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sugaxela · 4 years

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AN ACCIDENTAL FIC REC LIST

So.. I’m a lurker who reads a lot of fics and I get annoyed when I can’t relocate my fave ones. I started making this list of my faves mostly for myself but then figured I’d share it...

I’m Yoongi biased and gravitate towards angst fics so it’s mostly that but there’s fics for every member tossed in here. Some of these are pretty popular so you might have seen a few.

Also, I realized I need to read more Jin, Jimin, and Hoseok fics so if you have recommendations let me know!

Once again it’s a LOT of angst so I would just like to say... CRYING IS GOOD FOR U.

***

KSJ

Start Anew - @gukyi

Seokjin x Reader. Angst. Summary: it’s been five years since you left your hometown, vowing never to return, but a simple invitation to a christmas party and a yearning to know whether or not you’re truly over the heartbreak you left behind has you wondering if, maybe, the christmas spirit and promise of a new beginning can change your mind.

No Limit - @sailorbellewrites

Seokjin x Reader. Fluff. Summary: you and jungkook don’t even look alike. how was seokjin supposed to know you were off limits?

Lovely Little Mess - @guksheart

Seokjin x Reader. Fluff, smut. Summary: telling seokjin of your pregnancy should not be so daunting, but you hide it as long as you can—at least until you are sitting with him in a bathtub and the secret comes spilling out.

No Parking - @jungshookz

Seokjin x Reader. Fluff. Summary: “to the asswipe who owns this mini cooper - do you know how to read signs? this is a no-parking zone. no. parking. zone. that means you are not allowed to park in this zone. DO NOT park here.” (also I made up the title bc it doesn’t have one)

MYG

Seasons Change - @taetaesbaebaepsae

Yoongi x Reader. Angst. Summary: Min Yoongi and you, through the seasons, break up and come back together. Nobody said love was easy.

I’ll Float Away - @ppersonna

Yoongi x Reader. Angst. Summary: years after the breakup, yoongi, a successful award-winning rapper with an unhealthy addiction, finds your wedding invite on Facebook.

Memory Lane - @hayjeon

Yoongi x Reader. Fluff. Summary: grumpy husband yoongi au aka lots of fluff (mentions of sex)

Do It Again - @kimnjss

Yoongi x Reader. Angst. Summary: months after deciding to end their three year long relationship, a sex tape hits the internet. fans go wild speculating that rap star, min yoongi and aspiring model, yn are the stars. old feelings arise as the couple try to figure out a way out of this.

Cuddles and Kittycats - @dinoyoongi

Yoongi x Reader. Fluff, angst. Summary: After a night of drinking, you go to Yoongi’s dorm for some quality cuddles. Unfortunately, you’ve forgotten that you are currently giving him the silent treatment.

Overstayed Welcome - @kkaep-jjjang

Yoongi x Reader - Fluff, smut. Summary: Y/N decides to get over her crush by getting under someone else. Sounds fool proof right? Wrong.

Ghosted - @bloomsuga

Yoongi x Reader. SM AU. Summary: your new roommate is everything you could ask for: quiet, never makes messes, a killer dry sense of humor... and oh yeah—he’s dead.

Wildest Moments - @joonbird

Yoongi x Reader. Angst. Summary: “Min Yoongi is forbidden territory. And although you both know better, the two of you just can’t seem to stay apart.”

Romance is Dead - @dinoyoongi

Yoongi x Reader. Angst, fluff. Summary: You try to surprise Yoongi with a night full of romance but he manages to ruin all of your plans.

Fools Rush In - @sailorbellewrites

Yoongi x Reader. Drabble series. Summary: min yoongi, music executive and perpetual bachelor, marries a las vegas stripper he’s only known for six months. chaos ensues.

Pretend - @gimmesumsuga

Yoongi x Reader. Angst. Summary: “You know what they say: the best way to get over someone is to get under someone else, right?”

Aquiver - @floralseokjin

Yoongi x Reader. Idol AU. Summary: Yoongi can’t remember the last time he was able to successfully bring himself to the point of orgasm, then Namjoon gives him a business card advertising ‘Healing Hands’, and that’s where he meets you; pretty and innocent looking, who gets paid to provide hand jobs for a living…

Hidden Stars - @jungblue

Yoongi x Reader, Jungkook x Reader. Angst. Summary: It started out simple, but when your feelings start to grow for the idol who isn’t allowed to date, things get complicated.

Talk To Me - @btsrpp

Yoongi x Reader. Fluff, angstyish. No summary. But it involves a silent treatment.

No Title - @jungxk

Yoongi x Widow!Reader. Angst. No summary.

JHS

Hobi’s Girl - @v-hope

Hoseok x Reader. SM Au. Summary: after attending a bts concert and very clearly catching one of the members’ attention, you can’t help but get flooded with hate comments once people find your twitter account. who would’ve thought that would be the reason jung hoseok would find his concert girl, too.

Bloom - @jungxk

Hoseok x Reader. Smut. Summary: you’ve always had a crush on hobi and he’s always handled that gently. what he can’t handle is you now, nine years later.

Blue Side - @minyoongone

Hoseok x Reader. SM AU. Summary: when you get a text from a heartbroken boy who you mistake for your ex

KNJ

Confirm or Deny - @dinoyoongi

Namjoon x Reader. Angst. Summary: You’re a member of the rising group FRNZEE. You’ve been dating Namjoon for years when Dispatch releases an article exposing your relationship. Your company confirms the relationship. Big Hit denies it.

You’ve Got That - @mikrksmos

Namjoon x Reader. Angst. Summary: After making a life-changing decision for your career, you’re unsure of how exactly to bring it up to your boyfriend after your relationship and communication has not really been in sync. Namjoon is ready to take this relationship to the next stage, and he is sure that what he needs to ask you will be the solution to all the problems you have been having. Both know this next move is the right idea, but are unaware of how parallel those ideas really are.

Duck and Cover - @versigny

Namjoon x Reader. Fluff. Summary: There were two things you never dreamed would become your biggest worries with your new job: Kim Namjoon, and that god damn camera.

Inked - @1997jk

Namjoon x Reader. heavy angst, slow burn, soulmate au. (no summary).

Try Me - @jjkfire

Namjoon x Reader. Fluff. Summary: You wanted nothing more than to leave behind your old self when you graduated from high school and moved on to college to play rugby but when you see your high school classmate, resident fuckboy and captain, Kim Namjoon, at the rugby department orientation, you feel like everything might fall apart.

Stitches - @glassbangtan

Namjoon x Reader. Angst. Summary: People always said getting married at a young age was a mistake - could they have been right?

All In - @kookiesjoonies

Namjoon x Reader. SM AU. Summary: you aren’t usually one to give out your number to strangers (let alone customers), but after you start talking to Namjoon and getting to know him, you decide that there’s no way you’re going to let him leave without it. however, he fails to mention that he’s one of the most popular rappers in South Korea. and it just so happens that one of your best friends ends up with an extra ticket to one of his shows.

PJM

Come Home to Me Darling - @roses-ruby

Jimin x Reader. Angst. Summary: Jimin cheats and you try to make him stay. But whatever you do, it’s never enough.

Attention and Care - @your-daily-biaswrecking

Jimin x Reader. Fluff, angstish. Summary: Jimin must be the only person in the world who complains about his girlfriend not complaining... When Amy doesn't pester him to come home early (like the rest of the members) he starts thinking she might not care for him as much.

Daisies - @silverlightqueen

Jimin x Reader. SM AU. Summary: You’ve had a long-running feud with fellow idol Park Jimin, saving all the anger and bitterness for the yearly award shows and shooting each other a few dirty looks, not bowing when you walk past each other, or just generally throwing shade. After one particularly obvious encounter between the two of you, the fans start to notice, just in time for The Rose Tour!

Doubt - @heartkook

Jimin x Reader. Fluff, angst. Summary: Jimin gets jealous of your relationship with Jungkook, and needs reassuring that he’s the only one you love.

KTH

Of Lace and Lust - @hobidreams

Taehyung x Reader. Smut. Summary: friendship rule number one: don’t imagine how amazing your best friend’s cock would feel inside you. except that’s all you can think about after accidentally discovering taehyung’s kink for panties. specifically, the lacy ones you’re so fond of wearing.

Queen Cobra - @fantasybangtan

Taehyung x Reader. Gang AU. Summary: when your boss offers the chance to take down the nation’s most lucrative gang from the inside out, you know you’ll do it no matter what the cost… even if that means entering an arranged marriage with the kingpin himself.

See You - @gimmesumsuga

Taehyung x Reader. Smut. Summary: The one where Taehyung notices you at a concert, and can't help but want to see you again.

Who Cares? - @floralseokjin

Taehyung x OC. Angst. Summary: what happens when Taehyung falls for someone who’s already taken? Can he control his feelings or will they take over and render him powerless? In the end is it all her fault or his…?

Color of Your Shirt - @firebettercallnct

Taehyung x Reader. SM AU. Summary: when you're close to your soulmate your shirt changes to their favorite color. yn hates taehyung's favorite color.

JJK

Comfort Inn Ending - @joonbird

Jungkook x Reader. Angst. Summary: “It was you who Jungkook gave his heart to- that is, until the day you broke it. And it is you now, hoping that some faultlines can be repaired, and that some broken hearts can be put back together again.”

After I Left You - @latetaektalk

Jungkook x Reader. Angst. Summary: “when you decided to meet up with taehyung for dinner to reconnect, you didn’t expect to see jungkook, your ex, on a date with his current girlfriend and not to mention, end up fake dating taehyung.”

Rattled - @gukslut

Jungkook x Reader. Genre: Single dad AU, Angst, Healing, E2L, F2L, Smut. (no summary)

Risk It - @kookiesjoonies

Jungkook x Reader. Sm Au. Summary: a drunken text ends with you wrapped up in the arms of your ex-boyfriend. aka the man that you dumped two years prior, after he refused to marry you. suddenly, all of the feelings that you’d seemingly had buried come rushing back up to the surface, and you’re not sure how long you can ignore them.

Damn the Delivery Boy - @deerguk

Jungkook x Reader. Fluff. Summary: Jeon Jeongguk is a computer science major working as a pizza delivery boy, and you are an uninspired published author who has just started an art degree. When you realise that the delivery boy is your old high school crush, he keeps coming back, but with more to offer than just puff pastry and vegetarian supreme. Though little did he know that he would end up giving you something much more that flips both of your worlds completely upside down in the form of two blue lines and nine months.

One Thing Right - @hobios

Jungkook x Reader. Angst, fluff. Summary: desperate to get your ailing mother into the best care possible, you ask your childhood friend turned enemy to marry you for his health insurance benefits. the only problem is it’s illegal. and he’s the sheriff. and you swore to hate him since the day he broke your best friend’s heart.

Hidden Stars - @jungblue

Jungkook x Reader, Yoongi x Reader. Angst. Summary: It started out simple, but when your feelings start to grow for the idol who isn’t allowed to date, things get complicated.

Tamped - @chimoona

Jungkook x Reader. Smut, fluff. Summary: You and your business partner/best friend Jin have struggled to find good help to run your coffee shop. Employee after employee, it just never worked out. However, Jungkook is determined to impress and deliver. He wants this more than ever, and it always feels good to want something. To need, well, that’s even better.

Strawberry Kisses - @kimnjss

Jungkook x Reader. SM AU. Summary: an online dating app pairs him with the perfect girl. the two quickly start falling for each other and when things are getting good, he finds out she’s his best friend’s little sister.

Crush - @jungxk

Jungkook x Reader. Fluff, light angst. No summary, amnesiac jk.

Look Alive - @jamaisjoons

Jungkook x Reader. Angst. Summary: a year after you and jungkook break up, the two of you meet at your brother’s party.

***

I got a lot of these from some fic rec master lists.

Here’s a namjoon angst master list by @bts-ficrecs

Also this bts fic rec list by @platinumjeon

An infidelity list by @hellreads

Fic-Recs by @joonapeach

Top fics compilation by @xjoonchildx

There’s more but I’ll add those when I find them, and I’ll either update this list or make a new one when I have enough new fics.

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imaeraser · 3 years

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Playing With Foxfire Kin’emon x Reader (Modern AU) Ch 1

TW: power imbalance, cheating, and age gap

(2.1k words)

Kin’emon x reader x slight Sanji

Summary: You have a summer internship at the Kozuki company, and have to stay at Kin’emon’s home. You try to limit your attraction to the married man, but the flame of passion burns bright. And playing with fire can only lead to one thing— getting burnt.

AN: I originally did this for myself and my sister as a joke— since there is little to no fan fiction for Kin’emon— but decided to post it. Hopefully you enjoy and cringe at some parts.

I fumbled my way through the airport. The musk of others smudged onto my shoulders while I bumped down the path as if I were in a pinball machine. The sound of the wheels of my suitcase grounding me on Earth before all of my thoughts flew away.

I raised my hand to shade my eyes as I stepped out into the open, while my foot jutted back from the force of the wind. I squinted down the road, but there was not an awaiting person in sight.

I sighed, and sat down on a sun-warmed bench near a smoking man. As I grabbed the side rest, the tacky feeling of day-old gum made my arm jump in revulsion.

“Ew, that’s so nasty,” I shook my arm as if the action would make the gum magically disappear, and then reluctantly started to pull it off with two fingers.

“Here let me help you,” another set of arms entered my vision. The stranger pulled out a handkerchief and scraped any residue off of my arm jacket.

“Thank you so much, you’re a lifesaver,” I turned to him, and stopped mid-thought.

His eye was staring at me intently, but I could only appear to focus on his swirly eyebrow— his singular swirly eyebrow.

“I think being a life saver is a bit of an over-statement, but I’ll take it.” He paused and tilted his head, yet the hair that covered one of his eyes did not budge. “Is there something wrong?”

I paused, “No, it’s nothing. I’m just a bit air-headed sometimes.” I flushed as I rubbed the back on my neck.

“Well, I think air-heads are cute,” he held out his hand, “Sanji.”

“Y/N,” I said as I replied with a handshake.

Once we retracted our arms he leaned over to his side, and proceeded to fill the atmosphere with the rottenly-sweet scent of tobacco. After a large puff, he released a light cloud into the air. The smoke got thinner and lighter as it floated up and died in the sky.

“What brings you here Y/N?” Sanji held out an unused cigarette and raised an eyebrow.

“I have an internship this summer,” I said as I shook my head and pushed the offering away.

“Let me guess...” he paused, “ Kozuki?”

“Yep,” I nodded. I threw another glance at the street, and the emptiness made my foot begin to tap the floor. “I think there was a guy that was supposed to pick me up.” I looked down at my phone- 4:57- a few more hours and I would no longer feel safe walking the streets alone.

“If you want, I can drive you. Just give me the address and we’ll be on our way,” Sanji offered a handsome smile.

My eyes quickly darted to his figure. He was tall and slender, but most of his form was hidden under a finely made suit. He shifted in his seat awaiting my answer, and the movement drew my attention to his abnormally built leg muscles. His demeanor was goofy, but I had only known him for a span of a few minutes.

As much as I wanted to say yes, there were far too many episodes of true-crime documentaries watched for me to allow this stranger to drive me home.

“No, I should be okay. I think I’ll wait a bit longer, and if he doesn’t show up I’ll call an Uber or something,” I said as I watched him lean back onto his seat.

“Well, I’ll wait until you’re out of here safely. I can’t leave a lovely lady like yourself all alone,” Sanji smirked as he crossed his ankles.

“Are you implying that I am incapable of handling myself?” I raised an eyebrow in playful contention. He raised his hands as if to calm my rage.

“Of course not, but it’s better to be safe than sorry,” he said, as I leaned back into the bench.

Time quickly passed, and before either of us knew it we were watching the sky’s rolling clouds pull back and reveal an assortment of summer-time colors. The falling sun lit up Sanji’s flaxseed hair—spinning each strand into a gold thread. Perhaps it was a mistake to decline his proposal.

“Don’t you have somewhere to be?” I said, glancing back at my phone.

“I’m meant to be wherever you are, mademoiselle,” he placed a hand on his chest.

I picked at my nails, and rolled a strand of my hair between my fingers, “Stop joking, you could do way better than me.” He gently clasped my hands.

“You’re selling yourself short. From the time I have spent with you I can tell that you really are gorgeous,” he looked me dead in the eye. The intensity and suddenness of his icy-blue gaze made me look away.

“I’ll take the compliment,” I said, before turning my eyes to the side. To my surprise I saw a man holding a sign with my name on it. “It’s about time,” I shook my head as I looked back over to Sanji. “Thanks for keeping me company, but the dude finally showed up. I have to get going.” I stood up, my knees clicking from being immobile for too long.

After waving goodbye, I dragged my suitcase across the concrete to greet the man. The closer I walked to him, the taller his looming figure became. As we both stopped our pace, my eyes widened in distaste as I looked at him.

His top-knot bobbed as he tilted his head, which provided a stark contrast to his worn out graphic tee that was half-way tucked into a pair of cargo shorts. He took a step towards me as he outstretched his hand, and I heard a resounding wooden thunk. My eyes trailed down to reveal a set of wooden clogs and knee-high socks.

“I am deeply sorry for being late, I was just a bit busy.” He rubbed his neck with his other hand, which revealed a raspberry colored hickey. I bit the inside of my cheek, as I looked to the side in disbelief— trying not to stare at anything in particular. “Oh, you must be looking at my car. It is an antique—”

“Y/N,” I hurriedly shook his hand. “I believe I am to stay at your house during the entirety of my internship at Kozuki?”

His heavily lined eyes blinked a few times before he opened his mouth, “You are correct. I am Kin’emon. My wife and I will be hosting you for the few months you are to be staying.” There was a glint of light that flashed as he moved his hand—which was seen with a golden band around his ring finger.

“Thank you very much for generously allowing me to stay in your home,” we began to walk to his car. “Oh I forgot, the email asked the interns to check the id of the person who is picking us up.” I paused before placing my hand on the sleek metal of the door handle.

“Yes, thank you for reminding me,” he slipped his black leather wallet out of his pocket and fished for his id. Once he retrieved the card, he placed his driver’s license into my hand.

I pulled out my phone, to look at the email telling us about our host. After comparing the information, I handed Kin’emon his drivers license back. “Okay, let’s go.” I said as I slid onto the creme colored leather of the backseat.

My fist supported my head as I watched the scenery meld together through the window. The sky quickly turned darker. My breath formed a little patch of condensation— due to the late hour and dropping temperatures.

The car ride was quiet, with the exception of some traditional Japanese instrumentals. But before either of us would try and fill the silence with awkward questioning, we arrived at his house.

I stepped out of the car, and heard the sound of the trunk opening as well as plastic wheels hitting the ground. While handing me my suitcase handle, his calloused hands brushed against mine. I whispered a quiet, thank you, before following him up to his home.

He opened the frosted glass door, which revealed a quaint home who’s floor was covered in what I perceived as bamboo mats. We both entered the house, and the scent of fried bread crumbs as well as curry swirled around us. I caught myself nearly drooling down my chin.

The sound of pots, pans, and utensils cluttering stopped as a woman in an apron stepped out of the kitchen. “Welcome home dear,” she said before turning to me. “You must be the intern. My name is O-tsuru, it is a pleasure to meet your acquaintance.” She dusted her flour covered hands on her jeans before offering me a handshake.

I gave a soft smile as I shook her hand, “I’m Y/N, it’s lovely to meet you as well.” O-tsuru gently grabbed Kin’emon’s hand and led him to the kitchen.

“Food is almost finished, we would be delighted if you decided to eat with us,” her voice echoed from the kitchen.

I looked down at my half eaten sandwich from the airport Subway. The bread was chewy like a warm kneaded eraser, and the vegetables had an almost plastic sheen to them. “I would love to eat whatever smells that delicious,” I peeled off my shoes and set them near the door.

O-tsuru’s head popped out from the kitchen, “Just sit for a bit, and we’ll be out with food in a second.” Following her instructions, I pushed the floor sitting chair out so I could sit on my knees.

There were no legs to the chair, but seeing as the table was so close to the ground it did not present a problem. My eyes scanned the area of the house that was visible. There were sliding doors and paintings with Japanese characters drawn in sumi ink. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see something reflect the light of the overhead fan.

I turned to my side and saw two katana’s on display, both identical in looks. Black lacquered wood, with the image of fire painted down the middle. It looked too gaudy for it to be used as a weapon. As I glanced over the other decorations in the house, I decided to place the swords in the same category.

“Today we are going to be eating Tonkatsu Curry,” O-tusru said, as she clattered plates about to organize the table. I reached out to help her, but she swatted my hands away playfully. “You’re our guest, I can’t put you to work so soon,” she chuckled. I placed my hands back onto my lap, and waited.

Soon enough Kin’emon brought out the food, and the scent of curry wafted over from the pot. There was a plate set down that was full of pork chops covered in fried bread crumbs. O-tsuru set down a glass bowl full of lettuce— you could see droplets of water on the leaves.

“So we have some Tonkatsu here, but if you can’t eat that we also have nato,” O-tsuru sat across from me.

“What’s nato?” I looked at my bowl of rice, and sniffed it.

“It’s fermented beans,” Kin’emon took his seat next to his wife. “And if you’re allergic to anything here just let us know, I’m sure we can find something in the kitchen that suits your needs.”

As we dug in, the flavors exploded in my mouth creating a lovely blend. The dinner was mostly quiet, with the exception of some basic questions to fill up the time.

“I’ll let Kin’emon show you to your room. I have to wash some dishes,” O-tsuru grabbed a few plates as she stood up.

While the sound of water and the clanging of dishes ensued, Kin’emon stood up, and walked over to my luggage. The slight crispy nosies of the mats under my feet amused me.

“So...are the floor mats made out of bamboo?” I said.

“They are made out of rice straw, they’re called Tatami mats,” he walked down the hallway, and placed his hand on the door, and cracked it open slightly. “This is where your room is, you can call either of us if you need anything.”

I watched his silhouette as he turned around to meet back with his wife. Although he dressed like a patchwork dad and samurai, it looked as if he could still be a model for Calvin Klein. As he walked away, his muscles rippled under his skin. His arms were also well defined, but as my eye caught his ring I stopped

#one piece #one piece wano #one piece imagine #sanji x reader #kin’emon #kin’emon x reader #one piece self insert #one piece senario #sanji #sanji one piece #vismoke sanji #foxfire #foxfire kin’emon #one piece x reader #one piece x Y/N

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sugar-and-pearls · 2 years

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Christmas Dinner Party Rush

“Klarion! We’re going to be late!” Black kitten heels clicked across the hardwood floor. Light danced across cat eye glasses as her eyes scanned the room. Empty, like the last five rooms she had been in. Mai sighed and walked to another room. If she had known it was going to be this hard she wouldn’t have agreed to her Aunt Cheryl's invite to a Christmas dinner with the rest of her dad’s side of the family. Her black dress silky dress flowed like water as she walked from room to room. Filled with embroidered patterns of flowers and skulls, a gift from her mother for Samhain.

“Klarion? Come on, Dad is going to be here any minute to pick us up!”

She opened the door to her room only to find Klarion half hanging out from under the bed with Teekl laying on the bottom of it with a fluffy throw blanket. Her red painted lips morphed into a pout.

“Please tell me you aren’t searching my room to see where I’ve hidden the presents?” she begged exasperatedly. Every year Klarion would try and find his present before Christmas. It bugged him to no end the fact that Mai was better at finding hiding spots for the gifts. He almost found them this year already when she left him alone to go shopping with Nico. Now she had them stored away in Chise’s attic, thousands of miles away from where they were. Still she had to let him think they were still here lest he go looking for them elsewhere.

Klarion wriggled his way out from under the bed and stood upright. To Mai’s dismay his clothes were a mess. The previously ironed black suit was crinkled and dust clinging to velvet fabric.

“Come here” Mai pulled him over to her by his tie, making him stand still as she tried to fix his appearance. He pouted and looked away but made no attempt to move away from her. She knew he could see how nervous she was. Perhaps it was part of him being a Lord of Chaos or due to how long they had known each other.

“Why do we have to go? You don’t even like them?”

She fixed his tie. It's paisley pattern moved with his mood, swirling like ink in water making it stand out against the white of the shirt beneath. She thought of her poor dad and his bastard of a father. She thought of her uncle, aunt and cousin who let Thomas act the way he did and she felt a sharp anger rise up in her.

“I don’t like them. But it's Christmas”

She licked the pad of her thumb and whipped a dark smudge mark off his robin egg blue skin.

“ and their family”

Fingers dusted away dust from the inky dark hair. Along with the dirt she dusted away the memories of self self dislike she had for herself. Even though Mai was now finally happy with her inhumanness she still wanted to know about her more normal side of the family.

“And Christmas is a time for family”

She pressed her hands onto his suit and ironed the lines off. It wasn’t perfect but it would do.

“Besides, how am I supposed to be a petty bitch if they can’t see me?” she grinned at him, her gaze rooted on fixing the last few buttons on his coat. Mai looked up only to see Klarion’s grinning face as his spindly blue fingers grasped onto the underside of her jaw and pressed their foreheads to each other. She leaned into him, rubbing her nose together with his.

“Oh! Almost forgot this” she moved away to the drawer and picked up something before throwing it to him. It sailed through the air till it abruptly stopped and gently floated towards Klarion, dropping into his outstretched hand. Without looking he knew what it was. Cufflinks, silver and engraved with the Mannaz rune. Charmed to make him look like a normal human boy. Klarion put them on as his familiar Teekl climbed onto his shoulder. Through the mirror near him he could see the blueness of his skin morph to a chalk white. His eyes became a lighter shade of brown (though they were still too dark to be normal). Mai flashed him a tender smile, rubbing his upper arms and hugging him from behind as he stared at them through the mirror.

A loud “BEEP” interrupted them. That must be John. Quicker than the Flash, Mai grabbed Klarion’s hands and pulled him to the front door. It might not be the perfect dinner to go to but with the right person it could still be an awful lot of fun.

#Klarion Bleak the Witch Boy #Klarion the Witch Boy #Hedone talks #Hedone writes #self ship #self shipping community #self insert community #selfship community #self insert #selfship #fo community #platonic f/o #f/o community

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starlightsaeran · 3 years

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Wildflower

Author’s note: Hello hello! I’m even more exicted to post the second of two pieces created for the @mysme-rbb, alongside the wonderfully talented @pili-art !!! It has been beyond an honour to get to work on both of these pieces, and I’ve had more fun than I can even put into words <3

Summary: Saeran spends his sweet summer days in the only way he knows how; surrounded by all the things that love him as much as he loves them.

Read on AO3: here!

Make sure to check out the beautiful artwork this was inspired by: here! 🌸🌸🌸

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Seconds ago, Saeran had been running through his garden, with bubbles and butterflies and the feeling of bliss chasing after him as he chased down MC and Saeyoung. The bugs that landed on him left little kisses on his glowing skin, and the sun’s rays hugged him close in the warmth of their embrace. The day prior, MC had told him that freckles had begun dotting his skin, and he found it impossible not to continuously recall the ghost of her lips as they had traced the path across his nose and cheeks that the tiny sun stars had created. This was summer. This was what it was to not just exist, but to really live beneath the sun. It had been almost a year since his reunion with his brother, and yet he still found it hard to believe that he was living his own life. It was hard not to feel like an imposter. Yet there he had been moments ago, running around like a kid as he tried to tag his brother, both of their laughs twinkling in the balmy air.

Now, however, he lay on his back in the bright green grass. He blames the heat for his exhaustion, after all, it’s not like he hasn’t built up an above average level of stamina! He just isn’t quite used to being subjected to such high levels of vitamin D, that’s all. The sun relentlessly beats down on his face, as though it's playfully mocking him for giving up so easily. Saeran just smiles back. He knows it won’t be long until MC and Saeyoung realise he has admitted defeat, and he knows that instead of mocking him, they will forget the game altogether and join him in the bed of grass he is resting upon. He knows because they did the same yesterday, and the day before that, and the day before that; most of their summer days play out the same way, and though to some it may seem repetitive, he wouldn’t want it any other way. The three of them would never grow tired of a life like this. After all, they had more than earned it.

For now, he admires this time alone, as brief as it will be. It’s not that he likes to be alone, he had spent far too much of his time that way, but he had to admit that this new life could be a little overwhelming at times. He knew without a doubt of course that if he mentioned this to his brother and MC, they would respect his every boundary with no questions asked and would allow him all the time he needed. They had done so the few times he had asked before, and they would always continue to do so. He just supposed he felt somewhat...silly, for asking. He’d spent so many years secretly wishing to be part of a family, and now that he was, he wanted time alone again? He couldn’t make sense of it.

There were a lot of things he couldn’t make sense of.

Like the fact he was living in the house he had always visited in his dreams, both during the day and on the nights he managed to sleep peacefully. Surely dreams as big as these were supposed to stay as dreams? And the fact he was reunited with his brother, whom he had spent so long hating under the influence of manipulation. He hated that he had ever felt like that, but those feelings had indeed once been a part of him, and he couldn’t just forget that. Now, together, they were living the life his brother had always promised him. He hated that he had doubted Saeyoung, but he had. But maybe that didn’t matter anymore...not now that this is reality.

And MC… He can hear her voice now, just a little way away, never too far from him. Her laugh is a song on the breeze as she giggles at whatever dumb thing his brother is no doubt doing. Saeran had been such a dark person, and now he was surrounded by a constant light that would never again allow him to forget who he really is.

A cloud floats over the sun at that exact moment, as though it knows what he’s thinking and is playing a game with him. He takes advantage of this sudden shade and a moment of respite from the relentless rays, and opens his eyes just in time to see a bumble bee buzz right past his face. He wonders where it’s headed; is it off to find the perfect flower to drink sweet nectar from? Or has it already succeeded in its task, and is now on its way home to its queen to whom it happily devotes its entire life to? Was it happy? Did it feel a sense of completion if it lived this way, never thinking for itself, only living to serve? Or was the bee like him? A traitor. Who spends its days longing to pick its own flower, to drink the nectar for himself, and to detach itself from the hive which was much too crowded.

He tries not to linger, and by using the method he had gratefully learned from his therapist, he lets the thoughts pass him by like the bee had done. He instead brings his attention to the way the grass tickles the bare expanse of his arms, and he lets his fingers run through the tall blades. The cloud that had been blocking the sun passes by too as it carries on its way, and forces Saeran to involuntarily bring one arm up to shield his eyes. He can’t see it through the rolled up sleeve of his shirt, but he knows his tattoo is there, like a raincloud against a clear sky. Perhaps the majority of people who would see it wouldn’t give it a second glance. Just another piece of swirling ink, that’s all it would be to them. They wouldn’t know what it stood for, or what it said he was. What it meant he had been. No, the majority of people wouldn’t know. But his family would. He can’t help but to wonder what they must think of it. He’d caught Saeyoung glancing at it a lot when he thought he wasn’t looking during those first few rocky weeks. Saeran knows deep down he was probably just bewildered by the concept of his brother with a tattoo at all, regardless of its origin. He knows Saeyoung would never link who Saeran is now to the place the tattoo symbolised...but the fear still lingered. He hated feeling like a monster.

