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monsterywriting · 3 years

Text

Zhulgan (orc)

prologue | masterlist

wlw story

nsfw (minors dni)

word count: 10.3k

Despite the short detour being strictly business, you couldn’t help the excitement bubbling up within you at the prospect of getting to visit a market.

You had no money to your name to even enjoy it, and it wasn’t a true market like what you once imagined big city ones would be like - just a few rows of sparsely stocked stalls temporarily set up on the road near Avinca the caravan had passed a while back - but it was still a welcome reprieve from the long stretches of time spent staring out the back of a covered wagon and a chance to see other humans.

Your role was simple: accompany Zhulgan, Alkgan and Vulgud to the market, stand there and make the vendors feel slightly more comfortable to have orc raiders in their midst. The others would handle the rest.

Realistically, with the war affecting everyone, it was doubtful anyone would turn away their coin, but you still held an entire dialogue in your mind, arguing with an imaginary seller acting stubborn, the entire time you walked from the camp.

Indeed, when the four of you entered the market, there were some stares but if anyone had an objection to the orcs’ presence, they didn’t voice it. Still, your group was given a wide berth as you made your way through the aisles.

The others walked with purpose, leaving you to scurry behind them struggling to keep up. Eventually, they stopped at the small group of stalls selling meat. Alkgan motioned for you to follow him as he approached a stall with beef halves run by an old woman.

You hung back slightly, wanting to allow Alkgan to speak. All seemed to be going well, the woman apparently unbothered by an orc patronizing her stall, until Alkgan picked his choices and she gave him a price.

“15 gold for a half carcass?!” You said, louder and more indignantly than you intended, interrupting Alkgan from digging around his pocket for the gold.

“That’s the price,” the woman told you defensively, seemingly only just noticing you standing there for the first time at that moment and eyeing you up and down.

By that point, Zhulgan and Vulgud had wandered over to see what the commotion was. Rather than shrink away from all the eyes turning to you, however, you swallowed your nerves and stood straighter, “We’re traveling from the southern peninsula; we need supplies to make it to the western border.”

“I have to make a living, too, girl,” she huffed, crossing her arms.

You hesitated. You didn’t want to antagonize the woman further by pointing out that the price of meat hadn’t risen half as much a few years back when a drought killed half the herds, but you couldn’t afford to back down when you were already making a scene. This would require a more delicate approach.

“Please, grandmother-” you were taking a risky gambit, relying on the hope that the woman had any sort of maternal instinct for you to appeal to. For extra points, you switched to old Dumirian, crossing your fingers that your actual grandmother’s lessons paid off, “Our village was destroyed by soldiers. We’re a large caravan with many small children who need to eat… we can buy more, so you don’t have to carry too much home this evening, but we also need to buy other supplies for our journey.”

You put on your best pleading look, trying to appear pitiable without laying it on too thick. You hoped she wouldn’t think the orcs were there to be intimidating, but she seemed to ignore them as she stared long and hard at you.

“Fine,” she finally grunted, pointing at you, “For you, child. 40 gold for everything on the table.”

“Thank you,” you gasped, turning to Alkgan and the others to relay the deal you negotiated. It still seemed a steep price for you, growing up in the middle of cattle country, but the cost for each of the four came out to be significantly lower than what Alkgan had been about to pay for just one.

Zhulgan eventually nodded, giving the okay for Alkgan to pay the woman as she and Vulgud lifted the four half-carcasses from the table, one on each shoulder. It was almost two thousand pounds of meat, more than enough to last the caravan until the border. Still, you couldn’t help but wonder if you shouldn’t have butt in, your interactions to let the others handle everything clear - stressed to you before you even left the camp, in fact. You waved goodbye to the old woman, nervously trailing after the orcs, expecting to be reamed out for your impudence.

“Good job,” Zhulgan grunted once you caught up, shifting one of her two halves to glance down at you, her expression unreadable but the praise leaving you beaming with pride.

Getting your literal saviors a discount on some meat hardly seemed equivalent to all they’d done for you thus far, but it was the first time you felt you truly did something worthy of chipping off your debt.

The rest of the trip passed uneventfully. Vulgud haggled more successfully on his own than Alkgan had with a vendor for two steel bars and three iron ingots while you zoned out next to him. Zhulgan had surprisingly put you in charge of buying salts and spices to cure the meat with once you returned to camp. It was nerve-racking to say the least, going up to stalls alone with money that was not your own and the weight of three orc’s stares on your back.

You were drained by the time you returned to camp, doing your best to help Zhulgan and Vulgud keep the children from getting their little tusks into the meat before you could get it to the “kitchen”.

While the meat was being divided up into cuts, you wandered around camp, not having anything in particular to do in that moment as everyone waved you off for already doing your part in preparing dinner and not quite wanting to waste the afternoon with a nap.

As you passed Alkgan’s wagon, he popped his head out and called you over.

“Here,” he said, dropping a small pouch in your hands. At your confusion, he explained, “For the meat today. The difference in gold you got.”

“I can’t take this!” You exclaimed in disbelief, trying to get him to take the pouch back, “I was just doing what I promised!”

Alkgan shrugged, “If I remember correctly, you were told not to do anything. Besides, it’s Zhulgan’s decision, not mine. Also, you should be saving every coin you get for after you cross the orc lands.”

He had a point, but you still felt guilty taking the money. Finally, you gave up on trying to get Alkgan to take it back, tying the strings to your belt and folding your waistband over it. Resolving to return the money to Zhulgan directly later, you walked back to your wagon to wait for dinner to be ready.

“15 gold for this meat?!” Grace had huffed when Alkgan recounted the story later over dinner, displaying an even stronger vexation than what you had at the absurd price, “Gods have mercy this war has emboldened vultures!”

You snorted, hiding your smile with your plate but understanding her chagrin. The Cedars, despite their arboreal surname, were cattle people; Grace would know best the quality of meat you’d been sold, even if it had already been diced and cooked into a stew.

Across the fire, you noticed Zhulgan watching your group laughing together. Just as you were about to return your attention back to a question Rose asked, however, you realized something was amiss.

“Your bead is missing,” you called from across the fire, gesturing towards the right side of your head where the unfurling braid was mirrored on Zhulgan. It was the smallest one that she usually left hanging alone, the rest all tied back together like she usually did.

Zhulgan’s hand instantly flew up to the braid, confirming that the multi-colored bead was indeed gone. She looked around frantically, standing and twisting around to look at the ground behind her. There were murmurs from some of the orcs around the fire, but no one rose to help.

Only the humans leapt up, all of you knowing the pain of losing a piece of jewelry. Most walked around the fire and retraced Zhulgan’s steps back to her wagon. You, Mauve, Winnie and Rose got on your hands and knees and combed the surrounding grass in search of it.

“It must have fallen off in the market,” you told Zhulgan apologetically once you all reconvened by the fire, everyone’s searches turning up fruitless, “You’ll probably just have to get another one.”

Despite your proposition, Zhulgan didn’t look happy, snarling something in orcish and storming back to her wagon. Alkgan merely shook his head when you looked over at him for some explanation, everyone else slowly returning to their previous conversations.

There was obviously something unspoken going on, some significant piece of information that seemed to be common knowledge for the orcs but a mystery to you and the other humans.

“Can’t Zhulgan just wear a different one?” Winnie questioned once everyone was sat back down, the mood slowly picking back up around you.

“No. That bead was given to her,” Alkgan replied, failing to elaborate further.

“Well, can’t you give her a new one?” You pressed, trying to get some explanation for the scene that had just unfolded in front of everyone.

“Our father gave it to her,” Alkgan finally answered after a few moments.

You immediately understood. If the position of chief was inherited for orcs as it was in human leadership, that meant their father was more likely than not gone. You had nothing of sentimental value left from your family but if you had, you likely would have had a similar reaction to losing it, if not worse.

“What if we made a replica? I could go back to the market and ask if anyone makes wooden beads. I could even be the one to give it to her and explain,” you offered, interrupted by the laughter of some of the orcs that had been listening in.

Alkgan bared his teeth at the offenders before looking down at you, “That… isn’t a good idea.”

You sighed, looking down at your plate once again and continuing to eat in silence. While you understood that it wouldn’t be an adequate replacement, the likelihood of the bead being found in the market before the camp moved on was slim to none.

Resolving to look for it yourself - or get a replacement if you couldn’t - you turned in early. You got up before the sun, climbing over the others in your shared wagon and through the camp. On the way, you passed Zhulgan’s wagon. Without thinking, you peeked inside, intent on asking her if she wanted to go with you only to find the wagon was already empty.

By the time you reached the market, vendors were already setting up their stalls. You followed the same path as the previous day, your eyes kept squarely on the ground looking for any sign of the bead in the dirt.

You smiled sheepishly at the old woman from the meat stall when she greeted you, helping her set up when she asked. She spoke at length, mostly telling you about her daughters and grandchildren and complaining about how the vendors were all forced out of the cities because soldiers would take all their hard-earned money.

Once you finished, you took the opportunity to ask if any of the stalls sold painted beads. With the directions she gave you, you quickly wove your way through the stalls to the other side of the market. It was easy enough to find the man she told you of, his stall filled with colorful accessories, mostly leather hair ties and wooden brushes. Asking him if he had beads large enough to put in a braid, you looked through the bowl filled with various wooden beads he held out to you.

You were pressed for time, the sky already brightening as the sun began to rise. The caravan was no doubt beginning to wake up and would soon be finished packing up the camp - but you didn’t want to rush your decision, trying to find something that reminded you of the original bead’s design, even if you couldn’t remember its exact markings.

The closest one you could find to the olive and orange coloring was an oblong bead painted red with alternating blue and green palm fronds on it. You buy it, apologetic as the man is forced to break one of your gold coins to silver and bronze change. When he’s more than a little short, you also buy twelve brushes and leather hair ties, giving him back a silver coin to cover the cost.

By the time you returned to camp, the wagons were already loaded and the children were being herded into their respective rides. You went straight to the wagon you shared with the other humans, deciding to give the bead to Zhulgan in private whenever you eventually saw her next. In the meantime, you handed out your immensely popular gifts, everyone more than happy to finally brush their hair with something infinitely better than their fingers, no one really asking questions about where you got the money.

You felt bad lying about the money you had, but you weren’t planning on keeping it for yourself anyhow. While you agreed with Alkgan that you needed to begin saving money for your life after leaving Dumir, this particular payment didn’t feel rightfully yours. After returning it, you would have to figure out a way to pay back the rest.

Unfortunately, you didn’t see Zhulgan for the rest of the day, the caravan not stopping to set up camp until the next evening, but by then you were too busy watching after the children before dinner to go looking for her.

Zhulgan wanted to avoid the larger cities more likely to have Dumirian soldiers stationed in them, so the caravan shifted course to northwest. The market was the final stop before the caravan moved away from the coast, venturing further inland to avoid the ports.

You immediately missed the cooling ocean air - not just because it reminded you of home, but because the air became humid and even the nights were muggy and miserable.

Rather than squeeze into a wagon all together, everyone in the camp who had to share their sleeping space took to sleeping under the stars with just your pillows. It offered little relief from the heat, even without a blanket, but after a long day of being jostled around on a hard wood floor you would pass out cold every night.

You woke with a start on one such night when someone stepped on your back, your instinct to begin thrashing when you felt hands pressing down on your shoulder until you processed that it was Winnie shushing you.

“What the hell are you doing?” You groused, rubbing the sleep from your eyes and falling back onto your pillow.

“I have to pee,” Winnie answered swiftly.

You pause, letting your hand fall to your side and waiting for your eyes to adjust to the darkness to examine her closely. She shifted from one leg to another, rolling her shoulder and refusing to meet your eyes even in the dark.

“I’ll join you, then.”

“No!” She gasped, her voice rising slightly. Her agitated reaction in response to the offer had been entirely expected, and Winnie realized as well that you had seen right through her ruse, deflating with a sigh, “Fine. I’m meeting Vulgud.”

You blink dumbly, your mouth falling open in a silent ‘oh’. You thought back on the journey thus far, trying to come up with some hint of the two being that close, reading into every instance you saw the two interacting with a new perspective. You couldn’t recall any single moment that stood out, much less indicate that they were involved. You felt guilty, so preoccupied with leaving Dumir and how you would all survive that you hadn’t been paying attention to the others in the present. You wondered what else you had missed.

“Okay,” you finally said, voice high and ears burning as you looked anywhere but directly at Winnie, “Be back before morning and… don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

Winnie looked mortified, her face turning a tomato red as she hissed your name. You fell back as soon as she scurried off with an almost inaudible promise to be back well before morning. If it hadn’t been so damned hot - and your weren’t surrounded by other people sound asleep - you would have hidden under a blanket and screamed.

With the embarrassing exchange fresh on your mind, you couldn’t go back to sleep. By chance, you remembered the bead that had until that point lay forgotten in the coin purse. You never did give it to Zhulgan despite there being plenty of opportunities to do so since you bought it. Your hand wiggled its way into your bag, rolling the cool wood in your hand.

Eventually giving up on falling back asleep, you resolved to leave the purse with the bead inside on the edge of Zhulgan’s wagon for her to find in the morning, getting up and picking your way around the others much more carefully than Winnie had.

You proceeded to spend the next ten minutes pacing outside her wagon. Every time you stepped close you would find yourself spinning back around, unable to go through with the drop off, only to make it a few steps before turning around and trying to approach all over again, any resolve you had while still half-asleep sputtering out before you could actually enact your plan. Once you had time to second guess your actions, the entire thing seemed ridiculous. Alkgan’s words echoed in your mind - this was a bad idea.

Your concern was mostly over the bead, rather than the money. The orcs’ ways were still largely a mystery to you, even when you had been living alongside them, particularly what they thought of gifts. There was also the matter of Zhulgan’s reaction would be. You weren’t particularly close to Zhulgan, most of her communication with you through her brother. Now you questioned if it was a good idea to try and replace something so personal with a random bead so far from her home. If she wanted to replace it at all, she was likely waiting until the caravan returned to the orc lands. What if she didn’t even notice the bag and it fell off the wagon, never to be seen again? Then the loss would be all that gold and the bead.

Finally deciding enough was enough while facing away from the wagon, you took a deep breath, steeling yourself to turn around, put the bead on the edge of the wagon and be done with it.

When you did turn, however, you were confronted with a snarling Zhulgan, bleary-eyed and clearly displeased with being woken.

“Uh- I’m sorry I didn’t mean to wake you I was…” you trailed off, struggling to come up with some excuse as to why you were loitering around her wagon in the middle of the night, scrapping the bead idea entirely. While you stammered, Zhulgan’s head disappeared back into the wagon.

You stood there for a moment in disbelief, wondering if she simply decided you weren’t worth talking to and went back to sleep. Just as you were about to turn and leave, her voice called out from inside.

“What are you waiting for? Hurry up and come in.”

You obeyed without hesitation, clambering up the ledge and trying not to appear as curious as you felt being in Zhulgan’s personal space. Orc wagons were all huge; even the single orcs’ wagons had to be large enough to carry all their belongings as well as fit a fully grown orc to sleep comfortably in at night. The chief’s wagon was no exception, trunks stacked and pushed against both sides of the wagon with the center covered in thick pelts - obviously Zhulgan’s bed.

On the far end of the wagon, Zhulgan was sitting down rubbing her forefinger and thumb into her eyelids to clear the crust of sleep, her hair down in loose waves that reached her waist. It was a shock to see the orc chief so at ease - you were so used to seeing the rigid, ever-serious woman riding alongside the caravan, or silently eating dinner. You sometimes caught glimpses of a different Zhulgan with the other orcs, but in front of you and the other humans, she never broke character.

You took only a couple steps inside before sitting at the edge of the outermost pelt, too afraid to venture deeper. When Zhulgan made no attempt to speak first, you decided to break the silence.

“Have you found your bead?”

“You came here in the middle of the night to ask me that?” Zhulgan asked, her eyebrow raised.

You shifted under Zhulgan’s disbelieving stare, eventually resigning yourself to the fact that your true purpose in waking her was infinitely better than wasting Zhulgan’s time asking random questions to beat around the bush.

You took out the purse and the bead, holding both out on your palm, “I went back to the market- I looked for your bead first, of course, but I couldn’t find it… I had to use some of the gold you gave me to get this one but I can’t accept it- I’ll find a way to pay it back but the rest is all there.”

Zhulgan stared down at your hand, her entire body tensing and eyes alert, though she made no move to reach over and take either from you.

“I’m sorry, Alkgan told me the bead was a bad idea-” you began to retract your hand so you could remove the bead but Zhulgan moved faster, taking your wrist in her hand and taking the bead from you.

“It’s fine,” Zhulgan said tersely, her eyes never leaving yours, not even to look at the bead in her hand.

“W-what about the gold?” You stammered, leaning forward to try and place the purse onto Zhulgan’s open palm.

She closed her fist before you could, shaking her head, “it’s yours.”

You opened your mouth to argue, but one stern look from Zhulgan silenced you. You were resolute in your decision to give the gold back, but definitely weren’t brave enough to argue with an orc chief to her face about it, conceding to try again another day.

Once the silence began to stretch into uncomfortable, you cleared your throat, unable to tell if she even liked your other gift, still in her hand on her lap.

“Uhm… I can put it in your hair, if you’d like?” You offered awkwardly, surprised when Zhulgan actually handed you the bead after a long pause, seemingly unwilling to part with it.

You crawled over to her side, waiting patiently as Zhulgan grabbed a small wire hook and hair tie from the top of one of her trunks and handed everything to you. Rising to your knees, you set to work combing your fingers through her hair to detangle it.

As you ran your fingers through one last time with no resistance, Zhulgan’s right hand nestled itself on the back of your knee. You tried not to jump or show any reaction to the sudden contact, realizing too late how intimate your position was, leaning against Zhulgan. There you were, alone in Zhulgan’s wagon, less than a hair’s breadth away from each other when you only intended to drop the gold and bead off.

You were so nervous, you nearly dropped it while trying to run the hook through it, able to catch it against your body before it was lost in the shadows but immediately thrown into another crisis as Zhulgan’s hand rose slightly when you first fumbled, then tightened around your thigh when you secured it again. This time you did jump, knowing Zhulgan could feel your muscles tensing underneath her hand. For once, you were grateful for the humidity, at least having an excuse for your sweaty, flustered appearance.

Once a sizable lock of hair was looped through the hole, it was easy to pull the rest all the way through and move the bead up until it was almost to Zhulgan’s jaw, near where the other one had originally been. You were technically done, but you found yourself unwilling to be the first to move, your fingers still toying with the bead.

“I should go,” you finally whispered, grateful your voice didn’t sound as uncertain as you felt.

Zhulgan turned her head fully to you, her eyes boring right into your own, her lips parting and tongue peeking out for a moment to wet them, “If you’d like.”

You were caught entirely off guard, eyes focused on her mouth before flitting your attention up to her eyes with a delay that would’ve been noticeable even if Zhulgan hadn’t been watching our reaction carefully. You had no idea what to say in response and Zhulgan was being even more tight-lipped than usual while she waited for you to answer.

“Uhh—” you began intelligently, your eyes flying down to your leg as she gave it a reassuring squeeze, making your resolve to leave crumble even further. You were certain you weren’t imagining the sudden atmospheric shift in the wagon, that you weren’t alone in your anticipation for something, anything to happen.

Zhulgan continued to watch you, patiently waiting for you to get a grip. There was no amusement, no teasing - at least, on purpose, you were fairly sure - about how tongue-tied you were, just the constant weight of her eyes on your face and her hand on your thigh. You wished she would remove it, put it on the floor so you would no longer be distracted by it, wanting so badly for her to just move it up past the hem of your nightgown instead of making you say something first.

“I should braid it,” you finally exhaled, your mouth full of sand and hyperaware of every single point of contact between you, “so it will stay in place.” Zhulgan hummed, the meaning behind which you could only guess but she remained still, neither convincing you to stay or pointing out your conflicting statements.

Slowly, your hands returned to her scalp, taking the lock with the bead and sectioning off two more locks of similar enough size. Oh gods you were nervous, under no illusion your shaking hands would even compare to those of an orc, even their children better at making a braid than you by the time they hit adolescence. Still, though you were certain Zhulgan would fix it anyways come morning, you tried your best not to mess up too badly, tucking away the errant tufts while you worked.

Zhulgan’s thumb began to move, making your breath catch in your throat when the pad of her finger brushed circles over your skin, her palm once again settled in the crook of your knee. You stilled, only a few turns into the braid. Hesitantly, once it became clear Zhulgan had no plans to go further at that point, you began to weave the locks together again, your breathing continuing noticeably more labored.

Zhulgan muttered something in orcish under her breath as you finally tied off the end, your eyes fluttering up to meet hers. You had been picking up some orcish slowly but surely over the course of your journey, Alkgan taking the time to teach you when he had time, but you didn’t know much more than a few relevant words and phrases and were also too distracted to catch any more than one in particular: sweet girl.

A common pet name between parent and child within the caravan - as well as for couples, you thought, more importantly. You wet your lips, mirroring her own actions earlier and you catch Zhulgan looking down at them just as you had earlier.

“Please,” you breathed, your voice so low you were certain it had only been said in your own head, yet another unfortunate instance of you getting lost in your own thoughts and forgetting to actually speak. You weren’t even sure what exactly you were asking Zhulgan to do, just certain that you wanted this misery to end.

Zhulgan closed the distance between you, her plush lips enveloping your own in an electrifying kiss. You melted immediately, glad for your hand on her shoulder to keep yourself upright. Her palm travelled upward, leisurely in its pace and aimless in its direction, stopping for a moment midway of what you’d hoped would be its destination to grip the meat of your thigh.

You whined into Zhulgan’s mouth as her rough fingertips brushed against a sensitive spot on your inner thigh, the dull tip of her tusk digging into your cheek as you arched your back into her, your lips never wanting to leave hers.

You eventually have to part for air, both of you panting heavily as you both looked at each other with heavy-lidded eyes.

You wanted to stay longer, but your mind reluctantly reminded you of Winnie’s promise to return before morning and, just outside the wagon, the first rays of morning light were making the camp gray.

“I have to go. They’ll notice I’m gone,” you said, the faintest hint of a whine in your tone as you reluctantly let go of your vice grip on Zhulgan’s shoulder.

After a moment, Zhulgan’s hand slid down the length of your thigh, over the bend of your knee and to the floor by her side, her fingertips brushing against your bare calf and sending one last shiver up your spine. Eventually, you climbed to your feet like a newborn calf.

As soon as you were standing, Zhulgan shifted until she was facing away from you. You felt the urge to say something, but had no idea what - thank her? Apologize? You opened your mouth, then snapped it shut again, leaving the wagon and making the trek back to where the others still lay sleeping.

Laying back down on your thin blanket, now slightly damp with dew, You told yourself you were staying up until Winnie got back, but you were really just running over the events of the night over and over in your mind, analyzing every second of interaction and wondering what could have happened if you stayed.

The thought immediately made you feel guilty the moment it crossed your mind, knowing it was selfish to be seeking personal comfort in your temporary accommodations. You should be planning the next step, figuring out what to do once you crossed the orc lands instead of imagining a night spent in Zhulgan’s arms…

You remained awake well after Winnie returned, the first beams of orange sunlight cutting through the distant mist covering the mountains in the horizon. You couldn’t bring yourself to scold her for staying out later than she promised, you yourself having done the very same thing.

By the time the others began to wake, you were exhausted. You flinched when Mauve leaned over to wake you only to find you already staring up at the sky. The morning passed in a haze. It was your turn to ride in the kids’ wagon while the caravan finally passed Barba. You mostly just let them play with your hair while you were lost in thought, the younger kids more than happy to be allowed to practice their braiding on you.

For years you had assumed your indifference towards the boys of Ozryn could be attributed to the fact that you had known them all your life, unable to find the kids you grew up with as attractive. Even as your friends managed to do just that, your mind was always ready with some rationalization. Never before had you felt as you did with Zhulgan, the butterflies that fluttered in your stomach at the very memory alien to you.

Perhaps it was all a mistake, your mind conflating the debt you owed her with desire, gratitude mistaken for feelings. Nevermind that Alkgan had been the one to help you that day, and the sibling that you have been spending much more time with since then… No, you simply respected Zhulgan, felt indebted to her, wanted to kiss her again—

You cursed under your breath, apologizing aloud as you extracted yourself from the group of kids making braids of varying size and quality in your hair. They merely shrugged, easily transitioning to playing with each other’s hair instead.

You were tying your hair back when the wagon suddenly lurched to a halt, everyone inside tumbling as well. In the process, your hair tie snapped as you jerked your hands apart to find purchase before you could fall out the back of the wagon. You groaned, the combined reaction of your back knocking into the wooden frame and orc kids knocking into you. Another groan left you at the sight of the two pieces of leather still being clutched in your hands.

“Is everyone okay?” You asked, waiting until the chorus of grumbling affirmations died down before crawling out the driver’s end.

