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maiverie · 2 years

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triage — ft. lee heeseung (chapter IV)

you try to teach the nerd how to date.

synopsis: heeseung is not, by any measure, date-able. he’s dorky, he’s nerdy, and he does this weird thing where he snorts loudly every time he laughs. in fact, he loves everything that normal people are allergic to — computer science, collecting rare comic books, and birdwatching on the weekend.

given that you two have obviously nothing in common, you find yourself utterly flabbergasted when you receive a letter in your locker, on which heeseung has written, "hi. will you please teach me how to date?"

MASTERLIST HERE !

kayla’s playlist (@/miiiwaa) ♡ my shitty og playlist . tags : #.*triage .

TAGLIST

@enhyflirt @dreamyenskz @icedcoffeesunwoo @ssolari @skazoo @jjunis @heejake-en @koroktsuya @jeongwins @tinykoi-s @en-boyz @soobin-chois @blessed-sky @jhyunieee @kisswon @vbxrin @cosmicsunghoon @bloomedberry @jungwonielove @miiiwaa @jungwoniee @lhsng @missharubear @deonuism @sarahxy537 @bambisgirl @hrrhmay-primaryblog @yeonzzun @msxflower @sunsunu @jangwonie @sweetjaemss @seungstarss @tokyoflies @solelyenha @softforqiankun @goodforgyu @va1ry @taekbokki @ashxxkook @moon-gyus @jakeified @markleeisdabestdrug @wccycc @viagumi @pisss111 @outrologist @fairfairee @hiqhkey @ctrlemis

chapter four

word count: 6.5k | navigation: previous / next / MASTERLIST warnings: swearing, (verbal) bullying

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“can i consider this my first real date?”

you feel your stomach twist and your heart begin to race, because while you must have convinced yourself that you were far beyond the stage of craving romance — you’re not.

you want it. you want romance. you want this romance, you want the one with the smiles and the giggles and the clumsy ballroom dancing and ice creams at a park and foam moustaches from nice cafés around town. you desperately want this kind of romance, but you want it with heeseung.

because you’ve realised that while you’re a sunset, heeseung is a sunrise.

the kind of sunrise that rises during dawn; one that touches everything around it with a golden glow and brightens any room to the standards of heaven.

he makes everything around him glow.

even you.

he makes even you feel like you can glow.

“you… you want to consider me your first real date?” you mutter, disbelieving of his words.

“well, yeah.” he blushes, eyes cast to the side as he rubs the nape of his neck. “so... so i can brag about you...”

brag?

the rest of his sentence trickles off, but this is the point where your stomach mangles into a knot.

the thing about glow is that there must be darkness to begin — and if there’s anything your friendship with heeseung has shown you, it’s that you have so much darkness you’ve never been courageous enough to face.

after all, heeseung is far removed from the life you’re accustomed to.

brag?

there is nothing about you worth bragging about.

you’ve spent years indulging in the exhilaration of danger and chaos, mistaking it for fulfilment and happiness. in your darkest days, you found shreds of pleasure in late night parties, cigarettes and blunts, and shallow friendships you always secretly knew deepened the void in your soul.

but heeseung is good. he is pure-hearted, and honest, and sweet, and so, so kind.

so as you sit here in heeseung’s car, faced with the realisation that you are dark and he is light, you can’t help but disintegrate into tears.

you begin sobbing.

your darkness unravels from its knot — every fissure, every fracture, and every tiny splinter that traces your soul is exposed bare. you reveal your innermost insecurities to heeseung, crying because you feel undeserving of all the kindness he’s shown you.

tonight’s wedding date was one of the best nights of your life. it felt ethereal, like a movie brought to life or your favourite song played live and just for you. it was fun. too fun; the kind that makes it painfully obvious that you must eventually float back to earth and be dragged to reality. you cry and cry, guilt and misery seizing your throat. you don’t deserve him, because while he admires you like a goddess, you are nothing but damaged goods with skeletons and dust in her closet.

the silence that hangs in the air is paralysing.

this must be a long time coming, because more sobs erupt from you than you thought possible — how long have you been holding in your misery?

or, perhaps you should have seen this coming — after all, there was always a voice that echoed in your subconscious each time you witnessed your shitty friends do shitty things. or when you’d wake up on a sunday morning and stare at the ceiling and contemplate the way you’ve wasted another night mindlessly partying. or when ryujin or taehyun exchanged malicious words about your classmates and you never said a thing until heeseung came along.

he must be terribly stunned by your reaction, but you are so inconsolably wretched that you don’t notice he’s exited the driver’s seat. in fact, heeseung has already dashed around to the other side of the car. he opens the door on your side, instantly wrapping you into an embrace that tucks your face into the crook of his neck.

warm. heeseung is warm.

“i-i’m so sorry!” he squeaks. you inhale the scent of his soft cologne, while his warmth oozes into you and softens your heart. he doesn’t understand the reason behind your tears, and instead frantically pats your hair in an attempt to comfort you. “a-are you okay? ah, right— no, you’re obviously not okay... i’m… i’m so sorry. was it me? did i make you cry? whatever it is, i’m so, so sorry, okay?”

you sob harder.

why is he apologising?

and why is he so goddamn warm?

with your proximity, you can feel the pounding inside heeseung’s chest. his heart is hammering. he must be nervous, you think, because you’ve always held yourself with a high chin and a strong resolve.

is he disappointed that you are not as confident and self-assured as you seem?

or has he seen through you all this time?

truthfully, what makes you more miserable is that his warmth and touch are ridiculously comforting. you melt into his arms, wrapping yours around his back to pull him in closer. he’s like a sun that doesn’t burn.

he’s not fire, he’s just warmth.

“d-do…” his whisper as unsung as a feather in rain, “…do you want ice cream? or… or cookies? or… um… books? i-i really don’t kno—”

his kind offers only make you sob harder. he truly is the personification of a sunrise, isn’t he? he’s bright, he’s warm, and with his presence, you find a sort of clarity you’ve been seeking all your life.

“i-i—”

“it’s okay, it’s okay,” he shushes you, noticing the way you choke on your words. he rubs circles on your back, then strokes your hair, then pulls you in close and squeezes his cheek against the side of your head, enchanting you with his comfort and intimacy. seconds and minutes pass as you hug him as tightly as you can, indulging in another one of your selfish desires.

one more time, you think.

you could afford to be selfish just one more time.

you and heeseung never spoke about that night again.

the next time you saw him, you knew by the look in his eyes that he wanted to ask if you were okay. however, hesitant to admit your innermost insecurity about not being good enough for him, you gave him a simple smile and he never pushed any further.

from then, you let yourself enjoy simple pleasures with heeseung, and together, you embraced the aspects of your life you loathed most. you improved. you started studying again after he began tutoring you. you focused in class, read books, slept early, and rid yourself of all the bad influences in your life. you flourished and bloomed and slowly, with each tiny achievement you amassed across a few weeks, became more and more confident that you weren’t so bad after all.

it’s funny, because you’d once promised to teach heeseung how to date, without knowing that he’d teach you how to heal. now, you realise that these two come hand in hand. perhaps the reason you never let yourself settle down with a boy was because you’d never learned to heal first.

and because of this, you fall a little harder and harder for him each day.

you’re not sure it’s even love — but whatever it is, it exists and you feel it vibrate along your bones. and that’s enough for you to know it’s there, even if most of your affections are hidden in shadows.

you might not deserve him, but you allow yourself to admire him in secrecy. you collect little memories and store them inside precious jars inside your heart. you watch him during the day and think about him during the night. you watch the way he scrunches up his shoulders when he laughs and the way his eyes sparkle when he talks about his mom. like a broken record, you replay every kind deed he does for you and roll around in your bed, giddy and blushing at the memory of every time your hands accidentally touched. you become absorbed in an innocent, pure love you hadn't thought could be possible for you.

however, you know better than to keep him to yourself. after all, with each step to becoming a better person, you understand he is leaps and bounds out of your league. so, despite the way it makes your heart ache, you continue to teach heeseung.

in the same way he teaches you how to heal, you continue to teach him how to date. you accompany him on fake dates and show him how to approach random strangers with confidence. you teach him how to dress, how to hold a conversation, what to do at the end of the date, how to make a girl swoon, and finally, how to recognise when they’re in love with him.

despite the fact that it makes your heart uneasy, you teach him the final lesson.

HOW TO DATE: LESSON 3 — only ever date people that are in your league. otherwise, you’re just setting yourself up for failure.

unbeknownst to you, this lesson is the very reason why heeseung’s heart is uneasy, too.

because he’s wondering the exact same thing.

is he good enough for you?

“i really think you should go, heeseung.”

“really?”

“really.”

it’s 5pm on a friday night, and the two of you are inside his bedroom — you, sitting on the edge of his bed with one leg folded over the other, and him nervously pacing around the room. he’s been like this ever since you both had returned from school.

your eyes follow each of his movements, even if that means he goes up and down the room — up and down and up and down and up and do—

“i-i… i don’t know.” he mumbles, gnawing on the nail of his thumb. you watch in amusement as he suddenly halts and huffs his cheeks. “i just… well, i’ve never really been to a party before.”

your eyes almost bulge out their sockets. “wait, really? never?”

he offers you a bashful look, straightening his school uniform. “n-never. is that bad?”

not bad, just surprising, though the more you think about it, not very surprising at all. it’s lee heeseung after all, the boy with his nose stuck so far into books that the tip of it probably has ink stains. “of course not!” you wave your hands, hoping to quell his anxiety.

heeseung shoots you an uneasy look, so you stand and gently clasp his wrist, dragging him to sit with you on the bed. the two of you land on it with a soft thud and you hold one of his shoulders in reassurance.

“seriously, you should go.” you say with a soft smile. “it’ll be really fun!”

“you think?” he winces.

“yeah!” you nod enthusiastically. “i can help you pick out an outfit and everything. you’ll be the hottest guy there. girls…” you try to bite back the uncomfortable tug at your heart, “... will be all over you. you’ll have, like, four dates to attend the next day.”

“four dates?” he stares at you, puzzled. “that doesn’t seem very time-efficient—”

“it’s a hyperbole, heeseung. shut up.” you cut him off with a roll of the eyes. he giggles from your reaction, softening your expression. “in all seriousness, you should go. you know, my first party was crazy fun, like basically i ended up drinking a little too much and i woke up the next day with this video of me running down the road half-nak—”

he blinks.

“—uh, nauseated. half-nauseated. i was very sick, so i walked all the way home, totally sober and safe and normal! yes. i did just that.”

you turn away and cough awkwardly, forgetting about how unhinged most of your party stories seem to end. regardless, it really is your sincerest hope that heeseung goes — it’ll be good for him to go out and socialise with people that aren’t you; he’s obviously getting better and better at making friends with his classmates if he’s already received his first party invitation.

“i-i don’t know… i’m not really going to know anybody there…”

“i’ll pick you up afterwards!” you grin, making the edges of his lips tug upward. then, you reach over and stroke his head, lowering yours to coo at him sarcastically. “and make sure you’re safe and all tucked into bed ‘cause you’re being such a baby.”

“b-baby?” his eyes widen while he bites back a smile, blush trickling into his cheeks. his actions make your eyes quickly dart to his lips before you tell yourself to stop thinking about kissing him. “hm…” he taps his chin with a restrained smile, before his eyes brighten and his head snaps up at you. “why don’t you come with me?”

you stare at him like he’s speaking a foreign language. “what? no!”

“why not?” he whines, nudging you with his shoulder. “you said it yourself! parties are fun!”

“well yeah, but, i’m kinda doing this thing where i stop drinking, heeseung!” you laugh, in reference to your recent life deep-cleanse. you’ve cut out your friends and self-sabotaging, which most definitely includes your drinking and partying.

“you don’t have to drink!” heeseung beams. “it’ll be fun. i-i think i’d be a lot more comfortable if you were there…”

shit.

you feel yourself waver. truthfully speaking, you do miss partying, and you’re certain it’d be a hundred times better with heeseung by your side. perhaps it’d be good for you to keep a look out for heeseung; you know how most of these events tend to go. if they’re anything like the ones your friends used to host, one or two poor suckers almost always walk home with an embarrassing story that gets echoed into the hallways. there was no chance in hell you’d let that happen to your sweet boy.

“but i wasn’t invited.” you frown. ironically, your popularity has taken quite the hit — apparently, having your ex-best friend ryujin spread nasty rumors isn’t painting the nicest picture of you with the rest of the student body. you don’t really care for it, but you would certainly find it weird to show up to a party nobody expects you to attend.

“who cares? if they kick us out, we can hang out afterwards.” heeseung beams, his eyes crinkling with his smile. “late night bike rides?”

you can’t help but grin back, feeling the heavy feeling in your chest lift. late night bike rides — just him, you, and the chilly breeze as his bicycle courses its away down the pave way.

“okay… fine.”

truthfully, a part of you hopes this party doesn’t even happen.

unbeknownst to you, a part of heeseung is hoping the exact same thing.

apparently, picking out an outfit for heeseung is not easy when you disagree on his chosen tee.

“but people love superheroes.” heeseung pouts. “that’s why they’re called super. because they’re super cool.”

“dude, if you say another word, i will literally shove this shirt down your throat.” you growl, yanking the superhero tee out his hands and tossing it across the room. his head follows the direction it flies and he watches it land with a soft thud. “that shirt is an abomination and deserves to be burned.”

“aw,” he slumps. “but… that was iron man.”

“more like, iron letting anybody wear that outside.” you snort from your pun before your smile quickly vanishes. fuck. did you just laugh at your own joke? is heeseung making you… lame? is this who you are now? “okay… anyway.” you shudder at that thought. “i picked this outfit for you. come look!”

heeseung stamps his lips together, waddling closer toward you as he peers into his own closet. you quickly retrieve the white dress-shirt you’ve chosen and the cream white sweater you’re hoping to layer it with. across the sweater are thick black vertical lines and a front print that reads stray souls pray for us, among other ominous words you hope will suffice in creating an edgy aura. “i thought maybe we could pair this with some black jeans, a necklace and chuck on a bunch of fake piercings. you’ll look emo, but at least you won’t look horny for a man made out of metal.”

“hey! that’s so disrespectful to iron man!”

“whatever man,” you shove all the clothes in his hands while shuffling toward the bedroom door so you can leave. “i’m going to get changed in the bathroom. just tell me when you’re finished dressing.”

you place your hand on the door knob before halting. oh, right!

whirling around, you rush for your backpack in the corner.

“by the way,” you grin, unzipping your backpack and reaching into it to retrieve something. heeseung stares at you curiously, only to find himself wide-eyed when you yank out a small box from your bag.

“this is for you.” you excitedly grin. “i saw it the other day in a store and it reminded me of you.”

his eyes instantly round in surprise. “this is for me?”

“yeah,” you smile. “i know i told myself no more shoplifting but i couldn’t resist it.”

he gasps loudly. “wait, y-you stole this?” he shrieks nervously, eyes bouncing between you and the box.

you chuckle easily. “well, yeah. i mean, only ‘cause i forgot my purse.”

“i could’ve paid it for you!”

“but then it wouldn’t have been a gift.” you shake your head. “just take it, heeseung. i’ll, uh… drop off the money to them tomorrow.”

he presses his lips into a line, eventually succumbing to your compromise. now, he finally examines the box in his hands, peeking curiously. “but… what is it?” he asks, slowly peeling the wrapping away.

“a jigsaw puzzle!” you explain excitedly. “i just thought—i don’t know, you once mentioned you and your mother like to do jigsaw puzzles together, and… i thought this picture was really pretty.”

he stares at first before a smile instantly sweeps his features. “wow, thank you so much!” heeseung beams, and the sparkle in his eyes makes you feel unimaginably elated. his smile is so damn pretty but it’s even prettier when you’re the reason for it. “so what’s the picture?”

“just some landscape photo.” you mutter, too embarrassed to admit that it’s a sunset. something about admitting this inside joke is frankly a bit embarrassing — what if he’s long forgotten about it? what if this is entirely one-sided?

heeseung giggles as he opens the box and peers at the jigsaw pieces inside it. “ah! a sunset of course.” he bobs his head. “a sunset from miss sunset.” he smiles affectionately, “i love it so much.”

you smile and nod your head once, desperately containing your excitement. can’t show too much, and all at once.

he then captures your attention by rummaging through the pieces and yanking one of them out of it. “here!” he holds it out for you, causing you to stare in bewilderment.

“what?”

“keep it.” he urges.

“but… then you can’t finish your puzzle.” you blink.

“that’s the point!” he giggles. “so you can have an excuse to meet my mom one day.”

you’re nervously staring at your reflection in the mirror, adjusting the way the clothes sit on your body. you had quickly come home and back to heeseung’s to grab a change of clothes, but now you fear that you’d chosen the wrong ones.

or perhaps there was never a “wrong” outfit to choose because they’re all horribly inappropriate. it’s infuriating dealing with your past self — why the hell are all your skirts so damn short?

perhaps you’ve been too focused on dealing with heeseung’s closet to realise that you need a change of your own. the only party attire you own is everything you used to wear, which is a gaudy collection of mini skirts, cropped tops, distressed denim and tops that borderline lingerie. for fuck’s sake, you curse to yourself, fidgeting with the outfit you’re already embarrassed at the thought of heeseung seeing.

you’ve chosen a black mini skirt and a matching sleeveless halter top that knots at the back of your neck, accentuating your shoulders and drawing attention to the bare expanse of your back. this was always one of your go-to outfits — admittedly, it was a crowd favourite, but only because it flatters all your nicest assets and treads the line between flirty and fun.

dreading how heeseung will react on seeing this, you release your hair so it flows down your back and adjust your makeup, forcing a smile at yourself to see your red-painted lips stretch.

“don’t come in; i look stupid.” heeseung mutters when he hears you just outside his bedroom door, so you peer inside before opening it widely with a big grin. seated on the edge of the bed, he turns toward you at the door and opens his mouth to speak before freezing when he sees you.

“w-woah.”

you feel your entire face burn like metal under the sun, because heeseung continues to stare, eyes rounded and mouth slightly ajar. “sorry,” you blush profusely, brushing your hair so that it conceals as much of your top as possible. “fuck, my, uh, closet isn’t very wholesome and so—”

“n-no!” he cries, waving his hands around frantically. “i-i wasn’t thinking that! i promise!”

you stamp your lips into an awkward smile and trail across the room.

“the jewellery fits you really well, by the way.” you comment, appreciating the way his necklace and earrings elevate the overall badass aura this outfit has given him. the sweater makes his shoulders look wide, while the dress-shirt collar that peeks out from beneath it makes him look fashionable. these jeans would look good with some boots, you think, making a mental note of what already exists in his closet.

“your hair looks kinda dumb though.” you scoff playfully, standing in front of him now. “i’ll fix it.”

“n-no, it’s oka—”

he gulps, leaning back as you slide between the space between each of his legs and reach over to brush his hair with your fingers. bit by bit, you gently untangle any knots and use small amounts of styling cream to get them in the right place. it causes you to occasionally lean in to reach the ends at the back, so he turns his face to the side in an attempt to avoid contact with your chest. “a-ah… um, m-maybe you should—”

“i think it’ll look really nice like this.” you comment absentmindedly, without realising that you’ve completely enveloped him with your scent.

you’re close.

you’re too close, he thinks, but you don’t seem to realise it — truthfully, you’re a little too focused to have heard heeseung, nor the way his hand is slowly resting on your waist.

then, you feel his fingers brush against the bare skin of your waist just above your skirt, and your whole body freezes.

he’s touching you. heeseung is touching you.

every inch of your skin that he touches sends shivers down your spine, but before you can begin to process what’s happening, he gently pushes you away by a grip on your hips.