MC made sure to kiss his tattoo whenever she saw it, and in the golden hours when all the world was silent as she laid in the same galaxy as he did, she would trace its curves and thorns with a tenderness he wasn’t sure he was worthy of. He knows she had never shied away from it, it didn’t scare her or torment her or serve as a constant reminder of the person he had once been to her, and the way he had treated her. As far away as that lifetime had been, it could never be forgotten. The tattoo made sure of that. But MC had once told him that although it was a reminder of his past, that wasn’t a bad thing. She had said that it was proof that he had grown, just like the flowers. To her, he was a flower.

To him, she was a field of them.

His thoughts wander to the flowers he loves so much now. He considers their roots, the way they battle and fight through the endless darkness and the dirt, the way they look so fragile, but to the flower, they are unbelievably strong. It must be so hard for them to grow, but eventually, all their hard work pays off. And that first glimmer of sunlight the sprout gets to see must feel incredible. That hope. That knowledge that they had done well. The roots remain below in the soil, but now they can breathe. Perhaps Saeran was like that. Perhaps his tattoo was similar to those flower roots. And perhaps roots could be pretty, too. The way they tangle and intertwine, that could be art too.

“There you are, buttercup.”

Just like that, MC is all he can see as she stands above him, leaning over slightly so her head lines up perfectly with his. He can't stop himself from giggling a little at the pet name she had called him, and that drop of laughter alone was enough to carry away all his previous thoughts. She shines as brightly as the sun, and he sees all the things he loves reflected within her tender eyes. All he knows is this; her, this garden in which he lays surrounded by all the things which he knows returns his love, and his brother, who has also made his way over and is now leaning over him alongside MC.

"Oh, so Saeran falls over and he gets called pretty names, but when I fall over, all you do is laugh?"

"Saeran's just taking a well deserved break, YOU tripped over the bubble machine I warned you at least 10 times about, you deserved it."

Saeran watches in adoration as Saeyoung dramatically throws his hand over his chest to clutch at his heart, and MC nonchalantly sticks out her tongue in return, and he finds himself making a promise. A promise to himself, to always remain grateful for those tangled roots that remain tucked away in the dark soil, for making him the beautiful wildflower he is today.

#mysmerbb #mystic messenger #saeran choi #saeyoung choi

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vannahfanfics · 3 years

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Before you read, here’s the previous chapter. New? Start from the beginning!

Cherry-Orange Blossoms

Ao3

Katsuki released a small, satisfied sigh after popping the noodle bowl away from his mouth, tongue swiping the last dregs of broth still clinging to his lips. He’d gotten much better at suppressing the disgusted shiver that gripped his body every time he forced himself to eat. As nausea roiled in his belly with an angry yowl, he physically suppressed it with a few thick swallows. Though the cough, fatigue, and sore throat were annoying, he’d have to say that the variation in his appetite was the worst symptom. At least it was the easiest to hide.

He set the bowl down on the lunch tray with a small exhale. As he moved, the nausea forced its way back up, making him clamp his hand over his mouth in a pitiful effort to combat the strong urge to retch. No! Stop bein’ a weak little bitch! You have to keep this fucking food down, he yelled at his rebelling body. His stomach flopped a few more times for obediently settling back down, though with a few more indignant grumbles. He scrunched up his face as he sucked in a few tentative breaths, praying the beast would stay quiet this time.

I’m not fucking kicking the bucket until this whole country knows my name, he thought lividly. Basketball was the only thing he had to live for now; he’d be damned if this fungus growing in his lungs was gonna take that away from him, too. For better or for worse, he was going to make the best of his final basketball season.

Just as he had finally settled down and was debating forcing himself to grab seconds, Ochako’s cheery voice calling his name floated above the cacophony of conversation clouding the air around him. He lurched into the table as his lungs spasmed, the flowers inside his tissue blooming in reverence of her siren call. The noodle bowl jumped as he slammed his fists down and his glass overturned, spilling water all over the red tray and the table. He frantically righted it and grabbed the few napkins he had to try and mop up the puddle of clear liquid as the brunette came trotting up.

“Katsuki, Katsuki, listen to this— Oh, no! Here, let me help you!” Ochako cried as she spotted him using the sopping-wet napkins to try and wipe up the remainder of the liquid. She snatched some napkins from a nearby container and scurried over, squeezing into the space next to him to furiously dab at the spreading water. As her arm brushed against his, Katsuki locked up and began to shake so hard he wondered if he was having a fucking seizure. Before Ochako could notice, he pinched his leg hard to make his mind stop spiraling into insanity.

His throat still burned as he swallowed repeatedly to force the rising petals back down, and a thin sheet of sweat bloomed on his skin from the tremor that so suddenly gripped him. Ochako turned her pretty brown eyes on him in a look of inquiry. He appeased her unspoken question by languidly reclining in the booth and running his fingers through his hair, though he cringed as the salty perspiration slicked his fingertips.

“What’re you lookin’ at me like that for, Cheeks? I just knocked a glass of water over.”

Ochako’s eyes fluttered a few times as she processed his nonchalant excuse. She seemed to believe it, smiling brightly with a slight nod.

“Right, right! Of course, haha,” she hummed as she dropped the wet napkins onto his tray. No seconds for me, I guess, he thought with a frown as he regarded the menagerie of soaked brown paper slips that littered the plastic plate. “What was I going to say?” Ochako frowned, pressing the pad of her index finger to her lips as she straightened. Again, her arm gently brushed his, and Katsuki felt electric fire sing through his nerves. He clenched his fists under the table, silently suffering as Ochako stood oblivious next to him.

“Oh, right!” she exclaimed after a second, clapping her hands together to turn on him with that brilliant smile that he lived for yet killed him slowly. “Katsuki! I made an A on the math quiz! Look, look!”

Katsuki jerked when she thrust a piece of paper into his face. He edged back a little so he could appreciate the series of red marks inked over the neatly written numbers and equations. Like Ochako had said, there were few incorrect answers. After a second, she pulled back the page to give him a smile that was brighter than before.

“It’s all thanks to you, Katsuki.”

“Nah,” the blond muttered, rubbing the back of his neck while a pink hue rose to his cheeks. “That’s all you, Cheeks. I mighta helped a little, but you didn’t do anythin’ you weren’t capable of.”

Ochako’s eyes grew owlish, making him flinch uncomfortably. Then, like a flip had switched inside of her, she started blubbering.

“ Kahhhsukiiii !” she wailed in between hiccuping sobs, clutching the quiz to her chest so hard that it crumpled under her grip. The blond’s face grew a shade darker at the strange (and adorable) reaction, prompting him to hide his face with a hand.

“The hell you cryin’ for?” he chastised half-heartedly. Ochako moaned woefully and tried to stifle her tears, but they continued to pour in thick globs down those round cheeks of hers, which were beginning to turn a ruddy red. Katsuki snorted and stood up, leaning over the lunch table. “Jeez, what am I going to do with you?” he sighed with a tiny smile as he scrubbed at her cheeks with the ends of his sleeves. Ochako let out little squeaks with each swipe of the fabric across her skin, the paper crinkling as her fingers twitched.

“Always such a crybaby,” he said affectionately when he finally pulled away, the ends of his sleeves damp with Ochako’s tears. “Less cryin’ and more eatin’, Cheeks. I don’t wanna hear you complaining that you’re hungry later!” To emphasize his point, he turned her around by the shoulders and gave her a gentle shove. She gasped as she stumbled forward, then turned around to flash him a giddy smile. Katsuki couldn’t help the way he looked at her then, the way his expression softened and his heart fluttered.

He was thankful she turned around to leave right as his lungs spasmed again. He hunched over while slapping a hand to his mouth, trembling at the disgusting feeling of the soft, silky petals crawling up his throat. He could see her form retreating through the tears flooding his eyes, the skip in her step as she rejoined the other girls at the lunch table. His chest burned with the strain to suppress the coughs, like a fire had started in his lungs hell-bent on burning him up to ash from the inside out.

Why did he do this to himself, he wondered as the tears faded and his vision cleared. His answer was immediate, illuminating the room in the form of Ochako’s happy smile. He’d rather live out the rest of his days in total misery than deprive himself of that pure, innocent light of an angel come to earth.

Idiot, he thought with a slight wheeze through his fingers. This is why you’re dying .

Katsuki’s vermillion eyes were stinging and still slightly bloodshot when he finally eased himself back into his chair. He looked down at the lunch tray, which was covered with damp napkins, and then pushed it away with a huff. As he plopped his chin down on his crossed arms, Hanta and Denki leaned over each of his shoulders with matching grins that just spelled “annoying.”

“Yanno, you’re awfully chummy with Ochako lately,” Denki hummed with a wiggle of his eyebrows.

“Yeah,” Hanta chimed in agreement, “ awful chummy, way too chummy to be with someone else’s girlfriend. You wouldn’t want Izuku getting any ideas about your intentions, now would you?” As Katsuki shot the ravenet an irritated glare, he popped a corndog into his mouth with raised eyebrows.

“You think I give a fuck about Deku’s ideas ?” he snorted derisively. He shifted to press his cheek into his hand, glowering at Hanta. “What, I can’t be friends with her because she’s dating that shitstain? Get off my case,” he grumbled.

“Hey, hey, no need to get offended,” Denki said in a sing-song voice. Katsuki looked at him to see him biting down on the tip of his tongue mischievously. “We’re just making an observation.”

“Yeah, an observation!”

“Observe this , assholes,” Katsuki retorted and flipped them both off. Before they could annoy him further, he pushed himself up from the table. He slid his hands in his pockets, ignoring the two pleading for him to come back in between laughter. As he sauntered around the table, he found himself glancing in the direction of the girls— and noted the absence of bouncy brown hair and rosy round cheeks.

He barely had time to wonder where she went before the nausea roiled in his belly again. His hands flew out of his pockets to clutch his belly, and then one slapped to his mouth as he was overtaken with the strong urge to retch. He shouldered through the double doors of the lunch room to stagger down the hall; through his blurry vision, he could spy the bathroom sign hovering against the wall. However, Katsuki’s pride burned inside of him; he was going to try his damnedest to resist. He slumped against the wall and slowly slid down into a squat, then pried his hand away from his mouth to begin gulping down air.

For a few seconds, the deep breaths only heightened his urge to vomit; gradually, however, his writhing stomach slowly settled. He slowly leveled out his breathing until he was just sitting against the brick, exhausted by the effort. He ran his shaking fingers through his hair, and when he pulled it back, he found his fingertips glistening with sweat.

“ Fuck ,” he cursed quietly and leaned forward to cradle his head in his hands. It had barely been a month since those damn petals had blossomed in his lungs; how was he supposed to cope with the later stages of his disease, when he was so damn miserable? Tears of frustration sprung to the corners of his eyes and he gripped his hair between his fingers, tugging at the spiky strands. “Why are you doing this to yourself, Katsuki?” he whispered hoarsely.

He knew why. He knew damn well why, and yet he wouldn’t— couldn’t — do a damn thing about it.

He jumped when he heard a bang echo in the wall behind him. Startled at the idea of being found like that, he scrambled to his feet and turned around. It took a moment for his disoriented mind to recognize the sign for the women’s bathroom above his head. He looked down at the entrance when another bang sounded in the depths of the bathroom, followed by the unmistakable sound of miserable retching. Someone’s sick…? He thought in confusion.

He was even more confused when Ochako came toddling out, looking a little green in the face and wiping at the corner of her mouth with a palm. When she spotted Katsuki, she froze like a deer in headlights, eyes growing enormous. They just stared at each other for a few seconds, stunned by this strange reaction, until Katsuki sputtered the first thing that came to mind.

“Cheeks, you aren’t pregnant , are ya?”

“ What ?!” she shrieked, turning a bright shade of crimson. “N-n-n-n-no! Oh my God, Katsuki, no !” She buried her face in her hands, but Katsuki could still almost see the air sizzling around her head from the heat rolling off her face. “I-It’s some medications I’m on!” she explained through the gaps in her fingers. “I-i-it’s really heavy-duty stuff, with nausea and vomiting as the number-one side effect… Pr-pr-pregnant ? Why on Earth— D-Deku and I don’t— w-we don’t do— oh my gosh!”

As she turned so red Katsuki began to worry her head might actually explode, he jumped forward and waved his hands placatingly.

“All right, Cheeks, all right! I’m sorry I asked; that was pretty fucking stupid of me, okay! Calm down!”

Ochako was close to the point of hyperventilating with shock. Smiling wanly, he gently peeled her hands away from her face to find it bright red and shining with nervous sweat. Her eyes were glued to her shoes, watering with tears of embarrassment. Her teeth worried into her bottom lip to shred the fine skin. “Hey,” he laughed, admittedly charmed by her cute overreaction, and cupped her cheek. “Cheeks, look at me. I’m sorry, okay? That was dumb of me.”

Hesitantly, she looked up at him. Tears clung like dewdrops to her lashes, which fluttered nervously as soon as she met his gaze.

“I can’t believe you asked me that,” she pouted. He had to chuckle at the adorable way she jutted out her bottom lip; then, the flowers in his lungs began to stir again. He hurriedly stepped back from her, his palm missing the warmth of her soft cheek as soon as it vanished. He stuffed his hands back in his pockets and looked off to the side, but unable to keep his eyes from sliding back to look at her out of his peripheral vision.

“Tch. I said I was sorry, okay? I mean, what was I supposed to think, with you hurling in the middle of the day? You’ve already had Hanahaki and it’s impossible to relapse when you’re dating Deku.”

Something flickered over her face, lightning-fast, but Katsuki still caught it. He raised an eyebrow at the strange emotion that passed over her features; he couldn’t name it, but it was nonetheless strange. Ochako hummed thoughtfully and turned, her gaze growing cloudy as she walked to the vending machine across the hall. Katsuki’s body turned of its own volition to keep her in his line of sight.

“You’re right,” she said quietly, surveying the selection of drinks. “It just took me by surprise, that’s all…” Robotically, she removed a yen bill from her wallet and slid it into the machine, then pressed the buttons to select a bottle of water. The robotic arm within the vending machine jerkily retrieved it and deposited it into the slot. Before Ochako could bend down to get it, though, Katsuki had already closed the distance between them and plucked it from the machine.

“Cheeks,” he said and poked her in the side of the head with the end of the bottle. She blinked as he pushed the cold plastic into her temple, not sure what to make of the sudden action. Katsuki’s face was pensive, trying to riddle out just what had caused Ochako’s mood to shift so suddenly. But he could glean nothing from that sweet round face and warm brown eyes; whatever it was, Ochako had buried it deep inside.

I guess we all have our secrets.

“Cheeks,” he repeated, his lips curling up into a smile. “Take care of yourself, okay?”

Idiot, he thought once more when a smile slowly bloomed on her face, making his heart flutter like a baby bird preparing for its first unsteady flight. He loved that smile so damn much it hurt; it filled his soul to the brim with joy, that illuminating flash of her teeth and bulge of her cheeks and the scrunch of her eyes. Idiot, he thought again as his lungs spasmed in his chest, the fungi digging deep into his cells to bloom cherry blossoms in the dark. This is why you’re dying.

Yet it felt like he was dying without her, in the moments alone when the nights closed in and he wheezed in his dark room and sweaty bed sheets that were tangled around his legs from fitful, painful sleep. He was dying all the time, so he might as well die within the reach of the light of his life, rather than alone in the dark.

A flower alone in a patch of light with the shadows closing in, clinging to every last sunbeam it can before the darkness finally washes over it and causes it to wither slowly, painfully, tortuously… Yet for every second he would rage, rage against the dying of the light, until he drew his last ragged breath.

Because in the light, Ochako bloomed.

Enjoy this story? Here’s the next chapter! Please consider perusing my Table of Contents.

#kacchako #bakuraka #bakugo x ochako #bakugo x uraraka #ochako x bakugo #uraraka x bakugo #bakugo katsuki #katsuki bakugo #ochako uraraka #uraraka ochako #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #mha #bnha

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lipstickbisous · 4 years

Text

the lion and her sun. (4)

LOST LANNISTER PRINCESS

notes: so far, every chapter has ended with aurane rejecting oberyn sooo. and yeah some facts abt this might wrong but hey..

we gon pretend like dahlia’s exist in this universe.

and the dress she wears during her walk is très similar to the pink one shae wears in ‘the lion and the rose’. this is for lack of a better picture. (except the dress is orange)

i wrote this while watching the prisoner of azkaban.

none of that matters, but it’s important to me that you know that.

- john mulaney.

ALSO updates might be a little slower now, we’re having HUGE wifi problems at our house but i will definitely keep writing!

pairing: oberyn x oc!reader

summary: on her last day before the married life, aurane’s emotions start to change.

word count: 6.5k

masterlist

the week was coming to an end, much to aurane’s dismay. for the past three days, she had much to think about and do. her walk with oberyn had thoughts racing around in her head when she had gone to sleep that night. even resting naked against the silk sheets, her pillow pressed to her face with her sprawled out behind her head and her eyes gently shut, memories of the gardens and the prince were floating about, refusing aurane’s begs to go so she could ease into unconsciousness.

when her father had spoken of the sudden and upsetting news to aurane, cersei had spoken of how the dornish would be obligated to use the youngers lannister anyway they wanted.

“they’ll humiliate her, torture her,” aurane’s dear sister spoke. “you’re going to send her off to her death. a lamb for slaughter.”

now, as aurane watched the sun rise with the silk sheets pulled up to cover her bare breasts, she wondered if her sister, cersei lannister, who had never been wrong about anything, had seriously misjudged the martell family. the princess hadn’t been in the city to meet the common people yet and she hoped that they would be exactly like the royals of sunspear.

she could hear the bustling of early-rising maidens attending to their chores outside of her door. the child inside of aurane couldn’t wait to see what breakfast she would be brought this morning.

it must’ve been hours since she had risen from her sleep because the sun now sat in its throne in the sky and there was a knock on the door. “i have your breakfast, your grace.” a sweet voice spoke but the unfamiliar accent made it hard to decipher.

“come in,” aurane spoke, pulling up two of her pillows against the headboard of her bed and leaning her back towards them. it might’ve been the way she had slept but there was ache throughout her spine. the girl who walked in could’ve been no older than aurane. her hair was curly and frizzy and her skin a light brown. her lips were perfectly shaped and her nose curved into a more rounded one. the girl set down the tray of food at the table near aurane’s window, but before she could set out the plate, cutlery, and goblet, aurane spoke. “forgive me, but i don’t think you’ve ever served me before.”

the girl nodded and curtsied. “my name is dyanna,” she said.

“and where are you from,” aurane questioned before sitting back up and pushing herself off of the bed she’d found more comfortable than any other. along with her she took the silk sheets and held them against her chest so they covered her breasts, stomach, and ass. she sat at her table and smiled when seeing that breakfast that morning consisted of fresh bread, butter and jam, berries, and more orange juice. “dyanna.”

aurane’s interest in a someone of lower-class was unusual for any maiden to experience, even in dorne. “i’m from meereen, your grace.” before aurane could pop a grape into her mouth or slice off a thin piece of bread, she grinned.

“meereen?” she questioned, to which dyanna nodded. aurane set the grape down on her plate and sighed, the smile still lingering. “i’ve never met someone from essos.”

dyanna smiled with her hands held together. “no?” aurane shook her head before finishing half of her orange juice. in the past few days, it the only thing other than wine that aurane could drink. new flavors were being brought to her with every meal and the lannister princess couldn’t get enough.

“no. my father always kept me in the red keep,” she divulged, smearing butter onto a slice of bread and jam on half of it. “tell me, dyanna of meereen,” aurane inquired before biting down on a small piece of bread. the crust was crunchy in her mouth and the jam, the sweetness of strawberries and sugar, contrasted the tecture. “if my knowledge of geography is correct, meereen is just on slaver’s bay.”

it was hesitant, but dyanna nodded silently in response. when aurane kept eating, popping a berry in her mouth between every other bite, she confessed, “i was born a slave and raised into it, your grace,” the princess sat back, leaving her loaf of bread on the plate along with the few berries left. her gaze softened, showing that she was listening, as her eyes focused on the sea. “i was sold to sunspear and sent to work for prince doran but he freed me.”

slavery had never been something that aurane had first-hand witnessed but her beliefs on it remained negative, unlike her sister and father, who couldn’t have cared less about those born lower than them. it was always a flaw that aurane had seen. “so, you’re a free woman,” aurane looked to the coffered ceiling and clutched her goblet of juice in her hand. “but you choose to work as a maiden?”

dyanna only shrugged, her posture remaining ideal. “what could i do?”

aurane laughed before sipping the rest of her drink and setting it down next to her half-full plate. “you could own a stand in the market. or work at one at least,” aurane sat back in her seat, mindlessly letting the sheets slip a bit, revealing the top of her breast. “collect enough money to buy your own place, or...” dyanna looked up in interest and aurane smirked. “purchase your own land.”

the maiden laughed and shook her head. aurane had then finished her breakfast and felt the breeze of the dornish mornings through the strands of her hair. “i’m fine here, your grace.” aurane kindly nodded as dyanna took the tray in her arms and sighed. before leaving the bedroom and closing the door, she piped up, “oh, your grace, forgive me. i forgot to mention it, but prince oberyn has told me to inform you that he would like another walk...before the wedding.”

dyanna then shut the door behind her before aurane could smile in silence. for the short time she’d been awake that morning, the princess hadn’t once thought anything about her marriage. dorne had entranced aurane and fabricated an entire sort of bliss in her mind.

there wasn’t much to do that day anyway. the wedding was already planned and she’d already worn the wedding dress to have it sized perfectly--during which aurane had been poked with needles twice but brush it off when the maiden apologized mercifully.

another stroll around the gardens, even if it was with the prince, didn’t sound so bad.

this time, aurane had worn an outfit less revealing than her last one. she’d spent an afternoon one day diving through her dresser and wardrobes to see what exactly oberyn had given her. most were two-piece outfits that aurane didn’t see herself comfortable with wearing just yet, but others were fine dresses made of soft and translucent linens. in the bottom drawers of her dresser were at least nine different pairs of...pants? aurane had never worn pants before. in casterly rock and king’s landing, women were always required to be clothed in robes down to their feet. the princess supposed that along with a new home came new opportunities.

well, that inner voice in her head spoke at she bit her bottom lip while holding a pair of trousers that were a dark shade of brown. there’s no point in not trying.

aurane stood with the pants in her hands, naked in her room--in all of her glory--and sighed before slipping her feet through the corresponding holes of the clothing. she pulled the pants up to her waist where it had felt comfortable and tied the two loose strings along the sides together the pants tightened around her stomach.

there was nothing much for aurane to say about them except for the fact that she entirely did not enjoy them. she looked to the mirror and noticed how they bagged around her thighs as she pinched the areas that left gaps between her skin and the material of the pants. aurane pulled them off as quickly as possible and pitched them into the woven basket she’d been given on her third day for dirty laundry.

she began to dive into the wardrobe again before noticing the pale orange dress that had been hung directly in the center of her closet. the silk had nearly been invisible because when aurane slipped it onto her frame, she could see her legs and breasts through the fabric. it was then she remembered the prince’s sudden mention of undergarments and wraps that had been placed inside the dressers as well. the entire process of wearing a simple dress that fit perfectly took far too long for aurane then removed the clothing from her body, wrapped a cloth around her bust and backside, then placing the dress back on her frame. it hadn’t been too entirely hot that day, so the simple sheer fabric of the robe had been perfect against aurane’s skin.

by then, with the sun’s position in the sky, it had already been an hour before lunch and aurane’s stomach began to rumble with a yearning for the dornish food she’d grown so attached to over the past week. the princess placed a hand over her torso and sighed. she supposed it would be best to wait for oberyn to arrive just as he had the other day.

almost half an hour flew, and aurane was still waiting. as of now, she sat in a chair by her window, quill, ink, and paper in her lap as she drew the outline of the great palm tree in front of her room. she hadn’t once looked down to see what her drawing would turn out to be; it was an art technique she had been taught in king’s landing. aurane had already finished several other drawings of whatever the view from her window brought and they sat by her feet on the floor. finally, after an illusion of hours, there was a knock on her door.

aurane hated to admit that she immediately jumped off of her chair and onto her feet, running to the door to see the prince. but when she opened the door, it was a large man, taller than any other she’d seen, with rich dark skin and a bald head. “captain?” she cocked an eyebrow.

the guard nodded. “prince oberyn waits for you outside of the west wing of the castle,” areo hotah was one of the most intimidating men that aurane had ever seen and she had been trained by ser gregor in her teenages years--of course, it was never something to mention to the martells.

aurane chewed the inside of her cheek nervously and blushed. “right, um,” she said, looking back to her room and shaking her head before letting out a small laugh that didn’t change the guards’ expressions at all. “well, i guess i’m going.” areo let her leave the room before closing her doors behind her. they then walked down the hallways of the dornish castle, aurane in front with several of her guards behind her. the seven then turned a corner and was brought to another door at the end of the hallway. aurane laughed sheepishly and turned to the captain.

“the west wing is that way, your grace,” he pointed behind the group, in the opposite direction of how they had been walking. as much as aurane wanted to roll her eyes--because why hadn’t he mentioned it before?--she smiled politely and turned on her heel to the west wing.

they trailed down staircases, strolled down through hallways that all began to look the same, and took sharp turns and corners. “if you don’t mind my asking,” aurane spoke with her eyes focused on any sign of where she was in the castle. “why is the prince not at the front entrance? or the gardens?”

areo laughed deeply, a sound that came straight from the depths of his chest. “the prince has special plans today, your grace.” over the last few days, aurane had been reassured that she would remain safe in dorne. but with the captain’s sudden statement, a fear washed over aurane again.

the princess truly had no idea what was in the west wing. the east held all of the royal’s bedrooms, the north had the guest rooms, and the south was for the maidens, chefs, and laborers of the castle. but the remaining had always remained a mystery until now.

“elia martell’s room used to be here, your grace,” the captain spoke again. aurane’s straightforward footsteps began to slow in pace as the realization sunk in. “it’s been abandoned since her death.” without stopping in her walk, aurane sighed. it was quiet again, with only the marching steps of the guards, the wooden ends of the spears against the floor, and loud thoughts in aurane’s head for her to hear. “prince oberyn is just this way, your grace.” areo pointed down a staircase to where there was a little wooden door with a lining of light around it.

sickness began to overtake aurane’s body as she thought about the one specific princess who once habited this part of the castle. how aurane’s family had brutally slaughtered this princess and her children; how they sent her off as a peace treaty. aurane hadn’t noticed it, but she then stood directly in front of the door, staring at the knob. areo, from behind her, cleared his throat for it was a tight staircase and not all six of the guards, including him, could fit inside. she was knocked out of her thoughts and pushed the door open, the sudden sunlight burning her eyes from becoming used to the dim lighting of the castle. she mentally hissed and slapped a hand over her eyes before they met other brown ones.

“good morning, lion,” oberyn smiled. behind him were several more guards holding spears taller than them. the brightness of the sun didn’t seem to affect him at all as aurane gently squinted. “come, we’ll find shade.”

when aurane was by his side, he placed a gentle hand on her back, just as he did nights ago when she had silently rejected him. “and where exactly are we going this time?”

the prince chuckled. “well, you are to be a princess of dorne by tomorrow,” he smiled as they began to walk. it was then, when aurane could finally see in the light, that she noticed they were in a similar space as the docks. behind a large wall, extremely close to the ocean that aurane could almost feel it on her skin. “i figured you would want to meet the city.”

two of his guards stood by an alike door to that of what was located in the castle. it was old and smelled moldy like it hadn’t been used in a long time. aurane laughed. “a secret entrace?” she looked up to the prince with an arched eyebrow. “you really think dorne won’t like me that you had to take me to a secret entrance?”

oberyn shrugged. “i didn’t think you would want the attention.” the two guards swung the door open and aurane could instantly hear the bustling and yelling of the city of sunspear. she looked to oberyn, who stood only two inches taller than her, and sighed before ducking to fit inside the small door frame and entered the city.

it had almost been like magic because the wall had been so thick and strong it kept out all sound of a well-growing economy. as far as aurane could see, there were large structures and houses built all over the land. on the second floors of those buildings must’ve been the homes to thousands of dornish citizens because below them on the first floor were market and small shops and trading centers. it had been so similar to king’s landing yet sunspear reminded aurane nothing of home.

the prince was quiet for a few seconds because not one common person had noticed their presence. “do you like it?” he asked.

aurane smiled but oberyn hadn’t seen it. she slowly nodded as she whispered a, “yeah,” but soon caught herself in such a vulnerable state. “it’s not like i have much of a say whether i like it or not, do i?”

her sarcastic and audacious remarks had no effect on the prince anymore or, really, anyone of dorne. she hadn’t seen ellaria since she’d brought her lunch but even her maidens and servants didn’t seem bothered. it was like their pride could never be tainted. without saying anything in response, oberyn simply cocked his head and they began to walk again.

the soldiers followed a foot behind them but yet maintained a distance for a discussion or even a simple conversation to take place. at least three ladies had recognized the prince and gently curtsied before returning to their daily duties. oberyn must’ve noticed aurane’s confused state because he answered with, “everyone in dorne is treated equal. farmers and marketers are treated just how i am treated.”

even aurane had to admit that the system the people of sunspear followed was fair and nice. “they just...” she shook her head, her eyes trailing over anything to look at by the second. “they don’t look so surprised.”

oberyn shrugged. “i come for walks often,” his hands were holding each together behind his back but every part of him wanted to place just a soft, caring hold on aurane. “the guards are a requirement of my brother.”

why was he so kind? why, even after the slaughtering his family had gone through, the pain he’d felt in his life, was he so kind? even better, how could he be so sweet and patient and loving to those below him? it made a regurgitative feeling arise in aurane’s stomach and she could feel the contents of her breakfast reaching her throat before sighing and swallowing it back down, cringing in disgust.

“you’re distressed, my sun,” the pet name, which aurane had secretly grown found of but would never admit, made her slightly cower. “what’s wrong?”

the prince’s eyes trailed over the variety of fruits and vegetables being sold by one vender as aurane chose her words carefully. “i fear i’ve been...disrespectful,” it was long overdue but oberyn was patient. “from the moment we arrived in dorne, you’ve been nothing but- but hospitable and welcoming. and i’ve been...vile. and rude,” he only nodded for her to continue, sensing she had a whole loads of words to speak. “perhaps it was my sister who drove this fear into me that i wouldn’t be accepted here.”

a kind smile between a vendor and oberyn was exchanged from his viewing of the products, but he listened intently to every word. “growing up, you were taught we were animals.”

aurane nodded and laughed incredulously. “savages,” she corrected him. such biased opinions had been written in the books she’d read as a child when learning about westeros. “and during the past week, i’ve found you’re nothing like the sort.”

the prince chuckled and smiled so that butterflies flew down aurane’s throat and into her stomach, where they would remain. “oh, really?”

her eyes watched as he turned to look at every sort of item being sold that day. suddenly, his kindness was a likable attribute to aurane and she blushed with a sly smirk. “if i’m telling the truth here,” he nodded. “you might even be better than those in king’s landing.”