Derdig, a young orc only recently having earned the title of warrior, appeared just as confused as you were at the abrupt stop.

“What happened?”

“No idea,” he replied, trying to look over the tops of the wagons, confirming your suspicion. Whatever it was, it must have happened towards the front of the caravan.

“We’re setting camp here!” Augrak called from a few wagons ahead.

There were more than a few annoyed groans across the caravan, no one happy to be stopping so soon. You jumped from the wagon and walked ahead, careful to avoid the wagons veering off the road.

It was soon apparent what the issue was: a wagon leaning heavily to one side in the middle of the road, its back wheel missing. Zhulgan and Vulgud were in deep discussion next to it as you approached.

“Is everything okay?” You asked, doing your best not to look directly at Zhulgan lest you stumble on your words, only to find yourself unable to meet Vulgud’s eyes as you thought of Winnie the night before. You settled on examining the intact wheel still laying on the ground.

“One of the fasteners snapped when it hit a dip,” Vulgud sighed, “It will take me a few hours to make a temporary one and change it… and I might as well check the other wagons while we’re at it.”

“Mauve can help you,” you offered, though it felt somewhat awkward to be doing so in her absence, “It will go faster with two people.”

Vulgud nodded once in thanks, heading off to his own wagon for supplies. It was only after he was gone you realized you should have walked back with him, now standing alone with Zhulgan. To your great surprise, she still wore the exact same braid you made. You wondered if anyone had noticed it before almost immediately concluding it definitely had; all the orcs had braids of some form or another, and Zhulgan’s was so obviously made by an amateur.

You felt embarrassed at the thought of her telling others you had been the one to make it. Zhulgan definitely wasn’t the type to kiss and tell, but you fretting at the possibility that others would find out what the two of you had done afterwards.

“Your hair is still down,” Zhulgan observed.

You flinched, touching the ends of your hair at the reminder of your broken hair tie, having worn it every day since you bought it. Did your hair look that bad? It must have, considering the number of kids that had been braiding it - or, more accurately for some, twisting it together haphazardly until it made knots.

Between the current state of your hair and the braid you made on hers, Zhulgan probably thought you had never even learned to take care of it.

“Oh, yeah… It snapped.”

Zhulgan’s lips parted slightly, seemingly on the verge of saying something when Rose called out to you and Zhulgan, waving her hand for the two of you to come over.

At first, you were relieved to be called away before you could embarrass yourself further. You didn’t make it far, however, until you saw what she had been calling the two of you for.

A small party of soldiers - Dumirian, by their flags - was riding down the road towards the caravan from Barba, their armor glinting in the evening sun.

“Go get the others and wait in the wagon. Don’t be seen,” you told Rose, unable to explain the terror that seemed to fill you at the very sight of the soldiers.

“Take the children with you,” Zhulgan added, Rose nodding and hurrying off.

Perhaps your distrust was unfounded - these were technically your countrymen, after all - but your previous experience with soldiers obviously sowed the seed of doubt within you that was currently sprouting. You wanted to err on the side of caution, if only to keep things simple for the orcs.

“I am General Tarren Aubron,” the leading man introduced himself as they stopped in front of you and Zhulgan, sliding his leg over his horse’s back and stepping down, “Do you require assistance?”

Assuming he was addressing Zhulgan about the broken wagon, you remained silent, your gaze behind the general and on the swords his men carried on this supposedly friendly visit. When the silence stretched on, you looked at the general, your stomach sinking with the realization that he was looking directly at you. You glanced out the corner of your eye to meet Zhulgan’s, more nervous than you probably should have been. It was making you slow. Why would you need help? And why wasn’t Zhulgan speaking?

Recalling that she allowed Alkgan to speak for her when you first met to let you think she didn’t speak common, you took a deep breath and hoped what you were about to do was the thing she was waiting for.

You turned to look Zhulgan directly in the eye, “What do I say?”

She looked down at you for a moment. If she was surprised by you suddenly speaking orcish, she didn’t show it, only subtly nodding for you to speak.

“Chief Zhulgan is in charge of this caravan,” you told Aubron quietly, uncomfortable under the scrutiny of the soldiers and wondering where Alkgan was, “I am traveling with them.”

“What about the other girl we saw? Is she traveling with you as well?”

You inwardly groaned, hoping he didn’t ask to speak to Rose as well.

“Yes.”

You thought that would be the end of it, but the general was seemingly undeterred by your curt responses - or driven to investigate your apparent discomfort further and continue to address you alone.

“If you require an escort within the kingdom, I can spare some of my men with you girls wherever you need,” General Aubron offered, clearly thinking his offer magnanimous as he stressed the word ‘spare’, “Surely you would rather come with us?”

“No thank you,” you said without hesitation and you believed firmly.

The unease you felt from the beginning of your interaction with the soldiers was validated further the more the general persisted in trying to get you alone, taking a step forward every time you took a step back. You wanted nothing more than to snap at the man, already telling him in no uncertain terms that you would not leave the orc caravan with him, but you feared it would only cause more trouble should he take offense.

Unfortunately, General Aubron took your politeness to mean you could be swayed, his overbearing demeanor leaving a sour taste in your mouth.

“Well, we should ask your companion, at least, perhaps she would-”

“She said no,” Zhulgan finally intervened, stepping in front of you once she finally had enough of the circles the conversations was running around.

Aubron’s concerned facade slipped for a moment as his mouth twisted into a scowl as he finally faced Zhulgan for the first time. You shuddered to think what chance you had without the imposing figures of the orc raiders to back up your repeated refutations.

“We are here to protect the people of Dumir. She should come with us, not brutes,” he said, attempting to sidestep Zhulgan with an arm stretched out for you.

You felt your skin crawl, as though his advances were literal grime sticking to you. You wanted nothing more than to run away, slap his hand away from you or whatever you had to to keep him away.

You thought back to the market. If there were soldiers stationed as close as Barba, why would the vendors remain out in the country? When the meat vendor spoke at length about hating soldiers, you had assumed she had been referring to the enemy, but she had never elaborated, so perhaps… You wondered how much longer it would take Vulgud to get the wheel fixed. And where the hell was Alkgan?

Zhulgan growled, the heavy rumbling like thunder you were so used to hearing in jest among orcs now sounding like a true threat. Relief washed over you as the very sound made the general stop dead in his tracks; so much so, that before she could speak, you did, emboldened by Aubron’s sudden fear.

“I have said multiple times now that I won’t go with you,” your voice shook for a moment, but the more you went on, the more confident you grew, “I am crossing the orc lands and you cannot help me with that! Frankly, even if you could, your insistence has ruined any chance you had of me trusting you - and for that matter, why are you stationed here? My home and countless other villages have been razed in the south and yet we’ve not seen a single soldier until now! What have you been doing while people were dying or being taken prisoner? Is that what you call protecting?!”

You were breathing heavily by the time you finished, blood rushing in your ears as your short-lived satisfaction morphed into the grim realization that Aubron was now glaring daggers at you. Guilt consumed you for giving in to your anger - not for Aubron’s sake, but for creating more problems that Zhulgan would have to deal with.

“Think carefully, human,” Zhulgan said, causing your head to immediately snap up to look at her, not realizing that she wasn’t speaking to you until you saw her focus was directed towards Aubron, “We have done you and your king a favor by taking out a foreign platoon, but my warriors want to return home now; I cannot stop them from stomping out any pests that stand in their way.”

Aubron’s nostrils flared in anger, his features contorting even further into pure rage. For a few tense moments, nobody moved. Just as you began to worry his pride would win out and he would challenge the orcs, he turned, barking for his men to turn back to Barba.

As soon as the horses disappeared in a trail of dust, you deflated with relief, relieved of the tension that kept your back straight throughout the entire encounter. You immediately began to take off to check on the others only for Zhulgan to grab your arm.

“I’m sorry,” you apologized immediately, believing Zhulgan was upset with you for blowing up as you had, “I shouldn’t have said those things. It could have made him attack or go get reinforcements but I just- I hated how he was so arrogant and all the soldiers… and when he called you brutes—!”

“Don’t be sorry. I’m not angry with you,” Zhulgan interjected, “He was the one in the wrong. If you hadn’t told him, I would have.”

You nodded, twisting your head around when you heard Mauve and Winnie calling you. Zhulgan let you go just as you began to race over, resisting the urge to break down when everyone else jumped out of the wagon questioning you about what happened.

“Rose wouldn’t tell us anything,” Mauve huffed, worry etching across her features despite her attempt to sound neutral.

“Dumirian soldiers,” you said, too breathless and tired from the unpleasant run-in to adequately explain all the emotions you felt, “They- they were insisting I let them escort us.”

“Why didn’t you agree?” Grace cried out, pushing her way to the front of the group, “They could have taken us somewhere safe - still in Dumir! We wouldn’t have to cross the orc lands!”

“I-” you hesitated, the reasoning for your rejection feeling inadequate now that you were trying to explain it to those that weren’t there. The general had asked if you needed help? Insisted on being of assistance to you? You were doubting yourself, wondering if it was just the armor that made your mind twist innocent intention, “I don’t know how to explain it… I didn’t get a good feeling from the general-”

“Quiet, Grace!” Mauve hissed, rounding on the girl, “We all made this decision a long time ago - it’s safest to get out of Dumir until the war’s over.”

“Please,” Grace retorted, refusing to back down even facing down Mauve, “We haven’t even seen any more enemy soldiers! For all we know, the war’s already as good as over! Or at the very least, not here.”

“Stop it,” Rose said, stepping in between both girls, “If she thought it was safer to go with them, then we would have gone- right?”

All eyes turned back to you. You nodded, trying once again to explain, “they only saw me and Rose. I did turn the general’s offer down immediately - but then he kept insisting. When Zhulgan told him to respect my decision, he got angry. Called the orcs brutes and then tried to follow me when I tried to get away.”

There were some noises of indignation, Grace’s indignation swiftly leaving her and Winnie in particular appeared the most upset. Your hand found hers, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

“He probably didn’t know,” Grace said softly, though it seemed like a weak attempt to convince herself than you or the others.

“No… he was beyond reason. If there wasn’t an entire caravan of orcs behind us, I’m afraid he might not have taken no for an answer. And- at the market- one of the vendors at the market told me about the soldiers - they’re the reason they moved outside the city limits. They aren’t good people.”

“See?” Mauve said, “I knew there had to be a good reason.”

Any further bickering was interrupted by Derdig, informing the group that Vulgud had replaced the wheel and that the caravan would be moving on. You were relieved, wanting to put as much distance as possible between everyone and the soldiers.

When sundown came, the caravan pressed on, not stopping to camp until the next afternoon. To make up for lost time, Derdig had assured the whining children, but you knew the truth. Zhulgan also wanted to get far away from Barba.

Zhulgan had stopped relatively close to a stream, most of the caravan taking the opportunity to do laundry, everyone stripping down to what they were comfortable with and washing their clothes. You were helping make the food, so you weren’t able to go yourself until the sun was hanging low on the horizon. You sat a good ways upstream from the camp, wearing only your nightgown as you scrubbed your undergarments with soap and a vigor you were too embarrassed to display within anyone’s eyeshot, even if it was already dark.

Unfortunately, the necessary movement also made your hair fall into your eyes no matter how often you swept it back. Your only option was to work quickly, your tunic and pants already back at camp hanging.

Your hair had gotten substantially longer; your mother likely would have had you sitting down in the kitchen for a trimming by now. Your brother as well if she could catch him. Those were the moments you missed the most, small things about the present reminding you of the past. When the caravan had stopped near a beach, all the children had leapt at the chance to go swimming; your brother would have definitely been there to hoist them up and toss them into the water, just like he used to do in the large lake near Ozryn in the summers.

Your melancholy manifested itself as frustration, throwing your sock down on the rock you perched yourself on. You bunched your hair with your soapy hands and held it there for a minute, willing it to suddenly stay in place - an attempt to distract yourself from the tears pricking the corners of your eyes.

A twig snapped form across the stream, your name a quiet question. When you looked up, Zhulgan was standing there.

You smiled sheepishly, looking back down so you could discretely wipe your eyes with the material of your sleeve.

“Sorry, my hair was annoying me,” you forced out a laugh, incredibly conscious of how you appeared to the chief.

“I can braid it for you,” Zhulgan quietly said, continuing when you said nothing, “get it out of your way.”

You blinked slowly, not sure if you heard her proposal correctly. You chewed your bottom lip, uncertain if you were reading too much into the offer. Your interactions with the orc chief had been limited since your two groups began traveling together, and yet after a single night the two of you had… you had no idea whether you should take the advance as a proposition to continue what you had started or simply take it at face value.

You found yourself nodding despite not reaching any conclusion, scolding yourself for the giddiness you felt at the prospect of being so close to Zhulgan again as you gathered your clothes and wrung them out one final time before crossing the stream. Zhulgan sat on the ground, procuring multiple hair ties from her pocket. You realized she had come prepared with a small smile you quickly hid as you sat with your back to her.

“Get closer,” she said and you scooted back a few inches, not having the nerve to get as close as you wished even with the knowledge that Zhulgan had sought you out after your brief comment about your broken hair tie.

Instead of taking your hair, Zhulgan’s hands gripped your sides and easily maneuvered you in between her thighs, eliciting an undignified squeak from you. You quickly looked along the stream to confirm no one had wandered from camp. You began to fidget, too engrossed in the proximity to realize you were making it impossible for Zhulgan to grab your hair.

Finally, she placed a hand on your shoulder, her breath fanning over the shell of your ear as she told you to sit still. You froze immediately, not daring to so much as exhale as you waited for Zhulgan to begin.

“Breath,” she said, and though you were facing away, you could have sworn you could hear a smile in her voice.

You exhaled, feeling slightly lightheaded with the rush of air finally entering your lungs. At last, Zhulgan’s hands ran down the length of your hair, working out the tangles from the kids’ earlier attempts from the tips upward.

“Should’ve brought a brush,” she noted, your eyes sliding shut as her nails scraped along your scalp.

You could only hum in response, Zhulgan extracting her fingers once she found a knot and slowly pulling it apart by hand, surprisingly gentler than you expected the warrior to be.

“Thank you, for your help,” you eventually said, “I didn’t get the chance to thank you for protecting me at the time.”

Zhulgan made no reply and you had to resist the urge to lean back into her as her fingers deftly maneuvered the locks she partitioned into a single plait along the top of your head and down towards your neck. It felt good after so long of sleeping on a moving wagon or the ground, especially with the large bruise on your back from the earlier abrupt stop.

Though you couldn’t see the work in progress, you had faith Zhulgan would make it flawlessly, seeing how she did her own hair every morning. Perhaps it was because of her position, but she had by far the most intricate braiding amongst the orcs, which made you curious.

“Can I ask why you left the braid I did?”

Zhulgan tensed, you head snapping back slightly as she tugged your hair in the process, your sleepy, relaxed state doused with ice water.

“Sorry,” she apologized immediately. You waited a moment for her answer, but she simply focused on getting back to your braid. Before you could apologize for the question and give up on getting an answer, she spoke again, “For orcs, to braid someone’s hair is… an important gift. It is not something to be changed lightly.”

You twisted around, shocked, “I’m so sorry, I didn’t know! I wouldn’t have offered if I-”

“It’s alright,” Zhulgan said, and from her soft tone, you were inclined to believe her, “I accepted your gift, remember?”

And, after turning your head back around and feeling Zhulgan comb out the partial braid and start over, you realized she was right. Zhulgan would have had no trouble turning you down. However, you now had the question of what exactly was the implication of you braiding her hair - and her returning the favor. “If I had known you would leave it, I would have done a better job…”

Zhulgan laughed. It was not as loud as Alkgan but you still you felt a sense of accomplishment - even if you weren’t trying to be funny with your sincere statement. You smiled, deciding you liked the sound.

“You can redo it after I’m done,” she promised once she composed herself, reworking the braid with experienced fingers. You wished you didn’t have to sit still, wanting nothing more than to look back and decipher her expression - was she serious or still teasing? She had just shared with you how important the act was and yet still wanted you to do it again, now armed with the knowledge that it is important.

When Zhulgan finished tying off the braid, she leaned forward, seemingly checking to make sure it was all in place. However, instead of leaning back once she was finished examining her work, she pressed her lips to the base of your neck where it met your shoulder.

You gasped, feeling Zhulgan’s hand envelop your midriff and pulling you closer until you were surrounded by her. You leaned into her warmth easily, your head falling back onto her shoulder, exposing the column of your throat for Zhulgan to kiss. You turned your head to meet her kiss, whimpering as you felt Zhulgan fist the fabric of your nightgown over your stomach, lifting it above your knees.

“Want me to touch you?” Zhulgan rasped, her voice alone making your muscles clench in anticipation.

“Your braid…” you think you meant it as a question, but it was hard to even remember if you were talking about the braid Zhulgan had made or the braid you did when Zhulgan’s fingers touched your bare belly, not moving any lower.

“I can stop, then,” Zhulgan hummed, beginning to pull away until your hand flew from its perch on her thigh to catch her retreating hand and weaving your fingers with hers. Your significantly smaller digits strained almost uncomfortably to reach, but you still held tight.

“What if someone sees?” You whisper, unable to resist planting another kiss on the upturned edge of Zhulgan’s mouth despite your concern for the camp only a hundred meters away.

“It’s dark,” Zhulgan said, feeling her hand move down your soft belly before her fingers ran along the edge of your curls. The pads of her fingers following the crease of your thigh to bring your leg over her own, brushing up your slit before urging your other leg to follow suit.

Despite the humidity, you could still feel a breeze, making you shudder even before Zhulgan’s middle finger found your exposed bundle of nerves, your toes curling and thighs tensing as your hips pushed themselves into her touch.

“I hated how he spoke too you,” Zhulgan suddenly admitted, her hand dipping lower to brush against your slit and the other pressing on your sternum, “Ignored you when you said no… Wanted to kill him where he stood- shut him up forever.”

You appreciated the sentiment, but the last thing you wanted to think about with Zhulgan’s hand in between your thighs was General Aubron. Still, you allowed Zhulgan to work out her frustration, content to focus on the thick finger teasing your entrance, the blunt tips of her nails sending electricity up your body. Suddenly, it pushed inside you to the base, first cursing then writhing when Zhulgan’s thumb continued to rub rough circles around your clit.

Zhulgan’s hand was obviously larger than yours, but it did little to prepare you for the sheer difference in size, your walls flexing to try and accommodate. It took all you had just to moan her name, Zhulgan’s palm slapping over your mouth before you could cry out once she began to move, the rapid motion of her wrist making slick sounds.

“So tight,” Zhulgan panted into your skin, tusks scraping over your back as she moved to rest her chin on your opposite shoulder, struggling to get another finger inside to join its neighbor, “Sweet girl.”

You wanted to explode, drowning in Zhulgan’s embrace - overwhelmed with the heat and the chance of being caught at any moment, on display for all to see in your current position. Eyes rolling back as a second finger joined in pushing your towards the edge, tipping over it once you felt the stretch of both digits scissoring apart. In an attempt to stabilize yourself as your hips involuntarily spasmed around Zhulgan’s hand, you were vaguely aware of the orc chief babbling words of praise in your ear, a long whine escaping you instead of all the words you wanted to say racing in your mind.

You were too tired to protest being lowered to the ground after your climax, Zhulgan’s temporarily missing warmth almost unbearable for the moment it took her palms to leave your sides to slowly parting your legs once again, her thumbs opening you for the long stripe licked with her tongue. You gasped, your legs instinctively jolting with oversensitivity only for Zhulgan to hold you still, nuzzling your thighs and continuing to eat you out - licking you clean, you realized as you slowly felt the overwhelming feeling subside only to feel the pleasure build back up again.

“I think I messed up the braid already,” you panted once Zhulgan finally sat back up on her haunches, somehow managing to sit up and crawl with your noodle legs onto her lap, your fingers lacing into hers as you brought her hand up to kiss her knuckles.

“Hm. No, I make mine to last, unlike you,” Zhulgan said, and it took you a shocked moment to realize that she had made a joke at your expense. Once your shared laughter subsided, you sat together in a comfortable silence, head tucked comfortable underneath Zhulgan’s chin, feeling the strong heartbeat reverberate in your skull, neither one of you willing to part and return to your separate wagons just yet.

“I can feel you thinking,” Zhulgan’s voice was a rumble in her chest, a reassuring sound if she wasn’t trying to get you to talk.

“So what now?” You finally dared ask, voice low and uncertain, reluctant to bring reality back to shoot you down from your emotional high. It brought a sour taste in your mouth, worry creeping its tendrils into your thoughts.

You can do my braid again… or we can just go to straight to my wagon,” Zhulgan hummed.

“Hilarious,” you sneer, but your attitude only seems to amuse Zhulgan, her entire body shaking with her laughter, forcing you to cling to her until it faded once again, “I meant- in the future. How- what will we…?”

Zhulgan sighed, “I know what you meant.. We both have people we are responsible for. I cannot ask you to forget about your responsibilities just as you cannot ask me to forget mine-”

You nodded, burying your face in her neck.

“-But we have time still to get to the orc lands, and more to cross them, and if you need to earn more coin for wherever you go next… you can stay.”

You felt your eyes moisten ever so slightly. Longer, you know she means, but for the moment, you can pretend.

“I think… I want to go to your wagon,” you whispered, glancing up and meeting Zhulgan’s grin for just a moment before you found yourself being lifted with her as she stood, her strong arms supporting you even as you clung to her.

“Wait, my clothes!” You cried out, wriggling out of her grasp for a moment to grab your forgotten undergarments, feeling her stare as you bent down to gather the articles of clothing.

When you stood back up, Zhulgan was behind you, her hands running along your sides. You closed your eyes, allowing yourself to lean back into her. For the moment, you decided, you would simply enjoy the happiness blossoming in your chest, lose yourself in the moment.

For the first time in a long time, you didn’t feel quite so adrift, tethered by Zhulgan’s arms if only for the moment.

#exophilia #reader insert #monster girlfriend #orc #smut #not sfw

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aleatoryalarmalligator · 3 years

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I’m saddened beyond belief. Two weeks ago my mother caught covid 19 delta variant. She went to the hospital the first time and they said she wasn’t sick enough. She went a second time four days later where they kept her for two days where she sort of stabilized. The second she stabilized slightly they sent her home. I live a state over in Oregon and helplessly I wanted to conclude that they must have sent her home because she was improving.

So my mother’s condition of covid 19 worsened and she was sent back to the hospital, and this time it’s really really bad. Honestly they only let her out the first time because they are short staffed and over crowded with sick people. They had to take her to four different hospitals before they found a rural hospital. Fortunately this place is better and not as crammed as the others. Unfortunately she has a severe case of double pneumonia covid with the delta variant. Which means she has a roughly 60% chance of dying.

I called her earlier this morning with Allison. She whimpered in horrid pain with each attempt to speak. She was in agony. It was so fucking hard to hear. It tore me and Allison apart. The conversation lasted six minutes. What’s worse is that even if she recovers, due to the effects of covid 19 she will be likely on oxygen for the rest of her life, not to mention that it will likely damage other organs.

I could hear fear and massive regret in her voice for not getting vaccinated. Even when she was young and healthy she often was sick with pneumonia and bronchitis. She was not born with good lungs, and with being overweight and her intake of marijuana (which they have linked with getting sicker of covid than normal), she wasn’t in a good situation. She’s sixty years old. I knew she wasn’t in a great shape but I fully believed that I would have another decade with her at least. I wish I could see her but I can’t. She believed people who mistrusted the vaccines and doctors and even denied the existence of covid at times. To hear on the phone that bitter realization was disheartening.

My heart is broken. I go in and out of shock and functionality and completely falling apart. I wasn’t apparently close to my mother as she wasn’t a great support to me growing up. But it’s not one of those things where she was a bad mother or person either. Due to trauma as a young child she developed mental problems that were very complex and made her dreamy, distant and self absorbed like a teenager. But her and I were very connected. I look like her, I in some ways think the most like her in the family.

She and I both liked second hand shopping and writing and seventies folk rock. We liked to joke and shop and take road trips. I couldn’t live around her and at times she was selfish and infuriating as a mother, due more to immaturity than anything. But it wasn’t for any lack of love I had for her. She is a victim of circumstance. And she was/is a wonderful nurse for people in nursing homes and home health. She was the best friend to so many elderly people and disabled folk that nobody cares about. She’s made so many people’s lives better. I was always trying to get her to move to Oregon so we could be closer. I thought it might happen someday.

Anyway. It is what it is. It’s painful to think she may die in the hospital all alone in agony gasping for air with her worn out body. We could be visiting the ocean or making soup. She liked to draw comic books and was always so excited to show me what she was working on. I know it’s been said a million times but hold dearly to the people you care about. Never forget that those times may be the last time you get to see them or talk to them. Don’t take people for granted.