“stop.” he mumbles, head hanging low. “please stop, okay?” you stumble back when he pushes you a little further. you stand, dumbfounded and stunned, his fingers burning every inch of the skin he’s touched like a scathing chisel.

did you do something wrong?

is he uncomfortable with you?

how close is too close?

“i-i can do it myself.” he mumbles, desperately concealing his flushed face before rushing toward his bathroom, so quick that you stare off at the absent space left on his seat on the bed.

for the first time, the car ride is silent. you’d like to have the courage to speak up, but the last time anybody had ever spoken was when you’d thanked him for giving you the handbag you almost forgot to bring along. he’d gotten red, dipped his head and muttered a quiet you’re welcome, and that in itself felt like the death of the conversation.

during the car ride to the party, you fiddle with the hem of your mini skirt, plagued with a re-run of what happened in his bedroom. perhaps you’re getting a little too comfortable with him; or perhaps he just doesn’t need your guidance anymore.

now you just feel a moron.

perhaps you shouldn't have decided to come to this party after all.

“s-sorry.” heeseung finally squeaks, so you whip your head toward the driver’s seat. he seems to be nervously clutching the steering wheel with both eyes drilling the road ahead. “i’m sorry.”

what?

“what do you mean?” you frown, though the tension in your body dissipates now that you’re talking again.

“i’m really sorry.” heeseung gnaws on his lips, his body tense, and his eyes unable to be peeled away from the road. “i just… y-you’re, like, so pretty and everything about you is just... you make me really nervous, you know? i’m sorry i pushed you away, i just kind of… i— nevermind.” his entire face reddens while he huffs his cheeks heftily. “y-you just… you look really, um.. wow. you look really, really incredible. and th-thank you for fixing my hair...”

incredible?

he thinks you look really, really incredible?

you instantly smile, feeling your heart swell with giddiness. not just incredible, and not just really incredible — but really, really incredible. you bite back a grin, quickly turning to the passenger window in an attempt to conceal your utter delight. you feel like a giddy middle schooler.

“it’s okay.” you whisper. “i’m just really, really glad we’re talking again.”

heeseung is many things. a smart boy, a loving son, but above everything else, a horrible, horrible drunk.

it doesn’t help that three hours in, you’re one of the only sober people surrounded by drunk morons. it felt like just a minute ago when the two of you were nervously standing outside yuna’s door, ushered inside and offered various drinks (which you pawned off to heeseung).

you glare at him from your seat halfway on the stairs, watching him through the balusters as he chats up lia. she’s been giggling uncontrollably ever since she found out that heeseung is (thanks to you!) super hot now.

fucking bitch.

she’s been playfully touching heeseung and laughing at all his jokes all night. he’s been blushing and timidly telling her more of his probably dumb as fuck chemistry jokes.

truthfully, you don’t even need the vodka — the burning sensation of jealousy inside your chest is enough to keep you flushed. thing is, you can’t even be mad — after all, you’re the one that taught him all the skills to flirt and you’re the one that even encouraged him to come to this lame ass party anyway.

you want to be able to enjoy this party, you really do, but it’s hard when your mind is going haywire. even a party like this — one inside yuna’s spacious house, decked with bottomless drinks, endless entertainment and rnb music — you can’t seem to take your mind off your favourite boy.

huffing in annoyance, you clench your jaw and take a sip of your stupid, cold ass water. water is such a dumb drink. who even likes drinking water? water is dumb and this party is dumb and heeseung is so fucking dumb.

“you look like you’re going to murder someone.”

you look up over your shoulder, past your mascara-laden lashes. standing a few stairs above you is ryujin, with her brows lifted and her hands on her hips. you instantly scowl and groan, turning back around.

“i’m not in the mood.” you tell your ex-best friend. “get lost.”

“bitch, this is my party and you’re telling me to get lost?”

you snap your head back up to stare at her in confusion, only to then connect the dots. right, you almost forgot — she’s friends with yuna.

she watches in amusement as you make the realisation, trodding down the steps to take the seat beside you. okay, this is officially weird — since when were you and ryujin on talking terms?

“your party’s shit.” you hiss at her, thinking about heeseung and a girl you might very soon rip the limbs off. she’s got her hand on heeseung’s arm and he’s blushing profusely because of it. childishly, you make note of where she’s touched so you know never to touch him there ever again. “it’s so fucking lame.”

“honey, you’ve been staring at that little dweeb all night. as if i’m not going to know the only reason you’re pissy is because you’re jealous.” ryujin snorts.

you glare at her again, making her lift her hands up in defence. “sorry, slip of tongue — not dweeb, just… boy. although whatever experiment you’ve been doing on him seems to be working. he’s like… highkey hot now.” she flashes a humorous smile. you press your lips together, unimpressed, instantly returning your gaze back to heeseung.

what the hell? they’re on the couch now?

“whatever.” you mumble, swirling the straw inside your cup. you’re well-accustomed to lying; it’s something that comes natural to you, but for some reason, you don’t even bother to hide your disdain for heeseung and lia.

she’s not right for him.

“taehyun’s coming to pick me up later if you wanna hang with us. we’re probably just going to chill at his house.” she grins.

“easy pass.” you scoff, thinking about the way she’s treated you. “and can you stop talking to me like we’re friends? we’re not, so get lost.”

ryujin offers you a wounded look. “dude, what’s your fucking issue? why are you always acting like you’re better than us? stop being such a pompous bitch.”

you instantly stand looking back at her with a furious gaze. “i’m leaving. don’t talk to me.”

heeseung doesn’t know love.

he knows many things, like the circumference of various planets and enough digits of pi to bore a whole party to sleep, but he doesn’t know love. after all, he’s never experienced anything remotely close to it.

lately, however, he’s been feeling like he’s inching closer and closer to the real thing.

and it’s all thanks to you.

your dating lessons have clarified a lot of what he always felt unsure about. he’s not the best with people and definitely not with girls, but you bring the clarity he’s always been searching for.

however, engaging in this conversation with lia has thrown out everything he thought he learned about girls.

are conversations always this… boring?

“yeah. isn’t school the worst?” lia giggles.

“haha, yes… i hate school…” heeseung nervously laughs, his smile fading away by the second. how can school be the worst when it’s the best?

he doesn’t mean to be rude, but he’s not having a great time. sitting here on the couch with lia is an experience he’s trying to push himself to have, but frankly the conversation just doesn’t run as smoothly as it does with you. besides, he’s definitely not the only person that’s obviously bored, because every time heeseung opens his mouth to share another fun fact about light bulbs, he can literally see the light in lia’s eyes vanish.

she’s not really having the best time either, yet somehow she’s becoming more touchy by the minute.

it’s contradictory. he doesn’t understand what she’s thinking. and this is not a problem he faced when going on all those fake dates with you.

he’s really, really confused and when he feels this way, there’s only one person that smooths out the mangled mess in his brain — you.

as he quickly tears his eyes away from lia and surveys the area for a glimpse of you, he finds himself more anxious when he can’t. miss sunset, miss sunset, miss sunset… your name repeats in his head like a drum. you’re truly the only thing in the world that makes sense (other than science, of course), and now that the effects of alcohol are beginning to afflict him, he’s finding it more and more hard to be without you.

so he quickly excuses himself from lia and springs to his feet.

“hey! b-but heechul, i thought we could maybe… you know, leave this party together?” she smiles, brows lifted in anticipation.

heeseung blinks. “my name is heeseung.”

her face falls. “oh.”

“i mean, unless my parents are dyslexic and read my birth certificate wrong,” he jokes, snorting at first until he realises she’s not laughing. that’s when his smile instantly vanishes and he dips his head low in shame. maybe he’s only funny to miss sunset. “s-sorry.” he blushes, “i-i really have to go. m-maybe i’ll see you around?”

lia huffs before sighing. “okay, i guess.”

scratching the nape of his neck, he whirls around and begins his search for you.

as he traverses his way through the crowds of people and dodges the spillage of the drinks in their hands, he eventually discovers that he’s making loops around the first storey. ah, he reminds himself, there’s a second storey! he climbs the stairs, taking note of the cups that have been left up along it. there are two — one of which has a familiar lipstick stain he’s pretty sure you’d worn.

he’d know.

after all, he’s been staring at your lips all day.

sparing some time, he neatly stacks the cups together and brings them with him upstairs in search for a garbage container. as he reaches the second storey, he notices a few closed bedroom doors and one which is slightly ajar.

batting his lashes curiously, he hears distant chatter at the bedroom at the very end of the hallway. ignoring it, he walks right across the carpet, locating the bathroom. after discarding the trash, he takes a few minutes of examining his reflection (lia had ruined the hair you made look so pretty) before exiting the bathroom.

then he halts in his feet, because he hears a loud crash.

concerned, he bolts toward the bedroom at the end of the hallway and swings the door open, only to immediately regret his actions afterward.

because he’s just seen something he shouldn’t have.

standing beside the bed, ryujin and taehyun are tangled in each other’s arms. heeseung’s eyes immediately widen as their lips detach and they snap their heads over at him, equally as shocked as him.

oh no.

“oh, for fuck’s sake!” ryujin cries, shoving taehyun away from her as she glares ferociously at heeseung. “what the fuck are you doing here?”

heeseung slowly backs away. “s-sorry.” he raises both his hands, feeling regret and horror trickle inside of him. isn’t taehyun dating his cousin, minjeong? aren’t they both your friends? didn’t you and taehyun have a… thing? his brain hurts.

he continually backs away, before taehyun lunges toward him and yanks him in the bedroom.

“let’s have a little talk, you dweeb.”

“you’re hot. can i have your number?”

“look at me. does it look like i want to give you my number?” you stare at him, boring holes into his eyes until he’s uncomfortable and leaves. you’re not normally this mean when boys try to hit on you, but frankly you’ve had enough of this night.

after your fight with ryujin, you’d driven to a nearby convenience store to grab some snacks for heeseung.

you’d figured he’d be peckish after all that drinking. but now that you’ve returned to the party and the boy is nowhere to be seen (and neither is lia, by the way), you’ve come to a solution that’s driving you crazy.

they’re probably off making out somewhere.

upset, you hold your own pity party in the kitchen by making yourself some iced cola. man, the vodka bottle is looking awfully tempting, but once again you choose to honor your self-development.

however, as two hours pass, you find yourself more and more concerned that heeseung is not off doing what you think he’s doing. you verify this with lia, who states she hasn’t seen him for a while now. the growing concern eventually ruptures inside you and you drop everything to search for heeseung.

“heeseung?” you call as you shove your way through the house. “heeseung?”

you attempt to dial his number but your calls don’t go through. he never turns his phone off.

fuck.

“heeseung!” you shout as you meticulously scavenge the back and front yard. you become increasingly anxious that you’ve lost the boy — drunk and alone and with people you definitely don’t trust to take care of him. eventually, the time comes for when you decide to search the second storey, though your doubts are high.

when you’re at the foot of the stairs, your heart is hammering inside your chest. is he okay? it’s your one genuine concern, and it makes you furious at yourself for letting your jealousy get ahold of you. why the hell did you leave the party?

this is all your fault.

if anything happens to your boy, it will be all your fault.

climbing the stairs, you notice something odd. where the hell is your cup from before? there’s nobody here you know that would do any sort of cleaning, unless—

you sprint up the stairs and begin slamming open every door you see.

“heeseung?” you continuously echo into every room, finding silence on the receiving end. it’s almost unnerving, because if he’s not here then he’s not anywhere. it makes tears well in your eyes thinking about where he could be or if he’s feeling lost and scared.

that’s when you take notice of the remaining door at the end of the hallway.

“h-heeseung?” you approach the door, opening it.

the room is pitch dark, and at this time of night, the windows offer no shed of light. you see nobody on the bed, and though you almost close the door and leave, you halt at the sound of a soft whimper.

you freeze.

heeseung?

the room falls silent again, so you open the door a little wider. the light from your side now pours inside and you finally make out a figure sitting on the floor.

it’s slumped against the side of the bed, curled up and hugging its legs.

your heart falls into the pit of your stomach.

it’s heeseung.

and he’s crying.

“heeseung? oh my god.” you rush over toward him and fall to your knees, cupping his face in your hands as your chest swells with worry and distress. “are you okay? what happened? what’s wrong?”

your eyes dart everywhere across his features, taking in everything about his expression — his blood-shot eyes, the pink across the tip of his nose and his cheeks, and his tears streaming down his cheeks and now onto your fingers.

heeseung retracts from your touch and hiccups, dropping his face on his knees. at the cursory glance you’d made, you can tell he’s clearly intoxicated. he looks really unwell, but this is certainly not the result of just alcohol — he’s obviously upset about something.

“i-it’s me,” you attempt to placate him, placing a hand on his shoulder to rub his back before he flinches away from you.

“leave me alone.” he chokes out, his soft whisper jagged and broken. you stare in stunned silence, taken aback by his reaction. your head feels like it’s spinning.

“wh-what happened?” you question, mind racing as you attempt to fill in the blanks yourself. did someone hurt him? did someone say something to him? did—

your expression instantly darkens when you recall what had happened earlier. you’d hate to be right. you pray and pray and pray that this is a shot in the dark and your assumption is far too many steps ahead of reality.

“was it… ryujin?” you whisper, feeling your entire body tense.

at the sound of her name, you see him stiffen.

and it’s enough of an answer for you.

you feel fury thrash inside of you and compound in your core. your hands are shaky when you reach out to touch him but he instantly jerks away from you.

“she said something to you?” you whisper, shattered by this realisation.

he pauses before slowly nodding his head.

“just her?”

he shakes his head.

taehyun, that fucking rat bastard.

“i’ll fucking kill them.” you growl, standing up instantly. you’re livid. you can’t even begin to imagine what they’ve done to your boy, but you’re certain you won’t spare mercy. “i’ll beat the shit out of them.” you rush to leave, but heeseung grabs your hand before you can go anywhere.

“you can have your puzzle back.” your little sun says. “i don’t want it anymore.”

to be continued.

*taglist is open, just comment or send an ask :>

a/n: hahahahahaha im sorry IM SORRY it was gna happen sooner or later but anyways i am once again BEGGING for ur forgiveness for such a late update; since the next chapter is the FINAL chapter, i will try my best ot be rlly quick. within the next 2 weeks hopefully? 3? anyway idek how i feel abt this final product or w/e but ya girl is ~tired~ and she's very excited to finish this series <33 thank you guys SOSOSOSO MUCH for all the love across the few months it took me to write this. can’t believe we have one more chapter left :< triage & triage!hee have a special place in my heart hehe, so thanks for being a part of this journey <333 anyway pls do support me via liking + reblogging if u can !! :>

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kurosstuff · 1 year

Text

For scout♡ @knightofshadows78

Summary: this is a nightmare. He can't believe that he couldn't stop it

This is like real detailed- never done it so♡ hehe- also the very first time writing Zhongli please tell me of I did ok

Zhongli X GN reader: Loss

Warning(s): ANGST. No happy ending for anyone. Somewhat detailed death. Painful death(readers) reader has hair. Knife(heavily in the fic) blood. Lots of it- tortured death. Can you tell who the person who did it is? Hehe

Reader barely speaks in this- its really only told in Zhongli POV

The mortal world was confusing as it was interesting. Morax never really interacted with them. Zhongli, on the other hand- interacted with them on a daily bases. Blending in the fields of humans - pretending to be one was getting easier - but faking it all was hard still.

He knew the consequences of falling for a mortal. A human. He knew what he was getting into. That there would be no growing old together with you. He would watch you grow old and die - like all the other morals he can't help but care about - for. He made you aware of it. Both of you didn't care. You loved each other and that's all that matters.

"Dearest." He called out opening your shared house. He walked in, silently placing the bag down. Going into the living room, his eyes softened. It was a moment like this he truly adored. You sat in the living room pajamas on still. Hair barely combed through as you tiredly yawned, turning them on a page of a book he stored some place in the house long forgotten.

Glancing up sleep still swept your mind from your late nap. Closing the book you got up stretching with a satisfying pop going to Zhongli with a hug and a kiss hello

"Hello, my love," you hummed against his chest. He hummed in thought. Today was the day. All the preparations were set. As nervous as he was - he couldn't wait.

"Ready for date night, my dear?"

Holding onto his arm, he guided you towards a secluded area in the woods - a safe distance from any possible danger but private enough - this was a moment for only yours and his eyes to view only after all. He felt in his pocket and smiled. Remembering the box.

The crafting of the ring took much longer than he originally thought - creating something so delicate took more time and patience than he thought would happen. But he was happy with the outcome of the ring. The black and gold gems corresponding with your favorite gem was a beautiful mixture - like how his was the same but reversed - created mostly of your two favorite gems with the outlines of his was beautiful.

The dawn of the sunset hit the area wonderfully. Zhongli stared it was like falling in love with you all over again. Just like he thought the sun hit you in such a beautiful haze - gently engulfing you - embracing you with its warm gaze in such a romantic sense. Like a hue - a golden hue with red tints hitting your face - how it made your eyes shine brightly in made his heart pound even faster. He held the box tightly behind him - repeating the words he practiced for months for.

"Now im aware I saw this a lot. And it doesn't make it any less the truth. You are the only one I've ever wanted in my life. Forever"

He took a deep breath and kneeled down, clearing his throat to gain your attention

"Will you marry me?" Zhongli asked the ring in hand shun brightly in the sun- the love struck look in his eyes glistening with tears when you whispered a 'yes' he stood after putting the ring on you pulling you into him gently. To himself, he made a contract - as your husband, he will always protect you. No matter what.

The day ended with a blur drinks were spilled in all of the excitement. Zhongli convinced you to go to bed early to leave the planning of the wedding for tomorrow. On a full night's rest.

You agreed

It happened so fast that both of you started to get ready for bed before a couple of masked men attacked you both, somehow successfully knocking even Zhongli out. They took the chance they had- both your guards were down to excited for the marriage to think of who would be following close

When Zhongli

Zhongli kneeled beside you, his face cold glaring at the man in front of you both. He knew what was going to happen. He didn't want you to see what the man would do to him. The man would kill him in front of you. He can't bear losing his composer, not now. Not when you need him. The man walked around the table getting a large knife. Placing it on the table before turning to face the two of you.

He stood unmoving before a sick grin crept onto his face - walking towards you, zhongli, made himself look bigger, unafraid of the situation - he blinked when the man didn't turn towards him but you. That confusion turned to fear

"Oh, surpised?"

"let them go." He was left ignored dispite his yelling the masked man dragged you to the table a bit far from Zhongli. But enough to still see you clearly

"Wondering why I chose them over you Morax?"

He didn't look back. he just continued to tie the ropes around you, ignoring both your cries and yells. Finally, he stopped and leaned back straight. His back to Zhongli. He picked them the knife up. He turned

"I want this to hurt. So how about you be the one to do it. To start it off."

