the ground in front of her. But a hand slides over her mouth, stopping her, and she gasps. A mistake she realizes too late after catching the faint smell of ether on the intruder’s glove.

Then she keels forward and falls into quiet unconsciousness.

~~~~~ 

Something’s brushing against her forehead, and she can hear someone saying her name. 

“Katniss.”

When she opens her eyes, she’s met with harsh light, like looking into the sun. Then she blinks, and it softens to a warm glow. She’s looking at leaves and branches, then a shadow hovers over her, further blocking out the light.

“Katniss,” she hears again.

She squints, and her eyes steadily turn the shadowed mass into a familiar face. 

“Peeta?” He gives her a warm smile, pushing hair out of her face. “How are you here? Am I…” She swallows the word for fear of it being true.

“No,” he says, shaking his head. “There’s still light in you,” and he touches the center of her chest. His touch is cold against her skin, missing the warmth of a living person. He’s solid, though, and his chest visibly rises and falls.

She wonders if the poison running through her system is what’s creating her vivid dream. This doesn’t feel like a dream, though. She’s able to control her movements; her thoughts.

Peeta watches her closely as she moves to sit up, noticeably checking for any signs of discomfort. She takes in their surroundings and realizes that they’re in a garden. It’s similar to one she’d seen in the Golden City, except there isn’t a citadel in sight.

“Where are we?”

He glances around them as though forgetting where they are. “This is the Dreaming,” he begins to explain. “It is what separates spirits and the living. Think of it as a void between the two worlds.”

Katniss has heard of such things from elders who told stories to keep children from meddling with the spirits. But those tales contained night terrors and broodmothers, nothing compared to what she is encountering now.

“Is this a dream, then?” she asks, still believing this is too good to be real.

“Not exactly, but you’re asleep. Your mind is focused right now. It’s trying to stop your body from going into shock. That’s probably how you stumbled upon the Dreaming.” His face turns serious, a crease forming between his brows. She stops herself from reaching over and smoothing it away. “Do you remember what happened?”

She looks away, trying to remember. But her memory feels fuzzy, like looking at something under murky water.

“We… we were ambushed by raiders, and I-I think I was captured.”

“Are you hurt?”

“I don’t know.”

She turns back to Peeta, who has yet to take his eyes off her. 

It’s only been two months, but it feels like years since she’s looked at him. His hair, shorter than other warriors in their clan, still curled effortlessly against his forehead. The same scar from their first hunting trip together even marked the top of his sharp chin.

She’s unable to stop herself this time from reaching for him, cupping the side of his face in her hand. His right hand comes up to hold hers, turning his face to press his lips against her palm.

“Ma'lath,” he mumbles into her skin. 

Her heart leaps, and her focus slips. She can feel the edges of the Dreaming slowly shaking apart—the brightness from earlier returning. 

She’s waking up.

Katniss reaches up with her other hand, trying to hold on.

“Stay with me,” she begs.

Peeta rests his forehead against hers, and she closes her eyes. “Always,” he whispers. 

He sighs when she leans forward and presses her lips against his. They’re just as soft as she remembers. But after a second, the firmness of him fades, and he drifts through her fingers. Then, she wakes up.

"You don't have to worry I'm never going to touch you" with Dan pls????

Title: War of Hearts

This is definitely an AU and I am not apologizing. I’ve been watching the American TV show North and South. This is what happened.

When the war office had contacted you to let you know that your father was missing in action, the world had slowed. Your mother fell to her knees, and you saw her pray for his safe return. It was an act of desperation she had not shown in the years since your father had left to fight in the war, saying that she trusted God to bring him home and to pray for his safe return would be an act of doubt. Now, you watched fear overtake that feeling of assuredness. You watched her break as she buried her face in your skirts. Your roles reversed as you found yourself comforting her as she had always comforted you.

Locking eyes with the officer on your front step, you nodded. He gave you a regretful nod and left you to pick up the pieces.

Since then, days in your household were quiet. It was almost as if your mother were afraid that showing any sense of normalcy would be to show some higher power that your father was not truly needed, but you knew the truth. Your father was the other half of her heart. Without him, she was only half living. It was hard to watch, especially since you had no way of helping her cope, because you couldn’t fathom what it would be like to be so tethered to another person.

One day, you were sitting on the window seat in the parlor. Your needlework rested in your lap as you looked out at the sun shower on the other side of the glass. You always found sun showers to be a hypocritical kind of weather. It was as if the sky were offering hope while also mourning a loss. Looking to the west, you could see clearer skies, which you looked forward to, contemplating on taking a ride before dinner just to get out of the house. 

Movement caught your eye, and you turned towards the source. There was a horse riding through the gate of the house at top speed with two men atop it. One seemed worse for wear.

You were to your feet and running to the door, calling out for your mother. The door was thrown open as the horse came to a stop in front of the steps.

Feet raced towards you and your mother was out in the rain helping the wounded man from his horse. “Oh, darling,” she cried as she reunited with your father.

The other man wrapped an arm around your father’s back to lead him back into the house. Together with your mother, they got him up and into bed while you sent for the doctor. 

Once the doctor arrived, you were making tea to serve to this other man who had accompanied your father home. Out of the corner of your eye, you appraised him.

He was handsome, albeit a tad scruffy. Then again, the war had run long and you figured that men weren’t as concerned with their physical appearance as much as they were concerned with survival.

“Tea, Captain?” you asked as you set the tray on the table.

“I’ll have a cup, since you went through all the trouble,” he murmured, taking the proffered saucer. He watched you wearily, a look of sympathy in his eyes.

“You must have ridden for a long time,” you murmured as you settled on the sofa across from him.

“We road for days, Miss,” he replied, looking down at the amber liquid in his cup, no doubt wishing it was something stronger. “After the battle, we were separated from our unit. Then we came across a few rebel scouts. Your father was injured while we... dispatched them. I promised him I’d get him home to recover.”

