#I thought that might be something that would like. be provided. perhaps by Mash. or in the rare case perhaps Da Vinci

[revddan]

Wildernesses, we all need them from time to time

Lent began last Wednesday (Ash Wednesday). Ash Wednesday was a day in which many of us rubbed ash onto our foreheads, accompanied by the words "from dust you came and to dust you will return", as a tangible reminder of our need for God. Lent is a 40-day season of preparation in the lead-up to Good Friday and Resurrection Sunday (Easter Day). Lent is a season often marked by repentance, fasting, self-reflection, and prayer, and not in a self-punishing way, but in a pruning way, a way that ultimately "greens the soul" and creates space for the newness God to enter our lives and church. Throughout Christian history, many Christian sages and teachers have likened the season of Lent to a wilderness experience.

This week's gospel reading (Mark 1:9-15) touches on Jesus' baptism and the start of his ministry, and it also speaks of Jesus' wilderness experience (albeit very briefly). What might the notion of wilderness hold for us? Wilderness experiences are something humans have in common; we all have them, and they come to in a variety of of forms:

Shattered dreams. Personal tragedy. Feeling adrift when our inherited conceptions and understandings of God don't match our experience and the foundation which we thought was firm begins to crumble.

Life's wilderness experiences are sometimes self-imposed; our decisions distract from God's goodness and life, leaving us feeling lost, alone, and afraid. Sometimes, our wilderness experiences befall us for no logical reason; life is full of heartbreak and often not of our own making. Occasionally, our wilderness experiences occur because we live in ways that reflect the way of Jesus and God's reign of justice and peace; following Jesus can (should) get us into trouble. Sparks fly when God's reign of justice, love, and peace, embodied by God's people, bangs up against the death-dealing logic of the world. And that's hard but good. And sometimes, perhaps like in our Gospel reading this morning, God invites (or drives) us out into the wilderness because it's what we need; a time in the desert will be good for us.

Wildernesses, whatever they may be for us, are places fraught with difficulty, but they can also be places of goodness and growth. Wilderness places are difficult to pin down; they places filled with beauty and peril (our reading speaks of testing, wild beasts, and angels, all mashed together, co-existing); and wildernesses are places that, if we are open, have the potential to form and shape us in profound ways because, at least from a biblical perspective, wilderness places are where God is present: pillars of smoke by day and fire by night guiding a wandering people through the desert, where the Holy Spirit is at work (think of the wild goose Holy Spirit of the Celts chasing Jesus into the desert, not gentle dove Holy Spirit of his baptism), and wilderness places are places where God can be encountered (burning bushes and holy ground). As many of you know, me & Mai's time in Kolkata was a wilderness experience full of heartbreak, hope, and beauty. Moments when God felt close and moments when we felt abandoned by God; a season that has left its scars, but a season that has profoundly shaped us and formed us in who we are, how we relate to God, and how we see the world around us. That wilderness experience was an invitation; the Spirit (we think) pushed us out into that place and into that community. Was it what we expected? No. Was it hard? Yes. Would we change a thing? No (as much as I would like to some days).

We need wildernesses, and I think God is inviting us into them more often than we might think (or want). Wildernesses provide an opportunity to break from the status quo, disengage from the noise, and come face to face with God and ourselves, which can be frightening. Sometimes, I wonder if the wild beasts in our reading this morning aren't physical but the wild beasts that live within us: self-doubt, anxiety, loneliness, confusion, etc.

I love what Joyce Hugget says, "Since God's very own Son was transformed so radically by the desert, since it was in the actual or symbolic wilderness that his life-motto crystallised; his life-goals clarified, he was envisioned and empowered; since, in solitude, he received God's perspective on his ministry and was re-energised by love, perhaps we should not be surprised when our own pilgrimage takes us into desert-like places? Instead, of feeling guilty or afraid to admit that we are wandering around in the trackless wastes of the spiritual wilderness, perhaps, like Jesus, we should accept, with humility and versatility, the worst and the best the wilderness offers? Perhaps such an attitude would enable us to look back on our desert experiences with awe and gratitude? Perhaps it would better enable us to learn the desert's lessons with eagerness?" (Formed by the Desert, Joyce Huggett, pg 25)

Do you need a wilderness? Is the Holy Spirit (the wild goose one again) beckoning (driving) you into a wilderness? Are you ready to go, or will you resist with all your might? This Lent, as we make our way to the cross and on to resurrection and beyond, may you/we have the courage to enter the wilderness, whatever that may be, and in and through times alone, time in Scripture and prayer, may the God of love and life meet you in new, transforming, and liberating ways.

Peace, Revd D.

-------

Image: Time Wade

[woodworkingpastor]

Catching Joy -- Matthew 1:18-25 -- Third Sunday of Advent -- December 11, 2022

Today’s worship theme contains the most unlikely combination of emphases we’ll encounter this Advent season—each of them significant on their own, but a combination that is interesting (in the best possible way!).

Earlier, Trenton and Kristin lit the candle for the third Sunday of Advent, which calls us to consider the joy we have in our faith. This is the primary theme of our worship today, as I have given the sermon the title, “Catching Joy.”

There is the Chrismon symbol of the fish with the letters ICQUS. This is the Greek word for “fish,” which early Christians turned into an acronym meaning Jesus Christ, Son of God, Savior. The fish is a convenient symbol because of the Gospel account of the calling of the disciples to be fishers of people. There are a number of similar images on the tree today; as before I encourage you to come find them. You might also check the car in front of you the next time you are at a stoplight; the fish symbol is still out there!

Our Gospel reading reminds us of Jesus’ birth announcement to Joseph, someone who might be a bit overlooked in our nativity and Christmas celebrations, but who was instrumental to the process of Jesus coming into the world!

Perhaps we would do well to consider these pieces as ingredients for a recipe: when we mix them together, how will we end up with joy? Where is the joy in this passage?

Searching for Joy

Maybe a reminder of how the Gospel writers approached their portrayals of Jesus will be helpful in our search for joy. Christmas pageants and live nativities typically present a mash-up of the Gospel accounts of Jesus’ birth. But when we look at them one at a time, we might remember that:

Luke offers what I would call a “biblical” account of Jesus’ birth; it is biblical in the sense that Luke takes care to connect the dots from the events of Jesus’ birth to both the promises and prophetic challenges in the Old Testament, reminding us that God’s intent is to put the world to rights.

John provides more of a “theological” explanation of Jesus’ birth. John seems to be writing to the Roman world around him, and the connections he wants to make are to those steeped in Greek and Roman philosophy and culture. In John we learn that the divine Logos takes on human flesh. “The Word became flesh and lived among us.”

Matthew offers a “biological” and “genealogical” understanding of Jesus’ birth. Like Luke, Matthew wants his audience to know how God’s work in Jesus is connected to what God had done in the past. To do that, Matthew makes clear that God has chosen to work through human processes—genealogies and childbirth are how Matthew roots his Gospel.

It is a significant source of joy that the story of God has always included people. You might say, “Well, of course it would! Who else—or what else—would God be interested in?” That’s not my point. My point is that we are not an afterthought in God’s story. We are the main characters. It’s not as if we auditioned before God for some kind of part in the play, didn’t make the cut, and then was told, “Well, we could always use another person in the chorus.” Or when we see the closing credits of life’s movie on the big screen in the kingdom of God, I don’t think any of us will find ourselves listed as “Woman #4” or “Bellhop.” We will be named for our role in the story!

God’s story has always included people. If we were to back up a bit in Matthew’s Gospel and read every worship leader’s favorite passage—the genealogy—we would find that Jesus’ genealogy is filled with faithful people and unfaithful people. There were some who were given great opportunity and managed to underwhelm. There were others who most everyone thought weren’t worthy of being included in God’s story, but there they are, all the same.

By including people, God entered the world through a biological process. How that process came about sounds unusual as we read about it here. But God has already established that nothing is required to make something. Jesus would be born through a human process. Mary’s pregnancy would include all the discomfort and pain and promise and delight that comes with pregnancy. Jesus would be born through a human process that would disrupt human processes. People were going to talk. Joseph and Mary would both be victims of conversations that quickly changed when they walked into the room. Can you imagine the small-town gossip this would create? Is there any wonder that “Mary set out and went with haste to a Judean town in the hill country…” to stay with her cousin, Elizabeth?

Working through human processes to include people in the plan of salvation meant that Jesus was adopting the vulnerability of humanity. At the most vulnerable points of his life, Jesus was cared for by others: at his birth and death, Jesus was cared for by his family and friends. In his temptation in the wilderness and in his testing in the Garden of Gethsemane, Jesus was cared for by angels. It is a remarkable thing, really. Scripture affirms that every blade of grass and mountain vista and star and planet and quark and photon was created through Jesus and for Jesus. And yet someone had to change Jesus’ diaper. Someone had to take his body down from the cross and wrap it in grave clothes.

Early Christian theologians wrestled long and hard with what all this meant. What did it mean for God to become a human being? How could eternity inhabit a body? How could divinity and humanity exist? The church’s best conclusion has simply been to affirm this truth and embrace the mystery that Jesus could not bring salvation to any part of humanity that he did not inhabit or experience. The divinity given by the Holy Spirit and the humanity provided by his mother would exist in the one man, thus making the salvation of humanity possible.

The joy of grace

If God was going to be with God’s people, then the story must be a story of grace. From the very first pages of Scripture, it has been apparent that if you’re going to deal with people, then you must account for sin.

This is Joseph’s dilemma. When we enter the text at verse 18, Matthew is catching us up with things that have already happened. The arrangements for Joseph and Mary’s marriage have already been made; likely the only thing left to do is for Joseph to finish building an addition to his house or finishing an apprenticeship program. Mary’s pregnancy has become known, and Joseph hasn’t believed her story. He has chosen “to dismiss Mary quietly.”

This is itself a sign of grace, although we might have trouble seeing it. The Old Testament law considered adultery such a significant act of evil that it was a capital crime. That is a very hard line on sin, to be sure; a hard line chosen because of the potential damage an extra-marital affair would have on a small, rural community with many deep family connections. This is something that is not too difficult to imagine in our own times.

But Joseph is not concerned with following the letter of the law. I believe Joseph sensed grace. In his mind, there needed to be consequences, but he seems to have had no desire for Mary to be publicly humiliated.

He sensed grace. His dream showed him the full measure of what grace would entail. And in showing grace to Mary, Joseph would come to understand the costliness of grace. Every time Joseph looked at Mary’s expanding abdomen, he would likely have to remind himself, “I believe you, Mary. This child is from God.” God demonstrated great grace to Joseph in helping him see this next step; and when it was pointed out to him, Joseph took it.

It makes me wonder if part of the reason God chose Mary was because Joseph was in her life. I do not say this to take anything away from Mary. Her bravery in saying yes to Gabriel’s invitation demonstrates a courage beyond all description. Her prophetic understanding of just how Jesus would work in the world, seeking justice and fairness for the lowly and the hungry reveals a magnificent depth of spiritual understanding.

With Joseph, we see someone who seeks grace; someone who was willing to follow up that offering of grace with the costliness of their personal investment. It was Joseph who would take a very pregnant Mary with him to Bethlehem; it was Joseph who would take them to Egypt to preserve Jesus’ life from a tyrant king; it was Joseph who would return to Nazareth and raise Jesus according to the traditions of their faith.

Both Joseph and Mary teach us how to live our lives with a sensitivity to what God wants to accomplish through us, and it is to us that Jesus Christ, Son of God, Savior, is born:

For the child conceived in her is from the Holy Spirit. She will bear a son, and you are to name him Jesus, for he will save his people from their sins.

“They shall name him Emmanuel” which means, “God is with us.”

This is joy: that God did not leave us as we are, but made a way for us to be brought back into the family, to be made new, and to play a part in the coming Kingdom of God.  With joy we sing of Jesus, “You are making all things new.”

[giftly-blog]

Thanksgiving Gift Ideas 2022

A holiday that’s all about getting together with family and friends, eating tasty food, and being grateful for the good things in life? Sounds like a great time all around.

Thanksgiving isn’t a holiday we typically associate with presents but there are actually many reasons why you might want or need to give a Thanksgiving gift. For example, a thank-you gift for your host can be a nice gesture, or if you have loved ones traveling for the holidays, it can help to pitch in for travel costs – whether that’s for gas, flights, or hotels. 

Additionally, sending a Thanksgiving gift to someone who can't be there in person is also a thoughtful way to demonstrate holiday spirit.

Whether you want to contribute to the festivities, thank your host for cooking up a delicious spread, or send something special to a family member who can’t make it this year, we’ve got you covered. 

Here are some of our favorite Thanksgiving gift ideas for 2022. 

Thanksgiving Host Presents 

Getting ready for Thanksgiving can be a laborious task for whoever is hosting, especially if you have a large group in attendance. Perhaps you have a family member who offered to host Thanksgiving dinner this year and you want to help out. 

You can contribute to the special day with food from a grocery store, whether it’s a local store by your host’s house or a national chain.  Maybe you’re really into turkey, mashed potatoes, or stuffing and want to help provide some of the main dishes. You could give the gift of the whole Butterball Turkey from Ralphs or mashed potatoes and gravy from Whole Foods. Or if you’re traveling or don’t want to lug around a frozen turkey, you can send a Ralphs Giftly or Whole Foods Giftly ahead of time.

Give Thanks Bundt Cake - Nothing Bundt Cakes

If you want to contribute a dessert but already know that a pumpkin pie is sure to be present, why not pick up a Give Thanks Bundt Cake from Nothing Bundt Cakes? I mean, just think about how cute this turkey bundt cake would be at the center of the table. 

Additionally, sending your host a Nothing Bundt Cakes Giftly is a great option if they want to pick out the flavor of the cake or icing. 

Alma Highball and Double Old-Fashioned Glasses - Crate & Barrel

Maybe you want to give a gift that your host can use for many years to come. Dishware, drinkware, or silverware is a great present. If your host likes collecting different types of glasses, the Alma Highball and Double Old-Fashioned Glasses from Crate & Barrel could be a fun and colorful addition to their collection. Or you can give them an Alma Giftly and leave the choice up to them.  

Bee & Willow Weston Dinnerware Set - Bed Bath & Beyond

The Bee & Willow Weston 16-Piece Dinnerware Set in Taupe from Bed Bath & Beyond is a nice Fall set that your host can enjoy using at Thanksgiving dinner as well as throughout the year. Plus, nothing quite says “thank you for hosting Thanksgiving” like a classy dinnerware set. A Bee & Willow Giftly is a great choice for these dishes or others. 

Holiday Cookbooks - Barnes & Noble

If you know your host has already got everything covered in terms of food and dishware, a cookbook could be a great gift option. Barnes & Noble offers a wide variety of some of the best holiday cookbooks. If your host wants to try out a new cranberry sauce recipe this year or make a green bean casserole for the first time, a Giftly for cookbooks is the way to go.

Food Storage Set - The Container Store 

Everyone knows that one of the best parts of Thanksgiving is having yummy leftovers for a week. But what if your host doesn’t have the best strategy for saving or storing the food? This 8-Piece Smart Seal Rectangular Glass Food Storage Set is a practical and thoughtful gift. In fact, you really can’t go wrong with any of the kitchen products from The Container Store – so send a food storage Giftly!

Travel Presents

There’s nothing like being with family and friends for the holidays. However, unless everyone lives nearby, it can be expensive to get everyone to the same place. If you’re looking for the perfect present for someone who lives far away and wants to come home for the holidays, it can be generous to help cover their transit costs. Whether they’re booking a flight, renting a car, or staying at a hotel, an Expedia Giftly is a great way to bring everyone together. Additionally, if they are buying tickets for a specific airline, consider sending a Giftly for Jet Blue, American Airlines, or Spirit Airlines.  

Now maybe you want to give your host the ability to pick out exactly what they need to throw a successful party. A Thanksgiving Giftly – which can be used like a universal Thanksgiving gift card – works for anything your recipient wants. They can use the funds for turkey, mashed potatoes, pumpkin pie, wine, coffee, snacks, or anything else for Thanksgiving dinner. Not only can you help out with the special holiday, but you can show them how much you appreciate them. 

Friendsgiving Presents 

If you’re having a Friendsgiving party with some friends, roommates, siblings, or coworkers, bringing Thanksgiving gifts can be a fun way to surprise them and add to the festivities. 

Pumpkin Spice Latte - Starbucks 

Now, it wouldn’t officially be the holiday season without the famous Pumpkin Spice Latte (PSL) from Starbucks. Whether your friends prefer iced or hot versions of the drink that embodies Fall itself, a PSL Giftly is a surefire crowd-pleaser. 

Capri Blue Volcano Candle - Anthropologie 

Anthropologie is famous for its trendy, good quality clothes as well as its incredible candles. The festive Capri Blue Volcano Candle in the Gold Jar is no exception. If you’re on the fence, just go for it. Send the Capri Blue Volcano Candle Giftly today! This sparkly take on the classic scent is sure to bring a smile to the face of any friend who enjoys shopping at Anthropologie.

Lotions and Body Spray - Bath & Body Works

Another good way to help your friends and loved ones set the holiday vibe in their homes is by giving them a gift from Bath & Body Works. They can pick out their favorite body sprays, lotions, candles, shampoos, hand sanitizers, or perfumes. Since you can bundle many of the various scents in gift packages, a Bath and Body Works Giftly is a great way to give the gift of holiday fragrances and help your friends stock up on all their favorites. 

On the other hand, perhaps you want to give your Friendsgiving pals the freedom to get new clothes, shoes, books, or home decor items for the holidays. A Thanksgiving Giftly – which can be used in place of a universal Thanksgiving gift card – is a great present since it’s for a specific occasion, but gives your recipient the ability to buy anything that makes them happy. 

Start Sending Thanksgiving Presents Today

Whether you’re staying home or traveling for the holidays, a Thanksgiving present from Giftly is sure to be a great new holiday tradition. Start sending presents today! 

[rheawritessometimes]

{ Childe x GN!Reader }

{ Summary } Childe gets an owie while sparing. Series Masterlist

{ Warnings } Violence, Swearing, Angry Reader, Injury, Physical Intimacy (Kissing).

{ Notes } Hurting Childe just a little because he refused to come home for me. Lost the 50/50. Reader is a sword user. Reader is suggested to be the Traveler. Self-indulgent again because all my writing is. This one is a real trainwreck but I didn't want to go too long without posting. Something better than nothing? Masterlist

{ Word Count } 2,404

Meeting Childe at the Golden House every week had been your routine for a while now. Right after you had defeated him the first time, he immediately begged you to train with him and you gave in, unable to bear those puppy-dog eyes. And the entire week he spent pestering you about it.

The whole fiasco with Osial had been put behind the both of you. It was probably true that you were too quick to forgive Childe, but he was just so charming. Not to mention he often paid for your meals, suggesting going out to eat after your sessions or if he saw you around the harbor. On a few occasions, you had been out eating with friends or on your own and found he had picked up your tab.

Since Liyue hadn't been destroyed and you got free food out of it, you really weren't all too upset about the situation. The Snezhnayan was actually pretty easy to get along with when Fatui matters weren't involved. He made you laugh too, so you supposed you could tolerate the once-weekly sparing sessions with him.

Childe called it sparing, but normal people didn't spar with actual weapons and fight like they were going to kill their partner. At first, you had tried to convince him it would be much better and safer for the both of you to use practice weapons instead of sharpened blades and arrows. He was quick to decline, saying something about both of you being competent enough not to get seriously hurt. You thought about refuting that on the basis that he had yet to beat you even once.

Even so, every week you found yourself pushing through the doors to the chamber Childe was always patiently waiting in. You'd never gotten there before him and wondered if he intentionally came early. You wouldn't be surprised if that was the case, he probably paced the room plotting his seemingly unobtainable victory.

The hydro vision paired with his combat experience and skill made him a difficult opponent, but he didn't seem terribly good at strategy. He might have been careless because it wasn't a real fight, but somehow you doubted that. He seemed the type to always give it his all. It could be that was his problem, since his loss usually came due to his exhaustion. Maybe if he didn't spend so much energy trying to show off he'd actually be a proper challenge.

"You're finally here," Childe proclaimed dramatically, voice echoing off the walls, "I thought you might have gotten lost on the way or something. Was starting to worry I'd need to go out and rescue you."

"I'm fifteen minutes early, Childe. How long have you been waiting?" you asked dryly, raising your eyebrow questioningly. You took a moment to shrug your adventuring pack off your shoulders and drop it near the door. You rolled your shoulders, relieved to be free of the weight.

"Ahah, anyways, we should get started. I have some business to attend to today," he responded, indiscreetly ignoring your question. It shouldn't have been very surprising that he didn't wait for your response before sending an arrow flying in your direction, but he'd always waited for you to signal you were ready before starting in the past.

Materializing your sword out of habit more than anything else, you raised it to block the arrow with the flat of the blade. The arrow bounced off the metal with a weak dink, clattering to the ground. If you'd reacted a moment later it would have pierced you.

You shot Childe a dirty look, irate from the cheap shot. He responded by grinning wider and taking aim again. You silently promised that he would face your wrath shortly.

Advancing towards him, you swatted the arrow flying your way with your sword. A bow would be less effective at close range, so you intended to close the distance. The redhead laughed, a hint of nervousness creeping into the sound at the pace of your advance. Or perhaps it was the building rage in your eyes.

The bow dematerialized, now Childe held dual hydro-blades in his hands in anticipation of close combat. Once in range, he immediately swiped at you with a blade. You stepped back out of the way, quickly bringing up your sword to parry the next slash coming from the opposite blade.

Childe seemed encouraged by you backing away, a smug look crossing his face. You furrowed your brows, he was so unthoughtful. He insists on using real weapons, shoots at you before you're ready, and now he has the audacity to get cocky.

You raise your blade to swing down at him and he catches your sword on crossed hydro-blades. He lets out a little huff of air, not expecting you to strike with such force, but his arms hold steady. You swiftly draw your blade back to slash at him again. Thorough training has you swiping at him with practiced ease while Childe is forced to switch to the defensive.

It gives you a sort of satisfaction to see his expression change to one of worry, it was your first time seeing such a look on him. You had no intention of actually hurting him, but it was nice to scare him a little. Maybe after this, he'd take the dangers of sparing with actual weapons a little more seriously. But probably not.

You're hardly thinking when his hydro-blades finally fail to parry your blows, the flat of your blade slamming into the side of his chest resulting in a soft crack barely loud enough to reach your ears. A look of surprise crosses your face when he lets out a pained grunt, what had happened finally being processed in your mind.

Immediately you drop your sword, ignoring it as it clatters to the ground before dematerializing. You were internally relieved to see his hydro-blades dissipate too, it would have been terribly unsportsmanly of him to stab you now. Stepping forward on instinct, you pause as you realize you're not exactly sure what to do.

Childe clutches his chest as he coughs a few times and a flood of panic washes over you. If you broke his ribs, his lungs could have been punctured. That would be bad.

"Fuck, that hurts," he huffed out before he attempted to gingerly sit down, right in the middle of the Golden House. Childe winced at the movement, but he managed to settle, leaning on his arms for support. His breathing was heavy from the strain of sparing and you felt extremely guilty, broken ribs had a tendency to hurt terribly and pain would flare up with every breath. At least he seemed to be breathing okay, so his lungs were probably intact.

"Let me get something to ease the pain," you said hastily, jogging towards the door to grab your bag. Your first thought was to numb him up before bringing him to Bubu Pharmacy to get some proper help.

"Aw, are you actually worried about me?" he cooed teasingly, maintaining that signature annoying grin despite the pain that followed him speaking. It was easy to ignore him as you rummaged through your bag for something useful.

It crossed your mind that it would be exceedingly difficult to get him all the way back to Liyue if you gave him anything strong. That limited your options rather greatly, adding that on to your lacking medical knowledge and limited variety of resources left you with fewer options than you would have liked. He probably could make it back without any anesthetic but it would be slow and you'd feel terrible for it.

Even with your lack of selection, you were thankful to have some knowledge and materials for this sort of thing, adventuring made you better at improvising and you learned a lot along the way. Taking everything into consideration, you decided it would be best to go with something topical. You could make a salve to numb up the area and then hopefully drag him to Bubu Pharmacy.

"I'm really sorry, Childe," you apologized, "I didn't mean to hurt you."

"Oh don't worry about it, this isn't the first time I've broken my ribs. Probably won't be the last, either," he replied with a laugh, which caused him to wince. You only frowned at him as you pulled out some plants to grind up. A rock would have worked, but you kept a mortar and pestle for this kind of thing after realizing you'd be doing it often.

You were soon mashing some leaves and a few petals into a paste, with some water Childe so graciously provided. Having a hydro user around was rather convenient when practicing field medicine.

"Whatcha makin'?" Childe asks after a short period of silence, leaning over to get a closer look. You wonder if he's actually curious or if he just can't tolerate the quiet. It seemed the two of you were always talking when you were together, save for when your sparing got too intense to spare the breath.

"A salve to numb you up so I can drag you to Bubu Pharmacy," you responded, still mostly focused on getting the paste to the right consistency.

"What? No, I can't go. I've got work to do," he argued, moving to stand up now.

You were quick to grab his wrist to prevent him from getting up, furrowing your brows. Childe paused, waiting for your explanation.

"You have at least one broken rib, whatever you need to do can wait," you told him sternly, maintaining eye contact. He turned his gaze away from you to hum in contemplation. He knew well enough that giving injuries time to heal was important, but so was his job.

"Fine, I guess what I was supposed to do today isn't that important," he relented, leaning back into a comfortable position once more. Childe had a feeling that if he had insisted on working you'd have found a way to stop him anyway.

"Can you take off your shirt?" you asked, trying to sound as casual and not awkward as possible once you were satisfied with the consistency of the paste. You would have offered to allow him to apply it himself but you figured it would be less painful this way, plus you'd need to bandage his chest afterward, so it didn't make much of a difference.

"Oh my, you're not usually this bold," he teased, reaching to begin undoing the clasps holding his jacket together. His remark made you decide against offering your assistance despite the awareness that even just wriggling out of the jacket probably hurt. It's okay to be a little petty sometimes. As a treat.

Once his torso was bare you shifted your position to be a bit closer and examined his side. There was already the beginning of bruising, but it would get much darker by tomorrow. You ignored the scars and other bruises that were present, very aware of the fact the redhead would tease you for staring if you looked any longer.

"I promise I'll be gentle," you assured, "But it'll probably hurt a little."

Childe just hummed, waving off your warning, so you gathered some of the salve on your fingers. You silently wished you'd had gloves that weren't absorbent with you so your hands wouldn't grow numb later.

It was a quick process of spreading the paste over his ribs, but his eyes remained on you the entire time. You couldn't be sure if he was just interested in what you were doing, but it surprised you that he remained entirely silent.

"It'll take a little while to numb up. I'm going to bandage your chest for support. This will hurt more," you informed him, dragging your pack towards you to dig out a roll of bandages.

"Don't worry, I'm a tough boy," he laughed in response, and you could only smile and shake your head at him. You had faith in his strength, but that didn't stop the guilt you felt over being responsible for his pain. It did make you feel better when he started reminiscing on past injuries he'd sustained in battle once you began bandaging him. How he could look back on them so fondly was a mystery to you.

At first, you were mindful to touch him as little as possible while you were wrapping the bandages. They needed to be a little tight to provide support but you tried to ensure they put as little pressure on his ribs as possible. Unfortunately, your fingers started to grow numb and you hadn't realized you'd been bandaging too tightly until Childe let out a soft grunt of pain.

"Fuck, sorry," you apologized, quickly unraveling the last section of bandaging to rewrap it more loosely.

"Don't worry about it," he said, thinking for a moment before adding, "But, if you want to make it up to me, a kiss would make me feel better."

Pausing in your ministrations, you looked up to see a cheeky grin on his face. You raised a brow, giving him an entirely unimpressed expression. It wasn't entirely uncommon for him to flirt like this, trying to get a reaction out of you. But as you reached one hand up to gently grab his chin, it was his turn to become flustered.

Leaning up, you pressed a chaste kiss to his cheek before moving away and releasing your hold on him. You patted his cheek twice, giving him an amused grin.

"You're welcome."

"Hey! That doesn't count!" Childe immediately whined, pouting at you. You could only laugh at his playful antics as you finally finished wrapping his chest.

"You're cruel, you know that?" the Snezhnayan grumbled, eyebrows still furrowed as he continued to pout. He really did seem like a spoiled kid at this moment and you laughed again, causing his frown to deepen.

You knew his demeanor was all theatrical, but as you stared at his expression you found yourself leaning towards him again. You gently pressed your lips to his, smiling into the kiss when his hands eagerly flew up to your face. You indulged in the kiss for a few moments, smirking when he followed you as you pulled away. Putting a hand on his shoulder, you halted his attempt to continue.

"You can have another kiss once you get checked out at Bubu Pharmacy."

-

If you read all that, I'm sorry lol. I wanted to spend more time on it but I don't want to take too long posting things. Anyways, if you have any better ideas for what I should write send them in. Please.

There's a part two now: Part 2

#.rhea writes #.r let's make a deal #genshin impact #genshin #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #childe x reader #genshin childe #childe #tartaglia #tartaglia x reader #genshin tartaglia #tartagalicious #taking my anger out on childe #but also simping for childe #fluff #is this fluff?

[happyandticklish]

Lazy Mornings and Stray Fingers

Notes: For the request by @shadowandthegang. It ended up being more implied Nerrison, but I I hope you still enjoy it! Sorry for it being so ungodly late. 

Summary: When Harrison sleeps in and Nerris is forced to deal with it, she discovers an interesting method to waking him up. 

Nerris sighed, grumbling a bit as she trudged across the grounds towards the tents. It really wasn’t fair that she had been sent on this particular mission. It would make far more sense for one of the boys to do it—or someone who wasn’t busy. Her and Ered had been engaged in a crucial moment in their campaign when David interrupted them. Besides, it was hardly her fault if Harrison was still asleep hours past when their breakfast would normally occur.

Still. Something could have happened. So she went anyway despite her complaining in the moment, hoping that he had just slept in as opposed to being taken away by some wild creature in the night.

She knocked on the pole outside his tent, feeling a tad awkward about coming inside unannounced. “Harrison? Are you in there?”

There was no reply. Most likely, he was still asleep. She knocked again, just in case he hadn’t heard her, but when again there was only silence on the other end, she resigned herself to the reality that she would have to get him herself.

“I’m coming in!” she warned quickly, before determinedly pushing aside the tent flaps and preparing herself for the worst.

As it turned out, he was asleep. He was half-curled up atop his sleeping bag, his hair mashed against the pillow as a single line of drool collected below his open mouth. He was snoring lightly, and he grunted a bit at her entrance. Still, he didn’t wake up, merely tugging his legs into a tighter ball.

It felt strange seeing him like this, and guilt and nerves almost made Nerris rush back out of the tent and have someone else come wake him. But that would have meant she’d have wasted the entire journey up here, and she didn’t want to face the teasing of the others when she admitted she couldn’t do it.

“Harrison,” she whispered, nudging his side a bit with her foot. “You’re gonna miss the morning activities! C’mon, just wake up already!”

Nothing. She sighed, rubbing the back of her neck. Feeling a bit awkward as she did so, she knelt down besides him, hesitantly grabbing his arm and shaking it lightly. “Hey, dork! Look, the others are gonna start worrying about you if we don’t get back soon.”

For a moment she thought she might have got through to him, but he simply mumbled something incoherent and swatted a hand lazily back at her. She jerked back, narrowing her eyes in annoyance.