Seeing the confusion and fear in Zhonglis's eyes, he held the knife higher. The unspoken order didn't go unnoticed by either of you. The implications of what he wanted made your throat tighten - couldn't even get the words out

"Do it, Morax," the masked man spoke, dragging the knife against your shoulder with a deep hum. Morax kneeled bound together in front of you. "Ah ah. No, dont even try to escape. You break those ropes, and I break their neck." There were too many of them. Way to many for him to fight while protecting you from the man holding you in front of him.

"I can't hurt them-"

"Then I will"

"NO-"

With that began the screams. The blood. The horror in his face as the man ripped the knife clean out of your shoulder, smirking to himself "Oh wow! Look at that. That was almost too easy."

"ple- please stop," you sobbed, causing the man to strike the knife down agai

"NO NO PLEASE," Zhongli begged - he begged like he's never done so before. And he hasn't. He never needed to beg for anything being a god - an archon meant he could do anything. But why can't he now? Where did the Morax go.

"take me- PLEASE- you wanted me right? So just-"

"Who said I did this because of you?" The man stopped whipping the knife on your shirt clusmily cleaning your own blood off of you. "I have no interest in the Geo Archon. Never have never will." The masked man hummed in thought "well since your wondering. I'm doing this for a test. An experiment if you will."

"Part 1 worked. Getting you an archon themself to be knocked out?" Holding the knife, he smirked to himself. "Part 2 is seeing how affected a god can be if you take aw- well actually," he interrupted himself with a thought aloud.

"I could actually just show you" with a shrug and a deep strike down. Zhongli screamed, faced drenched with his own blood and tears - you fell with a slump blood seeping out of you - gurgling as you choked on your own blood. "When I leave. Release him. " Dropping the knife, the man turned walking out. The others followed. A cut to the ropes was all it took for him to bolt - not to your captures but to you.

"No no no please-" Zhongli repeated fear etched into his very soul- his heart breaking at the sight of you "Please hey - hey-" he repeated gently pulling you into him holding the wound on your stomach "your ok yeah? Just -" clearing his throat, he blinked the tears away as much as he could."Just stay awake, yeah?" Craddling you close to his body, he tried to think of what he could do - you weren't like him. Like anyone he's really encountered. He's been alive for so yet he still has no idea how to keep a human alive besides food and water. Morax has saved people. Millions and millions of people. All saved by other humans when he brought them to a group near by but. All life in Liyue was save with him sacred with him. The cost of being a God was as devastating as it was good. It wasn't anything fun he watched people he saved die still.

He reacted the same, but nothing would have stopped his rampage if you were to die. No one would get in his way until he-

"Zhongli," a weak voice broke him out of his trance. Holding you tighter, he leaned into your hand gently, his eyes refocusing on your slowly dimming ones. "I- I love you so much" you spoke- it obviously beginning to hurt. The look of tiredness almost outweighed how hurt you were "it- it's not your fau- lt" your voice slurred before closing to join those in a deep slumber

A scream escaped the man holding you - a heartbreaking sound. He's lost so many lives over the centuries - friends and loved ones alike but none as ever hurt as yours - he will never get to see your smile again - never get to hear your voice - he screamed until he couldn't anymore. Cried until he couldn't find it in him to cry anymore - his eyes stung - burned rage and despair filled him.

He will never get to see you walk down the aisle to him - kiss you. He will no longer be able to begin a family with you.

Along with your death - severed the contract he made with himself

Breaking a contract is a serious offense to the Archon himself- one fit for punishment dished out himself personally eachtime. Successfully ingrained in the minds of the mortals- forming such a thing isn't something to play with- even people doing sketchy things avoid such a agreement because of it.

This time, however. It was no normal person nor a mortal. The geo Archon God of all Contracts broke a contract he himself made. It's a punishment even worse than death itself. Clutching your body close to his, he couldn't stop sobbing. Begging for you - begging for forgiveness

A blinding light entered the room, yet he ignored it - ignored the burning pain of what was to come next. Voices naked the mortal ears boomed in his ears- head pounding. He continued to ignore them.

The light blinded so harshly that it itself started to burn. His skin crinkled - cracked. Burned even. Giving you a final kiss goodbye he closed his eyes and sighed. He'd face his consequences fully then after he'd hunt that murder down.

#zhongli x reader #genshin impact angst #angst #x reader angst #genshin x y/n #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact x you #zhongli x you

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theostrophywife · 2 years

Note

Per Lucien request. Please just make my boy have a wonderful and happy life. Thank you ❤️

lover.

author's note: when i tell y’all that lucien has me in an absolute chokehold… warning: smut under the cut.

“What are you thinking about, lover?”

Lucien chuckles softly, tracing his fingers down your spine with a fond smile. The two of you decided to take the day off from duties and responsibilities, opting to stay in bed all day having lazy sex and savoring the pleasure of each other’s presence. As the sun sets over the horizon, basking your bedchambers in its soft golden hue, your lover, your mate, the other half of your soul, stares at you with such intensity that you’re convinced he’s trying to commit every curve, scar, and freckle of yours to memory.

“I’m thinking about what I’m always always thinking about,” Lucien replies, pressing a soft kiss on your bare shoulder. “You, my love.”

You giggle. “What about me?”

The redhead tugs at your wrist, pulling you flush against him. Your hands travel down his solid chest, those sculpted abs, that trim waist that you loved wrapping your legs around. Perfect. Lucien was so fucking perfect.

“How lucky I am to have you as my mate. You’re beautiful. Smart. Strong,” his fingers trail down the curve of your hips. “And incredibly sexy.”

“Mmm,” you murmur as Lucien trails further down, cupping your perky ass in his large hand. “I think I’m the lucky one, baby. You’re so perfect. So good to me. I couldn’t have asked for a better mate.”

Lucien groans. “You know I can’t resist you when you talk like that.”

“You never have to resist me, Lucien. I’m yours for the taking.”

The grin on his face was sly, curving through those plush lips with foxlike mischief. “Wicked little fox. Do you know how badly I crave you every time we’re apart?” He cups your breasts, his lips hot and needy against your skin while you arch into his mouth. “You consume my entire being. My lover. My wife. My mate.”

Gods, this male. You brush your lips against his, twining your fingers through his russet locks, grazing the side of his handsome face, running your thumb over his mechanical eye, down to those plush lips and sharp jawline. He was so pretty it was unfair.

“Say it again,” you breathe. You loved hearing Lucien call you his mate. Craved the possessiveness that took over him when he claims you.

Lucien smirks, flipping you underneath him and slipping into your already wet pussy with ease. It feels good, so good, to have his cock stuffed inside you once again, filling you to the brim as you gasp into his mouth. You take him so well, shifting your hips upwards in desperation despite the fact that he’s been fucking you since the break of dawn.

“My mate,” he repeats, watching his cock slide in and out of your pussy as he claims you. Lucien owns you, mind, body, and soul. “You’re mine.”

“I’m yours, Lucien.”

“Gods, baby,” he groans, feeling the slickness of your arousal coating his length. “How are you still so wet? Does it turn you on when I claim you like this? When I fuck you so well that everyone can hear your moans from miles away? Is my pretty little fox just dying to be reminded of who owns her?”

Lucien hikes your leg over his shoulder, rutting into you in a different position so he could thrust further in, stuffing you full and fucking you dumb into the mattress.

“So good. Feels so fucking good, baby,” you moan as Lucien picks up the pace. “Don’t stop, Lucien.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it, my love.”

Your mate captures your lips in his, swallowing every moan and whine that comes out of your mouth while he rolls his hips onto yours. You’re seeing stars as you close your eyes, grasping at Lucien’s back, wrapping your legs around his waist even tighter, your ankles slapping against his ass to take him in even deeper. You couldn’t fucking get enough.

Lucien’s silky hair falls like a curtain around you as his tongue slips into your mouth, devouring you as you both slip over the edge. As his thrusts grow more frantic, you could feel your orgasm nearing, your sixth or seventh of the day, and allow the wave of pleasure overtake your senses while Lucien growls. You cum from the sound alone and your mate follows soon after, spurting his seed into you. Lucien watches as the hot liquid trickles from your pussy, swiping his fingers and coating it with your arousal before bringing it to his mouth.

You groan at the sight, kissing the male with fervent passion. “I love you, Lucien.”

“I love you too, little fox.”

#oh hey hi hello #FINALLY SOME GOOD FOOD #i love lucien #lucien #lucien acotar #lucien smut #acotar smut #masterlist #jess writes

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spider-bren · 11 months

Note

I 100% support your klaber simping. PLEASE anything that has klaber x reader (idk about gender maybe slight fem preference). It is such a shame that there are like no stories about him. im VERY uncreative so i can only think of a few basic prompt ideas: dating headcanon when on the same side vs siding with indy or maybe some angst about fighting with him when trying to convince him to settle down with you somewhere instead continuing to work for Voller

i REALLY dont care i just NEED stories with him

I'm so glad I'm not the only one. Some people are still sleeping on the greatness that is Boyd Holbrook. I am very glad to be doing my first ask for Klaber! So thank you for this. Feel free to give me more or if you just wanna scream about Klaber/Boyd. I LOVE how you said you don't care you just need stories with him. Honestly: Mood.

So here you go. I hope you enjoy. EXTREMELY happy to do more. Give me 5 more prompts (or maybe 10) I need him and I need to write him.

I do also ask that you please reblog my work when I do post so that we can get more people to post stories or give prompts. Klaber deserves the love :)

CHOOSE ME LIKE YOU CHOOSE HIM

Pairing: Klaber x Fem!Reader (can also be read as GN!Reader)

Prompt: maybe some angst about fighting with him when trying to convince him to settle down with you somewhere instead continuing to work for Voller

Warnings: Swearing, Angst, Canon Characterization - Nazi, Love Confessions, Mention of Size Difference

Summary: He didn't want to leave you. But he was a part of something greater than himself. You ask him to stay.

Dawn broke through the curtains of your apartment window. You were still half asleep when you felt the bed shift next to you. Klaber was moving to get up. The warm rays of light caught his golden head of hair that made it look almost white. His blue eyes fixed on yours as he leaned down to kiss your forehead.

"I have to go," he whispered, moving to get dressed.

You watched as he slipped on his grey suit pants and fastened the buttons of his crumpled white shirt. You rolled out of the bed before he left for the door. Blocking his path, he eyed you up and down in your underwear with a smile thinking you wanted one more kiss before he left.

"Eli, can we talk?"

"I only have a few minutes or else I'm gonna be late to meet my boss." He checked his watch impatiently.

But then seeing how seeing how serious you looked, he placed his hands on your shoulders. He was taller than you, bigger, broader. You liked that about him. You liked how he could tower over you and press you against walls. He wasn't threatening or ever violent.

You know what he did for work though. Henchman to Jürgen Voller. Lapdog for a Nazi.

You didn't care who he was. Only that he loved you and made you feel like you were special. He made time for you even in his busy schedule when your other boyfriends never did.

"What's wrong, baby? I can see you're stressed out. I can be a little late. Tell me what's wrong."

You crossed your arms over your chest. "I don't want you to fly so much anymore. I miss you."

He sighed and rubbed your shoulders and arms. "Sweetheart, wherever he asks me to do, wherever he wants me to go, I have to do it."

"But you don't. You can stay with me. Can't you? You could choose me. You could settle down. We can move in together. No more back and forth and hotels. We can be together like a real couple."

"We are a real couple." He frowned.

"You know what I mean! I know this job is important to you. You want to belong to something. He helped you find yourself, find your place in this world and I don't ever judge you for it. I would never hate you for that. I want you to be happy and I want you to feel like you're at home and yourself. But...I want it to be with me. I want you to fight for me like you fight for him. I want you to run where I run, go where I go. Is that too much to ask for? If it is, then what are we doing? What future do we have?"

Klaber fixed his eyes on the floor. His shoulders lifted making him looker bigger as he let out a heavy breath. He let go of you and rubbed his thumb on his forehead before pinching the bridge of his nose.

"I owe everything I am to Voller. He gave me this life. I would be nowhere without him. I am who I am today because of him."

"I know you feel you're indebted to him, but what about me? I'm not just someone you fuck occasionally."

"No, you're not. Jesus, you're not. What am I supposed to do? Huh? I can't just---" He shook his head, tongue dragging angrily across his bottom lip.

There was a silence that caused a fissure inside your chest. He could walk out that door and you'd never see him again. He could choose a damn Nazi over you. You watched as his body settled and relaxed. His breathing evened out and his gaze was back on you.

"You're right, baby. I can't expect you to wait for me all the time. It's dangerous work, I know, and you're probably worried about me every day. Look, I will talk to Voller. I will make this work. I want us to work. You make me happy. Okay? Not this job. I got into this when I was nineteen and yes, it has it perks at best and at worst it's just a pain in the ass. But now, I found you, I want to be with you. I do want to live with you."

"You do? You mean it?" You pressed up against him, lifting yourself on your tiptoes to stretch up and lock your hands around his neck.

His large hands landed on your waist and pulled you in to his body.

"I do. I love you, y/n. Nothing can stop that. Not even Voller."

#klaber #fem reader #gn reader #fem reader x klaber #gn reader x klaber #boyd holbrook #indiana jones 5 #my fic

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impossiblescissorspeachpaper · 2 years

Text

The Heart of a Wanderer: Letters

A collection of letters from Elain to her family throughout her travels across Prythian. Set in my THOAW universe.

Elain Week Day Five: travel & adventure

Dear Nesta,

I hope you are well and have continued your training with the Valkyries. I am writing to you from the sandy shores of Adriata, where I’m almost certain I’ve eaten my body weight in gelato. It really is beautiful here but so odd that it is eternal summer, all year round! It would have been splendid back when we were human, the winters always were the hardest.

Sometimes I sit and think about how far we have come from our little cottage in the mortal lands. How drab even the most magnificent of manors below the wall now seems. I wonder if I would have ever been granted the opportunity to travel and see all the wonderful things I’ve seen if I had wed a human Lord’s son. Thank the Mother I didn’t.

I have just arrived at the Summer Court after travelling through Day for longer than I had anticipated. Helion was kind enough to escort me here on his golden chariot pulled by his Pegasus— such a stunning creature! He claimed he needed to consult with Tarquin about some business or another, but I think he just wanted to show off his magnificent Meallan. But I think you would love it there. Helion has a great number of libraries, they’re far beyond anything I have ever seen! I fear if you ever visit, we may never see you again! We’d surely lose you to the labyrinth of books Helion houses in his court.

But Adriata really is lovely, it’s such a shame Cassian isn’t allowed back here. I would have loved to spend family holidays on the beach. Perhaps I can convince Varian to speak to Tarquin to have him consider rescinding the order on Cassian’s banishment? He does seem like a truly charming male.

How is Cassian, by the way? I know it is spring time back home. Please remind him that I made extra batches of the herbal tincture for his allergies before I left, the vials are in the far-right cabinet of the kitchen at Feyre’s. Just three drops in his morning coffee will do.

Anyway, I’m sending a few books I found whilst perusing the Day markets alongside this letter, I hope you enjoy them. One of them is rather scandalous!

All my love,

Elain.

P.S. Tell Cassian not to bother trying to replacing any pots he may break in my garden. I’ll know.

My Dearest Feyre,

HAPPY BIRTHDAY! And Happy Solstice to everyone back home. I’m sorry I couldn’t be with you for your special day, but I know Rhys will have planned plenty of special surprises for you! I’m spending the Winter Solstice with Vivian and Kallias. They have been so gracious, showing me around their Winter palace and the grounds beyond. I’ll have to remember to write to Morrigan and thank her for her good word to them on my behalf.

The sleighs here are pulled by darling creatures, bears and wolves and reindeer! And they wear adorable little vests! Can you believe it? They are so clever! I think when I return to Velaris, I’d like a pet.

Everything here looks like a sparkling, diamond wonderland. It truly is breathtaking, particularly at sunrise when the light reflects off the ice just so. I do miss the flowers, however. Everything here is all covered in snow.

How is my precious Nyx? I hope he is sleeping better these days and not keeping you up too often at night. Although if he’s anything like his father, it would possibly be his favourite time of the day and wouldn’t want to miss seeing the stars.

I sent my Solstice gifts to Rhysand last week to add to the pile for hiding. I hope the little onesies I sent Nyx still fit him, I managed to find a style in the Dawn Court that have little openings for wings! You cannot imagine how difficult it has been to find them, considering there are so many winged fae in the world.

Well, dear sister, I must leave you for now. But give a big kiss to Nyx from his aunty Lain and send my love to everyone back home. I miss you today, more than ever.

Love always,

Elain

Nuala & Cerridwen,

Well, you were indeed correct about the Dawn Court. The loveliest sunrises have been here so far! And the palace on the Eastern shore faces out toward the Continent. On clear days I swear I can almost see across the entire expanse of ocean to the lands on the other side. With any luck, I’ll be heading there by ship soon.

But I wanted to let you both know about a vision I had. I am unsure if it means anything but just in case it is of importance to Az the network, I thought I should let you know. I saw an autumn leaf wither and fall to the earth, I saw a giant hound’s paw crushing it, mincing it further into the dirt. I then saw the silhouette of a female running. However, she didn’t seem to be fleeing, but rather…flying? As if finally set free.

I have thoughts about what these images could mean, but in case of unwelcome interceptions of this letter, I shall not put into words my deductions. I know you both will understand my meaning.

I miss you both terribly. Thesan’s scullery maid taught me a new recipe for braided lavender bread! We’ll have to trial it out once I’m back home. I have it written down on a card in my knapsack.

Stay safe and look after one another,

Elain xo

Rhysand,

How are you, dear brother? I hope my sister and nephew have kept you smiling, and all is well in Velaris.

I am currently in the human realm below the wall. I will only be spending a few days with Queen Vassa and her court before sailing off to the Continent. However, as requested, I journeyed through the Spring Court on my travels here.

As you suspected, the beastly High Lord has still not emerged from his self-inflicted ostracism and his lands fall into further disarray. I am afraid your visits thus far with him have been fruitless.

I didn’t go searching for him, as promised, but murmurings on the roads travelled led me to believe that his people have lost faith in his leadership. They fear infiltration from bordering Courts as well as enemies from across the seas. There are now whisperings of assembling guerrilla groups of local fae for protection against such invasions.

I truly hope it doesn’t come to that. And if it does, I hope we can provide refuge for as many faeries that reside in his lands as we can.

Take care please, Rhys. And until I return, enjoy winning the family chess tournaments. We all know who the real Inner Circle chess champion is. Enjoy your reign while it lasts, old man.

Sending all my love,

Elain

Oh! P.S. If Nyx is particularly fussy in the next few weeks it will be a little growth spurt in his wings. I have a special salve that will relieve the ache. Cassian and Azriel usually fight over it- ask one of them where they would have left it. Ahh the perks of being an all-knowing Seer.

Darling Morrigan,

Thank you for putting in a kind word with Kallias and Vivian for me. The Solstice I spent with them was truly magical. They send their regards, as does Vivian’s sister.

They introduced me to a drink, a Winter Court specialty, they claimed. It is made with whiskey, a cinnamon quill, orange slices and honey. It’s delightfully warming. They also told me you were the curator of such a drink many many years ago. And that you all went on a spree of sorts after imbibing in one too many of them in your youths… Why Morrigan, I never saw you for one to place bets on sleigh races! Remind me to ask you of your adventures when I return. I feel as if I have centuries to catch up on.

