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here2bbtstrash · 2 years

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okay LDOMLT LATEST CHEP let’s fucking go

• You’re embarrassed to admit that it never even occurred to you that Min Yoongi might be a person with a past and a hometown and stories to tell. how insensitive of you to say that!!! 😭

• it’s just been the intial hours of morning and we are already snapping at people! poor woman…..

• Universal jokes!!! cosmic coincidences !!! all things fav

• whoa whoa whoa we are laughing together ????? where is my LDOMLT COUPLE AND WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU DO WITH THEM!!!

• whoa whoa whoa now we are defending prod asshole wow! character development go brrrrrr!

• Your stomach twists with a feeling that you imagine must be similar to having just kicked a puppy. i am gonna file a petition to Free JK from this K drama

• He frowns at it, then up at you, like he can’t quite figure out what’s happening. SAME I AM YOONGI FROWNING AT MY SCREEN WONDERING IF I AM ACTUALLY READING LDOMLT

• It’s maple,” he says as you slowly pick it up and investigate the contents. It’s still warm. “I asked for the most disgustingly sweet thing they had.” awwww look at them, it’s my fav emotionally dense couple flirting

• Jimin glances up at the ceiling, as if asking for strength YOU AND ME BOTH MOCHI, YOU AND ME BOTH

• DENIAL DENIAL DENIAL DENIAL DENIAL

• “I’m gonna go fuck him,” oh???? did i speak too soon !!!

• nothing can be normal with you idiots . i’m giggling wow

• “If • DENIAL DENIAL DENIAL DENIAL DENIAL

• “I’m gonna go fuck him,” oh???? did i speak too soon !!!

• nothing can be normal with you idiots . i’m giggling wow

• “If you’re really calling me begging to get fucked, the least I can do is provide the transportation. Just send me your location.” there’s my dear prod asshole, stop switching your personality will you, i’m having whiplash will all the character development!!!

• “It’s funny. I always feel like I have to do better, even now. I get obsessed with work because it’s better than being depressed. And most of the time it feels like there’s nothing else to do anyway. I just work myself to death because it’s my only reason to stay alive.” and i can see how personal this piece of chapter might be to you, really. i hope you’re doing well :’)

• ahh so now the darkest part are finally surfacing!! very cathartic and very beautiful written!!!

• Well fuck !! i did not expect that! the ground slipped from beneath my feet for a second! what the fuck (at yoongi admitting he was suicidal)

• finally we are fucking in a private place jesus

• oh my god oh my god oh my god oh my god oh my god oh my god

• M why you making these bunnies fuck without protection oh god

• I guess neither of us realized who we were dealing with.” YOU, JUNGKOOK,M and readers!! all of us 😂😂😂😂 I LOVE THAT FUCKING LINE

• SHIT I’ve to be somewhere and there’s still a significant part left it seems fuccccckkkkkkl

• Yoongi is a fucking sight when he leans back to look up at you: long hair falling in his face, eyes dark with lust!! reminds me of his recent ethereal insta post with messy hair and droopy gaze!!

• “I miss your cock,” you whine, fucked close enough to be shameless. who the fuck are you and what the fuck have you done with LDOMLT READER

• i would have woken him up and asked why he slept outside on the couch in his own house but hey that’s just me 🥹

• damn the slap to JK( yes i’m calling it a slap because it was worse than that) idk who to feel bad about it here tho😭 i mean She’s right for saying how this isn’t JK’s business really, if this was Jimin we were talking about may be we could have let that pass. And he is not even being subtle about it, it’s worse to just let it simmer like this under the pretence of friendship than ask directly if you’re interested but he’s also like a lost puppy 😭😭😭oh god

• Oh my my my we are finally going to LA, ngl i was so impatient when you had mentioned earlier how there’s still one chep left before grammys but after going through this it really feels necessary and the most important for character development.

aaaaaaaaa what an emotional whirlwind this was and so much worth the wait!! as i’ve said repeatedly i love how layered characters in your storyline’s are. and with the usual scenario it’s either one of them really fucked up and the other being the saviour! which isn’t the case usually when we talk about something real! but here, they both are scratching the past trauma , at least they’ve started to. it will be worthwhile to witness the journey.

thank you for your hard work :)

i apologise if this has gotten too long for you read although i know you love long ass messages :’)

p.s. i’m streaming astronaut and so should everyone! okbye

YES Y'ALL BETTER BE STREAMING 🔫🔫🔫

EMOTIONAL WHIRLWIND INDEEEEEED okay let's get it!!!! 🤪

LOL listen.... it's easy to imagine people simply and hard to imagine them complexly 🥲 especially when the person is an asshole and makes your life miserable!!! she is learning from her mistakes..... growth???? probably too soon to call it that lmfao

CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT GO BRRRRR 💀 i know i know!!!! the ice is thawing and nobody was ready for it!!!! least of all these two dummies 🙄

wahhhhh honestly like 80% of what yoongi and reader discuss came from me and the ugly parts of my soul 🤣 it was very cathartic to get it out in this way, and it means a lot that other people are relating to it or can see the honesty in it 🙇‍♀️

sdfkhjsfsdf listen!!! with the way they've been going at it running out of condoms was a thing that had to happen eventually 🤭 did it just so happen to occur at a time when the feelings are overflowing and it quite LITERALLY forced them to slow down and start to put some pieces together 👀 idk...... 🏃‍♀️

asking him why he slept on the couch hmmm..... sounds like straightforward honest communication 🫠 we don't do that here 🫠

i appreciate you seeing both sides of the jungkook thing 🥺 i know a lot of people are upset with her delivery and i don't disagree, girl was MEANNNNN. but!!!! he's also clearly been carrying this torch despite multiple conversations where she expressly stated they were just friends and nothing more. that's not exactly fair to her either, and then on top of that to try and tell her what to do when it's at least partially selfishly motivated by his own feelings.... that's not nothing!!!! so yes he got a verbal slap 💀 and yes i still feel bad about it heuigdhkjdgglj baby starrrrrr i'm sorryyyyyyy 🥺

it's true they had a lot growing to do before the grammys!!!! and now who knows wtf is gonna happen 😵‍💫 i also appreciate you mentioning that there is no "hero" here, they are both deeply fucked up and are only now starting to recognize it in each other and see that commonality 💜 it's definitely making their perspectives shift!!!

thank youuuuu for reading!!!! and never apologize for long feedback because I LIVE FOR IT 👹

#anonymous #mbox 📮#fic review #look down on me like that #LDOMLT spoilers #queue what you want ㄱ -ㅅ-ㄱ

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rainydawgradioblog · 2 years

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Classic Album Review From the Vault: Parsley, Sage, Rosemary & Thyme by Simon and Garfunkel

This is a review I published on RateYourMusic about a year ago, but I think it's worth writing here as well.

Part of me wants to say that this album is just so precious, even pretentious. Something about the way Paul Simon writes feels like it was designed specifically for English teachers, full of imagery that is "poetic" in a very traditional, 19th-century sense. It's not the ornate odyssey of Joanna Newsom, nor the equally transportive surrealism of his contemporary Dylan (who he parodies on this album), but instead it's very structured, narrative, and sentimental--for those who think Dylan is too much of a rebel to the English Language, Simon and Garfunkel are here to restore order.

This sounds like something I would absolutely despise, or at least struggle to enjoy as a young person in 2021, but the remarkable thing is that it works. The only song that feels genuinely pretentious is "The Dangling Conversation", and that seems intentional--after all, isn't this song about someone so steeped in "intellectual" pursuits that they've lost emotional connection? The rest of the songs here are less dense, yet far more emotionally impactful. The opener is perhaps the most-discussed, and though I don't find it one of the strongest, its understated wintery echo is iconic, and Simon's second vocal line is as affecting as World War I poetry. There's also a few brief moments of cluster chord multi-tracked harmonies, which always sounded like they prefigured some similar sounds on The Glow Pt. 2.

Musically, the rest of the album shows an expansion of sound from their debut and The Sounds of Silence, such as on the second track, which is perhaps the most psychedelic on the album. I always thought that Simon's vocal melody sounded like a flute with a slightly "exotic" quality. However, his future fascination with regional music is nowhere else to be found on this album, and I would personally chock this song up more to the burgeoning psychedelic movement than a conscious attempt to incorporate a foreign sound. However, the duo is at their best when they stick to their "traditional" folk-pop-rock sound, which on more than one track has an almost jazzy lightness to it. "Cloudy" is heavily atmospheric with its bells, delicate guitar picking, and distant hints of organ, genuinely feeling like an overcast day somewhere in the hills. There's a brief hint of darkness with the diminished chord on the "sometimes I think it's hanging down on me" line. The same cannot be said for "The 59th Street Bridge Song", which is a pure blast of joy. Its also one of the shortest on the album, which is fitting, considering that in Simon & Garfunkel-land, one cannot go far without encountering a heaping dose of melancholy.

"Melancholy" is the perfect word for most of the second half, which features the aforementioned "Dangling Conversation" and the far superior "Flowers Never Bend with the Rainfall", a song about the nature of existence with a chorus about denying mortality in a way almost as absurd as Jason Isbell on "If We Were Vampires". To balance these out, the album also features two songs which satirize popular culture in a way that could only be described as 1966 incarnate: first with "The Big Bright Green Pleasure Machine", which has strong, funny verses, but a somewhat uninspired chorus (though this may be the point), and secondly with the significantly stronger "A Simple Desultory Philippic" (Or How I Was Robert McNarmar'd Into Submission), which has a surprisingly energetic backing and lyrics which make fun of the pop-culture addled youth, though today, you could argue that it acts more as a time capsule than a relevant comedy song.

Following "Philippic" are the two strongest songs on the entire album. First comes the ethereal "For Emily, Whenever I May Find Her", a song as comforting, sentimental, yet ephemeral as can be imagined. The lyricism is once again somewhat pretentious, but so romantic that I can't help but be moved. Garfunkel's vocal performance is absolutely perfect, wispy in the way only he can be, yet building to one of the most passionate lines I've ever heard with "your cheeks flushed in the night". The only flaw in the entire song is the very end--after such evocative lyricism, "I love you girl" is a bit of a weak closing statement, almost as if the inherent beauty of the song was unable to carry the romantic sentiment. It doesn't come nearly close to breaking the spell of the song though. This was one of my late grandmother's favorite songs, and though I'll always remember it fondly, the final verse's reassurance will always be left in a mythical past for me.

The follow-up "Poem on the Underground Wall" is just as great, and is perhaps the best argument that Simon's pretension was a boon to the group. Here he renders what would otherwise be an uninteresting sight--someone graffitiing a curse word on a subway wall (or perhaps "love"; it's left vague)--as a religious experience. The lyric "and he holds his crayon rosary" is given a perfect 5th harmonization, which only amplifies this spirituality by pulling directly from the most primal church music in the Western tradition. The melody and vocal performance are impassioned the way a traditional folk ballad might be, and of course, the intro humming creates a stronger sense of atmosphere than any studio theatrics. (Between this and Brian Eno's "By This River", I think that two-part humming might be the most simple yet underutilized musical technique in popular music.)

To close out the album, there is a cover of "Silent Night" mixed with a collage of news broadcasts from 1966. Like with "A Simple Desultory Philippic", it instantly dates the song, but considering that all of the events mentioned are still discussed today, it still has historical value. Even more affectingly, since many of these songs have aged very well due to inspiring folk rock and indie artists of future generations, this track feels far more alive in the context on the album, perhaps illuminating how it must have felt to live through those now-historic events and how similar the human spirit of the past is with that of today. To all the people who say this is a weak closer, I could not disagree more.

This is not a perfect album, and no one would deny that it has dated heavily in its cultural references. However, the most resonant songs astound to this day, and as a complete package, it is Simon and Garfunkel's most consistent and best album overall. Highly recommended for those over 65, though you've likely heard it already. Us young people should give it a listen too.

-Stefan

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existentialmagazine · 14 days

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Review: Izzy Pingrey ‘roots’

At just seventeen, the rising indie artist Izzy Pingrey has been slowly but surely taking over her current residence of New York City, delivering music that always resonates with her young adult audience. With a sound that feels a little like Taylor Swift, Phoebe Bridgers and Olivia Rodrigo but wrapped into slow, acoustic based indie-pop, she’s already carved out a completely identifiable sound of her own - and with every new release, she only seems to get better.

Her newest release ‘roots’ is the perfect embodiment of soft but catchy, slotting right into her discography like it’s always been a glowing part of it. Through a more laid-back bedroom-pop ease and indie-pop vibrancy, Izzy transports you to a place that’s filled with taking your time, letting yourself live in the moment that often finds itself slipping away too quickly to appreciate. The dreamy electric guitar riff is the reason it’s allowed such tranquility, gentle echoey notes that create such a little experience of dreamlike escapism. Steady drums flow through the verse too, simple but intentional, keeping you hooked on the smoothness of the sound. Izzy’s vocals are just as integral to the sound with such a limited palette of instruments, clean and airily gliding through a light range, a performance that’s enchanting and comforting all in one.

The chorus only picks up a slightly, shifting the staple guitar riff into something a little less slow, all the while the tumbling beats also change their course. Both rise in volume too, a more impactful moment filled with volume and a more consuming sound, still just as ethereal as ever but a little more noticeable. Izzy’s vocals are a bit more bold too, carried by haunting backing vocals on her every line and she is unafraid to cascade into higher ranged little runs and low-toned, rich admissions. It falls somewhere between aching and easy, a mix of emotions hard to pool into one but Izzy has nailed it perfectly, delivering that sense of nostalgia and appreciation that often slips through our fingers when we focus too hard.

