#Mirth is maybe my favorite farmer

[softly-savage-mint-yoongi]

Saccharine

from An Adventurer’s Guide to Romance

Part 3 of the series collaboration between myself & @guardians-of-exo​!  Please go check out her blog! Her moodboards are *chef’s kiss*  magnificent and this go around she has listened to all of my ramblings about Won Deuk Kyungsoo in 100 Days My Prince, which I binge watched in a week just to help me write this. If you haven’t seen it yet- go watch it. <3 Pairing: Kyungsoo x reader Rating: Fluff. Nothing too smutty or excessively graphic in this one, lads. Words: 7.2k

“Chanyeol, no,” you immediately protest, frowning at him from across the sparring field. He ducks your jab with the training sword, spinning behind you and using his momentum to make a swing for your exposed back. You bend your torso down and to the left, gracefully avoiding his hit. “Chanyeol, yes,”, he replies with a laugh. The mirth in his voice suits him. Here, in one of his favorite places. Sparring with you, his second-in-command and sisterly figure. Rolling your eyes at him, you continue your dance, “She’s a distraction.” You shake the sweat from your fingers, gripping the smoothed wood of your swords and settling into a defensive stance with both. He comes at you with a grin, smacking his wooden great sword down against your crossed ones over your head. He stares you down, “She’s exactly the focus I need, actually.” The Knight Captain believes he’ll overpower you like this, with his height and weight and giant sword bearing down against you. The expression he mocks you with is wiped off his face when you tilt just enough to the right to slide out from beneath his weight. He used too much trying to force you down; now losing his balance and catching the edge of your swords with the flat side of his just in time to avoid a strike. ______________________________________________________ The following morning after roll call you cannot find your commander anywhere in the barracks or the training yard. You were sure he was with the Prince and even walked up all of those stairs to his majesty’s tower. The guards let you pass easily, because, well, you well outrank any of them except for Chanyeol. You’re disappointed when a knock on the door reveals a sleepy Prince Baekhyun, rubbing the remnants of it from his eyes. “Oh, I’m sorry your majesty,” you say formally, bowing before him. He smiles through his haze at you, knowing behind closed doors those stiff formalities drop altogether. “I thought Knight Captain Chanyeol was with you.” He shakes his head and covers his mouth to yawn, “No, I haven’t seen him since late last night when I got in fr-“ he freezes, realizing where he is and who can hear him. Your eyes widen at him and your frame sags with relief just a little bit when he realizes the nonsense he’s speaking. “Sorry to disturb you, then. I’ll be off,” you bow once more, turning to hunt elsewhere for your leader. When you enter the Medical wards, the Head Physician tells you she hasn’t seen him, either. An hour later, he is found at last. In the kitchens, bothering the Head Chef and flirting with his new assistant while she tries to work. Work, like Chanyeol should be. “Knight Captain Chanyeol,” you say loudly, giving him a stern glare. “I have been looking all over this palace for you!” The Cook’s assistant, a pretty thing, looks between the both of you with wild eyes and a blush staining her cheeks, her fingers wrapped tightly around a whisk of cream in a bowl. The Head Cook himself is watching you silently from the spits, basting a row of pheasants over the fire. There’s just a hint of a smile at the corner of his plush mouth. Chanyeol looks at you with a frown, “I was with Baekhyun!” You sneer at him, pointing a finger at his chest in triumph, “Oh you big fat liar! I just walked all the way up there and heard from him myself that he hasn’t seen you! He was still asleep.” Chanyeol whines lowly, raising to fist the side of his own head, “Ah, shit.” “Come on,” you urge. “I apologize he keeps bothering you, Master Cook,” you comment, bowing slightly before you grab the tall man by the black fabric against his back and drag him from the room. ___________________________________________ That evening, in the comfort of your best friend’s room, you’re sipping wine and slowly picking apart a wheel of cheese between you. “He keeps going to the kitchens and flirting with the new assistant. I don’t think that’s all, either.” The Lady of the Palace smiles at you, “Oh come on now, let him have his fun.” You give her an incredulous stare, “Absolutely not. We have a code of conduct to uphold and a war to fight and he’s going to get into trouble.” “It’s not a war, don’t be so dramatic. Relax a little, I know you’re worried about him but he’s also working really hard. We all are,” she says calmly. Bringing her own cup to her lips briefly, she drinks before continuing, “I’ve seen him in the training yard in the middle of the night several nights in a row.” “Yeah,” you agree. “Because he’s waiting for our troublesome Prince to come clambering back over the walls.” She nods in understanding. There are a select few of you in the palace who know about Prince Baekhyun and his personal mission to save his own people from poverty and famine brought by the Draugers. As they slowly began to run people out of their homes in the lower parts of the kingdom and farms were beginning to be overrun with the undead at night, he took it personally and his father, the King, has his hands tied in the dilemma. The power-hungry Lords in the upper parts of the city, and even some of the working-class citizens, are taking unfair advantage of the homeless farmers and their families moving into the safety of the inner city’s walls. Baekhyun- watchful, observant and daring Baekhyun, who is fair and just and will someday make a great King, takes it upon himself to save them. He watches, or has ears and eyes in the city to watch and listen for him. He knows who is in need and who is not. Having grown up a skilled fighter and a professional at sneaking in and out of the palace since he could walk, he’s been using his skills to make right ever since. His mysterious heroism just started a few weeks ago. It’s a secret you will all take to your graves unless he tells you otherwise. “Anyway,” she says. “I don’t think you should be too hard on him as long as he is doing his job.” You sigh, considering her opinion, “I suppose. But I don’t like that he’s distracting someone else from their work.” She shrugs, “Does Kyungsoo seem bothered by it?” You chew your lip, “I don’t think so. But you know Kyungsoo. He doesn’t get bothered by much, or at least doesn’t speak up about it.” Smiling, you remember his reaction earlier this morning. “He looked to think it was funny that I scolded Chanyeol this morning.” The Lady of the Palace leans forward in her chair, “Oh? How so?” “He smiled at me,” you answer. She sets her goblet on the table between you, “He smiled at you?” “Yes?” you say, tone uncertain now that she’s questioning it. “I’ve never seen him smile at anyone other than Chanyeol,” she surmises, her delicate brows knitting together. She stares blankly at the cheese while she tries to remember a time she may have seen him with that expression. ___________________________________________________ Today, as is becoming a regular annoyance, Chanyeol disappears after roll call in the barracks, leaving you to separate a pair of green soldiers fighting over the last link of sausage at the table. It's still early for the rest of the palace, but you have an inkling he’s in the kitchens again. When you enter with lungs full of hot air to unleash upon him, the monstrous Knight Captain is nowhere to be found. Instead, you’re greeted by the Head Cook himself stirring a pot. The scent of its contents hit your nose and you smile in greeting, “That smells delicious.” Kyungsoo lifts his head at the sound of your voice as if he were expecting someone else. “Would you like to try