I plan to travel to the mortal lands soon, and then onto Montesere and then Vallahan. If you are still visiting on the Continent for your duties as emissary and find yourself there in the coming weeks, perhaps we could see each other.

Anyway, I should be on my way. I hope Amren hasn’t been too cranky of late, I left Summer only a few days ago and Varian mentioned he had been extremely busy the last couple months. She can get quite scary when he isn’t around, don’t you think?

Miss you all.

Elain

Elain,

The past months have not been the same without you. I thought avoiding you would be best, but in truth it’s been complete anguish.

I miss your warm smile, your long hair that I find everywhere even after your gone, the soft lullaby’s you hum to Nyx, the adorable way your nose scrunches when you berate Cassian when his wings knock over your potted flowers. I miss your sweet laugh and your enchanting scent. I found jasmine oils in the Palace of Hoof and Leaf and have been adding them into my bath each morning. It is said jasmine has a relaxing effect on the mind. It’s not the same, but it helps me feel a little closer to you.

My shadows intercepted all the letters you sent to our family. And I noticed that I was absent from all of them. Do you truly not think of me?

I know I hurt you, I should never have never left you that night, but—

Azriel groaned, crumpling up the parchment in his hands. The scars on the back on his palms stretching as he closed his fist around the umpteenth letter he had attempted to write to Elain. All undelivered. All now reduced to ash in his fireplace. The same fate this one would meet too, no doubt.

She’d left months and months ago. And all their family had received numerous correspondence about her adventures throughout her travels. But not him. She hadn’t written to him once.

He couldn’t blame her.

He sighed, raking a hand through his hair and tossing the unfinished letter across the room into the crackling hearth. Gods, he missed her. The ache around his heart coiled tighter, leaving an empty feeling in his belly.

He slumped heavily into the chair behind his desk.

Come home Elain, he pleaded silently.

Just, come home.

*******

@elainarcheronweek

tagging: @offtorivendell @fawnandshadows @the-laughing-bubble @swankii-art-teacher @pagemasters @tswaney17 @sakurakittypeach @thefangirlofhp @wingedblooms

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lavenderhhaze · 2 years

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IF THE WORLD WAS ENDING

Pairing: Lee Know x fem!reader

Words: 1.5k

Warnings: smoking, mentions of alcohol and the world is lowkey ending, heartbreak, unrequited love, swearing and a drunk kiss

A/N: finally wrote something new so here you go, when idea hits, it hits. Inspired by the music video for Older by 5sos.

Minho has regrets. They begin with lying to his mom about who he's going home to, knocking Felix at the back of his head a little bit too hard, not listening to Chan when he cut him off at the bar after his seventh shot and somehow, they always end with you.

They haven't dawned on him as heavily ever before as they do today. For him, it's the awful way everything comes back to you.

Maybe it was six months back when everyone's trepidation was finally confirmed — the world was, in fact, ending. No less than an ice burn on scraped skin, it did nothing to console.

The people dealt with it in stages. First: agitation. Second: denial. And finally: resignation.

Minho decides resignation is for him.

And that brought him to today — resignation apparent in his half lidded eyes as he leans out of his car's window, cigarette held loosely between his fingers. Usually, you would protest. But as circumstances are, some more smoke to his way too far gone lungs isn't the worst to happen.

The sky is a pale golden, edging closer and closer to a more violent crimson as it meets the horizon. Beautiful, but in awful juxtaposition.

Minho doesn't know why you choose to spend your last day with him but he has come to accept it — your mind works in ways he can't rationalize. Logic was long lost the day you breathed his cigarette exhaust and looked at him with a challenge he couldn't resist.

And he has come far from that day. The only difference? This time he's in love. Pathetically so.

"Minho?"

He hums. His voice is hoarse, his eyes tired, his entire being waiting for the world to swallow him whole.

"Can I try?"

"Try what?"

You try to give your most convincing smile, eyeing the cigarette dangling between his fingers. But he can see right through. You're scared.

He has learnt you, for who you are, for what you show to him. He knows your laugh by heart, the way your hands grip at your skirt when you're nervous and the way you play with your hair when you're uneasy. Knowing all that, he concludes — you're scared. Scared that he might refuse.

"Why now? What happened to your reputation or something?"

It's bullshit, he knows. Reputation went out the window the day everyone accepted that the world was ending. Stuttered confessions and sobbing kisses were nothing new. Noone wants their last day spent in regrets. Him neither.

"You know what happened to reputation. Or something."

He chuckles. This is why he loves you. Whatever he says meets it's retort from you.

He spends a minute in deliberation before arriving at his frequent conclusion: fuck it. The Last Day, he reasons with himself. Not like the smoke could kill you before the end of the world did.

He drops his remaining cigarette from his hand dangling from the window, watching as the end falls to meet concrete and the burning red estinguishes slowly.

Minho's eyes wander back to you, the faint stutter of his heartbeat unmistakable when his eyes find yours — sincere, expectant — and he all but falls in love again.

Drawing two new cigarettes from his pocket, he hands you one. He fumbles for the lighter, patting down his jeans to finally find it — an antique piece decorated with faded sharpie marks he couldn't read out, except for the evenly scrawled "minho is ass <3 ", a courtesy of Felix's.

It's funny how Minho's fantasy's of love were vastly different than what they ended up being. He dreamt of pinks, blues and reds — stolen kisses behind locker rooms, walking home hand in hand, movies dates and affection. He had imagined it to me fulfilling, indulgent and happy. But what love turns out for him was darker. For him, love was purples and maroons and blacks. But most of all, it was unrequited.

He steadies you by the back of your neck, the shared flame of the lighter burning both your cigarettes. He observes you take your first inhale, your nose scrunching up at the burn in your throat before you soon dissolve into a fit of coughs.

His first time was not far from this. He remembers vividly, the sting at the bag of his throat as his eyes had watered at the bitterness in his lungs. He remembers Taehyun and Yeonjun cheering, clapping his back.

For you, there is none of that. All you have is Minho across from you, legs tangled with yours offering you a half finished bottle of apple juice to coax you. Strange, he comments.

The pale golden of the sky had now faded, giving way to the red with silver clouds drawn across. Minho would call it pretty, if only he wasn't aware of what was going to happen. It gets warmer, despite the AC running. Drops of precipitation settle on his forehead and his arms. He feels warmer, he feels sick.

"Did you ever imagine that this is how we die?"

Your question catches him off-guard. He glances over you — washed a pale red from the glowing sky, cigarette in hand, an old t-shirt that was probably his — a sight that holds so much domesticity. Something he wishes he could witness more often.

"No. It's kind of pathetic, honestly."

And it is. Just as most of his life. So many regrets caught in his throat. Begining with the day he met you.

He remembers everything, each memory set in stone. He remembers watching as you fell in love and out again. With Soobin. With Hyunjin. With everyone but him. He remembers when you had stood crying at his porch because Hyunjin was all over some girl he met at the bar. He remembers you crying into his chest, your breath tainted with the faint smell of alcohol.

He remembers when you had kissed him, holding him so tight his heartbeat was no less than yours. He remembers holding you at arm's length, dazed eyes looking for consolation within yours only to be met with drunken giggle and "I'm sorry."

He remembers his heart breaking into a million little pieces when he realized: to you, the kiss meant nothing less than a lazy rebound.

You were too good for him. And you both were well aware.

He remembers the alcohol in your breath, his heartbeat in his fingertips, the hollow in his chest. He remembers feeling like he was falling.

And it isn't fucking fair.

It isn't fair that just like everything else, he always finds his way back to you. Like now, when your face lights up as you laugh — it's sarcastic, he knows, but it's from you nonetheless.

"I fucking know right?"

It isn't fair how he's still restless, confession on his tongue but his mouth refusing to open. It isn't fair how even if the world is ending, at one call he still comes crawling back to you. Minho hates his resignation. And now, he hates himself.

It's suffocating, the cigarette exhaust between both of you as it mingles with the warm breeze from outside. The crimson of the sky is darker, the air more humid. The rise and fall of his chest is gradual, his eyes set on your figure as he waits for his breath to still.

Even as the world is ending, Minho decides, it's not fucking fair.

#stray kids angst #stray kids fanfic #lee know #lee know fanfic #bang chan #stray kids fluff #lee know angst #lee know fluff #felix angst #hwang hyunjin #skz x reader #stray kids x reader #lee know x reader #lee minho #minho x reader

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dreamlandcreations · 1 year

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Chapter 1 - The well

Darkling (xReader) Locke & Key AU

Summary: The Locke family returns to the Keyhouse...

Warnings: spoilers for L&K?, the first (few) chapter(s) set(s) up the game with other characters so reader is not present

Previous chapter • Series masterlist • Next Chapter

Nina was excited to start a new life with her children. The ghost of her husband was still haunting them in the city, and despite Matthias not being their biological father, both Alina and Nina's adopted son, Mal suffered with the reminders of their happy family and the trauma of the day when he was taken from them.

While they were not exactly happy about the move, it was good to leave behind the pitying stares that followed them everywhere since the day Alina's friend turned their life upside down.

Their new home was strange and way too big just for the three of them but neither Ivan, Nina's brother, nor his daughter wanted to live there so it was wasting away anyway. Nina truly wanted to make her childhood home a safe place for her children. If she only knew...

On the first night at the new place, Alina was having trouble sleeping. After tossing and turning around for hours, she gave up trying to find sleep and just resigned herself to stare at the ceiling and get lost in her thoughts. It was almost dawn when she started to her the weird whispers.

Alina felt compelled the follow the voices that lead her to find a key. As soon as she touched it, the whispers stopped and a new voice was calling her. This time it was clear, repeating her name gently, luring her out of the house and to the old well house.

Her petite form fit between the bars and she didn't stop until she was looking into the dark well, calling out for the enchanting voice.

"Alina." A pleased tone greeted her from the depth.

"Who- What are you?" she asked, her voice trembling as she was starting to realise she might be in danger.

"I am an echo." Came the simple, yet confusing answer.

"Whose echo? You don't sound like mine." Her only answer at first is a chuckle, then she hears the voice from closer which makes her step back and fall to the ground.

"Look at the picture between stones," somehow her gaze landed on the exact spot, despite not getting a clear direction, "say my name and I shall appear."

The frightened girl takes the photo but hesitates and it's like the echo can hear her thoughts.

"If you do not summon me, I cannot help you."

"Help me with what?"

"To get what you desire most."

"No one can give that to me."

Another chuckle. "No human can."

The terrified but heartbroken girl spoke the name on the back of the picture. "Aleksander Morozova."

For a long moment, she thought nothing happened, the voice is gone and she started to convince herself that she imagined it. However, when she stood and turned she bumped into someone. She looked up with wide eyes, thinking that the blurry picture didn't do him justice at all.

He smiled at her, reaching out to brush the back of his hand against her cheek. She was mesmerised but she tried to listen when he asked her to find the golden key.

"Find the key, little Locke. It can open doors you cannot imagine. Bring it to me."

"You can bring back my father with it?"

"I could bring him back just as easy as you summoned me."

With hope in her heart, Alina didn't hesitate to run into the house and search for the anywhere key.

The poor girl was just as gullible as the other two who unknowingly helped the Darkling to return to this realm. While he didn't lie, he chose his words carefully. As soon as he had the key he would be truly free once again.

Perhaps it was a mistake to betray her trust so soon, getting the other keys with her believing him to be a wish-granting spirit would be easier but what would be the fun in that?

#darkling x reader #darkling #the darkling #darkling x alina #aleksander morozova #aleksander morozova x reader #alternate universe #locke and key au #locke & key au #my stuff #my fics

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acacia-may · 1 year

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Since it's also a ship of yours, how about 🧡💚💘 for David Swallow x Letoile Becquerel? I think it sounds interesting as a ship and well, would be nice to have a bit more about it, like for a lot of rare pairs 🥰

Hi there, friend! Thank you so much for this ask! I was so excited when I saw it that I just wanted to answer it immediately (since I just thinking about them earlier and wanted to keep that momentum 🥰). It is definitely a rare pair, but I've always been really fond of it. I really like Letoile and David as characters (they're both my "Little Trees" 🌲), and the idea of them as a pairing is just so incredibly fun to me because they're so different from each other but I can see them complementing each other really well. In my Future Problems Universe, they are married with three kids, so even though I don't really talk about them (and never finished the story I started writing about them 😅), I secretly love them. 💖 This one of my favorite Black Clover ships, to be perfectly honest with you, and I'm really happy to have the opportunity to give them some attention! 🥰

Headcanons are below the cut. Thank you so much for playing my Bye Bye Writer's Block Headcanon's Game! 💕

David Swallow x Letoile Becquerel Headcanons

🧡-- Childhood/Backstory

David and Letoile didn't really get off on the right foot as they were both selected for the Golden Dawn at the same time (from the same entrance exam) when they were 15 and as the newest members were often compared to each other and forced to team up despite their wildly different personalities. Letoile found David to be wild, boisterous, immature, and irresponsible, and David thought she was a real stick in the mud and would tease her for being uptight and a killjoy. In my mind, he developed romantic feelings for her early on, but (as a teenager), he handled them in a very immature way (mostly by joking around about them inevitably dating one day and/or about her "clearly" being in love with him) which was off-putting to her and made it difficult to see that he was actually, genuinely interested in her and not just teasing her. She made it clear that she wasn't interested, and, I think, in her mind, she really considered him the absolute last person that she would ever want to go out with (perhaps even to the extent of being a little too insistent on this).

However, as they time passes and they deepen their friendship, she really comes to know him better and build more of a respect for him, and she eventually realizes (to her horror, lol. I'm just kidding) that she might actually be open to a relationship with him (in one of those classic "...oh. Oh no." moments 😂). But of course, being Letoile, she tells no one, until she sorts out her feelings. Meanwhile, practically everyone and their grandmother knows how David feels about her--like this big open secret. His attempts to hide his own interest have been nothing but utter failures, and though the majority of the Golden Dawn is pretty convinced that Letoile will never return David's affection, there is no doubt in their minds that it's Letoile standing in the way of this relationship because David (despite his protests to the contrary) would give just about anything for a chance to pursue a relationship with her. They are all genuinely surprised when Letoile eventually agrees to go out with him (but David himself is by far the most surprised--though he'd probably have a difficult time admitting that to their friends). 😊

💚-- General

Back in the early days of their friendship, one of the first gifts David ever gave to Letoile was a compass because it reminded him of her magic. (Giving presents isn't always the easiest thing in the world for him😅). In the future (after they are in a romantic relationship with each other), he is genuinely shocked to learn she still has it and has kept it on her desk all these years. She insists she kept it because it was practical (but, secretly, she appreciates the sentimental value). It is sitting on her desk at the Golden Dawn to this day.

💘-- Romance

David is a really talented dancer, and he absolutely loves dancing with Letoile (even though she is not much of a dancer herself). When they are married, one of his favorite things is dancing with her in random rooms around their house. If she teasingly points out that there is no music, he will provide accompaniment by humming or singing songs himself (sometimes purposefully/playfully badly just to tease her). 💖

#David Swallow x Letoile Becquerel #Letoile Becquerel x David Swallow #david x letoile #letoile x david #bye bye writer's block headcanons #thank you so much for the ask!!#just a little fan 🦅

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acourtofantumbra · 2 years

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Pulling at the Thread of the Day Court and the Dawn Court Pt.1 - Alchemy & Other Realms

☆ All SJM spoilers: ACOTAR, CC, and TOG ☆

I might be putting this insanity out into the tumblr wilds, but trust that I do not think anyone would ever care to read something this long. Idk if my college thesis was this long. This is a literal invitation into how my neurodivergent brain works. Expect real a to b to q to wow we've just fully veered off the road... where are we even going? energy. If you get tired along the way — yeah, trust me that's normal.

So, I'm doing my first re-read of ACOTAR!! Tbh during the first go around I struggled with the OG trio (I DNFed ACOFAS multiple times lol) and it's been well over a year since I've read them. But recently, I binged every other SJM book/series. So during my messy reread I've been picking up on a lot. And enjoying it more! But there were two fleeting moments from ACOMAF & ACOWAR that caught my eye and led me down what will become (maybe) the longest fucking theory spiral. Like multi part...

Honestly? It's been so fun. My job is very soul sucking.

In short — nothing about this will be short lol — the thread I followed brought me to Helion, his Day Court, and weird connections to both the Thesan/the Dawn Court and one of ACOTAR’s many unexplored Faerie Realms. And some realms not in ACOTAR. I also take a look at both Helion and Thesan’s powers (as well as some others) that have me questioning... some unexplored "magic" from multiple worlds. Happy to call all of it crack theory, but I will be citing as much canon as tumblr's image limit allows. This is gonna be a long and winding road!

I always add books and page numbers (and try to add any other relevant citations) to the visuals/sources I use, so check those out if you need some extra info!

Color Key: spoilers, notes from me 2 u, important, important + links, mentioned later in the post, mentioned in another post of mine or in a future post

Day Court Powers and Dawn Court Powers

Alright, so the moment that caused me to spiral was a snipe from Lucien in Chapter 11 of ACOWAR. Feyre’s plan to GTFO of the Spring Court is fully in motion, but she's freaking out about Hybern weaponizing faebane. Breezing past that, Lucien confronts her about being a big ol’ liar whilst reminding her that he has other friends, ok?

So, two things: I was trying to remember who Lucien’s friend was and thought, Oh right, the ‘Master Tinkerer.’ The friend that made Lucien’s golden eye, which is itself magical.

But then I got caught up in a different question... Like hold up, what healing powers did Feyre use in this moment he’s talking about?

Because that's the main power of the Dawn Court that's canon thus far. Especially because Lucien is pointing out that his friend’s light and Feyre’s light comes from “the same power,” which he seems to know intimately, and their “light is identical.” At first, I was just confused because who is this non-High Lord person with High Lord power? And are we all cool with that or...?

So I flip back to ACOMAF to remind myself wtf we’re talking about here… which of Thesan’s — or the Dawn Court’s — powers did Feyre use in the Hybern/Cauldron event at the end of the book? A display noticeable enough that Lucien clocked Feyre's light looking familiar — perhaps because his mechanical/magical eye might have related functions.

As it turns out we're not talking about Thesan’s powers at all… we’re talking about Helion’s powers. Which might be why Lucien is intimately familiar with how the power works — for wholly different reasons... like having inherited Helion’s powers himself.

So Feyre breaks through Hybern's wards so she can get her sisters and IC out and reestablishes her bond speaking with Rhys, but notably she still can't feel the bond with Hybern's spell crushing down on it. But she pretends she's broken the "curse" Rhys has put on her to make her like him more than Tamlin...

Tamlin... my dude... no...

And while Feyre gave an Oscar worthy performance convincing everyone that her very nice Night Husband was evil the whole time, Lucien is suspicious as hell... and so is his eye.

Lucien knew Feyre was full of shit and with “centuries of cultivated reason” he might know about some other lies *cough* who his real dad is *cough*. But his mating bond with Elain has freshly snapped into place… so his priorities shifted, one could say, and doesn’t call Feyre out.

Ok, so where are we now?

