#don’t worry—I hope the lord’s got a long life ahead of me | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

neitherlightnordark · 2 years

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hiraeth!

[I.D.: Ask from @mymarifae that says "oooooooh 32 for the prompts ? >:)". End I.D.]

December bent down on her stick legs to look the child in the eye. “I’m visiting Waterfall from the city.”

She paused, and her smile ticked up ever so slightly as she realized- something. “Synchronicity...? My neighbor’s daughter looks about your age. Her name is ‘Suzy’. I feel like you two should be friends.” She clapped her hands together, delighted. “You have... A neighbor’s blessing!!!”

The child smiled back. They faltered, frowned at the ground for a moment, and then tugged on December’s sleeve again.

December leaned down to their level again. “Not knowing where I live is no issue. Fate finds a way.” She clacked her claws together in a way that was both meaningfully enigmatic and meaningfully silly. “In life’s grand scheme, she might be why you came here in the first place...”

In life’s grand scheme, Suzy might be why December chose to stand in that very particular spot, deciding to investigate the wall’s pink jewels, instead of going straight on ahead to drop off the Doctor’s... to... to... to visit the old Lord of the Hammer on a whim, as she’d planned... And then she’d met the child, who seemed all too familiar, and yet was someone she’d never seen before.

She mused over this as she stood on the Riverperson’s boat on the way to Snowdin, feeling water skip along her feet. Beautifully unpredictable, this all was, playing and living.

Perhaps she’d never get her "answers". Perhaps the child she’d met never would, either. Perhaps she’d never see them again-! Perhaps they’d move in next to her and Suzy, and they’d become the best of friends, as she’d predicted-! Either way, she hoped they’d be alright, whatever their definition of ‘alright’ was.

The thought thrilled her inside. The Underground was so small, and so big. The world was so small, and so big. And an answer was not here yet, but it would come. It always came.

“Tra la la,” said the Riverperson to her as they skipped through the tunnels together. “Did you ever hear the old song coming from the sea?”

“Yes,” December said gratefully, thinking of Suzy’s face, thinking of the child’s face. “And I’ve never forgotten it.”

“Tra la la,” said the Riverperson, looking ahead towards Snowdin. “Why don’t you sing with me? Tra la la.”

...

“She’ll be alright,” the voice on the other end of the phone reassured Catti, crackling with snow. “Don’t worry...! Just trust. An answer will come, as it so often does.”

“Mm,” said Catti, holding the diner’s phone and looking down at it. “...And Noelle?”

A silence.

And then, “I’ll see her again!”

“Soon,” Catti said.

“Yes. Whenever fate leads me to her,” the voice said enthusiastically. “I may know a lot from where I am, but I don’t know everything! There, see? Something to hold on to, for both of us. I doubt even He knows exactly where we are going, or to what end we’re here, and won’t until we reach it.”

“Okay,” Catti said. “...Please.”

“I’m going to try my best,” the voice said, infused with warmth and surety. “It’s all going to turn out perfectly okay...!”

The two stood there, in the golden silence of the diner. It was closed for the afternoon.

Catti held the phone. The phone did not answer.

“...Please,” Catti repeated quietly.

“I’m... I’m really... sorry, Catti,” the voice said, and maybe it was crackling with a little more than snow now. “Ah... I’ve still got time. I can stay with you. For as long as you need...”

“...wouldn’t want that,” Catti muttered, resting her back against the wall and dislodging some dust. “...you know where I am, right?”

“The diner?”

“Yeah.” Catti looked up through the window, at Hometown’s autumn beyond the curtains. “Jockington. Waiting for me, outside. But... knows how important this is.”

“How many people have you told about this...?” the voice wondered.

“Friend only. QC, somewhat. Fellow waitress.” Catti counted these off her paw pads. “...No one else. Never in full. Small town, no believers. Not yet.”

She leaned in a little closer. “...if... Kris-”

“DON’T,” cried the voice, and Catti jerked back and dropped the phone, and dust went flying-

“D-don’t-” The phone- the phone rattled on the floor, spirals upon spirals twining up Catti’s entangled paw. “Don’t. Please. Don’t tell Kris. Anything.”

“...”

Catti picked the phone up, settling down on the floor and smoothing out her dress. “I know. Wasn’t... wasn’t going to.”

“Oh,” sighed the voice, and there was a noise like paper being reshuffled, like paper being shoved away. “Oh, I know, I’m so, so sorry, Catti, but you can’t tell- not Kris, not Noelle, don’t please-”

“I won’t,” said Catti. “I won’t.”

The voice cut herself off, and then said, “I have to go. Thank you. For listening.”

“All I ever do,” Catti said to a dial tone.

She set the phone back in its slot and considered it.

...

"...there was... nothing..." Susie muttered, looking down at the phone cord's spirals upon spirals. "...like... there was... nothing there... in the... first place... but... but it was... it used to..."

There was the gentle sound of water running.

"...Sorry," Susie said. "I- you weren’t supposed to hear that..."

"Oh! Please, do not make such assumptions, Susie," Toriel called from where she was washing her paws in the kitchen. "I do not mind hearing about your troubles. Or forgetting about them immediately after hearing them."

"Oh," said Susie. “...Um-”

Toriel gave Susie a smile over her shoulder. (It seemed a little strained, or maybe that was Susie’s imagination.) "I know it... It can be hard to lose things. Especially things you always thought of as important to you. It can be hard to realize that you can, and must, live without them... Of course, these are just scraps of advice I am idly remembering at the moment. They may not apply to your situation at all."

"..." Susie fiddled with the phone cord, twining it around one of her claws. "Wasn't THAT important to me, Toriel. It was only, like, a day..."

"A day, if well-placed, may change the fate of the entire world," Toriel said. There was a strange flicker in her gaze, a setting of her mouth, and then she turned back to doing the dishes with a hum and another bright smile. "Susie, would you like to help with these?”

Susie looked back down at the phone.

It rang.

Susie almost bit its top off in her surprise. It rang again.

“Oh, are those your parents?” Toriel called (RING) as Susie nearly dropped it and had to fumble to stop it from tangling in her claws. “How serendipitous!” (RING) “They must be getting used to having you sleep over, Susie!”

“Yeah! Great!!” Susie tripped over Chairiel’s arm and fell into it (RING), kicking out its cushions and rumpling its blanket (RING). “Hang on, lemme just-” (BEEP)

“Catti from QC’s Diner,” the phone said, and Susie nearly chucked the phone through the roof. “Hey, Toriel. You... .........Won. Free... buns. From QC.”

“And we’re, coming NOW!” Jockington enthusiastically added. “Delivery!! You can’t, stop, The BUNS!!!”

“That,” Catti said, with the smallest smile ever that Susie swore she could hear. And then it was gone. “Okay, bye.”

(BEEP)

“...” Susie poked her head back around the kitchen, where Toriel was doing a poor job at hiding her own smile. “Hey, Toriel, Catti and Jockington are coming over... I think they just want some of our lasagna, honestly.”

“Oh?” Toriel moved over to let Susie wash her talons too. “And do they at least come bearing peace offerings?”

“Cinnamon bunnies. Okay, MAYBE we’ll let them in, I guess.”

...

Susie slowed outside QC’s Diner (they were walking to school that morning, ‘cause of Toriel’s messed-up car).

“...Kris?” she asked.

Kris turned to look at her.

“...I gotta... um... do something in there. Important. Can you stay out here?” Susie jabbed a claw towards the diner’s entrance; she paused at Kris’ expression. “...What?? It’s not like I- what?!”

Kris just kinda stood there and looked at her.

“Berightback,” Susie said, and she practically exploded through the diner door, which at least had the decency to shut itself behind her.

The Soul inside Kris pulsed dimly with- maybe laughter. Yes. Yes, they decided that was laughter.

Kris absentmindedly touched their chest, turned around, and looked at the golden silence of Hometown, all around them.

Sans’ dumb shop was to their left, as was the alleyway, and their school, and their closet; behind them was their home and a lake and a mansion; before them was a hospital, and a library they already knew, and a church, and a bunker, and a graveyard.

We have lots to do, don’t we?

Well, we can’t do it all today. And we shouldn’t have to.

Yes. (And it was as if they could feel them smiling.) Yes, we really don’t have to.

The two of them stood outside the diner and waited for Susie to come back.

#this blog has one (1) agenda and that's the clamgirl is dess agenda (/j)#personal #THANK YOU BOTH SM FOR ASKIIIIIING this was also supposed to be short believe it or not! but i had ideas for both and combined them #i'm so sorry this one took so long liz <3 #safeutdr #catti gets susie to film a diners drive-ins and dives show with her that's all that's going on #susie appreciation day. that's all that's going on. oh ALSO catti and jockington friendship appreciation day. and kris and susie #and kris and the soul. and toriel and susie. an #also whatever's going on with dess and gaster isn't really talked about here but gets a whopping honorable mention cause i love them #idk this was just. a thing. a thing

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deepspacedukat · 2 years

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Dude 😂 so I’m at the store today and I’m walking to the end of the isle to get to the canned food and as I pass this black family and I hear the mother loudly whisper to her son “Now that girl obviously stayed indoors all summer. She’s reflective Ooo.” So I just keep walking and mentally laugh it off but when I get home I ask my mom if i look paler today because sometimes I do get a sickly pale complexion in addition to being white because i have an autoimmune disease that often causes me to have iron deficiency and anemia. My mom laughed at what I told her about my store trip and told me not to worry about it but go ahead and take a supplement in addition to my iron pill. So that has been my day. How are you doing friend? 😂

Oh Lord, well, we both are reflective, I guess lol. I'm basically transparent, so don't worry about it, friend! You're a lovely person and as long as you are comfortable with yourself, that's all that counts! Strangers all have opinions about things - that’s why we’re on tumblr instead of twitter. 😂 (Well, that and the Star Trek brainrot.) Don’t pay them any attention.

Today I’ve been super introspective about life and stuff, and then @horta-in-charge went through my entire fic masterlist and reblogged everything which made my entire day worth it (and made me cry happy tears because that’s so fucking sweet). If anyone who reads this isn’t following her, please go follow her, because you’re missing out!!

So yeah, pretty good day! I feel myself stuck in a tug of war between the Jeffrey Combs brainrot and the Vulcan brainrot. I’ve got like 5 WIPs that are all Vulcan centered, and like 5 that are based on characters Jeff has played, so it’s anybody’s guess wtf will be coming out next ficwise lol. Sorry, rambling now lol. Anyway, I hope you’re doing well, friend!!! 💙

#deepspacedukat asks #anon ask

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smallraindrops-blog · 3 years

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Hi, just a heads up my ask is kinda specific and I apologize in advance. Could you do Hypnos x male reader, but the reader is the adopted son of Achilles and Patroclus. He’s usually dazed thinking about when he was alive and dwells on what happened when he was. Hypnos gets really excited when Hades sends for Thanatos to go get him from Elysium (currently stays in elysium with Patroclus) cause that means he gets to see him and watch him train. If you want to reject this, that’s okay, I get it.

Hey anon, sorry for the long wait and no worries about the specification. I actually found it kinda helpful. I just hope i got close to what you were looking for!

Wake me from this dreaming

Word count: 3.8

Hypnos x male! reader

Warning: violence, no kissing, some sexual/romance tension, flashback to death and war. No beta.

Just as quick extra note, this is not how real life ptsd works and any fighting advice is just off of Google, please understand that every thing is fictional.

It was the screaming that you remembered the most.

Achilles hunched over Patroclus' body, broken and bloodied. Screaming an inhuman sound that echoed in your head.

You knew you would carry that sound with you beyond your dying breath.

You should be screaming too you think but all you can do is tightened the hold on your spear.

Someone had to pay.

You thought Elysium was beautiful. Or at least you did whenever you were able to force yourself out of the memories long enough.

Patroclus' voice was usually enough to pull you out. You blinked down at him, "Forgive me, Pa. I didn't hear you."

He waved a hand to the shade that stood before you, their spear at ready. "Another fool seeking glory."

You looked toward the warrior, "I guess I can't ask you to come back another time, can I?"

You stepped forward and Patroclus called out, "Mind your footwork. You were sloppy last time."

Countless Shades had seeked you out for the chance to earn the glory of beating the son of Achilles and Patroclus.

You slammed the bottom of the spear into the ground and walked to the shade without any weapons.

You smirked slightly at the nervous look the shade gave you.

And this fool before you was another thing to take down. And just like all the ones before them, it took a single hit.

You watched dispassionately as the shade fell apart before your eyes. But for a few moments you didn't see the shade but of the every soul you took laid before your vision. And the roaring of a crowd in your ears. You looked down at your fist and you could have sworn you saw it covered in blood.

"Y/n. Y/n." A hand touched your shoulder and you jerked around only to have your wrist caught by Patroclus.

You blinked, before you remembered exactly where you were. "I'm sorry. I-"

"Silence." Patroclus said gently. "Even after all this time?"

You didn't say anything for a moment. "Not all of it." You told him.

Just the worst of it.

Patroclus frowned and looked like he was about to say something when black smoke appeared.

You stared at the god that floated before you.

"Lord Hades had sent for you, Y/N." The god told you. You tried to remember what his name was.

"Why?" You asked.

The god gave you a disapproving glare. Thanatos, you suddenly remembered. You have seen him before...

"Do you need to know why Lord Hades sent for you?"

"Y/N, the god asked you a question." Patroclus shook you carefully. You blinked and pushed the call of the past away.

"A reason would be nice, yes."

"He wishes to speak to you. That is all the reasons you need."

You looked toward Patroclus, "Are you okay with me going?"

"Go. Tell Achilles I expect an explanation soon."

And with that you nodded, "Very well. Take me to Lord Hades."

You weren't sure what to make of the house as Thanatos led you through a hallway. It felt like You were inside a living thing but none of the walls or floors moved.

What you did notice though was another god following behind you just down the end of the hallway. You turned your head around and saw a head full of white curls peeked around the corner, you couldn't quite see their face. A hand stuck out to waved excitedly at you.

You stared, not quite sure what make of the strange being or day you were having.

Thanatos snapped,"Hypnos, I know you have work to do. Leave now."

Hypnos ducked away, only to peek around again after a few seconds.

What an odd creature.

Thanatos opened the wide double door, "This is Lord Hades' private study so mind your manners." He warned as the door closed behind you.

You walked forward to the looming desk in the dark room. It looked just the one you passed with a long line of shades awaiting for Hades to appear.

Achilles stood before it and you could feel his rage coming off of him. When you saw him this angry when you both were alive, it usually meant some people were going to lose their heads. It was a rare sight now to see him almost shaking in rage.

It was all the warning you needed.

Hades looked up from your father and smiled.

It wasn't a kind one.

"Lord Hades, thank you for welcoming me to your home." You glanced over to Achilles, "Father."

You hoped he heard the unspoken words. His blue eyes met your and you almost frowned at the guilt you saw there.

"Now, Achilles, will you explain the situation to your son or shall I?" Hades asked, sounding pleased with himself.

You kept your face blank, not giving away the worries you felt. Achilles took a deep breath before turning to you.

"Lord Hades wants us to make a decision. To keep Patroclus in Elysium, I will be 'retiring' and you will have my current job."

"Or?" You asked. Achilles's mouth tightens, "Or Patroclus will be kicked out of Elysium along with you, and I will not be allowed again to have any contact."

So no decisions, just threats. What did Achilles do to make Lord Hades change the deal?

You looked at Achilles then to Lord Hades. "It would be an honor to serve the house, Lord Hades but may I make a request?"

"Oh? What request is that?" Hades glowered at you but you kept your blank face even if you wanted to personally slam your spear between his eyes.

"My father, Achilles will have his retirement in Elysium along with my other father, Patroclus." You paused, "And the retirement is permanent."

Achilles whipped his head and hissed, "Lad, what do you think you're doing? That was already part of the deal, don't waste it."

"Done." Hades said, "lucky for you, Achilles. Y/N is more like Patroclus, he is able to actually think ahead. You didn't even ask where I was sending you for your retirement. You are both dismissed."

Achilles opened his mouth to argue but you placed a hand on his shoulder to stop him. He glared at you but kept his mouth shut.

"Of course, thank you, lord Hades." You tugged your father to follow you out. As you followed your father down the hallways, you looked over to him.

"Pa is going to be furious." You told him mildly. Achilles just groaned.

You met Hypnos, the odd little creature that followed you around, on the first day of your duty. Even if the first hour was Hypnos just peeking around the corner.

"I've heard of you, even all the way down here." Hypnos told you when he finally found his courage. He was floating but you see the excitement in his body, if he was on his feets, he would be rocking on his heels.

With his curls and his big golden eyes, he reminded you of those too pretty boys that rich politicians would bring along to watch fights while leaving the wives at home.

He leaned forward, his hand resting under his chin. His golden eyes watching your face with a curious look.

"Y/N, the Greek hero who took out monsters in a single strike, was able to hold off Ares and is the son of Achilles and Patroclus. Both great warriors in their own right." He smiled. "Is it true by the way?"

For a moment, all you saw was Ares' mad eyes staring down at you and the taste of blood in your mouth. Everything else had faded away, the sand and screaming of dying men echoed and all you knew is blood and blood and blood and blood -

“Y/N?” Hypnos’ voice, confused and almost too soft, pulled you out.

"Yes. I fought him.” And you said nothing else and stared at the wall. You didn’t realize the memories had taken you for a trip. Normally, only your fathers' voices were able to pull you back.

"You must tell me how!" He filled in your vision, his eyes wide and hopeful.

“No.” You said bluntly. "I'm busy." And you're too attractive for someone so irritating, you thought.

“But-“ Hypnos pouted and you had made yourself look away before you got caught staring at his mouth.

"Hypnos, don't bother him. It is still his first day." Prince Zagreus spoke from behind Hypnos.

Hypnos spun away from you and floated around Zagreus. "Oooh, so how did you die this time? Did a chariot run you over again?"

Zagreus gave a strained smile in greeting. "Forgive Hypnos, I think he forgot his manners when he heard you were joining us in the house."

You shook your head, "It's perfectly fine, your highness." You stared at the prince, the whole reason you were even here was because he looped your father into helping with his runaway attempts.

Zagreus nodded, his face polite but nervous. "Achilles told me I should train with you. That you are actually better at fighting than he is."

"Only in hand to hand combat, otherwise, if you give my father a spear he would win every time." You told him, trying to push away the memories but you could already smell the sharp tang of blood.

"He fought a tribe of centaurs when he was a mere child, Zagreus and he won!" Hypnos gushed, "And he took down Ares!"

You shook your head slightly and the smell of blood went away. Hypnos did it again.

How odd.

Hypnos used Zagreus' head as an armrest much to the latter's displeasure. Zagreus shook him off as he asked, "You killed Ares?"

"No, just knock him out long enough to let my men escape." You left it at that. Ares was more monster than god, and you would rather not revisit those nightmares.

"Zagreus if you like, I can train you later. It would be interesting to see how different our training might be." You said, hoping they would take the hint.

Zagreus nodded, "Of course, I will come find you later."

Zagreus moved to leave but upon seeing that Hypnos wasn't going to leave, grabbed Hypnos' by his cape and pulled him away.

"Come on, Hypnos. I think you do even less work than I do, and I don't even work anymore." Zagreus said pleasantly but an undercurrent of a warning.

You didn't hear Hypnos' response beyond an offended gasp.

You shook your head, no wonder Achilles only wanted quiet when he came to see you and Patroclus.

Of course when it was time for Zagreus' training with you, Hypnos followed along. You thought about kicking him out but knew he would sneak back in later. You know because this wasn't the first time you trained Zagreus and nothing else seemed to work.

Also for some reason, this god ended up being a grounding point for you. You didn't want to admit it but it made being in the house bearable and not a daily fight to stay in the presence. Not that you needed his help.

You pointed toward Zagreus to the middle of the room and turned to Hypnos who beamed up at you. "You. Corner. If I hear one peek from you…" You warned.

Hypnos held his hands and floated silently to the corner. You ignored how Hypnos' eyes followed you around the room. Hypnos wasn't the first fan boy you had and as long you don't feed the attention seeking, he will get bored sooner or later.

Zagreus was a good student. Mostly. But you could tell your father was more careful with him than he was with you.

You shook your head and held up an open hand, "Hit me again."

Zagreus swung a fist into your hand, only to hit the side of your palm. "Alright, step back."

You crossed your arms, "You need to be more intentional in your hits. You're creating more work for yourself. And you won't always have that sword on you."

Zagreus frowned, "I'm fighting monsters down there, not humans. If I don't have a weapon, they're not going down."

"Like I said you won't always have a weapon in you. Lord Hades took away my father, and that was your best tool. What are you going to do if he takes away your weapons and you can't get them back?"

You raised a brow and asked "Are you going to stay down here and obey like a good little boy?"

And you could tell you stuck a nerve at the scowl Zagreus gave you. Hypnos made a mocking sound and Zagreus whipped his head around to glare at Hypnos.

You mentally sighed, your father got soft over the years. Just for arguing back, Achilles would have You running laps from sunup to sundown while carrying bags of feed.

"Here, let's wrap up with a quick brush up for your next lesson." You said, not bothering to comfort him. The sooner you can break Zagreus out of your father's soft training, the better. "Do you know all the weak points of a body?"

Before Zagreus could respond, Hypnos butted in. "Oooh, I do! Eyes and groin!"

You took a breath when suddenly an idea came to you. You turned to the god, "Hypnos, since you're so eager, come on over here."

Hypnos looked at Zagreus who shrugged then back to you. "Okay." He dragged out the word with suspicion in his tone.

"Well?" You asked, keeping your tone friendly with a smile on your face. You waited until Hypnos got close enough to grab his shoulders and forced him to stand on his feet.

You grabbed his face with a hand, squishing his cheeks. He made a squeaky sound and you bit back a smirk. A little humiliation should be enough to get Hypnos to stay away and you can focus on what you came here to do. The only reason you bothered with helping Zagreus was because your father asked you too.

"Pay attention, I expect you to remember this for your next lesson." You told Zagreus.

"Hypnos got two right, but he forgot about the nose and honestly, almost anything you will ever fight will have a weakness here." You tapped Hypnos between his eyes which made him blinked. "Hit here or here if you can get a good upward swing ," you tapped the tip of Hypnos' nose, "With preciseness you won't need much force and you save energy as well."

Next You turned his head toward you and could see the start of a flush. Good, it was working.

You pointed to the area between the ear and jaw, "This won't kill but it will make your opponent dizzy and that could buy the second you need to finish them."

You went on listing other parts of the body for Zagreus and Hypnos obediently went along with it. Moving his arm and lifting a leg up.

"And lastly, the groin like Hypnos said earlier but I doubt I need to go in depth about that area." You finished as you let Hypnos go.

"Got it?" You asked.

"Yes, sir." Zagreus smirked at his friend's misfortune.

`Hypnos just stayed silent, flushed to his hairline.

You were sure you wouldn't see Hypnos for a while but the little god surprised you. Just a day after the training, he seeked you out.

"Achilles didn't teach you how to fight, did he?" Hypnos asked. His dark circles were deeper than normal and you got the feeling he didn't get much rest.

"What makes you say that?" You asked, actually curious about Hypnos' thought process.

"I mean, you're unusually strong and you seem to have, let's say, a more ruthless fighting style than your father does. Not bad, mind you, just different." Hypnos shrugged, "I've seen him train Zagreus. And it's just different."

You thought about bushing him off, but something about how tired he looked made you speak up. "You're right. Kinda. He wasn't my first teacher. I was sold as a child for a fighting ring. And they usually don't let the loser live." You tighten your hold the spear, to ward off the memories.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I couldn't imagine." Hypnos said. "I didn't mean to bring up any bad memories."

You blinked several times, "You didn't."

But the look on Hypnos' face told you he didn't believe you.

Screaming. Inhuman mad screaming.

Patroclus' body broken on the ground and Achilles stared past You even as you tried to talk to him.

You felt like you lost both of your fathers as you trailed behind Achilles on his warpath.

Hands wet with blood and you think you should be screaming too but Patroclus was broken and gone and the screaming never stopped-

"Y/N. Hey, Y/N." Hypnos stood in front of you, his big golden eyes concerned. For a moment, you weren't standing in the East wing with Hypnos.

But a burning city and people running and crying. And Hypnos stood in the middle of it.

What was the little god doing here?

“Y/N!”

You blinked and you were back in the east wing, no smoke or no fire or crying followed.

“Hypnos?” You realized you had a tight grip on Hypnos’ arm as if you wanted to yank him out of the memories.

You let go. “I-i my apologies, Hypnos. I-“

“Wowie, that must have been a bad one huh?” Hypnos didn’t look upset and you frowned at him. “Are you not…?” You trailed off, not sure what to say.

“No.” Hypnos said softly. “I know the story about how you… Died and what happened to your head.” Hypnos waved a hand toward his own head, trying to make his point clear. “I guess what I’m saying is no, I’m not upset or mad or whatever. I just wanna know if you’re okay.”

You said nothing for several moments, looking at Hypnos’s kind face and realized to your great shame exactly how little you understood Hypnos and his intentions.

“Yes, thank you.” You told him softly.

You tapped your foot as you waited on Zagreus to show up. You have been in the house for several months now and Zagreus didn't always show up for training especially since he was getting closer to the surface.

Hypnos floated lazily around the room, waiting for you to look away so he could touch one of the weapons. Normally Skully was here to chase him off but apparently not even Skully wanted to show up.

After a few more minutes and warning Hypnos off on touching the spear, you got tired of waiting for Zagreus.

"Come on, Hypnos I think his highness must be on one of his attempts." You told him.

"Wait, wait or you could train me!" Hypnos circled you. He gave you the puppy dog eyes and you shook your head.

"Please. I've been so good when you're training Zagreus! Just one time." Hypnos begged.

And of course, you gave in.

"Alright. On your feet."

You chuckled at Hypnos' cheering.

Hypnos was… You didn't know what he was. After the day of failed attempts of embarrassment, Hypnos stuck around. He would follow you around like a lost puppy whenever he could.

You knew he was lonely, quietly trying to repair the broken bonds with his family. That he had near encyclopedia knowledge about Greek Heroes and monsters, even about your own fathers'. That he loved sweets but would eat raw honey every time if given the chance.

And the fact that just like your fathers, he was able to pull you back into the now.

He was...

Friend, you think firmly, he had become a friend.

“Can I ask you something? Like super personal?” Hypnos said out of the blue one day. You raised an eyebrow, “I have never known a personal question to stop you before but sure, you can ask me.”

“Why haven’t you drunk from the river Lethe? Wouldn’t it help?” Hypnos said, biting a thumbnail.

Oh. No wonder he was nervous.

“I don’t want to forget. I need to remember as much as I can.” You told him gently. Hypnos tilted his head, confusion on his face.

“If I forget, I won’t be the same person. You can’t forget without losing a part of yourself and I want to keep all of me. The bad and good.” You tried to explain, feeling like you sound like a cheesy philosopher.

“Oh. I think I get it.” Hypnos said. His smile was small but warm. Blood and darkness, you had gotten soft. You couldn’t stop the bust of fondness that your chest and you already looked like a fool so why not go farther?

“Like you, I wouldn’t want to forget you, Hypnos.” You said, a blush forming on your cheeks.

Hypnos blinked as if he didn’t understand what you just said but you saw a blush form on his own cheeks.

“I wouldn’t want to forget you too, Y/N.”

Part two

#hypnos x reader #hades hypnos #requests

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witcher-and-his-bard-archive · 3 years

Text

Any Reason At All

Pairing: Geralt x Jaskier Warning(s): a little bit of horniness in no.5 Rating: mature

Summary: Five times there is a very good reason for Jaskier and Geralt to kiss, and one time there is no reason at all.

on ao3

one.

A first kiss is supposed to be something special and Jaskier has had so many of them over the years. But usually, they're with different people. He's not used to having more than one first kiss with the same person and certainly wasn't expecting that person to be Geralt.

The first time, they've been away from town a long time and Jaskier is... wanting. He knows this contract is worth a lot and Geralt has been so focused on tracking that he probably hasn't realized how long it's been since they've been to town. But Jaskier has and he's getting antsy.