“Father’s last letter through the lines said he was marching South and we would not hear from him for a while. You’re meaning to tell me that you made your way through rebel lines just to get him home?” you asked, wide-eyed.

“Miss, the General has always had my back. I just wanted to have his,” he said with a small smile.

You nodded, “I see. Well, if you’ll excuse me, Captain...?”

“Torrance,” he murmured. “Dan Torrance.”

“If you’ll excuse me, Captain Torrance, I’d like to check on my father,” you replied, getting up to leave.

When you reached the upstairs bedroom, you found your father propped up in bed. His eyes lit up when he saw you, “Well, if it isn’t my pride and joy.”

Your corners of your eyes crinkled as you came over to sit on the edge of his bed. Taking his hand, you placed a kiss to his knuckles, “You gave mother quite a scare.”

“I always keep her on her toes,” he said playfully, but there was guilt in his eyes. 

“We’re just glad you’re home,” you murmured, “Captain Torrance told me he snuck you through Rebel lines.”

“That the boy did. I’ll see to it that there’s a promotion in his future,” your father grinned. “He’s a fine man.”

“I’m sure he is.”

“And he’ll make a fine husband.”

“I’m sure his wife will be lucky to have him,” you replied absentmindedly.

“I’d like to see the two of you wed before he’s called back,” your father said pointedly.

“Wed?” you asked, trying to keep your voice under control. “But, father, I hardly know the man.”

“Darling, I want to know that should something happen to me, that you and your mother will be taken care of. I trust Captain Torrance with my life,” your father said adamantly.

“And I am expected to trust him with my heart?” you asked incredulously. Shaking your head in disbelief, you got up to leave, ignoring how your father called after you. 

Making your way down the stairs, you locked eyes with the Captain through the doorway as he sat across from your mother, no doubt regaling her with tales of his bravery. You felt hollow. The world seemed to spin like when your corset had been laced too tight when you were younger. You needed air. Stumbling towards the door, you walked out into the sun shower, walking blindly towards the garden.

A sun shower, you thought with disdain, the sun shining because my father has returned, yet mourning the loss of my freedom.

Footsteps thudded on the ground behind you and the rain stopped pelting your back. You looked up to see an umbrella over your head as the holder stood in the downpour.

“I take it he told you,” Captain Torrance sighed.

“Were you expecting a blushing bride?” you sniffed, “Because you will be sorely mistaken.”

“I didn’t ask for this.”

You rounded on him, “Oh, so you don’t even want me?”

Somehow, that hurt worse. You could see it in his eyes that he knew he regretted the words.

“Please, just come back inside,” he pleaded. 

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you nodded and followed him back into the house. You parted ways with him once inside, retreating to your room.

Captain Torrance stayed with your family, but you skirted around him to the best of your ability. Part of you figured that you should try to get to know him, seeing as he was to be your husband, but you needed to work through your own feelings first. 

Anger melted into nervousness as your wedding day approached. As you stood in front of your mirror, turning this way and that in your dress, you felt your heart fluttering in your chest.

“He’s a nice man,” your mother stated from the doorway.

“So I’ve been led to believe,” you sighed, smoothing out your dress.

Your mother crossed over to pick up your veil from the vanity. Carefully, she nestled it into your hair. “Your father wouldn’t make this match if he didn’t trust him.”

“I know,” you admitted, turning towards her. “Part of me just hoped that I would have some say in such a momentous decision.”

“That’s a luxury few have,” your mother said with a small smile. 

“But you love father,” you replied.

“I didn’t always,” she sighed, sitting on the edge of your bed. “Your father and I were married as part of an arrangement our fathers made when they were at West Point together. It further solidified their friendship. Growing up, I greatly disliked your father.” She leaned in conspiratorially, “He used to pull my pigtails and made fun of my freckles during the summer.” A far away look entered her eyes. “Then we grew up. He was no longer that boyish brute I had known. He grew into a handsome man with kind eyes who protected me from the world. When we married, we were only friends, but my dear that is the best foundation. Love grew swiftly as we learned to laugh with one another. Then we had you,” she smiled wide, “and I realized that I couldn’t imagine my life with anyone else.”

You leaned against your bed post, “Do you think I can have that with Captain Torrance?”

“I think you can have whatever you dream as long as you keep an open mind,” she replied, getting up. “Now, come along, dearest. Everyone is waiting.”

Nodding, you let your mother lead you down the stairs to where your father was waiting. You took his good arm and walked with him down the aisle. 

Although the priest was speaking, you barely heard him over the thud of your heart.  In truth, you weren’t very present in the moment. Instead, your mind was racing ahead to that night, wondering what was to become of you. Your betrothed vowed himself to you in words you did not hear, and you repeated your own back like you were reciting a poem.  Captain Torrance’s hand was so warm around yours as he gave you reassuring squeezes every once in a while. Every squeeze brought you back to the moment and sent you drowning in a concerned pair of blue eyes. 

“I now pronounce you man and wife. You may kiss your bride,” the priest stated.

You tensed up, expecting it to be awkward as Captain Torrance cupped your cheek and leaned in to kiss you. It was short and sweet, and for some reason you were disappointed. However, it wasn’t disappointment in the kiss itself. It was disappointment in the fact that it was so short.

The two of you turned out to face your guests, walking through them towards the reception. As you split apart to mingle, you came up with the brilliant idea of dancing the night away with anyone who would ask, hoping it would extend the night and make you too tired to perform your marital duties later. You took turn upon turn around the room, passing hands and entertaining your guests. At first, you didn’t care what your new husband did, catching him talking to your guests here and there out of the corner of your eye. However, you found it strange that he did not ask to cut in.

As the clock struck nine, you gracefully removed yourself from the dance floor to find him. He was nowhere in the house. Only when you stepped out into the cool night air did you find him on the porch with a glass in his hand. Drawing closer, you noticed it was just water.