“Listen to me, will you?” She poked him in the side a couple times, perhaps just a bit harder than was needed. “How deep of a sleeper are you anyway—?”

She broke off when Harrison flinched, his lips quirking into a brief smile. She paused, and then, experimentally, she poked him again with far more deliberation than before. There was that same twitch, and this time a slight chuckle, half-hearted and sleepy.

Oh.

Oh.

Suddenly, Nerris had the perfect idea for how to get him up, one that would provide her with entertainment for her troubles. She smirked, wiggling her fingers a bit against the side exposed to her. That’s what you get for sleeping in, she thought smugly.

It took him a moment, the haze of sleep still clouding his thought process, but steadily enough he started to squirm once more, his arm coming down to protect himself. She merely moved around him, a gentle, spidering touch that prompted a weak giggle fit. His legs curled up to protect himself, and he mumbled out a vague protest.

“C’mon Harrison, all you have to do is wake up if you want it to stop,” Nerris teased, reaching her hand around to scratch at his stomach. He squeaked, jerking back into her lap slightly. His eyes finally fluttered open, and he blinked, still grinning from the tickles as he shot her a confused look.

“Neherris? W-Whahat are yohou—ahaHA, no!”

He snorted, curling up tighter when the tickling didn’t relent, but instead only increased in vigor. Using both hands now, Nerris tilted her chin in victory. “You wouldn’t wake up, so I had to resort to drastic measures. The poor, unfortunate Harrison has taken a critical hit after leaving himself defenseless, and now he must face the wrath of the relentless tickle monster!”

“Nahahahaha, ahaha, wahahahait!” Harrison attempted to shove her off, but he was weak after just waking up, and he couldn’t find the strength to fight back. So instead, he resorted to pulling his knees in tighter in the hopes of hiding as much skin as was possible. “Ihihit tihihihihickles, gahahaha, ahahaha lohohohohot!”

“Of course it does!” she scoffed, rolling her eyes. “The tickle monster shows no mercy towards its prey—now your only choice is to accept your fate!”

He let out a panicked yelp when she discovered that squeezing his knees was an excellent method to get him to uncurl from his position. No matter how he twisted or turned to defend himself, he only exposed more areas for her to exploit. “Ohohohokay, ohohohokay, Ihihi’m uhuhuhuhup! Ah! Nahahat thehehehere!”

Nerris could hardly help her fond smile as he scrunched up his shoulders, trying to block her fingers from discovering just how sensitive his neck was. Of course, if he really wanted to it would be all too easy to roll out of her grasp and run out of the tent, or enact a counterattack to make his escape. Instead, he just lied there and took it, protesting all the while, but doing very little in the long run to actually escape.

Nerris raised her eyebrows. Interesting.

“It appears that the victim doesn’t mind the tickle monster’s attack as much as he claims,” she said, shoving her hands under his arms and causing him to shriek, spasming wildly under her. “You haven’t let yourself be caught on purpose, have you?”

Harrison’s face bloomed a bright shade of red, and he hid his face in the pillow, giggling weakly. “Shuhuhuhuhut uhuhuhuhup!”

She gasped, grinning as her attack doubled. “I knew it! Well, lucky for you, the tickle monster is always willing to help a friend in need!”

“Quihihihihit cahahahahahalling yohohohourself thahahAHAHAT!”

Harrison’s voice pitched suddenly when she managed to secure one of his wrists, scribbling her nails under his now exposed armpit. His words were quickly lost to incoherent babbling as he tugged frantically at his trapped arm. “AHAHAHahahahahaihihihieehehe! NehEHEHERRIS!”

“Aha! Is this your weak spot? I better stay here then, since you love it so much.” Okay. Maybe she was having a bit too much fun with this. But could you really blame her when the oppurtunity to see Harrison’s cute smile was so tempting

The moment the thought occurred to her, Nerris’s fingers stalled, realization dawning. Cute? Since when was Harrison’s smile cute?

In her distraction, Harrison managed to free his arm at last and wrap it around himself. He was still giggling a bit, his hair sticking up from squirming around. “Aha, hah, Nerris? Why’d you stop?”

“Nothing!” she blurted quickly, and he frowned at her. “I mean, eh, there’s no reason! Just wanted to give you a break is all. Sorry about that, I shouldn’t have—I mean—we should probably get going. The others are gonna start wondering where we were.”

“Oh. Yeah.” Harrison’s blush deepened as the reality of what had just happened started to sink in. His skin still tingled slightly from the tickling, and he gripped his arms tighter around himself. “Good idea.”

Nerris stood up, a bit too quickly, whirling around and almost tripping out of his tent. The moment she was out of sight, she covered her face with both hands, cursing herself internally. What was that? Who just started tickling someone randomly? And why him? And why didn’t he stop her?

It was too much to think about right then, and so decided to simply head back, drawing her cape hood tight so no one could see her blushing face.

When they returned, no one questioned their absence, a small mercy. She avoided Harrison for the rest of the day after that, not wanting to have to deal with the inevitable awkwardness that would follow.

Next time, she decided, she would have someone else go.

#tickle fic #nerrison #camp camp #fic request #tickling #fanfiction #nerris #harrison #requests #my writing

[has-gilgamesh-doneanythingwrong]

Learning how to use the runes with Caster Cu (FGO)

I spent 6 hrs writing the most shamelessly self-indulgent headcanons ever Here, Caster will teach the FGO master the basics of the runes. Follow the master as they learn a bit about their origins, face rigorous testing, make their own set of runes; and use them for the very first time!

*Disclaimer: These headcanons will focus on the use of the Elder Futhark runes. (In fgo, they use both elder and younger futhark) As I’ve only been researching the Nordic runes for around 9 months, please take these headcanons with a pinch of salt! (also, fgo master will be gender neutral! Please enjoy.)

As soon as you broach the topic to him, Caster Cu’s face pales considerably; as images of Odin hanging upside down on the world tree for 9 days permeate his mind. Hopefully you weren’t asking him if you could do that... you weren't, right?

‘Shit...I knew this day would come.’ Awkwardly lowering his hood over his face (so then he can avoid looking at your expectant expression); Caster sighs. “Ah, yeah...Rune magic. Sure, I’ll teach you later...yeah, later.”

Hoping that his bluff is successful, he tries to dematerialize away as fast as possible. However, once you latch onto his pale blue coat to ask what you should do first, he finally caves in; knowing that there’s no way for him to worm his way out of this perilous situation.

“You know, you could try asking Skadi. Or how about Shishou? There’s a hell of a lot of other servants who know bits and pieces about the runes as well. How about you give ‘em a try first?”

When you admit that you want to learn from him, due to your deep appreciation for his extremely flashy use of the runes; Caster stifles a laugh. Yep, there really was no room for escape now.

“Well, I can’t fault you for that; I do look pretty damn cool in action!” Twirling his staff, Caster strikes a pose. “But I don’t get it. You’re already training in other arts. Why would you wanna load rune magic on top of that? You like drowning yourself in work or something??”

As you excitedly flapped your arms around, explaining how you liked watching him trace sparkling runes with his hands; and wanted to take his tree branch summoning skills for yourself, his eyes widen with surprise. He wasn’t expecting you to be this observant.

“Ah, you mean the Berkana/Berkano (ᛒ) rune? Yeah, that one represents the birch tree, so I can summon it. It also commonly symbolizes new beginnings and fertility...” Caster trails off as your braincells physically implode at his explanation.

Berkana? Birch trees? Fertility?! You had no idea what he was talking about right now. As a dour silence weighs heavily upon the two of you, a lightbulb of inspiration strikes Caster right in the head.

“Oi, master. Read up a little on the runes, and remember at least some of their names first. As your new teacher, that’ll be your first assignment. See ya!” And with that, he was gone, vanishing into thin air. Realizing that he had just agreed to teach you, your face sparkles with glee. Clenching your fists with all of your might, you march towards the library. Time would wait for no man!!!!

Exchanging friendly greetings with Murasaki, as you trundle through an entire emporium of books; it takes hours for you to find a book on the runes. Many of the books were in a language that you couldn’t read, however this one looked rather easy on the eyes.

Titled ‘Easy Rune Magic for Modern Mages’, you flick through a rather simplistic guide that provides you with the names and a single definition for each rune; but it provides you with little to no information on how to truly understand their meaning. With subheadings such as ‘How to use the Fehu (ᚠ) rune to generate wealth to pay for your magecraft PHD at the Clock Tower’ and ‘Is Thurisaz (ᚦ) more effective to use as a defensive spell or curse spell?’ you were officially BAMBOOZLED. Tired, you decide to throw in the towel for today.

However, on your way back to your room, a stroke of excellent luck manifests itself before you. Situated upon a sturdy pine table are none other than Sigurd and Byrnhildr, who are reading together. Although you find this scene to be rather adorable (seeing as they were both entirely intact, with no stabbing wounds to be seen); you decided to interrupt their date anyway.

“O-oh, master...” Byrnhildr blushes, as Sigurd waves politely. “What brings you here today?” Slamming your hands on the table, you passionately declare that you wish to learn more about the runes, but can’t understand them without gaining some insight into their history first. As Brynhildr’s eyes glimmer with a sense of appreciation at your open display of interest of their culture, Sigurd haphazardly pulls out the chair next to them.

“I’m glad to see you profess such a profound interest in the runes, master. Please sit down and join us.” Glasses sparkling ominously, Sigurd explains a little bit more about how the elder futhark runes work. He not only explains how Odin discovered their wisdom after hanging from the world tree Yggdrasil; but also tells you about how Odin shared their power with humankind, making him none other than the ‘Allfather’ of the runes.

At the mention of his name, Byrnhild’s expression sours somewhat; making you realize that the two most likely share personal ties with him.

“They’re a special alphabet that we can use to invoke the power and wisdom of the Norse gods, so be careful with them.”

Sigurd then goes on to explain how all 24 runes are separated into three Aetts- which are basically a means of dividing the runic characters into different categories.

“Each rune comes with a short poem. That way, you’ll be able to understand them and their context a little more.”

Once you thank him for the information, he replies with a “I hope I was of use. I’m very proud of you for asking us for help.”; as Byrnhildr returns with an entire truckload of books tucked within her arms!!!

“These books will be helpful! This one’s about the myths associated with the runes, and this one is a practical guide that’ll help cultivate understanding. As for this one, it explains their etymology.”

Byrnhildr chuckles at your gobsmacked expression, as the two of them heap the books into your own arms. “You don’t need to know everything about them, but it’ll be handy for you to develop a little bit of historical and lexical knowledge as well.”

‘I thought I only had to know their names and descriptions...!!’ Tears pooling within your eyes at the mountain of books, you thank them for their help and leave, as they wish you all the best with your studies (and prayed that one day you’d wish to speak to them in the language as well. They couldn’t wait for that opportunity!)

Sighing all the way back to your room, you gasp in surprise as you bump into none other than Skadi.

“Oh, good timing.” Passing you a bundle of golden-trimmed strips of ancient paper, Skadi smiles vigorously. “You can use these as flash cards for your rune training, as well. I’m surprised that you didn’t ask for my guidance, but that may have been for the best. I would’ve trained you thoroughly in the arts.”

A chill jolts through your spine at that. Who knows just how hard she would’ve trained you? Part of Skadi was Scathach, after all. Thanking her for her assistance, the two of you split paths.

‘I seem to be bumping into a lot of people today...’

Was this a mere coincidence, or perhaps something more?

A busy month full of book reading and writing notes onto your flash cards passes within a blur.

Mash had also shown great interest in your studies, and would help test you with your flashcards every day! However, you were still pretty confused about how long this stage of research would last for.

Whilst reading up on how runes could also be used to predict the future and provide advice for one’s dilemmas; and how the Nornir (3 deities of fate) determined this form of divination, you groan.

All of the people within the books had their own sets of runes, which they would use to communicate with the gods.

In other words, they could be used for divination as well as magic.

‘Why can’t I do that yet?’ You pout indignantly; snapping the book shut.

If Caster wouldn’t teach you rune magic, he could at least teach you about divination! Patience running thin, you decide to leap back into action.

It was time to confront your teacher, once and for all.

However, as soon as you exit your room; you are greeted by none other than Caster himself.

Almost tripping onto the floor with surprise, you gawp in shock at his appearance. With his staff and a mouth-watering cup of Darjeeling tea he had brought from one of Marie’s posthumous tea parties in his hands, Caster smirks. “Yo, master. Looks like I came just on time.”

As the two of you settle in the canteen for class (?), after a bit of small talk; you declare that you want to learn how to use the runes for divination. “If you won’t teach me magic, then I would like to learn how to communicate with the runes first, please!”

At this, he lets out an unusually loud guffaw of laughter. “Ahaha, so you finally worked it out, huh? Before you can use their magic; you gotta understand and communicate with the runes, as well. You’re a faster learner than I thought you’d be.”

Unsure whether this was a compliment or not, you enquire as to what he means by that. “It’s pretty simple: you can’t cast these bad boys without building a relationship with them first. On that note, let’s see how much you’ve learnt from your studies.”

His test is a nightmare.

As he barks the name of each rune from the First Aett (the first eight runes), you are forced to draw each and every one. If you get a rune wrong, he repeats it consistently until you draw the right alphabet for each one.

Afterwards, he takes you through a hellish journey as he asks you to provide at least one definition for each rune.

By the time you are done, night has already swept its veil over Chaldea; the halls devoid of any signs of life.

In other words, the two of you had been at this for the entire evening, which had definitely garnered you both the attention and pity of many staff and servants.

Stomach rumbling, you beg Caster to finish class for today.

“Yeah, sure. Whoops, looks like I got a bit carried away right there.” He has definitely inherited his deadly teaching style from Scathach.

When you ask him if you’re ready for the next bout of training; he frowns. “Nope, that was only the First Aett. You’ll only move to the next stage when you’ve memorized all THREE. In other words, get to learning all 24 runes!!” As you cry in despair, Caster shoots you a mischievous wink as he helps himself to the bar.

The dreaded tests continue on a weekly basis.

Not only do you have to deal with the challenges of the saving the world, helping out your allies and maintaining your own health; you also have to leap into the hellish jaws of rune testing with Caster Cu.

Albeit suffering greatly from the challenge, your spirit was also greatly roused. Learning about the runes was fun!

So much fun, that you’d often dream about them, and see their shapes in the food that you ate; and would even accidentally use their names in conversation sometimes, like saying: “Oh, I’m sure the energy of this rune would help with your headaches,” to a very bewildered Mash; or comparing the sunrise to the runes (which confused Shakespeare and Hans greatly. Actually, they are now worried about your health).

All in all, your studies were starting to take effect!!

It was finally time.

As Caster more or less yelled the name of each rune at you, your response was astounding. Not only were you able to draw the shape of every rune in a matter of seconds, you could also provide multiple readings for all 24 of them.

Eyebrows quirked with surprise, Caster sighs with relief. ‘Phew. Looks like class will be shorter than usual today.’

“Holy shit. You’ve done a damn great job, master. You got them all right!” As you roared with joy, pumping your fists into the air with glee; Caster almost fell off his chair- clutching his sides as he tried (yet failed) not to laugh. “Alright, buckle up. We’re gonna get you a set of runes now.”

A set of runes?! Your eyes sparkled at the prospect of finally being able to have runes of your own. It was about time, as well. You had grown sick of using your flash cards, you wanted the real thing!

However, you were confused about the concept of needing your own set. If Skadi and Caster Cu could manifest them just by using their hands, and magical devices; why would a person need to have a set of them? As you expressed your concern, Caster nods his head in understanding.

“I see your point. But even I have a set of runes, you know? It’s every bit as useful a method.” Unleashing a small, worn-out felt pouch; glimmering gems -whose rune inscriptions were engraved upon them in gold- splashed across the dining table. They were beautiful. “’Sides, there’s something exciting about making your own set.”

Your mind swims with excitement, as he describes the different materials that runes can be made from: bones, metal, gemstones, pebbles, glass, clay...there were endless options.

However, when you asked him if you could use your collection of Evil Bones to make a rune set, he chokes on his coffee- pure horror drenched across his features.

“No way in hell! You trying to get yourself killed? Never invoke the power of the runes on cursed items, master.” 

Then how about using QP or Mana Prisms as a base to inscribe the runes instead? Once you suggested this, his face paled somewhat. “Yeah, about that...don’t even think about it. You need those materials, you know.”

Grumpily threading his hands through blue locks of hair, he sighs. “Look, I’ll help you find some materials. Guess we could rayshift the next time I’m free or something...” As you cheer exuberantly, he can’t help but crack a small smile.

Being a teacher was a lot more amusing than he originally anticipated it to be. There was something fun about departing his knowledge. Besides, he had dedicated himself to becoming the guiding light of Chaldea anyway. ‘A little teaching hurts no-one.’

Using the light of the Soliwo (ᛊ) rune to guide the way, the two of you traverse through a forest heaving with verdant green trees and wildlife.

No matter how many pretty trees and tumbled pebbles you found by the riverside; you weren’t sure if they were the right material for you.

Just when you were about to give up, a powerful jolt of electricity beckons you; almost as if it’s calling your name. As soon as you alert Caster of your instinctual powers, he looks rather flummoxed at first; but is somewhat awed once his Soliwo rune’s light begins to shine in exactly the same direction as the one you’re pointing in!

‘Huh, that sure is weird.’

Things only get weirder, once you both come upon a ginormous slab of Labradorite. Situated neatly upon a bed of leaves. Placed carefully within the middle of the forest.

This timing was too good to be true.

As the electricity coursing through your veins triples in intensity, Caster has to hold you back before you cut loose. “Oi, wait up. Let me test this stone for safety first.”

Placing an Algiz (ᛉ) runestone in your hands to guarantee your protection, he saunters towards the massive hunk of Labradorite.

Chanting an incantation beneath his breath, the forest glows in an eerie blue light; as a pale magic circle glimmers beneath the stone. “Yeah, it’s safe. Pretty strange for it to be out here, though.”

As he sketches Thurisaz (ᚦ) (which not only symbolizes thorns, defense and danger, but can also be used as a means to channel a power akin to Thor’s hammer, mlonjir) onto his staff, he smashes it against the mass of Labradorite; splitting what was once an enormous rock into 24 neatly divided; brilliant blue gems.

Gathering them up, he thrusts them before you. “Here you go. That was a pretty lucky find, if I do say so myself.”

You thank him for your help- making sure to also pay homage to the awesome power of your intuition at the same time, which tickles Caster right in the funny bone.

As soon as the stones drop into your hand; they crackle with an immensely powerful energy, as if these gems were waiting for you!!

As you turn them onto the side; you are gobsmacked to see rune inscriptions already engraved onto each and every stone, as if they were reacting to the mana flowing within your body.

You ask Caster to take a look at this strange phenomenon for you.

“Whoa, are you kidding me? That’s pretty awesome. Let me take a look, too.” As you gently stretch your palms towards Caster- trying to keep the runestones steady in your hands- he gently takes your palms, leaning towards them.

As he catches sight of the engravings lying upon them, his crimson eyes widen with bewilderment. “Holy shit...I think the gods just made you an offering. You’re secretly packing a shitload of power in there, ain’t you? Great job!”

Ruffling your hair, Caster grins. “Think you’ve got time for more teaching?”

As you nod your head, anticipation clear on your features; he plonks onto the ground, handing you a felt pouch. “Put them in there. Try doing your first reading, see what rune speaks to you first!”

Eagerly plonking all 24 runes into the sparkly pouch, you close your eyes and concentrate; beseeching the contact of the gods. Imagining yourself encountering the Nonrnir, as you visualize dropping into the center of the world; you place a hand within your pouch.

Rummaging around the bag, a single rune sends energy rippling through your fingers. That was the one! Pulling it out of the bag, you grin excitedly...only to see that it was none other than...

Nauthiz (ᚾ).

‘Aw shite...’ Disappointed by the rune, you sigh. You wished that your rune could’ve been a more positive one! However, Caster’s reaction was rather different to yours.

“Hey, it’s not as bad as it looks.” Figure illuminated by the sun, he looked much more chill than usual. “Nauthiz is all about your needs, you know? With all the singularities popping up recently, I wouldn’t be surprised if you’re pushing yourself too far.”

“But this rune is basically saying ‘lol you’re suffering’...It’s frustrating.” You counter him.

You knew all too well about the massive strains your body was going through, the transformations you were forced to undergo. Sometimes, it was just too painful for you to bear. Seeing this rune only served as a reminder of that fact.

“How about you look at it from a different perspective? Even though things are way outta wack for you, a small fire still burns. Doesn’t Nauthiz look a bit like two twigs that you’d see in a fire?” Now that was a funny observation. As you smiled at that, he continued. “It just means that no matter how hard things become; all you gotta do is balance your needs and continue to fight. Nauthiz is also screaming ‘oi, damnit! Don’t give up here, you can survive and make it out the other side sparkling like brand new, you hear me??’”

You were very grateful to hear that. Now you realized that even the most ominous of runes also came with signs of fortune and peace.

In other words, they would be there to support you all the way. Thanking him for his great insight, he replies with a simple “Well, I’m the wise one you know? Anyway, you know the saying. Even the coldest of ice thaws someday.”

As you correctly link his adage to the runes, he claps with pride. “Nice, nice. Well, that’ll be all for my teaching. Soon you’ll be able to do readings with nine or more runes!”

But once you yell to him about how you want to use runes such as Kenaz (ᚲ) to fulfil your long-standing desire to set shit on fire; his expression hardens.

“I ain’t teaching you rune magic until you learn how to master rune divination. Don’t push your luck too far~ Come visit me again once you learn how to read the past, present and future with them!” As you indigently complain about how you still want to summon birch trees, and about how difficult it was to learn about the runes; he bursts into rancorous laughter. “That’s not my problem! C’mon, lay off a little...”

Frustrated, you finally give up, asking for one last request. “Caster. What rune will you get if you do a single reading? I would like to see.”

Begrudgingly adhering to your request, he unearths none other than the Ansuz (ᚨ) rune.

“Ah, my favorite. Well, that’s it for today. Let’s go back.” As he turns away, a frightening wind blows through the trees, as a dark shadow drifts over his figure.

In that very moment, he becomes a dark specter within a bountiful forest filled with brilliant light; as his form briefly flickers and shifts, melding into an entire kaleidoscope of distinct beings.

But all it took was a single blink for his form to return back to normal again.

How strange...Was that none other than an illusion? Were your eyes playing tricks with you? Silently trailing behind, you contemplated the meaning behind the rune he had drawn.

Ansuz...It commonly symbolized communication, breath, and chiefly of all...it was the rune that represented none other than Odin himself.

In addition to that, you saw how the rune landed on its side when Caster drew it, and the mysterious glint in his eyes.

Was Caster hiding something? You couldn’t quite put your finger on it.

‘Just who is Caster Cu really?’ Such a thought weighed dangerously heavy within your mind as the two of you took the steep path back home.

By learning more about the runes, you may have unlocked the door to an endless chasm of mysteries; one that had ties directly linking to the deeper truths lying behind Chaldea...

THE END

Omg this was only meant to be like 1,000 words. But I got extremely invested within this concept and was burning with great excitement, which lead to this becoming SUPER LONG XD Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this ;; Also dw learning runes in real life isn’t as hardcore as this, I promise you!

#fgo #fate series #caster cu #cu chulainn #sigurd #byrnhild #gilgablog #my writing #AAAAAH THIS TOOK 6 HRS IT WAS FUN VERY FUN BUT I ALSO WAS LOOKING AT ALL ME BOOKS ... but im like if dw wont do it then i will! so i did.

[missorgana]

would everything be different today?

characters/pairings: thor and loki, loki/mobius

fandom: marvel cinematic universe

rating: general

word count: 3913

warning: canon character death

summary: Prior to Loki's arrest, Thor attempts to save them and is arrested by the TVA himself. And sure, he doesn't understand much of this institution, but he's pretty sure this Mobius has taken a liking to his younger sibling. (pre-canon, thor pov)

(still obsessing over loki, who’s surprised? no one! half of this fic was written at 2am when i was Not sober, my beloved Cat / @howgodforgives read it for me tho because they’re perfect!! 💖 this is an au... supposed to happen pre-canon... inspired by this post and this post, i love them too much and simply mashed the 2 concepts together so ya. enjoy ??)

read on ao3

Thor thought he could just do one thing. And when Steve revealed his plan about utilizing their time traveling device, just one last time, the offer his friend came with for him to go back was something he had to.

He had a chance to save Loki.

Now, he knows this is far from thought out, far from logical, and Thor never told Steve when he himself was traveling to. They trusted each other, Avengers and all.

Thor knows he could save their mother, too, if he wanted, but perhaps grief was clouding his vision because he’s simply lost too many, and he’ll be damned if he’d let Loki slip away from him after everything they’ve been through.

They were making progress… weren’t they?

It surely couldn’t be another one of his tricks, and although Thor has been naive in the past, he simply can’t lose her. Not now. Not yet.

And so he goes back for them, and he gets there, he’s on the ship, Heimdall and Loki and Valkyrie and Korg and  Thanos  , and Thor’s never been prone to irrational anger, he  tries , but everything happening all over again in such an overwhelming way nearly has sparks jumping from eyes and fingertips.

Thor is so close. And then he isn’t.

He can’t comprehend what happens, but he’s out of time, out of place, and he’s in what resembles most those office buildings he’s seen so many of Midgard. Being crammed in an elevator with these strange people gave him eerie flashbacks to Sakaar, until he’s finally greeted by a significantly short human, brown suit, silver hair and moustache and a lop-sided grin.

Naturally, Thor smiles back in the midst of his confusion, it’s only good manners, you hear.

“Ah!” the man exclaims, patting his elbow with the other hand guiding him forward, “The god of thunder himself! Mighty pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

He nods, following, unsure still what’s going on. But Thor’s made too many enemies of a human lifetime, a long time ago, and he wouldn’t want to get on these humans’ bad side, even though they technically kidnapped him… peculiar.

If Loki was here, they’d probably have their knife ready at lightning speed. Classic Loki.

“Well, thank you! I wish I could say the same, but I’m not sure… where I am,” Thor answers. This really does look like an office, one the Midgardians had a decade or so, probably, before they updated themselves. Modernization, that’s what it’s called, silly humans.

“Fair is fair,” the grey haired human turns to him, “Welcome to the Time Variance Authority, TVA for short! I think I speak for everyone here when I say we’re excited to have you here.”

The man chuckles, and Thor doesn’t know if it’s to himself or directed towards him, until the human shrugs. There’s still two of those persons with weaponry and strange glowing devices on either side of them, and it seems his new acquaintance realises the need for explanation.

“Well, technically, you’re not staying as much as… you’re under arrest,” he then says, smile turning hesitant and scratching his cheek.

Arrest?!  

That’s certainly a surprise, given human laws don’t really apply to his own kind. Of course, Avenging has different rules and such… but alas.

It seems his new friend notices his eyes widen, significantly, “But don’t worry, buddy! You’re a special case, of course.”

Thor stammers, he always feels a certain embarrassment over himself when this happens, “May I- may I ask for what offense? I don’t mean to offend, these quarters are quite splendid, but Midgard and Asgard operate different-”

“Oh no,” the man interrupts, keeping a quick pace, “I’m afraid this isn’t Midgard, big guy. The TVA, we, well, control all of time!”

The guards escorting them, they must be guards, stop at the same time Thor stops in pure shock. His father never mentioned anything like this. Is this part of the nine realms? He wonders who these people are, if not human. They surely cannot be gods?

“You control… time?”

“Exactamundo! The sacred timeline, to be precise. Let me show you,” his new acquaintance guides him further with that, until they reach a strangely void room, a single table, pair of chairs and some sort of machine the only things in sight. One of those Midgardian ‘computers’?

And when he’s seated (the chair isn’t quite built for a god of his stature, but he shouldn’t complain, politeness is key, of course), this strange man shows him what appears to be a video. A video of… his life. Thor’s life, that is.

This is absurd. “How do you know this? What-”

“We know everything, buddy,” the man tells him, shuts down the device, grin sheepish, “It’s in the job description, you see?”

Thor doesn’t know what to think, rather, his mind feels somehow numb.

He was just with Loki, she was there, within his grasp, then… this. Thor also doesn’t know how long he sits staring at his acquaintance in confusion until another thought dawns upon him, “Do you have Steve Rogers, too?”

The grin lessens, mouth forming a small o, but the man nods once, “Ah, yes, another department. You two sure know how to cause trouble, huh?”

So he gets an answer, but it leaves him none the wiser, or clearer headed, or understanding. It rather feels like those sort of outlandish dreams children have, like he had when he was younger.

But what can he do? Just face this head-on?

Thor wonders if Heimdall can see him right now. Not… his Heimdall, another Heimdall, who might be alive. A Loki who might be alive, if he can save them.

“May I ask one more question of you, uh…”

“Mobius M. Mobius, at your service.”

“Ah,” he replies, and hesitantly smiles back at the grin he receives, “Then why am I here? This  department , I mean?”

The stranger, Mobius, chuckles. It’s short handed and with the professionalism of those Midgardian businessmen with replicated suits and briefcases and phones chiming them down. Is this Mobius even human? More Asgardian?

“We’re in need of assistance, you might say,” he finally answers, and turns to power up the machinery once more, “And I, for one, have a feeling you might be invaluable for the cause.”

*

Although Thor is not sure he yet understands everything in this strange world he’s now come into, this new friend, Mobius, is very educational, and while the thought of being arrested wasn’t all too pleasing, apparently, they wished for him to work for them, instead.

His offence, that’s yet another thing he still doesn’t understand. Thor wasn’t aware of this, uh, this  Sacred Timeline , as they call it. Surely a god of his status should’ve been told, shouldn’t he?

He comes to wonder if their father ever knew about this.

Thor is fairly sure about one thing, that Odin wouldn’t possibly have told them, had he had that knowledge. And what about Hela?

But he quickly learns not to think about this too much, and he counts about three Asgardian weeks in the TVA, although he has no idea how time works  here , at all. Mobius always says it’s too complicated to explain, maybe he thinks Thor wouldn’t understand.

Loki always said he was as dumb as a doornail. But she never meant it out of spite, he reasons, surely, they’ve always had that sense of humor between the two of them. He loves Loki very much, even when she lets him down. He only hopes his younger sibling feels the same.

Speaking of Loki, that is another thing Thor learns in this weird world- uh, city? Country? Timeline? The TVA is its own thing entirely.

But what he learns, much like his whole life, is that his destiny will forever and always be tied to Loki, and Loki’s to his. Because his new friends at the TVA hired him to find, and catch, his younger sibling and bring them in for a similar crime to his own.

Although he’s also  killing people in the process, Mobius explains much to Thor’s horror, and he’ll have to make sure Loki’s not hurt when he finds him, and ask him why this bloodshed is necessary. Again.

Of course, there must be a good reason as to why she’s doing it, he had a good reason to mess with the timeline himself, he must say, and Loki is incredibly clever, his younger sibling’s grand scheme must be extraordinary. He just wishes she wouldn’t hurt other people in the process, they’ve been over this, but she was getting better!

As Mobius put it, “You know them better than anyone, pal, I’ve got a hunch you’re the only one who can find out where they’re hiding. Well, besides themselves.”

Yes, Thor was not certain this was a good idea.

He traveled back in time to  save his younger sibling, not cause him even more pain. But Mobius seems somewhat trustworthy, and very polite. He assured him justice would be served fairly, and even a lesser punishment considering the help he himself provides!

Sometimes, Thor has to follow his gut. Loki always hated this trait of his.