“well, it’s not hard to be better than a lannister.” his remark wasn’t hateful or vengeful as oberyn smirked back and for a second, aurane had forgotten that there were guards behind her or merchants and traders and farmers all around. it felt like it was just the two of them enjoying them a quiet afternoon and a simple conversation. she quite liked it. “perhaps we should find lunch somewhere.”

aurane furrowed her eyebrows with a crooked smile before hesitantly laughing. “you mean,” she found no falter in the prince’s expression. “dining in a- a what, a restaurant?”

this seemed to take oberyn by surprise because, and it was the only time aurane could find him doing this that day, he laughed unsurely. the red viper was never unsure and even he himself couldn’t say what was happening. “well, yes,” his eyes began to scan over the many shops and restaurants in search of a meal. “that is what restaurants tend to do.”

such comment was not meant to be sarcastic or snarky or rude. it was a mindless thought that oberyn had just happened speak out. “i’ve never been in a restaurant,” aurane whispered and looked to the ground. would the owners of whatever eating house oberyn picked be peaceful with a lannister princess dining in their business.

oberyn had heard her mumble but said nothing of it. there was a pit at the bottom of his stomach, it’d been there since his sister was murdered, and he hadn’t felt such sympathy in that pit from elia’s death until now, when aurane muscles grew tense because people were starting to look.

there were whispers. the worst kind of whispers; the kind where it seemed as if every person had something to say but it was impossible to make out. eyes were glued to the couple yet hands remained at their jobs. oberyn had never seen his city spark in such controversy. had aurane been right? would they treat her differently? he looked to the girl beside him and found that she was hearing the whispers too yet there was no stall in her walk. if someone had quickly glanced at her, she would glare back at them. her chin was raised high and oberyn, such as he had done with ellaria, felt compassion and admiration.

he gulped silently at the sudden change of heart in his city. as they began to walk further and further, growing deeper in sunspear, the whispers began to fade in and out. the rumored lannister princess was finally showing her face. “here, my sun,” he pointed to a small tavern with trays of produce and potted flowers in front of the windows. “i’ve been told you can handle the dornish spices.”

aurane blushed and nodded as the sudden mention of such topic caused her mind to flash to ellaria. she wanted to see the older lady again desperately and she wasn’t sure why. the entrace of the restaurant was not grand or heavenly or designed with a golden intricate design. it was a simple tavern with at least sixty plants hung and placed on the perimeter. it had been one large room and, for the time of day, strangely empty. aurane suspected that the prince had reserved it in secret but she wouldn’t comment on it.

before either of them stepped foot into the tavern, oberyn placed a gentle hand on her forearm and pointed to one of the potted plants that held six white flowers with layers of small triangular petals. a few of the flowers had a pink hue to them but the white ones took aurane by interest.

“a dahlia,” the prince smiled, gently dragging his fingers over the petals. his eyes seemed entranced over the small plant. “you don’t see them very much.”

aurane smiled and turned to oberyn. “they grow rarely in king’s landing,” her words were sweet but there was something in oberyn’s gaze that seemed so reminiscent. he was longing for something. “what is it?”

he chewed the inside of his cheek and aurane turned to the guards standing protectively behind them. even they seemed aware of whatever oberyn had been feeling. “elia’s favorite flower,” his lips curled with a raspy voice before picking the flower from it’s stem and holding it between his two fingers. oberyn then looked to aurane, who was more understanding now, and wove the flower through her hair until it sat behind her ear. aurane could only smile.

―

the day was ending and the sun was starting to set. a large lunch had filled aurane’s stomach so there was no room for dinner. oberyn must’ve been the same because on their walk back to the castle, he, too, walked with heavy feet. the guard’s behind them didn’t stumble in their steps as the sunlight was fading.

“i hoped you enjoy our walk today,” oberyn spoke, his hands behind his back as they strolled along the secret pathway. while exiting the city through the small door just as they had done earlier that day, aurane had been careful to crouch down so that her flower would stay woven in her hair.

she nodded and listened to the waves because there wasn’t much else to here. the bustling of the city was muffled by the wall but aurane didn’t mind a little of bit of silence as the day ended. “i think i did,” the dahlia, which had at first felt strange when touching her temple was now softly brushing against her skin. “and i did enjoy lunch.” she turned to the prince.

“i don’t suppose you still want dinner?” he asked politely, looking down only two inches to her height. most of the woman oberyn had been with, apart from ellaria, could only reach his shoulder but the top of aurane’s head touched just below his nose.

it was peaceful for him to watch her laugh so effortlessly and genuinely as the shore threatened to crash above the pathaway. they’d been inches away from the water but yet no sign of fear arose. “no, i think i’ve had my fill for the day.”

a nod in response before oberyn sighed, “join me in my chambers.” just as his voice normally did toward the end of the day, he sounded raspy and tired yet every part of him was awake while he looked at aurane.

was it an offer for a night of pleasure? the rumors of oberyn and his countless lovers had been spread all throughout westeros and he didn’t seem ashamed by them. aurane had no problem with bedding someone before she was married, she’d done it before, but she hadn’t thought that the prince would draw her close just for a fuck. the prince laughed and shook his head, noticing aurane’s train of thought. “i can promise you, lion, it’s not like that,” he chuckled out. aurane’s cheeks burned in embarrassment. “when was the last time you had a bath?”

they were now in the abandoned west wing that remained darker than the rest of the castle, but aurane didn’t find it unpleasant or frightening. oberyn could barely find the courage to walk around these quarters of the castle himself but aurane, who had lived with the family responsible of the death of the former inhabitant of sunspear, strolled so unbothered down those halls. it wasn’t because she had no care for elia martell’s death, if anything it was the opposite, but no--this was because aurane could swallow the lannister pride and respect the fact that her father slaughtered oberyn’s sister.

once they had arrived in the east wing, oberyn turned to his soldiers and cocked his head for them to leave him and aurane. because they had been under prince doran’s command, they each shared a glance of hesitation but one simple stern eye and a whispered “have my maidens fetch warm water for my room” and they continued to walk down the hallway, leaving the oncoming couple alone. “you wouldn’t oppose a bath, would you?”

aurane’s first experience of a bath in dorne had been lovely, mainly due to the spices and scents of the salts and soaps she combed through her hair. she sighed heavily, her chest rising with her breath before smiling, “no, i don’t think i would.” the rest of their walk was in sweet silence. the castle seemed to be asleep--the gardens were empty and the hallways barren of the normal maidens hurrying down to each room. aurane noticed that they walked past her room and she wondered just how close her and oberyn had been to each other this entire time. the floors, still a pristine polished marble, seemed to glimmer as the last of the sun could be seen in the sky. finally, they had arrived at oberyn’s door, which were exactly the same as aurane’s.

she chuckled and looked back down the hallway to where her doors stood and then back at the prince. “all this time and you’ve been down the hallway?” oberyn shrugged and opened the door for the princess. she bit on her tongue when she was instantly greeted with the overpowering aroma of citrus sugar.

“don’t tell me you’re having second thoughts now?” the prince smirked and aurane showed no hesitation as she sauntered confidently into the room, soon slowing her steps.

his room had been much bigger than hers, yet held the same amount of furniture and looked still so full. the bed was placed next to the equivalent wall that aurane’s bed was in her room. the windows were so close to the bed that it seemed to her morning’s must’ve been perfect because the sun could just simply leak in through the windows and darken the skin of whoever lied upon the bed. next to the opening of the room was a desk that held what looked like to be hundreds of crumpled papers and a quill and its ink. on the opposite side of his room was a large wooden tub that could hold multiple bodies and the simple thought of who had been in there before almost sickened aurane. the tub had been filled to the brim with warm water and on a small table beside it were various soaps and salts.

it was sudden but the door had been closed and oberyn’s hands landed on aurane bare shoulders. she shuddered gently and he immediately removed his touch. “lion,” he spoke steadily and turned aurane to him.

they both turned so their backs faced each other and she could hear him unbuttoning his top. her fingers did their best to trail over the clip in the rear of her dress but fumbled over the soft fabric. she sighed and turned to the prince but found he’d already reversed back to her. his chest was completely bare as he was only dressed in his pants. he must’ve silently slipped his boots off because his feet were also bare against the marble. he cocked his head and pushed on her shoulder so she turned once again. his index and thumb found the clip so simply and undid it so the fabric feel loose against her body, but her hands flew to her chest to catch it from falling completely off. there a crumpling noise of leather dropping into a heap on the floor. water splashed apart and together until it was silent again. while keeping her back facing oberyn, aurane turned her head and met his eyes.

he sat against the side of the tub with his arms held up along the edge of the wood. “are you scared, lion?” he asked so sweetly yet remained so stern.

the only thing that stood in the way of aurane standing as naked as the day she was born in front of the prince was her hands clutching onto the dress. “close your eyes.” she whispered. oberyn only sighed and rose a hand over his eyes, gently squeezing them shut for reassurance. the dress cascaded down to the floor with an inaudible sound. she stepped one foot in the water and the warmth instantly felt calming. once aurane stood completely in the tub, she began to sink to the bottom, where she sat with the surface of her bath reaching just above her breasts.

“can i open?” the prince asked.

aurane brought her knees to her chest and spoke aloud a, “yes.” her arms wrapped around her legs as oberyn rested his hand again and smiled. somehow, despite her cowering position, aurane felt more confident than ever with all of her body exposed.

that sly smile spread over oberyn’s face again as twirled his finger for aurane to turn around. she did so and sat closer to him in between his legs. her breath almost hitched when she felt his length against her back but he didn’t act upon it. instead, he lathered his hands with a lemon-scented shampoo and combed it throughout the strands of aurane’s hair. it was a soothing feeling as his fingertips gently massaged her scalp and aurane could’ve fallen asleep right there. once her hair was completely covered in the suds, oberyn then cupped his hands into the water and poured it over her head, watching as the soap washed out fairly easily.

she chuckled. “how many girls have you given baths too?” she noted his expertise. it wasn’t every man who knew who to treat a woman’s hair--not in westeros.

once her hair was completely cleaned and dripping and pushed it to the side of her neck so her back was bare. he placed a soft kiss against the top of her spine, “do you want to know?” and began to caress her arms with the bar of soap. aurane gently shook her head and smiled. for a month, she’d be tense and anxious for what her fate awaited for her. for the past week, while remaining in her room she’d grown closer and closer to that fate and could not see perfectly clear what it was. and if it really was this, she didn’t mind. a finger was suddenly brushed over a raw piece of skin on her arm and she shivered under the touch.

oberyn’s eyebrows furrowed in concern before sitting up and looking over the top of aurane’s arm. “lion,” he cooed, gazing at the ruined skin--a scar. “how did you acquire such a wound?”

the question was one that aurane didn’t have to answer often because it was only her family who had seen it and she’d never left the castle for anyone else to glimpse her scar.

“fire,” she spoke as he continued to gently rub over the healed wound with one hand, and the other poured water over the soap on her body. the sun had now completely set and the stars were glimmering over the surface of the water. the moonlight had such an effect on aurane’s frame--there was a silver lining against her curves and edges and oberyn wanted nothing more than to cherish it. “casterly rock didn’t like how the last lannister child was a bastard, furthermore with a rumored dornishwoman. i had never seen the city until i was four namedays,” the prince remained quiet as another kiss was placed on her shoulder. “my father had been hesitant about letting me into the festivals. but my brother had begged. he said ‘she’ll never learn to be a good ruler if she can’t know her people’, so papa had my sister escort me along with four other guards.”

a kiss on her knuckles as he held her hand. “and?”

“i’d gotten lost along the way. i didn’t think it was possible for a city to hate a child so much but i’d been proven wrong.” underneath the water, aurane moved her hands in such delicate motions. “i was in alley or- something like that, i can’t remember. but there were two men there and a woman. they were sneering and laughing at the little lost lannister princess,” a kiss on her wrist. “one was holding a candle since the sun was setting for the festivities to begin, and as i was trying to walk away, they pressed the fire against my arm,” the memories were still there in aurane’s mind but they didn’t spark anger or vengeance in her. she had accepted it. “my sister then found me and my father had them hanged.”

oberyn chuckled and planted a firm kiss on her neck. the loving and affectionate actions hadn’t taken aurane by surprise. she knew of the prince’s ways and respects. “lannisters are dangerous people.”

he talked of her family as if she wasn’t a part of it. maybe she wasn’t--maybe aurane wasn’t a lannister like her father or siblings because her mother had been a dornishwoman and aurane had been born a bastard. “yes, they are.”

―

suddenly, all the peace and comfort aurane had felt during her first week in sunspear dissolved into dust and blown away in the cool evening breeze she loved to feel after the hot days of dorne. the last time she’d been pampered was her last day in king’s landing. her maidens had braided her hair and her sister had applied the sheer cover of make-up to her skin that wasn’t needed very much. during her week, aurane had dressed herself and brushed her own hair and washed her own body, but now, she sat in a chair in front of her mirror with several maidens surrounding her. one was twirling and brushing and braiding her hair, another was powdering her face, and the last was tying the loose strings in the back of aurane’s dress.

why was she so nervous? the night before had been so simple--oberyn showed love and they’d bathed and because he was so understanding, she returned to her chambers where she slept for only two hours.

a maiden giggled. “it’s a wonder, your grace,” she admired. “i sleep only four hours through the night and i always wake up with darkness under my eyes.”

aurane smiled in response and nodded quietly. her dress was the usual white, but behind it was a golden tint in honor of the lannister house, although she knew that dorne wanted nothing to do with their enemies. she looked at her reflection and her mirror and liked what she saw, but despite her beauty and fairness, her fingers absentmindedly began to fiddle with each other.

she sighed fairly and the maidens looked to each other on what to say. the oldest one, who looked about aurane’s sister’s age, stumbled on her words before noting, “i hope you know you look heavenly, your grace,” she leaned down and tucked a strand of hair behind aurane’s ear.

the princess smiled in response before the second maiden spoke, “very heavenly, indeed,” aurane looked back to her reflection and attempted to smile with pride but it came out slightly unhinged. “the prince is a good man. you’re marrying a very good man.”

a knock echoed through aurane’s room as she inhaled deeply, sticking out her chest. the first maiden went to the door and the two other followed suite. aurane did not turn to see who was at the door because she knew, by tradition, it could not be oberyn.

“my lady,” a maiden curtsied before ellaria sand could brush her off.

the older woman bowed her head back and looked to aurane. the sound of her voice, so peaceful and loving and...maternal, piqued interest in the princess and she smiled at the sight of oberyn’s lover. ellaria wore a bright yellow linen dress with golden plating on her shoulders that were attached to more honey-colored pieces of fabric that cascaded down her arms and to the floor. she looked heavenly. “are you ready, lion?”

aurane’s gaze softened and her lips parted.

tags: @ohpedromypedro @zeldasayer @pascalpapi @absurdthirst @cyarikaaa @ithinkhesgaybutwesavedmufasa @pedropascalonline @pedropascalito @pedropascalitofics @honeychicanawrites @otherthingsinhead @wakalas @pedropascalispapi @heavenbarnes @qveenbvtch @foreverlostindreams @forever-rogue @arianawills @liadamerondjarin @pascalisthepunkest

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babyflossy · 4 years

Text

the worst possible day | p.js

pairing: park jisung x reader

requested: yes! requests are still open but due to exams (yikes) they’re coming at a much slower pace :(

summary: when everything possible goes wrong, the one thing you can rely on is finding comfort from jisung

genre/warnigns: fluff, college au i guess, unedited as always

word count: 1.87k

it wouldn't be overexaggerating to say it had been possibly the worst day you had experienced at your time in college. from the moment you were pulled abruptly from your slumber after sleeping through your alarm, it had only gone downhill. the train you took to campus had been delayed, resulting in you being even later. this meant you had to catch the bus instead, which not only took twice as long, but you had to put up with a man standing far too close to you. his breath fanned down your neck and you caught eyes with a woman across the aisle shooting you a worried look. you tried to smile at her but were sure it came out as a grimace.

at first you tried to stay hopeful, reasoning that just because your morning went terribly, it didn't mean your afternoon had to follow suit.

your hope diminished the moment your history professor handed you back your most recent essay, a sympathetic smile on his face at the D written in red ink. the note he had written next to it expressed his disappointment, saying you were usually top of the class and had asked what happened. with regret, you thought back to the night you wrote the essay; hurried typing and rushed plans splayed across your desk after you left yourself a measly two hours to finish it.

looking back, you should probably learn not to trust your luck.

after your history class the only thing you could do was wait for the next bad to thing happen. fate seemed to laugh at you, watching as you tripped over someone's bag, everything in your arms spilling out onto the pavement. everything, including your delicate little phone and you could only watch as it shot the ground, the cracking sound making your heart sink. as expected, a black shattered screen stared back at you, mockingly. you picked up the rest of your things and hurried away, scrunching your eyes to stop the tears from spilling.

donghyuck's mop of hair caught your eye, now dyed a pleasant shade of rose gold. he spotted you nearly straight away, a bright smile on his face as he pushed through a group of people to meet you. "hey, short stack," he called. as he got closer and noticed the sad frown on your face his smile morphed into a mix of concern and surprise, his lips turning downwards. "are you okay? you look like you're about to cry."

you shook your head and painted on what you hoped was a convincing smile. "no, i'm fine. are you meeting up with the guys for lunch?" for the second time in an hour your heart shrank at the look on his face. you could hear his next words.

"we just ate," he offered you a half smile, not missing the way your smile fell once again. "we texted you, but you didn't reply. we figured you ate with someone from your history class." in reality, you were supposed to meet up with chaeryeong but she ditched last minute, gushing about some boy called minho.

"oh, my phone broke," and to distract yourself, "are you going out tonight?"

"yeah i think we're going to that club on the corner near the pizza place," you contemplated it for a moment. the prospect of going out and completely forgetting your terrible day was appealing, but with how your day had gone you would probably break an ankle or get hit by a car. donghyuck watched your inner debate before telling you what he knew would be the deciding factor. "jisung's staying at the dorms, though. something about a test tomorrow."

the smile that information brought to your face was almost laughable to donghyuck.

after finding out you could spend a peaceful night alone with jisung, you thought your day would finally start to improve. thoughts of wrapping yourself in a blanket with him and ordering pizza filled your head as you made your way to your final class. the chemistry lab was filling slowly as you arrived and you rushed in, spotting yeri at your shared bench. she handed you goggles and a lab coat as you dropped your bag and kicked it under the table.

"hey," she greeted, eyes still on the test tube she was already heating, "i texted you earlier to ask if you wanted to come out tonight? girls' night."

yeri handed you the test tube holder and moved on to measuring out the next liquid and you scanned the practical plan quickly. you shook your head, watching as the acid started to bubble "sorry, my phone broke earlier. i have plans tonight but i'll come out next time yeah?"

"yeah, no problem," she shot you a kind smile and you momentarily feel eternally grateful for having such a friendly lab partner. you shot her a smile back and scanned over the list of reactants you would need, making a mental list. "are you doing anything nice– woah, be careful!"

the panic in her voice made your head shoot up from the paper, noticing what she was looking at a fraction of a second too late. the boiling acid bubbled over the top of the tube, spitting the hot corrosive liquid straight onto your hand. you dropped the clamps into the sink and swore loudly, the burning making your eyes swell with tears. she rushed over, grabbing your hand carefully and turning the cold tap on full.

"oh my god, are you okay?" the worry in her voice alerted your professor and she dashed over, concern covering her face. she took your hand from yeri and examined it from under the flow of water. the cold liquid calmed the pain momentarily, leaving only a sharp sting which quickly turned to an intense ache.

"what happened?" your teacher asked, looking at the broken test tube in the sink. yeri explained the acid boiling over and you looked anywhere but at your hand, trying your hardest not to cry. after a few minutes she withdrew your hand and you saw the deep red mark covering it. "luckily the acid wasn't corrosive today, it's just burns from the temperature. i'll wrap it for you, but it doesn't look very bad."

after your hand had been bandaged and you had been fed painkillers for the sting, the teacher agreed with yeri that it was best to let you go home early. due to the time the train was significantly emptier than normal and you managed to get a seat as the train pulled away from the platform. before you even got to the train station you had decided not to go to your dorm, but to jisung's, excited at the prospect of being in his arms.

jaemin let you in, throwing an arm around your shoulder and telling you about his dream girl he met at the campus cafe. you laughed along with him, feeling the tightness in your chest ease just being in your friends' apartment. "jisung's showering but i'll tell him you're here." you hummed in response as he sauntered off again, whistling a tune so cheerful it was obvious his day had been infintely better than yours.

the time waiting for jisung's appearance was spent rustling through their fridge, seeing nothing but a bottle of vodka and a bow of grapes. momentarily contemplating the vodka, your hand swapped over the two before rolling your eyes and picking the grapes. you're not gonna drink away your sadness, y/n, you scolded yourself, picking the shiniest green grape and popping it into your mouth.

down the hall you heard the door to jisung and chenle's shared room open and you rushed to place the bowl down. you had moved too quick, however, and the bowl wobbled on the side of the counter before falling, hitting the floor with shatter, the china splintering outwards. the sight made your eyes water again, but this time you couldn't stop the hot tears from escaping. they clouded your vision and just as another wave escaped, two delicate thumbs came to wipe them away.

when jaemin told jisung his girlfriend had arrived, he hadn't expected to find you stood in the middle of their kitchen, staring at a broken bowl of grapes and crying. the sight was almost laughable, but he prevented himself, stepping over the shattered bowl fragments and taking your face into his hands. "hey, hey, hey," he pulled your chin up to look at him, leaning down to meet your gaze when your eyes didn't stray from the grapes. "why are you crying?"

his words only made you cry harder, twisting your arms and wrapping them tightly around his torso, burying your head in his hoodie. it smelled just like him, you noticed in delight, and the smell calmed your tears slightly.

"i broke the bowl," your muffled voice floated from his chest and jisung dropped his head to rest on top of yours, rubbing his hand soothingly in circles on your back.

"the bowl doesn't matter, y/n," a chuckle vibrated through his chest and the sound offered you more comfort than imaginable. when you finally broke away from his chest, eyeing the damp patches your tears had left he met your watery eyes with concerned ones. "what's really wrong?"

a sigh escaped you, fresh tears threatening to fall as you thought back to your dreadful day. jisung's fingers wiped them away as you explained. "i've had the worst day," he shot you a sad smile. "you know when you have those days where everything that could possibly go wrong, goes wrong? it was one of them. i even spilt burning acid on my hand in chemistry."

his eyes widened comically, pushing your shoulders so he could examine your hands, eyebrows creasing at the thick bandages covering your left one. after insisting you were okay you found yourself wrapped in his arms again, sprawled across the sofa. moments prior, he had held your hands gently as he pulled your shirt off, replacing it with what he coined the 'emotional support hoodie'. as much as you laughed at him, it truly was like wearing a cloud with the way the arms hung low past your hands. as it turns out, spending a whole day trying not to cry was exhausting, and as soon as you rested your head into the crook of his neck, you were asleep.

after your crying-induced slumber, jisung had ordered pizza. the rest of the boys had left already, meaning you and jisung could build a pillow fort in the living room, sure to scare the rest of them when they came home drunk the next morning. you had already promised each other to film them as blackmail, as per usual. the prospect of adding to your video bank of jeno arguing with his reflection was much too appealing to avoid.

movies played on the tv as you waited for them to come home, the two of feeding each other slices and laughing when one of you tried to playfully bite the other. waking up in jisung's arms had felt like the dawn of a new day, even if it was only hours later. the dawn of a very positive, crying-free day.

a/n: really not sure if i like this :/, espically the ending lol

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benscursedkid · 3 years

Text

*title from the song of the same name by ricky montgomery and based on this post from @weirdcursedvaultkid*

i | ii | iii

he’s singing, "she's a, she's a lady, and I am just a line without a hook"

year one

Everything is bigger than she imagined.

The walls are much higher, the tables longer, Dumbledore’s podium taller. She takes a look up to the ceiling and finds that there is no roof. Constellations freckle and connect across the dark expanse of space above her. The number of floating candles about burn brightly enough to trick her eyes into believing that there are even more stars all around her.

She’s trapped somewhere in the middle of the group, surrounded on every side by the anonymous and mesmerized faces of strangers. Rowan is nowhere to be found and suddenly she feels very, very alone.

Once or twice she catches herself looking around for Jacob. His familiar bush of messy brown hair and bright sparkling jade eyes. The easy smile he always gave her that made everything feel better.

But he is no longer there.

The reminder of what she’s lost has her head spinning. She can hear her heart pumping in her ears and feels the beat of its rhythm in her temples. Things were supposed to be different. He was supposed to be here—

Something prickles at the edges of her awareness, the burning phantom of a stare somewhere just off to the side of her peripheral. Slowly, her head turns to her left, her focus still settled on the mass number of identical black shoes. Whoever is staring at her doesn’t move, nor do they look away, and Rebekah chances a glance up to their eyes.

Not a lot registers for her once she finally sees his face. The only thing she can focus on is the warmth that radiates from him in gentle waves. Thankfully, she does not have to crane her head up very far to look him in the eye and for a moment she forgets why she was afraid.

Because he is even more so.

Shakily, he turns away and goes back to trying not to catch anyone’s attention. His cheeks burn a soft shade of red and Rebekah thinks that, just for a minute, maybe things won’t be so bad.

Another name is called from the platform the tall woman stands on, but Rebekah’s mind is elsewhere and it sounds fuzzy on the ends. She does not catch it. However, her attention piques when the boy moves.

His steps up to the chair are hesitant, small strides. His eyes flicker about for a few seconds before he screws them shut. Gryffindor, the hat says, earning it many a baffled expression from its audience, the boy included. And unlike many others, the boy does not rejoice. He simply shuffles his way to the table where he is greeted with a number of questioning looks and a handful of upturned noses.

Gryffindor, the hat had declared with certainty—and dare Rebekah wonder: are hats able to smirk?—it's got to be Gryffindor.

It’s a joke that I got put in Gryffindor, the boy—Ben—said to her later the next day, his eyes low and downcast. I’m scared of everything.

Everyone is afraid of something, she offered as what she hoped was a small piece of solace. He regarded her as if he did not believe her words to be true, but was hopeful enough to imagine it anyway. And as he did, the corners of his lips curved up into a wishful smile.

The sight itself washed over Rebekah like a remedy, lightening her shoulders and easing the lump in her throat in a single swift movement. She smiled back, transforming the one on his face into something much more dazzling, yet still soft around the edges as his eyes shone a dark amber in the morning sun.

It was then that she realized that was the first time she had smiled since stepping into this large and looming and grandiose castle. All because of someone else's dream.

She hoped, then, to make a habit out of it.

Ben crouches down to be level with Rebekah as she sits on the lip of the fountain, his eyes roaming her figure for any sign of pain or injury. His own qualms forgotten, he no longer seems to notice the ripening bruise on his own arm or the gathering crowd around them.

Are you okay? He asks carefully, his brows furrowed into a knot and an exaggerated frown pulling at his mouth. She didn’t really hurt you, did she?

Rebekah blinks for a moment, her thoughts drawing a quick blank at the sight of his worry. Around them, she can hear the whispering of students who care little for hiding it. They point and gossip and Rebekah isn’t sure if they’re talking about her or them but either way, it makes her skin crawl.

Concern flashes across his eyes for a moment before he looks around and remembers himself, his cheeks pinking a little to match hers. His hand ghosts over her forearm as if unsure where to put it or what to do with it.

Don’t worry about them, Ben whispers almost to himself, but just loud enough for her to share in the secret. His hand balls into a fist before finally settling back to his side and Rebekah isn’t sure if she’s thankful or disappointed. You were amazing.

This does not do well for her fair complexion as his words only deepen the blush on her face and she quickly drops her gaze in an attempt to hide it. A beat passes and neither of them speak. Idly, she wonders where Rowan has gone off to, before Ben opens his mouth to respond.

His voice is hushed and soft, light and mostly air as he informs, They… they aren’t saying anything mean. In fact, they seem happy that you knocked Merula down a peg. At this, Rebekah shrinks a little, their blatant attention burning holes into her skin. Ben hesitates before shifting in his place to block her from view.

You don’t like the attention? He guesses to which Rebekah can only nod. Ben returns the gesture, but his shoulders seem to loosen up at her answer.

He goes for what she thinks is meant to be a comforting smile. It works. Me neither.

A spot on her elbow tingles with heat as she looks back up to face him, only to realize that his hand has moved from its place by his side to settle there instead. From the way he relaxes slightly as he continues in his original task of making sure she is okay, Rebekah can only assume that he has not noticed. She decides not to comment on it.

It seems, though, that their short moment of serenity was not meant to last very long as a flash of long, flimsy black robes and tiny circle rimmed glasses peek into her vision as their charms and potions professors make their way over to the group of gathered first years.

At once, Rowan throws her an apologetic look from her place by Flitwick’s side, clearly having been the one to alert him. Rebekah shakes her head in a silent display of forgiveness as her and Ben stand to greet them.

Somehow, Rebekah finds that she feels strangely complacent. She helped her friend today and for that she will never apologize.

His grip turns his knuckles white as the wind rakes its fingers through the short strands of his hair. Even over the whistling of the wind in his ears, Ben can hear the rapid beating of his own heart in his chest, though it feels suspiciously closer to his throat for his liking.

How is it possible that he is flying? Briefly, his mind flickers back to the cartoon witches he used to see plastered in storybooks. At once, he is reminded again that this new world is not the ‘fabrication of his own overactive imagination’, as his parents used to tell him when he complained about the ghost in the attic.

Faintly, the sound of excited clapping drifts up to him and instinct forces his eyes back open. Anxiety is quick on his heels as he immediately finds himself looking down to the ground below him, but something else stands out against the stark green backdrop of grass.

Rebekah stands, the only student to remain on the ground, her head craned upward to peer at him. Her eyes, kind and curious and sparkling as though home to their very own galaxy, are trained intently on him.

She follows his every movement against the wind, every turn of his broom is caught with enthusiasm. The Ravenclaw pulses with pure and unadulterated excitement and Ben finds himself drawing energy from her and she jumps on her feet, waving up at him with the widest smile Ben has ever seen adorn her face. Strands of her ink black hair fly into her eyes, but she does not seem to mind, content with simply cheering him on.

In that moment, it does not escape Ben’s notice that the sight, though infinitely welcome, only serves to quicken his heart rate until it begins to race even faster than before.

His eyes have gone starry, glossed over in faint astonishment as Rebekah tells her story. She can feel her lips moving, her vocal cords vibrating in tandem, but as she looks at him she finds that she cannot hear herself speak.

Her cheeks feel hot.

She finishes and Ben grins, it’s giddy and goofy and Rebekah can’t help but offer him one of her own in return.

Wow, he whispers, his eyes glued not to the vast galactic sky that they can afford to see clearly in their place up in the astronomy tower, but to her. I can’t believe Dumbledore actually took special notice of a first year!

Rebekah chuckles and rubs at her wrist bashfully. It’s not like I gave him much of a choice, she whispers back.

At this he simply shakes his head and strangely, he looks as if there’s nowhere else he’d rather be. His smile does not falter, his big brown eyes bright. No, he says, It’s impossible not to notice you.

She’s not ready for it to end.

She’s not ready to return home, to a still and empty house where her parents never laugh and no one ever smiles. She does not want to walk to her room everyday where she has to pass by Jacob’s, untouched and void and not at all the same. She’s not ready to see their faces or look into their eyes and be struck again with the realization that she is not enough.

She’s not ready to continue in a life without her brother.

But as the train whistles in her ears and the breeze blows flower petals into her hair, she knows the choice is not hers. Slowly, she shuffles her way off the platform and wraps her arms delicately around Rowan, the dark strands of her hair tickling her nose.

Her friend grins so wide Rebekah fears her cheeks will sting and giggles out a last goodbye, accompanied with a merry promise to keep in touch. A voice sounds from behind her and Rowan waves her off, skipping over to her family with a youthfulness Rebekah has never seen in her before.