"Geralt do you think-" he tugs his boot out of a patch of brambles and sighs, "that we could head back soon? Sleep at an inn tonight?" he doesn't get a response, so he just sighs and plops down right where he is. Up ahead, Geralt shouts back without even pausing,

"Are you just gonna sit there or are you coming with me?"

Jaskier sighs. Geralt's right though, he can't just sit here all night. So he reluctantly gets up and goes after him, muttering under his breath. They continue in this way for the next three hours.

"It's just that... I haven't even kissed someone in weeks. Weeks, Geralt. Do you know what that's like? It's torture, utter-" he walks directly into Geralt's back with a thud and takes a step back as Geralt turns to face him.

"Jaskier," he says abruptly, but not overly angry. Jaskier's eyes flick up to his and he pauses. "If I kiss you, will you shut up and let me get on with it?"

"Uh, y-yes?"

Immediately, Geralt's palm is on his cheek and Jaskier is breathless. He leans in without hesitation and Jaskier is absolutely not prepared for Geralt's mouth on his own. He kisses him gently, leaning in and it's slow and deep and Jaskier isn't sure he's going to survive. Geralt takes a step forward and Jaskier presses into him, letting out a soft moan as Geralt's lips part against his own.

And he drowns in it. Pulled under by the current, he lets himself sink. His whole body burns with it and he can't breathe, but if he pulls back Geralt might stop and he doesn't think he could bear that. And all the while Geralt's hand remains on his face, anchoring him.

And he just... doesn't stop. Geralt's other hand comes to rest on his hip and it goes on for so long that Jaskier is expecting it to lead to something more.

When Geralt does pull away, it's abrupt and Jaskier is left reeling. He's breathless and more than a little turned on and who even knew Witchers were so skilled at kissing in the first place? Where the fuck did that even come from?

"That was..." he starts and when he looks up, Geralt is already a dozen paces ahead of him. "Geralt! Where did you- that was... very good you know. I didn't take you for someone who would be so-"

"What?" Geralt asks.

"I just didn't think you got a lot of practice, is all."

Geralt scoffs, rolling his eyes as he turns back to his tracking. Theoretically, Jaskier knows Geralt has had some practice with kissing and sex. He's been to brothels and some of his friends seem just this side of too familiar, but shit he was not expecting that.

Jaskier is quick to catch up to him again, but he spends the rest of the night in a daze.

two.

Jaskier has been invited to a ball. Normally, he would be delighted to attend an event back home, but it's a special celebration, a party to celebrate his sister's engagement and it's for family only. But Jaskier isn't about to drag Geralt all the way to Lettenhove and tell him he's not allowed to come. Which only leaves one option-

"I need you to be my husband," he announces cheerfully. They're already well on their way to the coast and Jaskier has been considering how to break the news before deciding it's best to just get it over with. "They won't let anyone in who's not family, but they could hardly refuse my husband entry now, could they?"

He beams up at Geralt, stumbling a little over a rock. He thinks it's a great plan, but Geralt doesn't show emotion one way or the other. He just stays silent and looks ahead again. Jaskier would give anything to know what's going on in his head right now.

It doesn't come up again until they're on the border of Temeria and about to cross into Kerack. Jaskier reminds him again when they're sharing a room at an inn. Geralt refuses to share the bed so Jaskier offers it to him before climbing up next to him and cuddling up behind him. Geralt grumbles.

"Hush my love. You're my husband, remember? You can hardly deny me the warmth of our bed so soon after our marriage."

Geralt scoffs at him, but Jaskier thinks it sounds more like a laugh than a grunt and he'll take what he can get.

They set out early the next morning, reaching the borders of Lettenhove by late evening. Jaskier is exhausted and Geralt seems to be getting antsy - probably about the party, maybe about the lie. Jaskier isn't worried about it, he knows well enough how to throw his title around when he needs to and most of the time, it works.

They're stopped at the bridge across to the palace and Jaskier dismounts, nodding his head at the guardsmen. One of them gives him a flash of a smile before looking up and scowling at Geralt.

"Your invitation was for one, master Julian."

"You'd hardly deny my husband entry," Jaskier says simply. The guard lifts an eyebrow and gives Jaskier a questioning look.

"The viscount isn't married," he says simply.

"I understand where your position, truly," Jaskier starts, "but I've been away for some time and in that time, I've found myself not only betrothed but married to a man whom I love very much and whom I wish to bring home to introduce to my family."

The guard looks unconvinced and Jaskier is both angry at his defiance and the fact that he simply refuses to believe Jaskier would marry someone like Geralt. Which, as a matter of fact, he would be delighted to do. Anger boils up and he's about to start threatening when Geralt slips from Roach, coming up to wind a comforting arm around his waist.

"It's fine, love," he whispers and it may just be a ruse, but Jaskier will never forget the sound of that word on his lips, the way it shudders through him like the cold.

"It's not-" he starts, but his voice fails him and before he can do anything else, Geralt gets two fingers under his chin, tipping it up so Jaskier is looking at him.

"Go alone, I wouldn't want you to miss your sister's party on my account. You can introduce us another time."

The look in his eyes is so unbearably soft and when he leans in, Jaskier's breath catches in his chest. Cold lips brush against his own and Geralt leans in, deepening the kiss as Jaskier presses into it. It's so unexpected that Jaskier isn't sure what to do with it, but Geralt's arm remains around his waist and he pulls him forward, pressing their bodies together.

Jaskier is stunned by his enthusiasm. Geralt leans into him, fingers twitching against his hip as he deepens the kiss and Jaskier barely withholds a groan as he feels Geralt's tongue against the seam of his lips. He wants to press into the touch, wants to touch and feel and have him, but it's a fine line between pretending to be with him and pushing too far. And right now, Jaskier isn't exactly sure where that line is.

Because Geralt's hands slip under his doublet, moving further until they're on either side of his chest, moving down to settle in the dip of his sides. And Geralt just presses closer, breathing hard through his nose and nipping softly at Jaskier's lower lip.

And Jaskier can't keep from losing himself, can't hold himself together with Geralt like this, so he kisses him hard. He throws his arms around his neck, arching against him as Geralt's teeth press in a little firmer and it's not until the more suspicious guard clears his throat that he's tugged abruptly back to reality.

He pulls out of Geralt's arms, smoothing his clothes down even as the memory of Geralt's hands on him lingers. He opens his mouth to speak, but Geralt's voice is the one he hears.

"Apologies," he pants, "it's been… some time since my lord and I have been together. He keeps so busy I don't see him often and we were hoping to get to the palace and to our room."

The same guard chokes and steps aside, not even daring to look at them as Geralt reaches up and takes Roach's reins, tugging gently to urge her forward.

It's not until they get to their room that Jaskier finally trusts his voice enough to speak and to thank Geralt for getting them out of what could otherwise have been a mess.

three.

Jaskier is struggling. It's been a relatively easy day in an easy week, but tonight he has time to compose and he can't get this one particular verse right. And it's killing him.

It's supposed to be a romantic ballad of a peasant woman in disguise as a knight, recusing the love of her life from where she's been held captive in a tower. The longing of being apart, he's got down, but now he's reached the point where they're reunited and he can't get the words out. And how is he supposed to when he needs to write a kiss and he himself hasn't been kissed in ages (Geralt notwithstanding, but even that was weeks ago now and they're not talking about it).

He's just not feeling very romantic tonight, so he flings himself back onto the grass, staring up at the stars with his notebook and lute on his chest and he sighs. Across the camp, Geralt makes a noise and shifts.

"What's wrong?" he asks, not even looking up from where he's stitching one of his shirts back together.

"How am I supposed to write the most romantic ballads the continent has ever heard when there is so little romance in my life?" Geralt snorts at him, attention still focused on his shirt. "Do you know," Jaskier continues, "that I can't even remember what it's like to be kissed?"

Geralt just lifts a skeptical eyebrow at him but says nothing.

"Perhaps you could help?" Jaskier suggests.

"What could I possibly do to help?"

"I have it on good authority that you're an excellent kisser and… maybe we could do that again. For research purposes, you see."

"What," Geralt smirks, "your memory not good enough for you?"

"Please, Geralt, it'll help."

For a moment there's nothing, then there's a scuffling sound and when Jaskier looks over, Geralt is rising to his feet. He crosses to stand in front of him, nudging Jaskier's knees apart to stand between them and Jaskier holds his breath. Geralt bends low over him, cupping his cheek and pulling him into a soft kiss. He doesn't let himself sink too much into it, keeping only at the surface and Geralt hums against him.

He shoves a leg between his thighs, pushing closer, but just as Jaskier bites back a moan, Geralt pulls back before it can get to be too much.

"Good enough?" he asks and Jaskier wants to say no, to pull him down and kiss him senseless and press against him and- he pulls himself back to the present and looks up at Geralt, nodding solemnly.

He pulls himself back up, taking his quill to paper and scratching out notes of what he wants Geralt to do to him. If he can't write a kiss from memory, he can write about what he wants.

four.

He's not supposed to get involved in Geralt's battles, but what was he supposed to do when Geralt was disarmed and backed into a corner. Jaskier jumps into the fray, bolting for Geralt's sword. If he can just get it to him- but he catches the attention of the devourer and instead of getting Geralt his sword back to him, he only manages to distract the devourer by turning its attention on him.

For a few moments, he manages to keep it away from Geralt and also keep away from it, but it's fast, faster than he is and before long, Jaskier finds himself right in front of it. The thing swings at him and Jaskier ducks, but not quickly enough. The strength of the devourer sends him flying sideways into a tree and Jaskier cries out as his shoulder connects with solid wood.

Immediately, he pulls himself up to his feet, holding his shoulder and seething. He tries to call the beast toward him again, but it's turned his attention back to Geralt. Luckily, the diversion bought him some time and Geralt has had time to retrieve his sword and lunge for the monster.

And he looks furious. Jaskier is dreading whatever comes next for him, but for now, he's just relieved that Geralt is in control again. Geralt dodges and swipes and fakes out, eventually overtaking the beast and piercing his sword up through the underside of its jaw. It shudders on his blade then collapses against the dirt and it's barely stopped moving before Geralt is bolting forward, dropping to his knees right in front of Jaskier.

"Are you hurt?" he asks and Jaskier shakes his head, but only because he doesn't trust his voice not to waver if he speaks. "Let go of your shoulder," Geralt says calmly and slowly, Jaskier does as he's asked. "I think it's dislocated," Geralt hums, looking it over and brushing his hands over his shoulder.

"What does that mean?"

"It means I have to put it back into place for you."

"I.. no, I don't think so. Can't it just go back on its own?"

"It won't," Geralt huffs, "it has to be put back or it's going to continue to hurt and be useless."

"Please-" Jaskier says, but Geralt cuts him off.

"Last week you threw yourself between me and a harpy and just now you tried to fend off a devourer and you don't want me to put your shoulder back into place?"

Jaskier shakes his head and Geralt sighs. He tries again, but Jaskier is adamant and then suddenly there are warm lips against his and he gasps at the suddenness of it before letting himself enjoy it. Geralt kisses him deeply, running one hand through his hair and then his other hand is on his shoulder, shoving and-

Jaskier pulls back with a start as pain shoots through him, but when he tries to move his arm, the pain is significantly less than before. He looks up at Geralt to find him looking rather smug at him and Jaskier splutters.

"You used me-" he accuses, but Geralt just huffs a quiet laugh at him, taking his arm again and wrapping it up so he can't move it around too much and make it worse.

It does feel better and by the time they turn in for bed that night, Jaskier is reluctantly grateful for it. But as he watches Geralt methodically prepare for bed, he's a little disappointed that the kiss didn't last longer this time.

five.

Strictly speaking, Jaskier isn't supposed to be here at all. The contract had specified utmost secrecy and while Geralt is usually willing to do anything asked of him (within reason), he was firm but not leaving Jaskier alone with a bruxa roaming the halls of the castle, regardless of what the king had asked. The working story, if caught, is that Jaskier is acting as bait, but Jaskier likes to pretend that Geralt just doesn't want him out of his sight after the incident with the devourer.

So now at midnight, they're creeping through the halls, looking for any sign of the bruxa but so far there's nothing. Though the bodies the previous night say something is definitely lurking around after hours. Geralt slips around a corner, motioning for Jaskier to hold back and he does, but a second later Geralt is barreling back into him, hissing for him to get back.

They stumble back and Jaskier is suddenly pressed back against the wall firmly. Geralt hesitates for a moment, looking away from him, but then Jaskier hears the voices coming closer and Geralt pushes him back again, pressing a hand over his mouth. And abruptly, Jaskier's body goes limp under him, a side effect of years of being shoved up against walls for very different reasons.

Geralt seems unconcerned and slowly pulls his hand away, whispering for him to be quiet. Jaskier nods his understanding, but Geralt is so close and he smells good and he can't help the way his body reacts to that.

The guards come closer and Geralt presses right against him and Jaskier can't help the little moan that escapes him. It's quiet, barely even a sound, but in the silence of the hall it seems to echo and Jaskier bites down on his lip too late. Geralt's eyes snap onto his and in the very near distance, Jaskier can hear the guards' footsteps speed up.

But then Geralt is kissing him, somehow even closer than a moment before so there's not even an inch of space between them and Jaskier's mind goes blank. He can't think of anything but Geralt's mouth against him, hot and demanding and not letting up, even as the guards turn the corner. A diversion, he realizes, but it doesn't stop him from winding his arms around Geralt's waist and sliding his hands down over his ass.

Barely a few paces away now, the guards continue their approach, but Geralt pushes a knee between Jaskier's and he'd be happy enough to be tossed in the dungeon so long as they can continue uninterrupted. His hips give a little twitch and Geralt growls into his mouth and that… seems too real to be a diversion. Jaskier feels the vibrations all the way through him and he stutters when he pulls Geralt closer because Geralt's hard, the line of his cock pressing against Jaskier's thigh. Which is something. Jaskier doesn't have the wherewithal to process that right now, but then Geralt is tipping his head up roughly, ducking to kiss his neck just as the guards come upon them.

There's a thud as one walks straight into the other and then scattered mumbling as they trip over themselves to apologize and when Geralt looks up at them, they both mumble additional apologies and turn back in the opposite direction. Geralt doesn't kiss him again, but he doesn't pull away from him and Jaskier is aching with the effort it takes not to rut up against him.

Eventually, long after Jaskier can't hear the footsteps anymore, Geralt pulls away and Jaskier nearly cries though he's unsure if it's from relief or disappointment. He either wants Geralt back against him immediately or he needs to go back to their room on his own for a while and he doesn't see either being a likely option.

"Come on," Geralt whispers and Jaskier just shuts his eyes, leaning back against the wall.

"I'm just gonna… need a minute." To his surprise, Geralt nods and turns away.

By the time they get back to their room that night, Geralt seems to have forgotten the entire situation, but Jaskier will be thinking about it for the rest of their trip, if not the rest of his life.

plus one.

It's been a while since they've just been able to relax, but when they stroll into Oxenfurt, they arrive in the middle of a festival. There's a market in the center of town and various stages with performers scattered within the city so that everywhere they go, there's music on the air. Jaskier shuts his eyes and listens as they make their way to the inn. Once they've rented a room and organized their things, Jaskier asks if they might head down toward the festivities and Geralt, to his surprise, agrees.

They stroll through town looking at all the booths and stopping to watch the performers. Jaskier takes a turn on one of the stages, delighted when Geralt stays to watch, a soft smile on his face, and he's the only one Jaskier sees in the crowd. Afterward, they split sweet buns and pastries and fruit ciders of every variety imaginable. It's been a long time since Jaskier has enjoyed himself so thoroughly, and as the sun begins to set, he takes Geralt's hand and leads him, tipsy and warm with intoxication outside the city.

Others are already gathering for the firework celebration and Jaskier finds them a spot on the ridge of a hill, somehow unclaimed despite its views over the river. He plops himself down, only letting go of Geralt's hand when the angle becomes too awkward, but Geralt sits behind him, and Jaskier shuffles back, sitting between his thighs and leaning back against his chest.

It earns him a huff of amusement, but Geralt doesn't complain and doesn't tell him to move. They're both a little drunk, but the sunset is beautiful and Jaskier can't think of a better way to end his night, nor a better person to share it with. By the time they set off the fireworks, he's so tired he can barely keep his eyes open, instead resting his head against Geralt's chest and listening to the crack of their explosions, quickly followed by cheers and sounds of awe from the younger spectators.

Geralt's hand rests on his thigh and Jaskier twines their fingers together, humming softly as Geralt wraps his hand around his.

He doesn't realize he's fallen asleep until Geralt is shifting under him and for a moment, he's disappointed to have woken up because he's sure Geralt would have carried him back to the inn otherwise. But he looks up and Geralt smiles softly down at him, brushing a stray hair out of his face and Jaskier wouldn't trade this night for anything.

They make their way back to the inn, bumping against each other in their drowsiness and it's not until they get up to their room that Jaskieer realizes the room they booked only has one bed. They've both been looking forward to crawling into bed and sleeping well for once because it's been some time since they've had a bed. Jaskier makes a quick decision to let Geralt take the bed because it's hardly big enough for the both of them to share, even if they've done it a hundred times before when coin was low.

But Geralt strips down to his shorts and when he climbs into bed, he shuffles to one side, holding the blankets back in invitation. And Jaskier isn't one to turn down such an invitation, so he quickly undresses and climbs in next to him. He lies facing out into the room with Geralt's chest against his back, warm and rising softly with his breath.

"I had a good night tonight," he hums, "it's a shame we can't do this more often."

"Mm," comes the reply from behind, much closer than Jaskier had anticipated. He can feel Geralt's breath against the back of his neck and he shuts his eyes with a soft sigh.

"Did you enjoy yourself?"

"I did."

Jaskier turns over to face him, and Geralt smiles at him without opening his eyes. Jaskier shifts closer, tangling their legs together and Geralt's arm comes to drape over his hip, bringing him closer. The smile remains firmly in place and Jaskier's heart feels like it could burst from his chest.

"Geralt?" he asks quietly.

"Hm?"

Jaskier looks up at him, unable to find the words to properly thank him for the night, and he reaches up, brushing one hand through his hair.

"Thank you," he whispers, though the words feel flat on his tongue, not enough to express how much he truly appreciates tonight. Geralt hums again, tipping his head down so their noses bump together.

"Jaskier," he breathes.

There's nothing else, but then Geralt's lips brush against his own, soft and tentative and Jaskier's heart nearly stops. It's hardly the first time he's kissed him, but Geralt is so much softer than before, pressing forward only when Jaskier moves against him. And this is so different from before.

Tonight, there's no reason for Geralt to kiss him, there's certainly no reason for him to be so soft and gentle with him - none other than he simply wants to - and Jaskier could cry. He lets himself be drawn closer, completely entangled with Geralt as he kisses him, soft and slow and delightfully pointless.

There's no need for it, just the want to be closer, to feel each other, and Jaskier sinks into it easily, losing himself to the soft press of Geralt's lips of the brush of his thumb against his hip. When they do finally part, Jaskier isn't disappointed that it's over, because Geralt kisses his nose and his forehead as he settles against him and rather than an ending, it feels like the beginning.

#geraskier #5+1 things #first kisses #they're in love your honour #rex writes

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xsugarysweetsx · 3 years

Text

Request; from @tsundere-cherry-girl

Hello there! I love your writings btw, especially the Levi ones. I’ve seen you write scenarios like this before so I was gonna ask if you could do Zuko x pregnant reader. If you’ve read the comics, she becomes pregnant around the time of the Promise and goes into labor after the final battle in Smoke and Shadow. The child being Izumi. If you haven’t read the comics you don’t need to do that. I just want to see some Zuko and reader with baby Izumi fluff UwU

A/N: I changed it up just a tiny bit to fit the comic but also be it’s own story as well, ALSO! I’m sorry this took so long!

Warning; Long, had to be cut for length

Please enjoy~🍰

*******************************************************

The night was calm, quiet, and warm. You laid in your husbands arms as you both slept. After so much chaos, hatred and war you were finally able to rest. Well, almost, Zuko has been very jumpy since being crowned fire lord. Although some of his hunches did turn out to be true, he was very set on someone trying to kill him

“Guards!“ he had woken you from your sleep calling for the guards again, “Someone is here, secure Y/N and search the area!“ he ordered them as he jumped from bed. You following him to bring him back to bed

“Fire Lord Zuko, there is no one here, you’re safe“ one explained rushing to the door where he was ready to fight. Sometimes you thought he had too much trauma as a child that it will forever effect him

“Zuko sweet, please come back to bed. The guards have been here the whole night“ you said laying a hand on his chest attempting to keep him in a calmer state

“You highness I can assure you no one is here-“

“There have been 5 attempts already on my life! Next thing you know they’ll come for my wife“ he grabbed the guard by the front of his uniform to make the message clear as to how serious he was

“Sir we’ve-“ just as the guard spoke his head had been hit by an object knocking him out to the floor. Zuko pushes you behind him and gets into his fighting stance ready to defend you

“Who’s there?! Show yourself“ just as commanded the intruder shows themselves whirling around what seemed to be a metal ball with spikes. Right before your eyes they go at it. Taking swings at each other, sooner than expected Zuko has his opponent at his mercy being taken away by his guards. He comes back to check on you

“Hey are you alright? Are you hurt?” he checks your face, you hands anything that could have gotten a scratch. You were physically okay but mentally you didn’t feel so well. You haven’t been feeling 100% for some time now and you were getting suspicious

“I’m not hurt but, I don’t feel well Zuko“ you said leaning your head on his shoulder “Can you help me to bed please?“ You ask him, he wraps an arm around you and helps you walk to the bed and lay down. Walking back to the door his guards wait for his order

“I want double the guards here tonight and tomorrow I need the royal healer here for Y/N“

“Yes Sir!“ he closes the door and walks back to your side of the bed. Kissing your head he watches over you through the night. For one, you might not feel well, and the other being of what just happened. It was going to be a very long night....

~~~

The next morning the healer came as asked and took some time to check up on you while Zuko got ready for the day. He had given you some medical tea blends and told you to get rest. Turns out you were pregnant. Now you needed a way to tell Zuko, and with all the stress he’s under you wouldn’t know how to react. You had just finished getting dressed when he had walked in

“Y/N, I’m heading out into town to settle last nights incident. What did the healer say?“ he asked coming over to where you sat

“Well, it’s nothing to be worried about but, something that will change everything“ you said fiddling with the tips of your hair

“Well?“ he urges you “Come on Y/N, if I hear you’re okay it’ll make my day better“ he offered a soft smile which he knew, you melted for. You said and take his hands into yours and look into his eyes

“I’m pregnant...“ his jaw went slack almost as if he were frozen in time. It scared you “Zuko...?“ anything, he could just make a sound but you needed to hear him say something.

“I....I have to go. I’ll see you later.“ he said kissing your forehead and leaving without saying another word. You were, hurt. You didn’t blame him completely because expressing his emotions wasn’t exactly his forte. Instead while he was out you went to the other person you trusted the most.

Knocking softly on the entrance to the garden Iroh was sat drinking some tea.

“Ah Y/N, good morning come have some tea. I heard Zuko went to town to settle some things“ he said as he poured you a cup “I’ve also heard you’ve got something on your hands“

You simply nod and take the tea he held out to you

“So, why don’t you tell me about it“ he said with a kind smile. Iroh was probably the wisest, kindest soul you knew.

~~~

Later that afternoon Zuko came back and if anything looked more tired than before. You had a hunch as to where he was but you were hoping it wasn't true. Walking to him you cup his chin with both your hands and make him look at you in the eye

“You need to relax more...“ you said running your thumb over the bags under his eyes “You’re going to be tired before the baby gets here..and stop visiting your father, it’s not good for you“

His larger hands come up to hold yours “I’ll try, and I’m sorry about before...I’m happy” he offered a soft smile

“Are you really?“ you pout slightly making him peck your lips

“Yes I am, I know I’m not the best person for a father or husband..”

“Zuko“ you bring his forehead to rest on yours “You are the best person to be my husband and the father of my children. I couldn’t want anyone else“

As time went on things only weighed in his shoulders more. You were probably the only thing that kept him sane. You were also starting to show, your baby was growing nicely and very restless as well. On days when Zuko would have trouble sleeping the baby would get restless leaving both of you tired. But he had figured it out, if he lays in bed with you and talks to your bump, the baby calms down.