It’s no surprise that the sound evokes such feelings either, when ‘roots’ itself plays out as a bittersweet love letter to Izzy’s younger self, working through the changes that adulthood brings. From the opening line ‘you wrote me a letter… delivered to me when I was seventeen’, Izzy places some distance between the person she was and is now, referring to herself as ‘you’ in perhaps a revealing nod to the fact she’s someone completely changed. Some things stay the same though, running through past and future as she admits ‘I still bite my nails’ , as well as ‘got a new dog and a new boyfriend, but my nose looks just like it did when I was twelve.’ Every line seems to flicker between what was and what is, but Izzy always keeps herself grounded in those details that can never be changed, honouring her younger self and in many ways yearning for that childhood experience once again. The chorus is interesting, delivering the hooks that ‘my hair used to be so long, cut it off’ and ‘I went blonde, but you’re coming in with my roots’ , showing that the ‘roots’ in this nature are a little double-edged. From the roots of her hair that connote change, to the real-life roots she’s placed throughout her existence, ‘roots’ shines for its authenticity.

There’s a lot to love and unpack through ‘roots’ , and it’s well worth doing it for yourself, along with everything Izzy’s shared. If you’re finding yourself relating to Izzy’s reflections or perhaps just soothed by her sweet sound, don’t forget to keep listening here.

Written by: Tatiana Whybrow

Photo Credits: Unknown

// This coverage was supported and created via Musosoup, #SustainableCurator.

#tatiana

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calenheart01 · 4 months

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Wings by R + F

So Sorry for the late post been busy and kinda forgot about it but here is Chapter 6 as well as Chapter 7.

Chapter 6

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Dark clouds gather in my subconscious as I sleep. They clump together, pulling the light from my dreams. I look up within the dream, muttering a small comment of rain. The clouds roll over each other in a swirl of motion. They twist and turn in the sky like waves in a storm. The color drains from my surroundings and I forget whatever dream I had been in the middle of as everything turned gray.

It was going to storm soon. You could smell it in the air. However, this storm was different than just a cloud crossing the land. It was growing, gathering the winds and rains from the Earth. It was preparing, hiding somewhere deep in the skies. A bad omen.

A clap of thunder startles me awake.

“Good afternoon.”

Jumping to my feet, I face a girl. She was standing at my bedside when I woke and now, I was at arm’s length with her.

Blue. It was the first thing I thought, seeing her eyes. Her eyes reminded me of someone else I knew, but the girl was unfamiliar to me. Her blonde braid lays on her shoulder, loose strands falling out from it. She is shorter than me, a little above my shoulders, with a simple loose white long-sleeve blouse and a brown corset. Her matching brown boots added a couple inches of height. Commoner’s dress, really.

“Um, hello.” I look around the room, taking note of the stacked bookshelves that were neatly displaying the spines of stories from across the land. Above me, tapestries hung down. They sag slightly in the middle and weave together like a quilt, covering the ceiling above. “Where am I?” I ask, unable to recall how I got here.

“My house,” she responds, “Jasper brought you early this morning. Good thing too. These storms are the worst they have been in months. The Gods must be in some sort of turmoil, sending the storm bearers out.”

I look at her quizzically. Jasper. That’s right, that was the name of the odd young boy who I met last night. He was so ethereal that I was sure he was a dream. Something about him seemed almost inhuman.

The girl in front of me tilts her head. “Jasper told me you are the princess.”

I stiffen. “Oh, that’s correct.” I glance down at my nightwear. “I am sure I do not look the part. I apologize for being so impolite, had I known I would have been… out, I would have dressed appropriately.” I pick at the fabric of my long gown, it was muddy, damp to the touch and held a slight musty smell.

The scent contrasted with the smell of the room. I inhale. Sweet, bakery-like warmth fills the room. It smells of food- and tasty food at that. Involuntarily, my stomach growls. Of course, I would be hungry now, why wouldn’t I be? I had not eaten since last night.

“Are you hungry?” The girl questions and I nod.

As the girl wanders off, I sit back down on the bed. Staring outside of the window at the rain, I notice the kingdom far in the distance. I must be in the outlands. The Outlands homed all the grand estates of the noble families as well as the great farms of the kingdom’s farmers.

Emmy was born from farmers in this area. She was the main transporter of goods from her family’s farm to the castle. That was how I met her. She brought food and I would run out to greet her. We quickly became friends, so when her family farm failed during a drought, I invited her to work for me. My heart aches, thinking of the “what ifs.” What if she did not make it out? Where was she? Would I be able to find her if I go back to the castle?

Thunderclaps outside again and a heavy rain hits the windows of the room, causing me to jump.

“Princess? Food is on the table.” The blonde girl’s voice calls from somewhere else in the house.

I stand, regaining composure. There was no way that Emmy wouldn’t be safe. She is likely worried sick about me. I shake off the nervous thoughts and begin walking through the house towards the warmth and sweet smells. I hurry down the steps of the home, to the ground floor. How the girl and Jasper managed to get me upstairs to the bedroom last night is beyond me, but I was thankful for the shelter.

Peeking my head around the corner of the walled-off stairway, I see the kitchen. It is a humble setting with few shelves, herbaceous plants, and a stone brick stove. A fire was burning in the stove, warming the room to a comfortable temperature. In the corner of the room, a stout table sat. On the surface was a colorful spread of food. Fruits, vegetables, cakes, meats, and much more.

“Wow… Did you make all this food?” I ask, wandering further into the room.

The girl looks up from where she sat at the table. “No. My father did, he loves to cook.”

I look around for her father in the kitchen, but no one else was present.

The girl, noticing my search, pats the seat next to her. “He is off greeting some… other, unexpected arrivals.” She nods to the door on the far side of the kitchen.

I listen a moment. The fire crackles in the stove, nearly drowning out the voices on the other side of the door. “Other people are here?”

She nods, heavily sighing. “My cousin and his father.” She reached for a piece of fruit on the table and hands it to me. “They are insufferable. They always arrive without any warning or notice. Then, they just criticize and critique every bit of my father’s life.” She groans, folding her arms on the tabletop.

“They don’t sound like great people…” I sympathize with her, accepting the fruit and chewing on it. I look back to the girl. Blue. Her eyes were exceedingly familiar. “I never got your name,” I inquire, hoping that I may recognize her from a name.

The girl unfolds her arms and starts to speak. Then the door to the kitchen flings open, slamming against the interior of the room. “Casey Mabiella!” A man marches into the kitchen with us.

The voice alone sends vibrations into my soul, not to mention the freezing horror at the recognition of her last name. Mabiella.

I look behind the man, hoping Casey’s uncle and cousin were not trailing after. It is just my luck, however. Two forms enter the room, shaking the rain from their clothes. Their entrance invites the coldness of the storm into the warmth of the room. The men exchange few words and then one of them makes eye contact with me.

Blue. I am glued to my seat. Fear-stricken, embarrassed, and full of denial. No way.

“Princess?” Casey’s voice calls next to me like a sudden strike of lightning.

“You did not mention the princess was here.” Casey’s uncle curses her father. “I could have had my son looking more proper…” Then the man looks at me. “By the Gods girl, what happened to you?”

“Lord Killian, I- Have you not heard?” I interrupt myself, hiding away from view behind the table.

“Heard what? Whatever are you referring to?”

I open my mouth to speak but the gaze of Killian’s son distracts me. “I um…” How lucky it was for me to have stumbled into the one person I needed least: Cassian Mabiella, my betrothed.

“Well?” Killian waits for an answer, hanging his black cloak on the hangers by the door as Cassian removes his boots. Both of their eyes are on me.

Closing my eyes, I swallow my pride. Dressed in nothing but the nightgown I wore to bed last night, I explain the horrendous events that unfolded at the palace.

“My word.” Killian expresses in shock with his brother matching his expression closely behind. “Osiris, why haven’t you gotten the princess more proper attire? The princess should not be seen in public like this.” Killian eyes his son, who continues to stare at me.

Casey cuts off her uncle, noticing my discomfort. “Cassian, staring is rude.”

Cassian rolls his eyes at his cousin. “I apologize, princess. I just have never seen you so… dressed down.”

Cassian was always one for looks, something that Emmy despised him for- among many other things. I look down, embarrassed. It was not my fault I was in my sleepwear, with no make-up, and no hairbrush. Speaking of hairbrushes, I spare a quick thought to the one I threw at my pursuers back within my parent’s room. I smile at the ground, knowing I could hurt the man’s pride with something so small.

Killian shoves his son. “Be polite, Cassian.” He hisses. Then he speaks in a lower tone, “else you lose favor with her family, and more importantly the king.”

I look back to Killian, he had spoken so quietly, he must have thought I could not hear. No surprise here, of course. I always have known why Lord Killian was so set on Cassian and I’s marriage. It would be an excellent boost to the Mabiella house’s ego, which is unnecessary considering the considerable size of their current ego.

Osiris then processes what his brother had implied earlier and urges Casey to lend me one of the dresses from the workshop. I am then dragged away by Casey to an adjacent room.

She stops me behind a rack of cloth. The room itself was colorful and lively. More plants grew at the bases of the windows and beneath them were tables. The tables lined the walls, covered in fabrics with every pattern imaginable. Equipment is scattered throughout the room, including several mannequins wearing different clothing styles.

“You make dresses?” I inquire, surprised.

“My father does, along with other clothes.”

This adds to my surprise. “Interesting. I never knew this side of Cassian’s family.”

Casey approaches me with a lightly colored dress. It was more casual than the dresses I was accustomed to, but it was a welcome change. She hands me the dress with an apologetic smile.

“I should have warned you, but it somehow slipped my mind that you and Cassian were betrothed. I tend not to think of him, although my uncle does brag about his son’s betrothal to you quite often.” She moves to the other side of the room to find me some comfortable shoes and I begin to change behind the rack of cloth.

“I can understand why you do not think of him. I wish I did not have to. However, because he will one day be my… lawfully wedded husband, it is not like I can avoid it.” I pause to ponder a moment.

“You and your cousin are nearly opposites; it is amazing you two are even related.”

“Trust me, if I could help change your fate, I would.”

I laugh a bit at her use of the word fate as I finish adjusting the brand-new dress onto me. How I wish customs could alter to include the second-born on the inheritance. Caelum could choose his own bride, control the kingdom, and keep the Mabiella’s greedy hands off the throne. Of course, I do not mean all the Mabiella family are greedy. Casey is proving against that thought by just lending me clothes and feeding me.

I step out from behind the cloth rack and present myself in the workshop’s full-length mirror that leaned against the wall across the room. The dress was light pink with golden accents of flowers and leaves on the bodice. The skirt was down to my ankles, but light and airy. It was easy to move in and yet, elegant. It was far different than the dresses in my closet. I suppose Casey was going for something that I can be seen in when I’m in public, but nothing too noticeable.

“This dress is lovely, thank you.” I mention as Casey plops a pair of white shoes beside my feet. She then hands me a hairbrush.

“I should have done this earlier to avoid the scolding from Killian,” She murmurs.

I fix my hair, finding that somehow the river water had rinsed away. I look at the brush, confused how my hair had turned so clean and soft.

Casey giggles a bit. “Oh, my father uses that to brush the wigs we have for the store. It has some special properties to make the hair perfect. Don’t ask me how, I think he may have infused it with some of his own magic.”

I nod, in awe of the magical item. My father never trusted any magic, said it could corrupt you. Consequently, I never had anything magical, aside from my own powers. I hand the brush back to Casey reluctantly and put on my new shoes.

We meet everyone back out in the kitchen to eat. Osiris sits at the head of the table, Casey to his right and his brother to his left. Cassian and I sit across from each other at the other end of the table. It was Killian’s insistence that I sit close to Cassian since we are soon to be married in the coming years. Regrettably, this is something I will have to become accustomed to. Me and Cassian.

Osiris fixes everyone’s plate and distributes the food among us as he tries to make conversation.

“Casey, your uncle and I have matters to attend to tomorrow in town. Especially considering recent events.” I feel eyes on me at the last comment and I look up to meet Osiris’ eyes. His gaze holds concern, as if asking if I am well.

I nod to him, and he continues. I look down at my food, not wanting to meet Cassian or Killian’s stares. What they must think of me… My thoughts dance between the gossip that could erupt within the noble circle if Cassian mentions having seen me in my nightdress. It should not be a huge problem, but, with the upper class, there has always been a sense of required purity between Cassian and me. I was always the center of attention, always the role model for the noble girls. It could hurt my image. Not that I care that much, but my family would have a fit.

Killian would use it as fuel to the marriage fire. The princess in nightwear! Gasp! As if it was the end of the world to see me in anything but a thick, suffocating dress. Anyone else in their night clothes would be fine- but the princess? That gossip between the noble ladies may well overshadow the fact that I was kidnapped from my home.

“Princess? Are you listening?” Killian asks a bit louder than needed to get my attention.

I look up apologetically. “Apologies, I was deep in thought.”

Killian huffs, adjusting the collar of his pure white noble wear. “I want you and Cassian to attend the next ball together after this affair with the kidnappers is over.”

I must’ve shown the shock I felt on my face, because Killian gives me a weird look.

Cassian coughs at the suggestion. “I don’t believe that is quite relevant yet.”

I agree with Cassian for the first time ever, but I do not voice it.

“Oh please. This business will blow over, what is the royal life with a little drama and empty threats.” Killian waves off his son.

“Drama? Empty threats?” I scoff aloud. “I watched that man kick the dead bodies of the soldiers that guarded the palace. A majority of whom, he slayed himself. He is no joke, and he is definitely no empty threat. All of them are threats. If you continue to disrespect the dead by calling this traumatic

experience “drama,” then I am afraid I must go.” I stand to walk off, but Casey takes my hand.

