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#i remember being 13. alright. it was not that long ago for me compared to for sam.
mell0bee · 6 months
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sam being like "luc's a teenager! halflings age differently pssssh it's fine don't worry about the timeline smile" is so funny. samuel. if he's 5 at the start of the campaign that would put him at ~13 which would make luc's teenage rebellion. objectively even funnier. samuel pls.
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krispyt · 4 months
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20 Questions for Fic Writers
Thank you for the tag @cnnmonbimee! <3
1. How many works do you have on Ao3? 3...pretty small number if you ask me sksksks.
2. What’s your total Ao3 word count? 22,961
3. What fandoms do you write for? I actually just write for JSHK, and currently writing some as of the moment! I attempted to write for Omori, but I couldn't continue because I forgot the prompt for the WIP I was about to make and for the life of me, I still can't up to this day.
4. What are your top five fics by kudos?
An Unlikely Alliance = 226 kudos
whoever made your smile must've made it to get in my way = 97
turn off the music (and listen to the quiet whisper) = 77
Man, I didn't even reach 5 sfkjhsdkjs.
5. Do you respond to comments? Yes! It's always a joy to read them and I try to respond as soon as I get over myself lol. Sometimes a comment makes me so happy I have to compose myself sksks.
6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?
whoever made your smile must've made it to get in my way! Angst is my cup of tea, but if you ask me this actually isn't angsty enough. It's more or less bittersweet. I wrote this around the time of the Severance arc and I remember getting a barrage of messages from my best friend because they wanted to fight me with how angsty I made the fic. I should write more :3
7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? Hmm, probably An Unlikely Alliance. This was the first fic I wrote, and it's pretty lighthearted compared to turn off the music (and listen to the quiet whisper) which has a happy ending too, but it's more subtle...if that makes sense?
8. Do you get hate on fics? Nope. And I sure hope that doesn't happen.
9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind? Nope...I wish I could lol. But I get so overtaken by embarrassment I die before even typing. Kudos to the writers who can write smut though. Ily all. I wanna try it tho, but I think I'll start with implying these scenes happened in my fic lol.
10. Do you write crossovers? Nope...though drawing crossovers seem like something I'll do.
11. Have you ever had a fic stolen? Nope, and I hope this doesn't happen too.
12. Have you ever had a fic translated? Nope
13. Have you ever co-written a fic before? No, but I want to try! It seems fun.
14. What’s your all time favorite ship? Hananene! Listen I've never been so consumed by a ship like Hananene. I was just going to read the manga for funsies and I ended up spending the WHOLE day catching up to it and that was THREE years ago. I was in a chokehold. Still am lol
15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will? So there's these WIPs I wanna finish (tucks hair behind my ear):
Hananene Hanahaki fic - not spoiling much, but I wanted to try writing yandere Amane lol. I'll leave it up to you to figure out what's the general premise ;>
Twoshot Childhood best friends/College AU Hananene - I think the problem with this WIP is I keep forgetting it exists sjkfhksj I just found it yesterday lol.
16. What are your writing strengths? Hmm...I guess if there is one, emotions of the characters and the overall setting. I find it really satisfying if I'm able to tie in a character's emotions and make the setting a supporting detail to said emotion. And like, double meaning descriptions...if that makes sense? Idk what you call em sfjhg
17. What are your writing weaknesses? I struggle with the flow and brevity a lot. I take a lot of time with WIPS because I keep trying to see if the flow goes smoothly or wonky, then I have to keep tweaking till it sounds alright in my head. As for brevity, sometimes I drown in descriptions that the fic drags on and is too long. This is where being detail-oriented becomes a con T_T
18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic? Uhh...probably not. English is actually my second language, but I suck at writing in my native language simply because it's kind of a "heavy" language, if you get me. And I haven't mastered other languages enough to write fics with it
19. First fandom you wrote for? JSHK! I'm usually a lurker lol. This is the first time I actively participated in a fandom.
20. Favorite fic you’ve written? Does a WIP count? sfkjhssj if it does, then it's the WIP I'm currently writing. If not, I'd say turn off the music (and listen to the quiet whisper). I'm kinda proud with how it turned out :3
Tagging @legend-of-cupcake since most of those I know already responded sksksks. Anyone can join in if they want to as well!
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Chapter 13 - New Rules, New Moves
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Kisara changed into more casual clothes just as she always did whenever she knew some fighting would be involved, mainly, a pair of fashionable and slightly large high-waisted black pants, a cute crop top and her kitsune-patterned haori, with the katana attached ever-permanently at her hip. She instructed Ohma to go outside and train, while she goes to scout around the ballroom and get some food for him when she's done listening to Katahara's announcement.
As soon as she got there, she spotted Agito, of all people, chatting rather friendly with Naoya and Himuro. She couldn't help but chuckle and step over to them, finding out that they were talking about Ultraman and Zetton, the boss monster Okubo compared Agito to. But it seems like the Fang really is out of this world, for he knows just about nothing about real life.
"Agito, do you not know about video games at all?" Kisara asked, getting in front of him, next to the other MMA fighter. "What are those?" that genuine question made both the girl and Naoya gasp in disdain. "How can you not know of video games?!" they yelled in unison, as he simply shrugged. "Kisara, we must teach him about video games, some day! And soon!" she nodded vigorously, their arms crossed over their chest, as if they meant business. "If you don't know about video games... Does it mean that you're not familiar with most of the things that happen outside of Katahara's circle and general fighting?" the stupefying answer was an affirmative nod of his head. "I never needed anything else but to get stronger and protect the Chairman." what a heartbreaking life. "But would you like to experience and see the world with your own eyes, someday?" came the red head's question. "I don't know." he replied simply. "For as long as Chairman Katahara needs me, I cannot leave my spot by his side." it was a shattering explanation, but it made a lot of sense. "I understand... You're very loyal to the Chairman. I can see all the people who work for him trust and respect him a lot." she realised. "Man, but what a sad life. You need a hobby. Next thing, you'll tell us you never watched a movie before!" but the answer was negative. "That's, by far, the saddest thing I've ever heard in my life." Naoya's head was spinning, hearing the Fang being so unaware of the world outside. "Wait, hold up. Hatsumi Senpai said he was a candidate for the spot of The Fang when he was younger. I think 20 years ago, which means you weren't The Fang 20 years ago... And 20 years ago you must have still been a child, or at least, not an adult yet, so that means you weren't as indispensable to Katahara as you are now. So... What about your youth? Have you done nothing fun, or picked a hobby before that time?" Kisara pointed out, remembering the horror with which Hatsumi explained the time he went to Katahara's home after being personally picked as The Fang candidate, but got bored in about two days. "I don't remember much of my childhood, but Chairman Katahara took me in and gave me a proper education from a younger age. I guess I never thought about anything else." he was pretty unbothered by not having knowledge of the fun activities. "Alright, alright, I understand. Well - If you ever want to go travel the world, hit me up. After this tournament is over, I'm planning to go on a complete world tour." she smiled friendly at him. "Thank you for the invitation." he spoke, as formal as ever. "Naoya. Himuro. Better teach Agito about video games and movies in the meantime." the girl gave them a thumbs up, and they gave her a mock military salute, as they started showing various video games on their phones. In a way, she wanted to spend a bit more time with them - Although clueless, Agito was a nice person, and with Naoya and Himuro there, the conversation wasn't awkward in the least - Damn, extroverted, social people. On the other hand, she spotted both Gaolang and Kaneda there, having a jovial chat, and whilst she wanted to congratulate the Thai on his outstanding performance, and hopefully, convince him to teach her a few Muay Thai moves, and hype up the smaller one for inspiring people to get better and better.
"Hey, you guys, how are you after having such a fantastic match?" the girl held a large, encouraging grin on her face. "Ah... Hahaa... Miss Kisara, don't tease me, that was anything but fantastic. Gaolang beat me up without even sweating." Kaneda stuck his tongue out like an awkward little kitten. "No, no, don't say that, you were completely inspirational! If I had heard you four years ago, I'd have started crying. I really needed to hear something like that, and I think more people were moved by your words." she praised the man who grinned shyly. "You're embarrassing me, Miss Kisara, but thank you. I just... Said what I've been feeling my entire life. I was born with a weak body, and during my childhood, I've suffered tons of diseases and surgeries. Ha... I don't really like speaking about it, it's not a manly thing, admitting to your weaknesses... But the point of it all is striving to get better and stronger every day." the man with fox eyes explained, watching the girl nod her head in approval. "Yes, exactly! Four years ago, my Senpai told me the same thing. Four years ago, I was living off of coffee and a light meal per day, buried deep into studying medicine. I was tired all the time, physically, mentally, emotionally, and I always felt so weak and good for nothing. I then got introduced in this whole kengan mess, and my friend introduced me to my senpai, who taught me what it means to be strong and reach out for your dreams." Kaneda's eyes opened, beaming at the girl with wonder and awe - He had actually managed to inspire someone to become better! His heart was swelling with pride! "That's right, Kaneda, you were a true warrior in the battlefield. You, as well as your fighting style and wit, were admirable." Gaolang agreed to the praise given to his opponent. "Enough, you two, you are embarrassing me..." he chuckled, waving his hand dismissively at the two. "I was wondering... You two... Since tomorrow is a free day... But it be okay to ask you to teach me some of your simpler moves?" the girl asked, smiling a bit timidly, seeing as they were looking at her with wide eyes of surprise and mouth slightly agape. "There's a lot of things I can't do, because I don't have the body built for all this... And I'll never have it, anyway. I couldn't possibly become a pro-wrestler or grappler or brawler, you know? Aside for aikido, I don't think there's anything that I can really do, that would put me on an equal line with all of you, guys. But I've been training for four years now, and I've been picking up different moves from different styles, and I've been adapting them to my own capabilities. I want to get better for myself, so that if anything ever happens, there's no doubt I'll get out of whatever predicament I'm thrown into... And I really enjoyed your fight. And I want to start being able to do elbow and knee hits too." she grinned sheepishly, earning a hum of amusement from the Thai. "It would be my honor to teach you, Miss Kisara! Let's meet up tomorrow and practice together, yes? I think it would do you some good for your next match, yes, Gaolang?" Kaneda looked up with glee at the boxer. "Yes, that sounds good. I will need good practice against the strongest man in the underground. He's a worthy foe indeed." he spared a glance towards Agito, who was looking into Naoya's phone, still as confused as before. "I must win, for His Highness..." though Kisara had no time to thank them, for the biggest child in the world appeared like an obnoxious jump-scare out of thin air and wrapped his arms around the two fighters. "GAOLAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAANG!!! KANEDA SUEKICHIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII! THAT FIRGHT WAS SO AWESOOOOOOOOOME!!! I WAS SOOOOOOOOO MOOOOOOOOOOOVED!!!" his scream resounded through the hall room, and whilst Kisara couldn't help but cringe from the ear pain, she knew Kaneda and Gaolang were doing much worse, probably even ruptured eardrums. "Damn. He found me." the Thai grumbled, exasperated. From a little behind, Sayaka cheered happily for Saw Paing, for finding his friend, and another man that sported beautiful red hair just like the fox girl's, and a long side plait that complimented the one Sayaka wore on the other side, put his jacket over her shoulders. He must be Retsudo, Katahara's child that was in charge of the bodyguards or whatever, as Gaolang pointed out. It was the first time she saw him, but he was as beautiful as his sister, despite how different they looked.
As if on cue, Katahara's face appeared on the large screen, booming his announcement with the same jovial voice as always. "Hello, everybody~♪ Are we having fun? You've all been a delight today. Now, I know this is sudden, but I'd like to announce an additional rule. Also, this video is being broadcast across the island. It would be, how you say, 'unfair' if you had information that people who didn't attend the party didn't have." the whole place was mumbling around, flustered at the idea of an additional rule. "Okay, here it goes~♪ From the second round on, you are allowed to substitute your fighter no more than once. You are free to select anyone, so long as you have their consent. The substitution can be made right up until the match begins, so give it a good think. That's all, bye-bye~♪!" the man chirped as the screen closed and everyone was left chattering amongst themselves. What an awful rule. People can scout from the winners, from the losers, from anything, anyone and whatever. Those CEOs out there might need to keep their fighters safe... And vice-versa.
"Stay safe, you guys, and I'll be seeing you tomorrow." with a smile and a peace sign, Kisara went to get a tray and put lots of food on it, before turning to leave the party and go into the forest.  Her mind was on Ohma and how people would try to scout him for being so strong. 
As soon as she found her way around to wherever Ohma was, she saw he was already pretty tired and sweating, and in front of him, a huge boulder had  pretty large craters made by his punches. They were still steaming from the impact. That's remarkable, Kisara thought, as she whistled to the man, who turned around, a frown on his face. "Hey, pretty boy, lookin' good~❤️!" the girl smiled at him, sitting on the ground and urging him to come over and eat. "Not now. Hold up a second. I'm still pissed off at how fuckin' pathetic I was, letting that greased up asshole provoke me into attacking him. Nikos' ghost showed up too and threw me the hell off. I thought that all I wanted was to kill Setsuna... So why did I challenge that son of a bitch? I don't get it... If this keeps up, I'll never..." he kept trailing on, his fists clenched in anger. "You challenged him because, as you told Setsuna, and me, and Yamashita and Kaede... You want to prove to all those arrogant bitches that it's YOU who's the strongest out there. Setsuna doesn't matter, he's just another pawn in the long run. You probably won't even get to fight him in the tournament. But if you end up winning this whole thing, that means you've already defeated him, by default, yes?" she tried to calm him down, but just as she explained that, the man turned around, his eyes wide with shock - His gaze was fixed towards a certain point into the horizon, and he started speaking by himself. Was he seeing Niko again...? "You again? ... That, huh? I guess I haven't done it in a while. Fine. I'll do it if it'll make you get the hell outta my head." he muttered, putting his fingers tips close to each other, creating a sphere-like shape. "Watch closely, Hasashi Kisara. This is Niko style Nil Kata Void. You might learn something." he took a deep breath, and in that instant, it felt as if he had transcendent into another universe and allowed the God of War to possess his body into a stance Kisara was unfamiliar with. He corrected his center of gravity and the angle of his fist, and launched a punch towards the boulder. This time, however, the impact created a crater that took half the radius of the boulder surface. "Wh-What the fuck was that?!" he gasped in complete bewilderment. "THAT WAS FANTASTIC!" Kisara jumped up to her feet, running by his side. "This is almost as big as Takeshi's craters...! Ohma, what was this move, it was amazing!"  "A...Adamantine... Kata...? Ironbreaker...?" he muttered softly, staring in disbelief at his fist - HE did that crater! "Adamantine Kata? The one that you said was lame and useless? You've managed to perfect it in an hour?" she asked, just as in awe as him. "I... Don't know." he muttered, letting his hand fall down by his side. "I saw Niko again. He told me to meditate, just now... And I got a flashback of some of my memories. I didn't even realise I was punching the rock until I actually did. He said... This was how the Adamantine Kata was supposed to go... And that I had to get back my memories to get my real self back." he raised his gaze up towards the punched boulder. "To hell with him. He's always spoken in riddles. I hate him for that." he huffed, shaking his head. "That was fantastic, what do you mean? As soon as you took that that deep breath, it was like you were a complete different person." she explained, placing her hand over his fist. "Do that again." "I see. Fine. Step back, let me try again." just as before, he took a deep breath and took a stance, yet the impact wasn't as strong as before, yet much better than the first time around. "Why didn't it work...?" "Because now, it's you from the present. The big one was made by the past-you possessing your present-you. As soon as you managed to get your past-self in tandem with your present-self, you'll get your mind and body in complete equilibrium and succeed like this." Ohma looked at the girl, and with a scoff, he flicked her forehead. "Niko didn't die for you to take his place and piss me off with those fancy words and riddles of yours." he chuckled, watching the girl clutch her forehead in pain.  "Well, if Niko was alive, he's have slapped you over the head for being a jerk to your girlfriend." she huffed, but was unable to stop the amused smile on her face. "Girlfriend, huh?" the man teased her - It was a slip of the tongue, but Ohma realised, he didn't really mind calling Kisara his girlfriend. At first, it was weird, being in a 'relationship', while he only wanted to get stronger and get revenge. Partner - He liked that. It sounded like Kisara was his partner in crime... But it wasn't as close as 'girlfriend' was. But 'girlfriend' also sounds rather shallow, and 'lover' almost sounded like she was a mistress. All the other nicknames that she uses for him in private, he loves them, but he couldn't possibly call her the same, they're too sappy. So... What is he left with? Just the best. Hasashi Kisara. Her own name. It was beautiful, just like her, and it had a certain ring to it whenever he called her that. He didn't have many people that he'd call by their full name, it was endearing, and only two people ever had that privilege. Yamashita Kazuo and Hasashi Kisara. "Sounds good to me. And does my girlfriend still want to learn that shitty technique, once I get the hang of it?" he asked, letting his arms rest on her shoulders, his face close to hers. "Of course. But first, you have to eat something, at least while it's still pretty warm. And don't rub your sweat all over me, these are good clothes." she smirked, stealing a quick kiss before ducking down from his arms and going back to the spot where she let the food plate on a smaller rock. "That's not what you say at night." he always loved teasing her. "Well, duh. You don't let many clothes stay on." she muttered, rolling her eyes and stealing the fork from his hand, that was holding a veal steak. "You want me to eat, but you steal my food. Little vixen. I'll just end up eating you." he let out a barked chuckle, getting another piece of meat. "And what a shame that would be~❤️" she let out an enigmatic giggle, looking to the side with rosy cheeks. "Still as shy as always, Hasashi Kisara." he shook his head, yet his smile spoke what words couldn't convey. "A'ight, now get up, let's get to work." he jumped up to his feet and extended his hand towards her, helping her stand. "So, what do I do?" Ohma got behind her, taking off her haori and adjusted her stance so she would be clearing out her head the same way he did when meditating. She took a deep breath and relaxed her muscles, the same as when she was meditating under a waterfall. When she felt ready, she was to prepare and punch Ohma's flexed arm. "Not bad. Go again." The point was to achieve a good punch without prior seconds lost on the meditating. "Good. Faster now." and she amped up her speed. "Harder" in detriment of speed, she managed to amplify the strength of the punch. "You got slower. You have to keep up the speed." it wasn't as easy as he always made it look, but it felt good. "Good girl. That's it. Keep it up." more and more and more, Kisara punched away at his arm until it felt sore. "Okay, that's enough for now, you got the hang of it. It's not wall-breaking punch, but it should do the trick, for now." the two let their guard down. "Oh no, now we're going to the blocking, huh?" she smiled wryly. "Don't test THIS technique on me, please. You'll kill me." "I wouldn't go that far with you. Take this stance - Yeah, like that - The point of it is the complete opposite of the meditation Kata. You have to flex up the part that you'll use to block the hit to the point that it's tougher than the hit itself." the girl's eyes bulged with horror. "Doesn't sound as appealing anymore, does it?" "No, not at all. I don't want to end up with broken bones before the tournament end - I still have like three more night to have fun." she chuckled nervously, getting in the stance instructed. "You won't die, chill out. Alright then. I know you can keep up with my speed, to the point is, flex as hard as you can just before the moment of the impact. Understood?" with a nod of understanding, Kisara got ready. "Here it goes." as promised, the punch wasn't enough to kill her, but it threw her balance off.  "Ouch, that hurt." she muttered, rubbing her arm up and down. "Never said it wouldn't. Try to stay on your feet. Let's go again." the two got in a stance, and the girl took a deep breath, readying herself. Ohma made sure to amp his strength up a bit and he punch the girl. This time, though she stumbled a bit, she was able to keep it up. "Go again." it was Kisara this time who urged her partner to go again, and as he did, she managed to plant her feet well enough that she didn't stumble. "Again." another amp up in strength and speed, and she did just as well. "You're doing good. Let's make it better. Get in the stance and flex with a twist. Stay relax, and use your reflexes to pick up when I'm going to strike. Ready?" with a nod, Kisara let her guard down and took a deep breath. "Ready." it always fascinated the man how she could just drop everything she was doing and look so incredibly focused, like a samurai facing an enemy, ready to lash out the decisive strike. Her eyes were unblinking and fixed on his stance, his shoulders, his fist, his torso and each line of his toned muscles were carefully analysed. As expected, she easily predicted the moment he wanted to hit, and stood her ground, guarding perfectly. "Again." this time, she went harder and faster, and she was able to guard again. "Again." instead of a direct hit, he did a feint first - Though the girl immediately inched back, she swung her arm up to guard only when the real hit was initiated. "Good, good. One more time. I won't coddle you. Ready?" though she gulped, Kisara nodded and got in position. Judging from his tensed up body, he wasn't going to mess around with this one. As soon as he struck her arm, she was sent flying to the ground with a grunt. "Gah, that really hurt..." she held her arm, rubbing and clutching onto it. "Maybe it hurt, but you did good. It's almost the same amount of strength I used in my fight against Inaba Ryo." it was a praise in itself hearing Ohma say he used about the same strength as when he fights professionally. "Thanks for the compliment... And the bruise. You really surprised me... But I don't think I could have done any better." she muttered, getting helped to stand. "I've been training my whole life, Hasashi Kisara. You barely have four or less. It better than most weaklings out there who think they're some real deal. Look at Rihito and Kaneda, or that annoying dancing guy with the stupid hair. You'd destroy them in a fight." and if this didn't make her feel better, the fact that he gave her a piggy-back ride back to their room definitely did the trick.
Though, that night, instead of spending the night in their usual room, Yamashita Kazuo informed them that Nogi had them move to a house, away from the center of the island and away from many other people, in fear of having Ohma scouted by the competition. It was a bit weird, and yet, their own room was much bigger than the suite from the hotel, which was amusing, but no one complained. Even the bed was bigger, though the decorum of the room was... Leaning towards a more eccentric side. The suite was much classier, and Kisara liked it a bit better. Hopefully, she won't be losing her way to this new house, just like she did with their apartment suite many times.
That night, Ohma and Kisara were laying on the bed, looking up at the awfully kitsch painted ceiling, and making jokes about this whole place and whoever was the idiot who came up with all the... Surrealistic art, but in more simple words. Though she was pretty inattentive and reveling in the peaceful relaxation of the atmosphere, the Picasso-esque ceiling, her vision was obstructed by a flock of dark seaweed tickling her face. The cocky smirk of her lover was so close to her, that if she bothered she lean up a bit, she could easily steal a kiss. "Hi." she breathed out softly. "I did a good job with your hair, huh?" she reached out her hand to caress her soft ebony hair - It was always so soft after a proper bath. "Small talk's boring, Hasashi Kisara. Why don't you tell me what you see right now?" he was resting in a position that looked very much like a low plank, his forearms on either side of her head, and his body flushed against hers. "I see the same thing that I see every day. You. Only you. All the time." she smiled tenderly at him, her other hand reaching to his back, pulling him closer to her. "I see the strongest man I've ever known. The man that will always be on top. The one who will win this tournament. How's that? Do I still have perfect sight, or do I need some glasses?" she mused, caressing his face. "Good girl." he let out a teasing breath. "Come 'ere, you little vixen." his hands went underneath her torso and he picked her up in a tight hug, his face nuzzling at her neck. His hot breath was making the girl struggle - She was so ticklish that she couldn't hold it together. She was giggling so much that she had no air left in her lungs. "Ohma. Can you promise me something?" as soon as he stopped messing around, Kisara's voice calmed down. He merely let out a grunt that signaled her to continue her question. "Promise me... You will do everything in your power not to disappear. That's all. Don't disappear on me. Go out there, be the best because you are the best... But don't... Don't disappear." her arms coiled around him in a tight hug. "Disappear? Ha. You've been doing great by yourself. You've now got a shit ton of friends. You won't have time to realize that I'm missing." he chuckled, teasing the girl. "But they're not you." she muttered lightly. "Just because I'm doing fine by myself, doesn't mean that I want to be my myself. I was always looking forward to seeing you again, as soon as you'd leave." Kisara's confession was moving, and Ohma couldn't help but lean away from her neck, getting a good look at her face. She was genuine as always.  With a hum of hilarity, he touched his forehead to her and smiled fondly. "You're abusing the fact that you know I'm into you being upfront with your feelings like that."  "That's what I've always bet on." she offered him that sweet, kitten-like smile before putting him into another loving kiss.
The next morning, early on, all the occupants of the lodging sans the manager woke up around late afternoong - After a wonderful breakfast prepared by one of Katahara's bodyguards, a blond with long hair and an eyepatch. His name was Yoshioka as he was assigned to do just about everything the Yamashita co. people wanted.
In the meantime, Kisara got in her light clothing and took off to meet with Gaolang and Kaneda, who were already there, having conversation. With some small talk going, the trio went deep into the forest, away from prying eyes, so they can warm up and get ready to train. The first teacher was Kaneda, and he explained the gist of his Foresight after hearing that the girl has great reflexes and speed, and though the drawback of this ability is that you need to take several blows to be able to understand the opponent's move pattern and create a complete counter-strategy. To practice this, Kaneda had Gaolang face the girl, so he would be the one pointing out what she must do - Of course, the Thai wasn't going to actually fight the girl, just help her understand how to pull the Foresight.
Much to all their surprise, as soon as Gaolang lunged to throw a punch, Kisara side stepped and grabbed him by the fist and wrist, flipping him and slamming him to the ground. "OH -- SHIT, I'M SORRY, THAT WASN'T INTENTIONAL, I'M SO SORRY GAOLANG!!!" she watched the man laying on the ground with a horrified expression, as the men's eyes were wide. The Thai was looking up at the girl with complete disbelief as she quickly crouched to his level, helping him up. "I'm so sorry for that, I really didn't mean to. It became an instinct... Whenever someone tried to hit me, I throw them away." she apologised profusely for the thousandth time. "That was a good throw. You did mention you knew some fighting techniques but I didn't imagine they'd be at this level. I am impressed." he disspelled all her worried and apologies. "Alright, I don't think Miss Kisara needs much training in the Foresight. I'm a practitioner of the Kujin style, and though it's used as a battlefield hand to hand combat style, I adapted it to my own person. What you did was similar to some of my moves, so I was thinking we could try out some of these moves." the smaller man suggested and thus, he got next to her and showed her each of the stances and postures, when and why to use them, and the physics behind them, while using Gaolang again as the opponent, though this time, he was prepared for a potential beating down, so he defended all her counters. "You're doing well. Let's move on." Gaolang nodded at the girl. "Show me your jabs" "I wouldn't say they are my forte, especially if the opponent is considerably more powerful than me. But I have pretty good speed and balance, so I guess that would work in my advantage." the girl explained, watching as the Thai walked next to her and got in his famous stance, before performing the Flash with 15 jabs, in slow motion, breaking down the technique. Kisara was absolutely fascinated, but more than anything, she was shocked that he was actually teaching her his famous signature move. "Gaolang... This is your move. You made this. You perfected this. I couldn't... I couldn't possibly..." she trailed on, only to feel a pat on her head, followed by a soft smile by the man. "Everyone already knows my move, if they wanted to, they could easily learn it themselves. But you came over to me and Kaneda and asked for help, so we're helping you. I see no reason why you would feel you shouldn't be taught these techniques." with his reassuring, Kisara flashed back a matchingly charming smile and tried to mimic his stance, and with a bit of adjusting, she got the gist of it. Little by little, step forward, step forward, a dangling forearm, followed by numerous jabs that, with each try, got faster and faster, until the master was satisfied with her progress, and had her face him. "No Aikido or other techniques. Let's just practice this. I'll go slower so you can pick up easier on the key points and body movements needed for each strike." the man instructed, and getting a few feet in front of the girl. The two got in their stances, with Kaneda watching and initiating the fight, and the first to move was the instructor.
Though he said he would go slow, he was still remarkably fast - Fortunately, he still wasn't as fast as Hatsumi, so she could follow his moves with great ease and retaliate. With her guard up, and her elbows slightly apart, just like she was taught, she looked through the small gap and made sure she blocked all strikes. Though, she left a bigger gap between her elbows on purpose, tempting the Thai to attack just below the neck - And the temptation paid off, for in that instance, she side stepped and elbowed his wrist away, combining the disruption of the fighting flow that Ohma taught her, and the elbow usage that she mastered with Gaolang's help - And she hit an uppercut to his chin, before doing multiple jabs to his abdomen and diaphragm. If she were taller, she'd have punched his face, like all real fighters do, but due to her being about 25 centimeters shorter than him, elongating her arm fully would not only slow her, but also work in her disadvantage. Keeping her arm slightly bent and quick, repeated punches in key-areas was the perfect strategy for her. "That was ruthless. I didn't expect you to pull off something so sneaky. Well done." the man smiled at her, giving the approval for her performance. "I don't have outstanding strength like all of you, so I have to make it up for my weaknesses in some way. I'm sure Kaneda gets what I mean. I already know I have great reflexes and speed, and I know a few techniques by now, I learnt how to read people's body language... So I need something that would give me the edge over anyone trying to fight me. And that is... Being tricky. My friends always called me a vixen for being playful and devious... So I have to come up with different tricks that would fool my opponents somehow. Watching you all fight in the tournament gives me a ton of ideas. If only I knew how to grapple, I would get even better. Cosmo really fascinates me, but I could never be as resilient as him, and I can't hold grips like him." the girl grinned sheepishly, explaining the reason behind her cunning. "People working hard and smart to overcome their weaknesses are the ones that will win it all, in the end. Just don't give up and keep getting better every day." Gaolang nodded in acknowledgement. "I don't know the reason behind you learning how to fight, but whatever it is, it's clearly a very strong motivator. Keep it up, Kisara. We are rooting for you." "Gaolang's right. Even if we weren't friends, I'd still be rooting for you. As someone weak who strives to be strong, I hope you'll reach the level that you want to achieve." with this encouragement from Kaneda, the trio went their own ways. It was already past lunch so Kisara really hoped there was still something left at home... If Ohma didn't eat everything.
And thankfully, there were still enough food laying around, so with her lunch in her belly now, she went to look for her messy haired boyfriend who was wet from head to toe, standing next to a lake nearby. Who knew this island even had lakes. As soon as she spotted him, she sat down by his side, and they stood like that in silence for a while. They stood like that for a while, but it was weird for them not to say anything for so long. 