I have told a few people outside of family about what’s happening and there is nothing people can say. I’ve had a few people try to justify it to themselves by saying she deserved it for not getting her vaccine and then telling me what I already know and agree with, but taking the opportunity to inform me what a good liberal they are. My sister knows some republican people who blame her death on ‘young Democrats’ for whatever reason. It’s really gross. Some people are let down for me being a bummer by bringing up bad news that makes them uncomfortable. Like I’m ruining the party. Even well meaning people don’t know what to say. I don’t really blame them. There is nothing to say.

The only good news, is that we called the hospital and they were vague but did say she was showing signs of some improvement. She no longer has a fever and they believed they were through the worst of it. I thanked them profusely for being so thorough. They are literally doing everything they can to keep her alive. All these nurses caring for the sick and dying have such a hard job. This covid stuff has been such a strain on them psychologically and emotionally. There are no thank you’d adequate enough for the work they do for humanity. I have so much respect. I don’t know that I could have that kind of strength.

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royallyjoon · 4 years

Text

cursed stars

cred for the gif goes to whoever made it! 🤍

fairy au, royalty au

yandere! jung hoseok x f! reader (wind chimes: part II of II)

warnings: yandere themes, delusions of grandeur, violent behavior, and manipulation

once hoseok “successfully” claimed you as his queen, you are introduced to a tedious life as the princess of Wysteria: etiquette lessons in the morning with a testy crone of a duchess and tea at noon with His Highness himself. a new guest comes to the palace, introducing himself as an old friend of the prince’s. despite all your thoughts of returning home, your beloved knows there’s no force on Earth strong enough to rival his love for possessing you.

(a/n): hello everyone~~ all i can say is: wow!! thanks again for all the love, and for being patient with me and waiting for the next and final installment of this series haha. i have a lot more works in the drafts; please look forward to them as well** this one’s a bit of a long one; hope you enjoy! may we all bow in the final presence of the prince and princess~ :) love, ati

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“The Fae of Wysteria are a majestic race, coming in all shapes, sizes, and colors. However, a distinct aspect of our people stems from our heritage—we are pure-blooded, descending from the Heavenly Crowned King and Queen, Rostel and Elisia. The information we have about their descending to Earth is mostly written in memoirs from scribes who happened to be alive at the time. The records vary in terms of what they were doing that day and where they were in Wysteria but two significant details remain consistent: One, the heavens opened and through the clouds, one could see a vast sky of night alit with stars. Two, the Heavenly Royalty flew through the clouds to descend upon our humble abode and bless us with their presence.”

You placed your elbow on the mahogany desk before which you sat, planting your head in your hands. Usually, you did not mind history lessons but the way the Duchess droned on you felt your head nodding back and forth, almost dropping on the desk multiple times.

“Our Heavenly Crowned rulers blessed certain fairies with their powers and decreed that every eight centuries, a new fairy be born with iridescent wings, for that child was to be our new ruler. Those meant to serve in that child’s palace would be born the same year with silver wings and would reside by their side until the end of the eight hundred years. We have carried on with this tradition for--(Y/N)!”

There was a harsh smack on the table in front of you and you jumped up to witness the Duchess with her pale hand on the desk. She glared at you and you rolled your eyes in annoyance. “Yes, Duchess Roxia, I was listening. Iridescent wings for the next ruler, silver wings for the servants, they rule and live in the palace for a century.”

The crone sneered. “Eight centuries, (Y/N). Eight. Never will I understand why His Highness is wasting his time with the likes of you.” She slid her hand from the desk, nails itching to scratch the polished surface.

“In the past, I was hired to teach only the proudest of fae this generation has seen. When His Highness summoned me, I thought to myself, ‘This! This is what I’ve been waiting centuries for! To be welcomed back into the palace, to teach only the highest of fae kind! To bring honor to my family’s disgraced legacy!’ Only to find out he brought me here to educate his human plaything.”

You suffered this kind of verbal abuse on a daily basis. She would belittle and insult you to her heart’s content, then mercilessly quiz you on the material she’s taught during the hour and fifteen-minute lecture. Most of the time, you barely passed.

“Of course, I could be out in the world doing better things with my life, but who am I to refuse a request from His Highness?” She sighs, the noise heavy and more similar to a grunt than a dispel of air.

“That is why it is my personal goal to make you the best crown princess Wysteria has seen. Politics, history, etiquette--you will know it all in three months’ time for the coronation. His Highness will be so enamored with my skill, perhaps he’ll keep me in the palace to teach the next Crown Prince or Princess! Oh, the honor!” She gazed out the window, the nicest expression you’ve ever seen written all over her face.

And it was excitement at the thought of her selfish opportunity.

You glanced at the clock and shut your dusty textbooks. “Yes, well, thanks so much for the lesson, Duchess. But class is over and I have to meet with His Highness in about fifteen minutes. Have a good day.” You bowed to her and scrambled out the classroom with your head ducked down.

“Lift your head, (Y/N)! Walk like royalty!” She snapped as the grand doors of the library shut.

~~~~~~

You strolled through the corridor with Olivia in tow, taking your time to smell the flowers and feel the breeze. It was almost always sunny here now that Hoseok had you where he wanted you.

You had the finest jewels, the prettiest gowns, and the most handsome man in the kingdom laid down in front of you, yet all you wanted to do was get away from here.

He hadn’t harmed you since that awful night on the balcony, but he was in no way hesitant to do it again. You could sense it in every icy gaze he sent your way when he felt you were “misbehaving”.

The heels of your sandals clacked against the floors and you turned into the palace’s garden. Alit with soft, colored lanterns the smells from the flower petals hit you all at once. It took you back to the day you sat in that field and performed the summoning Etha so desperately wanted.

Etha...you had had no way to contact the mortal world since your capture. Hoseok had provided no comforting thought towards your friend. He simply assured you that she would be fine but she had no place here, as she was “but a mortal, and you are so much more.”

A likely story.

His wings were the first thing to catch your eye, gleaming and reflecting their multitude of colors when they met the sun. At the sound of your footsteps, he rose and approached you with a smile.

“Good morning, my dear. How were your classes?” He took your arm, leading you to the chair opposite his at the table. Olivia gently pulled your books from your arms and bowed, exiting without a word.

He pulled the chair out as you smoothed your dress out and sat. “They went as they always do...Duchess Roxia talked about the characteristics of a ruler and their servants and the length of their reign.”

Hoseok took his place and clapped his hands. Immediately, two fairies were setting tea, cups, and delicacies onto the table.

“Ah, our Regal Doctrine. She’s already managed to teach you that much, eh? Perhaps she is worth keeping around.”

You internally rolled your eyes. Had Hoseok known how Duchess Roxia was treating you, she would probably be halfway home by now.

As awful as the crone was, she was your only excuse for spending less time with the Prince. You would pick classes over emotional and psychological torture every day.

The table had grown eerily silent. You looked up to find Hoseok looking at you, seemingly waiting for something.

“Duchess Roxia informed me she taught you table etiquette during last Friday’s lesson.”

“Oh.” You shifted uncomfortably, trying to recall the exact steps.

“I’ll give you a hint,” Hoseok leaned forwards on the table, resting his head on his palm, “it begins with how you pour the tea.”

You nodded and slowly stood up, walking over to the teapot. The Duchess had said to grasp it so that when you pour, the top would not come out of place.

“A princess must always pour the tea for her prince and any visiting guests. It is crucial in demonstrating good table manners to all.”

You picked up the teapot gently, feeling Hoseok watch your every move. “The right hand to hold, the left to stop,” you murmured to yourself.

Once you felt your hands were in the correct position you held the pot an adequate height over the teacup—not too high, not too low—and began to pour. The tea did not splash around in the cup, rather it settled very gently and you waited until it rose to just a little before the rim. Then you placed the pot down, somewhat proud of yourself. “Sugar?”

Hoseok leaned back in his seat, a grin breaking out on his face. He clapped. “Wonderful! You did it perfectly, darling. I’ll take two lumps of sugar, please.”

You grabbed the lumps with a spoon and dropped them in his cup.

“You’re doing an excellent job so far, darling. You’ll be the perfect Princess of Wysteria in no time.” He continued smiling, despite the growing chill in the air.

“When I see you doing so well in your classes, it reinforces my hopes for you.” Your wrist froze, the lumps only partly dissolved. Hoseok pried the spoon from your fingers, taking your hand in his. “To think you thought you’d be anything but mine.”

The wind chimes sounding from the city hadn’t been so loud a moment before, but now they were deafening. The wind whipped your hair and dress around as you gazed down angrily, yet terrified at Hoseok. He met your gaze, doing nothing but pressing his soft lips against your hand.

And all at once, there was silence once more.

“You must forgive me, (Y/N). Every time I think back to that night, I get a little...angry.” His brown eyes were practically glowing once more, switching back and forth between dark and purple irises.

You pulled your hand from his grasp and promptly sat away from him. Hoseok continued spinning the spoon in the tea, dissolving the rest of the sugar.

“I have exciting news.” he continued. “A dear friend of mine is coming to visit in time for our coronation.”

You tilted your head curiously. “Friend?” You weren’t aware that Hoseok communed with people outside of the palace that often.

“Yes, an older friend from my childhood. He and I are extremely close and he wished to visit to see me become King before he commences travel once more.”

“Oh.” You sat, sampling the delicacies at the table. “...If you’re inviting a friend, would I be able to invite Etha for the corona-”

The wind picked up again. You heard the sound of metal slicing through the air and a knife from Hoseok’s side of the table landed inches, no, centimeters, away from your hand.

You stopped short. “Never mind,” you whispered.

Hoseok glared at the table, purple eyes fierce and gleaming. “Perhaps it is time for you to go back to your lessons, (Y/N).”

Olivia appeared at the doorway and you raced towards her, forgetting proper table manners to bow towards the prince once you exit.

For some reason, you felt the need to burst into tears.

~~~~~~

“He can bring whatever friends he wishes to, of course, yet I ask him to bring the only friend I’ve ever mentioned to him, who he knows of, and all of a sudden it’s a problem.” Soon after you left the garden, your fear and sadness dissipated into growing anger. You practically stomped down the hallway towards the room you occupied since your arrival. “He’s being hypocritical, again.”

“He may do whatever he wishes, Your Highness. He is the Prince.” Olivia mutters back to you. “If he feels as though he does not want any human presence tainting the purity of his coronation, he may ban their presence altogether.”

“Then why am I allowed there, Olivia?” You held your anger at bay, yet your lips twitched into a perceptible sneer. “Unless you have forgotten, I’m human. I don’t belong here as much as Etha-”

You doubled back in surprise as Olivia’s eyes widened and she threw herself at your feet. “Forgive me, Your Highness!” She cried out, head bowed to the floor.

“What are you doing?” You knelt beside her and tried to pull her up but her hands stuck to your ankles with a deadly grasp.

“Please forgive me!”

“For what?” You were exasperated at this point, but more worried. Olivia never did anything wrong; of all your handmaidens she was the strictest.

“I have wronged her Highness by insinuating an impurity with her birth! I beg of you, please!”

You kneeled in silence for a moment. With a heavy sigh, you stood. “You’re the last person to say something cruel on purpose, Olivia. You only spoke the truth. You’re forgiven; will you please stand up now?”

She pulled herself to her feet, her blue dress crumpled from the floors. To your shock, tears streamed down her face.

“What’s wrong?” You asked, gripping her by the arms.

She shook her head. “It’s nothing of importance, Your Highness. I thank you for your grace and mercy.” She curtsied, knees almost touching the floor.

You looked around, trying to see if there were any onlookers. When your eyes found nothing, you hurriedly walked towards your room, pulling Olivia along with you.

Hoseok frowned from his column perch. The maid was a good one--too good to let go.

But he couldn’t let her go unpunished for insulting his future Queen.

The prince smirked, flying away silently.

------------------------------------------

Olivia’s curious behavior quit after that day. It was the biggest display of emotion you had ever witnessed from her. Rattling, to say the least.

Two weeks went by uneventfully. All too soon, you were sitting in the library as Duchess Roxia went over the history of fae and human relations.

“Humans have attempted to contact the fae realm for centuries now, and only a few have succeeded. None to your extent, of course,” she sneered sarcastically.

“They blunder about in the forest searching for fields and lakes, trying to find a place with the right amount of ‘energy’,” the Duchess laughed and it sparked annoyance in you. “The pitiful things actually believe they have control over who they summon and where.”

Her mockery of the ritual that made you end up here, that currently has you trapped under the thumb of a purple and black-haired prince, made a new level of anger arise within you. You slammed your book on the desk and began putting away your “notes”.

“Any fairy who attempted to make contact first spelled destruction for Wys- (Y/N), where do you think you are going?”

“I’m leaving,” you snapped. “Perhaps I’ll return when I feel as though I’m being taught useful information and not racist sentiments from some bigot.”

You tucked the books into the corner of your arm and marched towards the door. Duchess Roxia’s heels clacked on the floor quickly behind you and before you could say another word, she wrapped her wrinkly fingers around your wrist, spinning you around.

The sound of your books crashing to the floor echoed in the library, but not as loudly as the crack of her hand against your cheek.

“You insufferable little bug,” she seethed. “I am not finished with my lesson, therefore you will be going nowhere. Pick up your books and take your seat, unless I must spell you to remain seated from now on.”

The flush of anger sat deep within your chest now and you threw her hands off of you. “Try me, bitch.” You resisted the urge to spit on her face and continued to head out of the library.

There was the sound of the Duchess sighing behind you but you paid no mind. Until, that is, you felt little sparks running through your hands and feet.

“I’m sure His Highness would not be pleased to hear of your insubordination...no worries. I will punish you in his place.” You felt yourself turn around, once again not of your own volition, to face the witch. She had both arms outstretched, wrinkly hands controlling your every movement.

The next moment, you felt like there was electricity convulsing through every inch of your being. It was painful, yes, but you were not allowed to scream or call out for help.

She had you at her whim.

About five minutes later, Duchess Roxia released her hold on you. Your body dropped to the floor, fingers still twitching unknowingly.

“Need I repeat myself, (Y/N)?” She cackled. “Books. Seat. Now.”

There was nothing you could do. You picked the textbooks up off the floor, stumbling a bit, and then slammed them back on the table. She scoffed at your helplessness, lecture continuing without a hiccup.

Your cheek burned. Your entire body ached.

When the lesson did end some thirty minutes later, you waited for her to leave the library first. Olivia passed by her as she exited before gasping at your condition.

“Your Highness!” She collected your books and tried to make you rise, but you were glued to the seat. Not by spelling, as if you’d let that witch’s magic get anywhere near you twice, but by your own indignation.

The handmaiden finally managed to make you rise and helped you to your room.

Upon entering, Raina, Eliza, and Kyla gasped, leaving their cleaning to crowd around you and ask what happened.

“Duchess Roxia slapped me,” you revealed as you placed enough foundation on your face to cover the mark. “Then she used her powers on me. I felt like I was being shocked in every part of my body.”

“How dare she lay her hands on the future queen!” Raina growled, her eyes glowing a bright hazel. “It’s high treason!”

Kyla nodded, cracking her knuckles. “We should go incapacitate her and drag her before the prince and princess to answer for her crimes.”

Those dear, four handmaidens. Your jailers who happened to be the people you have closest to friends.

You managed to earn their trust, and they managed to earn yours. They were only cruel to you when you decided to go against the prince’s wishes...which was in their best interest as they would be the ones he punished if you acted out.

“There’s no need,” you sighed, finishing up with the foundation. “In her mind, she was completely in the right. There’s no fae law that prohibits the use of magic on humans.”

Olivia sighed. “His Highness would be most displeased to find you like this,” She muttered.

“It’s none of his business,” you said. “I don’t need him to fight my battles for me. Especially not the ones he placed me in himself.”

“As you wish, Your Highness,” Eliza said, having a conversation through her eyes with Olivia that you couldn’t bear to translate at that moment.

As off-putting as your handmaidens were, they were the only ones you could freely talk to. At times, you found their presence and protectiveness comforting.

But it wasn’t as comforting as your home.

When you were finished, Olivia quickly led you back to the garden. The aftereffects of the shock were thankfully gone now; there would be nothing suspicious for the prince to question you about later on.

This time, Hoseok sat at the table with another man. He had a pale complexion for his skin tone, which was not too dark or too light. His hair was straight, hanging into his eyes. He, too, carried silver wings on his back, similar to those of your handmaiden’s, but slightly larger.

“(Y/N), my dear!” Hoseok gushed as you approached the table. Olivia took her place behind your chair as you curtsied to the prince and the guest.

“Greetings, Your Highness.” You muttered.

Hoseok could sense something off with his love, but he knew wouldn’t be able to confront it at that moment, not with his guest here.

“This is Lord Yoongi, the friend I spoke to you about.”

The man, Yoongi, stood and bowed to you as you curtsied. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Your Highness. Hoseok has told me much about you.”

You rose, eyebrows shooting up a little when you heard him address the prince by his first name. “All good things, I hope.” you smiled.

“Of course.” He flashed a closed-lip smile at you and Hoseok stood, pulling out your chair. You poured the tea for Hoseok and Yoongi just as you had the day before.

“Do you take sugar with your tea?” You asked, placing two lumps in Hoseok’s cup. As much as he tried to hide it, for whatever reason, he was beaming with pride.

“Three, please.” The answer surprised you again, but you hid with a smile.

Who exactly was this man?

You gently placed the cup before him and took your seat. Hoseok moved his chair so that he sat in between you and Yoongi, forming a triangle at the round table.

“I can’t quite explain how amazing it is to have two of my absolute favorite people meet,” Hoseok grinned. You couldn’t help but feel a little disgruntled: he was never this smiley around you.

“Yeah, yeah, we get it. You’re a bundle of emotions,” Yoongi snorted, sipping at his drink. “How are the preparations going for the coronation?”

Hoseok grabbed your hand in his and placed it on his lap. “I’ve been covering most of the duties, as (Y/N) here catches up with her studies. How was your class today, darling?”

You could feel Olivia’s glare on the back of your head and your body shook in reminder of your lessons. “It’s difficult, but what is education if not a challenge? I'm just really excited to be learning more about Wysteria’s history and culture.”

Yoongi nodded. “It isn’t easy at all, I commend you for your dedication. I know it may take a while to get used to, but I’m sure Wysteria can become a home for you just as much as it is for any other citizen.”

“That’s very kind of you to say...thank you.” You were taken aback by his kindness. All of your other encounters were racist or harmful, but Yoongi seemed to genuinely accept your presence here.

An attendant stepped closer and whispered something in Hoseok’s ear. His grip on your hand tightened but he let go to stand up. “I’m afraid there are some manners in the ballroom I must attend to. Please, feel free to chat amongst one another.”

Hoseok leaned down and you held your breath, praying he wouldn’t comment on the makeup.

His lips went to your ear all of a sudden, and he whispered: “Every day could be like today, you know.”

Then his lips were on your cheek, and he was walking out with all the servants.

You stared after him curiously. What could that have possibly meant?

After Hoseok left, you shifted in your chair uncomfortably. Yoongi crossed his legs and leaned back in his seat.

“So...how long ago did he take you?”

Your eyes shot up. “Did he tell yo-I mean...” your voice faltered, unsure if you should even be asking the question. Were you supposed to refute the claim?

“I know him like the back of my hand; he’s the only fairy powerful enough to bring a human into this realm. And as smiley as you are around him, I can tell you’re not here of your own accord. So when did you get taken?”

You paused. “A month ago,” you murmured.

Yoongi hummed, looking at the lanterns and vines behind you.

“He’s not a bad person,” he commented. “He’s always been a bit...off, but it didn’t show as much in his youth because he had so much energy and familial support.”

“How long have you known him?” You asked.

“Since childhood,” Yoongi said. “My parents used to attend his in the palace. When he, the new set of servant fairies, and I were born, my parents took to training them and I was a sort of babysitter. I must admit, I can understand what you’re going through. He was quite possessive of me in his youth shortly after he lost his parents. He clung to me all the time, really.”

A gummy smile broke out upon Yoongi’s face, and you felt your lips twitch in response. “Really? That’s...interesting.”

The rest of the afternoon was spent listening to Yoongi dispel stories about the young prince and their escapades in the palace.

“The old king and queen always told me that they hoped I’d be a friend of Hoseok’s for life.” He mused, eyes clouding a bit.

You paused at the sudden mention of his parents. “...Is it alright for me to ask what happened to them?”

Yoongi was quiet for a long while, and you were afraid you had overstepped your boundaries. Yet he began speaking a few moments later.

“It was an ambush,” he muttered.

Your head snapped up.

“On his birthday, Hoseok’s parents were holding a score of festivities to celebrate their seventieth reign together. I was still fairly young in fairy years, and Hoseok was even younger.” He continued.

“There was an insurrection in the palace...a group of commoners’ used the party as their opportunity to annihilate the royal family despite their divine right to hold the throne.” Yoongi held his teacup so firmly, the ceramic began to shake in his grasp. “Hoseok only survived because he and I immediately ran to hide with the servants. So many servants sacrificed themselves for us that night...

“They never discovered the person who let them into the palace. Commoners in Wysteria don’t have wings, you see. Only servants meant to be with the royals and the royals themselves possess the ability to fly.” Yoongi drifted off, lost in his thoughts. “I have my own suspicion about who it was, but I fear starting an investigation would cost Hoseok his current mental state.”

Never would you have guessed what the prince had gone through. “I could never imagine...thank you for telling me.” Nevertheless, you couldn’t help but wonder: did his response to the loss of his parents truly excuse his actions?

Yoongi sighed. “They were truly great parents to him but taken too soon.” He lifted himself from the chair and walked over to you. “Shall we go find him in the ballroom?”

You stood. “Sounds like a great plan.”

Olivia's eyes widened in glee at the sight of Yoongi. “Greetings, Lord Min. It’s wonderful to see you around the palace again.”

“As it is to see you, Olivia. I remember when you were still a toddler in the palace...time goes by all too soon.”

You smiled a little at the thought of Olivia as a toddler, learning etiquette.

The three of you walked out of the garden only to bump into none other than Duchess Roxia, lurking down the corridor.

Your breath hitched in your throat as her eyes passed right over you to land on Yoongi. “Why, if it isn’t the Lord of Tierny himself! A pleasure to make your acquaintance. I am Duchess Roxia, royal teacher of the future que-”

Yoongi pushed right by her and kept walking without a blink. “Come, (Y/N), we have to go find the prince.”

You stood behind in shock, watching as the Duchess whipped around in surprise. Olivia gave you a little shove forward and you walked briskly lest you be caught in the aftermath of her fury, again.

When you rounded the corner, there was nothing to stop you from cackling as loudly as possible.

~~~~~~

Hoseok had expected a lot of things from your arrival. The anger and the confusion were a given, but your desperation to leave was the one thing he could not wrap his head around.

He saw you as his queen from the moment you shook those wind chimes on the lakeside. How regal you looked, skin draped in moonlight and eyes alight with the stars. There was nothing left that the Earth could gift you with, thus he took it as his responsibility to give you all the niceties in life. Never again would he allow another creature to pollute your natural grace and kindness.

The night he caught you on the balcony, oh how the strength of your sobs tore at his very core. He didn’t want his love to be unhappy; he brought you here because the two of you belonged together. Couldn’t you tell?

Of course, he never questioned your love for him. Why else would you have wished for him to take you on an adventure so sweetly, so openly?

Sure, he may have lost his temper quite a few times but it was well within reason.

The first time you two had met, when he saw you donned in his royal garments in the library that day, he thought you couldn’t be any more beautiful.

So when he saw you walking in with Yoongi, eyes scrunched up and mouth split open by a wide grin, he knew he’d been proven wrong.

Your silk dress slid along the floor as you leaned back in laughter, arms wrapped around your soft frame. The light entered the room at just the perfect angle and Hoseok was able to witness the star greet your skin and light it up, like a parent with arms open to welcome their child home. He grinned softly.

“My lord! That was--that was amazing!” The older man could not understand for the life of him what you found so funny. Little did he know that dismissal of Duchess Roxia made your entire week.

“Hoseok-ah, come get your fiance.” The man groaned but chuckled, taken aback by the force of your laughter.

You calmed yourself as you neared the center of the ballroom and the prince approached you “Care to tell me what’s so funny?” He asked amusedly.

You shook your head, smiling at the floor. “Duchess Roxia attempted to greet Lord Yoongi but in our haste to see you, he paid her no mind...she was left ever so crestfallen in the hallway,” snorts attempted to take over your words once more but suppressed the giggling.

Hoseok looked at his oldest friend in shock. “Hyung!”

Yoongi widened his eyes and spread his arms innocently. “I had places to go!”

As the two bickered, you took in Hoseok’s work, admiring the way the ballroom gleamed. There was no doubt about it, the event would be beautiful but you still were not positive that you wanted to be a part of it.

“Every day could be like today.”

Is that what he’d meant? No cowering in fear from the anger of your supposed fiance, no disgusting teachers or challenging examinations? Just sunlight and laughter and friendship?

Don’t be ridiculous, you chastised yourself. You’re never going to stop longing for home, and Hoseok is never going to get over that. When Yoongi leaves, you’ll be transported from one tormentor to the next.

There would be no end. There is no method to his madness.

But...perhaps it wouldn’t be such a bad place to stay...

“(Y/N)?” Hoseok waved a hand in front of your face and you violently flinched away. The action caused both men to pause, gazing at you seriously.

“Are you alright?” Yoongi asked. His face showed no great emotion, but you could see the question that lay in his eyes.

You shook your head pointedly as if to say, No.

At least, not him.

“Yes, sorry. I was lost in my thoughts for a moment there.” You smiled assuredly at Hoseok, hands twisting the fabric of the silk dress you wore.

“I thank you both for your company today. I’m afraid I don’t feel well and will have to retire to my room for the rest of the afternoon. It’s been a pleasure, really.” You curtsied to both men.

Olivia, never far behind you, curtsied even lower to the prince and his lordship and followed you quietly out the ballroom.

The sky darkened a bit as you left and Yoongi sighed.

Clouds formed in the previously blue skies, a storm quickly changing the atmosphere of the room.

--------------------------------------

Later that evening, you lay in bed chatting with Raina and Kyla recounting the day’s events as Olivia sat by the window, listening. You didn’t have the energy to change out of the dress but all of that socializing exhausted you.

Eliza slipped into the room. “Your Highness, the prince is calling for you. He wishes for you to meet him on the balcony.”

You stopped mid-sentence. “What balcony?” You asked dumbly.

“The same balcony you found on your first night here,” Eliza replied calmly.

You stared at her for a few moments before flopping back onto your bed. “I’ll be out shortly,” you muttered, slipping on a simple pair of flats.

Olivia made herself ready to stand up but Eliza waved her down. “He wishes to see Her Highness alone,” she said as she rearranged the sheets you were just laying on.

Raina and Kyla pouted, disappointed that they wouldn’t hear the rest of the story. They acted as if they were even younger than you despite being considerably older. They understood, however, that the wishes of the prince came first in every situation.

Eliza chastised them for sitting around all day rather than completing their tasks. Olivia smiled, watching them all bicker from the windowsill.

You smiled at the chaotic scene before quietly closing the door, mentally preparing yourself to go back to the balcony.