She watches them go with a growing lump in her throat.

She checks her watch.

“Rebekah.”

This time, his voice is small, yet as it curls around the syllables of her name she finds that it is no less affectionate than it always is. The girl turns, her eyes catching his for what feels scarily like the last time.

“Ben—”

He grins when he hears her as if on nothing more than instinct alone and the thought twists a smile onto her own lips as well.

“—I was wondering if I’d see you.”

“Well, here I am.”

“There you are.”

The sun shines above them and under its gracious attention, Ben’s hair glimmers a more golden color as it flickers in the breeze, landing softly against his forehead. Had Rebekah been older or more poetic, she might have equated it to something like gold or freshly bloomed daffodils.

But alas the thought escapes her.

He clears his throat.

“I don’t think I’ll have much downtime when I get back. Mum and Dad will probably have enough questions to last them until the summer is over, but…” His cheeks pink and he rubs at the back of his neck. “I’ll write to you,” He promises. “When I can.”

And with that, he does his best to lift his chin and walk away, leaving her behind. Yet, as she watches him embrace a woman with white-blonde hair and a tall man with a smile just like his, Rebekah can’t seem to muster a single dour thought. She only smiles and waves at him as he stalks away even if he is no longer paying attention.

A gust of hot hair rushes over him as his father opens the door to leave, but something itches at the back of his head and he turns around.

But she is already gone.

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drabbledragon · 4 years

Text

Linktober: Companions

I’m already a few days behind for the daily prompts but fear not, because I will end up doing all the prompts even if it takes me into November. Anyways, please enjoy this 5K fic that I had way too much fun on.

AO3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26749021/chapters/65599177

Summary: There were little differences here and there between each one of the Links, but not quite as little when it came to companions.

Warnings: Swearing

Day 5: Companion

“So Sky, who’s your bird friend over there?”

The Hero of Skies tried to suppress his giggles as he met Twilight’s inquisitive eyes with his own sparkling ones, “ This is Red, my Loftwing!”

The other heroes looked curiously at the large bird currently pinning their friend to the ground and licking his face much like a dog would do to its owner. The creature was easily the size of one of Wild’s bears, and its feathers were a brilliant red that shone even in the midnight moon’s glow; as Wind had described it before, it was practically like a big red seagull. Sky’s companion was a complete surprise to them, and any similarities between the amiable fairies and gentle horses the other Links had met were not found with the excitable Loftwing.

Sky’s Zelda, whom the group affectionately agreed to call ‘Sun’, smiled cheerfully at the pair.

“He missed you a lot, you know,” She claimed, and there was a tender quality to her voice. “ Ever since you left with your friends all those weeks ago, Red’s been flying all over the place looking for you.”

Sky ran a gentle hand over the bird’s beak. “ Awww, I missed you, too, Red! But I’m here now, so we should be able to spend a lot of time together tomorrow!” And the bird cooed in response, nudging his head carefully against the Skyloftian’s chest. The affectionate relationship shared between the Guardian Bird and Skyloftian was heartwarming, and a few of the heroes couldn’t help but smile at the scene.

“Speaking of which,” All faces turned to Time. “ We really should be getting some rest. I doubt there’ll be any monsters this high up, so we should be able to sleep easy tonight, and then we can use the following days to catch up on things we’ve been meaning to do.”

“The old man’s right,” Four chimed in. “ Our swords and shields can definitely use a repair or two, so if there’s any good place to do it, then it’s here.”

Sun excitedly clapped her hands together and beamed. “ So then what are we waiting for? Let’s get you guys inside! Link can of course get into his dorm all by himself, but the rest of you,” She nodded her head towards the remaining heroes, “ will need a place to sleep! Lucky for you eight, four rooms at the Knight Academy just opened up!”

So under the midnight moon, Sun snuck the rest of Hylia’s chosen heroes from the center of Skyloft to the aforementioned building with barely a sound, her father sleeping upstairs completely unaware.

________________________________________________________________

It was a peaceful night’s sleep for Legend, which was very rare considering the adventures he’s been on. His dream was nothing special: just him sailing across the ocean, small waves lapping at the wooden bottom of his raft and the salty air kissing his cheeks. The gentle lull of the sea was soothing, and he floated along without a care in the world, the calling seagulls from above reminding him of a place he knew long ago.

He yelled out and fell from his bed when a sudden caw filled the small dorm; apparently, all the commotion was enough to wake up a sleeping Hyrule and have him cry out all the way from the other side of the room.

"Hylia fuck!" The Hero of Legend shouted to no one in particular, and once he gathered his bearings, he looked up towards the window and glared at the Crimson Loftwing staring at him. “ What the hell do you think you’re doing?!”

He impatiently rose to his feet and pushed past the bird’s head in order to get a better view of outside: the sky was barely the shade of its usual blue, with the sun just a speck of light over the horizon. His fingers dug deep into the wooden frame beneath him.

“Motherfucker,” He cursed, and he looked the bird right in the eye when he said, “ You woke me up and it’s not even seven in the morning!”

The Loftwing only tilted his head in response.

“Maybe something’s wrong.” Hyrule guessed. With a tired rub of his eyes, he brought his attention to the creature and asked, “ Is there something wrong, Sky’s Loftwing?”

The veteran scoffed. Him and Hyrule may be from the same timeline, but they could act so different at times.

After a few tantalizing seconds, the bird simply chirped back and started to tug excitedly at the sleeves of Legend’s tunic.

“Ugh, I knew it! This thing just wants to play!” He groaned out, and now that he knew the real reason behind the Loftwing’s frenzied actions, he spared no mercy in trying to push the creature back. However, shove and jab all that he might, but Sky’s companion was still a powerful creature with tons of raw strength on its own, while his opponent was nothing but a Hylian that relied heavily on magic.

But that Hylian was in luck, because while a majority of Legend was off fighting against a bird twice his size, one of his hands was busy scrambling across the floor, looking for an item that he knew would make him the victor in this losing battle.

Come on, he knew it was here - aha!

He shoved his hand into his item bag closer and took out the first thing that he was able to grasp. His Ice Rod! Perfect!

With a simple swipe of his weapon, four ice blocks were summoned and shattered across the room’s walls with a few thuds. The feathered intruder squawked and reared his head back in surprise, and while the opportunity was still at hand, the Hero of Legend rushed over to the opened window and shut it closed; then, after a quick moment of thought, swiped his Ice Rod across the sill in order to trap the opening in an ice block.

He stepped back and huffed out a breath. That should be enough to keep that thing away. The veteran stood back with bated breath, confident that his trick was sure to work, but knew that the goddess had a way of crushing his dreams just for fun; but as one second became ten, and ten seconds became sixty, he felt his shoulders gradually relax with the knowledge that he had won, and that he could now resume his peaceful dream in the lull of ocean waves with no red oversized Cucco to be found.

“Finally, that stupid bird is gone.”

But his hopes were dashed when a sudden incessant pecking began on the other side of the walls, specifically over the headboard of his bed. He dropped his head into his hands and nearly sobbed.

That’s it, he couldn’t do this anymore; he lost.

With a low hang of his head and a pathetic shuffling of feet, Legend dragged himself back to his bed and tugged a pillow over his head, trying vainly to block out a sound that couldn’t be stopped.

Hyrule could only nervously laugh at his predecessor’s predicament.

________________________________________________________________

It seemed to be a perfect morning for Warriors today.

He had gotten up at his usual time, feeling well - rested despite arriving on Skyloft at midnight, and was able to have the men’s restroom all to himself. He was intent on freshening up his appearance just for the sake of his walk down to the center of the island. He hadn’t gotten a chance to properly explore the place since the first time they arrived in Sky’s era: for the most part, the group usually ended up in an area that the Skyloftian would call ‘the Surface’, and despite how ominous it seemed at first, Warriors had come to learn that it was just any part of Hyrule that was not floating on an island millions of miles in the air.

Although now that he thought about it, it would make sense for the people of Skyloft to give the land beneath them such a foreboding name: it would be enough to deter adventurous Hylians from jumping off the island just for the sake of their curiosity, and with tales passed down about the Goddess giving the Skyloftians guardian birds to protect them, one cannot help but fear that there’s danger lurking just beyond the clouds, demons ready to slay any person that steps into their territory.

Warriors chuckled. He supposed Legend calling the Hero of Skies ‘Birdbrain’ every now and then was starting to make sense.

He paused when his hand grabbed for his hairbrush but only met dead air instead. The captain pursed his lips. That’s funny, he could have sworn he took his hairbrush out of his item bag already.

Oh well, no matter. He would just simply open his item bag and get - …

… which was also gone.

Alright, there’s no way that could’ve happened. He definitely brought all his things into the men’s restroom as soon as he walked in, all safely stored in the item pouch that hung securely across his belt. The belt was neatly folded on his tunic so - he ducked beneath the counter to look into one of its many cabinets - it has to be there with his other clothing, right?

He startled at the sound of a caw and accidentally banged his head on the top of the cabinet.

He rubbed a careful hand across the bump that he was sure was starting to form. Damn, that’s going to hurt for the rest of the day.

“Ah, Sky’s Loftwing,” He greeted the bird with a pleasant smile. “ It’s a pleasure to see you so early in the morning.”

The creature amiably chirped back.

With a swift nod to his friend’s companion, the captain was ready to crouch back down and begin his search anew for his missing item’s bag; well, that is until he heard a clatter of bottles beside him.

“Hey!” He called out, and the bird, which he so graciously greeted before, paused to regard him with an innocent look. Warriors nearly scoffed: as if an innocent look could make him forget that he had caught the Loftwing stealing his shampoo bottle red - handed. Without an inking of hesitance, the bird quickly pulled his head back out through the window like a gopher going back into its hole.

The Hero of Warriors scrambled over to the window frame and sharply gasped at the sight laid before him; There, on the dew - covered grass, were all the things he had recently lost: his hairbrush, his item bag, his shampoo bottle, his conditioner, his hair gel, all neatly placed in a pile. He frowned and looked to the bird curiously tilting his head at him. The Loftwing had been taking his things while he wasn’t looking.

“You little thief.” Was all the Hylian said before pulling back and hurriedly making his way to the bathroom’s entrance. He would get his things back from outside, and once he was done with that, he would immediately go to Sky and give him an extensive lecture on how he needs to keep his Loftwing in check. He was about halfway through the door when he heard a sudden slip of fabric across wood.

“No no no no!” He cried out as he immediately reached for his blue scarf. He locked the piece of cloth in an iron grip as if it was his lifeline. With a steely gaze that could make the most disobedient of soldiers fall in line, he snarled, “ You let that go right now!”

But the Loftwing disobeyed, and if anything, only pulled harder on his end of the scarf.

The captain gritted his teeth when he heard the creature give out a successive line of guttural caws. Was this thing laughing at him? Was this bird so ignorant to believe that Warriors’s scarf was just a toy he could use to play tug - o - war with? The audacity of this creature to believe that such a well - trained captain of the Hyrulean Army was willing to sacrifice the thing he held most dear to his heart just for this bird’s own sick satisfaction. But as time ticked on, he could feel the very fabric slipping from his grasp, and his heart nearly lurched in his throat when he heard the telltale sign of cloth ripping.

All at once, the fight left his body and he slumped on his feet, but a large part of his very soul refused to let go of his prized scarf. Like a fish being torn from the water with a fishing rod, the upper - half of his body was pulled through the window, only stopping when the rest of him got snagged on the wooden sill.

There he lay, completely and utterly helpless as the bird paraded around with the captain’s treasured scarf hanging loosely from its mouth like it was the spoils of a battle; and as if to make matters worse, a pair of women passing by briefly glanced at him and couldn’t help but laugh at his predicament.

Warriors thunked his head uselessly against the exterior of the Knight Academy. He would most certainly be having a long talk with Sky.

________________________________________________________________

“Vio, how did you lose a sword of all things?”

Said counterpart of Four let out a frustrated sigh for the umpteenth time. Annoyed violet eyes met concerned green ones as he said, “ For the last time, Green, I don’t know. Maybe Blue hid it somewhere or something.”

“Me!? I was busy working on Time’s and Twilight’s swords so why the fuck would I want to touch any of your stuff!?”

“Maybe because you like causing trouble? I don’t know, you really just do things without reason.”

“Why you little -”

Green raised his hands up in an attempt to break up the fight. “ Okay, okay, it doesn’t matter who did it. We just need to focus on finding it before someone notices that we split.” He shrugged his shoulders. “ I mean, how hard can it be to find one part of the Four Sword?”

“Well it depends on what Blue did with it.”

“Vio, shut up! You know I had nothing to do with this!”

“Hey guys! I think I found a clue!” Three heads turned to where they heard their red counterpart call out, and two out of the three faces scowled when they saw Red excitedly holding a bunch of red feathers in his hands.

Vio had to resist the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose. “ Red, finding feathers isn’t going to help us find my Four Sword.”

“Well what about the bird up there?”

And when three heads turned once more to the tree hanging just over their red counterpart, all three of them startled at the sight of a large bird pecking idly at Vio’s sword.

“Wait, that’s Sky’s Loftwing, right?” Green realized. Seriously, that thing was huge; how did they not notice it before? He shook his head and cupped his hands around his mouth as he shouted out, “ Hey, my brother needs that sword back!”

With a lift of his head, the bird regarded each of Four’s counterparts with a curious stare, the whole ordeal seeming to take long, agonizing seconds. Green furrowed his brows. What was Sky’s companion doing? Trying to process what he had said? Sizing them up? It was really just a mystery that couldn’t be solved with the four counterparts’ lack of understanding of Loftwings.

And just as unexpected as Vaati being released from the Four Sword, the bird took off without warning, Vio’s sword firmly clutched in his claws.

The violet version of Four gawked indignantly, and he was running after his sword before he was even able to register it. His feet pounded the ground like an angry Lynel and his whole being tensed with the knowledge that if he didn’t get his weapon back, he would be the one who’d have to explain to the Links why there were four different Fours. His hand reached greedily once he was within range of the bird’s claws, and in a desperate attempt, he leapt off the ground and held onto the hilt of the sword like his life depended on it. He startled when he felt a sudden grip on the back of his tunic.

“Vio, are you fucking crazy?! You could’ve just plummeted to your death right there!”

And so with Blue’s exclamation, Vio looked down, and he felt his stomach drop: there he was, feet dangling towards the fluffy clouds below him, covering a gruesome and deadly drop; the other three quarters of Four had saved him by holding onto each other and forming some ironic chain to anchor him near the ground, and he just hoped that chain would last long enough for him to retrieve his sword. Vio shouted over the wild flapping of the Loftwing caught in midair, “ I’m not letting go until I have my sword back!”

“Really?! You care more about that sword than your own life, Vio?!”

“Why don’t we just ask the bird nicely? That could work!”

“Why are you always pulling dumbass stunts like this?!”

Maybe Blue was right on that last one, but Vio absolutely refused to just give his sword away. It was the Four Sword for crying out loud! The former Picori Blade! A gift from the Minish that he swore he would protect no matter the circumstances, and he’d be damned if he lost a legendary sword to something so idiotic as an oversized bird. He strengthened his grip on the weapon; he wasn’t going to let go.

And all at once, he finally felt the tension leave from his sword when the Loftwing finally let go, causing him to fall listlessly through the air - well, he would have if it wasn’t for his three other counterparts anchoring him to the solid ground of Skyloft. The pressure created by the fabric of his neck was almost enough to choke him.

“You’re really heavy, Vio,” Whined Red

“Yeah, you need to get off your lazy ass and stop talking to Shadow all the time,” Scolded Blue.

“Can we just touch our swords together and get this over with?” Sighed Green.

________________________________________________________________

The sky was a brilliant blue this morning, and it was perfect weather for a certain champion and ranchhand to play with a certain Skyloftian’s Loftwing.

Wolfie rounded the corner and bounded across the length of the platform gracefully, causing the Crimson Loftwing to squawk in pleasant surprise and changed direction accordingly. Over the past few hours, the wolf and Loftwing had been locked in a playful combat of tag, chase, tug - or - war, and really anything else the Hero of Twilight could think of. It was a pleasant experience, and allowed the Ordonian to enjoy some much needed fun, a thing he honestly didn’t think he would miss once he left for another adventure.

Twilight led the Loftwing to a nearby tree and trotted to a stop, taking on his Hylian form once more as he approached Wild.

“Y’know this guy’s like a big ol’ dog? ‘Likes to play around and cuddle and everything!” The Ordonian explained with hands excitedly thrown in the air. As if to emphasise his point, the large bird came over and affectionately nestled into the crook of the Hylian’s neck, causing the latter to giggle.

The champion snorted and rolled his eyes. “ Only you would compare a Loftwing to a dog. Now,” He turned his attention to the swords laid neatly on the ground and tipped his head thoughtfully. “ Which one of these should I get rid of?”

As if comprehending the hero’s strife, the bird pattered over to the line of weapons, grabbed onto a Windcleaver, and tossed it towards one of the landing platforms. The piece of metal clattered uselessly against the wood before inevitably falling off Skyloft.

Wild pursed his lips at the events before shrugging nonchalantly. “ Well I guess that settles things.”

Twilight scratched at a spot under the Loftwing’s neck and frowned, “As much fun as Red is, he can be really vicious at times: like just this morning, I nearly got a claw to the chest when the guy was trying to get some food off my plate.”

“But a lot of animals work the same way, right? They like to mess around and play and stuff like that but when things get exciting, they tend to go a little overboard. Plus you said it yourself: Red’s just a ‘big ol’ dog’, so it’ll only make sense for him to act like one, too.” Judging by the deadpan look he received, Twilight probably wasn’t very amused with Wild’s mockery of his accent.

“Sure, but there’s a fine line between playing and actually hurting someone. I mean, me and the bird were just messing around a couple of minutes ago but he nearly took my head off when he was switching directions; he could’ve really hurt me if I wasn’t so used to dodging swords and clubs all the time.” The ranchhand casted a worrying gaze towards the Knight Academy. “ I just hope Sky’s not the one to let Red do whatever he wants.”

The champion rose to his feet and stretched. “ I’m sure it’s fine: Sky might be a softy and all, but he knows when to put his foot down when he needs to.”

The Loftwing immediately perked up at the sight of Wild moving and quickly scurried over to give the Hylian a playful jab. The latter grimaced and pushed against the bird’s beak.

“Sorry, Red, but I got some things to do. Maybe we can play later.”

But the bird simply ignored his words and jabbed him again, this time more forcefully.

“Seriously, quit it.” He swatted harmlessly towards the bird. “ I need to go shopping for a new shield.”

And Twilight also stepped in and goaded at the Loftwing with a bright smile, “ C’mon, Red, let’s go play chase again!” As if to illustrate his point, he shifted back into his Twili form and wagged his tail; but his attempt was futile, because the Loftwing was still insisting that Wild should play with him.

Finally, after the ninth refusal, Red had had enough. Without warning, the Loftwing had spread his great wings and took to the sky, all the while locking the Hero of Wilds in his tight grip. The moment was nearly imperceptible, but Twilight was able to catch a brief glimpse of his charge’s surprised face, and that in itself made Twilight terrified.

The wolf immediately bounded from the scene. He disregarded the frightened cries he received from the numerous Skyloftians he passed, and he did his best to keep sight of his charge and his friend’s companion; but their forms were but a speck in the sky, and unlike the Loftwing, he only had so much land to run on.

Hylia, what should he do?! The Loftwing’s soaring through the sky, travelling at a speed ten times faster than him, and he’s stuck on a measly island that’s barely bigger than Ordon Village! He supposed he could just use his Gale Boomer to knock the bird off course, but that would mean putting both the Loftwing’s and Wild’s lives in danger, and that’s the last thing he wanted to do; he hated to think of how quickly their bodies would plummet to the ground if the Guardian Bird couldn’t recover in time. Maybe he could ask one of the Skyloftians to retrieve his charge? Sky did briefly mention something about there being guards here of some sort. But Twilight didn’t have time for that! He had the instinctual feeling that if he took his eyes off his friends for even a second, they would surely disappear from his life forever. He mentally knocked a palm against his head. C’mon, Twilight, think!

He nearly toppled over when he came to an abrupt stop. His eyes squinted at a small figure gliding through the sky. Was that …?

It was! There was the former champion, drifting listlessly with his Paraglider like a leaf in a gentle breeze. He was back on the ground in a matter of minutes, and Twilight wasted no time in shifting forms and pulling his protege into a hug.

He was sure Wild was calling him a mother hen by now.

The Hero of Twilight pulled back after a few seconds and scolded his protege, “ Do you know how dangerous that was?! You could’ve been thrown off into the sky! You could’ve plummeted to your death in a matter of a minute! What would I even tell the Old Man?!”

“Um, that it’s not my fault?”

“It’s not your - !” He paused.

Wait, it wasn’t Wild’s fault. It was Sky’s Loftwing that had taken his friend into the sky without prompt, all for the sake of wanting to play with him. Wow - he raised his brows - Wild actually didn’t do anything wrong this time.

He supposed he needed to talk to Sky later.

________________________________________________________________

“Do you think I should tell Aryll about the Gerudo people we met in Wild’s Hyrule?”

“Of course.”

“And tell her about the giant Molduga we fought?”

“I don’t see why not.”

“Are you gonna tell Malon about the same things?”

“Hmm...” Time thoughtfully tapped his quill against the paper, “ I’m not sure; I have a few other things I want to tell her about first.”

There were a lot of things the Hero of Time wanted to tell his wife: what the different Hyrules were like, how the boys were doing, what new things he’s seen - anything interesting, really. He would just need to choose topics that wouldn’t bore Malon - he knew how quickly disinterested she got when it came to anything regarding the royal families and the surrounding civics. She really was just a simple farmer who wanted to live a peaceful life.

Time pressed his lips together. Maybe he should get her a Loftwing statuette like the one he’d seen on Sky’s bookshelf. They really weren’t the type of couple to give each other cheesy gifts like that but now that he considered it, he should be doing a little more personal shopping. It would really be a shame if his adventure ended and he had nothing to remember the other Links by.

He was pulled out of his thoughts when a piece of paper was nearly shoved into his face.

“Do you think this looks okay?” The sailor said, pointing to a crudely drawn Molduga in the bottom - right corner of the sheet. “ I don’t think I got the color right but it does look like the same thing we saw a couple days ago, right?”

Yes, the color was a bit off and the size of the creature’s jaw was too small and the spines were barely protruding out of its back but Time wouldn’t dare tell any of that to the young boy.

“It looks great.” He warmly smiled, and he felt his heart lighten at seeing Wind beam.

It had become a weekly tradition for Time and Wind to sit together and write letters to their loved ones. It wasn’t unusual to find the two staying up well into the night with a quill in hand and paper on table, or find them chasing down the postman so that he could somehow move through eras and deliver their letters. It was such a small little hobby they had, but they both loved it immensely and had formed a strong bond because of it.

The sound of a distant ‘caw’ drew both of their attention to the sky, and Time could’ve sworn that Wind’s eyes shone with a brilliance that rivaled that of the sun’s. The Crimson Loftwing’s shape was barely distinguishable from their spot, but it seemed to excite the young sailor all the same.

“Woah! I definitely gotta draw Aryll a picture of that!” And so the young hero did, immediately producing a red crayon from his bag and beginning to draw the basic outline of the creature.

But Time’s gaze still remained locked on the creature, good eye struggling to track it due to the speed the thing was travelling at. Wait, was that Loftwing …?

He didn’t even get a chance to brace himself when the aforementioned creature suddenly blew past them in a haste, leaving a massive gust of wind in its wake ... and along with that gust of wind went all of their papers. The old man didn’t think him and Wind could stand up any faster.

“Ah! My letters!” Was all the sailor said before he took off in a mad sprint, his speed probably on par with Wolfie’s. Time was already along with him before he was even able to register it.

The two heroes weaved their way through Skyloft as they chased the papers down like a pack of hungry wolves. They winded their way through dirt paths and tall buildings, and only Time was courteous enough to mutter out a quick apology to those poor citizens they had nearly bumped heads with. Their chase seemed futile: the neverending breeze on the island seemed to drag their papers further and further away like leaves caught in a strong gust of wind, and it was only a matter of time until the letters were caught in a downdraft and sent spiraling towards the clouds. The chances of Time and Wind getting their letters back were close to zero.

The Hero of Time nearly toppled over his younger counterpart when the latter suddenly stopped.

“Wait a sec, I can control the wind.”

Time nearly slammed his head against the nearest building. Wind was the Hero of Winds; of course he could control the wind! Why didn’t he bother to think of that?!

After a quick search of his bag, the sailor pulled out his Wind Waker and began to conduct a soothing tune, smiling easily as the direction of the winds started to change. One by one, their letters came floating down to their feet, and before they knew it, weeks’ worth of stories and tales and information were back safely in their grasp.

Time blew out a breath of relief, “ Thank you, Sailor.”

Well, at least their chase was finally over; now it was just a matter of figuring out whose letter was whose. The two gently sat themselves on the ground and began to read each paper’s contents.

“This one says ‘ Dear Malon’ on the top so it’s yours!”

“This one has your sister’s name towards the bottom, so I’ll put it here.”

“There’s something about horses and cows on this one, so I think it belongs to you!”

“And this one’s about palm trees and oceans, so I believe this one is yours.”

“Here’s one about when we were back in my Hyrule!” But then Wind suddenly frowned as he reread the letter. He did his best to suppress his laughter when he said, “ Wait, you don’t know how to spell ‘seagull’?”

Time had to resist the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose. He really didn’t have the patience to tell him about growing up in a forest completely composed of illiterate children.

________________________________________________________________

When Sky finally woke up, it was to eight annoyed faces looking directly at him.

“Woah, what are you guys doing up so early? It’s only -” He squinted past the window in his room, “ - noon!”

Time, taking a deep, calming breath, began in a levelled tone, “ Sky, we need to talk about -”

“We need to talk about your Goddess - damned bird!” And Legend was quick to shatter everyone’s barely - held composure. “ You know that thing woke me up at seven a.m.? What do I look like?! A farm boy?!”

“And he nearly ripped my scarf! That bird has no regard for prized possessions!”

“He took Wild for a joyride! An unneeded joyride.”

“I mean, it wasn’t that bad waking up at seven; sometimes I get up earlier than that but that’s only when I’m being chased down by monsters.”

“Vio almost lost his fucking sword because of that mutant Cucco!”

“Wait, what’s a ‘Vio’?”

“Did you guys know that the Old Man can’t spell ‘seagull’?”

The Hero of Skies drew his brows together at the varying complaints, “ Aw, Red really caused you guys that much trouble? I know he can be a little rough at times but he’s usually not that bad.”

And as if summoned purely by name, Sky’s Loftwing popped his head through the only window in the room and cuddled into his owner’s shoulder.

“See what I mean? He’s really friendly! Maybe he just got a little bit excited with all you guys here and wanted to play.”

But none of the other heroes listened. From terrible bedheads to torn scarves to crumpled letters, each one of the Links had their own pile of evidence proving that his Loftwing was anything but.

Between the fairies and horses and various other companions the heroes have had, Sky’s Loftwing was truly the strangest.

#linkeduniverse #hero of skies #hero of legend #hero of hyrule #hero of warriors #hero of four swords #hero of wilds #hero of twilight #hero of time #hero of winds #fanfic #linktober2020

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mysticnfantastic · 4 years

Text

This is a commission I did for @lynettethemadscientist! It’s a Reader x Zen x Jumin oneshot. (~6,100 words)

If you’re interested in supporting me, here’s my Ko-fi: Ko-fi.com/nadzieja_ewelina (In return for a ko-fi you get a 500 word drabble or scenario of your choice, a shout out on a blog and personalised thank you from me)

If you’re interested in commissioning me, here’s my charges, rules and business email:

https://mysticnfantastic.tumblr.com/post/617234698987601920/writing-commissions [email protected]

Now without further ado;

Widow! MC/Reader (female) x (Low-key soft-core Yandere) Jumin x Zen

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Jumin’s POV; Phone in hand, Jumin sighed softly to himself as he texted (Y/N), asking her about her day and whether she’d eaten. His chest clenched as he spoke with her, feeling an unusual...fondness, for her. There was something about her that caused his palms to sweat, face to turn a subtle rose shade, and heartbeat to increase. Jaehee had informed him these were symptoms of ‘romantic affection’. How strange. Indeed, Jumin Han did enjoy speaking to (Y/N). She was a wonderful woman who had intelligence and kindness in her heart, yet spoke her mind with a fierceness Jumin had never seen in anyone else. Most women would fall at his feet and attempt to gain his favour and it was no surprise this was because of his grand wealth. But (Y/N) was different - unlike anyone he’d ever met - he supposed he could compare her to Rika in certain ways, but even Rika paled in comparison to the sheer amazement Jumin internally felt whenever he thought of (Y/N).

Despite his admiration for the woman, there seemed to be a distance between them, imposed by her. She was as cheerful as she was playful when the time was right, but the moment Jumin would attempt to instigate anything romantic she seemed to shy away, hurriedly changing the subject and for the life of him he could not understand why. Was she not interested in him? At the mere thought of this, his heart sunk and he placed the phone down on the desk in front of him, swirling around on his chair, glancing out at the late-night city skyline from his office. In times like these, he couldn’t help but think back to Rika. Was he destined to fall for women who would never be his?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Zen’s Pov A notification sounded throughout the room as Zen reached out to check it, towel around his waist and steam still floating up from his wet skin. He smiled to himself when he noticed that (Y/N) was messaging him. He instantly replied and placed his phone down just quickly enough to change into his nightclothes, his phone once again within his grasp as soon as he was finished and would continue to be held by him until (Y/N) needed to sleep. Usually, he would value his sleep above anyone else’s but if it was for her, he didn’t mind staying up later than he ought to. For (Y/N), even beauty sleep could wait.

(Y/N). Her name sent shivers down his very spine and he felt himself blush at the mere sound of just her name. Never before had he felt like this about anyone, it seemed unreal - as if they were the leading love interests in a movie, destined to fall in love under mysterious and dramatic circumstances. Perhaps he was just too much of a hopeless romantic, but a part of him dreamt of a future where, just maybe, (Y/N) could be with him. Maybe his fantasies would remain simple wishful thinking, but hope blossomed within his chest.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jumin’s POV Golden light shined down upon the party guests from the ceiling above, encasing everything in its glittery gleam, including (Y/N). Jumin stared at her like a man who had never before witnessed the radiant allure of the sun; she took his breath - his very life force - away with a single smile. His heart pounded in his chest and lightheadedness crept into his head as he attempted to clear his throat and conceal the gentle blush that clung onto his cheeks. God above, why did he feel so...nervous, around her? She was...wonderful. She was absolutely perfect - she was the woman with the most awe-inspiring personality, and now it turned out she was also the most stunning woman he’d ever laid his eyes upon. Guilt spilled into his thoughts like dripping ink at the sudden remembrance of the emotions he held for Rika that had been kept tightly locked inside of him in secret from the world because Rika hadn’t been his to love. And now she was dead, he reminded himself, trying to shake the irrational feeling of betrayal. He could not betray someone who was dead, and one who was never his, to begin with.