“What do you think it’ll be Zuko?“ you asked

“Hmm, I think it’s a girl. They refuse to listen, and gets upset when I don’t talk to it, I’d say it’s you any day“ you gently wack his shoulder causing you both to laugh “I don’t mind what they are, if they’re healthy and we can make them happy is all I care about“

“You’re going to be a great father Zuko“ you said kissing his forehead

“But...what if-“

“I’m going to stop you ahead of time. You are NOTHING like that man and you will never be. You are the kindest, strongest, best man I have ever met and our baby is lucky enough to have you as a father”

Yes, he was terrified to make the same mistake this father make the same mistake his father made. You knew him better than anyone and if he were half as back as his father, you wouldn’t be there at that moment.

~~~

By the time you were almost due it seemed as if war had never left. From Azula attacking once again, to disagreements and even almost a Fight with Aang. Things were heavy on his shoulders, he’s tightened security because of your baby. The last thing he wanted was for anything to happen to you both.

Finally a day where everything was being settled, calmly he felt some kind of relief. That was until a guard barged into the meeting room to announce you had gone into labor. The funny thing about Zuko is that he’s fast and for some reason no one sees him. As soon as people looked away from the door and back to Zuko, only his chair was in their sight.

“Do you think he left that fast when he heard you were alive?” Sokka asked as the room became quiet

Rushing to the healers room at the door he was told he wasn’t allowed inside.

“What do you mean?! My wife is giving birth to our baby and I need to be with her!” This was going to be an old rule he was going to get rid of...

“I-I apologize sir but it’s been a tradition for generations-“

“ZUKO!!” Next thing you knew one of the midwives came to the door and saw Zuko and said

“The lady wishes for you to be with her Fire Lord Zuko” she said timidly. It took him less than a second to trip of his cape and run to your side. This was it, the end of your pregnancy, labor, the day your baby would finally be in your arms. It was a very difficult day for you, she took all day to be born and finally when the moon was high in the sky she made her appearance. She was just perfect, and for a moment the world seemed so at peace.

“She looks like you“ you whisper to Zuko as you both gaze down and admire her

“Yeah but, she’s beautiful like you“ he whispered back, he truly felt something he’s never felt. It was happiness, excitement, protectiveness, and everything in between. He doesn’t remember the last time he was this happy, this was the best day right next to your wedding day.

Just as you expected he really was a wonderful father. During the first few weeks he wanted you only on bed rest. At night he would help care for Izumi and calm her when she needed it. He was actually the one who taught her to walk. When Aang and the rest of your friends met her, he was secretly super proud and cocky about it. They couldn’t get over how much she looked like him and just how cute she was.

He also liked to have her sleep in the same bed as you guys while she was still young. When he couldn’t sleep he would just gaze at her and talk to her, even though she couldn’t answer back.

“..and you could be anything you want to be, and you could rule the kingdom your way. If you’re like your mother I know you’ll be a kind and smart ruler. You probably can’t understand me right now but, I love you and your mother so much“ you felt your hear swell while you pretended to be asleep.

Although your favorite memory was him showing her how to bend when she first made a flame. She was around 6 when she first bended and he felt the flame of pride light in his chest. He showed her how to meditate and control it instead of training. He was always patient and gentle with her. It was very safe to say he was never the same as his father was with him.

Izumi and Zuko were nothing more than the center of your universe, the apples of your eye. And you knew it was the same for Zuko when he looked at you.

*******************************************************

I hope this was okay!❤️

#zuko x reader #avatar the last airbender #avatar the last airbender x reader #atla x reader #atla zuko #prince zuko #zuko #anime #anime x reader #fanfiction #atla fanfic #atla pregnant

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bbyannabeth · 3 years

Text

hello hello, i just posted this fic right now.

below the cut is an alternate ending to the fic because i hate writing angst and i needed some serotonin. but please read the fic before reading the alt. ending<3

Getting to the Underworld was a lot easier when she had a child of Hades as her friend. Nico shadow traveled with her to his father’s palace, leaving them right outside the doors. “Thank you,” she said, staring up at the doors.

“No problem. You sure you want me to leave, though?” he asked. Annabeth nodded.

“I’ll be fine,” she said. She had Mrs. O’Leary’s whistle in her pocket. Technically that was Percy’s possession, but the hellhound had always loved her too so she hoped it would still work.

“Okay,” Nico said quietly, somewhat awkward. “See you later, then.”

“Bye,” she replied, and then she was alone. Taking one heavy breath, Annabeth pushed through the doors of the palace. “Lord Hades!” she yelled, walking in.

He materialized in front of her. “What a nice surprise,” he said, his voice flat. “I love screaming children bursting into my home.”

“My apologies, my Lord. You know why I’m here, though.”

“I do,” Hades said. “But I can’t help you.”

He started to walk away but Annabeth followed. “Yes, you can!” she protested. “Percy saved the Gods, he saved you. He’s the only reason Camp Halfblood accepts Nico. He deserves a better life than what he got.”

“He… he made his choices,” he said, though he didn’t sound confident. It reminded her of what her mother said. Annabeth thought that was bullshit. He made his choices based on the circumstances. He would’ve never willingly chosen this life to begin with, none of them would.

“Do it to spite Zeus, then,” she tried. “This eternal feud with your brothers – this would piss them off pretty good!”

Hades stopped, like he was considering it. The silence grew longer and Annabeth was almost worried she’d crossed some line. But then he turned.

“Okay.”

She blinked. “Okay?” she asked.

Hades nodded. “You make good points. He saved us and he’s befriended Nico, I do appreciate those things,” he said. He grinned, a sight that sent shivers up her spine. His smile had an unintentional (or at least she hoped it was unintentional) evil to it that she didn’t like. “And it would be very satisfying to anger my brothers.”

Annabeth was stunned. This has been her entire goal but she was shocked it had actually worked. After what happened on Olympus, she had expected to walk out of there empty-handed.

“Th-thank you, Lord Hades,” she stuttered. “I can’t thank you enough. You have no idea how much this means to me.”

He nodded once before flicking his wrist. In a cloud of dark smoke, Percy appeared in the room with them. He was translucent but other than that, he looked just as he had before. Hades held up a hand to stop her from rushing forward. “You’ll walk right through him,” he said with a dark chuckle.

Percy stared at her, disoriented. Hades flicked his wrist again and Percy jolted, his body becoming solid again. Annabeth looked at Hades, who then rolled his eyes. “Go ahead.”

Annabeth launched forward, tackling Percy in a hug. He was still confused but his arms tightened around her. “Oh my Gods,” she mumbled. “I got you. You’re safe.”

“Annabeth?” he whispered, starting to regain his senses. She stepped back to cup his face.

“Yeah, Perce. It’s me. You’re safe.”

“I don’t,” he trailed off, blinking at Hades. “You brought me back?”

“Your girlfriend was very insistent,” he replied with a shrug. Annabeth almost laughed. Percy blinked again.

“Thank you, Lord Hades,” he stuttered. “Thank you so much.”

The God nodded. “If you die again, you’re on your own,” he said with a smile. Another twisted-looking one that made Annabeth shiver.

She hugged Percy close again and they heard Hades sigh. “Okay, you guys are gross,” he said. It almost sounded like he was… teasing them? Annabeth laughed quietly, her cheeks flushing as she stepped back.

“Thank you again, my Lord,” she said. “We’re indebted to you.”

“Considering it a favor,” he replied. “Now get out of here.”

His wrists flicked and Annabeth was suddenly enveloped in darkness. Her eyes fluttered open, and she and Percy were standing at the New York entrance to the Underworld. With a delirious laugh, she tackled him in another hug. One that sent them sprawling into the grass. “Oh my fucking Gods,” she said, pulling him as close as she could.

“Annabeth,” he murmured, digging his face into her neck. She pulled back enough to cup his face.

“I’m so sorry,” she whispered. “I’m so, so sorry.”

“You don’t have to be sorry,” he replied, staring up at her in awe. “You got me out, Beth.”

“I know,” she said. Her emotions started to creep back up her throat and suddenly she was crying again. “But still. You- you died. That-“

“Wasn’t your fault,” he said, cutting her off. “It’s okay. I’m okay.”

Annabeth pressed her forehead to his. “I couldn’t do this life without you. I didn’t want to.”

“I know,” he whispered. “I’m right here.”

Annabeth sniffled and nodded before standing up, pulling him with her. “We should go see your mom,” she said. Percy’s eyes widened and something in him broke.

“Yeah,” he agreed. They walked there and she told him everything that had happened the past week or so. Getting out of Tartarus, defeating Gaia, visiting Sally, and then storming Olympus. He listened silently, their hands locked between them. Part of her was afraid to let go, as though this were some dream and he’d vanish if she released him.

They were stepping into the elevator, going up to the fourth floor, when Percy let out a quiet breath. “Why am I nervous?” he whispered. “It’s my mom.”

“You haven’t seen her in months, Perce,” Annabeth replied gently. “It’ll be okay.”

“Did you visit her much while I was… gone?” he asked. Annabeth nodded.

“At least once a week before our quest,” she said, a small smile gracing her features. She and Sally had gotten extremely close over the course of Percy’s disappearance. “I even slept in your bed a few nights because I had accidentally ended up staying later than I meant.”

He laughed quietly and dropped her hand to wrap his arm around her shoulders, pulling her into a hug. “Thank you,” he whispered. “You probably helped her so much.”

“She helped me,” Annabeth replied. In those months, seeing Sally had kept Annabeth from slipping away entirely. Sally made sure she stayed fed and well. If it hadn’t been for her, Annabeth would’ve withered away.

“I love you.”

Annabeth smiled and as the doors opened, she quickly tilted her head up to kiss him softly. “I love you, too.”

She took his hand again and they walked through the halls. Stopping in front of the door, Annabeth looked up at him. He lifted his hand, paused for just a brief second, and then knocked on the door. Annabeth held his other hand tight as they waited.

The door opened and then Sally Jackson was in front of them. Her hair was in a loose bun and her eyes were red. She stared at Percy, who was crying again. Honestly, Annabeth felt a bit like crying herself. “Mom,” he whispered, his voice cracking.

In an instant, their arms were wrapped around each other. It was a little funny now that Percy was taller, but that didn’t stop Annabeth from tearing up.

“My baby,” Sally murmured. “I love you so much, oh Gods.”

Annabeth saw Percy’s shoulders shake with silent sobs. Sally’s eyes opened just for a second, but she caught sight of Annabeth and regained enough sense to pull away. “Come inside, let’s get out of the hall.”

They were ushered inside and Percy was being wrapped up in another tight hug. Annabeth excused herself quietly, trailing down to the bathroom to wipe her tears away. She was so overwhelmed with emotion and she wanted to give them a moment alone.

When she returned, they had seemingly just broken apart. Sally turned that warm, loving gaze on Annabeth now and swept her up a hug. “I’m so glad you’re safe,” she said, and Annabeth melted. And then, much quieter, Sally whispered, “Thank you.”

Annabeth nodded and hugged her tighter. She caught Percy’s eye over Sally’s shoulder and he smiled at her. His mother had always loved Annabeth, but it must’ve been interesting to see how much closer they had gotten over the last year. Sally pulled away and looked at both of them.

“Well,” she said, huffing out a disbelieving laugh as she wiped her tears. “We should order some pizza and talk. Paul will be home in about an hour.”

They sat in the living room, Annabeth tucked into Percy’s side and she told Sally about what happened on Olympus and in the Underworld. She looked impressed at Annabeth’s determination. “Well,” Sally said with a gentle laugh. “At least I know I can count on you to take care of him.”

Annabeth wanted to cry. She had always been the one who was supposed to take care of Percy, and yet she had let him die. Instead of crying, because Gods, was she tired of it, she lifted her eyes to Percy. He was already looking back at her.

“Yeah, someone has to,” she said softly. Percy kissed her head.

“I’m glad it’s you, then,” he whispered.

Just then, the door opened and Percy tensed. “Honey?” Paul called out and Sally smiled.

“In the living room.”

“Did you end up…” he trailed off when he entered the room and his eyes landed on Percy. His bag, filled with school papers and his laptop, fell to the ground. “P-Percy?”

In a flash, Percy was off the couch and pulled into another hug. He and Paul had always been decently close, with maybe a hint of natural awkwardness settled between them. After being gone for so long, though, any residual tension had disappeared and they both seemed perfectly comfortable in a hug.

When Paul finally pulled back, he looked at Percy, then Annabeth, then Sally. “I don’t… understand.”

Sally laughed gently. Her mood had improved greatly since they had gotten to the apartment, for obvious reasons. “Come sit,” she said.

Halfway through retelling the story, the pizza got there and Sally brought it into the living room for all of them to dig into. Afterward, Paul nodded slowly. “This was definitely an interesting family to marry into.”

Annabeth laughed quietly and leaned further into Percy. She only had the stomach capacity for a single slice of pizza right now, despite not eating nearly enough the past few months. In a moment of bravery, she tilted her head up to brush her lips against his ear. “Good thing I’m already used to how crazy this family can be.”

His eyes snapped to hers and she smiled slowly. She remembered what he’d said about New Rome, how demigods could grow up, get married and start families. She wanted that with him and she wanted to be sure he knew that. Judging by the way he kissed her, in full view of his parents, she was fairly confident that he knew.

They stayed there on the couches for a while, catching up. Conversation rarely ceased and Annabeth smiled more in those couple hours than she had in the last six months. It was only about 8:30 when Percy had yawned for the millionth time. “Tired?” she asked gently.

He nodded, leaning against. She looked at Sally. “This one is about to pass out on me,” Annabeth said, nudging Percy who hummed. “We’re gonna head to bed.”

“Okay,” Sally said before getting up with them and wrapping Percy in another hug. Annabeth heard her whisper, “I’m glad you’re home,” to Percy.

“Me too,” he replied before pulling back. Sally didn’t hesitate to hug Annabeth again.

“I love you guys,” she said when she released Annabeth.

“Love you,” Annabeth said softly, smiling. Percy echoed the same sentiment, taking her hand and leading her down the hall.

Once they were safely in his room, he quietly locked the door and turned to her. “You know, if this demigod stuff doesn’t work out for me, I could be an actor.”

Annabeth raised her eyebrows. “Why’s that?”

His hands slipped under her hoodie, finding her waist and he pulled her closer. “I’m not tired,” he murmured, brushing his lips against hers. “I just missed you.”

“While I was right next to you?”

“Mhm,” he hummed. “I missed kissing you. Thought I’d have to wait a long time to be able to do that again. And now I’m back, and we’ve barely gotten to do any kissing.”

Annabeth couldn’t help the way her lips twitched upwards. “You would’ve waited that long to kiss me again?” she asked softly.

“I’d wait a million lifetimes if it meant I got to kiss you again,” he replied, his voice devoid of teasing. Finally, he was done with talking and he leaned down to press his lips to hers. Annabeth’s arms snaked up around his neck and she pulled him closer. Walking her backward towards the bed, he muttered against her lips, “I love you so much.”

“I love you, too,” she replied.

Annabeth hadn’t realized how much she’d missed the simple act of kissing him until now. All she wanted to do was get wrapped up in his touch, which wasn’t wise with his parents being down the hall.

For once, however, she decided as she pulled him into the bed with her, wisdom could wait.

#percabeth #pjo #percy jackson and the olympians #percy jackson #annabeth chase #hoo #heroes of olympus #fic #gray writes

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cosmiclatte28 · 3 years

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I was wondering if you could have yuta comfort a fan during a panic attack? I really love cute nicknames too if you can add them in. If it doesn't apply to your rules I understand. I personally love kpop idols comforting fan scenarios

this is my first request after a long time, and I enjoy this :D

thank you for sending the request !!!

trigger warning : panic attack, strict and controlling family

@unadulteratedmusiciansrockalien thank you for sending this, hope you like this :D

nets @superm-net @multifandomnet

Another day of the life you never wished or dreamed of. The beep from the microwave brings you back to reality, you bend over to take a cup of hot water and drop in a bag of tea. While your hand plays with the tea bag, bouncing it up and down as you calm yourself by watching the brown color fusing into the water, your eyes catch the shadow of your most feared man.

“Good morning, dad.” you greet him and try to hide your face from him. This man who has raised you, is not your biological father. Your mother remarried a man who is so successful in his land and properties business. You detest him though because he forced you to earn a marketing degree when all you wanted to do was be a pediatrician. Words were exchanged back then and his words were unchangeable, he made you take a marketing degree and he’d been controlling your life until now.

“Ready to meet our biggest client? Lord Hyuck from the Lee family is planning to buy and invest money on our newest property area. They are going to make a factory for silicones and if their business is doing well, they might take over the neighboring land too.” he stirs his morning coffee with glint of hopes in his eyes.

Your body stiffens, why does he have to give the most important project to you? You will just mess it up and you won’t be able to convince him to buy the land. Even worse, what if the lee would never buy land or properties from your dad anymore? Will you be a disgrace?

You pause your bouncing activity and clear your throat “I’m sorry but why should you assign me on this big project?”

Your dad raises a brow “Well, of course because you are my daughter and I don’t trust the other employees. They might make a deal behind my back, adding some prices or make a secret deal that could backstab our company. I know, you won’t do that right?” he pulls his “family is who you can trust” card and your finger cannot stop drumming your cup. You’re nervous! Despite being the daughter of the chairman, you’ve always taken the smaller projects because you cannot deal with the nerves of sitting and bargaining to big people.

“I don’t know if I can, dad. Can’t you send Mr Seo instead? He’s your loyal senior marketing agent.” you sip on your cup, your dad not noticing the tremble in your hand.

He shakes his head “I want to give you a big project now and I know you won’t mess it up for me. Right (y/n)? Show me that you are worthy and show me what you’ve learned from the most prestigious school here! Now chop chop, Yuta will be responsible to drive you there at eleven.” with a pat on the back, he leaves you there.

“You got this,” a co-worker who accidentally heard your talk reassures you.

“Thank you Taeyong, I hope so. Well, let me just prepare myself then.” you giggle nervously, stomach already churning and ready to just run to the closest restroom and throw your breakfast out.

You’re super nervous. Meeting new people is not your comfort zone, talking to new people makes you sweat and you are tired of being controlled.

---

“Big project ahead, but I know you will be okay.” your loyal caretaker and personal driver whispers when he opens the door to help you inside and takes over your stuffs.

You sigh “Yuta, you’re only making me feel more nervous.”

He ruffles your hair and gives your shoulder a gentle squeeze “No worries my little angel, I will be here. Do you feel suffocated in this car?” you flash a small smile and take a deep breath. “Yes/ I don’t feel like sitting in a closed room, Yuta do we have another option?”

Yuta smirks and steps out of the driver seat, “Well, yes of course I have, my lady. Please step out and we will be on the road soon.”

You wait for him in the lobby, your head keeps on repeating the breathing exercise Yuta taught you.

He returns with a pair of helmet and a motorcycle on his side. Yuta calmly puts it over your head and you keep fidgeting with your fingers.

Breathing still feels hard, you know you’re almost having a panic attack but you keep hypnotizing yourself that “I am experiencing a panic attack. It feels scary but it will not cause physical harm.”

The loyal man takes your hands and gives it a gentle squeeze. “Breathe with me darling, slowly but deep.” he coaxes you in with his deep soothing voice.

When he sees no objection from you, Yuta pulls you closer into his embrace and runs a hand on your back. “This feels awful sweetie, I know. but it’s not going to hurt you”

You close your eyes and limp yourself into his hug, “Breathe, breathe.. I am okay, I can breathe. There is nothing stopping me from breathing.” you chant to yourself and Yuta just keeps stroking your back. Calming you down with all his warmth, lovely touches, and white noises in your ear. His warm hand makes his way to your neck, he touches you there and just keeps your body standing. You melt deeper into his body, really loving how he can sooth your panic attack.

He hums soft tunes into your ear, he breathes calmly by your side so you can follow him and he keeps praising you for being a good girl in calming yourself down.

“Yoshi-yoshi, there my good girl. Breathe with me okay, you’re doing so great.” he giggles when he feels you tense a little from his japanese words.

When you calm down and stop shaking, Yuta cups your face and stares into your eyes with his soft amber ones.

“I am always here for you okay my sweetheart. I won’t leave you ever.” his thumb caresses your cheek and you blush.

“Thank you Yuta. I think I’m ready to go.” You play with your hair. He presses a quick kiss on your forehead and one more on your cheek. “Good girl.”

He takes a seat on the motorcycle and you jump behind him. Yuta smiles when he sees your face less pale. “Keep breathing my dear, I know you can do that. Hold on tight,” he grabs your hand and hugs it over his waist. “Do what’s comfortable darling. You are safe here with me.” he winks and soon after takes off to the busy street.

You close your eyes and press your cheek to his back, your arms still hugging Yuta tightly from the back. His musky cologne calms your nerves down and hearing Yuta’s heartbeat also makes you feel safe.

Both of you make it to the meeting place. You step down from the vehicle and Yuta helps you take off the helmet. He runs his finger slowly to fix your hair and when you want to open your mouth asking if you look good he already beats you into it. “You look stunning. Now, I know you will do amazing. Mr. Lee is kind, don’t be scared. I will be on the table next to yours, if you need anything I will always be there.” Yuta plants a quick kiss again on your cheek and touches them slowly. You lean your cheek into his palm and take his other free hand, lace it with yours and squeeze it “Thank you Yuta! I love you.” you blush as you plant a quick kiss on his lips and then run away to step into the café before your client comes.

Yuta still stands next to his motorcycle, eyes wide open, cheeks red. He shakes his head to regain his composure and smirks “That little angel, she woke up the devil inside me.”

end

#yuta x reader #yuta x you #yuta x y/n #yuta imagine #yuta comfort #yuta soft hours #yuta scenarios #nakamoto yuta #yuta angst #yuta fanfic #nakamoto yuta fluff #yuta fluff #nct fluff #nct comfort #supermnet #multifandomnet #hotpinklists

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hxneekyuu · 3 years

Text

falling in love || a playlist

>> because falling and realizing he’s fallen are two very different things.

genres : haikyuu x f!reader, fluff, angst, slightly suggestive

a/n : i got this idea after seeing the n/sfw version called “songs they would fuck you to” or something??? i literally cant find the post anymore so pls someone tag me or send me an ask if you know what im talking about so i can give that writer credit for their post -- just wanted to do a kind of slice of life version of that idea!! idk why but this really took me 2 weeks to finish for absolutely no reason, so i hope you like it!!

daichi -- you got something x rochelle

you got a something, making me weak // you got a something, i’m on my knees

“what are the odds daichi’s girlfriend is completely made up, and he just doesn’t want to tell us?” asahi laughs at suga’s comment, but daichi only picks up a handful of sand and chucks it at them, a scowl set deep on his features. he had told you a few days ago that he and the guys were going to be spending their saturday at the beach, the first nice day in a while -- he had been trying to tell you that he wanted you to finally meet his friends, and you had seemed really excited at the prospect. but you’re late, and while daichi knows his friends are just teasing, he can’t help but feel anxious.

“are you sure she’s coming?” asahi doesn’t mean it as a quip -- he genuinely is asking because he can tell this is important. but daichi isn’t listening. he’s staring down the stretch of beach at the person that’s stumbling in the sand, trying to cross the distance to him almost frantically. you look stressed, and he knows you’re probably freaking out about how late you are, but when you look up and finally make eye contact, the smile you give him is so bright and genuine that he feels like he’s the only one there.

“i’m sure.”

suga -- freakin’ out on the interstate x briston maroney

you got a lot on your mind // and your heart, it looks just like mine

he’s not sure when he falls asleep, but when he comes to, he knows the ink from his homework has probably copy-pasted itself onto his right cheek. it’s been week after week of deadlines and assignments, the stress of third year finally catching up to him. an unplanned nap was bound to happen at some point with the way he was staying up later and later each night, barely getting 4 hours if he was lucky. he’s ready to lift his head and get back to work, but when he opens his eyes, all he sees is you. you’re sitting next to him, headphones in as you work on your own assignments, completely unaware that he’s awake. as he studies you closely, feeling calm for the first time in weeks, he decides that maybe another few minutes won’t kill him.

asahi -- apocalypse x cigarettes after sex

when you’re all alone, i will reach for you // when you’re feeling low, i will be there too

he’d had a hard practice -- he’d messed up so many serves and missed enough spikes to make him feel like going home and forgetting this whole day had happened. he can’t meet anyone’s eyes because he knows they know how he’s feeling, and that’s just embarrassing. he even waits until everyone’s left the club room for the night, having told daichi and suga to go ahead of him, that he’d walk home alone. sitting in the club room all alone, he can’t help but sigh in frustration.

finally pulling himself to his feet, he grabs his bag and heads for the door, locking it behind him once he’s outside. turning toward the door, he almost yells when he sees you standing there, staring down at your shoes as you wait. when you had become karasuno’s manager, you’d made a point to tell them that they could rely on you for anything, but he really hadn’t thought you’d meant this. looking up and meeting his eyes with a smile, you gesture toward the stairs and don’t say a word about practice. he won’t realize for a long time just how much he appreciates you in this moment.

“come on, slowpoke, i’ve been waiting to walk home with you.”

kageyama -- the less i know the better x tame impala

then i heard they slept together // oh, the less i know the better

“you need to tell her before i tell her for you.” it’s an empty threat, but he aims a punch at the side of hinata’s head for good measure. they’re standing at the door to his classroom, pretending to be busy talking about something so he can have an excuse to look at you. you’re standing in the hall not too far away, laughing about something with your friends, and it takes all of his self-restraint not to confess right then and there. you don’t even know who he is, and he’s just about ready to risk public humiliation for you. he doesn’t know what’s happened to him in the weeks since he’d first laid eyes on you, but he’s not sure how much longer he can deal with this torture.

“dude, she is right there. seriously, you need to just tell her. so what if she says no and you’re embarrassed for a few days? at least you’ll be getting it over with. there’s nothing that could be worse than that -- oh.” almost as if the universe is playing some kind of cruel game, both kageyama and hinata watch as the door to the next classroom slides open, making way for a certain 6’2” blond middle blocker to step into the hall and call out to you. when you smile and wrap your arms around his waist, silently asking him to bend down so you can plant a small kiss on his cheek, kageyama grits his teeth and looks away, locking eyes with a flustered hinata.

“that. that’s worse.”

hinata -- i’m so tired… x lauv, troye sivan

hurts like heaven, lost in the sound // Buzzcut Season, like you’re still around // can’t unmiss you, but i need you now

he can feel you next to him, curled up into his chest, your breathing even. he can feel your loving gaze on the side of his face as he helps you cook dinner and even more so when you two are on the couch watching netflix -- you’d always had a habit of watching him more than the show. he can feel your skin on his in the shower as you drag your nails through his hair, scrubbing the shampoo through his locks and laughing when he starts to splutter under the rush of hot water. he can feel your lips on his, your embrace warm and safe after a bad day. he can feel it all like it’s still happening.

but when he opens his eyes, nothing is there to greet him but the empty spot in his bed to match the equally empty apartment. you’re still abroad, just as you have been for months now. and no matter how many good morning texts and late night facetime calls he has to look forward to, it doesn’t change the fact that you’re still not here with him. you’re still gone. and he’s starting to realize he can’t feel much of anything anymore.

nishinoya -- ego x milky chance

and i guess that she’s the strongest // that i’ve ever seen yet, ever seen yet

“come quick, yuu! there’s a girl outside standing up to those bullies in the year above us!” nishinoya rushes to the window, taking his place among his classmates as they all watch you, standing your ground out in front of the school. you’re hovering over a boy who’s been pushed to the ground, his hand and knee already bleeding lightly. your arms are crossed, eyes squinted in determination as you stare down two boys that are older and much bigger than you. he finds his chest tightening with worry -- how can a ten-year-old girl take down two bullies? why isn’t anyone helping? shouldn’t someone get a teach--

“well come on, then, you jerks! i thought you guys were supposed to be scary, but you look like a couple of wimps to me, picking on someone smaller than you!” his classmates start snickering, the bullies noticing that they’ve got an audience, but nishinoya’s breath has caught in his throat, and all he can see is you and that look in your eye -- he needs to know you.

tanaka -- perfect places x lorde

all the nights spent off our faces // trying to find these perfect places // what the fuck are perfect places anyway?

he pushes the nameless girl up against the wall, lips finding hers in a rush of alcohol and adrenaline. he doesn’t care about her, and he knows damn well that she doesn’t care about him either. you don’t go to a frat party looking for love. that’s why, when he pulls away and opens his eyes to look at her, the guilt he feels isn’t for her or that fact that she’d likely be going home alone tonight. it’s for you, completely unaware of his feelings or his fantasies. because it’s not her face staring back at him. it’s yours.

ennoshita -- cigarette daydreams x cage the elephant

so sweet, with a mean streak // nearly brought me to my knees