~~~~~~

You saw the prince before he heard you. Hoseok had his head laid in his arms, peering out at the city of Wysteria. You appeared beside him and he turned, smiling at you.

You found it hard to return.

“I hope you’ve enjoyed today, (Y/N). And your time here in general.” Hoseok began, straightening.

You raised your eyebrows. “You make it sound as if you’re letting me go,”

His eyes flashed purple and he grinned. “Never. No, I said that because I have been reflecting upon my decisions as your prince, and I admit my actions may have been a bit...hasty.”

You snorted quietly and leaned on the railing. “That’s a bit of an understatement, Your Highness.”

He stayed quiet.

You walked to the end of the balcony and placed your arms along the wire rim, turning your head to his. “Yoongi told me about your parents...I’m sorry for your loss.”

He inhaled sharply, turning away from you for a moment. His dangling black coattails whipped around in the wind. “I didn’t want you to know about that,” he said.

You hummed. “Why not?”

“I want you to fear for nothing here,” he said, back still turned to you. “I simply wish to fulfill your dream, our dream of being together...I want you to be happy here. With me, and me alone.”

You stared at the back of his head, wishing you could read his mind. “You hurt me here,” you stated. “All I want to do is go home, but you keep me trapped-”

“That is for your own protection,” he cut you off. “You were behaving rashly by running around the palace. I know you’re a bit of a free spirit, love, but you shouldn’t act as though you want to leave me behind. I know you care for me as much as I care for you.”

You suppressed a groan of frustration. “Hoseok, I barely knew you when you brought me here. I still hardly know you.”

He took your hands, cupping them in his. “(Y/N), you’re the only one that knows the real me.”

Your expression twisted in confusion, but Hoseok was already changing the topic.

“Nevertheless, I invited you here because I want to apologize for any of my behavior that may have been...off-putting.” He started, leaning his back against the rail.

Ah, yes. Because nearly stabbing my hand with telekinetic powers was simply off-putting.

“Our love is not meant to be like any other, yet we have stood the test of time. I cannot wait to place a crown on your head myself, to watch you become a great ruler to my people.”

You tore your arms off the iron gate of the balcony and stood before him, locking eyes.

“You’re delusional,” you emphasized.

His eyes flashed purple but you were determined to stand your ground. “I have never seen nor spoken to you before that night on the riverbank.”

“But couldn’t you feel our connection?” He murmured. “I know you felt how powerful my presence was, how strong we were together. What else could it have been but a sign? Who else could have had the strength to summon me to your mortal realm and interact with me?”

“Somebody!” You cried. “Literally anybody!”

“But it was you, wasn’t it?” His voice got softer and softer, like a parent talking their toddler down from a tantrum. “You were the one to speak to me first. You were the one to make contact first, and you were the one to shake the chimes. No one forced you to participate in the ritual...you must have been searching for something to come out of it.”

“I only did it for Etha!” you protested.

Hoseok hummed and reached a hand up to pat your head. “I think you did it for yourself,” he concluded. “And I think the only option you have left is to accept your fate.”

His other arm crept around your back until he was hugging you. You tried to push him away, but your arms were trapped between the two of you.

“Our meeting, our love, our fates, they’re all written in the stars.” He rocked you gently side to side as he gazed up into the night sky. Where clouds once dominated, stars took their place and lit the balcony.

He let you go and stepped away, walking back inside the palace. Without looking back, he said, ““We’re going to have a beautiful life here, (Y/N). I suggest you get used to it very quickly. As I said before, I have no intention of letting you leave.”

You were left on the balcony with those cursed stars, regretting every decision you’d made in the past.��

With the news of that cruel reality, you trudged down the palace corridor back to your room, slipped under the sheets, and promptly fell asleep.

~~~~~~~~

Olivia prided herself on her good work for the future King and Queen of Wysteria. Ever since she was little, she dreamed of working for Lord Min and His Highness to help preserve their beautiful land and beautiful country.

She was consistently the highest ranking fairy in her lessons; perfect posture, perfect demeanor. Everything about her was groomed to perfection.

When His Highness assigned her and her friends to the princess, she’d been ecstatic. Sure, she was a bit of a challenge in the beginning, but (Y/N) has improved from her initial hysterical behavior.

Olivia is proud to work for such a determined, self-aware mistress. If only she would put all of that anger and energy to escape towards her lessons and the kingdom’s future.

She knew her insult to Her Highnesses’ birth would not go unnoticed. Sooner or later, the prince would drag her before him and demand answers.

Olivia closed the door to your room with one hand, the other arm occupied by a basket of clothes. She had changed you out of your day gown, as she was sure you’d complain about it in the morning. As her sandals quietly clacked down the corridor, she saw shadows approaching her.

Two royal guards stepped out of the darkness directly into her path. “Miss Olivia, His Highness requests your presence at his personal library immediately.”

Olivia’s breathing began to increase just slightly. She nodded and clung to the basket a little harder.

They led her to the dreaded library and she gulped, seeing only a sliver of moonlight from underneath the door. One of the guards checked her for weapons and the other took the basket, gently placing it on the floor. With a deep breath, she knocked twice and turned the handle.

“I have arrived at your request, Your Highness.” She curtsied, keeping her eyes glued to the carpet.

The library was dark but moving. In a moment, he appeared.

“My dear, you know I value your service. You are of the most competent in your generation...I remember how my mother simply adored you and your friends...”

The prince placed his hand around Olivia’s throat.

“...yet, you have insulted my queen. Your mistress.” He pressed a little tighter and Olivia gasped. “This cannot go unpunished. Do you have anything you wish to say for yourself?”

Olivia could barely get anything out. "Yes, Your Highness. I just want to thank you for your benevolence and generosity.”

He hummed. “Anything else?”

She felt that she shouldn’t, as her mistress felt sure she could handle it, but this was her life at stake. She broke. “Before Your Highness ends my pitiful life, I have something extremely important to tell you.”

The prince continued staring at her, pressing a little harder. “It’s..about..the princess...” Olivia tried to speak, but he had managed to squeeze all the oxygen out of her throat.

Hoseok’s eyes narrowed the slightest and he released her. Olivia coughed, dropping to her knees.

“Go on.”

Olivia rubbed her neck. “Duchess Roxia is well-known for her knowledge on fae history, and although she has been teaching my mistress everything she needs to know, she has been expressing a variety of anti-human sentiments. She ridicules my mistress nearly every lesson, and for the past couple of weeks, has even ventured so far as to...”

She faltered.

“May I remind you that if you obstruct the truth, I will not hesitate to hang you from the gallows.” The prince’s words were as sharp as the knife slowly rising from his desk.

“Duchess Roxia has been physically abusing the princess. She slapped her when she tried to leave a lesson and subdued her with magic. She almost electrocuted my mistress.”

The prince’s eyes danced purple in fury. Olivia knew he was going to erupt, but before he did, she wanted to make sure she was in the clear.

“I’m afraid that’s not all about the Duchess, Your Highness...”

-----------------------------------------

The next morning, you were shaken awake by your handmaidens. You tried to insist that you didn’t have classes and didn’t need to get up, but the grim look on their faces told you otherwise.

Kyla and Raina did their best to keep appearances sunny, giving you breakfast while Olivia and Eliza chose your outfit. They bathed you and dressed you in a silk, royal purple gown. It wasn’t until the dress was on you that you realized it was the exact same shade Hoseok’s eyes turned when he was infuriated.

And for whatever reason, Olivia kept wincing and touching her neck. You tried to ask her if she was okay, or if she wanted a massage, but she turned you down, joking that she was supposed to be the one to offer you such services.

Once you were dressed, your handmaidens led you to the balcony. To your surprise, there was a palanquin resting there, adorned with swirls of black, gold, and silver, with multiple royal guardsmen outside.

Not a chime could be heard from below the palace. The city of Wysteria was silent, and it made you shiver.

“What’s going on?” You asked Raina, hoping she would spill.

She shook her head and gestured towards the palanquin. “Please get in, Your Highness.”

You gasped. “That thing? It’s tiny!”

After that comment, the expression you saw on Eliza’s face couldn’t have had you rushing to the palanquin sooner. You picked up your skirts and stuffed yourself inside, trying not to feel cramped. The guardsmen pulled the door down and you could feel them lift the palanquin up.

You gasped, hand scrabbling against the wall. Your knuckle hit something sharp, and you pressed your fingers against a tiny knob. You slid the knob across the wall and it opened a window.

To your shock, you were being carried in midair. You could see Olivia and Eliza flying next to your side of the box, the swirls on their silver wings glistening in the sunlight.

If you peeked your head out a little further, you could see the borders of the city getting closer and closer.

So this is how people have to leave the palace, you noted.

You closed the window and stayed deathly still in the palanquin, afraid that the slightest motion would make you tip over.

About fifteen minutes later, the palanquin landed and the door opened. You hiked up your skirts, hoping the silk was not wrinkled.

“My first time in the city...is this a gift from the prince or something?” You asked Olivia. Before she could respond, Eliza intervened once more.

“This way, Your Highness. We are meant to go to the Wysterian Amphitheater.”

The handmaiden’s voice was even chillier than normal. You walked the streets of the city, head craning around the guards to get a view.

The city was gorgeous, filled with apartment buildings and shops. The blocks were lined with trees whose leaves had varying colors; some had red and orange, others had pink and purple, or silver.

Every tree had a wind chime tied to its branch. They would have been tinkling wonderfully had there been a sort of breeze.

Yet there was no breeze. In fact, there were hardly any citizens, either. The shops were closed, and doors were shut everywhere. The city was empty.

Everything remained deathly still.

You had so many questions, but you knew that you would get no answers, so you continued to keep quiet.

Your party had been walking for quite a while when you all approached a large building in the center of the city. It reminded you of the government buildings in the capitol back home; all marble columns and golden plaques with sprawling greenery surrounding the entrance. The main difference is that, behind those doors, you could hear people cheering and yelling. Thus, you were heading into the belly of the amphitheater.

The handmaidens paused before the doors. Eliza gracefully spread her wings and flew upwards, disappearing over the walls of the building.

“This is the first time the citizens of Wysteria shall see you, Your Highness.” Kyla whispered. “We know how amazing you are, but they do not yet.”

“Just hold your head high!” Raina added.

“Things are about to get ugly,” Olivia muttered.

Eliza returned, landing with both feet on the floor. She turned to you, brushing out your dress and fixing any stray hairs. When she felt satisfied with your appearance, she nodded at the guards.

Two of them stepped forward to open the doors of the amphitheater. You kept Kyla and Raina’s advice in mind, raising your head and squaring back your shoulders.

On the outside, you looked like someone important. Someone composed and dignified. Someone royal.

On the inside, however, you were resisting the urge to scream from nervousness.

As you passed through the doorway, you made yourself acquainted with the citizens of Wysteria. They were, quite literally, every shape, size, and color, just as the Duchess had told you only a few weeks ago.

They were beautiful.

You found yourself forgetting your instructions, looking around in wonder at the fae community. The cries you heard exploding from the arena silenced as your visage became clearer and clearer to the citizens.

While the outside has resembled a sort of official government building, the inside was most similar to a sports arena back on Earth. There were seats, which the citizens filled, and then there was a separate section.

In the silence, you searched for Hoseok. Your eyes took their time, drinking in every sense they could interpret, before landing on the prince in a sort of skybox, set in the middle of the spectator’s part of the theater.

The prince stood, and you could see his outfit was meant to match yours in that he wore an all black suit with a purple tie. His coattails still dragged on behind him and his highlights were shimmering in the light of day.

Hoseok unfurled his wings and you had to squint when they caught the light, blasting every color of the rainbow out at the audience.

Even with your eyes partly closed, they were probably the most beautiful thing you’d ever seen.

He didn’t land before you, no. He extended a hand to you as he floated above ground, waiting for you to take it.

“I’m afraid of heights,” you whispered.

Hoseok grinned and placed his hand in yours. In one fell spin, he had you wrapped in his arms, bridal style, as you let out a shriek.

The cheers erupted from the citizens, even louder than before, as Hoseok flew you to the Royals’ seating station. The guards disbanded and went to stand at their respective part of the stadium while Olivia, Eliza, Kyla, and Raina followed you and the prince.

You clung to Hoseok as the two of you flew. “So this is your idea of a first impression? Me cowering in front of the citizens?”

Hoseok smiled, but for some reason, the moment felt sinister. The earlier unease you sensed in front of the amphitheater returned full force.

It wasn’t until the prince set you down in the skybox that you realized why.

In the center of the stadium, Duchess Roxia stood on a raised wooden podium. Her usually stoic and professional appearance was in tatters, as she had nothing but a ripped nightgown on to face the crowd. Her dark hair curled down her shoulders.

You gasped, looking to Hoseok and Yoongi for an explanation. “What’s happening...?”

Yoongi, already a man of few words, said nothing, as he gazed forward with no emotion.

Hoseok held you like he did in the library that first day, arms around your waist with his chin tucked into your neck. “She’s receiving due punishment, my love. Long overdue, but just.”

You were sure he meant for his words to be warm but his voice made you freeze out of fear, and you hadn’t even done anything wrong.

The prince held you like that for a few moments more before gently leading you to your seat. As you were placed between him and Yoongi, the situation dawned upon you.

When the prince sat down, a screen appeared, broadcasting the skybox to the citizens. It only showed Hoseok’s face, thank everything, as he motioned for them to quiet down. Then, he began to speak.

“Centuries ago, my parents ruled Wysteria with generosity, clarity, and grace in a manner which I am currently preparing to do so for you, my beloved subjects.” Hoseok spoke, the epitome of cool and composed.

“Nevertheless, as we all know, a rebellion that had been forming in the city chose to execute their diabolical plan to rid the land of its royalty.”

“This insurrection was carried out with the assistance of an insider from the palace...thus it was at the tender age of seventy years that I lost my parents, and so many children here in the city lost theirs as well.”

“While we as a nation have moved on from this horrid tragedy, I, as your prince, kept this traitorous act in mind for years. And along my journey...I fell in love.”

The fae cheered once more, and your face was broadcasted alongside Hoseok’s. You smiled a little, hoping it didn’t look too much like a cringe.

You sat as he spun your abduction into a fantastic tale of love, danger, and triumph. He claimed you were in a precarious situation back on Earth; surrounded by people who posed physical and emotional threats to your safety.

You had just managed to steal a wind chime, as well as directions for communication with other beings, and pledged yourself to Hoseok, who appeared underneath the moonlight on the riverbank, grabbed your hand, and saved you.

As you watched him spout utter lies, you found it harder and harder to smile, the false expression of joy slipping off your face.

This must have been what he told himself in order to justify his actions.

What a pretty tale he’d woven.

And the fae were eating it out of his hand.

“I introduce to you, citizens of Wysteria, your future queen, (Y/N) (L/N)!”

The crowds clapped for you, shouting and chanting your name. Your face was being broadcasted all over the stadium, but you couldn’t even pretend to smile.

“I fear my princess has not has it easy,” Hoseok continued and the audience hushed themselves, placing all of their attention on him once more.

“Ever since her arrival, I hired our dear Duchess Roxia to instruct the princess on our history. (Y/N), completely unfamiliar with our ways, jumped into her lessons wholeheartedly and retained a lot of knowledge.”

“But while under my roof, in my kingdom, in my palace, Duchess Roxia had the gall to mistreat the princess.” The smile was completely gone from the prince’s face now. Warm, brown orbs turned purple and hardened, like gems.

“She abused her by constantly expressing anti-human sentiments and using illegal spells on her!”

The crowd roared in disapproval. Your stomach dropped and you whipped around to face Olivia. The handmaiden shrunk in shame.

“I had no choice,” she mouthed.

“I brought my beloved into my home with the intentions of keeping her safe,” Hoseok growled, glaring at the pathetic figure of Duchess Roxia on the podium, “and someone thought she could harm my princess and get away with it.”

“Someone thought she would be above the law for the second time.”

Silence.

“It was she, the very traitor I scoured the kingdom for, disrupting the peace once again. Threatening the safety and well-being of those that I care for, again.”

You looked at Yoongi, recalling his suspicions from the day before. The dismissal that had brought you so much joy...was because he suspected the Duchess of allowing the insurrection into the palace.

“When His Highness summoned me, I thought to myself, ‘This! This is what I’ve been waiting centuries for! To be welcomed back into the palace-’”

“Thus, it is today, for my parents’ honor, that I bring this criminal before you all to witness the capitol punishment she deserves.” He sat down once more, practically breathing in the violent energy the crowd was emitting.

“Execution.” Yoongi muttered.

You sat back in your seat, gazing at Hoseok’s side profile in shock. You had no idea whether she was guilty or not, but who were you to advocate for your abuser?

Stubborn. Clearly.

“Hoseok,” you murmured, barely audible beneath the crowd’s chanting, “I understand that she killed your parents, but murder? ...Why not imprisonment?”

The prince turned to you, purple irises glowing brightly in the shade of the skybox. “And let the maggot live thinking she can get away with her crimes? For not only touching what’s mine, but punishing you? Not in this century, my love. Nor the next.”

He leaned closer to whisper in your ear, “As a matter of fact, we will be having a very serious discussion about how you kept this from me once we return to the palace.”

You gulped, glaring at Olivia. She looked down in shame.

“The stars have spoken for us all, (Y/N).” He said. “You will not be leaving. They have decreed your fate.”

A manic grin spread across his face. He rose, unfurling his wings to fly out to the center of the arena.

“The citizens have decided!” He yelled above their clamor. “And so have I.”

Hoseok didn’t even spare Duchess Roxia a glance as he lifted his little finger and flicked it, causing the duchess’ head to roll off her shoulders.

You screamed, volume matching that of the faes, and buried your head into Yoongi’s shoulder as the citizens grew louder and louder. He and Olivia gently pat your back while your eyes were pried together, replaying the horrid image.

The Wysterian prince, eyes mad in victory, drunk off of the power that rolled in waves from the crowd’s cheers, bowed before his citizens.

“My queen and I, after our coronation, will rule this country anew. Any threat against us shall meet the same fate as the duchess. I hope you will all walk forwards with us into an era of great prosperity, wealth, and glory!”

The duchess’ body collapsed to the floor of the wooden podium.

Shouts rang in your ears. You lifted your head from Yoongi’s shoulder. He, Eliza, and Olivia were nodding along with Hoseok’s energetic cries of rage.

The audience stamped their feet in carnal joy.

Kyla and Raina had stars in their eyes, glued to Hoseok’s visage.

And you knew all at once, without a doubt, that he had won.

And why wouldn’t he? After all, your fate was written in the stars.

#yandere jung hoseok #yandere bts #yandere bts x reader #possessive jung hoseok #min yoongi #yandere #yandere jhope #yandere jhope x reader #dark bts #fairy au #bts x reader #bts #bts fanfic #fae #fantasy #royalty #royalty au #dark jhope

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rachelbethhines · 4 years

Text

Tangled Salt Marathon - Queen for a Day Part 1

This is my personal favorite episode in the whole show and one of the strongest episodes in the series. However, even it is not without flaws, so let’s dig in.

Summary: Rapunzel takes over the kingdom while her parents go away for their anniversary. A blizzard strikes Corona, keeping everyone inside their houses, and an accident in the mountains traps Frederic and Arianna. Xavier reveals that the blizzard was a curse sent by Zhan Tiri, an evil monster who attempted to destroy Corona but was defeated and imprisoned in another realm by his enemy, alchemist Lord Demanitus, who used a device to redirect the blizzard. Meanwhile, the black rocks keep spreading in Old Corona and begin to approach the castle. Varian starts testing the mystical rocks, but his father forbids him, refusing to tell him anything. One of Varian's experiments result in the rocks trapping Quirin.

The Show Fails to Acknowledge How Quirin is in the Wrong

Look, I like Quirin, and he is of course miles better than either Frederic or Edmund. But that’s a low bar to cover and he’s not perfect. There’s a reason why his relationship with Varian is strained to begin with and that reason is completely his fault.

This scene where he rolls his eyes and is embarrassed by his son, who is just expressing how excited he is to spend time with him, highlights the problem adequately. Quirin is neglectful. He obviously doesn’t spend enough time with his child, nor gives enough positive feedback.

Now we’re given contexts clues as to why that is; as a leader he’s a busy man, he’s not good at communication, Varian’s made enough mistakes that he no longer trusts his son with important information, ect. This is all understandable and makes for a believable and engaging conflict. However, because the show never has Quirin verably own up to these mistakes it makes his and Varian’s resolution in season 3 feel hollow.

So This Plot Point No Longer Makes Sense

As I pointed out in previous episodes, having Pascal’s Story and The Wrath of Ruthless Ruth come before Queen of a Day contradicts this core set up of Rapunzel being trained to take over for her parents and then left on her own for a few days.

This a Wasted Character Arc

Overall, Eugene’s arc is about learning responsibility and that’s fine. But more specifically, it was supposed to be about him learning to be a king. He’s meant to be a mirror to Rapunzel in addition to her support. He should be learning to be a leader like she is and they both should be growing as a team; taking on the aspects of ruling that the other can’t or shouldn’t be doing.

That’s clearly what the writing team were shooting for in the first two seasons. Only to then promptly dump it all in season three. Giving us an asspull ‘consolation’ arc instead. More on that when we get to it.

The Exchange Between Quirin and Frederic Isn’t Expounded Upon

So this scene is suppose to hint that both Quirin and Frederic know more than they are letting on. The problem is we never get any follow up explaining just how much either of them knows nor whose idea it was to move the citizenry of Old Corona. Details like that are important to the plot and shouldn’t have been glossed over.

Even if you wanted to keep up the mystery for the moment, then you should have had a scene in a later episode explaining things like this.

This is a Lie

Granted this is intended to be a lie for plot purposes, but then it is never followed up upon after it serves its use. Meaning Rapunzel never acknowledges her fault here.

This is Awful Advice

I can’t stress enough just how bad this ‘lesson’ actually is. I had to screen cap the whole thing, it’s that awful.

Rapunzel’s only arc in the show is her learning to be more assertive. Now that’s fine if we’re talking about her living the life that she wants to live. That’s not the same thing as dismissing others whose lives you hold in your hands though.

A leader has to listen. That’s part of the job. You can't just do whatever you want just cause. Just because you believe you know what's best doesn’t mean you actually do.

Time and time again we see both Frederic and Rapunzel screw up and hurt others by following this stupid mantra. Yet despite the consequences, not once does either character acknowledge that they’re wrong. Worst, the only people to point out their selfishness are made into villains.

Hear Him? He Said Months

So there’s some matter of debate about just how long Varian was left on his own after this episode. All evidence points to several months, however in interviews the series’s creator claimed it was only for a few weeks. Ignoring the fact that Chris has lied to the fandom before, I have to call bullshit on that.

The season takes place over the course of six months, Queen for a Day is meant to the be the midseason finale. Given this line, and other context clues, it stands to reason that Queen for a Day and The Secret of the Sundrop should be three months apart.

However, the very fact that we have to rely on context clues and ask for clarification by the show’s writers after the fact, means that the crew has failed to showcase the passage of time correctly despite it being an important plot point.

The Song Contradicts The Show’s ‘Lesson’

I actually really like “I Got This”. It’s my third or fourth favorite song in the show and my personal favorite song to focus on Rapunzel. However, it presents to us a conflict that’s wholly different to the one the episode is trying to tell.

This episode wants to teach Rapunzel about confidence and being assertive, yet here it’s her overconfidence that causes her to screw up. She’s not actually listening to the people and jumping ahead with ideas because she personally thinks they’re good not because she has anything to back them up, and they wind up blowing up in her face.

That’s kind of the opposite of ‘listen to your heart’ and presents to the audience that Rapunzel needs to learn a lesson in humility instead. But the show never follows through on this.

See Writers? You Do Know How to ‘Show Don’t Tell’

Look, this scene with Quirin is the best written scene in the whole show and deserves to be pointed out. We learn so much here just from the action. Not a single line of dialogue is spoken. We needed more of this in the series and less of the one line info dumps.

The Audience Deserves to Know Too

We never find out what Quirin is hiding from Varian. Yes, we learn of the Dark Kingdom, the Brotherhood, and of the Moonstone, but none of those things are cause for keeping Varian in the dark.

Quirin says he’s ‘not ready’, but there’s nothing that we find out in the show itself that would be of any great emotional impact to Varian. It’s poor set up and lack of resolve, once again.

Oh, Hi Xavier. Where Did You Come From?

Yet again the series fails to actually introduce Xavier properly. He showed up in Under Raps, but with no real establishment. I legit forgot who he was and was confused by his sudden appearance here, when I first watched the show.

We’re never given an explanation of how Xavier knows what he knows nor what his stake or part in the story is. He’s just there. He’s the very definition of an exposition fairy if there ever was one.

My What a Let Down This Build Up Is

Technically we do see Xavier’s story revealed in a flashback, but it’s nothing that actually explains what is going on. By the end of the series we’ll know little more about the big bad of the show than what we do here in this bit of foreshadowing.

Once again, poor set up and resolve.

Conclusion

So that’s the end of part one. The episodes are broken up on Disney Plus and there’s far too much to cover, so I’ll be breaking them up as well. Tomorrow we’ll come back to second half.

#tangled #anti-tangled #tangled the series #rapunzel's tangled adventure #rapunzel #varian #quirin #king frederic #tts #rta #eugene

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jar-full-of-pixel-hearts · 4 years

Note

i was listening to Jessie’s girl the song today and i thought it would make a great Ben Schwartz fanfic. Like you’re dating a friend of his or but you’re also Bens best friend and you’re actually in love with him and he’s in love with you, and one day your boyfriend breaks up with you or cheats something like that, and Bens there to comfort you and then you kiss and it’s super cute.

A feeling of envy

Ben Schwartz x Reader

Soundtrack : Jessie’s girl - Rick Springsteen

A/N: Thank you for your request ! I really love that song too and I play it in a loop all the time when I was writing it. Having friends of my ex whose had tried to hit on my after our break up I had some difficulties imagine Ben doing this kind of things while comforting reader, so I choose another way I hope you will accept. I hope you will like it and that you will let me know if it’s the case !

* English is not my first language, I tried really hard to correct myself but, I hope you will excuse me if some mistakes are still there.

—-

Working with you was truly the best. Even if Ben always had joy at working with his Ducktales family. Things seem to become even better since you have stepped into the studio, giving life to April, one of Daisy's nieces.

You were brilliant, funny, pretty and most of all, you made him feel great when he was around you. Even if he knew he shouldn’t feel that way, he simply couldn’t fight the feeling, trying his best to repress it as much as he could. Of course he had been in love in the past, but nothing could have warned him of how hard and fast he will fall for you. Neither of how painful it could be to see you kiss his best friend.

Ben was starting to be bored, the movie and the red carpet where he had been invited had been great. But, the after party of the premiere was starting to feel like it will never end and he had promised his friend Matthew to stay since he wanted to introduce him to his new girlfriend.

( Where are you ?) Ben text, standing at one of this little table, his blue suit starting to become way too warm in the overcrowded room.

“ Excuse me, you’re Ben Schwartz right ? “ A féminin voice asked behind him while he was looking at the reply of his friend.

Lifting his eyes, his heart abruptly missing a beat.

The woman was a true natural beauty. Dress with a simple but elegant dress flatting his silhouette, his hair, light makeup and small jewelry matching with his neutral heels. She was gently smiling at him, waiting for an answer to her question.

Subtly adjusted his suit, as his usually quick brain was struggling to find a funny thing to say. All his improv skills, surprisingly seem wasted in a brain fog he doesn’t so often experiment.

“ Yes, it’s me“ He smiled, cursing himself for such a cliché reply.

But, the smile on the face of the woman quickly succeeds to vanquish every concern storming into his brain.

“ Nice to meet you, I'm Y/N Y/L/N. We will work soon together, I will play April, Daisy niece in Ducktales” You announced, extending your hand to a handshake.

" Y/N Y/L/N ?! I heard so many good things about you, really nice to meet you too” He replied, excitement replacing the fog as he shook your hand with enthusiasm.

Your name had indeed pop in few of his last voice acting project conversations. Always caring the same message: you were , even if your career was still young, an amazing voice actress and a truly delightful person to work with. But, sadly, until now, he never had the chance to put a face on your name or meet you in a recording studio.

“ Benny ! I’m sorry I was stuck with my agent so I sent Y/N to find you.“ Matthew suddenly interrupted, passing an arm around your waist, pressing his lips on the side of your head in a gentle kiss.

And, just like that, a strange feeling had invaded Ben, a feeling he hadn’t left him since, letting a bad taste in his mouth and often giving him some sleepless night : Envy.

For almost six months now, he has successfully worked with you, enjoying your company. Discovering part of you he quickly learns to admire and adore. His heart, that he was struggling to protect, aching a little bit more at each time he saw you with Matthew. But, as a good friend, he stays a little behind, hoping that seeing you happy will be enough and that one day, the envy will simply go away.

“ Ben, are you done with your lines for today ?” He heard you ask him as he was caught in the memory of your meet.

“ Almost, I have to record some screams and I think I will be done for today” He replied, looking at his record schedule. “ You ?”

“ I still have the big monologue to record, but I ask for a break. I’m starving, I will buy something to eat. Do you think you will still be there when I will come back?“ You asked, already taking your bag, a strange expression clouding your face for a moment.

It wasn't the first time that he noticed that expression on you that day. You, who was usually smiling, replying to his joke in a heartbeat, caring for him and always killing it in your role. Was now mute and struggling to deliver your lines. He even catches you lost in your mind, your gaze focused on him as he was recording, like if you burning to ask a question,or, trying to like him, repress something.

“ Not sure, I have stuff to do after that. Why, did you need me for something ? “ He replied, concerned about your sudden change of mood and if it somehow has something to do with him.

Seeing to realize his concern, you put a smile on your face adjusting your bag on your shoulder.

“ Oh just to know...It’s great working with you”

“I love working with you too...Y/N are you okay ? “ He couldn’t resist asking.

It takes you a minute before replying, the same expression you had when he caught you watching him work falling on your face, but, you quickly brush it off like a annoying bug.

“ Yes, i’m fine thank you, I guess i’m just...tired or something. See you tomorrow” You reply waving at him as you pass the door.

The weather, that night, was cloudy and uncomfortably warm. Even with his best effort, Ben simply couldn’t fall asleep. It was at least what he was trying to convict himself. The truth was that every time he was closing his eyes, you were appearing, beautiful in your simplicity, telling him all he always wanted to hear before suddenly starting to cry. A vision torturing him each time, making him feel even more guilty since he wasn’t sure of the reason for your tears.

A glass of water in his hand, he was heading to his office, resolute, if he can’t sleep, to at least work. When he heard the knock at the door.

At first unsure of wanting to open the door at a so late hour, he still quickly opened it when he recognized your silhouette through the little window.

Standing in the alley,you were looking at him, your shifty gaze informing him that whatever the situation troubling you today had somehow gotten worse.

“ I’m so sorry to bother you at this hour...I...I really need to talk to you.” You said after he closed the door behind you.

“ That’s okay, I couldn’t sleep anyway. Do you want to sit, have something to drink ? eat ? “ He offers you, walking you to the living room.

“ Matthew cheated on me…” You confess, letting it explode like a bomb.

Silence fell for almost a minute, letting Ben shock. It wasn’t the style of his best friend, but, it was true that for the past month Matthew had some really strange action. For god sake, what he was thinking, how he could’ve done this to you.

“ Y/N are you sure…” He starts trying to find a balance between anger and what he knew of his best friend.

“ He told me last night...I had my doubts and when I asked him about it, he just confessed it, swearing to me that it was just a random girl and that it was a mistake…”

“ Shit, I’m so sorry Y/N” Ben replied, now perfectly understanding your strange behavior of the day and trying to find an adequate gesture to comforting you.

“ Not me...that’s the strange thing Ben...I'm not sad, not angry...I loved Matthew of course...but thinking of it since yesterday and all day made me realize why...I’m not mad because : I cheated on him first…Not physically, but I was thinking at someone else all this time. Often without realizing it...”

Trying to follow you and the train of your mind, Ben slowly passed an hand into his hair, unsure if he should continue to listen you talk about another man as his heart, that he tried so hard to protect, seemed to crack like a broken mirror.

“ Y/N I’m not sure how I could help you here…” He sadly answers you.

“ I realize that I was thinking of you all this time…you Ben” You confess. “ All day I tried to find clue that you was maybe...feel the same. Of course it’s maybe stupid of me..Matthew is your best friend and we don’t know each other for that long but...sometimes I was feeling like if…I probably will broke my own heart and jeopardizing our job telling you all this, but I think I need to... ”

You never finish your monologue as his lips suddenly crash on yours. Closing your eyes, passing your arms around his neck, you reply to his kiss, tears of joy and relief escaping your eyes.

“ I feel the same” He confesses, keeping you in his arms, when you break apart. “ I feel the same for so long “

Returning on his lips for more kisses, his favorite smile and your eyes close while he chased the tears of your cheeks. You stayed up all night, both of your minds, envy, guilt and hearts finally in peace.

—

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#ben schwartz #benjamin schwartz #ben schwartz x reader #Ben x reader #request

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dawdy11 · 3 years

Text

Armando Dawdy

Brenner's on the Bayou's Wine Director

On November 16, 1962, in Houston, Texas, Armando Dawdy was born. As of June 6, 2002, Armando has been married to Francesca Avondale Dawdy. Liam and Connor, their two children, were born to them. In 1986, Armando graduated from the University of Houston.

Armando has been Brenner's on the Bayou's Wine Director since August 2009. At the Ritz-Carlton, he was a Bar and Grill Manager and a Wine Director at Tony's Restaurant.

Where did you get the idea for your profession?

It started while I was working at the Ritz-Carlton in Houston and, the sommelier was transferring to the Ritz-Carlton in New York. There was an opening, and I had enough energy for wine. In this manner, they sent me on a fourteen-day compacted lesson in those days. After that, I needed to be involved.

What does a typical day look like for you, and how would you make it worthwhile?

When I'm at work, I usually request the wines I'll need for forthcoming events, parties, or weddings and then have someone supply the line. I walk by and make specific that all of the wine is adequately stocking.

My next step is to hold informal meetings with the employees to understand what is going on with the wine that day. It is beneficial since servers are much more knowledgeable about wine and how to sell it.

How would you revitalize your mind?

Whenever possible, I try to pair a wine with one of our daily specials at the café, and I try to perform little wine tastings with my employees to learn more about the wine. It doesn't matter whether it's dry or sweet, red or white they know how it tastes.

What's one pattern that gets you going?

As a result, the current trend that excites me is that we prefer to sell champagne. Whether it's a birthday or a company closing, it's always fun to introduce someone to champagne.

As a business visionary, what is one of your tendencies that makes you more valuable?

I need 15 to 20 minutes a day to read about wines, wine trends, and what's next in the wine business.

What advice would you give to your younger self?

To be patient and recognize that you cannot learn everything all at once. It's not a variable-based math problem. It's not difficult, but it takes a long time to complete.

Show us something genuine that almost no one agrees with you on.

Everything goes well with champagne. It is possible to enjoy rosé champagne while eating steak. Champagne Blanc de Blanc can be paired with any seafood. Champagne, in my opinion, works well with everything. A few groups feel it is a threat. Red wine goes well with meat, and white wine goes well with fish.

What is the one thing you do as a business person that you recommend everyone else do?

I'm always trying new wines. It's rare, but if I've been drinking a bottle of wine for two or three days, I'd want to taste a smidgen to make sure it's still worth serving my customer, to make sure it's not over the hill. One of my clients could never receive a poor glass of wine or a terrible container.

In what way has technology helped you grow your business?

Wine by the glass menu allows customers to sample a broad selection of wines without purchase a jug.

What was your worst letdown as a business visionary, and how did you overcome it?

We had had a chiller at another restaurant that didn't maintain the wines at the proper temperature. They were constantly hot, and it's just a matter of time until we figure out why the wines weren't lasting as long. They weren't coming out tasting the way we wanted them to. As a result, we finally made a few adjustments and tweaks to the cooling framework, allowing us to maintain the wines at a proper temperature and serve them the way we would have liked.

Are you prepared to share a business idea with our readers?

What about always being open to trying different types of wines? How about Greece or Argentina as examples of expanding economic sectors where high-quality wines are produced? What I'm saying is that you should provide them. It would be beneficial if you tried everything.

In the last year, what was the best $100 you spent? Is there a reason?

My wine has been kept for a long time in a Coravin container, and it's been a great investment.

What is one piece of programming or web administration that you utilize to help you be more beneficial?

We don't do any programming in the wine industry; instead, we use simple online tools like Google Drive to share data among my team. I'm guessing Gmail can do the same. I utilize it to communicate with consumers and plan future events.

What is the one book you think everyone in our community should read, and why?

Countless volumes have been written about every aspect of the wine industry. The Wine Folly by Madeline Puckette is one that I would recommend. You can find anything you need to know or have questions about on its pages.

What is your most important statement?

Winston Churchill remarked in a statement, "I drink a jug of champagne every day, except when I'm unwell. Those are the days when I'm blessed".

When and where did you buy your first home?

This event took place in the Heights neighborhood of Houston, Texas. It happened in 2001. In what kind of atmosphere were you living before you bought your first home? Where are you going/who are you going with/what are you going to do? I was living in a condo and needed to add some value to the property. I was living alone at the time.

What prompted you to purchase your first home?

I was tired of paying rent. I needed to add some worth to my life and have something I could call my own.

How would you go about putting the money together to get it?

In all honesty, I worked a later job and also sold a variety of wines.

Would you say you bought it for speculation or as a place to start a family?

Yes, it was both. Soon after, we divorced and stopped being a family.

Please share your memories of your time there.

That's not true. I sold it for a fair profit, which allowed me to place a vast deposit on our new property.

Do you have any advice for first-time property buyers?

Remember to be patient and find the right house. There's a good chance we looked at 30 or 40 places before found the one I wanted.

Click here

#armando dawdy

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missjosie27 · 4 years

Text

Year 2 Part 9- The First Vault

Hello, everyone.

There is good news! I seem to have my mojo back, that spark every writer needs to adequately make their craft. So expect updates to come a lot more often.

This chapter is the vault chapter though it will not mark the end of Year 2. For the record, I intend to write all seven years but that is going to take a hell of a long time given JC's very slow updating schedule haha.

Anyway enjoy this chapter! As always comment what you think. I enjoy it immensely.

Year 2 Part 9. The First Vault

Ben’s hopes for an uneventful end of the semester turned out to be oddly prophetic. The number of ice attacks dropped so significantly that even the first years seemed to be more relaxed going into the latter part of May and into June. Tension ran much lower and even the most brooding Slytherin or skeptical Ravenclaw had to admit things were looking up. Though Dumbledore was still noticeably absent, Professor McGonagall filled in more than adequately as deputy headmistress.

All the while, David felt…conflicted. He was certainly happy that the ice attacks had stopped, and the danger seemingly gone. But that didn’t lead him any closer to finding out what happened to his brother nor the identity of ‘R’ and what they wanted in general. Would he trade for more clues about the cursed vault just to have more information on Jacob? No, he wasn’t that selfish, unlike those such as Merula who only thought about themselves. But it didn’t ease that same longing he’d felt since he was nine years old, nor satisfy his curiosity.

Ben, of course, was ecstatic and Rowan tried to see the bright side as usual, telling him that no curse meant more time to study for their upcoming exams (whoop de doo) and reduce their chances of getting in trouble with the teachers. Bill, however, was the only one who remained unconvinced that the danger had truly passed.

“A magical cursed vault doesn’t just stop cursing people,” he explained one day while at the training grounds. “From what I’ve researched, cursed objects are often unpredictable and not at all stable due to the sheer amount of dark magic they contain.”

“Are these vaults even dark, though?” Rowan pointed out, as he fired a stinging hex towards his target. “It could just be a natural defense mechanism of someone trying to interfere with it.”

“I don’t personally trust anything that has the capacity to seriously maim or kill someone,” David opined.

Bill send a burst of flame forth, incinerating a dummy to ashes.

“If it turns out that this was nothing more than a false alarm, I won’t complain,” he said. “But until we can actually confirm that, it’s best to remain on our toes.”

And remain on their toes they did, thanks to Bill. Three times a week, they were down by the ground training and when they weren’t Rowan was often in the library searching for more books on the ancient Aramaic language they found the previous year, or anything on the vault’s origin. Penny received several new potions books from her mother and was pouring through them for more ideas or possible brews they could use in the event of an attack.

For his part, David tried to juggle the rest of his schoolwork with the vaults. His mother in particular was expecting higher marks this year and constantly reminded him of that in her letters.

Do as I say, not as I do he lamented. It was typical of his mum to offer instruction but little sympathy in doing so. If only Dad actually had a backbone. Whatever, it’s not like they’re actually here seeing what I get up to

All of these things were to bound to come to a head sooner or later and when it did, it was in the most unexpected fashion imaginable.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The day of pandemonium coincidentally was on the last Quidditch match of the season, where Gryffindor was due to play Ravenclaw for the title. The air was abuzz with excitement, and though the Slytherins were more than a bit glum at being out the running, it was expected to be an even, prime time matchup. It was not an atmosphere concerned with the cursed vaults.

That included David and Bill, who in their eager anticipation of the match, rose early and sped down to breakfast both for the purpose of eating and wishing Charlie luck. Since his first match against Slytherin, his ascent into superstardom had been rapid. The game against Hufflepuff was as equally lopsided, with Gryffindor winning 400-100 in a span of about half an hour. But it wasn’t simply the score that had the Lions on the cusp of their first cup since the late seventies, it was a generational talent and that person was Charlie Weasley. His natural ability on a broom was so spectacular, many people openly talked of him playing for England someday. True to his nature, the second eldest Weasley merely shrugged such talk off, choosing instead to focus on the Quidditch Cup but the chatter was undeniable.

“Good luck, little bro,” Bill teased him moments before heading down into the locker room. “You know Fred and George are going to want a full play by play after you win.”

“Knock it off, Bill,” Charlie said, rolling his eyes but there was a small smile on his face all the same. “Just have the butterbeer ready when we come back.”

Giving each other fist bumps, Skye Parkin called over as she tossed the quaffle back and forth between herself and fellow chaser Ruth Barrett.

“Oi, Weasley! Orion’s called us to the pitch! Let’s go!”

“She has a way with words,” Bill observed mildly.

Charlie raised his hands as he got up from the table.

“Just who she is.”

“Knock em, dead, mate. We all know you’ll be brilliant,” David encouraged, giving one last slap on the back.

The red head thanked him and quickly exited the Great Hall to the applause of the Gryffindor table, while the Ravenclaws paid them no mind.

“Gotta say, definitely different than playing Slytherin from a pregame standpoint,” David observed.

“Ravenclaws don’t need to use shady or underhanded tactics to try and intimidate opponents,” Bill pointed out. “Their talent and tactics are usually enough. Besides, their team left for the locker room already.”

“Good point.”

Checking out his watch, David began to wonder where Rowan and Ben were. Both had assured him they’d be down just after himself. Even if his best friend wasn’t the earliest riser when it came to Quidditch matches, he was usually sufficient enough to dress and shower quickly.

“Where are those guys?” he muttered to himself. The Great Hall was beginning to empty out. Even the Professors were absent from the table. Something wasn’t right.

Bill tried to reassure him in his usual cool, collected manner.

“I’m sure they’ll be along s-”

He never was able to finish the sentence as screaming and panic began to erupt from outside of the hall. Whoever was left eating breakfast immediately ran to the scene of the commotion, including the two Gryffindors. What they saw was pure pandemonium: adolescents and teenagers from all houses were running back and forth and wasn’t hard to see why. Numerous spores of ice were blooming all around them, growing at a rapid pace threatening to engulf all in their path.

David and Bill, both glanced at each other, simultaneously gulping. Suddenly, wave of blonde slammed into them.

“Ack! Penny?!”

“Dave! Bill! Oh, I’m so glad I found you,” she said through a tight hug around David’s midsection (he blushed ever so slightly). “Is this the cursed vault?”

“Has to be,” the young Gryffindor replied. “What else could be making such gigantic icebergs?”

Just then, a large mass could be seen moving towards them through the crowd and given his height advantage it wasn’t difficult to spot who it was.