"Hey, you. You're awfully silent today. Have you trained too hard?" she asked, leaning her head on his shoulder. "I was just enjoying the very few moments of silence." he teased her, putting his arm around her and pulling her to his side. "Funny as always. That means your training is going perfectly." Kisara looked up at him with a smile, and as expected, that confident smirk was gracing his features. "Is it. I should go back to it soon." he muttered under his breath.  "If I were a fighter, I'd volunteer to spar with you... But I don't think I could do you any good to improve." she let out a small chuckle, only to see the man turn to her abruptly. "Sparing with me means you'll get hurt, yet you'd still volunteer?" the girl nodded. "Why?" he asked her again. "Why, you ask? Because I want to help you win. I'm not a great fighter - No, actually, I'm not a fighter at all... But if I can help with anything, I want to do it." she declared so leisurely that it made Ohma's jaw go agape. "Who are you and what have you done to my Hasashi Kisara?" his tone was filled with disbelief. "Hey, you - Don't be mean to me! I just want to help, what's so wrong with that?" her cute pout only made him pull her into a kiss before getting her up on her feet. "I can't afford to go easy on you if I want a proper sparring." he explained, his hands squeezing her shoulders. "Are you still sure you want to help me out? I already trained with Yoshioka a lot today."  "Uhm... Not the face... Please? I still wanna be pretty?" this sheepish comment earn a chuckle and another sweet kiss before Ohma moved a few steps backwards and got into his stance. Kisara didn't. "Get in your stance." but his order was met with a simple smile as Kisara put her hands in her pants pockets. "I'm not a martial artist, Ohma. I have no stance." she was such a little vixen, always surprising people, even him, after so many years. "Fine, have it your way, Alpha Queen whatever - At the count of 5, begin. Ready?" with a leisure nod of her head, Ohma began the counting. As soon as he reached the last cipher, Ohma lunged at the girl with top speed, yet, to his surprise, the moment he blinked in her proximity, he found himself far away, laying face up on the ground, staring at the clouds. "What the hell was that?" he was absolutely bewildered. Did he slip on something? "Is your back okay, Ohma? I hope you've healed up after yesterday's fight with Ryo." she casually turned around, yet her look expressed her genuine worry for his injuries. "I'm fine." in an instant, he jumped up and went for a high grab, but just as he got about three steps away from her, she fell on all fours and tripped him with her body, making him stumble over. Still, he regained his balance quickly and went for a straight punch, but she had new surprises as always - Just as Kaneda taught her, she side-stepped and grabbed his elbow joint so he wouldn't be able to flex it, and at the same time, she glued her leg to his and threw his balance away with his own technique. Though he was able to recover quickly from it, Kisara went further with Gaolang's fast Flash to his abdomen. "How many people have you trained for so far? By the end of the tournament, you'll get techniques from every fighter." Ohma chuckled, knowing very well what she was doing, as he was very impressed by how far she's gotten, even without him. "Gaolang and Kaneda just a few hours ago." as she admitted that, she saw how Ohma tried to grab her, but instead, she placed her palm on his own, sliding it so that she could get him in an Aikido grab, before she performed Hatsumi's famous Gathering Clouds: Triple Strike on his face. Even though it was nowhere near his level, followed by a punch to his temple, it did the trick. For a split second, Ohma thought he lost consciousness, and with an uppercut to the chin, he was sent on the ground... But that was her weakness. She didn't know wrestling, grappling, tackling or anything closer. Once the opponent was on the ground, she couldn't do what Agito or Cosmo did and wrestle and grapple on the ground, fighting for dominance. She couldn't suffocate anyone. If she couldn't knock the opponent with her strikes and tricks, then she couldn't follow with anything. Even if she mounted him, like Naoya did with Agito, or Cosmo with Adam, but her weight was a feather compared to theirs. Grappling someone 30 kilograms or more heavier than her would be an instant flying away to the other part of the arena. "Why didn't you follow?" Ohma asked, getting up. "I don't know how to. I know what to do all the way until the opponent is on the ground. After that, I haven't come up with a smart way to keeping them there." she admitted. "I see. Now that I've got a hang of your moves, I know how to counter them. You're pretty unpredictable, that's good, especially for someone who's never seen you fight. Let's go." once again, Ohma lunged and was ready to punch the girl's stomach. She was unable to side step or block because of his speed and strength, so she tried to redirect the hit my pushing on his forearm. Though it did work, Ohma already knew that she would do it - It was him who taught her how to use the Redirection Kata, after all - It was Ohma who actually controlled the flow of the battle and turning her to the side, he grabbed her other arm and slammed her to the ground before mounting her.  "Shit, this is scary as hell-" she's been in this position before, and she hated it. She hated it. She hated it so much. Though, she never had anyone actually hitting at her, the position was making her heart scream away with tension and anxiety. It might have been from the adrenaline of the fight, or the fact that Ohma was being rightfully rough and merciless with her, that this old fear of her re-emerged. But she had to fight through. It was Ohma and Ohma was the sweetest man in the world. She's been intimate with him, he'd never hurt her. He'd never. Get a grip, girl, you'll get killed in a fight if you act up like this. Get strong and fight. Fight. Fight.
She kept her guard up through all this, blocking all fights just like she saw Akoya blocking Haruo's blows - But then, she remembered the pelvic thrust that Agito did to get rid of Naoya. What did he do now... He planted his feet to the ground and kept his strength and balance on her upper back and scapula. She knew he had to do sort of a corkscrew turn to the side and get enough momentum - One, two three... UP!
"Nice try, but you're not that greased up asshole, though I'm surprised you were even capable of making me bounce a bit." he praised her, carefully taking her hands away and holding them to his face, a proud look visible. "Thanks for holding back on the punches. You'd have broken my radius and ulna bones." she sighed in relief. "I did promise I wouldn't hurt your pretty face, yes?" he chuckled, leaning down to steal a kiss. "Did you learn that by just watching that bastard's fight?" the girl nodded. "Impressive. If you were a built fighter, you'd have thrown me off. Good girl. You gave me a run for my money today." "What I did won't help you against Raian. All I do is tricks and hit and runs. He's pure strength. He's a beast. He's a monster. He's brawn and brains and 100% bloodlust. I'm... Really afraid that he'll drive you to the edge so much that you'll overuse even the Advance. I want to see you snap his neck like he did to Mokichi." she confessed, squeezing his hands dearly. "Have you forgotten where I spent my whole childhood? I've killed since before I even had a name. That guy is so fucked in the head, I won't have any problem surviving and winning." Ohma chuckled at her. "Let's go again." "Before that - Tonight I'm going to a party. It's club-like, not fancy like before. I know you're not fond of loud music and dancing and all that... But I'm still asking you." Kisara asked as she was helped up an she rubbed her aching spine. "Go have fun. I'll train and sleep in the meantime. Lucky you, the tournament starts around noon, so you can sleep in." he ruffled her hair before stepping away and getting into a stance. "Okay. Let's go. No more mounting, please, that's an instant kill on me." he nodded, and on the count to three, they started sparring again. Though Ohma was dominating as always, Kisara still put a hell of a fight and by the time the moon was beginning to go down, the red head stopped sparring and went to get ready for the party. 
She called up all of her friends and got together in the club-like room. Of course, Cosmo, who never went to a club before, was the most excited to party,, though Akira was just as enthusiastic as he was to have a good drink and have fun. Wakatsuki and Hatsumi were at the table, and while Takeshi didn't drink alcohol that night, Hatsumi was really having fun and flirting around with girls all over.
Loud music, smoke, lots of fun, great songs, blinding, colourful lights, neon paint splattered all over and lots of sexy people dancing and having the time of their life on the dancefloor. Though Kisara wasn't a frequent club client, she always enjoyed her time there, if the music was good and the company was fire - And they definitely were now. Chocolate shots, fruity cocktails, lots of snacks and the whole night was spent like this. Though most of the fighters chose a reasonable hour to go sleep, considering they had to be fresh for their next fight, those who were already out, and some CEOs like Akira didn't leave, as the surfer dude said, 'I couldn't let a beautiful lady all by herself in a club', but really, he just wanted to have more fun, considering the stress this whole competition was putting on him.
By the time 5 AM struck and the Sun was beginning to rise, Akira and Kisara took a barefoot stroll by the shore, letting their feet dip in the water. Though none of them was anywhere close to wasted, they were still a bit sleepy, running on the fun and euphoria from the party. "I had lots of fun. Maybe we can do that tomorrow night too, as celebration for going to the next round." "You've got lots of confidence, don't you?" Akira chuckled at her. "Yeah, I agree. I'm sure Cosmo will win tomorrow. I want to celebrate that." "See~! Of course you've got confidence in your lil' bro. He deserves all that confidence. He's super cool, and he's so young. As his age I was too afraid to go order a coffee from Starbucks." the girl chuckled lightly, looking up at the brightly twinkling stars. The breeze of air was blowing through her fluttering summer dress and her long, now very messy crimson hair. "You? Really? Ha! Wouldn't have guessed." the man teased her, watching her carefree grin as she nodded. "Oh, yeah, totally. Just around the time we first met. I guess you always ordered for all of us when we went out, so you didn't notice, but I was so awkward. I mean, I still am, but not to that degree at least." she started stretching her limbs a bit, enjoying the cool water going up her shins. "You're funny, Red. It's fine, it happens. People are just different, but you grew out of it. You're strong and you fought your fears. But you know what? You totally trip me whenever you make me chase you around. I don't get how you do it, but you always trick me." he laughed, patting her back. "Have you forgotten, Akira? 'Tsuki-san called me a 'Kitsune'. I took that to heart and perfected my tricky skills. I'm just cool like that. I'd like to see you do better, surfer dude." she flicked his forehead, walking towards her lodging. "Do better, she says! What, you think you're cooler than me?" he mocked indignation, only to see her grin wickedly, as if she was a devious fox. "Hella." she sniggered, rushing her speed walk. "Apologise, you little vixen!" she shook her head and started running - Him, after her. "Red, apologise! Admit I'm cooler than you!" "Never~!" he might have been a tennis player and knew some martial arts, but in speed, he couldn't top her, so it was easy to fool around with him, diving under his arm, tripping him and what not.  "See! That's what I'm talking about, you sneaky little fox!" he must have danced far too much, for he stopped and put his hands on his knees, panting. "I win~" and with that, Kisara booped his nose shamelessly. "You're impossible. I can't keep up with you. Good night, Red." he laughed breathlessly, walking away towards his residence as the girl quickly disappeared inside her own temporary home, making sure she doesn't wake anyone up. 
As usual, she took a quick shower and changed into one of Ohma's weirdly comfortable Tshirts that are perfectly large on her, like her nightgowns are. Careful not to make noises, she got in bed next to her man and raising his heavy arm so it would stay over her, she cuddled into his side and let out a sigh of content, only to hear a low chuckle. "You slob. People usually wake up at this hour to work. You go sleep after a night of fun. You're incorrigible." even so, he shifted and pulled her closer to chest, resting his chin on the top of her head. "Just living the life, babe. Livin' la vida loca."
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Top 25 Larry Fics of 2020
h 2020 was HELLISH. So thank you to all the writers, and I mean ALL of them, who kept us occupied as the world continues to burn.
You may be familiar with these lists:
Top 25 Larry fics of 2016
Top 25 Larry fics of 2017
Top 25 Larry fics of 2018
Top 25 Larry fics of 2019
We’re going on our 5th year!!  As always, I read a lot of fic and the majority of it is Larry. I like making lists and I like Larry so I thought I’d do some minimal research of the top 25 larry fics published/completed in 2020 in order of least to most kudos (with links). All of these fics are top notch so you should all check them out!
25.) a trail of honey through it all by @yvesaintlourent (27k)
The boy in front of him, well really, the man in front of him, was like something out of a confusing wet dream. Built, tall, tan and muscular, his skin glistened with sweat after a long day of working outdoors with his hands. He was wearing a cut up old American football shirt, the bottom hem was torn and the sleeves were cut off to the point where the t-shirt was really just a loose tank top. The shorts he had on had clearly been full length jeans at one point, and were now just crudely cut off above the knee. His white socks were pulled up too high on his calves, and the brown work boots he had on were old as fuck, the leather peeling along the edges of the soles. Curly brown hair stuck out from the edges of his backwards snapback, and there was a smudge of grease wiped along his brow bone. The smattering of hair along his jaw proved that he hadn’t shaved in a week or two, the hair growing in thicker across his upper lip and around his chin. His sinfully bowed mouth was pink and plump, and Louis was suddenly hyper-focused on the way that he chewed at the toothpick stuck between his lips. He looked like he needed a shower. Louis wanted to lick him.
Or, the TPH fic we’ve all been waiting for.
24.) even the best laid plans by @falsegoodnight (25k)
“Anyways,” Louis stresses, narrowing his eyes, “just let me say it and then rate how terrible of an idea it is on a scale from one to ten.”
“Alright,” Zayn agrees, sitting up expectantly.
“I want to ask Harry Styles to take my virginity,” Louis blurts, holding his hands out for emphasis.
The way Zayn’s eyes bulge is almost comical. “Negative infinity,” he says, voice choked. “Negative infinity times negative infinity.”
“Technically, a negative times a negative is -”
“Really negative infinity,” Zayn corrects himself, shaking his head wildly. “Louis, what the fuck?”
-
Or, Louis wants to have sex with someone and decides Harry is the perfect alpha for the job.
23.) A Distant Hazy Light by @greenfeelings (76k)
Life’s pretty ordinary for Harry. He lives with his best friend, got into university just like he’s planned, and manages to support himself just fine for an unbonded omega. If he sustains that lifestyle by getting paid to help alphas through their rut every now and then, that’s nothing to be hung up on. Until he’s hired by an alpha that turns everything upside down.
Or, Harry’s working on taking Louis’ walls down, until he builds his own up.
22.) Ghost Note Symphony by whoknows (96k)
Louis is on tour when he first hears about it. It’s all over the news – Harry Styles Attacked By Fan runs in headlines for days. It’s not even just the gossip rags, either. Actual journalists are covering the story. It would have been impossible to avoid hearing about it. Technically, Oli is the one who tells Louis about it, but it’s not exactly being covered up. Harry doesn’t answer Louis’ text asking if he’s alright, but that’s not really surprising. They haven’t spoken for months, and it’s been a lot longer than that since they’ve had a real conversation. The sting of the text going unanswered is still there, less painful than it might have been a few years ago.
It’s not that it’s easy to forget about, exactly. Louis has a whole life outside of One Direction now, though. So Louis goes on with his life, figuring that if Harry was seriously hurt he would have heard about it by now. He might currently be in the same country as Harry, but being on opposite sides of it puts enough distance between them that putting it in the back of his mind is easy. There’s nothing Louis could do, even if he thought Harry might want him to.
That’s why everything that happens next comes as a complete shock to him.
21.) Until by @allwaswell16 (38k)
Rural Eagle County, Colorado wasn’t the type of place to find a famous musician or actor. At least not until songwriter Louis Tomlinson showed up with pop star Niall Horan to visit his uncle’s horse ranch, and they just happened to find themselves next door to a reclusive former movie star.
20.) Strangers in Love by sweetums (42k)
Louis wakes up to find himself in a marriage with the last man he thought he'd ever end up with.
-
Prompt 51: An amnesia fic where louis and harry were enemies to lovers but after an accident, louis only remembers those memories that him and harry hated each other. now harry has to fix it. I think something like this less dark and less angsty compared to other amnesia fics and it could be funny
19.) A Long Way From The Playground by Pink_Sunsets (170k)
One Direction is broken up. They broke up five years ago. That should be the end of the story, right?
Harry is finished with One Direction. He now has a new life, one with two kids and a successful solo career. And he’s happy.
But a call one night from management flips Harry’s whole new life upside down, and he’s forced to face the life he had left behind.
As well as a certain blue eyed man who had left him behind.
18.) my love’s not simple (it’s fragile) by @falsegoodnight (27k)
“Can I take you out tomorrow?” he asks. “My shift ends at 7 but we can go for dinner at 8.”
Louis is silent for a few seconds and then, “Like… on a date?”
Harry swallows thickly. He hasn’t done this in years, hasn’t ever wanted to. “Yeah.”
He’s worried he’s misread things but then Louis raises his head to kiss Harry’s cheek. “Yeah,” he says easily. “Sure.”
Tension leaves his body swiftly. “Are you sure?” asks Harry. “I know we’re both so busy but I can’t not try with you, Lou.”
“Neither can I,” says Louis. “I think we can figure it out. I care about you a lot Harry. We’ve known each other for a week, but I already like you so much.”
-
Or Harry's new job is threatened by his impending rut. Desperate for a solution, he allows Niall to introduce him to Louis, an omega whose heat begins the same day. They click.
17.) Cocaine for Breakfast by @harryeatsburger (309k)
“It’s an easy job.” He continues, as if Louis wants to listen. “Like I said, a few trips. Parties, students, nothing dramatic.”
Louis gazes over to Harry. He’s looking thoughtful now, eyes on the green like he’s talking more to himself than Louis.
“Clubbing, drinks. Whatever, the business is just a side thing.”
That’s not how Louis remembers it to be, “You lying?” He honestly can’t tell.
Harry shakes his head slowly, meeting Louis' eyes.
“No,” He answers almost toneless. Harry clears his throat, “I won’t put you in any dangerous situation.” His voice is sincere, Louis can tell he means it, his jade green eyes glinting with truth.
or, - Louis Tomlinson is a drug addict, sent away from his beloved party-scene to recover. There, he discovers that small towns have just as much access to drugs as London did, plus something even better that he just can't get enough of. That something is a boy with green eyes and bouncy curls named Harry Styles. -
16.) Tastes like Strawberries by @sadaveniren (4k)
I’m stressed. I’m nesting and demand cuddles. Come over
Harry frowned and double checked who the text was from. Yup, it still said Louis - Grad, which meant it was from Louis from his grad school.
aka Louis texts Harry by mistake. It works out
15.) the way the storm blows by @rbbsbb (21k)
Louis doesn’t have a habit of thinking about Harry’s dick.
That would be weird, seeing as they’re best mates, and they share a flat, and they’ve spent holidays at each other’s family homes. Their friendship hasn’t ever risen to a point where Louis should want to see his mate’s dick, and he’s happy to keep it that way.
Except, all that Louis can think about is exactly that. The size of it. The shape. The amount of people it’s been in.
Maybe it’s the tequila talking, or the fact that Louis’ just recently walked in to an eyeful of Harry taking turns on some slags that he’s never seen before, but. Louis’ mind can’t stop obsessing over the idea.
14.) bruise you like a peach by @falsegoodnight (40k)
There’s two reasons Harry despises Econ.
The first is that it’s boring as fuck. The second reason is a bit more personal, a bit more focused in a way. As in it’s focused on one specific thing, or in his case, person.
His name is Louis Tomlinson.
13.) Watching The World Fall by whoknows (11k)
This segment has been going on long enough that Louis knows what’s coming before James starts in on it, trying to sell him on something he knows that Louis wouldn’t normally be buying. But there’s four cameras surrounding him, and an audience watching him expectantly, so if Louis wants to continue convincing people that he’s doing just fine, he’s going to have to go along with it.
“We have a whole host of single men backstage waiting to meet you, Louis,” James tells him. “We want to help you find love tonight, on Late Late Live Tinder. Is this okay? Do you want to play?”
It actually kind of makes sense that his first date after the break-up is going to be just as public as said break-up. Something like coming full circle.
“Alright, James,” Louis agrees, hopping down off his stool.
“Okay, come down to the stage,” James says. Louis can’t even tell whether the excitement in his voice is genuine or not. “Right now, come on down!”
12.) Quiet People Have the Loudest Minds by @2tiedships2 (38k)
Broadway shows were one of the few things that could keep Louis’ attention for a full two hours without needing to move about. But not tonight.
The alpha next to him was both infuriating him and practically turning him on at the same time. He needed to leave. The alpha, that is. Louis was staying.
Or the one where Louis is a nonverbal omega who has accepted the fact that he will never find an alpha that will treat him as an equal. On the other hand, he’s never met anyone like Harry.
11.) The Wrath of the Emerald Eyes by @purpledandeli0n (85k)
His chin is grabbed harshly, facing the two deep green eyes that have been getting on his nerves for the past ten minutes. The smirk on the man's face does not vanish. The grip of his hand on Louis' chin does not soften, his thumb at the side of his lower lip.
His smile widens as he answers Louis' question, ''My name is Styles, but you will call me Captain."
Pirate AU
10.) Canyon Moon by @eeveelou (40k)
For as long as Louis has remembered, he has been promised to be mated to Harry, his best friend and the future pack alpha. But Louis’s heart belonged to the forest and to the hunt more than he could ever imagine it belonging to Harry.
Then Harry’s father dies in a violent accident, and Louis’s future alpha disappears on the wind.
An A/B/O Lion King AU
9.) We Both Got Nothing to Hide by lovelarry10 (43k)
“Talk to me, Lou.”
“I can’t,” Louis mumbled, knowing he genuinely couldn’t say it. He couldn’t admit to what he was doing. “Don’t ask me to say it, because I can’t.”
“Then… I’ll try and guess. You’ve… got some stuff of Harry’s. Something of his to make it smell like him?”
Louis just nodded, eyes fixated on the floor. This was humiliating, but he knew Zayn wouldn’t stop until he found out what was going on.
“Okay. Like… a blanket, or a comforter or something?”
“Kind of…”
//
Omega Louis has a secret nest. Alpha Harry keeps losing his clothes.
8.) sleeping on our problems by @falsegoodnight (67k)
I’m in love with you, Louis thinks. He feels empty, weighed down by his sadness and the loss of Harry inside him just moments ago before his knot finally went down.
There’s moments where he’s sure Harry feels the same. Like now, when he’s gazing down at Louis with so much adoration and tenderness. It’s like they’re both on the cusp of something more, but neither of them ever say a word.
His confession is on the tip of his tongue ready to slide out like honey, and yet he remains silent. They both do, looking at each other and recognizing the reluctance mirrored in each other’s eyes. It’s then that Louis realizes they’re both scared.
-
Or Louis sleeps with Harry and they have more than just catching feelings to worry about.
7.) like it’s a game by @soldouthaz (32k)
there is little harry hates more than truth or dare.
and louis.
6.) before we knew by @falsegoodnight (39k)
“C’mon Lou,” says Zayn after a moment, He sounds even more exasperated than before. Louis sort of has a knack for exasperating people, especially people like Zayn who aren’t usually bothered by his brattiness. “Can’t you give this guy a chance? Harry Styles? Aren’t you curious about him at all?”
Despite his best efforts, Louis still flinches at the name. He really shouldn’t be so affected after all these years. He’s seen the name printed down the curve of his waist in obnoxiously and uncommonly large loopy letters every single day since his sixteenth birthday eight years ago. He’s very familiar with the name Harry Styles.
It sounds pretentious and Louis hates it.
He hates everything about his supposed soulmate.
He hates his large handwriting that stands out like a claim on his skin whenever he’s walking around shirtless. He hates his pretentious name. And now he hates his supposed curls and green eyes and dimples.
-
Or Louis has been skeptical of soulmates for years so it seems like fate when he finally bumps into the owner of the obnoxiously large signature printed into his skin since age sixteen: Harry Styles, a human rights attorney who is firmly against soulmates.
5.) Mine Would Be You by @crinkle-eyed-boo (114k)
Louis blinks his eyes open, his eyelids fluttering as the room swims around him. He takes several gulps of beer once he confirms that he’s definitely not hallucinating, that the very first portrait Harry Styles ever painted of him is hanging on that wall.
Louis stares at the wall, his heart jackrabbiting in his chest as he realizes that there’s not just one painting of him, there’s five, the portraits lined up like they’re some sort of storyboard depicting the rise and fall of his deepest love. His greatest heartache. A pain that cut him so deep that he left the fucking country, severing all ties with his life in New York, now suddenly surrounding him as if he’d never left.
Fucking shit motherfucker fuck.
Louis returns to New York City five years after he left it – and the love of his life – behind. He didn't intend to see Harry again, but fate has a funny way of pulling them together, whether they like it or not. After making a begrudging truce, they both start to wonder: Would it be so bad if history repeated itself?
4.) You’ve Got My Devotion (Hate You Sometimes) by @harryrainbows (95k)
Harry was in the biggest boy band in the world. He was also one half of the best (or worst, depends on who you ask) kept secret relationship in the music industry.
Now, almost five years on, after One Direction has broken up, and Harry and Louis' relationship has as well, a video threatens to put everything at risk.
One determined Irishman, a massive publicity stunt and two begrudging exes are all it takes to bring One Direction back to life and maybe, just maybe, Harry and Louis' mangled love life too.
Or: Harry and Louis are forced to fake-date after an old video from when they were dating emerges.
3.) The Space Between by @lads-laddylads (39k)
Harry Styles is the alpha rockstar who can’t sleep and doesn’t know why.
Louis Tomlinson is the omega PhD student who helps him figure it out.
2.) Nothing But You On My Mind by @absoloutenonsense (83k)
Louis Tomlinson is a PR manager hired to improve the image of royal bad-boy Prince Harry Styles. Unfortunately for him, that means being faced with the Prince's constant innuendos, incessant dirty jokes, and relentless flirting. Louis just wants to make it to Princess Gemma's coronation; once she's crowned Queen, his contract is up and he never has to see the Prince again.
1.) Collision by @tequiladimples (224k)
Mythology/Fairytale!AU in which Louis is a dainty fairy with a temper who wants to be intimidating and Harry hurts people. Naturally, they hate each other.
(Featuring Liam, the big and not-so-bad wolf who’s got a thing for humans, Zayn, a human with supernaturally good looks, and Niall, the cupid who just wants his job to be easier.)
967 notes · View notes
morimakesfanart · 3 years
Text
Sindria's Prophet #17
[1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] [8] [9] [10] [11] [12] [13] [14] [15] [16]
[AO3]
*In this house we stan string theory and multiple dimension theory *Also, this chapter gets a little preachy, and delves more into my interpretation of the series so to make up for it I made a lot of art.
~POV Sinbad~ "If you're willing to talk about the future, does that mean you are finally ready to explain about those calamities you mentioned in Balbadd?" When Ja'far cut in he was in a rush; he didn't want to miss this chance. Sinbad had underestimated Ja'far's concerns; he had been too preoccupied with the Prophet. All the same, "I don't know if this is the time for that conversation. This is Mori's first meal with everyone after all." Wait. He knew that look. Ja'far wasn't actually asking to have that conversation now. He was pressuring Mori so she would have to agree to tell them soon. "I'm fine. I made a promise and I intend to keep it. As long as everyone else is willing to talk seriously for a few mins, I don't see the problem." Mori was wearing the same stern expression she had the morning of the coup in Balbadd. When Ja'far had cut in with his request he could have tried to sound a little nicer but it didn't warrant the cold response Mori gave in return. There had been rising tensions between Ja'far and Mori since Balbadd, but both seemed to get along most of the time. "Wait really? You're agreeing this easily?" Ja'far's shock also spoke for the King. She obviously didn't want to talk about the Calamities even when she promised to tell them, so why now? "A promise is a promise." Mori almost felt like a completely different person compared to the coy way she was teasing them all just moments ago. "Besides, this will just continue to be a point of contention until I explain."
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--- King Sinbad was finally eating with his Generals and Prophet, but this was nothing like he had planned. Mori sat straight with both hands on the table interlocked. "The 1st of the 2 calamities occurs in about 2 years. As you know, there's a few countries that currently have rising tensions." Which countries? The Kou and Riem were prime contenders since they were already Empires causing trouble for other countries. There was also Magnostadt which has been becoming increasingly hostile to other nations, and seemed to be encroaching on the Kingdom of Actia. "In 2 years, 3 of them are going to go to war. A massive amount of black Rukh will be released, and the same type of magic used to make the Dark Djinns will be used to make a humanoid monster the size of a mountain." Of course, Al Thamen would be involved. "The amount of black Rukh it will have will make it a Medium for opening a black spot and letting Ill Ilah connect to the world which is Al Thamen's ultimate goal. Once Ill Ilah connects it will destroy all of the white Rukh in the world -bringing death." It sounded just like what Falon had described as her plan all those years ago. The same thing that happened in Parthevia a decade ago is going to happen again in only 2 years? "The Medium is destroyed before that can happen thanks to all of the current Metal Vessel users and assimilated Household Members coming together to destroy it. The world is saved but in the process one of the Magi will have to commit one of the ultimate taboos of this world. That taboo is what will eventually lead to the 2nd Calamity. If King Sinbad and the Metal Vessel users of the Seven Seas Alliance, which were the last to arrive, can show up sooner then that taboo and the 2nd Calamity might be something that can be fully avoided especially since I already know the Medium's weakness." It was clear that Mori knew more. Sinbad would have to talk to her about it later; he wasn't sure how much he wanted to talk about this tonight -they were supposed to be celebrating and getting to know each other light heartedly. However, there was one question he couldn't hold back from asking. "What is this taboo?” Mori sighed like she had expected that question. She looked to the ceiling. "Honestly, I didn't want to think it was a taboo when I first learned it, but after seeing what happens I get it now." She looked back at them. "I hope you can accept me not telling what it is. I don't want to even try to explain the 2nd Calamity because I'm not sure how without explaining the taboo. You see, the taboo involves information, so if I explain it to you I will be committing the taboo myself. I can only hope that the world isn't endangered because I know it." The air in the room felt thick. All of the Generals were waiting for his decision. Sinbad tried to read the Prophet's expression. It was serious, and determined; it seemed like fear and remorse were hiding right under the surface. What information could be dangerous on its own? "Alright," he agreed. "We don't want to take any unnecessary risks. However, if we are unable to prevent the taboo from being committed you will explain the 2nd Calamity." Mori attempted a half-hearted smile. "I was already planning to do that." She glanced around at the Generals. "Are there any other questions?" Sharrkan grumbled. "This is all really complicated stuff." "Yeah. Pretty scary, huh?" Pisti agreed. Drakon and Hinahoho were sharing a look while thinking.
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"You still haven't told us where this is going to happen." Ja'far decided he would ask the next question. "Are you withholding that information on purpose?" Mori's expression was blank. "I'll tell you the countries involved after King Sinbad returns from the Kou Empire. I don't want to influence how the negotiation goes by giving him too much information he wouldn't normally have. I'm doing this for Balbadd..." Mori withholding vital information was the entire cause of Ja'far's distrust of her. "You took too long to tell us what was going to happen back in Balbadd, remember? If we know what their next target is then we can stop it before it ever happens." "The 1st Calamity has nothing to do with Al Thamen." "What?” that question was asked by all except the Prophet. Mori explained, "That country has refused contact with them and been building towards this for the past 10 years all on its own. All of the Black Rukh that has been accumulated there is like a trap waiting to be set off. The people currently in charge are not people who would be willing to accept change, or to listen to the arguments of the people here." That definitely narrowed it down. Riem was already having meetings with them, and it was only a matter of time before they formed an alliance. They already had the peace treaty with the Kou, and King Sinbad was about to go negotiate with them for Balbadd. That only left Magnostadt as the center of the conflict -the country they knew had increasing disparity between it's upper and lower classes. Mori was staring at him. He wasn't the one she was actually hiding this from. Since it didn't seem to be an avoidable Fate, she was preventing Yam from learning the Fate of her home country for as long as possible. Mori was trying to be considerate. "How is that possible?” "If they aren't behind it then how could such a thing happen??” Mori gave a sad smile. "It would be so much easier if all of the bad things in this world really were all caused by that organization. I had wrongly thought that was how this world works in the heat of the moment back in Balbadd, but I know better. I've read this world's Fate after all. Even in this world it is a mistake to hold onto the hope of total altruism too strongly." It almost felt like she was calling them all naïve with that last statement. She looked down at her hands. "Sentience, experience and free will make us all imperfect. All people are shaped by their past and everyone has a vice. There will always be people who think they are above everyone else, people who think they are right because of their feelings, people who think that they deserve something just because they want it or that they can do something because it is available to them," she looked back up and made direct eye contact with her King, "people that think that their luck or privilege is a sign that they were chosen by Fate, that they are the only one who can do something because they are special and that that means they are righteous and their failings mere stepping stones when in reality they are all normal people just like the rest of us." ///She knows nothing about being a Singularity. There's no greater proof of being chosen by Fate!/// Since the Fall of First Sindria, Sinbad had been hearing a voice periodically. It was like stray thoughts -many were opinions he didn't really have. The fact that the voice felt the same as him in this made a pit form in his stomach.