some? It’s a new recipe and I’m not sure about it,” he says after hesitating for a moment, with eyes flitting across the room until they settle upon your face. Immediately his voice strikes you in an odd way. Its deep and soft tenor equally compare to the scent coming from the pot. You think both are quite lovely. It’s not that you’ve never heard him speak, but you’ve not heard much from his voice other than simple pleasantries or reprimanding words for Chanyeol. You’re shocked and admittedly a little flustered that he so casually offered his spoon to you. His eyes are sincere as he watches you. The spoon is frozen midair- lifted with a bite crested in the shallow pit and waiting. Some of it drips back into the batch below, and you cough. “Ah, no thank you. I’ve already eaten and don’t want to spoil my stomach,” you explain shyly. His eyes fall back to his task immediately. His thick brows furrow as he concentrates on stirring. “Is there something I can help you with then, Lieutenant?” he asks without looking up. Realizing you’d been standing there watching him, you smooth your palms down the front of your tasset, “Oh, right. I was hoping to find the Knight Captain here. Not that I was hoping he was bothering you but I thought maybe this would be a good place to start looking since he disappeared after roll call.” Kyungsoo turns to you and lets his eyes flick to your face again briefly. The faintest smirk is tucked into the corner of his plush lips, “He was here, but he left to help Kennel Master Sehun carry two sacks of bones down to the dogs.” “Good,” you state. When Kyungsoo doesn’t say anything further you feel embarrassed all over again, “Not good that he was here bothering you but good that he’s not being a pest, I mean.” The Head Cook laughs. He smiles fully, making a whispered sound of joy at your awkward floundering, “It’s okay, you don’t have to keep explaining.” You barely understand what he says to you. You’re much too caught up in how nice his full smile is. The way his cheeks rise to make his eyes crinkle and his lips split into a heart shape that shows his teeth. “Right then,” you gasp, blinking twice. On the walk down to the kennels, your brain wonders about Kyungsoo and how unlike him it is to talk or smile. You wonder if perhaps he has always been that way but you never had the chance to see it. Now that you recall, there was always someone else holding everyone’s attention with a story or a joke. Perhaps this color on him looks so nice that you want to explore it. Now that your commander has reason to go to the kitchens constantly, it mean that you also now have a reason to frequent them in chase of him. To yourself, you admit that maybe it isn’t such a bad thing if it means you get to see Kyungsoo smile more. __________________________________________________ Two days later you’re awoken by a loud clanging from outside your chamber in the middle of the night. You jolt upright, immediately swinging open your door to investigate, but there isn’t a soul in the corridor or outside when you peek into the training yard. Quietly, you open doors to look into the two rooms immediately beside yours, but there is nobody other than heavily sleeping soldiers in bunks. The moment your fingertips brush the iron ring of your own door handle, the faint sound of feet hitting the stone makes your head turn sharply to squint into the darkness. The footfalls are heavy and flat, easily distinguished to know the person is barefoot. The figure passes by one of the windows looking into the training yard, and the blue moonlight gives you a flash of shaggy silver hair and a sharp jaw. A preview of the naked, broad shoulders that come to stop in front of you. “Why are you standing out here?” Chanyeol asks. His voice is not yet roughened from sleep, and even the moon does him no favors to hide the circles beneath his eyes tonight. You look behind you once. “A loud noise woke me up,” you explain. He nods, turning his lips into a deep line that puts dimples in his cheeks. “Sorry about that. I stepped into a bucket,” he sighs. Then adds, “I’m glad you’re awake though. I’ve got orders for you.” _________________________________________________ While you didn’t sleep well, you manage to make it through roll call without taking anyone’s metaphorical heads, and your brotherly Knight Captain was surprisingly present. In six days you’re leaving for a mission, orders directly from the King himself. According to what your commander told you, there’s an Apothecary coming to town to assist in healing those in need from the Draugers. With something as valuable as medical supplies and another set of healing hands, there’s worry it could be dangerous, so he wants the Apothecary well-guarded. During lunch, you catch the scent of something familiar. At the sight of the soup in your bowl, you realize it’s the new recipe Kyungsoo had asked you if you’d like to try earlier in the week. Smiling, you lift the first bite to your lips. From the taste and texture, you consider the broth has a heavier flavor. Something smoked and savory, soaking well into the chunks of potato throughout. There is just a little too much black pepper for your preference, but it does not take away from the dish overall. Still curious at the meals end, you find yourself walking into the kitchens. The Head Cook is balancing a ladle on the edge of a table when you enter. He looks up and gives you a small smile. “Did you eat well?” he asks calmly. You grin at him in return, “Are you awaiting my review of your not-so-sure soup?” You both laugh at the name you’ve given it, but Kyungsoo says nothing else. “It was very good. A little too much pepper for me personally, but that doesn’t really make or break it. What did you put in it to make that deep flavor though? Surely there were no heavy meats in my bowl,” you wonder aloud, leaning to rest your bum against the side of the large stone fireplace. Kyungsoo smirks, crossing in front of you to collect a jar from the shelf hanging above the largest work table in the center of the room. He unties the lid and comes back to you, stepping close to hold the jar beneath your nose. His wide eyes don’t miss anything as they watch you inhale the scent with closed eyes. “Yes, that’s it,” you clarify, eyes popping open brightly. The Head Cook smiles, “It’s a secret.” Your mouth drops into a pouted frown, “Oh.” His lips split into that full smile again, and it makes your breath catch. “I’ll tell you on one condition,” he whispers. You perk up again, looking around the wide expanse of the empty room. “I need an honest opinion of new recipes,” he says quietly. Those big brown eyes of his are still staring into you innocently, and it is a gaze you feel comfort in. Confused, you ask, “Why not Chanyeol?” to which Kyungsoo scoffs. “There are a multitude of reasons why,” he quips, and you can’t help but agree and laugh when you think about it. “Deal,” you comply happily, taking his hand in yours and forcing him to shake. “Beef drippings,” Kyungsoo divulges immediately. It takes you a moment to realize what he’s talking about. “Oh. I wouldn’t have thought of that,” you answer, knitting your brows and considering the taste. After a moment of silence, Kyungsoo clears his throat, “That tickles. May I have my hand back, please?” Shocked, you realize you’d never let go of his hand, idling running your fingers around the callouses on his palm while you thought about the not-so-sure soup. You drop it as if it had burned you, rising to your feet in embarrassment and excusing yourself too quickly from the room. ______________________________________________ The following day you eat with the rest of your squad in the mess hall. Your plate differs from the rest of the soldiers dining. One of them leans over when you sit, his chin flicking toward your plate of greens, fruits and nuts. He asks, “You on a diet or something, Lieutenant?” You laugh loudly at his remark, waving a hand in front of your face, “Yes! Yes, I am. That’s why it’s different!”