It seemed, at times, that (Y/N) was the only cure for his troubles. The moment he snapped out of his mental strife and turned his gaze back to her, the concept of Rika faded into obscurity. (Y/N) saved him from reliving the past that he wished to bury behind in the dust. Dark eyebrows furrowed, however, when he noticed a certain snow-haired pest speaking to her. Zen. Taking a deep breath, he glared at the male from a distance, wineglass full of crimson held in his hand as he observed them. What was Zen planning, he wondered? It was no secret to anyone that Zen held affections for his (Y/N) - Jumin froze, staring down into his vermillion reflection in the wine, mentally correcting himself that, no, (Y/N) was not his - as much as he desired her to be. Dark temptation clawed away at him regardless, whispering things he’d never say aloud. No, no...you were your own person, and you would choose who you would want to be with, but Jumin could not help hoping that you shared his romantic sentiments. He already felt the bitter sting of unrequited love once when he’d been forced to watch his best friend almost marry the woman he loved, and the idea of going through that humiliating pain once again made his throat tighten with fear.

Oh, Love, what a fool it made of him.

Zen’s Pov “(Y/N)...” His enthralled voice gained the woman’s attention as she turned around to face him, smiling, but the snow-haired man noticed melancholy hidden away inside her eyes at all times. “Zen.” She greeted politely, nodding her head at him as an acknowledgement of his presence, her hands held together at her front; she was clearly uncomfortable in such a large crowd of people, and did not enjoy the stares of men on her dolled-up figure. He couldn’t blame anyone from being enraptured by her beauty; she reminded him much of the glimmering moon - to be awed, adored and admired. “Y-You, uh,” He cleared his throat, uncharacteristically awkwardly for him, “You look gorgeous tonight.” His compliment caused her to smile weakly, “Thank you, Zen. You look quite handsome tonight, as well.” Hiding his smile was impossible when she complimented him, a cherry-blossom pink coated his cheeks. He could tell from her restless body language she seemed to abhor the staring strangers, and he had a brilliant idea. “Would you like to go to the garden with me for a walk?” For a flicker of a moment, he saw excitement shining in her (e/c) eyes, but this was quickly replaced with fright. “I-I…” She stuttered, sighing softly and shaking her head, “I’m sorry, Zen.” Her tone was colder, now. She was distancing herself from him yet again. “I...have to go use the ladies’ room.” With newly-found speed she left the ballroom into the corridors, not turning back to look at him once.

Dejected, Zen sighed and walked over to where the wines, champagnes and snacks were stationed, deciding a drink would not be bad in this situation. He wondered if he did something wrong; did he offend (Y/N) in some unknown way? Or was he simply too forward with his advances? Did she have no feelings for him at all?

“Looks like your narcissism has frightened (Y/N) away.” Zen internally groaned as he poured himself a glass of champagne, glaring over his shoulder at the dark-eyed man speaking to him, “At least I try to talk to her and socialize instead of staring like a stalker, Trustfund Kid.” A soft growl sounded from Jumin’s throat as he clenched the wineglass in his hand. “Besides,” Zen added, taking a large sip of his champagne, “It isn’t as though she’s been any closer to you than she’s been with anyone else.”

“Hey guys!” Seven’s cheery tone distracted them both from their passive-aggressive semi-argument, waving over to them as he walked over, hands loosely inside his pant pockets. “Why is it that there’s never any honey Buddha chips at these events? The tragedy!” He dramatically lamented, causing Zen to snicker and Jumin to sigh and roll his eyes, drinking his wine silently. Having been a spy, the red-haired hacker was able to pick up on the tension between the two with ease, wondering what happened; this didn’t feel like the typical petty arguments and banter that the two would have, it was more...personal. “What has your eyebrows in a furrow?” He questioned them both, crossing his arms as he leaned against the table in the middle of them, a goofy smile on his face. He was trying to cheer them both up the only way he knew how. He wanted his friends to just...be happy. Be happy like he feared he would never be. “Tell Uncle Seven what’s wrong-” “-Only if you promise to never refer to yourself as ‘Uncle Seven’ ever again.” Jumin quickly cut in, downing the last of his wine and turning to pour himself another glass. Zen laughed softly, but then reminded himself of the situation at hand, and swirled the champagne in its glass, lost in thought. “It’s about (Y/N), isn’t it?” That caught both Jumin and Zen off-guard, as they turned to Seven in bewilderment. “How’d you know?” Zen choked out, almost dropping his glass from the embarrassment. He felt like a lovesick schoolboy when it came to (Y/N). Seven laughed and shook his head, “You both act as though your feelings for her aren’t the most obvious things in the world.”

“Unfortunately,” Seven’s tone contrasted from playful to severe, “I don’t think she’ll be getting involved with either of you.” “Oh?” Jumin’s eyes squinted as he listened to Seven, urging him silently to continue, taking another sip of wine, “Why’s that?” “Oh, she’s a widow-” Seven spoke before thinking, immediately covering his mouth with his hand, wide-eyed and nervous before slouching. “I...should not have told you that.” He decided, regrettably. Turning around, Seven made sure (Y/N) was nowhere in sight before continuing, but the news seemed to shock Jumin who released his hold on the wine glass, causing the crimson to spill and glass to shatter. “Widowed?” Both Zen and Jumin gasped at once.

Zen threw his head back and downed the champagne before taking a deep breath. That was...certainly not what he’d been expecting. He turned to look at Jumin, who seemed more shocked by the news than he did. The businessman cleared his throat and excused himself, leaving the room. For once, Zen couldn’t blame him; he felt faint himself. (Y/N) had been married before; and not only that, she’d been widowed. He couldn’t even begin to imagine the pain that brought with it. To love someone and have them taken away from you by the cruelty of Fate...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jumin’s POV Fingers tapping on his glass desk, Jumin tried to think about work-related matters but found himself unable to focus on anything other than (Y/N) and her status as a widow. If there was one reason as to why she seemed so hesitant to be remotely romantic with anyone, Jumin hadn’t expected this to be it and, frankly, he was having a painfully difficult time adjusting to the information Seven had blurted out at the party.

He picked up the wine glass beside him - he decided since he couldn’t focus on work anyway, he might as well try to relax his nerves with his favourite drink - taking a generous sip of the blood-like substance in order to cope with the torment of his mind. (Y/N) had been married, once. What if her husband were still alive? He likely would have never even met her; and if he had, he knew better than to assume he would’ve had a chance at seducing (Y/N) into leaving him. Yet it made him wonder what type of man he was. The first thought was that he was a good husband, but a twisted aspect of his personality made him hope for the worst - that (Y/N)’s late husband was cruel, abusive, arrogant...and soon he found himself spiralling into a near-obsession with the concept of her dead husband.

Did she still love him? Had she never loved him? Was she a happy bride or neglected, abused? Did he please her sexually, or was their marriage a stale one?

A thousand questions required two thousand answers in order to satisfy Jumin Han and sate his curiosity. Placing the glass down he took his phone and decided to fulfil some favours owed to him by people who had...connections. “Good evening to you, Mr Song*.” He spoke up immediately after hearing the man answer from the other side, “It’s Jumin Han. I assume you know why I’m calling?” Jumin’s voice was cunning, decisive and darker than it perhaps ought to have been. “Mhm. Exactly,” The corners of Jumin’s lips turned up into a smile, spinning around in his chair to face the nighttime city skylines. He spent most of his nights at his office. “I need you to run a thorough investigation on (L/N) (Y/N). Specifically on her relationship with her late husband.” He leaned back against the leather seat and drank in the beauty of a city at night as he spoke, “Brilliant. Goodbye.” He hung up, feeling accomplished. A part of Jumin knew this was wrong to do. He knew that this was (Y/N)’s private life, that she deserved her privacy; but he also couldn’t bring himself to care - not when his sanity felt as though it was hanging on by a thread if he didn’t find out about her previous marriage.

And, more importantly; he needed to find out how to win her heart from a man who was buried six-feet-underground and win against the feelings she felt for him in the past. The investigation was a reasonable step, he was sure she’d understand. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Zen’s POV Pacing around his apartment, Zen tried to think of what to say to (Y/N) the next time he saw her. Should he even tell her he knew? Or keep it a secret? Logically he knew that the moral thing to do was to tell her but a selfish part of him wished to make her believe he was clueless about the status of her marriage (or lack thereof) so that nothing would change. Still, he thought of himself as a man who respected morals, and he knew what the right thing to do was - he had to meet with her and talk. Until now, he believed she was just shy or scared of falling in love - he supposed the latter was true, in a way, but not as he had expected. There was a thought in the back of his mind that spoke to him; What if (Y/N) is still in love with her husband? It was a dreaded thought, but one he understood was possible. In the end, no matter how deep his feelings for (Y/N) ran, he knew that what she suffered through had been a traumatic experience and he was not going to try and force himself into her heart if her heart was eternally closed and beating for a long-gone man. Who was he to try to pry it open? He wanted to, of course - he wanted to try and find a way into gaining her love - but he couldn’t. Not when his mind told him the better option was to communicate with her and ask her if she could ever see him in a romantic light. If all she would ever see him as is a friend, he’d take it, even if it was going to shatter his heart.

Just...as long as he could be a part of her life, he’d be okay.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Meeting with (Y/N) was easier said than done. Here Zen was, preparing for her to come over to his apartment as he laid out some refreshments and tried to soothe his growing nerves. She didn’t know why he wanted to meet with her but he was glad she agreed to come over without much questioning. Were his palms sweating? Oh, God, they were. Taking a deep breath, Zen knew he had to remain calm right now, this was not going to be an easy thing for them to talk about and as much as he may want to make the situation about himself, he had to fight that urge because this wasn’t about him, it was about (Y/N) and the grief of her past. He reminded himself that his feelings didn’t matter in the situation because (Y/N) was her own person and did not have to reciprocate the strong feelings Zen held for her; if she did not want him as he did her, he needed to accept that. It hurt, but he knew he’d have to accept that. The sudden knock on the door caused him to hold his breath as he cleared his throat and opened the door, seeing (Y/N) standing in the hallway and looking as beautiful as ever, with her godlike eyes and perfect (h/c) hair. She never failed to take his breath away. “(Y/N),” he greeted her with an anxious laugh, mentally kicking himself for being awkward, “Come in,” He smiled, trying to mask the inner turmoil he felt and the dread buried deep inside his stomach at the prospect of (Y/N) still loving her dead husband. (Y/N) smiled back and nodded, “Good afternoon, Zen.” Her voice was smooth and polite as her eyelashes fluttered with natural grace. God, he almost blurted out his love for her then and there.

Zen led her inside, gesturing to the sofa in his living room and helping hang her coat in the closet before going to sit beside her, swallowing his fear. Should he just get right to it? Or should he stall, start talking about something else instead and ease into the subject matter? Surely he couldn’t just start with ‘Hey, I know you’re a widow!’

“I-I’ll make us some tea - or coffee, uh…” Zen stood abruptly, running a hand through his long snowy locks and moving his rat-tail over his shoulder to ground himself from stress. (Y/N) blinked in confusion and narrowed her eyes - what was this about? When he asked her to come over she assumed it was simply because he wanted to meet up and just...chat, but now he was acting strangely and - oh….oh no. Her throat tightened as though it was swelling and she felt dizzy as her gaze followed Zen until he was out of the room. Was he going to...confess? She knew that Zen seemed to have feelings for her, she’d noticed it a while back but never tried to lead him on nor encourage it, hoping his crush would eventually cease to exist. She tried to remind herself that she was likely reading into this too much; perhaps Zen was nervous due to another reason and wasn’t about to proclaim his undying love for her as she feared he might. Instinctively, her hand touched a pendant around her neck, fiddling with it and stroking it as a subconscious attempt to ground herself in reality. Closing her eyes, she remembered the day she received this necklace - it’d been a gift from her husband. She didn’t want to break anyone’s heart but knew that she couldn’t accept anyone’s love right now. It’s not that she didn’t want to ever be in a relationship again - but more so that she just couldn’t. The pain of losing the love of her life broke her and the idea of loving anyone else felt filthy. She was married, and though her vows had been ‘till death do them part’, it felt like the act of utmost betrayal to even consider moving on.

Years had passed, but her feelings hadn’t changed. She loved her husband, loves her husband and always will, and getting involved with anyone wouldn’t be fair to that person, regardless of how much she may care for them; her husband was always going to have half her heart for himself, and no one could ever change that.

Zen returned, holding two cups of steaming coffee and placed them down on the table, sitting back down, clearing his throat. “(Y/N), there’s...there’s actually a reason I called you over,” he admitted, heart palpitating as (Y/N) was mentally and physically leaning on the edge of her seat, “Yes…?” She asked, panic building in her voice, “What is it…?” Zen inhaled and exhaled deeply, before his eyes locked with hers, “I know - uh….” He gulped, “I know you were married once.” At first, his gaze avoided (Y/N); too afraid to see her initial reaction, but his eyes were unable to look away from her for too long. She seemed absolutely baffled, gaping like a fish out of water. “S-Seven drank too much and-” He cringed at the words coming out, regretting throwing his friend under the bus like that, but at the moment he was growing quite frantic. (Y/N) didn’t speak for the first few moments, her head down as she tried to gather her thoughts. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell any of you about my marriage sooner-” “-You don’t have to be sorry!” Embarrassed by his exclamation, he corrected himself and steadied his voice, “I mean; it’s a personal matter. If anyone should apologise it’s me, I know I shouldn’t even be talking to you about this because it’s personal but I just felt it necessary for you to know that I know and-” He cursed himself for his inability to shut up.

Zen wasn’t like this usually, but this wasn’t a usual situation - still, he wished he could just shut his mouth before he dug himself into a deeper hole. “Hyon.” He felt her soft hands on his, comforting him. She looked up at him with glassy eyes and a sorrowful smile, “I-It’s okay. I...I just…” Everything felt overwhelming for them both. A single tear fell from her eye and flowed down her cheek and onto the floor below. Then another, and another until (Y/N) was a sobbing mess, desperately trying to force herself to stop crying as she frantically wiped away at the myriad of droplets escaping her. Not knowing what else to do, Zen pulled her into his arms and stroked her head in a soothing motion, cooing to the weeping woman. “I just miss him so much!” Hearing this pierced his heart with a spear, but he said nothing and continued to hold her and comfort her through this breakdown.

How long has she been bottling this in, without anyone to hold her?

Zen didn’t know how long they stayed like that, but it must’ve been at least an hour before the stormy waves calmed into a still ocean. (Y/N) felt emotionally, physically and mentally drained as she pulled away from him, wiping her eyes with her hands and shakily exhaling. “T-Thank you.” she weakly whispered, “I...needed that.” “Of course. I’m...I’m always here for you, okay?” Every word that left his mouth was genuine and honest - even though hearing her speak about her husband made him want to cry himself, he was going to be a good friend to her unconditionally. Especially since she’d been carrying this awful weight around in her soul for so long without anyone knowing. If he could help her to carry that weight by allowing her to rant and mourn, that’s what he was going to do, his feelings be damned.

She spent the rest of that afternoon talking, explaining and describing everything about her past marriage, having several small tearful moments in-between. Zen made sure to be attentive and listened to her to the best of his abilities, being what she needed most; a good friend. At least now he knew that there was no room in her heart for him, and it made him sick to know that he would never have a chance with her, but his own pettiness be damned; (Y/N) was a wonderful woman who deserved happiness and he was going to go to hell and back for her if he could secure it for her.

(Y/N) needed a friend more than she needed a lover, and as much as he desired her romantically, Zen wasn’t about to force himself into her life in a way that would only harm her. He knew he loved her, more than he ever loved anyone before; but she’d already found the love of her life, and though he died, he was irreplaceable. So he was going to keep his feelings a secret for her sake. He could take it. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jumin’s Pov “(Y/N), do come in,” Jumin called as he sat behind his desk, wolfish eyes observing her beauty as she entered, looking around curiously. “Hey Jumin” she responded, sitting down on the chair opposite him, crossing her legs with an air of elegance.

She was so perfect. “What is it you wanted to talk about?” “First,” he spoke, handing her a glass of her favourite drink, “I want us to celebrate.” “Celebrate what?” she asked, a puzzled laugh leaving her lips before taking a small sip of her drink, “How’d you know this was my favourite?” Jumin smirked and pulled out a hefty folder, sliding it over to her. “I found out about your previous marriage during the party,” He casually explained, smiling without a trace of empathy for the situation, “So I decided to do some research of my own.” Any reminiscence of a smile faded as she gasped, “W-What?” He hummed in reply, urging her to look through it. “You see, (Y/N).” He clapped his hands and an intern rushed in with an abundant bouquet of (Y/N)’s favourite flowers, “I have romantic feelings for you.” In his eyes, the confession was perfect. He was surely being suave, was he not? He did practice this confession in his mind several times over, after all.

“Dare I say, I’m in love with you. You’ve enchanted me and I must tell you that you’re perfect for me. Elegant and graceful, immensely beautiful, gentle and confident…” He trailed off, cheeks blushing as his tone deepened, “I want to protect you, (Y/N).”

All the while, the (h/c) female was speechless. How could she respond to this? It was insane!

Jumin, however, took her lack of comprehension to be a sign of success and fortune. Clearly she was so amazed that his confession took her very breath away. “I can’t imagine what it’s like - being a widow, without someone to take care of you and keep you safe from the cruelty of the world,” He continued, and (Y/N) internally wished he would just shut up. “Be mine, (Y/N).” Though as he said it, she couldn’t help but feel as if it wasn’t a plea or confession, but a business proposition bordering a demand. Clearly, Jumin was used to getting what he wanted, and it seemed to be no different in this case. “Jumin-” she spoke up quietly, about to explain that she couldn’t accept but he cut her off, “-I know you’re likely overwhelmed,” He leaned forward, elbows supporting him on his desk and smiling at her with a smugness that didn’t suit him, “But you needn’t be worried. I can provide for you, I promise.” He took the file and opened it, glancing through it and showing her his ‘research’ with a sense of pride she couldn’t comprehend; how could he be so...nonchalant about practically stalking her? About investigating her personal, private past?

“Your marriage, I am aware, was a loving one.” (Y/N) sighed, knowing that she was going to have to let Jumin down easy if she could. “You had a good husband…” She was distraught knowing that he went to such great lengths to learn about her past but understood he didn’t know how to control his feelings for her in a healthy way and was willing to let this situation go after explaining it to him. He seemed to at the very least acknowledge the fact she had a fulfilling, happy marriage and loved her husband dearly.

“But I’m going to be better.”

Just as quickly as she was willing to let him down easy and forgive him for doing this, she suddenly felt enraged, clenching her fists under the table as she glared at him with disdain. He said it as if it was a fact; as though he was going to become her next husband for certain. “Excuse me?” Jumin’s smile felt cruel to her, “I know you loved your husband, (Y/N), and I know that you likely believe you’ll never find anyone better but look at me - “ he gestured to himself, and then around at the magnificent office, “I can give you everything you could ever want. Anything, you name it - you’ll get it.” He spoke with the full belief that he could compete with her husband, and in her eyes he was a true madman. “How dare you, Jumin Han?” Pausing, Jumin’s heart dropped in his chest, “What do you mean?” (Y/N)’s gaze made him feel panicked, for it was full of disgust, “Do you honestly believe that I need someone to ‘take care’ of me? To ‘provide’ for me?” She stood up, grabbing the file and holding it tightly to her chest. “This-” she hurriedly stated, “Is personal! Private! This was not something for you to find out for a little extracurricular project because you were bored and have a crush on me!” Oh, She felt as though she was going to be sick right here on the floor of Jumin’s office. “I loved my husband. I love him still, and I always - ALWAYS - will.” Jumin noticed that she was shaking, and stared at her bewildered, “You don’t get to come in here and try and replace him! You can’t do that!” Tears gathered in her eyes as she sniffled, “You don’t understand what it’s like for me. You just...you just decided investigating me would somehow make me fall right into your arms and forget about my husband entirely? God, Jumin! How clueless could you be?” “(Y-Y/N),” he stuttered out, not having expected her to react so negatively to what he had been certain would be a sure mutual love confession.

Wasn’t this what women wanted? Wealth? Security? Safety? Then why was (Y/N) so against this? What was so good about that dead husband of hers, anyway? “He’s dead.” Jumin’s inability to fathom her feelings was insulting to her, here he was trying to assert his beliefs onto her without a trace of empathy towards her or the situation. “He can’t love you anymore, (Y/N). You need to move on. I’m not asking you to love me immediately, just to give me a chance to prove to you I am the better man. Whatever you felt when you were with him, whatever he may have given you - I can do better. I will do better. I can buy you anything, you’ll want for nothing at all-” “Do you honestly believe me to be that vain? To want material things?” (Y/N) scoffed and turned around, ready to leave. “No, Jumin. I don’t love you and after...after this!” she gestured with a free hand to him, herself and the file, “I never could. You won’t ever replace him. No one can, and I don’t appreciate you acting as if you’re the ‘better man’. This is not a competition. And if it was a competition, my husband would win hands down. Goodbye, Mr Han.” With that, she walked out of his office, heels clicking as she stormed out. Jumin’s wide eyes glassed over with tears which he soon blinked away, pouring himself another glass of wine. Maybe Jaehee’s remarks about him becoming a future alcoholic were a little too based in reality. He called Jaehee. “Secretary Kang, please get me some more wine.” Fucking hell, he really messed things up.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Zen’s POV He couldn’t take it. Zen’s feelings for (Y/N) were tearing him apart, hiding them in the dark was killing him slowly and he could no longer cope with it. He thought he could, but the more he spent time with her, the more his emotions grew. It felt as though wild roses were growing in his lungs, preventing him from breathing. He had to confess before it killed him.

Knocking on the door, Zen waited outside in the hallway until (Y/N) let him into her home. She was still fuming over the situation with Jumin several days prior, but seeing Zen standing outside her door made her momentarily forget all about her frustrations regarding Jumin. “Hyun…” she smiled, “Come in.”

“(Y/N), I….” Zen sighed, shaking his head as he entered, a bouquet of small roses in hand as he handed them to her, “I need you to listen to me, t-this is important.” Since when was he so embarrassed and shy? The effect she had on him was profound. She took the flowers, admiring them as she felt a small beat of her heart, freezing for a moment after, staring at the crimson petals with a fondness she never realised was there before. Blushing, she put them in a vase, “Hyun, is everything okay? Thank you for the roses, though, they’re gorgeous.” Usually, he would’ve made a flirtatious remark about how they weren’t as gorgeous as her, or how she was a rose herself, but this time it was different. The entire situation was different. “I’m in love with you.” She gasped, dropping the vase as it shattered on the ground - Zen believed this to be the universe’s own foreshadowing as to what was about to happen to his heart. “H-Hear me out, please.” She had never heard him plead like this before. It was...strange - and yet, his humility in this situation felt endearing. (Y/N) felt immensely conflicted, heart beating faster than usual, but her devotion for her first husband remaining.

“I love you. You’re...so amazing and supportive and - just...just so…” He scarcely had trouble with the ladies, but (Y/N) wasn’t just anyone. He was in love with her, and this was as genuine as a confession could be; it was clearly straight from the heart. “I’ve...always admired you, but the more I got to know you the more I fell. And I know you’re always going to love your husband, and I don’t...I don’t expect anything from you.” He thickly swallowed, “You’ve gone through a traumatic situation, and...and I would never even begin to expect to replace the love you had for him. I just...I want you to be happy. I want to be here for you, to support you - to be your friend when you need me.” He looked down at the floor, “I just needed to tell you how I felt for my sake. I’m sorry, (Y/N), I...I really do just want you to be happy and I don’t want anything from you; I’m your friend before anything else and-” “Okay.” He paused, looking up at her with confusion, “Wha-” “-Okay. I...I accept your feelings. I’m glad you were honest with me, and I...I like you, Hyun. I really do.” She blushed, smiling at him as she grabbed his hand and held it tightly. “I want to give us a try. It’s...scary for me. I will always care for and love my first husband - nothing will ever change that. But...I’ve been widowed for years now and I suppose it’s time for me to try to move on with my life.”

“I appreciate everything you’ve done for me. You have been an amazing presence in my life and knowing that you put your heart on the line and still only wish for my happiness is proof that your feelings are sincere, so...I want to give you a chance. I-It’s not going to be easy,” “I’m not expecting it to be. But...I….If you really want to try with me, I promise to be patient. We’ll...move slowly. I’ll never pressure you into anything, I swear.” (Y/N) smiled an honest smile for the first time in a long time, wrapping her arms around him in a tight embrace. “We...we’ll have to take things slow. It’s going to take time for me to get used to this, but...you’ve been nothing but great to me from the start and I really want to try.”

(Y/N) pulled away and stroked his cheek, then pecked it, before taking a deep breath. “How about you take me out on a date?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hope you enjoyed reading ❤ Please consider commissioning or supporting me, but don’t worry if you can’t; you can support me through sharing and reblogging my work, commenting, giving feedback and sharing your thoughts on my work to keep me motivated!

Thank you so much for taking the time to read through this. and a special thank you to @lynettethemadscientist for commissioning me with this beauty, it was tremendously fun to write and I enjoyed it very much!

- Mod Ama/Rozalia

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gingerwritess · 5 years

Note

ANYTHING IN A LIBRARY AND I LOVE YOU

for my next trick i will turn a fluffy drabble into an almost smutty oneshot then into angsty angsty angst then back to pure fluffiness.

and t h e n i won’t proofread it! wow!!

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

Everything is bigger in Asgard.

You weren’t expecting Loki’s single, private room to be bigger than every house you’ve lived in, but his “room” has literal hallways, a bathroom big enough for a family of four to live comfortably, and a closet that could probably rival the queen of England’s.

And a personal library.

That’s the best part. It’s warm and cozy and through a doorway just past that of the bedroom, an archway around a corner that makes your gown dramatically billow around you as you round the corner.

You can practically smell the knowledge sitting on the shelves, and there’s a candle burning it the distance—besides that, you can’t exactly tell if this room has been disturbed over the last few decades.

Dust floats away when you push the heavy door open, peeking inside, a slow creak shattering the silence as the door moves.

Inside, the air sits heavy.

It’s huge, nearly blinding as sunlight streams through the windows, and absolutely overflowing. Seriously, you’ve never seen so many books, so many shelves, and the desk in the back corner is covered in a clutter of papers scrawled over with ink.

This room has been used, clearly. Maybe not recently, but it’s been loved and well used.

The first couple steps puff up clouds of dust under your feet, swirling around your ankles as you walk to one of the shelves—glancing around, you decide you’ve just entered a dream.

It’s just…magical.

Donning a gown of featherlight material that swishes around your ankles, given to you by a queen, hiding in a nearly ancient library surrounded by books written in a dead language??

All you’re missing in this perfect fantasy is your centuries old, mystical prince of a boyfriend, who’s apparently off taking care of his diplomatic duties—you pinch yourself.

Is this actually real?

Fingers skimming over dusty spines, you pause and pull a battered book of the shelf, something leather bound and tied with a belt, a couple of runes scrawled across the cover.

“Interesting choice.”

You jump backwards with a start, your back coming in solid contact with Loki’s chest.

“Don’t do that!”

His chuckle fills the room and you smack his chest with the book.

“I hate you,” you grumble, holding the book to your chest and striding over to the long lounge couch next to the desk, flopping down with an unceremonious huff. “Don’t scare me like that, seriously, I’m gonna punch you next time.”

“That’ll be entertaining,” he hums with a smile, following you and sitting down next to you. “Are you expecting to, ah, read that book?”

He gestures to the leather-bound book in your lap as you open it, glancing over a couple pages.

Oh…it’s all in runes.

“Nope.” You snap it closed and shove it towards Loki. “You’re gonna read it to me.”

He blinks, a slow grin spreading over his face. “Are you sure? Specifically this book?”

“Yes?”

Why not?

Loki clears his throat, opening the dusty book again as you shuffle closer. “From the beginning? It’s a rather drab story, only a couple relatively exciting parts.”

“What’s it about?”

“A princess and her stableboy’s forbidden romance.”

“Sounds cute,” you grin, poking him in the stomach just to watch him squirm away. “Did you wish for a cute stablehand to come steal your heart, too?”

“Maybe.” His grin turns sheepish and he fixes his gaze on the book, flipping through pages to find the parts he wants. “What I ended up with is much better, though.”

“You’re sweet, Loki.” You press a kiss to his cheek. “And for the record? We’re practically living a fairytale romance.”

“Nothing like this one, not yet, believe me.”

There’s a deeply concerning glint in his eye again.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Let me read you part of this book,” he grins, settling back on the couch and laying a cool hand on your thigh. “The book you chose, mind you.”

He laughs at your confusion and clears his throat, setting the book on his lap and pulling you closer as he begins to read in a low, smooth voice.

“The act was lewd yet the pleasure great, and despite the bare coverage of the sparse trees and shrubbery…”

Loki pauses and glances at you, you leaning against him and hanging on to his every word.

“…she wanted nothing more but to take him deeper. Feel a deeper, more intimate, more carnal connection…so blissfully wrong that it could only be right.”

He’s practically purring…and you’re practically drooling.

This isn’t good.

Red alert, your brain screams, red a-fucking-lert—

“He was a beautiful specimen, in every way sculpted to perfection. And in that moment, the way his gaze held hers…”

Loki pauses again, waiting for you to stop him, and looks down at you to find you already staring at him.

He holds your gaze and waits for you to look away.

“…she needed to feel every part of him.”

You don’t even blink.

That was unexpected.

Trying to keep his voice from shaking, he swallows hard and trudges on.

“The, uh, the ground was cold. Hard. Uncomfortable. But wrapped in his arms, she couldn’t care any less when he lowered her to the ground, pushing layers of pestilent petticoat away from the treasure he so coveted.”

You rest your head against his shoulder, daring to even give your bottom lip a little distracted bite—gods, do you know what you’re doing??

His hands are starting to shake when he turns the page.

“The-the tongue of a man is a cursed tool,” he continues, starting to feel a little warm in the face. “But used with such skill, drawing cries from the supple throat under him, he drew her closer and d-delved further into…into her, um…”

You blink up at him as he stutters.

“Further into her, ah, dripping, erm—gods, are you going to stop me??”

“Nope,” you giggle, scooting closer. “I’m fine, are you okay?”

“Not exactly.” He tries to squirm away from you, voice hoarse.

“Loki…baby, you’re blushing!”

Closing the book with a snap and a scowl, Loki stands, pushing you off of him and trying to discretely pull his tunic further down over his hips. “I think that’s enough of this book for today.”

“That was great,” you laugh, bouncing up onto your knees as you grin at him. “Don’t judge me, you’re the one who owns it!”

“Don’t turn this on me,” he scowls, pointing the book in your face. “You’re the one who chose this book and good gods above, it’s hot in here, let’s leave.”

“Mhm. I had no idea. Last I checked, I don’t know how to read runes.”

Still awkwardly shuffling the hem of his shirt around, he holds one hand out to you to help you off the couch. “Next time,” he sighs, “try an ancient self-help book. Don’t go straight for the erotic fiction. Please.”

“Fine,” you laugh, swaying your way out of his reach and over to the cluttered desk. “But you’re the one who has those books in his library, mister, you’re not innocent here.”

Loki sets the book back on his shelf with a nearly audible roll of his eyes as you start rifling through some of the papers covering the desk.

There’s drawings, pencil sketches that’ve been smudged to the point of incomprehension, scraps of paper with only a few words scrawled onto them lying next to entire pages of looped scripts.

And on one corner of the desk, the candle you smelled earlier rests burning steadily, the flame never wavering even when you blow on it.