“No liquid courage?” you teased.

A sad smile settled on his face as he looked down at the glass in his hands, “No. I only run on true courage or cowardice these days.”

“You can’t be a coward if any of the tales my father has told me this week are to be believed,” you murmured as you leaned against the railing next to him.

An awkward silence settled between the two of you as you looked out into the night. It was as if both of you didn’t know the words to say. You noticed him studying you, eyes trailing down your features as if trying to memorize them. His hand rested inches from yours, but he didn’t dare to move it closer.

“You don’t have to worry,” he said softly, “I’m never going to touch you.”

“Then what exactly do you get out of this arrangement?” you asked, turning to face him.

“Enough that I won’t ever demand that of you,” he replied.

“Right,” you smiled ruefully, “I’m sure the stocks in my father’s company that he undoubtedly gave you can buy you the finest ladies.” The words were said with a tinge of resentment at the fact that you were now trapped in a marriage while he could still look elsewhere.

Dan wet his lips before turning away, “I refused them. After all, I didn’t earn them.”

You turned to him in shock, “Then what do you get out o this arrangement?”

“A companion,” he said before downing the rest of his drink, “Now, we should head back inside before our guests miss us. After all, I believe I owe you a dance. If you aren’t too tired of dancing yet, that is.” He held his arm out to you. After a moment of bewilderment, you took it, allowing him to lead you back into the fray.

Once inside, his smile slid back on his face and you somehow felt at ease. But, in the back of your mind you registered just how strange your situation was. You were the wife of Captain Torrance. You knew he was a good man, but in your heart you also knew you had just married an enigma. There was so much more beneath the surface that you could only wonder if you would ever truly know him.

Love Reigns

SUMMARY: On his wedding day, Killian reflects on his life and his future with Emma, and his new role as the crown princess’s husband. 

Part Three of the Modern Misthaven series that began with Error 404: “Little” Brother Not Found. 

Tumblr: Part One | Part Two AO3: One | Two | Three

a/n: The lightest, sweetest Lieutenant Duckling fluff, because writing in this verse is very soothing. Have the dentist on speed-dial. 

Rating: G-ish Words: 3.1k Tags: Lieutenant Duckling, Royalty AU, Modern Royalty, Wedding

-

LOVE REIGNS: 

The flowers are beautiful. 

It’s probably an odd thing for Killian to be thinking at this moment, but they truly are. Mist lilies, the national flower of Misthaven, with their unusual blue-grey colour and subtle fragrance—mid-June is the height of their season and they’re Emma’s favourite flower so there was never really any question as to what time of year the wedding would be. 

The chapel is awash in them, draped in garlands over the chairs and gathered in bouquets on either side of the aisle, bouquets rounded out by sprays of Queen Anne’s lace and the sunshine yellow roses that are their country’s second most populous flower. There’s a lily tucked into his buttonhole, just a small one nestled in a sprig of lacy white. Liam put it there not an hour earlier, his usual jovial smile dimmed by the weight of solemnity and nerves. 

(“Nervous, little brother?” he attempted to joke, adjusting the flower and smoothing Killian’s lapels.

Killian smiled, content to let the nickname slide. Just for today. “No,” he replied. 

“What, not at all?” Liam fiddled with his tie as his Adam’s apple bobbed. “I’m a bloody wreck.” 

Killian turned to examine their reflection in the mirror—both in their formal dress uniforms, though he had technically given up his naval commission when he accepted a seat on the Royal Council. “I suppose it’s because I’ve had such a long time to get used to the idea,” he said. “I’ve been waiting for this day since the first time I kissed her.” 

“How?” Liam shook his head. “How could you know after one kiss?” 

Killian doubted he’d ever be able to fully articulate how it felt, that calm certainty that had settled within him from the first touch of her lips on his, even as the taste of her set his blood racing. It was the certainty of knowing exactly where you belong, and he had known from the first that he belonged with Emma—by her side always, despite how impossible such a thing had seemed at the time. 

He couldn’t explain it and even if he could there wasn’t time. The chapel bell began to chime and Liam jumped, then chuckled at himself. Killian reached up to clasp his brother’s shoulder and give it a reassuring a squeeze. “When you know you know, as they say,” he quipped. “With Emma I’ve just always known.”)

The organ begins to play and the guests rise to their feet. Killian can feel Liam behind him, standing straight and palpably tense. He wishes he could offer his brother some reassurance but he can’t move—every particle of his focus and attention is directed at the chapel doors. When they open a bright flare of sunlight bursts through and then there is Emma, more radiant than any beam, and he catches his breath. 

Her hair is twisted into an elegant updo, and though he prefers it loose and curling around her shoulders for his fingers to tangle in he cannot deny that she is stunning, the graceful curve of neck and shoulder bare and just teased by curling tendrils. Her dress is long and flowing in the traditional style, ivory silk shot through with gold, and he would swear that every inch of her gleams. 

He swallows hard as she approaches, his heart thundering though not with nerves or even excitement. It’s closer to awe; the culmination of years of study and work and dreams, planning their life together and building its foundations, slowly, until the day it could at so long last be realised. 

(“I’d go down on one knee for this,” he said to her on the morning of the happiest day of his life so far. “I probably should, tradition and all, but people kneel to you all the time and I don’t wish to be one of them.” 

He stopped walking and turned to her, tightening his hand in hers. It was a cool day, cloudy but dry, and they were in the palace gardens where the mist lilies were just beginning to fade, making way for the late summer flowers with their richer colours. He looked down at her, her cheeks flushed and her eyes bright, her posture tense with expectation and excitement. He knew her answer, had known it for years, but the question still required asking. 

“So I won’t kneel,” he continued, “but instead I stand here before you as your partner—if not precisely your equal—to tell you that I love you with everything I have in me, and that I want nothing more than to spend the rest of my days at your side. Or two steps behind you, should the occasion require it.” 