Feyre used Helion’s Day Court power - his light and his cursebreaking/spellbreaking to take down Hybern’s wards so the Night Court could get her recently Made sisters out of dodge. Lucien clocks this because he has a friend in the Dawn Court with the same abilities and the same light and also maybe because he personally knew Papa Helion’s powers were being used.

Here's a post from whitewolf-ofdoranelle: detailing some evidence about Lucien maybe knowing the truth about Helion and his powers.

About Light in the SJM Multiverse:

It's becoming more important by the second!

We have many different shades that seemingly allude to overarching people/powers/plots. Most of the time when we encounter characters using or emitting light, they/we don’t exactly know where it comes from or how it works. Which is why so much of the understanding re: our shining characters is still just speculation at this point.

But we know it's for sure important with the introduction of the Starborn Line in Crescent City and the lore that connects Midgard and Prythian (tho the stories are not identical... someone is lyinggg). We’re building that knowledge more extensively as the multiverse comes into play.

For example, when Feyre glows after the mate-a-thon with Rhysand in the mountain cabin she wonders what court's light is turning her into a 100 watt bulb...

It very well might be a different light! Helion's light has been described as healing! Of all the glowy boys — Thesan is actually the glowiest and the brightest! Are they different? Are they the same? I really don't know!!! And I'm sorry if I've made you more confused now too. Tho I do delve into Thesan more towards the end.

A thought I've had re: Helion's kind of light (I'll get more into in another post) has everything to do with Pelias... and Helion's sensitivity to the Dread Trove.

In ACOSF, Helion has to have the IC cover the mask and physically remove himself from the area... no one else has this sensitivity (at least to this extreme) and all Helion has to say for himself is this:

It's worth noting that in Midgard they don't seem to have the same distinctions regarding light powers. Like... everyone who glows (minus Hunt) is Starborn?

In Prythian we have Dawn Court light, Day Court light, Night Court shadows and perhaps this (to borrow the Midgard term) Starborn light. Pelias, the controversial figure in the lore connecting P + M in the King Fionn and Theia story, is said to be a Starborn prince. But at every turn the Princes of Hel are quick to point out that Pelias' power and his light are nothing like Theia's — who is, by their claim, the true Starborn power holder — and her daughters'. They also say Theia's daughters have starborn and shadow gifts, but that isn't necessarily part of Pelias' skill set either... I'm lookin' at you Aidas.

Anyway, I've toyed with the idea that perhaps Pelias' light powers, because Midgard lacks the distinction between light powers, could be Day Court-like. And it would make sense that the Dread Trove would ward against anyone in that lineage considering "Pelias wielded [Luna's] Horn until he died" (HOEB). JUST SOME THOUGHTS.

Check out this absolutely incredible (a comprehensive) theory post from @wingedblooms about the different kinds of light in the SJM Multiverse

But back to Lucien’s friend who has Day Court powers… who is she?

It’s Nuan! A character I was like, "She seems cool, can’t wait to get to know her.”

And then ACOWAR ended and we never heard from her again... womp. But, some might call this a loose end.

It's me. I'm calling it that.

Considering she played a big role in Lucien’s life (a former main-ish character with nothing but loose ends), provided critical help to win the war against Hybern, has a suspicious amount of power, technical skills, and connection to distant faerie realms we still know frustratingly little about… Nuan has nothing but potential! Welp, let’s get into it.

So remember how Feyre is like “What if everything I eat has faebane in it, wow that’s suddenly a huge problem for us right now on the verge of war?” And then Lucien is like, “You have my friend’s powers, you liar?” Coincidental? Cool.

When Nuan is finally introduced by name, she's shown up at the tensest High Lord meeting ever at the Dawn Court. Why? She wants to let everyone know she invented a cure for that pesky Faebane. Helpful!

There is a metric ton stuffed into her introduction and it's hard to even know where to begin, but I'll try.

Just know the “she looks kind of like Amren thing” is incredibly specific and out of nowhere.

Whenever SJM throws in an “oh, I just kinda thought that… strange” and “oh hm maybe i saw that person glowing like a 60 watt bulb but maybe not” etc etc etc… statements, they are always important. There are more of those moments to come and every series by her is full of these.

Anyway, ACOTAR has had 5 books (4 novels, one novella) and this comparison to Nuan is among one of the more specific pieces of the “who and what is Amren” puzzle we get. We’ll get to it, but we’ve got a mountain the size of Ramiel to dig through first.

Back to the Dawn Court scene: Being his usual discriminatory self, Beron aka the High Lord of Autumn is suspicious of Nuan’s miracle cure for faebane for because he's an asshole and a xenaphobe — we’ll come back to this. But she counters with her own commitment to protecting the fae from being poisoned and powerless. Go Nuan! It also seems like she's a very dedicated scientist, but that behind this science there is also magic. Makes sense when you consider the whole magical appendages gig she has!

Nuan monologues about the Mother aka higher power/god/[insert mystical lore here] situation who is suspect #1 in the whole “what are the gods?” conversation. The gods, etc. are known lore — which exists in different forms ACOTAR, TOG, and CC — and they're complicated enough to warrant their own massive post.

Anyway, Nuan explains that the Mother provides “everything we need on this earth.” Nuan simply needed to find what the Mother has provided Prythian to stop Hybern from “wiping out” their powers. Considering she applied this logic and it worked… seems legit... and important?

So yes, the way she phrased her scientific method struck me... and left me with so many more questions than I started with. Like what did you use and how did you do it and where did you find it??? What do you mean this earth?! I could keep going!!!!

However, her antidote can’t protect fae entirely because physical objects made from faebane will still have dangerous effects. Sounds like her compound is able to… dare I say… break the curse or spell of faebane? But if the physical object that makes fae vulnerable comes barreling at them… well that’s a whole different story. Kind of like how from the first scene I mentioned: Feyre could break the wards and the spell silencing her mating bond with Rhys, but she still couldn’t feel any of the physical effects of the bond with Hybern’s spell shutting her down.

Nuan, it seems, not only has Day Court-like powers as a person whose family isn’t from Prythian, or the Solar Courts, she can transform magic/power into physical objects - magical mechanical body parts and medicines, for ex. Kind of like less spooky Nesta sword versions of Made objects?

But this is apt considering she’s not just a tinkerer (a word that will always make me lol), but Thesan introduces her as an alchemist.

Let's talk about alchemy, baby

So let’s take an unplanned detour off the cliff of what tf is alchemy? VERY COMPLICATED is what it is! You may wonder where the heck are I'm going with this... patience my friend. Possibly somewhere... maybe nowhere... idk. Look, I said this would be long.

I promise we'll delve into actual historical contexts, but I'm gonna be real with you... I'm not a scholar, or a philosopher, or an archaeologist, or a theologian, or a chemist, or an anthropologist. I took courses on these subjects, but I just enjoy learning about this stuff/consuming content about it. Alchemy is very mysterious, very "lost to time," so it's hard to get it right. And just to keep it 100... my deepest and longest exposure to alchemy comes from a beloved manga and anime series. If you're like... "yup, absolutely not." Skip the rest of this post if you'd like... or skip ahead. To both fandoms... I'm so sorry for what I'm about to do. lol.

Alright, raise your hand if you too love the manga and anime series Full Metal Alchemist… If you’re not raising your hand, I highly recommend giving it a whirl. And maybe don't ruin it by reading any of this. If you think Kingdom of Ash has insane world building culminations and… pain... yeah FMA has that and emotional pain I’ve never healed from. *sobs* 10/10

Much like SJM and her use of universal mystical concepts and traditions, FMA also references much of the real history of alchemy and, by association, incredibly complex mystic religious principles. And what would ya know? Turns out FMA is a super helpful tool to explain/understand this very difficult subject.

So let’s take a quick look at the main character in FMA…

That’s Edward. He’s a rascal. He’s also an incredible alchemist who’s able to transmute — woefully basic explanation: turn objects from their original form into something else through the law of equal exchange — without a transmutation circle. That's a rarity among even the greatest alchemists. Because he can do this, at age 12, he becomes the youngest State Alchemist (he works for the government begrudgingly). Though, in the image above, that's Ed with a transmutation circle and hm... is that a star shaped rune? I digress.

You might ask... where is there an instance of a "law of equal exchange" in SJM's worlds? It might not be a perfect parallel, but... there's definitely something going on with give and take regarding magic. And that has major implications re: how much magic each world has (and how much the Asteri need to consume/wreck worlds for). I'm a broken record but... that perhaps will be its own post one day.

When Nuan talks about the Mother providing what that world needs... I feel like we're touching on something here. And as an alchemist, her work would be centered around this law of balance. Of course, we get absolutely no details from SJM.

But let's look at something we've encountered a bit more, like the Great Rite. Note: not my favorite magic tradition in these worlds... But it keeps coming up, especially where characters with mysterious pasts are concerned.

I've also made a post tying it in with Hunt from Crescent City and... idk... once I saw it, I can't unsee it.

First off, Lucien shakes off shadow hands multiple times talking about the Great Rite... please take note of that for a point below.

But we get reference of a tradition that must occur every year for their magic's cosmic "give-and-take." Sounds equal exchange-like.

High Lord becomes the Hunter (Hunt... is that you?) who needs to find the Maiden (Bryce is this what you guys are doing?) selected by the magic. Then they "couple" *sigh* and generate magic that's released back to the earth and all is well and magical for the coming year. Sure.

The Maiden has come up countless time in the references to the triunity or triple goddesses throughout ACOTAR, CC, and TOG (Also long and complicated - I am 100% doing a post on this). Short version: the triple goddess = mother, maiden, and the crone. Three-faced goddess. All the moon goddesses implicated. Witches and their goddesses... Persephone-like characters... etc. etc. etc. I'll get into it another time... this is my super bowl. But the Maiden has everything to do with the Mother and vice-versa, just as Nuan pointed out in her assessment of balance and magic within this world.

Outside of the Great Rite's Hunter and the Maiden ritual, Lucien says the rest of court takes a part in the night, "though it’s not the Great Rite, our own dalliances tonight will help the land, too" (ACOTAR, Chapter 21). Energy spent becomes energy reaped... even if they don't get the ritualistic title. Is this reminding you of science class and the first law of thermal dynamics: energy can't be created or destroyed it can only be transformed? It should.

It's notable that every Court has a Great Rite they must comply with to power the magic of the land, though we're only familiar with the Spring Court's Calanmai tradition. But in ACOSF, Gwyn mentions multiple times that when females "come of age" they can, and seem to be expected to, participate in the Rite. And we all know rituals with titles and milestones have never gone wrong for anyone... *stares in Crescent City* (The Drop). But also, we're seeing instances in both CC and ACOTAR where magic is waning... like the balance is off. Rhys tells Feyre that Starfall souls are less plentiful and well... we know the Asteri are over indulging in first light. Essentially, exchanges are not equal and there are traditions in place to keep them that way! What's changing? What does this mean?

The TikToker ahappyhermit posted her first podcast episode about Starfall and the dwindling souls and it's awesome. She's also got a lovely reading voice!

Back to FMA, transmutation boiled down also feels suspiciously similar to Aelin and co. drawing their wyrdmarks... something many SJM theories speculate will make a big return come CC3/ACOTAR5.

Alchemists even wear objects (clothes? yup! prosthesis? yup! fake eyes... eye patches? yup!) or have tattoos (Aelin and Bryce's world walking tats? TOG witches w/ the Eye of the Goddess tats?) with transmutation runes to help them attempt to do what Ed can do — transmute without crouching down and drawing out a rune.

In an attempt to try and spare you the full rundown of the science and magic of both alchemy and the world of FMA... there's gonna be metric tons of nuance I'm leaving out. The FMA fandom are effectively scholars at this point and I just want you ALL to know I know I'm watering some of this down.

Why can Ed transmute without a circle? It's really complicated, and important, but I'll do my best to summarize. First, it helps that, like Nuan, he has a metal arm - in FMA it's called automail, it's as complex as we've come to know Nuan's work is (albeit a little less magical), and basically he can do science faster/easier with it (I'm so sorry this would simply take too long to explain). And because *giant and complete FMA spoiler alerts across the board - like seriously I'm going to discuss all of the big reveals* he does some majorly taboo alchemy — resurrection of human life — that takes his leg and arm (and his brother's entire body, but not his soul leaving him as animated armor). Performing the taboo human transmutation opens a portal to the Gate of Truth. It opens, revealing a dimension of information which manifests as a shadowy void with several shadow-like hands coming out of it and a single large eye within. And this isn't just pure FMA canon, it draws inspiration from the lore of the Tree of Life.

Shadowy hands and something with a big eye watching you in a knowledge void? Hm... Let us turn to Nesta spiraling out and falling down the House of Wind steps and into her Making memories from the Cauldron. This does not include the MANY times characters, from multiple worlds, mention feeling shadowy hands (*wink* Dorian), but we saw examples with Lucien above.

The Cauldron kind of sounds like a big eye in a shadowy void that is perhaps a different dimension stacked with information, huh?

And what happens after Nesta's spiral? She comes to and realizes she's sparked and embedded her hand, and then handprint, in stone... which is also glowing.

Did anyone else find this moment/detail weird when they were reading? Cassian found it super weird!

Back to Edward, at the Gate of Truth, he meets a god, Truth. It's a whole thing. Insanely long story short, by reaching the Gate, Edward sees into the void that holds the truth of the universe. This allows him to bypasses the need to draw runes and instead channels the energy of alchemy/all the nature bending stuff he does by his own will.

Effectively, Ed seeing beyond the Gate allows him to break the rules of nature and freely wield a "different magic".

Interesting, because what Nesta has taken from the Cauldron seems to allow her to bypass the natural order of things too. No markings or weapons needed.

Throughout the series some (Illyrians) call Nesta a witch and refer to her different, powerful magic as unnatural. In fact, even the other magical beings of Prythian do not get her magic.

Hypothetically, and just pretend with me, Nesta could (she gave it back) do a kind of alchemy without the limits of nature/the laws of Prythian because she she took too much from the Cauldron/void of truth... it stands to reason that, much like using the wyrdmarks in TOG, that alchemists like Nuan are tapping into something totally different magic-wise. Like most High Fae have some magical capabilities, but the High Lords are usually the ones with the more robust skillset. Alchemy might be this secret link to why characters — multiple groups of high skilled/non royal fae/even humans in TOG — can display huge power... as well as create objects with incredible abilities like arms and eyes... and... Prythian iPods?

Helion might not have tinkerers like Thesan, but he does have piles of libraries and scholars... oh ya you can be I will be doing a post just on libraries.

Anyway so we've got some suspicious powers around, suspicious magic objects created for other purposes originally, and magical objects like body parts and medicinal powders. We've got multiple instances across worlds that implicate magic and cosmic balance... specifically that balance being off now.

Especially with magic being targeted (First and Second Light in HSOAB) as a deity food source - I think correcting the broken state of magic with alchemy could very well become... something. And I explain below an instance we already have seen where non-magical magic does just this in the SJM multiverse.

But in the next part of this theory spiral this connects (perhaps!) to Nesta and the Cauldron/Gate of Truth concept I outlined. Specifically, alchemists who see it and come back have taken too much from it. It comes at a great personal cost, but they have superior nature-bending abilities. The "great personal cost" thing is a TOG quote... just btw. Spoiler alert: witch mirrors

Ok, I promise just a few more comps using FMA and we'll move this train right along...

Finally, in FMA and alchemy seven is also big number and I get into some other instances in the real history below. There are seven Homunculi, beings with tremendous power who have their own agenda with a much bigger scope than what's happening on this sole planet/realm. And actually, there's a secret eighth Homunculus that's been hiding in plain sight for the whole show (like a secret 8th court?)... and ends up being the creator of the other homunculi... as well as being Ed & Al's dad (like said secret court being an origin point for all our favorite fae?). What is a homunculus? It refers to the medieval legendary concept of a being Made and brought into existence by certain means of alchemy and it requires the Philosopher's Stone (too complicated to even get into, but it comes up again in my Pt. II post). Also fun fact: in FMA, Homunculi all carry the mark of the Ouroboros... like that (witch) mirror in ACOTAR that people have been mighty suspicious of.

The Homunculi are aptly named after the seven deadly sins - pride, envy, lust, wrath, greed, sloth, and gluttony. Makes you think... Asteri are pretty gluttonous... Valg? Princes of the Pit? Angels? Scions? Some High Lords? Nesta? IDK?! Anyway, the Homunculi begin as villains and some change their allegiance along the way. But not all not all of them are inherently evil. Despite looking like the human characters/beings in FMA, "Homunculi are still aberrations of nature created by violating the laws of the natural universe, and as such, have no souls." It's complicated, but they're incapable of accessing the Gate of Truth or regular alchemic (read: magic) powers, because they lack souls. Some weird Valgy/TOG god/Asteri/can't get through a damn portal parallels, no?

Ok, that was still SO long, and I'm just gonna leave these many kernels of thought I have failed to really wrap up here... whilst staring into my own void... and catalog of all the characters and beings we've run into described as something else or Made or bred. I will spare you from the whole chimera conversation... FOR NOW... but I'm looking at all of the spooky murder pets our heroes have fought off... and truly every Asteri "experiment" being. Just know that.

Has Sarah watched this show? Dude, I don't know. But I do know that we both entered the world of fantasy via Sailor Moon. According to this post she even wrote wildly popular Sailor Moon fanfiction. So she has watched and loved at least one anime. FMA is wildly popular, has a rich fantasy plot that's a masterclass in world building with brilliantly researched foundations in global mystical traditions, and it's penned by a woman! So, no, I'm not 100% convinced she hasn't.

So, is alchemy real? Kind of...

OK, I swear I'll focus now. So alchemy! There was a time when people believed it was real (from the ancient past to Isaac Newton who wrote a lot about alchemy and very real science). The way I have come to understand it, alchemy exists within the crossroads of science and mythology. It's even been considered a kind of witchcraft or spellwork. However, alchemy did either lead to, or exist along side, many important scientific laws and discoveries we still hold as truths/are taught today.

So... witchcraft, eh? We've had allusions to witches in ACOTAR, but we seem to be lacking the noted presence of such beings like we've seen in CC and TOG (though we still don't fully understand their powers across the board)... unless they're hiding in plain sight dressed as something else?

Interesting... no? I am far from the first to suggest the Made Archerons are witches (and Pt. II will have more witch talk and citations to great theory posts I didn't write). But hey, they could be alchemists too...

We know from Nesta's perspective in ACOSF that she absolutely took more than she should have from the Cauldron and she is using/making tools (read: swords) right and left. Plus, Mor's description sounds suspiciously like alchemy that's... gone rogue or without equal exchange. Also, more simply, everyone calls Nesta a witch (specifically the Illyrians) and she's cool with it. But that's could be because she revels in being scary and we love her for it.

Alchemy as word reveals much about it. Like most terms that have an "al" to start (algebra, algorithm, alfalfa, alcohol, almanac...) is an Arabic syllable for “the,” and we see it show up in the language of math and science.