“Don’t touch it,” Loki warns from behind you. “It’s still fire.”

Your hand hovering in midair, you shoot him a halfhearted glare—

“Don’t read my mind, sunshine.”

“I didn’t have to, dearest.”

After touching the flame anyways and burning your hand—and struggling through the pain of that as silently as possible—you hold your finger to your mouth and try to act like nothing happened, going back to the piles of books and papers on the desk.

Loki saw the whole thing happen, of course, but he knows better than to tell you “I told you so.” Instead he chuckles quietly to himself, grabs another book off the shelf, and comes to join you at the desk.

“Give me your hand.” He kneels next to your chair, setting the book in front of you and taking your hand. “You’re an idiot, were you aware?”

“Leave me alone,” you laugh, “you told me not to, and you don’t tell me what to do.”

A shiver wracks your body when he brings your finger to his lips, glancing up at you with a quirk of his eyebrow as cold air envelopes the burn mark.

“Better?”

“…I love you.”

His cheeks turn the cutest shade of pink and he presses another kiss to your knuckles.

“No more playing with fire. Understood?”

“Mmm…we’ll see.” You lean in to steal a kiss. “I’ve always preferred ice, actually.”

He nearly chokes—that’s an ironic rebuttal. You don’t know, do you?

But speaking of ice…his fingers are certainly cold curling around your jaw, pulling you closer for another brush of the lips, barely there.

This is…strange.

It’s hesitant, as if he’s scared again, touching your bottom lip with the pad of his thumb before his mouth covers it—just like he did the first time he kissed you, terrified and unsure if you might fade right through his fingers.

He pulls away before he can commit to it, your bottom lip sticking to his for the split second he touched his forehead to yours.

“What was that for?”

A small smile tugs at his mouth, his fingers still holding your chin, thumb on your lip. “Do I need a reason?”

“No,” you whisper, dragging him towards you and crashing your mouth into his.

There’s something very odd about this library, that’s for certain.

It’s very…Loki.

You don’t know how else to describe it. But in your mind, it makes perfect sense, the books on the shelves becoming the stories his lips have yet to tell as they move against yours, the pages on pages of words he’s written, rewritten with every slow stroke of his tongue.

He tastes like secrets.

Breaking away for half a second of air, your fists curl in his shirt and hold him close, but a glint of something new on the desk catches your attention and you glance over to see what it is.

Loki leans his forehead against your cheek, chest heaving.

It’s another notebook, but this one looks different.

Smaller, thicker, and it has four letters scratched into the leather cover: LOKI.

“Are you writing a book??” Letting go of his shirt, you excitedly grab the notebook and run a hand over the cover.

Without your cheek to support his forehead, his head drops before he jerks back up, eyes opening and going wide when he sees what you’re holding.

He snatches it out of your hands before he can even begin to think about what he’s doing.

You catch his terrified gaze and blink.

“N-not this one,” he pleads, nothing more than a whisper.

“Okay…”

He sits back on his knees, glancing from the beaten notebook in his hands back up to your concerned eyes.

That was pure instinct, taking it from you.

Might as well be now.

“Actually,” he laughs dryly, slipping it back into your lap. “You might as well.”

“Is it a book you’re writing?” You hesitantly pick it up again, turning it over a couple times. “A novel or something?”

“Not exactly. It’s, ah, a journal of sorts. A diary, memoir…” he shrugs helplessly, gesturing at the notebook. “It’s answers.”

You open the front cover halfway, pause…and with a glance at Loki, close it again.

This is starting to make sense.

“Answers?” You repeat, uncertainly holding the notebook. “Thanos? New York?”

He hesitates before slowly nodding.

“Your family? Magic? Your past—”

“It’s all in there,” he cuts in, looking nearly sick. “Anything you want to know, if you truly want to know.”

A ray of sunlight streams through the window over the desk, cutting a golden curtain between your faces as you just stare at him, tongue heavy.

“I like our little reality we made,” he adds after a moment, already sounding like a defeated man. “Thank you for everything.”

He stands, skin glowing when it dips into the ray of light.

“You’d like this book.” Voice quiet, he taps the fraying cover of the book he had set on the desk in front of you a while ago. “I could translate it, if you’d like.”

His hair looks dark brown in sunlight; not so black. You hadn’t noticed.

“No sex,” he offers, finger hitting the cover again. “A couple tender embraces, plenty of longing brushes of the hand, but, ah…nothing too explicit.”

It is warm in here.

“Or not.” He picks up the book, finally breaking your gaze. “Help yourself to anything that catches your eye.”

“Wait,” you breathe, reaching for him and grabbing his arm. “No, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be, please.”

His smile cracks and you hold up the little notebook.

“Do you not want me to read this?”

“I can’t care,” he answers quietly, stepping away from the desk. “Everything in there…you’ll need to know eventually.”

“Are you sure? I won’t read it, Loki, really—”

“No.” He tries to smile again; a decent effort. “You deserve to know. Just-just read it when I’m not here. Please.”

Words aren’t…flowing right now, and he’s only getting closer to the door.

“You’re going to hate me,” Loki quietly chuckles, not a hint of humor in the sound. “And that’s okay.”

“No, sunshine, that’s impossible—”

He holds up his hands, palms scratched over from his anxious picking.

“It’s okay,” he repeats, looking you dead in the eye. “I’ve waited too long, anyways. Let you get too attached. That—that holds everything you need to know about me, i-if you want to love me. It’s not good.”

“Nothing’s going to change that I love you,” you promise. “You know that, right?

Loki smiles, a heartbreaking twitch of the lips.

“I wouldn’t be so sure.”

The door clicks heavily behind him, taking all the cool air in the library with him, leaving you alone at his desk with the explanation you’ve been trying to piece together since the day you met.

…should you?

* * * * * * * *

Funnily enough, the god of lies lied to you, if you can believe that.

That little notebook is missing just one last secret, one he has no intention of ever telling you.

You’d never know it was missing, turning pages through his past and realising that Odin was sick in the head in so many ways, reading gruesome recounts of the beatings, lashings, and psychological torture a certain Titan put Loki through; your hands shake as you flip the page.

Head in his hands, he slumps against the far wall of his bedroom and waits for the inevitable.

You’ll come out of his old library any second, heart shattered, and ask him to take you back to Midgard. And of course, he’s going to agree, he’s going to send you home, not think twice about his selfish desire to keep you here with him, and he’ll go back to the sad excuse of a life he had before you.

Probably prison, actually, with no reason to be better once you leave.

A dull ticking pounds through his head as he waits, every second dragging longer than the last.

At least your last kiss was one to remember.

After an agonising eternity of destructive thoughts, the door down the hallway creaks open again and you step out, slippered feet soft on the wood floors.

Your hands are clenched into fists, Loki notes, still fists when you come to a stop in front of him.

He blinks up at you, eyes already stinging, waiting for you to swing the axe.

“Well?”

You kneel.

Loki’s eyes flutter shut, knowing you’re about to be the last thing he loses before he dies.

“Look what I found.”

The soft smile is audible in your honeyed words.

“Look at your hair,” you giggle, and Loki pries his eyes back open.

In your hands is a picture, an old, faded picture that he’d nearly forgotten about—a picture of him.

“You’re so cute.”

The way you run your fingertips along the picture twists his heart in its cage, your voice so soft and sweet and talking about him.

“Didn’t…” Loki’s voice cracks. “Didn’t you read it?”

“Mhm.” You shuffle around on your knees and sit next to him, still gazing at the old photo.

“A-and you aren’t going to leave?”

“Only if you want me to.”

“No, no, never, please,” he blurts, scrambling to sit up to look at you. “Are you lying to me?”

“Read my mind.” Taking his hand in yours, you press it to your forehead. “Please, Loki, read my mind, I’m not lying.”

A warm wave of energy jolts through your head, engulfing you in a strange warmth until Loki’s hand jerks away, eyes going wide as if he’s been burnt.

“I’m not lying,” you repeat, grabbing his hand and kissing his knuckles. “I love you.”

No, no, no.

His entire life has been dictated by people lying to him. All of it, it’s all lies.

“Loki,” you begin quietly, holding his hand tight in yours. “You’re the god of mischief, right?”

He nods, still doubtful.

“You’re the trickster god,” you continue. “For a long time I thought that meant you were the tricky one—which you are, you’re a pain in the ass, don’t get me wrong—”

He breathes a quiet laugh.

“I thought that meant that you were the one who told the lies, manipulated people and created chaos.”

“I am, I thought that was clear after you read—”

You press a finger to his lips and smile. “You’ve been lied to more than you’ve ever told a lie to anyone else. And to me, that’s what makes you the god of lies.”

He blinks a couple times.

“And people have played with you, too. They’ve used you like a toy and messed with your mind, making more chaos and messes inside your mind and heart than you’ve ever done for anyone else.”

“…god of mischief,” he whispers suddenly, the realisation dawning. “Agent of chaos.”

“Get it?”

He nods slowly, gaze dropping to the photo you’re still holding.

“Call me crazy,” you chuckle, “but I don’t think this cutie right here ever meant for things to go so wrong.”

Loki nods again and leans against the wall, letting you rest your head on his shoulder, holding the photo out in front of you both. “He was far from innocent, but no, he didn’t.”

“I just wish I had known him back then. Before his attempts, y’know?”

You can hear Loki swallow thickly and you tilt your head up to press a kiss to the underside of his jaw.

“I would’ve smooched some sense into him.”

He laughs then, thank god.

A moment passes in silence, your head on his shoulder, and for a split second Loki wants to tell you his last secret. Just get it all out there, have nothing left to hide.

But you’re still staring lovingly at the old picture of him with his little smirk, cocky saunter, his æsir form.

“My hair was awful,” he whispers, and you silently thank whoever’s listening when he wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you tighter against him and leaving it there. “Can you believe Frigga let me leave the palace looking like that?”

“For the record,” you laugh, shushing him and hugging the photo to your chest, “I definitely still would’ve hit that.”

He’ll tell you another day.

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

the “photo” (gif not mine!) i imagined in case you were wondering :’)

hope you enjoyed, please reblog and feel free to send me ideas!

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#loki x reader #loki reader insert #loki imagine #loki requests #loki angst #loki x reader fluff #boyfriend!loki #loki drabbles #loki fanfiction #loki laufeyson #loki slowburn #loki series #loki

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frostmarris · 4 years

Text

notes: an update for a fic in the same month it was posted? blasphemy

enjoy!

Chapter Two

Sai sits on the corner of the desk as he watches Sakura add the finishing touches of the brooch’s drawing, a red-inked pen in her hand and a collection of other pens and pencils laid out to her right. The brooch itself sits nearby as she glances to it for reference, clean and finally finished with its two day soak in moon water. She's added four drawings in total to the brooch's entry in the record book, the large tome laid open in front of her as she leans over it.

One drawing is inked and colored and the largest of the bunch, perfectly shaded and every detail meticulously copied down as it depicts the front view of the brooch. The two under it, a side view and a drawing of the back of the brooch, are inked but not colored or shaded, yet just as detailed. Sketched out in the margins of Sakura's description of the events of the curse-breaking is a picture of the brooch with the cameo woman attempting to crawl out of her frame, a clawed hand outstretched and her expression furious.

Sai isn't sure how long she's been drawing but she must be nearing a stopping point as there's little left to add and she'd already completed the drawing on the parchment attached to the amber vial. She hasn't spoken since she'd started and he'd been content to quietly watch her and resist his innate urge to knock one of the pens off the desk, but he finds himself wanting to fill the silence now.

"How long have you been doing this, Sakura?"

"Doing what?" She asks in return, swapping the red pen for one with white ink to add highlights to the rubies.

He is pleasantly surprised that she’d even responded and he moves to lay down on his corner of the desk, his tail draped over the edge and swaying slowly.

"Breaking curses."

She lets out a small hum and waits a moment before she replies, still not looking up from the record book.

"A while."

Sai frowns to himself at the vague answer, having hoped to learn more about her. She'd barely spoken about herself the past two days (granted, she hadn't asked much about him either) and he knew very little about her life outside of her home.

"How long have you been practicing magic?" He asks, trying again.

"A while longer," Is her response and he sighs, feeling a little annoyed.

Quiet for a couple minutes, Sai crosses his paws and turns his gaze from her drawing to her face, still determined to learn more about her.

"Are you self-taught or did you have an instructor?"

That makes her pause and, as he watches her, he can tell when she stops truly looking at her work and her gaze seems to become far-off for a moment, as if she were lost in her thoughts. Sai leans forward ever so slightly, hoping to have made a breakthrough.

But Sakura seems to pull herself out of it after a moment and reaches for one of the black-ink pens.

"A bit of both."

His frown deepens and he sits up again, watching her pen a date onto the top right corner of the page. She leaves the record book open to allow the ink to dry and leans back on her stool, reaching her arms up as she stretches. As Sakura slips off the stool and heads out of her workshop, Sai hops down and follows after her, not quite finished with his questions.

"Did you attend an academy?"

Sakura stops and sighs tiredly, turning around to face the cat and planting her fists on her hips.

"Alright, what's with the round of 20 Questions?" She asks, watching Sai approach the couch and hop up onto the arm rest, obviously unperturbed by her reaction.

"I know very little about you, Sakura." He says, green eyes that match her own staring back at her. "You've barely told me anything about your life - I don't even know your surname."

"You don't need to know," She turns to head into the kitchen, grumbling to herself. Having already made the mistake of giving the damned cat her first name - and he just kept rubbing it in and repeating it, the ass - she wasn't about to just hand over anything else. "We'll get along fine just as things are."

"But I want to learn more about you," Sai insists, appearing on the island counter. He still had every intention in becoming her familiar and getting to know her was the first step in creating a bond.

Sai, of course, doesn't voice his intentions.

(If only she wasn't so stubborn.)

Sakura groans and is about to speak again when there's a sudden knock at the door, startling both of them. The cat looks to the front door just next to the living room curiously while Sakura glances at her phone with a frown, double-checking the date.

She hadn't had any visitors since he'd been released - she hadn't even left the house, actually - and he couldn't deny his curiosity, eager to see what sort of company she kept.

But, much to his chagrin, Sakura turns to the fridge and shouts a dismissing, "I'm closed! Come back tomorrow!"

They both pause, however at the shouted reply from the other side of the door.

“Aw, not even for a visit from your best bud in the whole world?”

The smile that appears on Sakura’s face was unlike any expression he’d seen from her yet and Sai finds himself following her to the door, immensely intrigued. She steels her face into one of nonchalance before opening the door, cocking her hip and crossing her arms as she greets her guest.

“Alright, what did you do this time?”

Sai peeks around her legs to peer up at the brown-haired, grinning man on Sakura’s doorstep, backlit by the lit street lamps of the late evening, but quickly finds himself hissing at the sight of a large white dog at his side and scurrying back towards the couch. Sakura and the man watch in surprise as the black cat makes his way up on top of a bookcase, crouches low, flicks his tail in agitation, and stares down at them with disapproval.

“I didn’t do nothin’,” The man says, his curious gaze on Sai as Sakura steps aside to let him and the dog in. “When’d you get a cat?”

“Not technically a cat,” Sakura mumbles, closing the door and moving on towards the kitchen. “Want something to drink?”

He sends her a surprised look, head tilting as he drops down on the couch and the dog lays across his feet.

“I thought you didn’t want a familiar?” A pause, his expression thoughtful. “Just some water, thanks.”

“I don’t,” She says, her matter-of-fact tone making Sai frown and straighten up. “He’s just a cursed soul that I’m helping out.”

“Sakura,” Sai finally speaks, a little miffed by her dismissal of him. “Who is this?”

She returns with a glass and a bowl, both filled with water, in hand and passes the former to the man and places the latter next to the dog. She gives the beast an affectionate pat on the head, much to Sai’s annoyance, before answering his question.

“Sai,” Sakura addresses, looking up at him from his place on top of the bookcase. “This is Kiba and Akamaru.”

She turns to the other two and gestures up at Sai before moving to sit on the couch’s armrest, sipping from a coffee mug. “Kiba and Akamaru, this is Sai.”

‘Kiba’, who’d been looking up at Sai with a mix of surprise and amusement ever since he’d spoken, nods up at the cat with a grin and reaches down to pat the dog’s head.

“Don’t worry about Akamaru here,” He says, the dog's tail thumping happily on the floor as Sakura reaches down to pet him as well. “He looks big and scary, but he’s actually a huge softie and he’s super chill with cats.”

Sai doesn’t reply and simply stares down at them all, not budging from his spot.

Kiba shrugs and sips his water as his gaze drifts over the living room, soon landing on Sakura. "How ya been, Sak? You look good - get a haircut?"

She sends him an unimpressed look over the rim of her mug and crosses a leg over her knee, sighing but unable to hold back a small smirk.

"We both know you never stop by unannounced just to chat," Turning more towards him, she sends her mug floating over to the coffee table. "What have you brought me, Kiba?"

He laughs weakly but nods and reaches into an interior pocket of his coat to remove a small manilla envelope and a wooden box tied off with caraway oil-soaked twine.

"A body was found five days ago," Kiba explains, setting the box in her hand and opening up the envelope to pull out several photographs. He nods towards the small case, which Sakura waits to open.

"They pulled that off the corpse."

"Five days?" She asks, placing the wooden box on her thigh and flipping through the photos when he hands them over as well. "Why'd you wait so long to bring it to me?"

From his spot on top of the bookcase, Sai can see the pictures captured in the photos and finds himself shuffling a little closer to the edge. They depict images of the crime scene - of a body shriveled and drained of both color and life. At first glance it looks like it must have been leftover from the remains of a fire but, as Sai hops down to perch on the back of the sofa, he realizes everything is still intact - from hair, long and chestnut brown, to the bony fingers, curled and clawing in pain. The skin is tight and leathery, a solid dark ashen color rather than the mottled yellows, reds, and purples of a decomposing body, that show off every bone and joint.

It looks similar to mummified remains, but there are no other signs of decay. With the skin so tight and dry, the lips and eyelids are drawn back to reveal perfect teeth and missing eyes, the sockets empty and dark.

The strangest part of it all is that it's dressed in perfectly normal clothes - unstained, unmarred, and unassuming. Around the corpse's thin throat is a necklace, the gold chain splayed out and the small bell charm resting in the grass.

"They're supposed to contact me the moment there's any suspicion of magic," Kiba answers, looking both frustrated and tired, "And this reeks of it. But those damned human cops didn't call me in until yesterday."

Sakura quirks an eyebrow, frowning to herself and flipping through the rest of the pictures. "They're still giving you trouble? I thought the installment of the Department was supposed to make things all... 'official'."

She makes air quotes with one hand when she says the word and Kiba sighs and crosses his arms, Akamaru sitting up to rest his head on his knee. "They're either too stubborn to get outside help when it's obviously needed or just grossly incompetent."

"Incompetent," She mutters in affirmation, her frown deepening at the pictures.

"Either way," Kiba continues, groaning and leaning back with a stretch, "They hate having to call me in and listen to me talk about magic. The only reason they finally did was because someone realized the horrible feeling of foreboding and dread that had fallen over the entire precinct was strongest in the evidence vault."

"What have they been able to find out about the victim?"

Here, Kiba's lip curls in anger and Akamaru lets out a huff, prodding his stomach with his nose.

"That's just it," He says with the barest growl, his eyes flashing golden. "They went the complete opposite direction with it. Assumed it was just a corpse that had been dug up out of a cemetery and dressed up as a prank."

Sakura lets out a derisive snort, setting the photos aside finally and reaching for the box again. Sai continues to watch and listen quietly, edging closer to Sakura and keeping a safe distance from the man and dog.

"If I'd been called to the scene right away, I could have told them how fucking wrong they were and a proper investigation could have actually happened," Kiba adds, finally sighing and seeming to relax as he pats Akamaru’s head.

"Where was it found anyways?" She asks, waving a hand over the box to lull anything active into a temporary sleep before finally untying the twine.

"A manor estate just outside the city," Scratching at his cheek, just below the red tattoos, Kiba watches as well. "I'm gonna head over there in the morning to meet with the guy who found the body and see if I can sniff anything else out."

Sakura nods and opens the lid, simply inspecting the golden necklace inside visually for a moment before making it float into the air. She eyes the charm curiously and makes it shake, but no sound comes from the bell and her frown returns. It's small but looks weighty - she won't touch it with herself just yet, there's no telling what sort of curses may be lingering - and the upper cap and flared bottom are etched with tiny patterns, the clapper attached to the inside hanging freely. A visual charm rather than a ringing jingle bell, it seems.

The necklace lowers back into the box and she snaps it shut, looking up at Kiba.

"I'll find out what I can and give you a call in a couple days."

He smiles tiredly and nods, moving to stand. “Sorry for droppin’ by just to dump more work on you, Sak.”

She waves offhandedly and gives Akamaru’s ear a few affection skritches when the dog moves his head into her lap.

“You can make it up to me over drinks when I’m not busy,” Sakura answers, smirking at Kiba’s laugh and slipping off the arm of the couch. She walks them both to the front door, Sai following at her heels, and, as she opens the door, the porchlight comes to life. Sai is tempted to step outside and explore, curious to see the outside of her home, but he stays at her side and holds his questions.

“Invoice me when you’re done,” Kiba says, holding up a hand when she frowns and starts to reply. “Like you said, Sak - this is all ‘official’ now. I’m not just some PI comin’ to my pal for help anymore.”

Akamaru gives a woof of agreement and Kiba leans in to give her a one-armed hug, a wet nose pressing against the back of her hand.

“You’re gonna get paid.” He says matter of factly when he pulls away, grin widening when she rolls her eyes. “Whether you like it or not.”

“Fine, fine,” A small smile appears at Sakura’s lips and she waves them off. “Let me know what you find tomorrow.”

Kiba nods and waves back and the pair head out into the darkness, Sakura watching their backs for a few moments before she turns to head back inside, the door closing behind her. Tail flicking behind him, Sai looks from her to the door before finally following, watching Sakura collect the glass, bowl, and her mug.

“What was that all about, Sakura?” He asks after a moment, appearing on the kitchen counter as she heads towards the sink to deposit the dishes. She glances down at him and seems to think something over for a moment before shrugging and refilling her coffee.

“Kiba is one of the only magic and supernatural investigators in the city,” She answers, adding cream and sugar to her coffee, “When he finds cursed items causing trouble on the streets, he brings them to me to get them cleansed.”

Turning, she heads back into the living room and grabs her cellphone, the photos, and the wooden box, sipping her coffee before she continues.

“Sometimes, like with this case, he partners with the local human police and outsources the examination of magical evidence to me.”

Sai continues to follow after her, frowning to himself and hopping up onto the desk in her workshop as she enters. Sakura sets her mug on a coaster and closes her record book, swapping it for the manilla envelope before returning it to its spot on her bookshelf. Opening the box, she grabs her obsidian seeing stone and examines the necklace again before encasing it in a sphere of blue energy and making it lift out of the wooden case, the orb hovering just an inch over her open palm.

“So long as the police weren’t wholly incompetent, it should have already been checked over for fingerprints and physical evidence,” Sakura continues, unlocking her phone to open up a playlist of ambient nature sounds before moving to stand in the center of the workshop. “So, now I do my part and determine what sort of curse or spell had been cast - if any - and find out its purpose and origins.”

She glances to Sai, who sits crouched on the desk’s corner, and holds the floating necklace up a little higher.

“It’s nearly impossible to erase a caster’s signature, but it takes some digging to find it.” A pause, a thoughtful frown on her face before she looks to him again. “Behave and don’t touch anything in the workshop while I’m out.”

Sai sits up in confusion and opens his mouth to question her but, before he can, she places her second hand over the blue orb of magic, hovering just another inch above it, and closes her eyes.

Sakura is completely still for a moment before her eyes snap open - only they’re completely white and unseeing, just barely glowing in the soft light of the room. There’s a low hum of magic in the air of the workshop and, as Sai watches, her long hair begins to lift into the air with an unseen and unfelt breeze.

It floats languidly around her, as if she were suspended in water. The only other movement from Sakura is the slow rise and fall of her chest as she breathes and Sai hops down from the desk, taking his human form as he circles her curiously.

He waves a hand in front of her eyes, careful not to touch her, and frowns when there’s no reaction. Tempted as he is to catch a lock of her pink hair around a finger, Sai pulls away and steps back.

Unsure how long she would be ‘out’, he takes a seat on the stool and waits, watching Sakura intently.

: :

The minutes tick by into hours and there's no change from Sakura. Sai watches dutifully all the while, his concern growing as he stays sat on the stool, his elbows resting on his thighs and his fingers laced together under his chin. He considers moving to the kitchen to prepare a meal for when she 'returns', but the thought of leaving Sakura's side and something happening while he's gone makes him anxious, so he stays put.

There's a sudden fuller hum of magic in the shop that pushes past the white noise it had eventually melted into and Sai startles when Sakura suddenly gasps and moves.

She blinks, those familiar green eyes returning, and her hair falls, a few locks draped over her shoulders and the rest reaching down to her waist against her spine. Her back straightens and she rolls her shoulders before her body relaxes and she reaches up to pinch the bridge of her nose, squeezing her eyes shut. The necklace is still floating in her sphere of magic as she moves towards the desk and Sai slips off of the stool, catching her arm when she stumbles slightly.

Once he’s sure she's stable, he transforms back into a cat and watches her crack an eye open to deposit the necklace back in the box before slapping the lid shut. Eyes watering, Sakura reaches up towards one of the shelves above the desk and grabs a bottle of eye drops.

Even with her magic, five hours was an awfully long time to go without blinking.

Sai's still watching her with concern as she tilts her head back to apply the drops, his voice making her turn towards him slightly.

“Sakura? What happened?”

She gives an annoyed huff and, once she seems to have collected herself, grabs her cellphone to check the time before pausing the ambient playlist and slipping it into her back pocket. Looking irritated, she begins to start searching through the various cupboards and drawers and shelves of her workshop to gather ingredients.

“Whoever hexed that,” She jabs a thumb over her shoulder in the direction of the necklace, a bundle of dried herbs in her hand, “Did not want anyone to go snooping.”

“What did you find out?” Sai follows her around the room, his head tilting when she digs through a rack of smaller drawers only to step away empty-handed and frustrated.

“The chain is made of copper and was enchanted separately,” Sakura answers, searching through another set of drawers, these labeled with names he recognizes as various crystals. “It has nowhere near the same amount of safety measures and tampering wards placed over it, so I at least know what spell was used.”

She gives another irritated huff when she doesn’t seem to find what she’s looking for and deposits everything on her desk before turning, Sai following her out of the workshop and towards the kitchen. He's surprised when she opens a door next to the fridge that leads outside, having yet to see her use that exit.

“The spell simply influenced the wearer into never taking off the necklace. Typical stuff,” Sakura continues, following a path that leads from the kitchen door into the darkness of her backyard. Torn between wanting to explore the exterior of her home and wanting to find out what she’d discovered, Sai follows a few paces behind her and perks up when the path seems to lead into a garden.

Even in the dark, he can tell its lush and well-tended, divided into different sections for herbs, edible plants and vegetables, and sweet-smelling florals. It takes up almost the entirety of the backyard, reaching out to touch the brick wall fence that surrounds her property, and four trellis archways - covered in different climbing plants - stand over the main stepping stone path. Two trellis' each are set up on either side of the large tree in the center of the garden, the path circling around its base and continuing onto the other side with the other pair of arches.

She veers off the path onto a smaller one, the earth raised up three levels like a set of stairs on either side of her, and crouches down between the rows of vegetation to collect a few fresh plants, still speaking aloud.

“It’s inactive now, but it wasn’t a particularly strong spell anyways,” Sakura picks a few sprigs of what he can identify as rosemary before moving on towards the vegetable patch and collecting a few thin, feathery tops of a rooted plant.

“And the bell?”

Sakura grimaces and stands, heading back towards the house. Her voice is short and her posture stiff when she answers.

“It’s made of brass and coated in a lead-based gold paint.”

“And..?” Sai asks, rather unsurely, as she closes the door behind him once they're both back inside.

Her lip curls in distaste and she takes her gathered herbs and plant tops back into the workshop, setting them down with the other ingredients she’d grabbed.

“That’s all I was able to discover,” She holds back her additional hiss of ‘After five damn hours’ and moves to a different cabinet, this one containing various spellcasting instruments and tools. “I’ll need to do some more serious scrying to break through the layers and layers of barriers the original caster set up.”

Sai hops up onto the desk and sniffs at the various herbs - some dried, some fresh, and a few roots - and resists the urge to paw at the crystals.

“Shit,” Sakura hisses in frustration, pulling his gaze back towards her. She’s knelt in front of the cabinet, the lowest drawer pulled open and a small stack of what look like mirrors - all various sizes and shapes - next to her. The topmost one is shattered and, considering the look on her face, he’s fairly certain the rest are as well.

“I thought I still had a few good ones left,” Grumbling to herself as she returns the broken mirrors to their drawer, Sakura stands and grabs a book off the wall of shelves before heading towards her desk. She nudges Sai aside and grabs a scrap of paper as she quickly opens the book to the spell she’s looking for, jotting down the list of ingredients and marking off the ones she has on hand.

Sai watches and realizes the book must be one of her own grimoires as he recognizes her handwriting. She finishes up her list before he can take a good look at the spell entry - he for sure saw the word Scrying in the title - and heads out of her workshop, gesturing for Sai to follow and closing the door once he's out.

“I need to go do a little shopping to get the rest of these ingredients.”

He frowns in confusion. "At 3 in the morning?"

"The market is always open," She says aloud, tucking the list into a purse hanging by the front door before heading upstairs to her bedroom to get changed.

“Should I accompany you in this form or my human one?” Sai calls after her, waiting at the base of the staircase. Sakura pauses, halfway up, and turns to send him a stern look over her shoulder.

“You’re not coming.”

“But, Sakura-”

“No.”

He sits and his tail gives an upset flick behind him. Sighing, Sakura faces forward and continues upstairs, missing the moment Sai suddenly had an idea and turns back towards the workshop door.

: :

Out of her loungewear and dressed in a fresh all-black outfit - high-waisted pants and a high-collared shirt with long sleeves; did she even have anything colorful in her closet anymore? - Sakura heads back downstairs to find no sign of Sai.

She grimaces and glances around the living room briefly before guessing he must be sulking. Truthfully, she felt kind of bad for saying he couldn’t come to the market with her, but she really wanted to make it a quick trip and didn't have time to look after a curious spirit.

Deciding to make it up to him and take him shopping after she's finished with this necklace, Sakura grabs her purse and one of the pieces of green chalk in the key bowl on the foyer table. She looks over the living room again for Sai before heading to the kitchen and out the door into the garden once more.

Probably not best to fly when she was still tired.

Following the stepping stones of the path, Sakura approaches the large red maple tree in the heart of her garden and tosses and catches the chalk in her hand. The leaves of the tree are already scarlet with the early fall and a few have fallen, scattered over her path as she walks forward. Stopping at the base of the old tree, she looks up at the wide trunk for a moment before leaning down to start at the bottom.

Drawing a line straight across in the green chalk, she makes a 90 degree turn when it's just wide enough for herself and continues upwards with a practiced ease before arching over and back down to where she'd started. With the outline of her door marked out, Sakura draws a handle and two sigils towards the curved top, one for Travel and one for Doorway. She wraps the chalk in a scrap of cloth before slipping it into her purse and then places her hand against the bark of the tree, palm flat over the sigils and her fingers stretched out.