He grunts, leaning back to his own plate of light meats and sops. The colorful assortment of food on your plate doesn’t gain any further attention as you pour the wine-colored vinaigrette over the greens and assess the flavors as you chew the first bite. You feel a sense of push and pull between wanting to eat quickly so you can meet with Kyungsoo about this food and watch him light up with your praise, and wanting to savor every bite slowly to truly examine the taste. __________________________________________ Two days later you enter the kitchens with a brief knock. The aroma of honeyed glaze fills your lungs, exhaling with a delighted sigh. There’s an excitement in your step as your eyes look for Kyungsoo, stopping short when they land on his assistant standing in front of you. She looks bewildered by your presence and a little confused, turning to the Head Cook. “Ah, I’m sorry,” you begin. “I was looking for Knight Captain Chanyeol. I thought he might be here begging for food-“ you explain too quickly. Kyungsoo moves away from the hot kettles, wiping his brow as he grins at you, knowing very well that you know precisely where he is, and that couldn’t possibly be the reason you’re here. He pats his assistant on the shoulder warmly. “Good day, Lieutenant. Thankfully, he hasn’t,” he says calmly, pausing to add. “But I’m sure he’ll show up later.” The question lacing his statement is one that cracks a smile on your own face, earning him the dusty rose that rises to your cheeks. Suddenly, the assistant murmurs a curse and rushes to a kettle as its contents try to boil over the sides. Her action breaks the bit of unspoken words between you and the handsome Head Cook quickly. You pat your tasset down against your thighs with a smile, “Right. I’ll take my leave then. I’m sorry I disturbed your work, Master Cook.” You’re sure to smile warmly at his assistant as well before you turn to leave the room completely. An hour later you return to the kitchens as nonchalantly as possible, first peeking through the crack in the door to make sure Kyungsoo is alone. There’s a voice singing softly coming from the room, and you stop to listen when you realize it’s the Cook himself. You watch the hard plane of his back as he works, bent over the pork he was roasting in honeyed glaze earlier, singing the ballads of Red Run Keep and the Age of Oppression. His voice is soothing to your ears, more pleasant than the scent of the honey glazed meat he slices evenly and plates for Supper tonight. You enter the room as quietly as possible, sneaking in to lean back against the edge of a table along the wall while you listen. He turns around not long after you’ve settled, remaining calm rather than jumping like you would expect. His eyes lift from his work to your frame. “Is there something you needed, Lieutenant?” he asks. You laugh, “Yes, actually.” “Good. I hope you’re not trying to be a distraction just like your commander,” he jests, but it makes you freeze, feeling like you’ve been struck, and a little self-conscious regardless of the joke. Your smile falls from your lips a fraction, and Kyungsoo’s eyes don’t miss the way you wilt. “I was joking. I enjoy your company, no matter the reason,” he states clearly while he busies himself washing and drying his hands. “I have a mission,” you get to the point. He slows his movements, thick brows knitting together as he dries the last of the water from his hands with the rag tied to his smock. “I leave in two days.” “Can I ask what for?” he inquires, coming to stand beside you, leaning against the same table. You nod, “The King has hired a new Apothecary to help with the wounded. I’m leading a squad to fetch him and bring him here safely.” Kyungsoo nods, “He doesn’t want Chanyeol to go?” With a sigh, you confirm, “We all know Chanyeol’s main focus in the Prince. He can’t go and leave Baekhyun unguarded. Do you doubt my abilities, Master Cook?” His innocent gaze whips to your face immediately, full of surprise. Your eyes pierce through his gaze as if they were your swords themselves. “No, not at all. I’ve heard the stories. I know you’re more than capable,” he assures you. You squint at him, discerning the color of blush tinting his cheeks and the tips of his ears. “Good,” you surmise with an air of absolute finality. Kyungsoo seems to notice the tension in your posture and the way your attitude shifts to one of authority. “What do you need from me?” he asks politely, standing to his full height again. You bring a finger to tap against your lips twice, “I wanted to let you know. I hope you can wait a few days to make any new recipes.” You feel a little sullen, still self-conscious about whether or not the handsome man was really telling a joke. Kyungsoo folds his arms across his chest, bringing one hand to wipe at his chin thoughtfully, “I suppose I can wait. I appreciate you letting me know.” ________________________________________________ “I can’t believe he said such a thing,” says the Lady of the Palace. She twirls a goblet of wine between her fingers, gently swirling its contents with her wrist. You tear off a bite of crusted bread with your teeth from the piece in your hand, “It is what it is.” She sets her cup down, clapping her hands excitedly as she sits up straight and fixes you with a devilish smirk, “I know! You should go on a date with Sehun!” You choke on the dry crumbs of bread in your mouth, gasping briefly in shock. “What are you on about? Why would I do that?” you sputter, taking a full swallow of wine from your cup. You wince from the sour bitterness as it slides down your throat. The Lady of the Palace laughs cheerfully, “Oh, come on, Y/N! He thinks you’re amazing. Especially how well you handle a sword! If Kyungsoo likes you the same way you like him, it should make him jealous.” She wiggles her perfectly manicured brows at you. Sinking further in the velvet chair, you shake your head with a scowl, “No. It’s a waste of time. I’m not interested in the Kennel Master like that.” “But Sehun-“ she tries, pouting at you from under her lashes as she sips at the wine in her glass. “I said no. Chanyeol is bad enough with his lovestruck puppy eyes. I don’t want to be compared to that any more than I already have been,” you warn. She clicks her tongue at you, “You’re right, okay? I get it. But it’s, ah… how to put this?” She considers, breaking a chunk of bread from the loaf between you. “Those feelings won’t go away so easily. It’s better not to resist them.” You deadpan, staring at her like there’s an extra head sprouting from her shoulders. She smiles at the bread, toying with it in her hand softly before she pops it into her mouth. When she swallows, she looks at you again, “That’s why you should go out with Sehun.” You groan aloud, “You’re insatiable.” “No, I just think it would be fun to double date with Junmyeon and I,” she clarifies with her strong air of dignity. “Fun isn’t something you normally have time for,” you comment with as much snark as you can muster. She smiles, tilting her head to one side briefly, “Correction- fun isn’t something I thought I had time for. Now that I’m having it, I can definitely see how much I actually needed it, and I for one am quite confident I can manage my duties and my romance, thank you.” She clears her throat, sitting up a little straighter. You roll your eyes dramatically at her, “I’ll admit he’s handsome, is that what you wanted?” Her lips stretch into a menacing smile, and it scares you a little how unlike her it looks across her face. “It’s a start. Now I only must get you to agree to a date with him,” she tells you honestly. You laugh at her boldness. She’s always been a terrifyingly smart tactician. She must be, to be the Lady of the Palace, and she runs the place with a kind but firm fist. You smile fondly at her because she’s your friend and you enjoy the relationship you two have as the most influential women in the palace. With her mind and knowledge of how to run a kingdom and your and power and leadership in war, you make a powerful combination. _________________________________________________ Uncertain whether it was the wine or your scuffed pride you ultimately, reluctantly, agreed to go on one outing- not a date- with the Kennel Master of the palace, along with your friend and her lover. In this moment, two evenings later, you feel strange as you walk back to the palace in silence. Two pairs of boots in unmatched pace walking along the wet road beneath the lamplight. It is hot and muggy and the dress you’re wearing is irritatingly itchy. Of course your dear, lovely, well-mannered and closest friend decided to go back to the Bakery with Junmyeon when you mentioned the hour and that you were leaving for a mission in the morning. Kindly, Sehun had agreed to walk you back. It is with a sigh of relief that the palace walls come into view. You cross under the iron gate in silence, turning to acknowledge the man giving you six feet of space. “Look, Sehun,” you begin with your best smile. He removes one of his hands from the pockets of his trousers, holding the palm flat up and smiling so hard that his eyes crinkle into half-moons and his cheeks dimple, “It’s okay, Y/N.” He laughs after, rubbing the same hand against the back of his neck and looking toward the ground. His hair is slicked back from his forehead, a style that compliments his features. “You’re very handsome, but I’m sorry, I don’t think I feel that way about you,” you apologize, feeling awkward. He laughs again, and the sound of it makes you feel a little better, “Yeah, I mean, I think you’re really amazing, but I agree. I think we’d be better as friends.” The weight and sticky feeling of the tension dissipates immediately after he says it. “I am happy with friends,” you say. “Half of this is Junmyeon’s fault anyway,” he laughs some more. “Always fussing at me about wanting grandchildren soon.” You laugh with him, aghast at his best friend’s antics. “The Lady pushed