She gave a bright laugh, even as a tear escaped the corner of her eye. He wiped it away with a gentle brush of his thumb, framing her face in his hand. 

 “Emma, my love,” he said softly. “Will you marry me?”) 

She arrives at his side and her father lifts her hand to his lips—Killian startles; he was so absorbed by Emma that he forgot the king was there—kisses it gently and passes it to Killian, who takes it in his own hand and kisses it in his turn. 

King David nods and makes a formal bow, and when he straightens his eyes catch Killian’s. Understanding flashes between them, and there in that moment they are not a king and his subject but a father and the man about to become his son-in-law. It’s a brief moment but heavy with meaning, and when it passes David gives a nod and the barest curve of his lips before stepping back and taking his seat next to the queen. 

Killian returns his attention to Emma, tucks her hand into the crook of his elbow and attempts a smile. 

“Swan, you look...” he trails off, for once at a loss for words. 

She gives him a cheeky smile. “I know.” 

His own smile blooms, the breathless tension broken, and they turn together to face Lancelot. 

(The footman announced him and Killian entered the king and queen’s private residence to find them waiting with tea already laid. They looked surprised to see him alone, then comprehension dawned and they sat up straighter, more formally, and he bowed, first to Snow then to David, then waited at military attention until they bade him to take a seat. 

“I know that you know why I’m here,” he said. “We’ve never spoken about it in so many words but I know that you have always understood how much I love your daughter and that my dearest wish for a long time has been to marry her. I believe that now, with my new position on the Council and with Emma officially taking on her royal duties, that it is the... well, the time.” 

He sat as straight as he could, shoulders back, and met their eyes without a waver. “Yesterday I asked Emma to marry me and she said yes,” he continued. “Today I am here to ask for your blessing—not your formal approval as the king and queen, but your blessing as parents. I know I wouldn’t have been your first choice for her, but I promise you that no one could love her more than I do and I will devote my life to her happiness.”

He took a deep breath and released it slowly, awaiting their reply. They were silent for a moment, sharing that unspoken communication they had, that he and Emma had as well. Then Queen Snow pulled a handkerchief from her sleeve and dabbed at her eyes and King David’s stern face softened. 

“Oh, Killian,” said Snow, sniffling. She rose to her feet and he hurried to follow—it was very bad form to sit while the queen was standing—but she waved away his attempts at protocol and took his face in her hands with a tremulous smile. “It’s true you weren’t our first choice but that doesn’t mean you aren’t the best one. You are Emma’s choice and you make her happy, and that’s all we care about. Of course you have our blessing!” 

She pulled him into a hug which he attempted to return both warmly and respectfully—not the easiest balance to strike—and met David’s eyes over her shoulder. The king was attempting to look stern, but Killian knew him too well by now to be fooled.

So did Snow. “David,” she said, turning to him and dabbing her eyes again. “Come greet our son-in-law.”  

David stood and offered Killian his hand. “Welcome to the family,” he said.)

Lancelot’s smile is wide and his voice resonant, but Killian does not hear his words. He is conscious only of Emma beside him, the soft weight of her hand on his arm, the magnitude of this moment. His heart is so full of love for her he fears it may burst, and though he supposes he should listen to the vows he is taking, he doesn’t truly need to. He knows what they say and more importantly he feels them, those words that speak of love and trust and partnership, of solemn duty gladly undertaken, and he has no need to hear the words to promise to uphold them. 

“I do,” he says, when the time comes, and Emma repeats this vow in her turn. Then he is turning to her, his hand firm on the small of her back as he leans in to kiss her. 

And with that, they are married. 

(“Killian!” Emma tapped gently at his door. “Killian, are you there?”

“Swan!” He leapt from the sofa where he and Liam had been lounging, exchanging an alarmed glance with his brother as he approached the door. “What the bloody hell do you think you’re doing?” 

“I just wanted to talk to you,” she said quietly. “I miss you.” 

Liam rolled his eyes but Killian ignored him. “I miss you too,” he said. “But—”

“I wish I could see you.” 

Killian sighed. “Love, you know that’s bad luck.” 

“I know you think it’s bad luck.” 

“A seafaring man knows better than to mess about defying superstitions,” he told her sternly. “Even ones that may be foolish. Perhaps it’s not bad luck to see the bride the night before the wedding, but I don’t care to take that chance.” 

“I know,” she sighed. “And I do understand, I just—I hate sleeping without you.” 

“I know, darling, me too.” Killian leaned his forehead against the door, knowing that on the other side she was doing the same. “But it’s just one night. Come tomorrow there’ll be no getting rid of me.” 

Emma’s voice dropped so low he could barely hear her. “Promise?” 

“Aye, my love,” he whispered back. “I promise.”)

The organ music swells as he and Emma walk arm-in-arm back down the aisle. The doors swing open as they approach and the glare of the sunlight outside momentarily blinds him. When his vision clears he sees a crowd of people filling up and spilling out of the chapel grounds and into the streets, where traffic has been blocked off for the occasion. A great cheer erupts as they emerge and stand together at the top of the curving steps so the people below can get a good look at their princess and new prince. 

Bloody hell, thinks Killian. Prince. 

It’s a courtesy title that holds no real weight, and he won’t even technically assume it until Emma takes the throne. But the tabloids are already calling him Prince Killian, which makes him blush and Emma laugh, and as the crowd cheers and she smiles and waves as naturally as breathing, Killian feels overwhelmed. This is his life now, he thinks. He is a public figure, a member of the royal family. He has a duty to these people, a responsibility, and—his head begins to spin and bile rises in his throat and then he feels Emma’s hand tighten on his arm. 

“It’s okay,” she whispers, rubbing tiny, gentle circles on his bicep with her fingertips. “You’re okay. I love you.” 