Sending a burst of her magic through the chalk and tree alike, she watches as the green markings glow brightly for a moment before the door properly takes shape. She waits a moment until she pulls her hand away and tugs on her black gloves as the door finishes its manifestation, finally reaching for the now very-real silver handle and pulling it open.

Sakura steps through and onto the market street, the shops and stalls all open and bustling with activity despite the current time. The magical shopping district is lit up with different lights, some electric and some flame but all bright enough to drive away the dark of the night, and she pulls the door closed behind her.

The doorway melts and morphs back into the brick wall - one of several brick walls designated for traveling methods such as Sakura’s - and she walks forward, already knowing which shop to stop at first. She passes the pop-up stalls to get to the more permanent storefronts and turns onto a right branch of the main street to continue on for a little further, where the shops were bigger and more spaced out.

She finally finds the one she’s looking for and heads into the Yamanaka Nursery, the sight of the druid owner greeting her as she enters.

Ino, as blonde and beautiful as ever, glances up from behind the checkout counter and grins as she spots Sakura, quickly handing her satyr customer their change and purchase before waving her over. The satyr practically disappears behind the potted peace lily in their arms and Sakura holds the door open as they pass, waving back at Ino. Once she makes it to the counter, Sakura leans forward to let the blonde gently cup her face and kiss both of her cheeks, chuckling under her breath as her face tingles.

“Forehead!” Ino says as she pulls away, resting her elbows on the countertop and settling her chin on the back of her hand. “What brings you in at this hour? Out of my miracle fertilizer already?”

Shaking her head, Sakura leans against the counter as well and opens her purse. “No, I’m out of a few ingredients that I need to grab for a spell. Think you can help me out, Pig?”

“Of course! Whatcha need?” The druid looks to the door to greet a new guest and Sakura reaches into her purse for her shopping list, frowning when she doesn’t immediately feel it. She sits the bag on the counter to have a proper look inside, spotting the paper folded up on the bottom. But when she grabs it, she finds herself pausing at the sight of a familiar locket charm hiding underneath, her frown deepening.

“What the-”

“That’s strange, how did that get in there?”

Sakura’s head snaps up and to the left to see Sai standing just behind her in his human form, his eyes closed and his head tilted as he sends her an insufferable yet unnervingly empty smile. She turns to face him and crosses her arms, aware of Ino watching them behind her.

“I thought I told you to stay at the house.”

He folds his arms behind his back to stand in a very respectful position, one wrist clasped in the other hand and his black eyes on her.

“Wherever the locket goes, I must follow,” Sai says simply, acting as if it was completely out of his control despite the fact that he'd been the one to slip it into her purse. She’s about to start chastising him when Ino interrupts, the blonde’s expression amused and curious.

“Oh, who is your handsome friend?” She says with a grin, eyeing Sai in approval. “A new beau?”

“A stowaway,” Sakura corrects, shooting him one last annoyed look before turning back to Ino and holding out the list. “Nevermind him. Here’s what I’m looking for.”

Ino chuckles and takes the paper, pausing in the middle of unfolding it as, in one blink, Sakura’s black-haired companion suddenly disappears. She’s about to question her friend when a black cat hops up onto the counter, eyeing Sakura even as it brushes against Ino’s arm.

“I’m not a stowaway,” The cat says, not outwardly reacting despite how startled he is when the druid gasps in delight and scoops him up. He continues to stare at Sakura even as Ino holds and fawns over him, a satisfied purr thrumming in his chest. “I’m bound to the locket, after all.”

Sakura leans forward to rest an arm on the counter, reaching out to poke Sai’s pink nose.

“I distinctly remember putting that charm away.” She replies, sighing when he simply blinks at her.

“Oh, he’s just adorable, Forehead!” Ino says, giving the cat a quick smooch between his ears before setting him back down on the counter. “When did you get a familiar?”

Groaning, Sakura rubs her temples and straightens up.

“He’s not my familiar,” She insists before she glances to Ino in consideration, missing Sai’s frown. “Do you want him?”

Sai’s ears lay flat against his head and his tail flicks, but Ino lets out a laugh and waves the offer off, opening up Sakura’s list.

“Tempting, but Dad’s allergic and too many things in this shop can kill a cat.” Ino tosses her ponytail over her shoulder and reads over the ingredients she’s looking for, humming under her breath.

“Good point,” Sakura mutters before looking down at Sai and pointing a finger at him.

“You. Human form until we get back. I don’t need you testing whether a soul can get poisoned or not.”

He sends her a curious look edged with surprise but gives a dutiful nod and hops off the counter, landing in a crouch as a human and standing upright.

“As you wish, Mistress.”

Sakura sends him a sharp look but turns her attention to Ino, listening to her continue to read aloud.

“-statice, pansy, daffodil, bittersweet, hollyhock, pink topaz, and lapis lazuli.” Ino quirks an eyebrow and looks up at Sakura, her expression curious. “What color chrysanthemums?”

“White.”

Nodding, Ino steps out from behind the counter, grabs one of the wicker baskets hanging on a wall of hooks and guides Sakura out of the shop front and into the greenhouse. Neither of them notice Sai’s small frown - had she mentioned crystals? Wasn’t this a plant shop? - but he doesn’t voice his confusion.

“Scrying spell?” The druid asks as she glances back at her, amused by how Sai was following just a few paces behind the pink-haired woman.

“How’d you know?” There’s a small smirk on Sakura’s lip as she asks back, wondering which of the four additional sections of the greenhouse they’d head for first. The frontmost area was for the year-round and non-flowering plants while the four rooms towards the back, two on either side of the center path that runs the length of the greenhouse, have their own mini-climates for each of the seasons, so that the shop could provide a wide variety of flowers all year long.

“All of these either mean truth, honesty, or memory,” Ino answers as she holds the door open for the Spring room, eyeing Sakura. “Not so sure about the crystals, but I’m sure they’re the same too.”

“The hollyhocks are for ambition,” Sakura answers cheekily, earning herself a kick to the back of the calf as the blonde laughs.

Golden lights come to life as they enter, glowing and floating around the previously-dark room and bright enough to mimic daytime, and they’re met with the sight of the incredibly organized greenhouse. Though it looks like they’ve walked into a botanical garden, complete with a dirt path and a small pond, each plant species is organized into equally-sized sections with no one type overreaching or fighting for territory. They’re all readily accessible and just a sample of what the Yamanaka family is capable of growing.

The plants are all still asleep but Ino seems to know exactly which to stop in front of, the blue forget-me-nots blooming awake when the druid turns towards them. Pulling a pair of gardening shears out of a pocket in her apron, Ino gathers several clippings before tying the stems together with a bit of twine and placing them in the shallow basket, which she then hands to Sakura. She moves onto the pansies next and the flowers open to reveal different shades of purple, blue, and yellow.

At Sakura’s direction, she collects just purple pansies and places them in the basket once they’re tied together as well. Ino makes quick work of gathering the daffodils and guides the pair out and into the Summer room, the spring flowers bathed in darkness as they step out. Once she’s collected the purple statice, white hollyhock, and gladiolus in both colors, they head into Fall to get the white chrysanthemums.

Sai stops short at the sight of a pair of tall blobs of flowing water, slowly making their way through the greenery with care and leaving an obvious trail of moisture behind. Their arms reach out and up to dip under the leaves of a few hanging plants, their movements languid and graceful, and an active current runs through their bodies and limbs despite their mostly solid shapes.

“Oh, don’t mind those!” Ino says when she notices his reaction. “They’re just giving the plants a little late-night care!”

“They’re water elementals,” Sakura adds, a little amused by how that doesn’t seem to comfort Sai.

With the chrysanthemum blooms added to the basket, Sakura is surprised when Ino leads them into Winter.

“I just want to get you some primrose pansies too,” The druid hums, answering her question before she can even ask it. “Then we’ll get the rest.”

Sakura sends her a fond smile and, with the white variety added to her basket, Ino guides them out of the greenhouse entirely and to a door marked for employees only. Inside is another garden, but Sakura knows that all of these plants are poisonous and toxic and she grabs the back of Sai’s shirt when he starts to follow Ino inside. A stern look from her is all he needs to stay put and they watch Ino pull on a pair of disposable gloves and gather Sakura’s bittersweet nightshade.

These blooms she wraps up in a bit of fabric before adding them to the basket and she’s sure to lock the door behind her when she steps out.

“I can’t get you the nettle, unfortunately,” Ino says as she moves through the store towards an open doorway at the back. It’s dim even though the shop proper is lit up and bright and seems to lead to a set of stairs going downwards, a faint, colorful glow coming from the darkness.

“We stopped carrying it. Despite the big ass sign, too many employees were getting handsy with it and would come complaining when they got stung.” Her voice echoed slightly as they headed downstairs, the air becoming cooler and those floating lights coming to life to help guide her. “Because, apparently, if it's not belladonna or foxglove, it can’t be that dangerous.”

Sakura gives a small chuckle and they enter the lower chamber, switching her hold on the basket. “No problem, it's for the cleansing part, so I don't technically need it for what I'm casting tonight.”

"More work right after shopping?" Ino asks, glancing back at her. "Don't you ever take a break?"

The source of the colorful glow becomes apparent as they’re met with the sight of a cavern-like room filled with sparkling crystals and gemstones. There’s dozens of different types, some varieties with multiple colors even, and all organized fairly similarly to the flowers and plants upstairs. At first glance, it looks like a collector's bounty styled like a garden but, upon closer inspection, Sakura can tell that it is a garden.

The clusters of gems sprout from green crystal stems, growing like actual flowers. They climb the walls in their little groups and cover the ceiling in places as well. Some grow from single stems, others in bunches among their own crystalline leaves, sharp-edged and glittering. The ones lining the walls sprout from vines and moss-like patches and the odd faux mushroom geode clings to the rock here and there, leaving only scattered spots of bare stone. The patches of sparkling gems and crystals glow brightly in their own colors while the more opaque and rough stones are only backlit by their stems and foliage.

Everything in the room is made of crystal or stone, including the short earth elementals that are tending to the gem garden. The stout creatures are made of rock and clumps of hardened dirt, tiny gemstone eyes glowing like their crystal crop set into their earthen faces. Their touch is gentle, despite their blocky stone hands, as they care for the clusters and shards and their steps are relatively quick as they trudge dutifully around the room, the occasional lone stone rolling across the winding path.

One of the five hobbles towards Ino and her guests when it spots her, giving a short bow before looking up. Ino glances at Sakura’s list once more before addressing the elemental, two more of the creatures pausing to listen.

“My friend needs three each of pink topaz and lapis lazuli,” The druid commands, smiling as the earth elemental nods and shuffles away into the garden. One of the other workers nods as well and turns to gather a few crystal blooms from a blue patch of opaque stones, plucking them from their stems and soon bringing the lapis to Ino.

It opens its mouth and tilts its head questioningly and Ino understands a moment later, turning to look at Sakura.

“Did you want anything tumbled or cut?” She asks, smiling proudly. “They’re the best little craftsmen I’ve ever seen.”

The elemental’s eyes glow brighter at the druid’s compliment, almost as if it were blushing.

“No, raw is perfect. Thank you though.” Chuckling under her breath, Sakura crouches down to let the stone creature place the lapis in her basket, the other elemental soon approaching with the topaz. She thanks the elementals and turns as Ino leads them back upstairs, thoroughly satisfied with her haul.

“Don’t be afraid to stop by for something other than ingredient shopping,” The druid says as she rings up her flowers and gemstones, stealing a glance at Sai as he stands just a few steps away.

“Would you like me to invite you along next time we go out for drinks?” Sakura asks with a smirk, opening up her wallet. She gives no indication of who she means by ‘we’, but Ino obviously seems to know as she grimaces and waves off the offer.

“Dog-breath can’t hold his alcohol and he’s disgustingly sentimental when he’s drunk.”

Sai is fairly certain they’re talking about that Kiba man and he frowns slightly, wondering just how close Sakura was to these two.

The two chat and laugh for a few minutes more as Ino packages everything up until, finally, Sakura is ready to go. She snatches up her purchase when she notices Sai reaching to carry them himself and she shoots him a frown, obviously still unhappy about him tagging along. Refusing to let him take the bags, she sends Ino a wave in farewell and heads for the door, sighing when he moves to open and hold the door for her.

Sakura can still hear the druid’s laughter as they walk out onto the street and she immediately turns back the way she’d come, recalling a shop in the main district that would likely have mirrors for her scrying. That should be the last thing she needs for the spell and, though she’d had every intention of getting everything over with tonight, a yawn catches her by surprise and she grumbles under her breath. Maybe Ino had a point.

She can tell the moment Sai transforms behind her by the sound of his footsteps on the cobblestone abruptly stopping, but she pays him no mind, only slightly concerned with him getting trampled. If he did, it was his own damn fault.

She’s surprised, however, as she feels something hop up onto her shoulder, a soft tail wrapping around the back of her neck and tickling her jaw, and the cat barely has a moment to get comfortable before he’s encased in a familiar sphere of magic.

He hovers above her shoulder by a few inches before Sakura deposits him on the ground and narrows her eyes, her voice particularly icy.

“Do that again and you’ll be sleeping outside until further notice.”

“A soul doesn’t particularly need to sleep,” Sai counters and her eyes narrow further, annoyed by the slight amusement in his tone.

“I can banish you from the house entirely, if you’d prefer that?”

Sakura smirks when his relaxed posture stiffens and his ears lay flat, obviously not fond of the idea. She continues on down the street and the cat follows close behind her, his small paws tap-tapping almost silently against the stone.

She finds the store she was looking for easily enough and is pleased with their selection of mirrors, picking out five once she’s verified that they’re fresh and unused. These Sakura does, begrudgingly, allow Sai to carry when he shifts into his human form and takes the wrapped packages from the shopkeep, but only because she knows she’ll need a hand free to draw her doorway.

The pair head back onto the street and through the pop-up market, only for Sakura to pause as she spots a stall selling different types of jewelry chains. She regards the stand thoughtfully for a moment before heading towards it, Sai following curiously behind her.

The lengths of chain are sold either by inches, the full pieces wrapped around a spool for the seller to pull and collect from, or in preset sizes, clasps and locks already attached. It’s a pretty wide array of metals - silver, gold, copper, brass, iron, and so on - and, while some are already enchanted (a few select pieces of the pre-sized necklaces and bracelets), most are normal, simple chains ready for crafting.

Sakura speaks to the stall owner for a few moments and walks away with 40 inches of a thin, perfectly normal, gold chain, packaged up and slipped into her purse. She ignores Sai’s questioning look in favor of continuing her walk down the market street to the familiar brick wall, soon shifting her hold on the flowers to retrieve the cloth holding the piece of chalk.

Feeling Sai’s eyes on her as he watches curiously, Sakura draws her door once more and puts the chalk away again once she’d drawn her sigils. With her hand against the brick and a pulse of magic sent through the traveling chalk, she grabs the handle once it's formed and pushes the door open. On the other side is her garden and Sai peers through the doorway, having missed this part earlier when he’d stowed away in the locket.

Gesturing for him to go through first, Sakura waits until he’s standing on the fallen red maple leaves before joining him and shutting the door behind her, the handle turning to bark and the edges melting back into the tree. Sai rests a hand against the trunk for a moment, feeling for where the door had been, before he realizes that Sakura is already heading towards the kitchen door.

“Take the mirrors to the workshop and set them on the table with the lamp,” Sakura orders as they enter the house. She heads to a cabinet to grab a vase for the flowers and Sai nods, pausing when she speaks again.

“Leave your locket with me.”

He has to admit, he’s a little nervous about her intentions and hesitates before he gives another quick nod and leaves the kitchen. Leaving the wrappings on, he puts the mirrors into tidy stacks, the two larger ones together and the other three just next to them, before stepping back into the living room. Sakura approaches with all of her flowers set up in a vase, a few inches of fresh water at the bottom, and the paper bag containing the gemstones and wrapped bittersweet tucked under her arm.

She brushes past him and into the workshop and, as Sai turns to follow her, the door abruptly shuts in his face.

Sai stares at it for a moment, wondering if she was really that upset with him for tagging along, before hesitantly giving it a polite knock.

“Sakura? May I join you?”

“No.”

He frowns and considers questioning her further, but decides it would probably be best to just not bother her right now. Sighing, Sai turns away and shifts forms before hopping onto the couch and curling up, the tip of his tail flicking every so often as he rests his chin on his crossed paws and watches the door.

It finally opens and Sakura emerges about an hour later, her long hair pulled up in a bun and her black gloves tucked into her pants’ pocket. Sai quickly sits up and, from his spot, he can see that the mirrors have been moved to her desk but are all still wrapped.

He sends her a confused look and Sakura stretches as she approaches the couch, rubbing the back of her neck as she yawns.

“Alright,” She says when she looks at him. “Human form for a minute.”

Sai hesitates a moment before he shifts forms again, startling slightly when Sakura suddenly tosses something to him. He catches it easily and opens his hand to find his locket, a new gold jump ring connecting it to the chain she’d bought earlier.

It's only about 18 inches of the chain and has a clasp on one end and another jump ring on the other. He can feel a bit of her magic still thrumming through the metal and a quick glance through the still-open door to see jewelers tools and pliers on her worktable confirms his suspicions.

“This way you don’t have to smuggle the locket into my bags to follow me,” Sakura says as she crosses her arms and leans against the sofa. Sai thinks for a moment that she means to wear his locket herself and he hopes that she’s finally taken his offer to be her familiar, but then she continues.

“Try it on and make sure it fits right.” She nods down at the necklace, dashing his hopes. “If it’s too tight I can add more links, but it needs to be short enough to not slip over your head.”

His disappointment doesn’t make it to his face and Sai simply sends her an empty smile and nods. But he struggles with the small clasp for a few moments and Sakura sighs, taking the necklace and tapping his back to make him scoot forward as she moves behind him.

“It’s nothing too special,” She explains as she places the chain around his neck and holds open the clasp with her thumb nail. “Just a charm to keep the locket from falling off, something to match your transformations, and an anti-tampering ward.”

Sakura steps back once it's connected properly, the metal feeling comfortably warm against his pale skin rather than cold like he’d been expecting.

“Only you or myself can remove it,” Her green gaze looks over the chain as she stops in front of him again before her expression softens just slightly. “How's it feel, Sai?”

He’s certain she can’t hear his purr even as it thrums softly in his chest at the sound of her saying his name and he feels at the necklace for a moment, centering the locket before he looks up at her with a slightly more genuine smile.

“It fits perfectly. Thank you, Sakura.”

She waves his thanks off and nods, gesturing with her chin. “Go on, cat form again. Gotta make sure the spell works right.”

Sai hums before he shifts, expecting to feel the chain links catch on the fur of his neck, but is surprised when it doesn’t. The necklace shrinks to match his smaller size and, while it still holds the same weight, it doesn’t move like a chain. Had he been able to see his reflection, he would have seen that the necklace had taken the form of a normal cat collar, the locket charm the only unchanged part.

“A cat wearing a chain would look odd,” Sakura explains before yawning again. She checks the time on her phone while Sai bats a curious paw at the charm before she sighs and starts to head upstairs.

“I’m going to take a nap before I do my scrying,” She mutters, knowing the flowers would stay open and fresh for several days thanks to Ino’s touch. “Try not to wake me.”

Sai hops up onto the top of the back of the couch and watches her as he sits, wanting to follow her but deciding to give Sakura some space as thanks. Perhaps he’d take this time to finally do some exploring.

“Rest well,” He calls, a pleased purr settling in his chest when she returns the sentiment and leaves his line of sight. Sai listens to her footsteps as she wanders around on the second floor for a few minutes before she finally crawls into bed and the house falls silent.

#saisaku #sakura haruno #multisaku #slight inosaku #thirrinwrites #thirrinfic #wine red #id planned on more happening in this chapter but it ended up longer than i was expecting #next update from me should be for midas touch #ino wasnt even gonna BE in this chapter but she got in somehow

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halfandhalfshoto · 4 years

Text

your blue is my gold | nishinoya yuu

- soulmate!au

- pairing: nishinoya yuu x fem!reader

- warnings: angst!(??)

- word count: 1,941

THE PHENOMENA OF THE SOULMATE TATTOO

A person is born with a small, black, faded tattoo on any part of their body. Each year, it becomes more distinct as the time it takes for two souls, with the exact same tattoos, to meet draws near.

Once face to face, their tattoos change color depending on how they classify each other. Blue for strangers, purple for acquaintances, yellow for friends, and gold for love. A person's tattoo turns white once their soulmate passes away.

Soulmate tattoos may appear on different parts of the body. One could have their tattoo on the wrist, while their soulmate could have their tattoo on the face.

The colors may jump depending on the nature of the relationship, such as when purple tattoos turn gold.

Of course, their soulmate's tattoo can have a completely different color than theirs.

——————————

He definitely cannot take his eyes off you as you introduced yourself in front of the class. He noticed the sparks in your eyes that made you seem ethereal to every other being that locked gazes with yours, the tone of your voice as it seemed like you were captivating an entire audience, and the smile on your lips that seemed to prove that you were a descendant of an angel.

Everything seemed too perfect for Nishinoya Yuu.

You were a transfer student from Tokyo, moved to Miyagi because your father had to work there. As someone open to new experiences, you didn't have a single complaint despite moving away from the city you grew up in and leaving all your friends. After all, you were sure you're gonna come back someday.

“Hi, I'm y/n! I love Gari-Gari Kun and Soba. I hope I could get along with everyone!” You finished your introduction with a bow and turned to the teacher for her to tell you where you'd be sitting.

She told you that you could sit next to Etsu, who was a seat behind Nishinoya.

Walking towards your designated seat, you fail to notice the pair of brown orbs glancing back and forth from his notebook to you in an obvious manner.

“Hi, I'm Etsu! Nice to meet you,” A short-haired girl with grey eyes greeted. You looked at her to greet her back, but you immediately noticed something under her right eye.

It was a tattoo of a quill with the word “perfect” written beside it,

And it was gold.

Etsu felt your fixation on her tattoo so she explained, “Oh, you noticed my tattoo! My soulmate's Akio over there,” She smiled as she pointed out to a black-haired boy a few seats away. You followed her gaze and saw that the said boy also had the same tattoo, the golden, very distinct quill on his left hand.

“It must be nice to meet your soulmate and have him reciprocate your feelings at this age,” You giggled as you felt a familiar wave wash over you. That eager yet fearful wave of wanting to find your soulmate, and at the same time, not wanting anything tying you down to a single entity for life.

You reached up to your collarbone, covered by your uniform, and thought about your tattoo. You noticed it was becoming more distinct day by day.

Could it be, that your soulmate was here in Miyagi?

—

“RYU, I'M TELLING YOU! SHE HAD A PERFECT SMILE, HER EYES WERE LITERAL STARS AND HER VOICE FELT LIKE SOMETHING I'D HEAR WHEN I ENTER HEAVEN!” Nishinoya went on, rambling about the girl who transferred from Tokyo. It was lunch break and you were all he ever talked about. Tanaka gave him a doubtful laugh, and proceeded to defend his case.

“There's no way she's on the level of our goddess Kiyoko! Seriously Noya-san, what you're saying is IMPOSSIBLE!” He defended, heart-eyes somewhat evident on his face.

It was true though. No one was on the level of Shimizu when it came to Tanaka and Nishinoya. Although somehow, in some way, you were on the same level as her in Nishinoya's eyes.

Hearing the doubt in his friend's voice, Nishinoya stood up from the bench. His confidence oozing out of him as he grabbed Tanaka's arm, pulling him towards the cafeteria where you and Etsu went.

He scanned the area looking for the target, and locked his eyes on your figure. He turned to the taller male, who was rubbing his arm that hurt a bit at how the other pulled it.

“There she is! See for yourself,” Nishinoya, who was smirking, told him.

Tanaka checked the girl who was somewhat perfect enough for his friend to equate her to Kiyoko.

You were sitting next to Etsu and facing Akio.

'Well, she's cute enough for Noya-san, but no one can possibly beat my Kiyoko' Tanaka thought, about to lead Nishinoya back to where they were hanging out, but the dual-haired boy was suddenly like a statue.

“Ryu, I t-think we j-just made eye contact. She s-saw us,” He stuttered. Tanaka's eyebrows furrowed in confusion. He looked back and true enough, you were staring at them. Your eyes were filled with curiosity. Who wouldn't be though? Finding some boys secretly looking at you.

Both boys immediately show deep shades of red on their faces, their usual rowdy and confident selves suddenly nowhere to be found. They ran back to the halls as quickly as they could, before you could even get a chance to ask them what was up.

“Hey y/n, you okay?” Etsu asked, snapping her fingers in front of you. The trance you were in shattered, you nod to Etsu's questioning look and proceed to eat

'He's cute' were the words that popped into your mind as you pictured the boy who'd caught your eye.

—

There you stood in your home, stunned at the sight of the mirror in front of you.

“When did this happen?” you whispered as your fingers graze the blue ink on your collarbone.

'Shit. When did I meet them?' You were internally panicking because of this troublesome ink. Sure, you wanted to find out who they were, but falling in love and being tied to them forever? No. You weren't ready for that just yet.

'Maybe I shouldn't find out who they are for a while.'

—

Nishinoya was ecstatic to say the least. He'd dreamed for this day to come, for his tattoo to finally change its color.

The color blue, a stranger for a soulmate.

He wasn't the one who discovered it first, unfortunately. They were having a practice match against Date Tech, it was the 3rd set and the score was 24-22, match point for Karasuno. He went in for a dive after Azumane's spike was blocked by the Iron Wall, and that's when someone finally noticed it.

Hinata, who was waiting on the sidelines, noticed something when Nishinoya's shorts hiked up a bit as he went in for that dive receive.

“Noya-san!” The ginger head called out as they were cleaning the gym after the practice match. Karasuno won the 3rd set, much to their delight.

"Hey, Shoyo! What's up?” Nishinoya asked as he stopped cleaning the floor. He saw the way Hinata's eyes were in awe and thought that maybe he was on a roll with his receives today.

“YOUR SOULMATE TATTOO'S BLUE!” Hinata blurted out and suddenly all eyes were on the libero.

His eyes widen in shock as he looked back at his shorts. Hiking it up a bit, there it was.

His tattoo was placed on the back of his thighs, just above where the knee was placed.

It was a small tattoo of the solar system, the 8 planets orbiting around the sun.

Nishinoya knew it was almost time for him to meet his soulmate, as every night he spends a few minutes in front of the mirror, staring quietly at his tattoo. It became quite distinct these days, and now it was blue.

“Hey, maybe your soulmate's that new girl,” Tanaka joked, laughing out loud, thinking it was impossible. Oh, if only he knew that his soulmate was the girl they'd been chasing for years. If only he and Shimizu actually saw each other's tattoo.

“Well, it's not impossible,” Nishinoya retorted, a glimmer of hope in his heart that told him you were his soulmate. A little crush he had from his class.

—

A few months have passed, and Nishinoya still didn't know who his soulmate was. Yeah, he kept searching, but he can't just ask anyone to show them their tattoo.

In those months, Nishinoya's little crush on you grew a lot. You guys weren't technically friends, and you didn't really know him, but that didn't stop his affections from growing.

It was a shame he was never partnered with you, or be grouped with you during homeworks and projects.

One time, he saw you in Coach Ukai's shop. You were buying Gari-Gari Kun, soda flavor, his favorite.

Another time, he saw you on the street. You were with a kid and she was laughing loud enough for almost everyone to hear as you tickled her.

'Girls who are good with kids are cute.' He thought as he smiled.

Then, another time, he saw you feeding some stray dogs and cats food, petting them as they ate.

Did you have to be like that? Did you have to make his heart soar everytime he saw you? Did you have to steal the love he was supposed to give to his soulmate?

Nishinoya ignored these little things about you that made him happy. He ignored the thought of loving you because you didn't know him. Heck, you couldn't possibly be his soulmate.

His tattoo had already turned into a different color, which meant his soulmate was, maybe, one of his friends.

—

You made your way through the Tokyo Metropolitan Gym, along with Etsu and Akio, finding some good seats to be able to watch your school's boys' volleyball team play.

Karasuno had made it to Nationals, and Akio, who was a good friend of Nishinoya, dragged both Etsu and you to Tokyo to watch their games.

“Is this the first time our school's gone to Nationals?” You asked innocently, seeing the seats filled with people.

“Yeah, in years,” Akio answered as the three of you found some seats. They were close enough for the players to see you from the court.

“I hear that the first years were promising. Two had this crazy quick, one was good at blocking, and one knew how to do a jump float,” Etsu chipped in. Indeed, the first years of Karasuno were impressive, but the whole team was on another level.

The first match of Karasuno started, and it made you freeze.

—

Nishinoya switched out with Hinata, eyes glancing towards the bleachers. With that quick glance, he was able to see Akio immediately and waved. He looked over to the two girls sitting beside him, identifying one as Etsu.

The arm he'd used to wave was left hanging in the air, as you were staring intently at him, shock written all over your face.

That wasn't what surprised him. Not the fact that you came to the game, not the fact that you were staring at him. No, those weren't it.

You were wearing an off shoulder top, showing off your collarbone.

Your collarbone which had the exact same tattoo as his.

His heart shattered at the next thing he noticed.

Your tattoo was blue.

His was gold.

You were the love of his life, but he was a stranger in yours.

#haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu imagines #nishinoya yuu #nishinoya x reader #hq #hq x reader #hq imagines #haikyuu nishinoya #nishinoya soulmate au #nishinoya angst

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fanarthasmyheart · 4 years

Text

Chapter two of my Draco POV-fic is up (link in source)! It tells the Harry Potter-books from Draco’s perspective with Drarry added in. Here’s a scene from the new chapter:

Draco couldn’t have imagined hating anyone more than that tosser Ron Weasley, but his little sister truly took the crown. The Weasley-girl kept eyeing Harry Potter wherever he went, staring like he was a famous piece of art at best, and a glass of water in the middle of a dessert at worst. It was embarrassing for everyone.

‘Want to bet how fast they end up together?’ Draco complained, sitting in the library with Pansy. ‘She’s basically a female version of his dense bodyguard.’

‘Who?’ Pansy had the audacity to ask.

Draco slammed his hand in the direction of the Weasley-girl, who was blatantly ogling Harry from behind a bookcase.

Harry Potter obviously didn’t notice. He was cluelessly giggling at one thing or another, and playing some dumb game with the Monkey Weasley, while Granger slaved away on her homework as usual.

‘Oh Malfoy, please, the girl doesn’t talk,’ Pansy said. ‘Now Romilda Vane, that’s your true rival in this game.’

‘Rotilda’s fugly,’ Draco grumbled. ‘What game? What are you insinuating here exactly?’

She looked at him with a knowing smile, that told Draco absolutely nothing.

Meanwhile, the Weasley twins gathered around Granger, Weasley and Potter, as if the family wasn’t smothering him enough already. The Weasley Girl was still watching too.

‘Merde, I wish that blood traitor family would stop suffocating him.’

‘He doesn’t seem suffocated.’

‘Yes, he does,’ snapped Draco. ‘He looks tired.’

‘Oh Merlin, Draco! Why don’t you join their group, or something? So you could suffocate him.’

‘I loathe them all.’

‘Just go up to him and ask if he wants to play Quidditch with you, or Wizard Chess or anything. I bet he says yes at once, he’s so eager for you.’