me into it, too,” you nod with a smile. “I’m glad we can agree they’re both terrible friends to have.” He looks at your face genuinely, “Guess we’re just going to have to be better friends to each other than they are to us, then, hm?” He steps closer to you to whisper the words, sticking out his pinky to link with yours. Craning your neck up to his face and then back down to his hand, you twist your own small digit around his, shaking them firmly with a small giggle. “Goodnight, Y/N,” he quietly comments, stepping back. You move toward the steps of the palace, sending him the same well wishes for a good night with a wave. He gives you a friendly one in return as he turns and enters the Kennel House. ________________________________________________ Yawning, you reach for your canteen, frowning while you drink sparingly from the bladder of it. You’ve ridden North for nearly twelve hours. Your thighs remind you achingly that the short break you took half way through was not nearly long enough. The map you checked twenty minutes ago told you another two kilometers would put you where you need to be, in a tiny settlement in the Sweetwoods. Although you’ve never seen it with your own eyes, you’ve been told such a name fits the landscape, in a forest surrounded by good soil full of sweet smelling wildflowers. As long as you reach it and make camp before nightfall you won’t be as worried. Nothing a full stomach and a few slim hours of sleep can’t fix for you. You’ve certainly fought and survived on worse. Lost in your thoughts, you don’t realize as the sun begins to glow deeper shades of ruby and kiss the horizon. When you notice, it’s because a heavy log gate comes into view, crested between two greater beams that end and begin the sentry walls surrounding the Sweetwoods settlement. Smiling up at the men along the ramparts, you pass through the gates, leading your troop into the small town. There aren’t many buildings or people around, but the working-class people give you odd looks as you go. Sometimes you wonder if it’s because of the troop at large, or if it’s just you in particular. Being a woman in a militant leadership role is not common practice in many places. Raising a hand, you slow everyone to a halt in front of a two story building with a golden ram’s head sign hanging from the banister of the second level. Dismounting your horse, you know this is the right place. The creaking of the door hinges is almost hidden by the sound of the bell chiming upon your entrance. “I’ll be right out!” calls a voice. You note the crates and barrels and packages wrapped in fabrics and chord in the center of the room. The barren shelves and cabinets confirm this is the right place. “Ah,” the voice projects, pulling your gaze to the left. “You must be here to fetch me.” A young man stands in the doorway to a small room off the side of the main space, one arm lifting the curtain draped across the threshold as he enters. He pushes his glasses up higher on the bridge of his nose and stops in front of you with an outstretched hand. Shaking it, you smile a tad brighter, “Yes, sir. My name is Lieutenant Y/N. I’m here to ensure you and your things make the journey safely.” He nods in understanding, “Wonderful. What is the plan, Lieutenant?” Getting straight to business, you brief him kindly, “Rest tonight. We’ve ridden a whole day’s ride. The soldiers and horses are tired and hungry. We’ll load up your supplies tonight after supper, and head out at dawn.” Smiling, he gestures to the back wall, “There’s space to make camp just around back in the yard. It’s a little small, I hope you won’t mind.” Shaking your head, you agree to his offer, “I’m sure it will do just fine, thank you.” Ten minutes later, you’re hissing as your thighs protest to your position when you finally settle on the ground behind the shop. You ensured the horses were turned out in the grass and your soldiers were settling in for a well-earned supper before you sat down. Someone has started a new fire with the half-burned logs in the pit. Opening your pack, you notice a small bag that hadn’t been there when you’d packed it before passing it off to the stable keep to put on your horse, Fox. With furrowed brows, you inspect it’s contents. There’s a small bit of folded parchment and two delicious looking apples inside the small canvas pouch. There are words scribbled neatly on the parchment. ‘These are Spring Dragon apples. Rare, beautiful and delicious… Please eat well and come back safely. -K.’ Blushing, you shove the note back into your pack and whip your head up wildly out of embarrassment. Someone could have seen! Not only that, but your rising feelings for the sender of this gift pull at your heartstrings. The blow your pride had taken from him forgotten in the wake of his gesture. You remove one from the sack, cradling it in your palm as you watch the fire’s glow glint off the shining skin. Smiling, the first bite is taken gently, with your breath held in your lungs. There’s a refreshing flow of juice into your mouth and the satisfying crack of fruit as it breaks off from the body of the apple. Kyungsoo is right, it is the best apple you’ve ever tasted. The texture, flavor, consistency, all perfect scores as it melts in your mouth with a happy hum. The treat disappears from your fingers all too quickly, leaving you to swipe your tongue across your lips repeatedly to taste the addicting sweetness. ____________________________________________ “If I’m not allowed to leave the bed who is supposed to make sure this buffoon stays out of trouble?” you complain loudly. “Hey!” comes Chanyeol offended cry. Even though he wants to, you know he won’t drop you in retaliation of your comment, clutching you to his side as he helps you walk to a bed in the Medical Ward of the palace. The Head Physician pats the linens of the bed she wants you to sit on, “Relax, it’s just for a few days until the bones begin to set. Better than being gone forever, right?” She smiles softly at you, taking an arm to help the Knight Captain lower you comfortably onto the bed. Scowling, you let her get to work wrapping the bruised and painful flesh as gently as she can. Chanyeol stands back, watching her work with his arms crossed over his broad chest. “I’ll get your stirrups adjusted while you’re in here,” Chanyeol mutters without looking at you. His eyes remain unblinking at your leg- a look you know means he’s very much in his thoughts. “Chanyeol it’s fine, don’t worry about-“ you protest quietly. “Absolutely not,” he commands. “I’m not going to risk your leg getting caught again. This could have been so much worse. What if Fox didn’t just spook, hm? What if he threw you off and then dragged you for who knows how long?” “War horses are trained not to do that. I’d have been fi-“ you wave at him nonchalantly, but the flare of his anger makes you flinch. There’s a reason he’s compared to both fire and a monster. “That horse is lucky,” he growls. Frowning, you reach for him and squeeze his forearm when the pain gets a little too intense, wincing. “Please leave Fox alone. It’s not his fault,” you groan. Your commander makes a disapproving clicking sound with his teeth, scoffing at you, “You’re going to be the death of me, you know that, woman?” At least his eyes finally find yours. “Don’t you take that tone with me,” you snap back at him playfully. Just like that you start bickering with him, forgetting about the pain in your leg until the Head Physician stands and sighs, brushing her hands off on her apron. “That’ll do you well for now. Please, Y/N, stay put, yeah?” she asks with a small smile. “I’ll make sure someone brings her something to eat,” Chanyeol comments, turning to leave the room with a nod. His disappears beyond the white curtain draped between your bed and the next. “Just for three days, until the bones start setting. Then we’ll change it and get you set up for light duty only,” she warns you, holding up her index finger between you. Waving dismissively, you shimmy yourself further up the bed and twist, smacking the flat pillow loudly with a sigh, “Fine, yes, yes.” She pauses, narrowing her eyes at you as she considers if you will behave. After a breath, she leaves. Minutes pass in the quiet warmth of the Ward, listening to the quiet groans of other sick and wounded people lying behind curtains in the wide room. Eventually, the door opens and footsteps are heard evenly across the floorboards. Waiting patiently, you’re surprised to see the separation reveal Kyungsoo. He has a plate held between his hands, smiling at you. He shakes his head gently and clicks his tongue at you, “I thought I asked you to come back safely. What part of that meant you should get thrown from your horse?” You grin, raising a hand and wanting to smack him. You don’t, lest he spill all of the food you assume he brought for you. He grins back at you, pulling a stool close to the side of the bed. “Are you hungry?” he asks quietly, balancing the plate on the edge. You try your best to scoot closer to the far side, giving him space to rest the plate beside you. “I am, thank you,” you confirm. He tries not to watch you eat, silently waiting for you to finish the meal. “It’s nothing new this time, sorry,” he apologizes quietly. His hands fidget in his lap as if he doesn’t know what to do with them. “No, this is great,” you assure, raising the last forkful to your lips. Kyungsoo clears his throat, “Can I ask you something?” Blinking at him, you’re a little confused, acquiescing, “What is it?” He turns to face you fully with a hard and thoughtful expression on his face, “Are you and the Kennel Master… seeing each other?” You don’t mean to laugh, but the unexpected question doesn’t give you time to think about your answer as you burst forth in laughter. Kyungsoo only looks at you with wide, confused eyes. “Heavens, no!” you shake your head. “I mean our friends tried to make us date but we’re just friends,” you clarify.