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Mori gestured at him and continued. "Even his Majesty being a 'Singularity' is only something rare. You aren't the first, and you won't be the last. You know I can read the waves of Fate as well, so it's obviously not the type of thing that you or Al Thamen makes it out to be. There is no 'chosen one.' No one is immune to human fault or failing. 'Fate' is the history of how all of our decisions affect each other.” It was like she was reading his thoughts. There were other Singularities? Mori could also read the waves but- The waves in the room were over flowing. This was greater than when Mori changed things in Balbadd. They were far off topic now, but this was more important. ///She doesn't understand anything. I've read Fate!/// Those stray thoughts hated Mori and how she was changing things since the beginning even though when Sinbad read the waves around her he liked the direction they were going. Her waves wouldn't stop him from reaching his dream. If that voice was this against what she was doing then he had to know more. "Mori, please tell me, what makes you so sure? You say you've read Fate; how can you say there isn't a grand plan? Can you really deny that the Rukh guide us?" Would they have to agree to disagree? Was this something he could afford for the Prophet of his own country to not see his way? She watched him and the Generals as she thought. "There is a 'plan,' but it isn't absolute. I read more than one 'Fate' for this reality. If Fate was already fully decided then in Balbadd Judar would have defeated all of you instead of being crushed by Ugo, and Cassim would have married Princess Kougyoku instead of dying, but that didn't happen, now did it? When I read Fate, I read how it was changed from it's original design by the people of this world. And as I've already said, I couldn't be here if everything was already decided.” ((these are things that are said to be in the og draft of Magi, but got changed when actually making the scenes)) They had been changing Fate's course before Mori arrived? Was that even possible? Mori wasn't the type to lie out right over something like this. Between her demeanor and the waves, he could tell she wasn't lying. He had to know where this new path was leading and asked an obvious question. "Isn't it just as likely that those 'changes' were supposed to happen?" Mori scowled at that. "Anything is true somewhere. There are infinite realities where any Fate is true. Every moment infinitely more form to account for every possibility -every decision, and unexpected change, even an asteroid coming and destroying the planet. If you can imagine it, it is reality somewhere." Sinbad had read Fate in the waves, of course he knew about there being other possibilities. Were there really other realities where he had followed one of the other paths? Mori didn't wait for him to comment. "There's no way to know which destiny or Fate we are following until it's already happened. Being able to read the waves has helped me narrow it down to 2 or so of the Fates that I read for this reality, but it can't account for everything. Since I can't read my own Fate I can't know how my presence will affect things." Mori continued, "When I read this reality's Fate, I learned how it functions on a fundamental level. Everything is made up of Rukh and is dictated by the Rukh and magoi. The Great Flow of the Rukh 'guides' the living but it is also affected by the wants and desires of the living. It sees all those wishes and creates opportunities for people to realize those dreams based on how many want that dream to become real. But it's still up to the living how they react. The Great Flow creates opportunities and makes suggestions, but it can't make your decisions for you. And" Mori paused while looking for the right words, "and the more magoi directed at a certain wish the more likely the Great Flow will try to help." Mori waited for them to absorb the meaning of her words. That meaning made Sinbad nervous. If she wasn't lying... Drakon broke the silence. "That would mean that someone with
a lot of magoi would have a greater affect on the Great Flow." "It does." Mori confirmed. Was that really how the Great Flow of the Rukh worked? How Fate worked? Mori stayed silent again, reading them as much as they were reading her. The waves were still high. Yam was the next to comment. "I know the amount of magoi a person has defines how strong of a magician they can become, but it sounds like those born with a lot of magoi also have an amazing privilege when it comes to the Great Flow." "Exactly." Mori agreed. "The people that Fate seems to favor aren't chosen by Fate or particularly special. They are born lucky just like those born rich." She paused. "All Dudgeon Capturers have an above average amount of magoi. A Djinn won't select a King that doesn't even have enough magoi to use their power. The more Djinns a person has, the more magoi they need to have. King Sinbad, you were born with a rare ability, and the equivalent magoi of a large city or small county -even before all that Rukh merged with you in Parthevia. If you didn't, there would be no reasons for the Djinns to cut you off from trying to capture more Dungeons." "What?" Sinbad's question slipped out of him in an airy gasp. He knew he had more magoi than average, but this would make him no different from those that grew up as royalty thinking that they were inherently better than their poor subjects. He wasn't sure if he could believe her, but the waves of Fate had never lied to him. The Prophet's waves were overwhelming the space, encouraging him to believe her. It was obvious how this information would change things. King Sinbad had more than the waves, he also had a sharp intuition. There was something hidden in her words. Some truth about his future that she hadn't told them yet. Even if he had been intentionally given these privileges by Fate, Mori had already stated that his decisions were his own. When Mori had said there were people that conflated their privilege with a righteous roll given by Fate it definitely included him. But if he wasn't chosen by Fate, if they had been changing Fate all along, then what was what happened in Parthevia or Riem? Mori's voice pulled him out of his thoughts. "Not being chosen by Fate and everyone having free will is a good thing if you ask me. It means when someone chooses to do right by others it is because they chose to, not because someone is forcing or directing them. I like to think that everyone thinks they are doing the right thing, and only act out against others because of strong emotions and ignorance. The cure for most negative emotions is a stable environment ((including medication for those who need it)) and the cure for ignorance is education. These are things that Sindria and the Seven Seas Alliance are able to provide. "All of you are using your privileges and talents to help people, and to bring peace to the world. Regardless of whatever mistakes you made in the past, this country and the current state of the world are a direct result of your choices. These choices you've all made are even more admirable because you made them on your own. Isn't that why so many have sided with Sindria already? It's also one of the main reasons I chose to become Sindria's Prophet in the first place. With your help, we can greatly reduce the disparity of this world and raise the quality of life for everyone." Her smile was soft and confident. Mori's waves overtook his own.
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The King had a thought that shook him, but it was Hinahoho that asked it, "You didn't just tell us some of the taboo information, did you?" "What? No." Mori was shocked by that question. "His Majesty and others would have figured this out all on their own in about 5 years -not to mention those that already know it." He could try to deny it, return to the path he was on, but he would know deep down that she was right. And apparently, he would figure this out in the future anyway. There was no reason to hold himself back then. He could see that now -there was no going back. This was one of the changes he had felt in her waves from when he first met Mori. ///How can she say such foolishness?? This woman must die before she ruins everything!!/// A chuckle slipped out of Sinbad. That voice really did hate his Beautiful Prophet. His waves were changing. He was changing. But he still had the same dream: to create a world without war or poverty. Mori's goal was to remove disparity. Even their goals worked well together. Why had he been so sure that being a Singularity made him some special chosen one? When had that started? It was members of Al Thamen that had told him that. They were the enemy yet he still believed their manipulation so completely. Sinbad knew why deep down. If he was chosen by Fate then his actions would be righteous and the awful things he experienced were stepping stones. Like a child learning to take responsibility and step out of the shadow of their parents, in this too he would have to take ownership for his place in the world. He would be thinking about this a lot in the coming days. All of this information was invaluable. Why did Mori choose to follow him if she knew all this? There was no way she didn't know how he viewed himself and the world before this conversation or the mistakes he had made. Was it thanks to opportunities that the Great Flow gave him that he was able to seduce her to his side? No. Mori already knew what was going to happen. She knew the future more clearly than what the waves could show. She knew him and his methods as well. She knew that the Kou Fleet had been on it's way. That meant Mori would have been deciding where she wanted to go and weighing her options from the beginning. Mori made her decision, gave him a slow drip feed of what she was capable of, and made sure each request he had of her was given a price. She wasn't just withholding her help due to a lack of trust; she was leading him to make the best possible offer. She knew that he would try to bring her to his side if he knew her value. He had played into her hands not the other way around. Why didn't this realization upset him? This new information wasn't going to stop him from achieving his dream. In fact, now that he had a better idea of how the Great Flow worked he could consciously use it to his advantage. He got what he wanted and it was mutual -not simply Fate. They both wanted this. This was making him excited. The smile on her face was one he recognized. He had worn it when he was young whenever he had convinced others to his side. Mori was cut from the same cloth. She had agreed to have this conversation not just because of Ja'far's insistence; she was after the opportunity to clear up his misunderstanding about Fate. ((plz ignore that I forgot to draw my freckles in most of the shots and am too lazy to fix it.))
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fandomficsnstuff · 3 years
Text
Little Dragon - Part 13
Summary: You were a child slave of Meereen, when one day a silver haired woman sets you free. Though your master isn’t too keen on letting you go, and Daenerys took personal action to see you freed and taken care of.
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(Warnings: talks of former slavery, time skips and it’s a bit fast forwarded, Jorah’s death, lots of angst I think, let me know if I missed anything, stay safe out there ya’ll!)
High Valyrian is in cursive
And Dothraki in bold
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You kept your head down as you rode on your horse, a fairly new experience for you, but it was similar to riding Rhaegal, just smaller, less scaly and less windy, you had reigns to hold onto, and a saddle to sit in. You were broken out of your train of thought as you heard your name called, turning your head to see none other than Jon Snow, giving you a nervous glance “hello” he said awkwardly, making you look ahead, spotting Daenerys talking with Missandei, before turning back to him “Lord Snow, can I help you with something?” he grimaced a bit, but still gave you a smile “if it’s alright, I would prefer if you didn’t call me Lord” you nodded “forgive me, I don’t know what to call you then. All these… customs are new to me, I have only lived with them for a few years now” Jon frowned at your words “how long then?” you shrugged as you looked ahead again “around five, I was ten when our Queen Daenerys found me” you smiled at the memory, glancing at Jon who only gave you a look that silently asked you to explain further.
“You see, I was a slave, in Mereen,” Jon immediately frowned “but you were a child?” he sounded disturbed, and it brought a tiny sense of envy, envy that he didn’t grow up with such horrible things “yes, though that didn’t concern my former master. I remember the day that Daenerys liberated Mereen, I remember seeing her silver hair in the street as she walked with the freed children, but I was still a slave. My master had let his other slaves go but not me, he kept me locked up in his small pyramid… Daenerys saw me watching her in the window, so she waved at me. I remember being so scared of my master that I looked over my shoulder before I waved back, I was so scared of how many beatings I would get if he caught me, but he didn’t, anyway, I must have leaned over the edge of the window, because she saw my collar. I remember how angry she looked as she walked into the house, she immediately had my master thrown in the cells, and then she saw me, on the steps, watching her again” you smiled warmly at the fond memory, a few tears building up in your eyes, but as you looked back at Jon, he seemed horrified and confused, looking away from you as he thought over your words, as if he didn’t know what to say “it’s alright, Jon Snow, I wouldn’t want your sympathy” he looked at you with confusion, something that made you smile ever so slightly, he didn’t know why you didn’t want sympathy.
“I don’t want sympathy because that is not why Daenerys took me in as her own, at least I’d like to believe it wasn’t. Yes, she felt bad for me, but I remember seeing those purple eyes of hers… I remember how safe I felt. It was only later that I learnt of Rhaego. Perhaps she saw in me what she had lost, or maybe it really was just sympathy, whatever it was, I no longer wear a collar, my body no longer bears bruises except for those I earned in training. Daenerys may not have carried me, but she is my mother. That is why I do not want sympathy, Jon Snow, because I no longer need it, I am no longer in a position where it keeps me alive” you finished, speeding up your horse to join Daenerys and Missandei, leaving behind a sympathetic, but understanding Jon Snow.
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Your lips slightly parted in awe as you neared Winterfell, you felt as though the only grounding force that told you it wasn’t a dream was Rhaegal and Drogon above you, their roars and the sound of their wings let you know you were wide awake, and you finally turned to Ezzo, smiling amazed at him before looking back to Winterfell. You had read about it in Mereen, and you remembered how out of all of the cities, you wanted to see Winterfell the most, and here you were, approaching it slowly as people of the north watched you ride by. You felt Ezzo’s hand gently nudge your knee, making you look at him as he gave you a smile “what?” you asked as he just looked at you, he shrugged and just kept smiling “just wanted to look at you” you blushed at his words, the colour of you (Y/S/C) cheeks flushing red, and you looked away, much to Ezzo’s dismay, he thought it looked beautiful with your (Y/E/C) eyes. You shook your head, almost as if you tried to shake off the blush on your cheeks, but you couldn’t shake off the smile that graced your lips “I’ve read a lot about Winterfell, it was built so long ago, it’s said to be built over there natural hot springs, so even though it’s snowing, the castle is much warmer than it looks” you looked back to Ezzo, only to find him already looking at you, and you refrained from saying anything, just enjoying the soft look he gave you as you looked back to Winterfell.
You marvelled at how big it actually was, and Daenerys, upon seeing your face, couldn’t help the smile that found it’s way to her lips.
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You sat tense by Daenerys’ side, something she had noticed long ago. You were cold, colder than before. When you read about the hot springs under Winterfell, you had hoped it would have given more of an impact, but here you were, willing yourself to stop shaking, while your mother sat quite comfortably, since she was a Targaryen. Your eyes scanned the crowd as a way to distract yourself, and you noticed how everyone seemed to love Jon, everyone knew him, adored him, admired him, and you could see, out the corner of your eyes, Daenerys’ smile wavering, she noticed as well. Daenerys was so used to being loved back in Essos, in Essos she was the Breaker of Chains, the Unburnt, the Mother of Dragons, Khaleesi of the Great Grass Sea, she brought wonder and awe to people’s lives as she entered them, but here, here she was the foreign queen who their king had knelt to, the daughter of a madman, leader of an army of savages, and you imagined how much it must hurt her, so turning to her you gently nudged her, giving you her attention, and you knew the smile she put on her lips were fake, it was forced and stretched, like a piece of leather being forced over shapes it wasn’t meant to embrace.
You got up, pulled your new arakh out from behind your back and sat back down, your whole body facing her as you showed it to her “Ezzo gave it to me” you let her hold it and study it, watching her smile fade as realization struck her “your name day…” your own smile fell, you hadn’t meant to force it upon her, she was busy, it was a time of war, you understood how she could forget it, so you quickly shook your head “Mhysa I-... I didn’t mean it like that I just… wanted to show you… he carved the handle himself and-”
“I’m so sorry, Little Dragon” she looked heartbroken and you quickly shook your head again, reaching out for her hands “no, no Mhysa, please don’t be, we’re at war, I nearly forgot it myself, as have Missandei, please don’t feel bad. We’re all busy, you most of all, and after Viserion-” you stopped yourself there, knowing you’d get nowhere with her, and mentioning Viserion would only bring the both of you pain, you could already feel the tears building up in your eyes “I will do my best to correct this, I swear, (Y/N)” you sighed, taking back you anakh, putting it on the table, leaning over and hugging her “you don’t have to, just be happy” you whispered the last bit, feeling her arms finally wrap around you to embrace you as well. Once you parted you saw how sad she still was, which made you feel a guilty, you hadn’t meant to force it upon her, you heard her give a short sigh, turning back to look at the different people, studying them and how they loved Jon Snow, you followed her gaze, and you couldn’t help moving your hand down to gently grasp hers, she was so warm compared to you, her Targaryen blood had fire running through her veins “you are so cold, are you freezing?” you turned to look at her concerned expression, making you smile slightly “no, no I’m just cold. Mhysa, you’re a Targaryen, you have fire in your veins” you giggled slightly, and she joined you, briefly, before looking back over the the northerners “they’ll love you, you know, they’re just scared, perhaps even a bit betrayed, they trusted their king to never kneel again and then he did it, they’re just angry, but I don't blame them, who wouldn’t be in this cold?” you whispered the last bit to her, making her grin and do her best to hold in a laugh that you knew wanted to tear it’s way out of her and make itself known to everyone in the room, a thought that kept you warmer than the fires your brother’s breathed.
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You frowned as you stared at her in disbelief, taking in her words, each time you tried to decipher it a new frown appeared on your forehead “but-...” you leaned back in your chair, your gaze off to the side, not looking at anything in particular. You finally looked back at Daenerys, seeing her being torn between worlds as well. You leaned forward, gently grasping her hand in yours “who knows, Mhysa?” she swallowed the lump in her throat before speaking up “his brother, Bran, Samwell Tarly, and he’s going to tell his sisters” you frowned at her last statement “but I thought he loved you?” at yours words Daenerys finally let a tear roll down her cheek, all her life she had believed she was the true heir to Westeros, and now, now all of the sudden she wasn’t, the goal she had worked her way towards her whole life was gone, snuffed out, like a candle in a storm. You sighed heavily and got up “and he says he doesn’t want the throne?” you looked out a window before back to Daenerys, seeing her nod briefly and weakly, making you sigh again “then that’s that, Mhysa, he doesn’t want it, you are the heir to the Seven Kingdoms, you are the Queen of Westeros, there is nothing else to it” you kneeled down in front of her, you knew how much this meant to her.
She gently shook her head “it doesn’t matter what he wants… he’s the rightful heir and the people-”
“No! Mhysa… you’ve worked towards this your entire life! He doesn’t want the throne, they can’t force him upon it, can they? I-... I know you love him… I know you haven’t said so but, the way you look at him, and the way he looks at you, he loves you as well, I’m not-... experienced in love but, you have to at least trust that, right?” Daenerys sighed and looked at you, raising a hand to gently hold your cheek, you leaned into her touch and she smiled at the gesture “my sweet little dragon” she whispered, leaning over and placing a kiss on your forehead, her eyes closed as yet another tear fell from them.
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You glared at your mother as she looked at you with a pleading look “I am not going into the crypt, I want to fight!” Daenerys sighed, you two had been at it for almost an hour now “(Y/N) there is nothing to discuss, please, my little dragon, do as I say. You have a responsibility, you’re the heir to the throne, my ONLY heir, please, I can’t let anything happen to you” you sighed as she used your nickname in Valyrian, mulling over her words before finally giving a weak nod, making Daenerys close her eyes in pure relief. You sighed heavily as you walked down the steps, mumbling annoyed, making Sansa frown as she studied you, looking down at Tyrion, who sighed “she wants to fight, a Dothraki has been teaching her for months now. I think she’s scared,” he whispered the last part, making Sansa lean in as he continued “I think she’s scared of losing yet another brother, or perhaps even her mother, she thinks that somehow if she fights with her, she could prevent it” Sansa frowned even more “but the dragons are not her brothers” Tyrion shrugged “she has grown up around them for the last five years, whenever she was sad and Missandei or Daenerys wasn’t around, the dragons comforted her, I’ve heard stories of how they flew up on her balcony and came close to her, let her lay up against them and cry. When they were locked in the pyramid, she visited them every day, Rhaegal was her dragon, and now Jon Snow is riding him, she may not be a Targaryen, but she understands those dragons, almost as well as their mother, so try to tell her, once a little girl, lost and afraid of the world, protected and cared for by these dragons and their mother, that they are not her family. She already lost one brother, forgive me, Lady Stark, but I do believe you can understand how she feels” Tyrion ended, looking back at you as Missandei sat down next to you, talking with you quietly.
Sansa watched you with sympathy now, she understood what it was like to lose family, and while she couldn’t see how you saw dragons as family, she could understand the bond and the grief you must have felt when Viserion died, especially now that it was known that he had joined the Night King as an undead dragon, no longer the brother you knew.
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You stared at the piles upon piles of dead bodies, blood covering your face, your akanh in your hand, a cut on your hand and leg, still bleeding, your eyes widening as you saw a white figure in the distance leaning over someone, crying. It was nearly dawn, the Night King was dead and so was his army. Your feet took off before you even knew it, you barely felt the wound on your leg as you ran across the body littered field, you fell to your knees, you arakh long forgotten as you stared at the body in Daenerys’ arms. You breathed heavily as you just stared at his pale skin, the blood splattered across his face and armor, and the small drops of tears from your mother’s eyes. You gently shook your head as you held your breath, at any moment he would wake up, right? He would wake up, let you know that he was alright, he was okay, he was wounded but alive, right? You let out a whimper as none of that happened, he stayed still and pale, and you leaned over his breastplate, resting your head on it, not caring about the blood smearing onto your forehead. You let a sob escape your lips, only one, you told yourself, but it was followed by another, and another, and another, and before you knew it you were sobbing against the cold, hard metal covering his chest.
You looked up at Daenerys to see her crying as well, holding Joarh close and you couldn’t help but lean down and hug his stiff form, your arms around his neck as you sobbed against his throat, silently begging him to wake up, and when that didn’t work you tried verbally “wake up, please Ser Jorah, please, please wake up, please no, no, no, no! Wake up!” you hadn’t even noticed how you had begun to speak Valyrian, it was your native tongue after all, even though Jorah never understood it. You shook him as hard as you could, tears streaming down your face as you shook your head once more, you could barely breathe, Jorah had been the one to cut off your collar, he had been the one you had talked the most with, even though none of you understood each other back then. You leaned against Daenerys’ shoulder as you both cried, tears streaming down your faces as you continued to hold the old knight.
You don’t know how long you stayed like that, clinging to his corpse and Daenerys’ side as you cried over his body, praying that somehow he would wake up, somehow his eyes would open, or he would cough, say something, anything. But nothing happened, and nothing ever would, he was dead, cold and stiff, buried in metal as he laid in the cold snow, blood surrounding him, some of it his own, some of it not, that thought chilled you to the bone more than any wind ever could, he was bathed in blood, some not his own, it made you sick, and you felt the urge to throw up, leaning away quickly and throwing up over the side, making sure none of it touched Jorah or your mother. Afterwards you groaned, tears still streaming down your face as you glanced at Ser Jorah, another sob forcing it’s way through your body and out your mouth as you yet again fell to Daenerys’ side, holding Jorah. You felt Daenerys’ hand slowly place itself on your back as you sobbed, her own cries still spilling from her lips as you both just held him, not caring who watched or who was nearby.
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toxicbubblegum212 · 3 years
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Maze runner ~ The girl that broke all the rules ~ Part 1
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~ Back story ~
You got lost in the maze a long time ago. You have no idea how long it been, you estimated around a couple years. It was very hard being cut off from all the people that you loved especially Alby. He was like your big brother when you first came up in the box.
You regret that day that you aimlessly ran into the maze. You were upset cause everyone doubted you and treat you like a nuisance. But this was your opportunity to change, to improve or die trying at least.
Everyone in the Glade gave up on you a long time ago. When you ran into the maze you were only 13.
~ In the Present ~
(your currently 16)
You were running around the maze as usually, enjoying the wind brushing against your cheeks and licking at loose strands of hair. You grew to like the Maze, sure you would never get out of it but why would you need to.
You arrived at a large crack in one particular wall, it was small enough to squeeze in a human but not any where near close enough for a griever which made your home perfect.
You make your way through feeling the cold cement press against your back. Once on the other side you met the marvellous wonder you called The heart of the maze. It was stunning, there were crystals scattered all over the cave, they glowed and shone bright like the stars in the sky. You found peace and comfort in the beauty of this cave. However that doesn't mean you still don't have times when you think back all those years ago. When you could remember Newt and Alby when you arrived in the box. How kind they were to you compared to all the other boys that slowly appeared. Sometimes you look a crystals and they remind you of them.
You look through your supplies, noticing that you might need to find or make new clothes. Food was never a worry, there were many exotic fruits that grew on the vines around your area. Once sorting through all your stuff you finally decided you might as well call it a day. You made your way over to your make shift bed, curled up and went to sleep.
(a couple hours later)
"Help ME MINHO!....MINHOOO shit!!!" you heard shouting echoing through out the maze. Sit up quietly sneaking your way over to the crack popping you head out. "THUD THUD THUD!" footsteps?..no its a Griever! You quickly start trying to locate where the commotion was coming from. You peak around a corner leading into section 3, you couldn't see anything till something caught your eye. Two eyes staring back at you from under some vines in a cut out hide away.
You head quickly starts whipping around looking left, right, up and down. Before you finally made your way over "Hey come on we can't stay here forever." you yank them out and start tugging what you now knew was a boy back to your hide out. "Wait please we must find my friend!", "He ditched you i don't see why you wanna go back for him" your voice was laced with venom. The boy looked a bit upset.."Fine but don't be surprised if i leave you behind." A smile appears as you follow him further into the maze. You did not like this idea one bit, Grievers where crawling all over these parts of the maze. But Surely enough you find the boys friend a muscular asian guy, he looks very tired and weary. "Alright follow me" you wave them over, "Wait who are you?" the buff boy asked "Thats can be answered later, if you wanna survive the night i suggest you focus..." he grew silent.
You successfully reached the wall crack without bumping into anymore Grievers. "After you" you gestured towards the entrance. The two looked at each other a bit sceptical. "Fine i'll go first!" you step through as the others closely followed behind.
"WOW this place is amazing!" The buff boy stated out loud and proud, "How could i have missed such a beautiful place?" both boys look astonished at the sight before them. "Do you live here?" one of them asked. "Why of course how else would i have survived this long" you chuckled flopping down on your bed of fur skins. "My names Thomas..whats yours...um if you don't mind me asking" the boy looked down shyly. "Y/N my names Y/N". The buff one's face looked shocked"..no way! Are you THE girl from the Glade! You name's engraved on our wall!!" the boy looked very very excited ecstatic even. "Sorry how rude of me my names Minho" he smiles softly. "Its fine and yes i was from the glade...thought it was a very long time ago." Both of them smile brightly at you. "We have heard stories about you Y/N" Thomas spoke. "The Glader's say that you ran into the maze when your only just 13, they said that it was your own stupidity that was your greatest down fall. And nobody even thought about the possibility the you could be alive." Thomas now looked a bit sad speaking such harsh words.
"Well you know what Thomas...there a bunch of assholes!" you huff. Minho chuckled in amusement "You could say that again". "Come with us back to the Glade Y/N!" Thomas pleaded. "NO!" "Why not?!?" Thomas questioned. "Cause...i don't want too! If i wanted to go back there i would have done so a long time a go!" you state sternly.
"I heard about how some of the boys treated you in the glade, and im truly sorry. But things have changed and im sure everyone would be happy to see you." Minho chimed. "How did you two even get stuck in here in the first place.?" Thomas laughs at Minho's sharp glare "It's cause this Greenie wanted to go sight seeing...in the maze!" he says sarcastically and a very annoyed tone.
"Well lets discuss it over some dinner shall we" you get up walking deeper into the cave to go retrieve some vegetables, meats and fruits.
The boys eyes lingered on you, "She is so important to the people of the glade and she doesn't even realise it ." Minho states "I agree, i think she gives us a good fighting chance to get out." Thomas responds.
You came back with some bowls of nice warm stew. The three of you sat eating, laughing and just genuinely enjoyed each others company. " Oh um feel free to sleep on my bed" you spoke. "What about you?" Thomas looked concerned. "Im not sure but ill be fine" you smiled. "No please stay it makes me feel bad" Thomas pleaded once more. "Fine" you were starting to think that Thomas is annoying but he means well. Which in return made you smile.
As the finished there meals you took there bowls and asked them to get comfortable on your stash of fur rugs. When you came back of course they made room for you and it had to be in the middle. Thomas pats the spot encouraging you. You made your way over and proceeded to start curling up in furs and trying to drift off to sleep.
10 minutes pass and Minho's sleep soundly. You could now see his features. You admit Minho was decently handsome and his personality was charming. "Hey..." you heard Thomas whisper grabbing you attention. You turnover towards him "Hey whats up Thomas?" Thomas eyes looked beautiful in that moment, you could see all the pretty colours around the cave reflecting. "I am the Greenie back at the glade, i ran into the maze too and im probably gonna get into a lot of trouble....my point is you and me are one in the same." you stay silent continuing to listen. Thomas leans closer resting his forehead on yours. "Y/N i just wanna hold you...i know that might sound strange but since you dragged me out of those vines i can't help but marvel at you." you smile a big wide genuine smile. "You look pretty when you do that" Thomas commented he slowly wrapped an arm around your waist pulling you closer to him. You didn't fight it, his chest was very warm and surprisingly strong. "This is your safe place, if you ever need it feel free to come find me" Thomas said finally looking back up into your eyes. To your surprise Thomas kisses your cheek, then he slowly goes for lips and starts progressing down wards. You can feel passion and love admitting from him. He kisses you softly along your jaw line, neck and collarbone. "All i want is you Y/N...."
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7wanderingpaws · 3 years
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Simply Yours (15) final
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Pairing: Baekhyun x reader
Genre: family AU, hapkido teacher AU
Word count:  11.3K
Warnings: FLUFF
A/N:  🛑 PLEASE MAKE SURE TO READ THE ENDING NOTE!  🛑
tags:  @milky-baek @itsbaekhyunsbutt @luvhtears @shesdreaminginoverdose @cynthbee @jummyjammy @bbhmystar​ @littleflowercrown13 @sebootyforlife 
MASTERLIST
1 . 2 . 3 . 4 . 5 . 6 . 7 . 8 . 9 . 10 . 11 . 12 . 13 . 14
EDIT: There are many people who want to vote for both the prequel and sequel - BOTH will be happening at some point! But I will not be writing the stories at the same time, so please vote for the one that appeals to you most right now! :) Thank you!
FINAL
It hadn't been that long since the apartment became quiet. Quiet as in: no sounds, no movements, only the faraway buzz of a busy street behind the closed windows. The kind of quietness in which the loudest sound was breathing. To be frank, you already forgot how silence sounded like, how it made you feel.
It’s been exactly 30 minutes since the triplets started to cry. Over time, their wails grew desperate and throaty. They were most probably hurting their throats but you really couldn’t care at that moment. As much as you loved them and cared for them, you tended to them just over forty minutes ago which meant you only got ten minutes of pure silence and peace overall. This kind of wailing? There was no help and you knew it. You could rock them in your arms, talk to them, play with them, give them toys - they would wail even more.
You laid on your other side, your back now facing them as you closed your eyes, letting the tears escape. You were tired. So, so tired. You couldn’t even roll over and tend to them, already running low on energy and mental drainage.
It had been a few days since you completely lost appetite, your stomach hurting almost non-stop. Despite taking pain killers, it would hardly go away. But you decided that this shouldn’t  and wouldn’t become a big deal. It couldn’t. There had been so much happening in your life - like for instance, you knew you had to make up for Baekhyun’s birthday that you completely missed out on because you were in the hospital. Another important fact you absolutely had to make sure was smooth, was making his life a little easier since his final thesis defense for PhD title was basically happening in a few weeks. There was so much stuff happening for him, and yet you were the one overwhelmed. It was easy to say that the pressure was on.