“Princess, have care to how you speak to me. One day I will be your father-in-law.” Killian retorts with an aggressive edge.

“I see nothing wrong with what I said.” Anger boils within me. Who does he think he is? Blatantly disrespecting the dead, blowing my concerns off as mere drama? I am sure if my father were present, Lord Killian would not be so blunt with his intentions. Maybe if the king were here, Killian would show the slightest bit of sympathy for the situation. I had known most my life that his only goal was the throne, and now that Cassian and I are betrothed, it is as if Killian already sees himself king and therefore above me. I bite back the urge to tell him off further, to remind him that Cassian would be king, not him.

I sit back down at the urging squeeze of Casey’s hand.

I look away from Killian, unable to stand his greedy face any longer, and I make eye contact with Cassian. He looks a slight bit apologetic.

“Father, the princess could well need some time to recover from this. It is not everyday someone kidnaps you.” Cassian sides with me.

“Right.” Killian has a complicated look cross his face. “My apologies, princess. I am worried about the kingdom’s future and forgot to see the present.”

I nod, not responding aloud. I meet Cassian’s eyes again. I mouth a thank you and he sighs, turning his attention elsewhere. Suddenly disinterested, he pokes at the last bite of food on his plate before excusing himself.

Osiris does the same, wanting to spend the rest of the evening finishing a tailoring job for a wealthy woman in town.

It was awkward. Sitting with my future father-in-law post-argument. I wanted to speak to Casey, but I feared Killian would take it as me ignoring him. Better to have him say the first words, anyway.

Luckily, he does speak. “I will host the ball, princess. No expenses will be spared and there, we can announce to the other kingdoms that you and Cassian are to be wedded.” The air itself grows heavy at the words, weighing down my heart.

I internally cringe. Marriage. It sounded too binding, too much of a shackle. The word itself felt more suffocating than the dresses I’m forced to wear to court with my father. “Thank you, Lord Killian.” I stand again. This time I was ready to go. “I am glad to have you host the ball.” Although I say this in the driest tone, he smiles.

Killian stands as well. “I will start plans. Thank you for agreeing to this.”

I nod again, curtsy, and leave to go back to the bedroom I had awoken in earlier. As I walk, I feel the rage build in me again. Typical of him to mention it again after Cassian left. It is as if he only will ever listen to men. Not to mention him flat-out thanking me for agreeing, I just wanted out of that room. Sometimes I wonder that if my father had been a woman, would Killian have tried to slide into the role as king sooner? I shiver. It was always clear that the only thing holding him back from trying to marry me was his family and my age. It was gross. What a sleazy man.

I enter the bedroom again and find Cassian lounging on the bed. I instantly turn to leave, but he has already seen me.

“Oh, sorry. I forgot that the guest room was in use by someone else. I can go sleep downstairs.” He stands, albeit begrudgingly.

“No, you can stay, I’ll go. This must be where you sleep when you visit anyway. It’s what you’re used to.” I step backwards.

“Nonsense, the princess should have the best room in the house.” He sounds mocking and I frown.

“Trust me, I can sleep on the cot downstairs. You stay.”

“No thanks.” He shrugs.

“I wasn’t invited, the guest room should be for welcome guests.” I counter.

“I wasn’t invited either.”

“But you are family and there is only one guest room.”

“So?”

“So?!” I scoff. “You get the room.”

Cassian walks over to me, stopping just in front of me. “You should stay. If you keep insisting that I sleep here, then why not we share the bed? That would be fair, right?” He smirks.

My face grows hot. “You are insufferable.” I say, using Casey’s own words to insult him.

He shrugs.

“Why did you side with me at dinner?” I ask, changing the subject.

He shrugs again. “For once, I disagreed with him. Plus, you are a terrible dancer, you need all the practice time you can get before the ball.”

I scoff at his nerve. “Maybe I won’t dance with you at all then.”

His expression is unchanging as he shrugs once more. “Fine by me.”

Casey then enters the room with narrowed eyes. “Cassian…” Her voice is warning as she draws out his name.

“Casey.” Cassian says shortly.

“Who in the world said you can just wander into my home whenever you want? You do not live here.” Her words are bitter as she moves further into the room to adjust the sheets. She ignores how close Cassian is standing to me.

“My father was having a bit of a falling out with the Mrs. Mabiella.”

Casey huffs.

“Always the case. He always treats people however he wants.”

Cassian steps away from me, his attention turning on his cousin. “That is not my fault.”

“Oh no, but you have certainly inherited that trait from him.”

“Hey-!” Cassian curses to his cousin. “You are as impolite as ever.”

“Oh, look who is talking: Mr. I’m-going-to-be-a-king-one-day.” Casey argues. “You are insufferable.”

“Strange. That’s exactly how the princess described me earlier. Tell me, did you two gossip about me? Tell each other all of the ways in which I am “insufferable?”” Cassian’s expression hardens and his lips flatten into a tight line. Irritation slipped into his voice at the last of his words.

“Hey, is it still storming? I think I can go outside and let you two fight it out.” I interrupt.

Both cousins turn to me. Both of their blue eyes full of the fire of an argument. I fight the urge to slink back into the hallway. Cassian folds his arms.

“Princess, there are cots downstairs, if you would like to grab one for Cassian.” Casey asks as nicely as possible, but still with enough venom towards Cassian to indicate their argument would be far from over.

I nod and disappear to find a cot. When I get downstairs, Killian and Osiris are in the kitchen, discussing. I wait a bit, listening from behind the wall to the stairway.

“The princess is under your roof. That is a great deal of responsibility, brother.”

“Killian, I am only housing her until things get better and the criminals are caught by authorities. I understand the risks.” Osiris responds plainly.

“Let me take her back to my estate. She will be provided for and protected there, I swear to you, brother.” Killian explains.

“I know what you are trying to do, Killian.” Osiris says lowly. “Please leave the poor girl alone.”

“I know not of what you are speaking. I have the best intentions for our young princess.” His words dance around the truth purposefully.

“How are they to know she is here, anyway? Your estate may be a great next target. Afterall, you are soon to be father of the king and all.” Osiris’ words are serious and slow. They are bitter in the warm air.

“I could take the burden from your back, brother. I can keep her alive.”

“That is the very least you can do, Killian. She is no burden here; she is a guest. She arrived last night in need of help and that is what I promised. I have an especially important friend whose trust is wildly important in keeping. How will it appear if I just slack of the responsibility and promise to my elder brother?”

“Fine. Fine. Bring it up tomorrow to the princess, then we will see who she favors: Her future father-in-law or his younger brother.” His voice lightens when saying brother as if using it to insult Osiris.

“Tough choice…” Osiris says, and I decide to appear from around the corner.

“What’s a tough choice?” I play innocent, as if I had not eavesdrop.

“Oh, Princess! Sorry, we were just discussing about the cake flavors.” Killian lies and Osiris nods, an annoyed look still plain on his face.

“I prefer the lemon one personally, I love citrus fruits.” I reply forcing a smile.

Killian nods. “Of course. Good choice.”

In my mind I see him already add that to the wedding plans. “I was looking for a cot to bring to the guest room.”

Osiris perks up. “Oh, of course!” He leads me to where they were stored, and I bring a couple up to the guest room.

Casey and Cassian are not arguing anymore. A welcome silence fills the room as I lay the cots on the floor. Cassian frowns at the temporary bed.

“What’s that look for?” I question, immediately sorry for asking.

He looks at me. “Just a shame that you do not wish to share the bed with me.”

“Absolutely not!” Casey interjects. “You will not touch her, you weirdo.”

Cassian laughs. “I’m kidding. I was referencing a conversation from earlier.”

Casey looks at me quizzically. “Do I even want to know.”

I roll my eyes. “He’s just mocking me and the role of courting me.”

Casey throws a blanket and pillow on the cot and makes Cassian take it. Then she insists on sleeping on the other cot as a chaperone. She does not trust her cousin. I take the only real bed, despite my protests that I should also have a cot. I am glad to sleep in the bed, however; it is much more comfortable. When we are all under blankets and ready for sleep, I cannot seem to muster any sleepiness. I felt eyes on my back. I turn over to see Cassian, his eyes are open, but I cannot see his expression in the dark.

“Can’t sleep?” I ask mockingly and he tells me to shut up.

…

At some point I must have fallen asleep, because when I open my eyes, light is pouring in through the window. I sit up, Casey and Cassian are still sound asleep on their respective cots. I stare at Cassian a moment. For once, he seemed peaceful. No mocking. No loud arguments. His face was relaxed, blue eyes closed.

I stand carefully, not wanting to wake them, as I head outside to get water. I pull a bucket up from the well and carry it into the wash room just as someone else wakes up. I hear footsteps approach the wash room but they stop outside the door.

“Princess?” It’s Casey. I sigh in relief and pour the bucket into the sink.

“Come in, I’m just washing my face.”

Casey walks into the room and stretches. “Just checking on you. My father and uncle left early this morning.”

“I’m fine, thanks.” I say shortly and begin rinsing my face and neck. I use a spare rag to scrub dirt from my legs and arms.

Casey does the same and hums lightly while doing so. “I am sorry there was so much fighting.”

I tell her its fine and we go back upstairs to the guest room. Cassian is awake and changed by the time we get back. His cream white outfit was one I had seen him wear many times. It was always a wonder how it was never stained. He wore it today, looking brand new.

Casey and I had changed already into our outfits from yesterday. We were not new and shiny like Cassian. I preferred it that way.

We had leftovers from the night before for breakfast and then Casey and I watered the plants in the house. The morning air was heavy with humidity as we finished and moved to go work on the garden just outside the house.

I reach down, pulling a large squash from the vine, when I hear something in the woods that surrounded the house. I stand, alert. The squash in my hands was ready to defend.

Whatever it was, Casey heard it too. She paused her picking and looked around.

Just then, the sounds of footsteps make me jump, but it was just Cassian with a bucket of water. “Relax. Here.” He hands me the bucket and we water the plants that needed it. For now, the garden was in shade, but the sun was rising fast. We go inside after the chores and I sit at the table, laying my head on the wood of the tabletop.

“Aw. Too much work for poor princess.” Cassian mocks and sits next to me.

I resist the urge to shove him from the chair.

Casey has the same urge in her eyes but ignores him. We go on about, cleaning up the house a bit more. I step outside to get water enough for a bath but am frozen in place at the sight of someone in a dark uniform, heading towards me. My heart surges into my throat with panic and I shove my way back into the house, yelling at everyone to lock the doors before I realize what is happening. Casey is on her feet in an instant. Cassian takes a bit to process my panic.

“Please. They found me. I don’t know how but they did, and I need to run.”

“Woah, woah. It’s fine. Maybe they didn’t see you.” Cassian says and I shake my head.

“One of them was walking right to me from the wood line.” I push past Cassian and lock the door behind him.

“How do you know?”

“Because I have eyes, Cassian! Now let’s go!” I yell at him, and he looks a bit shocked.

Casey appears around the corner and pulls me by the hand into the kitchen. “We need to make it outside and fly.”

I nod and we head up the stairs to the bedroom. Cassian trails after us wordlessly. The windows are thrown open by Casey and she motions for me to jump. I nod to her, just as the sound of shattering aglass fills the house. Footsteps pour into the home, and I force Cassian and Casey out before me, ignoring their protests.

The footsteps make it to the stairs, and I jump after the cousins, just as my wing is caught by something. I look back. It was someone. Gray eyes. Blue hood. I scream, kicking away from them. I force him to let me go and I fly up to Casey and Cassian.

I give Cassian my best “I told you so” and we fly quickly away.

I cannot tell if they follow us as we dive beneath the cover of trees. We drop down onto the ground eventually and search for a path.

“We should head to my estate, it should be safe there. There’re guards and-,” Cassian starts but Casey cuts him off.

“We travel through the spirit woods and go to the nearest kingdom. Your estate is too obvious.”

I agree with her as we search for a path. I silently think to myself. I cannot believe I dragged Cassian Mabiella into this. By the Gods, I hope this adventure doesn’t mean I owe him anything. If only these people would stop chasing me.

#Newwriter #Zawa'sproblemwriter

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finelinevogue · 3 years

Note

What if a security guard wouldn’t let you back in the arena if you went out to get something. And they didn’t believe that you were harrys gf and just thought you were a crazy fan

oooh it’s been done before but here’s my version!! ;

You were running late.

It was already 7pm and you were only getting out of your car in the car park. Harry was due to be on stage in an hour and you hadn’t even seen him yet. The traffic around Dallas today has been awful. Chocker block. You’d been with Harry all day, up until 3 hours ago when he had to leave the hotel to come to the stadium for rehearsals. Normally you’d go with him, but you were so tired that you wanted a little nap before coming. The problem here was you overslept.

There were no Ubers available and a taxi would be far too expensive at this time, so you drive in Harrys car instead. You’d been following Harry on tour in his car, so when you get to different destinations you can go out on ball day trips if you want to without the obscenity of a huge tour bus or paying for Ubers everywhere. It was the main reason you were so tired though, travelling across country and into different time zones. It would be so much easier if this was the UK.

You grabbed your purse and your jacket, locking the car as you got out and started running for the backstage entrance. It was easy to make it there and you noticed security guards already standing there.

“Hi!” You smiled, slightly short of breathe. You were about to move past them when one of them shoved your shoulder back, making you stumble back unbalanced. “Wha—”

“ID and backstage pass to get through here.” One of them said, looking you up and down as if you were nothing.

If anything, you were quite shocked on how they just treated and continued to treat you. Normally, Harry would show a picture of you to these backstage security guards to make sure you’d be able to get in no problem, but it seemed like today Harry might’ve forgotten to show that photo. This was going to be a problem for you, because you’d forgotten to bring your backstage pass.