Draco scowled at her. ‘You don’t simply walk up to Harry J. Potter.’

‘Weak little boy.’

He glared at her.

‘Oh,’ said Pansy, eyes aglow, ‘did you know the Bastards have a codename for you?’

“The Bastards” was Pansy’s way to indicate their professors.

‘They call you and Potter “Crimson & Clover”.’

‘Me-and-Potter?’ Draco sneered. ‘You’re joking.’

‘I am not. I heard them talk about “Crimson and Clover” fighting on the stairs, right after you and Potter had been fighting there. It wasn’t a brain wrecker to decipher.’

For a second, Draco didn’t know what to say. ‘They – They talk about Potter and me behind our backs? Do they have a nickname for everyone Potter hangs out with?’

‘Don’t think so.’

Crimson and Clover… It sounded alright. It wouldn’t have mattered really, they could have called them Dumb and Dumber for all Draco cared, as long as they lumped him together with The Boy Who Lived.

‘Clover because of his eyes?’ he wondered out loud.

Pansy had to muffle her laughter with both hands.

Draco blinked, then realized. His face felt hot. ‘Oh! No!’

Crimson for Gryffindor, Clover for Slytherin!

‘Please, can you forget I said that?’

‘Never,’ shrieked Pansy. ‘Boy oh boy, you’re so weak for him!’

‘Shut up!’

Pansy was crying with laughter. This conversation sickened Draco. It was all too weird.

‘That’s it, I’m out.’

Gathering his stuff, he swaggered out of the library. ‘Potter,’ he hissed in passing while firing a slapping charm.

Harry was so heavily surrounded by Weasleys that he didn’t notice Draco in time. His head bopped forward, Draco jeered, and at once, all the gingers stepped aside, pointing their wands at Draco. None so accomplished in the art of self-defence as Harry, he easily beat them all to it. Whirling around, he made the ink of Granger’s ink pot float out, and hurled it at Draco.

With a loud gasp, Draco looked down at his once bright white shirt. Harry, all the gingers and even Pansy laughed so hysterically that Madame Pince dashed up to them. She gasped even louder than Draco at the sight of his shirt and sent him outside with a shrieked, ‘No tomfoolery with ink around books!’

Harry jumped up. ‘Wait, Dra, I know how to clean – ’

‘You think I don’t know?’ snapped Draco.

Harry groaned, grabbing Draco’s sleeve. ‘Will I ever be able to impress you?’

Standing outside, away from everyone, Draco put away his wand and lifted his arms. ‘Hit me with your best shot.’

With a face like he invented the spell himself, Harry Scorgified Draco’s blouse. It worked barely a little, but Harry seemed delighted.

Draco looked down at his shirt. ‘Good grief, Potter, you suck. You would not look so proud of this half-arsed job if you knew my mother even in the slightest.’

Harry grinned. ‘Then I’m glad I don’t.’

Draco Scorgified the shirt properly. ‘What game were you playing with the Weasel?’

‘Ron, you mean. Hangman; it’s a Muggle game.’

Draco scoffed. ‘Living Hangman’s way better. Especially if you use Muggles.’

Harry’s eyes grew big, until he recognised Draco’s jeering face. He smiled in relief. ‘You’re horrible.’

Harry lingered, watching Draco Scorgify. It encouraged Draco. Mustering up the nerve, he took a deep breath and in his most bored drawl he asked: ‘Fancy a game of Quidditch later?’

‘Yes!’ Harry’s face clouded over. ‘Oh, but I’m not allowed.’

Draco frowned.

‘Our Captain doesn’t want us to share techniques with the other teams.’

‘It’s not sharing techniques,’ Draco scoffed.

‘He literally stared me straight in the eye and said “No flying in front of Malfoy!” It was scary, like he read my mind.’

Draco tried not to grin. What exactly had been in Potter’s mind, he wondered.

He wrecked his brain for a loophole in Wood’s ban, but couldn’t think of anything. ‘Merlin, that sucks…’

Harry muttered another ‘Scorgify’, aimed at Draco’s hair. Then, frowning, he lifted his hand. ‘It doesn’t go out, stand still…’

He scratched some ink out of Draco’s hair. Draco felt a great swoop in his stomach; like he was diving fast with his Nimbus Two Thousand And One.

‘There,’ Harry mumbled, his fingers covered in ink stains.

Harry Potter was such a scruffy kid, Mother would never allow someone like him even near the Manor. His fingernails had black lines underneath them, his leisurewear was oversized, faded and threadbare, his thick, cheap glasses seemed to have been poorly repaired at least a dozen times, and his crackling, black hair was full of tangles, like he hadn’t allowed a comb near it in years.

Meanwhile, his grass green eyes stood out between two thick layers of ink black eyelashes and seemed almost luminous beneath his dark, shading eyebrows. He looked like a mix of Heathcliff and Peter Pan, who, unfortunately, just happened to be two of Draco’s favourite fictional characters.

‘Sorry,’ Harry muttered when he saw Draco staring at his dirty nails. He tried cleaning the ink from his fingers with a bit of spit. ‘Looked pretty cool though, didn’t it? The ink floating through the air?’

‘I suppose,’ Draco drawled, trying with all his might to keep his awe in check.

‘Right…’ Harry put his hands in his pocket, and turned to leave. Looking over his shoulder, his magnificent eyes swept over Draco from head to toe one last time. ‘See you around, Malfoy.’

And with that, he abandoned Draco again, leaving him standing in the middle of an empty corridor, alone with his screaming thoughts, feeling nauseous and hot.

Why was Draco so hell-bent to befriend the one person at Hogwarts he couldn’t and shouldn’t befriend? And why was it so difficult?

#drarry #draco malfoy #draco malfoy pov #hp #harry potter #fanfic #canon rewrite #margot writes

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afternoonteawithme · 4 years

Text

Lan Wangji’s Favorite Shade of Black

Fandom: MZDS / Pairing: WangXian / Rating: T / WC: 5206

(read it on AO3)

Music floated in the air as twilight fell across Cloud Recesses, escaping from the homes scattered across the mountain through doors left wide and open to the summer evening. Deep zither notes blended with lilting flute melodies, the soft traces of music mingling with the scent of gardenia as a gentle breeze rustled along the bushes lining the winding white stone paths.

The soft wind flowed onwards, the music it carried almost silent by the time it swirled into the courtyard of a small building set a little apart from the rest. Warm light poured out from inside, flashing against deep purple as it landed on the gentian dancing in the breeze.

Inside, a man dressed all in white sat straight-backed at a low desk. Here the scent of flowers gave way to the sandalwood incense burning in the corner, and the only sounds were the faint whisper of his brush smoothly gliding across paper and the murmuring of the two boys sitting together on the other side of the room.

Very deliberately Lan Wangji ignored the boys, and their conversation.

He’d caught just enough to know they were discussing whether they should ask him about something Lan Qiren had refused to explain, but otherwise he left them to themselves. His reasoning for allowing Sizhui to invite Lan Jingyi into their home - during the time usually allocated for the members of the Gusu Lan Sect to be alone with only their closest family - was so that Sizhui would grow up knowing what it was to enjoy spending time with his friends, so he felt censuring the boys or monitoring them too closely would be counter-productive.

Those precious days he and his brother had spent with their mother, before her death, had been nothing but memories for most of his adolescence. When he had spent his evenings with the few members of his family that still lived and were not in seclusion his time had been occupied with following in his brother’s footsteps, trying to in some way ease the burdens Lan Xichen carried as the heir to the Gusu Lan Sect.

The other disciples, whether of his own sect or visiting Cloud Recesses to study under his uncle, had been of no interest to him. He’d spent his entire childhood studying, training, rigidly learning the rules of his sect in the belief that everything in life would fall neatly into place so long as he followed those rules, without fail.

He’d been wrong. That had been a bloody, pain filled lesson to learn, one that had given him scars he would carry forever.

Lan Wangji didn’t want that for A-Yuan.

Sizhui, at twelve, was changing quickly from the boy he’d been into a young man Lan Wangji could only be proud of. He was clever, bright, gentle, and strong, and since his studies and cultivation progress were fast enough to satisfy the requirements of even the strictest of Lan elders Lan Wangji was largely allowed to raise him as he pleased. So while he’d treasured the time he spent alone with Sizhui, he’d started to encourage him to invite his closest friend as well.

Lan Jingyi’s parents gratefully gave up their own solitary time - likely in the hope that some of Sizhui’s calm demeanor would rub off on their unrestrained son.

Lan Wangji never told them that he hoped for the opposite.

So, while the books on the table in front of the two boys stayed mostly unread, and Lan Jingyi laughed perhaps a little more loudly than was appropriate at something Sizhui whispered into his ear, Lan Wangji simply carried on writing and left them to it.

Still, he registered the moment when the whispering stopped, and he heard the two boys cross the room to stand beside his desk. He glanced up, seeing from the look on their faces that they’d likely decided to ask him whatever they’d been arguing over.

“Speak.”

“Hanguang Jun, could you tell us about the Yiling Patriarch?”

Sizhui’s question hit Lan Wangji with an abruptness that knocked the air out of his lungs. His shock must have shown on his face, as he stared up into Sizhui’s open, innocently curious eyes, because Sizhui’s expression rapidly changed from curiosity to concern.

Lan Jingyi started to speak, but stopped when Sizhui gripped his wrist.

“It’s alright, Hanguang Jun. Actually, Grandmaster didn’t want us to talk about him, so there’s no need for us to know any more.”

Dropping his gaze away, Lan Wangji saw his hand, still holding his brush, frozen in the air halfway to his inkstone. Deliberately, he made his arm move, forcing himself to breathe as he dipped the brush into ink.

“It’s fine. Sit.”

The boys exchanged glances, and then quickly moved to sit in front of the desk.

“Why did you ask?” Not truly knowing what he was writing, but finding it impossible to do nothing, Lan Wangji let his hand move across the paper in front of him.

“One of the outside disciples asked Grandmaster about him in class today. He got…a little upset.” Sizhui spoke cautiously, but Lan Wangji had enough personal experience to know exactly how furious Lan Qiren became at the slightest mention of Wei Wuxian.

“I see.”

“He said that the Yiling Patriarch had followed a heretical path, threatening the entire cultivation world, and so the greater sects banded together to defeat him at great cost. He said that nothing else about him was worth discussing, so he wouldn’t speak of him anymore.”

“And then he told the disciple who asked about him to copy Virtue twice.” Lan Jingyi added.

Sizhui nodded, “Yes. And then, well, Jingyi…” He slid a sideways glance at his friend.

“I said that if the path he followed was really all that bad I didn’t understand why we still use his compass and talismans to night hunt.” Lan Jingyi shuddered a little at the memory. “He, uh, got a lot more angry. His face went really red. There was spit on my table.”

“He told Jingyi to copy Virtue five times, and Conduct too.”

Lan Wangji was only surprised Lan Qiren had stopped there. Since he felt calmer now, he let himself look over at the table where the two had been sitting, still covered in closed books and blank sheets of paper.

“And is that what you were doing?”

A little embarrassed, Lan Jingyi tugged at his ear. “Sorry, Hanguang Jun. I’ll do it in the morning. It doesn’t take me long to get through, I’ve had to do it so many times.”

Lan Wangji studied him, and in a corner of his mind decided he’d come up with something new the next time he had to punish the junior disciples. Simply copying was clearly no longer enough.

“But Grandmaster did tell us a little more after that.” Sizhui continued. “He said that the Yiling Patriarch’s methods had blackened his own soul, turning him into a monster who would corrupt anyone who got too close to him. He said that he’d even left his mark on the Gusu Lan Sect, though he wouldn’t say how, or who.”

Lan Jingyi nodded. “He just said that now the Yiling Patriarch couldn’t corrupt anyone but himself any more than he already had, so he was glad he was dead.”

At that, Lan Wangji’s brief calm scattered. His hands formed into fists, tightening, and tightening more until he felt the silent snap of the wooden brush he’d forgotten he still held.

Gently, carefully, he laid it down on the desk.

“He really wouldn’t say more after that. But after class the outside disciples were talking.” Lan Jingyi said. “One of the Lanling Jin Sect disciples, especially. He told everyone that the Yiling Patriarch was a traitor who defected after the Sunshot Campaign, and that a bunch of cultivators died because of him when they tried to defend themselves from the- well, he called them the Wen-dogs and-”

Lan Wangji’s head snapped up. “Don’t allow others to refer to them in that way.”

“Oh no, we didn’t.” Lan Jingyi glanced at Sizhui, who flushed a little and ducked his head. “Sizhui told them not to. That was when all the rest of the Jin disciples got huffy and tried to make Sizhui apologize, because they said he’d insulted Lianfang Zun’s cousin, and when he wouldn’t they tried to start a fight, which is even more stupid because Sizhui-” Lan Jingyi’s words cut off abruptly when he turned his head again and caught the wide-eyed alarm on Sizhui’s face. “Um- well. Anyway, Sizhui told him not to do that anymore. And no one fought anyone, at all.”

Sizhui didn’t quite meet Lan Wangji’s eyes as he hurriedly spoke. “All the disciples had stories about him digging up someone’s ancestor, or cursing some clan for offending him. Sect Leader Yao’s son said his father always talks about how ungrateful he was, how he would have been nothing at all if it weren’t for the Yunmeng Jiang Sect taking him in, and then he killed them all except for Sect Leader Jiang. But only because he killed him first.”

“Yes.” Lan Jingyi nodded, “But he also said his father told him that the Yiling Patriarch steals bad children away in the night if they don’t listen to their parents, and he still believes him, so I don’t think we can trust anything he says.”

“I suppose not. And a lot of the rest of the stories don’t really add up, like him going around and poisoning wells, or making food stores go rotten. If he really did half the things they said then he must have had a great deal of spare time on his hands.”

“I bet most of the rumors are made up.” Lan Jingyi snorted. “Like him stealing people’s wives.”

That caught Lan Wangji’s attention. “Stealing people’s wives?”

“Apparently some clan head’s wife was kidnapped by the Yiling Patriarch. But we think she ran off with him on her own and her husband was just too ashamed to tell everyone the truth.”

Considering, Lan Wangji angled his head. “Hm.”

“But…” Sizhui looked at Lan Wangji. “Even if most of the rumors about the things he did are made up, Grandmaster said that when the sects fought against him, especially at the end, a lot of people died. That part was true, wasn’t it?”

Lan Wangji studied Sizhui’s expression for a long second, before nodding.

“So he was an evil person?”

The question, said so simply, dug under Lan Wangji’s skin like a sharp, jagged blade. Not speaking, he dropped his gaze to the paper he’d been mindlessly writing on. To his utter shock he saw he’d drawn the characters for Wei Ying’s name.

Simply seeing that intimate name, so bold and black against the white of the paper, Lan Wangji felt his thoughts turn to smoke.

He hadn’t planned to explain Wei Ying to Sizhui yet. He hadn’t known how. If he couldn’t make his brother or his uncle understand the faith he felt in him, despite everything he’d done, how could he explain it in a way a child would accept? Especially A-Yuan. Lan Wangji couldn’t bear the idea of A-Yuan hating Wei Ying. Or worse, of him being glad he was dead.

And yet now the child he had watched Wei Ying carry in his arms was asking him, in all innocence and trust, if the man who had saved him had been evil.

When Lan Wangji lifted his head to meet Sizhui’s eyes, he found them calm and direct, as they nearly always were. Lan Jingyi beside him had his mouth clamped shut, though he looked as though he was almost vibrating in place while he waited for Lan Wangji to answer Sizhui’s question.

Somehow, even the silence of the room seemed be holding its breath, waiting for him to speak. But Lan Wangji’s head was empty of coherent thought, so even when he opened his mouth he had no idea what would come out.

“He was very irritating.”

The two young faces watching him showed almost as much surprise as Lan Wangji felt, and yet the words continued to pour out of him.

“He was loud, obnoxious, aggravating. Noisy. Completely shameless. Impossible to ignore. It was hard to focus on anything else, when he was beside you. He’d make you furious, and then he’d do something that made you feel as if he was the most remarkable person you’d ever met. And then he’d make you furious again.”

Lan Wangji dropped his eyes, studied the curving lines of black ink on the paper in front of him. “He was always laughing.”

“Laughing?” Sizhui asked, when Lan Wangji said nothing else.

“Mn. Even when the situation seemed terrible, he’d find something to laugh about.” Lan Wangji stared at the broken brush on his desk. There had been times Wei Ying hadn’t been able to laugh. He didn’t like remembering those times, since they held a great many of his own worst memories.

“He wasn’t a fool though, was he?” Lan Jingyi asked, leaning forward, unable to keep quiet any longer. “He couldn’t have done everything he did if he was.”

“He wasn’t. But he’d pretend to be one, if he needed to.”

Lan Jingyi frowned. “Why would he need to?”

“To protect himself, to protect others.” He ignored the blank looks on the boy’s faces. It was something he’d seen Wei Ying do again and again, but it was so alien to Lan Wangji’s own character that he knew he wouldn’t be able to explain it any more clearly. “Protecting others was…very important to Wei- to Wei Wuxian.”

“So that rumor about him defecting to the Qishan Wen Sect and defending it from the rest of the sects – that was true?”

Hesitating, Lan Wangji wondered how to explain. Especially to Sizhui, who would one day very much need to understand the truth behind that particular story.

“In a way, yes.”

“In a way?”

“The Qishan Wen Sect was destroyed in the Sunshot Campaign. After that, all that was left was the people.”

Sizhui suddenly frowned. “The people?”

“Oh, I think I know what you mean.” Lan Jingyi sat up straight, speaking eagerly as he turned to Sizhui. “Grandmaster told us that by the time Lianfang Zun killed Wen Ruohan, his sons and most of his generals were already dead, so there wasn’t really much fighting after that. The territory was divided between the other sects.” He looked up at Lan Wangji. “The people must have been taken in along with their lands, right?”

”No.” Sizhui spoke slowly, before Lan Wangji could say anything. “Remember, the disciple from Qinghe was talking about that today, after all the Jin disciples left? He said that some Lanling Jin clans actually used to be under the Qishan Wen Sect, which was why a few of them looked really uncomfortable when we were talking about the Yiling Patriarch defecting. He said that Sect Leader Nie had shown him records listing which of the clans bordering Qinghe had been brought in by Chifeng Zun because they’d already intermarried with Nie Sect clans before the Sunshot Campaign, but he told him some of the richer clans were taken in by the Lanling Jin Sect.”

“Then who did the Yiling Patriarch side with?”

“I think I- I might know what happened.” Sizhui started, and then shut his mouth.

Lan Wangji met his eyes again and saw, with both pride and a little regret, the understanding in them. “Go on.”

“Some clans would have been useful to the greater sects, especially the ones with more money, or with valuable cultivators.” As he spoke, Sizhui watched Lan Wangji’s face, reading his reactions. “Especially if they were powerful enough that their belongings couldn’t simply be seized. But not all of the clans under Qishan Wen would have had those resources. And not everyone would have belonged to a clan. The ones without, maybe – were those the people the Yiling Patriarch sided with?”

Lan Jingyi nodded. “It makes sense. I mean, if the other sects felt the Gusu Lan Sect had done something very wrong and attacked us tomorrow, what would happen to the ordinary people of Gusu? Or even retired cultivators, or former disciples who decided to go be farmers, or fishermen instead. They’d be in the way.”

Saying nothing, Lan Wangji watched the two young men as they, on their own, saw into the complexities of something that many of his own generation, and his uncle’s, still remained blind to.

Sizhui nodded. “I think the Yiling Patriarch must have had a strong sense of justice.”

Lan Jingyi made a face and elbowed Sizhui. “See? Told you those rumors were stupid. No one is that petty. And he sounds so much more interesting than all the other boring people Grandmaster goes on and on about all the time.” Abruptly, as if suddenly remembering who else was in the room, he shot Lan Wangji a slightly panicked look.

Sizhui spoke quickly, attracting Lan Wangji’s attention. “Was the Yiling Patriarch very weak, when he was younger? Was that why he chose to find other ways to gain power?”

Lan Wangji shook his head, slowly, as he let himself remember the past. “He ranked near the top whenever the clans competed. We fought a few times. He was a strong swordsman.”

“Better than you?” Lan Jingyi blurted out the question, his eyes wide.

“No.” Lan Wangji said immediately, and then paused for a moment before correcting himself. “I don’t know. At first we never fought to the end, so neither of us ever beat the other. And after the Sunshot Campaign he stopped carrying his sword.”

“If he was that good, why didn’t he use his sword anymore?”

It was a question Lan Wangji had asked over and over, and one Wei Ying had given him so many different answers to. He’d say he’d forgotten it. Or it had gotten in his way, so he’d set it down somewhere. He hadn’t felt like carrying it. It hadn’t matched his outfit. It was too easy to beat others and he’d gotten bored of everyone challenging him.

The more charitable people around them had said he was simply forgetful. More had called him out for being deliberately rude.

Lan Wangji had worried that he’d become too drunk on the power of the resentful spirits he’d learned to control to go back to using a simple sword, but even that answer had never fit any better than the ones Wei Ying had given him.

So, for now, Lan Wangji could only shake his head. “I don’t know. He used his flute, Chenqing, and he used the other talismans and tools he invented.”

Lan Jingyi sat up straight. “Talismans? Like the ones we’re learning to use when we go night hunting?”

“Mn.”

“There were others, like those?”

“He made many. The ones you use…they deviate from the orthodox, but are considered necessary evils. Others go too far. I doubt you’ll ever see them. But…” Lan Wangji hesitated, before continuing. “Some were different.”

“Different?”

“Mn. When we were young. He was always coming up with new things.” Lan Wangji looked into the boy’s eager faces, and wondered if it was selfish of him to want to show them this other side of Wei Ying.

But this was Wei Ying, to him, in all his complexity.

Making up his mind, he reached into his sleeve and drew out a talisman, activating and releasing it in one smooth motion.

A shimmering cloud of golden light exploded into the room. Sizhui and Lan Jingyi shot to their feet, their faces full of wonder as glittering butterflies filled the air

“In a fight, these distract, buy time to escape. They’re useful when there are people who can’t defend themselves close by.” Lan Wangji sat where he was, watching, remembering. He’d used this particular trick often, over the years. It had helped save him more than once.

A moment later, he realized that while Lan Jingyi was still staring up at the butterflies, awestruck, Sizhui had turned his head and was looking back at him instead.

“They’re very pretty.”

“Mn.” Lan Wangji nodded.

Sizhui smiled, softly, and his young eyes were full of understanding. “I think I have an idea of what kind of person the Yiling Patriarch was now.” He took Lan Jingyi’s arm to get his attention, and led him into a shallow bow. “Thank you for telling us. We’ll get back to work.”

Later, Lan Wangji sat alone.

He’d gone back to writing, with a new brush, while Sizhui had gotten Lan Jingyi through his copying. But Sizhui had left to bring Lan Jingyi home and the room had suddenly become far too quiet without the noise the two boys had been making to fill it.

Suddenly restless, Lan Wangji swept to his feet.

It was well past twilight and music was forbidden at night in Cloud Recesses, but that was one of the rules Lan Wangji had long since decided he couldn’t follow. Sitting in front of his guqin, he let his fingers start to play over the strings.

Music began to echo through the room. At first he kept to soothing, steadying songs, but when his mind refused to settle he began to pour the restlessness he felt, the turmoil beneath his rigid calm, out into the notes he played.

Bit by bit, he felt himself empty.

After a while, the music changed, becoming something close to peaceful, and Lan Wangji saw a movement in the doorway. He looked up, and found Sizhui standing just outside, watching him.

He placed his hands across the strings to quiet them.

“Did you bring Lan Jingyi home?”

Sizhui nodded, and then hesitated for a moment, before speaking. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you sad.”

There was no denying it, even if Lan Wangji had thought there was a good reason he should. “It’s alright to be sad, sometimes.”

“Yes, I know. You taught me that.” Smiling softly, Sizhui walked into the room and dropped down lightly to sit beside Lan Wangji at the guqin table. “I’m still sorry for it.”

He said nothing else, and after a moment Lan Wangji began to play again. This time he played another song, one he’d made when Sizhui had been young and hadn’t wanted to go to sleep.

It was a long while before Sizhui spoke. “Hanguang Jun, there is one thing I don’t understand. Can I ask you another question?”

“Mn.”

“Why did you oppose him so strongly?”

Still playing, Lan Wangji let himself put his words together in his head before he spoke. “For a while, I wasn’t sure he was the same as he’d always been. I thought the power he used had changed him. Or would.”

“So you fought against him.”

“At first.” Lan Wangji nodded. “But not at the end. I realized the core of him had not changed, even though his methods were dangerous.” To others, and to Wei Ying himself.

Sizhui studied him. “But not evil.”

Lan Wangji’s fingers stopped playing, and he sat still, watching the strings continue to vibrate for a long moment.

“What is evil?”

Instantly, he wished he could take the words back. He lifted his head, his lips forming an apology, but Sizhui was already speaking.

“I guess there isn’t a simple answer to that, is there?” Drawing his legs up beneath him in a pose he only used when it was the two of them alone, Sizhui settled himself more comfortably. “You could look at someone’s actions, or the effects of their actions, but I don’t think that would give you an answer either. I mean, good people must do bad things sometimes, or the other way around.”

He wasn’t watching Lan Wangji, so he missed the startled shock on his face as he continued. “Like Jingyi. Last week he was playing around and tripped one of the older disciples. He broke his arm, so he can’t go night hunting for a few months and he’s going to be behind the rest of his class, and he can’t write so Grandmaster has him standing up and answering all his exam questions out loud, in front of everybody, and he’s doing really, really badly at it. But then there was that disciple who was expelled last month because he stole someone else’s food from home, and then he lied and tried to make it look like a maid took it. Jingyi maybe caused more lasting harm, but didn’t get expelled. He just got yelled at a lot, and has to run around helping the older disciple all day.”

Shrugging easily, Sizhui’s eyes were still on the night sky outside the open door as he continued. “I think evil would probably have to come from people’s intentions, and those are really hard to see. Until you know someone really well, anyway.” He turned his head to look up at Lan Wangji, and smiled. “I trust you. If you trusted him, then I will too, for now, until I see a good reason to change my mind. Does that work?”

“Mn. I think it works very well.” Lips curving, Lan Wangji reached out to adjust Sizhui’s perfectly straight forehead ribbon. “I think that’s enough questions now. It’s close to nine. Go, get ready for bed.”

Instantly, Sizhui’s too adult expression changed into something a great deal younger. “But I have more questions. Can’t I stay up?”

“More questions. Really?”

Sizhui giggled, a sound that had become rare enough as he grew older that it tugged at Lan Wangji’s heart every time he heard it. “No. But I can come up with some.”

“Go to sleep, Sizhui. I’ll see you in the morning.”

After Sizhui was gone, Lan Wangji stood in the open doorway of his home. He watched his mother’s purple gentian dance in the soft, warm breeze, and thought of Wei Ying.

A monster with a black soul? No. He didn’t believe that.

He’d had too long to remember every moment they’d known each other. He’d traced through all the times Wei Ying had thrown himself into danger for his sister, his brother, for random cultivators on the battlefields whose names he’d never even known. For Wen Ning. For A-Yuan.

The times he’d risked himself for Lan Wangji.

When Wei Ying had come back so changed after the burning of Lotus Pier and the endless months he’d been missing, Lan Wangji had felt torn apart, uncertain of everything. Wei Ying had started down a path that had left him alone against the rest of the world, and the rules Lan Wangji had governed his life by told him he had to stand on the side of the world.

He’d fractured himself apart with his own uncertainty, and by the time he’d put himself back together it had been too late. Wei Ying had been dead. If there was any way Lan Wangji could go back and tell his younger self to dive in, to stand firmly beside Wei Ying the way he’d so desperately wanted to back then, he’d go in an instant.

He knew that if he ever had the chance again, in another life, he’d throw every fragment of his soul in beside Wei Ying’s.

There was no more uncertainty left. He’d go against the universe itself if he had to.

Turning his face up to the sky, Lan Wangji took in a deep breath, and for the moment, since he was alone, let himself feel the depths of the sorrow and longing that lived inside his soul, always.

Present.

There were tears on Lan Wangji’s face when he woke. Blinking into the darkness of his room, he heard again the rustling that must have woken him an instant before Wei Ying’s freezing body dove under the blankets and burrowed in beside him.

The nose pressing into the crook of his neck was as cold as ice. Lan Wangji stroked his hands down Wei Ying’s back, feeling the cold radiating off of him. “How did it go?”

“Freezing.” Wei Ying nestled in closer to Lan Wangji. “But the juniors did well.”

“Was it a ghost?”

“Uh huh.” Yawning, Wei Ying’s body started to relax against Lan Wangji’s. “You’ve got a good batch there. The ghost turned out to be the late wife of the man who asked us for help. She was haunting him because he’d opened up her grave to steal her jewelry, to give it to the woman he’s been trying to talk into marrying him. I was happy to leave him to her, once we figured out what was happing. Jingyi was too.” Wei Ying snorted, and then paused, considering. “Actually, maybe I’ve corrupted the rest of them too because I think they mostly all felt the same way. I sort of wished Jin Ling or Ouyang Zizhen were they, they’d probably have run the guy through before Sizhui talked us all out of it.”

He sighed, and pressed his face against the heat of Lan Wangji’s chest. “He pointed out the poor dead wife didn’t deserve to be stuck to the man for the rest of her existence, so we returned all her jewelry and helped her rest. I did enjoy putting the fear of me into the husband, though. He’ll leave her things alone now. And I suppose Sizhui had a point about it being the right thing to do.”

His hair tickled Lan Wangji’s nose as he shook his head. “Honestly, that boy almost always is right. It makes me mad at you, sometimes. How’d you get to raise such a smart kid?”

“He was smart when I got him.”

Wei Ying raised his head, and moonlight sparkled in his eyes as he grinned at Lan Wangji. The grin vanished in an instant the moment he saw Lan Wangji’s face.

“You were crying? What’s wrong?” Panicked, he pushed himself up until he could sweep his hands over Lan Wangji’s cheeks.

“It’s alright. Just a memory.”

“A bad one?”

“No, not really.” Not anymore.

Wei Ying waited, and when Lan Wangji said nothing more, rolled his eyes. “Lan Zhan. Are you going to tell me about it, or not?”

Lan Wangji’s lips curved. “Not.”

Wei Ying huffed out a breath, but there was relief on his face as he saw Lan Wangji truly did not look unhappy. And then he blinked, and grinned as mischief grew in his eyes. He lifted one leg to drape it teasingly over Lan Wangji’s hips. “Maybe I can convince you to talk?”

In one quick move, Lan Wangji flipped their bodies, until he was looking down at Wei Ying beneath him.

“Fine, fine. Keep your secrets.” Laughing up at him, Wei Ying lifted his fingers to trace them over Lan Wangji’s face.

Lan Wangji pressed his cheek into the palm of Wei Ying’s hand, and felt a happy warmth grow in his chest, dispelling the very last echoes of remembered sadness. He smiled down at Wei Ying.

And decided that the color of Wei Ying’s eyes, as he laughed up at him in the dark, truly were his favorite shade of black.

#the untamed #mdzs #wangxian #mdzs fanfiction #elliemoran #my fanfiction #angst and fluff with a happy ending #i think this may be the first canon compliant fic i've ever written?#it feels like a v different experience

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