The change of the light in the bedroom was the only indicator of how much time had passed since the ruckus had started. The cries didn’t stop and it only intensified your own cries.
Just how long until things would get better? And what exactly was the definition of better for you? The kids ceasing to cry and demand you? Things sorting out by themselves? You changing overnight and getting out of your small depression? Making Baekhyun happy?
You cried even more when you thought about him. Your fiancée. Who worked so hard for you, understood you and helped you. And what were you doing in return? You couldn’t even get out of bed to tend to your children.
Suddenly, through the cries, there was a voice calling out your name, followed by a frantic: “What is happening here?” You frowned, quickly tapping on your wet cheeks to hide the stains meanwhile also on alert, given the voice was in panic.
Baekhyun appeared in the doorway of the bedroom and it seemed like he rushed, his hair disheveled, his breathing frantic and loud. His phone was next to his ear but when he spotted you and then the babies, his hand fell next to his side.
“Baek-“
“What the hell? I’ve been calling you thousands of times! The neighbors called me because the babies have been crying since lunchtime and were worried something happened because you wouldn’t answer the door!” He made three steps towards your children and kneeled down, shushing them quickly while he kept running his eyes over you, making sure you were alright.
You sat up, the headache from crying growing into a dull ache. “I was just too tired, Baekhyun, there is nothing happening. Everything’s alright,” you said in a hoarse, low tone.
He frowned worriedly and looked at the babies that wouldn’t stop crying. “Ahh, shh, it’s okay, daddy’s here. I’ll take care of you.” He picked up Juna and placed her in his lap while Junhee and Jun were in his arms, their cries gradually ceasing until they became just whimpers.  “It’s okay, daddy’s here, hm? No need to cry, little ones.”
You were lying on your back now, also listening in on Baekhyun’s cooing and shushed voice while you were fighting hard to suppress the tears. His voice was now the biggest consolation you could ever ask for, but deep inside you knew you screwed up big time for letting the babies cry for so long and therefore alarming not only your neighbors but your fiancée too. For now though, you only wanted to rest. Just for a moment. Just a little bit.
Baekhyun, although being preoccupied with triplets, noticed your face right away. You being tired and worn-out was nothing new to him but seeing your face being red and swollen from crying was a first in a while. Of course he knew it wasn’t easy for you. If anything, you had it the hardest out of the two of you. He was lucky that the babies stopped crying now but many times they would stop crying only after being with you and receiving food from you. As much as he had the role of a father, he couldn’t cover all the requirements that you had to tend to without questions or complaints. You, as a mother, had no choice.
“Now that you’re all quiet, let’s leave mummy to rest, hm?” he whispered lovingly, placing them all on the bed and wanting to prepare their little blankets outside where he would take them, but your quiet voice stopped him.
“Don’t leave.”
Baekhyun cleaned the babies’ faces with a tissue, gently running it over their soft skin until he was sure nothing could irritate them. After that he stood up and walked over to your lying figure before kneeling down and having a good look at you. “Are you hurting?” he asked quietly, running his hand over your middle that was hidden under the blanket.
“No,” you whispered, feeling your throat closing off.
Your fiancée was quiet for a moment before sighing and lying down next to you. “Then what’s wrong? You really scared me,” he added, wanting you to understand that he wasn’t necessarily mad but rather worried and anxious about your well-being. The idea of something happening to you while he wasn't there scared him.
You had yet to meet his eyes. You were looking at his sports shirt, him most probably not changing from his work-out uniform and just straight up rushing home. “I didn’t mean to scare you. I was just tired and I fed them already but they wouldn’t stop crying.”
“Babe,” he sighed again, though there was an affectionate gaze in his eyes. He reached his hand out, brushing the sticking hair aside. “I can tell something is off. You need to talk to me.”
“It’s fine, really.”
Carefree baby gurgles were coming from behind your back now, a rather overwhelming change compared to the wailing happening minutes ago, at which Baekhyun’s lips stretched into a small, soft smile. He didn't know that these kinds of sounds, his babies' carefree, exploratory sounds, were something that he was missing in his life until that moment. “I know it’s hard. But now I am here. It’s okay. We are in this together, remember?”
His hand wandered from your hairline down to your cheek where he caressed you with the back of his fingers and let them slide down your neck and shoulder where he started drawing small but very much comforting circles. “C'mon, come a bit closer,” he ushered you in a hushed voice and you automatically moved, scurrying until your face could get lost in his chest and his arms would take you in. This way he could watch out for the triplets and for you too at the same time. 
He would protect you.
Unfortunately, there was one thing Baekhyun couldn’t protect you from for sure. And that was yourself.
...
Before letting yourself fall asleep, you fed each of your little ones, and with Baekhyun’s help, you changed their nappies and clothes for them to be fresh and clean. While you stood up to take a hot shower right away, Baekhyun stayed to give Juna, Junhee and Jun as much love as he could provide. Their huge, curious eyes would look at their father before gently stretching to small half-moons, and giggling when Baekhyun tickled their bellies or blew raspberries. As much as he couldn’t wait to play with them in his arms, they were still just a couple of weeks old and couldn’t do anything around them.
He made sure to always double-check Jun, the most fragile one out of them. Even though he was a giggly baby, he tended to sleep the most and become the weakest the fastest. “I won’t let anything happen to you, ever,” he murmured while rocking Jun in his arms and awaiting your arrival from the shower.
You, on the other hand, made sure to cry out all of your self-doubts, worries, anxiety and depressing thoughts while under the running water. The post-partum depression wasn’t anything new to you; you were well aware this would happen. But you didn’t think it would last this long and that it would be this hard. Surely, having one child was taxing for a mother but you genuinely felt lost with triplets. It was a vicious, unstoppable circle and if you wouldn’t find a solution on how to tend to them effectively without ruining yourself, you could end up in a very bad place.
So you wrapped yourself up in a towel and left the bathroom with a weak, but nonetheless present determination. You wouldn’t let your family down; because that was what you were now as you quietly watched Baekhyun playing with your newborns. You were all a family. Your marital status said nothing about you and Baekhyun because you were already connected on a much deeper, unbreakable level.
Baekhyun looked up just in time to catch a gentle smile on your lips and he felt an instant relief. Giving one last caress to Juna, he stood up and walked over to you, his hand sliding over your waist to bring you closer to his body. “Feeling better?” he asked quietly, gazing into your eyes with affection.
You nodded. “Much better. Everything is better when you’re there,” you mumbled, looking down on his chest.
“Sweetheart,” he sighed and with his other hand tilted your chin so you would look at him. “You’re doing amazing. Don’t ever doubt yourself. It’s damn hard. But you keep surprising me and leaving me astonished every single time. I already told you - you’re my hero. A wonder woman.”
You let out a small, doubtful laugh. “What are you saying...”
“It’s true,” he insisted passionately and that only made you giggle more. “And I love you.”
Your laugh stopped and your smile slowly disappeared while looking into his now serious orbs. Finally, your hand touched his cheek and he leaned into it. “I love you, too, honey. I’m sorry for making you worried.”
He shook his head gently and pressed his lips to yours in an innocent kiss. “It’s alright. I know it won’t happen next time, right?” He gave you a pointed look. “Mummy won’t make daddy worry like that, am I correct?”
You nodded. “Correct.”
“Then it’s fine,” he smiled and gave your backside a gentle tap. “Now change up. I don’t want my fiancée to catch a cold.” He stepped away from you and was about to go take a shower when he added: “And you’re distracting in that towel.”
...
The next morning you were both enjoying the unusual quietness, sleeping in and snuggling into each other more. No longer having the pregnancy fever that would make you leave Baekhyun’s embrace in the night, you buried your nose deeper into the crook between his neck and shoulder and you felt his lips puckering against your forehead in a lazy morning kiss as a way to greet you. You hummed, breathing a reciprocating kiss on his neck which made him chuckle in his deep, morning voice that always made your heart skip a beat. His hands were connected on your lower back while you were resting your knee on his thigh, trying to eliminate as much space as possible. 
The warmth you were sharing under the blanket was so cozy it was bringing you into a state of peacefulness you haven't experienced in a while. Baekhyun was the same and it only proved when he let his hands rest under your shirt, his fingers drawing comforting, though ticklish circles in the dimples on your lower back. You let out a breathy laugh and he followed, quiet not to disturb the peace. Pressing another kiss to your temple, he sighed in content, his eyes still closed.
After half an hour and the first baby up, you were sitting by the small dining table, feeding Jun while Baekhyun was preparing some breakfast and morning tea. Since you didn’t want to drink coffee, worried the caffeine would affect your breastfeeding, he decided to join you and consume the same drinks and food as you. You were, indeed, together in this.
“What are we going to do with that envelope, honey?” you asked, checking your fiancée’s broad back as he was putting some seaweed on the top of the porridge.
“Accept it,” was his reply as he grabbed both bowls and walked over to the table, putting one in front of you and one in front of him, joining you as he sat down on the floor. “After all the inconveniences you think there is still space to refuse?”
You thought over his words. “It’s a lot of money.”
“And you aren’t getting a job any time soon. Plus, he kicked you out while you could easily still work for him,” he reasoned while mixing his porridge. “Accept it.”
How easy, you thought, accept the money and enjoy it. But the amount was big and it was scary for you.
“Oh, this reminds me!” Baekhyun quickly stood up and rushed over to his sports bag, searching for something inside. He trudged back with an open envelope in his hand. He took out the paper for you and handed it to you before sitting down and resuming his mixing. “From the government.”
You fumbled with the paper and quickly ran over the lengthy letter. Rocking Jun gently in your arms, it was like a second nature by now even while reading shocking news like the one you just found out.
“Baek- is this for real?” you gasped and looked at him, his cheeks full of porridge as he smiled and nodded.
“Absolutely.”
As a thank you for bringing three kids to the society, the government was giving you a family apartment.
“We are to see the house tomorrow,” smiled Baekhyun once he swallowed and gave you a loving look when Jun finished feeding and you adjusted your shirt. “So I’d say, it’s a very good start.”
Still in shock, you brought Jun’s head to your shoulder and patted his back gently, waiting for the burp he needed. “I can’t believe it. It’s too good to be true.”
“I told you the government has some rewards, sweetheart. No need to worry. It seems like we will be moving soon.”
You stared at him, a small smile stretching into a full-blown one, and Baekhyun felt himself being over the moon.
...
The next day you found yourself in front of a sturdy, good-quality entrance door. You had Jun in the baby carrier on your chest, while Baekhyun had Juna and Junhee with him, one in front and the latter on his back. He looked so adorable yet incredibly attractive with his daughters, gently rocking them to keep them entertained although he couldn’t see Junhee in the back. A young father, who was too immersed in the situation to even notice how you were throwing him subtle, but appreciative glances. Who would have thought Baekhyun looked enticing with babies? Blushing, you gently shook your head, ridding yourself of intrusive thoughts.
Instead, over the past couple of days, you were thinking hard whether to bring the triplets along since it wasn’t easy to move in the busy city with newborns but you decided to use the taxi; plus the government workers who seemed present could witness with their own eyes that you really had the kids; that it was not a joke.
There were two ladies present: one from the city hall and the other one was from real estates. Both of them gave you a look of respect before actually looking at the babies who were thankfully in a good mood today.
“So this would be the apartment,” announced the real estate lady as she let all of you in, giving you space to take off your shoes before entering the wide space. There was a dark corridor that led to a joint space of kitchen and living room, the two combined were as big as your current home. So spacious.
You couldn’t hold in a silent gasp as you looked around. The kitchen’s counter was made of marble and was combined with dark wood. There was so much space for cooking and storage and still plenty of space for having kids running around freely.
Checking the living room, you found yourself facing a wide window that stretched from floor to ceiling, offering a look of the quiet neighborhood, and in the background the tall buildings of Seoul. It was an apartment you wouldn't even dare to dream about.
“Wow,” muttered Baekhyun as he stood next to you, still rocking the babies up and down. He was cradling Juna’s head gently as she was about to fall asleep. “This is amazing.”
“Too amazing,” you added.
“As you could see downstairs, the building offers a 24/7 security guard, an underground parking lot and advanced security system. This is a family neighborhood, so the outside park is also guarded by CCTV and there are plenty of playgrounds!” informed the real estate agent kindly, giving a gentle smile when she saw Baekhyun checking Juna in his arms. “The building’s construction was finished early this year, so this apartment is brand new. Of course, the little community here is already growing so I have no doubts once the kiddie winkles grow up they will have plenty of friends to find and play with.”
“This is the highest standard apartment we offer to families with multiplets,” added the government worker more strictly. She seemed the reserved one, for obvious reasons, but it seemed that the look of your fiancée with his baby girls could melt even her reluctant heart as her eyes softened at the sight of him. “You should check the rest of the rooms - there is one master bedroom with its private bathroom and there is another smaller one at the entrance we just passed. There are two more empty rooms,” she said and gave you a small smile. “So, of course, not each of your little ones can have a room by themselves-“
“There is no need for that,” you chimed in politely, earning yourself everyone’s attention and you tried not to become embarrassed. Baekhyun stood closer to you and with his free hand caressed your back. “I mean, this is already a huge help to us. I think we would like our kids to share the space so they can learn how to live with each other and become close. Sharing is important, especially where we come from, so it would be a good way to teach them that,” you hesitated before you looked up to Baekhyun’s kind eyes for confirmation. “Right?”
He nodded and looked at the two ladies. “That’s absolutely right. This is already more than we could ever ask for.”
After quickly checking the rest of the apartment, you realized the lightness of your steps, the apartment being too good to be true. As much as you tried not to do it, you found yourself imagining the life you would start here with Baekhyun and the triplets. You’d have everything you need. You could even have people over because there was enough space for that!
“So, I take it you like the apartment?” asked the real estate agent once you all grouped in the kitchen.
“We love it,” you exclaimed with excitement.
The government worker placed some documents and a pen on the marble counter. “In our system, there was no data about your marriage,” she said in her official tone that made you instantly feel uneasy. “If you could provide us with your marriage certificate, we could make the necessary transactions and you could move in basically right away.”
Silence fell over the place, only the small baby gurgles coming from Junhee, the only one awake now interrupting the otherwise tense moment. You looked at Baekhyun who was quick to reply: “You know, the deal is we aren’t married yet. We are engaged. You know, with the pregnancy and the expenses going for the baby care...” he trailed off, giving a small smile.
Feeling your throat going dry, you quickly looked down at your baby boy, the look of him more calming than the situation you found yourself in. It wasn’t hard for you to put two and two together. They wouldn’t give you the apartment unless you were married. And with that you felt all the elevated feelings dissipate.
“I understand,” was the government worker’s reply. “So you aren’t married. But, Mr Byun, you are the father of the kids, correct?”
“Yes, I am.”
“Any proof of your engagement?” she asked, looking at you now.
Quickly, you raised your left hand, showing the only jewelry you wore even though you shouldn’t while with the babies. Even though not a solid, official proof, it would have to do for now. “This is the engagement ring from my fiancée,” you said and kept checking the lady’s facial expressions.
“I proposed after we came back from the hospital. As you know, we don’t have many resources to make our wedding possible, but we will register the marriage as soon as possible,” explained Baekhyun who was now holding your hand, stroking your knuckles gently with his thumb in order to calm you down. He could pick up the small panic and worry in your eyes but he would not let this opportunity slip away from you. Being honest with the government worker was what he decided to do. He would have to trust she would be kind enough to understand your situation.
The lady gave a curt nod, thinking over what Baekhyun said. You saw her watching your hands connected and then the peaceful babies. She saw you and your tired face and simple clothes. Nothing extraordinary, nothing that would shine and grab her attention. 
In a way, you were thankful she wasn’t showing her judgments with you having kids without marriage. It was tough to break through in the society you lived in; people didn’t like things that were against the rules. They saw you as two young people that had way too much fun in the bedroom which resulted in an obvious mistake in form of three human beings. That wasn’t the case though. Triplets and being with Baekhyun was anything but a mistake.
“Okay, this is what we are going to do,” she proposed after a while of silence. “Since I am the one handling your papers, I will trust you that you will register your marriage as soon as possible. Meanwhile, I will ask for birth certificates that prove Mr Byun is the father of the triplets. That way I can hand you the apartment without delaying you and you can move in quickly to start a more comfortable life,” she gave you a smile and you let out a small gasp.
“You would do that?” you asked and felt your own lips stretch. “Thank you very much!”
Baekhyun’s grin was wide and he brought the hand that was holding yours up to his lips, kissing you there. “Thank you. In fact, I had a hunch this would occur so I prepared the necessary copies already. I can hand them to you right now.”
You were surprised at his words. Baekhyun knew the apartment could be taken away from you? How was he always so well prepared?
“Great,” replied the lady and pointed at the documents that you now had a good look at. Contracts for the apartment. “Then we can proceed with signing the necessary papers and you can move in!”
...
It felt almost unreal; the promise of a new, very comfortable home. 
Hands tangling in the air, you kept a strong hold of your fiancée’s hand as you walked towards your current home. With all three kids now sleeping in the carriers, you were looking forward to having a little time to yourselves.
“Let’s sit on the bench for a little bit, hmm?” you suggested as you walked by the closest park. “It’s so nice outside and I want to enjoy some air.”
Baekhyun was fast to agree, happy to hear you in a cheerful voice.
Once sitting down, you sat as close to him as possible, resting your head on his shoulder although he didn't lean back to rest, since Junhee was sleeping there. 
“Are you satisfied?” asked Baekhyun quietly, breaking the comfortable silence. Despite the newborns not being crybabies unlike the both of you were so worried about, it was still a blessing to catch a breath when they were peacefully asleep.
You turned your head gently and pressed a kiss to his clothed shoulder which made him smile. “Yes, very much. Thank you for taking care of everything. Thank you for thinking two steps ahead and going prepared.”
He let out a gentle laugh and you felt his arm drape over your lower back, gently bringing you closer while he gazed at his son on your chest. “That is only natural, baby.”
The endearment made you smile and you lifted your head. He blinked a few times at you in an attempt to make you giggle but he was surprised when you pressed your lips to his. Closing his eyes, he returned the kiss, making sure neither of you would go overboard and be loud.
“Love you,” you whispered, barely an inch from his lips before claiming them again. His hum of satisfaction made you feel proud, accomplished and the squeeze on your hip made you sigh in content.
“Love you, too, princess.” A breathy whisper. “Can we take this home,” muttered Baekhyun suggestively, charmed by you, when the both of you broke apart, and he kissed your cheek lovingly, eventually pressing his cheek to yours, closing his eyes. “While we have privacy for each other.”
His words made your heart skip an excited beat. Surely, you two didn't and definitely wouldn't have any private, intimate time in near future like you used to have before. But for some reason, the idea of becoming intimate with him again after pregnancy gave you a slight anxiety. You had flashbacks of how ugly and scarred you must have looked down there after the stitches. And just the idea of sleeping with him was scaring you in that moment.
He pulled away when he didn't hear an answer from you, and he took notice of the slight blush and conflicted gaze. He brought his hand to your face and caressed your cheek before pressing his lips to your forehead. “Never mind that. I wasn't thinking straight,” he whispered reassuringly, “I can rarely think straight when I'm with you. I know you still need to heal a lot, love.”
His words made you smile and you couldn't have been more thankful for his thoughtfulness than in that moment. Both of you enjoyed intimate times a lot, especially during pregnancy, but now the tables have turned. Even though it had been more than two weeks since you came home from the hospital, it still hurt in the tiniest way to walk around, go to the toilet or to squat. There was no way you could do anything more than that just yet.
“Just so you know,” he continued, smiling at you gently as his eyes flickered over your facial features, “I will wait for you. So don't you dare stress yourself, missy. I know you too well.”
You let out a breathy laugh when you felt Jun stirring, his eyes still tightly closed. He hummed, as if hearing Baekhyun's voice was soothing. “You're the best.”
“Only the best for mummy,” he whispered as he pecked you one last time, his hand now on the back of Jun's head, cradling it gently.
Checking Junhee behind Baekhyun, you saw she was still sound asleep, including Juna in the front.
“So we will register our marriage,” you mumbled gently, not to disturb the babies. Honestly, the whole situation happening at the new apartment made you wonder why you never actually made some moves to marry when you didn't need a wedding. Now that you thought of it, you wouldn't be able to make one even if you wanted to; three babies were too much to look out for while also trying to organize a bigger event. But still, the idea of actually becoming Baekhyun's wife and it officially being written on the paper left you excited and a little dizzy, because you really would become a family. You two would be official and you would have a proof that you belonged to him, and he belonged to you.
“Yes, we will register our marriage.” You thought you heard a smirk in his voice and when you checked, it was right there, plastered on his face while his cheeks puffed up. “We should make arrangements with Chanyeol... Or maybe Sukyeong and Chen would want to watch over them for a little while, until we are done at the City Hall?” suggested Baekhyun, now taking your hand in his, raising it up to his mouth to press butterfly kisses on your knuckles.
“Alright, that's a good idea,” you nodded, enjoying the feeling of his lips on your skin and his warm breath.
“Maybe we could go on a small date afterwards?” he suggested again, his voice soft yet so throaty at the mention of a date. “It's been a damn while since we actually made an effort to go out and just enjoy our time.”
Once again, his words made you smile, bewitched by his sultry tone while his eyes observed you droopily. He was awakening the butterflies in your tummy. “Alright,” you said again, “let's do that. Let's enjoy ourselves.”
“As newly married,” he added with a little laugh.
Leaning in, you sealed his words with a slow kiss. “As newly married.”
...
You were breastfeeding while you listened to Baekhyun's phone call with Chen. Both of you decided it would be more fun for the couple to come and watch out for the little ones. You promised them you wouldn't be taking long, since you were still breastfeeding.
Once Baekhyun was off the phone, he looked at you affectionately while you fed Junhee. He was about to say something when Juna, laying on the blanket, started to cry. 
Baekhyun and you exchanged looks and he was fast to tend to her before she would trigger Jun who was curiously looking at the toys hanging above his head. You received those gifts from your friends and you couldn't have been more thankful.
Baekhyun was walking in front of you, rocking Juna gently to ease up her discomfort. Just then you gasped sharply when you felt a familiar pull in your lower abdomen and Junhee's bite at the same time.
Baekhyun stopped abruptly to check on you, his eyes alarmed. “What's wrong?”
You shook your head, trying to pull Junhee away from your nipple, but it was still hurting. “She bit me and I'm cramping.”
Cramping wasn't news to you since you were informed about it before. It was just a natural reaction of your uterus shrinking to its original size and breastfeeding, apparently, created enough hormones to do it. It sucked that it was accompanied by pains.
He walked over, kneeling in front of you while Juna's crying was slowly easing up. “Do you want me to take her?”
“No, it's fine,” you mumbled, scrunching your face up in slight discomfort. “I guess we both still need to figure out how to breastfeed, right, Junhee?” you asked in a soft tone, looking at your daughter with utmost love. “Let's try the other boob, hm?”
Baekhyun chuckled and while you changed Junhee's position, he grabbed a pillow and motioned for you to lift Junhee up a bit. “Your back pain will get worse,” he reminded, and you felt an immediate ease when you lowered Junhee on the pillow; her not being so low was a big plus.
Catching Baekhyun's loving gaze, you smiled tiredly. “Thank you, honey.”
“Of course, sweetheart,” he mumbled and looked down at sucking Junhee. “Don't you hurt your mummy, alright, little one? She is giving you food, so be thankful.”
You giggled and he smiled at the sound of it while still cradling Juna to his shoulder. “What is daddy saying...”
“Well, we have to raise them properly. We should start early. Besides! Only I have the right to bite,” he winked cheekily and you gasped quietly, pushing his chest playfully with your free hand. “What, it's true.” Another wink. “And you really should start thinking about pumping, sweetheart. I understand the benefits of being close to them, but you should think of yourself too. It isn't easy - just imagine how it would ease you up, hm?” he asked and rocked Juna a little longer before moving to put her down next to Jun on the little blanket. 
Baekhyun was completely right and this time it was your turn to feel awe at just how much he understood without you having to voice your thoughts. Even though you had yet to tell him about the silly stomachache and a depression that was growing on you every time you were left alone with the triplets, he seemed to already know.
Gently smiling, you nodded when you noticed he lied down on his side next to the blanket with Jun and Juna, his study book open right next to Jun. He supported his head with his hand and this way he had a great view of his family. “You study, sir. Someone has to snatch that PhD title.”
He giggled, puckering his lips as he sent you a kiss. Making sure you received it, he sighed and double-checked the babies before focusing on the text.
...
The next day Baekhyun was out for school. The night was spent up, babying the triplets who seemed to become dissatisfied as soon as you put them back down to rest. So Baekhyun decided, at 3am, to just lie next to them - him on their right side so he was closer to the door when he had to leave in the morning, and you were on the opposite side. It was strange to sleep separated; usually Baekhyun’s warmth and just the idea of his presence right next to you was a given. But both of you were way too tired to give one another a longing look and you needed Baekhyun to rest. His defense was coming up in a couple of weeks and despite not showing it, he was stressed.
For today, you ordered Sukyeong to come to your place right after finishing at work, your desperate call scaring her for a moment before calming her down.
“But prepare,” you warned, “we are going out.”
And so you had Juna and Junhee strapped on your chest and back while you sheepishly asked Sukyeong to take Jun, but she was more than happy to do so which made you inwardly sigh in relief.
The closest shopping center was not that far, you could easily afford to walk, hoping the babies would be behaving for a little while while enjoying the fresh air.
“So you know how you and Chen agreed to babysit next week?” you started as you walked on the busy street. Always on alert, you kept checking anyone who passed too close to you, not wanting them to brush up against your babies or hurting them in any way.
Sukyeong hummed excitedly, almost skipping before she realized she had a little human in her arms.
“Anyway- it was Baekhyun’s birthday while we were still in the hospital. I want to surprise him,” you mentioned somewhat shy. “Do you think you could help me choose a pretty dress? I want to at least look half decent when we sign our marriage papers.”
You stopped at the red light directly opposite Lotte Mall. Crowds of students and young people were a little overwhelming but nothing you weren’t used to. You could only hope it wasn’t triggering for the triplets.
“Of course!” gushed Sukyeong, waving her hand around while the other one was holding Jun’s head carefully, the baby looking up at her with curious eyes. “Do not worry, my dear mama friend. I’ll make you look like the princess he knows you as!”
You giggled and crossed the street, finally entering the building. There were so many options you could surprise your fiancée with, the first idea was buying a pretty underwear that you rarely wore because you barely had two pairs and they were uncomfortable for you. But knowing you weren’t ready for him to take it off of you and indulge in each other just yet, you decided to go for a really nice dress.
“Is it funny that I know exactly what Baek likes?” mused Sukyeong as she was already fishing for the right dress. Shrugging, you shook your head. After all, the ring you were wearing was because she knew yours and Baek’s taste. “So! We will go for something you wouldn’t usually go for,” she decided as she picked up a tight black dress.
Your eyes widened at the selection and you felt embarrassed and almost on the verge of tears when you said: “Nothing tight, Sukyeonga. I still have the baby bump and you know, I’m breastfeeding. It should be loose. And bigger in size,” you added, scrunching your nose at the look of the dress. “I need to lose weight.”
Sukyeong, to your surprise, tsked and shook her head gently, already having two dresses on her arm. “Don’t you worry, I’ve got you allll covered.”
You shook your head in amusement as you cooed at Junhee in front of you, gently rocking your body as you also kept walking around, looking for any style or colour that would catch your attention.
“Which one do you girls like?” you asked in a gentle voice, talking to your daughters. You didn’t like that you couldn’t see Juna behind you but silence was a good sign, so you tried not to dwell too much on it. “Which one would daddy like the most?” Taking out one creamy, flowy dress you debated for a little bit, assessing the style and cut to make sure it wouldn't be something that would make you uncomfortable. The last thing you wanted was a mental breakdown on an important day like that. 
Roaming around a little bit and grabbing a couple of more dresses, you slowly walked over to the entrance to the fitting rooms, looking around to see if you could spot your friend. She seemed to be on fire when you also gave her the green to pick a dress of any price which she never heard you utter before.
After long thinking, you decided to accept the lotto money you got. Of course, you called your boss and thanked him - despite his denying, he said it was his and other CEOs' ideas in the company who decided to do it. You weren't sure how the hell they got lucky like that, but you were on the received end of it so you decided to drop it and accept it just like Baekhyun advised. You needed the money more than ever with the three kiddie winkles now present in your life.
“Coming, coming!” shouted Sukyeong as she was nearing you with fast steps. Her arms were full of dresses and you slightly winced when she reached you, Jun still somehow alive. “He is fine, don't worry,” she giggled breathlessly.
You nodded, still checking Jun who was peacefully looking around, completely unaware of the mess Sukyong became. “Let's head inside?”
Your friend was fast to nod and when you turned, you greeted the lady who was organizing the stacks of clothes before she turned to you with a fake smile. “Hello! How many-”
“It's all of this and-” you turned around, pointing at Sukyeong's arm, “all of that.”
She nodded and pointed towards the cabin. You moved to go when she stopped Sukyeong who followed you cheerfully. “Oh, miss, I'm afraid you can't go in if you won't be trying clothes.”
“But she is helping me with my kids, you see,” you started politely though a little taken aback at the lady's attitude. The fitting rooms weren't crowded either. “Someone needs to help me with them-”
“I'm sure she can do that outside of the fitting rooms,” the worker pressed a smile.
“Excuse me?” snapped Sukyeong, the more outspoken one. “She has three babies if you can't see.”
The worker showed zero sympathy as she squeezed her lips together until they disappeared, and shook her head in disapproval. “Rules are rules.”
You frowned, already feeling the boiling anger at the way she was being unfair. If that wasn't enough, you felt Juna behind you squirm, leaving whimpers you were very well familiar with.
You sighed exasperatedly and turned to Sukyong. “Leave it. I'll give you the girls if that's fine? I'll be super fast, promise,” you started, already reaching for Junhee in front of you when you heard a male's voice.
“I couldn't not hear this exchange and I want to ask you - aren't you ashamed of yourself?” A young, rather tall, well-built man appeared, scowling at the worker. “The ladies just told you their situation and you still refuse to make it easier for them?”
You shot Sukyeong a shocked look who did the same before she brought her stunned gaze back to the handsome male.
The worker looked embarrassed to the point where several people shot her a disapproving look when they gave you and Sukyeong a look over with the three babies out of which one was starting to squirm too much. She smiled quickly and gave you the green light to go in. You didn't bother thanking her, instead bowing gratefully to the tall man who smiled at you so handsomely it would make you stutter if you were to speak.
Sukyeong grabbed your arm and dragged you in, practically throwing you into a stall. “C'mon, we don't have much time,” she said, shooting death glares to who was most probably the worker.