This work proves tricky, and tedious, and of course, his sibling is sneaky and manages to escape the TVA time and time again, and if they would just bring Thor with them, surely, he could talk to her. Not apprehend her, but  communicate . Not everyone here trusts him as much as Mobius, though, regrettably.

What is curious about his new friend, and Thor’s spent a few nights now racking his brain about this, is that some of the questions he’s posed about Loki are quite specific.

They must be important for the case, he figures.

Just a week ago, hunched over files and files of timeline lingo and alternate futures that Thor has several conflicting emotions about reading, the grey haired man looked up from his scribbles and met his eye.

“Say, Thor,” he started, scratching his chin and twirling the pen in his hand, “Loki ever tell ya what they fancy for dinner?”

And the god had to blink, shuffling the papers. Did he hear it correctly?

“Dinner?”

“I mean, humans, they have favorite foods, you know? Like, preferences,” he chuckled, “I only assume Asgardians are similar?”

Thor smiles as he does when in situations where he doesn’t understand what’s going on, but simple curiousity never hurt anyone. This person’s strange, stranger than the Avengers, but he loved them all the same. “Of course. Loki’s very fond of goat. Herring, too, and our mother’s apple pie.”

Mobius nodded with a grin, and spoke no more of the subject, until two days later (Thor  thinks  it was two days, as mentioned before, time here confuses him profusely), where his friend inquired him about his younger sibling’s eye color.

They’re blue, clearly.

More muted than Thor’s own, but never grey, although some of these files have wrongly informed otherwise.

Really, this interest Mobius reveals in his younger sibling doesn’t faze him at first, but he’s thinking about it more and more often, as it turns out. And today, when the suited man asks him if Loki might be interested in water sports, it only sends Thor further into the obyss of confusion.

Firstly, he’s not sure what these water sports entail. Second, although he doesn’t doubt Mobius is a reasonable man, what does this have to do with arresting Loki?

“Forgive me,” Thor replies, “What are, uh… water sports?”

“Oh, yes! Sorry, big guy. Ya know, jetskis are quite fun for humans and otherwise. Diving, too. You think Loki would like that sort of thing?”

The god finds himself worrying his lip with little answer to the peculiar question. “Perhaps. They love adventures, you see, that’s a thing we have in common. You think Loki’s hiding somewhere, with, uh… jetskis?”

The grey haired man shrugs. Quite strange.

Then his friend continues as they walk along the hall, past several hunters and seemingly high security offices, “She must like jokes, right?”

“Oh, of course.”

Mobius laughs, “I figured,” and his smile isn’t aimed at Thor, but somewhere into the open air, distant and unexplainably fond, “God of Mischief, pranks in his blood. I’m not too bad myself.”

“Huh?”

When the shorter man opens the door for him, he shrugs again, “Sorry, buddy, this way. I mean, they’re incredibly witty. Don’t need to tell you that, I get it. I heard this joke from a Variant, I think they might like that one. You know it? So once there was-”

And so Mobius continues on, the joke must be brilliant, he’s already wheezing to himself, but now, the god’s pretty sure he understands.

Oh.

Oh.

Thor’s not as stupid as Loki claims, you see. And he has to say, he knows courtship when he sees it.

*

Does Thor understand why his younger sibling- or, a version of her, regardless, is hiding out in historic  apocalypses ? No, there’s not much logic in this, but it’s certainly in no way surprising.

Loki’s got a knack for adventures and danger simultaneously, after all.

But when he realises what Loki’s doing, he simply has to go, even if his moustached friend isn’t sure how to clear it with the TVA, or if it’s breaking the rules, but isn’t this what they assigned the god to do in the first place?

This is his younger sibling. Loki’s alive. And Thor, well, like he’s done all his life, and like Loki’s done all their life, one must always follow the other, at one point or the other. It’s fate, he decides.

And he finds him,  finally , after what feels as hundreds of millions of human years and even longer of their own, in the human city of Pompeii.

Loki isn’t exactly pleased to hear the TVA coming, that much is obvious from his face, but Thor is alone, and it’s only a matter of time before Mobius arrives, so Thor must find a chance to talk to his sibling alone.

And his sibling’s face changes from the expectant grin of a plan to kill the minutemen when they arrive to a gaping mouth in shock. Then realisation. Then frustration.

“Loki!”

And the god of mischief groans, exasperated and loud, the screams of the civilians barely fazing them, “Thor.”

It’s a matter of time, then, because they don’t  have much time before they’ll be sunken into the ground they’re standing on, and like Thor first started out his adventure in the Sacred Timeline, his first thought is to get Loki out of there.

It’s his first priority, to keep her safe. There’ll be no death. Not today. Not again.

His younger sibling has their eyes on the volcano as well, their many differences being so in sync at the strangest of times, and before Thor can even think about it, Loki reaches for his arm and they’re teleported somewhere- and some… when? else entirely.

It’s eerily quiet here, a distant rumble from the sky. Rocks as far as he can see. Darkness, besides bolts of lightning striking into the ocean before them, and blinking lights distantly behind them.

And here Loki is; a Variant like himself, as Mobius called it. Breathing.

“Why is it,” she nearly yells, clutching the strange device in her hand and giving Thor that familiar glare of destruction, “You always find a way, somehow,  anywhere, to ruin my perfect plan, brother? How? How are you here, you damn fool!?”

The insult is as it always is, and Loki looks like his blood might nearly boil over, but Thor just can’t help it. 

He feels the tears in his eyes before they even fall. “Loki.”

“What-”

It’s only a small handful of times in all the centuries they’ve lived that he’s managed to stun his sibling into silence, a loss of words. This is another incident to add to the list.

Thor grips on so tight, he never wants to let go.

He can’t remember the last time they hugged, actually. It might’ve been when they were children.

Loki pats on his back, after a minute or two, and a breath of annoyance and… something else sounds at the same time as his own staggering breathing. His sibling’s never returned his hugs, you see, but she’s doing it now. At least, Thor surely wouldn’t mistake her holding onto him, albeit not as tightly as himself.

They sigh, “What has gotten into you now, you idiot?”

Thor laughs. It’s strained, but it feels  good. That one, that’s a thing he’s missed. Loki will surely think he’s lost his mind, but there’s nothing he’d rather do right now than listen to him call him the crudest things they could think of.

It feels like coming back home.

“You’re alive,” Thor whispers.

Loki huffs. “You’ve fallen for my fake death, huh? You fall for it every time.”

He shakes his head in response, knowing his sibling won’t be able to see it, but ultimately lets go, and just looks at them. He smiles. Weirdly, hesitantly, confusedly, Loki smiles back.

“You’re an idiot,” she tells him again, but it’s softer this time.

“Where have you taken us?” Thor asks instead, and the answer is for once a place he knows of, “This is Midgard, brother, but way after the humans. In about an hour, it’ll be nothing but dust.”

That’s a frightening thought, he decides. He’s already seen Asgard in ruins.

And Thor has to take him somewhere safer, before Mobius arrives. They can’t go back to the TVA without some explanation, Loki deserves that.

His sibling seems severely surprised when he uses his own device, and a protest begins, of course, but Thor finds the right time, in Asgard, and jumps them both to it. Before their mother’s death. They’ll have to steer clear of the past versions of themselves, and their parents, and anyone else, considering Loki was imprisoned, but they’ll be safe.

And easy to spot.

“Now is not a time for a homecoming, Thor,” she tells him, already pulling up the device.

“Loki, no,” he reaches out, and Loki reaches for their knife, classic Loki, “Give me time to explain, before they come.”

He rolls his eyes but doesn’t raise the knife, “You’re not taking me to the TVA, brother.”

Thor blinks. He almost wants to rewind time on that little screen in his hand, to make sure he heard them right, but stranger things have happened. “You know about the TVA?”

“Of course I do, you buffoon. Who do you think I’m running from?”

He bites his tongue. Oh.

Thor has to shrug. Loki sighs again.

“I know, I know, they’ll arrest me for crimes against the  Sacred Timeline  ,” they say, in an overly dramatic voice and throwing around their hands in flourish, “I can’t believe they got you to help them. I can’t believe  you found me.”

It feels quite like the good, old days, as Stark used to say. “I know you, Loki, even if you don’t think I do.”

They both settle into silence, and this is also strange, but the smile he gets in return, less confused and more nostalgic and… safe, it makes it worth it.

Then, the device in Thor’s hand beeps, and he lets his sibling look at it, and he looks all the more annoyed again.

“Guess I’ll have to surrender now, because of you,” she grumbles, for once, not searching for an escape route, “Who’s leading, anyway? B-15?”

Thor pats his shoulder, in what he hopes conveys comfort. “I’m not familiar, unfortunately. This leader is named Mobius.”

His sibling frowns, but shrugs non committedly, “A new face, then.”

It’s not very often Thor sees Loki in this state, confusion, if ever. His younger sibling’s always been one step ahead of them, two, even, himself struggling to keep up. That’s why he’s always had to watch out for them, before… before the Avengers.

“He seems very interested in you,” he chuckles, and when Loki only frowns deeper, he has to explain his ongoing suspicion, “He’s asked me a great many questions about you. I believe he admires you very much. Even more than myself.”

“So he’s a fan,” Loki says - ignoring the last statement of his, of course, but Thor knows she heard it.

“I’d say more than a fan,” he decides to be honest, and Loki’s brows furrow. Thor pats his sibling’s shoulder once more, “He holds, it seems, similar feelings to when I was courting Lady Jane.”

Loki looks like a giant question mark. “I beg your pardon?”

But they’re interrupted, as per usual. The answer Thor wants out doesn’t get out before Mobius steps out of the time portal, and grins at them both. He seems to hold his gaze at his sibling a little bit longer. His demeanor’s calm, as if… recognition. Coming back home.

And Loki stares back at their brother, eyes wide and brows raised, tilting her head, “This is the Mobius who wants to… court me?”

Thor nods. Loki’s mouth turns upwards to a grin, mischief absent from his face. And even if they’ll deny it if Thor mentions it, his younger sibling’s eyes hold a certain warmth when they look back at the stranger. “I see.”

*

Many great strange things have happened in what seems a short amount of time, but Thor’s put out of work at the TVA, and his sibling’s put to work instead, and Mobius tells him they’ll  reset  him.

“Don’t worry, big guy, it doesn’t hurt,” he chuckles, adjusting his tie, “Your friend Steve had the same deal. Wouldn’t call it punishment, but it’s subjective. You did good work, ya know.”

Loki’s sat at Mobius’ now abandoned desk, one hand on a stack of case files, her eyes meeting with Thor’s own. They’re used to goodbyes, as you can tell. And emotions aren’t exactly their strongest suit.

But his sibling nods to him. The smile has no hints of sarcasm, so he counts it as a win. As progress.

Thor doesn’t know if he can stop worrying, after all. He’ll always do it, and what if he, another version of himself, tries to go back in time again?

Loki’s the only family he has left. But at the same time, his younger sibling is right. 

The sun will shine on us again. In another timeline, another universe, he figures. For now, Thor will have to let go, but they’ll always be connected after all. Thor and Loki couldn't be more different, but somehow the same.

“She’ll be safe here?” he asks, because he  has to, “You’re certain?”

Mobius smiles, like he’s heard it a million times before, “I promised you. I keep my promises, Thor.”

Of course. Of course. It’ll be fine. He’ll be fine.

“You ready?” his suited friend then asks, and he hesitantly nods.

“Ready as I’ll ever be.”

The man nods back, and the device in his hand lights up. The seconds seem excruciatingly long, but he’s got to get back, get moving, even without his younger sibling beside him. It’s a comforting thought, knowing there’s many more of them out there, in other timelines, following each other over and over again, as they’re meant to.

“Thank you, by the way,” Mobius then says, strangely enough, as the beams become stronger and the seconds count down. He winks before holding it out to Thor, a gesture for the reset to be complete, “For bringing them back to me.”

#mine #my writing #marveledit #fanfiction #mcu #sabrinasfamily #meghansfamily #brodinsons #lokius #loki x mobius #marvel tv #loki #loki tv #general rating #angst #reunion #brotherly love #pre canon #canon divergence #thor pov #tw: death #marvel fanfiction #mcusociety #eloquencenet #siblings #family issues #marvel

[fortisfiliae]

Promised Part 6 - Tom Riddle x reader

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15 | Part 16 | Part 17 | Masterpost | Masterlist

Summary: In this story, Tom didn’t grow up as an orphan, but with his grandfather and uncle. Reader’s sister got very sick and the Gaunts offer their help. But not without asking for something in return.

Disclaimer: Please be aware that I don’t condone any of this in real life.

Warnings: Arranged marriage

Word count: 2k

Part 6 - Of Vows and Wrangles

Winter came suddenly this year, and so did Christmas. With all the schoolwork you had been doing for the upcoming N.E.W.T.s in June, the weeks had passed by as quickly as a snitch on the Quidditch field. The holidays were a much-needed break and to see your family again was an even bigger delight.

Elsie did great. She looked like nothing had ever happened to her. No curse, no illness that had almost cost her life. She ran around the house like the years before, excited for the big day to finally come. The house-elves seemed glad to have her and all her shenanigans back as well. Much to your parent’s dismay, but they let most of it slide. They were thankful their daughter was healthy enough to fool around again. And so were you.

Christmas day was as cosy and joyful as ever. You spent the whole day with Elsie and your parents, exchanged gifts and played together. Elsie got her first broom and started her first attempt at flying, which resulted in a knocked over vase, that split into a million pieces, and a crash landing into the fireplace. Some tears were shed and dried again, and a “no flying inside” rule was established, which resulted in another crying fit. Oh, how you had missed it all.

Your mother had waited until the late evening to tell you that the Gaunts would come to visit for lunch the next day. She must have known that you would pepper her with questions again. It was necessary and polite, she said, to invite the future family and show them your interest.

There was certainly no interest to be given to Tom’s grandfather and uncle, but now that you thought of Tom, you had to admit that you missed him. How he had held your hand, how surprisingly cautious and gentle he had been. This memory was embedded in your brain. You would have expected anything but this from him. Anything but that soft and coy demeanour. Those minutes of proximity had told you more about him than seven years of school had. And still, it made you nervous thinking about meeting him along with his family again. They were the ones that must have made him so cold. So you fell asleep, anticipation and tension crawling through your every vein.

The Gaunts arrived in a rush and brought in a whiff of cold air that not even the fire in the chimney could drown out. Tom acknowledged you this time though. Not like months before when they had come to your house. You could have sworn that there was even a hint of a smile on his lips when he laid his eyes upon you. A smile that you reciprocated, rather faintly as well.

Lunch was alright. A lot of forced formalities and small talk, some tired attempts of getting to know the future family. Tom was quiet, as usual, only talked when someone asked him something directly, while Morfin and Marvolo ate so voraciously, the house-elves had trouble filling up their plates in time.

The Christmas spirit was spoiled when presents were brought up. Marvolo asked about Elsie’s new broom and why on Merlin’s green earth your parents would gift such a thing to a girl. He held back his laughter and shook his head when Elsie explained so excitedly that she couldn’t wait to learn how to fly in Hogwarts. Bastard.

Marvolo noticed the look you gave him and seemed to take it as a challenge, so he stared back at you, his filthy grin still in place. His head leant sideways as he waited for you to say something, his eyes squinted as if to tell you to go on and tell him what bothered you. How you would have loved to smash his face against the table or curse him into oblivion. Your teeth hurt from how hard you clenched your jaw. You couldn’t. You wanted to tell him so badly what an awful, disgusting, obsolete excuse for a man he was. But you mustn’t. He still had Elsie’s life in his hands. So you stayed silent when he whispered, “That’s what I thought.”

“Anyway,” your Father said in an attempt to ease the tension. “What are your plans for the remaining holidays?”

“There’s not a lot to do these days, is there?” Marvolo answered. “But now that you bring it up, we had something special planned for today.”

Morfin grinned as he shoved the last spoonful of mashed potatoes into his mouth.

“And what is that?” Father asked.

“Well now that your little one is doing much better, which I assume you’re very thankful for,” he paused to wait for your parents to agree. “We decided to accept your invitation for today, to bring our mutual pact to the next stage.”

Your Mother quickly told the elves to take Elsie upstairs, while you looked over at Tom questioningly, but he shrugged and shook his head, letting you know he didn’t know what was going on either.

“The next stage?” Father asked. “What do you mean by that?”

“Since we’ve done our part of the agreement already, exceedingly fast and precise might I add, and the wedding is still months away, we want to make sure we will get what we asked for. You see, I respect you and your family of course, but one can never be sure enough. We don’t want to be tricked or exploited. So we’re asking for an unbreakable vow. Between Tom and your daughter.” 

“A vow?” Mother was appalled. “What for?”

“For the marriage of course,” Marvolo said. “A promise that the marriage will be solemnised, that cannot be withdrawn from either side.”

Your breath got stuck in your throat. First the marriage and now this? If you agreed, the Gaunts would have both Elsie and you under their control. Infringing an unbreakable vow resulted in death and they would never stop asking for things if you agreed to this. 

“Marvolo,” Father began and sighed. “Don’t you think it’s enough? That we agreed to do this for the sake of my youngest child? You haven’t broken her curse entirely so you can use her as leverage. And now you expect me to bring my second child in mortal danger as well?”

“There’s no danger if the plan proceeds as we agreed,” Marvolo answered. “The vow can’t harm her if she plays by the rules.”

“She played by the rules,” Mother said. “She still does. Everyone’s been playing by your rules, so why do you want to add the vow?”

“As I said, I don’t want to be tricked. It’s merely a way to protect my family. And with all due respect, your reaction makes it seem like you’re up to no good already. Who knows? Perhaps you’ve changed your minds.”

Protect his family… He would sell both Tom and Morfin for a Galleon and a half if he could. He was paranoid. You were still lost for words and didn’t want to speak, even though a million thoughts rushed through your mind. You knew every word that could possibly leave your mouth right now would be filthy and full of anger, and Marlovo was waiting for you to burst. 

He turned to you. “What do you say, child? Don’t you want to prove your loyalty?”

You sucked in a breath and were about to answer when Tom suddenly stood up. “Enough! I want a word.”

“You want a word?” Marvolo laughed disparagingly.

“Now,” Tom turned to your parents. “Is there a room we can go to?”

“The reading room, right across the corridor,” Mother said and showed them the way.

You followed the three men and your Mother, and watched them enter the reading room. Mother turned towards you.

“Don’t eavesdrop, darling,” she said. “Give them some privacy.”

“Do you really think Marvolo deserves privacy?”

“No. He’s an awful man.”

“He is,” Father said as he joined you.

“We’re not going to let him do this to you,” Mother promised. “You’ve already done enough. Marvolo is out of his mind.”

“He’s greedy,” Father added. “Insatiable.”

You leant your head against the door to the reading room and pressed your ear onto it, trying to hear what they were talking about. Mother motioned for you to stop, but didn’t prevent you from listening.

First, you heard nothing. Silence, then footsteps tipping across the room. Mumbled words that were so washed out you could barely understand what they meant.

Tom’s voice echoed from the walls. “You can’t be serious. Why would you ask for more? And why didn’t you tell me?”

Marvolo answered quietly. You could only guess what he was saying. Something like “Why would I?”

Mother appeared next to you. You grinned but didn’t say anything, knowing you had gotten your curiosity from her. She flicked her wand silently and cast a spell that diminished the sound barrier, so you could hear every word that was spoken inside the room.

“I’m not going to let you go through with this,” Tom said.

Marvolo snickered. “And you think I care what you’re allowing me to do?”

“I know you don’t,” Tom answered. “But I won’t comply. You can’t force anyone to make an unbreakable vow. Not even with the Imperius curse. And you know that.”

“What are you doing this for?” Morfin suddenly participated. “For the girl? You know things will only get worse if you refuse.”

A moment of silence occurred.

“Oh, would you look at that,” Morfin chuckled. “You do like her, don’t you? Well, at least Father’s letter wasn’t in vain then.”

Tom didn’t answer.

“And her? How will you make her fall for you?” Morfin asked. “If you need a little love potion, I can provide that.”

“How dare you bring that up,” Tom spat. “You know I would never.”

“Well, Father,” Morfin went on. “Looks like Tom thinks he can do it all on his own.”

“Now listen to me, son,” Marvolo said. “If you think you can disobey me like that, without any consequences, you must take me for a fool. To say that I’m disappointed is an understatement. Just know that there will be more to it.”

They scurried around. Marvolo and Morfin seemed to leave through the Floo Network. You assumed Tom would follow them but could hear him roaming around the room for another minute until his steps wandered towards the door. Both you and your mother stepped away quickly. Mother fixed her hair and you tried to come off as innocently as possible.

Tom stood in the door frame, chest heaving slightly and the doorknob in his hand.

“Grandfather and uncle left through the fireplace,” he said. “I’ll go too, I just need a minute, if you’ll allow.”

Mother looked at him like she looked at Elsie when she grazed her knee or hit her head. Her eyes weren’t as stern as you expected them to be, but soft and full of pity. 

“Why don’t you stay for a bit, Tom?” she asked. “We still have so much food left from lunch, we could need a bit of help before it goes to waste.”

Tom looked at her and nodded slowly. He must have known that she didn’t invite him to prevent wasting food. But apparently he didn’t care what her reasons were. He just accepted it and you thought that was fair.

“Would you show him around, darling?” Mother asked you. “While I tell the elves to prepare the guest room.”

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15 | Part 16 | Part 17 | Masterpost | Masterlist

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[moondustaeil]

ᴄᴏʟᴏᴜʀɪᴢᴇᴅ ᴇᴄʀᴜ ⊰❀ ᴋ.ᴊᴡ

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ✧☾.·:·. colourized ecru

⠀ ⠀⠀ about

⋅  genre : soulmates!au - fluff, angst, suggestive content

⋅  pairing : Jungwoo x reader

⋅  word count : 25.8k

⋅  warning: it gets a little bit suggestive at the end, but no actual smut

⠀ ⠀  ⠀ ⠀

⠀ ⠀⠀ synopsis

⋅   “Pick a colour” said lady Cyan who was strangely familiar. Your fingertip had endlessly trailed over the palette, but you picked ecru. Every day that goes by: you sit under the Daimyo oak that protected five little daisies, little did you know one of the five daisies is willing to give you a “loves me” or “loves me not” with Jungwoo, the boy from the enchanted soulmate library...

⠀ ⠀  ⠀ ⠀

⠀ ⠀⠀ colours

⋅  this is a collab created by @neo-cult-ure​ , where me and other writers went for a soulmate concept but each went our own ways with a specific plot. I would like to take the time to thank everyone in this collab: for the friendship and for the process that we underwent together ! Please check out their fics as well. [Author’s note is at the bottom]

「ᴡʜɪᴛᴇ : # ꜰꜰꜰꜰꜰꜰ」

Sat with your back against a tree, it nearly appears that you're one of the stereotypical nature-lovers on earth. It would have looked like a regular thing to do, if only you held a cliché poetry book, or if you weren't sitting there whilst clouds were turning into a very dark shade of blue. The if-only scenarios were only fiction as in reality you were sitting against a tree in the middle of a weather transition, your hands empty and your eyes shut.

"pick a colour," a faint but comforting voice tells you, you nearly feel comfortable due to the sugary sweet undertone in the voice if it weren't for the pair of eyes you were greeted with. The cyan-coloured eyes look straight into yours even if yours were shut in reality.

Upon hearing the request, your eyes open themselves to do as you are asked. A soft layer of dust seems to coat your eyelashes which causes your eyes to flutter open a couple of times before you're greeted with the world. Your expectations don't meet up with what's actually in front of you, the last thing you had in mind was an empty landscape on each angle that your eyes explored. No one with a cyan-coloured pair of eyes staring into yours, in fact, no one is around you at all. There is no colour palette from which you can pick a colour, the only colour palette is that of the scenery. Just a stereotypical scene surrounds you: green grass, white daisies, and a very dark rain-filled sky.

It's going to rain, and it's a shame that you have to find out the second it's too late. Little droplets rapidly leak from the dark clouds, not enough to get you soaked, but enough to make you realise it was time to leave. You get up from under the tree, setting off in a fast walking pace as you leave the park. You don't run as you don't want to look like the fool who sat in the park whilst knowing it would rain, that embarrassing feeling is not something you want to give yourself. Whatever you were doing under a tree on a rainy Sunday evening is forgotten momentarily.

The world seems strangely different but one thing that stayed the same was the way to your apartment, and you're lucky it's only a ten-minute walk, nine if you continue to keep up the slightly faster walking pace. Though thanks to the weather, the walk seems a bit longer, but still only exactly nine minutes pass when you sprint up to the stairs towards the second floor.

You close the front door behind yourself once you're inside the apartment. The first thing you do is kick off the wet pair of Vans on your feet, you leave them in the middle of the hallway before stepping over them to get into your living room. You stare at the decorated living room, staying silent as there is no roommate you have to greet, which luckily allows you to glue yourself onto the sofa for the rest of the night. Dinner could have been made but you're not in the mood to make a mish-mash out of leftover ingredients.

For everything in life, there's a useful app, just like there's a useful app that you use to order your dinner with. Unfortunately, there's no such thing that gives you an explanation for your own weird actions like sitting underneath a tree for god knows how long. You pay for your dinner before throwing your phone aside, leaving social media to drown in its toxic nature.

You stand up from the sofa and head to the bathroom. You wash up by taking a quick shower, brush your teeth, do your overly extensive skincare routine even though you don't feel like it, and lastly change into your most comfortable nightwear. Right when you leave the bathroom and are about to settle yourself down on the sofa, the intercom stops you and tells you the food arrived. Luckily for you, you already paid and the delivery man is nice enough to drop off your food right in front of your door instead of two floors down.

"thank you!" you say extra loud so that the delivery man manages to hear you even when he's already on his way downstairs. You lift up the bag with food and instantly take it inside before any of your friendly neighbours come outside to have a healing talk. Once you close the door again, you decide that it's the moment to lock yourself in for the rest of the evening. A house party by yourself seems the perfect way to name what you're about to do: watch abandoned Netflix series while you occupy your sofa as a dining area.

You slowly start eating whilst Netflix provides you with entertainment. Yet, the series isn't interesting enough to keep you distracted from your thoughts, that or your thoughts are very determined to keep the subject alive. The view of two characters getting in a petty fight over money is replaced by the same view as earlier: the pair of cyan-coloured eyes that were staring into yours, followed by the sight of the tree you had been sitting under not long ago. There was something about the scene that seemed too important to forget as it constantly returned to your mind.

But why was it that you couldn't forget about it? Your eyes close as you give in to the thoughts before they consume your entire brain. It seems like a bunch of little white clouds start to form in your mind, each of them is filled with a tiny piece of information about the unforgettable encounter. Despite your confusion, you’re willing to make those little clouds pop in order to receive some new information. Firstly told was that you weren’t allowed to forget the tree or lose focus of it, another cloud tells you to remember the tree because it might not be there forever. The little clouds fill the blank spaces in your mind, but it’s not enough.

You indeed never saw the tree before, it is something you can conclude after you went on a train of memories. Before today, you had been in the park numerous times to situate objects and pieces of nature, it was a little bit too familiar to say that you had no idea whether you saw the tree before or not. A piece of your heart interrupts your thoughts, without words making your interest in the tree bigger with each second you thought about it. Perhaps you would listen to yourself and keep an eye out for the tree, just to check if you weren’t betraying yourself.

After sighing, you shake your head to yourself. “You’re going crazy,” you tell yourself in a whisper, taking the glass of water from the side and sip from it to wash away the stream of useless thoughts. Fortunately for the future, it’s a mission you would fail in. Unfortunately for you, the thoughts wouldn’t get washed away for quite a while.

⋅ ⋅ ⋅

7:05 am

You wake up with a jerk, immediately catching your breath as you came back from running a marathon. The faint voice in your mind disappears, leaving you alone in your dark bedroom. The distant sound of rain drumming against your window makes your eyes open, searching for the little patch of light in the darkness until your eyes are fixated on the window.

It must be raining outside and you must be in your room. Unlike a minute ago when you found yourself in the park once more, sat underneath the same tree as yesterday with the cyan-coloured eyes staring at you from a distance. Your tensed body falls back onto the bed in relief, you're happy to be in bed even though the urge to go to that specific spot is eating you from the inside. Slowly but surely you turn your body towards the window, eyes focused on the patch of light that shines through. The sky seems grey like it's grieving for the start of a new week, but you're just grateful that you're not completely consumed by the darkness in your room.

When you think about something so much, people would say that you're in love, but clearly, you can't be in love with a tree, can you? If it was up to you to explain your feelings towards the tree: it would be a mix of hatred due to the constant thoughts about it, but also fascination because of the unknown meaning behind it. It's no secret that by now, you actually start to believe you're either way delusional, or that faith is on your side but you're not sure why.

"Fuck it" you quietly tell yourself as you get your sore body out of bed, starting the day rather impulsively as you would have preferred to stay in bed for a little while longer. Your nightwear is ditched on the sheets as you almost shoot yourself into yesterday's outfit. There's a sauce stain from last night's dinner in the middle of your shirt, but the dried-up spot is something your eyes miss or don't even care about at this moment. It's too late to question what you're doing before you realise it, you've already left the bedroom.

Similar to other and more rushed mornings, breakfast is something you forget about, though now it seems like abandoning it willingly rather than just forgetting about it. You walk past the kitchen and directly into the hallway, exchanging your bare feet for the wet shoes you left in the middle of the path yesterday evening. It seems like you're rewinding yesterday's events even though this time, you sprint down the stairs instead of up.

The moment you walk out of the apartment complex, you can feel the little droplets of rain layering onto your hair, it's like taking a shower first thing in the early morning. The feeling is annoying and it could lead to you getting sick, but you don't think of the consequences, neither are you caring about them right now. The sprint turns into a fast walking pace as you're greeted by a still calm street. Luckily at this hour, there aren't many people around, and if they are then they're in a rush to get to work.

Your feet speed up lightly as the urge to get to the park grows only bigger knowing you're only ten minutes away from the place. You walk further towards the park even though it's hard to keep yourself from going past the walking pace, luckily you're just very determined to keep your bit of dignity. Ten minutes isn't that much in reality, even if it takes up one of the six parts in an hour and one of the three parts in half an hour.

When the park comes into view, you opt to ignore the presence of a few early birds that jog towards the park, just like them you start jogging. The remaining minute turns into a matter of seconds as you run through the unofficial entrance and straight towards the tree that you feel captivated by. You don't care that you're running over the grass rather than the ground, it's not like the bit of dew could make you slip.

Your feet come to an abrupt halt once you're close enough to the tree, only taking smaller steps towards the piece of nature until it seems like the tree could engulf you in its branches. You greet the tree with a smile, unaware of your own little gesture. With the bit of distance between you and the tree, you reach out your hand to touch the trunk. "What makes you so special?" you ask quietly, it's more like a rhetorical question as you feel like you have to find out the answer for yourself.

Your hand pulls itself away with a slight sigh, the calmness spreading through your body after a second of contact between you and the tree. You turn your body and get into the same position as yesterday, your back pressed against the trunk while you look at the scenery. The spot that you claimed allows you to stay out of the rain, the branches and twigs catching a couple of droplets before they can get to you. It takes a minute for you to settle down in that spot, but once you do, it's like you're sitting in the perfect spot.

The view you have from this spot is amazing, especially seeing people rushing in their lives while you're sat under a tree that gives a protective vibe. But you're aware that you must be sitting here with a goal, and you have no idea what that goal could be. You cock your head to the side, allowing your eyes to check the little flowers that you find yourself in between like you ruined their little get-together.