Her touch grounds him and her voice quells his rising panic. He looks down at her and she smiles, radiant with happiness and love and sunlight and he feels himself relax. This is just them, after all. Just Killian and Emma, together, as they’ve been now for more than five years. That’s all that matters. 

He smiles back at her then turns to the crowd and raises his hand in a tentative wave. Cheers swell and cameras flash, and Emma’s voice is low in his ear. 

“You’re a natural.” 

~

The rest of the day is a dizzying whirl of speeches and toasts and hands to shake, people bowing and calling him ‘sir’, Liam’s tight, proud hug and the tears in the queen’s eyes. There is dancing and a meal they don’t have time to eat, and so many camera flashes that Killian begins to think the spots behind his eyelids when he blinks may be permanent. 

Emma smiles through it all but he can see fatigue begin to settle on her shoulders and around her eyes. She’s been awake since dawn at least and moving nonstop, with constant demands on her time and attention. She bears it brilliantly, sustained by a lifetime of royal training, but he knows how much it drains her and wishes he could whisk her away to someplace quiet and private, just for a moment, where they could lean against each other and just breathe. 

Finally the time comes for them to leave for their honeymoon, which they do in one of the palace limousines. One with tinted windows, Killian notes in relief, and comfortable leather seats, quite different from the stiff, open-topped carriages that conveyed them to and from the chapel. Everyone gathers round to see them off, and they muster the energy for one last round of smiles and waves. The instant the car pulls away Emma droops, collapsing against Killian’s chest with a small sigh. He wraps his arm around her and pulls her close. 

“Long day,” he says. 

“You’re not kidding,” she murmurs. “But a good one.” 

“Aye,” he agrees, and lets his cheek rest on his wife’s head. His wife. “The best day.” 

They sit in comfortable silence as the car moves through the streets. People still line them, hoping for a glimpse of the royal couple, but the tint of the windows is dark and Killian is glad of it; frankly he feels no obligation to give the public any more of himself or of Emma today. He’s exhausted and she’s already asleep, snoring faintly into the crook of his neck. 

They drive to the palace and through the grand front entrance, around the main buildings and towards the rear exit and the road that leads to the airport. The limo pauses briefly in a small alcove that’s invisible from outside the palace grounds, where Killian nudges Emma awake and they perform a quick-change operation worthy of a spy film, slipping from the limo—which then proceeds through the rear gates without them—and into an ordinary, unmarked car.  This car Killian drives out a small side exit where no crowds are gathered and down the quiet streets that lead to the coast, as Emma curls up in the passenger seat and dozes again with her head pillowed on his coat. 

It’s quite late when they reach their destination—a small house on a tall cliff overlooking the ocean. The housekeeper is there to greet them, giving them a brief tour of the amenities then showing them to their room, with a curtsey and a reminder that she lives just next door should there be anything they need. 

“Thank you,” Killian says with a smile. “I think we’ll be all right.” 

He turns back into the room where Emma has already shed the sleek dress she wore to the reception and is snuggling into the dressing gown that was laid out on the bed for her. Killian follows suit, pleased to discard his stiff dress uniform in favour of slipping into something far more comfortable. He considers making a quip along those lines to Emma, but considering how tired she is he doubts the innuendo would be well-received. Something like 80% of couples don’t have sex on their wedding night, he reminds himself. And he and Emma have three weeks’ worth of nights to look forward to, alone here on this rocky stretch of shore—one final interlude just for them before they return to their life in the public eye. They can spare this one night just for sleep. 

Their bedroom has a set of wide French doors leading to a balcony that overlooks the beach, and these Killian opens, stepping out into the fading twilight and breathing deeply of the crisp sea air. It’s unlikely he’ll be able to spend much time on the sea in the future and he would be lying if he claimed not to feel a twinge of sadness at that thought. But he’ll have a lifetime with Emma instead, in the face of which joyous prospect all other concerns pale into insignificance.

Emma. His wife. He wonders how long it will be before that word stops making him feel giddy. Possibly never—and honestly, Killian reflects, he’s okay with that.  

Emma’s arms slip around his waist and she rests her chin on his shoulder. “What are you thinking about?” she asks. 

He turns so he can wrap her in his arms. “I’m thinking about how much I love you,” he replies, “and how much I am looking forward to living the rest of my life by your side.” 

“Mmmm,” she says. “Those are good thoughts.” 

She leans up for a kiss and he gladly obliges, trying to keep it light and sweet—but Emma is having none of that. She presses herself firmly against him and slips her tongue past his lips and Killian’s body leaps to attention before he can stop it. 

“Are you sure, Swan?” he murmurs. “You’re exhausted.” 

“I had a nap,” she replies, nipping at his lip. “And this sea air is really quite  invigorat—oh!” She shrieks as he scoops her up in his arms and carries her to the bed where he lays her down with a gentleness that belies the fire in his veins. She watches as he slips off his dressing gown, biting her lip in that way she knows drives him mad. 

“You’re wearing too many clothes, love,” he purrs. 

“Why don’t you come down here and do something about it?” 

She shrieks again as he pounces on her then sighs into his kiss, and as the rising moon casts the room in a gentle glow they share one last celebration of their wedding and their love. 

___

@ohmightydevviepuu @thisonesatellite @kmomof4 @stahlop​ @darkcolinodonorgasm @katie-dub @teamhook @snidgetsafan @mariakov81 

___

Good Enough part 3

Part 1 | Part 2

Masterlist

X female reader

Y/N woke up that morning startled by the fact that Aaron wasn’t next to her. She slowly realized, as she woke up that it was her wedding day. She had stayed at Emily’s with the rest of her wedding party so they could all get ready together.

It was finally here! The day she would marry the man of her dreams. By the end of the day she’d officially be a hotchner along with the 2 men that made her the happiest in the world; Aaron and Jack.