“But he thinks you’re amazing and I thought I saw you with him and-“ the man in front of you questions, clearly befuddled.

You wave your hands in front of you, “Yeah but we both agreed we’re just better as friends. I don’t feel that way about him.”

Kyungsoo’s brows furrow deeper, and his eyes focus on the linens of your bed momentarily before he asks instead, “Is there someone you

do

feel that way about?”

His bold curiosity heats your cheeks and you find yourself unable to speak. Rather, you nod lowly and stare at the last item of food on the plate, an apple. With shining skin, all of the shades between red and gold seemingly painted on with a brush, it is unmistakably the same as the ones he gave you for the mission you just came from.

“Spring Dragon…” you whisper between you, taking the fruit between your fingers and twirling it around to admire how pretty it looks.

Kyungsoo smiles at you, “Did you like them?”

Your eyes light up at his question. “Yes, they’re perfect! Thank you so much for sending them with me. It was a nice surprise,” you praise, pressing your lips to the skin just before you take the first bite.

You practically moan at the taste, choosing to sigh wistfully at the pleasure it brings.

The man beside you chuckles, “Is it really that good?”

Fixing him a stare with one brow turned up, you confirm, “Of course!” adding sarcastically, “Have you never eaten one of these?”

To your shock, he shakes his head, “No, actually I haven’t.”

Gaping at him, you flounder for words, feeling embarrassed and shameful that you’re enjoying his gift like this, “Why not?!” You place the apple back on the plate.

“They’re rare. I don’t have any more,” he comments matter-of-factly.

Curiously, you need to know, “You gave them all to me?”

He nods with a small smile tucked into the corner of his plush lips.

“Please have a taste,” you tell him, looking back down to the apple resting between you. You reach for it, intent on giving it to him, but his fingers circle your wrist to stop you.

When you raise your head to look at him, you’re met with a kiss. One that is unexpected but pleasant and sweet. Kyungsoo moves his lips against yours slowly, truly sampling the flavor of them before pulling away.

You do nothing more than stare at him in shock as he settles back on the stool. There’s a self-satisfied smile gracing those lips that were just pressed deliciously against yours.

“Very sweet,” he surmises gently.

Your fidget with your fingers in your lap, “Why?”

He laughs quietly at your expression and your heart thunders in your ears at how wonderful this image of him makes you feel. “You asked me to have a taste,” he says simply.

Suddenly your heart feels so light it makes it hard to breathe. You need to feel it wildly beating against your sternum, so you do the one thing you know will make it do what you need.

Reaching out, you pull Kyungsoo by the front of his tunic back to you. You plant your lips directly on his, feeling him smile against your mouth as his hand finds your neck.

____________________________________________

It isn’t until two weeks later that Chanyeol finally mentions anything about you and the Head Cook, Kyungsoo. He’s seen you two or three times in the kitchens when he’s come to beg for snacks or see if his own lover is present, but you’ve always been a respectable distance away from Kyungsoo’s grasp.

You suppose it’s easy to break apart from the nectar of his lips when you hear those heavy footfalls and clinking armor growing closer, but that’s not something you’re going to point out to your Knight Captain, either.

“That looks delicious… why did you get something different?” he groans beside you, frowning at his own plate of equally delicious food. It just looks different.