“dude, seriously! we’ve come to this coffee shop every day for like the last two weeks -- the chocolate croissants cannot be that good!” he shushes tanaka angrily, shoving him through the door and to the far end of the room, forcing him into the booth by the window and dropping his bag on the other side. he tells himself, and anyone that asks to be honest, that he needs to focus because finals are coming up. he tells himself that the ambiance at this cafe is calming, that he can always get work done here without a problem. he tells himself this as if he doesn’t have a mountain of work that most definitely has not been getting done in the last two weeks, the deadlines piling up to the point where he’s sure he’s going to be suffering very soon. but none of that matters -- ‘none of it matters’, he tells himself as he approaches the counter, meeting your playful eyes with a nervous smile.

“ennoshita-san, you’re back! should i get you the usual?”

tsukishima -- know your worth x khalid, disclosure

find someone you know will put you first // find someone who loves you at your worst

he’s at your door not even ten minutes after you’d texted him. it had been easy enough to get past the security guard in front of your dorm -- he’s spent more nights here than at his own dorm, which he’s sure his party animal roommate is thankful for. but tonight, tsukishima’s not here to avoid a 2am rager, the “he left me for her” text settling like poison in his veins the longer he thinks about it. he’s angry -- beyond angry -- but he knows to store it away for later. later, he can find that piece of shit and release the worst of tsukishima kei’s sharp tongue. right now, he can hear you crying on the other side of the wall, and it’s all he can do not to bust the door down.

as he’s bringing his hand up to knock, the tissue box and pack of oreos shifting in the bag around his wrist, the door swings open, revealing your roommate. she barely spares him a glance as she shuffles past him into the hall, patting his shoulder as she goes.

“she’s all yours, tsukki.”

yamaguchi -- are you bored yet x wallows (feat. clairo)

’cause we could stay at home and watch the sunset // but i can’t help from asking “are you bored yet?”

it’s just past 5pm, the soft glow of the afternoon really tempting his inner desire to take a nap, but there’s something eating away at him. when he looks down at you, head in his lap as you read a manga, the part of his heart that used to be filled with nothing but love feels now like it’s being drowned in doubt. is he still enough for you? are you getting tired of having him in your life? should he change to match your idea of the perfect boyfriend?

“hey.” he’s snapped out of his thoughts, eyes focusing in on your face and realizing that you’re peeking over the top of your manga to look at him. he tilts his head to one side, the ghost of a smile forming on his face when you mimic his movement playfully. you pull down the manga just a little bit more, revealing the rest of your face, and reach for the hand he has tangled in your hair. bringing it down to your lips, and that ghost of a smile becomes a full, genuine one when you whisper a kiss into his knuckles.

“i love you.”

kuroo -- one dance x drake

strength and guidance // all that i’m wishing for my friends

you’re throwing back another shot, setting the glass down on his coffee table when you’re done. he knows you’ve had a bad week at work, if the “i’m coming over, let’s drink” text had been anything to go by. this is the way you two had bonded in college, meeting up whenever one of you was having a bad time and drinking until your livers would cry. of course, you would follow it up with healthier coping mechanisms the next day, often spending all day together talking things through properly and eating greasy food for the hangovers.

it had been years since you’d started this little tradition, but as you turn up the volume on his speaker and sway to the music by yourself in the middle of his living room, he starts to imagine that maybe this could turn into something more.

kenma -- sunflower x post malone, swae lee

you’re the sunflower // i think your love would be too much

he’s not sure how he’d actually managed to convince you to pretend to be with him. it hadn’t even taken that long -- he’d barely let out that he was starting to feel overwhelmed with the amount of viewers that would hit on him during his streams when you were agreeing to his idea. as he sits in front of his computer, explaining in a low voice that the roommate he’d talked about before was actually his girlfriend, he wonders how the hell you could possibly be okay with this. but more than that, when you “interrupt” and walk into the room with a glass of water for him as an excuse to place your lips gingerly on his, the chat going absolutely crazy at the display, he wonders why it can’t be real.

lev -- death is in the air x sakima

is my heart breaking // or do i have one at all

he’s sitting across from you in a diner that’s otherwise empty, watching you stir the coffee in front of you. he knows you will never bring the cup to your lips in the span of this conversation -- it’s just a nervous habit, a need to keep your hands busy while you talk. he can hear your words, but they sound muffled, as if he’s underwater. this entire moment feels like it’s happening to someone else, but when he pinches the inside of his thigh, you’re still there, telling him what he never thought he’d hear. that things aren’t working out between you -- that you’re tired of him being a player and coming close enough to cheating that it almost hurts more than if he would just do it already. he hears all the ways he’s been the kind of person he’d always hated, but he doesn’t say a word. he hasn’t said a word since he sat down, not even five minutes prior. is five minutes really all you need to end things?

he doesn’t move, not even when he hears the bell above the door ring, your footsteps fading as the door closes behind you.

yaku -- sucker x jonas brothers

i’m a sucker for all the subliminal things // no one knows about you (about you), about you (about you)

it’s 3:37am on a tuesday night -- or is it wednesday? -- and he should be in bed or at least in the comfort of his own home. but he’s not. he’s not home, and he knows he’s really pushing his luck because his father wakes up for work every day at 4am, but he just can’t bring himself to be responsible. he knows he’s going to be so screwed when his 6:30 alarm goes off, but at this rate he thinks he might be watching the sun rise with you. you’re in the exact same situation, so who is he to cut the night short if you haven’t yet? even if you do look as exhausted as he feels, there’s a happiness on your face that he feels partially responsible for, and he’s not ready to give that up yet.

so he lets himself be dragged around the empty streets of tokyo, feeling like nothing else matters but this moment with you, at 3:37am on a tuesday night.

oikawa -- pristine x mantaraybryn

and that all this time i was trying to be // james dean, pristine, suntanned, underwater // living an american dream

glass shatters against the far wall, and he’s not quite sure when he’d picked up the bowl from the coffee table. he’s alone in the main room of the apartment, almost vibrating with rage. there are tears falling from his eyes, but he’s not sure when that happened either. all he can think about is the humiliation he’d felt, the bitter pain that had filled him when his father had expressed his disappointment at the way his son’s life had turned out.

“... should have stayed in Japan… real job....” oikawa stares at the shelf above the TV, lined with every award he’d spent his entire life earning. before he can think properly about it, he’s across the room, swinging his arm toward the shelf, ready to destroy everything he’d ever worked for --

“tooru?” spinning around to face you, panic fills his teary eyes as he realizes he really wasn’t alone in the apartment this whole time. you’d been there, probably just doing work in your own room with your headphones in. the sound of the bowl breaking against the wall had probably caught your attention, and now he feels bad for ruining the space you two share. but you’re not looking at the mess. you’re only looking at him, concern lacing your eyes, and for the first time in a long time, he feels safe.

iwaizumi -- eastside x benny blanco (with halsey & khalid)

we can do anything if we put our minds to it // take your whole life, then you put a line through it

“what are you doing here?” he says it without looking back, having heard you scaling the side of his house as soon as you’d gotten there. when you settle down next to him, legs hanging off the roof, he reaches over and takes your hand in his, a sense of calm falling over him for the first time all day. he feels you scoot closer, leaning your head on his shoulder as he wraps an arm around you and presses a kiss to your temple. you two sit on top of his house like this, staring out at the city together just as you’d been doing since you were kids and needed to escape, even if just for a few minutes.

“your mom called me -- said she hadn’t seen you in hours. i told her i’d take care of it.” he smiles to himself. he should have known you’d find him. you always do.

matsukawa -- you get me so high x the neighbourhood

we should stick together // you’re my best friend, i’ll love you forever

he can see you across the party, looking annoyed and a little impatient as a guy steps into your path, trying to chat you up. whatever’s on your mind has you peering around the frat boy, and you wave him off without a second glance as you search for something -- or someone. he’s persistent, though, and matsukawa has half a mind to save you, knowing that having a best friend with a frame as large as his has gotten you out of trouble with guys before. but before he can pass his drink off to makki, your eyes are locking onto his own, and it feels like the world has stopped. you’ve never smiled at him like that before.

hanamaki -- on melancholy hill x gorillaz

’cause you are my medicine // when you’re close to me

“you know, hanamaki, you visit my office hours every week, but it never really feels like you need help.” he pulls his eyes away from the whiteboard littered with your handwriting, meeting your eyes just long enough to feel exposed. you’re giving him a sweet smile, but the look in your eye is anything but innocent. you see right through him, he knows that much, but he’s never going to admit that he knowingly ditches party plans with his roommates every friday just so he can see you for an hour. he’d never tell you that -- just like he’d never tell you that he knows you’re pretending to be worried about his progress just like he is, that he knows you can see how good his are grades, too. instead of mentioning any of that, he shoots you a quick smirk, cocking his head to the side in mock-confusion.

“i’m not sure i know what you’re getting at, y/n.”

kyoutani -- chill x rayana jay

baby, can i be real? can i be real with you? // it means the world to me, i just wanna chill with you

rounding the corner of the aisle, he doesn’t even realize he’s bumped into someone until there are groceries rolling around at his feet and you’re apologizing softly. the glare that settles on his face is one of pure habit, an expression that had become his only one over the course of his life. he’s guarded by nature, and he knows it pushes people away, but that’s how he prefers things. so when you glance up from where you’re crouched, putting your items back into your basket, he’s shocked that you aren’t matching his glare or even that you don’t seem the slightest bit intimidated. you’re just asking him to hand you something by his feet.

realizing that you’ve dropped quite a bit of stuff because of him, he bends down, grabbing items before they roll away and handing them to you without a word. he then realizes that he’s made you spill your drink on your shirt, something you only notice when you catch him staring at the stain. when he sees the smirk on your face, his guarded glare makes a comeback, but you still don’t seem to notice it.

“are you going to tell me your name, or are you just going to keep staring at my chest?” well this is certainly new.

kunimi -- sweater weather x the neighbourhood

just us, you find out // nothing that i wouldn’t want to tell you about

“so you met this girl on twitter? what if she’s like some 40 year old dude?” he rolls his eyes at kindaichi’s comment, pulling up your account and showing him the selfies you’d posted not too long ago. his best friend nods appreciatively before shrugging. “i don’t know, man, those could be fake.” understanding kindaichi’s concern but unable to stop the annoyance that flares up in him, he shoves his phone back into his pocket and starts to walk away.

“whatever, dude, what’s the harm in making a friend?” there’s a scoff from behind him at the word ‘friend’, but he ignores it, just like he ignores the blush rising on his cheeks.

“i’m just saying, you’ve never exactly been one to put yourself out there and make friends, so why her?” he shrugs, deciding that even starting this conversation with kindaichi had been a huge mistake and that he just wants it to be over. he’s well aware that it’s not the best idea to get close to someone he hasn’t physically met and that kindaichi’s just looking out for him, but he feels oddly protective of you and doesn’t like where the conversation is headed.

besides, his attention is no longer on what’s happening around him. he can feel his phone buzzing in his pocket, and he just knows it’s you.

kindaichi -- that’s just how it goes x role model

you’ll sleep with friends of mine // i’ll sleep with people i don’t like

he waves at you when you enter the gym, remembering that you’d promised to come watch him practice. they haven’t quite started yet, so he jogs over to you to ask how your day was. he knows why you’re really here. he can see the way you try to glance around him without being obvious about it, but he knows exactly who you’re here for. it’s so obvious it almost feels like a joke. because when kunimi wanders over to say hi, he can see the way you look at him, your ears tinted red as you smile nervously. he can see it, and he hates it, so he looks away. he always looks away. that’s why he never sees the moment when you turn your loving gaze to him or the way kunimi smiles knowingly, shaking his head at the fact that kindaichi can be so oblivious sometimes.

bokuto -- magic in the hamptons x social house, lil yachty

you know where i go when we’re dancing // handshakes in the hamptons and getting drunk in the mansions with you

“akaashi... who is that?” he’s standing in one of the aisles of the library, eyes locked on the table where akaashi can usually be found studying. he’d come to this spot specifically to find his best friend, ready to drag the younger boy off to lunch, but he’d found you instead. he’s not exactly sure how long he’s been standing there, probably in everyone’s way, but eventually akaashi does pass the aisle on his way to check out a book, stopping short at the sight of a familiar large frame.

at akaashi’s noise of confusion from his question, bokuto does nothing more than repeat himself, swallowing hard as he watches you study. glancing past bokuto to see what he’s looking at, akaashi finally spots you, lifting his gaze and smiling almost evilly when he sees the telltale expression of awe on bokuto’s face.

“that’s y/n, bokuto-san. she’s a good friend of mine -- should i introduce you?”

akaashi -- fuck, i’m lonely x lauv, anne-marie

and all my friends are way too drunk to save me from my phone // so sorry if I say some things I mean

when akaashi steps out of the convenience store, well past midnight, the last person he’s expecting to see is you, sitting at one of the little tables outside. there’s a bottle of sake and a small disposable cup in front of you, but you’ve got your head on the table, looking out at nothing in particular. he checks his phone quickly and realizes that he does, in fact, have two texts from bokuto, the first letting him know that the two of you had gotten into a disagreement of sorts and you’d stormed out of the house to clear your head. the second is a request, friend to friend, that akaashi find her because, as annoyed he is with her, bokuto knows that his baby sister trusts akaashi more than anyone else in the world and he wants her to come home safely.

he sets his bag on the table and sits down across from you, letting you know that someone’s there. when you lift your head and see that it’s him, you give him a smile so warm that his breath catches in his throat and he has to find something to distract himself. picking the bottle of sake up from the table, he judges that you’re probably pretty tipsy, as it’s almost empty. he knows you’re pretty tipsy when you hum quietly and grab for his hand, whispering to him words that he figures you wouldn’t say if you were sober.

“I missed you, ‘kaashi.”

ushijima -- loving someone x the 1975

and i think i should be… // … loving someone

“i do not know how to tell her that she is overbearing. she even becomes angry when i try to explain that my career will not allow me the amount of time she demands of me.” he can hear you humming sleepily on the other side of the phone, and he wonders momentarily if he should have checked to see if you were sleeping before calling, but you’d told him long ago that you’d always pick up. he supposes 1am is never a good time to call, but he’s always had trouble talking to anyone who isn’t you. no one else has ever put in the effort to understand what he’s saying and especially what he isn’t saying. no one else has ever tried. not even his own girlfriend.

tendou -- blueberry faygo x lil mosey

one bad bitch, and she do what i say so

when his phone dings quietly from where he’s left it in the passenger’s seat of his car, tendou knows you’re almost ready. he rounds the corner onto your street and kills the headlights, rolling up to the front of your house as carefully as possible. he can see your parents sitting in the main room, the sofa positioned so that their backs are to the window, the TV glaring brightly in front of them. it’s a lucky setup for a certain redhead, as it’s granted him several opportunities over the years, both to sneak in and for you to sneak out. the latter is what he’s currently witnessing.

he watches as you slip out of your window and almost roll right off the roof, but you catch yourself and maneuver very carefully to the edge of the roof. he can’t help but grab his phone to film you as your legs hang precariously off the edge, your body wiggling cutely as you try not to make noise. at some point you’re dangling in the air right in front of the window, but you drop to the ground before either of your parents can notice, and then you’re bolting down the driveway to tendou’s car in uncontained excitement.

he watches the whole ordeal with nothing but love in his eyes, knowing there’s no one else in the world that would risk the true wrath of their parents for a 2am mcdonald’s run with him.

semi -- dangerous x big data (feat. joywave)

you understand, i got a plan for us // i bet you didn’t know that i was dangerous

he thinks he recognizes you, but he can’t quite place your familiarity. it’s a standard interview, one that the band has had scheduled for weeks now. when they get there, you’re already seated in the interviewer’s chair, a camera set up just behind you. you greet them kindly, smiling and bowing to each of the members. when you get to him, however, he has to ask.

“sorry if this comes off as a little weird, but… do we know each other?” your kind smile morphs into a smirk, so he knows he’s right. the response you give has the rest of the band howling with laughter, but he’s too busy noticing how stunning you look in that moment, your eyes dancing with mirth as you tilt your head to the side to look at him.

“you mean you don’t remember rejecting me in high school?”

goshiki -- adore you x harry styles

i’d walk through fire for you // just let me adore you

“...so what i’m trying to say, tsutomu… is that i like you. a lot…” he can hear the words leaving your mouth, but all he can see is you -- the way you refuse to meet his eyes, the deep red that’s filling your cheeks the longer you go on. he barely registers that this is a confession because all his mind can focus on is the fact that it’s taken this long for him to realize his own feelings. almost 2 years of inviting you to his games, begging your teachers to make you two seatmates at the beginning of each term, asking you to wait for him to finish practice so he could walk you home -- it had all been some selfish attempt to make you his, and he didn’t even realize it until you were trying to make him yours, too. he doesn’t let you finish your rambling confession, unable to stop himself from speaking.

“what are you doing this weekend?”

shirabu -- toothbrush x dnce

baby, you don’t have to rush // you can leave a toothbrush at my place, at my place

when the two of you had started dating, you’d both agreed that keeping things private for a little while would be best -- the shiratorizawa VBC is a lot of things, but subtle is not one of them. he’d been well aware that if anyone were to find out, he would suffer endless teasing and constant questions, and since you’re friends with all the boys, you would not be spared the torture. but “a little while” had become months, and he’s starting to feel like he’s made a mistake trying to keep you a secret. when you visit the team’s practice, he feels trapped, like he’s not even free to look at you or give you the soft smile he knows you love. he just has to sit there, blending in with the rest of the boys as they greet you, as a few of them even flirt with you. they have no idea that you’re his, and he’s really starting to hate it.

terushima -- blinding lights x the weekend

i’m drowning in the night // when i’m like this, you’re the one i trust

“yuuji, you shouldn’t be calling me…” he’s drunk -- more than drunk, really. if he’d been any less intoxicated than he currently is in this exact moment, he never would have looked for your name in his contacts. he knows you’re trying to have a clean break, that after years of back and forth and mistakes that were masked as late nights and one too many drinks, you had finally had enough. he’s trying to respect your decision because he wants nothing more than to give you everything you want. but there must be some piece of him that’s hoping you’re willing to make just one more mistake. one more mistake with you is all he needs, and then he’ll let you go.

atsumu -- love$ick x mura masa (feat. a$ap rocky)

i need you // i’m a lovesick fuck // i want you // i’m a lovesick fuck

“rin, you left this at my place last night -- my mom filled it with leftovers in case you didn’t have lunch for today.” watching as you place suna’s lunch sack beside him and nod at his quiet mumble of gratitude, atsumu considers it both a blessing and a curse that the universe made you suna’s best friend. but today he feels especially cursed, since he’s now finding himself choking half to death on his lunch when suna lets out a quick --

“by the way, this piss head’s been crushing on you for weeks -- can you please go on a date with him so i can get some peace and quiet during lunch?” snatching osamu’s water bottle right as his brother’s raising it to his own lips, atsumu quiets his lungs and glances up at you, beet red, just as you’re turning to walk away, a smirk forming on your lips.

“i’ll think about it.”

osamu -- paradise x bazzi

don’t know if it’s the drink i poured // but i swear i’ve never loved you more

“stop touchin’ my rice! it’s for the fuckin’ onigiri!” if any of his customers could see the way he’s acting right now, he’d definitely be out of business. he’s known for providing quality service with charm to match, but right now he’s acting like nothing short of… well, his brother. you’d stopped by just as the shop was closing, part of your friday night routine that consisted of nothing but your favorite miya twin and a heinous amount of food for two people. atsumu always complains that you’d shown osamu favoritism since high school, something that osamu was always secretly happy about. even now, as you stand in the kitchen of his restaurant asking him to show you how to make onigiri and then proceeding to wreak absolute havoc on his poor ingredients, he’s pleased that you’d always chosen him over anyone else. he does need you to stop touching his inventory, though.

“but what’s the difference between this rice and this ri-- okay, okay, i’m sorry!” you run around the island in the middle of the room, narrowly avoiding him as he swipes at you and yells for you to get out of his shop. he can tell you’re about to do something else to rile him up, so he tries to reach for you again but ends up tripping over his own foot and falling to the ground, taking you down with him. he only realizes just how close you are when you’re whispering his name, your breath fanning over his lips.

‘oh... shit’

suna -- notice me x role model (feat. benee)

let’s dance when we’re not supposed to be // can’t stand when you’re not close to me // damn, can’t believe you notice me, notice me

caging you against his bedroom wall with his arms, he presses his lips to your neck, leaving a trail of open-mouthed kisses down to your collarbone. he can feel your pulse jumping in your throat, and he feels a kind of guilty pride that he’s the one that makes you feel this way. when you grasp at his shirt almost desperately and pull him flush against you, he wants to forget about the fact that this means nothing to you. he wants to forget about the way you sneak out of his room when you think he’s asleep, as if he could ever sleep peacefully knowing you’re so close. he wants to forget about how stupid he’d been, losing his courage and asking you to just be fuck buddies instead of what he really wants.

sakusa -- 505 x arctic monkeys

but i crumble completely when you cry // it seems like once again you’ve had to greet me with “goodbye”

as you storm toward the front door, his hand wraps firmly around your wrist, pulling you back to him. when you whip around to look at him, your eyes, burning with anger and wet with tears, have his heart breaking clean in half, but he doesn’t let go.

“i’m not letting you leave. you’re the one who said leaving wouldn’t fix anything. we have to fix this.” the look you give him is resigned, almost as if you think there’s no point in fixing what had slowly been breaking between you. if you had been anyone else -- if he could live without you -- he would have let you go a long time ago. but you’re not someone else, you’re you. and he’s not ready to live without you, so he doesn’t let go. he can’t let go.

aone -- firebird x milky chance

you’re like a firebird in the sky // shining for a challenger in the night

there’s a hand wrapping around his bicep as he stands in front of the chinese food takeout place on his street, waiting for futakuchi to finish ordering for them. when he looks down, you’re looking right back up at him, a complete stranger.

“babe, i thought you said you’d meet me at the corner!” he blinks inquisitively, tilting his head to the side, but he can see that there’s thinly veiled panic in your eyes. glancing quickly over your shoulder, he catches sight of two guys not too far away, watching closely. acting on the only conclusion that makes sense to him in that moment, he removes his arm from your grasp, but just as that panic in your eyes starts to grow, he’s wrapping it around you, pulling you into his chest comfortably.

“i’m sorry, i must have forgotten.” he wants to cringe at his own stiff language, hoping he doesn’t blow your cover and make things worse, but you’re relaxing into him as the guys finally decide you aren’t worth the trouble. once they’re gone, he drops his arm but keeps you close just in case. he wants to offer to walk you home, but he doesn’t like the idea that those guys are still wandering the streets and could find out where you live if they spot you again any time soon. you start to apologize for catching him so off guard, but his voice, firm yet polite, stops you.

“do you like chinese food?”

futakuchi -- 7 rings x ariana grande

happiness is the same price as red-bottoms

he doesn’t see you at first, the lighting in the room so dark that he can barely see his drink in his own hand. the club is beyond crowded, and the sweat that starting to roll down his spine is making him really uncomfortable. he pulls out his phone to text you, but then he remembers that he’d upset you earlier -- a remark that had come out automatically, his quick, unfiltered comments a product of his sharp tongue -- and you had cancelled your plans with him and told him you would text him in a few days. he has no right to be upset, he knows he shouldn’t have been rude to you. but then he spots a dress not too far away -- a dress he very clearly remembers paying for.

you’re hanging off of some other guy, and it looks like you two know each other because you aren’t tense around him like you were when you’d first met him all those years ago. you’re not his, he has to remind himself. this arrangement had been built on nothing but sex and money, as all things tend to be. you keep him company, and he gives you anything you could ever want -- the perfect sugar daddy.

then why is he so goddamn irritated?

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assassins-and-hidden-blades · 3 years

Text

Miracles -- Part 3

07/04/2021: Here it is!! The one, the only, the... 6.1k words of purely self indulgent protective!Jacob (lowkey been doing it for everyone and their mother except for when with the reader and idk why bc i dig that shit too)

I really hope you guys enjoy this, because I loved writing it!! There's a chance I could sneak in a last chapter if people wanted that? Feedback would be greatly appreciated!! This is super long, so sit down and get comfy :)

Pry these commas from my cold, dead hands tho. Also, I HC Jacob to be predominantly left-handed, but that's just me aha.

Warnings: Bit of violence, swearing, corporal punishment, arson (without giving too much away)

Tagging: @marshmallow--3 // @missingfrye // @ct-5445 // @iceboundstar // @rahdaleigh // @pink-polarfox // @b3k1720 // @itseivwhore // @sofiewithat // @missbenzayb

Assassin's Creed Mobile Masterlist

Red Dead Redemption 2 Mobile Masterlist

Part 1 HERE, Part 2 HERE

The night was cold.

You retreated further under the blankets, turning to rest your head on your beloved’s chest. You wore an oversized shirt, and he wore a loose pair of breeches. His arm pulled you closer, fingers stroking your bicep. In turn, you traced the Rook painted on his chest. “Jacob?”

He turned to gaze down at you, lips inches from your forehead. “Yes, my love?”

“My family have written to me; they would like me to visit them in Warwick.”

“Your family lives quite far,” Jacob remarked, smiling adoringly at you. “Will you and Lily be alright travelling by yourselves?”

You sighed. “That’s the problem.” Sitting up, you gently grasped Jacob’s hand, playing with his fingers. “They don’t know that Lily exists, and I have no chance of telling them that I have a child without the status of ‘wife’.”

“I see…” Jacob watched you trace the lines on his hand. “Is there anything I can do?”

Propose, you idiot.

“Could you look after Lily while I’m away?”

“On my own?” His fingers tightened around yours.

“I trust you with her, Jacob. You’re the only one I can trust her with.”

He sucked in a breath. “Are you sure?”

“Stop doubting yourself.” You kissed his temple. “Besides, she adores you; she’ll listen to you.”

“Alright then. It’s decided.”

“Thank you, my love. However can I make it up to you?”

Sensing the humour in your tone, Jacob winked. “I can think of a few things.”

You laughed to yourself as you blew out your candle, the darkness enveloping the room as you pulled yourself closer to Jacob, the security of his arms lulling you to sleep.

----------

Before you knew it, you were packing a carriage with your luggage, setting off for the journey ahead. Jacob was standing in the doorway of your house, Lily resting on his hip. “Mama, do you have to go?”

“Sweetheart, if I don’t, then horrible Aunt Susan will come marching all the way down here herself, and we don’t want that, do we?” Lily shook her head, giggling.

“She’s not the only one who’s going to miss you.” Jacob wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you into his side. Smiling, he dipped his head to lock his lips with yours.

“Yuck!”

The both of you pulled apart, chuckling.

“Well, I best be going. Don’t get into any trouble; I know what you both are like unsupervised.”

Sharing mischievous looks, they began to wave as you got into the carriage.

“Bye, Mama!”

“Safe travels, my love!”

You watched as they recede from view, the picture of your perfect family playing in your mind as hooves against cobblestone played in your ears.

As soon as the carriage turned the corner, Jacob turned to Lily. “What do you fancy doing?”

Lily giggled. “I have school!”

Jacob mockingly rolled his eyes. “That is the worst answer I’ve ever heard.”

“Are you saying I can skip?”

As much as he’d want to say yes, you would have punted him six ways from Sunday. “‘fraid not, love.” He took her inside. “But I can promise that afterwards, I’ll take you to get iced cream.” Lily cheered in victory before she hopped down, scurrying to collect her things for the day ahead.

----------

Jacob walked Lily to school that morning, keeping her on his left and away from the curb. He grasped her hand firmly, lest she get lost in the rushing crowd. When he approached the building, he saw various parents saying goodbye to their children, as well as some children arriving on their own.

He knelt down to her height, tidying her windswept appearance with a reassuring grin. “You have a good day, alright?”

Smiling widely, she nodded, wrapping her arms around his neck. “Thank you, Papa.”

Wait, what?

Jacob’s breath caught in his throat. Lost for words, he kissed her head and returned the hug tenfold. “I love you, angel.”

“Love you too!”

The bell rang moments after, causing Lily to pull away. “Don’t be late!” Waving, she ran to catch up with her friends and disappeared into the building. Standing up, Jacob cleared his throat and tugged on his waistcoat to compose himself, though he could barely stifle his grin. The warmth in his heart engulfed his chest. He walked past the rest of the parents as if he were walking on clouds, his happiness fixed for the day.

----------

“What’s got you in such a good mood today?” Evie asked her brother, watching incredulously as she found him tidying his train carriage.