“Dave? Bill? All yehs thank goodness yer alrigh’.��

“Hagrid? What on earth is going on?”

The exceedingly large man’s warm, beetle eyes were saddled with watery worry.

“The cursed ice is spreadin through all o’ Hogwarts!” he replied, nervously tapping a pink umbrella by his side. “It’s getting ter be madness out there. Gryffindor Tower is completely blocked in, the dungeons got icicles stickin out everywhere. An’ apparently the Ravenclaw Quidditch team are trapped inside the changing rooms. The blasted ice is expandin so fas’ that the Professors can’t keep up with it and there’s only so much they can do. Especially with Professor Dumbledore off searchin fer that curse-breaker.”

Hagrid paused and mumbled to himself.

“Ah, shouldn’ta said that, should not have said that.”

“What curse breaker?” David asked curiously. But the groundskeeper waved off their concerns with one of his trash can lid hands.

“Never mind tha’ now. My job is to keep you lot safe until the ice is under control. Now head back into the Grea’ Hall while I go assist Professor McGonagall.”

As he sped off, or as fast as one of his girth could go, David looked back towards his two companions, blocking out the hysteria around him.

“We have to move fast,” he told Bill and Penny. “It sounds like the ice is back with a vengeance.”

“But shouldn’t the Professors handle it?” the blonde asked, fear evident in her crystal, blue eyes.

“It sounds like they have too much on their plate in order to properly deal with the cursed ice. And this time it might not be enough to save the day,” David pointed out.

“We’re forgetting one key thing,” Bill added. “The Professors don’t even know where the origin of this ice is. They may not be able to fix it.”

“But we do. And we can,” David declared. “Bill’s right. No one besides us knows where this vault is located. It’s time for a third and final visit.”

Bill looked over his shoulder to ensure no one was listening, simultaneous worry and conflict on his handsome features. However, he also appeared resolved.

“I didn’t want to go back in there without at least four or five us just so we could have each other’s backs, but it looks like there’s no choice. The three of us will go in, break that curse, and save Hogwarts.”

David nodded in complete agreement. As much as he wanted Rowan and Ben with them, his two roommates were effectively trapped within the common room. They were the last remaining hope.

“It’s settled then. Penny, are you in?”

Though her own misgivings could still be seen in her face and body posture, Penny didn’t hesitate in her answer.

“Absolutely. I told you David that the next time something like this happens to involve me. Well, you’re going to keep that promise whether you like it or not.”

She truly is the most loyal Hufflepuff I’ve ever seen

“You’re amazing, Penny. Alright let’s go!”

And without so much as a second thought, the three teens took off running towards the thirteenth corridor.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

It didn’t take long to reach the corridor nor for David to reveal the hidden entrance. Being the third go around, he could pinpoint the spot precisely and the power of being an advanced Transfiguration student certainly didn’t hurt either.

When the eerie hallway and steps were exposed, Penny was taken aback.

“Whoa,” she uttered softly. “I’ve never seen a cursed vault before, but even this is a lot to take in at one time.”

“Stay close,” David nodded towards her. The last thing he needed was more casualties on this trip. Rowan and Bill had nearly frozen to death in each of the last instances. He would ensure nothing of the sort happened to Penny. However, her inexperience was showing already. The two Gryffindor teens already knew what to expect unlike the blonde Hufflepuff.

“Don’t worry,” he tried to reassure her. “It’s okay to be scared. We all are.”

“But it always helps to have a bit background. Especially for someone who’s never seen all of this macabre rubbish,” Bill joked.

Penny gave a frail smile, nevertheless she remained quite frightened of the ominous knights and ancient statues that surrounded them.

“What should I expect?” she asked bravely.

“If memory serves correctly, there will be a chamber with a massive door of ice in front of us, guarded by a giant shield shaped like a snowflake,” Bill explained to her.

“You’re taking the mickey, right?”

David resisted the urge to laugh despite the seriousness of the situation.

“It sounds pretty unbelievable but trust me, Penny. We’re not lying.”

As if to prove his point they came across the same giant wall of ice that stood against their path to the doors, twice as thick and formidable as before.

“Well…this is a problem,” David observed. “Will the knockback jinx be enough, Bill?”

“It’s our only hope, mate,” Bill told him, pulling out his wand. “If we hit it at the same time, it should be enough to create a big enough entry way for us to fit through.”

The two second years copied the older boy and prepared to fire.

“Give it all you got, Penny,” David told her, giving a look of encouragement. “Whatever ounce of power you think you have….summon every ounce of it.

I’m going to need it too

“On the count of three,” Bill announced and Penny’s normally cute, bubbly features took on an uncharacteristic degree of determination. “One….two….THREE!”

“Flipendo!”

Beams of blue light struck the ice with a tremendous force but to their dismay, only a slight dent was made, indicating the defenses were much stronger than originally thought of.

“Try it again. One…two…THREE!”

“Flipendo!”

This time a small hole was made through the ice, but it was barely big enough for a man to go ice fishing.

“One more,” Bill breathed heavily. “We can do this. On my count…one…two…THREE!”

This time, their efforted yielded paydirt as the combined power of their spells blasted the ice apart, leaving a man sized opening just big enough for them duck through.

“When you get inside, spread out and be ready when the door starts blasting its freezing charms,” the eldest Weasley informed them. “Penny, you remember the fire spell, yeah?”

“Incendio, right?”

“That’s the one. As soon as you get close enough to it, blast it with all your power.”

David nodded in affirmation. There was no time to think or get fancy, the only objective was to get past that door and ensure that this curse was broken once and for all. As for what came after….they could deal with that later.

Sure, enough as they entered the icy chamber and drew close, the snowflake shield began firing off freezing curses, causing the three teens to roll off to one side in order to avoid them.

“I see what you mean!” Penny yelled, drawing her wand. “Also, really wish I’d worn something other than a skirt had I known we’d literally be going into a cursed vault!”

David fired a knockback jinx to buy them some time, but their offensive nearly stalled as a freezing spell nearly hit Bill, causing him to slip forward on the slick, unstable surface.

“That was too close,” he muttered. “Alright, after the next curse it shoots off, fire away with everything you got.”

David drew his own wand and aimed carefully, shrinking low on the steps, concentrating all of his magic into the biggest inferno ball he could imagine in his head. By the hardened look on Penny’s face, she was evidently doing the same. As soon as the next freezing spell (aimed for Bill again) passed, he and the Hufflepuff were on their feet charging the door.

“INCENDIO!!” they roared simultaneously.

With their combined strength, huge plumes of fire issued forth and made contact with the shield attached the door. Through the heat and acrid smoke, David could see that the icy fortification was melting into a pool of water onto the floor. By the time the fire barrage ended, it was completely gone.

“YES!” he exclaimed. “We finally got rid of that bloody thing.”

The group barely had time to celebrate however as ominous rumbling could be heard from inside of the door, the ground quaking as though a giant were approaching.

“I don’t like the sound of that,” Penny stated, anxiety back on her face.

“I just realized, David,” Bill said turning to him. “All this time we thought this door was keeping us out of the vault…but what if it was keeping something IN?”

It was a consideration they had no time to discuss more for at that moment, as the massive doors opened to reveal a terrifying sight: an Ice Knight, made of iron but covered completely in chunks of snow and frost, about ten feet tall carrying a massive sword. It did not look pleased at their intrusion.

“Merlin’s Beard,” Bill breathed. “Everyone, take cover!!”

But he was too late. The knight struck out with his sword creating an icy wind so fierce, so deathly cold that one could not stand against it without plunging into a winter induced coma. In a quick succession, Bill’s body was quickly entrapped in ice as was Penny’s. Fortunately for David, he had managed to jump out of the way in time, all except his foot, which he managed to free.

“Blasted thing…” he muttered, ripping his foot away and breaking the containment. He ignored the rising chill in his bones as he saw his two friends stuck in blocks of ice so thick, it was a wonder they could move at all. Both of their faces were already turning blue.

“L-look out!” Bill warned threw chattered teeth as the knight swung his blade once more.

Again, David had to dive out of the away to avoid getting caught in the same prison. Wheeling around, he aimed his wand and issued out another fire blast. It caught the knight square in the chest, causing it to reel back but otherwise had no effect.

“Uh oh.”

For the third time, he avoided a blizzard blast but only just barely. There was no telling how long he could keep this up. Not to mention the health and safety of his friends were increasingly in jeopardy. He wasn’t going to win by simply dodging the strikes.

“D-D-Dave,” Penny managed to utter out. “C-c-come here. Reach into m-m-my j-j-jumper pocket.”

He did not argue, running over to her and doing as instructed. Within seconds, a bottle of green potion was in his hand.

“It’s f-f-fire breathing p-p-potion. I know i-i-it’s risky b-b-but it might be our only h-h-hope.”

“S-s-she’s right!” Bill called out in agreement. “You h-h-have to use it n-n-now!”

In a split second David managed to consider the options: fire breathing potion could damage someone’s esophagus and stomach beyond repair if too much was ingested at one time. And would it be enough to actually take down their adversary? Unless…

Wait a second, I have an idea

Ducking another blast from the Ice Knight, David wasted no more time. He quickly chugged the potion, feeling its warmth rush down his throat and into the pit of his gut (it was rather like ingesting tasteless, extremely hot water). Putting his wand directly in front of his mouth, he ran up to the Knight, and knelt down on one knee.

Summoning a deep breath, David aimed straight for its midsection with only a second to spare.

“INCENDIOOOOO!!!!”

The fire breathing potion combined with the spell of his wand issued a concentrated beam of fire so powerful that it cut through the giant’s armor like a hot knife through butter, leaving a gaping hole in the middle of its body. As soon as the damage was recognized the silent knight looked down, fell to its knees before bursting into a cloud of snow and dust.

Panting heavily, David barely even registered his victory, rushing over to help Bill and Penny. Using the last of his fire breathing reserved, he managed to carefully blow a ring of fire around the ice, cracking it to the point where both could effectively free themselves.

“D-Dave, do you know what you j-just did?” Penny asked him, her pretty features in full awe.

“Careful, Penny. You’re still shivering pretty badly.”

“F-forget me, that was the m-most amazing thing I’ve ever s-seen!”

“She’s right you know,” Bill concurred. His body still quaked as well but his larger size and body mass ensured he did not feel the effects quite as badly. “Dave, I’ve never seen a second year do that before. You just took down something ancient, something way beyond what most wizards have ever seen.”

It wasn’t that he didn’t appreciate the compliments, but David had seen this story before. Rowan and Bill each required sufficient time to recover from the door blasts and the knight’s power was far stronger than that. They needed to get to the hospital wing.

“Guys, let’s go see Madam Pomfrey before you freeze to death, come on-”

“Not before you enter that vault,” Bill cut him off.

“Forget the vault,” David insisted, supporting Penny with his own body weight. “We need to leave this place.”

“Leave after everything we did to open the bloody door?” Bill barked out with a laughter. “Not likely. David we’ll be fine. This is what you wanted: the first step in finding the answers about your brother. Go, I can take care of Penny.”

Before he could protest, the blonde placed a soft, feminine hand over his mouth.

“Hush,” she said with a smile. “B-Bill’s right, we’re b-both okay.”

Swallowing, but also nodding his head, David acquiesced to their insistence. He didn’t like the idea of leaving them behind whilst they were still in considerable trouble, but curiosity and desire overrode his fear. Any immediate threat was gone now. It was time to see just what was behind those frozen doors.

“Together,” he said to them. “All three of us.”

His friends smiled at him.

“If you insist, David.”

And just as he insisted, the three friends stepped inside the doors into the unknown.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

In contrast to the snowy, ice cream covered walls of the chamber outside, the inside of the vault was quite similar to the hallway in its décor and decoration. It was also considerably warmer. Inside was a dark, copper green colored room lined with four different knight statues, all resembling the one they had just fought. In the center was a lit column, situated upon a stone pillar, lit by a soft, yellowish glow the emanated from the inside. Upon the column, was an ancient language, the same that Rowan translated a year earlier.

“Unbelievable,” Penny breathed out.

“There is definitely something to this column here,” Bill said, rubbing his chin.

“Perhaps it has something inside?” David suggested to which eldest Weasley shrugged.

“Only one way to find out, mate. You can do the honors.”

The second year Gryffindor didn’t hesitate. Foolish as it may seem to touch a mysterious magical object of unknown origin and power, the nagging desire was too much to resist for him. He didn’t know what to expect really, if anything at all. However, a curious thing occurred upon his finger resting on the column. It began to shift and unfold as though it were a flower in bloom. What lay inside was odder still. They seemed to be hovering in midair in a yellowish mist.

“A broken wand and a book? Not exactly the treasure I was hoping for,” Bill observed.

“Who knows? Maybe their clues,” David countered. And before he could stop himself he reached inside and attempted to take the two objects. Upon doing so, a familiar voice began echoing loudly inside his head.

Find the other four vaults, David….Find my room…

Could it be…Jacob?

“Find your room?” he asked the voice aloud. “I don’t understand.”

You can’t let ‘her’ get there first! Hurry!

“Who’s her?” he asked again. “What do you mean?”

Just then he was pulled back from the center of the column by Bill.

“Dave! Snap out of it!”

“Wha?”

Bill looked at Penny and back to him, his expression confused and concerned.

“You were in some kind of trance. You kept talking to someone lime if they were in the room with us.”

“I…heard a voice,” David admitted, not knowing what else to say.

“Who?”

“My brother….told me to keep finding the other vaults. You must think I’m mad, don’t you?”

They must think I’m off my rocker. I don’t blame them either

To his surprise, neither Penny nor Bill seemed to regard him as a madman waiting to go to the looney bin.

“For what it’s worth, I believe you, Dave,” Penny spoke up.

“So do I. I could believe anything after what we just went through,” Bill agreed.

“Did he say anything specific?”

David regained his senses and analyzed the situation for a moment. How was it possible that he had just heard his brother? Even in the wizarding world, witnessing voices that weren’t there was not a good sign and yet he couldn’t shake the feeling what he heard was not the work of insanity.

“He told me to locate his room and that there are four more vaults, specifically. And to find them before ‘her’. Whoever that is.”

“Her?” Penny repeated. “This just keeps on getting weirder.”

“I concur,” Bill said. “But what about the wand and book?”

David inched closer once more and took both of the objects without further visitation from the voice. Upon inspection, he recognized the wand’s true owner.

“This is Jacob’s wand. The one he had while at Hogwarts. I’d know it anywhere.”

Bill took the leather bound journal from him and began flipping the pages, his eyebrows furrowed in befuddlement.

“This book, whoever it belonged to, is nothing but scribbles and random drawings. It appears the author was quite mad.”

“Could it be a clue to the location of the next vault?” Penny asked.

David didn’t know what to think. Far from answering questions, their journey and entry to the vault seemed to invite more questions, thickening this mystery even further. The quest to find his brother now took on a whole new meaning.

“I have no idea,” Bill said quietly after a moment of pondering. “But what I do know is that we need to get out of here before we get caught.”

Snapping back to his senses, the second year almost forgot how long they had been in here. It was long past overdue for their departure.

“Bill’s right. We don’t want to find any of the teachers waiting for us by the time we get back. It’s time to go.”

“Do you think that we stopped the cursed ice for good?” Penny wondered aloud. “I hope no one got hurt.”

It was a sentiment they all shared but one they had no way of knowing until they returned back to the halls of Hogwarts. With enough adventure completed for one day, the trio made their way out of the vault and into the thirteenth corridor.

#hogwarts mystery #fanfiction #hphm #hphm fanfiction #david grant #bill weasley #charlie weasley #penny haywood #gryffindor #hogwarts #cursed vaults #ice vault

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muertawrites · 4 years

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Muggle Magic (George Weasley x Reader)

Summary: George Weasely hires a squib to help him out in the shop, only to learn that magic doesn’t always require a wand.

Word Count: 3,100

Author’s Note: Remember when I said I was gonna post this a few days ago? lmao that was clearly a lie. But it’s finished! And I’m actually really proud of it and I promise I’m not gonna delete this one like the last couple fics I’ve posted because I’m convinced that this one doesn’t suck! I might also be posting more regularly now since I started a new antidepressant that actually makes it so that I want to do productive things with my time and constant need for escapism. I hope you like my first Wizarding World fic because there will be more, considering its the one fandom I let myself get somewhat obsessive about. Enjoy, dearies~

~ 💀🌸 Muerta 🌸💀

( masterlist )

Working for George Weasley brought magic back into your life.

He hired you a little over two years ago, and to say he took a chance on you was an understatement; you were a squib - come to London to get a master’s degree in the hopes of becoming a muggle historian - who had stumbled into Diagon Alley in an attempt to reconnect with your magical roots. You’d stepped into Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes during a rare moment of calm when the shop was empty and, noticing the history books peeking out of your bag, George struck up a conversation with you, mentioning his father’s long-lived love of muggle culture.

Despite the stigma you carried, your first conversation with George offered him a shortened version of your life’s story; how you convinced your family to send you away to a muggle boarding school when your letter to a magical institution didn’t arrive by the time you turned eleven, spending your teenage years learning everything there was to know about living outside the magical world. He enjoyed your wit and passion, your lively intelligence, the comfort you had with yourself in the face of discretion, and, deciding that keeping anyone else around would be a bore after making your acquaintance, offered you a part-time position in the shop to help pay your way through grad school.

Of course, your adjustment to the magical world after years separated from it was a challenge.

George kindly let you live in the apartment above the shop, taking rent out of your pay so that you didn’t have to bother converting such a large portion of your income into muggle money every month. Work, however, was a much more significant struggle; having no wand to help you manage the store and its immense inventory, you had to arrive early to most of your shifts in order to organize and replace product by hand, often putting yourself in danger traversing the stock room’s stories-tall ladder. After a particularly terrifying fall in which you narrowly avoided death, George took it upon himself to get you some help where genetics had failed you; he enchanted about a thousand paper cranes to pull stock for you, retrieving and storing anything you needed on command.

“With them around, what do you need me for?” you’d teased him, quietly thankful for his care to ensure no loss of life or limb would befall you under his watch.

“Eh,” he’d grinned, “they could never agitate me quite as well as you do.”

Though it was odd returning to a world you could never fully be part of, working for George Weasley made the vertigo of reassociation fun. He always had some sort of funny little trick up his sleeve, be it something malicious, like slipping sugar cubes into your tea that made your hair turn into ostrich feathers or jinxing the cash register to shoot fireworks at random when opened, or something winsome, like making it snow inside as the winter holidays approached or enchanting your textbooks so that their lessons leapt off the page, playing out before you in a theater of paper mache. He engaged you in his own work, inquiring your aid in developing new products, and was deeply interested in yours, enraptured with your retellings of a history he was unaware took place so near to his own. He even brought you books on magical history from Flourish and Blotts, stopping weekly on his way into work, suggesting you consider taking up the practice of teaching the subject.

“Seriously, you should look into it,” he told you. “If I’d had you instead of Professor Binns, I might’ve actually cared enough to pass a class.”

During slow hours, you and George would sit at the counter and eat lunch together, talking about everything and nothing and anything else in between. You told George about your childhood; how, growing up, you dreamed of doing things you would never be able to do, the horror you felt having your life’s path ripped from under you at such a young age, how you managed to find yourself again through art and history and literature. He told you about his own youth; the boisterous years of his life spent at Hogwarts, the incredible fantasies and ambitions he and his brother would dream up during late nights spent awake in their shared bedroom, the gaping hole his twin’s absence left in his soul the night he died. George was fourteen years your senior, but you were able to laugh and grieve with him as easily as if you’d been born a day apart.

You loved working with George. Being a part of Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes gave you a sense of belonging you’d never felt before; You often felt caught between the magical and muggle worlds, standing in the threshold between the two but never able to set foot into either. In the shop with George, however, you could exist without conflict - the halves of your universe were indistinguishable from one another, and for once in your life you finally felt whole. You’d found your home in the last possible place you ever expected to.

As much as you loved the shop and your employer, there were certain things about your job that drove you absolutely insane - namely, the parchment bookkeeping system. It was true that all things ancient and antique were your area of expertise, but trying to keep track of a business with nothing but quills, ink, and a stack of heavy, leatherbound volumes was what you envisioned was similar to experiencing the ninth circle of Hell. Opening and closing every day took ages, and George’s office was so cluttered with paperwork that finding anything amongst his things required a full-fledged expedition into every cabinet in the building. Fed up with the chaos, you decided it was time to bring the wizarding world (at least the corner of it you occupied) into the Twenty-First Century.

“What the hell’s all this?”

George furrowed his brow in bewilderment as he traversed the stairs into his office, where you were seated at his desk in front of a shiny new Mac.

“A computer!” you told him, grinning. “We’re going to use it to help run the books. I sent an owl to your dad asking if he had anything like it laying around his shed; he sent this over last night.”

“So it’s a muggle thing,” George assumed, setting his briefcase beside the monitor as he pulled up a chair beside you.

You nodded.

“I’ll teach you how to use it. I’ve been here since six scanning files into it; we’ll be able to access and keep the books in order much easier now.”

You opened the spreadsheet you’d made outlining the last quarter’s numbers, smiling proudly as George’s eyes widened in awe.

“That’s incredible,” he said, leaning in to inspect the screen. “But what about our ledgers? How can this thing hold all of that information?”

You giggled at his curiosity, thinking it a bit adorable how out of touch he was.

“I’ve kept the ledgers so we still have physical records of everything,” you explained, “but having it all at hand on the computer will make the boring parts of the business a lot easier. I’ve got everything matched up with my laptop, too, so I can open and close quicker and all the numbers will be sent right to you.”

George quirked a brow.

“Laptop?”

“It’s a small version of a computer,” you told him. “The screen and the keyboard” - you pointed each of these parts out - “fold together like a notebook so I can take it with me wherever I go.”

George shook his head, clearly baffled by the complexity and convenience of muggle technology.

“Blimey,” he mused. “I never would’ve guessed muggles could do all this without magic. It’s bloody brilliant.”

You rolled your eyes, smiling to yourself as you gathered one of the volumes you’d been searching through and returned it to its place on the wall of shelves overlooking George’s desk.

“You need to give us more credit,” you bantered. “Muggles are a lot more magical than you’d think.”

The rest of the morning was spent digitally organizing documents and giving George a crash course in computer science, by the end of which he considered himself an expert in the subject. When the shop opened at noon, you could barely pull him away from his desk.

Aside from the morning’s excitement, the rest of the day ran as usual. You spent the afternoon fluttering around the building, keeping and moving inventory while George used the weekday calm to hole himself up in his workshop and concentrate on new product. By the time evening rolled around you were adequately exhausted, deciding to settle behind the counter with a book and a cup of tea while you waited to close.

“You said something earlier,” George announced as he finally returned down the stairs - the first time you’d seen him in hours - “about muggles and magic. I can’t seem to figure out what you mean.”

“Good evening to you, too,” you greeted him, glancing up from your book and shooting him an amused grin. “What’s got you confused?”

George hoisted himself up onto the counter, turning so he faced you and folding his legs beneath him. For someone fresh into his early forties, he still acted much like you imagined he did as a teenager.

“You said that muggles were magical,” he reminded you, “but you can’t be, really. Not without… well, y’know, magic. I can’t see what can be so magical about a world that doesn’t have what ours has.”

You shut your book, setting it in your lap as you searched for the right words to describe what you were thinking.

“It’s not… magic in the magical sense,” you attempted, earning a strange look from George. “Muggle magic is more about… defying the odds than doing the impossible. It’s also about how things make you feel. Things people have done and created… situations and experiences that inspire awe; that make you feel like you’re living outside the regular world.”

George continued to gaze at you, his eyes narrowing as he attempted to process what you were trying to convey.

“Like what?” he wondered.

You thought for a moment, folding your arms over your chest and leaning back into your chair.

“... Cathedrals,” was the first thing that came to mind. “When you stand in the center of a cathedral that’s been standing for hundreds of years, and you think about how incredible it is that something so lasting and beautiful could have been created by people who had so little in resources compared to what we have today.

“Or music. Like, how does something as simple as sound cause us to feel so much emotion? A good song can make you feel joy or bring you to tears and can connect strangers to each other in such an intimate way. I think it’s the most magical thing we have.”

George smirked at you. You noticed a new brightness in his eyes when your gaze met his, and you watched, bemused, as he slid off the counter and onto his feet, crossing his arms over his chest.

“What else?” he asked.

“Medicine,” you replied. “We can cure things most people died of fifty or sixty years ago. We can replace our organs if they’re not working properly - there are even labs that are working to grow organs outside of the human body or replace those that don’t work with artificial ones. We can even change the way we look if we want.

“And,” you stood up, pulling a pen out of the vase you used to hold quills beside the register, “there’s technology. Muggles have incredible technology! I mean, look at this - millions of people in this world who possess the ability to perform magic and yet you’re all still using quills you have to re-dip in ink.”

George chuckled at you, leaning in as he took the utensil from your hand, his fingers brushing against yours and leaving a delicate tingle in their wake. You couldn’t help but blush, glancing down at your feet before looking back up at him.

“I appreciate your sentiment, love,” he teased, “but I don’t think a pound store pen is going to inspire awe in anyone - magical or otherwise.”

You scoffed, rolling your eyes.

“You know what I mean,” you said, taking the pen back from him and returning it to its place. “Muggles are incredible, and we’re incredible without magic making everything so easy for us.”

George, who still loomed close above you, placed a hand against his chest in feigned shock, his jaw dropping and eyes growing dramatically wide.

“Easy?” he taunted, his expression brightening ever so slightly as you grinned amusedly up at him. “You think magic makes everything easy? I’ll have you know, I nearly blew us to smithereens today trying to perfect our latest Whizbangs design. Bringing joy to people’s lives is extremely difficult and dangerous work, which you should respect me for, little darling.”

You smirked at him, letting out a soft chuckle as you crossed your arms and leaned back against the counter.

“Your stupidity with pyrotechnics is no one’s fault but your own, Georgie,” you joked, to which he gave you a tickling pinch in your side and scooped you over his shoulder as you bent down to fend him off. You squealed with laughter as he spun you around, setting you down atop the stairs when he felt you’d had enough. He sat on the step below you, giving your knee an affectionate pat.

“... You know, I do think there’s a type of magic we wizards share with muggles,” George said after a period of comfortable silence. “That is, if you muggles feel human emotion like the rest of us.”

You playfully shoved his shoulder, and he grinned mirthfully as he slouched comfortably into the side of your body.

“And what is that?” you inquired.

“Joy,” George answered matter of factly. He leaned closer into you, looking out over the empty, dusk-lit shop as he allowed his thoughts to guide his voice. “I don’t think… I’ve ever felt joy like I used to since Fred died. Not until you showed up, anyway. Having a laugh with you almost feels the same as it did with Freddie. I’ve missed that feeling… and no magic could ever replace it.”

You hummed thoughtfully, wrapping an arm around his broad shoulders as a gesture of comfort.

It was odd, you thought to yourself, working with George. He was your boss, but you had a hard time seeing him that way; Ever since he helped you move in upstairs, you’d seen him as a friend, and you knew simply by the way he looked at you that he saw you the same. You could hardly call what you had with him a business relationship - it hadn’t started that way, even from the moment you met him, and the more time you spent in his company, the more its trajectory changed into something much deeper and more significant.

It suddenly dawned on you that you loved him - in a way no one should ever love their much older employer and landlord.

As if sensing the way your heart dropped, fluttering wildly, into the pit of your stomach, George pulled away from you, taking your hand gently in his and stroking your knuckles with his thumb.

“You went silent,” he noticed. “You never go silent.”

You grinned a little, shame creeping into your features as a hot, blistering blush.

“I was just thinking,” you told him. “... Do you think love is another type of magic?”

George blinked, pondering the idea.

“Of course,” he finally answered. “Love is what won the war.”

You nodded, looking down at his fingers wrapped around your palm and twining them with yours.

“Your love for Fred is what keeps him alive,” you said. “I never met him but I always feel him here because of you. He’d be proud.”

George swallowed heavily; you could hear the tension in his throat, could feel the weight of hesitation pressing in the small space between you. You peered back up at him, meeting his brown eyes that watched you intently.

“Your passion is what gives you magic,” he murmured. “You don’t need a wand or any kind of innate ability to do it for you. I’ve realized… that’s the reason I love you. Among all else.”

Though you sensed the words were coming, they still hit you like a speeding lorry.

You stared at him, shaken, the last breath you took trapped in your chest. You had no idea how to respond. Should you tell him that you loved him, too? Should you be rational and tell him that this was inappropriate for a business owner and his subordinate? Should you kiss him? Every part of you wanted to kiss him; had been wanting to for a very, very long time.

You raised the hand that wasn’t twined with his up to his cheek, grazing your thumb over the warm, tender flesh there. Your fingers grazed the scar where his ear used to be, getting twisted in the tendrils of his amber red hair that framed the sides of his handsome, familiar face. You leaned forward and kissed him, the sensation of his lips at last touching yours causing an explosion throughout every nerve of your body. Despite the beauty of the moment, you couldn’t help but wonder to yourself, My god, if kissing him feels like this, I can’t wait to feel what sex with him is like.

George pulled away after what felt like equally too long and not long enough, giving you a dopey, lidded-eyed smile that made your heart combust all over again. You hated the feeling, but never wanted it to stop.

“Would you kiss me like that every day if I asked you?” George wondered, sounding so dreamy and unlike himself it took you somewhat aback.

You nodded, squeezing the hand that was still wrapped so intimately around his.

“Every day,” you assured him. “It’s the best kind of magic you could ever show me.”

George grinned, playfully tapping his finger against the tip of your nose which - in a testament to how far your relationship had already crossed the line - he knew you would hate, chuckling as he watched you flinch away from him.

“Just wait ‘til I perfect those Whizbangs,” he told you. “Then we’ll talk.”

#muerta's works #george weasley #george weasley x reader #george weasley x y/n #george weasley x you #george weasley fanfiction #harry potter fanfiction #fanfiction #weasley twins #george weasly fluff #george weasly x reader fluff #weasley's wizard wheezes #self insert fanfiction #posting again bc i want people to see it!!!!!!!!!

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phantasticworks · 4 years

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If You Don’t Love Me, Pretend - Chapter Fifteen

hello!! now you must be thinking to yourself, is it Friday already? Not quite (at least it's not where I'm at) but I'm updating a little early as a treat to all of you (totally has nothing to do with my new job having me working 40+ hours a week and very little time to myself lol)

read on ao3

Words: 9.3k

Summary: Dan and Phil settle into a new normal with their family of five

Warnings for this chapter: Swearing

Monday morning is a little hectic in the sense that having three kids to coordinate is a little harder than just the two, but Dan stays thankful that Levi is old enough to pretty much take care of himself. Still, it does stress him out just a little trying to make sure everyone has a lunch and their backpacks sorted. Phil helps to calm him down a bit, assuring him over and over again that he’s checked and double checked that everyone has their lunch packed and their backpacks adequately stocked.

By the time breakfast is over and they’re heading out the door Dan has calmed down significantly. The twins hug Phil goodbye, and Dan accepts the kiss on his cheek with a soft smile, grateful for the attention and affection. Levi stands awkwardly by the door but otherwise doesn’t react. Not that Dan expected him to, since Levi hadn’t seemed outwardly bothered by any displays of affection between the two of them, but still. He can’t help but be nervous that it might make him uncomfortable. And, a smaller, almost buried part of him, worries that not only would it bother Levi, but that he might one day have some sort of homophobic outburst.

“Bye, drive save, see you when you get home,” Phil murmurs into Dan’s ear before releasing him. “Bye, kiddos, learn something new today!” Phil calls to where the twins are already on their way down the corridor.

Dan rolls his eyes at the twins’ never-ending excitement for a new day. “I swear,” he mutters. He turns to smile at Phil, kissing his cheek fleetingly. “Bye, love.”

Levi waits until Dan’s out the door before he starts walking, falling into step beside him. He’s quiet, but Dan can feel the anxiety rolling off him in waves.

“Excited about the first day?” Dan asks, his tone joking.

Levi’s gaze darts up to meet Dan’s. He glances back at the floor and shrugs. “Not exactly.”

Dan nods in understanding. “I don’t blame you. Secondary school is shit.” He winces when he realizes what he’s said. “Don’t tell Phil I said that.”

That makes Levi smile, just a little. “Sure.”

“Amelia, quit tugging on the door, it’s not gonna unlock any faster with you ripping the handle off.” She obediently releases it, staring at him with big brown eyes as she waits for him to press the button on his key fob. He clicks it, gesturing to the door. “Alright, go ahead.”

The twins scramble into the backseat while Levi awkwardly hovers near the passenger door. Dan understands his discomfort. “You can sit up front,” he says with a smile.

Levi looks almost relieved as he tugs open the door, settling into the seat with his backpack at his feet. “Usually have to sit in the back everywhere I go. They act like I’m gonna pull a knife or something,” he sighs. He sounds so defeated, so miserable, and it just tugs painfully on Dan’s heart.

In an effort to lighten the mood, Dan shrugs. “I figure if you were going to stab me you’d have already done it at this point so I’m not too worried about that.” He grins when Levi snorts out a laugh.

“True enough, I guess.” He turns his gaze to the window, falling silent as he watches the scenery passing by his window. There’s not much to see on such a dreary London day, but Dan leaves him to it, humming to himself and occasionally trading conversation with the twins.

“This is where the twins go to school,” Dan informs Levi as they pull into the parking lot. Dan unbuckles his seatbelt and reaches for the door handle, glancing over at the teenager. “I usually walk them to the door, but you can stay here if you want.”

Levi seems to consider it but ultimately nods. “I’ll just wait here,” he says quietly. He turns around to see the kids, smiling broadly at them. “I’ll see you guys later, yeah? Have a good day at school.”

“Bye, Levi!” Amelia calls, already hopping out of the car.

Jaiden has the decency to meet Levi’s eyes at least, grinning back at him before departing. “Bye!”

“Love you guys!” Levi calls after them, an almost hurt look in his eyes.

The twins echo the sentiment as they allow Dan to help them put their backpacks on, chattering excitedly. He half-listens, feeling a little more than awkward knowing Levi is watching and probably annoyed that his siblings aren’t still wrapped up in him as they were the day before.

Dan takes ahold of each of their hands and walks them to the door quickly. Before he releases them, he crouches down, smiling warmly as they both throw their arms around him in a hug. “Bye, loves. Have a good day today and behave. I love you.”

Amelia squeezes a little more at that. “Love you too, Daddy,” she replies before pulling out of his grip. “Can I go now? Darcy’s waiting for me over there,” She points to the building, where Darcy is in fact waiting with Esme, who’s giving Dan a flirtatious smile.

“Go ahead, sweetheart,” Dan nods, waving half-heartedly at Esme. He turns to Jaiden. “Alright, bug?”

Jaiden nods before gesturing to the car. “Levi is coming home with us after school, right?”

Dan laughs, but nods. “Yes, sir, he sure is. Now, go ahead, before you’re late.”

The little boy smiles, looking so much like his older brother that it nearly knocks Dan down. “Love you!” he calls as he races off towards the door.

“Love you too, bub. Have a good day!” Dan calls back. He waits until he’s reached Esme and they’ve turned in the direction of the classrooms before he turns himself around and heads back to the car.

Levi is waiting, staring out the window with a vaguely surprised look on his face. Dan fastens his seatbelt again, starting the car and pulling out of the parking lot carefully before sending a worried glance Levi’s way. “Everything alright, bud?” He asks gently, the term of endearment slipping out without permission. He wishes he could put it back in his mouth.

The boy nods slowly. “You really care for them, huh?” He says, surprising Dan.

Dan glances over at him, a bit unsure how to respond. He decides honesty is enough. “I do, yeah. Phil and I both do, so much.” It’s hard to deny the unwavering fondness in his voice, and he hopes that he doesn’t come across as sounding quite so pathetic.

“I… I’m glad that they got you guys. Instead of someone else.” Levi’s voice is quiet and bordering on embarrassed, and Dan’s heart clenches at the sound of it.

“Well… I think we were the lucky ones, there.” Dan clears his throat as he pulls into his designated parking spot. “Anyway, here we are.”

Levi stares up at the building. “It’s…” He glances over at Dan. “Bit posh, innit?”

Dan laughs aloud and obnoxiously. “A bit, yeah.” He smiles. “It took me a bit of getting used to as well when I first started.” He opens his door and climbs out, reaching into the back seat for his bag he’d thrown there carelessly earlier.

The teen shakes his head before slowly following after Dan, gathering up his backpack and moving to stand in front of the car. “It looks expensive,” Levi observes, frowning.

A snort leaves Dan without his permission, but Levi is barely even looking at him, so entranced in taking in the school he’d be going to from now on. “Oh, it is,” Dan jokes. It’s not really a joke at all, because the school is expensive, in general.

Levi gives him an incredulous look. “What does Phil do again?”

Dan smirks, locking the car with the key fob as he comes to a stop in front of Levi. “BBC producer.”

“Right,” Levi says, sounding faint. “That explains it.”

Heading towards the door and confident that Levi is following after him, Dan shrugs. “Not really. You all have free tuition,” he says, holding the door to the school open and gesturing for Levi to enter. He does, but with a sharp, surprised look thrown Dan’s way. “Staff privileges, and all that,” Dan says with a dismissive wave of his hand.

“Right,” Levi echoes his earlier words.

Dan leads the way down the halls, headed for his office. “I did give you your schedule yesterday, right?”

“Yeah,” Levi replies, a bit belatedly. It was still early enough that not a lot of people were here yet, but there were plenty of students milling about, and those students were quickly realizing that this was a new kid. Dan tried his hardest not to make eye contact with these kids; he didn’t know if it was better or worse to be known as the kid of a faculty member, and that wouldn’t be a decision he made for Levi.

Nodding to himself, Dan rattles his keys a bit as they get to the door to his office, finally finding the stupid thing and letting them inside. “I told Louise I could give you the tour like I usually do with the other students, but if that would embarrass you she’s agreed to take over instead.”

Something about this must rub Levi the wrong way, and he sends Dan a sharp look, his gaze hardened. “Why would I be embarrassed?” He says bitingly.

Dan shrugs, ignoring the attitude. “I don’t know. Is it still lame to be known as a teacher’s kid or something?”

“I’m not your kid,” Levi snaps. He almost looks ashamed as soon as he’s said it, but rather than apologize, he snaps his mouth shut, staring down at the ground.

A rough kind of emotion, one that burns at his throat in the worst kind of way, courses through Dan’s veins. He clears his throat once, twice, before speaking. “Right. I know that. I just mean…” He sighs. “Assuming students do realize that you live with me, I don’t know how embarrassing that would be for you, considering I work here. If you’d rather they didn’t see you around me, for whatever reason, I’ll have Louise do the tour.” He’s all business now, trying to erase any hint of emotion.

Levi nods slowly. His shoulders slowly deflate, and the fight seems to go out of him. “Okay,” he mumbles.

“So, do you want Louise to do it?”

Levi flinches a little, an almost guilty look on his face as he nods. “Yeah.”

Dan tries to ignore the hurt he feels at that as he nods. “Alright, I’ll walk you to her office.”

“Is she the headmistress?” Levi asks, making Dan realize he hadn’t even explained that bit yet.

“Sorry, yeah, I meant to say that. She is. And one of my closest friends, really. Her daughter Darcy is Amelia’s best friend.”

Levi doesn’t respond as they’ve reached a door and Dan is rapping on it impatiently. “Lou?” He calls.

“Mhm? Come in.” At the invitation Dan cracks the door open, unsurprised to find Louise sat at her desk, tapping on her computer. “Oh, hello, love. Ah, this must be Levi!” She stands from the desk and smiles broadly at him. “My god, Jaiden really does favor you,” she says, sounding surprised as she shares a look with Dan.

Dan only rolls his eyes. “Obviously, he does. They happen to be related, you know.”

Louise hushes him. “Shut it, Howell,” she says playfully. “Right, well, I’m Ms. Pentland, then. Are we ready for a tour, dear?” Dan loves that without even asking, she knows, somehow, that Levi would be more comfortable with that. Or perhaps she’d just deduced that it’s the only possible reason Dan could have to bring him into her office this early. Either way, he loves her to bits for it.

“Er, yeah. Yes, ma’am,” Levi stammers out.

“What a polite boy you are! Well, c’mon then, we’d better hurry before classes start. I’d hate to walk you into a class that’s already started.” She begins to lead the way out of the office, but Levi sends a panicked look Dan’s way. Something about the fact that Dan’s the only familiar person here is likely the only reason he turns to him, but Dan still offers him an encouraging smile.

“Go ahead. Louise is great, I promise. I’ll just be in my office if you need me at all today, yeah?” He tries to sound less panicked and more reassuring, but truthfully he’s just as nervous for Levi’s first day here.

“Okay,” Levi nods. He takes a step out of the office before pausing. “Erm, after school do I just…”

Dan smiles. “You can come by my office or if I’m not there you can just come straight to the car. I’ll wait on you, promise.”

Levi nods, reassured. “Alright. Bye, Dan.”

“Bye,” Dan calls after him, waiting until they’d gone to head in the opposite direction to his own office. He hopes, more than anything, that Levi has an easy day today. He prays it’s not a wasted hope.