She was right and so you quickly removed the straps, first securing Junhee, who was still peaceful, to Sukyeong's back and Juna in her arms so she could try to calm her down.
While you were trying outfits, you had your own little breakdown when the dresses didn't look quite as you wished they would on your figure.
Sukyeong was giving you her honest opinions and even though she saw your irritated expression, she kept telling you how pretty you looked. But you knew your body before and now, and it was anything but pretty. Baekhyun also knew your body before and now. The way your backside was sticking out with your baby bump still very present while your breasts were so huge the textiles of the dresses were impossible to push over them brought you to tears.
That was until you reached the creamy dress you picked up first. Wiping one tear, you felt your heart starting to race when you heard the whimpers of three babies and Sukyeong's quick shushing.
“I'm on the last one and then we are out of here!” you informed a bit louder so she could hear you while you smoothly slipped in the dress, the colour complimenting you. The skirt was the perfect combination of flowy, the hem stopping above your knees, and it was tight in just the right way. The dress itself had to be worn like a gown, a simple bow tied on the side of your waist to keep it together. Knotting a pretty bow, you twirled once around feeling the confidence and satisfaction you were desperately waiting for.
Snapping back to reality, you quickly showed yourself to Sukyeong who had now two out of three babies very close to making a huge ruckus, but she was excited about the dress nonetheless. You clapped happily when she approved and then you were changing.
You just managed to pull on your leggins when you heard the same worker speaking up again. “Excuse me, miss, but can you take this somewhere else? I am afraid you are disturbing our customers.”
And just like that your mood was successfully ruined. Hastily gathering your belongings, you were fast to be out, already reaching for Juna who wasn't strapped to Sukyeong. You noticed Jun being the second unsatisfied baby and you tried to suppress your tears.
“I'll pay and then let's go to the toilet, I'll feed them quickly there,” you said out loud to Sukyeong so she could hear you over the wailings. People were staring at you by now, and you were in an emotional disarray because of the stressful situation, but you didnt let their stares render you motionless. You had to be fast.
Once you paid for the pretty dress, you found yourself sitting on a toilet lid, Jun and Juna attached to your breasts while Junhee, still held by Sukyeong, was starting her crying spree.
“It's okay little Junhee, don't cry,” shushed Sukyeong, quickly rocking the baby which made the situation just worse.
“Don't bother, Sukyeonga,” you said, drained of all energy as you tried to find a comfortable position but of course it was impossible on a toilet lid. Your back and arms were about to fall off but you determined yourself to pull through this so you could walk home in peace.
“How can you manage this, I honestly don't know,” gushed Sukyeong, giving a kind smile to Junhee while her words were full of disbelief.
You sighed. “I never said I'm managing it. I'm actually a terrible mother.” Your voice wavered. “You see the mess, don't you,” you replied just when your phone started to ring.
Sukyeonga was disagreeing with you but then she fished out the phone from your bag. “It's Baekhyun.”
“Don't pick up, I can't really talk right now-” before you knew it she accepted the call and pressed the phone to your ear, your fiancée most probably welcomed with a crying baby in the background. “Honey.”
“Hey, sweetheart, where are you?” he asked and you could hear uncertainty in his voice.
You sighed again. “I went shopping with Sukyeong, no need to worry. We will be home soon.”
“Are you okay? Which one is crying so much?” Baekhyun was worried and you could hear a frown in his voice. You only dropped him a message that you were taking the kids out and didn’t really talk later, him being busy with his class but seeing how much time must have passed with you trying on countless dresses, he was probably at home by now.
“It’s Junhee but I’ll feed her soon when it's her turn-“
“You’re feeding now?” he repeated, shocked. “Where are you? Is there a nursing room where you can do it safely? Don’t tell me you’re feeding out in public.”
Sukyeong was chewing on her lip when you shot her a look. Just then you hissed; Juna bit you. “Shit-“ you scrunched up your face in pain. “Honey, I can’t right now-“
“I’ll come there, tell me where you’re at.”
“Don’t worry please-“ you repeated but he wasn’t having it.
“Where did you go for shopping? You’re in the nursery room right? Is there-“
Shaking your head you leaned away from the phone, tired from listening to his nagging and to the baby’s crying. “I can’t do this right now!” you raised your voice, exasperated, and Sukyeong was fast to take the phone away and fake a smile as she took the call.
“Oh, Baekhyun, all is well; she is with me. Don’t worry we are in a good spot, she isn’t feeding in public. We will be home soon.” She paused a bit and tried to shush crying Junhee but to no avail. “Yeah, I promise, I promise, but we gotta go now- yes she is absolutely fine, no need to worry!” she repeated while looking at you. She took a note of how tired and drained you were, both babies sucking at your breasts when there was still one mouth left to feed. Baekhyun’s worried voice wasn’t helping her calm down so she did the only thing she could think of in the loudness of the bathroom - without saying anything, she ended the call and put your phone down next to the sink, quickly holding Junhee with both hands and rocking her while distracting her with some baby talk.
Sukyeong wasn’t sure what she was expecting of you to be like with three babies. It was happy news and you and Baekhyun were both loving people who she always believed would become great parents. But this was anything but easy on the both of you.
Looking at you now, she could only have respect.
...
You were completely drained when Sukyeong left your place later that evening. Babies were sleeping deeply but Baekhyun seemed like a tiger in its cage. Restless. Ready to bite.
“Sweetheart, next time tell me where you go,” he said in a hushed tone when you closed the door to your bedroom where you put the babies to rest. He was leaning against the kitchen counter, his arms crossed on his chest.
“Okay,” you muttered and wanted to head for the bathroom but he quickly caught your hand, gently intertwining your fingers to bring you close to him. He noticed the stains on your t-shirt, the milk leaking.
“I was just worried, sorry,” he breathed and brought his free hand to your neck, his thumb caressing your jaw. “I freaked out.”
You nodded. “I understand. I need to shower, I’m disgusting right now,” you muttered, brushing his apology aside and not meeting his earnest eyes. Just a little while ago you spent more than an hour on a toilet lid feeding. Your muscles were aching and you were mentally drained.
“Why did you go shopping suddenly?” he asked, ignoring your statement. “We do those things together.”
“Not important. Just wanted to spend some time with Sukyeong.”
“Hey, look at me,” he demanded in a quiet, but gentle voice. When you didn’t comply, he spotted tears brimming your eyes and he was fast to tilt your head with his fingers. “What’s the matter,” he breathed and brought you closer.
Closing your eyes, you felt the tears escaping and rolling down your cheeks but Baekhyun let go of your hand and brought it up to your face. “Just tired.”
He observed you a little longer before bringing you to his chest, letting you hug him and hide. “Shh, it’s fine. You did so well, sweetheart. You’re so strong. You’re literally doing your best.”
“I’m a terrible mother and I annoyed like half of the shopping center, Baekhyun,” you muttered, hiccuping a little as you snuggled into his shirt even more.
He was caressing your back now, his other hand on the back of your head, stroking your hair. “What is this nonsense? You didn’t annoy anyone. You did a great job in tending to the little ones - you saw how peacefully they’re sleeping right now,” he whispered in your ear.
You scrunched up the textile covering his chest. “It’s hard. It’s so hard.”
“I know, I know. And I’m sorry I’m not there to help you all the time. I promise I’ll get better.”
You leaned back, shaking your head frantically as you searched his soft gaze. “No, Baekhyun, this is not your fault. You’re already doing so much. You’re the best partner, my best supporter.” You heaved out a heavy sigh as more tears rolled down your cheeks. “You’re perfect. And I’m trying to be good enough for you-“
This time Baekhyun was fast to shake his head, resolutely saying: “Don’t even finish that sentence. You’re perfect.” He whispered your name as he leaned into your face to make you pay attention to him. “You’re perfect.” His breath fanned your parted lips and you closed your eyes. “No one could be a better mother to my children. No one else could do it better than you. I promise you’re even better than before.”
You smiled, listening to his hushed whispers and feeling the warmth of his mouth on your lips. He pecked you quickly. “Don’t you worry about this anymore. You’re not getting rid of me if that’s what you’re trying to do.”
You gasped, snapping your eyes open. “I’m not- never!” you exclaimed louder than you should have and he put his finger on your lips.
“Shh,” he giggled, “not a single sound.”
You narrowed your eyes on him when he put his finger away. “You already have three kids with me - there's no way I’m trying to get rid of you, okay?”
He wiggled his eyebrows at you. “Exactly. Three.”
You laughed quietly, your mood instantly better. He hugged you tightly and even though your breasts were hurting, you didn’t mind. You needed a Baekhyun.
...
It was the big day. The pair of you was heading to the city hall to sign the marriage papers and you just finished tying your dress, carefully checking yourself in the mirror in your bedroom.
The Babies were gurgling peacefully, touching the simple toys you got them to support their curiosity while you heard Baekhyun approaching. You held your breath when you felt him stop in the doorway to the bedroom, his eyes drinking in your figure that looked gorgeous with the help of the dress.
Turning to him, you gave him a shy smile. “Do you like it?”
Baekhyun’s eyes were still traveling up and down your body before finally meeting your shaking orbs and he made the separating couple of steps towards you. “You look stunning.” His eyes fell on your covered up cleavage for a second before meeting your eyes again. “I don’t know this dress. Is this the one you bought last week?”
You nodded. “I went through a lot of trouble to get this dress,” you told him with a cheeky smile growing on your face. “So you better appreciate it.”
He gave you a handsome smile. “I’m loving it,” he murmured, leaning in. “It looks like it was made just for you.” He breathed a kiss on your parted lips as he snaked his arms around your waist. You hugged his neck, bringing him closer. He pecked you once more and whispered: “Always make it hard for me to keep my focus, princess.”
You giggled, shaking your head though his words made you all giddy from happiness. “Same for you, honey.” Baekhyun was clad in dress pants and white shirt politely tucked in, adorned with a black tie. He could make a simple suit look irresistibly attractive, to the point where you once again questioned your luck. It wouldn't be surprising if he ended up gaining attention from all the ladies in the streets.
He hummed, his lips just inches from yours when you moved to kiss him. Getting lost in the kiss, only a cheerful screech coming from one of your little ones made you separate and laugh as the both of you looked at the triplets.
“You like it when I kiss mummy?” quipped Baekhyun in his cooing, high-pitched voice. He gave your cheek that was turned to him a quick smooch, making you gasp and giggle just to earn another happy screech from your small audience.
Baekhyun was giggling like a little baby as well and before you knew it he was attacking you with gentle pecks, kisses and tiny bites that your babies couldn’t even catch and they were all cheering and laughing.
It was such a beautiful moment. You turned the game around and now your lips were attacking Baekhyun’s face, smooching sounds growing louder with each cheer until there were dissatisfied whines coming from Juna and Junhee. It seemed the more you kissed your husband-to-be, the more the little baby girls became unhappy.
You were a little shocked but snorted right away. “Oh, so I can’t kiss daddy? I’m not allowed?” you asked them seriously, while Baekhyun turned and had you press your back to his front, his head resting on your shoulder as he dreamily gazed at the babies.
Your answer never came so you turned your head and kissed Baekhyun’s soft cheek just to earn another round of whining. “Okay, okay, I’ll stop,” you pouted before they would start crying while Baekhyun couldn’t stop laughing. His palms squeezed your middle, a hum leaving his throat as he pressed a kiss to your neck. All three of the babies were more than happy now until Jun was the one whining.
You and Baekhyun exchanged incredulous looks before you started to laugh again. “I get it now,” mumbled Baekhyun. “You’re Jun’s, and I’m the girls’.”
Shaking your head you stepped away from him and crouched to kiss all three of them. “Well, what a revelation. But I,” you said, turning to your fiancée to catch him already gazing at you, mesmerized, ”will be yours soon.”
...
The entire process was a little less complex unlike what you expected. There were moments where you couldn’t stop imagining the signing of the papers happening in front of your families and friends in an actual ceremony where you’d be wearing a gorgeous dress and Baekhyun a gentleman's tuxedo. His expectant eyes as he would wait for you at the altar while you walked to him. The warmth and happiness you could share with your loved ones and create a memory that would stick with everyone for a long time, and for you and Baekhyun forever.
Weirdly enough, you imagined yourself still as a pregnant woman, the belly showing off beautifully in the white dress. The triplets would already be proving to everyone how much you and Baekhyun loved each other. 
You would have danced the night away. There would be traditions to keep, and it was as if the slightest breeze on the skin of your thighs in which Baekhyun was trying to take off your garter from under your dress, making everyone laugh and you blushing.
You managed to snap out of it when you had to sign the papers, then Baekhyun and eventually Chanyeol, the witness.
Even though you were smiling, you felt a sense of determination; you would make it happen one day. It was almost like a seal of promise when Baekhyun raised your hand to his lips and kissed you there, his eyes speaking volumes.
“Shall we move on to the date, my wife?”
And of course, neither of you were disappointed when you stopped at a tteokbokki food stall not far from your apartment. The elder lady greeted you with a smile and took notice of your attires.
“We just got married,” announced proudly Baekhyun as he looked at you with the softest gaze.
You giggled and raised your hand to show the ring which you have been wearing for a while but it gained a whole new meaning now. 
“I only wish the best for you,” she smiled genuinely, “where did you leave the kids?”
You plopped one rice cake in your mouth, the spicy sauce flaring up your taste buds right away.
“Our friends are looking after them,” replied Baekhyun when he tore his gaze away from you to look at the lady. “We thought we should enjoy this meal for a little bit before we have to face parenting duties.”
This lady knew you both since you arrived in Seoul. When you and Baekhyun were only working (and him studying) you’d come for her street food many times per week, it being cheap and tasty. After you got pregnant you didn’t come around that much as your life turned a little upside down, but she remembered you well and she knew about your state.
“Goodness, makes me think back when you were both so young and clueless about Seoul. I can’t believe you’re now parents to three and married,” she shook her head, as she clasped her hands together.
“We are still young,” you said once you swallowed your portion, “and clueless,” you added, dropping your gaze for a moment before looking up at Baekhyun who now reached out his hand to clasp around yours, squeezing gently. “But we have each other and together we can solve any problems that come our way.”
The lady nodded eagerly. “If there is anyone who will make it in this life and through all the hardships, it’s you two. A powerful duo.”
Both you and your husband laughed and the lady proceeded to add more food to “feed you properly on your big day”.
You chatted and laughed and exchanged stories, almost forgetting about the time. But one small message from Sukyeong left you reassured that you could enjoy each other’s presence for a little longer.
munchkins are asleep me and Chen ruined them omg in a GOOD way!!! don’t freak out ok eat loads kisses
You showed the phone screen to Baekhyun who shook his head, amused. “Then let’s go for a small walk, hm? Before heading back.”
And so you bid farewell to the lady, promising to stop by with the babies too and hand in hand you went to the nearby park, slowing down your pace to enjoy the weather.
“I can’t believe I can call you my wife now,” he murmured, looking into the distance. “You actually bear my name, Mrs Byun.” He turned his head to look at you with a small mischief in his eyes.
You pressed your side more to his as you hummed. Those last words he uttered sounded so, so strange yet they felt so right. From now on, you would really have to listen to Mrs Byun. Instead of your soft thoughts you exclaimed: “Yes I’ve been waiting for so long! I can take all your money and get away with it.”
That made your husband burst out into his signature, throaty laugh that you enjoyed so much. “You know whatever is mine is yours. Always.”
His sentimental thoughts changed the whole atmosphere and you couldn’t help not to sigh as you stopped walking to have him look at you properly. Without overthinking it, you looked around, checking for any intruders and when you deemed the air to be clean, you stood on your tiptoes and kissed him. Baekhyun was surprised for a friction of a second before he brought his hands up to your face and returned each of your kisses, letting you set the pace and lead the dance. Bringing him closer by locking your arms around his neck, he grunted gently, his other hand on the small of your back while he reciprocated the nipping on your lower lip. Wanting to tease him, you darted out your tongue and asked for permission to enter which he was eager to grant, before he couldn’t help himself and the slow pace any longer. His other arm flying to your waist, he brought your body closer, while he took the lead and explored your mouth, sucking your tongue and then your lip while his hand squeezed your waist. 
As shy as you were, you didn’t care that you were making out with your husband in the park where anyone could see you. His warm mouth on yours and his touches were something you’ve been yearning for without realizing, and if it meant kissing in public, you would do just that.
Breaking the kiss, both of you were panting, your eyes zoomed in on Baekhyun’s swollen lips while he was searching for your eyes.
“I love you,” you breathed, finally flicking your eyes up to meet his. “So much.”
He ran his tongue over his lip before speaking. “I love you more, sweetheart. And now we are officially each other’s.”
You smiled as your breath evened out. “That we are.”
...
You were packing.
Today, you would be moving to a new place you'd be calling home.
All your life and everything you went through - it was all packed up in boxes and bags. You were going through some of your old diaries that you re-discovered just now when you packed up stuff you already forgot you owned. Heaving out an excited gasp, you grabbed one of them and opened it, the pages still fresh and white as if everything you have written in there, all the excitement, passion, tears and hurt not leaving a single mark on the paper at all. It showed how careful you were with everything, especially with your past memories.
On the page that was now opened, your eyes caught a few words that made your heart beat loud and frantic: Baekhyun, lake and first kiss. Blushing, you recalled that moment very well; literally as if it happened only yesterday. Your writing was a little shaky and you swore you were reliving those emotions again when your own hands started to shake at the image of a younger Baekhyun slowly leaning in to claim your lips for the first time.
Quickly turning a few pages back, you once again caught a few words: disappointed, Baekhyun’s girlfriend, military.
You sighed, closing the diary quickly when you heard the babies’ happy gurgling. Looking up, you saw Baekhyun tending to them, cooing and rocking Jun in his arms while his other hand was tickling Junhee and he was making silly faces at Juna, making all of them smile that gorgeous toothless grin. You could swear you never saw such happy babies as were your triplets. It must have been due to the harmonic relationship and atmosphere you had in your home. 
Quietly, happy tears collected in your eyes and you finally put the diary away; it was a rollercoaster of emotions about everything that happened back in the days and you were way too young but already so madly in love with the man that was now your husband and a father of your children.
You picked another diary that was older and opened it. Ah right, you thought, blinking the tears away. The beginning of your high school years was where it all properly started. Your gorgeous neighbor growing into a handsome man that did physical work around your school, making all girls swoon while they were literally plastered to the windows during break time just to get a glimpse of the tanned Adonis; you slowly turning into a woman in his eyes and his attempts to pursue you. After all, you were the winner in your countryside school. He chose you. His little, shy neighbor.
You looked up from the pages and once again sighed. You were so thankful for the past but as of now, you were so excited about your present and future. And they were right in front of you. They were all yours now.
Simply yours.
BONUS CHAPTER
<3 <3 <3 <3  <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3
A/N: And that is the end of Simply Yours. I am emotional, not going to lie. I need to weep a little bit. Thank you for reading! :) hope you enjoyed this story! 
Please comment and reblog if you did!
You can also drop an anon msg on curiouscat (pls do)
Happy holidays and all the best in New Year!
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katnissmellarkkk · 3 years
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I *DEMAND* part 3 of shattered pearl. I repeat. I *DEMAND*.
Hahahahaha omg. Well, I decided to legitimately dig through the archives of my writing drafts and found chapter three of the Peeta-Wasn’t-Hijacked fic. It’s been given like 1,000 different names on different sites. I’ve never loved any of them. And I don’t really think this is my best writing ngl. But I also figure ... why be so stingy, ya know? If I have an incomplete draft, that I probably won’t finish, why not post a little bit? Especially since I literally left everyone and their brother who were reading this fic on a cliffy for over a year.
With that said.... I wrote this part like ... 15 months ago? 14 ? 13 ? Something like that. And I haven’t edited it since so ... yeah! Here’s a small chunk of chapter three! 🥳🥳🥳 Hope it’s better than I remember it being!
But it’s lacking something and it’s only then I realize, what I’m searching for inside Gale’s mouth, is the spark that only Peeta’s ever ignited in me. I keep waiting in vain for the warmth that started in my stomach and then rose up and exploded in my chest, for the craving that no matter what I couldn’t manage to satisfy, for the thrilling, almost hysterical, tingly feeling, to overcome me and leave me lightheaded in a completely foreign way. A way that couldn’t be attributed to lack of oxygen.
But it never does. I pull back and wipe my mouth carelessly on my arm and sigh, already sensing Gale’s demeanor taking a nose dive at my lackluster reaction.
I’m not disappointed when I look to see his expression. His eyes are frustrated, his mouth is downturned, his eyebrows are pinched together. And I feel as bad as I knew I would. Because no matter what, I’m hurting someone I deeply care for.
But how I feel upon seeing Gale’s face isn’t even comparable to the amount of remorse that fills me, that overtakes my entire being, when I see Peeta standing in the doorway, having watched our entire exchange.
/
I yelled his name as he disappeared down the hall. I tried to rip out all the needles and wires connecting me to the machines and the stiff, sterilized bed but Gale used all his strength to push me down flat. I was overpowered and exhausted and my left side was screaming mercilessly, and I don’t even know what pain was the bruised lung and what pain was my hurt ribs and what pain was my heart violently smashing into the pit of my stomach.
All I know is that if I had been able to reach Peeta before he evaporated, I have no clue what I would have said to him.
What I could have said to make it alright.
Gale tried to talk to me again after that but I entirely tuned him out, no longer caring if I wounded his feelings, or anyone else's for that matter.
It seems like no matter what I do, no matter how careful or cautious or preemptive I try to be, someone still got hurt in the end.
I wish I could just shut out the world, like I did during those first few weeks in Thirteen. Hide inside closets when I had a flashback. Shove myself into a minuscule crawl space with every nightmare. Refuse to speak to anyone who wasn't Gale or my family. Only eat when my mother nearly forced me. Show no remorse for how rude or how clinically insane I came across.
But now there was an agreement in place, an agreement I made to protect the victors—namely the one who just disappeared down the hall on me—and the people who had no voice on their own. The people who’s only chance was a half-crazed, shell-shocked, battle worn seventeen year old girl, who was just gunned down on national television.
Even if I wanted to retreat to some safe haven inside my head—if such a thing even existed for me—like Annie Cresta, I knew it could never happen.
For me, that wasn’t an option. If I don’t fulfill my duties to Coin, Peeta, Johanna, Annie and probably countless more people will suffer. The districts would undoubtably suffer. Gale would suffer. My mother and Prim would suffer.
I was proven right when later that same night Plutarch came to visit me again. I'd been lying on my side to avoid having to see Gale, who was still soldered to my bedside. My good side was thankfully opposite his seat.
When the Gamemaker spoke I thought I would be forced back to work. Forced to head back to the rebels and engage in their plans.
And I was resigned to it, well aware all along that I wouldn't be given the luxury of time to grieve the hurt I just caused Peeta. Or even the pain I knew I was inflicting upon Gale. The constant seesaw my heart was bouncing up and down on.
I was endlessly thankful that I was still pumped with morphling when Plutarch said that I was needed in Coin's office, because it heavily suppressed any real emotion I had brewing deep inside.
Morphling can cause you to let down your guard sometimes, make you say or do things you wouldn't otherwise or allow things to happen you'd ordinarily have the sense to stop. But it also causes all your severe emotions, all your heightened feelings, to dull as well. And for that, in light of everything that had just transpired, I was eternally grateful for.
When the doctor had removed all the needles from my arm, and I had been given a robe to go over my hospital gown—which, shockingly, was even uglier and thinner and itchier than the gowns they gave in the Capitol hospitals—Gale escorts me down the halls, through the corridors and to President Coin’s office.
I don’t speak to him the entire time. Looking at him makes my stomach churn with remorse and regret, though I’m not even sure who those feelings are directed towards. I’m not even sure how to articulate the way I feel right now.
And, as much as I try to force him out of my mind—as much as I do my best to rip him out from wherever he crawled beneath my skin and flooded into my veins—I inexplicably miss Peeta.
In more ways than I even know how to decipher. Even inside my own head.
I thought that feeling of longing would have ebbed away once he was rescued from Snow and his twisted mansion, but even knowing he’s safe here in Thirteen, I still crave his presence next to me.
I still want him next to me almost all the time.
It’s at least partially attributable to the fact that for so long, it was me and Peeta against the world. He has been my partner in this whirlwind rollercoaster since the first games and, even when I feel like every single aspect that could potentially go wrong has, sometimes it seems like I couldn’t have gotten luckier with who was chosen that fateful reaping to stand by my side the entire horrific ride.
I wipe my eyes as inconspicuously as I can but Gale sees and almost instinctively puts his hand on my shoulder. And proves he knows me better than I give him credit for. “I’ll talk to him, Katniss.”
“Don’t,” I immediately hiss. “You’ll just make it worse, Gale. He-he,” I struggle with explaining what I want to say and I curse my best friend for even addressing my moment of weakness because now I have to go talk to Coin, looking like an unstable mess—with a near bullet wound—and I blurt out the very first thing I can think of. “He doesn’t even know you, okay? You’ll just-“
There’s no malice in Gale’s voice as he softly replies, “Well, he was fine when I went and saw him before you woke up.”
I stop now, dead in my tracks. “You saw him? After I was shot?”
He nods slowly. “Yeah, I felt like should check on him. I know...” He pauses and looks upwards and I recognize, once again, this whole thing isn’t easy for him either. “I know he means a lot to you. And I heard what happened when he saw you go down. So I went and checked in on him...” He stops again before shrugging nonchalantly. “He was calmer by the time I saw him. He was nice. He’s always been nice.” At that Gale rolls his eyes. “Too nice. Probably why Snow wanted to hurt him.”
I start walking again, moving ahead of him a few paces. “You’re not helping,” I state, my voice a monotone.
“I’ll talk to him,” Gale offers again, running to catch up.
“Please don’t, okay? Just let it be. I don’t even know if he’ll speak to me, I don’t want to have to worry about what you’ll say to him.”
I vigorously shake off his hand on my shoulder when he tries to comfort me again, and feel him root into place as I make the rest of the way to Coin’s office.
And I wonder if I hurt him now too.
I wonder if I managed to completely annihilate them both from me in one night.
/
Much to my surprise and, to be completely honest, my utter disappointment, Coin doesn’t want me to head back out and fight for the rebellion. She doesn’t want me to even film more propos.
Plutarch does, but his ideas now are pretty frivolous and have more to do with him being still stuck in the fantasy of putting on a good show and less to do with fighting for the good of the country.
Coin simply says, “You did your job, Miss Everdeen. You united the districts,” in her calm, disingenuous—completely unsettling—tone.
And argument I put up is met with a simple shake of the head and a pursing of her lips. All indisputable rejections, her cold, blank eyes telling me wordlessly that in no way could I sway her once her mind was made up.
Still doesn’t stop me from trying though.
“I want to help the rebels,” I plead, looking to Boggs behind Coin’s chair, his face still stoic but his eyes giving me a look that isn’t altogether dismissive.
That was something. It was more than I was getting from either Coin or Plutarch.
Coin though brushes off my words and cuts me down infuriatingly quick with a single sentence. “Plutarch wanted to see Peeta earlier, talk about some propos. But when he sent for him, one of the doctors working with Peeta said he wasn’t having a good day.”
Her tone is smooth and pleasant enough but there was an undercurrent to her words that she knew I would hear. “Do you know how Peeta is? I would have thought with your waking up this morning, he’d be in better shape than he was but if you two aren’t getting-“
“Me and Peeta are fine,” I snap, not liking whatever she’s implying.
She nods, slowly at me, choosing her next sentiment carefully. “Well, let’s hope so. We need both of you now to remain the faces of this revolution. And I wouldn’t want you to do anything rash because of... problems between you and your... between you and Peeta.”
I’m shaking my head, feigning certainty, before she even finishes. “That’s not why I want to help the rebels,” I insist firmly.
“Irregardless, Miss Everdeen, we don’t have a job for you. You aren’t qualified to go into the fight and we no longer need your propos to unite the districts. Your job is done. Thank you for your help.”
And I know, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that I’m being definitively dismissed now. Indefinitely.
I don’t make any effort to keep my cool, instead choosing to storm out of the room, slamming the door cacophonously behind me and wonder why I let that woman get to me so much. Why her words and implications slice me open like a knife.
Why no matter how much I try, I just can’t like her.
Something about her rubs me the wrong way and, once again, I wish Peeta was here with me in the room, because he of all people could understand what about Coin felt off and strange and so familiar.
I curse myself again, as I suddenly miss him even more than before.
Unable to force myself to put my focus elsewhere—especially now that Gale is surely angry too—I change directions and head towards the recovery room.
I don’t even knock before entering. I push the door open, only to find him sitting on top of his bed, a sketchbook in hand, a lot more tranquil than I pictured.
He looks up as I enter—and then, simultaneously freeze in the doorway, like the coward I truly am inside. Before he can speak though, I blurt out, “I know you’re mad about me kissing Gale and I don’t know how much you saw or heard, but it wasn’t... it wasn’t exactly...” I stop because once again, I’m unprepared and out of my element and have no rhyme or reason in what I’m trying to say. I don’t know the right thing to say. I never know the right thing to say.
Maybe if I did, I wouldn’t screw always everything up. “It wasn’t,” I finally force myself to continue, off his patient and somewhat bewildered glance. “It wasn’t what I wanted... I didn’t want it to happen. I don’t, I don’t even know what-“
He finally puts me out of my misery now. “Katniss,” he speaks my name along with a sigh. I watch carefully, feeling a lump build in my throat, as his blonde brows furrow over his baby blues.
He shakes his head, slow and calm. Far more reasonable than I ever anticipated. “I’m not mad at you, Katniss,” he promises, with all the genuineness in the world.
I bite my lip, befuddled by his words. “But... where have you been then?” Why did you leave me? A small voice in the back of my mind demands.
He shrugs, his gaze falling down to his bed now. His demeanor is almost embarrassed, I realize with a start.
“I wanted to give you and Gale space. I’ve been practically mauling you since you woke up so I thought-“
“But I didn’t want you to leave,” I abruptly burst out, unable to shove the words down any longer.
A pang of embarrassment shoots through me though, for the pathetic crack, evident in my tone. And I mentally berate myself.
Not for the embarrassment. For the pathetic crack itself.
And for the fact that somehow I’m the frenzied one here and Peeta is the voice of reason.
Which used to be our norm but after everything that’s transpired, I would have thought things would be reversed by now.
He just stares at me for a long moment, carefully considering his next words.
Finally, he opens his arms slowly and utters, “Come here,” in a tender murmur and I practically fly into his arms before I can second guess the offer.
I feel my injured side screaming as I curl up like a ribbon in his arms, but I surpress the wince to the best of my ability and instead bury my face in his shoulder, breathing in his sweet scent like a mad girl.
He softly presses his lips to my messy locks, carefully massaging the back of my head soothingly. “I’m sorry I ran away,” he whispers, barely loud enough for even me to hear. “I was just embarrassed. I know—I’ve always known deep down—that it’s not right for me to constantly hold you to the things you said in the games. Or to project my own feelings onto you.”