“Oh, nothing.” Although his tone was dismissive, his face told a completely different story.

“Did you… have a good night?”

“Oh, no.” Chuckling, he sifted through the papers on his desk. “Y/N’s headed to Warwick.”

Puzzled, Evie tilted her head. “Free beer?”

“Nope.” He popped the ‘P’.

“Come on, then; what is it? You can’t expect me to keep guessing forever.”

Restraining himself from jumping for joy, he turned to his sister. “Lily called me ‘Papa’.”

Evie’s face lit up. “Oh, Jacob, that’s lovely! Does this mean you’ll…” She mimicked opening a ring box.

Blushing, he nodded, a toothy grin plastered on his face. “I’m excited, Evie. I… I need to sit down.”

He leaned back on the sofa, tossing his hat beside him. Running a hand through his hair, he sighed. “Are you alright?” Evie took a chair to sit opposite him.

“I… I’ve never felt this much joy in my life.”

“Jacob Frye, you’re practically speechless.”

“Don’t get used to it.”

“You have to buy the rings before Y/N comes back.”

“I will. Maybe Lily will want to come with me. Not yet, though; I don’t want to spring the news on her immediately.”

Evie began to talk about the type of engagement ring you would find the most appealing, but Jacob had all but zoned out. He was fidgeting with the iron band on his right index finger, engraved on the inside with the Assassin’s Insignia. Barely thinking, he removed it and switched hands, sliding it on his ring finger.

He was going to get married. You were going to be his wife.

“What if she doesn’t say ‘yes’?” A sudden anxiety clutched his heart as he looked up in worry.

Evie was stunned into silence. “What are you talking about?! Of course she’s going to say yes!”

“She has a child to think about; what if she doesn’t want to get married at all?”

“Jacob,” she sighed. “She knows you’d do anything for Lily. You’ve done it right from the beginning.” He shifted in his seat as a phantom pain clutched his side, remembering his tussle with Thomas Lynch. “She would be insane not to want someone like you as a husband, and as a father to her child.”

“When did you learn to talk like that?” Jacob smirked.

“When you’re the eldest, you learn a thing or two.”

“Bullshit.” He scoffed, but wordlessly thanked her for the reassurance.

“Knock knock.” Eyes fixed on the doorway as Henry peered around the corner. “I don’t mean to interrupt, but I need some papers from Jacob.”

“Right; which ones?” He stood up and closed the two meter gap to the pile of half sorted paperwork.

“The ones on James Brudenell.”

“Who?” He frowned.

“Lord Cardigan.”

“Oh, that prick…” He thumbed through the various files, quickly getting to the end with no sign of the desired intel. “I must’ve left it at the house. I’ll head off there now and bring them to you tomorrow.”

“Can you not come back straight away?”

“I need to get to the school; there won’t be enough time. I’m taking Lily out for that new iced cream.” Evie quirked her lips into a knowing smile. “What?”

“Oh, nothing,” she shrugged.

Shaking his head, Jacob grabbed his hat and opened the door, watching the train slow into the station. “See you tomorrow.”

“Don’t forget the--”

“The papers, yes, I’ll get them!” By then, he had already jumped onto the platform, disappearing into the crowd.

----------

On the stroll back to the house, Jacob checked his pocket watch, planning his time accordingly. He’ll find the papers, finish the paperwork that should’ve been completed two weeks ago, and head to the school.

The street seemed unusually quiet at this time in the afternoon, but Jacob only grew concerned when he noticed a lack of Rooks. Usually, there would be more and more scattered around the closer he grew to the house, but so far he could count them all on one hand. A scuffling from behind him pricked at his ears. He spun, brows furrowed, but the road was empty, save for a carriage calmly trotting past. He used it as a reassurance that he was probably acting paranoid, and continued where he was heading, albeit at a faster pace.

The secure feeling he felt upon approaching the house eased the weight on his chest. Pulling out his key, he wasted no time in disappearing inside. It was quiet without you, and there was the familiar longing he felt in his heart. Sighing, he mentally crossed off another minute until he could hold you in his arms again.

He moved upstairs and into his study. At the prospect of spending more time with him, you jumped at the chance to make a spare empty room a working office. He hung his jacket and hat on a coat rack, taking a seat at the desk. The natural light coming through the window landed perfectly on the wood, illuminating the workspace without the need for candles. Jacob searched his drawers, finding the file with relative ease. He grabbed a dip pen, opened an ink pot, and quickly began scrawling details down.

He was lost in thought at the memory of his encounter with Lord Cardigan when a crude knocking hit the door downstairs. Jacob froze, focusing on the noise outside. All business was kept around the train; he sternly told Evie and Henry not to give out the address to anyone. The only other people who would have had an idea where he was were the Rooks stationed around the street, but they were loyal -- were they not as trustworthy as he thought? Who was at the door?

Harsher thuds against the door made his heart leap. He moved slowly; inch by inch, he stood and crept towards the door, pulling out the cane from his coat as quietly as he could. His boots barely made a sound as he headed down the stairs, hand calmly turning the knob to open the door.

On the other side stood two gentlemen, waiting almost expectantly. “Can I help you?” Jacob asked, tone laced with suspicion.

The two exchanged looks before one started to speak. “Pardon me, sir, but would you be interested in purchasing some humbugs? We’re opening a new shop not too far from here. We thought we could go from door to door to begin our business endeavours.”

Eyes flitting between the two, unease began to set in. “No, thank you.”

“Understood. Have a nice day.” The other tipped his hat and turned to leave as Jacob slowly shut the door again.

“What…?” He’s had bankers act more persuasive than these men. They did not seem that interested in sales. His eyes scanned the room, as if that would give him answers to a most peculiar interaction. In a second, his heart jumped as they landed on the clock. If he didn’t leave now, he’d be late to pick up Lily. He grabbed his coat and hat from upstairs and burst out of the door, rushing in the direction of the school.

----------

He made the journey by the skin of his teeth, jogging almost the entire way. As soon as he approached, the bell rang, and children began to flood out of the doors. He stood by a tree and scanned the children as they continued to rush out. A few moments later, Lily emerged, nervously clutching her hands together as she scanned the adults around her. Jacob frowned and walked towards her, concern growing. He could see the upset growing as she at first couldn’t see him. “Lily!”

As soon as she heard her name, her gaze immediately landed on the source and took off running towards him. He knelt just in time for her to jump into his arms, face hiding in his neck. “Hey, are you--” He was cut off by the sound of sobs. “Okay, alright, it’s alright, angel.” Confused, he picked her up and went to sit on a bench overlooking the playground, shushing her gently.

Cradled in one arm, Jacob used his free arm to reach into his pocket, bringing out his flask. “Take a drink, sweetheart.” She gingerly took the container, taking a few gulps of the fresh water inside. “Now, tell me what happened.” He tried to speak softly, to not provoke more tears.

“I didn’t do it! They think I did, but I didn’t!”

“What didn’t you do?”

“Throw a rock.”

“Even if you did do that, it’s only a rock.”

“It hit the teacher!”

Jacob was silent for a minute. If they thought she pelted a rock at the teacher, there would have been harsh punishments…

“Please believe me; I promise I didn’t do it!”

Shocked, Jacob pulled her closer. “Of course I believe you! Why wouldn’t I?” His eyes landed on her fists, which have barely opened since he saw her, save for the flask. “Can I see your hands?”

She nodded, and Jacob shifted her against his shoulder so he could use both hands as he slowly uncurled her fingers. Her palms were a stark red, the clear markings of a cane riddled her skin almost completely; and they looked like the instrument hit hard. He quietly asked for the other one, inspecting them with the care one would give to a newborn, brows furrowing at the sight. Lily watched his eyes moving constantly across her hands. The thought of letting her father down ushered tears to the surface. Jacob’s eyes caught hers watering. “Did I hurt you?”

She shook her head. “I’m sorry…”

“You have nothing to be sorry for, love. Do you know who really did it?”

Nodding slowly, she pointed to the playground to a boy who was laughing by a group of children who were playing with marbles. “Oliver.”

“Okay.” The two of them stayed there for a while as Lily continued to calm down.

Just as Lily began to smile at Jacob’s conversation, a shadow overcame the both of them. Jacob felt her recoiling into his side. He looked up to see a weathered looking man with a styled moustache and a stiff looking suit, a hand against the back of his head. “So, she’s yours.” The slight tone of disapproval channeled an urge of protectiveness inside him. He sat Lily behind him on the bench as he stood toe to toe with the teacher.

“Is there a problem?” Jacob’s eyes assessed the man from head to toe, noting the thin cane that he leaned on.

“You should be ashamed of your daughter’s behaviour.”

“Why? She did nothing wrong.”

“On the contrary…” Turning around, he removed the cloth on his head, revealing a jagged cut along the back of his head.

“It wasn’t me, sir! It really wasn’t!” Lily was begging for her teacher to believe her.

“Then who was it?”

Lily stood up on the bench still hiding behind Jacob’s shoulder but managing to equal his height. “Him.”

Her finger showed Oliver laughing at someone who had tripped over a skipping rope.

“Do you really think that she would do something like this?” Jacob raised an eyebrow.

Neither agreeing or disagreeing, he instead gestured with his cane. “I’m watching you, Y/L/N.” Jacob narrowed his eyes. “I would be mindful of your attitude towards my daughter.”

Grumbling, the teacher turned and walked away. “Oliver!”

“Th-Thank you.” A sniffling from behind him softed his face and melted his heart.

“Let’s go, angel. There’s some iced cream with our name on it.”` He hoisted Lily on his hip and headed in the direction of home, hoping that the anger would dissipate with each passing step.

----------

The house came into view shortly after Jacob left the sweet shop, two cardboard pots of the cold dessert in their hands. “This is delicious!” Lily was almost her normal self again over the journey home, relinquishing details of the day as they closed the short distance to the house. Placing Lily on the floor, he took out his key and pushed it into the lock, turning the knob. Without turning the key, the door opened. He must’ve forgotten to lock it when he left the house earlier. Brushing it off, he opened the door the rest of the way and stepped aside for Lily to enter first. He checked the rest of the street one more time for anything out of the ordinary before shutting and locking the door behind him, acting safe rather than sorry.

A slight smell filled his nose as he walked into the room. It was barely there, but he could smell something. Unfocusing his eyes, he watched as colours flooded his vision. Looking around, he couldn’t spot anything strange right away, but the smell was in the air and it set him on edge. Shaking his head, he rubbed his eyes. He had felt more emotion in one day than he had for a long time, and his body had worn him out. “Are you hungry, Lily?”

She sat at the kitchen table. “A little bit.”

“Anything you particularly fancy tonight?”

“Hmm… Sausages and potatoes!”

Jacob chuckled at her excitement. “Consider it done, my lady.”

----------

Dinner was over and done with by the time the sun set below the skyline. Jacob helped Lily get ready for bed before tucking her in. “When’s Mama coming home?” she asked, playing with Jacob’s hair.

“Hopefully in a few days; Warwick is surprisingly far, even by carriage.”

“Thank you. For believing me.”

Jacob smiled sombrely. “I will always believe you. That also reminds me…” He reached into the bedside drawer and pulled out a small pot of salve. “May I?” Lily offered her hands, and Jacob gently rubbed the ointment over her raw skin.

“It’s cold.”

“It’s supposed to get rid of the pain. How do they feel?”

She nodded. “Good.”

As he returned the salve to the table, he took a breath, steeling himself to give either the best news or the worst news.

“How would you feel… if I asked your mother--”

“To marry you?!” Her eyes widened, her smile reaching her ears. “Yes!”

She jumped out of the covers to hug Jacob tightly. He reciprocated, closing his eyes to savour the moment. “Please ask her,” she whispered.

“You don’t have to tell me twice.” Giggles filled the air as he pulled the covers over her again.

“Thank you, for letting me in.”

“You make Mama happy. That’s all I want.”

Jacob sighed, a small smile playing on his lips. “You’re wise beyond your years.” He leant down to kiss her forehead. “Goodnight, angel.” He stood up and blew out the candle.

“Goodnight, Papa.” Lily didn’t miss the way Jacob’s eyes crinkled as he smiled, shutting the door quietly.

He poked his head into his study, sighing when he saw his half-finished paperwork that needed to be handed to Greenie the next morning. Every fibre in his being resisted, but he knew his procrastination would catch up to him eventually. So he sat down, lit a candle, and tried to wrap everything up in as little time as possible.

About half an hour went by before Jacob finished the long overdue paperwork. Struggling to keep his eyes open, he went downstairs to the spare room he kept his bedclothes in. He fell backwards onto the bed. “Just five minutes…” he bartered with himself, resting his eyes.

----------

A scream made his blood run cold.

Bolting upright, Jacob immediately noticed plumes of smoke coming in from underneath the door, the burning smell inviting a cough from his lungs.

The house was on fire.

He lunged for the doorknob, the metal quickly searing his skin. His fingers clenched around the knob reflexively. “Ah, fuck!” He shook out his hand, watching as the flesh blistered in front of his eyes. Turning around, he dug around in the chest of drawers for extra clothes to wrap around the knob, turning and pulling swiftly before the heat travelled through the fabric. The door burst open. Jacob ducked as the flames whipped around the open space, newly fed by the released oxygen. Fresh smoke engulfed the room; Jacob inhaled a lungful as it blew towards him. He cleared his chest as he fanned the smoke away. Wrapping the clothes around his arm as a guard, he braced himself and ran upstairs, only one thing on his mind.

“Lily?!” The flames had almost completely engulfed the lower floor; he was surprised and relieved that he had managed to dodge any falling debris. “Lily!” He covered the metal with the clothes as he reached her door, slowly peeling the door away and slipping through as small a gap as he could, avoiding the mistake he made earlier. He closed the door behind him, the air luckily cleaner in her bedroom. “Lily, where are you?!”

He checked under the bed, and began to grow panicked when he couldn’t find her. He heard the scream, but nothing else. What if…

He swallowed, trying to ease the tight band in his chest.

Opening the wardrobe, he practically collapsed in relief when he saw Lily cowering in the corner. “Come to me, angel.” She dived into his arms, quivering in fear. “It’s alright, we’ll get out. I need you to be brave for me, okay?”

“Okay.” Her voice was shaking.

He looked around for a quick exit, eyes landing on a window. He led Lily over and unlatched it, pushing it with his uninjured hand, albeit with difficulty. Leaning out, the air cleansed his lungs. He hoisted Lily onto the windowsill to give her fresher air, holding her to make sure she doesn’t fall out. She clutched onto him tightly. He noted how it opened into an alleyway. He heard the bells of police and fire engines around the front of the house.

“HEY! OVER HERE!” A man peered around the corner. “HEY! HELP!”

“We can’t fit the ladder through here! You have to go around the front!”

Jacob blinked. “Have you gone mad?!”

“There’s a small window around the front, looks like the landing. You better make a move before it’s no longer an option!”

“Can’t you just climb down?” Lily mumbled, mind in shock.

Jacob inspected his blistering palm; it felt as if he was still holding the doorknob. Slowly, he put pressure on his hand against the windowsill. The pain immediately bubbled up his arm. Biting his lip, he tried to pull himself onto the windowsill. With his weight, it was maybe possible, since he could drop higher than normal and roll once he hit the floor. With Lily, that wasn’t an option.

“I can’t risk it.”

“Well?!” The man was still there, watching him.

“Be ready!” Jacob pulled Lily into him. “I need you to breathe into this, alright, angel?” She nodded slowly. He gave her one of the shirts wrapped around his arm. “Close your eyes.”

“Should I count to ten?”

“It shouldn’t take any longer, love.”

Taking a second to compose himself, he wrapped his hand up and opened the door, squeezing through as little as he could before shutting the door again. He made a beeline for the end of the hall, dodging the flames as they grew nearer, licking the edge of the wooden floor. Reaching the window was the easy part. The hard part was opening the damn thing. It felt heavier than it usually did, and he strained his free hand to push it to the top. Outside, firemen were already level with the window, waiting for the two of them to emerge.

“One of you at a time.” Without hesitating, Jacob leaned out of the window, one arm reaching Lily out of the window, while the other stopped him from falling out himself.

Just as the firemen approached, Jacob heard a crack above him. “Take her. Take her now!” The urgency in his voice paid off, as he jumped out of the way of a falling support beam, blocking his way out. He hit the floor, covering his face as embers flew around him

Lily crying out caused his heart to flip, but he managed to catch a glimpse of her safely in the arms of the firemen. “No! PAPA!” His anxiety eased slightly, but only just. He scrambled to his feet just as the beam crumbled completely, blocking the window from view.

“Shit!” Coughing, Jacob looked around for another exit. His mind thought back to Lily’s bedroom; he could probably climb down carefully one-handed if he was quick enough. His study also seemed to be the furthest from the rest of the flames.

However, he was on borrowed time.

Downstairs was fully demolished; there was no way out there. Upstairs was closing in on him fast, the heat beginning to singe the hair on his arms and sear his skin. He ran for his study, narrowly avoiding falling debris. As he slammed the door shut, he was relieved at the sight of the room being unscathed. For now. He looked over the papers; they were definitely worth taking.

He emptied his desk of the files and stuffed them in a satchel that hid under his desk. He worked tenderly with his burned hand, careful not to aggravate the wound more than he already had. He coughed some more as he slid the satchel over his head, tightening the strap so it would lay fast against his back. As the cold leather touched his skin, he hissed. The flames must have licked him on the way in. He turned to check how much time he had left.

The fire had crept inside the doorframe, taunting him in a turbulent tango.

Jacob hurried for the window, looking for the latch. His fingers felt around the edge, but he couldn’t feel anything. He tried pushing, with no luck. Does this window not even open?!

Frantic, his non-dominant and uninjured hand went for the first thing that he could always rely on.

Two wide shots rang out, cracking the glass in a spider-web mosaic. He moved to shatter the glazing, but the world began to spin. Knees wobbling, he fell against his desk, hitting the floor. Coughing hurt, breathing hurt, thinking hurt.

But he was so close.

He blinked away the world that spun around him, shakily getting to his feet. He threw the force of his whole arm into the window, the gun providing the force to break the shards completely. Clearing the way for his hands, Jacob holstered the gun and slowly began the climb onto the roof.

He wasn’t dying. Not today.

Wincing every other second, he pulled himself half-heartedly onto the tiles. Jacob took a second to try and stabilise his vision, securing extra fabric around his hand. He manWeuvered his way around the burning holes, hoping instead to find a way down that doesn’t involve jumping or falling.

Unfortunately for him, that choice was made for him.

A tile came loose under his foot. He slipped, the edge of the roof coming almost too soon for him to react. His fingers grasped the gutter, which did nothing but snap under his weight. Upon hitting the ground, Jacob managed to roll, but instead of ending on his feet, he slumped across the floor. Groaning, he lay still as he recollected himself. To anyone else, he looked dead.

A pained cry set his heart pumping again, yet he didn’t realise at first that the cry was because of him, not for him. Light footsteps rushed over to him. “Pa? Papa?” He felt fingertips dance across his cheek. “Please wake up!”

He reached for the source of the voice. “I’m okay. Are you alright?” He managed to open his eyes to check over Lily’s state. Her eyes were bloodshot, her skin was dirtied in soot, and one of her hands was bleeding. “Has anyone said they would help you with this?”

She shook her head, the worry not leaving her face. “I’m scared.”

“Don’t be; it’s over now.” He began the arduous process of standing up; from his stomach to his hands to his knees to his feet. Offering his hand to her, Jacob led the two of them out into the street. When everyone gathered in the street saw them, they cheered. Rooks quickly came to assist Jacob and pick up Lily, but he waved them away. He limped his way to the ambulance wagon waiting in front of them. Lily was hoisted onto the end while Jacob leaned heavily against the side. Lily faced him for reassurance.

“Mr Frye, sir!” He tilted his head as little as he could to get a view of who was calling his name. “Are you alright?”

“I’ll be fine; just a bit singed.” He tried to joke, but the pain in his face betrayed his laidback attitude. He grasped his ribs, as if it would ease the burn on the inside. “Where’s Evie?”

“As soon as we heard what happened, we sent for her. She should be here any minute now.”

“Lily goes with Evie. As soon as she shows up, take her to the train. She’ll be safe there.” Another hard cough shook his chest.

“With all due respect, are you sure you’re well?”

“I’m… I…” The floor was ripped from under him. Jacob’s knees buckled as his vision went black. After a few seconds, he came to. The Rooks had caught him on the way down. Disorientated, he blinked, trying to process what was going on around him.

He heard a familiar voice. “Where are they?” Rooks wrapped Jacob’s arms around their necks, pulling him to the edge of the wagon. He barely registered arms pulling him from behind to lie down. He noted how he was staring up at the stars.

“Evie!” A young, panicked yell drove Jacob to sit up, but hands pushed him back down against the wood.

“You don’t want to make things any worse, Mr Frye.”

His body jolted between consciousness and unconsciousness as Evie came into view. She also looked worried. “Jacob? I’ve got Lily; she’ll be safe. I’ll come to the hospital as soon as I can.” Lily was snuggled against Evie, a bandage wrapped around her hand.

“Let’s hope I don’t fall off.” It was weak and hoarse, but there was humour in his tone.

“You better not.”

“Take the bag.” He gestured to the leather satchel underneath him. Slowly, she undid the strap and pulled it out from under him, barely able to avoid causing a wince. She looked inside to find the papers in impressive condition. “It’s the paperwork Greenie asked for.”

Jacob’s smile was weak as the wagon began to drive away. The rocking of the cobblestones was rough, and although jarring, also brought comfort. He fell in company with the stars as his consciousness left him yet again.

----------

The next time he became lucid, he immediately noticed that he could breathe better; oxygen was easier to take in than before, and although not perfect, kept the lightheadedness away. He opened his eyes slowly, blinking to adjust to the light. The feeling of rough gauze was not unfamiliar to him, so he assessed the wounds on his back based on how rough it felt to lean on.

He brought his burned hand up to see that it had also been wrapped neatly. Although that was the majority of his wounds, his entire body ached. He leaned back into his pillow and closed his eyes, assessing the situation. Approaching footsteps made him roll his head to the side, and a doctor appeared with a clipboard. “How are you feeling, my boy?” He asked with a pencil in his mouth, flipping through the various pages.

“Like I’ve been run over by a carriage. Multiple times.”

“I’m not surprised; you inhaled half a factory.”

Jacob prepared himself for the question he knew he had to ask but would hate the answer to. “How long has it been?”

“Oh, a few days, give or take.”

“How many days are we giving or taking?”

Just then, a door opened on the far end of the ward, a few people rapidly approaching. As they turned the corner, Jacob’s heart sank a bit. You were hurrying towards him with the look of a mortified wife, but he dreaded what you thought would be more mortifying: your house burning down, putting your only daughter’s life in danger…

“Thank God!” You swerved around the bed and kissed him, one which conveyed a hundred different emotions, the most evident being relief. After the initial shock, Jacob’s fingers came to your jaw, lightly directing as he kissed you deeper.

He slowly pulled away, worried eyes scanning your face. “I’m so sorry, Y/N, I haven’t the foggiest what happened--”

“You’re both safe; that’s all that matters.”

“But the house…”

“I’ve been prepared for disasters like this for a while. Everything I couldn’t stand to lose went in a fireproof box. There’s nothing gone that I can’t replace.”

“Papa!” Your eyes widened as you exchanged an impressed look with Jacob. Lily had crawled onto the bed and nestled her way into Jacob’s arms.

“Are you alright?” Without speaking, she nodded, deciding to play with his hand, fidgeting with his fingers and tracing the lines. Jacob looked to Evie, who followed her in.

Shepulled a concerned face, coming up to her and putting her hands over Lily’s ears. “She’s been crying herself to sleep, sometimes waking up in the middle of the night calling for one of you, sometimes both. She’ll heal, I’m sure, but for now I think time needs to pass. I investigated what could have happened that night; it wasn’t you.”

“I wouldn’t be surprised if they were Templars; pisses me off though.” He turned to you. “If you hadn’t visited your family…”

“Don’t ponder the ‘if’s, Jacob. It leads to all sorts of grief.” You threaded your hands through his hair.

Evie nodded. “All I know is what happened, not necessarily who did it.”

“Go on.”

“The house was rigged to burn down. Someone must’ve broken in, set down some oil or gas, and set it alight. It all happened very quickly -- it’s a miracle you got out when you did.”

At the explanation, Jacob ran a hand down his face. “The fun never stops.” He shifted to stand up.

“What are you doing?” You put your hand on his shoulder.

“I’m going to find whoever did this, and I have a feeling I know exactly where to start.”

“Not in this state you’re not.”

He stood up, much to your protests. “Honestly, Y/N, I’m…” His vision went black immediately, blood rushing to his head.

You quickly caught him. “‘Fine?” Sitting him down again, you brushed his hair out of his face. “Just take it easy.”

“I have errands to run.”

Evie whispered something to Lily, who gave the couple a mischievous grin. “We can do it!”

Jacob smiled, catching on. He leaned down to Lily’s ear. “Pick something Y/F/C,” he whispered. She nodded, grabbing Evie’s hand and running away.

The both of you laughed as Evie was dragged out of the ward. “What was that about?” You raised an eyebrow at the secrecy.

“It’s a surprise.”

Rolling your eyes, you joined him on the bed. “Don’t keep me waiting for too long.”

Jacob smiled to himself, the familiar excitement climbing. “I won’t.”

#assassin's creed #assassin's creed x reader #assassin's creed x f!reader #jacob frye #jacob frye x reader #jacob frye x f!reader #jacob frye oneshot #x reader #assassin's creed oneshot #assassin's creed imagine

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bewitching-elizabeth-olsen · 3 years

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Press/Gallery: How Elizabeth Olsen Brought Marvel From Mainstream to Prestige

“The thing I love about being an actor is to fully work with someone and try so hard to be at every level with them, chasing whatever it is you need or want from them.”

GALLERY LINKS

Studio Photoshoots > 2021 > Session 008 Magazine Scans > 2021 > Backstage (August 19)

Backstage: Elizabeth Olsen grins widely over video chat when recalling many such moments on set with her co-stars. Yet, she can’t bring herself to divorce such a lofty vision of film acting from the technical multitasking it requires. The camera sees all.

“But then you move your hair, and you’re in your brain, like: OK, remember that! Because I don’t want to edit myself out of a shot. I know some actors are like, ‘Continuity, shmontinuity!’ But the good thing about continuity is, if you remember it, you’re actually providing yourself with more options for the edit.”

That need to balance being both inside the scene and outside of it, fully living it and yet constantly visualizing it on a screen, feels particularly apt in light of Olsen’s most recent project, “WandaVision.”

The mysteries at the heart of the show grow with every episode, each fast-forwarding to a different decade: Could this 1950s, black-and-white, “filmed in front of a studio audience” newlyweds bit be a grief-stricken dream? Might this ’70s spoof be a powerful spell gone awry? Could this meta take on mockumentary comedies be proof that the multiverse is finally coming to the Marvel Cinematic Universe?

The series’ structure, which branches out to include government agents intent on finding out why Westview has seemingly disappeared, calls for the entire cast to play with a mix of genres, balancing a shape-shifting tone that culminates in an epic, MCU-style conclusion. What’s key—and why the show struck a chord with audiences during its nine-episode run—is the miniseries’ commitment to grounding its initial kooky setups and its later special effects-driven spectacle in heartbreaking emotional truths. It’s no small feat, though it’s one that can often be taken for granted.

“I was thinking how hard it would have been to have shot the first ‘Lord of the Rings,’ ” Olsen muses. “Like, you’re putting all these actors [into the frame] later and at all these different levels. All the eyelines are completely unnatural. And yet the performances are fantastic! And technically, they are so hard. People forget sometimes that these things are really technically hard to shoot. And if you are moved by their performance, that took a lot of multitasking.”

As someone who has learned plenty about harnesses, wirework, fight choreography, and green screens (she’s starred in four Marvel movies, including the box office megahit “Avengers: Endgame,” after all), Olsen knows how hard it can be to wrap one’s brain around the work needed to pull off those big, splashy scenes.

“If you think about it, it’s, like, the biggest stakes in the entire world—every time. And that feels silly to act over and over again, especially when people are in silly costumes and the love of your life is purple and sparkly, and every time you kiss them, you have to worry about getting it on your hands. Those things are ridiculous. You feel ridiculous. So there is a part of your brain that has to shovel that away and just look into someone’s eyeballs—and sometimes, they don’t even have eyeballs!”

The ability to spend so much time with Wanda, albeit in the guise of sitcom parodies, was a welcome opportunity for Olsen. Not only did it allow the actor to really wrestle with the traumatic backstory that has long defined the character in the MCU, but having the chance to calibrate a performance that functions on so many different levels was a thrilling challenge.

“It was such an amazing work experience,” she says. “Kathryn [Hahn] uses the word ‘profound’—which is so sweet, because it is Marvel, and people, you know, don’t think of those experiences as profound when they watch them. But it really was such a special crew that [director] Matt Shakman and [creator] Jac Schaeffer created. It was a really healthy working environment.”

Related‘WandaVision’ Star Kathryn Hahn’s Secret to Building a Scene-Stealing Performance ‘WandaVision’ Star Kathryn Hahn’s Secret to Building a Scene-Stealing Performance Considering that the miniseries spans several sitcom iterations, various layers of televisual reality, and a number of character reveals that needed to feel truthful and impactful in equal measure, Shakman’s decision to work closely with his actors ahead of shooting was key.

“We truly had a gorgeous amount of time together before we started filming,” Olsen remembers. “Our goal was—which is controversial in TV land—that if you wanted to change [anything], like dialogue in a scene, you had to give those notes a week before we even got there. Because sometimes you get to set, and someone had a brilliant idea while they were sleeping, and you’re like, ‘We don’t have an hour to talk about this. We have seven pages to shoot.’ And so, we were all on the same page with one another, knowing what we were shooting ahead of time.

“Matt just treated us like a troupe of actors who were about to do some regional theater shit,” she adds with a smile.