You laugh at him, “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Feigning ignorance, you take a mouthful with closed eyes and a quiet hum of happiness, half way finished already.

When you open them again, Chanyeol is still staring at you, but his fork stabs around the contents on his plate, “No fair… Kyungsoo is playing favorites.”

Although you still have to look up to see his face, you do your best to stick your nose up at him. “Perhaps it is merely thanks for not coming and distracting his assistant every waking hour of the day,” you comment smugly.

He gapes, resting a heavy elbow on the table and motioning towards the kitchens with his now empty fork and a cheek stuffed with food, “You’re worse! You go and distract the Master himself!”

Swallowing your last bite, you lean in close to whisper, “Oh I do a lot more than distract him, Knight Captain.”

You don’t turn around to see the shocked expression on his face when you excuse yourself from the table immediately after, wearing a saccharine smile. All you can tell is that he doesn’t move for a very long time.

#kyungsoo x reader #kyungsoo fluff #exo x reader #exo fluff #exo smut #exo angst #exo fanfiction #kyungsoo fanfiction #kyungsoo fanfic #exo fanfic #exo writers #an adventurer's guide to romance #saccharine #kyungsoo #junmyeon #xiumin #yixing #baekhyun #jongdae #chanyeol #jongin #sehun

[merlinsblueeyes]

Summary: Will and Merlin had always looked forward to the harvest ever since they were little. They got to run around, cheer and holler, sing as loud as they wanted and no one would bat an eye. It was the day when their raucous troublemaking was viewed by the village not as an annoyance, but as part of all the fun. Today was different, though.

**********

Will and Merlin sat on the roof of a house in Ealdor, legs kicking off the side and knees touching ever so slightly. Their faces were illuminated by the golden yellow light of the full moon that greatly contrasted the dark night sky.

The air smelled of a cool night breeze, crisp autumn leaves, and food cooking in the village below. Music played softly from somewhere not too far away. It was the day of harvest in Ealdor when the farmers bring in the crops they’ve been growing all summer and come together to make a feast, with everything ranging from roasted pheasant to sweet desserts. A bonfire is lit and everyone dances and drinks, having one more day of laughter before the weather turns cold and dismal and the crops die out.

Will and Merlin had always looked forward to the harvest ever since they were little. They got to run around, cheer and holler, sing as loud as they wanted and no one would bat an eye. It was the day when their raucous troublemaking was viewed by the village not as an annoyance, but as part of all the fun.

Today was different, though.

A few days ago, Merlin told Will that his mother was thinking about sending him away to Camelot. She had learned that Will knew about Merlin’s magic, and was terrified of what he would do with this information. She was only looking out for her son, but it deeply hurt Will. After all, she was wrong. He would never betray Merlin. Will was his best friend.

They were friends for life, and that wasn’t going to change now. It was the way things had always been. The thought of not having Merlin in his life anymore had really gotten to Will. It burrowed into his mind and wouldn’t leave him alone, no matter how hard he tried to get rid of it. Simply thinking about it put Will into a dejected state, and he no longer felt much like talking, not even to Merlin.

The silence hung heavily between them even on the day of the harvest, putting quite a damper on the carefree and cheerful mood they were normally in. Only a few words had been exchanged during dinner, and they merely watched others participate in festivities as they stood to the side.

Knowing this could very well be the last harvest he spent with Merlin, Will wanted to make it the best one they’ve ever spent together, but he couldn’t.

No matter what he did, it wasn’t going to be what he wanted, and it certainly wasn’t going to change anything.

One good night wouldn’t be enough to say everything Will wanted to say to Merlin.

Besides, it would pale in comparison to the memories they’d created when they were young.

“What are you thinking about?” Merlin’s voice jerked Will back into reality, and he blinked a few times before turning his head to address his friend.

His breath escaped him when he really looked at Merlin for the first time that night. The moonlight hit Merlin’s cheekbones in just the right way, accentuating their sharpness. His deep blue eyes were shining and glittered with the reflection of the millions of stars that decorated the sky. He was almost glowing, his pale skin stark against his raven hair, reminding Will of the moon and the sky.

He realized his gaze lingered a little too long, and he quickly averted his eyes back down to his feet and mumbled, “Oh, I was just thinking about when we were younger, how much fun we’d have at harvests.”

Merlin laughed and leaned to the side to lightly shove Will with his shoulder and joked, “Are you saying we don’t have fun anymore?”

“You know that’s not what I meant,” Will snapped.

Merlin quieted.

The painful silence returned.

“I’m sorry, that came out harsher than I expected,” he sighed. Of course, the mood was finally lightening up and he’d gone and ruined it. “I was just looking back on some good times.” He glanced back up to Merlin. He had a soft smile on his face.

Good; Will hadn’t completely messed things up.

“Any specific moments that come to mind?” Merlin asked and chuckled. Will knew he was partially joking, but he also knew Merlin was curious.

With a yawn, Will stretched his arms over his head and leaned back a little before answering, “Yeah, there are a few things.”

Come a little bit closer

Hear what I have to say

“Will! Wait up!”

“It’s not my fault you’re a slowpoke!”

“Merlin, be careful!” Hunith called from one of the tents set up around the village, piling her plate with meat and carrots. “Don’t fall.”

Will doubled over laughing and pointed his finger at Merlin. “Yeah, be careful sweetie, don’t fall!” Before Merlin could retaliate, Will was already rushing to the table that held all the desserts, leaving Merlin in the dust.

“‘Scuse me, mister,” Will mumbled as he shoved past Old Man Simmons and grabbed the one remaining fruit from a plate, leaving only crumbs behind.

Merlin ran up behind Will, just a second too late. “Will,” he whined, “You took the last one!”

“Again, you’re a slowpoke,” Will giggled and stuck his tongue out.

“Not fair!”

Will smirked, then took his tart and raised it to his mouth to take a bite, but stopped just before he did.

In front of him, Merlin, with his rosy cheeks and ears that stuck out too far, gazed at the tart with eyes that welled with tears. His bottom lip trembled as he watched Will holding the sweet.

Will looked down at the tart, then back up at Merlin. He did this a couple more times, then huffed as he outstretched his arm to his friend.

“Here, you can have it,” he grumbled. “You like them better, anyways.”

Merlin’s eyes widened and he audibly gasped. “You really mean it?”

“Yeah, you clotpole, I mean it.”

With gentle hands, Merlin slowly took the tart from Will, who gave him a small nod of encouragement. Once he had it in his hands, he paused for a moment, then threw his arms around Will and hugged him tightly. “Thank you, Will.”

Although taken aback at first, Will gave into the hug and patted Merlin’s back.

“Yeah, anytime.”

Just like children sleepin'

We could dream this night away

“You’ve always been such a hog,” Merlin teased, earning a chuckle out of Will. “Especially when it comes to desserts.”