“You didn’t,” I refute venomously, my brows knitting together.
“Katniss, I know you and Gale have had something between you for a long time.”
“Gale was just a friend until me and you came back from our first games. Maybe he wanted to be more even before, I don’t know, but I never felt anything romantic for him. I swear.”
“You don’t have to defend your feelings to me,” he states softly.
“I know, it’s just...” I sigh, moving to sit upright across his thighs. “No matter what I do, it’s wrong. If I say I’m confused, you’re both hurting. If I say I want to kiss you or sleep with you or just be with you, I’m leading you on because I can’t-I can’t make any promises about my feelings right now, because I don’t even know up from down anymore. And if I say I do or don’t want to kiss Gale or be around him or hunt with him still, I’m hurting him or giving him the wrong idea or telling him the wrong things, and it all gets confused and there’s an entire rebellion that I’m the face of, and now I don’t even know if I’m a part of that, but Snow and his followers all hate me still so I know family still won’t be safe until this is all over. And you. You and Johanna and Annie went through the ringer over me. And Gale gets upset whenever he sees us together—it hurts him to see us—but I can’t always seperate you two from one another and I just-I don’t know what I can do. I don’t know what to do anymore.”
Peeta lets me rant the whole entire spiel out, his hand slowly moving in circles to rub my back, from the top of my spine down to my backside. “Katniss,” he whispers once I’m done. “You don’t have to defend yourself to me. I get it. You’re under immense pressure. The last thing I want to do is make things harder on you.”
“You’re not,” I say, shaking my head insistently. “You’re not making anything worse, Peeta. It’s-it’s not you.”
“Okay,” he concedes and unconsciously wraps me up tighter in his arms. “Just relax, okay? Relax and breathe.”
I quiver and quake against him. “I don’t think I can.”
I barely realize I’m crying until Peeta leans down to kiss my tearstained cheek softly. “Katniss, it’s okay. I’m not mad. And Gale shouldn’t be. If he is, then that’s on him. The rebellion isn’t just your responsibility. Do not let them put all that weight on your shoulders. I know they already have but it’s not all your responsibility. And no one is going to let anything happen to your mom or sister.” He pushes my hair away from my forehead, pressing his lips there for a long moment. “Or you. I promise I will not let anything else happen to you.”
I swallow hard as he rests his forehead against my temple. I squeeze my eyes shut in hopes that it will make my head stop spinning somehow. Deep breaths to center myself fail miserably and in the end, I feel my bruised ribs and lung disagree with the movement and ache worse than before.
Peeta feels me cringing against him in pain and remains careful as he shifts, reaching for something off his bedside table.
I’m in too much pain to react as pushes off my robe and tugs my hospital gown down in order to slide against my skin, his hand holding it firmly to my side.
The icy temperature brings some sort of relief to me almost instantly, and I let out an audible sigh of relief, feeling my rigid body relax even a minuscule amount for the first time.
“I don’t blame you for having feelings for Gale,” Peeta murmurs, drawing my attention back to our conversation and away from my painful left side. “And if you want to be with him, I won’t hold it against you. I’m not going to lie, I’d be ... sad but... it doesn’t mean I wouldn’t still be your friend. It doesn’t mean I wouldn’t still be at jere for you however you needed me. There’s no ultimatums here, Katniss. I’m still here for you, even if you’d rather be with Gale.”
I pause for a long moment, absorbing his words. He’d be willing to be my friend, even if I hurt him? Even if I chose someone else over him? Even after everything we went through, even after all the ways he’d been abused because Snow could see how much I care for him? How much I need him. He’s still willing to put it all aside and be there for me, no strings attached.
And I try not to compare but my brain draws the conclusion almost involuntarily, and I can’t stop myself from realizing that, in the same position, Gale would likely not be telling me the same thing.
I burrow my face deeper in his shoulder, shutting my eyes in exhaustion.
Peeta catches me off-guard, moving my hair aside to kiss my neck, eliciting a flare of heat in the place where his lips brush my skin, and I may not know exactly how I feel, but I know in that moment exactly what I want right now.
“The only person I want to be with tonight is you,” I whisper honestly, looking up at him with pleading eyes, begging him to somehow understand an emotion I don’t know how to admit. “The only person I want right now is you, Peeta.”
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Come Together - Little Movie Star Chapter Five (Jensen Ackles x Daughter!Reader)
[Actors-Masterlist], [Little Movie Star-Masterlist]
Previous Chapter / Next Chapter 
Summary: It was finally time to meet the Padalecki’s. What if they did not like you? You were expecting a lot of things but you certainly were not expecting this. Were you dreaming? You had to be.
Words: 1,912
Warnings: language, Jared being a hugger (you’ll understand why I put it here), being uncomfortable, scared of having to go back, surprises, kinda a filler chapter but important for the future of this story
If you like my work & wanna support me: a coffee would be highly appreciated ❤
~2016~
Tonight, the Padalecki’s were coming over. When Jensen broke the news to you, you were excited but equally nervous. Danneel drove the kids over to their grandparents so they would not disturb you during dinner. Not that they ever annoyed you. The exact opposite, actually. You loved having them around. But you were supposed to focus on Jared & Gen tonight.
The thought of them getting to know you scared the shit out of you. They were the Ackles’ best friends, after all, & you wanted to leave a good first impression behind. It took you some time to figure out what you wanted to wear for dinner. It would be held at home so you did not have to overdress but at the same time, you found dressing nicely to be convenient. After changing your outfit one too many times, you settled on a simple look. While it was nothing special, you did feel confident in it. And confidence was definitely something you needed later today.
Spending hours in the bathroom was not planned, it simply happened. You wanted to look perfect. Danneel had told you that there was no need to worry, that they would love you just as you were. Being a fan of them for a long time, you knew they would never judge you by they way you looked. It just was not in their nature. Still, it could not hurt to put effort into your look, right?
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When you woke up today, the first thing you did was checking your phone. You knew you should not but sometimes you felt the need to. By now, everyone knew about you. And while the hate comments were becoming less & less, some days, you only noticed the negative responses. Of course, the media had picked up on the fact that you were a new person they could write about. There was not much to report about you, though. Some paparazzi had shot a few pictures of you over the time of you living in Austin. At first, you were creeped out by the idea of being watched 24/7. Now, you were dealing with it way better. When you were seen with Jensen, you posed for the pictures & it was fun to mess with them, really. Besides your first Instagram post, you had been quiet on social media. The hate wave still needed some time to die down & you did not want to add fire to the flame by posting more stuff about your new life. Surprisingly, the articles that had been written about you were mainly positive. Of course, a couple of them were looking for drama but because of your silence on social media, there was not much they could write about.
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Walking out of your room after checking your look in the mirror for the hundredth time, you saw that you still had an hour left before they would be coming by. You could ask Danneel if you could help in the kitchen. She had insisted on making the main dish while the Padalecki’s would bring over dessert. Danneel heard you walking in & gasped when she turned around to look at you.
“Wow, (Y/N). You look gorgeuous.” blushing at her words, you thanked her.
“Is there anything I can help you with?” walking over, you could already smell the delicious dish Danneel was preparing.
“You could set the table if you don’t mind?” she asked you & you immediately got to work, grabbing everything necessary to put on the table.
Hey, Dee?” you were at a point where calling her by her nickname did not make you uncomfortable anymore. Yet, if you had to be fully honest, being in Jensen’s presence calmed you more. Comparing your relationship to the beginning, though, the both of you had improved by a lot. And you were grateful that your trying was not for nothing.
“What’s up?”
“Where’s Jensen? Shouldn’t he…I don’t know, be here already?” you knew he was not the person to be late, especially not for something as important as this. Okay, it was just dinner but he was aware of your nervousness even days before. Danneel informed you that he was at the Padalecki’s house & would arrive right in time with them. Okay, good. At least he did not forget about it.
Ever since you had arrived in Austin, Jensen’s filming schedule was all over the place. The crew wanted to give him more time with you & the change in his life. This ended up in him flying back & forth from Vancouver to Austin almost every couple of days. It was exhausting & you had reasoned with him to focus on his work entirely, that you guys would be okay here. But nope, Jensen wanted to be there with his family & you appreciated his efforts a lot. A lot of weekends, he was at conventions all across the country but he always managed to stop by & spend time with you all. He was great.
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There was knocking on the front door & you knew it was them. Danneel asked you to get the door & you were silently preparing yourself. You had multiple conversations in your head & hoped that one of them would be fitting. Taking a deep breath, you opened the door. Damn, you knew Jared was tall but he was tall. You were pulled into a bone-crashing hug before any words were exchanged. Right, you knew Jared was a hugger, you had seen enough videos of him admitting that. Still, you were getting used to physical touch & his hug did more bad than good. You hated yourself for feeling that way, there was no need to be scared of hugs.
“Easy, pal. Let her go.” Jensen rescued you by tapping Jared’s shoulder. It was as if he suddenly remembered that you actually were not one for hugs. Pulling away abruptly, he scratched the back of his neck.
“I’m sorry…” he quietly apologized. “I’m Jared. It’s nice to finally meet you, (Y/N).” you could not stay mad at him, the look in his eyes & his smile was enough to forget the uncomfortable hug immediately.
“It’s no problem & likewise, Jared.” stepping out of the doorway to let them in, Gen came into view & she smiled sweetly at you. Not making the same mistake as Jared, she simply shook your hand.
“Hi (Y/N), I’m Gen. You look pretty.” would you ever stop blushing whenever someone gave you a compliment? You were not sure but it was something you could work on, you thought.
“Thank you. It’s good to see you.” keeping your nervousness at bay, you were proud when your voice did not crack. If you acted like this the entire evening, you would be fine.
Jared & Gen walked into the house to greet Danneel & Jensen stopped you before you could follow them. Facing him, you gave him a confused look, not knowing what he wanted from you.
“I’m sorry about Jared. I told him you weren’t one for hugs but that jerk doesn’t listen very well.” Jensen felt bad that the first interaction between you guys was uncomfortable for you.
“It’s fine, Jensen, really. I knew he was a hugger.” a laugh escaped you, one that eased him a little. Now he could tell you were not mad at what happened. It could only get better from now on, right?
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Dinner went by fast. It was easy to talk to them & while they did ask you a lot of questions, they were never uncomfortable. They knew where the line was that  should not be crossed. At least for the time being.
“So, (Y/N).” Jared started.
“Yeah?”
“I heard a rumor that you’re a fan of Supernatural?” he gave you a smile that showed you that he knew the answer to that question already. You nodded your head.
“Started watching about three years ago.“
“That brings me to my next very important question. Who’s your favorite? Sam or Dean?” oh, he did go down that road, great. You could feel Jensen’s eyes on you & Jared was looking way too confident. Honesty was important, right? Well, then you might as well confess.
“Actually…Cas is my favorite.” you admitted. Both, Jared & Jensen, gasped & acted as if the world just ended. You laughed at their antics. They could be such children.
“That’s my girl.” Danneel spoke up & high-fived you. Yeah, you could get used to that group of people.
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Danneel & Gen left Jensen, Jared & you alone, knowing what they were about to tell you. Jared had brought you a little gift. It was one of his hoodies from the newest “Always Keep Fighting” campaign. The one with the “Family Has Your Back” logo. After thanking him, you immediately put it on, loving how it fit you. It was a little too big on you but that made it even comfier.
“We have to tell you something.” Jensen started. Oh no. Usually, when people from your past started a conversation like this, you were sent back the next day. Wait…Would they really do that? After everything?
“O-okay?” hiding your nervousness was not possible anymore. Jared noticed you trembling hands & eased your mind before you got the wrong impression.
“Hey, it’s alright. It’s a good thing, I promise.” again, Jared’s smile had an effect on you. Maybe it was because he was so empathetic.
“Remember when you told me that you enjoyed acting a while ago?” Jensen continued after you nodded, “I managed to get you two auditions. They are online, so I can be there with you this entire time. That is, of course, only if you wanna do this.” your eyes widened at his words. Had you heard him right? He got you auditions? Plural? That was literally one of your biggest dreams.
“So?” Jared asked when you were silent for a few seconds. You just needed time to process everything. But holy shit. Of course you wanted to do this!
“I’d love to! What are the auditions for?”
“One is for being a main character in season 13 of Supernatural & the-“ Jensen was cut off.
“WAIT WHAT?! You’re kidding, right?”
“He so isn’t kidding.” Jared chimed in.
“And the second one?” everything was too much right now. How could you possibly deal with this information without freaking out?
“A role for the next Avengers movie.” Jensen finished. Yeah, sure, why not?
“How? How did you get these auditions for me?” you were shocked to say the least. What was happening?
“We do have some connections.” Jared winked at you & this time, it was you who pulled the both of them into a hug. Jared looked surprised while Jensen just smiled. He appreciated whenever you initiated physical touch, knowing it was not easy for you.
After the talk, Danneel & Gen joined you guys again & you excitedly told them about your upcoming auditions. That was so foreign to you. Having upcoming auditions. Even though they made sure that you understood that they could not guarantee anything, you were more than grateful that they even got you this opportunity. Supernatural & Marvel, both fandoms you loved wholeheartedly. And now you had the chance to be play an actual part if everything worked out. And how you hoped it would. Your life had changed so much lately & it could change even more now.
~to be continued~
Next Chapter 
Published (04/17/2021) by Cathy
Tags: @vicmc624​, @imaginationisgrowth​, @stoneyggirl​, @alyispunk​, @thevelvetseries​, @multifandomlover121​, @samsgirl93​, @supernatural3002​, @diabetes-03, @prettyybubblesintheair, @originalsoulcollector​, @vir-tual, @bellero​, @sergantbuckybarnes​ (let me know if you wanna be tagged <3)
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All That Was Fair 
Chapter 13: A Good Touch
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Chapter Summary: Claire learns one of Jamie’s secrets.
Read on AO3
Read chapter 13 on tumblr below the cut
Previous, masterlist , next
a/n: We take another foray into Claire’s brain!! The last Claire POV chapter was Chapter 7 (if you want a refresher on where she's at, maybe take a glance back there). I'll just remind you that it ended with "In that moment, she knew she loved him." :))
Chapter 13: A Good Touch 
***
Claire was lost in the heavenly feeling of water rushing over her skin— hot and soothing to her muscles, easing all the tension out of her. It wasn’t often that she felt truly warm these days. The few occasions included being wrapped in the soft (what was it called… blankit?) and sitting in front of the “space heater.” Or being wrapped in Jamie’s arms... 
As much as she loved all the human conveniences for warmth, nothing compared to the feeling of Jamie’s ever-present heat seeping into her as he clasped her securely to his body. Just the thought of his arms— unreasonably big but still soft, making them the perfect place on which to rest her head— twisted her belly and made her flush a bit. 
She tangled her fingers through her curls, letting the water flow down to her scalp. Her head fell forward in pleasure and a sigh escaped her lips.
But her luxuriating was interrupted by a woody bang from outside and Jamie’s voice calling, “are ye doin’ alright, lass?” 
She startled a little and then nodded before remembering that of course he couldn’t see that. 
“Better than alright. I’ll be out in a second,” she replied cheerily. 
Feeling a sudden haste (that may or may not have had anything to do with her human), she stepped out of the shower and grabbed the soft (also a blankit?-) thing... and used it to dry herself off. She wrapped it around her middle and then made to open the door. 
A bit of disappointment tugged at her when she saw that Jamie was nowhere in sight. Figuring he was taking care of whatever it was that he needed to, she padded down to her room to change. 
The collection of dresses they had gotten were delightful. She hadn’t had a chance to put them all on yet (especially after their hasty departure from Mrs. Fitz’ place), but just looking at them made her feel excited. Her favorite was by far the white one— it was most reminiscent of what the fair folk of the seelie court wore— but seeing the darker colors piqued her interest. She chose a dark blue one for now and quickly pulled it over her head. Her curls were still drying, but she didn’t think it’d be a problem. Peeking behind her to make sure her wings were covered (though it probably didn’t matter if Jamie was the only one seeing her), she decided it would do. 
As she wandered back into the hallway, meaning to go down and maybe find Adso, she suddenly caught sight of Jamie and her jaw dropped. 
He must have just finished with the shower because he was bare save the blankit wrapped around his hips and there were drops of water smattered over his chest and shoulders. There was no indication that he’d seen her, busy as he was doing… whatever it was that he was doing— but she couldn’t seem to take her eyes off him. When she had told him he was the most beautiful man she’d ever seen, she hadn’t been exaggerating. Looking at his smooth, tanned skin— dotted with occasional freckles that gave Claire the sudden urge to run to him and kiss every last one— she felt a heat rise in her cheeks. If only she could run her hands along every inch, to feel how smooth and soft it was under her fingertips...
But then he turned a little, getting ready to head toward his room, and she caught sight of his back. 
All the air was punched out of her. 
The skin of his back was marred terribly, the flesh criss-crossed by silvery-white lines that stretched all across it, healed laboriously from being brutally torn some time ago. Some indents were deeper than others, making divots in the skin, but others were barely visible other than faint lines. The scars made a terrible spider’s web across what should have been a perfect canvas. 
“Jamie.” 
It was completely inadvertent as she suddenly found herself rushing toward him and a sigh of his name tumbling from her lips. 
He turned and saw her, his eyes widening, and then he hastily angled himself to make sure she couldn’t see his back. His cheeks flamed red— not with the sweet color of embarrassment, but rather the hue of shame that sent Claire’s insides twisting all the more.
“I didna ken ye were there,” he forced out. 
Claire couldn’t be bothered with words at the moment. She reached out for him, feeling her heart break at the expression on his face and the thought of his old wounds. First, she gently cupped his face, feeling the stubble rough against her palm. 
“Let me see?” she entreated in a whisper. 
He looked reluctant for a second, but then nodded against her hand. 
With as much gentleness as she could possibly convey, Claire took him by the shoulders and turned him. He went willingly, and then his entire back was on display for her. All the trauma. The evidence of raw pain now healed but forever etched into his skin. 
As if drawn by a magnet, her hand raised and just barely brushed over the marred skin. He tensed at first, which almost made her draw back. But in the next second, he was relaxing to her touch. Her fingertips brushed across shoulder blades and down the plane of his back, hardly any contact. She could feel— not just sense, but actually feel in her body— the echoes of his pain. 
“What happened?” she whispered. 
“Dinna fash, it was a long time ago—” he started, but she wouldn’t let him get away with dismissing this as if it didn’t matter. 
“Tell me,” she pleaded. 
She placed her whole hand over his back and pressed gently in reassurance that she was here. He wasn’t alone. 
“It was a car accident,” he began, a slight tremor in his voice, “ye ken, what we rode in the other day? Sometimes they crash. I dinna mean tae scare ye, lass—“  Claire almost laughed aloud at this. Even in re-living his trauma, he still was so concerned about her. “—but sometimes things happen. Infrequently, mind ye. They’re verra safe. But this time it wasna. Another car hit mine. I was jes’ a foolish lad of 19, and I wasna strapped in properly. I flew through the front window and went skidding on my back across the ground wi’ all the shards of glass and pavement tearing up my back.” 
Claire wasn’t sure what half of those words meant, but she could imagine well enough. She felt sick to her stomach with how well she did understand. It took great willpower to keep her hand steady where it lay on his back. 
“I lay in agony for weeks. It took me so long to recover that sometimes I thought I couldna bear to live.” 
Tears were beading at her eyes and she had to swallow the lump in her throat. The force of the pain she felt for his suffering hit her like a wave. As much as she didn’t want to add to Jamie’s discomfort, she found she couldn’t stop the tears from falling. 
“I wish I had been there,” she choked as she resumed gently tracing over his scars, “I wish desperately I could have healed you. Eased your suffering. I wish—” the tremor in her voice halted all words. 
Her vision was so blurred that all she saw was a flash of skin as Jamie turned toward her so he was facing her again. 
“Ye’ve the kindest heart, mo nighean donn,” he said quietly.  
She felt his hands gently cupping her face, and his thumbs swiped over her falling tears. She cursed herself for making him comfort her in a moment like this, but the onslaught of emotion radiating from him had overtaken her. But if she was being honest with herself, it was far more than her sensing his suffering and emotions. It went beyond empathy— the thought of him in agony hurt her directly because of the force of her love for him. 
Looking up at his face through the gathered tears in her eyes, she said, “I’m sorry you went through that, Jamie.” 
“It only made me who I am today,” he answered.
There was such strength in his voice. A man wise beyond his years. 
There was a strength in his heart as well— one that soothed the surge of emotions and brought calm to Claire’s reeling mind. 
“Are you ashamed of them?” she suddenly burst out, “You turned away from me when I saw...” 
“I dinna-” he swallowed, “I dinna show them to anyone. I have no use for pity. I hate it when people look at me differently when they find out. It’s jes’ no’ somethin’ I talk about anymore.” 
“Thank you for sharing it with me,” she breathed, understanding the gravity of his trust, “I could never pity you, and you should never feel ashamed. They’re a part of you, Jamie. And everything about you is perfect.” 
The air had never returned to her lungs during this whole conversation. Her insides were still knotted up with the strength of her emotion for him, making it hard to force words out. But she needed him to know. She loved every part of him. And she wanted his heart— complete with all the wounds and scars. 
“Ye have a good touch,” he commented softly as he tucked a lock of hair behind her ear, “I’ve never let anyone touch the scars before, save the doctors and nurses or my family. But— I didna mind when you did...” 
The force of the last statement made it quite clear that he more than didn’t mind, he’d liked it, and Claire made a note to touch him as often as she could until he no longer thought of the scars as something ugly. 
“I like when you touch me too,” she suddenly found herself saying. She didn’t remember the words leaving her mouth, let alone deciding to say them, but she heard the echo of them in the air and saw quite clearly his reaction. 
Jamie’s whole body seemed to tense. He withdrew from her as if he suddenly couldn’t be near her, and her hand on him fell away to hang limply at her side. His downward glance as he avoided her eyes made her wonder if it had been wrong to say. The distance between them was like a blow, and the absence of his touch ached inside her. Perhaps she’d crossed a line with him? But for the life of her, she didn’t know what she’d done that was wrong. His energy had changed in an instant— one second they were sharing a connection, and the next, he was pulling away from her. 
“I’m sorry, I’ll— leave you to get dressed,” she stuttered out a bit helplessly. 
“Aye,” came his awkward response. 
When she gave him one last look before departing, she found his ears were red and he couldn’t seem to meet her eye. 
She went downstairs with a stone in the pit of her stomach, hoping desperately that she hadn’t inadvertently created a distance between them. 
***
The rest of the night passed with a soothing easiness. Jamie came down from his shower seeming quite his usual self again. She’d watched him make food while trying not to get entranced by the shapes of his muscles shifting underneath his shirt. They sat and talked for a while as he ate— him telling stories of his childhood and family. Jamie was quite the storyteller, and Claire found herself getting lost in his enthusiasm. His face lit up as he told her animatedly about his parents meeting, about his awkward years as a boy, and about an incident involving him, Ian, and an owl (at which she couldn’t stop laughing until her sides ached). Claire thought she would never tire of listening to him talk about his passions. She could tell he loved fiercely and felt things deeply, and that brought such a well of affection bubbling up in her chest that she had to get up and give him a hug. 
They sat on the odd, tall stumps, so she slipped off a little clumsily before bridging the distance between them, Jamie’s eyes wide as he watched her while he attempted to finish speaking. 
He chuckled as she looped her arms around his neck and squeezed— right at the end of his story. 
“What was that for, lass?” he asked, adorably breathless. 
His big hands came up to rest on her back, smoothing down it in response. 
She ran her fingers through his curls, enjoying their softness, and then answered without letting go, “you’re just so passionate, Jamie.” 
He had no response for her, but she didn’t mind. With one last squeeze to the nape of his neck, she let him go. But before she withdrew completely, she ran a tender hand along the length of his back. A silent reassurance of her acceptance of the scars— just as she promised herself she would at every opportunity. 
It was late. When she drew back from him, her gaze caught sight of the darkness outside, and she had to stifle a yawn. Seeing the distant stars (the familiar gleam making her bones ache with a sudden homesickness), she wandered closer to the clear square that let them view outside. 
“Tired, lass?” Jamie asked, craning his head to look at her from his spot. 
She nodded; there was no point in insisting otherwise (Jamie always could read her). As much as she would have loved to stay up to listen to more of his stories and look out at the stars, she was more than ready to sleep. 
“Will you lay down with me?” Claire asked, feeling suddenly shy. She didn’t turn around to look at him when she asked.  
There was absolutely no desire within her to spend any time away from him. She longed for the warmth and comfort of his arms— the long planes of his body against her. It was only with that safety and security that she found real rest. 
“Aye, give me jes’ a moment, lass.” 
Relief flooded her at his acceptance. 
Jamie rose, gathering his things, and she hovered behind him as he puttered around in the kitchen. The moment his hands were free and he started to turn toward her, she slipped her hand into his. He rewarded her with a soft smile that made her feel warm inside, and then took her up with him. 
Before long, she was under the blankits and waiting for Jamie to join her. She tossed and turned several times, her mind sorting through all the things that had happened that day. The argument, Jamie’s injury, learning about his past… there was so much to digest. In the unnatural quiet, her mind was racing with the assaults of too many things she didn’t wish to think about. It sometimes felt to her that life was moving so unbelievably fast. She wished it would slow down and give her a moment to breathe. 
That breath came when Jamie slid in beside her. Instead of laying down flat like he usually did (giving her the perfect opportunity to rest her head on his chest) Jamie fitted himself along the length of her back and pulled her close to him. The moment his body came in contact with hers, peace descended on her. A feeling took hold of her, a sensation that was indescribable and something she had never experienced before Jamie. 
“Is this alright?” Jamie asked with the sweetest sincerity that made her love him all the more. 
“Perfect,” she breathed, shifting back so she was fully encapsulated in his astonishing warmth. 
She drifted to sleep under the solid anchor of Jamie’s arms and the security of his presence.
***
a/n: So if you're wondering about the progress of this story... There are only 3 more chapters left in the first arc, ahh!! Things are about to ramp uppp, stick with me. But don't worry, I would very much like to continue with the arc II once we finish arc I. I prewrote all 16 chapters of the first arc, but the second arc only exists in my brain currently. I'm trying to get over some major writer's block + real life, but if you guys are interested, I hope to get working on arc II soon. 
Thanks so much for your support of the story, love to you all!!
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serenityseventeen · 3 years
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Love & Letter: To The Thirteen Boys I've Loved Before
The Twelfth Letter
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To: Chwe Hansol/Vernon
From: Y/N
Hello, Vernon.
It hasn't been that long. Actually, as I'm writing this letter, we had our first kiss a few days ago.
I guess I must have the worst timing when it comes to love or just falling in love in general. Maybe I took way too long getting to know you. Maybe I didn't believe in myself enough and I let the curse take effect again.
I told you about how I had the worst luck with love. During all of my time in graduate school, I haven't fallen in love again, but now, I guess I have fallen in love with you.
I don't know what it is that made me realize what I had for you was love, but from the moment we met, I felt a spark in my chest.
That day when I had my ears plugged with white headphones, looking down at my phone with music blasted high, you grabbed me by the arm and pulled me to your chest. You also had headphones on.
I guess that left a great first impression.
You saved me from a dashing motorbike that could have crashed into me and for the first time in years, I felt my heart race. With your hand holding my back, you asked me if I was okay, but I couldn't hear a thing.
Then, you removed my headphones and brought me back to reality when I was having a daze.
“Are you okay?” You asked as you let go of my body. “You should watch where you're going, always.”
I was almost too caught up in your handsome visuals to say anything. Your eyes were such a beautiful brown and your foreign-like visuals were mesmerizing. In the end, I just nodded and thanked you for saving me.
As you were walking down the street, about to plug in your headphone piece that fell, I was still able to feel my heart thumping. I brought my hand to my chest and I knew this undeniable feeling.
That's when I called out to you and told you that I'd repay you.
Liking you brought back the feeling of having a youthful crush. I felt like I could fall in love again. It felt like I was returning to my youth and I was able to recover all those broken love stories with yours. Of course, I knew I was just getting ahead of myself.
I didn't expect anything from us. Our career paths and majors were similar but also different. We didn't get to see each other often and when we did, it was usually always coincidental; at the coffee shop nearby, or library, or the burger place nearby campus... It was just like that for us.
We didn't start hanging out until I asked you out to the movies. Well, not really ‘asking you out’, I just asked to hang out as repayment, since you saved me from getting hit by a bike. I remembered that you liked to watch movies.
I guess that would be named our first date for me. It was fun, sad, and scary, thrilling, and fun, and I could tell that you enjoyed the movie a lot. It was awkward being at the movie theater with you at first, but the moment we sat down, you talked to me casually, making me feel comfortable when I was the one who should have made you.
You acted like yourself during the entire movie and seeing that side of you made my heart race. You laughed and clapped out loud. At times, you seemed to be an extrovert who was confident, and at times, you seemed to be a quiet introvert. Your personality baffled me in a good way but I know one thing for sure.
You give the best reactions.
Watching you laugh at the movie was enough to make me almost laugh as well. Before I knew it, I was enjoying it just as much as you did. I think the fact that I was with you left an impact on my happiness during that movie.
Vernon, you're a fun guy. We started hanging out more often after the movies. Sometimes we would even grab lunch together, go buy books, chill at the beach watching the waves, stay cool at a pool, etc, whenever we had free time. We also talked a lot with each other.
I liked that we talked a lot with each other. I had only a few friends that I could talk to but with you, I felt like I could tell you anything. You just had this trustworthy aura floating around you at all times and I knew I could trust you.
You seemed to tell me everything too. I'm glad that I could vent out my anger to you and you would always be willing to listen to me and give me advice. I'm also glad that I was able to hear all of your problems and help you with them too.
I remember a day, when we were walking in the park while drinking soda, you told me about your insecurities. It was the first time you ever brought it up. Usually, we didn't talk about anything too personal like that - just our families, work, friends, hobbies. Yet, you were able to tell me about what you were insecure about.
To me, Vernon, you seemed like a perfect guy that I didn't even know you had such insecurities. I don't want to write them down in this letter to you just in case someone reads it, so I won't. I'm glad I was able to make you feel better about your insecurities though. I just always remembered your insecurity and complimenting that part of your body made me feel happier too. I can still remember that smile of yours when I complimented it. It was so bright, shining, and warm.
Since you were able to tell me such things, I felt that I could tell you such things about myself too. I had many insecurities and as a person, I wasn't satisfied at all with how I looked. To me, everything about my body seemed like a flaw.
Thank you, Vernon. I can still remember that scolding tone of yours when you responded to my confessions.
“What are you talking about? Why are you even insecure about that? You are literally- your skin is perfect! Your hair- it's not oily at all?! And your fingers- I mean, they are so delicate, how could you even be insecure of them?”
I wanted to say the same thing to you. How could you be insecure about that one thing? To me, you were complete perfection with imperfections, and it was alright to be that way.