"Alchemy was rooted in a complex spiritual worldview in which everything around us contains a sort of universal spirit, and metals were believed not only to be alive but also to grow inside the Earth... Historian Nevill Drury, in his book "Magic and Witchcraft," notes that, "The word alchemy is thought to derive from an Egyptian word, 'chem' or 'qem,' meaning black — a reference to the black alluvial soils bordering the Nile ... We know that the Greek word 'chyma,' meaning to fuse or cast metals, established itself in Arabic as 'al kimia' — from which alchemy is derived." Live Science

"Alchemists attempted to purify, mature, and perfect certain materials. Common aims were chrysopoeia, the transmutation of "base metals" (e.g., lead) into "noble metals" (particularly gold); the creation of an elixir of immortality... The perfection of the human body and soul was thought to result from the alchemical magnum opus ("Great Work"). The concept of creating the philosophers' stone was variously connected with all of these projects." Wikipedia

There's a lot going on there, but we're speeding right along. You can ask questions at the end of class. No, seriously ask them because I'm probably not gonna dig that deep here.

Alchemy has roots in many different ancient places and sprung up independently of one another.

"[There were] at least three major strands, which appear to be mostly independent, at least in their earlier stages: Chinese alchemy, centered in China; Indian alchemy, centered on the Indian subcontinent; and Western alchemy, which occurred around the Mediterranean and whose center has shifted over the millennia from Greco-Roman Egypt to the Islamic world, and finally medieval Europe." Wikipedia

As it turns out, Sarah and alchemy have a lot in common — they love mixing a matching the myth of many places into one magical tangle. There's a lot to unpack there and I wont get to all of it here... but I will try to eventually. One thing I will definitely touch on in another post is alchemy's connection to the God Hermes who keeps coming up in my research — he has many powers, but notably he's a world walker.

So from the quote above I'm gonna dive into connections with what we know about elemental fae magic, then we get back to Nuan and Alchemy's far reaching geographic history, and how that brings us to major questions marks around Helion and Thesan and their Courts.

Elemental Fae Magic vs Alchemy

So we don't know everything about elemental fae magic across worlds, but from the recent books and leading plots... we get a ton of focus on weapons (swords) being the biggest world connections (CC 3), Nesta forging narban blades, and Rhys explaining finally what this world is and what magic/fae used to be like.

Something new, eh? Something different?

As the LiveScience quote above points out, alchemy is magical, scientific, but it's also deeply connected to the Earth and laws of the universe. So elements play a big role and, you guessed it, we get the number 7 again (if you don't get why I keep referencing 7 I encourage you to take note every time the number 7 comes up in TOG, ACOTAR, CC because it's near constant):

"The elemental system used in medieval alchemy... consisted of seven elements, which included the five classical elements (aether, air, earth, fire, and water) in addition to two chemical elements representing the metals." Wikipedia

If you're unfamiliar with the concept of aether, here's an incredibly rushed explanation that's still somehow too long:

Aether has roots dating back to ancient Greece and means, "in Homeric Greek, 'pure, fresh air' or 'clear sky'. In Greek mythology, it was thought to be the pure essence that the gods breathed, filling the space where they lived, analogous to the air breathed by mortals. It is also personified as a deity, Aether, who is at times relates to Chronus, Erebus, Nyx, Chaos and Hemera (this is its own post) in traditional Greek mythology. Aether is related to αἴθω 'to incinerate', and intransitive 'to burn, to shine'."

Traditionally there are 4 elements - air, earth, fire, water. But in the Medieval Age (read: alchemy time), scientists concluded there was a 5th element. Aether was considered the material that fills the region of the universe beyond the terrestrial sphere. Unlike the four terrestrial elements that were subject to change and moved linearly, aether was a celestial element that moved circularly and had none of the qualities the terrestrial classical elements. Aether also is tied in quite often with light. And this is significant because light is notably how scientists (have — some theories since disproven — and currently do) measure distance and travel within space.

I find aether particularly interesting because, within the SJM multiverse, we have seen magic wielders display powers that would fall within the terrestrial elements (ex. Autumn Court's fire powers, Rowan's/Whitehorns' wind powers, House of Many Waters & Aelin's mom's water powers, etc.). But then we have these outliers whose powers work a little differently... perhaps more powerfully... specifically when we're talking about light and shadow. And with the allusions to burning, shining, and breath... we've got a lot of interesting Starborn connections. Also... travel within non-terrestrial spaces??? Come on now!

Back to Elemental Fae

In the ACOSF passage above, Rhys explains that Prythian Fae magic used to be more elemental — like the elements above. He also says their kind of magic could forge great weapons, just like Nesta who creates her narban blades... and a reminder that there are the 5 discussed elements and also 2 metals (we wont get into specifics here, but just... metals ok?) to create the 7 alchemic elements.

Tons here to analyze but take a look at TikToker chemicalrosie killing it on the analysis of elemental fae magic, weapons, and connections across the SJM worlds. She does most of the heavy lifting on this point (thanks Rosie).

In Crescent City we get more hints of elemental fae magic. In fact the Houses themselves seemingly represent these elements: House of Sky and Breath (aether? Also potentially air?), House of Earth and Blood (earth), House of Many Waters (water), House of Flame and Shadow (fire... also aether?). Under the House of Sky and Breath there are even beings called "Elementals," though we don't exactly know what an elemental is yet because their mentions are limited. Am I screaming "alchemists" into the void? Sure am. If they were elemental fae... wouldn't they just be called fae??? We do know they belong in the same House as angels, fae, and those blessed by major gods (which we know can give a magical or non magical being gifts of varying levels from TOG).

We also get mention of an Elemental War, which Lehaba mentions a distant relative sprite being involved in. Though that is sort of the extent of what we know about it (unless I'm wrong and feel free to tell me I'm wrong always).

We also get another depiction of elemental fae magic forging a weapon (refer back to that TikTok above if you want to delve into who this is and what it depicts in the multiverse).

So we're not gonna get too much deeper into elemental fae magic (tho let me know if you want further digging on this because my unhinged brain knows no bounds), but let me sketch my overarching point with this.

We have multiple points of reference within the SJM Multiverse where elemental magic and its noted difference to starborn/aether-like magic is being woven into this bigger world-spanning plot. Obviously, I referenced CC and ACOTAR here, but I could have dumped a ton of TOG references in here too (and will... later!).

We also have a multiverse with magic that seems... out of balance. We do not not know why all of these element-related mentions have been baked into the plot here and there. What was the Elemental War and why are magic abilities so different among Fae at the very least — and why are they different than they were before?

We also have metal/Made/superior substance swords linking our multiverse and being forged despite that not happening in a very long time. But now that Nesta has relinquished her stolen power back to the Cauldron... and we've got a world walker stuck in Prythian who may want to leave with one more sword than she landed with... seems like special weapon forging might be a useful skill. If only there was someone who could make magical metal objects without the powers of some spooky void or magical land decree...

Oh wait... we do have that person. And perhaps she also has a whole team of alchemists like her.

That's right folks... the last part... of this first part...

Back to Nuan and Other Faerie Realms

Oh my god this is so long. If you're still reading... I think we're officially betrothed? Idk. I love you.

Ok, so Nuan is described to us as so unique looking (look, I am not saying this is a great moment from SJM) she can only compare her to Amren... a [we have no idea but lots of speculation] being from another world.

Then we get a stark moment of xenophobia from Beron during the Dawn Court-High Lords meeting... because Nuan's parents are from a Fae realm called Xian. Xian is a faerie territory located somewhere in the Continent (I will speculate a ton below) that notably supported the loyalists during the war that resulted in the wall between the mortal lands and the fae realm. That means Xian was pro human slavery and that they ultimately lost. Nuan follows this up by reminding High Lord Asshat that she is as Prythian as his sons (let's go girl).

Beron's outburst also causes Thesan to jump to her defense because (that's his girl) his mom was from Xian... actually the majority of his court is from Xian?

ALRIGHTY THEN! Where to start?

So first off, just extrapolating from what we get in this exchange re: Xian... a place like most places SJM has not explained at all to us in that we know almost nada about it. If Xian supported the loyalists... and then they lost... and then a bunch of fae relocated to the Dawn Court in search of "a better life," we might (read: I do) assume that this was a territory south of the wall. Faeries, after the war, were not allowed to stay in the southern part of the continent.

Why do I find this interesting? Why have I spent 800 years getting to this point about an alchemist from Xian? Why do I even think alchemy is worth spending this much time thinking about when this is the only time we encounter it in ACOTAR?

Well, because it's not the only time we encounter it in the SJM multiverse.

So, in TOG, there are alchemists on the Southern continent who provide really important firelances to Aelin & co.'s fight against the Valg. A magical, very effective weapon that non-magical beings can use... and it's so impressive Aelin is relieved that her waning fire magic will be supported by such... firepower.

You know what else conveniently pops on the Southern continent in TOG? Healers and their Torre Cesme... Yrene Towers ilu. Isn't it just so coincidental that the Dawn Court's powers just so happen to be healing powers? And that in the TOG world there's an entire Fae healer community that relocated to the Southern Continent, bred healing powers into the mortal population, and then just... disappears? And also like are dead in crypts that are unbreakable for Valg related reasons, but I digress.

And something else that's fun is that Thesan and Nuan aren't even the only characters in that scene to get a cryptic allusion to a familiar sounding Southern continent that is notably... not one we've met via ACOTAR.

When Feyre describes Helion (it always comes back to him doesn't it?) in, yes, that meeting of the High Lords at the Dawn Court... I swear to all these freaking gods I didn't plan this! Anyway, she "all the sudden for some weird reason" starts thinking about a place her dad (feeling like I have to do a deep dive on Papa Archeron because the more I research not looking for him the more he pops up) visited as a merchant — south-eastern kingdom that sounds suspiciously Antica from Tower of Dawn. And we know when she thinks fondly of her father's merchant days she also always brings up spices... so there's that. (worth noting that this scene with Helion is BIG in my pt. 2 post)

So, obviously we get allusions to actual empires/places within these "different realms" in the SJM multiverse. Xi'an is the name of a real province in China (and has gifted the world so much food-wise and i'm sure countless other ways but I wont rest until I have cuminy lamby noodles asap) and the Khagnate/Southern Continent of the TOG world draws inspiration from the Mongol Empire (how I feel about SJM's... useage of these empires is it's own separate convo). It also includes a lot of the territories where alchemy sprung up independently and thrived that I mentioned before.

Sadly I'm out of images I can post (holy crap), so just... google it

Cool so we've got a lot of relevant territories covered here re: their SJM multiverse parallel.

Obviously Amren is the mystery that keeps giving and tons of people have their theories about her... and I guess SJM at one point said she's some kind of archangel... personally? IDK! Do I think it's strange, in my untangling of this curious maybe from another world territory population, that Amren... a being we know is from another world chose a Xian fae body? Yup! Especially because the southern continent, as we learn in Tower of Dawn from the Stygian Spyders (her handmaidens... which is what I thought Amren could have been, but that's not my theory battle I choose to fight) that there was a big ol' door/portal/whatever that Maeve walked herself and clique through. Hm...

Also, let us not forget when Nuan casually mentioned in her alchemic practice that the "Mother provides everything [they] need on this earth." What does she know that we doooon't?

And while I know I've wanted more, more of the other solar courts — I think perhaps they've been held back because they'll play an integral role in whatever happens next. I mean in addition to everything else Thesan's got a population of winged beings that sound suspiciously like Midgard's angels and Helion's got the only flying horsies (and libraries... I cannot stress how preoccupied I am with libraries in these worlds).

Re: Dawn Court... light-filled healers in TOG (specifically Yrene) play an essential role when it comes to the Valg (who we're not 100% are also the Asteri or Daglan, but let's say they're in the same fam). Yrene can "cure" the people the Valg infect and *the biggest of TOG spoilers* she kills the big bad Valg with her powers. But before she does that... Erawan (which will always just remind me of the fancy shmancy grocery store) wants to capture her and says her powers/what she can do goes far beyond what she understands... and... at the end of the day... us too... SARAH!!!

I will be doing a verrrry deep dive into TOG-world healers because every single page I read describing... like anything about them was making my SJM insanity senses tingle. We haven't spent a lot of time with Thesan and his powers, but we know Feyre's blood can heal others so... curious to see where that one leads.

But the other thing we've got in TOG is a lot of people of varying... let's call them heritages having varied power abilities... and even humans being able to use magic (like wyrdmarks). They've also got a god city and scions and I simply cannot spend anymore time going on tangents here, but know I only have more questions... no answers... help.

OMG we made it. To recap we've got: connections to other faerie realms (whether in ACOTAR or the multiverse which would implicate some world walking), we've got alchemists/alchemy, we've got healers, we've got two light wielding courts with some magic overlap and, and at the very least, magic irregularities. We've got gods all over the place. We've got... so many questions... but hopefully some thought provoking parallels!

If I had to make my very bold "conclusion" to whatever hellscape of a hypothesis this is it's that I do believe the Dawn Court and the Day Court have some mix and matching travel/world walking situations with the southern continent in TOG and ditto for that relationship regarding more elemental fae and Midgard. And with alchemy (that I really hope either exists in this world, manifests as just witches like babes I'll take it) acting as the connecting thread between the power balances of the worlds... idk I think we're gonna get some answers there. And I think perhaps they'll be very important to connecting the worlds.

Mostly... this is my plea to SJM to bring back Nuan! Tell us about the other glowing boys (Thesan & Helion).

Seriously, if you read any of this... thank you and just know I'm sending you a little virtual kiss. Ok, let's both go touch some grass now.

Pt. II is mostly written and coming to a tumblr near you soon.

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deathweaved · 1 year

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" There's this dream I have, sometimes ... Lordaeron, golden and green. Skies bluer than the sea. Scent of rose petals in the air. " His laugh is hollow, but what sound can they make that isn't? " Always end up in the Plaguelands, regardless where I fell asleep. Dunno which is worse --- waking where the paladins haven't yet restored, or waking where they have. "

ic asks always make me happy ily ♡

— @acherys

He remembers watching the sunrise with his brother, sometimes. It isn't a clear memory; sometimes he thinks they watched it from a tall spire at home, and sometimes he is convinced it had been no more than Eversong's tall trees. Most of his life is no longer easily remembered, and there is so much about Faltora he has forgotten. Koltira knows, however, that it wasn't something that happened routinely, but that it was special when it did.

Zoen makes a habit of it, he has noticed. And sometimes he joins, when he seems not to mind the company.

There is no preamble to the tale of her dreams, yet the moment she speaks Koltira turns to listen. It's easy to forget, sometimes, that they are a patchwork quilt of different origins; if death had a way of making differences meaningless, the Ebon Blade's bond only further coalesces the unity, race and language as irrelevant as factions and former allegiances.

A part of it lingers, sometimes. It did, in him; in not abandoning thalassian entirely, in having sought Quel'thalas before any other place. He will not assume it is the same for the Deathlord, at least not in the same way. But there are some things death does not erase — they would never have been freed otherwise.

His arms rest upon the balcony, weight supported by it, and his head turns to the rising dawn once more. "Must be truly terrible regardless, if paladin presence doesn't make it considerably worse," The dour humor of his words is not callous, but sympathetic; there is not one among their number without scars from terrible deeds. Tragedy followed them from the start, otherwise they would not be here.

"Have you been to Lordaeron, after death?" It would not be the same, of course, but he understands the longing — the desire to thread once more the ground of what had been home. Perhaps his line of thought is wrong, but it seems harmless to inquire when she spoke of the dream so willingly. A wry smile as Koltira glances at him once more. "Other than to save prisoners from the Undercity, that is?"

"Perhaps the better option would be to see it with open eyes from the start," he offers. "Just a thought."

#» in character — ⌜death alone cannot stop us.⌟#acherys

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aidanchaser · 9 months

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Boulangérella: A Miraculous Fairy Tale AU - Chapter Sixteen

Table of Contents Read on Ao3 Prologue

beta’d by @7wizardsshallanswerthecall, @mothmanhamlet, @ccboomer and @aubsenroute

Adrien did not sleep that night. Even as tired as he was, he spent the night staring up at the golden canopy above his head. He was worn down from two nights in a row as Chat Noir and an emotional day strung between those nights. He had taken a grand leap from mourning wear into finery for a ball, he had defended the palace from one of Hawk Moth’s attacks, he had endured Chloé and Lila at the ball, and had, after nearly letting her walk off of a wall, kissed Mademoiselle Dupain-Cheng.

He pressed his fingers to his swollen cheek and winced. He had no idea how he was going to explain this to his father.

“Plagg, you can’t heal me, can you?”

Plagg barked out a soft laugh that dissolved into a lazy hum. He shifted from his fay form into the shape of a black cat and kneaded the pillow with his claws.

Adrien had expected no less.

He maintained his staring contest with the canopy over his head, waiting for exhaustion to overcome him, but the throbbing pain in his face and the memory of his kiss with Mademoiselle Dupain-Cheng kept him too warm for sleep.

“Do you think my father would be more likely to let me marry Ladybug or a baker’s daughter?” he asked.

Despite the closed eyes and slow, snore-like purrs, Plagg grunted, “How on earth should I know that?”

Adrien fidgeted with the ring around his finger. He had expected his father to say something about his choice to spend the evening with Lila, but Gabriel had not. Was his father really going to let him choose his wife like he had promised? If he was, well, Adrien had already been rejected by Ladybug, and Mademoiselle Dupain-Cheng had someone else, but maybe he could find a woman who was at least a smidge more tolerable as a partner than Lila. Maybe he ought to try a proper conversation with Kagami.

But there was one problem with that train of thought.

“Do you really think Lila can save my mother?” Adrien asked the night, and he was answered only by Plagg’s snores.

The sky turned gray as dawn crept ever closer. Adrien threw his arm over his face in an attempt to block out the encroaching light, but his mind would not settle into sleep.

He kept thinking about his kiss with Mademoiselle Dupain-Cheng. It had been foolish, stupid, and impulsive. He wanted to blame Plagg for it, but the truth was that he had enjoyed it just as much. She had smelled like fresh bread and wildflowers and he had felt more at home pressed against her than he felt in this bed.

But she had someone else.

But she’d also kissed him back.

Adrien pressed his hands to his eyes and wailed, both with emotional distress and physical pain as his face throbbed beneath the pressure of his palms. He shouldn’t be interested in courting a girl who kissed two boys on the same night.

But he was no better, proposing to Ladybug and then kissing the seamstress.

“Plagg, what do I do?” he cried.

“Go to bed already,” Plagg grunted.

But dawn broke, and Adrien still did not sleep. Cold winter light poured through his bedroom windows as dawn became day, and still, he did not sleep. He stared up at his gilded canopy, and could not help but wonder if there was any chance at happiness for him. If he could find Ladybug at the ball somehow, perhaps he could convince her to fall in love with him. She had said that he was her best friend, so maybe she just needed to get to know another side of him for that friendship to transform.

There was a sharp, efficient knock on his door and before Adrien could work up a protest, Nathalie pushed her way into his room.

“Adrien, what are you doing still in bed? You’re expected to have breakfast with Princess Kagami in just twenty minutes.”

“I’m awake,” he grunted, and forced himself to sit up.

Nathalie gasped. “Your face—oh, goodness—” But there was no sympathy in her eyes. They were strangely cold as she left the way she had come in.

Adrien was bemused. Nathalie was not exactly affectionate, but he had expected some sort of concern. He pulled his dressing robe on and Plagg dove into the pocket with uncharacteristic determination. Adrien appreciated the fay creature’s efforts to stay by his side ever since their unfortunate separation during the Gilded Queen’s attack.

He stepped out into the hallway just in time to see Nathalie disappear into Félix’s rooms.