Will protested lightheartedly. “Oh come on, you can’t blame a guy for loving sweets, can you? I mean, those tarts John makes are really something else.”

“That’s why they’re my favorite,” Merlin agreed with a smirk on his face. “Did you manage to grab any today? I didn’t really notice; my head was somewhere else.”

“There weren’t any,” Will replied a bit stiffly. “At least none that I saw.”

“Are you sure you looked hard enough?”

“Yeah.”

Merlin’s smirk faded, and he scratched his head then turned away.

Will scolded himself internally for making the situation uncomfortable yet again. He just couldn’t keep his big mouth shut, could he?

He shifted a little, moving the slightest bit away from Merlin, their dangling knees no longer touching. Will didn’t understand why he was being so awkward around Merlin, someone he’d known all his life, his best friend since they were kids. The thought of Merlin leaving saddened him, but that wasn’t the only thing.

It was something different.

He hadn’t felt this way around Merlin before, not really. Well, except for maybe--

“Hey, I just remembered something!” Merlin said, his voice bright.

Will glanced up and met Merlin’s eyes, putting his thoughts on hold for the moment. “What is it?”

“Just another memory from a harvest a few years back.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, and I think you’ll remember this one, too.”

But there's a full moon risin'

Let's go dancin' in the light

The gleeful sound of laughter mixed with the sound of the roaring fire crackling and jovial music playing from villagers with their various instruments.

Will and Merlin skipped around the fire, around and around in circles, giggling and singing out loudly to their hearts’ content. Merlin’s surroundings were a whirling mix of a fiery blaze and bright sparks. There was maybe a flash of a nearby tree or someone passing by, but it was all so blurry, he couldn't tell for sure.

His lungs grew hungry for air and he gulped it in, tasting ash on his tongue.

He was getting out of breath, but he didn’t care. He was having too much fun to notice.

He gripped Will’s hand, slick with sweat, as tightly as he could, then closed his eyes and let his feet carry him wherever they may please. The fire was deafening in his ears and now he really couldn’t tell what was happening around him, but it was perfect that way.

At least, it was until his hand slipped from Will’s and he collided into the body of a much taller person.

‘Oh no,” he heard Will snicker, his voice full of mirth.

That couldn’t mean anything good.

Slowly, Merlin opened his eyes and found himself staring up at the wizened, vexed face of their very own Old Man Simmons. Merlin immediately stumbled back and cursed quietly to himself. Of course, out of everyone in Ealdor, he had to have run into Simmons.

The old man raised his hand, clenched tightly in a fist, and shook it at Merlin., “It’s you, naturally,” he sneered. “It’s always you when there’s trouble in this village. Why can’t you be normal like the rest of us?”

Merlin shrunk back against Will and bit his tongue. He wanted to retaliate but wasn’t going to risk slipping up and saying something about his magic. Instead, Will stepped forward and placed an arm in front of Merlin protectively.

“I’m sorry, sir, but that’s no way to speak to him. I’d say that was rather rude of you,” Will chided. Simmons was growing more and more agitated, and he shot back. “I can speak to the boy however I want to.”

Will straightened and advanced further. His eyes were nearly level with those of Old Man Simmons. He’d gotten tall in the past few years.

“He has a name, and it’s Merlin,” he fired.

Merlin hissed behind him, “Will, just leave it. I’m alright.”

Ignoring his friend, Will continued, “He has every right to be called his name as everyone else here does.”

“Will!”

“Don’t test me, boy.”

He must’ve been deaf, for he only continued to push the subject. “So why don’t you apologize to my friend here, who you so disrespectfully yelled at?”

That was it. Rage boiled in the face of the old man and he yelled at the two of them, waving his arm about wildly, ”Get out of here you little wretches, or you’ll regret it!!”

At that, Will turned on his heels and grabbed Merlin’s wrist, dragging him along as he sprinted into the foggy forest beyond the borders of Ealdor. The rambling shouts of Old Man Simmons rang out in the air behind them, but soon faded, along with the other sounds of the bustling village and the warmth of the fire.  Their feet pounded heavily against the mossy ground and they filled the chilly air with their breath. At some point during the run, Will must’ve let go of Merlin because he was several strides ahead, his long legs carrying him farther.

They ran for a few more minutes until the light from Ealdor could no longer reach them, and they stood alone in the empty woods.

Will leaned against a tree and bent halfway over with his hand on his chest, panting heavily and laughing as well. Merlin fell to the ground, then tilted his head up to the sky, breathing in the clean fresh air.

As soon as he’d caught his breath, he stood up and brushed the muddy dead leaves off his pants. He turned to Will, and their eyes locked. Will began to beam and he burst out into laughter, doubling over yet again. Merlin chuckled a little too, but not as much.

Will, after laughing a bit more, noticed, and asked, “What’s wrong?” He placed a hand on Merlin’s shoulder and ran his eyes over Merlin’s troubled countenance. “Didn’t you see his face? It was priceless.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Merlin agreed, averting his gaze. “But I wasn’t done dancing. I was having a lot of fun.”

Instantly, Will’s features softened. He withdrew his hand from Merlin’s shoulder and chuckled a little. “Oh, Merlin,” he sighed.

“What?”

“You don’t need music to dance, now do you?”

Merlin cocked his head and furrowed his brow. The corner of his mouth raised in a mocking smirk and he queried, “And how exactly does one do that?”

With a gentle and reassuring tone, Will told him, “Take my hand, I’ll show you.”

We know where the music's playin'

Let's go out and feel the night

“And that’s how you taught me to dance,” Merlin finished. “I mean, really dance.”

During the story, Will had relaxed and brought his legs up onto the roof. Merlin had done the same and they sat facing each other, legs crossed and their faces lit up.

Below in the village, people were beginning to head inside for the night. The bonfires were reduced to smoldering embers and a lone musician played his lyre.

Will breathed out in a sort of laugh. He shook his head and replied, “You kept stepping on my feet, and you tried to put your hands on my waist, remember?”

“But we eventually got the hang of it, didn’t we?”

Will nodded half-heartedly and murmured, “I guess we did.”

He remembered it as being one of the best nights of his life, but he wasn’t about to admit that. Not now.

The feeling of Merlin’s sharp eyes watching his every move burned into him, and he tried to shift the conversation elsewhere. He looked at their surroundings for something to talk about. There was the mottled grass below, the dark expanse of forests, tops of the heads of villagers, nothing really noteworthy. Then Will glanced up back at the sky he had been admiring in Merlin’s eyes earlier.

It was just as breathtaking spread out above them; a vast comforting blanket of black, dressed in a canopy of luminescent stars. While it was easy to ignore this dusting of light and instead fixate on the glowing moon that bathed the earth in its warm light, Will knew that the stars are what truly caught Merlin’s fancy.

He lifted one finger and pointed into the sky above.