“I normally just go through? I’m Harry’s girlfriend.” You tried talking your way around the situation, not appreciating behind held up so close to show-time.

“Oh you’re Harry’s girlfriend? You must be the 7th one we’ve met tonight.” The security guy laughed and so did his friend, making your blood boil with how annoying they were being. Harry would be so pissed if he heard the way they were treating you.

“No but I actually am.”

“Then, ID and backstage passes.” One of then held out his hand whilst the other crossed his arms over his chest to make him look intimidating. Dickheads.

“I have ID just not the backstage passes.” You answered honestly, holding out your ID for them to check. They collected it and asked you questions on it, you answering them all perfectly.

“Well you definitely know you, but you have no proof you’re supposed to be where you claim to be.” They handed you back your ID and you huffed in stress.

“Well what can I show you? Photos of me and Harry together? Text messages?” You waved your arms around, getting really pissed off that this was actually happening. You’d probably miss Jenny’s whole set because of this and then 15 minutes before show-time Harry gets transported under the stage. So you only really would have half and hour with him, and that’s just not enough time. You wanted a safe and warm hug off him. You wanted a kiss. You just wanted him.

“Everyone knows they can be photoshopped.” One of the guys scoffs at your notion.

“Listen. You either show us your backstage pass or we’ll escort you off site.” The other one says a lot more firmer this time. It made you quite anxious for what you’d do if they did that - or maybe when they did that.

“Well I don’t have the backstage passes.” You sighed, rolling your eyes at the way this was going to end.

“Then let’s go.” One of them pointed to where you came from and to the car park, stepping forwards as he did so.

“I’m not leaving until you let me through those doors. My boyfriend is waiting for me.” You answered, taking a step back in stress of what they might do.

“Harry ain’t your boyfriend. Now let’s go!” They stepped forwards again and reached for you.

You swung your bag at one of them, hitting him in his side and he grunted because of the impact of your water bottle with his chest. The other one grabbed your arm and you couldn’t shake him, since you were not trained in any way for situations like this at all. His fingers dig into your skin and it made you scream out a cry, trying to kick him in any way to escape. The other one recovered ever ordered the guy holding you to escort you away whilst he stayed and guarded the door. The one holding you tugged your arms behind your body and held them tight there, it really fucking hurting. He didn’t care though and continued to walk you, asking you where your car was so he could get you out of here.

Once you reached your car he let you go and you wrapped your arms around you as he walked away again, not verbally saying anything but his eyes saying enough. Stay away. You shakily got your keys out of your bags and unlocked your door, climbing in and just sitting there. You could feel your hands really shaky and achy. Looking down with tear clouded eyes, you saw the red marks over your arms and slight bruising already. Your arms and shoulders hurt from being bent in an uncomfortable position.

You cared less about the pain though and how much of a disappointment of a girlfriend you were going to be to Harry. He was going to think either the worst for you or the worst of you. You reached in your bag on your lap for your phone, throwing your bag on the seat next to you afterwards. You wiped your eyes with the sleeve of your t-shirt and unlocked your phone to text messages, sending Harry a quick text.

To Harry: Are you free to call? x

No response. You sat there for a few minutes in silence, still shook up and teary. That had been a really awful situation to be in and you hated that you were nowhere near Harry to fix it. Your phone vibrated 3 minutes later, finding a text message from Harry. You sighed and felt safe when you saw his icon light up your notifications, knowing he was in contact with you.

From Harry: Of course, you okay? xx

You didn’t open your phone because you didn’t know how to respond. How do you tell him you’re not okay, only 20 minutes before he’s meant to be ready to go on stage? You didn’t want to worry him, but you also didn’t want him thinking you were a terrible girlfriend either.

Another vibration.

From Harry: Lovie? xx

Your eyes watered at that simple word, meaning so much more to you than five letters. It made you feel so much comfort, you only wished you could get that hug and a kiss now.

Again.

From Harry: Love, you’re worrying me now.

From Harry: Let me face-time you, hang on.

His icon lit up the screen; Incoming…

You shakily accepted, wiping your eyes quickly before. When he answered you could tell he was still in his dressing room, sat on the sofa that you wish you were also sat on with him. He looked so beautiful. His hair was perfectly styled and he was wearing a pearl coloured silk shirt and you knew he was wearing white silk pants to co-ordinate. You thought he looked ethereal. A glowing beacon of hope and beauty.

He didn’t say anything to you at first and you nothing to him. He just looked at you and instantly knew something bad was up. He kept eye contact with you and it was as if he was having a telepathic conversation with you, understanding that you needed him and just him.

“Hey, Mitch man?” Harry asked, turning his head to somewhere else in the room. “Could y’just give me a minute. Please.”

“Sure, sure.” Mitch answered and all you could hear was the sound of shuffling and the door shut. As soon as he was gone you started crying all over again. You cupped your hand over your eyes and your body shook as you just cried. Harrys heart broke that you were alone and he couldn’t hug you close to his chest.

“Y/N, baby. Look at me.” He asked urgently and you just shook your head, embarrassed that this was happening to you. “You’ll be alright lovie, I promise. Just look at me, beautiful.” You moved your hand away from your face and wiped your eyes and nose to try and make you look slightly better - not that it helped. “There’s my pretty girl.”

You smiled. He smiled.

“I-i’m so-rry H.” You whispered, sniffling in between words because of how shaky you felt.

“Hey, no. None of that. It’ll be okay.” He reassured you, keeping eye contact with you to try and decipher what was wrong. “Where are you, lovie? You’re in the car, yeah?” Harry asked, recognising your surroundings but you could get anywhere. You could have been in an accident for all he knew, but he was remaining calm so he didn’t send you into a panic.

“Yeah. In the stadium car park.” You saw Harrys eyes momentarily light up at that, before he remembered that you weren’t okay.

“Okay. Tell me why you’re upset, love. Help me understand.” He sounded urgent, just wanting to know so he could help you out. He wanted you to be okay. He wanted you with him.

“The security guards wouldn’t let me in, backstage I mean. I didn’t have my backstage pass. But..” You choked on a sob and Harry told you to just breathe. You were okay. “One of them g-grabbed me and escorted m-me of sight.”

“Baby, are you hurt? Is that why you’re upset?” Harry asked, standing up now in panic. His face looked angry, but you could tell he was trying his best to be a comfort for you. “Y/N?”

“Y-yes. Yes Harry, yes.” You voice wobbled out and you let out an exasperated sob. “I’m s-sor—”

“No don’t you dare. Don’t apologise for this. Not ever. You understand me?” He made very clear he wasn’t messing around.

“Yes.” You nodded.

“Alright. Now, you gotta be strong for me okay?” He asked, before asking, still checking that you were okay. He knew you would be though, because you were his bravest girl ever - stronger than you knew.

“Okay.”

“You’re going to make your way back to the backstage entrance, alright? I am going to be there, before you get there. Those security guards won’t be there I promise. You’ll be okay. Can you do that for me?” He asked, moving around the room and then out of the door. He was walking down the corridors, ignoring the people shouting his name. He was only focused on you.

“Yes. Okay.” You nodded, wiping under your nose again.

“I love you.” He kissed the camera of his phone, looking like he was kissing you instead.

You returned the gesture, kissing him virtually back. “I love you.”

He told you that it’d be alright and then ended the call, explaining how you didn’t need to hear him get angry when he found these security guards. They would be fired even if they weren’t on his tour crew, he’d make sure of it. You made your way back to the backstage entrance again, slowing down before you rounded the corner. Taking a deep breathe you walked around and were met with exactly what Harry promised; him.

You smiled and broke out into a run to get to him, your bag weighing on your shoulder. Once you reached him your bag was thrown on the floor in front of him and you jumped into his arms. He lifted you up to sit you around his waist, keeping his arms tight around your waist and squeezing the biggest hug out of you. Your arms tightened around your boyfriends neck and you buried your face into his neck, and god he smelt like everything homely and sweet. He felt just like home.

“See, you’re alright now lovie.” He assured you, kissing your cheek that wasn’t quite buried into his neck.

“Th-ank you.” You muttered, kissing his neck in appreciation which made him hum in delight. He tasted so hot and lush. He was insatiable. You then felt him start kissing your arms, where the harsh red and purple marks were.

“Sorry y’had to go through this.” He kept kissing your arms, until you moved your head up and looked at him with furrowed eyebrows.

“If I can’t say sorry, then neither can you.” You shook your head, kissing his nose softly. You watched his eyes flutter close and felt so special that only you could do that to him.

“You’re so amazing Y/N. Truly.”

“You’re pretty special too, my love.”

He didn’t need to hear anything else from you, those words were enough, so he pressed his lips to yours softly, filling you with the love you’d been waiting to feel all day. You smiled into the kiss and he just felt so amazing. He was so soft and gentle with you - as smooth as the silk that dressed his body. He was so pretty to watch melt away under your spell and delicious tasting. Strawberries, was that?

He was everywhere. He was everything. He always would be.

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bonky-n-steeb · 3 years

Text

��𝐸𝑀𝐸𝑀𝐵𝐸𝑅

PART ONE

𝙇𝙊𝙆𝙄 𝙭 𝙍𝙀𝘼𝘿𝙀𝙍 | 𝙎𝙏𝙀𝙑𝙀 𝙍𝙊𝙂𝙀𝙍𝙎 𝙭 𝙍𝙀𝘼𝘿𝙀𝙍

𝗦𝗨𝗠𝗠𝗔𝗥𝗬: Bored after staying on Asgard your entire life, you decide to sneak on earth. But what happens when Steve falls irrevocably in love with you, the Queen of Asgard, wife of Loki.

𝗪𝗔𝗥𝗡𝗜𝗡𝗚𝗦: yandere, obsession, death, violence, cursing, manipulation. If you find any of this triggering, please DNI. Also inform me if I left something out.

ɴᴏᴛ ʙᴇᴛᴀ ʀᴇᴀᴅ, ᴀʟʟ ᴍɪsᴛᴀᴋᴇs ᴀʀᴇ ᴍɪɴᴇ

As you know my previous account got deleted and therefore I have to post this again... Hope you guys like it!

SERIES MASTERLIST || MASTERLIST

You sat reading a book in the ethereal gardens of the Palace, with your back pressed against a tree. Loki had brought that book from Midgard. You loved reading, and Loki always got you books from all over the nine realms. That’s how you had bonded in the very beginning.

As you read the book, you had a feeling you already knew what was going to happen, as if you had already read it. So, you closed it and stared at the grand garden before you. Filled with plethora of flowers, the sweet smell diffusing in the air, the palette of colors pleasing the eye.

“Do you need something?” Your maid asked. You shook your head, “I don’t, and even if I needed something I would take it myself.” You gave her a smile at that.

You were the daughter of a common farmer; you were independent since your birth. You had a habit of doing everything by yourself and even despite it being years since marrying Loki, you still couldn’t quite get adjusted to maids. They weren’t servants for you, they were your friends. Your humility and intelligent was something Loki had fallen head over heels for.

The entire Asgard was happy and wonderfully surprised when Loki had announced that he would be marrying you. A common girl with barely any powers was marrying the God of Mischief and the king of Asgard; that had generated quite the rumors, some even thought it was one of his pranks. Even you were worried, but Loki had chased all your worries away.

Despite Thor being the elder brother, Loki had been crowned as the king. Though Thor was powerful and had immense strength, he neither wished to be the king, nor did he have the time to be one. He was rather busy with Midgard and thus Loki had taken the mantle.

When it came to you, even despite being the God of Lies, Loki never lied. He was the best husband you could ask for. Taking your opinions in consideration, asking for your help, cherishing you, loving you more than anybody else. He didn’t rule Asgard alone, no, he ruled Asgard alongside you.

You had changed him; from the selfish Loki whose heart was filled with vengeance, you had made him into a noble and beloved king. But still he never stopped pulling pranks on you, and you took it just as lightly. He was still very mischievous at his heart and you had accepted him with all he brought along.

There was just one thing he didn’t allow: you visiting Earth. And that was only because he was worried for you. The people of Midgard had not taken his attack lightly, and they were still very much furious. Though they were now on good terms, he didn’t want anything to happen to you. You were his everything.

And visiting Earth at least once was one of the only things you wanted. Literally everyone had been to Midgard except you. Even Loki and definitely Thor frequented Midgard, but not you. Once a month you both used to come to that topic and he would brush you off, promising you to take somewhere else. And that maybe fueled your need to go to Midgard even more.

“What are you thinking about, my love?” When you heard his sweet yet authoritative voice, you smiled softly. Lost in thoughts you hadn’t even noticed he was sitting beside you. You inhaled deeply, “I was thinking about the forbidden fruit. I was thinking what would go wrong if I went to Midgard. Just once Loki, just once. That’s the only thing I ask of. I’ve heard the Earth is circular, unlike Asgard!” You asked giving him your best puppy dog eyes.

“Now my beloved, how many times, huh? How many times do I have to list the reasons why you shouldn’t visit Midgard. I won't be able to live if something happens to you. I will go insane, there won’t be a point in living.” He gently took your chin between his fingers and pressed a soft kiss to your cheek.

“I know Loki, I love you too. But aren’t your relations with Earth better now? And Thor goes there all the time and so do you! And I have powers Loki!” You had the powers of making anyone reveal the truth. You were a rarity; a commoner with powers. Your ability to extract truth was really an ace at your side while ruling Asgard.

“We don’t know if someone is holding any grudge. I can’t risk it. Ask me anything, I will search the entire universe for it and bring it upon your feet. Just not Earth. Now I don’t want to ruin such a perfect day by arguing with you.” Before you could speak further, he shut you with a kiss.