Adrien’s stomach dropped as he remembered the stolen goods he had left under Félix’s bed. In the wake of Lila’s pronouncement and his kiss with Mademoiselle Dupain-Cheng, he had forgotten to retrieve Chloé’s shoes.

He hurried after Nathalie, hoping that he might be able to prevent or undo any damage his forgetfulness might have caused.

“Nathalie?” he called, as he pushed open the door to his cousin’s room. “Félix? Is something wrong?”

Nathalie had hurried to Félix’s bedside, where he lay with his arm draped over his eyes to block out the worst of the morning sun.

“Adrien,” she hissed, but not at him; instead she shook Félix’s shoulder. “You’re supposed to be getting ready for breakfast.”

Félix had not slept at all last night. He had lain awake, staring at his own golden canopy. He’d entertained an unusually significant level of self-pity while considering his brief, largely one-sided conversation with his uncle.

But despite his uncle’s reticence, Félix had deduced several things.

Gabriel was desperate not for the capture of a wanted thief but for the ring of chaos and destruction. Gabriel also spent every summer hunting in the Forest of Fay—but not last summer, suggesting that the hunt two summers ago might have been successful.

The timing, however, still did not make sense to Félix. Hawk Moth, Ladybug, and Chat Noir—and lately Volpina—were the only people who were known to have deals with fay, and they had not appeared in the city until after Emilie had fallen asleep. And those appearances were timed with Michel’s disappearance.

If Félix were optimistic, like Adrien, he might wonder if Michel had become Hawk Moth, hiding out in the city, perhaps waging a war on Gabriel and the kingdom for some unknown slight. But Félix was not an optimist. He was painfully practical and it was hard to forget how Gabriel had insisted on funerary services after Michel’s disappearance. Not a bounty nor a search, but a swift end to the story. And there was one more fact left to account for: Gabriel had ended up with Michel’s ring.

Félix could not be sure what the impetus was for Gabriel taking the ring from Michel, nor what Gabriel wanted with Chat Noir’s gift. Perhaps Michel had insinuated that Félix could lay claim to the throne over Adrien. Perhaps Emilie falling asleep had made Gabriel paranoid. Maybe Gabriel wanted to use the power of destruction on Félix and get rid of him once and for all. Félix couldn’t say, and he honestly didn’t care. He only knew that Gabriel had made his father disappear and he was only interested in getting his revenge.

His anger kept him awake all night, and he was not pleased when Nathalie burst into his room and shook him.

“I’m awake,” he snarled, and pulled his arm away from his face.

Nathalie gasped, though Félix couldn’t understand why. She’d been there when he had received the vicious mark on his face. He sat up and was startled to see Adrien standing in his doorway, bearing a similar mark.

“What happened to your face?” they asked in unison.

Nathalie glanced between the two of them and debated her options. When she had seen Adrien in bed, face purple and swollen, she had assumed that the princes had switched places, as they had enjoyed doing as boys. She had been annoyed, particularly when the ruse was so terrible with one so obviously injured. Now that she was in Félix’s chambers with both boys equally wounded, she was unsure what to do. It wasn’t a feeling she was familiar with.

“Adrien?” she asked.

The one in the doorway answered, “Yes, Nathalie?”

It sounded naïve enough to be Adrien, but the boys had always been good at fooling her. She would feel worse about being unable to tell them apart if she did not know the truth of how they had been born.

Nathalie settled on her course of action. If the boys wanted to play games today, they could play them. She had other, more important work to attend to.

“You’re expected at breakfast with the Tsurugis,” she said, “but heaven help you if you show up looking like that.”

Adrien brushed his fingers against the bruise. “I can’t really do anything about it.”

He was only half-right. There was nothing he could do about it before breakfast, at least. Nathalie could not help but wonder if he had somehow done it on purpose to get out of his duties. Gabriel always thought of Félix as the trickier of the two boys, but Adrien had enough wiles of his own when he wanted them.

Well, on purpose or not, Nathalie had two princes with bruised cheeks and even if she felt partially culpable for one of those bruises—though she had never expected Gabriel to actually hurt Félix, she felt guilty for not having tried to stop him—she had a responsibility as head of the palace staff to see to it that the princes were presentable for the ball that evening.

“I’ll smooth things over with the Tsurugis. You’ll stay in your rooms until the ball. In fact, better that you both stay here in this room so that no one else on staff sees you like this.”

“Wait, but what about our fitting?” the prince in the doorway asked.

Nathalie couldn’t be sure, but she thought that there was disappointment in his voice. “I’ll see to it that you’re powdered before Mademoiselle Dupain-Cheng arrives. In the mean time, I’ve already sent for a courier to bring snow from the mountains, but I’ll send for more. You two will do everything you can to hide that swelling.”

The prince still in bed looked up at her with a dull, knowing glare. “Is that an order?”

“It can be,” she said simply, and left.

Adrien sank into Félix’s bed with a tragic and dramatic sigh. “Well, cousin, it looks like we’re stuck together all day. And no other company until tonight.”

Félix said nothing. He merely laid back down and resumed his miserable attempt to sleep.

“It could be worse,” Adrien offered in a tone that suggested that he was looking for his own comfort as much as offering it to Félix. “We could be wining and dining the Tsurugis or the Bourgeoises or the Rossis or all three at the same time.”

Félix did not so much as grunt a pity-laugh.

“I’ll tell you how I got mine if you tell me how you got yours.”

Félix wasn’t sure he would if he could.

Félix liked secrets. He hoarded them the way a king hoarded armies. He certainly didn’t see the benefit of telling Adrien that their lives and lineages were wholly lies, and their entire existence and independence hinged on a pair of wedding bands. If Félix thought about that for too long, let alone voiced it, he might go mad.

But it was impossible to know if he wanted the secret of his injury to stay secret because that was who he was, or if he wanted this secret because Gabriel had told him to keep it.

And he hated that he would never know.

“I walked into a frying pan on my way to bed,” Félix muttered.

“Interesting. I fell into a wall.”

Félix’s lip curled with a sneer, but he kept his eyes closed. “Draw the curtains, would you? If we don’t have to be anywhere, I’m going to sleep.”

Adrien stifled a yawn and did as his cousin asked. He wondered if he would be able to get some sleep, or if he would find just as much success in Félix’s bed as he had found in his own.

Sleep did indeed prove just as elusive here as it had been in his own chambers. He could feel Plagg rummaging in his pocket for a comfortable sleeping position, but the fay creature seemed no more capable of rest than Adrien.

“Félix, are you awake?” Adrien whispered.

“No,” Félix replied dully.

“You always know things about the noble families and other royals, right?”

Félix made a loud mockery of snoring.

Adrien sat up. “This is serious, please?”

Félix tore his arm away from his face and looked up at Adrien. His gray eyes were dull in the dim light that fought its way through the curtain, and the bruise spread across his right cheek looked nearly black.

Adrien was used to his cousin’s mellow temperament, but there was something unusually dour about him today.

“Are you really all right?” Adrien asked.

“What’s your question?” Félix asked, and Adrien raised an inquisitive eyebrow. He knew what it was to avoid a question with another question.

Though the princes were not twins, many presumed so when meeting them for the first time. It was hard for anyone, even their parents to tell them apart, but those who knew them well learned that Adrien’s smile came more easily, and Félix’s eyes were often a few degrees colder than Adrien’s.

It was easy for these people to assume that Félix was the shrewd, calculating prince, and Adrien the earnest, charming prince. But even that distinction belied the truth, the truth that only the princes knew: that Félix yearned for affection as much as Adrien did, and that Adrien could be just as calculating as his cousin when he wanted to be. And now Félix knew why. They were both made of Emilie’s determination to fulfill her duties and her love for her family. Though Félix and Adrien wore those feelings in different ways, they weighed equally in the princes’ hearts.

“I thought we didn’t have secrets from each other,” Adrien said.

Félix’s stomach turned. What if he had been honest with Adrien two nights ago? What if he had said, “Actually, I found my father’s ring on your father’s hand. What do you know about it?”

But that was a foolish thought exercise. Not only could he not change the past, but even if he could, even if he sought out some fay creature that would let him manipulate time and undo that single moment, what would he gain? He had known nothing about the ring worth telling Adrien, and surely Adrien didn’t know the truth of their birth—or rather, their creation.

So Félix considered what he did want to tell Adrien. It was less like searching for the loopholes in a binding contract and more like feeling the swell and draw of a tide. There were things he wanted to share and things that he did not, and perhaps if he shared everything, even what he didn’t want to, until he could not share any longer, it might be enough to unravel Gabriel’s plans. If Félix could no longer rely on secrets, perhaps he could rely on surprise.

“I talked to my mother last night,” Félix said.

“About?” Adrien prodded when Félix lapsed into another silence.

This was harder than Félix had thought it would be. He was used to restraint, not unabashed vulnerability.

“About my father,” he finally said.

Adrien waited for Félix to continue, but when he did not, he simply said, “I’m sorry. I know—” Adrien bit down on his tongue before he broached a topic that might be too much for him or his cousin.

But Félix’s eyes turned from dull to sharp in the space of a heartbeat. “What do you know?”

“Nothing, I—I just… I know you always hoped he’d come back.” Adrien swallowed as hurt bloomed in Félix’s eyes. In an effort to soften the blow he added, “Like I always hoped my mother would wake up.”

But it did no good to return a blow with a self-inflicted wound.

Félix closed his eyes and gritted his teeth. “You’re pathetic.”

Adrien laid back down. “I know.”

His question about Lila’s family seemed like an insult now, but if anyone had the answers, it would be Félix or Ladybug, and he had already tried and failed to ask Ladybug.

“Last night, Lila told me that she could bring my mother back.”

Félix added this new fact to his collection of secrets. It explained why Adrien had clung to her at the ball last night, at least. He wondered briefly if it was a weapon Félix could wield against Gabriel, but that was a foolish thought exercise. The minute he teased anything that might give him leverage, Gabriel could simply demand that Félix tell him and Félix would be unable to resist the compulsion.

“Will you tell your father?” Félix asked.

“I’m afraid of what he might do to Lila if he knew.”

That was a fair concern, Félix thought, even as the bruise on his face stung.

“Do you want to marry Lila?”

“No.”

“Do you want to marry Kagami or Chloé?”

“No.”

“Do you want to marry at all?”

And this time, Adrien did not answer. Félix considered the conversation he and Adrien had had two nights ago. Adrien was in love, but he would not say with who.

But marrying for love was not an option either of them had, certainly not while their lives were bound to a ring under Gabriel’s control. Félix wondered why Gabriel had even bothered to let him try and convince Adrien to willingly choose Kagami, when he could just as easily command Adrien to love Kagami and it would be done. Maybe Gabriel still had some respect for his vow he had made to Emilie to never use the rings. Félix could not help but feel an unfortunate amount of self-pity that Gabriel did not have more respect for that vow. And misery loved, more than anything, company to commiserate with.

But even if Félix were free to tell, he was not sure that he would want to rip that illusion of independence out from beneath Adrien. He did not think that he wanted to be the one who finally broke Adrien Agreste’s smile, however weak and sad it was, for good.

The sudden and efficient knock on Félix’s door announced Nathalie only moments before she pushed her way in, bearing a tray laden with freshly fallen snow.

She carried it to Félix’s bedside. “You’re lucky its winter. I’ll have another cart ready for you in three hours. Don’t you dare light a fire or put it in the sun. Keep it on your face until it burns. You can take a break in-between snowpacks, but that swelling better be gone by the time I come up here to get you ready for the ball. Is that clear?”

“Yes, Nathalie,” the princes replied in dull harmony.

And then she was gone, back to the duties of preparing the palace for the gala that evening.

Adrien plucked a handkerchief from the tray and piled a fistful of snow into the linen. He handed it to Félix, then prepared one for himself.

Adrien laid back down beside his cousin and pressed the snow against his face. He winced at the painful chill, but did as Nathalie had asked and held it against his bruise. He supposed it would not be so bad to try and reduce the swelling. Perhaps it might even make his injury less offensive to his father.

“Lila has to be lying, right?” Adrien asked. He couldn’t say whether he wanted Lila to be honest or not. Which was more terrible to face: a future with Lila Rossi or a future without his mother?

Félix considered the story his mother had told him last night. If she had been right, that Queen Emilie had fallen asleep because she had made a deal to give herself an heir, then what sort of deal would Lila have to make to bring her back? But he couldn’t even tell Adrien the truth of why Queen Emilie had fallen asleep.

“If she is telling the truth,” he said, “do you think you’d be prepared to pay that sort of price?”

“What?”

“The fay will ask for something in return. It might be more than you or Lila can give.”

Adrien considered the fay in his pocket. Plagg had not asked for much, and neither had Tikki. Lila, though, had sacrificed her grandmother’s life to gain access to Trixx’s power. What would it cost to bring his mother back? Adrien wasn’t willing to pay in human lives, certainly. But how much of his own life might he give just to have his mother again?

“I have a secret I’ve been keeping from you,” Adrien managed.

Félix hummed noncommittally, certain Adrien had nothing so terrible as the secrets Félix had been forced to bear.

“I’m in love with Ladybug.”

Félix burst into laughter. He sat up, hand clutching his stomach as he laughed uncontrollably. He could not remember the last time he had laughed so hard. Certainly nothing in the last year had ever been so funny.

He wiped a tear from his cheek. “That was fantastic; tell me another.”

Adrien stared up at him, pout half-hidden beneath the handkerchief full of snow. “I’m serious.”

“You can’t be.”

But Adrien’s jaw was set in that unique stubborn way that Félix recognized from chess matches that Adrien had refused to lose or arguments with their tutors about the duty of a ruler to sacrifice the few for the many.

“You can’t be,” Félix said again, but it was much more plaintive and agonized this time. He fell back down on the bed beside Adrien. “God, pathetic doesn’t begin to cover it, does it?”

“I have another, if you want me to make it worse.”

“Please, do go on.”

“I kissed Mademoiselle Dupain-Cheng.”

“Are you trying to kill me? Adrien, have you ever even kissed Chloé?”

“She’s kissed me. Anyway, who have you kissed besides your mother?”

“That nice girl in pink kissed me last night,” Félix said, and hated how defensive he sounded.

“She also kissed that boy in the band, the one with the green cape.”

“Good for her. I wasn’t going to marry her.”

“I’m just saying, if that’s your baseline, it can’t be a very good one.”

“Maybe she’s an excellent kisser because she’s so well-practiced.”

“She can’t be better than Mademoiselle Dupain-Cheng.”

“I’m going to tell Nathalie that you got your face bruised from kissing so many girls until one of them slapped you,” Félix snorted.

“So was it the girl in pink or the boy in green that slapped you?”

“Neither, it was—” And though Félix had no desire to tell Adrien the truth, and had only tried to say it in a jest that Adrien was never meant to take seriously, the breath was stolen from his lungs as surely as if he had been punched in the stomach.

“Félix?”

“I’m fine,” Félix gasped. He wanted to die. He wanted to sink into this bed and never emerge.

If Gabriel had never commanded him to keep this secret, he probably would have kept it anyway. But the fact that he didn’t have the freedom to even speak about what had happened in a joke, not even in a way where no one would believe him, drove home just how dire his situation was.

“Félix—”

“I’m fine,” he repeated, putting as much force into the words as he could muster.

“Did…” Adrien swallowed and turned his head to get a look at his cousin’s face. He didn’t like the agony he saw there, but tilting his head allowed him to shove the ice between his cheek and the bed and relax his shoulders a bit. “You said you talked to your mother last night?” he asked, voice careful.

But Félix knew the question Adrien was truly asking and he hated both how close Adrien was to the truth and yet how far he still was. “She didn’t do this.”

“You’d tell me if she did?”

“Do you really think she would?”

“No… but… when she and my father get angry, they… they aren’t always themselves.”

Félix tasted the question on his tongue and he found no resistance. Tentatively, he asked, “Has your father ever struck you before?”

“No, never. But—” Adrien swallowed. “But sometimes I think he wants to, until he sees my mother in my face.”

I don’t know if that would stop him, considering you and I have the same face, Félix thought, but if it was his own courtesy or Gabriel’s command that held his tongue, he couldn’t say.

“For better or worse, he does want you to be happy,” Félix finally said, knowing it was as close to the full truth as he was allowed to get.

“I suppose that’s something,” Adrien murmured.

Félix closed his eyes and considered his own happiness. He had spent his life wanting to please his parents and the past year trying to make his mother happy despite their shared grief; he supposed Adrien must have lived with those same feelings. They were created for the purpose of pleasing their parents, and what more was there for them?

He couldn’t save himself, and he didn’t see how he could save Adrien, but maybe he could give Adrien something more, at least for a moment. At least until Adrien was, inevitably, as trapped as he was.

“Are you asleep?” he asked quietly.

“Yes,” Adrien laughed.

“I’ll take care of it.”

“What?”

“I’ll take care of Lila.”

“You don’t have to—”

“I know.”

Adrien struggled to read the hard glare in Félix’s eyes. Somewhere in him, he knew that Lila’s offer was perhaps not as kind as she pretended, but he did not think it warranted the anger Félix cast at the canopy above them.

But Félix had anger to spare, and if he could not fight back against Gabriel then perhaps he could at least try to protect Adrien.

The two princes drifted in and out of sleep, and in their brief waking moments, took to private plotting. One contemplated revenge, the other love. Neither made much progress. They were interrupted only by a fresh tray piled high with snow and Nathalie inspecting their faces to make sure the swelling had indeed reduced as she had hoped.

She seemed perhaps not pleased, but satisfied at the least. “Mademoiselle Dupain-Cheng has just arrived and delivered your clothes. I’ll be back shortly to cover your bruises before she fits you.” And then she was gone again.

Adrien patted his cheek dry before applying another handkerchief full of snow. The cold did numb the pain, at least.

“Does Mademoiselle Dupain-Cheng know what happened to your face?” Félix asked with a raised eyebrow.

“She does,” Adrien replied, though he supposed she would not recognize him. “Er—maybe don’t mention the kiss to her. It’s a bit of a… touchy subject?”

Félix quirked an eyebrow. “How so?”

“She, er—she has an intended, I think.”

Both of Félix’s eyebrows shot up.

“It was a mutual kiss, I swear!” Adrien protested.

“You’re forgetting that you’re a prince. She’s supposed to do whatever you say.”

“It wasn’t like that.”

But Félix’s eyes were still suspicious, so Adrien tried for levity.

“Her intended is the musician in the green cape.”

Félix laughed again, unsure where this newfound humor was coming from. Had Adrien always been so funny? Perhaps now that Félix had a noose around his neck he no longer had to be wary of danger. Maybe simply knowing it was close at hand rather than suspecting it was around every corner made laughter easier.

“So will the musician challenge you to a duel tonight?” Félix asked.

“Only if you tell him what I did.”

Félix considered it. “A duel would certainly make the ball more interesting—”

He was cut short by a loud crash outside the window.

Adrien pulled back the curtain and glanced into the gardens below. People were fleeing in a panic. He shoved open the window and stuck his head out. He traced back the paths of the crowds towards the north side of the palace. They were running from the throne room. A loud crack, followed by the almost musical sound of shattering glass echoed through the gardens, and Adrien could only think of one window large enough to cause a crash that loud.

“Something’s gotten into the throne room.” He hurried for the door but Félix grabbed his arm.