Five little daisies proudly standing amongst other big trees and plain green grass, their two simple colours stand out compared to the other naturistic elements around you. It were the kind of flowers you would make a flower crown with when you were still a child and the flowers you could use to determine whether your crush really loved you. Not that you did that many times as you were too realistic, or at least that's what you thought about your years as a child.

A tingling feeling spreads itself starting from your wrist and all the way towards the ends of your fingertips. You break eye-contact with the white-yellow coloured flowers and use your eyes to inspect the palm of your hand. But, you don’t see anything more than just a simple hand quivering to the unexpected intensity of the tingles. Your fingers clench themselves until they’re hidden in your fist, pressuring the tingles to go numb. 

The set of strange events make you close your eyes to ponder, trying to ignore the reality to just silently wonder about them without having to go through the experience once more. Yet, the moment you close your eyes you seem lost in one of those events, one that you’re encountering for the second time. The Cyan-coloured eyes stare into yours eyes, a determined and yet comforting look that make you feel responsible over something you’re not aware of. “Ecru? That’s a fantastic choice, darling. Your world is now colourized ecru” the voice says in a soft tone. The voice seemingly fits the fawn colour that you can imagine when saying ecru. Your mouth opens to speak, but before you can push one word out, the pair of eyes are gone. 

Once again, you're left in the park with your eyes closed and your hands empty just like they were yesterday. Only this time, the world had changed, or perhaps it had before but you were too dumb to realise.

The world is now colourized ecru

「 ꜱɴᴏᴡ : # ꜰꜰꜰᴀꜰᴀ 」

"Your world is colourized what?" Sicheng asks you, making it clear you had to clarify the story for the third time today. His eyes glance over at you like it would make him understand the words a little bit better. You would have sighed if it wasn’t for the fact that you would do the exact same thing if he told you a similar story. You wouldn’t have understood either, perhaps you wouldn’t even bother believing it.

Getting the words on the tip of your tongue again, only takes up a few seconds, you could repeat them whenever you wanted and your head provided you with the same voice as the person that told you.”Your world is now colourized ecru” you repeat again, this time saying the words slower since the language gap could make it harder for him to understand what ecru meant, even though it isn’t language-related as you had to google the colour too. “The voice told me that” you add, explaining more than needed just so that Sicheng could understand and believe your story.

“Colourized ecru, isn’t that like the beige colour?” Sicheng asks as his feet take slower steps just like his mind is processing the entire situation in a slow pace. To you, it is almost too slow, as being headed to the park became something you are weirdly enthusiastic for, or rather than that, you simply long to find yourself sitting underneath that tree. “I thought so too, but apparently it’s not. I saw a pinkish shade in it but Wikipedia said it was greyish-yellow. So I don’t know anymore” you answer his question, leaving your best friend even more confused now that he doesn’t know which colour your world really became.

The rest of the walk to the park is as blank as it was before, with Sicheng asking questions and you giving vague answers because Google wasn’t always as smart as you thought. Eventually, you realise that you would have to find a way to answer your own questions instead of letting Google do it for you. And aside from mental support, you’re sure that Sicheng can’t help you with answers either. 

“This is the tree,” you say as you walk underneath it with Sicheng, allowing him to sit first between the five daisies that he hadn’t even noticed yet. You sit down on the free space next to him, stopping the urge that your eyes get as you don’t want to close them while your best friend is around. “Do you know what kind of tree this is?” Sicheng asks you, his head raising to look at the branches, twigs and the leaves hanging from it. He fails to see the way you shook your head but already expected a no from you, or well, he had never seen your interest laying in the origins of a park tree.

Through his lensless glasses, Sicheng looks at you again. “Perhaps you should visit the library, they must have some books about trees,” he suggests, his head turning unexpectedly when his hand touches one of the five daisies hiding in the grass. Before you’re able to catch up with what happened, he quickly places his hand next to them instead of on top of them. “And flowers” he adds quickly, giving you an innocent smile.

"Did you ever play the loves me, loves me not game with daisies?" Sicheng asks as he motions to the little miracles of nature with his free hand, your eyes immediately go towards the flowers, something you almost instinctively do as you would stare at them each time you came here. “I didn’t, I wouldn’t know who would love me” you answer with a small shrug, still convinced that you never played those silly games during your childhood. The loves me, loves me not game was made up out of lies, a flower would never be able to tell you who you belonged with. “Your soulmate loves you.”

“My soulmate?” you ask as you hear the word soulmate go past Sicheng’s lips. The word isn’t unfamiliar, perhaps it’s a bit too familiar as there is a lot of doubt to the existence of soulmates in the world. Some claim soulmates are just for people who meet each other and symbolically label themselves like that, others say soulmates could meet each other in special circumstances, and there was a group of people that completely deny the existence of the phenomenon. You have no idea which group you belong to, neither do you know what Sicheng thinks about it. Never have you pondered about the possibility of meeting your other half. 

Sicheng hums in response to you, a tiny smile coating his lips as he reaches out to one of the flowers and disconnects it from its long stem. “You just go like this” Sicheng says as he ignores your soft protests against what he was doing, something felt wrong when he plucked the flower from its safe spot. “Loves me, loves me not” he says as he starts to demonstrate, leaving you to watch how he throws away something precious. It makes you feel emotional, with petal after petal falling to the grass after getting plucked from the yellow-coloured disk. Each of those petals seem to represent how close you are to having tears in your eyes. You felt sick with apprehension.

“Loves you not,” Sicheng says whilst the last petal sadly falls onto the green grass, laying scattered next to the other petals that he had plucked away. Just like you predicted seconds ago, tears are burning in the corners of your eyes, threatening to run down your cheeks, but you refuse, you don’t want to be the person to cry over a flower. “That means you’re not my soulmate and I’m not yours,” Sicheng simply says, whatever was left of the flower falling from his fingertips and ending between the few white petals. 

⋅ ⋅ ⋅

The feeling of melancholy continues to follow you everywhere after what had happened. It started as a small pit in your stomach the moment Sicheng first separated the flower from its natural habitat, but as the hours go by the pit only grows bigger and leaves you unable to feel a different emotion.

After Sicheng left you with an apology for possibly fucking up something you desperately needed in your life, you had found yourself grieving over the flower for two complete hours. Those hours go by with tenderly holding the remains between your aching fingertips, and telling yourself you had four flowers left that no one would pluck away from you. Yet, when you left the park, there was the fear that a stranger or child would pluck them for fun. You had been hesitant about leaving, but you couldn't stay with the flowers day and night.

That’s how you end up marching to the local library, following up the at least useful piece of advice Sicheng gave you. You were no longer angry at him, perhaps you even blamed yourself for not making it clear enough how important the flowers were to you, how they seemed to connect to you and the ecru world you found yourself in. Grateful for the suggestion he made earlier: from the suggestion about going to the library, to the suggestion of a so-called phenomenon called soulmates.

You had no idea what time it was when you found yourself in front of the library, neither did the sky really tell you much because you weren't looking up at it. Your eyes were too busy to make sure you didn't bump into any people or objects whilst your thoughts were working overtime. Your steps were quick as the stairs only counted a few of them before you were right in front of the wooden door. Something else you didn't notice were the opening hours hanging on the left, you would have been able to see it was a quarter past closing time when you arrived. Your fingers wrapped around the door handle, trying to pull it down in order to get the door open but the handle merely moved an inch before getting stuck in its position. "Shit"

The spark of hope you had was taken over by the large part of melancholy once again, you didn't even need the opening schedule to know that you probably were standing here because it was closed already. This was one of the reasons you had to make sure before getting hopeful for things, especially now that you were obligated to wait the entire night before you were able to possibly let your thoughts rest. You couldn't help but pull the handle down once more, or attempt to as this time too it had no intention of letting you in.

In the end, there was no other option but to go home for the night and be tortured by your strayed thoughts. The walk home being extra long due to your unnecessary stop at the park to check if the tree and flowers were still there, waiting for your return tomorrow. But perhaps that's not the only thing waiting for you, perhaps a soulmate is waiting somewhere as well. Waiting for you.

「 ʜᴏɴᴇʏᴅᴇᴡ : # ꜰ0ꜰꜰꜰ0 」 

For the third day in a row, you're already waiting in front of the library ten minutes before the building opens its doors. For the third day in a row, you manage to find a spark of hope somewhere inside of your body that tells you that today is the day that you will find something. But finding the right books is harder than expected: somehow writers don't really dive deeper into the wondrous world of soulmates and books about trees take ages to thumb through just to get to the right illustration of the tree. It's hard to find what you're looking for, especially as you have no idea what you're actually looking for.

But today you're determined to find anything the book is willing you tell you. You hope having a picture of the tree would make it easier to receive information, even if you have no idea if any of the people around are skilled in giving you the answer to which kind of tree it was: the books are supposed to give you the answers but how are you going to recognise your tree between many others? Something else that could help you were the daisies, you know the name but never imagined there to be a meaning behind them until you thought back about Sicheng sadly removing one from the world.

You’re shaken out of your thoughts when the door is unlocked and soon opened for the public, even though right now no one but you stood in the invisible queue. The feeling of victory is quick to spread through your body the moment you step inside, the high shelves don’t make you feel small, if anything, they give you more motivation.

“Good morning,” A voice speaks up without you realising it, you unfortunately ignore it because you’re too focused on finding the books you need for your progress. If you had heard it, you would have been able to tell how oddly familiar the voice was, and you could have linked it to the weird experience you had in the park. It was a missed chance, but more chances would come in the near future.

Your footsteps take you up the stairs where you had been going to for three days now, it became a part of your routine. Nature-related books were usually found upstairs as not many people were interested in the miracles of life these days. You admit that before, you were one of the people that took nature by granted, something that changed drastically in a short period of time. 

You sit at the empty desk near the corner, a popular space you know from experience, but as no one is there, it’s yours for the rest of the day. You’re quick to turn on the computer in order to check out the catalogue, a catalogue of which the books don’t change but each day you scroll past the same ones in hopes that a new one gets added. Your fingers hesitate over the keyboard, hitting a letter befoe deleting it again as you remember searching for the word yesterday. “Can I help you?”

You look away from the computer screen when you hear the voice, a fake, friendly smile appearing on your lips as you get ready to give a fabricated response. “Not really I don’t know what I’m looking for but I don’t think you can help me,” you tell the person in front of you, giving her only a brief glance which makes you seem uninterested. “Perhaps I can help you, you can tell me what you’re looking for and I will help you with finding the right books” she offers you. Out of annoyance, you hand the person the little, coloured post-it note with the keywords on.

“Tree, daisies, and soulmates” The voice reads the keywords on your paper out loud, her words flow out like she’s familiar with them. Your handwriting must be near enough to read it without trouble. “Yes,” you mumble in response, already knowing the words by head so there was no need for anyone else to say the words like the woman just did. Okay, perhaps it had been a rude thought of you and it was uncalled for, but you’re convinced that no one is able to help you and you weren’t willing to waste time on someone who wanted to try. “What kind of tree are you looking for?” she asks you but before you can answer, she interrupts you again “do you have a picture or a name?”

You hastily fish your phone out of the pocket of your pants, after unlocking it going straight to the gallery to find the set of pictures that you made yesterday. All of the pictures look overly similar, but having multiple pictures gives you more proof. “Ah, I think I know what tree it is” she says when she gets a glance of your phone, or rather, the picture of the tree. “This is the Quercus dentata, or daimyo oak if I’m correct. I can find some books about this tree for you?” she inquires after blowing you over with the difficult name and her cleverness to recognise the tree immediately. She hands you the note back even though you immediately discard it beside the computer keyboard.

“I don’t know, I don’t know what I need” you admit to her, slowly turning in your chair to properly tell what was going on. The last thing you want is spilling the story to anyone gullible and willing to listen, but there is a sense of trust between the two of you. Indeed, you don’t know what you need and one of the reasons that you’re here is to find out what you need and why you need it. “You don’t know what you need?” She asks you, but still smiles as she says the words, she seems like she knows more and she’s about to share it with you. You shake your head, an almost desperate gesture as you want help even from a librarian who perhaps had no idea how to help you. “Seeing the keywords on your note, I would say you’re here lurking for information about something specific that overcame you. And you must be looking for an explanation because the tree, the flowers, and the soulmate part all seem to blend together?”

Having someone next to you, saying the words from a perspective that was unfamiliar to you, it was like one of your millions of questions just got an answer. The answer was so easy, perhaps because the question was a simple one too. “Is that true?” she decided to ask because the look in your eyes revealed how surprised you were by the words. You slowly look up at her face, promptly staring into the pair of bright-coloured eyes. The unnatural cyan-colour rings a bell in your mind, and it only takes a second to remember the times you had seen the eyes before. “Y-yes, I think so” you respond in a softer tone, barely getting any words out of your mouth because of the shock that numbs your ability to speak or think. 

The elderly woman can only nod at your words, something you don’t see as you are too busy staring at everything but her face. Right now, you’re looking at the name tag pinned to her shirt. It shouldn’t be a surprise to see her name, but yet, “Cyan” is typed down in a Verdana-lookalike on the tag. The numb feeling completely takes away your ability to speak, or you’re just speechless at this point. A couple of days ago there was nothing, then the tree came in your life, and now you feel as if you’re close to figuring out the ecru world you live in. Yet, you don’t have half of it figured out, barely a quarter. 

"So, can you help me?” You ask out loud, your posture straightening more unknowingly. You expect a no but still hope for a yes, and you can’t tell beforehand which one of the two it’s going to be. Cyan -if that’s what her name really is- seems to hesitate, her eyes simply staring at you with an emotion that you can’t name. “I’m not sure, I already helped you to realise what you’re looking for” your shoulders immediately slump back against the wooden chair, a sigh slipping from your lips as you try to admit this was exactly what you expected even when it wasn’t.

You nod sadly as your eyes leave her to focus on the computer screen again, this time you know what to type in the search bar but you feel too unmotivated to make it through on your own. “Thank you anyway” you say soft as you give her one last glance, your eyes almost begging for her to stay so that she would give you more information. You’re convinced that this Cyan, is the same Cyan that brought you in this strange ecru-coloured world. It’s something you can’t accuse her of, but deep inside you know that you’re right about them being the same person: some people that you come across in your dreams, are real people, just like Cyan.

"You're welcome, don't let it get plucked away from you, you will find out"

⋅ ⋅ ⋅

Exactly fifty-nine minutes before closing time, you still find yourself in the same spot in front of the computer, though this time, the screen is pure black and your eyes are scanning every few words in the book laying on the dark table. 

The work that you’re doing now isn’t ever going to meet up with any work you used to do for school, this took a lot more energy but at the same time, you feel more useful and smarter than the times you would make a paper about concentration because it was easy to copy from others. When the teacher back then said that making the paper had seemed to help you a lot with your skills, you were sure that you were good at faking such things. But if there was a teacher to evaluate you now, you wouldn’t even have to fake anything.

Thanks to Cyan you got onto the right path, or at least you are trying to convince yourself that you are walking on the right path. The pieces of evidence next to you give you a good feeling, it seems like literature is more important than you used to believe, especially the pages where little post-its are pasted between to look back on. However, you don’t seem to realise there is no more time to look back on any of those things, you had been so caught up in the available literature that you forgot about the standard needs of a human or the opening hours of the library.

You flip the page of the book as quick as you can once you read the last few words of the sentence, another soft sigh leaves your lips as you realise this book about daisies isn’t going to get you far. Perhaps there was a limit to the amount of information people could receive in a day, but at this point, you’re convinced that you’re way past that limit. Your eyes meet with a new chapter, the boldly-typed title staring at you but you’re too busy translating the words from their original language into English, even if the English words are written a dozen times over the upcoming paragraphs. 

effeuiller la marguerite

Quietly and almost inaudible, you translate the words for yourself. When you say them in French, it doesn’t ring a bell despite the little knowledge you have of the language. When you repeat the same words in English, you instantly think back about the day you and Sicheng spent in the park. The way he used one of the precious daisies to demonstrate how you were supposed to play the simple, but childish game of “loves me, loves me not.” You could still taste some bitterness of the moment on the tip of your tongue, a consequence of Sicheng unintentionally ruining the flower. 

The first paragraph provides you with a definition of the game, something perhaps not useful even though school always taught you the definition before anything deeper. Even if the context was the more important part, you still needed some framework to understand.

“She loves me, she loves me not or he loves me, he loves me not is a game of French origin, in which one person seeks to determine whether the object of affection returns that affection.” The words are literal, perhaps a bit formal but not in a university-level. It gives you the hint that you are the person looking for an object of affection in this ecru world. It is you, you that has to search for the other person, for a he, she or them that would possibly love you, or not.

“How does it work really?” you ask yourself silently as you read past some French paragraph that you don’t feel attracted by, it seems like the next paragraph nicely explains how you’re supposed to play. It’s quite silly to think of it, you exactly know how to play the game, but don’t believe yourself and go for an unscientific instruction in a book about daisies. “A person playing the game alternately speaks the phrases "He loves me," and "He loves me not," while picking one petal off an ox-eye daisy for each phrase. The phrase they speak on picking off the last petal supposedly represents the truth between the object of their affection loving them or not. The player typically is motivated by attraction to the person they are speaking of while reciting the phrases. They may seek to reaffirm a pre-existing belief, or act out of whimsy" you read in a whisper-tone, sometimes stumbling over your own words because of the stiff and formal use of words. However, the moment you look back at the words, they don’t seem as formal and stuff anymore, they make sense in some way.

The chapter is no longer than two pages long, yet those two pages had managed to provide you with a lot more information than other chapters did. Added to your story were now the flowers that fit right in the framework Cyan made for you, it’s like being one step closer to knowing what you’re supposed to do. A sad hunch overcomes you as you finish the chapter: there are only four daisies left, four daisies that you can’t recklessly use to play the game. You need to find the matching object of affection.

Your hand pulls back the thick side of the book against the other to close it, resting it on top of the other books that you had been browsing through today. For a second, you allow your eyes to close as they’re exhausted from the endless focus, yet it didn’t mean you were going to give up. On a different pile were two books left: one of them is filled with more information about trees, the other is a magazine that has an article about soulmates. Unfortunately, that article is the only copy that has the words “soulmates” in them, meaning that no other existing source was available to you.

“Sorry to bother you, but it’s closing time. And I think you really need some rest, love” Cyan who had helped you so dearly before was now about to ruin part of the progress you made, or she was trying to help you by giving you an opportunity to go home and rest. Though, you opt it’s the first option as you feel too far into it to stop. Perhaps Cyan wasn’t aware yet, but she would find out soon that you came here on a daily basis ever since three days ago. “Can’t I stay for a little while longer, just until you closed up. I need to read some more” you say in a soft tone as you motion towards the two sources that still have to get scanned by your inexperienced eyes and mind.

Cyan takes the magazine from the pile, reading the word “soulmates” on the cover and immediately she knows which magazine it is. It’s one that most beginners want to read, but at the same time, it’s the most useless piece of literature in the entire library. Yet, it seems like you’re willing to read the public source as they don’t have any others. “You can come back tomorrow, can’t you?” she asks simply, dropping the magazine back onto the pile before looking at you to scan your facial expression. The emotion displayed on your face is mostly desperation: it makes Cyan want to give in, but the tiredness in your eyes is what holds Cyan back from telling you to stay until she closed up. It wasn’t like the article was helpful and you would regret staying longer just to read it. 

"Come with me"

⋅ ⋅ ⋅

Cyan paves the way to a place you had never witnessed in the few years of regularly visiting the library - not that you visit overly often, or at least not before the entire ecru-world circumstance - , but you are positive that this hall was one of the places you had never walked through.

Walking there takes long enough, long enough to forget that you left most of your stuff on the desk in the corner. A vague idea tells you that you’re going underground: mostly because you had been taking many steps down rather than up, and also because of the musty smell that is sticking onto the walls surrounding you. Cellars always look old but you’re willing to have a debate over this cellar being older than a few centuries. 

You want to ask Cyan how long there was left and how many more steps in the staircase, you have no idea where you’re headed and the eerie feeling seems to double itself with each step further. You stop yourself from asking though: you don’t consider yourself as a six-year-old who continuously asks his parents when the car ride is finally over. You purse your lips as you hold the question even if that means you have to breathe through your nose.

“We’re here” Cyan announces after coming to a halt in front of a large iron door. The door is large enough to let a giant pass if it’s not for the obvious fact that it’s closed. Your own steps stop as well, aligning perfectly next to Cyan’s. From up close, the door is heavily decorated by different elegant shapes. Yet, there’s no keyhole that indicates the requirement of the longitudinal grooves. The door is a masterpiece, it seems like it belongs in a museum more than as an actual door underground. “Won’t you open it?” you ask Cyan quietly, only tearing your eyes from the door to see when Cyan would open the door. 

Cyan’s first response is to shake her head as a sign that she’s not going to open the door for you, in response to that, you let out a huff of annoyance and disappointment. How are you supposed to get in when the librarian doesn’t even want to open the goddamn door for you, it’s not like you know a secret way through. “You have to open it, darling,” Cyan says when she notices that you’re not amused, by far, you look irritated. 

“How am I supposed to do that?!” You ask loudly, drawing a long sigh from your mouth as it was another feature that you weren’t prepared for. You set another step closer to the door, not looking back at Cyan because you don’t care if she follows you or not. You’re not a magician like your friend Kun is, you’re clumsy and still didn’t figure out how to do the magic trick with the glasses that he always shows you. “Hocus pocus!” Leaves your lips before you can stop it from happening, whether it is for the laughs or for the deadly-serious expression on your lips, it doesn’t matter as the door doesn’t bother to react.

The string of magic spells leaves your lips, at once, calling out each one you know and unmagically cast them onto the iron door. Yet, none of them have the intention to pull the handle down and open the door for you. Cyan can’t be any more amused, but she is aware that you would still be here for hours if she leaves you to cast these spells. “Opening the door is like opening a new world for yourself,” Cyan tells you in a quiet voice, just loud enough to overpower your voice that casts the last spell you know. The hint is amateur level, even you find the answer within a minute. 

You swallow away the bundle of nerves that want to spread in your stomach. What you are about to say can, either way, be foolery or the start of something unidentified. Just like Cyan mentioned, opening the door is like opening a new world, and you are ready to be a part of it. 

"Ecru"

「 ᴀᴢᴜʀᴇ  : # ꜰ0ꜰꜰꜰꜰ 」

When you wake up from accidentally falling asleep with your head buried between a formal-worded book, you hear the large doors closing themselves slowly, and you guess you must have missed the moment they opened due to your tiredness. The non-rhythmic footsteps are unrecognisable but there must be only one person that has unlimited access to this place, Cyan. Your guess is confirmed when you hear her voice telling you: "you look tired.”

“I’ve been looking through these books for nearly three hours” you answer with a deep sigh leaving your lips, your fingertip tiredly points to the large pile of books of which you only managed to read one in those three long hours. But that one book is enough to make it seem like you read everything in this entire underground library. 

Cyan let out a quiet hum at your words, stepping closer to you with the same unstable sound of her footsteps on the floor. “That’s why I decided to get some coffee for you, you slept for over an hour,” she says in a sweet tone as the cup of coffee is delivered to the moon-shaped table you sit at. A small smile coats your lips thanks to Cyan’s sweet gesture, and you know your non-verbal message has been delivered when she smiles back at you. Every now and then she would deliver coffee to you, you didn’t even ask for it, she would disappear at random times and return with a cup of coffee for you. Your inner coffee addict was happy with that.

"Did you find out anything new?” Cyan asks as she has her eyes on you and one hand placed on the pile of books like she’s trying to suck the magic out of them. That thought is one you dismiss soon, you can expect a lot but that beats all of the other ridiculous thoughts you had. You reluctantly shake your head in response, hesitating because you had found many amazing things but you doubted if they were useful. “I guess so, but at the same time, I don’t think so. I don’t understand any of the words in the book” you admit, your eyes still reading over some of the words.

The book gets pulled from under your elbows by Cyan who takes it between her two hands as she begins to read at the point where you left off before falling asleep. “You’re reading the wrong book. I told you to follow your heart and choose a book based on that, not on an interesting title” she immediately scolds you for choosing what you did, she read less than a sentence but it’s enough for her to know that this book isn’t going to give you the answers you need.

"I don’t know how to, it’s harder than you think” you complain with a deep sigh, putting the cup of coffee down on the porcelain saucer before looking up at the elder librarian. “How am I supposed to know what my heart wants?” you ask, the question sounding both genuine but also mocking. You don’t believe in letting your heart decide which book to take, if it was true, you would be reading an easy and understandable book that wasn’t part of this underground library’s catalogue. 

Cyan closes the book and can’t help but sigh just like you did a second ago, she sounds disappointed even if she doesn’t use any words to confirm the feeling. It’s not an uncommon thing for people to choose the wrong book, everyone at least does so one time, especially when they judge by the cover. But after years of sneakily doing this, Cyan had a steady set of expectations from humanity, especially those looking for a soulmate. 

“y/n. Think about your soulmate, close your eyes and let your soulmate pick the book for you. Listen to your heart, it’s commissioned by your soulmate” Cyan says in an overly sweet and soft tone, dropping the thick book on top of the others as a sign all of them were useless in your story. You admire her for the way she says the words because you wish it’s as easy as it sounds, but, you hate the words because it’s not as easy as that. How is your soulmate going to recommend you a book if he doesn’t even know about your existence? 

Your phone vibrates steadily next to the pile of useless books, even though the moon-shaped table is in front of you, you huff because you are too lazy to lean forward and take the device in your hands. For an unknown reason, you flag your phone as an unnecessary accessory down here: there is no WiFi and you don’t expect anything from the phone reception. But clearly, your phones proves you wrong when it vibrates a second time. 

You lean forward and pick up the phone from the book-filled desk, finally giving it some screentime and giving yourself some ‘me-time’ as you would always name it. The lockscreen gives away the time, but you only have eyes for the notification of your best friend Sicheng. You feel bothered that he messages you, it wouldn’t be bothering if you weren’t in this almost-enchanting library.

Sicheng [ 2 : 35 pm ] : I found some more daisies around, plucked them and they're in front of your door

Sicheng [2 : 35 pm ] : sorry for wasting one the other day, I didn't know they would mean so much to you ):)

You can't help but smile soft, a certain feeling of warmth spreading through your tiniest veins and dropping once they reach your heart. It's obvious that Sicheng feels sorry for what he did to the daisy, and he must think that you’re not answering the door because of that.

It is a fact that you hadn’t been speaking to him since the day in the park, not because you were angry -as you weren’t -, but because you isolated yourself in the library after he advised you to. Sicheng was someone you couldn’t be angry at, he was soft but also because he had given you a little push onto an unknown path. You were still walking on the path he pushed you on, however, he isn’t walking on that same path and you feel bad about it. 

“Will you not write a message back to him, darling?” Cyan asks you as she notices the way you can only stare at the messages you received, and your fingers are resting on the edges of the screen rather than the keyboard that is waiting for you to send a message back. Your eyes stay on the screen, they never break eye-contact from the messages, not even when Cyan asks your attention by questioning you. “He doesn’t know I’m here. I think he thinks I’m angry because he took one of the daisies and showed me how to play the game” you explain to Cyan. She can see your facial expression growing bluer as you think about it. 

“But you’re not angry. So make him bloom again, his smile is precious to the world” Cyan says before you can continue telling the story with even more details, she is aware of the things that happen but still listens when you tell her the story about the little daisy. 

y/n [ 2 : 39 pm ] : just as much as you mean to me, you're a precious bean x

⋅ ⋅ ⋅

Apparently, and without warning, you're not the only soulmate-searching human in the world. The first time you realise it's simply because Cyan decides to tell you one minute before a girl that's also looking for her soulmate walks in, the time after you notice it's before the iron-grated door opens itself after receiving the name of a chosen colour. You're never facing the door but you're still able to hear how many different voices there are and how many times the door opened itself.

Three free moon-shaped tables are moving away from the centre of the library, each one getting closer to one of the bookshelves but simply so that everyone has bits of privacy in the process of finding their soulmate. Your table was right in front of a bookshelf already: probably because Cyan thought it was needed for a beginner to receive lots of written knowledge.

Among the variety of people around in the underground library, no one looks familiar to you. You don't meet eyes with them but you can put the blame on the fact that their noses are buried between antiquated books. Even those who are already familiar with one another, don't waste more time than the few seconds a small greeting takes up, simply because they're too disciplined. It makes you feel awkward, as you're too new to step up and introduce yourself to the hardworking set of people.

Silence fills the room to the brim, leaving only the furniture to take up the rest of the space. The only sound you hear is quiet breathing and when a slightly moist fingertip tries to turn the page of one of the books. Whilst everyone is busy with the literate, you are not. The books on your table are shut, still labelled as useless ever since Cyan said that they had no value in your story. But you can't bring yourself to figure out which one your heart wants, or which one your soulmate would recommend to you. Cyan probably was right, but that doesn't tell you how you should find the answer to the question, nor how to find the right book.

You stand up from the decorative stool, trying not to make any noises which you succeed in as you can easily slip off the piece of furniture. You let go of a breath that you had been holding in but it's even quieter than your footsteps as they approach the nearest bookshelf. It's only a few steps before your feet come to a halt in front of it and your eyes take over to complete the next task.

Your eyes stare at all of the books that you find yourself in front of, it's a lot to take in with all of the different colours and letters coming to you at once. Unknown writers and complicated book titles, but as Cyan said, you try not to judge the book by who wrote it or how interesting the title sounds. Society just got you adapted to thinking difficult was always the right choice when it came to literature.

It's like you're standing at an intersection of choices, but there are more than four choices, and perhaps there's only one right option amongst the hundreds of possibilities. Fortunately for you, you can't see how insecure your back looks from this angle: others see the way your shoulders carry a responsibility but they also remember how they had been at the exact same spot not long ago.

"You don't know which book to take?" A voice asks you, the male voice making you spin on your heels immediately just to politely face whoever was speaking to you. The man in front of you has a sweet smile on his lips, you immediately notice that once you look up to his face. The sweet smile tries to indicate that he's being friendly but also gives away that he's happy. You can't help but wonder if he's close to finding his soulmate.

You sigh softly, a monologue that you have been participating in a lot more these past days. Sometimes you sigh because you're frustrated by this endless hunt for answers, other times it's because you feel like you should give up and move on, and other times you do it because you just don't know. The thing you don't know is also hidden behind something you don't know, even though that doesn't really make sense to you. "No, I can't seem to figure out which book is mine" you answer honestly.

"That's totally fine, we all started at this point,"  He tells you, never stopping the smile from hovering over his lips. You realise that maybe out of experience, he's willing to help you more than Cyan is, or at least his advice could help you more than Cyan's vague instructions. "You indeed have to let your soulmate pick the book for you, but there's a catch to it all. The things you think you've researched outside of this library are the things you have to research here again. You're not looking for what a soulmate is, but who your soulmate is."

You're obligated to admit, the words make you think more clearly than Cyan's do. Cyan's words leave you to sleepless nights of wondering what they mean, the words of this man make you think twice and you already know what’s expected of you. Specifically, the last bit of words are what stick to your body and follow you behind even now that you're still standing in front of him.

You're not looking for what a soulmate is, but who your soulmate is.

"There's no right or wrong definition to soulmates, everyone describes it differently. But you have to focus on the things you experienced and find the meaning behind them, after that you can connect them to your special person" He says, the explanation seems never-ending but you willingly accept every single word that leaves his lips right now. The scowl from earlier turns into a grateful smile, you are genuine about the gesture as you feel helped by what he offered you. "Thank you…" you say to him, hesitating to end your sentence as you wish you are able to say the name, but you can't say things you don't know of.