She got up from the couch she had slept on to see that everyone but Emily was still sleeping. She went down the hall to find her maid of honor. Emily was the logical choice for the role being the reason she had met Aaron in the first place. Emily had worked with Y/N at Interpol before she had become a linguistics specialist at NCIS and Emily had come to the BAU.

She found Emily in the kitchen making coffee.

“Hey there soon to be Mrs Y/L/N-Hotchner.” Emily greeted.

“Good morning my maid of honor! I have a favor to ask you” y/n said handing her two envelopes; one labeled Aaron and one Jack. Emily smiles as she took the letters and poured her coffee.

The girls had finished their hair and makeup and made their way to the venue where the men were already getting ready. Y/N was touching up her make up and had just gotten into her dress with the help of JJ when there was a knock on the door.

Penelope opened the door and called Y/N over who was met by a smiling Rossi, tears forming in his eyes as he saw her. “Oh honey! You look beautiful and I can’t think of a better woman for Aaron.” He said as Y/N smiled and wiped her own tears.

“I’m not here to walk you down the aisle just yet. Your groom and son would like you to have this mi Bella.” He said handing her an envelope.

Y/N laughed thinking about the letters she had written to them.

She thanked Rossi, closing the door and walking over to the closest chair. She readied herself for tears as she opened the letter.

“Don’t worry I made sure it was all waterproof” Jessica said, referring to y/n’s makeup as she saw her picking up the tissues.

She pulled out the first of 2 papers

My Dearest Y/N,

I know that I will stand in front of you and say vows but we both know I’m not always the most articulate when it comes to feelings in front of anyone but you. Today is a day I never thought I deserved, Especially after losing Haley. Then you blew into our lives and turned everything upside down in the best way. Y/N when I met you I didn’t think I deserved to be this happy, and then you smiled at me and I realized I had no choice. I could never be anything but happy and at peace around you.

While it hasn’t always been a smooth road, I can’t say it hasn’t been easy, because loving you is the easiest thing in the world for me. You and Jack make my life worth living. While most of our friends know me to be stoic, the thought of you has always been able to make me smile. Your love terrifies me in the most beautiful way and I want you for always. Jack and I are so lucky to have you and we promise to always do our best to show you that every day. I can’t wait to see you walk down that aisle to us and have you choose us you be your family. I love you my sweet Y/N, thank you for being mine and for having Jack and I to be yours. Always remember you will forever be more than enough for us!

Forever and ever yours,

Aaron

Y/N wiped her tears and smiled as she held the letter to her chest.

“God, I love him” she said being met by a chorus of awwwws.

She opened the next folded piece of paper to see a letter in Jack’s large handwriting. She smiled seeing that he wrote her a letter all by himself, at 8 years old he was sure to have spelling mistakes but wanted this letter to be just his and y/n’s.

Dear momma,

I can’t wait to see you marry daddy and become part of our family. Even though it feels like you have been for a long time. I love you so much and I will forever and ever. I know that you will always let me love and talk about my mommy with you but I also love that you want to be my mom too. Thank you for making my daddy smile again and making him come home more. I love you forever momma!

LOVE JACK

Y/N wiped her tears and turned to her friends.

“Let’s go ladies! I don’t want to wait another minute to be a hotchner !”

While Y/N was reading her letters, Aaron was in a smaller room with his groomsman getting ready. Emily knocked on the door and handed Aaron and Jack their letters.

“You and your future wife are already thinking alike” she laughed before she headed back to Y/N.

Aaron smiled and picked his son up to sit on his lap handing him his letter to help him read it.

My sweet Jack,

Thank you oh so much for letting me into your life, accepting me as your momma, and letting me love both you and your daddy. I will never ever replace your mommy but I WILL always love and support you in everything you do. Jack you are an amazing young man and I can’t wait to see what you do in life. I will always be one of your #1 fans (I tie with your dad) but never get too big to give me hugs okay? See you soon handsome! Make sure daddy doesn’t cry too much :P

Love always

Your momma.

Jack gave his dad a big hug.

“I can’t wait to see how pretty momma looks. Thank you for sharing her with me daddy!” He said causing Aaron to hold back his happy tears as jack ran over to “help” Spencer and Morgan get ready.

Aaron looked up at Rossi with tear eyes and smiled as he opened his letter.

My sweet sweet Aaron,

I will never be able to put into words how much this day and your love mean to me. I know I will say my vows soon, but there are so many things I only want to tell you at this moment. Aaron, you and Jack are my shining stars, my true north, my greatest treasures. The love you show me every day is more than I could ever have dreamt of.

I know that loving someone new was not an easy feat for either of you and I am beyond thankful that you both let me in your lives and hearts. Aaron you knew from day one that I would never ever replace Haley. What you and jack had with her was special. And lasting, and all your own. I want to thank you for letting me get to know her through you both and for trusting me with your and her, greatest treasure, Our Jack.

I promise to always love you both forever. Even when I’m mad at you I will always tell jack you’re my super hero and in my heart you truly are. I have never met a man as special, strong, and loving as you and I love that I get to walk down the aisle to you today.

With love for always

Your bride.

Rossi came over to hand Aaron a tissue as he got up. They were ready to get set up.

“Dave, what did I ever do in this life to deserve that woman?” He asked

“You love her Aaron, that’s all she needs and wants.” He patted his friend on the back and led him to the door.

The wedding was beautiful and everything they both hoped for. Y/n and Rossi walked down the aisle to a beaming Hotch and a giddy jack. They exchanged vows and rings. Y/N and Aaron made vows to jack, and there was not a dry eye in the house. Y/N couldn’t wait to kiss Aaron and hug her son for the first time as an official hotchner. The day was everything they could have ever imagined and they got to celebrate their love and future with each other and their family.