That spirit of camaraderie was, not coincidentally, at the heart of Olsen’s breakout project, Sean Durkin’s 2011 indie sensation “Martha Marcy May Marlene.” As an introduction to the process of filmmaking to a young stage-trained actor, Durkin’s quietly devastating drama was a dream—and an invaluable learning opportunity.

“It was truly just a bunch of people who loved the script, who just were doing the work. I didn’t understand lenses, so I just did the same thing all the time. I never knew if the camera would be on me or not. There was just so much purity in that experience, and you only have that once.”

The film announced Olsen as a talent to watch: a keen-eyed performer capable of deploying a stilted physicality and clipped delivery, which she used to conjure up a wounded girl learning how to shake off her time spent in a cult in upstate New York. But Olsen admits that it took her a while to figure out how to navigate her career choices afterward. In the years following “Martha,” she felt compelled to try on everything: a horror flick here, a high-profile remake there, a period piece here, an action movie there. It wasn’t until she starred in neo-Western thriller “Wind River” (alongside fellow Marvel regular Jeremy Renner) and the dark comedy “Ingrid Goes West” (opposite a deliciously deranged Aubrey Plaza) that Olsen found her groove.

“It was at that point, when I was five years into working, where I was like, Ah, I know how I want it. I know what I need from these people—from who’s involved, from producers, from directors, from the character, from the script—in order to trust that it’s going to be a fruitful experience.”

As Olsen looks back on her first decade as a working actor, she points out how far removed she is from that young girl who broke out in “Martha Marcy May Marlene.”

“I feel like a totally different person. I don’t know if everyone who’s in their early 30s feels like their early 20s self is a totally different human. But when I think about that version of myself, it feels like a long time ago; there’s a lot learned in a decade.”

Those early years were marked by a self-effacing humility that often led Olsen to defer to others when it came to key decisions about the characters she was playing. But she now feels emboldened to not only stand up for herself and her choices but for others on her sets as well.

“[Facebook Watch series] ‘Sorry for Your Loss’ I got to produce, and I really found my voice in a collaborative leadership way. And with ‘WandaVision,’ Paul [Bettany] and I really took on that feeling, as well—especially since we were introducing new characters to Marvel and wanted [those actors] to feel protected and helped,” she says. “They could ask questions and make sure they felt like they had all the things they needed because sometimes you don’t even know what you need to ask.”

It’s a lesson she learned working with filmmaker Marc Abraham on the Hank Williams biopic “I Saw the Light,” and she’s carried it with her ever since. “I really want it to feel like we’re all in this together, as a team,” Olsen says. “That was part of ‘Sorry for Your Loss’ and it was part of ‘WandaVision,’ and I hope to continue that kind of energy because those have been some of the healthiest work experiences I’ve had.”

If Olsen sounds particularly zealous about the importance of a comfortable, working set, it is because she’s well aware that therein lies an integral part of the work and the process. As an actor, she wants to feel protected and nurtured by those around her, whether she’s reacting to a telling, quiet line of dialogue about grief or donning her iconic Scarlet Witch outfit during a magic-filled mid-air action sequence.

“Sometimes you’re going to be foolish, you know? And [you need to] feel brave to be foolish. Sometimes people feel embarrassed on set and snap. But if you’re in a place where people feel like they’re allowed to be an idiot,” she says, “you’re going to feel better about being an idiot.”

This story originally appeared in the Aug. 19 issue of Backstage Magazine. Subscribe here.

Press/Gallery: How Elizabeth Olsen Brought Marvel From Mainstream to Prestige was originally published on Elizabeth Olsen Source • Your source for everything Elizabeth Olsen

#Elizabeth Olsen #WandaVision #Avengers #Scarlet Witch #Wanda Maximoff #Sorry For Your Loss #Avengers Infinity War #Avengers Age of Ultron #Captain America Civil War #Ingrid Goes West #Godzilla #Doctor Strange in the Multiverse of Madness #Marvel #MCU #Candy Montgomery #Love and Death #Avengers Endgame

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ironwoman359 · 3 years

Text

You Don’t Own Me (You Don’t Even Know Me)

Chapter 4

Navigation: Ch.1, Ch.2, Ch.3, Ch.4, Ch.5, Ch.6

Summary: As the son of a Baron, Roman Sanders always knew that when he married, it would be due to a political arrangement rather than true love. Still, when he is sent away to marry an older, more powerful Earl, he is determined to make the best of his situation. Despite the Earl’s indifference towards him, Roman forges ahead and prepares to become the best husband he can possibly be, making new friends along the way. But when his fiancé’s demeanor turns from cold to cruel, Roman must shift all of his focus to survival, and find a way out of his marriage before it’s too late.

Ships: Logince, side Moxiety and Dukeceit

Content Warnings (overall): arranged marriage, abuse, attempted sexual assault, murder, poisoning, character death, hurt/comfort, angst Chapter 4 Warnings: possessive behavior, verbal and physical abuse, angst, allusions to abuse and murder

Word Count: 4067

Read on AO3: here!

A/N: Co-written with @5-falsehoods-phonated, check out his masterlist here and check out mine here!

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“And when I tried to get down, Remus spooked the pony and it bolted, with me still clinging to the saddle for dear life.”

Virgil snorted, then immediately brought his hand up to cover his smile.

“You wound me!” Roman said dramatically, placing a hand on his chest. “Eight-year-old me was certain that his life was going to end, and you’re laughing?”

“I can’t help that the mental image of you dangling off the saddle of a pony and screaming your head off is the funniest thing I’ve seen all week,” Virgil replied.

“Be nice, Virgil!” Patton scolded, even as he fought back giggles of his own. “I’m sure it was very scary at the time!”

“You’re telling me,” Roman agreed. “I wouldn’t set foot near the stables for a month.”

“I can’t believe that after all that you somehow grew up to be a competent rider,” Virgil said.

“Well, I probably wouldn’t have if it weren’t for my older brother Remy. He started taking me with him when he went out on his rides; I felt a lot safer riding double with him than I did by myself.”

“Your brothers sound wonderful,” Patton said, smiling.

“Oh, they’re the absolute worst,” Roman said. “But also I love them more than anyone.”

“I hope we’ll get to meet them at the wedding!”

Roman’s smile went brittle around the edges, and he forced himself to nod.

“I hope so too,” he said quietly.

Patton’s brow wrinkled, and Roman knew that look, that was Patton’s “I’m worried about you” look, and as much as he had come to view Patton and Virgil as his friends, he wasn’t sure if he was ready to get into the whole “my twin brother ran away from home to escape noble life and I haven’t seen him in years and might never see him again” topic with them just yet.

“Well this has been great,” Virgil cut in suddenly. “But it’s getting close to midday; I need to get back to work, and you need to get to your little lunch date.”

“Excuse you, it is a perfectly professional business meeting!” Roman protested, and Virgil rolled his eyes.

“Sure it is. That’s why you meet with Logan every single day and always perk up or get this silly smile on your face whenever you mention something that he said, most of which has nothing to do with business.”

Roman gave Virgil a deadpan look. “Do you really want me to retaliate right now?” he asked, glancing pointedly at Patton.

Virgil’s cheeks flushed pink, and he waved Roman away.

“Go on, then!” he said. “Go have your perfectly professional business meeting.”

“I will!” Roman said primly, but as he stood to leave, he shot Virgil a grateful smile, and Virgil nodded in return.

After parting with Patton at the house’s entrance, Roman made the short trek down to the library alone. He hadn’t been sure how he would manage living at the Howard Estate at first, but his life had settled into a predictable yet comfortable routine since the engagement banquet.

Patton brought breakfast to his room every morning, and after Roman insisted several times that he preferred the company, Patton now stayed to eat with him most mornings. After breakfast, Roman changed into his riding clothes and the two headed down to the stables together, where Virgil was waiting for them with Angel. Roman took his morning ride, and Patton and Virgil did whatever it was they liked to do when they were alone together.

When he returned, Roman helped Virgil groom Angel, and the three of them often fell into easy conversation with one another. At midday, Roman took his lunch in the library with Logan, and he spent the afternoons on his own, exploring the mansion or indulging in his creative hobbies. All in all, his days were mostly pleasant, until dinnertime, of course.

His nightly dinner with Lord Howard was, to his disappointment, the most boring and uncomfortable part of Roman’s day. It became clear to Roman after a few attempts of engaging with his fiance that Lord Howard wasn’t even slightly interested in talking with him; what he wanted was somebody to talk at. Roman sat, night after night, and listened to the earl rant about frustrating business partners, idiotic city officials, and even tiny annoyances like a scuff on his boot or a fly in his office. It was difficult to not feel like an emotional punching bag, and Roman always left dinner exhausted from playing the polite, doting fiance that Lord Howard expected him to be.

Roman stepped into the library, and smiled when he saw Logan sitting at a table beneath a window, the afternoon sun casting golden beams of light through his long hair.

At least there were more positives than negatives to living at this estate.

“Ah, Roman,” Logan said, smiling as he approached. “Excellent timing, I was just beginning to review my weekly report for Lord Howard. Would you care to assist me?”

“Always,” Roman said, sitting down across from him.

They poured over the receipts and summaries and work orders together, and Roman couldn’t help but marvel at the sheer amount of work that Logan did every single day.

“Honestly, Logan, you do almost too much for the earl. Especially considering what he pays you.”

Roman had seen the payroll receipts for all the staff, and he couldn’t help but be a little insulted on the servants’ behalf. One of the ways Lord Howard kept costs down was clearly at the expense of his staff.

“While I may agree with your sentiment, the fact of the matter is that if I did not do all this, the estate would fall apart,” Logan said. “And regardless of any...personal feelings about his lordship, there are far too many people who depend on him and his estate for me to consider stopping.”

Logan paused, frowning as he scanned a document, then sighed.

“For instance, his lordship neglected to sign off on a shipment of new armor to the city guard, despite my reminding him to do so three times in the last week.”

He scrawled something along the bottom of the document and set it aside, and Roman raised an eyebrow.

“Was that Lord Howard’s name you just wrote?”

Logan fiddled with his glasses, and he glanced around the room before answering. “This is...not the first time that his lordship has neglected his duties on what he perceives to be minor issues. I, uh...take the liberty of correcting such oversights for him.”

“You can forge his handwriting?” Roman translated, and Logan nodded sheepishly. “That’s amazing!”

Logan blinked, looking up at Roman in clear surprise. “I...it is?”

“Are you kidding me?” Roman exclaimed. “Of course it is...you’re so talented, Logan, really. I’m not exaggerating when I say you’re wasted as a secretary.”

“Oh...well, thank you, Roman,” Logan said, his cheeks flushing slightly pink. “I must admit, you also have far more potential than his lordship would care to acknowledge.”

“I’ll get him to see sense soon,” Roman insisted. “Then maybe together, we can make some real changes around here!”

“I wish I shared your optimism,” Logan said with a sigh. “But I am glad to share your company, at least.”

It was Roman’s turn to blush, but before he could think of a reply, the sound of footsteps caught his attention, and he looked up to see Patton approaching their table.

“Sorry for interrupting, Kiddos, but I’ve been asked to fetch Roman here and get him ready.”

“Get me ready?” Roman asked, and Patton nodded.

“His lordship requests your presence at a business meeting he has in an hour with other estate holders. I’ve been instructed to dress you for the event and bring you to his lordship.”

Roman forced down the twinge of discomfort in the back of his mind at the earl choosing an outfit for him like he was some sort of doll, and grinned as he got to his feet.

“You see, Logan?” he said. “This is our chance!”

“If it is a meeting with other nobility, then I’m afraid I won’t be present,” Logan said. “Lord Howard does not wish for...commoners to be present at such negotiations. He instructs me on what measures need to be taken afterwards.”

“That’ll be the first thing we change then, once I make him see reason,” Roman said. “You’ll see, this is going to be the start of something great!”

“I hope you are right,” Logan said with a small smile. “Good luck, Roman.”

“Thank you, Logan,” Roman said as he followed Patton out of the library.

I’ll certainly need it.

--- --- ---

Roman fidgeted uncomfortably in his chair, shooting a glance over to the earl to make sure he hadn’t noticed. The silky fabric that his pants were made of stuck uncomfortably to his skin and made his legs itch horribly, but he had been in similar attire before and had had plenty of practice in the art of keeping his poise while screaming internally. Thankfully, even though he was seated right next to Lord Howard, he had yet to draw his attention. Howard had been too occupied bragging about his various business exports for most of the meeting to pay much attention to him.

Even through his discomfort, Roman had been learning a lot about his fiance, dutifully keeping mental notes on everything he heard, from which parts of land he had inherited to which ones he had bought or negotiated into owning. Overseas businesses and local investments both let his power reach farther than one might first suspect, and all that put together was what kept the Howard Estate with its acres of land, sprawling mansion and extensive grounds and highly specialized staff all running smoothly.

It was a lot to manage, so it made sense that Lord Howard had Logan figure out most of the work and only signed off on the most important things himself. Having someone as competent as Logan run things in the background so the true estate head could make the actual appearances as the business leader was a strategy many nobles used to keep their properties under control.

Craning his neck to look up at his fiance from his lower seat, Roman furrowed his brow in thought. He wondered just how much Logan did that the earl never saw anything about until he reaped the benefits of it. Sure, Logan was extremely capable, but relying entirely on one person to manage everything seemed a bit foolhardy to Roman.

Tuning back into the conversation, Roman perked up as another lord gestured stiffly at a stack of documents in front of him, smooth calculation clear in his tone of voice. Negotiations were something Roman had always prided himself in handling, and handling well. He had often spoken circles around his own father in their practice debates, and it was rare that Roman participated in a discussion without gaining something in his own favor.

As neither party at the moment looked particularly stressed, Roman figured with a slight twinge of disappointment that such measures shouldn’t be needed this time. He would have liked to show off just a bit and make Lord Howard see what a useful asset he could actually be in their marriage, but he supposed that could wait until a more appropriate opportunity.

“I have most of the influence in this field anyway. Signing your bit of land over to me now would cause fewer problems for you in the future; especially if I don’t have to take it by force when I’m looking to expand.” Punctuating his statement with a firm tap to the papers, the opposing lord sat back with a satisfied smirk.

The icy glare Lord Howard fixed him with was enough to wipe the smirk fully off his face, however, and he tilted back slightly as the earl leaned forward to fold his hands smoothly in front of him.

“I’m not in the habit of signing away what’s rightfully mine, Lord Rilken, Baron of Vilvik.”

Roman flinched slightly at the way he practically spat the other man’s title…a title he shared, and had never once felt insecure about until this very moment. The way he spoke to these men, these people in positions of power, like they were nothing but dirt to be brushed off his own much more impressive riches- it was enough to make Roman want to run all the way back to his own estate and beg for another way, plead to wait for someone else to ask for his hand or to find someone himself. He stiffened in his seat and shook the irrational thoughts away.

No, this is how one played the game when negotiating important matters. Put up a cold and intimidating front until the other person backed down or bent to your own suggestions. If anything, Lord Howard's act was admirable; it almost immediately shut down any arguments, even if it hardly held any semblance of tact. Realizing this would be a good opportunity to show his skills, Roman leaned forward and placed his own hands on the table in front of him, gaining the attention of the opposing business owners quickly.

“It might prove advantageous to you both to simply form a partnership and share the land and business potential it holds. With as much power as the both of you hold over this branch, you’d be able to expand much faster and reap more benefits than you would if you spent all of your time attempting to take control over the others’ sections.” Pleased with himself, Roman glanced over to Lord Howard, expecting at least to have impressed him since he hadn’t really had the time to explain all that he had been trained in and what he could bring to the estate with their union.

However, as he met Lord Howard’s eyes, ice ran through his veins. The earl was glaring, staring him down like a particularly resilient bug that he could hardly wait to smash beneath a steel-toed boot. The room went so quiet that Roman could swear that the other nobles were holding their breath, and glancing around in his peripherals, he saw everyone sitting around the table gawking at him as if he’d just committed high treason. Had he really said something so wrong? Was this not what was customary, nay, expected behavior of the soon to be co-owner of the estate? Shrinking down slightly as his ears burned red, he finally lowered his eyes as the earl turned away. Roman heard him take a deep breath before saying in a deliberately controlled voice:

“You must forgive my fiance, he hails from a country estate you see; he isn’t accustomed to the way things work here yet. If you would be so kind as to excuse us for just a moment so that I may explain a few things?” Not waiting for an answer, the earl stood and held out his hand for Roman to take. “If you would step into the hall with me, dearest?”

Recognizing the order under the request, Roman stood quickly and took Lord Howard’s hand, wincing at how tightly he was gripped and practically dragged out of the room. The door was opened just a bit too forcefully to calm his nerves in the slightest and he watched as Lord Howard seemed to barely refrain from slamming it back closed, instead closing it with deliberate calm before whirling around to face him and jerking his hand out of Roman’s to tower before him.

“Let me make this perfectly clear, you do not speak out of turn in these meetings. You do not speak above me or-”

“But I didn’t! I was only-” Roman didn’t register what the dull smacking sound echoing in his ears and making them ring was until pain bloomed and spread from his lower jaw to his entire cheek. Raising his hand to his face in disbelief, he felt a bit of wetness and looked to see blood on his fingertips. Fear and horror twisted in his gut as he realized one of Lord Howard’s rings must have caught on his cheek and opened a cut. His jaw ached and his teeth felt numb; the blow had been hard enough to rattle them in his skull. Romans looked up and flinched as he saw Howard’s hand still raised to strike should he choose to speak again, and he shrunk in on himself in an attempt to seem too small to expend more energy on.

“You,” The earl spat, “do not speak above me, or make suggestions on my behalf. You are not here to offer up useless opinions that were not asked for or needed. You were brought into that room to sit obediently and look pretty on my arm and that is the full extent that your role will ever be. Have I made myself clear?”

Roman hesitated for just a second too long, and Lord Howard reached down to grip his chin, tipping his head so he had no choice but to look his assailant directly in the eyes. “My dear, I believe I asked you a question, and I expect an answer.”

Biting back a whimper Roman nodded as much as he could with his face trapped in the steely grip. “Yes my lord, I understand perfectly. I apologize for overstepping, it won’t happen again.”

The answer, as demeaning as it had felt to say, seemed to appease the still seething man, and Howard dropped his chin and stepped back with a wolfish smile.

“Very good, see to it that it doesn’t. Now, I believe we’ve been here long enough. If you’re done blubbering, you may join me.”

Startling a bit at the choice of phrasing, Roman hesitantly reached up to touch his face, wincing as he realized there was more than just blood on his cheeks. Taking a deep breath, he carefully wiped the tears away before plastering on a small smile and moving to stand just behind the earl. He was loath to go back into the room like this, humiliation and blood reddening his cheeks, but he didn’t dare speak up for fear of more punishment. As Lord Howard opened the door and moved back to his place at the head of the table, he hardly spared Roman another glance, and Roman had no choice but to meekly follow.

Sitting down, Roman realized most of the people at the table were staring at him like one would a fresh kill, their expressions a mixture of pity and approval while they averted their eyes. Sinking down even lower as the meeting resumed, he realized this was to be the second part of his punishment. He was to learn and remember his role as Lord Howard’s betrothed and eventual husband. Sit still and look pretty, step a toe out of line and be punished, and make sure everyone in the room knew that the power held over him was just as absolute as the power the earl held over everything else.

“I’m pleased to know some people still know how to keep common folk in line. Truly, the disrespect-” Roman’s ears rang as someone close by whispered to another just loud enough for him to overhear, making him want to sink down even lower and let the floor swallow him.

The meeting continued on for what seemed like forever, but unlike before, Roman didn’t absorb a single word of what was said. The voices of the other lords washed over him as he sat as still as he could, hands clenched in his lap to keep them from trembling. When at last Lord Howard stood, Roman almost stood up next to him, but caught himself just in time and sent a questioning glance up at his fiance.

Lord Howard’s lips curled into a smile, and he held his arm out to Roman in invitation. Roman swallowed down his revulsion and stood, slipping his arm into the earl’s and schooling his face into a pretty smile. Lord Howard covered Roman’s hand with his own, and Roman’s skin burned at the touch.

“Well gentlemen, this concludes our discussion for the day, I do thank you all for coming.”

One by one the nobles stood, nodding to Lord Howard as they filed out of the room. Roman’s cheeks heated as several of them swept their eyes over him as they passed, their gazes lingering on the bruise blooming on his face. When at last, every one of them was gone, Lord Howard turned his attention to Roman, all false pleasantries gone from his expression.

“I trust that after today, any...confusion about your role here has been cleared up?” he asked, his voice low and dangerous.

“Yes, my lord,” Roman whispered, and the earl smiled.

“Good. Now go clean yourself up. Dinner is at seven o’clock sharp, and I expect you to look presentable.”

“Yes, my lord,” Roman repeated, and as soon as Lord Howard dropped his arm, he practically bolted from the room.

He hurried through the corridors of the mansion, head down and eyes stinging. When he finally reached his room, he all but slammed the door behind him, and collapsed to the floor, his shoulders shaking as he released the sob he’d been holding back for the past hour.

He let himself cry, for how long, he wasn’t sure, not only for the sting on his cheek and the shame that came with it, but for every doubt, every grief, every pain that he’d pushed down and bottled up over the past month.

After everything he’d been through, everything he’d sacrificed, was this really his fate? Chained forever to a man who only saw him as something to own, to display, to use...

Roman lifted his head slowly.

“Remember all that we've taught you, and you'll do fine."

His father had taught him everything he knew about business, about politics, about matters of the state. He knew how to act with decorum, how to spot an opportunity, and how to charm a room while negotiating, all thanks to his father’s teachings.

But now, with tears running down his face and a bruise blossoming on his cheek, he remembered another set of lessons.

Lessons his mother had given him as a teenager, after time had run its course and he was no longer the slightly awkward, gangly kid he had once been.

“You’ve grown into a handsome young man,” his mother had said to him on his eighteenth birthday. “Your father believes that when you are married, it will be purely for political reasons. You need to know that this may not be the case.”

Roman had tried to forget the lessons his mother had passed down to him, had told himself that he would never need them...but here he was, sobbing on the floor, the first of what he knew would be many marks on his skin if he didn’t tread carefully.

Roman learned everything he knew about running an estate from his father, but he learned everything about acting from his mother. Thanks to her, he knew how to conceal his emotions, how to smile when his stomach rolled over and how to sigh when his skin burned. He knew how to mold himself into the perfect husband, because if he did not let himself be molded he would find himself broken before it was too late.

“Too late for what, mother?” the younger him had asked, eyes wide and horrified, and she’d smiled in a way he’d never seen before.

“Did I ever tell you the story of how your grandfather died?”

Roman knew what situations were most likely to result in “accidents,” what weapons were easily concealed and what poisons were difficult to detect. He knew how to pluck a nose hair to bring tears to his eyes and slap his cheeks so they appeared flushed. He knew how to appear calm and collected when he was suffering, and how to appear stricken with grief when all he felt was relief.

He had been preparing for marriage his whole life...every kind of marriage. And now that he knew the kind of husband that Lord Howard really wanted, he knew exactly what kind of husband he was going to be.

Even if he wouldn’t be one for very long.

--- --- ---

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#sanders sides #ts fanfic #sanders sides fanfiction #roman sanders #logan sanders #patton sanders #virgil sanders #logince #moxiety #you don't own me #my writing #abuse tw

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missskzbiased · 3 years

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Eggy First Date

Summary: You can’t seem to catch a break this week. You’ve run out of eggs, visibly stained your living room carpet with grape juice, and worst of all: your laundry machine has broken down. Such an event has resulted in you awkwardly shuffling your dirty clothes to the nearest laundromat, but hey, at least the boy using the machine next to you is cute!

WC: 2,3 K

Requested: By Stayndays <3 Thank you, Buddy!

Genre: Slice of Life, Fluff, Humor (?)

AUs: College, (Implied) Classmates to Lovers, Crushes, Kinda Friends to Lovers

Pairing: Yang Jeongin X GN! Reader

Rebloggable Masterlist // Main Masterlist

Warnings: Mentions of food, Language (Crap/Shit)

////

Yep… Turns out it’s impossible to fix one’s life in a few hours.

You should have known better than letting everything pile up like that, but now it was a little bit too late to be sorry. As your phone insisted on reminding you ─ alarm shouting for anyone to hear ─, your parents should arrive at your apartment in about two hours. It didn’t sound too bad when you put it like this, but when you think in perspective, it’s kinda easy to see why you’re screwed up…

The first problem: You have no eggs.

It may not sound that alarming, but you promised your mom to flex your culinary skills and bake her favorite cake as soon as she came to visit you. Funnily enough, when you tried to fix some scrambled eggs on Tuesday ─ a hopeful attempt to eat anything other than cup noodles ─ you had to drop half of them to your recently cleaned floor. In other words, not only you had to clean your floor again but you also had only four eggs to make your lunch and survive the week… Which meant you ran out of eggs by Wednesday.

Now, you didn’t have to be a genius to know that having no eggs meant no favorite cake for your mom… And as much as having no cake didn’t sound like the end of the world, it was only the beginning. No cake meant questions, and questions meant answers, and answers meant you would have to either tell them the truth or lie to them… Unfortunately, you couldn’t tell them the truth or else you would expose your Thursday’s mistake, but we’ll get to that later.

That being said, you were left with two options: Lie to them ─ and risk being caught ─ or buy fresh eggs to bake her a cake. It was needless to say that you went with the last one. However, by Wednesday night ─ when, despite having no eggs, you had finals to worry about ─, buying your groceries after your exams, on Friday, sounded like the perfect plan. And it kinda was… At least for the next 24H that followed it, before you managed to screw everything up on Thursday.

The second problem: Grape juice.

You were stressed out, alright?! You had only one more day to go with your exams and it may or may not have gotten to your head. So drinking grape juice on the couch ─ since you had no actual food to eat and have been feeding on liquids ─ while watching a 20 minutes episode of Brooklyn 99 was a good way to relax. Perhaps, you should act more like the nonfunctional college student that you were. This way, you would be studying in your room instead of missing the coffee table as you laughed; spilling your juice on the carpet.

Of course, it couldn’t be a normal carpet that was totally replaceable… No, it had to be the very own carpet your grandma gifted to your father when he moved out… It happened to be the same one her mother gave to her when she moved out as well! Of course, it had to be this one and not the stupid carpet on your bathroom that meant absolutely nothing. It had to be the carpet your father gifted to you while saying that this new journey full of responsibilities ─ also called miserable college life ─ would be blessed by your previous generations or whatever!

Basically, you just drowned your whole family in cheap juice that tasted like purple! Because of a joke! A joke that wasn’t even that good! It definitely wasn’t worth it.

Whatever was the necessary skill to remove a stain from a carpet, you didn’t have it. And you didn’t have the time to learn it either. So, as a desperate student, you did the best you could: Blot the liquid with a wet cloth, pour about half of the ocean over the spot, mix the most random stuff you had, soak the carpet overnight, and go off to sleep so you wouldn’t botch your finals.

The third problem: The Rise of the Machines.

When you got home after your exams ─ no eggs, ‘cause your mind was too focused on saving the carpet ─, you were still hopeful that everything was going to be okay. The Internet blessed you with the ultimate knowledge to remove any stains from a sacred carpet and you followed each step as if your life depended on it. Because it did. You did such an amazing job that the spotless area turned into a clean spot on the dirty carpet… And that, dearest friends, was the real problem.

It was exactly 10:27 PM when you decided to shove your carpet into the washing machine and go downstairs to buy a burger on your friend’s stand. It was about 11:13 PM when you got back to your place, happily fed and unworried about your life. It took you less than a minute to have all of your happiness fading away as you saw that the foam spilled over the floor, bringing you a sad realization: Your washing machine had failed you.

In other words, you had a damp, dirty carpet to save, a dozen eggs to buy, a cake to bake, and a lie to keep in the next… Twelve hours or something. And you needed to sleep for at least half of that time. But that was okay! Everything was fine… You had six hours to fix your entire life tomorrow, right? Yeah… Except that not really, no. Because obviously ─ how didn’t you see that coming? ─, your phone had decided to not wake you up the next morning.

The fourth problem: Your parents.