He lets out a tiny laugh as he realises he had been stupid enough to help you before asking whether you need it, and without politely introducing himself, but he's used to helping everyone here now that he's so close to meeting his soulmate. "I'm Johnny, the one who usually helps others around here" He introduces himself, clearly it's not the first time that he does this but you had already figured that out the moment he gave you some useful advice. "I'm y/n, I guess I'm new here. Almost like a high school student on the first day of the first year."

Johnny can't help but let out a soft laugh at the latter part of your introduction, simply because he said something along the lines of that back when he was the youngest of the group here. In a matter of months or even weeks, that position drastically changed. "Everyone is like that at the start, but some new people will join sooner or later. Before you know it, you will be helping them as I helped you."

The words - just like before - stick onto your brain, luckily not onto your heart like his other set of words did. You break the eye-contact with him to instead stare at the many books waiting on the shelves, hoping that magically your soulmate would make one of them fall in the palm of your hand. But it's not as simple as that: your soulmate won't connect the dots for you, it's you who has to do that and your soulmate might create a shape out of it.

With a soft sigh, your eyes flutter themselves shut to get into a moment of peace. It's the scenery of the park that always does the trick for you: it's calming despite knowing there is a life-altering meaning behind it. The tree engulfs you between its branches, and you're safe under the oak with the daisies by your side. The daisies where the book showed you a ritual named "effeuiller la marguerite" of. But it's the tree that keeps you from harm, that invites you to come back over and over again.

It takes a few seconds to remember the scientific classification Cyan gave you, as she probably read it in the same book that you read on that day. Nonetheless, the Quercus dentata unconsciously became a part of the baseline information of which you thought you had it organised. But Johnny was right: you had to focus on things you experienced.

The daimyo oak that engulfs you in its branches seems to want to tell you something, it's an enchanting moment even though it's only a daydream that you find yourself getting lost in. The information that it gives you is purely its existence, yet it's linked to the existence of your soulmate too.

You tilt your head as you have the impression that someone is walking up to you with slow steps, yet it's like that because your heart tells you to live in the moment. The footsteps don't look like Cyan's unstable pace of steps, and on top of that, it's more like a manly figure which you notice by his legs and shoes. It's vague but the individual details will together give you a clear view, layer per layer.

Despite the fact that you're aware it's not Cyan walking up to you, you can't imagine someone else doing so and you have no other option but already think of the outstanding features that strike the starring role in your daydreams. You start to get twitchy with each step the person takes closer to you: it's an eerie feeling that you don't know what to think of. It's a daydream that you're living in, but it all seems a bit too real to be just a dream during the early hours of the evening.

In your daydream, you close your eyes, in hopes that when you open them, you won't be able to see anything but the peaceful scenery around you. Yet, luck isn't always by your side and for once, that's a good thing. You open your eyes and immediately met up with a pair of soft-sentimental-looking eyes. They're brown, in a shade that could be defined by the world's most cherished colour of brown.

"You coloured my heart ecru"

「 ɢʜᴏꜱᴛᴡʜɪᴛᴇ # ꜰ8ꜰ8ꜰꜰ 」

Blank-faced, you look up from the syllables that form a term together, your eyes are slow to react to the sound that triggers your other senses easily. The iron door creaks open as slow as your eyes focus on it, but you're quick to give up the hope that you're going to be the only one in the library tonight. Cyan's voice is quiet but still gets louder with every step she takes inside the library, symbolically taking the young man under her protective wings as he walks into the library after her.

The thick book closes as your elbow moves from between the two separated parts, but it goes unnoticed as your eyes are drawn to Cyan's new -victim- soulmate. A rare warmth spreads around the room and circles him like it's his aura presenting him, he's the young lad your existence softens for.

"I assume this is the library you've been looking for" Cyan announces to the stranger as she smiles at his sudden humbleness. His hands fold together politely as his feet are tightly pressed together to only take up one tile out of the hundreds that embrace him. "A little disclaimer before the library overwhelms you with useless information: pluck the book your heart chooses for you, it's commissioned by your soulmate."

You can see the expression change on his face, there's a universal set of facial expressions of emotion, and surprise seems to be one of the six universal possibilities right now. He doesn't show any of the critical signals aside from the arch that his eyebrows form into. "How do they tell me which book?" He asks once the surprise makes space for an emotion that you can't read so well.

"It just happens, Jungwoo. It might take some time but they will naturally come to you"

With the useless piece of advice, Cyan decides she has given him enough to leave him to his task. She walks away from the new test-subject and moves to a set of books that the others left behind a few hours ago. You can still recognise the cover of the book that Johnny had been reading earlier, and the book Ley read about life after meeting your soulmate. The two of them were awfully close to meeting their soulmates, with Johnny already knowing what the name of his soulmate was. Unlike you: you only possessed of the birth date of your soulmate.

When Cyan's footsteps are the only ones you can hear, your head slightly turns to the side to see around the room and catch the stranger standing on the same tile as before. He seems glued to the tile, the tips of his Nike-branded shoes rub over one another in an attempt to soothe himself, but it only shows how unfamiliar he is with the situation. You can't blame him, you had been like that too not long ago.

"You should sit if you want to" you break the uncomfortable, nearly timed, sound of Cyan's footsteps against the floor. The sound moves to a layer in the background as your voice is now the centre of attention combined with the presence of the young man.

You don't expect an answer to your words as it was a mere offer. But the silence makes your voice fade out instantaneously. One layer less, another chance for silence to fill the room like it did when you were sitting here alone. The stranger can only nod in response, clearly feeling shy when his feet shuffle to the moon-shaped table that is diagonal of yours. He quietly lowers his body and takes a seat on the low stool.

Unfortunately for the stranger, you don't have a lot of time to make him feel at ease in the library. It's self-discipline, something you badly need when you're isolated in this place for almost ten hours and that six days a week. There's more than enough work to do, and much like exams, distractions only cause more harm than help.

Your book is still closed on your desk, a result of getting distraught by Cyan and the stranger bursting into the library not long ago. Soon you notice what happened to your book and let out a tiny curse to yourself, your hands working quickly to open the book again. It's a hard task to find the exact page you left off at: any page between the numbers two hundred nineteen and six hundred eighty would be the one you read last. You know you're to blame for this, not Cyan, not the newbie. More discipline wouldn't be a bad idea.

Your fingertips tumble over each page hastily, starting at page two hundred nineteen to continue browsing over every page that follows after that. If you see the word you read last, you know which page it is, but to do that, you still have to turn each page until your eyes encounter the word. Now that you think of it, you don't even remember which word it was, but hope to retrieve it soon.

On the other side of the library, there are ten fingertips that aren't actively browsing from page to page in a book. Rather than browsing in a book, they're tapping onto the moon-shaped table continuously. It's a composition of instrumentless and voiceless music, a song you never heard, but you don't prefer having to hear it twice.

"I'm sorry but can you stop? I'm trying to focus" you announce in a questioning way, not losing the politeness in your voice as it almost sounds like it's only an option for him to quit. Luckily, he does as you expect of him, causing his fingers to tremble from the sudden lack of stress-relief. "Sorry," he says in a soft tone, sending an apologetic smile your way but the innocence in his voice already causes you to forgive him. "I guess I was trying to call out to my soulmate or something," he says, not holding back the snippet of laughter that nervously bubbles from his lips.

You don't know why your lips curve up into a smile at his lame joke, perhaps because it's amusing to see someone being nervous about being here. Now you now why Cyan works in this library, she can laugh at people's stupidity on a daily basis. You still remember how entertained she was when you said numerous spells to the door when you only had to say the colour you picked out to open the door.

"It's okay" you say back to him and smile, but you notice from the look on his face that he's filled to the brim with nerves. "You must be nervous" you suggest, giving him the opportunity to open up if that's what he needs right now. You, like no one else, are aware of the unfavourable feelings that the soulmate context brings along. After days, you still don't have a label to paste on the feelings from back then, simply because you still don't know what to feel now either. "I am. One of my friends already met his soulmate, and my parents are soulmates too. They suggested for me to visit this place as they said not everyone can find their soulmate randomly" he explains even if he doesn't state the reason why he's so nervous. Perhaps the pressure is the reason: pressured to find his special person because his friend did and his parents obviously did too.

You nod at his explanation, making sure he knows that you're listening, but you don't interrupt as you want to hear how he feels. His story reminds you of Sicheng who made you believe even more than you perhaps did before. Whether you were a believer or not, is something you don't remember because you simply didn't think about it that often. Perhaps you were a believer, or one of the more sceptical people, or you could have been a non-believer. Whatever you were, it didn't matter anymore, you are a believer now.

"My name is Jungwoo by the way," He says before you can respond to his explanation, he probably saw your facial expression as you were trying to form a correct answer and also didn't feel like telling you an uninteresting story of how he found out someone was his soulmate. To say it easily, the subject changed.

"I'm y/n"

⋅ ⋅ ⋅

It's twenty-five to eleven when you take the small steps to reach the street again, spinning on your heel to see Jungwoo sliding down the railing that separates the stairs evenly.

The sight makes you clasp your hand over your mouth in an attempt to silence the laugh that threatens to leave your lips. But only after you see Jungwoo losing his balance unexpectedly which causes his little playful moment to come to an end a little too soon. His feet stumble over the last two steps of the stairs before his body bumps against yours with full speed.

Not by speed, but by force, your body is dragged backwards and you almost hit the floor with a shocked Jungwoo in your arms. But before that happens, his fast reflexes are able to catch himself and you before the unfortunate event takes place. Yet, it doesn't stop the two pairs of feet from trying to find balance on the evenly divided ground.

"I'm sorry" Jungwoo immediately apologises as he makes sure your two feet can find balance without his arms holding you up, but the mere distance between your bodies causes his own feet to be unstable. It's a feeling he needs to shake off, his soulmate is somewhere waiting for him, and your soulmate must be waiting for you somewhere as well. "I was just trying to make you laugh, not fall"

"But I didn't fall, and I had a good laugh. Trust me, I had more fun in those seconds than in the past days" you admit easily to Jungwoo, it's the downside of being isolated in an underground library, but hopefully not a future consequence of looking for your soulmate. "Ah" is the only thing that slips past Jungwoo's lips at your response, it leaves both of you in a communal cloud of wondering what to say to not make it any more uneasy.

You simultaneously look into the same direction when a flower-shaped shadow seems to dwindle down from a large tree. "Did you see that?" You ask as confusion spreads over your face, your eyes torn between looking at Jungwoo or the shadow that slowly disappears once it hits the ground. The soft landing must have taken the silhouette to blend their shades into one.

"Sorry?" Jungwoo asks as he looks at you again, his head tilted to the left as he tries to find the reason behind your confusion. The beanie that refrains his hair from moving too much doesn't prevent his bangs from moving in the same direction as his head.

The reaction leaves you speechless and stumbling over your own words before you even say them, "the flower. A daisy just fell from that tree," you say as you point upwards to the large creation of nature. Jungwoo's eyes can't help but follow your fingers up to the leaves of the tree, he can't see the colour of them in the darkness, but daisies are absent in the almost-chromatic view.

"I don't see anything" he responds to your words as he tries to make his eyes work harder, but no matter how much he squints, the enlarged view shows a total lack of flowers in the tree, especially daisies.

Tiredness is clearly ruling a position as CEO while you're only a personal assistant for the feeling. "I'm tired, I bet it was something else or my eyes are just clowning around" you mumble in disappointment when you realise Jungwoo is right. When you look at the tree again, you don't see any daisies, and you become aware that daisies don't commonly fall from trees that aren't specific daisy trees.

"Sounds like you should go home" Jungwoo mumbles to you, letting a soft smile coat his lips and you're sure your clumsiness has been forgotten unless he's planning on teasing you with it for the upcoming time. It's something you see him capable of as earlier, he had a good laugh about a writer's odd name. But the soft smile that displays on his lips makes you trust him not to tease too much.

"I think I will" you confirm Jungwoo's suggestion, trying to give him a similar soft-looking smile in return, but you're too tired to control the muscles that make the gesture possible. Like a stereotypical teenager from a sappy romance, Jungwoo hides his large hands in his jeans pockets. "Will I see you tomorrow?"

Your response is a soft hum before you confirm it with your words. "I'm here every day, most of the day. So expect to see me a lot" you answer his question.

"I'll look forward to it" Jungwoo quickly tells you, the genuine tone in his voice refraining you from walking away without saying goodbye.

An hour later and you find yourself tucked in a thin sheet that is supposed to keep your body heat at a stable temperature for the rest of the night. Though, it's not the sheet that keeps your body at a pleasant temperature, but rather the little train of comforting thoughts that rides around in your mind.

From the little moments of laughter you shared with Jungwoo, to the sweet brown eyes of your soulmate that you continuously gaze into whenever you close your own.

It makes you feel warm inside

Your eyes - as they usually are when you're in bed - are closed as you want to go over all of the little big things of today. Yet, by now, you should know that it's a task you won't be able to fulfill.

While the colour is sometimes considered dull, the brown colour of his eyes seem to create other feelings. Feelings of warmth and wholesomeness as you gaze into them. The green palette of the park surrounds the two of you and you can feel the trunk of the Quercus dentata against your back.

"Don't pluck me daisies. Just make me be your flower"

「 ᴡʜɪᴛᴇꜱᴍᴏᴋᴇ # ꜰ5ꜰ5ꜰ5 」

"I don't understand what else I have to find out, Cyan" you breathe out as you drop the heavy-weighted book on top of some others that you had been scanning through for the past four and a half hours. Another two hundred seventy minutes wasted, and yes, wasted was the right word to use for all the time you spent in the library so far.

Cyan easily notices the high level of pressure, she already noticed when you first made your entrance of the day. "What do you mean by that?" She asks you as she tries to lift her body to sit on the side of the moon-shaped table but eventually just leans against it before accidents happen. "I already found out I have to play a game with the daisies, and my soulmate's birthday is February nineteen. What else do I have to find out?"

The way you say your words makes it easy for Cyan to see through them and bump into a big lump of exhaustion. It's a price many people pay but at the same time no one asked them to pay the fee, it's something people do to themselves because they're so desperate to claim someone to be theirs. You're no different from anyone when it comes to that, no one is any different. At least humans have one thing in common even though it doesn't make them less unique.

"Potentially, you could look for your soulmate"

A scowl coats your entire facial expression, your muscles doing work without you having to ask about it. You open your mouth to speak up but silence yourself from the string of curses and confusion that blend together to a feeling called bitterness.

"What?" You ask as you wish to get rid of your confusion, you swallow the curses you want to throw at her. You shouldn't curse at her, seeing that aside from her vague way of phrasing things, she's a blessing. The bitter feeling on the tip of your tongue is something you want to out but just like tastebuds, they stay in their place for you to enjoy the lingering bitterness a bit more. "You mean I've been here 24/7 for nothing?" you ask her, quick to hold her back because you receive a vague answer to your surprised exclaim, but even if this time your question is unmistakable, you still expect a similar answer.

"Darling," Cyan is about to continue but you hold up your hand in aim for her to stop. You know where her "darling" leads you in life. And that destination is non-existent.

Despite your tries to stop, she doesn't. "Listen to me y/n. You can go out and find your soulmate right now, no one ever told you to stay inside the library. If you know how to find your soulmate, go for it"

Now, that is something Cyan doesn't need to tell you twice. Instead of cursing at you, you now want to hug her tightly and press numerous pecks to her cheek to thank her. It's something you don't do though, but you could if you follow your current happy hunch.

It's the isolation that took a toll on your well-being and affected your way of coping with different emotions and situations. Before you entered this enchanted place, you were as sweet as a strawberry but now that you were allowed to leave, you walked out as a bitter cranberry that was kept in the fridge for one day too long.

"Are you serious?" You just want to hear her say the words once more, confirm that it was what she truly said before. You expect yourself to run out of the library within an instant, but your feet are attached to the tile as you wait for her to repeat the words once more.

She doesn't repeat the words once more, she simply nods and drifts off before you're able to stop her from doing so. Your eyes follow every movement she makes in the direction of another door and disappears behind it before you're able to see what is behind that door.

With your feet securely attached to the tiled-floor, you had no other option but to awkwardly stay still for at least sixty seconds. Your thoughts go blank at you look around the library.

Jungwoo is still sitting where he usually sits, his head buried between a book while his right hand is holding a pen in case he has to make notes. There is a white pair of earbuds in his ear so you assume or hope that he didn't hear the exclamations you made during the conversation with Cyan.

Generally, things aren't any more filled or less empty as they usually are. If anything misses, it's the presence of the other soulmate-searching humans. Today there's no Johnny, Ley, Isabelle, Donghyuck or any of the others that would usually be around at this hour of the day. You're aware they don't come every day, but you're so used to their presence filling up the ancient space even if they constantly read.

Your feet take you a step backwards, going towards the door to head outside. It's too early to celebrate that you can finally leave this antiquated hellhole because there's a hint of truth in Cyan's words, and you fear not being able to come back once you leave permanently.

"I'm going to go out for some air" you announce to no one in particular, it's not like anyone is available to you, but you still feel like telling so that Cyan and Jungwoo both know that you'll be back in a matter of minutes. You mean to see that Jungwoo nods, but realise soon that he's only bobbing his head along to a pop song.

You spin around and take the silence as an opportunity to leave for a few minutes, it doesn't have to be long, just some time to properly think and put everything on a non-organised timeline in your head. The iron door closes as you take your leave and follow the stairs up, right now they seem to lead to temporary freedom.

Once you're outside, it seems like you haven't seen the world in more than a year, even if it's been a matter of days, not even enough to make a sum that ends in enough days for a month. You have no idea what time it is until you look up at the sky and imagine this must be what the sky looks like when it's afternoon.

Your freedom only lasts for a minute, before you know it, you're claimed by whoever is making your phone vibrate in your back pocket. How did you even forget about the little device you used to be obsessed with?

Your hand slips in your pocket, clutching the phone between your parted fingertips before pulling it out of the pocket. It's only a matter of seconds before the phone is facing you with a bright screen, revealing that it's not just a text message but that someone is calling you.

Called ID is no other than your best friend Sicheng, and you waste no time in picking up the phone to hear what he has to say. You breathe into the speaker without realising that you do, already looking forward to hearing a voice other than Cyan's.

"y/n? Are you okay?" Sicheng asks, hiding a cough because he thinks he disturbed you in a heated moment, yet that's far from what is going on right now. "I am, sorry" you quickly say, regaining control over yourself to not pull such weird stunts once again. The last thing you want is Sicheng to think about your bed-activities.

"I've been trying to call you for the past two hours now, but it never went through" Sicheng breathes out himself but it's a sigh of relief that he finally gets to talk to you. He's not the type to call, so he must have been in a state of distress when he wasn't able to reach you. "I was busy, sorry" you apologise once more to him.

Sicheng sighs for the second time, it's another exhale of pure relief. "I have to talk to you, do you have time? It's important," he says before you're able to ask why he called you non-stop for the past two hours. You opt to nod but after a few seconds, realise that he can't see it. Normally he's next to you but now you're hearing his voice through the phone so he can't see you, and you can't see him.

"Of course, I have time" you answer Sicheng as you try to speak in a comforting tone, not aware of what Sicheng is about to say but it already sounds like it's something serious. "What is it?" you ask when your eyes don't pick up any response, no sound, nix.

"It's about the daisies"

You are all eyes and ears once he mentions the little flowers that have become so precious to you. Your eyes even glance to the spot where you thought you saw a daisy dwindling a couple of days ago, back when Jungwoo must have labelled you as lunatic.

"What about the daisies?" you ask back carefully, your hand fumbling with the edge of your shirt as your heartbeat picks up the pace. Through your veins spread nothing but fear, because deep in your heart you know exactly what happened to the white-coloured flowers.

"How long has it been since you were in the park?"

The question doesn't take you by surprise but it makes your nerves build up even more. The pit in your stomach now seems to take up al available space and even then, it only seems to grow bigger and bigger. Your mind has to dig through countless of book pages to get to the asked piece of information: when was the last time you had been in the park?

"A few days ago?" you answer in a questioning tone, admitting the words take you by surprise. It gives you time to reflect on yourself: how you abandoned the park for the library, and the real tree for a fantasia daydream of it. All of that for your soulmate, even if it's your own fault.

Sicheng hears how unsure you are by the underlying tone in your voice, it gives away that you're either way insecure or scared. He opts for the second one: it obviously wasn't going to be good news if he had been trying to reach you for over two hours just to happily talk about your visits to the park. "I was there today, y/n."

"And?" you impatiently urge for him to continue speaking before you properly processed the words that he went to the park. It's nerve-wracking to wait until he finally speaks up, even if you doubt that you want to hear what he has to say.

Nix.

"The daisies are gone, someone plucked them off. Only some stems are left"

⋅ ⋅ ⋅

When you wished for freedom, you didn't wish for the four daisies to be plucked away from you.

Your fingers dig through the grass in an attempt to find remains of the daisies, or find new barely-blooming daisies. You run your fingers through the cold grass multiple times, your eyes observing between the blades of grass to hopefully encounter something.

Sadly, you have to conclude that everything is gone, aside from the stems that are hidden between the grass. Clearly, the non-beautiful pieces were left even if they were critical to the white-yellow-coloured flower. There is a torn piece of a white petal laying in the depths of the grass, and you grieve over it.

Tears are endangering the soft and dry skin fo your cheeks, but the wet tears stay hidden in the corners of your eyes for as long as you're strong enough to hold them back. "Why?"

You don't get a response to your question, simply because you're not asking anyone, and no one is around you to answer. You know it's a question you can answer for yourself, and there is only one answer possible: you're the one to blame.

The blame is put on yourself, for various and valid reasons. For starters, you abandoned the park to spend your time in a library where books guide your feelings instead of your heart. Second, you were the person that wished for freedom and it heavily affected your chances to ever meet your soulmate in this life.

The combination of thoughts trigger the tears and they take their chance to slowly roll down your cheeks in grief. You feel your cheeks getting wet with remains of sadness, regret and grief. Before the first one falls onto the green grass, another one already rushes out and follows the wet trail.

You want to close your eyes and disappear from reality, but you don't allow yourself to see your soulmate's soft orbs when you close your own. Instead, you can only stare at what should have been the flowers guiding you as you walked on the path to your soulmate.

Whatever there is left to grasp, you grasp between your fingertips. You pull pieces of grass from the earth in the process of taking the leftover stems from their designated growing space.

When you stand up from your kneeled position, you faintly notice that the jeans fabric that covers your knees became a mixed colour of green and brown: the colours of grass and dirt. But the discoloured jeans are the least of your concerns right now.

With the stems of the daisies tightly clutched in your fist, you leave the daimyo oak alone by running out of the park. There's only one place you can go, and only one person that can tell you what to do: Cyan.

Your feet had never been this fast whilst running to the library, nor had your eyes done an effort of this kind to make sure you didn't bump into fellow humans or objects. That was one less disappointment for you to worry about. You had no idea for how long you ran when you finally arrived at the library, it seemed to have taken hours but in reality, it must have been a matter of minutes.

"Ecru" leaves you lips before you run through the barely-opened door to get inside the library. You look around frantically, searching for Cyan but you can only see Jungwoo who is still studying whatever he got to know about his soulmate.

Your feet skip over the large tiles as you march over to Jungwoo, trying to be understanding but you pull at the cord of his earbuds so that at least one of them falls from his ear. His lips are parted in surprise and it takes him a second to turn his head and realise that it's you who did it.

"Where is Cyan?"

Jungwoo doesn't answer your question immediately, causing you to only get more anxious. Tears start to rapidly flow down your cheeks, they do it gracefully but the sight looks far from that in third-person view.

"Why are you crying?" Jungwoo asks you worriedly, grasping your arm in an attempt to pull you into a comforting hug. But your trembling hands don't allow it, yet, they're too weak to stay together to protect whatever is left of the little daisies.

The remains sadly fall to the floor, descending from between your fingertips and onto the cold tiles. Your eyes meet Jungwoo's momentarily but as soon as you become aware of the emptiness in your hands, your blurry vision shifts to your hands, and towards the floor.

One droplet, two droplets and still flowing. Falling on the sadly fallen flower stems and petals.

"They plucked my daisies" you croak out in a broken voice, staring at the floor where the faint green colour becomes the eye-catcher of the scenery. Your blurry vision leaves you with nothing but hues, you can't even recognise the shape of a stem in the little heap that was on the floor.

You still feel the stems falling from between your fingers even though you're left empty-handed.

"Your daisies?" Jungwoo asks as he stares at the floor as well. His vision clear enough to see blades of grass, mixed with a couple of while petals and next to them some more greenery that he can't particularly name because they look the same as grass but a different texture. It's the little petal that makes him realise what you mean when you say the word 'daisies' but it still doesn't click in his mind.

His hand awkwardly moves towards you as you continue to sadly drop your tears over the greenery, his hand is reaching towards your back but pulls back in hesitation.

Before Jungwoo is able to make up his mind about the right way of comforting you, your name is called by Cyan who almost spurts from the hidden room within the library. She marches over to you with quick and heavy steps until she's right in front of you.

"y/n, what's wrong?" Cyan asks as her foot hovers over the stems unnoticeably, her hands move to your shoulders to make looking into your eyes possible. Her hands instantly straighten your shoulders but your eyes never leave the stems that are now crushed by a pair of elderly-woman shoes. You don't have the guts to say anything about it, if anything, it makes you realise that your chance to meet your soulmate is crushed.

"My daisies" you start to say but you can't finish off what you said so far. The daisies were the only living organism that mattered to you aside from your soulmate, and now, both of those were lost. Your arms that limply hang from your body bring a movement to your index finger, merely pointing down to where Cyan is standing. The effort goes by unnoticed, even by yourself.

"Your daisies?" Cyan inquires but the tears that freely run down your cheeks give away the answer before you even have to tell her what's going on. Better than you know, she is aware of your task and aware of the five daisies that led you to your soulmate. She doesn't judge even if she knows, she listens.

You nod your head, hiccuping due to the lump of sadness that is stuck in your throat. "Someone plucked my daisies and now they are gone."

Cyan's hands that had been on your shoulders, rapidly move to the back of your head as she pulls your body against her own. Her lips part as she wants to say everything will be okay any upcoming day, but that sadly wasn't the truth, nor would you believe it if she said that.

"Look at me," she tells you, once again holding onto your shoulders as she distances your bodies. Your tear-filled eyes are slow to react and ignorant as you can barely focus them on her. "This doesn't mean the end, y/n. I'm going to help you look for a way to make this right."

You want to trust her, you really do. But you can't bring yourself to put a grain of trust in her words because they seem unrealistic, just like everything else that is happening in this library.

"y/n," she says your name effortlessly because she knows you're listening even if you are not willing to. "I'm going to help you. Together we can still find your soulmate" she tells you, just the same words as earlier but with different words and phrases.

You take her hands away from your shoulders and shake your head in response. Your earlier wish for freedom becomes the wish to never remember any of the things that happened, a wish for the daimyo oak to permanently and magically disappear from the park so that you never have to look back at it again.

"Sorry Cyan," You say to her, the words hide the exact phrase that you're giving up or you've already given up at this point. Once more, your eyes meet the floor in sadness.

A virgin-white petal stares at you from its position on the floor, it's as damaged as your heart is, yet, its condition doesn't make you feel less lonely. You bend down, not caring if both Cyan and Jungwoo are staring at you whilst you grieve over the lost and broken petals.

Your fingertip reaches out for the petal, carefully lifting it as it rests on your fingertip.

You have to decide if you're going to wilt like a daisy or if you're just going to go forward and live the life that you've been granted

「 ʙᴇɪɢᴇ # ꜰ5ꜰ5ᴅᴄ 」

Your fingertip caresses the outline of the daisy that is printed on the spine of the book, your finger lifting slightly when it comes across one of the raised bands in the middle of the spine. It's useless to open the book but you can't help it, you open the book until the gutter is steady enough to separate the two parts.

Another illustration of a daisy stares back at you as you observe it, it's the anatomy of a daisy, something you surely knew by head at this point. Why did you still remember it even when you would never be able to use the knowledge?

Your heart hurts, almost symbolically sinks when your thumb tumbles over a few chapters, a new page greeting you with the uses of a daisy. Your eyes follow the different uses: culinary when its young leaves are between other edible greenery in a salad, herbal medicine when their juice is extracted to heal wounds, soulmate when it's destined that a person looks for an object of affection through the French game effeuiller la marguerite.

You swallow away the lump of sentiment in the back of your throat, trying not to gaze upon the infamous word, but you read out the word silently at least five times, once for every flower you abandoned in the park. Your thumb moves to the corner of the page, over the page number in hopes to skip over the page.

Yet, two minutes later, your eyes still read over the words while your thumb is frozen upon the digits that you don't want to change. It's like you're sentimentally obsessed, a bad consequence of not being able to say goodbye before your grieving process began.

Donghyuck who has been studying a book about dreams -as he has been dreaming about his soulmate and still would dream about them until the day they would meet one another -, stands up from his stool as he sees you lurking around the bookshelves in distress and grief.

"Are you alright, y/n?" he asks with a caring smile on his lips, you miss the sight because your eyes are endlessly pasted on the page of the book. At first, you only nod in response before muttering out a quiet, "yes."

Donghyuck shakes his head, his hand pulling on the top edge of the book to take it from your tight grip. "Focus on me for a few seconds, please. I know you're not alright," he says as he manages to conquer your weak grip, receiving the book between his hands even if it was never your intention for it to end up in his hands.

"I don't want to talk," You say as you look at Donghyuck but only momentarily, not allowing him to look at your tear-filled eyes for longer than a handful of seconds. You lower your head, facing the floor and mistakably see the green hue of the stems even when the floor is clean and only matte in its own dark-blue colouration.

"I know," Donghyuck responds, his hands gently put away the book on the nearby bookshelf before he takes your hands in his to hold. "But you can't give up now, your soulmate is waiting somewhere for you. Are you going to give all of that up because of the daisies?"

Even if you don't want to listen to what he has to say - because you've heard the same words at least twenty times in the past week - you can't help but listen to every word and consider it in the depths of your mind. "I know," you answer to his words but leave his question unanswered.

Yes, you are going to give up the progress you made because your daisies are plucked away. There is no reason for you to continue the search of your object of affection just to please your inner-soulmate personality or dreams. The longer you think about it, the more doubts you start to have with everything that has happened. No one could change your mind thus far: not Johnny who came by to say he met his soulmate, not Émilie that took your seat the times she was there, not Cyan who tried her hardest to be a positivist in this situation.

"Don't give up yet," Donghyuck said as he looked at you, a sad smile coating his lips because he felt emotional by just the sight and thought. If he were to lose the one thing that could lead him to his soulmate, he would have given up too, perhaps even earlier than you did. "You still have the daimyo oak in the park right? Please don't give up so soon."

You don't plan on replying to Donghyuck's endless pleading about you giving up, but a response is not anticipated anymore when the noise of the iron doors opening suddenly interrupts the conversation. All heads turn to the door, even yours is quick to react by giving all of your focus to the door instead of the melancholic-looking floor.

You catch a glimpse of who is running out of the door before it slowly starts to close again.

Black-haired Jungwoo who had been dressed in his usual jeans with nothing but a simple shirt to dress him up casually for the daily library visits. The white Converse-branded shoes on his feet take him out of the library as fast as his feet allow him to go. Walking is not even an option, he is running.