As you both laid in each other embrace, you got lost in the abyss of his eyes. “Oh Loki, do you know how much I love you?” With eyes full of mischief, “Well you do know a certain way to show your love, my beloved wife.” He quipped.

~~~

Today Thor was leaving for Midgard. And at the same time, you had made your plans to sneak. You had started wondering if Loki had a mistress there, well what else could be his reason for not permitting you to visit Earth.

One part of the plan was already in action. You had shared your concerns with Heimdall. He had been awfully quiet but when you had pleaded and asked of it as a favor for his Queen, he had agreed. On the condition that you would return within 3 days, or else he would pull you back to Asgard. You had happily agreed.

The plan was simple, while he would transport Thor, you would go too, you just had to stand close enough to Thor. All excited, you got ready in the best of your clothes. You knew they didn’t dress like this on Midgard, but you had an impression to make as the Queen of Asgard.

The dark green silk robe complimented your emerald wedding ring; you wore button earrings and connected them to your hair clip with chains. You let your hair down but not without braiding few locks of hair; your right index and ring fingers were adorned with your best rings. You wanted to wear your crown, but decided it would be too much for Midgardians; after all you were going there for vacation, you had no plans of ruling earth.

Not many were there to say goodbye to Thor, the Prince travelled very frequently. You were glad that today neither Loki nor the warriors were there. “Goodbye Thor, have a safe journey!” You said as you stood a little too close to him. It was your signal for Heimdall to transport you to Midgard. “Thank you, sister...” before Thor could complete his sentence, you were both sucked into the wormhole.

~~~

It was a.... cool experience to say at least. To be honest, you had no idea. You had kept your eyes closed through half of the journey, and you had probably screamed your throat dry. You did travel through the Bifrost at times but Loki always held you tight. Today though you were spinning all by yourself in the rainbow tunnel. Thank the Norns, it was over faster that you expected.

As Thor landed gracefully in the Avengers compound, you landed straight on your ass and skidded halfway across, bruising you elbow and knuckles.

Thor’s voice boomed aloud, as you tried to get up rubbing your aching ass, “Oh dear Sister! Are you alright?” He said as he helped you get up, “Well, Heimdall didn’t tell me how to land.” You tried to lighten the mood.

“There must have been some mistake. Don’t worry I’ll call Heimdall to send you back.” He said softly while rubbing your elbow as he began praying to Heimdall.

“Uhh, well Thor, that’s not needed. And this... this wasn’t an accident at all. I kind of made a deal with Heimdall and he sent me here...” Thor’s eyes widened with shock and what you thought was anger. You had never ever seen Thor get angry at you, ever. And you were truly scared now.

Thor and you were best of friends. It was as if you two were siblings, not Thor and Loki. As you looked at him now, you knew you had truly screwed up. You knew your decision would anger Loki, but his anger you could handle. You weren’t quite sure about it with respect to Thor.

“You did what? You aren’t supposed to be here! You are going back to Asgard before anyone sees you.” He held you by your elbow and it hurt like hell. “But Thor,...” you tried pleading. Maybe you had not guessed the extent of your family’s anger correctly and you knew you were going to pay for it badly.

“I wasn’t asking you.” He said in an impersonal tone. “You need to understand this is for your own good.” You were tired of listening to the same thing over and over again for so many years. And you finally snapped.

“Tell me the truth Thor! I know that’s not the only reason, why don’t you people want me to come here? Does... does Loki have a mistress here? Huh? I’m so sick of listening to you people give me all kinds of stupid reasons to keep me away from here! You know, if maybe you had not reinforced the fact that I’m not allowed to visit Midgard again and again, then maybe I wouldn’t be so obsessed with coming here.” You couldn’t hold your tears back.

“It’s not what you are thinking, trust me sister, Loki only loves you. But we need to go now and don’t use your powers on me.” You snatched your hand away from him. He was correct in guessing your intentions, you were going to use your powers on him to make him say the truth. But his anger held you back. After all, he was your family, and this visit to earth was just three days long.