The two hours ahead of you could mean twenty minutes or even a second… Knowing your parents, they could be standing right in front of your door, ringing your bell and asking themselves why you weren’t home. The answer would be because you were at the laundromat next to your building, which wasn’t the cheapest one but it was the closest thing you had to a miracle right now. Well, it would be, if the washing machine actually gave a shit about your struggles.

As the water slowly spilled over your carpet ─ instead of being gushed to soak the damn thing ─, you let your shoulders drop and a sigh escape from your lips. You didn’t know if you felt more relieved for finally having things working out or defeated for having to go through all of this. The exhausted eyes you met in your reflection were a good hint, though, and you got closer to the glass door to rest your forehead on the cold surface and take a small break. At least ─ as long as your parents didn’t arrive before the drying cycle ─, they would never know about the truth and everything should be just fine… You wouldn’t need to worry about being kicked out from the family.

“Crap” You grumbled, mindlessly knocking your head on the door on repeat.

“Tough day, huh?” The soft voice was familiar, but the warm hand preventing you from hitting the glass again wasn’t. You frowned before turning to check if you weren’t going crazy. To your misfortune, the cute boy smiling sympathetically at you was exactly who you thought it was “That’s bad for you” He pointed out, chuckling as he watched you snapping your head away from his hand.

“Hey!” You blurted; face burning to the thought of him seeing you like this. Why everything had to go so wrong in your life?! Why did Jeongin have to see you wearing the most sloppy outfit you could ever wear? Your hands flew to your hair to try and fix the nest on top of your head “What’s up?” You huffed playfully; hitting his shoulder lightly in the most unnatural way that you could.

Way to go, Y/N! Humiliate yourself in front of your crush!

“Just washing some stuff” He shrugged, pointing to the machine next to yours, “You don’t usually come here, though… Well, at least, I never saw you here before” He mused, arching his brow “Are you following me around now?” He whispered teasingly, cupping his hand around his mouth as he smirked at you.

“What?! No!” You panicked, widening your eyes and floundering your hands in the air “I’m not, I swear!” You insisted as he stared at you mockingly, “If anything you’re the one following me! I live nearby! Where do you live?! Is it even close?!” You defended yourself vehemently; poking his chest as you visibly lost your mind.

“I’m joking, jeez!” He chortled, rubbing his torso “Calm down, Y/N… It’s your neighborhood, I know” He reassured you, squeezing your shoulder and chuckling as you relaxed under his touch “I was just trying to make you feel better” He explained; hand sliding to pat your back “What’s up? Did you mess up on your exams?” Jeongin asked; tone wandering around curiosity and worry.

“No… I did just fine” You sighed; getting him to tilt his head in confusion ─ he’s so cute scrunching his nose like this! ─ while you smiled at him, getting back to your senses.

It was just Jeongin, for Lord’s sake… He was your classmate! He had seen you look way worse than this before, if you were being honest. Which wasn’t that reassuring now that you think about it… But anyway! He had seen you drooling all over your desk, and snoring, and looking like a zombie! There was nothing to worry about… Even if he kinda is really cute and you kinda have a crush on him.

“Wanna talk about it?” He offered friendly. Did he really have to be this kind and bubbly while smiling at you? Couldn’t he be a little bit less cute? Or just look like a normal human being while doing his laundry? Like having messy hair… Or messy clothes… Or dark circles under his eyes… Or just not look this fresh and perfect and… “Y/N?” He called unsurely, waving his hand in front of your eyes.

“Sorry” You rushed to say, ducking your head between your shoulders “I... I mean, there’s a lot going on in my mind now” It wasn’t exactly a lie, but it wasn’t quite the truth. You were just thinking about him, but he didn’t need to know that, “Mom and Dad are going to come and visit me today… I promised to bake her a cake, but I ran out of eggs” Now you were just spilling whatever was on your mind, hm? It probably didn’t even make sense for him.

“And you thought doing your laundry could get you some?” He joked confusedly, laughing as you pouted at him.

“No…” You whined, kicking him lightly “I knocked my grape juice on the family’s sacred carpet… So I’m trying to make it look okay or else my dad is going to kill me” You explained further, pinching the bridge of your nose “But they’re coming and I still have to buy those damn eggs, and bake this damn cake, and wash this damn—”

“Hey, hey” He shushed you, holding both of your shoulders to prompt you to look into his eyes. They held a thousand million stars… But that wasn’t really the point “Everything’s good, okay? Why don’t we go to buy some eggs, then you go and bake your cake?” He suggested calmly, massaging your skin as he smiled reassuringly “I can take care of your laundry… Mine is here anyway” He chuckled, seeing the way your eyes lit up to his plan “I can get it to your house before they get there… They’ll never know” He promised.

“No way” You chirped; hands jolting to his face and grabbing his cheeks firmly “Jeongin” You said seriously; eyes unwavering as you stared right into his “You’re my hero” You stated matter-of-factly, enticing a wide grin from him “I owe you my life, I mean it” You concluded, quickly letting go of his face.

What were you doing?!

“Ask me on a date and we’re even” He joked.

“Don’t be silly” You rolled your eyes, pretending not to be affected by his friendly banter.

“Fair enough… So go out with me on a date and we’re even” He smirked; eyes glinting amusedly as you let your mouth fall agape to his request. You took a while to react properly, and the growing silence seemed to get into Jeongin’s head, “I mean… I’d like to if that’s okay with you…” He shrugged, gulping down nervously “I’ve been wanting to… I was going to ask… I was just waiting for…” He floundered, clearing his throat to make it less obvious.

“Well, if it makes us even…” You fought back your smile, watching as his anxiety dissolved into relief before he beamed at you “I guess I’d love to go on a date with you...” He laughed wholeheartedly, taking your hands in his “What about next week?” You suggested coyly, enjoying the warmth of his touch.

“What about now?” He grinned like a fox.

“Have you listened to what I said before?” You chortled “I have to buy some eggs and –” You began to enumerate on your fingers, but he giggled playfully, interrupting you.

“You know what’s funny?” He smirked “My dream was to buy some eggs with you as a first date… I don’t think we’ll ever get this chance again” The corner of his lips twitched; dimples showing as he looked fondly at you “Shall we?” He asked in mocking politeness, extending his arm for you to take.

“I must say you have such a weird taste…” You hummed, studying his extended arm amusedly “But you’re cute, so it’s all forgiven” You shrugged, chuckling as he locked his arm with yours and took the lead to find a grocery store nearby.

#skz fanfics #skz x reader #skz fluff #kpopcatalog #districtninewriters #stray kids fanfics #jeongin x reader #stray kids fluff #stray kids x reader #skz scenarios #skz imagines #stray kids scenarios #stray kids imagines #jeongin fanfic #jeongin fluff #jeongin imagines #jeongin scenarios

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morosemagick · 3 years

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Listen, Before I Go | Finan x Reader One Shot

Welcome to my first one shot/first Reader!Fic.

Be gentle, I'm trash.

Warning: Major Character Death, (its sad, okay, idk what else to say.)

Words: 3847

Tagged:

@solinarimoon @lauwrite1225

You had seen many things in your life as a traveling healer. Wounds and illnesses alike, taking you from place to place wherever people may need you. Taking care of people was in your blood. Both your parents were healers, and you planned on using all they taught you to care for people around the world. And yet, when you met Uhtred of Bebbanburg and his crew of accident-prone warriors in the aftermath of the battle at Tettenhall, something inside you told you to stay. A feeling in your heart, telling you that no one will ever need you more than they would. Over the months that passed, that feeling proved true. You healed every cut, bruise, and battle wound they would come to acquire. Each wound healed was a bond growing stronger with each man in Uhtred’s service, including your lord himself.

Osferth, the first of the Coccham boys you healed. His kindness was always warming to the heart. Sihtric, who spoke often of his wife and joked about his desire to return to her in one piece. And of course, Finan, whose laugh made your heart skip a beat and smile did things to you that was certainly ungodly. They were your family, and you loved them all dearly.

And you would do whatever it took to save their lives.

Especially now, when they needed you most.

“Sihtric!” You scream out at the sight of him, bloody and broken. The snow falls thick and heavy around you, stained red with the Danish man’s blood and Osferth and Finan work together to lift him from the ground.

“We got him, Y/N, just go!” Finan yells out, and you nod okay. The storm is picking up and though the raiders that ambushed you are dead, none of you are out of the woods yet.

Up ahead is a cave. It’s cold and dark but it’s dry, and getting Sihtric out of the storm is your main priority.

“This way, to the cave!” You call out as you lead the men forward, being sure to check for any unfriendly creatures that might be hiding out from the storm inside. When the coast is clear, you wave the others on.

As carefully as they can, Osferth and Finan lower Sihtric to the ground. The injured warrior groaned as he touched the ground, “We need to make a fire.” Finan tells the rest of you.

“Did anyone see Lord Uhtred?” Osferth questions, making you and Finan glance at each other.

You shake your head no, and then Finan looks back to Osferth, “He must be with Lady Aethelflaed.”

“Should we look for them-”

“We can’t,” Finan cuts him off, sighing, “We must stick together, make a fire, and take care of Sihtric.”

“I will tend to Sihtric,” You tell them, “Go get what you need for a fire but please stay close, this storm is only getting worse, and finding your way back might get harder.”

Finan nods okay, and the two men leave as you bend down to check up on Sihtric. He’s breathing heavy but he’s still alert so that has you at ease. Checking his wound on his side, it doesn’t seem bad but it will definitely need stitching. His skin, however, is freezing to the touch and that makes you nervous, “That bad?” Sihtric chuckles the best he can, his eyes looking so very tired.

“Not at all, you needed stitches. That’s all,” You tell him as you look through the pouch tied to your belt.

“You are a bad liar, Y/N,” He huffs, looking up to the ceiling of the cave, “Tell me, please.”

Biting your lip, you sigh and glance away, “You're freezing, you need fire or you may get sick.”

“I could have told you that,” He laughs but the motion makes his side hurt and his laughter turns to a wince.

“You must rest, Sihtric, please,” You tell him as you find your needle and thread, “Eahlswith will not forgive you if you do not make it home in one piece, remember?”

“Ealhswith,” He smiles slightly, and then grunts as you start to clean the wound, “I miss her.”

“And you will see her soon, I promise,” Glancing up, you can see fear in Sihtrics eyes, and it breaks your heart, “I swear it, Sihtric.”

He only nods, and you continue to care for him in silence.

------------------------------------<3---------------------------------------

Time has passed, and the fire has been made, but it’s small and just barely enough to keep you all comfortable so to make up for the lack of heat you all huddle close to each other. You are to Sihtric’s left, Finan is to yours, and Osferth is on the other side of Sihtric. Sihtric’s wound was cleaned well but he is still very cold and you’re trying your best not to show how worried you are. As you take a deep breath, you let out a shiver and it shakes your whole body.

Noticing how cold you are, Finan scoots closer and wraps his arms around yours and holding it tight, “You alright, Y/N?”

You glance momentarily at Sihtric, who's currently half awake with his head on your shoulder and his eyes on the fire ahead of them, and then look back at Finan, “I am.”

It’s a lie. You’re terrified.

Terrified of losing your friends, of dying to the cold, but mostly you’re terrified of not being able to keep the oath you made to Lord Uhtred and yourself to keep them all safe. It’s killing you inside.

Sihtric is shivering to your right, his cold body against yours sending chills down your spine.

“Alright there, Sihtric?” You ask him, though you know the answer. Instead of staying strong, you can feel him shake his head no. His fear brings a tear to your eyes, “It’ll be okay.”

“It will not,” Sihtric whispers, making everyone else suddenly alert to how beaten he’s feeling.

“It will be, Sihtric, we will get out of this mess like we have every other mess Uhtred has gotten us into,” Finan tries to joke in an attempt to keep everyone’s spirit up.

“Uhtred isn’t even here,” Sihtric tells him, his head still rested on your shoulder, “We might never see him again. I might not-”

“We are getting out of here,” Osferth adds, “God will see us through this.”

“He is not my God, Osferth, he does not care if I live or die,” Sihtric argues.

None of you have seen him so defeated before.

“Hey, hey, look at me,” You tell Sihtric as you turn your body to face him, forcing him to lift his head up. You can tell it’s a struggle for him to hold himself up, and it’s hard for you to keep a calm expression. You grab Sihtric by his face and put on your best smile, but your eyes are still watering and the wind outside has made it so unbearably cold; so at this point, you don’t know if you have it in your heart to lie to him. So you don’t, “I know you are cold, and you hurt, but I will do whatever it takes to make sure you get home to Coccham. To your wife, and to your son.”

Sihtric nods okay, but his eyes tell another story as he starts to cry.

Past his shoulder, you can see Osferth is also looking mighty defeated as his own eyes start to get red, and behind you, Finan’s hand has gripped your cloak and tight.

And then, to make matters worse, the fire dies.

“Fucking bastard fire!” Finan growls loudly as he kicks the still hot wood with his foot, making soot spread, “Fuck!” His scream echoes throughout the cave as he gets up and stomps around in anger, and you look away from Sihtric as you start to cry, biting your lip in hopes of keeping your fear to yourself.

On the tips of your fingers, you feel Sihtric’s tears falling down.

“Finan, sit... please,” Osferth calls out, and you can hear his voice cracking, “Being angry will solve nothing.”

Sihtrics’ crying has worsened, and now they can all hear him.

You pull him closer to you, cuddling him like a child in your arms, trying your best to keep him warm. His sobbing is enough to shake you both, but you keep your grip on him strong. Osferth scoots his body closer to Sihtrics, putting his arm around his brother, and to your left, you can hear Finan return to his seat. After a moment or two, you can feel his arms wrap around your waist and hold you tight.

At least if you die, it will be next to those you love the most.

The four of you sit this way in silence for some time, the only things you can hear are Sihtric crying and the strong snowy winds blowing outside the cave. You have never been a very religious person, but at that moment you find yourself praying to every god you can think of to save the ones you love.

A moment later you hear Sihtric sniffle, and shuffle a bit in your arms before he sighs and speaks, “Y/N?”

“Yes?”

“Can you sing for us?” He asks, and you nod yes.

If you can bring him comfort now, in what very well might be his final hours, you will do whatever he wishes.

“Take me to the rooftop. I wanna see the world when I stop breathing. Turning blue,” You rest your cheek on top of Sihtric’s head, and your eyes glance away as you continue, “Tell me, love is endless, don't be so pretentious. Leave me, like you do. If you need me, wanna see me, better hurry 'Cause I'm leaving soon,” There's sniffling in the air as you sing, you can hear Osferth shuffling, probably to get closer to Sihtric, and you can feel Finan’s arms grip you tighter. “Sorry, can't save me now. Sorry, I don't know how. Sorry, there's no way out but down, mm down.”

You move your left hand down to where Finan is holding you tight, and he moves to grab it, squeezing it as best he can. His hand is lacking a glove, and yet you can feel his warmth.

You hold on to that feeling as you continue singing, “Taste me, the salty tears on my cheek. That's what a year-long headache does to you. I'm not okay, I feel so scattered, don't say I'm all that matters. Leave me. Deja vu. If you need me, wanna see me, you better hurry. I'm leaving soon,” Finan’s head is on your shoulder, you can feel his breath on your neck. It makes you think of all the times you should’ve kissed him. You should have told him. Probably too late for that now, though, “Sorry, can't save me now. Sorry, I don't know how. Sorry, there's no way out, but down, mm down. Write my friends and tell them that I love them. And I'll miss them... but I'm not sorry. Write my friends and tell them that I love them, and I'll miss them…”

Sorry.

------------------------------------<3---------------------------------------

The men have been asleep for some now, but you’re still awake. You have been staring at Sihtric all night, watching his chest rise and fall. Making sure his chest still rises and falls. A couple of times you’ve even put your fingers to his lips to make certain that he’s still breathing. Anything to make sure he’ll survive through the night. On the other side of him, Osferth is sound asleep, you can hear the man snore just slightly, and see him cuddled against Sihtric’s side.

The inside of this cave is freezing but you know it’s better than being out in the storm.

“Y/N?” You hear Finan whisper, “Are you up?”

“I am,” You whisper back, your fingers hovering just above Sihtric’s lips. Still breathing, good. You roll over slowly to not wake him, and when you are facing Finan, you sigh, “He is still alive, thank God.”

“Do you think he’ll make it?” Finan asks quietly, his eyes a red mess.

You shrug, not wanting to lie right now, “I do not know, Finan,” You shake your head, and the tears are building in your eyes again and your next words barely make it out, “I fear the worst.”

The tears fall down your cheeks and you try your best to not cry too loudly because you fear waking them more than you do crying in front of the man who’s stolen your heart. Finan reaches out to hold you by your cheeks and you can feel how warm he is still, it’s not much but enough to feel wonderful against your cold face as you cry. He shuffles his body closer to you, and you can feel his breath on your face as you open your eyes.

You don’t want to die without him knowing how he makes you feel. How he makes your heart flutter. How he fills you with so much life.

How loved he makes you feel.

“Finan- I need to tell you something,” You get yourself ready to say the words, but he stops you with his finger on your lips.

“Tell me in the morning, Y/N,” He’s smiling, but his eyes are red and full of tears.

“But what if we don’t make it to morning?” Your voice cracks, and instead of answering Finan leans in and kisses you. It’s warm and delicious, and you want to kick yourself that it’s only happening now when you might not live to see another day because your body is cold but kissing Finan now fills your soul with so much warmth.

Perhaps this wouldn’t be a terrible way to die.

The two of you stay like that for a while, and you're trying your best to etch every inch of him into your mind as he pulls you in closer by the way to deepen the kiss. It’s everything you’ve ever wanted. It’s like coming home, and when you finally break apart the content smile on his face says he feels the same.

Finan leans back in, kissing your face over and over again. Making sure to kiss away all the tears that have stained your cheeks and then finding his way to your neck, “If I didn’t fear waking them, I’d pull my cock from my trousers and warm you with that.”

You try to bite your lip to contain your laughter, but a snicker comes out anyway, “I’m sure that is that last thing either of them would like to see now.”

“Aye, but what a sight it would be,” He smirks, leaning in for another kiss, “But If I’m going to bed you, Y/N, it will be properly I swear it.”

“I will hold you to that,” You tell him with another kiss, and as you move to separate you can see the expression on his face shift and the mood become more somber, "We should try to sleep. We need our energy."

"You sleep, I'll keep watch," Finan tells you, kissing your forehead.

"Nothing is going to hurt us here but the cold," You try to tell him, "Please try to sleep, Finan."

"I will, Y/N, let me just hold you for a while," Finan nods for you to turn around and you comply, and a moment later his arms are around your waist again and he's kissing behind your ear. Then, barely a whisper and more like wind, you can hear him say something in your ear, "Tá grá agam duit."

It's the last thing you hear before you fall asleep.

------------------------------------<3---------------------------------------

You wake from your sleep in a cold sweat, your heart racing as you rise quickly from the ground. The first thing you do is turn your body to your right to check on Sihtric, and to your surprise you find him sitting up and wide awake.

It brings tears to your eyes.

"Oh thank God," You can't help but say at the sight of him.

Sihtric smiles slightly. He looks tired, but he's alive and that's all the matters, "Good morning, Y/N."

"How are you feeling?" You ask as you lean over to put the back of your hand on his forehead. He's warmer than he was last night, which is a good sign, "Warmer? Is your wound okay?"

"Looks like you did it again, Y/N," Osferth calls out as he enters the cave with firewood in his hand, "Told you you’d be okay." Osferth drops the wood where the original fire once sat and then walks over to Sihtric and ruffles his hair, "Lord Uhtred will be pleased."

You chuckle, wiping your face of tears, and then suddenly you remember last night and Finan.

With a smile still on your face you turn to your left, where you can see his body still lying there, "Finan, it's morning-" the moment you put your hand on him your smile fades and your heart drops as you notice something very important. His fur cloak isn't on his body, but on yours and Finan is cold, "Finan?" You shake his shoulder as you call his name, the frantic sound of your voice getting the other’s attention, "Finan!"

Osferth rushes to your side just as you turn him on his back, and you place your fingers to his lips and can barely feel a thing. Osferth, however, has his hand on Finan’s forehead, "He's burning up."

"I cannot feel his breath," You tell Osferth as the tears hit you quick, and your breathing is all over the place, "Finan, come on, please-" you start to pump at his chest to get his heart moving, breathing into his mouth to help him get air. You do both this over and over again, trying not to let the sobbing stop you, "Come on, Finan, please!"

"Y/N?" You can hear Sihtric's voice question you from where he sits, the sound of fear clear.

You keep going, refusing to give up on him. Thinking about the other night.

You still haven't told him-

"Y/N," Osferth calls to you, but you do not stop, "Y/N," He tries pulling you away, but you keep going, and going, but now Osferth is pulling a little harder, "Y/N, please-"

And just as Osferth is about to tell you to stop, Finan starts to gasp for air and your heart can beat again, "God, thank you," you cry as you pull Finan close to you, taking off the cloak he gave you in the night and putting it back around his body. He's breathing lightly, but he's breathing so that's good enough for now, "You're okay, Finan, you're okay." He lifts his hand up to grab yours and you place a kiss on the top of his head.

“It seems your God is with us, Osferth,” Sihtric chuckles from behind them, making you and Osferth look back at him with a smile.

“We need to get out of this cave,” Osferth smiles, patting your shoulder as he rises to his feet.

“Why, when you’ve seemed to have made it home?” The voice from behind you has you all turning heads, a shocked and pleased look on your faces when you see Lord Uhtred has found you, “Y/N, what have you done to my men? They look awful.”

You laugh in relief at the sight of him. It seems all the Gods have heard your prayer.

------------------------------------<3---------------------------------------

You all get home to Coccham in one piece, and you’ve never been happier to see your little home in your whole life. They leave Finan with you so you can watch him recover, and you do not mind giving the Irishman your bed. It’ll take him a few days to heal, and after everything that has happened, you’d prefer to keep a close watch on him. Sihtric and Ealhswith stop by to visit, partially so you check on Sihtric and partially so Ealthswith can thank you with meals for bringing her husband home.

Osferth and Lord Uhtred stop by as well. Finan isn’t always awake so they usually sit by his side for a while. Osferth prays and you think Uhtred might too.

You are cooking dinner one evening when you hear movement in your bedroom, and the sound of something falling over. You immediately rush to the other room to find that Finan is trying to sit up, and has knocked a cup of water to the floor.

“What do you think you're doing?” You giggle as he leans back down, feeling grateful to see him awake.

“If you wanted me in your bed, Y/N, you only needed to ask,” Finan jokes as you walk closer to him, sitting at the edge of the bed, “What happened?”

“You’re a fool, that’s what happened,” You tell him as you put your hand to his forehead and he is no longer burning, which is good, “You had a fever, almost froze to death,” Your smile fades as you take a deep breath, “I thought I lost you for a moment…”

“A fever?” He questioned, looking generally lost, “I don’t remember a fever,” He reaches out and takes your hand, gently rubbing your knuckles, “But I do remember some things. You were going to tell me something, were you not?”

You smile and lean down to kiss his forehead, “I’ll tell you when you're out of this bed.”

Finan laughs, using his other hand to reach out and hold you close from your neck, “Will you now?”

“You have promises you have to make good on first,” Your smirk as you lean in closer.

“Oh and I plan on making good of them, Y/N,” Finan tells you in a low voice that makes you squirm.

You chuckle as you lean in even closer, “God is good.”

“Aye,” He smirks as he hovers over your lips, “Praise him.”

Oh, you do. You thank him later that night in bed as you ride him and Finan makes good on his promise to warm you. A bed that Finan ends up never leaving and now you share together. You praise him on your wedding day, and multiple times on your wedding night. You praise him a few months later when you find yourself pregnant with your firstborn, and again when you give birth to your first son. You thank God for every child you have after, and every moment with this family of yours; made and found, that you decided to stay in Coccham and make it your home.

You thank God, all the Gods, for every moment they bless you with.

Even once your husband passes on.

And one day, when you're old, tired, and lying in the grass surrounded by the ones you love most you thank him one last time; before you go, for blessing you with such a life.

Grateful to go out under the heat sun, taking in the world one last time.

#finan x reader #one shot #angst #we here to get sad kids #character death #the last kingdom #tlk #finan the agile #tlk finan #fanfic #fanfiction #mcloveproductions

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badfvith · 4 years

Text

burning to the ground | draco malfoy

Request: love your draco work 😍so requesting something where you’re a Weasley and dating draco set in the half blood prince where the borrow sets on fire. where draco apparates to the burrow to tell you to get out because he knows Bellatrix is coming but your family don’t know that you’re dating. just imagining family angst but a really scared and afraid draco 💖💞 A/N: okay so i freaking LOVED this request. i seriously think this might be one of my favorite pieces i’ve written. the end makes me 🥺 (all of yall out there like me who have seen the movies 80 million times will hopefully understand) i hope you like this!!! 💓 warnings: a bit angsty but i promise it’s also fluffy too dw word count: 1786

Christmas. The most wonderful time of the year. Or so they say.

This Christmas was hosted at your house, “the burrow” as everyone called it. You didn’t have much being 1/8 Weasley children, but what you did have was an overwhelming sense of family and love. Your mom decided it was only fitting to invite Remus and Tonks, and of course Harry (who was basically another one of your brothers at this point) as he had been staying with all of you for the year.

This Christmas was different than all the others. Conversations were less about trying to guess what gifts everyone got each other and more about what they thought the Death Eaters’ next moves were. It was obvious that everyone was on edge.

You all walked your guests out at the end of the night. You were leading the pack, and stopped on the porch to hug Remus and Tonks goodbye.

“It was delicious Molly, really.” You heard Tonks say and turned around to see her hugging your mom. Your focus then turned from that sweet moment to a very distressed looking Remus staring out at the landscape ahead. You had to admit, the front of your house looked a bit intimidating in the darkness and the slow breeze swaying the weeds near the water, but nothing too horrifying that it would cause this sort of reaction from Remus.

“What is it sweetheart?” You heard Tonks say softly, putting a hand on his arm. He shook his head briefly but didn’t respond.

You took a few steps forward to get a better look at what Remus might’ve been eyeing, the floor boards creaking underneath your feet. You heard some shuffling around behind you and saw that Harry and Ron had now made their way outside as well, standing closely behind you.

“Sorry ‘bout that.” Remus said, finally breaking the tense silence. “We should go.”

“Thank you again for everything.” Tonks said waving to us. I gave her a smile and the two of them took each other’s hands and started to walk away.

“Alright. Let’s all go inside then.” Your mom said hurriedly.

You heard everyone moving behind you, but you stood still where you were.

“(y/n)! Let’s go!” Ron yelled.

You turned around and waved him off. “I’ll be there in a second.”

“Whatever.” He replied.

After a few more minutes of staring out into the darkness, you convinced yourself that both you and Remus were crazy and that there was nothing there. You took one last good look before turning around to go back inside.

“(y/n)!” You froze. Nope. There is no way this is happening. All night long everyone has been freaked out over Death Eaters and the second you turn around an unknown voice calls your name? You took a deep breath, in which you prepared yourself for death. Why didn’t you go inside when Ron called you?

You slowly turned around, expecting to see Voldemort himself pointing his wand at you. Instead you were met with the all too familiar platinum blonde hair, all black suit, and worried expression of your boyfriend Draco.

You felt a rollercoaster of emotions swim through your brain and your body. A choked half laugh half cry left your throat as you stared at him, wide eyed.

“(y/n)...” He said quietly, for the second time that night.

“Draco.” You replied, before slowly walking towards him and practically falling into his embrace.

This year had been tough for Draco and for your relationship. The beginning of year was...an undertaking to say the least, with Draco keeping you completely in the dark about his father, his family, and his commitments to the Dark Lord. However finally one day he broke down and told you everything which ended in an entire night of cuddles, tears, “i’m so sorrys” and “it’s not your faults.” You have never loved anyone like you loved Draco, and you knew he felt the same. You both hadn’t meant to hide your relationship for this long, but this year everything had gotten so complicated. You decided it was best to keep it a secret from both of your families, obviously knowing the rather difficult history between them. So now that your secret boyfriend who was tasked with killing the most powerful wizard in the world, who would probably be killed by your father if his father didn’t reach him first, had randomly showed up on your lawn on Christmas night, you knew something must be wrong.

“I love you.” You said quickly as you pulled away to look up at him. “But why in the world are you here?”

“You have to get out of here. Now.” Was all he said. There were tears pricking his eyes so you reached up to cup his face, softly stroking his cheek with your thumb.

“What? Why?” You pressed.

“It’s not safe here anymore. I can’t lose you, I can’t–” He said before breaking into a cry.

“Shhh baby.” You said, letting his head fall against your shoulder. “One step at a time okay? Just tell me what’s happening.” Your voice was soft but you were feeling anything but calm right now. There were a million things running through your brain, number one being the fact that you were in plain sight with an entire family of hardcore anti-Malfoys sitting about 10 feet away.

After a few more seconds he lifted his head back up to look at you. “You have to get out of here. She’s coming. I heard their whole plan I know that they’re comi-”

“What in the bloody hell is HE doing here?!” You heard. Your jaw dropped open and you jumped away from Draco. You turned around to see Ron and Harry in the doorway with their wands pointed at him.