"What is going on?" Donghyuck and you simultaneously blurt out when seeing the young boy run out like his life is depending on it. Even when the iron-grated door slowly closes again, your eyes don't recolate, too astonished by the sudden unexplained and unexpected situation.

Cyan slowly steps forward towards the door as she sees it closing, she carries a smile on her lips as she knows exactly what is going on. She glances proudly at the closed doors, her eyes slowly blinking as her imagination is prepared to show her what is going to follow next. "His soulmate," she answers shortly, giving you and Donghyuck a soft look "flowers are blooming on his path, he must know the way."

The words leave you and Donghyuck clueless, but it's the smile displayed on her lips that make you the most confused that you have been in a while. You have the perception that Jungwoo found his soulmate, or at least is one step further than he was last week.

As you feel your heart breaking, you experience happiness that Jungwoo found his soulmate.

⋅ ⋅ ⋅

The minute hand ticks around the clock twice, it signals four times in two hours: when a new hour is announced and when that same hour passed halfway already.

One hundred sixty-six minutes pass by on the clock, you don't count any of the minutes but you're aware enough of the time each time you take a small glance. Due to the observing skill, it's not hard to count how many minutes pass by.

The minute hand is about to move a millimetre under your watching eyes, but you get distraught by the sound of the door opening. It can only be one person, the person everyone waited for: the person Donghyuck and you stayed longer for, the person Cyan dropped her work for.

Jungwoo appears inside again with a jubilant smile coating his lips, he looks like he won a singing contest but is out of breath due to the timeworn use of his voice. He breathes deeply as the doors close, giving him a cool breeze even though his body feels too warm to get cooled off.

"y/n," he starts immediately as his steps approach you, his pace fast but the rhythm in his footsteps are off due to the running back and forth he did. Twelve steps further, he stops when he is only two steps away from making physical contact with you.

You stay silent as you're taken by surprise, surprised by the sudden unexpected scenario that is yet to unfold right in front of your eyes. Speechless, even after a few seconds, you still can't utter out a response.

"I was in the park," Jungwoo says as he notices your silence, his breathing faintly coating a layer of warmth on your cheeks due to the condensation. His hand reaches out to yours gently, running only the pad of his thumb over the skin of your hand. "In the park?" you ask him soft, your expression brightening by a whisker, but it's enough for Jungwoo to see the changes.

"I was in the park" He repeats again, his other four fingertips slowly embracing yours until he is properly holding your hand in his. Your hand is trembling in anticipation or fear, for whatever is about to leave his lips next.

You nod in response, urging for him to continue speaking, you want to pull the words out of his mind so that you can hear them sooner, but realise he must have seen something unforeseen. "I went to the park for you, because I heard you talking about the Daimyo oak. So I immediately left and went there, and under the tree was a daisy."

A daisy. Those are the only two words you process out of all of the words he said. It's quiet when you try to once again process and accept what he said, your imagination running wild over the thought of one single daisy blooming under the oak, giving you another chance to meet your soulmate.

"Are you for real?" you ask as a smile slowly creeps onto your lips, your lips desire to curve upwards but you don't let them because your heart doesn't want to be harmed in case it was only a sick joke on your grieving process.

Jungwoo excitedly bobs his head up and down as a yes, he's excited but at the same time he has never been so serious about something before, he's torn with what way to bring over the news to you in order for you to believe it. But the young man can't contain the positivity that streamed through his veins when under the Daimyo oak, he saw a tiny daisy growing.

"You have to get to the park," Donghyuck says with a bright smile, Jungwoo's excitement clearly getting transferred to Donghyuck because he's unable to control the happy expression on his face. His eyes shift to Jungwoo and then back to you, not even considering Cyan who has been standing with you as well. "Go!"

Cyan clears her throat before you can do as Donghyuck says, it doesn't stop you from taking a step towards the door but does stop you from running out of the library to check if a daisy is really growing in the spot where the other four had been plucked away. She calls your name to make you turn towards her, which you do as you become aware that she wants to say something.

"Don't let it get plucked away again," She starts saying in a serious tone, almost strict as this might truly be the last chance you have to find your soulmate. You react by nodding your head, not giving her words attention, nor do you use your own words to reply to her.

It turns out to be Donghyuck who triggers you into ignoring Cyan "go!" he shouts and in reaction to that, you take off running. You exchange the library for the outside world again, this time not for freedom, but for your soulmate who might have given you one last chance.

⋅ ⋅ ⋅

Desire is like a storm. Things get broken

There is a quote saying "where flowers bloom, so does hope."

Hope bloomed in the depths of your heart as you ran all the way from the library to the park, running over the grass instead of the path just to get there a few seconds faster. From afar you weren't able to see if your tree engulfed a little blooming daisy.

But once you came closer, close enough to observe small-scaled details. One thing you're not able to observe is the growth of a little miracle in the grass.

Green is the only colour that paints the grass-filled space underneath the tree, you're not colour-blind, as no petals nor disks stare at you as you stare down in search for them. There are no daisies growing, peeking from out of the grass to grow even taller than the green blades.

"Where is the daisy?" you ask yourself quietly as you glance around your aura, circling around like a clock but it's useless. Nothing is growing, nor blooming, aside from the pain in your heart, even though you're embraced by the branches of the Daimyo oak.

Your view lowers itself another notch, this time in disappointment as there is nothing more to observe. Whether Jungwoo played a joke on you, or the flower got plucked away between the time that you and Jungwoo separately observed here, is something that doesn't matter. It's not Jungwoo's fault, nor is it the tree's that didn't protect its fellow natural miracle. It's your fault, you couldn't even live life as a natural flower, you bloomed like an artificial flower.

「 ꜰʟᴏʀᴀʟᴡʜɪᴛᴇ # ꜰꜰꜰᴀꜰ0 」

Your slouched shoulders effortlessly moved along with the natural movement as soon as you sigh, the walls seem to tighten after you let out the sigh. You feel closed in but the walls are so far away, it feels like you are left alone in a place you don't recognise anymore.

The physical sensation you feel when you sigh makes it clear that you're heartbroken, if not any feeling that is even worse than heartbreak. Even though heartbreak is the excellent word to use right now, broken not by your soulmate, but by yourself.

There's a hot cup in your hands, hot from the heat of the beverage, but it doesn't warm up your cold fingertips, nor does your heart feel warm by the little source of heat.

Less than one week ago, your days still felt enchanted. Filled to the upper brim with magic of the unexplained. Your warm beverage had tasted like the loveliest love potion, and you had willingly drunk every sip until the last drop fell on your tongue.

Each day was different but no less magical, if anything, each day that passed was more magical than the other. The twenty-four hours in a day resembled one step towards your soulmate, thus you walked the path for countless hours, and got one step closer to the promised land with each day that appeared on the calendar.

Dull. Days no longer felt magical or enchanted. Days were endlessly filled with dullness: every twenty-four hours, all one thousand four hundred forty hours, and the many seconds you could convert it to but that would fall into more depressive thoughts about never being able to walk the path.

Flowers had wilted on the path, blooming was something that wouldn't occur again. It was one of a kind opportunity to see the path filled with flowers. Unforgettable. Now you're doomed to walk on the same path and notice how the shades of reality coloured life but left the wilted flowers monochrome.

"ecru"

The word is hidden behind the muffled scoff that you let out but you can hear yourself saying the words. You don't expect a large door to grant you access to a library this time, if anything, you wish for something grander. Whether your grand wish has something to do with your soulmate is something you don't even know: you wish to meet him but at the same time you wish to forget everything that happened. Even though you're sitting in your own home, you hope that you can forget the past weeks and return home. A world without Daimyo oak and daisies.

Next to the post-it note where the term of the colour is scribbled down on, is your phone that has been endlessly occupied with its buzzing indications. It's something you opted to ignore for the past forty minutes even though the buzzing is more bothersome than the person who is spamming you with possible supportive messages.

You let out a soft sigh when the buzzing finally comes to a halt for longer than five seconds, you can't see it yourself but a sense of relief is washing over your facial expression, coating the sadness momentarily.

Now that the obnoxious buzzing isn't filling your eardrums, you feel tempted to pick up the phone and look at the messages, perhaps even force yourself to reply to some of them. Your temptation is hard to neglect, and within a span of nine seconds, the phone moves from the table into your hand.

The plain lockscreen of a professionally photographed scenery makes you think negatively about the way people see reality, it's them that see all of the nice colours while in reality, things are as coloured as you make them, and you're not planning on continuing your life with a pair of ecru-coloured glasses sugarcoating the world.

You're about to press the button to make your screen go black but get reminded of the many notifications because of the little border that restricts you from seeing the full picture on the screen. You take a second to stare at all of them: not individually even if multiple messages and useless emails have been displayed there, the global look seems to be your concept for picking who is important enough to reply to.

One name catches your attention, a name that you put in your contacts but never received a message from, nor ever sent a message to him: Kim Jungwoo.

Jungwoo [ 9 : 59 am ] : please reply, Cyan said that you shouldn't let the daisy get plucked away

The message makes you press the screen multiple times, once to say you want to read the message and twice to confirm to your phone that opening the messaging app is all you want at this moment. The coloured lockscreen disappears from your sight, instead, you're greeted with at least a dozen of one-sided messages, waiting for a response from you.

You scroll up lightly, until the moment your screen nearly hits the top of the saved conversation. Intensely, you read them word by word even though minutes ago, you swore you became a non-believer

Jungwoo [ 9 : 10 am ] : are you awake? There's something I need to say

Jungwoo [ 9 : 31 am ] : the daisy is under the oak in the park

Jungwoo [ 9 : 31 am ] : please believe me this time, I swear it's there

Jungwoo [ 9 : 46 am ] : let me go to the park with you, I'll show you

Jungwoo [ 9 : 48 am ] : please believe me. This oak is my birth flower and I believe in the magic that it would grant you a daisy because it did. I swear the daisy is there

Jungwoo [ 9 : 50 am ] : I'm staying here until you reply

Even though it was a waste of time, you still read the remaining seven messages to yourself, they all said the same, they all told you to reply or get your ass to the park as fast as possible. Another element that returned in more than half of the messages: the daisy.

Your feet are steadily placed on the floor, your legs seem to make it a forceful feeling like you're preparing to start running a marathon any second now. Indeed, you are ready for takeoff whenever the last straw triggers you into doing so. There's only one destination, one path, one marathon trail and that leads you straight to the park.

But it's your mind that runs a different marathon and prevents you from putting stupid thoughts into action, your mind endlessly avoids both of the paths there are: to go or not to go. You have enough reasons not to, seeing last time there hadn't been a daisy. If there is a reason to go, it's for your soulmate.

There is nothing you can lose by going, or at least that's what your heart tells you to tone down the loudness of your mind's unsteady footsteps. Plus you still trust Jungwoo, despite him being incorrect about the daisy last time, but you convince yourself that he stood under the wrong tree…

"The wrong tree?" You question the words you tried to convince yourself of, it's a thought that didn't cross your mind before but he had never explicitly said the Daimyo oak was his birth flower. It meant that he wouldn't be able to choose the wrong tree, there was only one Daimyo oak in the park, and apparently, it was accompanied by one daisy.

Jungwoo [ 10 : 13 ] : please come to the park

The buzz from the phone almost went through your veins, triggering you into the takeoff you had expected. Without responding to the text, you put the phone in your pocket as you got up from your chair.

Left your house, door wide open, heaven knows.

The daisy is so worth it, it is.

⋅ ⋅ ⋅

The unbuttoned grey trenchcoat that Jungwoo is wearing immediately pulls your attention, almost no one could pull off being so tall and make a trenchcoat look shorter than it proportionally was. Yet, it is the pure-looking facial features that bring the small sign of happiness to your lips.

"Finally!" He breathes out as you take the last few steps towards him, removing his hands from the 'storm' pockets to immediately run them through his black haircut instead. His body is filled with healthy tension and perhaps fear as well, because he badly wants you to believe him, after all, he had been speaking the truth all this time.

"How long have you been here?" You ask worriedly as you imagine him being here for way longer than you might realise, especially when you think about the forty minutes that he begged for you to come to the park. Jungwoo shrugs in response but there's a mischievous smile that tells you everything you need to know, "not too long".

As you look at Jungwoo, the Daimyo oak seems to naturally catch your attention by being as tall as it is. You don't need to tell the black-haired boy in front of you about the oak, nor about your newly-found excitement and hope about the daisy because Jungwoo can almost feel your emotions spreading through the many veins in his body.

"Oh!" Jungwoo reminds himself when he remembers why the mischievous smile was on his lips and the reason why he had been waiting here at the park for over an hour. "You have to come and look at the daisy," he said as his hand leaves his hair and immediately reaches out for your hand.

It would have looked like him dragging you along if it weren't for your own fast-paced footsteps that match Jungwoo's as you march towards the oak. You stay quiet as you anticipate the appearance of a little daisy, but Jungwoo can only let out a happy sound that almost sounds like a giggle.

You heard those happy giggles before, years ago, when your friends played "loves me, loves me not" with the daisies in the park and you wonder if soon you will be the giggly person because there is someone who answered you positively. You might not be at the appropriate age to giggle about such things, but better late than never. And when you're old: nostalgia is nostalgia, no matter at which age you were giggly over a lover you met through a game of loves me, loves me not.

Your feet move slightly faster than Jungwoo's when you're only a few steps away from being under what seems like your safe haven. Jungwoo takes it as a sign and slowly lets go of your hand, stopping his feet from moving before he's able to step into your safe bubble.

His eyes follow every movement you make, his eyes shining with happiness for you but he feels a little piece of his heart hiding the feelings that he isn't supposed to feel. He doesn't want to feel as okay as he feels, he wants to tear up but something tells him it's okay to be okay. His thoughts take him to fragments of time: when he saw you laugh or when he saw the tears rolling down your cheeks, all of the times he can look back on with his honest heart that stays hidden for the outside world.

"Jungwoo?"

Your voice pulls him out of his thoughts, he doesn't need to move his head to be able to see you as he had been staring at you and the scenery unknowingly. Nervously, his hand itches the back of his neck but still doesn't get the hint that something is expected from him.

"There is no daisy," You tell him even if it is too quiet for him to hear it, you only hear yourself say the words. You wish you were in a phase of denial, a phase where your mind will sugarcoat the sad story with something untrue and non-realistic. "There is no daisy!"

The second time the words leave your lips, Jungwoo can clearly hear what you said. "What do you mean?" Jungwoo asks incoherently, confusion fills his mind but he can't see anything because you're standing in front of the spot where he saw the daisy before.

His lips part slightly to speak but nothing comes out, he swore he saw the daisy here before you were here, and the time when you didn't show up at all as well. There was only one flower so how would he be mistaken so much? His breathing is stuck in his throat from the bundle of nerves that block the way.

With heavy - almost plumbum-feeling - feet he drags himself under your safe haven and his birth tree. Just like all the times before this one, he feels a sense of warmth engulfing him like the tree is holding protective branches around his body and above his head.

His feet come to a halt right next to you, like an anchor sinking to the depths of the sea, he stranded to this particular spot and isn't able to move another step. He moves his head to the right slightly, trying to catch a glimpse of the green grass that should surround the white flower. "The daisy," Jungwoo exclaims in a whisper as there are no white petals of which the colour deviates with the green of the grass.

Geen madeliefje

"y/n," Jungwoo starts anxiously as he placed his hand on your shoulder, the grip barely non-existent as the happiness from before is replaced with a heap of other mixed feelings. He feels sad for you, he truly does, on the other hand, he can't help but feel blank and empty now that there is no flower that grants your wish to find your soulmate.

Your lower lip nearly trembles as you hold it back from parting to yell at the world, yell at Jungwoo for once again saying he saw a daisy while there is no daisy waiting for you. It bothers you more how his warm and comforting hand is placed upon your shoulder.

"Jungwoo," you repeat his name as he said yours, the difference is found in the tone: whereas he sounded anxious, you sound broken. It's a symbolical thing but Jungwoo can almost hear your heart breaking in pieces when you say his name like that, even though, your heart would never react in any form or shape when saying his name.

Your body turns to him, causing his hand to limply drop to where it is supposed to be next to his body. Your eyes are closed but you find the courage to slowly open them to look at Jungwoo, you hope disappointment isn't the blinding emotion in them because you try to keep it hidden.

"It's okay, thank you for trying," You say in a soft tone, curving your lips into a smile but the corners stay as tight at they are now, not even moving the tiniest inch because you keep them in tone. "I'm sorry, I really thought I saw a daisy here," Jungwoo noiselessly admits, his eyes non-stop going between you and the spot where he saw the flower blooming.

You look at him to meet his eyes, knowing you can believe him when he says that, and you want him to know that you believe him but at the same time that you're disappointed in yourself for allowing the situation to get out of hand. The brown eyes seem familiar, a little too familiar as you swear you've been staring into them every time you close your eyes.

Jungwoo tilts his head as you look into his eyes, confused by the sudden change in your non-verbal attitude even though he unknowingly feels the same emotions as you do. The more you stare at him, the further his head tilts as he continues to gaze back.

Something as tiny as a snowflake appears in front of your visions, Jungwoo sees it as it dwindles down in front of your eyes, you can see it peacefully falling from his hair and onto his grey trenchcoat. Your eyes want to shift to the sky but you're stopped by the colour contrast going on in Jungwoo's hair.

White petals elegantly rest on the black strands of hair and a single minuscule daisy is trapped between the locks of his bangs. The white petals contrast against his black hair and the yellow-coloured disk makes the look wholesome. Disbelief spreads through your body, causing your eyes to widen as you try to make sense of the situation.

"There is a daisy in your hair, Jungwoo," you whisper nervously as your fingertip points towards the non-artificial flower in his hair. The sight makes your heart beat faster: a nearly adoring feeling spreading from your heart into your tiniest bloodstream.

You're standing under Jungwoo's birth flower, the Daimyo oak. While you're standing there: you are looking for a daisy to find your soulmate with and Jungwoo is next to you with multiple petals in his hair and one daisy to complete the look.

"In my hair?" Jungwoo asks as he uses his hand to almost comb through his hair, causing a few of the petals to fall from his hair and onto his fabric-covered shoulders. He feels the softness of the petals under his fingertips and can almost feel his quickened heartbeat in the tips of his fingers with each touch he leaves onto the petals.

You don't have to conclude, it's premade and there's only one possibility. Jungwoo is your soulmate.

Saying the words out loud isn't something beefed, by the time the conclusion is given to you, Jungwoo already has a bright smile on his lips. Smiling like a flower receiving a bit of sunlight to grow towards, smiling like a person who just found his soulmate.

His gaze is locked with yours, staring at one another as the droplets of reality sink in. The brief silence that follows is as tender as a rainstorm of daisies.

"It's you," you whisper to break the silence, your eyes endlessly locked on your soulmate who can't help but mirror your actions because he's stunned. A smile breaks through your facial expression as the last sigh finally pushes past your lips.

The flower in your heart was blooming and you could feel the effect it had on you. The person that you had fun with and cried with, the person you motivated into searching for his soulmate. He was your object of affection.

Jungwoo slowly nods even if he is still trying to grasp the situation with both hands, his fingertips slip from reality and dip into the ecru world he unconsciously chose for when Cyan told him to choose a colour. "It's me, " he says in a soft tone, a nervous chuckle slipping from his lips as his ecru world no longer seems divergent from reality.

Under the embrace of the tree, Jungwoo reached his arms out to you and within seconds engulfed you in his arms. His arms felt warm and sincere, feeling the desperation by the strong grip he had on you.

Your eyes were closed, as were Jungwoo's, almost overly used to the vague image of one another. But the heartfelt moment keeps you in reality, the freshly-bloomed love between two soulmates.

"Their desire was silent yet magnificent, like a thousand daisies attuning their faces toward the path of the sun"

「 ᴇᴄʀᴜ # ꜰᴀꜰ0ᴇ6 」

The chorus of your alarm needlessly plays its tune to wake you up, it's only on the bedside table so you have no trouble in reaching out your arm and pressing your index finger onto anything that feels like a phone screen. It's a Sunday morning, a day of only domestic softness and time for loved ones.

"Why did you set your alarm?" You hear the voice next to you question out loud even if it only sounds like a mumble, the slight chilliness makes everything sound louder than it truly is. The sheets even produce slight sounds as Jungwoo turns his body to you, pulling your body against his until there is no space for gaps to breathe. "I have no idea," you mumble in response, your heart relaxing after being awoken by the music.

It's too late to fall into slumber again and you would rather spend your time looking at your soulmate, Kim Jungwoo. You slowly turn your body around until you're facing him and smile once you see his somewhat swollen cheeks from laying on them all night. "Stop."

You let out a small laugh at Jungwoo's simple request for you to stop staring at him, his voice makes it sound effortlessly adorable and from that, you conclude that he must be happy with the specific way of affection you're giving him. Still, you don't follow his request and stare at him for a few seconds longer: giving him your coloured eyes full of admiration and love.

"You're still doing it, flower ~" Jungwoo sings almost impossibly high, his morning voice straining his throat which results in him letting out a small cough. After giving your boyfriend a worried look, you let out a hum as you know you've been caught in the act.

"Gotta admire it before it gets plucked away"

Jungwoo scoffs in response to your words, his fingertips pressing onto your skin like it is a sign that he wouldn't get plucked away and wouldn't let you get plucked from his life either. It's a soft feeling on your warm skin, his fingertips caress protectively. "I won't get plucked away," Jungwoo says to ease your mind a bit from the worries, he can imagine the thoughts that go through your mind on this lovely Sunday morning "but you'll have to water me every day," he whispers against the shell of your ear, hoping to hear you laugh at those words.

It is not the joke that makes you laugh, it is not the dirty undertone of the words, but it is Jungwoo simply being himself that makes the smile return to your lips. Worries fade like the moon does in the sky who temporarily exchanges his position so that the sun can make flowers grow a little more towards the light.

"Was that supposed to sound as dirty as it did?" You ask him as you can finally find the laughter in his words and you seize the opportunity to make this morning a good one. Jungwoo's facial expression deadpans but it's noticeable that he's trying to bite the corners of his lips with the intention keep them on the thin verge of curving upwards. "Nope," he says, his lips pressed together but laughter breaks the non-existent glue between his bottom- and lower- lip.

"I don't believe you, look into my eyes and say again that those words were not meant to sound dirty," you request from him as you get yourself comfortable on the free space of his pillow, making it easier to look into the homely-brown pair of eyes. Which he does: his eyes travel from the exposed skin near your chest, up to your lips and into your eyes. "Those words were not supposed to sound dirty, your interpretation was wrong… but I guess you just think about sex often," he teases.

In disbelief, you playfully roll your eyes at what you've been told about yourself, by none other than your own soulmate. "You think so? I think you should go out for a walk and reflect on who has the dirtiest mind here," you suggest, using the same playfulness from when you rolled your eyes.

Jungwoo's laugh fills the room, ringing decibels louder than your alarm did before you were awake. But the sound is music to your ears: it's the perfect song, played at a loud volume that it deserves to get played on because everyone should hear his laugh. Seconds after he started, his laugh slowly dies down as his lips gaze towards your lips again.

"Maybe it's me," he admits in a serious tone as his lips copy yours unconsciously, making slow movements like yours as you part your lips to respond to his words. His serious tone doesn't make you laugh but it still sounds strangely sincere, perhaps because his mind did shift to a sexier setting once he saw your lips moving like they usually did.

Once you catch up with his newly-found interest for your lips, you also catch up with his confession of why he is the one with the dirtiest mind between the two of you. You become aware of your lips being the centre of attention and play along at the moment by biting the right corner of your lower lip. "I bet it is".

Jungwoo huffs when he realises your teases are not a coincidence, nor an accident. But he's quick-witted and pulls your body on top of his without hesitation: giving you no other option but to once again look into his brown eyes. His expression is unreadable: he doesn't look like he's playing around anymore, but the same softness is still displayed in the depths of his orbs.

He puckers his lips and pouts them upwards, getting more and more desperate until he finally reaches your soft lips with his own. The kiss that he initiates is soft for the first few seconds and he can feel your smiling lips against his out of happiness.

Soon his lips start to move against yours, the kiss getting more heated as you notice his body is yearning for certain touches and that special kind of affection. Energy and excitement mix together and spread through his limbs and even his lips get affected by it: his lips that were moving against yours slowly lower themselves in a trail filled with open-mouthed kisses. He doesn't stop until the moment he kisses the side of your exposed neck, the kisses finally arrived at the planned destination.

The soft breath you let out as reaction only makes Jungwoo press more kisses in your neck, knowing by the reaction that they make your morning a little more pleasurable. His unoccupied hands trail to your hips, keeping you still before you can even start to make slow grinding motions on top of him, his fingertips squeeze your covered skin whilst his imagination starts running wild.

"Is it not too early for this?" you ask soft as your head lulls to one side, allowing his kisses to take up more space and press on the more sensitive spots of your skin. A hum leaves Jungwoo's lips and you feel the vibrations of his hum against your throat "it's never too early for this," he whispers against your skin, placing another kiss down before he pulls away from you.

Jungwoo sits up on his knees and rids himself of his layers of nightwear: the shirt that covers his skin and the pair of sweatpants that hide the hairs on his legs. His boxers are tightly covering the crotch area and it only gets worse as he winds himself up over the thought of your body. Once he's undressed, he gapes at you as you do the same he did seconds ago. Your shirt is discarded and your shorts soon join to coat the floor with a layer of fabric.

"Look at you," he whispers as he smiles at the sight of you bare, it's not just naked, it's bare and outside of that, it's beautiful. More beautiful than watching blooming flowers in the park but he shouldn't pluck petals, he only waters them so that they grow.

After taking in the sight of your body once more, he leans down to your abdomen and runs his fingertips over every little bump of your skin, every soft little patch and every rough one too. When he reaches the waistband of your underwear, he loops his fingers through them and starts to remove them in a teasingly slow manner: first an inch on the left, then only half an inch on the right. The fabric feels smooth as it runs over your legs but it's his fingers that provide warmth.

Your underwear soon joins the little heap of discarded clothes on the floor, you opt to look at where it lands out of habit but Jungwoo pays no attention to the piece of clothing.

Unlike your previous position, Jungwoo now hovers over you instead. His lips press kisses over every spot of your skin: what you expected to be a heated moment of not-so-delicate touches ends up being a moment where his lips caress over your skin with adoration.

"I love you so much," he whispers to you, his lips pressing against your earlobe to give a tiny kiss there before his loving path continues down your body. Your response follows minutes later when his lips have almost reached the lower part of your stomach but you're simply in bliss due to these soft petal-like kisses. "I love you too," you whisper back to him, sucking in some fresh air but it results in your mouth allowing a quiet moan to slip out.

The way his soft lips press kisses against your sensitive skin makes the moment last longer, it makes you more impatient for more but you're enjoying the slow pace towards a possible love-filled morning. His lips press together on the smooth path of your inner thigh: giving both sides an equal amount of kisses but teasingly kisses towards your sensitive areas more.

"I want to make love to you," Jungwoo mumbles against your smooth skin, his warm breathing reflecting on his cheeks that start to feel slightly damp but he doesn't care. "Can I?"

Luckily he looks up at you when he's asking the question, he sees you nod almost right after he says the words. A smile changes his current appearance and he looks even softer than he did a few minutes ago, you wonder how it's even possible that he looks even more soft and loving.

"Yes?" he asks as you don't reply to his words by actually saying something, even if he is content with the nod, he still wants to hear your voice and have your consent. "Yes," you breathe out, repeating his words without the questioning hue.

He sits up slightly, straightening his back as he is admiring you for a few seconds. His impatient hand runs over the many spots that have been touched by his lips before, it's a teasing trail full of little twists and minimal touches that leave you wanting more. His index finger reaches the most anticipated spot once his trail has been hiked.

"Sex is the seed and love is the flower"

⋅ ⋅ ⋅

Jungwoo hides your hand together with his in the sleeves of his trenchcoat, even though the warmth is provided by the sun, you feel more warmth from his - unnecessary - gesture.

The colour palette that is used to create the scenery of the park comes into view, and you can't help but smile as if you're seeing it for the first time in your life. It's like an ancient painting in a museum, you have seen it on the internet but never in real life, but in reality, it's just been long enough for you to forget the many shades of nature.

Almost six months ago, this would have looked like the stereotypical scenery but minds change, and views change too. From afar you can see the green grass and some white collectables of which you know that they are daisies, they fill the grass like butterflies fill your stomach each time you look at Jungwoo.

"Why are you smiling like that?" Jungwoo asks as he notices the smile on your lips and the way your eyes are trying to catch a glimpse of the park that suddenly isn't as far away anymore. He knows why you smile, but he still asks because he is delighted to hear the story being told from scratch. The story is the book his soulmate picked out for him and his heart willingly read every page.

"Because the park," you respond to him as your eyes shortly move to him but you don't want to lose sight of the real-life painting in front of you, you don't want it to get plucked away. Jungwoo looks away from you to look at the same piece of art, getting lost in the familiarity that sparks a collectibles in his mind.  

The world seems strangely different, the painting seems strangely different despite its familiar setting. The only thing that stays the same is the love between you and Jungwoo as you walk hand-in-hand towards the park. It's only a few seconds away, ten to be exact, nine if you pick up the pace a bit.

Jungwoo's feet halt before he's about to step on the grass field, not because it's something not everyone appreciates, but because his eyes observe why the world seems strangely different. You don't seem to notice yet, your sight is blinded by the colour ecru and you're not aware that the effect might wear off soon.

"y/n"

Your attention goes to your boyfriend again, the scenery that you've been vaguely looking at is replaced by the sight of two very surprised eyes. You hum in response as you continue to look at him, not questioning his look until he mentions it himself, which you're positive of that he will.

"W-where's the oak?" He asks as he looks at you before his eyes drift back to the missing piece of nature in the center of the park, he can see the tree in his imagination but notices its absence when he dips into the river of real life. He thickly swallows even though his throat is waterless.

Your head moves a few degrees to the right as you can only look at your boyfriend, "huh," you ask him as you eye him with your confused orbs.

"The oak," Jungwoo says in a more steady tone even though he has to keep himself steady, for some reason his long legs seem ready to give out any second. His hand untangles itself from yours to point towards the place where he met his soulmate, under a tree that was no longer there, but he was, and you were too.

Your eyes follow his fingertip until you can't see his finger in your eye-width anymore. The greenery of the park doesn't state it but your eyes officially discover the absence of the familiar oak: Jungwoo's birth tree, the tree where you found your soulmate under, the tree where daisies dwindled upon your shoulders once Jungwoo leaned towards you to hold you for the first time.

The memories are close in your embrace but you're no longer held by the tree that made all of those memories possible.  You lower your head, noticing the vague image of little daisies that are spread out all over the field, endlessly gracing every few inches with their appearance.

"Did it get plucked away?" Jungwoo asks soft as his voice almost stops cooperating, he's filled with confusion and emotions, his mind going over at least ninety-nine scenarios and he loses you in every single one of them. His hand is close to yours and he takes the opportunity to hold you tight before - just like the four daisies, and the oak - you get plucked away.

From the uninhabited space in the park, your eyes go to the movements on the little pathway of the park. A pair of unsteady footsteps shuffle over the stone-filled ground but they come to an abrupt stop when she bumps into a young man: as she stumbles back a notch, a smile coats her lips. As the young man helps her by placing his hand on her upper arm, you can see the bright colour of her eyes. Cyan, that's the exact term to the colour of her intoxicating eyes.