~~~

Dan spends nearly the entire day worrying himself to death about how Levi’s first day is going to go. He spends the morning getting almost no work done, just stressing about how Levi is doing, and by lunch time he feels nearly manic. He opens the lunch that Phil had packed for him, looking forward to a cute little post-it note. It’s silly how quickly he’d grown attached to the little doodles, honestly.

Today he’s faced with a surprise when he doesn’t see a cute drawing, but rather a short paragraph. Confused, he squints down at it as he reads.

Dan- I know you’re nervous about Levi’s first day of school and you’re probably on the verge of freaking out but you should know you’re doing your very best and we all appreciate you so much. Especially me. <3 Ps I know you’re just in this for the bad doodles you can mock me for, so flip this over

Dan’s eyes are misting as he flips it over, laughing aloud when he sees today’s drawing. It’s a poorly drawn fish, but clearly Phil spent some time on it, as it’s actually colored in. Above it, in a speech bubble, is the words, “Just keep swimming!!” The smile on Dan’s face is almost painful, and he can feel himself fully crying now.

Pulling out his phone, he takes a quick picture of the note, just the doodle, the note on the other side felt far too personal. He sends it to Louise with a smiling face emoji before tapping over to his conversation with Phil.

Dan: glub glub

He sets his phone down on his desk and actually begins eating as he waits for a response, clicking on his desktop over to the Spotify tab so he can listen to some music while he eats. He’s just started up one of his favorite playlists when he hears his phone beep. Smiling already, he picks it up, grinning down at the reply there.

Phil: glub glub glub!!

Phil: Did you like it?

Dan: I always do

Phil: :’)

Dan: <3 <3

Dan: I liked the note on the other side, too

Phil: :)

Phil: Good, I meant it.

Dan: sap

Phil: You have no proof of that

Dan: oh but don’t I

Phil: Whatever Howell you love me

Dan’s heart races at those words. He feels ridiculous for even pretending he doesn’t know why. Still, he can’t formulate a serious response to those words.

Dan: eh

It takes a little longer this time, but Phil sends back a fish emoji and two heart emojis, a black one and a blue one. Dan pretends he doesn’t see the symbolism there as he sends back his own fish emoji, and after hesitating, he taps on a pink heart. Phil would appreciate the sappiness, he was sure.

~~~

“Come in,” Dan calls when he hears a knock on his door. It’s the end of the day, and he’s gathering up his things, humming to himself. He glances up when the door opens, smiling easily when he sees Levi stood there. “Hey, Levi. Sorry, I’m almost finished in here.”

Levi nods, shoving his hands in his pockets and taking a step into the room. He looks a little awkward, and his eyes flit around quickly, almost like he’s contemplating saying something. Dan doesn’t press, deciding to let Levi speak if he wants to. He finishes gathering his things, stuffing his laptop and some files into his bag before grabbing his coat and shrugging it on. “Ready?”

The teen shrugs, then nods. Dan gestures for him to go ahead, turning to lock the door behind them. He’s just turned around and started down the hall when Levi speaks. “I found a note in my lunchbox,” he says carefully. He doesn’t sound particularly annoyed or bothered, just confused, if anything.

“Oh?” Dan says, wondering if Levi will elaborate.

He does, pulling it out of his pocket and handing it over. Dan glances over it, smiling as he reads it to himself. Phil had drawn a koala, and underneath it is the caption “I hope today koala-fies as a good day!”

Dan snorts and hands it back. “That’d be Phil’s primary school sense of humor, I’m afraid.”

Levi still looks confused. “Does he… Is this like a thing he always does?”

They’ve reached the car, so Dan unlocks it and tosses his bag in the backseat. He nods as they climb into the car. “Yeah. Well, I mean,” he gestures around them vaguely. “He started doing it on the twins’ first day of school and they liked it so now he just does it for all of us.”

Levi snorts at that. “He does one for you too?” He sounds disbelieving.

Dan smiles, reaching into his pocket for his wallet. Without much preamble he pulls out the first of the sticky notes he’d received, the one with the rat on it. He hands it over to Levi as he reaches for his seatbelt with his other hand.

It’s quiet for a moment as Levi reads over it, a startled laugh leaving him. “That’s…” He trails off, handing the paper back. Dan tucks it neatly back into his wallet. “I mean, if I’m being honest, that’s just disgusting.”

Dan tenses up, glancing over at Levi with a guarded expression. “Yeah?’

Levi seems to realize how that sounded, and he looks panicked as he stutters out an apology. “Sorry, that’s not- I didn’t- I just meant like- it’s sappy. That he leaves you like love notes or whatever.”

It’s funny, the paradox of how that makes Dan both bristle and warm at the same time. “They’re not exactly love notes,” he mumbles, pulling out of the parking lot.

There’s a laugh, and when he glances at Levi, he’s grinning. “Right. Sure. Not a love note.”

“He leaves them for the twins, too,” Dan says, his voice defensive.

Levi shrugs. “He’s trying to be some perfect parent or whatever.”

This really does make Dan bristle, and he side-eyes the boy next to him, unsure how to proceed with defending Phil. Eventually, he settles on, “Phil’s just trying his best to make them feel loved. I know that seems weird, since we’re not your, like, real parents, or whatever, but I know his heart is in the right place.”

It’s quiet for a few moments, and Dan thinks Levi’s not going to say anything more on the subject, but eventually he lets out a slow breath. “I know. Sorry. I’m glad you guys are like, trying. It’s just…”

Dan feels such a deep sympathy for this child, it settles heavy in his chest, almost making it hard for him to breathe. “It’s weird, I know. I’m sorry.”

Levi glances at him, surprised, before he glances back out the window, shrugging. “Not your fault.”

They don’t talk after that, and Dan parks the car out in front of the primary school, offering again for Levi to go with him if he wants. He declines the offer. Dan tries not to let that bother him as he gets out of the car, making his way up to the building where kids are milling about, waiting for their parents. Jaiden spots him first, jumping up and running straight to him, his arms held out.

Dan laughs, scooping him up and kissing his head fondly. “Hey, bubby. How was your day?”

“Fine,” Jaiden says quickly. “Where’s Levi?”

That makes Dan smile. “Waiting in the car for us. Where’s your sister?”

Jaiden gestures vaguely behind him. “She’s- somewhere,” He says, distracted.

“Very insightful, thank you,” Dan says seriously, trying to hide his smirk. He glances around for her, spotting her pigtails running around with two other little girls. “Mia!” He calls. “Time to go, lovey!”

Her head snaps up as she looks for the source of the voice. When she sees him she grins widely, waving at him. She bids goodbye to her friends before skipping over. “Hi, Daddy,” she greets, sliding her hand into the one he’s not currently using to hoist Jaiden up.

“Hello there, sweetheart. Ready to go?” He smiles down at her.

She nods and they start towards the car. As they go, Jaiden is talking excitedly into his ear, but Amelia tugs on his hand to get his attention. “Did Levi have a good day?” She asks, looking nervous.

Dan smiles at this precious girl. “I don’t know. We’ll have to ask him about his day, won’t we?”

Amelia nods, looking thoughtful. “Dad will probably ask, he always asks.”

It takes a moment for Dan to realize that “Dad” is her endearment for Phil at the moment. He smiles. “I’m sure you’re right, hon. I’m sure you are.”

They talk Levi’s ear off in the car ride home, and since today was a day that Phil got off early, he was there to greet them when they got there. Amelia all but jumps in his arms as soon as she and Jaiden have tugged their shoes off, and Dan rolls his eyes.

“Hey, love-bug! How was school?” Phil asks, shifting her to get a better grip on her. Jaiden is hovering next to him, looking up at him with wide eyes. Phil smiles down at him, petting his hair affectionately.

“It was fun! We learned about planets!” Amelia rattles off.

At this announcement, Phil feigns an exaggerated gasp. “That’s my favorite subject! You’ll have to tell me all about it at dinner!”

Amelia giggles and nods. “I will.”

Phil smiles at her and turns to look at Dan. His smile drops into something softer, fonder, as he looks at him. “Hey,” he says quietly, watching as Dan tugs his shoes off and drops his bag beside the shoe rack. “How was work, love?”

Dan shrugs, stepping closer. “It was work,” he says, tired just thinking about it.

“Ah,” Phil says knowingly. He shifts Mia again, further back on his hip, so he can lean in and place a kiss on Dan’s cheek. “I’ll make dinner tonight, if you want.”

“That’d be great, honestly,” Dan sighs, nearly moaning at the idea of not having to stand up and cook.

Phil laughs, but before he can respond, they’re interrupted by Jaiden clearing his throat. They look down at him and Phil quirks an eyebrow. “Yes?”

Jaiden crinkles his nose. “Are you two gonna kiss? I don’t wanna be in here if you’re gonna be smooching.”

On another day this might embarrass Dan, but today isn’t that day. Instead he just cackles, heart warm at the frankly ridiculous look on Phil’s face. “Yeah? Don’t worry, Jai-bird, we won’t traumatize you like that.”

Jaiden looks relieved. “Thanks. Can I go play on the Switch?”

Dan laughs again, but nods. “Go for it.”

Amelia squirms out of Phil’s grip, chasing after her brother. “Make sure you share, guys!” Phil calls after them.

They mutter some affirmatives before they disappear. Dan sighs. He’s almost forgotten that they aren’t alone with how quietly Levi has been hovering near the door for the past couple of minutes, but when he remembers he glances over at him, smiling. “You can go play with them, if you want, or do whatever. We’ll let you know when it’s time for dinner.”

Levi nods. “Okay.” He glances down as he starts to walk past them, but Phil calling his name has him turning around, looking briefly panicked. “Yeah?”

“How was school?” Phil asks. Dan almost laughs but bites his tongue. He knew Phil would ask the very first chance he got.

Levi looks surprised. “Er- it was alright. Good, I guess, actually.” He sounds confused by his own words.

Phil smiles widely. “Great! I was hoping you’d like the school. I know it’s ridiculously posh, but it’s a nice school.”

“Yeah,” Levi agrees passively, shifting on his feet and gripping his backpack strap tightly. “I guess so.”

“Did you have all the school supplies you need?” Phil asks.

Levi nods. “Yeah. They said I’d have to print my essays and stuff, though.” He glances down as he says this, clearly uncomfortable with even mentioning that he might need something.

“That’s fine, we have a printer in the office, you’re welcome to use it whenever you want.”

“Okay. Thanks.” Levi hesitates, gesturing to the stairs. “Can I…”

Phil looks embarrassed. “Yeah! Go ahead, we’ll let you know when it’s time for dinner.”

Levi nods before disappearing up the stairs, leaving Dan and Phil alone in the hall. “Well?” Phil says, turning to look at Dan.

“Well what?” Dan says, smiling.

Phil mirrors the expression. “How’d I do on the whole parenting thing?”

Dan rolls his eyes before heading to the kitchen, rolling his sleeves up as he goes. “Do you want me to sit here and stroke your ego?” he asks sardonically.

“I mean, if you want to stroke something-“ Phil giggles.

This time, Dan does blush. “Shut up,” he mumbles. “The filth that you come up with sometimes, I swear.”

“C’mon, Dan, it was funny. Tell me I’m funny,” Phil pesters him, poking at his sides and making Dan yelp.

“No!” Dan laughs, squirming away when Phil tries to corner him, his hands raised like talons. “Go away, menace.”

Phil grins, grabbing Dan’s t-shirt and tugging him back. “Nope. I’m cooking dinner, remember?”

“Fine, so I’ll go away,” Dan concedes, pulling out of his grip.

Phil whines at this. “Danny,” he protests. “I’ll get bored without you. Keep me company?” He puts his bottom lip out in a pout.

Dan stares at his lips for a little too long, flushing and clearing his throat when he realizes what he’s just done. “What do I get out of it?”

There’s a smirk on Phil’s lips when he leans in, nearly giving Dan a heart attack. He’s so sure he’s about to be kissed, but instead Phil’s lips brush against his jaw. “All my love and affection, Daniel.”

This time Dan has the wherewithal to shove him away, laughing. “Ew. Keep it in your pants, Lester.”

A spot of color blossoms on Phil’s cheek, but he turns around before Dan can tease him for it. “Nevermind, go away, you’re horrible company.”

Dan laughs good-naturedly. In the end, of course, he stays.