“I don’t know but I don’t think he’s here to say Merry Christmas.” Harry spat. He started fast walking towards the two of you.

“STOP!” You screamed, before you fully thought it through.

“WHAT IS GOING ON?” You closed your eyes as your dad’s voice boomed through your ears.

“Shit.” You whispered.

“Expelliarmus!” Harry fired at Draco. You didn’t even notice Draco pull out a wand; your head was spinning with how to handle this situation. Draco’s wand went flying out of his hand and he quickly ran to grab it.

“Stupefy!” Your dad yelled, causing Draco to groan as he was thrown farther backwards. You were frozen to the spot, not having any idea what to do. Your dad ran towards Draco, towering over him on the ground.

“Mr. Weasley I-” Draco started.

“What did you say to her?!” Your dad yelled again. “What do you want?” Draco tried to sit up but Ron came over and fired another spell at him.

“STOP IT!” You cried.

“Go inside (y/n)! You shouldn’t be here.” Your dad said, turning back to you. But you couldn’t. You couldn’t stand here and watch your family torture your boyfriend. All of the people you love most in the world were fighting right in front of your eyes and it was tearing you apart.

“I’ll ask you one more time Malfoy. What...are...you doing...here.”

“DAD!” You exclaimed and finally got the courage to march over there.

“I told you to go inside (y/n!)” He shot back.

“No!” You choked out. “I LOVE HIM.”

The four of them snapped their heads in your direction, and Ron’s wand fell to the ground out of his limp hand.

“WHAT?” Harry asked firmly.

A tear fell down your cheek as you ran over to Draco. You helped him off the ground before you replied to anybody.

“Look...I know this is... this is the worst time and it’s not how I wanted this to happen. This is my boyfriend.” You said, a dry laugh following your statement at the utter ridiculousness and horrid timing of the situation. “We didn’t get to finish our conversation before you all came out here like maniacs but I promise this is the last person in the world who is going to try and hurt me. Or any of us.” You pleaded.

“Have you gone mad?!” Ron yelled.

“Well this is a turn of events I wasn’t expecting.” You snapped your head to see Fred and George on the porch smirking and pretending to eat popcorn.

“Is it so hard to believe this? Crazier things have happened in our lives!” You exclaimed, exasperated. This entire night felt like it had taken at least 5 years off of your life.

Your dad nodded at you slowly. “We’ll deal with this later. But for now, I would still love to know what was so important to tell you that he needed to disrupt our Christmas.”

Draco swallowed hard. He looked over at you and you nodded, signaling that it was okay. “I...I came here to try and protect her. A-and all of you. The death eaters are all at my house. I heard them say they were coming here tonight.”

“Merlin’s beard.” Your dad said quietly.

“Draco...what?” Shocked was an understatement.

Before anyone could get any more questions in, a swirling black mist no one could mistake for one of the Death Eaters themselves came hurling out of the sky and landed in front of you.

“EVERYBODY GET OUT OF HERE NOW!” Harry screamed.

The high pitched laugh of Bellatrix Lestrange rang through the air. Harry immediately ran after her through the bushes as more came down from the sky. You recognized Fenrir Greyback, the unofficial Death Eater but very official aggressive werewolf, and a few others.

“SHIT.” You said as everyone around you started fighting. You grabbed your wand out of your pocket but before you could fire a spell felt Draco envelop you in a hug.

“I don’t know what’s going to happen...but don’t forget that I love you.” He said, his tears falling onto your face due to your close proximities.

“I love you too. I’m so sorry.” You said, and gripped onto him like your life depended on it.

Being a Weasley was complicated. Actually, no it wasn’t. You couldn’t dream of a more loving, caring, or hilarious family to be a part of. Obviously you had your petty sibling fights and teasing, but it was nothing you couldn’t handle.

Being a Weasley was complicated when the love of your life was a Malfoy. And as the screams of your family, black clouds, and fire engulfing your property occurred around you, you couldn’t help but miss the times when being a Weasley was easy. When you all sat in the living room in your matching pajamas, hearing your mom’s voice telling the stories of Babbity Rabbity, or The Three Brothers traveling at midnight.

tags:

@tinylumpiaa @kashishwrites @lateautumn @ask-sirius-queer-black @inkhearthes

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iliveiloveiwrite · 3 years

Text

Wait For Me // D.M.

Request: hi! can you do a request where draco performed the obliviate curse on his gf before the war, then met her again post war when he became a healer? the storyline is up to you! by the way, i really really like your fics 🥺 - anon

A/N: This request let me explore all the things I love: angst, healer!draco, and redemption. Thank you for trusting me with this request, I love it so much. This was not also on my WIP lost but I had an idea and I ran with it. With some hope, my next few fics will be from that list!!

Warnings: angst, mentions of nightmares and injuries, some anxiety, short words and tempers, swearing. A HAPPY ENDING or at least the start of one.

Word count: 5.2k

1996:

“You know why I have to do this, right?” Draco whispers: worried that if he were to speak any louder his voice would give away how close he is to breaking.

You nod once. A solemn nod that juxtaposes the tears falling freely down your face. How could you be agreeing to this when it made you feel like your heart was being ripped out?

“I’m sorry,” He whispers, arms reaching for you, the urge to touch too strong to resist. “If they used you against me or if you got hurt, I would never forgive myself.”

You hush him; not missing the irony of the situation. To be comforting him when you were going to have a large chunk of your memories taken from you, it was almost laughable.

The final few moments together are spent in silence, wrapped in each other’s arms, getting as much of the other as possible before inevitably having to let go. You bury your face in his chest, almost refusing to let go of him as he unhooks your hands from around his waist.

The time has come; it’s come too soon.

You barely register Draco’s tears mixing with yours as he hauls you in for one last desperate kiss. His forehead remains pressed to yours as he whispers three words.

“Wait for me.”

Then everything goes blank. A flash of white and your life begins anew.

No memories of the last year of your life; no thoughts about the blonde haired teenager that had occupied your mind and stolen your heart.

There’s nothing.

Five years later:

The strong antiseptic smell has your nose crinkling in distaste. The overhead lights buzz as the bright light bounces off the overly clean floor; it makes your head hurt more. You place a tentative hand to the side of your head, frowning further when you feel the large bump growing there. Removing your hand, you sigh, remembering the tears of the pupil that had done this.

Not long after the war, a new decree was issued setting up centres of education for young witches and wizards that showed magical promise. They operated extremely similar to a muggle primary school; however these followed the curriculum created by the Ministry of Magic.

It was in one of these schools that you worked, choosing to train as a teacher after finishing your education.

A rogue ball is what had landed you in the emergency room of the only magical hospital in Britain. It had come out of nowhere; the children playing happily as the weather had improved over the course of the day.

Tapping your foot impatiently off the tiled floor, you had to admit to yourself it had been partly your fault for not seeing the ball before it knocked you on the side of the head and subsequently knocked you to the floor. The child, a young Hugo Ward, had felt terrible – sobs wracking his body as he apologised to you over and over again to the point where you had to reassure him you were fine.

An hour after the accident, it became evident that you were not fine. The dizziness and double vision being symptoms of something worse, your boss had sent you off to St. Mungo’s without room for argument, promising you she would cover your class for the rest of the day.

“(Y/N) (Y/L/N),” calls the triage nurse. A blonde middle aged lady with bright eyes and a kind smile; she points in the direction of exam room two and you flash her a grateful smile.

The hospital bed is uncomfortable as you take a seat on top of the crinkly paper. The pounding in your head had not stopped since you arrived but the dizziness was calming somewhat, and for that, you were thankful. It happens as a flash; a memory washes over you of a large hospital wing, two rows of beds and an elderly lady with fierce determination written over her face.

A single blink and it disappears. The flashes hadn’t happened for a while; the aftermath of a memory charm inflicted upon in your Sixth Year at Hogwarts. It wasn’t known who had done it; they had found you wandering the halls of Hogwarts alone and confused before realising what had happened. You had recovered fairly quickly; the only aftermath being the flashes of what could be memories.

You sigh, sinking further into the gurney as you think of the pile of marking waiting for you at home. Even a sore head couldn’t put off the inevitable.

The Healer doesn’t look up as he enters, pulling the curtain closed behind him, “I’m Healer Malfoy, how can I help you today?”

You sit straighter as you take in the healer. Blonde hair down to the nape of his neck, tied back with what seems to be a leather cord. He hasn’t looked up at you yet, but from your spot, you could tell he was handsome. A strong jaw being home to a distracting mouth. You look away, admiring the rest of him before you could be caught staring at his lips.

Healer Malfoy’s face slackens for a second as his eyes rake over your face. He collects himself after a second, but still, you noticed. He clears his throat, looking down at the chart in his hand. “(Y/N) (Y/L/N)?”

You nod, “That’s me.”

“You hurt your head at work?”

Again, you nod, “Twice over. A pupil threw a ball at my head by accident, but I knocked my head on the playground as I fell.”

Healer Malfoy places your chart on a nearby table, pulling latex gloves out of his pocket as he does so. He smiles at you, but there’s something guarded about the expression on his face that has question after question springing up in your overworked and pained mind.

“Did you lose consciousness?” Healer Malfoy asks routinely, silently gesturing to your head, asking for permission to feel the injury.

“No,” You answer, turning your head for him to feel the bump on the side of your head.

You hear his sharp inhale as he examines the large bump there. As if seeing you hurt physically hurt him too, yet how was that possible? Thinking through your admittedly fragmented memories, you cannot find a whisper of what the blonde haired man could have looked like younger. Something niggled in the back of your mind, a feeling, a hunch. You didn’t know what, but it got stronger every time you met the grey eyes of the handsome Healer Malfoy.

“This is going to sound odd but go with me on it please?” You say, voice lilting into a question at the end. The idea of not giving this man in front of you a choice simply abhorrent to you.

Healer Malfoy smiles: it’s polite and doesn’t reach his eyes. He takes a step back from you, needing the distance but also done with the examination of your injury. “Okay, I’ll go with it,” He states warily.

Your hands clench into fists; overcome with the urge to try and coax a smile out of him. “I don’t know how else to say it. Do we know each other? You feel familiar to me, as if I know you from somewhere.”

Whatever smile was on Healer Malfoy’s face falls the instant the words leave your mouth. His entire demeanour changes – shoulders stiff, hands gripping your chart so tight it could snap in half. Unclenching his jaw, Healer Malfoy grits out, “No. We haven’t met before.”

“Are you sure?” You press, deciding desperately that you needed to know the man standing in front of you.

“Very sure,” He murmurs, scribbling your discharge notes and handing them to you. “I would remember you if we had met before.”

The blank confession leaves you speechless. Blinking in what could only be described as shock, you take the outstretched papers.

“Your prescription is there too. You show no major signs of a concussion, just rest for tonight at least and watch out for anymore footballs,” Healer Malfoy starts, “Should you have any more problems, you know where to find us.”

Taking the dismissal for what it was, you hurriedly grab your bag from the gurney and leave the exam room, taking extra care to hide the dejected look on your face as you pass the handsome healer.

Draco watches you go. You all but sprint out of the hospital, almost desperate in your escape to get away from him and his short words.

The threat has been gone for years; vanquished not too long after the night Draco had taken your memories, after the night that continues to haunt his nightmares.

Draco Malfoy had faced the Dark Lord and lived – he has stared death in its sallow face and was not the first to look away. Yet, Draco was ever more terrified of what you would do should your memories ever return. Your rage was entirely more terrifying than staring into the soulless eyes of the man his parents so blindly followed.

Draco releases a breath as he spies your figure finally leaving the hospital. The released breath does nothing to loosen the tightness in his chest; the tightness that had been there since that fateful night in the astronomy tower.

He’s had this argument with himself countless times, always the same words and the same fight. His own justification for why he did what he did; why he took your memories of your relationship and sent you away. Deep down, Draco knows that he should have communicated better. He knows that he should have sat you down and explained to you his worries and his fears. However, at barely seventeen years old, Draco was just getting used to the idea of love. He knew what was coming; he knew that there were dark times ahead and he was unfortunately aware of how you could be used against him should the time come.

He had a decision to make, so he did. Thinking back on it now, it had almost killed him. He had never experienced a pain like it. Draco had been hit with the Sectumsempra curse and the pain that followed was nothing compared to the pain he felt when erasing your memories.

Draco turns away from the door. You’ve disappeared around the corner; your head bowed, and shoulders hunched. He has no reason to watch you now. He turns away from the door, wondering whether it was fate that had brought you back into his life after such an absence.

An absence he caused.

-------

You return to work the day after; feeling fine enough to stand in front of your class and deliver your lessons of literacy and maths but also of spellcasting and magical control for infants. You followed your lesson plans to the letter; resolutely refusing to stray from them should they let your mind wander to the handsome healer and his cold words.

The healer continues to play on your mind for the rest of the week: at work, at home. You would go over the brief conversation you had with him; wondering at which point his demeanour changed, that he became closed off and cold. He hadn’t been welcoming from the beginning, but by the end of it he had downright cold. It should have warned you off; it should have been warning enough to keep your distance and to do your best to ensure you never needed to return to the emergency room, yet there was something about him. There was something hidden within his grey eyes, a dark secret ravaging him from the inside out and you felt desperate to know what it was.

-------

As much as you adore your vocation, as much as you love coming into work and greeting the children with a smile, there was something sweet about sending them home to their parents. A sweet relief that loosens the weight on your chest somewhat.

A shock of blonde hair has you turning back to the school gates. Your breath catches in your throat as you recognise the handsome face of the healer that had treated you only a week ago. His face not one you felt like you could forget.

“Healer Malfoy?” You call out, confused at his presence.

He smiles bashfully, “Draco, please.”

“Draco,” You greet. “Do you often make home visits?” You tease, a smile crossing your face.

“Technically, I’m at your place of work so this would be a work visit,” Draco comments, laughing lightly, seeming to be in a much better mood than the last time you had met him.

Your smile grows larger at the sound of his laughter. “Okay… do you often make work visits?”

He shakes his head, “No. I do not.”

“Why are you here?”

“Two reasons.”

“And they are.”

“One, and one I thought of just now – I wanted to apologise for my behaviour at the hospital the other day, I was rude, and it was out of line so I’m sorry.”

“You have nothing to apologise for. I doubt that you get asked by many of your patients whether you know them.”

Draco smiles, “You’re right, I don’t, but nevertheless, I shouldn’t have been so rude, and I apologise.”

“Then I accept your apology, only if you accept mine.”

He goes to argue but stops himself at the last possible moment. You meet his gaze head on, watching the emotions pile up there. There’s something lingering in his grey eyes; something deeper as if he has more to apologise for but he isn’t ready to confess to what or why he even needs to say more.

“What was your second reason for being here?” You question, curiosity piqued but also wanting to move the conversation on, unable to look into his grey eyes any long for the fear that your heart may burst out of your chest.

Draco smiles, “I’m picking up my godson.”

“Your godson? Do I know who he is?”

“You might. Tobias Dawsey?”

Recognition flashes across your face as you picture the small brunette in your mind’s eye. “I do know him! I taught him last year,” You all but shout, “He’s your godson?”

Draco nods, “He is. I’ve worked with his mother from my very first day at St. Mungo’s, she asked me to be godfather when she found out she was pregnant with him.”

His words warm your heart; the care he has for his godson obvious in his voice. You go to say more, to try and coax more information out of him. Your need to know him almost choking you with its intensity, but for the life in you, you couldn’t figure out why you needed to know him. You move to speak, but you’re interrupted by the excited crow of a young child.

“Uncle Draco!” Tobias shouts, running up to his uncle on his little legs, his bookbag banging against them with every step.

“Hey kiddo,” Draco greets, picking up the child making grabby arms for him.

“Do you know Miss (Y/L/N)?”

Draco nods. “Miss (Y/L/N) came into work the other week,” He states, thankfully not exaggerating further.

Tobias frowns, turning his attention to you, concerned about his favourite teacher, “Are you okay though?”

You smile at the young brunette, “I’m all better. Your Uncle Draco fixed me up.”

Tobias nods seriously, “He’s the best Healer ever.”

You laugh; the love Tobias has for his godfather so clear within his voice, it only warms your heart further. “I have no doubt in that, Tobias. Off you go anyway, I wouldn’t want to keep you from getting home.”

Tobias and Draco wave at you as they leave the school grounds. The smile on your face doesn’t fade as you watch them walk away, the young boy chattering the ear off his devoted uncle.

Deep down, where you would only admit to yourself and no-one else, you hoped that you would get to see the handsome blonde healer again.

-------

Over the following weeks you spy Draco’s presence more by the school gates. Tobias clearly adores him, sprinting into his uncle’s arms the moment he sees him waiting for him. Crossing your arms across your chest, you comment, “You must be a very devoted godfather to volunteer to pick up Tobias this often.”

Draco shrugs nonchalantly as if the task of reorganising his shifts was nothing of a chore, “I enjoy spending time with him and…”

“And?”

Draco ducks his head, feeling the familiar heat of blush creep up his neck, “I like talking to you.”

He feels like it’s the wrong thing to say. He knows it’s the wrong thing to say. If he had an ounce of human decency within him, he would turn away from you the moment Tobias arrives. He would walk away from you, never to come back into your life again. What he did all those years ago was unforgivable despite having your permission. Draco knows he shouldn’t be back in your life, but now that he had seen you once or twice, he had to see you more.

He felt like an addict. He couldn’t leave you alone. Draco didn’t want to if he was honest with himself especially when you grin at him so widely his heart pounds in his chest.

You duck your head, your hair hiding your face. “I like talking to you too even if it is only at the school gate,” You shyly admit.

“Then we should change that,” Draco stutters out before he backs down. He wants to kick himself; he should turn away from you now and leave you alone for good, but that one selfish part of him that powers his heart tells him to stay put.

If possible, your smile grows larger, “Then we should change that.”

------

The friendship feels so natural once it starts; once the both of you get past the initial awkwardness that seemed to loiter from Draco’s cold words earlier in the year. It started with longer conversations at the school gate, but then he would come with Tobias’ mother and wait for you as Tobias would reluctantly leave with his mother. From there, it grew into a timid friendship that slowly grew more surer of itself as you invited Draco out for food or to museums or to spend the weekend with you, walking around the city when he wasn’t working.

However, as the friendship became more solid, you could not ignore the way your heart sped up with every smile and every laugh. You could not ignore the way your face heated each time he winked at you; a private joke shared between you. It didn’t feel like a passing fancy. It felt like something deeper, as if the feelings had been there before and had been dormant until now. You felt as if you were always meant to feel this way about Draco – the feelings tugging on memories you weren’t even sure were yours. Flashes of blonde hair and the powerful scent of jasmine all tied in with late nights in a tower you could barely recognise. Draco made you feel like the only person in the world; he was supportive and kind and funny. He was everything you could want and more – how could you not fall for him?

There was still the remaining secret though. It haunted him; his eyes clouded over whenever it was on his mind as if he was returning to the very memory itself. He would return shier, unsure of himself as if the friendship he had forged with you was about to implode and leave him shattered once more.

You ask him about it once. The two of you sat on your couch; you introducing Draco the wonders of muggle films and showing him your favourites when you catch him zone out. Your finger reaches out, pokes his cheek. “Where did you just go?” You question, a smile in your voice.

Draco reaches out, grabbing your finger, “Nowhere of importance.”

You frown, pulling your finger out of his grip, “You do that a lot.”

“Do what a lot?”

“Disappear on me. It’s like you have something big to tell me, but you just aren’t ready yet.”

Draco feels certain his heart stops in his chest. He tries to laugh but it comes out strangled; choked by the worry creeping up from his gut. Draco opens his mouth to reply but you beat him to it. “I’m not saying you have to tell me what it is now,” You start, “I just want you to know that I’ll be here when you’re ready.”

Draco closes his eyes, rests his head against the back of your couch. You had so graciously opened your home to him, opened your life and offered friendship to him, and he felt awful. As he should, he thinks to himself. He had taken memories of importance from you, and here you sat, unaware of the crime and sitting with the criminal himself.

It felt like there was a countdown ticking over his head. It felt like he only had a certain amount of time until he had to come clean and he had to tell you about that night in the astronomy tower.

Yet for all that was in him, for all that created his moral compass, he couldn’t bring himself to tell you and ruin whatever was blossoming between the two of you. Draco supposes he is a coward. He probably is, he tells himself, but he cannot bring himself to care about his cowardice when you smile at him like he holds the sun and stars for you.

Does he regret that night? With everything within him. Would he do it again knowing the outcome? Of course he would. He would sacrifice himself and his happiness a thousand times over to ensure your safety.

---------

Draco tells himself he’ll confess the next time he sees you which is both all too soon and not soon enough. His love for you had never faded; he hadn’t been the one to forget the short relationship you had. The intensity that accompanied teenage love and infatuation had never left the forefront of his mind. After all, how could they? Now that you were back in his life, he felt the teenager again – utterly drawn to you and unwilling to let you go.

He confesses late on a Tuesday night. The shift at St. Mungo’s had been long and arduous, but he got through it with the single thought of you. He knew that at the end of it, he would get to knock on your door. He only hoped that you wouldn’t turn him away once you found out the truth. Your hatred of him could never rival the hatred he feels for himself, but he finds himself hoping for your forgiveness.

“I have to tell you something,” Draco states, plain and simple.

You chew on the inside of your cheek before answering, “You can tell me anything.”

“You had a memory charm used on you in Sixth Year, didn’t you?”

“How did you know that?” You demand. Despite the friendship grown between the both of you, you hadn’t told him that. You had given him bits and pieces, alluded to the fact that there were gaps in your memories, but you hadn’t told him the truth. Just like he hadn’t told you what made him disappear inside his mind like he so often does.

“I took your memories. It was me.” Draco confesses, his voice clear in the quiet room.

“What?” You shout, anger shooting through you.

“I took your memories. I used a memory charm on you in the middle of Sixth Year when things started to take a turn for the worst.”

“What gave you the right?” You cry, tears building out of upset and anger.

“You did,” Draco states plainly, “You didn’t want to at first, but you came round to my way of thinking when you saw how bad things were getting at home.”

“Why would I agree to that?”

“Because once upon a time, you were in love with me.”

You shake your head, pacing back and forth in your living room, trying to get to grips with the piles of information only just dumped on you. Draco watches you pace; his grey eyes following each step intently as you work through everything in your head.

Worry shines bright in his eyes when you stop pacing. He goes to take a step towards you, but you step back. The small space between you feels like a great chasm, a gaping void that Draco is desperate to fill, to patch up.

“Tell me everything,” You state before adding on, “Please.”

Draco releases a shuddering breath before starting: “We were friends through school. I don’t remember how the friendship started, but it did and for years we were really good, close friends. Then along the way, the friendship changed. We fell in love, or whatever it is at sixteen/seventeen years old. We had less than a year together when things started to change; when whisperings of the Dark Lord’s return were strengthened by continued attacks on the Ministry.

“You argued with me for hours,” Draco pauses, laughing as he remembers what you clearly couldn’t, “I had never seen you so angry or so stubborn. You were adamant, you didn’t want to but then you went quiet and I knew you saw what I had seen. You agreed after a minutes silence; told me yes even though it broke the both of us to do so.

Draco’s grey eyes are lined with unshed tears as he murmurs, “I couldn’t let them have you. My family was working with the darkest wizard there had ever been in the last century, if he had gotten a whiff of what you meant to me, you would be used in ways that not even I could imagine. My aunt would have taken great pleasure in ensuring that you would be a bargaining chip for me to fulfil whatever mission they handed me. That was something I couldn’t allow.

“It broke me to do it. To watch your eyes go blank as the memories of what we shared disappeared. Selfishly, I asked you to wait for me, not knowing that they would be tied to you afterwards. I just… I couldn’t let you go. As a teenager and an adult. There’s no real excuse for what I did, but know it was out of love for you that I did it.”

Draco falls silent. His heavy words adding to the growing tension in the room. Draco’s mind runs a thousand miles a minute; his eyes don’t leave you as he watches you work through every emotion coursing through your body. He sees the anger, the sadness, the frustration, but he also sees the relief at having an answer for those gaps that you had only recently confessed to him.

You break the loaded silence, “I forgot the relationship, but on some level I don’t think I ever forgot you.”

“What?” Draco asks, the air rushing out of him in one fell swoop.

A smile creeps across your face; relishing somewhat at having caught him off-guard. “I have glimpses of what I always assumed was a past life. The memories were always fuzzy around the edges, but they were clear enough for me to catch glimpses of blonde hair or to spy the pattern of a ring much like the one on your signet ring.”

Draco remains silent; he doesn’t dare talk; he doesn’t dare breathe. Nothing prepares him for your next words.

“I waited for you… like you asked.”

Those words. Those foolish words that he had absolutely no right to whisper to you. Draco had been so overwhelmed in that moment, yet he couldn’t ignore the small kernel of hope that despite the strength of the memory charm, a part of you would remember him and would wait for him.

But you had.

You had waited for him. You barely knew who he was, but you had waited for him, hoping that one day he would cross your path.

“Fuck,” Draco whispers, running a hand through his growing hair, starting to pace the length of your living room.

“When I woke after my memories had been taken, I clearly didn’t remember a single thing, but I had the echoes of three words ringing in my ears. A beg, a plea of someone – a boy asking for me to wait for them. I didn’t know completely who I was waiting for, I didn’t know it was you until I saw you at the hospital that first time and then again so soon after leaving. My memories haven’t returned, and I doubt they will, but I just know that it was you who I was waiting for.”

Draco falls silent, letting your words fall over him and sink into his skin, settling deep within his bones.

Years. It had been years since that night in the astronomy tower where he took your memories. It had been years since he felt the longing and love; there had been no-one lese and there would be no-one else. For Draco, there was only ever you… and you had waited.

You had waited for him.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Draco repeats, hands continuing to run through his hair in frustration as he paces the room. He faces you; grey eyes wild with emotion, “How are you not angry with me?”

“I am angry with you! I’m furious with you, Draco! You took my memories, but if you say I agreed to it, I’m just as angry with myself for allowing myself to forget you.”

“What do we do?” He asks, a hand running down his face as he tries to figure out the next step.

“Forgiveness,” You state simply, “We try to move on.”

Draco’s hands drop limply at his side as he gasps, “Forgiveness?”

“What happened after you erased my memories, Draco?”

“There was a war. I was on the wrong side,” is all he says. He isn’t ready to go into too much detail. That’s another story for another day.

“Was that what you were trying to protect me from? The wrong side?”

Draco nods wordlessly. He saw things going south so quickly but his parents hadn’t. They pushed and they pushed; inducting him into the same pureblood fanaticism they relished. “How can you even think of forgiving me? I took your memories. I stole them from you, and you won’t ever get them back,” He argues, wanting to know whether you truly understood what you were doing by forgiving him.

“Let me ask you something, Draco.”

“What?”

“Do you plan on leaving again?”

He shakes his head immediately. He doesn’t think he could leave you even if he tried.

You shrug your shoulders, “That’s how I can think of forgiving you.”

“I don’t understand,” He whispers; his own self-hatred confused by your words.

“The wizarding war was about to descend into war. We were confused, scared teenagers who didn’t see another option. You asked my permission, Draco, and I granted it clearly.”

“But-”

You cut him off, “No buts. I said yes. I gave permission and we cannot change the past, Draco but we can control our future. It’s going to require work on both sides, but you can tell me about what I’m missing and at the same time we can forge something new.”

“What do you mean?”

You smile shyly, taking that all important step towards him, “Make some new memories with me, Draco.”

*****

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Draco Malfoy taglist: @the--queen-of-hell @obxmxybxnk @obx-beach @sycathorn-slush @dracomalfoyswifey @kashishwrites @justmesadgirl @detroitobsessed @reaganwonders @just-a-belgian-girl @aspiringsloth20 @lahoete @minty-malfoy @fallinallinmendes @ravenclawbitch426 @ochrythum @beiahadid @gryffindors-weasley

#draco malfoy x reader #draco x reader #Draco Malfoy #draco malfoy fanfiction #draco malfoy imagine

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