Dearest (Oh You’re the Nearest to my Heart)

[For Day Four of khunbam week: AU! Based on the story of Tam Lin :)]

Khun Aguero Agnis, son of Lord Eduan of the Ten Great Families, stopped short in his stroll through the woods. Before his eyes was the most beautiful boy he had ever seen, with rich brown locks and golden eyes, sitting amongst the wild rose beds. He was also attempting to eat a rose, chewing thoughtfully before his face scrunched up and he spit it out. 

“What are you doing?” Khun asked, sedately walking towards him. When the boy looked up and their eyes met, Khun was instantly struck with a pang in his chest. Perhaps he might be dying, he thought vaguely. But oh, what a good death it would be, looking into those eyes.

“Oh hello!” The boy said, voice like honey and smiling face like the sun, saying utter nonsense in the loveliest tone, “I just walk by these roses so often, and I always wondered if they taste as good as they smelled”.

“And do they?”

“I don’t think so,” He replied, a sad little frown on his face that Khun longed to repair. But before he could, the boy’s face instantly lightened again, “Would you like to try?”

“... I’ll trust your judgement on that,” Khun hedged, before letting his curiosity get the better of him, “What is your name?”

“I’m called the Twenty-Fifth Bam”.

“The Twenty Fifth Bam, what sort of name is that?”

“It’s mine, sir. I was named after the day of my birth”.

“Well, since it’s yours, I think that it’s wonderful”.

The boy blushed at that, a soft pink that spread to his ears. Yes, compliments were a good call. After an appropriate amount of time of flustered sputtering, the boy asked him in return.

“What is your name, sir?”

“I am Khun Aguero Agnis. It is lovely to meet you,” He took a chance and sat besides Bam amongst the flower beds, and was rewarded by a bright smile. They were so close that their fingertips brushed as lightly as two rose petals in the wind. It was so small, and yet Khun felt this was somehow a momentous occasion.

“It’s lovely to meet you too, Mr. Khun. I didn’t think I’d find someone ever so nice wandering around here.”

“Please, call me Aguero,” He usually hated the use of his first name by anyone, but he wanted this boy to be the exception, for some reason he couldn’t quite place.

“Ah, Aguero then. That really is a beautiful name,” Bam said easily, as if he wasn’t playing Khun’s heart like a skilled lutist. It was Khun’s turn to blush fervently, though he thought he hid it well with a downturn of his head.

Bam’s head turned towards one of the dusty pink roses, before plucking it and leaning over. Their faces, for a few moments, were so close that their breaths mingled. Their gazes were stuck on each other. He gently tucked the rose behind Khun’s ear, unfortunately leaning back when his task was complete.

“Wha-” Khun wondered, hand coming up to his ear where the gift laid.

“I just thought,” Bam quickly looked at the horizon, seeming like his actions caught up with him, “That it was fitting”.

“Fitting?”

“Yes,” His eyes followed the dance of two doves in the sky, while Khun looked only at him, “A sweet rose for a sweet man”.

Khun choked. What this boy was doing to him must be a crime, surely, and it seemed like Bam did not even know he was doing it.

They talked like old companions, matching each other perfectly and trading humorous and sentimental stories in equal measure. Khun, who had spent his entire life living in the cold hollowness of his father’s court, had never felt warmer in all of his days. This lasted until sunset, when Khun unfortunately had to leave this perfect boy. 

Before he did, he took Bam’s summer soft hands.

“Promise me we will meet again,” He begged, looking into those earnest, liquid gold eyes, hoping beyond hope that this was something that would last.

Bam’s face spread into the most beautiful smile Khun had and would ever see, and he brought his lips up to brush Khun’s cheek, leaving just the whisper of a kiss upon it.

“I promise, Aguero,” And then he was gone, leaving Khun starstruck in his wake.

When Khun made it back to his chambers, his fingers caressed the blush pink rose Bam had given him, before he placed it between the pages of his favorite book of fairy tales. He wanted to preserve this memory forever.

The next evening, and the next, and the next, for an entire year, Khun returned to that spot, but he never saw the Twenty-Fifth Bam again after that night. Khun fell into a deep well of sorrow, and detested the frozen court he was stuck in. So, one night, he raided his family’s coffers and stole a golden steed, riding away from the palace that for him had become a hell.

The only thing he brought with him from his chambers was the book of fairy tales, and no matter where he was, for six long years, at sunset he would always take out the rose and give it a longing kiss.

He could not forget about Bam. 

Then one night, while he rested his tired limbs in a tavern, he overheard two patrons talking about a man with long, dark hair that trailed him like the twilight and golden eyes like two bright sons, who guarded the wild forest beyond Lord Eduan’s castle, and would hunt down anyone who trespassed there. Apparently, it was causing quite the problem for the Lord, which Khun took quite a bit of joy in, but that wasn’t the important part.

What was important was that he knew who that mysterious man was, and he had to get to him immediately. There was a promise that needed fulfilling.

As soon as he heard the news, he raced out of the tavern, dropping a few coins to cover his meal, and rode for seven long nights to the place he had thought he would never return. He searched high and low when he got there, leaving his horse behind so he could reach into the darkest corners, but what he sought was in a beautiful clearing of dusty pink roses surrounding a well.

It wasn’t the same clearing, but it reminded Khun so strongly of the one where they had met that he had to lean down to pick a rose, inhaling the familiar scent.

“What are you doing?” A voice came from behind him, causing Khun to turn sharply. He knew that voice intimately. It was in his dreams every night, though now it sounded a bit deeper.

When they locked eyes, Khun felt a pang in his chest.

“The Twenty Fifth Bam,” He croaked, voice suddenly hoarse, eyes suddenly teary.

“Aguero, what are you doing here?” Bam’s voice sounded pained. He should never sound so hollow, look so hollow. Not his Bam. Khun clutched the rose against his chest.

“I heard,” He said, edging closer, “I heard that there was a man with long, dark hair that trailed him like the twilight and golden eyes like two bright sons, who guarded the wild forest beyond Lord Eduan’s castle, and I knew. I knew it was you, Bam.”