~~~

The next couple of days pass in a sort of blur and before they know it, the school week is over and it’s Friday night. Dan was tucked into Phil’s arms on the sofa, feeling perfectly cozy as the kids sat around watching their film of choice for the evening. They were having a lazy sort of night and Dan was more than happy to just fall asleep right then and there. Phil had other ideas apparently, as he kept commenting softly about the plot of the film, quiet enough that only Dan could hear him.

“It just seems unrealistic, in my opinion. I don’t really think that this would actually work in the real world,” Phil is saying.

Dan lifts his head from Phil’s shoulder to stare at him. “It’s a children’s film, bub, of course it’s not going to happen in the real world,” he sasses.

Phil rolls his eyes at his tone. “Well yeah, but they should keep a little bit of realism! It’s a whole thing! People really do navigate and everything and I think Moana is making it look too easy.”

The smile that creeps onto Dan’s face is just impossible to stop. “Right. You’re absolutely right.” Phil grins triumphantly. “And you’re also distracting me from this extremely good film, so shut up.”

Phil grumbles when Dan turns away, situating himself so he can press his back against Phil’s chest. Even with his huff, Phil doesn’t complain. “Here, move a bit,” he pushes gently against Dan’s back, forcing Dan to sit up reluctantly. Glancing behind himself, Dan watches as Phil pulls his legs onto the sofa, stretching one out on either side of Dan’s body. “Okay, c’mere.”

Dan raises an eyebrow. “You want me to sit there?” He asks, gesturing to the space between Phil’s legs. He can already feel his cheeks heating up at the idea, but suddenly he’s desperate for it, for this closeness to the one person he loves most in the world.

“Yeah, come here it’ll be comfy,” Phil presses, holding his arms out wide.

His heart racing, Dan shrugs and moves closer, settling in between Phil’s legs just as he’d asked. It is comfy, and immediately Phil’s arms come up to wrap around his chest, trapping Dan’s arms at the biceps. “Phil,” Dan whines softly. “I can’t move.”

“Well why are you trying to? We’re having premium cuddles here,” Phil replies, sounding offended.

Dan thinks about it for a moment and promptly decides that even though they’re a little closer than normal, he doesn’t actually mind it, and in fact is finding it to be quite pleasant. He tilts his head back to rest on Phil’s shoulder, his eyes moving over the room to take stock of each of the kids. Amelia is laying on a blanket in the floor, her chin propped in her hands as she stares up at the screen. Jaiden is laying on the other sofa, but from here Dan can’t actually tell if he’s asleep or not. Levi, playing on his phone, is sitting on the armchair, and when Dan glances over at him, his gaze flickers up to meet Dan’s. He immediately looks embarrassed and drops his gaze, and Dan shifts uncomfortably. He’s about to say something to him when he feels Phil squeeze his side gently.

“Dan,” Phil says suddenly.

“Hm?” He asks, turning his head to look at him.

“Stop moving,” he mumbles, and maybe it’s the glow of the television, but Dan thinks he looks embarrassed.

It takes Dan a moment, but as soon as he realizes that in their position his shifting is causing Phil a bit of a... problem, he giggles. “Sorry,” he whispers when Phil shoots a glare at him.

“Shut up,” Phil whines.

“Shh, sorry, sorry, I’ll stop,” Dan apologizes with a grin. On a whim, he tilts his head, leaning up and pressing a kiss to Phil’s jaw.

It’s new, he notes. He normally doesn’t do that when they steal those moments of connection, he normally keeps his kisses to Phil’s cheek, or his forehead, or even his hair. But kissing his jaw feels different and the intimacy is different, and he’s not quite sure if that’s a good thing or not.

Phil’s eyes are darker in the room, with the television the only source of light, but Dan can tell that he feels the difference too. Unable to handle his steady gaze, Dan turns back to the movie. His eyes dart over the children once more, and again he catches Levi staring at him. This time, he decides to call him out.

“How’s the new phone working, Levi?”

Levi flinches, just barely, and Dan frowns deeply. “It’s, uh, it’s fine.”

“Yeah? Great.” Dan hesitates a bit before speaking again. “Did you get everything downloaded that you wanted to?”

“Um... yeah, I guess so.” Levi fiddles with the phone, clearly uncomfortable.

“Games? Music?” Dan presses. He knew it was a little obnoxious of him, but he remembers being a teenager. He remembered feeling awkward asking his parents for a phone, and then feeling even more awkward when he tried to download music onto it only to find that everything came with a price.

“Uh, haven’t figured out the music thing yet,” Levi says eventually, his hand coming up to scratch at the back of his neck.

“You can make an Apple Music account, Levi,” Phil says from over Dan’s shoulder. The sound of his voice surprises him and he jumps a little. Phil rests a settling hand on Dan’s stomach at that, gently rubbing circles, almost as if he doesn’t realize he’s doing it. “We’ll pay for it but go ahead and set one up.”

“Oh, um, that’s okay, I-“ he begins.

“Levi, it’s fine. Phil’s a producer at the BBC, he’s got all sorts of money,” Dan grins as he says this, and yelps when he feels Phil tug gently on a curl in reprimand.

“It’s coming out of the shared bank account, so I reckon you’ve got all sorts of money too, love.” Phil interjects, sounding quite pleased with himself.

Dan still wasn’t completely used to the idea that they shared a bank account now, just as much as they shared a life. It was something he was adjusting to, but as of right now the reminder still made him feel strange. “Yeah, well,” he mumbles. “Your mum.”

Phil presses a kiss to a spot just below his ear then, causing Dan to shiver. “Your mum,” he mocks.

“Hey,” Dan lets out a quiet protest. “You have to be nice to me, I’m the baby.”

“You’re not a baby, even if you act like it,” Phil rolls his eyes.

“I am,” Dan replies, nodding seriously as he turns to look at Phil. “I’m the youngest of the two of us, so you have to be nice to me.”

“I don’t like that rule,” Phil says, his eyes glittering in the light from the screen.

Dan shrugs and eventually tears his own eyes away, settling back against Phil’s chest. “Tough shit,” he mumbles, hoping the children don’t overhear.

He’s not expecting it, so when Phil bites his earlobe gently in reprimand, Dan yelps loudly. The kids all turn to look at him questioningly, and he shrugs sheepishly. “Sorry. Thought I saw a... spider.”

The twins go right back to the movie, more than used to Dan’s odd behavior as of now, but Levi gives him a lingering look.

Phil laughs softly. “That was cute,” he whispers into Dan’s ear.

Dan unsubtly digs his elbow into the fleshy bit of Phil’s hip, causing the older man to hiss in pain. “Was not,” he mumbles back.

Phil doesn’t reply, but Dan feels lips pressing to his neck only a second later. He can’t stop the gasp that falls from his lips. This apparently only urges Phil on, as he takes it a step further, kissing down his throat slowly. Dan’s hand comes up to grip Phil’s forearm, his mind and body in a war of whether or not he should stop him. “Phil,” he whispers hoarsely. They don’t do this. This isn’t something they allow themselves. Best friends is one thing, and putting on a show for the purpose of their fake relationship was one thing as well, but doing this in the privacy of their home, when the only people who could see is their kids- well it’s something they don’t do.

“Is this okay?” Phil whispers.

Dan swallows hard, his heart pounding erratically. “We shouldn’t- I don’t-fuck.”

“Shh, little ears,” Phil reminds him subtly.

Again, Dan’s gaze darts around the room, but luckily none of the kids are looking at them. None of them see the way Phil leans in again, pressing another soft kiss to Dan’s neck. “Phil, stop,” Dan breathes, unable to handle himself.

“Oh, um... sorry. I just- I thought- nevermind.” Phil stumbles over his words, and Dan feels his throat itch with the desire to appease him, but he swallows it down. “I’m sorry,” he repeats.

Dan slowly strokes his thumb across Phil’s forearm, feeling almost guilty for telling him to stop. But he was confused, his heart was racing, and he was struggling to find a way to think about this in platonic terms. “It’s okay. It... it felt nice.”

“Yeah?” Phil asks timidly. “So why...?” He trails off, but it’s clearly an open-ended question, easy for Dan to fill in the blanks.

Tilting his head to make absolutely sure the kids can’t hear his voice over the sound of the television, he whispers, “I- we don’t do that. And... no one is watching right now, so maybe we... shouldn’t.”

“Oh.” Phil sounds hurt. “Okay then.” His voice is flat, and Dan cringes at the sound of it.

“Phil-“

“I get it,” he says, a little louder than they’d been speaking.

“I’m sorry, I just-“

“Drop it, please?” Phil’s voice is wavering now, and when Dan turns to look at him, his eyes are pleading.

“Okay...” Dan says slowly. He turns back to the film, trying to ignore the weight of his heart and the loosening of Phil’s grip.

~~~

That night, once the kids have all gone to bed, Dan crawls into bed beside Phil with a yawn. “I’m exhausted,” he announces, sighing when his head comes into contact with the pillow.

“I’m sorry,” Phil whispers.

Dan lifts his head to squint at his best friend. “Huh?”

“For earlier. I shouldn’t have done that. I don’t- I really don’t know why I did it, I just-“

“Are you talking about the neck thing?” Dan asks slowly, trying to decide how to handle this. Phil is staring straight up at the ceiling, unwilling to meet Dan’s gaze, which means he’s either embarrassed or just worried that Dan’s mad at him.

“Yes. I’m so sorry, Dan. There’s... we have boundaries, and I just-“

“Phil,” Dan interrupts him.

“I don’t know what I was thinking! I-“

“Phil,” Dan repeats, patiently.

“I- what?” Phil tilts his head on the pillow to give Dan a perturbed look.

Dan smiles. “It’s fine. Okay? Everything is alright. I didn’t mind. I just- it caught me off guard, that’s all.”

“You didn’t mind,” Phil says slowly, disbelief coloring his tone.

Shrugging, Dan tries not to let his embarrassment show at that admission. “I mean, not really. It felt nice, so...”

“Right,” Phil says, clearing his throat and staring back at the ceiling, a contemplative look on his face.

Dan wants to say something, wants to suggest something a little stupid as far as his already strained heart is concerned, but it won’t leave his mouth. It sits there, clawing at his throat and just begging to be released into the air between them. “I-“ he starts, stuttering to a stop as he tries futilely to get his thoughts together.

“Hm?” Phil hums beside him, turning his head to study Dan.

Swallowing, Dan stares resolutely up at the ceiling as he speaks. “If you want to do, you know... things like that... you can. I don’t... I really don’t mind it.”

“What?” Phil asks, his tone hard to decipher from how quiet his voice has fallen.

“Like... the neck kissing thing. If that’s something that you think might make the whole fake fiancé thing more believable, or if you just, I dunno, if you’re, um, well, if for some reason you feel the need to-“

“Stop, please,” Phil suddenly interrupts, his voice hard.

“Oh, sorry- what?”

“Stop. I don’t- I’m not like, frustrated, or something. I don’t need you to... just like, say that I can do that sort of thing just to make myself feel better.” His voice is bitter, and Dan’s stomach sinks with nerves as he realizes that he’s said the wrong thing this time.

“Oh... I... Okay.”

Phil is silent for a long time and when he finally speaks, his voice has taken on a softer tone. “I shouldn’t have done it, Dan. I’m sorry. But you’re right, we aren’t...” he clears his throat then. “We aren’t actually together, and it was inappropriate for me to touch you like that without asking first.”

Dan hates himself for the way his eyes well up with tears as he listens to Phil speak. He hates that he wishes he could correct Phil, wishes there was a false statement to correct. But there’s not, and Phil’s right- they aren’t actually together, and to act like they are in private is a dangerous game.

“Okay,” Dan whispers, his voice wet.

Phil sighs exasperatedly, so Dan isn’t expecting it when he rolls over, throwing an arm around his waist and burying his nose into Dan’s shoulder. “I...” he trails off, closing his eyes tightly. “I’m sorry, bear.”

Dan swallows hard. “Don’t be.” He closes his eyes against the wetness there, trying to blink it away. “We’re okay, yeah?”

There’s a long moment of silence, and Dan’s gut swirls with anxiety the longer it’s uninterrupted. “Yeah,” Phil finally whispers. “We’re okay.”

~~~

By the next morning, the events of the previous night are well behind them. Perhaps that’s actually just due to the lack of desire to talk it out and figure out exactly what happened there, but Dan will take the silence on the subject as a good thing. He expects they’ll have a nice lie-in, since he wakes up with Phil still curled around him. Dan’s shameless in the way he snuggles back into him, ready to take advantage of this extra snuggle time.

The twins have other ideas, however, waking them up about half an hour later begging for breakfast. They start their day after that, albeit reluctantly on Dan’s part. After a late breakfast and some lounging around watching TV, it’s almost time for Levi to go to his group therapy.

Dan leaves the twins at home with Phil to drive Levi to the address Sophie had given him. In the car, he can tell Levi is unsettled but obviously unwilling to acknowledge his own fear of attending the session. The car ride over is mostly silent, Levi avoiding all of Dan’s attempts at conversation until they’ve pulled up outside the building.

“Here we are,” Dan announces, forcing a cheery smile as he looks over at the teenager. Levi stares over at the building, his hand curling around the door handle, knuckles white. “You alright?” Dan questions gently, trying not to press him.

Levi glances over. He frowns. “Do I have to go?”

It’s not really what Dan expected him to stay, but he tries to handle his answer in a parenting way. “You do, unfortunately,” He grimaces as he says it. “You might get us both in trouble if you don’t go.”

“Right,” Levi says. He clears his throat then, glancing between the building and Dan. “Are you…”

“Do you want me to come inside with you?” Dan asks him, keeping his tone neutral so that Levi doesn’t feel swayed either way.

After a moment, Levi shakes his head. “No, it’s fine. But… You’ll be here to pick me up after, right?”

Dan frowns. He hates that Levi even feels the need to ask that. “Yes, of course, Levi. It’s over at two, right?”

Levi nods. “Yeah.”

“Alright. I’ll be waiting right here, yeah?”

“Okay. Erm… See you, then.”

“Bye, Levi. Text me if you need anything.” Dan waits until Levi’s walked all the way up to the door before he starts to leave, glancing back just to make sure he’s really gone inside and then pulling out of the parking lot.

He’s got some time to kill, an hour, actually, so he decides to use that time to pick up a few necessities. He texts Phil to ask if they need anything other than milk and new lightbulbs, and Phil asks him to pick up some more pigeon food, per Jaiden’s request. Dan smiles and rolls his eyes at the text but replies with an affirmative before heading to the shops.

As he’s walking the aisles, his phone begins ringing in his pocket. He sends an apologetic glance to the older lady who startles at the sound, quickly moving to dig it out before it can disturb anyone else. He’s expecting Phil’s name, so when he sees “Mum” instead, he’s a little confused.

“Hi?” he answers, a little confused.

“That’s one way to greet your only mother,” she muses, clearly teasing.

Dan rolls his eyes. “Hello, mum. How are you? How’s Colin?”

“You do realize you ask after the dog more than your own flesh and blood, Daniel.”

It’s not news to him, but he still pretends to be shocked. “I just want to know how the most important family member is doing, Mum. I can’t have a dog of my own yet, so he’s the next best thing.”

“I bet the kids would love a dog.” There’s a hint of challenge in her voice, as if by answering this Dan might be admitting to something wrong.

He takes it. “Oh, they’d be thrilled. Phil’s got Mia infatuated with corgis,” he says smoothly, waiting for her biting response.

They hadn’t spoken much since he told her that they had a placement. He’d phoned her a few times, obviously, but he hadn’t divulged much about the kids other than their names and hints of anecdotes that he’d love to share if she was more receptive to the idea of hearing them. So far, she’d only made the vaguest of comments about his new life, but she’d been obnoxiously cryptic about the reasons that she felt this fake relationship with Phil was a bad idea.

He hated that he was starting to understand her point.

“How are they?” His mum surprises him by asking. “You hardly ever tell me anything about them, you know.”

Dan looks down at the basket in his hand, only containing Phil’s shampoo he remembered him complaining was almost empty the other morning. “Er- well, I didn’t think you really wanted to know anything about them.” He feels silly even saying it, but it’s the truth.

“Dan, honey, of course I want to know about them. They’re the biggest part of your life right now, and obviously I want to know about that.” She laughs then, sounding tired. “I just assumed you didn’t want me knowing anything.”

And that definitely is typical of them, to get their wires crossed like this. “No, mum, of course not. I… Yeah, I want you to know things about them. Um… Actually, we’re fostering their older brother now, too.”

“Oh, blimey. There’s more of them?” She sounds surprised, as if people aren’t allowed to have more than two children. That makes Dan roll his eyes.

“Yes, mum, but as far as we know, it’s just the three of them. Levi was… er, well, he was in a group home. But he lives with us now, too.”

There’s a brief silence, stretching out long enough that Dan pulls the phone away to make sure the call hasn’t disconnected. Then, he hears his mother’s voice, quiet and soft. “You’re doing an incredible thing for those children, Daniel. Really.”

And he’s not sure how to respond to such honesty from her, so it takes him a moment to respond. He glances down, clearing his throat as he tries to gather his thoughts. “Oh. Well, um, thank you, I guess.”

His mum laughs. “You never were one for gracefully accepting a compliment, were you?”

He scoffs, planning to argue, but stops. It’s not really a lie, after all. He sighs. “Okay, yeah, I guess you’re right about that.”

“I know I am. Now are you going to tell me anything about the children or shall I call Phil?” She sounds amused, and he can almost picture her quirking an eyebrow as she waits for his response.

With a laugh, he begins telling her about how sweet the kids are, talking about how much Jaiden reminds him of Phil and how Amelia is their little princess. He’s a little quieter about Levi, telling his mum that he doesn’t know enough about him to say much yet. She seems to understand but hums along and laughs at all the right spots in his stories about the twins, and it’s strange how it feels like she’s really listening to him for once. He’s not used to that feeling, but his heart is undeniably full by the end of their call.

He checks the time and sees it’s almost time to go pick Levi up, so he finishes his shopping and checks out, depositing the bags into the backseat before heading back to the group meeting. It’s taking place in a community center not far from their flat, which is a relief to Dan, who was really not looking forward to the long drive back to the foster home every Saturday. Luckily, they outsource the group therapy sessions after the children had been moved out of group homes, and it just so happened that they lived pretty close to the meeting place.

Dan’s sat in the car waiting for Levi, tapping a rhythm against the steering wheel absently while he watches the door. Eventually, it opens, and a few people begin walking out, all around the same age as Levi. Dan waits, watching the kids closely until he spots Levi’s familiar dark hair. He watches as he walks down the steps talking to a girl about his age, and it takes Dan a moment to realize why she looks familiar.

Levi looks around, nodding to Dan when he sees his car. Dan watches as he turns back to Charlotte, probably bidding her goodbye. Charlotte is smiling kindly at him, and she waves cheerfully before turning to leave. Dan doesn’t miss the way Levi stares after her for a moment, a smile twitching at his lips before he shoves his hands into his pockets and makes his way over to the car.

He climbs in and glances at Dan, tugging at his seatbelt. “What?” Levi mutters.

“Hm?” Dan hums, trying to hide his smile.

“You’ve got like, this weird look on your face,” Levi explains, gesturing at Dan vaguely.

Dan shrugs, turning the steering wheel to get back onto the road. “No reason. How was it?”

“Fine,” Levi mumbles.

“Hm. Make any friends?” He asks, trying to keep the implication out of his voice. He knows he’s failed when he glances at Levi and sees a flush on his cheeks.

“That’s- are you, like, making fun of me?” Levi demands, sounding annoyed.

Dan frowns. “What? No, Levi. Absolutely not.” He shakes his head to punctuate his words. “Of course, I’m not. I was really just asking because, er…” He debates what he should tell him about Charlotte. He figures they’ve probably realized they go to the same school, so he blurts it out. “I know Charlotte, is all, so I was just wondering if you and her hit it off.”

“Oh,” Levi says slowly. “I mean, yeah, I guess. She’s nice.”

“She’s a lovely girl,” Dan agrees. “Smart, too, does really well in her classes.”

“Hm,” Levi says, clearly uninterested in continuing this conversation.

Dan completely understands that, but he can’t help but take the piss, just a little. “So…” Levi sends him a look. Dan bites his lip to keep from laughing. “Did you get her number?”

Levi stares at him. Dan glances at him when he slows down for a stop sign. Levi clears his throat and looks out the window. “I’m not talking about this with you.” Even with the words being a little harsh, Dan can hear the amusement in his voice.

“Right, sorry.” Dan replies, nodding along in a responsible sort of way. After a moment, he peeks over at him again, holding back a laugh as he asks, “So… is that a yes?”

Levi groans dramatically, following it with a quiet laugh. Dan can’t help but join in. “You’re kinda nosy,” Levi observes, not unkindly.

Dan shrugs at this. “Maybe. But you’re avoiding answering the question, and that in itself speaks volumes.” This seems to startle Levi, but before he can make any sort of comment, Dan pulls the car into the parking garage of the apartment. “Home sweet home!”

~~~

After the kids have gone to bed that night, Dan finds himself in his room with Phil, neither of them quite ready for sleep yet. Phil is sat reading a book with his glasses sliding down his nose every so often, and Dan is laid beside him, his cheek resting against Phil’s thigh as he prattles on about his day quietly.

“I just think it’s nice, you know,” He rambles on a yawn.

“Mhm,” is Phil’s reply.

Dan sighs, vaguely annoyed at Phil’s seeming lack of interest. “Are you even listening to me?” he demands, twisting to gaze up at Phil.

Phil rolls his eyes but meets Dan’s gaze. “Yes, bear, I’m listening. You said it’s nice that Levi and Charlotte are friends. You’ve said it about three times now,” he says gently, his lips quirking up in an amused smile.

His face a little warmer now, Dan glances away. “Oh. Sorry.”

There’s a laugh from above Dan and he hears the sound of Phil placing his book on his nightstand, followed by the feeling of a hand carding through his hair. “Time for sleep?” Phil asks, his voice fond.

Dan nods, closing his eyes and nuzzling into Phil’s hand as he scratches lightly across Dan’s scalp. “Yeah,” he sighs. “Sorry I ramble so much about stupid stuff. I’ll learn when to shut up eventually.”

Phil gently tugs on a curl in reprimand. “Don’t say that. I love listening to you talk, and it doesn’t bother me if you ramble. And our kids are not stupid stuff, sir.”

Dan can’t help the grin that stretches across his lips at that last part. “That’s disgustingly sappy. I’m gonna puke.”

“Ew, do it on the floor, not the bed. I’m not cleaning up your sick,” Phil teases.

When Dan cracks an eye open, Phil’s nose is crinkled adorably and Dan laughs. He reaches up and boops him gently on that crooked nose, making Phil go a little cross-eyed as he follows Dan��s finger. “There’s the Phil I know,” he jokes. “I thought maybe you were an imposter, being all sweet.”

Phil smiles down at him, his thumb tracing along Dan’s eyebrows. “I’m always sweet,” he protests mildly.

Dan giggles. “Does that mean I’m sour?”

Rolling his eyes, Phil cups Dan’s cheek with one hand, the other moving from his eyebrows back into his curls. “Probably.”

“You know, if you were milk, I think you’d be sour milk,” Dan observes, his brain so short on sleep that it’s rattling things off as if he’s got no filter. Which, sometimes, he guesses, he really doesn’t.

“You think?” Phil asks, clearly holding back a laugh.

“Yeah.” Dan nods. “I think cause you’re so pale you’re almost green sometimes. You’d be spoiled milk. Or cheese.” He sort of cackles after he’s said it, the imagery striking him as funny now that it’s out there.

“I think you’re sleepy,” Phil says softly, his thumb stroking along Dan’s cheekbones.

Dan smiles, turning his face to nuzzle against the palm of Phil’s hand. “I am. Cuddle?”

Phil smiles right back, leaning away to turn the lamp off, casting the room in darkness. The mattress shifts as he lays down, and Dan patiently waits for him to get comfortable before they sort out their cuddling position. “Big spoon or little, baby?”

“Little,” Dan says after a moment of consideration. He turns over onto his side and presses himself back, searching for Phil’s hand to hold after he’s wrapped his arm around Dan’s waist. “Night, Philly,” he sighs contently.

There’s a kiss pressed to the back of his neck then. “Goodnight, sweetheart.”

The room is silent for several moments, and Dan can feel himself drifting off to sleep. Something is mumbled against his skin, but he’s already too far gone, and it drifts away.

#phan #phanfiction #foster parent au #foster parent #bbc producer!phil #school counselor!dan #parent!au #parent!phan #friends to lovers #best friends #bed sharing #fake relationship #fluff #light angst #comfort #hurt #family struggles #group home #neck kissing

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