"Pick a colour," you read the words that fall from her lips and you can't help but mouth them in relay one second after she does. It's a familiar phrase and you even taste the remains of the colour you picked on your lips: it's a soft shade with a not-so-matching name.

Ecru.

The word effortlessly brings a smile to your lips: it's the colour of your soul and the colour of Jungwoo's love for you. Ecru: ecru was the colour of your world, ecru was atmosphere, ecru was the little steps on your path, ecru were tears when the path was unreadable. Ecru was and is magic.

"I don't think it did," you finally respond to Jungwoo has been looking at you until the answer fell from your lips. Your lips press a small peck onto his to ease his nerves. "We just planted the seed elsewhere, and it's blooming right now."

A U T H O R S N O T E / I N S P O 

hello, little daisies. With this, you must have reached the end of “colourized ecru,” it’s been an honor writing this. I know it’s not the best writing, not the best fic, or anything but I feel happy that I was able to finish this. For the longest time I put off writing this, even to the point where I wanted to tell the other writers that I wasn’t going to go through with the collab. But I did start writing and neatly finished the fic the day before it’s due. Thank you for reading, thank you for existing 

Inspo [music] - winner, remember ; d.o, that’s okay ; yesung, here i am ; yesung, paper umbrella (jungwoo acts in this mv if you didn’t know) ;  lee taeil ; one man (cover and yes I love taeil y’all know) ;  . . .

love, ambrosia aka moondustaeil  🌼

#neowritingsnet #nct #nct 127 #nct scenarios #nct reactions #nct soft hours #nct smut #nct fluff #nct angst #nct x reader #nct imagines #nct 127 scenarios #nct fanfic #nct jungwoo #jungwoo #kim jungwoo #jungwoo scenario #jungwoo smut #jungwoo fluff #jungwoo angst #jungwoo x reader #jungwoo imagines #jungwoo scenarios #jungwoo fic #nct fic #nct drabbles #nct blurb #nct au #nct social media au #Neo city

[worldwidemochiguy]

Yandere! bts reactions — You’re scared of a bug

Namjoon

“Namjoon-oppa!”

Namjoon glanced up at you from the file he was perusing to see your eyes blown wide with fear.

“What’s wrong, darling?” He asked, already standing up.

“There’s a bug under a cup in the kitchen… can you get rid of it? Please?” Namjoon smirked at your desperate tone.

“Of course I will, darling, but first, let’s negotiate what you will do for me in return.”

“Oppa!” You whined, “Please just get it out of the house! I really hate bugs.”

“If you hate them so much, then surely you’ll be willing to do something to ensure I get rid of them properly.”

“Um… I could… make dinner for us tonight?”

“I’m expecting something a little more than that.”

“…I could give you a ‘thank you’ shoulder massage?”

Namjoon sighed.

“I mean of a sexual nature, darling.”

“Oh!” Your lips formed into a circle as you blushed, and Namjoon was inspired.

“Perhaps you can put those sweet lips of yours-“ he muttered, reaching a finger up to tug your bottom lip downwards, “to use, huh, darling?”

“And you’ll get rid of the bug if I do?” You tried to say, though it was difficult with his finger in your mouth.

“I promise, darling.”

You took a deep breath, steadying yourself, before sinking to your knees. Namjoon smirked. He always got what he wanted in the end.

Jin

“You look so cute like that, jagi.”

You didn’t look at him, tear-filled eyes still fixed on the spider making its way up your blanket. You hadn’t expected much to happen when Jin went to the kitchen to make some more popcorn — after all, what movie night is complete without popcorn? — but you had screamed, bringing him running back into the room when you noticed the spider crawling inexorably towards your face.

You were deeply afraid of spiders. This was one of the first things Jin had learnt about you. He had gallantly offered to get rid of a spider that was on your coat during your first date. You wish he still did those kinds of things.

“Jin, please, please, just get rid of it.” You whispered, prompting Jin to laugh.

“But you look so sweet like this. So scared, it’s adorable. I want to see this face more often.”

You choked on a sob as the spider inched closer to you. It was now less than an inch away.

“Jin, stop being an asshole and just fucking get rid of it!” You yelled suddenly, desperate to get the thing off you. You knew immediately it was the wrong decision when Jin tensed up.

Without another word on his part — the only words spoken by you were frantic apologies and excuses — he strode over and caught the spider in his palm.

“Oh, thank you, thank you, tha-“ Jin stooped your grateful rambling with a sharp glance.

“Now,” he muttered, focusing on the spider in his palms as if he was talking to it. “How shall I use you to punish her for her behaviour?”

You gasped, “No, Jin, please don’t- I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have- Jin please just take it away, please.”

Jin only looked at you and smiled.

Yoongi

You knew flies probably weren’t capable of emotion, but that didn’t stop the fruit fly trapped in the upside down transparent cup you imprisoned it in giving you a baleful glance.

So what? You didn’t like bugs, it wasn’t not a big deal. You just wanted it out of the house.

You strolled into Yoongi’s office where he was deeply focused on his work, headphones covering his ears.

“Babe!” You shouted, but you might as well have said, “I want a divorce!” Because your husband wouldn’t have heard you either way.

Sighing exasperatedly, you moved to the wall and yanked out the power cable connected to his computer. The screen winked off and you watched Yoongi panic for a second, making you feel a bit guilty, before his eyes followed the now-lax power cable and found you standing sheepishly at the end of it.

“What?” He snarled, yanking off his headphones.

“I… uh, there’s a bug. In the kitchen. Under a cup.” With each halting sentence, his glare became more withering. “Could you get rid of it, please?”

He growled, but did get up, stalking towards you and yanking the power cable out of your hand and plugging it back in.

“Since you asked so nicely, I will, but afterwards, I’m coming back here to punish you for disturbing me. Got that, babe?”

Hoseok

“Aish, sunshine, you’re so cute!”

“Hoseok! Please just get it out of- ah it’s coming for me again!” You squealed, hiding behind Hoseok’s body as the moth attempted another dive-bomb. Your boyfriend was hardly suitable cover, given how hard he was laughing.

“I really hate moths! Please just get rid of it.” You whimpered, plastering yourself against Hoseok’s back and he took pity on you, turning around so he could encase you in his arms.

“I’m sorry, sunshine, but you’re just so cute like this! But I shouldn’t have laughed, I’m sorry.”

“It’s ok- AH!” You screamed as you saw the moth come flying straight for you again, your head made an easy target propped up by Hoseok’s shoulder.

You buried your face in his chest and let out a little sob, ignoring the way his shoulders shook in poorly restrained laughter.

“It’s ok, baby, I have an idea!” Hoseok told you, before reaching out to switch off the light. The only light was now provided by the open window through which the sun spilled into the shadowy room. You were just able to discern the shadow of the moth as it darted out.

“Thank you!” You burst out, before covering your boyfriends face in kisses wherever you could reach. “Thank you, thank you, thank you! You’re the best boyfriend in the whole world!”

Hoseok accepted your gratitude with a sunny smile and his own kisses in reply to yours.

“It’s ok baby, but honestly I do feel bad for the moth.”

“What? Why? It kept flying at my face, it was definitely evil.” You insisted, and Hoseok’s grin grew until his eyes turned into crinkled crescents.

“He was probably so confused, he was torn between the brightest, most radiant sun to exist… and some random ball of fire in the sky.”

You were worried the moth might come back, for you were pretty certain your cheeks were glowing so intensely as you blushed that they had just become the brightest thing for miles around.

Jimin

You felt a slight itch on your leg. For a while you ignored it, determined to finish the chapter of the book you were engrossed in, but the itching feeling persisted until, finally, you caved and reached down.

But what met your finger was not smooth skin, but something weird and fuzzy. It was predominantly shock that made you scream when you saw the spider on your leg. You had never really been that scared of bugs, but you certainly hadn’t been expecting one to be chilling out on your ankle.

After the brief moment of shock, you shrugged and brushed it off you. However, that was not going to be the only shock you received. You heard a distant crashing, and then thumping footsteps drawing closer and closer, until the door was thrown open.

“Get off her!” Jimin screeched as he burst into the room, dressed in his pyjamas and bathrobe. He looked around frantically, his body sunken into a karate stance, trying to identify the threat, before realising there was none.

“Baby, are you alright? What happened?” He rushed to you, frantically checking all over your body and ignoring your stream of ‘I’m fine, I’m okay, it was nothing.”

He rushed to the window, wrenching it open and leaning out. For one horrible second, you thought he might throw himself out, but he was only looking around to see if your possible assailant had somehow escaped through there.

“Running away like a coward, huh? I’ll get you! You’ll die for even touching her!” Jimin screamed, even as you tugged desperately on his robe, urging him back inside.

“Jimin, Jimin, Jimin,” You repeated over and over, trying to catch his wild gaze, “It’s ok, it was nothing, no one hurt me, I just got scared by a bug! That’s it!”

“T-that’s it?” Jimin paused, seeming uncertain even as you nodded.

After a moment of stillness, he crumpled, pulling you into him so tightly you could barely breathe.

“Ah, baby! Don’t ever do that again! I was so worried about you! Never let me hear you scream like that again, you understand? My heart can’t take it!”

Taehyung

“It’s not funny!” You cried at Taehyung’s phone as he recorded you with it.

“You’re wrong there, baby, it is very funny!” He crowed, almost dropping his phone in another hoot of laughter as you screamed again. The bug had just crawled onto your forehead.

You were deathly afraid of insects, something that Taehyung had never been afraid to tease you about. Even now, with tears streaming down your face and an expression of betrayal, Taehyung was filming you with glee, probably to use for blackmail material or to put in a photo album to cheer him up when he was down.

“Taehyung, please! You’ve filmed me enough, can’t you just — ah! It moved again! — can you please just get it off me!” You sobbed, and Taehyung sighed deeply and pressed the hand that wasn’t holding his phone against his heart.

“Hearing you plead like that really is the most beautiful thing I have ever heard.” You screamed again, and he smirked. “Apart from your scream, of course.”

“P-please!” You wailed, and it seemed like Taehyung had a change of heart. Still holding up his phone, he moved closer to you and reached up a hand. You felt the bug, which was now inching its way towards your eyebrow, twitch in apprehension.

With one finger, Taehyung reached out and squished the bug against your skin.

“There you go, baby. You’re welcome.”

You screamed again.

“Taehyung! That’s disgusting! I just wanted you to get it off me! Why would you do that?”

“I already told you,” Taehyung smirked, “Your scream is the most beautiful sound I’ve ever heard. I wish I could listen to it all day.”

His laughter chased you as you ran to the bathroom to wash off the mangled remains of bug mashed against your skin.

Jungkook

When Jungkook came home to find you sat on the couch scrolling through Netflix, he was surprised to say the least.

He had texted you to let you know he was going to be stuck at work until the early hours of the morning, and made you promise to go to bed without him so that you would get enough sleep. Now he found you disobeying his orders, but something still puffed up inside him in pleasure, knowing that you didn’t want to go to bed without him.

“I thought I told you to go to bed.” was Jungkook’s greeting. Once you realised he was there — you didn’t see him at first because you were so exhausted — you brightened considerably, getting up from your nest of blankets to hug him. He accepted it, tugging you into his arms for a moment, before pulling back to fix you with a stern glance.

“Princess, you need to get enough sleep.”

“I did try!” You protested, and Jungkook had to stop himself from cooing at your sleepy voice. “There was a fly buzzing around the bedroom and it bothered me so much I had to come out here.”

“A bug was bothering you?” Jungkook glowered, “Not for long, Princess. Don’t worry, I’ll get rid of it for you and then we can go to bed together.”

“My hero!” You giggled, pecking his cheek.

He smiled at you fondly, before advancing to the shut bedroom, a rolled up newspaper as ammunition and a fierce expression on his face. No one messed with his Princess and survived, not even bugs were safe from Jeon Jungkook’s wrath.

#yandere bts #bts fanfiction #bts fanfic #bts imagines #bts scenarios #yandere bangtan #bts fic #yandere bts x reader #bts x reader #bts reactions #yandere jungkook #yandere jungkook x reader #yandere jimin #yandere jimin x reader #yandere taehyung #yandere taehyung x reader #yandere namjoon #yandere namjoon x reader #yandere jin #yandere jin x reader #yandere yoongi #yandere yoongi x reader #yandere hoseok #yandere hoseok x reader #bts #yandere

[robert-c]

The BIG Questions

What is the meaning of Life? Where did the Universe come from? Is there a God and what does He/She/It want (if anything) from me? And more along those lines, are supposedly the big and important questions in life. These are the things I’ve given a lot of thought to, and here’s what I think. Your mileage may vary, but I don’t care, these are my thoughts.

Let’s start with the fact that I do believe that there is a Supreme Being, or Intelligence. I can’t prove it scientifically and I don’t need to. It’s my personal belief, and it probably doesn’t resemble anything others might call God, though I’m OK with that term in casual conversation.

What amazes me is that people think God is somehow the answer to these “big” questions. Let’s begin with where did the universe come from. If they think God created it, that doesn’t answer the question – where did God come from? So their curiosity is very limited. If they say that ‘you can’t ask that sort of question’ then I can only say that they are too fond of and accepting of authority.

The eternal and infinite existence of God, and/or the Universe, is a mind boggling concept, it deserves to be called “awe inspiring”. Add to this thought that God Himself (or Herself) is equally amazed and awed by it; He/She/It doesn’t know where He/She/It came from. In that way we can share a common wonder with a Supreme Being.

Looking for the meaning or purpose of Life has always struck me as a sort of cop out. Guessing about the “meaning of Life, the Universe etc.” presumes that there is one, and maybe there isn’t and if there is, it seems unlikely that proof can be found. So here we are in complete fantasy land, make up whatever feels good, but my advice is don’t take it too seriously. The only life you have any control over is your own, so the main question is ‘what is the purpose of your life’, and that is something you need to decide. Looking anywhere else for it is frankly either an excuse for doing nothing or an attempt to make your own choice seem more important, special and “divine” than it really is.

Of course some people like to exploit this presumption of purpose without proof. It’s like that stupid cliché “everything happens for a reason”. It’s a mish mash of free will and fate/destiny to free the individual from responsibility for their choices whenever it’s convenient. For proof look at how and when people use this phrase; it’s either to subtly rationalize taking no action, or encouraging some action (depending on the speaker’s preference). It’s sometimes used to provide “comfort” (though I have never understood how that would be comforting, except perhaps to those who like to avoid responsibility for their life choices). In this same category are phrases like “there are no coincidences” – used in a similar manner, and always good to create a sense of special and significant meaning to any random event one chooses. If you buy into the idea of a God controlling or influencing human behavior; doesn’t that sound a little boring and pointless? I mean from God’s standpoint it’s like playing a Tic-Tac-Toe game with yourself, and for humans their lives become as meaningless and pointless as the X’s and O’s in that completely predictable game. Then doesn’t God bear the ultimate moral responsibility for pain, suffering and all manner of evil done in the world if He could stop it and doesn’t? Before someone says “we can’t know God’s Plan”, go back at least three sentences.

What’s really pernicious about that “God’s Plan” idea is the corollary that if I knew the “Plan” it would be OK for me to commit mass murder or any number of other heinous acts provided that it fit in with the “Plan”. It’s an invitation to megalomaniacs and fanatics to justify their actions. For all that maybe the serial killer IS part of God’s Plan. Puhleese! This is just more of the same bullshit meant to stifle inquiry and thought in favor of blind belief and obedience.

It isn’t just the rational and scientific absurdity of these phrases I object to, it’s that they are manipulative and dishonest – if someone wants to express their opinion about what someone else should (or shouldn’t) do, or what something means, then they should have the decency and the courage to own the opinion as their own. Don’t cowardly hide behind these meaningless and deliberately vague phrases. They are meaningless and vague because within their own philosophy they are in the province of God, whose mind they say they cannot know, and yet, supposedly they do.

Scientifically, look to the lowest forms of life there is, and it just “is” – life is defined by its reproduction, its attempt to carry on. Anything larger, or grander than that has to be something we (intelligent life forms) make up. There’s nothing wrong with that idea, but we should take the responsibility for choosing to believe it and quit trying to pass them off as those of God or some higher power. Perhaps “I am” is the only Truth (as God is supposed to have said to Moses from the burning bush when asked who He is).

Pretty much by definition, we can’t prove that we know God’s intentions or purposes so all claims that someone has that knowledge are essentially con games. As long as we’re speculating without proof, my guess is that the Universe and Life etc. are God’s way of avoiding mind numbing boredom, but I acknowledge that is just a wild guess and I don’t pretend that it’s absolutely true, or encourage anyone else to believe it.

I think that a rational system of ethics can be developed from some basic principles. Some of it would be obvious; murder, theft, dishonesty etc. should be prohibited if there is to be any society of humans living and working together. I think the rest can be worked out if we keep in mind that we want the maximum amount of freedom of choice, without causing harm to others. Empathy could be the guide to realizing just what actions should be considered immoral. I know that the ethics of shamans and priests derived from the “logic” of their religious beliefs has never resulted in a system that accomplished those objectives for those who didn’t agree with their religion.

I know that despite some genuinely good people in the service of various religions, the primary purposes of any religion are:

to ensure and enforce consistency of belief,  

attract new followers, and

ensure the religion’s survival (at any cost, ultimately including violation of its founding principles, if need be).

I’ll go even further – I believe that early humans were understandably awed by the powers of nature that were beyond their control and developed “religious” beliefs to comfort themselves and/or provide a sense of control. While a few may have been genuine in their belief and concern to help and comfort the tribe, the role of shaman or priest quickly became predominantly a con. It allowed them to avoid the dangers of the hunt and/or conflict with other tribes, all the while retaining a right to a healthy share of the bounty returned by hunters or raiders.

I think that this is still true today. Religions (as in the institutions of churches and their hierarchies) are still too concerned about the three points above. I think that too many religious leaders have found this “calling” an easy way to make money and/or obtain respect and admiration. If you doubt my conclusion ask yourself this simple question: can you honestly imagine the founder of your faith (whether that’s Jesus, Mohammed, Abraham, Buddha or whoever) embracing the present day versions of their beliefs? If you don’t have even a moment’s hesitation in that answer then you have already given up your own critical thinking ability. If it took more than a few moments hesitation then you know that I’m right. The difference between spirituality and religion is like the difference between a real sunset and a black and white photo of one.

One way to see that religion is about power and not about understanding or appreciating the awe and mystery of the Universe, is through the specific rituals and rules that their adherents must follow. It might be circumcision*, dietary restrictions, or dress or anything that will separate the “true believers” from others. These differences are always presented as ways of reminding the believers of their God and their beliefs, but these reminders are more about power, and the people who prescribe these habits. Power is demonstrated by getting people to do things they wouldn’t otherwise be inclined to do on their own. Someone who is truly and constantly in awe of the mystery and majesty that is Life and the Universe, does not need these inconvenient social conventions to remind them. And since they serve to distinguish one set of believers from others, it can hardly be seen as an attempt to embrace everyone as part of the awe and mystery that is the Universe and God.

*There is a contradiction inherent in this practice. Here is a body, supposedly designed by God, to which you are supposed to make modifications. Like it wasn’t perfect to start with, or oh, yes, just as I said, it is done only to separate people by belief by doing something they wouldn’t otherwise think of doing.

In the past I’ve been told that most people aren’t capable of finding their own connection to the spiritual and therefor need religion and its organization. When I’m optimistic about my fellow humans, I think that sells them short. In my more pessimistic moments, I’m inclined to agree. I’m never inclined to agree that the inability of some should be allowed to restrain others, and yet that is always how that seems to turn out. In a brief tilt toward politics, that is why I think it is essential that any truly free society ban all connection between religion and government. Religion being one of the most strongly and personally held beliefs by many, in order to preserve everyone’s right to believe as their conscience dictates, no one’s religious beliefs can be part of the social order of law.

This concept flies right in the face of three of the world’s major faiths. Judaism, Christianity and Islam (which are related like a father, son and nephew) all contain a problematic idea that other religions are somehow an offense. [To be fair, Christianity embraced quite a diversity of belief until the Emperor Constantin made it the official religion of the Roman Empire, at which point it had to have a single system of belief, an ‘orthodoxy’. Judaism, due to being a minority, didn’t try to ban other religious expression outside of ancient Judea. Islam actually recognizes Abraham and Jesus as Prophets of God, but still promotes the idea that it is their way or no way in Jihadist circles.]

If you need a reason to reject such thinking as just a means of control, then consider this: everyone one of these religions, and others, all contain some version of the idea that a “mere mortal, such as man” cannot fully understand the mind of God. That is a “back door” way of admitting that their religion can only be complete with God, and therefore it shouldn’t rule out that there is some room for truth from other religious traditions.

All of the “religious” answers to the “Big” questions boil down to providing “certainty” in what is essentially an uncertain area. That may be comforting for those who are not comfortable with the awesome and unanswerable mysteries of the Universe, but they are a poor substitute for Truth. Taken too far they are dangerous ideas, leading people to surrender their own sense of right and wrong, their own connection with the vast mystery of the Universe to some flawed human being with his/her own agenda.

I don’t expect to know the full Truth, perhaps even after I’m dead, but I do know that all of the churches, religions and preachers who proclaim that they know the whole truth are frauds, and the people who follow them are being played for fools. I know this because the simplest realistic look at the Universe shows us a place much more mysterious and grand than their “explanations”. That, and the fact that the smallest of minds are the ones who need simplistic, absolute answers to everything.

Returning to the theme of personal responsibility, the entire concept of ethics or morality rests upon the assumption of free will. Presuming that is the case, one of the most appalling dictums to come out of religion is the idea that there is something wrong with “playing God”. First it implies there is no free will and that God is in control of everything. That is something we’ve already discussed. When people use this as a caution that decisions have far reaching consequences, I’m basically in agreement. But as a moral prohibition, it’s an indictment of learning, it is insanity, and more of the sort of thing the power hungry, unimaginative, uncreative and frankly unintelligent elements of the human race like to endorse.

EVERY choice we make has the potential to have consequences beyond our understanding or intention. EVERY bit of knowledge we acquire can be used for good or ill. Doing nothing, learning nothing, easing no suffering, would be the only way to avoid running afoul of the dictum “don’t play God”. We already have knowledge with tremendous power to destroy, and if we don’t do ourselves in, we will surely have more in the future. A more rational approach than trying to limit learning, is to accept that more knowledge carries more responsibility. The more intelligent a species becomes, the more it can alter and influence the environment around it, and therefore the fates of other living things. I would hope that all intelligent species would appreciate that knowledge must expand on all fronts (not just, say, weapons). So the questions we should be asking ourselves isn’t whether or not we’re “playing God”, but rather what sort of “gods” are we going to be.

This is precisely where a code of ethics is needed. It needs to be one anchored in reality, and rationally taking into account the widest possible effects of our actions that we can foresee. It is no place for religious rules of conduct that serve only to set us apart from each other, or to remind us of a “God” we can only know through priests and ministers, the self-appointed spokesmen for Him/Her/It.

Finally, one of the biggest questions is what happens, if anything, after our death. I start by acknowledging that belief in some sort of afterlife is essentially a conceit, an ego driven hope that we don’t simply end. It is clear that we are some of the few species on this planet (I include apes, elephants and dolphins and likely more) who understand that death awaits us all. As petty, personal, and egotistical as it may be, it is easy to see why creatures who can see this coming would want to invent some alternative narrative. It comforts both the person facing death and those left behind dealing with the loss of a loved one. But is it true that something survives?

I actually have three answers to this question. The first is that like the flowers of Spring, or a candle flame, I exist for a time and then disappear. For me it would be like going to sleep, but never waking up and having no dreams. I do this every night, with only the blind belief that I will awake to another day. Absent any pain of dying, my mind may know no other experience. And if that is the case, then I will be nowhere to mourn that fact, nowhere to experience that loss, and it is hard to see how that is terrible, unless I dwell on it now, which is a choice I can make or not. As for my loved ones, they will miss the physical contact with me whether or not something of me survives death. And again, that belief is either true or a fantasy, but it’s designed to comfort them.

The second idea is if there is a Supreme Intelligence (Creator of the Universe or something at one with it) then perhaps It remembers everything and in that way I may be a part of something eternal. (With this I include all other possible after life alternatives, including reincarnation, and reconnecting with lost loved ones who have passed on before.)

My third answer is a little more exciting because it is anchored in science. The theory of Quantum Mechanics is very strange for the layman. It predicts things that are in such defiance of “common sense” that most nonscientists just want to dismiss it. Yet it is the best tested scientific theory we have, even better than Einstein’s Relativity. And let’s dismiss “common sense” because it really isn’t very common and experience with the subatomic world isn’t part of anyone’s daily experience.

Among the many things that it says is that information cannot be destroyed. That means that even every atom and subatomic particle’s position cannot be lost. Information includes, every thought, feeling and action everyone has ever had or done. Somewhere, somehow, this information is “out there”. Some distant technology would certainly be able to access this information, and anyone (or anything) that accessed mine, without currently remembering their own, would essentially be me.

Consider this: How do you know that you are you when you wake up? Isn’t it the continuous thread of your memories? And if you woke up and it was totally dark, and you couldn’t even feel yourself, you’d still know or believe that it was you, provided you had that string of memories. Allowing you to make new memories is essentially the same as living, so in that sense you could go on.

So I guess I’m saying that between these alternatives, I’m not particularly fretting about death, other than the means (painful or not).

To be honest, I’m more worried about what idiots in this life are likely to do because of their beliefs than what might or might not be awaiting me after my death. You don’t have to go as far as looking at our technology to find “knowledge” that can be misused for good or ill. The very concept of God has been responsible for torture and loss of life on a huge scale over the entire history of the human race. What’s more, these religious conflicts last longer and typically are more extreme than wars over resources alone. And they all seem to boil down to forcing others into one’s own rituals and beliefs, for little reason other than to avoid having to confront the idea that others believe differently.

To sum it up concisely – I think religion (i.e. churches and similar institutions) to be predominately frauds, promoting the wealth and/or power of their leaders, and at the very least stifling individual spiritual journeys and inquiries in favor of orthodoxy. It is extremely rare that they actually encourage spirituality and individual moral/ethical thought (Unitarian/Universalists would be the only exception I know of). I think spirituality is the sense of awe and mystery one has pursuing those thoughts, all the while knowing that the biggest of the mysteries is essentially unanswerable, even to God; and that is our closest and greatest connection with such an entity.

And lastly, that whatever the “answers” are; our experiences, our actions, the comfort and the hurt that we do, are important because they are real, they matter. My personal “advice” is that instead of trying to figure out which “answers” to the unanswerable we are going to whole heartedly subscribe to, we concentrate more on what we do, and how we treat each other; while trying to see how we might feel if the situation were reversed.

I cannot imagine a better view of the world for a “Creator” to have than that.

If I allow myself to speculate about what is on the mind of God, and what He can do for us, it comes down to this. He is there to provide emotional comfort and strength to face whatever we must endure. We need only to “ask” and get out of our own way. He can provide a new perspective on our problems and the way to deal with people, but again we must get out of our own way. Providing a Universe with free will (or at least the illusion of it) means He doesn’t, and can’t, cure diseases, make you successful, or unsuccessful, and decide when you die. I know this contradicts the idea of God as “All Powerful”, but it is both the only way for God to avoid moral responsibility for all the harm that is done in the world, AND to maintain free will.

There have been times in my life when I was certain that God gave me strength, and advice on how to proceed. But that’s my own personal experience. If everyone just took their own personal experiences as their own, PRIVATE, matter instead of trying to force others to agree, we would solve most of the world’s conflicts. However, that is probably about as fanciful a notion as there is. Live and let live.

#spiritualgrowth #Religion #life after death

[fanfics-of-marvel]

21. “Place your head on my chest” with natsharon

Hey there, anon! Thank you so much for your prompt! ♥

I cannot even imagine how late this request must come. Whoever you are, you most probably had forgotten this blog had ever even existed. Well, anyway, I hope destiny will be funny today and will let you read it nonetheless. And of course I hope it is what you wanted to read.

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Release date: 02/12/20

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Sharon Carter

Summary: After a tough day at work Sharon comes home late beaten. Natasha senses her girlfriend’s distress and soothes her on the couch with cuddles.

Words count: 736

A/N: I’ve never really written f/f fics before, so I hope it’s adequate enough! Heh

Warnings: None!

Requests | Masterlist

I’m not a native English speaker, so there might be spelling or grammatical mistakes.

This fic is my own work, it is not to be re-posted on this site or posted anywhere else without my knowledge and consent!

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Natasha winced at the mash inside the pot. Cooking definitely wasn’t her strength. She put it aside with pure disgust and opened the fridge. A few beers, some olives, a couple of eggs, a little bit of cheese and surprisingly to her a lettuce. She immediately knew what the dinner for tonight would be.

Natasha sat on the stiff couch. She sighed and took a sip of the bitter disgusting fizzy liquid. She winced again and put the beer on the side table with even more disgust. She looked at the wall watch – it was nearly midnight. She wondered where Sharon was.

The next thing Natasha heard was the turning of a key in their lock. But she was a little too drowsy and her reflexes were far away from sharp. She loosely opened her eyes and the light from the lamp above burnt them. She winced and covered her face with her hands in order to protect her eyes.

“Argh, who’s there?” she asked sleepily still covering her eyes.

“A burglar,” a familiar voice replied. “Don’t worry, keep sleeping on the couch. I’ll just rob you and then I’ll go.”

“Very funny, Sharon,” Natasha said and uncovering one of her eyes looked at the watch. It was passing 2 a.m.

“Why aren’t you in bed? It’s late.”

“And why are you coming home so late?” Natasha sat on the couch after realizing her body had slid down the seat. She groaned. Her neck was stiff from the bad posture she had assumed while drowsing on the couch.

“I was busy with my mission,” Sharon replied wearily after a short pause.

Natasha looked at her partner. Sharon looked beaten and completely exhausted. Her hair was messy, her eyes puffy and red, her posture reminded of a hunched over elderly person.

“What happened?” Natasha asked sloppily rubbing her eyes in a desperate try to wake herself up. That beer really hit her hard given the fact she hadn’t eaten anything.

“We just had more work to do,” Sharon replied with a hoarse voice. “That’s all,” then she turned around avoiding Natasha’s eyes and walked to the kitchen pretending to look for dinner.

Natasha got up and slowly waddled after Sharon. She was totally stiff. Her empty stomach growled. She felt both hungry and nauseous.

“Shar,��� it was Natasha’s secret move in approaching Sharon when the latter was reluctant to speak about what obviously was bothering her. She thought it sounded soft, gentle and spoke of a relationship on a higher level. The kind of relationship they had.

“Don’t do it, Natasha,” was the instant reply which Sharon shot out with the speed of light. She was very damn familiar with the nickname “Shar”. And what it was supposed to evoke. “Just don’t, okay?” Sharon said the last words staring directly at Natasha’s eyes and barely keeping her own from becoming two waterfalls.

Natasha backed up. She hated to see her partner in such a state but as a person who often went through it herself she knew what it was like, and how sometimes all you needed was to remain alone with your thoughts.

“Alright… okay,” Natasha whispered giving Sharon all the time she needed. “At least just… at least come on the couch. Sit down. You need to rest.”

After the words were uttered Natasha walked to the couch with a light head. Perhaps it was for the better that Sharon was unwilling to share her problem. Natasha was in no state to provide support at the moment.

With a shy gait Sharon walked to the couch and slowly sat down. She sighed and took a sip of the beer she had taken out of the fridge. Perhaps it was what she needed to help her speak.

“Nat,” she cautiously started. “Something unpleasant happened. Something wrecking,” Natasha sensed the trembling in Sharon’s voice.