“There’s one catch; you can’t take me back. I told you, I’ve made a deal with Heimdall. It includes that He won’t open the Bifrost for me to leave Earth until the evening of the third day!”

~~~

The Avengers were all gathered in the briefing room. Thor was coming back and they needed to discuss an important upcoming mission. As Steve stood telling everyone about the mission, they could hear the tell-tale noise of the rainbow tunnel as they called it.

Tony yawned loudly and stood up from his chair, he was least bit interested in the meeting and just wanted to get out. “Thor is here. We should go meet him.” He said stretching. Steve rolled his eyes, while Nat and Clint got up.

“We can continue, Thor knows where to come.” Steve interjected. “I guess Tony is right on this one.” Wanda said shrugging. Before they could continue, they heard the noise of Thor and a lady arguing. Her voice was vaguely familiar.

“Let’s go!” Tony said excitedly as he hoped to get a little more spice on this dull day. Reluctantly even Steve joined the entire group as they walked outside. Thor was facing them and from his gestures even they knew he was truly angry. The lady had her back to them, her golden magic swirling around her hand, showing her anger and annoyance at Thor. She was dressed in the finest fabric.

Thor stood still and suddenly stopped fighting as he saw literally all of the Avengers looking at the two of them with keen interest. You saw his stunned and somewhat worried expression, so before he could stop you whipped your head around.

The moment you turned, Steve’s heart stopped in his chest. He couldn’t believe his eyes. This was not true; this couldn’t be true. You were just like in his dreams, if not more beautiful. Your eyes pulled him in like sirens calls. Your voice a sweet balm on his heartache. You looked like a goddess, and he was sure you were one. But, how could you possibly be here? So very real, standing in front of him in all your grace, just as if to taunt him.

You tilted your head in confusion, all of them, literally all of them were staring at you as if they had seen a dead person walk out of the grave. “Uh, well, you must be the Avengers I’ve heard so much about! It was rude of us to fight out here, and I apologize for the commotion. Let me introduce myself, I’m Y/N, The Queen of Asgard and the wife of the beloved King Loki.”

As you said the words, all of the Avengers’ eyes widened with confusion, as fear and anger gripped their hearts.

#chris evans #tom hiddleston #mcu #marvel #loki #steve rogers #loki x reader #steve rogers x reader #loki x you #steve rogers x you #steve rogers series #loki series #steve rogers x y/n #loki x y/n

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marvels-writings · 3 years

Text

Lost

Maria Hill Masterlist

Summary: She’s lost without you, and when she finally finds you, a goodbye looms in the distance.

Requested by Anon: how about a fic where maria hill is working on a mission in which she has to rescue reader? every single time she's gotten close to getting reader, hydra manages to stay one step ahead of her no matter what. it's been nearly two years without the love of her life and maria has gotten close to reader once again. the twist? hydra gives reader back to maria but only after injecting a highly experimental serum that causes excruciating pain to reader. the only solution is for maria to kill reader bc reader doesn't want to be in pain for the rest of their life. it's up to maria to make the decision.

Word Count: 3.3k (Long and angsty)

A/N: This took me over a week to write and fuck me if it isn’t some of my best written work. @aaron-despair and I planned out an angsty weekend for y'all, i think you'll like it, even if it makes you cry ;)

Quiet filled the room, not the peaceful quiet of mornings everyone is used to. Rather a suffocating one, one reminding you of mistakes, old and new, bringing to light the horrors of your reality. Even if the light from the early day began to seep through the blinds, the silence remained.

The papers scattered around the desk were even worse than the silence. They taunted Maria; showed her how she was always one step behind from finding you. The information always a day too late; you were gone just a few hours before she could find you.

Two years it had been going, two whole years she'd been trying to find you. It had just passed the day Maria lost you. Fury had forced her to take a week off, to try to take her mind off it. Instead, she buried herself in reports, clues, anything to find you.

This time, she thought she might be close. The information was new, blaring at her from the laptop screen in front of her. Rubbing her eyes, she focused on it again, reading the words over and over. It had your name on it, along with others captured in the HYDRA base.

A rare smile turned the corners of her lips at the mere thought of bringing you back. All that had kept her going was you, the memories of you, the pictures, everything she could preserve. Without even that, she would be lost, without you to guide her forwards. The mementos were all that was keeping her from losing herself in her loss.

Memories sometimes feel like poison, don't they? Especially when they come in the form of dreams, capturing you in a trance, forcing you to believe an ethereal reality which you can't call your own. Sometimes you can wake up from them, choosing to leave the trance; but the pleasure of staying a few more moments in a treasured dream was too tempting for even Maria to pass up.

She turned in her sleep, her eyes fluttering restlessly as her mind conjured memories she rarely let herself indulge into. The memory is one she didn't remember fully; it just being another day where she got to wake up beside you. Your touch lingering on her skin, your lips ghosting over her neck as you welcomed her into the morning.

A smile adorned her face as she looked at you. You didn't look like the countless pictures she kept, rather the way she always wants to remember you. Cast in golden light, adoration lining your every motion, smiling, free.

Her hand reached up to your face, running across the skin of your cheek. Everything felt so right like she was where she belonged. It was like she had been lost for so long, wandering for years until she found her home with you.

Why could she only find her home in a dream?

Why could she only seek solace in the ghost of your touch? Why should she feel cold in the warm rays of sunlight only to feel warm in her memories? Why should she feel lost every single day, only to feel anchored when dreams finally invade her lonely presence?

Opening her eyes, it all faded away into the blank white of the sheets and the dull light of the day. Some light of hope, a few rays of sunlight made their way through the overcast, giving her the slightest glimmer of hope. It convinced her, just for a few minutes, there may be a chance she won't have to seek you in her dreams again.

That tiny sliver of hope pulled her through the day and into the jet to go find you. Agents talked and laughed on the jet, offering a silent nod to Maria when she entered. They understood her grief better than most, being the people you'd sacrificed yourself for.

Though, sacrificed isn't exactly the word for it. You weren't dead, just missing, lost to her and everyone who tried to find you. You, stupidly, idiotically, had chosen to stay behind to save them. Even on a mission, you weren't supposed to go on; you stayed in a HYDRA base to save them.

Selflessness was a trait she had commended you for, but she never thought it would tear you from her.

The same team you'd stayed behind for were always the first to jump on the jet when you were involved. They were the ones who told Maria you were gone. They saw her crumble, feeling her pain as if it was their own. The guilt weighed down on them ever since, bringing them to every single chance to find you, to take away Maria's pain they were so sure they caused.

The ride to the location was fairly quiet, the agents chatting quietly on the other side of the jet while Maria sat at the front, monitoring the autopilot. She didn't need to sit there to make sure the jet was on course, but she wanted the time alone.

Her gaze was fixed on the ring she twirled in her fingers. The gold solitaire glinted in the light, making everything brighter for a treasured few moments. You'd fawned about the ring to her in a jewelry shop before she proposed to you, describing it as flawless and too pretty to wear. You didn’t think Maria would listen to your little rant, much less buy you the ring to promise herself to you. You would've loved it.

Maria tugged the ring back onto its chain, where it had remained until you could wear it. The chain stayed around her neck, rarely being taken off unless necessary. The cold metal of the ring rested against her skin, always reminding her of you.

You would've joked about it being sappy, finding it adorable how she would want to keep a part of you close to her. Never had she been called adorable before, everyone being too intimidated by the Deputy Director of SHIELD. But you, you simply ran your fingers over her skin, claiming her perfection while everyone saw otherwise.

"We're here."

Maria nodded, hiding her surprise at the interruption. She should've been the one to say that, too lost in her thoughts of you to care about much else. It didn't matter though, this might be another chance where she wouldn't have to dream of you to keep you close.

Fully armed, the team moved out of the jet and towards the base. The dull grey of the buildings contrasting with the bright green of the forest around them. Maria couldn't help her thoughts wandering to what you would've thought of the view.

You'd always wanted to go somewhere green for your honeymoon. It didn't matter if it was a bright day or not, you always enjoyed the clouds more. You claimed it brought out the green in the trees, making a heaven out of what others see as disappointing.

The green was all she could stare at as she made her way to the base. The paint on the walls of the building was chipping off as her fingers ran over it. The team surrounded the base, slowly making their way inside. Maria stayed outside, on the off chance she saw their transport driving away from the base.

Strange, she already expected you won't be here. She was already preparing her speech for the team when they were disappointed once more. The chance of bringing you back had been taken away from her so many times that having it back was too hard to believe.

Shouts over the comms caught her attention, the team went off plan to gather around the back entrance of the building. The objective lost as they huddled around a screaming voice. Maria began shouting at the team to get back into formation to find you, but something about the voice was oddly familiar.

the voice was the one she heard in her dreams, the one she sought out every day to bring her some sense of comfort. The voice was yours, screaming out in pain. Never had she heard you scream before, the sound causing chills to erupt around her body as she ran towards you.

Her feet pounded the ground, her heartbeat thudding in her ears as fear clouded her mind. You were back, but why were you in so much pain if you were rescued? The team parted for her, letting her through to you. Their eyes held hopelessness and pity as they watched her reach you.

Finding you was something she had imagined hundreds of times, running over each scenario in her mind. Sometimes it was out of a romantic movie, other times it was different, this wasn't something she had ever imagined. Your screams were sure to haunt her for years to come as you fought an imaginary enemy.

Your back arched off of the ground, your hands punching the air in vain as screams were torn from your throat. Your face contorted in pain, covered in dirt and blood she could only hope wasn't yours. The clothes you wore were almost rags, torn everywhere.

Maria dropped down onto her knees, the sticks in the ground poking the skin there. She reached out towards your hands, trying to quiet you, pain filling her every movement. You didn't look at her, not once, fighting off an imaginary enemy instead of focusing on her.

Tears slid down her cheeks as she tried in vain to take away your pain. She didn't know what they had done to you, much less how to stop it. The team surrounding her whispered to each other, knowing some secret they hadn't let her in on.

Her hands pinned your wrist by your sides as you squirmed, eyes closed shut. The sticks scratched your skin, bringing out tiny red lines which dripped into the mud. But you weren't bothered by the scratches, nor the bruises lining your body too lost in your mind.

"Y/N!" Maria shouted, trying desperately to bring you out of your head. "Please,"

Her words were a soft plea, begging to bring you back to her. She had lived in fear of losing you for so long, but she had only ever thought of losing you to death. Never had she thought of losing you like this, in a pain, she didn't know how to end.

She spoke your name over and over again in a desperate plea to bring you back to her. You relaxed at her voice, your body going limp as your eyes began to flutter open. Her hands came up to your face, guiding your gaze to her. You finally focused on her, a smile breaking through your look of pain.

"Hey," Maria whispered, a rare smile gracing her lips. She leaned her forehead against yours, feeling your breath across her face, your hands slowly coming up around her. They dragged her down, too exhausted to hold her.

But it was you. Everything was the same but different at the same time. Your soul was broken, teeming with ragged edges of glass and blood, its core still the same. The woman she had fallen in love with was there, underneath the pain and the exhaustion, it was you.

The same you she had seen in her dreams every night, calling out to her. The same woman she had mourned every single day for two years. The same one she longed to put the ring on because her soul could never unite with another.

Her arms slid under your waist, trying to pick you up to get you medical attention, but you dragged her back down. A frown etching its way onto her face, she pulled away, gesturing towards the jet. You shook your head, your face grimacing in pain she didn't know how to take away.

"Don't go," You croaked, fingers clasping around her t-shirt tightly. Your weak grip a vain attempt to keep her close.

Maria shook her head, whispering to you that she wasn't going to let you go. Never could she let you out of her sight again, fearing you might leave her forever. Now, these few moments she had with you, she wanted more. A lifetime more of them, pulling the engagement ring out of her pocket.

"I won't," Maria whispered, smiling as she pulled your hand from her waist to put the ring on.

A smile covered your face at the ring, admiring it up close. This moment, it was supposed to be beautiful, the ring sealing you to her forever. But it felt more of a goodbye, the team crying around her and murmuring instead of cheering. Something was deeply wrong, but what?

Her gaze went back to you, ignoring the pit growing in her stomach. Dread filled her when you looked at her apologetically. You looked as if you were going to leave her, say your last goodbyes, and be gone for good, leaving her lost forever.

"I wish I could stay forever." You murmured. A beautifully sad smile turned the corner of your lips, sealing the dread growing in Maria's stomach.

Why were you so ready to say goodbye if she'd just found you again?

"Why can't you?" Maria asked, pleading with you to stay with her. She doubted she could last another lifetime without you to guide her. You were everything to her, the darkness she found herself lost in and the light to guide her out of it.

A syringe was handed to her wordlessly, an explanation offered by one of the team. She listened with half of her attention, the rest of it focused on you. With every word you sank further into the ground, your head resting on the dirt. Her hand gripped the syringe tightly, willing for this all to go away so she could have her dream with you.

Why is it everything is taken away so soon? All these years she had been lost, only to find you again for a treasured few moments. Now, the serum they had injected you with would cause you pain for the rest of your life if she chose to save you. The serum was injected into the rest of the team, but only a mild solution to see the effects. You, on the other hand, were given an option, to die now or live a painful reality for a lifetime.

"Hey," You whispered, your hand slowly coming up to cup her cheek, your thumb running circles around her cheekbone. She lifted her head to look at you, tears making their way down her cheeks. Your fingers wiped them away, your touch lingering on her cheeks, a small smile gracing the corner of your lips.

The guilt of causing this goodbye began to weigh on the team. They had already taken you from her once, but the hope of bringing you back to her kept the guilt at bay. Now, you were going to be gone, forever. The guilt ate them away as they walked away, letting you have your last goodbyes.

"I want you to have this." You reached into the pocket of your clothes. In your hand, lay a dirty silver ring with a sapphire stone in the center. HYDRA knew the reason behind the ring, letting you keep it as a weak illusion of hope. Your fingers ran over the engraving you had carved on the inside of the band, hoping she would read it later.

Her tears fell on the ring, watching you put it onto her fingers. The ring symbolized your love, your want to grow old with each other, to spend the rest of your life with her. The dream, the purpose the ring stood for, was never going to be fulfilled.

You couldn't stay with her, not now, not forever. The pain you felt, wasn't something you wanted for the rest of your life. You didn't want to live a life which most would be happy to live but have pain underlining your every action. You knew Maria knew your choice to leave, neither of you want to say it yet.

But you knew this was your last goodbye.

Such a painful pleasure to be denied a few moments with you. To dream about this moment, for nights on end, imagining being with you again, only to have it denied. To hope, every single day for a dream you had made together only to have it never come true.

The memories she had with you lasted her through the two years of your absence. Through the darkness your absence cast, through the late nights of being so utterly lost without a light to guide her way. The moments she had with you now, would last her the rest of her life.

"I'm not ready to say goodbye again," Maria spoke, tears slipping from her eyes faster than you could wipe them away. you sighed, leaning your forehead against hers, your hand clasping hers tightly. The clink of the rings brought a sad smile to your face, barely shining through the tears.

"Goodbyes are never something we're ready for." You whispered, smiling against her lips. You leaned forwards slowly, letting your lips meet hers.

Tears mixed into the kiss, the salty taste stinging her tongue. Your lips were chapped, but so soft against hers. She sighed against you, molding herself into you. Her body rested against yours, holding you close, wishing you wouldn't leave as you slowly pulled away.

"If only you were a dream, I wouldn't feel the pain of losing you again," Maria murmured, her breath hitting your face with every word. If only you were a dream, but would this be a dream or another nightmare she can't get out of her mind?

"This is a delightful dream then." You muttered, your head resting back against the dirt. Your eyelids felt heavy, slowly blinking as you stared up at the sky. Maria moved so your head was resting in her lap, your eyes staring up at her.

"I'm lost without this dream," Maria said, her fingers stroking across your skin. Her hand in your hair, comforting you as much as she could. Death was never something she wanted for you, but she could at least provide you with a comfortable goodbye.

"Then in your dreams, I'll be lost with you." You whispered, smiling again. Your hand came up to her cheek, caressing it gently, watching her lean into your touch. It warmed your heart when she kissed the palm of your hand, more tears spilling from her cheeks.

It was a beautifully broken moment, the trance you were trapped under as you stared at Maria unbroken by anything. Apart from her wanted to yell for help, to try to save what remained of you. But it would be selfish if she saved you only to keep you close to herself.

She knew this was what you wanted, to say goodbye peacefully. But god it was killing her to watch the light slowly fade from your eyes. She made it as comfortable as possible, playing with your hair, running your fingers across her cheek. She even started singing to you, humming the tune you'd picked out for your first dance at your wedding.