You took my hand and that's when I noticed your long and large hand. It was much bigger than but since it was the first time our hands were up against each other, I could finally compare the size; which revealed to be strikingly different, unsurprisingly.
Vernon, you were like a therapist. Every week that I spent with you, my feelings began to grow. I'm sure I loved you but at the same time, this feeling that I feel for you seems to be like friendship. I don't know if I love you as a lover or a friend.
I guess spending so much time with you made me realize what a great guy you are as a friend and potential boyfriend. I would be glad to keep you as both, it doesn't matter which one. I just wish that I could keep you by my side; though it's quite obvious that being friends is the more obvious chance.
A few days ago, we kissed each other.
I know you know which day that is because it's your birthday. You held a small celebration and invited me over. Of course, I wasn't expecting much but since it was your birthday, I decided, “Why not get dolled up for it?”
After the birthday party, we were both a bit drunk. I'm pretty sure I was drunker than you were so the memories I write down may be blurry.
Everyone else had left except us. The restaurant was closing and since I was drunk, it was a bit hard for me to walk. I managed to get out the front door with the help of your hand holding my arm but when I took a few steps outside of the restaurant, my feet finally turned to jelly.
Like a hero, you caught me with your large hands. You had pulled me with your hand and scooped my waist with your other hand.
Trust me, even though I was drunk, I was able to feel emotions and I was a tiny bit sober enough to think properly.
Standing in front of the restaurant in our cliche but romantic position, it just felt like the right moment for the drunk me. We were holding eye contact and though I couldn't tell what you were thinking, it seemed like you felt it was the perfect time too.
That's why I wrapped my arms around your shoulders and pulled your face closer to mine until our lips were gently mashed. My heart was pounding but I couldn't distinguish whether it was from nervousness or enjoyment.
I just remember your warm breath and the strange sweet taste of wine lingering on your tongue as you kissed me. I'm sure the kiss was a bit sloppy but to me, it was passionate and sweet, even though I was a bit out of it. You had your hands tracing up and down my waist and hips while my hands were digging the back of your hair, my chest pressed against yours.
After that, I think you took me home.
After your birthday, you told me that you'd want to stay friends, though it seemed like you were a bit unsure of what you were saying. I was fine with that decision though because, after the kiss, I sort of felt that it wasn't right for us to date. It seemed like to us, friends were the best we could be. You and I could lean on each other.
Kissing that night on your birthday was probably just a one-time thing for you and me.
I'm glad that we can stay friends though. Even after that kiss, you're acting normal around me, like we're still friends, which I'm thankful for.
Up until now, I'm pretty sure I loved you. Love is a confusing topic to me. I still love you.
I've loved you romantically.
And now, I'll love you as a friend.
I'm thankful enough for that.
Sincerely,
Y/N.
-----------------
© serenityseventeen
7/13/21 - 8:40 pm
a/n: Vernon Chwe... Gosh why does he look so good in that photo!? + I have a plan/general plot for a book but I am having trouble deciding the male lead... I plan for it to be a fanfiction but I'm stuck on the male main character.
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aliynavenus · 3 years
Text
DamiRae Fanfic: New Years Eve 
(Authors Notes: I’m late ik. Most likely won’t be that good. It was just an idea I had and ik I’m late with posting it but here it is. Don’t have high hopes. Really. My writing could be worse considering I haven’t wrote in over 4 months ahhhhh i’ll shut up so you can read and judge.)
She almost felt awkward with him being here. It’s not like it’s the first Damian has been in her room. Though this was different. They were friends, close friends in fact. Companions in which they understood each other including the bond that they shared ever since the first week they met, it may have been such a long time ago but they never felt the need to find some kind of reverse spell to erase it. 
They may not have want to admit it. But they like that link shared. It was a disclosure that made them feel less lonely in their life. 
“Are you sure it’s alright to go with you?” She yelled loud enough for him to hear her while he was getting dressed in her bathroom. 
“Of course, it’s New years eve. You shouldn’t be alone at the tower.” his words were muffled yet she heard him. 
Right. New Year’s Eve. She didn’t mind spending it alone, though Damian insisted her to come with him to his father’s annual new year’s eve charitable gala. When she denied, the next day Bruce mailed her an invitation, which surprised Damian just as much as she was. 
Taking by how long she was thinking, Damian cleared his throat echoing back with hesitation “If you’d like we could stay here and not attend I can make an excuse to my Father.” 
A small smile was tugging the corner of her mouth realizing how considerate he was of her. He knew her well. Knowing the dislike they both shared for over crowded meaningless parties or crowds. Although...
That wasn’t negotiable. Denying an invitation from Bruce Wayne--scratch that--The Batman was more terrifying then having to face her own damn father. “No th-that’s alright. It’ll be nice. I don’t mind going.” 
That wasn’t the problem. Being seated, looking at herself in her grey vanity mirror. She felt pathetic even thinking this but she felt insecure in going. She glanced down at her off the shoulder tight maroon dress--that was obviously Donna’s-- it barely filled up her small chest. Great, just to top off her one of many insecurities for tonight. The lavish dress that Raven had no idea could even exist in Donna’s messy closet. She felt weird. If that was even the word to describe it. 
Glancing at the side of her mirror she could see the small reflection of the of her bathroom door slightly open. A string of heat spread across her cheeks having a visual of Damian’s bare tan back covered in scars and bruises, some fading yet some were still fresh. His shoulders were broader, muscles taking up his biceps, he wasn’t too muscular like his father but he sure was getting there. 
 They may have not been together or anything like that. But she felt good when she was around him. Forgetting all the thoughts that reminded her of being a sinful demon’s daughter. He made her feel normal without even realizing it. 
“You seem lost in thought.” Damian’s voice knocks her out of her thoughts, as he comes out of her bathroom. Fully dressed in simple black trousers with an olive oxford, sleeves rolled up making him look too damn irresistible. In the years she’s known him he was always the best at hiding his emotions. Never showing any sign of what he was thinking, it made her feel powerless.
It was almost if he was ready to seek girls attention, though that was never his intention. It almost bugged her even more in fact. How can he look like a god himself, without trying. 
“Nope, I’m okay.” she clears her throat wanting the linger of her thoughts to disappear. She stares at his chest, noticing the small specks of Titus’s fur stuck onto it. Good thing she always had a spare lint roller in her vanity drawer. “You have some Titus’s fur on you.” 
Getting up from her seat, she walks over her to him. Damian was easily a head over her, she felt so small compared to him despite her being a year older than him. 
Damian’s jaw tightened as his eyes wandered around her body slowly. She didn’t want to look directly at him yet, in fact it made her knees become weak if his stare kept boring into her.  
 Rolling the roller on top of his chest, it wasn’t a lot but just enough to leave a clean slate. His signature scent of fresh wood and ginger corrupted her, leaving her want to be filled with his fragrance. Raven looked up at him, his eyes already staring down at her. He looked tense, almost like he was battling with his own inner thoughts that she couldn’t comprehend. His emeralds with specks of gold sprinkled onto his irises. His eyes it was like they were imprinting onto hers. 
“You look beautiful.” 
What? His soft voice, almost like a whisper that he didn’t want to be heard. She could have sworn that she could see a slight rush of pink onto his cheeks, to the tip of his ears. Yet he didn’t show any feature of his face of embarrassment, always hiding how to react. 
She wasn’t any good in that realm. Slowly looking down to bite down a smile that was creeping on her lips. “Thank you.” 
Warmth rushed up her skin, as she felt his fingers caress her forearm. His thumb running slowly back and forth as if he was taking in every part of flesh. She could practically feel his stare boring into her when she lifted her head up. Everything that was felt upon her felt gentle, his touch, his stare, everything. 
If she was being honest, she’d rather stay in this moment with him. She’d rather stay at the tower with him alone. She wanted to have him touch her more. She wanted this to herself. Was it a selfish wish? 
“Don’t leave my sight. I want you near me.” 
Damian’s voice was a low rumble.It was more a command than a request. The words coming out clear and rough against her. It made her body feel as if it was just electrocuted. It made her feel small, not knowing what quite to say. Raven waited for him to continue. But he never did. Instead he stayed quiet, avoiding her stare that she so desperately wanted to meet. 
She wanted to say something. Anything. But the words never left her lips. A silence stretched between them. 
Damian’s hand left her forearm already missing the touch of his hand. She saw his hands digging into his pockets, clearing his throat. “We should go, my father is most likely waiting.” 
All she was able to do was nod and walk to her grab her heels. 
----------
At the gala 11:13 p.m (Been there for an hour) 
She wasn’t having fun. Now that she thinks of it, she should’ve accepted his idea in staying home instead. There wasn’t anyone she knew here, all of them either being business owners to reporters to simply models from heaven. 
Her insecurities were through the roof when she stepped foot in the Wayne Manor. The flashing gleaming chandelier lights, the polished floor of marble, the endless crowds of people faking smiles to each other while being handed drinks every 2 seconds. Women, even young girls dressed elegantly with beauty that was beyond compared.
Honestly did Bruce make everyone who was gorgeous attend the manor. Of course the men here were handsome too but none quite compared to Damian. 
Who might she add, has been charged by the many reporters and young--next heirs to be--women who threw themselves onto him when they first got there. 
Yeah. There was no way of getting near him with the herd of people surrounding him. 
Raven shifted towards the wine table, azar it was new years eve she might at least try to enjoy herself. Taking a glass of filled wine, she took it in sip by sip. It may be practically impossible for her to get drunk since her powers can easily be consumed over it, she did get the euphoric pleasure for a few minutes. 
Her feet ended up drifting her towards the small isolated balcony at the end of the hall. The wind was cold, but it felt fresh against her skin. 
“Don’t leave my sight. I want you near me.” 
She kept remembering over and over. They were simple words, but they struck her. His tone, his eyes, his short breaths, everything was so still. He processed her at that very moment, and she was ready to give in. She wanted to think the way she did, she wanted to consider maybe for one second think of the thought that maybe, just maybe he felt some sort of way towards her--
Though that wouldn't be accurate. Damian would never. Who was she kidding, truly. 
“You look like you need a friend.” Turning to hear the familiar voice.
“Roy?” She was taken aback. She hasn’t seen Roy aka Arsenal since he left the Titans a year ago, going solo even though he was only a year older than her.
Turning her body following his movement as he placed himself next to her leaning against the balcony.  “I didn’t expect to see you here.” 
He chuckled, revealing his dented dimple on the side of his cheek. His simple red oxford with grey trousers complimenting his darken red ginger hair. “I should be the one saying that. Didn’t think gala’s were your thing. You’re kind of outta your element don’t ya think.” 
Roy leveled the extra drink he had in his hand to her, eyeing her waiting for her to accept his drink. 
A relieving sigh, her breath dusting into the cold air. “Thank you.” She took a sip, “I am out of element, Bruce invited me to come along with Damian. You?” 
Roy shrugged, “Oliver’s here, half of this gala is for charity and since I’m most likely the next heir to his company he wanted me to come talk to a few business people about profits, marketing, you know.” 
Raven nodded, taking another sip of the smooth flavor that danced on her tongue. She knew nothing of that but she rather pretended she did. 
A silence stretched between them, “So you came with the snarky brat tonight, hmm. As a date?” 
Raven almost coughed up her saliva, “N-No of course not.” she gestured her head towards Damian who was talking to a pretty tall brunette with blue eyes like Donna. “She’ll probably be a better date then I will ever be for him.” 
“Oh?”  He sounded intrigued. “And why do you say that?” 
She couldn’t tell if the wine was kicking in, but she knew it wouldn’t last long considering her powers will only take it over. But right now she didn’t care. She turned her whole body to take the sight of Damian and the girl, “Because Roy, look at her--look at them.” She motioned towards them with the drink still in her hand, “They look like that perfect ideal couple that I see in every damn cover on Donna’s magazines. She belongs in this world. I don’t. Oh azar, I was never supposed to belong with anyone in the first place. But him, he may be snarky, stubborn, and so stupidly difficult but he belongs with good. He needs good. I’m still learning how to just be that right now.” 
Her whole voice felt raw and fragile in the back of the throat, the glass that was once full of wine now was gone. Roy sighed leaning his neck back, looking up at the sky. “You and him were always so gullible.” his words were so quiet, as if it wasn’t meant to be heard. “Damian doesn’t need good. What he needs is someone to understand that weird obnoxious mind of his. You really think these females will ever understand him, understand the Al-Gual part, the Wayne part, the Titan part, the jerkoff part especially. I don’t think so, Rae.” 
Raven sighed turning to face Roy. His tone, his facial features, his posture, everything seemed so easy to read off of him. He was being genuine, helpful, caring yet cautious of his words. “He really is something else.” 
“Yea, a real pain in the ass too.” Roy chugged down the last ounce of whatever strong alcohol he had. 
“I could say the same to you, Harper.” 
Raven bit her lip when she heard Damian’s voice. Oh Azar, what happened to him talking to that girl. 
Roy didn’t even look startled, keeping his stare directly at Damian. She almost forgot how much they never really could handle one another but only minerly had to tolerate each other during missions.
Damian's eyes were dark, his jaw ticked. No longer having that warm fake persona he put on for people. “Harper.” 
“Wayne.” Roy nonchalantly said putting his arms up. “I didn’t do anything to her.” 
“As you shouldn’t be.” The tension between their voices was like a ticking time bomb. “I’ll be taking her for now.” Damian's fingers intertwining with hers escorting her out of the balcony. 
Her mind felt hazy with the sudden pull of Damian. She gave a smile waving off to Roy who was trying to hide a slick smile at them. “Happy new year, Roy” 
“Happy new year’s Rae.” 
--- 11:46 --- 
Raven looked around where Damian was taking her, having no idea what hall they were in but was only grateful that no one was in near sight. “Where are we going?” Her mouth finally working, she suppose the wine was wearing off. 
“Alone.” was the only thing that managed to leave his lips. Yet it sounded like there was more to be said. His eyes never meeting hers like he was having his own war inside of him. 
He was angry. 
Finally pulling them into a room on one of the highest floors. He escorted her in, turning on the dim lights behind her. The room was simple, almost no decoration, a bed in the middle, along with some simple books scattered, swords hung on the wall. 
“Why am I here? It’s almost New Years shouldn’t we be downstairs.” pause. “Shouldn’t you be faking a personality for people right now.” 
Yup the alcohol was still in her. Or maybe it wasn’t just the alcohol anymore. 
She almost hated how annoyed her voice sounded.  Though part of her drunken speech to Roy did make her hate Damian right now. Him saying she should be near him tonight when really he was the one playing distant heir the whole night. 
Damian leaned back on the door crossing his arms, his jaw ticked again. His eyes were a shade darker, nothing sort of gentle behind them. “Why were you with him?” 
Damian completely ignored her questions. Raven gave a dry chuckle; it only made her want to bite back, “Who? Roy? At least he was keeping me good company, rather than you being tossed around by every stranger.” 
“You really don’t--” Damian stumbled, he was biting his tongue. He wanted the words to come out of him so she could easily see it. He was frustrated knowing well he wasn’t going to win against her. 
“You don’t get it Raven.” pause. “I wanted to be with you this entire night like I said.” He glanced away from her, “When I told you that, you didn’t respond. I felt foolish for saying what I said to you Raven. I thought maybe I managed to push you away, I hated myself after that. Even now I hate this. I hate not knowing whatever I feel when you’re around me. Whenever your aroma consumes me, I could practically fall to my knees for you Raven.” 
This couldn’t be.
Did he..? 
Damian scratched the back of his neck, gesturing his hands in the air, “And when I saw you with that imbecile. God I wanted to steal you away from him, I didn’t care.” 
Every step he took to her, was just a request she wanted to make to just fall before him. He gently brought his hands to cup her cheeks to look directly into his eyes. Nothing was fake, his eyes, his eyes. This was all him. Everything she’d never expect from him, “I told you to be near me tonight because you look so beautiful. I didn’t want anyone even taking the sight of you. Your too fuckin diserable even more me.” 
Like her….
Tracing her bottom lip with his thumb, she wanted this, wanted him. 
Bringing her fingers to wrap around his wrists, she lifted herself up to touch her lips with his. Damian’s lips were rough against hers but she liked it. 
-------- 11:53 ----- (Damian's Pov) 
Their lips crashing together was a different euphoric sensation he hasn’t felt. His fingers were tangled into her soft hair, running along the back of her neck. His tongue sliding across her lower lip, her taste, her stroke with her tongue mingling with his was just too damn good. He wanted to conquer every part that he could, admire her with his reach. 
Every touch that he made on her made him feel unworthy, a damn perfection she was that he felt unworthy of. 
Raven’s breaths were short, hot as she was having a few touches of fun of her own for him. Her fist clenching onto his shirt pulling him tighter while the other on his bicep, her touch was burning into him that he hoped would leave a mark on him. 
He took in no time to trace her body downward, admiring every dip and curve on the formatious tight dress she had. Leaving small pepper kissed onto her neck, and open shoulders
Raven winced, and it was a lavish melody he wanted to hear again. Licking, and biting every part of her open bare skin displayed on him. He wanted people to know she was his. Just as she should be, just how she should have been. “Damian” 
He shivered at the way his name sounded on her innocent voice. Coming back up to capture her lips he needed. He took this time to grab her thighs, lifting her up. Raven cupped the back of his neck and cheek to keep her well balanced not wanting to miss a single taste of him. His mouth dominating over hers so slowly, teasing her, biting her, over and over again.  
Walking towards the bed, he seated himself so now she was on top of him. Damian pulled away for a second, he was admiring her. Hell, he was taking in every part of her, her fists bunched into his shirt surely causing wrinkles he didn’t care for, her hair becoming slightly messy but still looking so utterly perfect, her elegant dress now being bunched up revealing her velvety thighs before him. Her lips were now pouted, bigger than her normal size. Damian leaned her chin towards him coming in gently to place small kisses on the small bruises on her lips that were faded from his bites. 
He was known to be rough yet she didn’t seem to mind at all for him. 
“You are too good for me, my beloved.” 
Damian could feel her goosebumps form on her arms, he tried hiding his smile from her. Raven only managed to shake her head, causing Damian to run a lingering touch on her back, “Tell me you’ll let me stay by your side, Raven” 
Raven let out a relieved laugh, her iris eyes lighting up with bliss. It was a sight he’d love to see over and over if he can. “Don’t leave it and I won’t leave yours.” 
Grabbing side of her cheek, fiddling with her hair. He wanted nothing more than to stay by her side for as long as she’ll let him. He cared--no--treasured her. 
All his life he understood everything, there was never a question or puzzle he couldn’t solve. Everything was simple for him.
But her. Raven. 
Damian was never able to understand, he felt sinful when he had thoughts about her, thoughts about them simply being together. He didn’t think she’d accept him then more than a teammate. He was fucked up. He never saw her as a weapon that was destined to be. 
She was pure to him. A soul to protect. To keep safe. 
Shouts and bottles of corks were muffled through the room hearing everyone chanting happy new years. He stared back at her running small circles on her back. “I promise, Happy New Year, my love.” 
Bringing his lips to collide again with hers. Raven chuckled, against him. “Happy New Year” 
Now the only thoughts left were wondering how in the hell were they going to manage to keep this a secret from the team and his father.
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whenihaveyouromione · 3 years
Text
When I Have You - Chapter 13
A/N: Hermione's Mudblood scar is the one thing in the movies I wish was book canon, so I've included it in here. But I am well aware it was only addressed in the movies, and not the books.
Don’t forget to follow this story’s Instagram account: whenihaveyou.romione
Read on Fanfiction.net or ao3 if you’d prefer!
-------------------------------------------------------
Chapter 13
Crookshanks jumped up onto the bed, rousing Ron from his almost-sleep state. It was nearing midnight and his mind had only just started to shut down from all the thoughts running through his head.
Only a few hours ago, he'd found himself in a field with the other trainee Aurors in a realistic situation of an attack with Dark Magic. They were forced to work in teams to solve the problem and capture the “culprits.” 
It had been the hardest task so far, for a lot of it had been mind games, rather than actual magic, but they'd all passed. 
Afterwards, like it had been in the week that had passed since Hermione’s return, he'd come home and spent time together with his girlfriend. Then she'd gone home to her parents, he'd gone up to bed, and the day would begin again the next morning. 
Whilst not ideal, it was what worked for them. Her parents' memories were slowly returning to normal, and as each day started, she became more confident in leaving them for longer periods of time. From what she’d told him, Ron thought they seemed happy to begin taking up normal aspects of their lives, such as going into London for things they needed or going out for meals at night.
Crookshanks walked across the bed, purring loudly as he searched for the most comfortable spot to sleep for the night. 
It was nearing midnight, but Ron was unable to fall asleep — which was nothing unusual lately. Not having spent a single night with Hermione since her return frustrated him. He so desperately wanted to have her sleeping beside him again, to have his arms around her, to feel her warmth. It was lonely up in his room at Grimmauld Place when he knew that she wasn't too far away. 
Crookshanks eventually settled by his head, taking up half of his pillow, his purrs louder than ever. Ron reached out to scratch the cat behind the ears. 
He really was rather fond of Crookshanks now, and pleased that Hermione had asked him to continue caring for him. He'd begrudgingly accepted Kingsley's offer only a few weeks ago, but the request meant more when it came from Hermione. Besides, Crookshanks and he got along well when he wasn't after other animals Ron was fond of. 
Ron had just started to drift off when something loud startled him awake again. At first, he thought he was dreaming, but he saw Crookshanks lift his head in the dark. 
Something was banging. 
Ron reached for his wand on the table beside him, lighting it and looking around. His room was empty. 
Crookshanks jumped from the bed and scampered from the room, meowing loudly.
From across the hall, Harry's bedroom door opened. Ron saw the reflection of Harry's wand light.
"What on Earth is that?" he heard Harry say. The banging was getting louder, echoing throughout the house.
"It's the door," he then heard Ginny whisper. "Someone's at the door." 
Ron sprang from the bed, joining his friend and sister in the hall. They both looked surprised.
"It must be someone we know," Harry said. "They wouldn't be able to find us otherwise…"
The three of them descended the stairs slowly, the desperation of whoever was at the door becoming apparent the closer they got. 
They'd almost reached the bottom when a voice shouted, "Ron! Harry! Please open up. It's me!"
"Hermione!" Ginny said, and she ran the rest of the way down the stairs, into the hall and to the front door. 
Ron just reached the hall himself when Ginny opened the door. 
Hermione flew into the room, straight past Ginny, and threw herself into Ron's arms so forcefully that he staggered backwards against the wall. 
"Hermione?" he said. "Hermione, what's wrong?" She trembled in his arms, and it took him a moment to realise she was sobbing. Her face buried against his chest as her whole body shook with terror. 
Ginny came to stand near Ron and Harry, and they all looked at one another with a great deal of concern. 
"Hermione," Ron said again, wrapping his arms around her, "what's the matter? Is everything okay? Are your parents —"
"It's her," Hermione sobbed into his chest. "It's… it's what happened. I… lived it… again…"
Ron shared another look with Harry and Ginny. Ginny looked very pale under the wand light, the usually stoic Hermione apparently unsettling her in this state.
"I don't understand, Hermione," Ron said. "What happened?"
But Hermione shook her head, refusing to break away from him. Her tears soaked his pyjamas as she pressed herself into his embrace. 
"Why… why don't I get you a glass of water?" Ginny suggested in a shaky voice. 
"Come and sit down," Ron said, and finally managing to pull her away from him, he guided her towards the living room where he forced her to sit on the couch. Harry lit the gas lamps around the room with his wand and now that he could see her properly, Ron saw that she was terrified. He'd never seen her look so frightened before. 
He sat beside her and she immediately fell into his arms again. 
Ginny returned with the water, but Hermione didn't realise, so Ron set his wand aside and accepted the glass.
"Hermione," Ginny whispered, "what happened?"
Ron felt Hermione shake against him again. He held her tightly, letting her know it was okay. Her tears dripped down his arm. 
"It felt so real," Hermione sobbed. "Like I was there again…"
"What did?" Harry asked. "Like you were where?"
Hermione's hand moved down to her arm, and Ron saw her fingers trace the scar that had been etched into her skin some months ago now. 
And suddenly he understood. 
"Hermione…" he whispered. 
"What?" Ginny asked, looking at Ron. 
Hermione had not spoken once of what had happened to her at Malfoy Manor. It was as if she had wished to forget, and it seemed that she had for many months. Until now, when she no longer had to worry about fighting and winning a war, or finding her parents. Now, she had all the time in the world to ponder it. 
"Hermione," he said again. "Are you… it's okay." And like he had done so back in Malfoy Manor, he wished nothing more than to have been the one to endure her pain. 
Hermione shook her head. "It was a dream," she whispered, "but it was so real. I felt it… the pain… I felt it all again."
"It's okay," Ron repeated, holding her so tightly against him. "It's okay."
Ginny's face was so pale now. Her eyes darted from Ron, to Hermione, then to Harry, who also seemed to catch on to what Hermione was talking about. Harry had been there too; he had heard Hermione’s screams.
"What —" Ginny began. 
"It was the curse, Ginny," Harry whispered. "The Cruciatus Curse. Bellatrix Lestrange…"
Ginny looked sickened. Hermione trembled in Ron's arms. 
"It felt so real," Hermione said. "Like I was there again. I woke up, terrified, and I came straight here. Please… please let me stay."
"Of course," Ron said. He wouldn't have let her leave in this state, even if she'd wanted to. 
"Hermione," Ginny said gently, "Is there anything you need? Anything we can —"
"No," Hermione whispered. "No, I just need…"
The words were left unspoken, but everyone understood. I just need Ron. He squeezed her even tighter.
"Will you be okay if we go back upstairs then?" Harry asked, looking at Ron. It was clear he didn’t think he should intrude, despite being Hermione’s best friend. 
Ron nodded. 
"Let us know if you need anything," Ginny said as she followed Harry from the room. 
Hermione kept her head buried against Ron; the absence of Harry and Ginny didn't even draw her away. 
Ron's own resolve broke a little, his mind going back to when they'd all been held at Malfoy Manor. He remembered the screams like it had happened yesterday. He remembered the pain, how desperate he'd been to try to get to her. 
But that was nothing compared to the pain she must have felt; the fear she’d felt. He'd not once seen her more frightened than he did now, curled up against him, shaking so badly, even after the dream had occurred. 
"It's alright," he murmured, "it's alright."
Ron didn't know how long they sat there for, not speaking. Gradually, Hermione stopped trembling. It was well into the early hours of the morning when she finally moved, pulling herself away from Ron's hold. 
When she looked at him, she barely resembled the Hermione he knew; her puffy, red eyes distracted him from her tear-streaked face. Her hair was more dishevelled than usual, and the look of absolute terror on her face had him wanting to pull her towards him again.
"Ron…" Her voice barely broke a whisper. "Stay with me… please."
"I will," Ron said. "Of course I will." He passed her the water he was still holding, and she accepted it. 
"I don't want to go through that again."
Ron watched her, unsure of what to say. He couldn't tell her that the dream wouldn't happen again, because he didn't know. He'd never experienced the Cruciatus Curse before, but he had been tortured mentally by part of Voldemort's soul, and he remembered that the dreams, the voice inside his head, had come back night after night, even weeks after he'd stopped wearing it. 
"I'm here," was all he said, and she rested her head against his shoulder. 
It took Ron a moment to realise that she’d fallen asleep. Her rapid breathing evened out, and when he glanced sideways, careful not to move too much, he saw that her eyes were closed. 
That was where Ron stayed for the rest of the night. His arms around her, sitting on the sofa, not moving. His body became numb, but he didn’t dare leave her, not for a second. Sleep didn’t come to him at all, sitting in the darkness, as the lamps had gone out long ago. By the morning, when Ginny and Harry came back down for breakfast, Ron was still wide awake. 
“Ron,” Ginny said quietly, “you need to sleep.”
“Can’t,” Ron said, “I have training in a few hours.”
“You can’t possibly be considering —”
“I have to. It doesn’t matter. I’m okay. Don’t worry about me.”
Ginny gave him a disapproving look that reminded Ron of his mother, but she said no more. She left the living room with Harry.
Hermione stirred against him, her head lifting up from his shoulder. She looked around the now light room, blinking. 
“Oh, no!” she said. She looked at Ron. “Why didn’t you wake me?”
Ron could only smile at her. “It’s okay… it’s okay.”
She sat up fully now, untangling herself from his arms for the first time in hours. She still looked shaken from the night’s events, but the few hours of sleep had brightened her. 
Ginny and Harry entered again, the latter eating a piece of toast and dressed for training. Hermione and Ron both looked at them.
“I’m so sorry,” Hermione said. “About last night. About…” 
“Don’t be,” Ron, Harry and Ginny all said at once. 
Ron stood up. “I have to go in today, but if you’d rather I stay…”
Hermione looked as if she wanted nothing more than for him to stay, but after opening her mouth and closing it again, she shook her head. “I-I’ll be… fine.”
“I can stay with you, Hermione,” Ginny said, speaking over Ron, who had just started to say he’d take the day off. 
Hermione smiled. “Thank you, Ginny, but I should probably go home. Mum and Dad…” But her eyes glazed over for a moment, as if she was remembering the nightmare. When she came to a few moments later, she smiled again and nodded. “Thank you.”
Ron kissed her forehead. “I’ll just go and get ready,” he said quietly. 
As he went into the hall, Harry followed. “Hey, are you going to be alright?” he asked, sounding concerned. “You didn’t stay up all night, did you? We have curse-breaking today. That requires some concentration…”
Ron stopped, turning to face Harry. “I couldn’t just leave her. You saw her, she was terrified. What was I supposed to do?”
Harry glanced over his shoulder, back towards the living room, and then looked at Ron again. “You sure you’re going to be okay?”
Ron nodded, heading for the stairs. “Maybe just make sure you have some triple strength coffee ready when I come back down,” he said. 
The day was a slow one. The lack of sleep didn’t bother Ron nearly as much as his worry for Hermione did. When he’d left that morning, she’d perked up ever so slightly, but he didn’t know if that was only for his benefit. 
His mind kept flashing back to her trembling in his arms, the absolute terror she must have felt in having to relive being tortured by Bellatrix Lestrange. Then, he kept remembering that moment, all those months ago, when her screams had filled every part of him, drowning him in fear and panic and being absolutely convinced that she was going to die that day. He remembered the sickening feeling of dread that had overcome him, how he couldn’t stop calling her name — for her benefit, and his own — and how every scream was both a blessing (because it meant she was still alive) and as if someone was running one hundred knives through him at once. 
Harry nudged him, not for the first time. 
Ron startled, glancing down at his wristwatch. It was only eleven.
“Sorry,” he muttered, and he returned his focus to the list of deadly curses they had to identify the counter-curse for. 
“You really should have taken today off,” Harry muttered. 
“Probably.”
They worked in silence for some time, Ron’s mind once again drifting. Harry recorded the remaining counter-curses before setting the quill down. 