“Shhh, you don’t need to say anything now,” Natasha caressed her cheek with extreme gentleness. “Come here. Place your head on my chest.”

With these words Natasha gently pulled Sharon towards her bosoms and laid down on her back. Sharon shove her face at Natasha’s neck and scented her partner’s aroma. It always soothed her.

Natasha tightened her arms around her crushed girlfriend and gave her a long caring forehead kiss. Sharon melted in Natasha’s arms and imperceptibly forgot about all of her demons and drowsed off to the land of the dreams.

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Thank you for reading! If you liked it please react - reply/like/reblog! Your support is appreciated!

This fic is my own work, it is not to be re-posted on this site or posted anywhere else without my knowledge and consent!

#i'm with you till the end of the queue #request #natasha romanoff x sharon carter #natasha x sharon #ask #anonymous #prompt #natasha romanoff and sharon carter #natasha and sharon #natsharon #natasha romanoff #black widow #sharon carter #agent 13 #mcu fanfiction #mcu fanfic #marvel cinematic universe fanfiction #marvel cinematic universe fanfic #marvel fanfiction #marvel fanfic

[xxtha-blog]

So apperently I wrote a oneshot fanfic and forgot about it for almost 2 years

And because it's comedy fucking gold, and also some quality post-comic Ace content, I thought I'd share it with you people here.

Without further adieu, may I present to you

A Casual Encounter With Ace

Ink knew very little of Ace. He had met him once, briefly, in the last moments before his AU disappeared into nothingness, Ace sneaking through the portal Dream had created and slipping away from the destruction of his own home like it was nothing more than an average Saturday. Ink barely had the chance to talk to him, didn’t even know his name, he just knew that there was a flamboyant top hat wearing skeleton that enjoyed stealing things and harassing Dream, prancing around the multiverse and causing chaos with no restrictions. Of course, Ink planned to catch him… eventually… if he hadn’t forgotten… multiple times. But it was Ace who seemed to catch him instead.

  Ink had been sitting in the snow, crouched behind the trees of Underswap, checking up on the stability of the timeline, when he heard a voice behind him. At first, he thought it was Blue, the only one who would know to look for him there, but the accent threw him off. Ink turned slowly, curious, and saw the black and red skeleton leaning against his staff behind him, smiling modestly as he surveyed the rest of the underground as Ink did.

  Ink paused for a second. “Hey– Don’t I know you…?” He tapped a pencil against his chin, working with all his might to remember.

  “Perhaps, dear sir, perhaps indeed, for I am quite popular, simply ask my wonderous fans, who may be reading this right now! Which does remind me, do you ever realize that we transcend not only drawings and comic books, but also code, writing, and animations. It’s quite crazy when you think about it, I mean, just look at you. What? One of the most popular characters in the entire fandom created by a mere teenager! Mind boggling and simply astounding, our existence, both of us in fact, relies only on two simple teenagers bringing us to life.” Ace talked mellifluously, his accent smooth and precise, as though someone had mashed together a French and British accent and added a gay flare to it. He talked incredibly fast, as though to confuse everyone with his slur of words, despite them not being slurred in the slightest.

  Ink stood up, brushing the snow off his sweater. “Wait a second!” He glanced up again his eyes widening. “Aren’t you that magician guy?!”

 Ace tilted his head, intrigued.

   “Aha!” Ink declared in triumph. “I finally found you!”

  “Magician guy is quite vague. And a guy, no, no, dear sir, not at all, I simply am I, an illusionist, a magician, a slight bit insane, but far saner than you, so I must ask for you to be a tad bit more specific for fear I may misinterpret what you wish to say and be unable to reply!” Ace spun his staff around, giving Ink a slight smirk.

  “You’re from that AU- Oh what was it.” Ink spun his hands through the air, churning his memory around. “Magicwhatever, Lucktale, Underchance, Chancyluck, Chance, Chance something, Chancetale-? CHANCETALE!” He put his hands on his hips proudly.

  “A dead name, no?” Ace raised his eye sockets into a quizzical expression.

  “I mean, yeah, but you’re still here, which means you’re screwing up timelines. Which means I gotta stop ya!” With a quick flip of his arm behind his head, Ink pulled his paintbrush out in front of him and pointed it towards Ace.

  “Stop me? Stop me! Oh, how wonderful!” Ace’s eyes lit up as he spun on his heel with glee.

  “You’re supposed to be worried,” Ink pointed out. “Like, oh no he’s going to catch me?! Whatever shall I do! And then I go, heck yeah I’m going to catch you! Because I’ve got a super cool paintbrush!”

  “I dare say you do not.”

  “What do you mean? My paintbrush is awesome, I mean just look at it–" he stopped. "Where’s my paintbrush?” Ink’s hands were empty, his fingers grasping at the cold air around them and nothing more. He wondered if his memory had lapsed again, but he could have sworn he had just been holding it. He reached back only to grasp at the air once more.

  Ace casually spun the paintbrush in his hands, still standing stationary a dozen or so feet away, studying the fine patterns on the metal clasps. “Quite a nice paintbrush, indeed, I do not disagree with that, however, you do not have it, therefore your statement was false.” Without another word, the paintbrush disappeared into thin air, and Ace merely tilted his top hat.

  Ink started to take things a little more seriously, his smile fading. He straightened. “This’ll be interesting.”

  “Oh, tis always interesting when I’m here! Just ask your dear friend Dream!”

  “We’re not really friends,” Ink said with a shrug. “He just happens to be useful sometimes.”

  “Oh my! What wonderful news we have here! I’ll be sure to keep it in mind to use against you so that I can slowly break apart your relationship until you are both mortal enemies in which case I can use your turmoil to my advantage!” He clasped his hands together, smiling softly, before adding, "If need be."

  Ink stared for a second. “You know if you really want to be evil, you shouldn’t announce what you’re going to do out loud.”

  “Evil? No, I’m not evil. Never in my wildest dreams would I ever consider myself to be evil, for that would mean I am profoundly immoral, and although I am profound, immoral I am not. I know precisely what is right and wrong, and good and bad, and have no trouble discerning between the two. I simply choose to do good and choose to do bad based on the situation and outcome it will provide me, and dear sir, it is quite a bore to be simply one or the other, is it not? I mean, you’re one to speak, think of the things you have done and the people you have hurt for your own benefit, quite chaotic indeed, but not evil. Few would call the fabulous Ink evil. Therefore I am not evil. I am just spontaneous, whether that be something pleasant or something disagreeable.”

  “You really do talk a lot,” Ink said, crossing his arms.

  “Tis a showman thing.”

  “Showman?”

  “Oh! Would you like to see a show?!”

  “Not really. I was in the middle of–”

  Ace clapped his hands together cutting Ink off, his staff forming between his palms as he pulled them apart. He twirled his staff like a baton before stamping it down into the snow and pulling his top hat off his head, taking a slight bow before beginning, “A magic show! For the fabulous Encre!”

  Ace began to perform his dazzling illusions. As real as reality, yet as mad as a dream. He swept up beside Ink and before Ink could say a word, slipped his scarf right over his head and turned it a kaleidoscope of brown butterflies. Ink went to protest, but a butterfly zipped over top of his mouth and turned into a brown piece of duct tape. The rest of the butterflies froze, falling to ice cubes on the ground before bursting into tiny glass shards that glimmered with little lights.

  “Butterflies were not meant for the underground! How unfortunate. The terms and conditions said nothing about turning to glass, however! Then again, I did not read them. Alas, now I must clean this all up.” Ace spun back around Ink, standing over top of the pile of glass shards.

  Ink shouted, but his words came out as muffled gibberish. He tried to pull the duct tape off, but it refused to budge. He waved his arms around, exasperated.

  “What’s that dear sir? You wish to see more magic tricks? Well, I wish to perform more as well!” Ace spread his arms out, the glass shards levitating off the ground around him before spinning into a small ball and transforming into a lightbulb above Ace's fingertips. He caught it out of the air, studying it closely, before looking back up at Ink.

  “I would put this above my head and say I do so happen to have an idea, but that would be terribly cliché, would it not?”

  “Mphfffff!”

  “I wholeheartedly agree! I’ll put it inside my mouth instead!”

  Ace slipped the lightbulb between his teeth, smiling deviously.

  “Now dear sir,” he said with zero hindrance, despite the lightbulb clamped between his teeth. “It is a well-known fact that when one puts a lightbulb inside their mouth, it shall go in quite fine and then never ever come out again in one piece! Today I am here to prove that theory wrong and promote the putting of light bulbs in your mouth everywhere!” Ace let out a small laugh before quickly inhaling the lightbulb.

  Ink’s eyes narrowed, giving up his attempts to talk through the duct tape.

  “Where ever has it gone? Ah! I know!” Ace reaches a hand inside his left eye socket and pulls the lightbulb into the place his heart-shaped pupil should have been.

  “And now to turn it on!”

  With a slight flick of his wrist, Ace summoned an egg out of midair, then cracked it against the nearest tree. From the cracked shell sprang a toaster, which Ace caught in his hands as though he had done this many a time. He quickly plugged the toaster into the tree and waited a few seconds, but nothing seemed to happen.

   Ink watched, both baffled and annoyed, only able to express his feelings through a few grunts and shakes of his head. Ink had seen many things over his life, AUs full of nothing but Sanses, characters made of watermelons, atrocious crossovers, but nothing quite as strange as this.

  “Oh, I see what I’m doing wrong! Forgive me, dear sir, I have never used a toaster in my life! I run solely off of white chocolate!” Ace unplugged the toaster from the tree and threw it as far as he could muster. “Farewell, dear toast maker. I shall miss thee.”

  He reached inside the small red pouch on his shirt, barely bigger than a golf ball, and pulled a full sized hair dryer.

  Why do you have a hairdryer?! Ink shouted, his eyes wide, but it simply came out as “Wff duh vu hvv a her dyr?!”

  “For this, dear sir, why else.” Ace put the end of the hairdryer up to his eye and turned it on. It wasn’t plugged into anything, the cord dangling around Ace's ankles. As the hairdryer whirred to life, the light bulb flickered on.

  Ace pulled the hair dryer away, making it disappear into a flurry of little pink sparkles before taking a long bow, one of his eyes now made of a little yellow glowing light bulb.

  Ink clapped sarcastically.

  “Why thank you! Thank you! Truly an amusing time we've had here today!” He pranced over to Ink, patting him on the head twice. When Ink tried to grab him, his entire vision spun around and he was suddenly facing the complete opposite direction.

  “Now, now, that’s no way to treat someone who just performed for you.”

  Ink turned on his heels, looking around for Ace, but he was nowhere to be seen. The piece of duct tape had vanished.

  “Farewell, dear Ink, until you wish for another magic show!”

  The voice came from nowhere and echoed throughout the trees before fading into nothingness. On the ground, there was a small paper card. Ink bent over and picked it up, flipping it open. Inside was a tiny brush, smaller than a thumbtack, taped to the inside of the card with a small heart and delicate cursive handwriting: I believe this belonged to you?

#undertale #chancetale fanfic #chancetale writing #Ace and Ink #Chancetale fic #Fanfic #undertale au #Please dont eat lightbulbs

[i-do-trash-fanfictions]

Thera’s Journal Entry #23

Happy Thanksgiving Everyone!!

I headed onto the Reef as I just finished up adding a few new songs to my playlist. In a minute Scout transmatted me to the ground. I pulled out the lure and equipped mods, just as Crow had shown me weeks ago. I then headed to the Cryptolith (I believe that’s what it’s called) on my sparrow.

Scout never really liked the hunts, but I did, so he didn’t protest. Crow spoke to me over the coms. 

“I don’t think I have to walk you through this one. You’ve been on enough hunts to know what you’re doing.” Crow said.

“So what do we talk about while I’m taking care of these guys?” I said as I placed the lure and the Fallen started to show up beside the large Servitor.

“Any new adventures on Europa?” He asked. He usually did ask about my adventures. Whether it be one from the past or one I did recently.

“Well, took down another member of House Salvation. She wanted to ‘resurrect’ Eramis. She said that when she came back she would be a god. Whatever that means.”

“Well I’m sure anyone that does bring Eramis back again, you’ll be able to put her back into the grave just as fast.”

I laughed. “I sure hope so.”

The Servitor disappeared and I started to track it. Scout made my Sparrow appear and I carried on with the hunt.

“Do you think Gunslinger would be fitting for me?” Crow asked.

“Maybe. I think you’d be good with the agility of it all. The jumping, the knife throwing and all that.”

“Perhaps I will practice that subclass.”

“Alright, I’m about to find this guy. I’m switching off the coms so I can concentrate.”

“Don’t you mean so you can play your music without getting interrupted? Either way, I wish you luck.”

The coms turned off and Scout started up my playlist. The first song to come on was ‘Don’t Fear The Reaper’. I switched from my shotgun to Riskrunner and made my way to the Servitor.

I placed the lure once again at the Cryptolith and took a step back as the Servitor appeared. I began to shoot Riskrunner and in just a few minutes the Servitor was down and in it’s place, a Heavy Shank.

I fought past the Fallen to break through the Shank’s defenses. Once I had killed the two Fallen which provided the barrier I shot past them in just a few seconds. I threw my super, which was still Stasis (Silence and Squall), and it did a lot of damage. The shield came back up and I took care of it again. This went on for some time, until finally I took the wrathborn down.

Scout stopped the music and I opened up coms again.

“Piece of cake.” I stated.

Crow chuckled. “It always is for you.”

“I have something for you, actually. Since thanksgiving is today, and I know a lot of Guardians still celebrate it, I made you something.”

“I can’t wait.”

I had Scout fast travel me close to Spider’s hideout and I headed in to where Crow stayed. He turned when he heard me walk in and smiled.

“So what is it you’ve made?”

Scout transmatted a pie into my hands, the top covered with tinfoil.

“Pumpkin pie. I make it every year for myself and thought you might like your own.” I pulled the tinfoil off and handed it too him. There was already a fork and knife inside.

“Would you like to stay and eat a slice with me?” He asked as he cut himself a slice.

“I don’t see why not. After this I’m heading back to the Tower to have dinner with Ann. She’s handling a lot of the cooking.”

Scout transmatted two plates and another fork. Crow put his slice on his own plate and I cut mine and did the same. He took a bite.

“This is really good.” He took another. “You made this yourself?”

“Yep. Every year I make it. I thought since this was your first thanksgiving I should make you one.”

“Well, thank you. I wish I could go to the Tower to join you for dinner but I don’t want to risk Spider thinking it’s-”

“I know.”

He sighed.

“But thank you though. And, uh, happy Thanksgiving.

“Same for you.” I finished up the pie and left my plate on his worktable. “If there are any leftovers, would you be interested in me bringing them over tomorrow?”

“Sure.”

“Well, I had better head back to the Tower. Enjoy the rest of the pie. Happy Thanksgiving!”

Scout transmatted me to the Queen of Hearts and I took a seat in the pilot’s chair, a smile on my face.

“That certainly made his day. I’m glad you did that.” Scout told me.

“Yeah. It was a lot of work to make a second pie, but it was worth it. Crow doesn’t get enough kindness.”

“I wish there wasn’t that bomb in Glint. Then he would have been able to join us without a worry.”

“Yeah, but Ikora and Zavala and everyone else still don’t know. There’s that chance that they’d find out about it.”

“At least you’re going to bring him the leftovers.”

“Yeah. I’ll try not to eat to much. Then I can head over after dinner with Ann and have supper with him.”

“He would enjoy that a lot.”

“I know he would.” I switched on the coms with Ann. “Hey, how’s dinner going?”

“Going well. Turkey’s about done, I finally got the whipped cream from that warlock delivered, mashed potatoes are done, dressing just got done. I think we’re just about ready.”

“Great. I’m heading over now.”

“Did Crow enjoy the pie?”

“He loved it. I’m hoping to bring him some leftovers after dinner since he can’t join us.”

“Of course.” I heard the oven beep in the background. “All right, that’s the turkey.”

“I’ll let you go do that. I’ll be there in a few minutes.”

“See you then.”

#destiny 2 #destiny #destiny guardians #destiny game #theras journal entries

[fuwafuwamedb]

The King and His Tot (Hakuno, Caster Gilgamesh, Gudako)

They couldn’t… take the two from Chaldea.

That was what Gudako had told her simply as the alarms had gone off and everyone had started running. Gudako had found out the location and Hakuno had recognized the name immediately.

“I can be backup!”

“You have an infant.”

Hakuno shrugged, holding the little one in her arms. “I’ll strap him to my back.”

“You’ll- Oh my god, do you even hear yourself?” Gudako motioned Mash ahead, shaking her head more. “I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that. The whole area will be a danger.”

“I’ve learned more Sumerian than you could ever hope to know.”

“Okay… Rayshift has a translation thing.” Gudako waved her hand, pushing her after a second towards the couch. “Go. Lay down. Do not go near my rayshift room. You’re an honorary Chaldean, but you don’t get to go rayshifting. I’m not explaining to baby goldeen why mommy decided to go galavanting into a singularity when he was a tiny tot.”

She rushed out a moment later.

Everyone was so busy running around that she couldn’t help but to head in the direction that so many were going. Gudako was chatting with Romani about the singularity, trying to argue about strategy and which servants to keep on deck for coming over. She glanced towards the room.

Six months ago, she’d been found and brought here. The only thing she knew for sure was that she had a necklace she kept on at all times and the memory of the name Gilgamesh. The doctor, Romani, had found that she was so close to having a child that she’d quickly had her son. Ur-Nungal, she’d decided to name him after a couple weeks.

She’d studied every bit of text she could get her hands on about Gilgamesh. His personality, his appearance, his class as a servant; she’d tried summoning him, but her mana was blocked. No one knew why. She’d scared all of Chaldea by collapsing before they’d found that her mana was being blocked off.

Still, Babylonia meant Uruk. The timeframe that had been said was right.

Gilgamesh would be in the singularity.

Ur was sleeping soundly, easily staying in the harness on her chest. She wrapped her jacket around him just to be safe. The shift was gentle enough, but the climate would be sunny.

As the others came in, Gudako shouted towards the window to crank up the machine. They had to go fast.

Mash was the first to notice her.

Gudako was cursing, trying to stop things when the flash came.

Perhaps it was because she had been outside of the normal area for standing in. Maybe it was because she had been almost against the wall. Maybe it was her mana, since she hadn’t really done much support at all outside of Chaldea. Whatever it was, the others vanished.

The white light and the winds blew passed her, waking up Ur and sending her jacket flying. She had to hold onto the boy as everything went wild.

The shift was supposed to be quick.

That was what she knew about it anyway. Gudako had always described it as a split second action and then a world entirely new around her.

Instead, she was falling with Ur.

A cold chill was running through her veins. She kept her hold firm, not worrying about anything else at the moment except making sure that Ur made it through this journey.

She’d apologize endlessly to Gudako later.

She’d explain herself endlessly to Romani and Da Vinci later.

She would never again step outside her room without an okay or a go ahead from them.

Further and further they went.

Ur was starting to cry, making her coo and soothe him as best she could. She could see those red eyes looking to her, trying to understand what was going on.

And then the world came back.

Or rather, Hakuno found herself tumbling onto a bed. The room was warm, comforting to feel as she sat up and cuddled her son close. The little man was already so bothered, looking around at the strange room and shaking with the threat of a wail. His hands were holding her tightly as well.

“You were so brave,” Hakuno murmured, kissing his head. “My brave, brave little prince. We are taking a small trip, but we’re going to find our friends and go back in a few hours.”

They were in Uruk.

She could see the Sumerian art around the room. It looked like something she’d seen in photos, although the works here were much more colorful and looked new.

First mission: Find Gilgamesh.

She wanted to see him. Was he her enemy? Her friend? Did he know her at all?

If she had this chance, she could stand in his audience chamber for a moment and look up at him. It would give him the chance to see her and exclaim how she knew his name or the chance to make her realize that the name might have been a coincidence. Her son’s eyes and hair could have been from another. Maybe a brother or a relative…

Ur was calming, having seen the sun shine into the room and make the gold around them gleam.

Maybe…

There was a lot of gold in here. Ur never wanted to leave things that interested him. As she cracked open the door to the room, she found a hallway that needed investigating.

She could tiptoe down both ends, come back here, grab her son, and then go whichever way was more promising. She could cover him with a fabric from this room to keep his hair from being seen, take her look, and then leave.

Easy.

Simple.

She did just that with moderate success.

There was another hallway.

She moved quietly, glancing around corners only to pause.

Everyone in this place was dressed differently. Even with the fabrics she’d taken to cover her son and her own clothes, it didn’t provide an inconspicuous enough look to get passed these people. Someone would frown. She might be insulting as well.

Ur wiggled, beginning to wrinkle his nose.

“I’ll set you down for a moment,” Hakuno whispered.

Just a moment. She needed to think.

If she had been given more time, she could have finagled an outfit in Chaldea. These people were big on robes and dresses. She could have managed that. The rooms that she’d seen were a gamble. If she found something that was ceremonial or one in a million, she could be charged with theft.

That was dangerous.

What to do…

“Ur…”

Hakuno looked down only to feel her face drain.

Ur was gone.

No- No, he was waddling. Balanced on his two feet and walking in an almost dangerous manner, he was already around the corner and heading to where the people were. He must have thought this was Chaldea. He was used to the pharaohs and the knights, people who would coo and praise him just at being present.

The Uruk people turned and paused. A few women gasped, the guards that were there were staring at the boy as his golden hair gleamed.

He must have seen something interesting, Hakuno thought in horror, finding her son hustling his pace to get into that audience chamber.

“Ur!”

Hakuno rushed after him, stumbling around people and into the room.

She caught her boy a third into the room, wrapping her arms around him and holding him close. Her lips pressed against his face, earning a soft whine before the boy simply cuddled against her.

“You didn’t tell me that you were starting to walk,” Hakuno complained gently. “You’re going to give me a heart attack.”

“Ummumm…”

“Shhh, we need to leave.”

This was foolish. She could find Gudako first, explain, and maybe she would help. Her son being here was a bad plan. Mash and the others could watch him for a moment, couldn’t they?

Somehow, that didn’t feel possible.

“Ummum!”

“What is it?” Hakuno looked down at the boy. “What’s wrong?”

“Umm,” the boy waved his hand in another direction as someone cleared their throat.

Her gaze followed that hand, all the way to the man sitting on the throne.

Adorned in few and far between attire, a man of blond hair sat in the center of the seat. His legs were both pressed to the floor, his body leaning forward. The turban on his head held two horns that gleamed slightly in the light. The gold necklace bore chains that held onto his vest, no doubt there due to needing to keep him dressed. His pants held holes and his chest was exposed, leaving little to the imagination.

It was the gaze that held the most of her attention though.

That piercing red gaze was like a snake’s, looking between her and Ur. It froze her to the bone, leaving her unable to speak as her son looked back over to him.

“…What is this?”

I know that voice.

Her whole body hurt. Something was making her head feel like it was suffering through a deep migraine or trying to split in two. She wanted to run. She needed to run.

Ur beamed up at the man, waving his arms both in the man’s direction.

“Ah-bum!”

The room couldn’t have gotten any quieter at Ur’s statement.

Before her, the man at the top of all those stairs in that throne simply watched, not daring to even blink.

“HAKUNO!”

The sound of running came her way. Mash’s face blocking her view of the king. She could feel Ur slip from her grip as she found Gudako trying to speak. She tried to grab the boy, but he was crawling towards the stairs, stairs were a pair of slippered feet were walking down.

“Chaldeans!”

The man’s voice was all over the place. Her mind felt like it was in a spin cycle.

“This… is different from what I had foreseen…”

“I don’t understand what’s going on either, my king.” Another’s voice spoke up, closer to her.

“My friend ended up coming with us by mistake. We’ll send her and the boy back quickly.”

“Oh?”

She was fading out. Her eyes looked up as the man from before lingered over her, holding Ur against his chest.

“…Your woman is not going anywhere,” the man told them all simply. “I do believe Merlin and your groups have brought me something of merit. It’s a shame the timing is so poor.”

Her eyes closed.

The last thing she heard was that man’s voice calling for an apsu, the magician doctors.

#drabble #drabbles

[ficsandcatsandficsandcats]

Hey, I was wondering if I could request a fic where Yennefer and Ciri decide to have a girls night with the reader after they notice the readers been a little down when she's been travelling with the gang. perhaps there's a few soft moments where the readers is irritated because she doesn't have any powers like the others do, and so the band groups togther and teaches her a few things and reassure her they're just as important as anyone else. plus bonus Geralt and Jaskier supporting the reader?

Fandom: The Witcher Pairing: Platonic!Yennefer x Reader Word Count: 1,324 Rating: G Taglist:  @heroics-and-heartbreak​ @whatevermonkey​ @mycat-is-mylove @mynamesoundslikesherlock​ @kemmastan​ @magic-multicolored-miracle​ @writingstudent​ @mlleecrivaine​ @coffee-and-stories​ @amirahiddleston​ @ultracolorfulnerdcollection​ @astouract​ @your-not-invisible-to-me @daydreamer-in-training @morelikebyesexual a/n: Yesss supportive female friendships, you love to see it

“Did they say where they’d be going?” you asked, glancing out of the window nervously. Geralt and Jaskier had gone to ‘do things’ a few hours ago and it was getting dark. Ciri glanced at Yennefer from her seat on the floor where she was dutifully mashing berries as Yennefer had instructed but the sorceress looked unconcerned.

“You know Geralt and Jaskier,” she said simply, “They’re off doing something.”

“Yes but what? It’s getting dark, should we be worried?” you asked, turning to face the two women again. Ciri again glanced at Yennefer, this time giving her a pointed look and Yennefer sighed and put down the tincture she’d been working on.

“Alright, they won’t be back tonight. I sent them away,” Yennefer answered.

“Why? Did Geralt do something?”

“No, because we wanted some time alone with you,” the mage replied. You looked between her and Ciri who nodded with a bright smile but something still felt strange.

“Why? I mean, I’m happy about it, but why?”

“Y/N, we’ve noticed something’s wrong and we want to figure out what it is,” Ciri answered plainly before Yennefer could reply. She’d grown tired of the whispering and the hedging, determined that the best plan of action was just to face it head on. You blinked a bit in surprise and Yennefer could see you retreat within yourself.

“Oh no, I’m fine!” you said in a fake bright voice. Both women gave you disbelieving looks and after a few minutes you crumbled beneath them. “Alright, fine, there has been something on my mind…”

Yennefer patted the space between her and Ciri, moving the bowl of clay she’d gathered. They were developing masks to put on their faces that Yennefer said would help clean their pores and brighten their skin but Ciri only cared about the part where she got to practice foraging and you were happy for the distraction. You took the space between them and sighed.

“It’s just… I don’t really know how I fit in,” you said.

“What do you mean?” Ciri asked.

“Well you I understand. Even if you weren’t Geralt’s Child Surprise you’re clever and brave and you’ve taken to training so easily. And Yennefer, you’re a mage and an amazing one at that. Geralt is a witcher, and even Jaskier provides a service procuring coin and helping people be less afraid of Geralt and keeping our spirits up in general. But then there’s me. And I just… go along with you all,” you replied, eyes downcast to your lap where your fingers fiddled with some mint leaves, crushing them and releasing their cool, soothing scent. Yennefer gently stroked your hair away from your face.

“Is this because of the mine?” she asked gently. Your shoulders slumped a little in remembrance of the incident that had nearly cost you your life, and then in the process of saving you nearly cost Ciri hers.

“What about the mine?” Ciri asked, oblivious to the way you’d been tormenting yourself over putting her in danger, intentional or not.

“You could have died, Ciri, and I couldn’t even do anything to help save you in return for saving me,” you replied. Ciri’s head cocked to the side in confusion and you could see she wanted to argue the point but decided against it, instead clasping one berry-stained hand over yours.

“I’ve almost gotten Geralt killed loads of times,” she replied with a casual shrug, “Sometimes that happens. Or nearly happens. But you didn’t die! And neither did!”

“But what help was I? I can heal but what’s that compared to preventing the need to heal in the first place!” you protested.

“It means a great deal, Y/N,” Yennefer insisted. You opened your mouth to reply but there was a sudden booming knock at the door that made you all jump.

“Are you decent?” a brusque voice asked. Yennefer’s eyes narrowed into a fierce squint and she quickly stood and pulled the door open a crack, fixing Geralt with a stern expression.

“I told you we were having a girls night,” she hissed. He gently nudged her out of the way and continued walking in, Jaskier following closely behind and deftly avoiding the angry mage who slammed the door behind them.

“You’d better have a good reason for crashing our party,” Yennefer said, hands propped on her hips in a way that reminded you of Jaskier and nearly made you giggle.

“Good gods what is that? Are you making potions or something?” Jaskier asked, peering over the various bowls on the ground around you.

“Yes,” Ciri answered flippantly, “A potion to make men disappear. Would you like to try?”

He stuck his tongue out at her and this time you did giggle which seemed to remind Jaskier what they were there to do.

“Ah! Yes! Y/N! I had a theory! Well, Geralt had the start of it and then I fleshed it out. In any case we’ve been thinking about why you’ve been so sad lately – don’t deny it, you have been – and we thought it might be because you’re feeling a little taken for granted,” Jaskier explained.

“Well, actually it’s more that I feel like I’m going to be a liability,” you admitted.

“Told you,” Geralt murmured. Your eyes went to him and he saw a pang of hurt in them, “That you felt that way. Not that you are one. I’ve grown accustomed to having you around.”

“Well calm down Geralt you may overwhelm her with that thrilling declaration of affection,” Jaskier said sarcastically.

“What does any of this have to do with you being here?” Yennefer demanded.

“I wanted to give her this,” Geralt answered, and pulled from beneath his cloak a beautiful bow and quiver of arrows. It was a full-sized bow but not as heavy as you expected as you took it from him, standing up to hold them to the candlelight.

“They’re beautiful,” you breathed, “But I can’t shoot, I’ve never learned.”

“That’s the second part of the gift!” Jaskier said, jumping up to stand by you, “We can teach you how! And then the next time things turn sour you don’t have to fight but you’ll know you can. But, Y/N, please don’t start trying to be a hero, alright? We have Geralt and Ciri and Yennefer for that, I need – we need you to try and keep yourself safe first.”

He said this with uncharacteristic solemnity and you felt the others looking at you in the same way. You were struck by how deeply they cared for you, not only your physical safety but your emotional well-being too. Few travelling parties would have noticed, let alone cared, about one of their member seeming upset. Far fewer would have acted on it to try and figure it out or make it better.

“Thank you,” you said, your voice thick with happy, unshed tears. Jaskier pulled you into a hug that Ciri quickly joined.

“What? No group hug?” Jaskier called over to Geralt and Yennefer.

“I’ll get my hugs at girl’s night. Which it will be again. Now,” Yennefer said with a pointed expression. Jaskier considered arguing but his main goal had been to make you smile and when he looked back at you though there were some tears your eyes were shining brightly and you looked happier than he’d seen you in some time.

“I’m leaving because I want to, not because I’m scared of you,” he sniffed at Yennefer. She rolled her eyes and Geralt nodded towards the door.

“You should be,” Geralt muttered into Jaskier’s ear as they passed and when the door shut behind them all three of you laughed.

“Alright,” you said, heart much lighter than it had been in a while, “What do we do with this stuff?”

“You sit still and let Ciri and me work,” Yennefer demanded, and for once you didn’t fight her, secure in your place in the group and their hearts.

#miyakokurono #Platonic!Yennefer x Reader #reader request #The Witcher #drabbles