“What are you going to do, Adrien? We’re safer here—”

“My father could be in trouble.”

Félix swallowed. He wanted to tell Adrien that he didn’t care about Gabriel, but he knew that if he did, it could be enough to allow Adrien to connect this new, outright distaste with a fresh bruise. And if he knew Adrien might learn the truth, he did not want to give it voice. Or he could not give it voice.

He didn’t know the difference between what he wanted and what Gabriel wanted anymore.

He let Adrien go.

Adrien burst from Félix’s room so quickly that he nearly fell into the other end of the hallway. He ran for the stairs, robe flying behind him, and paused only to duck into a dark alcove and whisper, “Plagg, claws out!”

#miraculous ladybug #miraculous ladybug fanfic #ml fic #ml fanfic #ml #ml fairy tale au #adrien agreste #felix fathom

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hiraya-rawr · 2 years

Note

Hello! I saw your friendship post and oh boy it gave me brain rots, especially since I have Xiao at almost lvl 10 friendship but I don't have Zhongli so was thinking how tf is this gonna work?? I'd rather not have Xiao kill me but my baby's gonna be conflicted on whether or not he carried out Zhongli's orders or break them cause of me.

I just hope Zhongli is reasonable enough to listen to Xiao but.. yeah copium-

nooo I cant take found family tension!! 😭😖

I've read a few sagau works where Xiao finds reader and 'betrays' Zhongli, but here's my two centavos on the idea. Additional note: I like imposter AU where there's an actual imposter god making cruel orders to kill you rather than having the characters take the lead.

–––

Xiao would definitely be the first one to find you in Liyue. The moment rumors of an imposter started, Zhongli already told him to "deal with it" and to "not let such filthy things taint Liyue" so he's been on guard ever since.

He'll think of making your death quick bc Xiao is merciful that way (he fights demons, not mortals). So when he notices you and teleports in front of you, spear pointed, ready to strike, he suddenly feels warmth.

Honestly the best SAGAU trope about Xiao is the use of his karmic debt. Just, karmic debt disappearing near you and he immediately knows it's you. So he kneels and apologizes and he's just so ashamed of not recognizing you and ofc you're just relieved it's okay now.

He isn't afraid of breaking Zhongli's orders, in fact he'd be happy to enlighten his master with the truth. Xiao, despite being a yaksha, isn't exactly the most powerful authority figure in Liyue so ofc his first line of thought would be to tell approach Zhongli but Zhongli is entirely convinced that he's been brainwashed or tricked. There are quite a few medicines that can alleviate karmic debt even for a moment, perhaps Xiao was just misguided.

I don't think Zhongli would turn against Xiao or vice versa honestly. They'll both think the other is disillusioned and part ways.

Although Xiao might just be able to convince Zhongli to see the imposter themselves. Zhongli agrees but more on bc he wants to figure out how you tricked his son and he hasn't seen you yet (he's 90% thinking of killing you but is willing to be patient for Xiao). Perhaps by then, you've figured out the golden blood thing or starry qualities or other godly abilities and be able to convince him. Someone who's 6000+ years old has GOT TO KNOW how to differentiate lies from truth, right?

Lore-personality wise, it sounds like a pretty solid plan. Zhongli is convinced and he apologizes and he approaches the Qixing secretly to overthrow the true imposter etc etc happy ending!

But in the Cult AU, he might be a bit too obsessed over the fake god to realize the truth or to be patient. In that case, there may be some moments you find Xiao and Zhongli clashing spears.

Zhongli would go easy on Xiao and he still thoroughly believes that you're tricking this poor soft boy 🥺 his real aim is you anyway

Expect to get badly injured. Xiao reaches you and immediately transports away, leaving a trail of golden blood on the ground.

Earthquakes shake the ground as the devastating truth dawns on the former geo archon. The ground cracks and groans as if in agony. After the shameful realization of not only hurting you but also not trusting Xiao, Zhongli is angry. There are mountains rising from his footsteps as he makes his way to the false creator and he pricks them to see red blood before slaughtering them on their throne. Or yknow, maybe in front of everyone in Liyue to make a statement.

This diverted a bit from your post but anyway honestly, the trope can only go a few ways. Either Zhongli trusts Xiao enough or he doesn't.

*screams in found family*

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tenisperfection · 2 years

Text

Bastion, a May and Eddie friendship fic set at dispatch, partly inspired by this post by @breakdowndiaz!

May's familiar orange lunch bag drops on Eddie's desk at 12:30 pm sharp. Eddie holds up a finger before she can suck him into the latest office gossip, and in response, May makes an impatient noise.

“Hey now,” Eddie says, finally turning away from his computer as May drops into the lone chair that has somehow become hers. “You know the entire city will collapse if I don’t tweet about construction near the Hollywood sign.”

“Can't have that," May agrees, pulling two large boxes out of her bag. "So what is it today?"

Eddie pulls out his own lunch with a flourish. "Enchiladas," he announces, and May gasps.

"You did it!" she yells. "Wait till Linda gets here, oh my god."

"I have boxes for both of you to take home," Eddie says. "What do you have?"

"I was home for dinner last night," May says, and Eddie smells Bobby's signature mac and cheese before he sees the crispy, cheesy, golden top as May opens one of the containers. Eddie's stomach rumbles loudly.

"I haven't had this in so long," Eddie says. May shoots him a look as she nudges the other container towards him.

"He knows, that's why I carry back two boxes every time I go there for dinner." She doesn't say You can have it all the time if only you aren't a stubborn asshole. Eddie appreciates that, even as shame fills him at the thought of Bobby taking care of him even after everything.

"I missed this," Eddie says quietly as he tries not to inhale the mac and cheese too quickly. He doesn't say I miss him. May probably knows.

May definitely knows.

"This came out really well," May says around a mouthful of enchilada.

Eddie waves a hand at her. "You can finish it, I'll probably end up having some when Buck comes over."

"Is he still sleeping on your couch?" May asks.

"Yeah," Eddie says, trying not to think of that first night Buck had come running or the way he's held Eddie as they crept under the duvet on Eddie's bed at the break of dawn.

May hums. "You know, if Buck doesn't use that apartment anymore, I'd be happy to house-sit for him."

"Yeah," Eddie teases. "Out of the goodness of your heart, I'm sure, and not at all because of the location."

"Of course!" May blinks. "Just as a favor of course, and I can even help him redecorate. personalize it a little, you know."

Eddie laughs. "If you manage to convince Buck to sign his lease over, he can stay with me."

"Out of the goodness of your heart, I'm sure," May says drily. Eddie's cheeks feel warm, and judging by her slight smirk, it hasn't gone unnoticed by May. She doesn't say anything though, at least not this time, and they instead spend most of their lunch as they always do: complaining about everything that they can.

"So Andy really read me for filth yesterday," May comments, shifting topics after a long and spirited discussion on her friends' circle's messy love triangle that lasts most of lunch. "Apparently the things I don't want to tell my mom about are things I don't want to think about myself."

Eddie smiles. "Sounds like something Frank would say. You okay though?"

"Yeah," May assures him. "Just more truth bombs for me to think about."

Eddie furrows his eyebrows. "Truth bombs?" he asks.

May laughs. "They're truths that can shake up your world. You know, like a bomb. I'm surprised you didn't ask about reading something for filth."

"Albert told me about that one," Eddie rolls his eyes. "I'm sure that whatever survives of the English language will be unrecognizable by the time Christopher goes to college."

"That reminds me," May says, polishing off the last of the enchiladas, "bastion."

"That's an easy one for word of the day," Eddie says. May nods.

"A place in which something continues to survive."

"Kind of like me here when Josh hates my fucking guts," Eddie comments.

May rolls her eyes. "He's such an asshole. I'm throwing a fucking party when Sue comes back. Thank god you're here, or else I'd have quit."

"Maddie might be back soon," Eddie reminds her, "so even if I'm not here, if—"

"When, not if," May interjects. "You'll go back out there soon, Eddie. I know it."

"If Bobby takes me back after all that," Eddie says quietly. May puts a hand over Eddie's.

"He asks about you every day and makes you lunch every chance he gets. All your favorite things, by the way. You still have doubts about him taking you back?"

Eddie doesn't mention the horrible things he'd said that make guilt eat up his insides, or the way he finishes every bit of food Bobby makes for him and sends through May as though he's still sitting in the firehouse kitchen, Bobby smiling at Eddie's empty plate like he was proud.

The lunches, Eddie likes to think, is the packaged version of Bobby's smile. Eddie inhaling every morsel of food is his apology.

A knock interrupts Eddie's stream of thought. May rolls her eyes at Eddie as she gets up and Josh pokes his head around the door.

"The dispatch's favorite duo!" Josh says with a laugh, "am I ever going to get an invite to these exclusive lunches?"

"It's a family thing, Josh," May announces as she approaches the doorway. "Thanks for the enchiladas, Eddie, I'll grab the box you made for me before I leave."

"Sure thing," Eddie says as May leaves. Inexplicably, the word bastion pops in his head again.

Eddie takes a deep breath and pastes a smile on his face before he turns to Josh, who looks a little out of place in this room that has somehow become Eddie's.

A place in which something continues to survive.

"What can I do for you?"

#911fic #5b fic #eddie and may #911 fox #this is nothing except a stream of consciousness

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forever-rogue · 3 years

Note

if you’re still taking requests for Bucky, can you do one from this quote if it sparks any inspiration: ‘when you realize you can tell someone your truth, when you can stand in front of them and show yourself and their response is “you’re safe with me” - that’s intimacy.’

A/N: please, this is so soft 🥺

Pairing: Bucky x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2.1k

Warnings: none

MASTERLIST

»»————-　♡　————-««

A heavy sigh escaped soft lips as Bucky laid on the couch and stared at the ceiling. There was almost no sound in the room besides the rhythmic ticking of the aging clock on the wall, combined with the sounds wafting in from the open window, and the almost non-existent humming of his vibranium appendage. He reached his hand up to his chest to ground himself by touching the dog tags that had been his for way too many years now. A temporary moment of panic set into his bones when he realized there was nothing there, but revelation quickly dawned on him as he remembered that they were currently with you. The last he’d seen them, you were wearing them, the metallic silver tags safely nestled under the soft fabric of your t-shirt.

When he’d given them to you, a sign of his desire to call you his, among other things, he never actually expected that you’d wear them. The first time he’d spied you wearing them, along a casual outfit consisting of jeans and a t-shirt and sneakers, he’d almost short circuited. There was something about comforting knowing they were safe and sound in your possession now. They were yours now too - just like he was.

A gentle tugging lifted the corners of his mouth into the semblance of a smile. How foreign it still felt sometimes, the gentle feeling of blossoming happiness and knowing he was loved. Loved. What a strange and odd concept that was. He couldn’t remember the last another soul had told him they loved him besides in the most platonic sense. But the first time you’d whispered those words to him, so effortlessly, so easily, I love you, his whole world came to a screeching halt and he was sent into a wild spiral that left him speechless. Bucky hadn’t reciprocated your words then; but it wasn’t long after that he did. It had been a half shout, half declaration as you just grinned at him, pulling him against your lips and only letting him go when you were both breathless and dizzy.

He relaxed at the thought, settling against the pillow as he reminded himself to swim in happy memories, rather than drown in the ghosts of the past.

His phone vibrated against the glass top of the coffee table as it startled him out of his stupor, causing him to almost roll off the couch in surprise. He scrambled to grab the phone, and relaxed when he saw your name on the screen. Straightening himself up, he cleared his throat before answering, “hi sweetheart.”

“Bucky!” your excited voice on the other end of the line made his heart relax as he just imagined you bouncing around your small floral shop, making sure everything was perfect, “it’s about time you answered, old man. I’ve called you like three times! Did I disturb your afternoon nap, Barnes?”

“Hey, watch who you’re calling an old man,” he snorted as he stood up and stretched, surprised by how easily you were able to read him, “I got decades on you, kid, respect your elders.”

“Respect me when I’m right,” you grinned as he laughed lightly. How easily everything seemed to flow between the two of you; he’d never thought he could have anything like this again. Even once he’d left Wakanda and life slowly went back to a semblance of normality after the Blip, he still had a hard time trusting people; perhaps, more than anything else, he didn’t trust himself.

While he knew he was himself again, Bucky, and not the Winter Soldier, he still was never quite convinced that he wouldn’t ever go back. For so long he had been nothing but a killer, it was hard to believe that he could ever be fully himself again. So he’d closed himself off, steeled himself, despite the constant reassurance from the people around him that it was okay to let others in. He couldn’t trust himself - after so long...how could he? How was he just supposed to be able to pick the pieces and just be James again?

But he was learning, over time, slowly, bit by bit, that it was okay to let people in, okay to feel, and be okay and also not be okay. Sure, some days were hard, but the good days were good. And they were getting to become more and more frequent.

“Bucky? Hello?” you called his name from the other line, trying to get him to snap back into attention, “James? James Buchanan Barnes?”

“S-sorry,” his voice was soft and gentle for a moment, “I...yeah.”

“Yeah,” you teased softly, “zoning out again huh, my love? I know how you get. What are you thinking about, Bucky?”

“Nothing much,” he admitted, shrugging to himself despite the fact that you weren’t able to see him, “when are you off?”

“Whenever I want to be,” you reminded him, “I’m the boss now, remember? Why do you ask? Got some grand plans for us?”

“Nah,” he confessed, “just want to come and see you. Is it okay if I stop in? I’d come and bring you some flowers...but that would seem a little...on the nose.”

“Ahh, look at you,” he could practically hear you grinning, “very clever, aren’t you? Come and see me - it’s been slow so I might as well close up when you get here. Maybe we can go for a walk and get dinner?”

“Sounds great,” he agreed softly, “see you soon.”

“See you soon, Bucky.”

»»————-　♡　————-««

While you waited for Bucky to arrive, a brilliant idea popped into your head. You quickly grabbed a vase and started to gather some of the flowers that reminded you of him. It wasn’t long before you had a variety of them, neatly arranged and topped off with a bow, ready and waiting for him. He walked into your small shop, ready to announce himself but quickly found that he didn’t have to.You were perched up on the counter, swinging your legs back and forth as you tilted your head to the side and studied him with a small smile. He was dressed casually today, sporting a dark blue henley and a pair of well fitting jeans. His arm, intricate and beautifully designed golden and black vibranium, wasn’t on full display, nor was it completely hidden. Progress; a step in the right direction, albeit small. He’d get there when he’d get there and if that took another five years or fifty, you planned on being there for him.

“Hi James,” you popped off the counter and met him halfway, letting him wrap you up and envelope you in his warm, tight grasp. His arms, his body, was your favorite place to be. You never felt more safe and secure than when you were wrapped up in him, “I’ve missed you.”

“Missed me?” he chuckled as you just nodded, pouting lightly as he couldn’t help but kiss you softly, “it’s only been a few hours since we’ve seen each other.”

“I know,” you ran a hand through his dark hair, “but it doesn’t mean I can’t miss you, does it?”

“I suppose you’re right,” he agreed as you took his hand and pulled him over to the counter. Bucky dramatically rolled his eyes as he trailed after you. Your hand looked so small in his hand; delicate skin contrasted against harsh callouses as you gave him a squeeze of reassurance. Whatever hesitation or tension was left in his body seeped, replaced by a feeling of saccharine bliss, “what are you up to?”

“You always think I’m up to something,” standing in front of the flowers, you paused, studying his features before reaching up to tenderly cradle his face in your hands. Bucky, resilient and strong, turned into a puddle of mush and practical whimpers as you traced a delicate fingertip across his features, “perhaps this time you’re right.”

“Tell me then,” he turned his face, pressing a gentle kiss to your palm as you used your free hand to reach behind you and push the vase to your side so he could see the ornate display. Blue eyes narrowed, highlighting the wary crease in his brow before they widened, softening all the way through. His hand slinked down to your waist, a light squeeze followed as he shuffled to the side and studied the flowers. Bright yellows and oranges, brilliant crimsons and pinks, and mellow pastels were suddenly under his intense scrutiny as he took in the sight of the blossoms, “w-what are these?”

“And here I was, thinking you were smart,” standing behind him, you wrapped your arms around his waist, delicately and slowly at first so you wouldn’t startle him. His frame stiffened for a mere moment before he relaxed, the weight of your head on his back a welcome burden he was happy to bear, “these are called flowers.”

“Very funny,” you could feel the laugh vibrate through his chest as a hand, one colder and more metallic than normal, but still all him, settled on your own. Pressing a line of soft kisses to his shoulders, you listened to the steady beating of his heart, “what’s the occasion?”

“There is none,” you insisted, “I just thought you would enjoy them. Look at the colors and blossoms, they all reminded me of you. So brilliant and warm and bright and lovely - just like you, Bucky.”

A few beats of silence met your ears as he inhaled and exhaled deeply, a million thoughts swirling around his mind. Before you could speak or say anything else, he turned around in your arms so he was facing you. He gestured between you and the flowers for a few moments, finding himself at a loss for words, “me?”

“Yes,” you promised him, “for you. Do you like them?”

“I love them,” he reassured you, an easy warmth settling over you, “back in the day I would have been doing this for you…”

‘You’ve gotten me flowers plenty of times,” you laughed, a sound that had easily become his favorite thing in almost no time, “besides, you deserve some nice things too.”

“I’ve been thinking…”

“That’s a new one,” you teased as he jokingly groaned, “ I jest! I’ve noticed you’ve been a little more quiet and stoic lately...I didn’t even know that was possible for you. What’s been on your mind, my love?”

“There’s this quote that came into mind...I heard it somewhere, but I can’t remember from what or who,” he mused as he rubbed thoughtfully at his chin, “it’s something along the lines of ‘when you realize you can tell someone your truth, when you can stand in front of them and show yourself and their response is “you’re safe with me” - that’s intimacy.’ I feel like...I can do that with you - like I can be myself and you’re not judging me, even though you know who I am.”

“Bucky - James - I know who you are,” it was surprising you didn’t melt into a puddle then and there, melting into nothingness at his feet. You leaned in, looking at his eyes for a few moments before capturing his lips in a soft kiss. You broke apart slowly, reluctantly before resting your forehead against his, “I know exactly you who are. And I love you for it - a good man, friend, partner, and so many other things. You are good, and it doesn’t matter what anyone else says or thinks. Fuck them - the people that know you know who you really are.”

“Even after…”

“Even after everything that’s happened,” you promised, “you are safe with me. I’m not going to suddenly turn my back on you and walk away. I love you, Bucky. You have me, now and forever, and I’ve got you, always. That’s not going to change. You know that, don’t you?”

“Yeah,” you could feel him smiling against your lips as he breathed you in and let you overwhelm his senses, “I know that.”

“Good,” you smiled as you reached for his hand, “let’s go to get dinner. I’m starving.”

“Don’t you need to close up?”

“Nah,” you winked at him, “I closed up as soon as we got off the phone earlier so we would have interruptions. C’mon Buck, I’m going to take you for a night on the town! What do you say?”

“Sounds perfect,” he agreed, “there’s just one more thing.”

“Hmm?”

“This,” he pulled you into his arms and kissed you deeply as your body melded into his, “I love you too.”

»»————-　♡　————-««

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#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x you #sebastian stan x you #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan #tfatws #bb imagine

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