Then, he pressed a finger against the taller man’s chest. Bam looked shaken, eyes widening behind curtains of hair.

“You promised me we would meet again, Bam. You promised! What the hell happened?”

Bam brought a hand up to cover the one at his chest, pressing it against his heart.

“I’m so sorry, Aguero. I had every intention of fulfilling that promise, but after you left I was tricked, caught, and captured by the Faery Queen. She turned me into one of her people, and only now has allowed me outside the court to guard this place. I couldn’t return to you, no matter how much I wanted to.”

Then tears fell from his eyes, rapidly, like a waterfall. Khun hurried to brush them away with the hand holding the rose.

“Bam, what is the matter, dearheart?” Khun couldn’t stand this, all the suffering and hurt his Bam had had to go through. He promised nothing like that would ever happen again if he could help it.

“Every seven years, the Fairy Court gives one of their people as tithe to Hell, on this night, the night of Hallowe’en,” Bam’s voice broke, “And I fear that tonight it will be me”.

Khun brought Bam into a crushing hug when he heard that, eyes wide.

“What can I do? Please, tell me I can do something. I cannot allow you to go through that”.

“There is, but it is an unwieldy task”.

“Don’t patronize me,” Khun admonished, “Just tell me what it is so I can do it”.

“I will be riding in a company of elven nights, you will recognize me by my pure white steed. When you find me, pull me down and hold me tightly. The faeries will attempt to make you drop me tightly by turning me into a whole manner of beasts”.

“A lizard, an adder, a bear, a lion, a white hot iron, and finally a burning torch. When I last turn, throw me into a well, and I will become a man. When I do, cover me with your coat, and I will be no one else’s but yours”.

“Well,” Khun replied, laughing, pulling away to look into golden eyes, “That sounds about as difficult as I expected it would. I cannot wait to get it over with”.

“You’ll do it?” Bam looked at him in wonder, and Khun placed the rose behind his ear, smiling at the beautiful picture it made.

“Of course I will, don’t be silly,” Khun hugged him once more before pulling away, “Now you better get going, you need to actually be with your company for me to catch you”.

Khun brought his lips against Bam’s cheek, and returned the kiss that had been given to him so long ago. This time it was Bam’s turn to look starstruck, blinking rapidly, before his lips finally quirked up into a small smile.

“See you soon, Aguero,” He moved away and Khun watched him disappear from view. But Khun knew this time would be different. He would get Bam back, he vowed it to himself.

When the sun finally set, Khun went in search of the faery company. He found them, knights all lined up on glorious steeds, but none of them pure white except one. The other faeries looked at him in shock as Khun raced, faster than he had ever run before, to Bam’s horse. He pulled the man down roughly, clutching him tightly in his arms.

Just as he had gotten a firm grip, Bam transformed into a tiny lizard, which he quickly cupped in his hands as it struggled to get out. He wouldn’t be getting away so easily.

After several moments of long struggle, he was gripping a ginormous snake, holding it tightly around the throat so it would not be able to sink its venomous fangs into him.

When Bam became a bear, Khun gripped his fingers into his pelt and cried out as the beast swiped at him. He could feel blood running down his back, but he would not relent. The bear shook back and forth, trying to launch Khun away, and when that did not happen, Khun found himself clinging onto a vicious lion whose sharp claws glanced at his side before he was able to maneuver himself to where he could not be harmed.

The lion raced around the field, dragging Khun around as he clung to its mane. The faery knights all rode to the sides of the clearing to get out of its way. 

When Bam became the hot iron, Khun screamed in pain, but continued to grip it to his chest as it seared his skin. Tears clung to his eyelashes but he thought of the beautiful boy who had stolen his heart and knew he had to keep going.

Finally, he was holding a flaming torch and he sprinted to the well at the center of the clearing, throwing it in. Out came the Twenty-Fifth Bam, looking soaked and exhausted, and Khun ripped out his cloak to cover him, whispering sweet somethings into his ear. “It’s okay,” He sobbed, not out of pain, but of joy, “I have you. You’re alright now, love”.

Slow clapping came from the side, and Khun looked up to see a gorgeous woman with blood red locks of hair.

“The Faerie Queen,” Bam mumbled. Khun gasped, gripping him tighter, covering him with his body.

“It seems as if you passed the test. Congratulations, Khun Aguero Agnis, you have freed the Twenty-Fifth Bam,” Her voice was stoic, though for some reason Khun thought he could detect humor in her tone. She snapped her fingers and he hissed as he felt his wounds closing, “Now get out of here, you ruined our tithing and I would really prefer to never see either of you again”.

Khun heeded her warning, and took them onto his own golden steed, where they rode until they reached the soft safety of the rose beds where they first met. When their feet touched the ground, they fell into each other's arms, both crying and laughing unabashedly. 

“Aguero,” Bam brought their faces together, kissing him all over, yearning finally over, “Aguero, you did it”.

Khun twirled them around, before they fell into the rose bed together. Khun leaned down, kissing Bam’s lips again, and again, and again.

“We did it,” He declared, “I wouldn’t have been able to do anything if you hadn’t told me”.

Then, he pressed a kiss against Bam’s chest, feeling his heartbeat beneath his lip, before moving up to stare into his eyes.

“I love you, Bam”, Khun grinned down at him, looking at this lovely man among lovely flowers. 

Bam intertwined their fingers and tugged Khun back down, “And I love you, Aguero”.

“I have a plan,” Khun said against his lips, feeling rather than hearing Bam’s chuckle.

“What is it?”

“We’re running away together. Far and wide, Bam. I’m showing everything you’ve missed these past seven years”.

“It sounds perfect”

“I knew you would think so”.

“Can we please stop talking now, love?”

“I’m sure I could be persuaded, dearheart”.

The stars that night were more gorgeous than they had been in years, but neither of the two noticed. They were rather more fond of roses, anyways.