“Now to just actually remember how to do them,” he said. “That’s after lunch, performing them on dummies. Should be fun.”
“Yeah,” Ron murmured. “Should be.”
Harry shook his head. “Do I need to shove another coffee down your throat?”
“Maybe something stronger,” Ron said. “Something to stop me from worrying.”
Harry smiled. “Not sure they have that here, mate.”
The rest of the day dragged on even slower than the first two hours. It was the first day since he’d started training that Ron wished he wasn’t there. It seemed talking about curses was the worst possible thing to be discussing after what had happened. Everytime an Unforgivable Curse was mentioned, his mind flashed back to the horrors of Malfoy Manor, and then to Hermione cradled against him last night, more vulnerable than he’d ever seen her. 
By the time five o’clock came around, he was a total mess. He stumbled through the fireplace, tripping over the step that kept all the ash in. When he looked up, swearing at the fireplace, he saw a frantic Ginny before him.
“What’s happened?” he asked. “Is Hermione okay?”
“She’s asleep,” Ginny said, her calm tone not at all matching her expression. “She’s been okay today. She says she should go home, but she wants you to go with her.”
“Me?” Ron asked, frowning. “Why?”
Ginny shrugged. “I don’t know. She loves you, she feels comfortable with you. I just think she’s very, very frightened over what happened… Ron, what did happen?”
“Harry said last night,” Ron said, “Bellatrix Lestrange tortured her on a pretence of searching for information, but it was Bellatrix Lestrange. You know why she did it. Why she chose her and not me or Harry. Where’s Hermione sleeping?”
“In your room. Ron, you mean she… she did that just because of who Hermione… is?” Ginny followed him quickly as he headed for the stairs. “That’s —”
“Sickening,” Ron said. “Yeah, I know. Be thankful you weren’t there when it actually happened…” He stopped on the landing, turning to face his sister. “You seem really bothered by it. Are you alright?”
Ginny’s eyes darted towards the hall where Ron’s room was. Then she looked back at Ron, nodding. “I just… I just wish I knew more about what you all did… none of you ever talk about it.”
“And there’s a reason for that,” Ron hissed. “A very good reason.” He pointed behind him to where Hermione slept. “No one wants to relive that.”
Ginny nodded, but said no more. 
Ron walked quickly towards his room, pushing the door open. Hermione was wrapped tightly under the covers of the bed, her eyes closed, her breathing even. 
He sat on the edge of the bed, unsure whether or not to wake her. It was the calmest he'd seen her since yesterday.
But his weight on the bed disturbed her, her eyes blinking open sleepily. She looked up at him, smiling weakly.
"Hey," she said.
Ron returned her smile, pushing down his concern for her. "Hey."
"How was it today?"
Ron shrugged. "Alright." He squeezed her hand from somewhere under the covers. "Ginny said you want to go home…"
Hermione nodded. "I… Mum and Dad will be so worried."
"I'll go with you," Ron said, pushing aside his doubt around being in the presence of Hermione's parents. It would not be exactly how he'd imagined meeting them for the first time as someone other than Hermione's friend, but… when had he and Hermione ever been conventional?
She smiled again. "Are you sure?"
Ron nodded. "Of course." He offered his hand to pull her out of bed. She looked so tired still — more than Ron even felt — and still rather frightened. But at least she was smiling again. 
When she was on her feet, Ron added, "You up for Apparating there? I've no idea where your house is."
Hermione nodded, gripping Ron's hand tightly. 
Hermione Disapparated them into a small front garden, covered by large hedges that hid them from view of the cul-de-sac where Hermione's house was. 
It was a quaint place, big and two-storeys. Ron stared up at it. 
They'd barely reached the front door when it flung open and Hermione's mother appeared, looking both relieved and very upset. 
"Oh, Hermione!" she cried, flinging her arms around her daughter. "You're alright! We were so worried. We… we weren't even sure you actually had been here at all — our memories were a bit —" Her eyes fell on Ron, who immediately dropped Hermione's hand that he'd still been holding, though it seemed a bit silly afterwards.
"I'm alright," Hermione said, her tone emotionless. "I just… well… I just needed to see…" She looked over her mother's shoulder and into the house. "I really just need to go to bed."
Hermione's mother stepped aside as Hermione walked past her. Ron followed quickly. 
“Hermione —” her mother tried, her eyes wide with fear and shock. “Hermione, what happened? Why did you disappear?”
Her father had come into the hall now, looking just as bewildered. 
“I-I’ll explain in the morning,” Hermione said, not meeting either of her parents’ eyes. “I… promise.” And before they could say anything more, she disappeared up the stairs, presumably to her room. 
Ron, along with her parents, all watched in silence at the space Hermione had just stood. Then, to Ron’s complete surprise, her mother addressed him by name. 
“Ron… what… what is going on?”
Ron turned to them, feeling his face go red. He’d not at all imagined himself standing in the hall of the Granger house, alone with Hermione’s parents. But they looked so desperate, and he didn’t think lying to them was the way to go about it. 
“Perhaps we should all sit down?” Hermione’s father suggested, indicating an archway slightly behind him. 
Ron nodded and silently followed him and Hermione’s mother through the archway and into the living room. They offered him an armchair by the unlit fireplace, and they sat on a couch opposite him. 
“Is she… is she okay?” her mother asked, her voice trembling slightly. “Is it… us?”
“Er, no,” Ron said, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. 
“Then what?” her father asked.
Ron looked between them, debating what exactly he should say. How could they possibly understand what had happened to her? How could he tell them that, after altering their memories for their own safety, their daughter had gone off on a deadly hunt for parts of the most evil-wizard-to-ever-exists’s soul, had risked her life for a world neither of them were apart of, and then at one stage had an illegal curse performed on her that caused pain so excruciating that some people never recovered from it? What would they say?
But how could he lie to them either? 
Hands wringing together, silently wondering if Hermione would murder him for telling them, he said, “How much do you know of, er, what happened after you… went to Australia?”
“Absolutely nothing,” Hermione’s mother — Jane, wasn’t it? — said, her voice a whisper. “She won’t tell us a thing.”
“Right,” Ron said. “Right, well…” And in that moment he made the decision. He had to tell them. And he did. He did his best to spare them the most horrifying details of the months following their departure from England, but he gave them the basis, stumbling on what had happened in Malfoy Manor more than once. He had to go back a few times to explain certain magic terms as best as possible for them, and when he did feel like they understood at least somewhat better, Ron found himself choking on his words a few times as he revealed the darker details. By the time he finished, both her parents looked at him, horrorstruck. 
“She… she was tortured?” her mother asked. 
Ron nodded.
"But… why?"
Ron said nothing for a long time. He stared at them both, feeling slightly sick. How was he supposed to answer that question truthfully? Had Hermione ever told them what it was like in the wizarding world for someone born to Muggle parents? And if he told them, what would they then think of him? Would they understand that not everyone shared those views? Would they understand how he felt about her?
His mouth opened, then closed, then opened again. He averted their gaze, focusing on a small spot on the armchair. Eventually, he said, "They were just evil. This person… this Bellatrix Lestrange… she thought Hermione had information she needed. Which, she did, but Hermione… she didn't tell her…" He jumped to his feet, unable to bear their shocked faces any longer. "I… I'll go and check on her," he said. "And then I'll go home."
He went back into the hall and ascended the stairs two at a time. Reaching the top landing, he found himself standing in a small area with four doors. He had no idea which one led to Hermione's room, but his first attempt at opening one found him staring into an immaculate bathroom. 
He found her room on his third try, Hermione once again asleep under a whole lot of covers. He watched her for a few moments, debating whether or not to do anything else, but then she stirred, her eyes looking at him heavily. 
"Stay," she whispered.
"I —" Ron glanced over his shoulder, as if expecting her parents to be lingering, to see what he'd do. But they weren't; of course they weren't. 
He moved over to the bed, where she was staring up at him, still half asleep. "Please stay," she whispered, and she shuffled over in her bed to make room for him. 
Suddenly, the events of the day hit Ron like a Bludger to his head. The no sleep from the night before, the eight hours of training, and then explaining to Hermione's parents just what had had her running away from their house last night. Suddenly, he felt as if he could sleep for three days straight. 
"I'll stay for a few hours," he said, and he laid down beside her, shoes on and everything. He'd stay until he was sure she wasn't going to relive the nightmare again. 
But he was so tired, that the next thing he knew was the sun shining through Hermione's window, and her mother was calling them both down for breakfast. 
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miaouerie · 3 years
Text
whumptober 2020 ------ day 30. wound reveal
@whumptober2020​  Rebelcaptain Hunger Games AU: Cassian is Jyn’s mentor in the 70th Hunger Games. After being crowned victor at fifteen years old, Cassian is all-too-familiar with what it takes to bring a tribute home, and what becoming a victor really means.
content warnings: none
previous: day 1 / 2  / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6 / 7 / 8 / 9 / 10 / 11 / 12 / 13 / 14 / 15  / 16  / 17 / 18 / 19 / 20 / 21 / 22 / 23 / 24 / 25 / 26 / 27 / 28 / 29 / → read on AO3 
“And remember, Jyn: one fighter with a sharp stick and nothing to lose…”
“Can take the day,” Jyn finishes reciting faithfully.
Saw looks at her with pride, before lowering his voice. “It is my hope you’ll have more than a sharp stick in the Arena. Your mentor will be whom you rely on to improve your odds; impress him and he can get you what you need to survive. I’ve taught you plenty—but how far you get won’t be based on your fighting skills alone.”
Jyn frowns; he can only be talking about Cassian Andor. “He hasn’t brought back any of his tributes. How can I trust him to help me?”
Saw lowers his voice even further. “You can’t. He’s been in the eyes of the Capitol for too long. But he’s your only hope in the Arena. Therefore, your only hope to get out.”
-
Saw’s words rattle around in her head as Jyn lies in her bunk. The way the train car gently sways on its tracks as it speeds its way towards the Capitol could almost be soothing, except for the fact that they’re hurtling their way to near-certain death.
…no, she can’t think like that. She tells herself it’s only a reflexive fear, borne of the circumstances that she’s been forced into of all the sheer, rotten luck in Panem. If only she hadn’t gotten reaped, she and Saw would have been able to complete their mission, then abscond out of District 5 as planned. She could have been seeing her mother again in a week’s time. If only…
Well, no use in dwelling on it now. She turns onto her side facing the bulkhead, determined to get some shut-eye before the morning brings with it the next day.
And with the next day will come the next time she sees Cassian. What transpired a few hours ago comes to mind unbidden—she had thought herself clever for kissing him to quiet his words (was he really so foolish to not think about the train being bugged?), but after he spotted the Peacekeeper approaching he reacted in kind. Taking her into his arms in a false display of intimacy like that. And it worked; the Peacekeeper quickly left them alone.
But then there was that kiss before they bid each other goodnight. He didn’t have to kiss her then, did he?
Jyn forces herself to stop thinking so she can go to sleep.
-
The morning of their first full day in the Capitol has Jyn waking up to three sharp knocks on her door.
“Jyn Erso. Breakfast is in the dining room.” That Capitol accent can only belong to Davits Draven, their escort. “I’d advise you to eat before you have your meeting with your stylist.”
The stylist. Kay. She had met them and the other stylist for Joule last night when they were prepared for the Opening Ceremony. But she already knew who they were in the way that most people in the districts, from the Games’ mandatory viewing, were familiar with the faces of stylists and mentors and victors and commentators amidst the ever-changing pool of tributes. Kay’s surgical augmentations were distinctive compared to the Capitol trends that ranged between somewhat natural and grotesque; his body was covered with a matte chrome synth skin, save for his face and hands which were kept as—presumably—his own pale skin tone. His eyes shone with a luminescence in the viewing stands that she could see from the chariot as the horses pulled to a stop around the City Circle during last night’s Opening Ceremony.  
Jyn gets out of bed, selects a normal-looking outfit from the closet, and joins the rest of the party in the dining room. Joule is talking to Cassian, probably for the first time since he went catatonic at the reaping. But at the sound of the glass doors sliding open, their attention is turned to her.
“Good morning Jyn,” Cassian says, his tone perfectly placid. “Care for some breakfast?”
She sits there and eats quietly while the conversation flows around her. Compared to the intensity that radiated off of him last night, his conversation with Joule gives off the feeling of being polite yet distant; she vaguely wonders if he wrote off her district partner as she already has.
At the conclusion of their breakfast and after Draven comes to collect Joule first for the meeting with his stylist, Cassian crosses over to her side of the table and sits down next to her. “He’s pleasant enough,” he says about Joule, “but I’m not convinced he has a chance to make it out of the bloodbath if he freezes up like that again.” He gives her a wry look. “I trust that I don’t have to worry about that with you?”
Jyn knows he’s thinking about the way she slammed the cabin door shut on the train and then tried to fight her way through a squadron of Peacekeepers; she recalls the memory with a grin. “Trust goes both ways, right? I’ll show you what I’ve got in the Training Center.”
-
Draven brings the three of them down to the level that houses the enormous gymnasium they’re to train in for the next three days and leaves them there. Joule seems at a loss for what to do but Cassian offers to point out some of the more useful, rudimentary survival skill stations, so Jyn decides to take her own tour around the periphery.
There’s the weapon stations, of course: swords, spears, knife-throwing and the like. Then there’s the skill stations, like knot tying and snares and camouflage. Then she sees there are trainers available for hand-to-hand combat.
Her hands have been itching to come to blows with someone since that Peacekeeper held a gun to her head and Draven informed her, in his gratingly crisp Capitol accent, that there was no escaping the fate decided for her the moment her name was drawn in the reaping. She decided right then and there she was going to change it in her favor.
So she goes to the combat station and easily spars with a Capitol attendant there. It’s just like sparring with Uncle Saw, so with a few words and a jerk of her head she has the other trainers that were supposed to be available for other tributes join in; first, as two against her, and then she takes on all three. The sparring match finally ends when she’s knocked to the ground and a foot is planted firmly on her chest, but the grin the trainer’s giving her doesn’t seem  mean-spirited as they help her back up. It’s only while she takes a moment to fix her bun and catch her breath that she sees what an audience she’s gathered, including attention from the Gamemakers, and that’s when the lunch session is called.
Disappointingly, Cassian is nowhere to be seen when she quickly scans the people who had been watching her. But she does accept the invitation from the Career pack to sit at their table for lunch.
-
Jyn doesn’t see Cassian again until that evening after Draven comes to collect them back up to their floor in the Tower. He’s sitting in the dining room with Kay, in different clothes than she saw him in that morning. Not that she noticed.
“I heard you impressed quite a few people in training today,” Cassian says as they eat their dinner. “How was she, Joule?”
Joule has gone quiet again. He fleetingly makes eye contact between her and Cassian before he nods his head, once.
Jyn decides to save them from the awkward pause that’ll follow. “If you stuck around, perhaps you would’ve seen it.”
A look of surprise crosses his face before Cassian lets out a short laugh. “I would’ve loved to see you sweep three trainers, but I’ll have to wait and see you in the Games. It’s up to you if you want to team up with the Careers or not but you’ve certainly got their attention, both as a potential ally and an enemy; take care to remember that. I want the both of you to check out all the weapons stations to get an idea of what will be available in the Arena but make sure you spend enough time learning survival skills. And Joule…”
The stricken sixteen-year-old boy looks up.
Cassian softens his tone. “I’m doing my best to secure sponsors for both of you. It’ll pay off in the Arena but I need you to survive for that to happen, so make the best of the next two training days and then we’ll go over final interview strategy with Draven. Alright?”
Surely he must know that Joule doesn’t stand a chance, Jyn thinks. But there’s something in the set of his shoulders, giving her the impression that he’s giving himself a pep talk as much as he is to them.
-
The evening following their private sessions with the Gamemakers is when the tributes’ evaluation scores are released. For the gamblers the scores dictated the odds to bet on in macabre betting pools; for the tributes, each score was a sign of who’s a threat and who can be ignored or—for the Careers—who will be easy pickings. When Jyn’s picture is shown on the screen followed by a 11, the others congratulate her and she smiles her thanks as she thinks about Saw. Is he watching her on national broadcast? He has to be, if he’s still in District 5. Would he feel proud of her so far?
But then she has an upsetting thought: what if he’s already left the district? What if he was able to complete the mission without her and he’s already gone off to the rendezvous? What if he’s already written her off as good as dead?  
She can’t afford to think about that. After dinner she goes to the roof, wanting to get some air and privacy without locking herself up in her room. This will be the only time she’ll let herself cry, and then it’s game on. Tomorrow is the last day before the Games begin, and she’ll be spending the entirety of it with Draven and Cassian.
She finds a bench to sit down on, draws her knees up to her chest and hugs her face to her thighs. It takes a moment for the tears to come, as unused to crying as she is, but she lets out the sobs and sniffles as much as she’s able to without letting herself dwelling too much on her doubts.
When someone sits down next to her she somehow already knows it’s Cassian. He lightly touches her shoulder as if to ask permission, and when she finally peeks at him from the shelter of her arms he scoots a little closer and carefully wraps a comforting arm around her back.
They stay like that for a while until Jyn’s sure the tears have dried up. Then she asks, “Why’d you follow me up here?”
“I’m your mentor. You’re my tribute,” he says with amusement, as if the answer should’ve been obvious. “But… I wanted make sure you’re alright. You’ve held up strong so far, Jyn. I know you’re committed to winning this thing.”
“I am, it’s just…” Jyn bites her lip. “I can’t help being nervous.”
“Nobody can.”
“I keep thinking about the worst.”
“…Do you want help getting your mind off of it?”
Jyn can’t help how her lips quirk up at that. “Why, are you offering?”
Cassian doesn’t hesitate. “Whatever you need. I said it on the first night; I want to help you in any way possible.”
She knows there’s suggestive intent in his words. But the way that he says it expresses a pure, earnest wish to help.
So, she doesn’t feel bad when she leans in to kiss him.
-
She can’t help but think about that last kiss and the make-out session that followed each time a silver parachute comes to her in the Arena. She’s received ten so far; in the past Games Jyn’s watched, it’s the Careers who receive the most gifts from sponsors eager to help their favored tributes win. While there were some morally repugnant people in the districts who were betting on the same tributes, ultimately only those in the Capitol could impact the odds; nobody in the districts had that much spare money to frittle away gambling on the deaths of children.
As the Games continued on, the price of sending gifts and aid increased. Even in the Capitol there was a hierarchy to sponsorship, with only the wealthiest sponsors holding sway in the endgame. The Games commentators often interviewed those uber philanthropists on the public broadcast of the Games and so Jyn even knew some of their names: Laertes Crake, Cygnus Vondel, Trimalchio Plena. Having made it this far, she wonders if any of the boons she’s received were sponsored by any of them.
It’s nighttime in the Arena. Jyn rests in the shadows of a ruined entryway, taking care to remain concealed. An unnaturally full moon illuminates the ruins of the game field; the Gamemakers made it so that each night alternated between bright moonlight and the darkness of a new moon. With each night, instead of resting, the tributes found themselves playing a deadly game of moving shadows and evasion and hunts in the dark.
Jyn wouldn’t have gotten this far in the Games without Cassian’s help; he had sent her heat vision goggles early on. The gift enabled her to evade the other tributes until more death cannons were fired, and when it came time to go on the offensive she had a frightening advantage.
But that boy from the Career pack must have gotten his hands on a pair too, because how else could he have known she was going to ambush them? He’d cut her with his blade, poisoning her with a paralytic, and she had genuinely believed she was going to die that very night. But true to her mentor’s word, the sight of a silver parachute some hours into the darkness of a new moon cut through her panic; inside was a sweet syrup that faded away the worsening stiffness in her body and left her feeling rejuvenated. She was able to get some good, actual rest for once that night.
This night hopefully she will, too. Tomorrow will be the day she has to attack the alliance stronghold, otherwise the Gamemakers might decide to set muttations on them or create some other disaster to force them into action. As she starts to doze she thinks about him. Cassian.
Going into the Games she knew she had an advantage not even the Career tributes could fathom, by virtue of being secretly trained in insurgent and resistance tactics by her uncle. But she had also known that what Saw said in their last words to each other was right: she wouldn’t make it far without help from her mentor. She would make it past the bloodbath and survive maybe a few days, but when the real challenges began she’d get killed by something or other, and there’d go any chance of her making it back to District 5 to complete the mission and get away with Saw.
While Jyn knew she must have earned some sponsors with her score from the Gamemakers’ evaluations, Cassian was ultimately the one in charge of handling them and dispensing gifts to her in the Arena. He might even have marshalled for her cause when she was in dire straits, such as when she got poisoned by that blade. Back in the Capitol he must be doing a lot for her and she can’t even begin to grasp what all of that could possibly entail; she owed him more than she could put words to.
And better still yet, after each night and day of fighting to stay alive, it felt nice and reassuring to be cared for. To know that somewhere beyond the Arena there was somebody from back home who was doing everything they could to help you. Because they believed in you. If she died in the ensuing struggle tomorrow she could at least die knowing that.
But if… when she wins, it wouldn’t be a lie to say she’s looking forward to seeing him again. To thank him. To let him know he sustained her both physically and emotionally throughout the Games. That just thinking of their last kiss on the rooftop did something to help to temper her fears, soothe her nerves after the stress of each day, and feel more ready to face the world about to kill her.
She thinks about these things, tucks them into the warm recesses of her heart. She might be facing certain death tomorrow but she won’t let his help be in vain.
And then disaster strikes with the earthquake.
-
Time is moving too erratically for Jyn to keep up.
It had seemed immeasurably long when the earth and the Arena shook beneath her feet, sifting the crumbling ruins to dust and debris on top and around her. It was a miracle that she was still alive, that the collapse of ruins she was by had pinned her leg to the ground beneath two walls that fell to support each other. Her heart beat in absolute terror, loudly and wildly out of her chest, as she waited for the dust to settle and for any possible aftershocks to finally strike her dead.
But time sped up once more once she had freed herself and made it to the general location that the alliance hideout formerly was. One moment she was emerging from her almost-tomb and in the next moment she’s leaning against the remains of a doorway to catch her breath, hardly knowing how many tributes she could take on or how many even survived.
When that dust-covered hand grabbed her ankle she had fallen in slow motion; after the eternity of one long second she was on her back, coughing as the wind was knocked out of her. Then it took several minutes to dig out her last foe—slitting her throat had only taken a second—and longer minutes still for her to bleed out and die.
Then a hovercraft whisks her away from the Arena faster than she could blink. But when it touches down and she disembarks in a stumble, the first person she sees is Cassian.
He looked as beautiful as anyone Jyn had ever known; time slows down in the beat of two seconds but she doesn’t even make it into his arms before she feels a prick and her vision suddenly tunnels out. But she still saw him, and when she sees him still in the strange, continual twilight the sedatives keep her under she’s comforted.
-
He’s there when she wakes up.
It takes a while for the disorientation to wear off, but when it does she realizes that the warmth in her left hand is his hand holding hers, gently. Her vision’s still blurry but she doesn’t need to wait for it to clear to know that it’s Cassian sitting next to her, just like she knew it was him that night on the roof. Aside from his genuine smile he looks so flawlessly styled—manufactured—as all things were in the Capitol. She had liked the scruff on his jawline and the stubble heading down his throat from when they had boarded the train, but after they arrived  Kay had personally made sure Cassian’s facial hair was meticulously groomed. Not a hair where it needn’t be.
She wonders how long it will take to grow back once they’re back in District 5. Back home in District 5…
“How are you feeling?” he asks.
“How long have I been out for?”
“Five days. The poison that Career used to paralyze you came from a muttation; they had to detoxify your blood and run a lot of tests to make sure that it was all gone. Now, how are you feeling?”
Jyn tries to answer, but the way Cassian is looking at her makes her feel a little floaty, a little warm; like maybe the sedatives haven’t fully worn off yet. But she does manage to say, “I’m feeling okay. Thank you. Really. For taking care of me in there.”
Cassian’s gaze softens to something less intense, but still profound. He looked at her the same way after their make-out session on the rooftop, so she isn’t surprised when he leans in to kiss her.
He has to prop one arm on the other side of the bed to steady himself as their lips meet. It’s soft, chaste; they meet again, and again, and then he leans in close to her ear.
“Do you remember our first kiss on the train?”
Of course she does. “I do; why?”
“Can you pretend like that for me again? Once we’re out of here?”
It’s said like a flirt, but his words snap Jyn back to full awareness of their situation: she has just won the 70th Hunger Games. She had been resting and unconscious for the past few days but once she’s discharged Kay and the prep team are going to prepare her for the Closing Ceremony. To be paraded in front of the Capitol on Panem’s national broadcast as the newest victor, with her stylist, prep team, escort, and mentor. And then she will be crowned by President Snow.
Her mind flits over all of their conversations. Are they in trouble? They had talked about treasonous things, but that was under the sound of a thousand tinkling wind chimes; she’s sure that Cassian wouldn’t have brought her there for a private talk to be eavesdropped on.
Or by ‘pretend’, does he mean how they faked a passionate moment to deflect suspicion?
That must be it; she can read in his face the plea for her to understand. With him this close to her, she notices there’s a tension to his body that belies the playfulness of his words.
Jyn nods before reaching to pull him closer to her and kiss him again. For now she wants to ease his worry; Cassian will tell her in due time, and then they can face it together. After the last two weeks Jyn is confident they can.
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glimmerglanger · 4 years
Text
Whumptober 2020 - Day 27
SO CLOSE SO CLOSE. Another short one today. Then three longer ones to bring us to the end (since I got confirmation that doing two prompts in one day was alright). Written for:
No 13. BREATHE IN BREATHE OUT 
Delayed Drowning | Chemical Pneumonia | Oxygen Mask
Anidala (but all background), set during the Clone Wars, after the Blue Shadow incident. (It being a chemical weapon and not a virus for the purpose of this fic). Time to whump Padmé a bit.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Padmé failed to notice, at first, that anything was wrong. She felt better near immediately, after receiving the treatment for the Blue Shadow poison. The lethargy and pain had disappeared, and she’d assumed that the other effects of the disease were wiped away, as well. 
She’d noticed some tightness in her chest, even after the medics released her, but her chest always felt a little tight and strange around Anakin. He always made her heart beat faster, always shortened her breath, especially when they had the chance to be alone together.
She didn’t think anything about it, even after Anakin left. She had other matters that demanded her attention. Her duties kept her busy on Naboo and all the way back to Coruscant, where a dozen additional problems arose in the Senate.
She felt a bit breathless, over the coming days, and had a dizzy spell once or twice. She dismissed the issues. Obviously, she wasn’t getting enough sleep. It was so hard to find the time, and, anyway, they were not living in restful times.
#
The coughing started a few days after Padmé arrived back on Coruscant. It was minor, at first. Certainly, it was non-productive, a dry cough that came and went. She ignored it, at first, because a minor cold was hardly important, really, compared with everything else.
But her chest got tighter with each coughing fit, and each one grew longer.
“I do think you should visit a medic,” 3PO told her, after she called out for water, waking up choking and bent over, a hand fisted in the front of her nightgown, because for a moment she had not been able to breathe.
She shook her head, after downing the water. It eased the urge to cough, at least for the moment.
“Perhaps tomorrow,” she said, smiling up at the droid. “The Chancellor has asked me to personally look to the newest missive from Mandalore.” There  was so much to do, and she couldn’t allow a coughing fit or a dozen to disrupt her schedule, not with the Chancellor counting on her.
#
Padmé meant to visit a medic, over the days that followed. She truly did, but she’d never seen so much work come through the Senate, and so much of it seemed vitally important. So much dealt with the troops at the front; one wrong decision, or meeting missed, would cost lives.
Anakin, she thought, her chest aching and tight, was out there, somewhere. She could not grab a blaster and take off to find him. Not the way she had when they’d only just met one another again, after so long apart.
Her only chances to help him were in the Senate chamber, in endless documents and pleasant meetings below Coruscant’s blue and perfect sky. And so she ignored the shortness of her breath, the coughing, and her inability to sleep.
Most colds only ran for a week or two. It had been nearly that long.
Surely, she’d recover soon. She could wait it out.
#
“Senator Amidala?” a soft voice asked. Padmé blinked and groaned, because her head felt thick and...sticky, on the inside. She could not remember, for a long moment, where she was, and pushed up, the familiar sight of her desk bringing back her memories.
She’d been working on a missive to the current Queen, back on Naboo. She did not recall falling asleep, she did not--
“Are you feeling alright?” 
Padmé blinked, looking over and registering, for the first time, that Senator Chuchi was standing beside her chair, a look of concern in her bright eyes. Padmé’s head swam, unpleasantly. She said, her voice a rasp, “Of course. I’m sorry, did I miss our meeting?” That wasn’t possible, of course. The meeting wasn’t until after the evening meal, hours and hours away.
“Yes,” Chuchi said, a worried frown settling onto her mouth. She said, “I’m sorry to say so, Senator, but I don’t think you’re well.”
Padmé mustered a smile, shaking her head and making to stand. “I assure you,” she said, “I’m fine. We can--” And her knees chose that moment to decide they weren’t going to work anymore. She heard Chuchi cry out, concerned, from somewhere far away, trying to catch her on her way to the ground, yelling out for help.
“Really,” Padmé said, dizzy and aware she’d started shivering, but having trouble getting enough breath to steady her hands, “it’s nothing.”
#
The medics disagreed that Padmé was fine. Viciously. She found out how much they disagreed after she woke up in a very nice, private room, with a mask fitted over the bottom half of her face and tubes stuck in her arms.
The medics offered her padds and explanations of what had happened to her, pictures taken of the inside of her chest. Her lungs were clouded, almost completely. “It’s strange,” a medic told her, shaking his head, “we’ve found no trace of a bacterial infection, or--”
“It won’t be bacteria,” she said, her voice a strange rasp. She had to speak slowly, sipping at the air, the oxygen they were providing her. It kept the light-headed feeling away. “I was exposed to an engineered biological weapon, not long ago.”
And the doctor listened to her explanation, making notes as she spoke. He frowned at his notes after she finished, tapping a finger against them, and said, finally, “Well, these chemicals played merry havoc with your lungs.”
“I understand,” she said, smiling with as much strength as she could. “And I appreciate your help, but I really need to get back to work and--”
“Oh, no,” he said, shaking his head. “Definitely not, Senator. Maybe if you’d come to us earlier. But you’re going to need to stay off of your feet for a while.”
She kept her smile in place. “I’m afraid that’s not possible, it’s--”
“Senator,” he cut in, softly, his mouth twisting. “If we don’t handle this, now, it could cause permanent damage. You need to just trust us, for a little while.”
#
The doctors refused to release Padmé for almost a week. By the time they did, her chest still hurt. She could not breathe down into the bottom of her lungs, but it got a bit easier, each day. 3PO asked her, each time she had to stop and catch herself against a wall, if she wanted him to contact Anakin. 
She told him no, each and every time.
Anakin had enough on his mind, out there on the front, without worrying about her. And she was getting better, every day, anyway.
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