Nothing could be done as you whispered how much you loved her before closing your eyes for the last time. Maria could only hope you knew how much she loved you. She could only mourn for her loss, tears falling relentlessly from her eyes without you to wipe them away.

Lost was all she felt, wandering in the darkness created by your absence, without the hope of being with you to guide her out. Oh, to be found for a treasured few minutes would be enough to last her life through. Even if she felt lost, she had her dreams in which she could find you, along with the rings which she swore she could feel you in, especially with the words you engraved.

"Lost without you."

A/N: If you're crying, please tell me in the comments and the reblogs!! If not, tell me how you feel anyway

Tag List: @capcarolsdanver, @versdan, @lesbian-girls-wayhaught, @lovebotlarson, @dhengkt, @hstoria, @natasha-danvers, @veryfunnyal, @xxxtwilightaxelxxx , @ophelias-heart , @never-didbefore , @justarandomhumanhere, @the-most-unicorn-of-them-all , @thatssocamryn , @lesbian-x-blackwidow , @wlw-imaginesss , @hcartbyheart , @summergeezburr , @imnotasuperhero , @a-stressedstudent , @aaron-despair , @rooskaya-yelena , @thewitchandtheassassin , @wannabe-fic-reader , @izalesbean, @higherfurther-romanova , @natalia-quinzel , @blackxwidowsxwife , @studies-styles , @procrastinatingsapphictrash let me know if you’d like to be in any of my tag lists!

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cafeacademia · 3 years

Text

Beyond Words

Draco Malfoy x Reader

Summary: Draco creates himself something to chase a feeling he can’t explain and it’s only when he shows you, his best friend, that he understands what that beautiful feeling in his heart is.

Warnings: None, it’s just fluff and soft Draco, some kissing, friends to lovers (I think that’s a given with me now 😅)

Word count: Approx 2500

Masterlist

A/N: Hi loves!! This is my fic for my darling @fuckingdraco‘s 1K writing challenge! My prompt was “Take my hand. Just trust me.”, it’s highlighted in bold in the fic! As well as that, this fic was heavily inspired by my favourite song by Fleurie - Explosions of Grandeur, I tried to emulate the feeling this song gives me into this piece! Anyway, enjoy!! 💕💕

The taglist is open, please send me an ask if you’d like to be added!

Draco would never admit it, not to his peers or to his family, but he had always had a love for books. It wasn’t just a story that he craved, it was the feeling of escape he found between the pages, that whenever he opened a book and smelled the aged parchment and ran his fingers over the printed words, he found himself transported somewhere else.

It was magic in itself, the way it made him feel, the way it allowed him to find himself in a rich world, filled with things that brought him happiness and love and anguish and fear, all in the best ways. Because the best part about a good book was that when he was finished reading it, Draco felt the most wonderful feeling, like he had been on the adventure of a lifetime while sitting curled up in a squishy old armchair in front of the fire.

But now, as he gently closed the book in his hands, it was not a regular storybook. It was not the work of a seasoned author or some kind of documentation of something discovered in the wizarding world, nor was it a diary or a journal. It was something far more special than all of those things combined.

Draco had searched for a way to create his own magical feeling, one he wanted to find whenever he was immersed in a book. And soon, he had found his answer in the restricted section of the library one rainy, blustery Thursday night while Filch was too busy corralling some first years back to their common rooms during the mid evening.

It was everything he had hoped for when he skimmed over the words on the page. Ideas immediately coming to him as he read deeper and deeper into the wonderful discovery he had made. And he thought at the time, that there was not a single person in this world that he would ever feel he could share this with.

But he had not accounted for you, who somehow, through your persistent kindness and sweet nature, had managed to soften him and become someone who stood at his side near constantly. And it was not long before he decided that you were definitely the person he wanted to share his hand crafted secret with. You had melted his heart, warmed him with every smile you gave him and made his eyes gleam with love whenever he cast his gaze on you. It was impossible for him not to love you when you were someone so sweet and kind and genuine. He felt he could be himself, that around you he could be real and for the first time in his life, he felt a little bit of that magical feeling he got when he opened a book whenever he was around you.

And slowly, as he spent hours each night writing on the blank pages of his book, he began to realise what that feeling was that he craved and without even realising, he was capturing it between the pages of his book.

“You’ll come with me this evening, won’t you?” Draco asked after class as he plucked your books right out of your hands to carry them himself as he walked with you towards your next class together. “Of course I will, I’d never miss a night with you.” You said with a sweet smile and Draco almost melted on the spot. How was it that his best friend was so sweet and so endearing? And how was it that Draco was struggling to find the right words to explain that he loved you? It was not as if he was not well learned and well read. He was often poetic with his words when he was alone, but he was not used to speaking those words out loud to someone he cared for.

“Good, I have something to show you.” Draco glanced over at you, watching your reaction. “Ooh and what would that be?” You asked. “Wouldn’t you like to know, princess?” He said teasingly with a smirk. “It’s a surprise, I promise,” He paused as you both approached the classroom door, the Slytherin leaning in close to you. “It’ll be worth the wait.” He spoke quietly, something about the lower octave of his voice, the way he looked at you and winked made you feel something. Merlin, if only he knew what he did to you.

And that evening, after you had finished your meal in the Great Hall, Draco was quick to nearly sweep you off your feet, the way he gently took your hand in his with such a mysterious, yet endearing smile on his lips as he led you along to his prefect dormitory.

It was common for you both to spend most Friday and Saturday nights in each other’s company for a few hours. Sometimes you’d do homework together, other times you’d spend hours chatting, playing wizard chess and thinking up plans for your lives after Hogwarts together, side by side. It never occurred to you, despite the love you both held for one another, that perhaps you were meant to be together. That perhaps your plans to be at the other’s side for as long as you could, would not just be as friends, but something more. And as you spent more of your time with Draco, you began to realise that kind of connection with him was something you craved.

“So what’s this thing you want to show me?” You asked as you dropped onto his bed, the soft dark green sheets creasing beneath you. Draco looked away from you towards his desk hesitantly. He knew you would not judge him, but he feared it nonetheless. “It’s this.” Draco replied, gripping a book in his hands and lifting it up so you could take a look. “A book?” You asked, meeting his eyes with an inquisitive look. “It’s not an ordinary book.” Draco said, holding his index finger up as he pushed his chair away from the desk before he laid the book out on the ebony wooden surface.

“What is it, then?” You asked, slowly standing up and peering over at it. “Come, I’ll show you.” Draco waved you over. As you stepped across his bedroom floor to stand at his side, Draco reached over and opened the cover of the book to reveal the first page. Property of D.M. was written in beautiful cursive. You had only ever seen him use handwriting like that when he wrote something with great care and meaning. You had a few letters you cherished dearly that you had received from Draco throughout your holidays in that beautiful cursive.

“Darling, take my hand.” Draco spoke softly, holding out his hand for you to take, the name he used for you giving you butterflies. You looked at him with an air of curiosity, but the unknown of what he was showing you seemed to make you feel on edge. “Just trust me, love, I promise you’ll love it.” The sincerity of his voice was already enough to comfort and convince you, but the way he looked at you with such a kind, sweet look in his eyes told you it was okay.

“Alright.” You nodded, gently placing your hand in his, the ashen haired boy giving you a soft smile before he turned his attention back to his book, raising his wand and pressing it against the pages. “In libro.” He muttered it so softly you almost didn’t catch it because as soon as the words left his lips, you felt the most wonderful sensation. You were sucked in, feeling weightless and in less than a second, what had been Draco’s bedroom was a flurry of soft pages, yellowed and stained and old, the gentle flutter of parchments coupled with the musty smell of old books and antique wood polish made you feel like you really were inside of a book.

And it all passed in a matter of seconds, because as fast as you had recognised the smells filling your senses, a world had begun to materialise around you. Soft, dark scribbles in Draco’s perfect cursive handwriting formed the outlines of things as if they were being written before you, the words blurring into fully formed lines, colour filling the environment around you, texture and depth filling in each detail as a soft breeze brushed through your hair, lifting the edges of your clothing, sweeping over your fingers entwined with Draco’s.

It was so real, everything around you was intricately detailed and wonderfully formed as if you had been taken to a location in the real world, when really, you knew you were between the pages of a book. It felt new but at the same time it felt as if you had known it all along and as you looked over at Draco with a look of amazement about you, you realised it was the familiarity you had when you met someone you felt like you had known for years, much like you had with Draco when you had first met him.

Taking in a deep breath, it was something ethereal, something otherworldly yet so real, the air feeling as crisp and as full bodied as the fresh air you breathed in each morning through the open windows in your dormitory. The grass beneath your feet was just as soft and springy as the grass in the grounds and the stonework of the beautiful house ahead of you looked as real as any stone house. Looking up, the sky was a mixture of colours, enriched with the misty smell of rain and hazy afternoon sun, soft clouds tinted with gentle tones of purples and greys passing overhead and the hint of stars in the far distance made the world Draco had brought you to feel even more wonderful and alive.

The feeling it brought you was something of nostalgia, of comfort and warmth and every good thing in between. It was something more than words on a page, or the description of how something was meant to be, it was not imaginary or dreamt up. It was real, handcrafted with words, but it was beyond what words could encapsulate. It was neither a dream nor a reality, it was something in between, something truly ethereal, unreal yet so astoundingly real, evidenced by the way it felt when you knelt down to run your fingers across the soft blades of grass, and when you reached over to trail your fingers through the soft trickle of the crystal clear stream that ran around the edge of the garden.

“It’s incredible.” You gasped softly, finally able to find your voice after being captivated by everything around you. “I hoped you’d feel that way too.” Draco nodded, smiling as he proudly looked around his little secret garden, nestled between pages, wrapped in a feeling of safety, of unending comfort, a deep sense of love overcoming you both as you slowly explored the work of Draco’s words. “I needed something more than words. Something deeper.” He explained as he approached a patch of wildflowers, the Slytherin leaning over to gently lift the head of a flower and admire it for a moment. It was as soft as silk in his fingers, as delicate and as real as the flowers you already knew.

You were in awe as you stood near the middle, eyes cast up into the dreamy sky, Draco approaching you, his hands resting in his trouser pockets. “Has anyone else seen this place?” You asked as you cast your gaze on him. “Only you, darling. You’re the only person I want to share this with.” Draco told you, pulling his hands free from his pockets as he stepped in front of you, gently taking both of your hands in his.

“You’re the only one I ever want to share things with,” He paused, his eyes softening as he looked at you, love surfacing in his deep grey eyes. “You’re the only one I want to share myself with.” The feeling that blossomed in your heart at his words was like no other, making you feel weightless, spreading warmth through you like sweet honey.

“Draco,” Your voice was gentle, his name sweet on your lips, the ashen haired boy melting at the sight of your features, bathed in the ethereal light above you, the way your eyes had softened at his words and your smile curved gently, but it was genuine, reaching your eyes, making you look as if you glowed with the emotions that swam just beneath the surface. He leaned in, gently tugging you towards him, your hands coming up to rest on his chest as you drew yourself closer to him. The closeness between you was welcomed, as if the unspoken feelings you both felt had finally found their truths. You did not need to say them out loud to know that they were real, to know that your feelings for Draco were deep in your heart and shared by the same boy you loved dearly.

With his hands resting at the curve of your back, Draco pulled you in, his lips pressing against yours in a soft, gentle kiss, encapsulating you in a wondrous feeling of love. He kissed you slowly, lips moving gently against yours as your fingers trailed over his chest until they met at the back of his neck. Draco gently rested his hand at the nape of your neck, cradling you as he kissed you into pure bliss, his touch ever present as his firm, yet gentle grip on your waist tightened slightly.

Draco kissed you until you were both breathless, a warm haze overcoming you both as your lips parted, eyes fluttering open to sink into his soft grey hues. “I love you.” Draco spoke softly, with such gentle conviction that there was not a single lingering shadow of doubt in his words.

“I love you too, Draco.” Your voice, while dreamy, was sincere and Draco felt his heart flutter.

He had created a world to describe a feeling that was beyond what he could explain. Draco had accumulated all of those details and small moments that lingered in his mind, not just from snapshots inside of books, but feelings he felt when he spent time with his best friend. When he spent summer nights stargazing with you and autumnal Sunday afternoons taking a walk with you in the soft drizzle while the sun poked through the thin clouds casting a gentle haze over you both. It was everything you shared together in one place, collected together in one, wondrous, dreamy moment in time, captured between the pages of his book, printed into words to describe something beyond what they could.

It was love.

Taglist (OPEN):

@kitkatd7 @paintballkid711 @thesewaywardskies @coldlilheart @victorialynn7 @pandaxnienke @megantje123 @loving-life-my-way @chaotic-fae-queen @theweasleyslut @daltonacademia @amourtentiaa @sincerelymalfoy

#fuckingdracoswc #draco malfoy x reader #draco x reader #draco malfoy x you #draco x you #draco malfoy x y/n #draco x y/n #draco malfoy #draco lucius malfoy #draco malfoy imagine #draco imagine #draco fanfiction #draco malfoy fanfiction #harry potter #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter imagine

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thoughtfullyrainynightmare · 2 years

Note

Hello again. I’m the Anon that asked about sharing this lengthy theory beforehand ☺️

Alright,

so I only just read Noelle #4 from the headcanon ask game. The very concept of finding out she only had 1 month to live hit way too close to home because of what happened with Acier… but it really got me thinking.

It’s pretty much been an established theory for awhile now that Dorothy Unsworth is a relatively new captain like, within the last decade or so before Rill would’ve been a captain but not sure if it was before Julius became Wizard King and Yami/William created Black Bulls/Golden Dawn.

However long she has been a captain, it has been long enough where Nozel would’ve had time to grow to trust her to tell her everything he has about Megicula’s curse(s).

BUT,

personally, I do not think Nozel would have approached Dorothy first to talk about the Devil’s curse. Eventually, sure. But until he eventually talked to her, he kept that secret to himself for God knows how many years. Royal pride aside, I don’t think he would’ve just blatantly sought someone out without guarantee it wouldn’t hurt his siblings (specifically, confirmation it would not hurt Noelle. Or at least not hurt her any more than he already has in order to protect her)

Personally, my theory is that as a young new captain, all other squad captains were relatively welcoming of course… but Nozel, our silver lil’ emo boy, is just cordial enough to welcome her at best but other than that ignores her like he did with a lot of people. Probably even might have looked down on her because of his prejudices and her coming from the Forrest of Witches. Regardless this could’ve caught Dorothy’s mischievous attention or she could’ve seen Nozel/Nebra/Solid blatantly mistreat Noelle on some occasion — and regardless of which way her attention was caught, she tried to read his thoughts one day (because that is one of her abilities) and she may have only gotten a glimpse of Nozel thinking about the devil’s curse(s) while thinking about or looking at Noelle and this was enough for her to approach him ether sleepy or all giddy or something and be something like “Captain Nozel, could you spare a moment of your time?” And he has to be prestigious and keep up the mannerisms of both a royal and a squad captain, so he agrees. She brings him somewhere private like either of their offices, whatever was closest, and instantly brings him into her Glamour World. Nozel is obviously WTF IS GOING ON HERE?!?!? and Dorothy appears in front of him wide awake and all giddiness gone, she calmly/seriously says something along the lines of “Tell me about the devil’s curse.” Which would shock Nozel so much he would not be prepared enough to even attempt to hide his shock. He’s never told anyone. How could she possibly— “it obviously has something to do with your youngest sister… and your other two siblings don’t seem to know anything about it. If you haven’t told them, you must fear for them. You can talk about it here. My Glamour World isn’t affected by a devil’s reach or laws of the natural world. You can speak freely here without fear of putting yourself or your siblings in harms way.” And I don’t think Nozel would’ve talked at first and she concedes, sighing and bringing them both back to the natural world. He looks at her still silent and slightly in shock. And (she has to reach up but) she pats him on the shoulder and says something like “I just wanted you to know of somewhere it was safe to talk about it.” And she leaves him to gather his thoughts. It still would be awhile before he eventually approached her and says when they’re in private “You swear they cannot be affected? Do you swear they will not be harmed?” She smiles and transports them again to her Glamour World and again with a uncharacteristically calm/serious face and tone of voice, she looks him in the eye and says “I swear.” And little by little Nozel began to share about the curse within the confines of her Glamour World. It most definitely took time for him to eventually feel comfortable enough to let down his walls enough for Dorothy to get a glimpse of his real personality.

But I’m getting off track.

My point was, it most definitely took time for Nozel to build up enough faith and trust in Dorothy to share with her what he has about the devil’s curse(s). So Dorothy would’ve had to have been a captain for at least a few years prior to the main story. But her being 27, I highly doubt she became a captain around the same time as Nozel did. Seeing that Rill was confirmed at the first entrance exam as the “youngest magic knight captain in history” (for now) at the age of 19… we know that would’ve made Dorothy older than him and at least 20 when she became a squad captain; so she became captain at some point within the last 7 years prior to the story.

So it’s incredibly unlikely that Dorothy would’ve left the Forrest of Witches and become a magic knight before receiving her grimoire, which (seeing that she’s roughly 2 years and 3 months younger than Nozel) she would’ve not been eligible to receive until 2 years after Nozel received his (or it possibly could’ve been 3 years after Nozel received his because her birthday is at the end of March so it is possible the grimoire acceptance ceremony could’ve been just before her 15th birthday making her wait another year). Regardless, it is very unlikely Dorothy was even a magic knight before Acier died. If it took Acier a whole year to die, it still would’ve been a at least another year and a few months shy of Dorothy even being capable of receiving her grimoire (because if Acier was cursed only a few days after Noelle was born, she died in November, still 4 months before March). So unless Acier did missions in the Forrest of Witches, it’s not very likely Dorothy and Acier would have ever crossed paths.

What does any of this have to do with Noelle #4 for the headcanon ask game like I mentioned in the beginning?

All of this rambling has led up to this question…

suppose, hypothetically, that Dorothy was around just after Acier had been cursed, before Acier withered away over that next year. If she had brought Acier into Glamour World, her own personal world outside of the devil’s reach, do you think it could have kept the curse at bay and given them more time in the natural world to have possibly helped stop the curse from taking Acier’s life? Same if Noelle found out she only had a month to live. I doubt Nozel or ANY of the Black Bulls (or Kahono and Kiato… they would choreograph one hell of an angry song/dance number to the sea gods!) would accept that sitting down… do you think regarless if it was a Acier’s curse or Noelle getting cursed or just falling ill, going into glamour world would pause the affects on their bodies and prolong their time long enough for Black Bulls, Silver Eagles, the Underwater Sea Kingdom, Julius/Lolopechka (ain’t no way either of them is letting Asta’s future wife die! Because you just know Julius and Lolopechka both ship Astelle) to figure out a way to save her? Do you think glamour world can pause the affects injury or curse or illness would have on someone’s body, in the Black Clover universe? (Even if Dr. Owen had to put them in a medically induced coma to, ya know not go insane just waiting in glamour world 24/7)

Hmmm 🤔

It greatly depends on the restrictions of Dorothy's spell. As in, the first things we'd have to establish are:

1. What is Glamour World 2. How does it exist 3. How does it interact with the real world

And since Yami's "Dimension slash" was able to cut through it, but no other spell seems to be able to penetrate it, I think it's fair to assume that (1.) Glamour World is a small, separate dimension of its own. Also, since Glamour World isn't affected by the curses of the real world, then it's on a separate plane, and thus immune to those effects. (I think this has been more or less established in canon, which is why Nozel was willing to, and able to, talk about the curse in the first place, because in the manga it was established that Nozel couldn't talk about it due to the residue magic to which he was subjected.)

(2.) Because it's Dorothy's spell, I think it's fair to assume that it's like any other spell that has to be upkept. It doesn't just exist, it's a spell that has to be cast. At least for other's to enter it, because otherwise it'd be... a pre-existing space to which Dorothy can gain access to. But in that case there is no reason why she'd have total control over it. Thus, it's her own creation, and requires her mana to stay up. Which means that unless Dorothy chooses to direct mana to it 24/7, the spell wouldn't stay up 24/7

(3.) I think this ties with the explanation on what GW is (1.), and since it's a separate space from the world they (canon characters) know, there is very little interaction between the planes. Any magic that is cast by a person, or affects a person, must be inherit from the person themselves. That's how I see it, out of the "no outside curses affect here" explanation.

What happens to the physical bodies I don't know, but I don't think there is a reason why bodies shouldn't technically age while in GW. But this is debatable.

I think the issue is that Dorothy would be required to upkeep the spell in order to keep the terminally ill person in a stable condition, which would be taking a captain out of the field (more or less), and exhausting said captain. It might be able to pause an illness or condition, at least if magical, but it wouldn't be a sustainable option in the long run in my opinion.

#black clover theory #anon flamelets

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secret-ssociety · 3 years

Text

Behind the scenes

Pairing(s): Aaron Tveit x Reader, Les Mis (2012) cast x Reader

Warnings: This is just fluff. Like one curse

Summary: It is never intended for Enjolras and Eponine to fall in love in the original story, but a lot of things can happen when the cameras are turned off

A/N: I know everyone is waiting for more of the Let Me Down series but I have wanted to do this for a long time bc I am utterly in love with this man and I've always said I don't want to just write Peter Parker's stuff. Might make this several parts, who knows, I like things with parts.

masterlist

requests are open!!

For the first time in the whole day, silence fell upon the set of Les Mis, being only vaguely interrupted by the quiet chatter of everyone else who, unlike you, still had energy to talk. It's not like it was your fault, though, you had no idea of how much running around implied to play Eponine.

Huddled in a quiet corner of what had been built to be the Café Musain, you pushed your knees against your chest and hid your face between them, hoping to catch some rest before Tom decided he wanted to do a scene again. Was it maybe two in the morning? Three? You didn't even know anymore, you weren't allowed to carry a watch around your wrist and your phone was charging in your trailer, but the last time you had checked it was midnight and that had been a few hours ago.

Doing a movie, you had come to learn in your first few days of filming, was quite different from putting up a show. Interacting with your surroundings, going over scenes and even directing your eyes to a certain place while saying your lines was a world away from your common place on stage. You'd had to repress a loud squeak on your first day on set when you saw just how real everything looked, and when you started to try on your garments... you might as well have been a street urchin on Paris, 1832.

A small finger touched your shoulder timidly, waking you up from your fragile sleep and making you lift your head from its place. Your eyes took a few seconds to adjust to the light and you even had to squint a little to recognize Daniel standing next to you, looking just as tired, but with a small flame of caffeine dancing in the back of his eyes. Who the fuck gave the kid coffee? You wondered.

"How long do you think they'll keep us here?" he asked sitting next to you. From all your cast mates, Daniel was probably the first one you had grown fond of, but then again, so had everyone.

"Maybe not much longer, unless they want us to be here at noon tomorrow," you answered raising an eyebrow. Being the youngest person on the whole set, you could tell he was trying to hold his own like the adults, drinking coffee and doing his best to stay awake.

The problem with that, you knew, was that caffeine reacted differently on kids and adults: when an adult drinks coffee, it gives them energy for a long period of time, the caffeine is distributed in order to serve the body for good while. When a child drinks coffee, on the other hand, the caffeine gives them a rush of adrenaline that gets them jumping up and down and running circles around the adults, very much like Daniel was doing a while ago, thus burning all the energy they had acquired as fast as they had engorged it.

"You want to rest for a minute?" you asked him, stretching your legs so that he could rest his head on them. He shook his head tiredly, but didn't put up a fight when you grabbed his shoulder and started to lay him down.

Softly, you caressed his hair, while carefully trying to undo the tangles the dirt had made onto his hair to give him that street gamine I-live-in-the-elephant-of-the-Bastille look. In a matter of seconds, he was fully asleep, snoring quietly against the fabric of your skirt.

You heard some of the boys approaching, laughing loudly with cups of steaming coffee on their hands, and were quick to lift your finger up to your lips, to let them know of the resting boy that would be quickly awaken by their laughs. They apologized in whispers, handed you the cup they had brought for you and sat around you.

"Helena is trying to convince them to let us go to the hotel," Alistair commented, although he didn't look tired at all, more like he was amused by everyone else's exhaustion.

You sighed in relief against the cup, which was held close to your lips, making the steam hit your face in a warmth that made you aware of how cold your nose was. Only one gulp of the bitter liquid was enough to warm the blood flowing through your veins and take you back to life, you could open your eyes properly and the first the landed on was one of the most distinctive of your cast mates: Aaron Tveit.

Was there something special about him that made you think of his full name instead of just the first? Yeah, everything. He was the embodiment of the Enjolras Victor Hugo had wrote, the one that had been nicknamed Apollo by his friends. Maybe it was the way he held himself, somehow taller than everyone else, with that revolutionary fire in his eyes and walking around the set like he was actually going to get the people to build a barricade.

Wherever he happened to exist, you couldn't help but feel the presence of an olden god amongst mortals, the time go slower and light to travel in a bliss. There was just something so ethereal about him...

"He's talent, isn't he?" Alistair commented, having followed the direction of your eyes. "Among other things," Eddie joked, perhaps having caught on on the repressed smitten nature of your gaze. Stubbornly, you rolled your eyes.

As if saved by the bell, your director announced that everyone was allowed to go and get some rest, under the condition that you had to be back the next day before lunch. You were so tired, you almost forgot you were on your costume, being remembered by Eddie when you walked straight to the exit.

Up until that day, you had followed you stylist's skincare routine religiously every day after finishing filming, but once you found yourself in your sweatpants and Alistair's sweater, you simply poured water in your face and wiped all the makeup away with a paper towel.

Outside of your trailer, you found at least half of the Amis waiting for you to go grab some pizza while forming a wall to shield a newly caffeinated Daniel from your accusatory eyes. "I just left my cup unattended for a second!" George said quickly. You didn't know if you should laugh or yell at them, but you decided you were too tired to do either, so you simply took his hands and walk with the boys to the minivans the studio had hired for your transportation.

Eating pizza after having barely washed the makeup off of your face and only having a few hours to sleep after? You knew you were going to break out, but that was a tomorrow's problem.

Perhaps it was the magic that gravitated around Aaron that made you look back to see him, walking several feet behind the lot of you and clearly immersed on his thoughts. What you did next wasn't exactly a conscious decision, but it felt as natural as if it were.

"Hey, Tveit," you smiled, stopping before him. He looked surprised for a second, since he hadn't heard you approach him, but then smiled softly at you.

"Hello, Y/L/N," he said back, looking at you with those piercing eyes of him.

"We're going to grab a bite, wanna come?" You asked with a bright smile, one so cute that made it hard for him to say no.

"I don't know, it's late..." he said with half a smile.

"Did you know that pizza wasn't invented until the late half of the 18th century," you said, persistently, making him raise an eyebrow at the random fact, "that means all of our characters died without having ever eaten pizza. Shouldn't we, in order to honor them, do the things they never got to do?"

Aaron tried as hard as he could to fight back a smile at your argument. He had heard from the other guys about your occurrences and funny yet charming way with words, but he still hadn't had a chance to delight himself with it all too much. Maybe you were both too busy, maybe he wasn't as good as he liked to think to break the ice and Alistair had beat him to it.

He was practically convinced already, but still you added, "come on, Enjolras is still going to be here tomorrow morning... er, today a little less morning." You corrected checking the time on your wrist watch.

He was tired and not really hungry, but sill he nodded and followed you to the exit, where the rest of your friends cheered upon his joining.

Thankfully, the place Fra Fee knew was not too far away from the hotel, because none of you would have managed to walk too much after the day you'd had. Pulling a couple of tables together with the help of a waitress who pretended not to be a little starstruck, all of you sat down and ordered. You personally tried to ignore the way Eddie gave you his sit so that you would end up sat next to Aaron.

After ordering three large pizzas and some lemonade, and having grudgingly remembered that you couldn't order a beer or anything of the sort, you resumed your chattery. You soon found that, while you weren't the only theatre actress on the room, you were the only one who had never been on a film before. Still, that didn't mean your previous work had gone unnoticed.

"I was really excited to meet Y/N," Eddie commented on Daniel's side, "because I went to see her in The Phantom of The Opera, in London and I was" he made the gesture of his head blowing up, making you laugh.

"Yes, I knew I had seen you somewhere! You're Christine Daaé!" George exclaimed, interrupting the bite he was about to give to his pizza.

"Didn't you say on the first table reading that your dream role is Esmeralda, from the Hunchback?" Aaron perked up, making you blush a little.

"Esmeralda, Christine and Eponine," Alistair numbered, only giving you time to nod, "are you planning on becoming the Holy Trinity of French Theater?"

"I'll be able to say the Holy Trinity of French Theater died in my arms!"

You almost spilled your lemonade at the exclamation, unable to contain your laughs, very much like everyone else on the table. You didn't mean for your face to be as red as it was in that moment, but you couldn't help it when everyone seemed to be so interested in your past work. Despite attention being your line of work, you didn't know how to handle it that good.

It was when Daniel's adrenaline burnt off, as you had predicted, and he was found too tiresd to even keep his head up that you came back to the hotel, with the quiet company of Aaron, who had also offered to take the young boy back to his room. You were both in silence, though it was not an awkward one, it just wasn't necessary to talk to enjoy the other's company.

"We're getting a cow," he said suddenly, when you were approaching the entrance of the hotel.

"What?" You asked with a confused smile.

"We're getting a cow, on the set, tomorrow," he clarified grinning, "she will be there for the scenes of the barricade."

"Why would a cow be on a barricade?" You questioned with a laugh, opening the door for Aaron, since he was carrying Daniel, and receiving a little thank you in return. "Not that I'm complaining."

He laughed in return and followed you to the elevator, making sure neither the young boy nor the jacket he had put over him fell from his embrace. The cow thing had just been to start conversation and be able to ask what he really wanted to know, although he was a little pumped up about the cow.

"Do you want to do what Alistair said?" He asked curiously, "About being the Holy Trinity of French Theater, it is."

"I had never thought about it that way, but it sounds quite nice," you answer thoughtfully. "Though, I believe I would have to play Eponine on a stage, rather than a set to really earn that title."

"You're not liking movie making so far?" He asked somewhat amused, specially when you whipped your head to look at him with wide eyes.

"No! That's not what I mean," you talked so fast you nearly stumbled through your words, but the kindness on his eyes made you sigh and calm down. "This has been amazing so far and I would never underestimate the huge effort it takes to make one of these. I mean, I've only been doing this for a couple days and I'm already beyond exhaustion. And yet it has been wonderful, the set and the preparation and just seeing all the work it implies is... unbelievable."

You knocked three time on the door, to see Daniel's mother not two seconds later. Aaron had been worried that maybe she would be concerned and even a little mad at how late her son was coming back, but you had been texting her throughout the extra hours of shooting and to let her know you were going to take him to eat something before coming back to the hotel.

She kindly thanked you both, took Daniel (who was still sound sleep) on her arms and gave Aaron his jacket back, to then close the door. Without saying much, he walked you to your own room, prompting you to continue.

"Where was I? Oh, yeah! So filming a movie is... I'm running out of adjectives, but it's really great," he chuckled slightly, "but I don't think it can top the feeling of being on the theater," you sighed dreamily.

"On stage, there is no take two, the things you're doing can only be done once. There's..." your tongue ran through your lips, an action Aaron found almost mesmerizing, as you tried to find the words to describe the thing you loved the most in the world. "There's this feeling, when the show is about to start, the lights dim, the overture starts and you get goosebumps and you heart starts thumping at the moment you come on stage, there's something about that moment being unrepeatable and having the eyes of the crowd on you, the adrenaline is just... is like the identity line that divides the actor from their character disappears and in that moment you're not quite them, but you're not you, you're just..." you let out a breath at the inability to find the word and, for a moment, you worried you might have bored him with your rambling, but he had that bliss over his face, the one only a theatre actor knows and has, that told you he knew exactly what you're talking about.

The next morning, back on set and with your costumes again covering your backs, Aaron found himself so hypnotized by the sight of you rehearsing with Amanda his tea got cold and was utterly scared when Eddie's palm fell onto his back, dragging him out of his day dream.

"Is this the part when the Phantom is stalking Christine?" George asked jokingly, making Aaron roll his eyes.

For someone who made so much fun of him for becoming Enjolras, he had certainly developed Grantaire's mocking nature.

"She's really talented," the blonde man answered nonchalantly, drinking from his tea and making a face when he found out the drink was cold.

"I see," Eddie said handing him his tea, "are you seeing our dear Y/N under a new light?"

Was he? It would be a lie to say he didn't come back to his room with you occupying every single one of his thoughts, his heart fluttering who had managed to put his passion for theatre in words. Had his hands always became a little shaky around you? Yes. But today it was even worse.

Today, your voice giving life to Eponine's thoughts and emotions could make his cheeks blush or bring tears to his eyes in a matter of a second. Today, you walked around with a strange light over you, one that didn't allow him to look away while, at the same time, reprehended him for staring. Today, you were more than an artist, an actress. You were something more than human.

"Nonsense," he replied stubbornly, "I have always known how talented she is."

Before he could get a sarcastic comment or a snide yet friendly remark, the three men's chatter was interrupted by the two previously mentioned ladies rehearsing The Robbery, one of the scenes you planned on filming that day.

"It's the police! Disappear! Run for it!" Your strong soprano voice cut all chattery in one swift motion. "It's Javert!"

He probably held his breath for as long as you held the note. Once you opened your eyes, you seemed a little embarrassed at all the eyes on you, but Aaron didn't understand just what did you have to be embarrassed about.

Eddie shook his shoulder, "breathe, mate!"

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