“There, that’s the bear,” Will said as if Merlin didn’t already know. “You can tell because of the way those three stars right there are connected.”

“You remembered what I taught you last year,” Merlin whispered. Will didn’t need to see him to know that he was smiling.

Ignoring him for now, Will continued, “And past the bear, just north, there’s the hunter.”

But now it's gettin' late

And the moon is climbin' high

“Do you know why they call it that?” Merlin eagerly asked. They lay on the soft yellow grass of a glade in the woods, staring up at the autumn sky above. Before Will even got the chance to make a guess, Merlin was already explaining. “That big star and the little ones below it make it look like a spear!”

“That’s incredible,” Will said, not really listening to anything Merlin said. He was distracted by how attractive Merlin was when he was excited about something. He could listen to Merlin talk for ages about anything. It was worth it just to see him so happy.

“And you know how my mom always says the sky tells you stories?”

“Mhm?”

“She’s right. Right by the hunter is this boar he’s hunting, see and-”

At some point, Merlin’s voice blended into the sound of the wind brushing through the branches of the evergreen trees, and the crickets chirping around them. The sky was incredibly clear that night, and the air smelled of the earthy scent of petrichor.

Merlin had his hand in the air, droning on and on about the story of the hunter. He watched the stars in fascination, unaware that Will was looking someplace else. With his hands resting on his chest, he couldn’t help but turn his head until his cheek was pressed against the ground and he looked straight at Merlin, mere inches apart from each other. The edges of Merlin’s face glowed a honeyed amber with the light of the moon.  His lips moved but Will heard no words from them. He didn’t need to.

If he could spend forever frozen in this one night, he would.

Merlin didn’t need to use his magic for their time spent together to feel enchanting.

The moment was broken when Merlin stopped talking, apparently noticing the lack of engagement in their so-called conversation and turned his head to face Will.

Suddenly they were both staring deep into each other’s eyes. Merlin’s were wide and searching Will’s face, looking for nothing in particular. Will was sure he himself had stilled completely and was gawking directly at his friend. He wasn’t sure how to act. He was taken aback by their sudden closeness, although he did not object to it.

For what felt like an eternity, they lay next to each other on the forest floor, before Merlin sat up and laughed. “You didn’t listen to a word I said, did you?”

Will, in turn, sat up as well and immediately apologized, “I’m sorry, I wanted to listen, but I just got distracted.”

“What, by my pretty face?” Merlin teased, though there was something in his voice that made it sound like he wasn’t completely joking.

A fiery heat shot through Will’s cheeks and his heart began to thump in his chest. “Oh, I didn’t, I wasn’t, I-” he began, but was stopped by Merlin waving him off.

“Don’t worry, I was just kidding,” he said as he stood up. “I know you’re just tired.” He extended his hand out to Will.

Thankful for not having to explain himself, Will chuckled and took Merlin’s hand in his. He was lifted from the ground and came face to face with Merlin again. Will couldn’t help noticing that they were about the same height now. Will had always been the taller one, but now maybe that was going to change.

Things always change.

I want to celebrate

See it shinin' in your eye

And then Will realized.

He realized what he would’ve said that night if Merlin never cut him off, and he realized that if he didn’t say it now, here, on their final harvest before Merlin left him, he would never say it.

Last harvest together, last chance to say it, last chance to finally get it all right.

He’d spent all night being distant and detached, pushing Merlin away in fear of not being able to make the night as good as he wanted it to be, but that was just the problem.

He wasn’t going to get anywhere unless he said something; unless he tried.

Suddenly it all felt right.

Sitting there on the roof under the stars, talking in the light of the full moon, reminiscing on the time they’d spent together over the year, there had never been a better time.  Will was a fool to not have realized this earlier. The crisp night air hung heavy with words unspoken but were on the cusp of being said. The breeze ran through Merlin’s hair, ever so slightly rustling it and his eyes were wide and staring expectantly at Will, waiting for him to say something.

“Merlin,” he began steadily, picking and choosing his next words in his head. He had to find the right way to say this; simply blurting it out wasn’t going to do. His mind ran through certain memories over and over again, trying to find the perfect one. He found himself coming back to a harvest day long ago when they’d been little more than toddlers. He wasn’t sure if Merlin would even remember it, but it was worth a try to bring it up.

Will continued quietly, “There’s one more thing that I was thinking about.”

“What is it?” Merlin asked, and leaned forward slightly.

“We were very young; it’s possible you’ll have no idea what I’m talking about.”

With a lopsided grin, Merlin responded, “Oh come on, I have a great memory. Try me.”

Still hesitant, Will looked up to Merlin’s face, his eyebrows narrowed. “Okay. So, do you remember one year, when we were out by the creek, playing?”

“Go on.”

Shifting a little, Will sighed. He was already blushing, wasn’t he? “Well, my mum had just told me about what being in love was like.”

Merlin’s face stiffened. He was even paler than he had been before and he inhaled sharply. The grin was gone from his face. Oh god. He had messed up. Merlin was going to think he was insane. He should’ve never had said anything in the first place, what was he thinking? He-

“I remember this,” Merlin spoke softly. “Keep going.”

Will’s panicked thoughts came to a halt. Oh. Maybe he still had a chance. “I was just a kid, you know, and I still hadn’t quite grasped the concept.”

“Right.”

“And so I,” he stopped to laugh in attempts to lighten the mood a little, then resumed, “I told you I was in love with you.”

His breath hitched in his throat on the last words. His chest was tight and the anticipation of how Merlin was going to respond to this suffocated him.

The painful silence from earlier that night was back and worse than ever. Merlin just stared at Will with an uninterpretable look on his face. It felt like an eternity that they sat there on the roof, just staring at each other. Will's heart was hammering now. He hadn't even really said it yet and already he was terrified.

Finally, after an agonizing minute, Merlin spoke. "Will, are you trying to say something?" There was genuine concern in his voice. "You seem kinda nervous."

"Ahhh, I don't know," Will started to backtrack. He wasn't sure anymore that this was the right thing to do. "Let's just move on."

Merlin didn't move on. "Actually, you've been off the whole night," he pressed. "Not just this night, too. You've been acting strange ever since I told you my mum was going to send me away to Camelot."

"Merlin, listen-"

"No, you listen," Merlin was growing louder. "If you have something to tell me, Will, please just tell me. You're my best friend and I don't like how weird you've been recently." Will tried protesting and changing the subject again, but to no avail. "Please Will, whatever it is, just tell me."

Blood was rushing in Will's ears, beginning to deafen and overwhelm him. Merlin pushed further and further, begging Will to just tell him.

There were too many noises all around, too much pressure to say it, now no escape from the words just on the tip of his tongue.

Will pulled his face into a tight grimace and blurted out in a brusque manner, "I was right!"

Merlin stopped talking in an instant, freezing mid-sentence. He tilted his head curiously, and through his heavy breathing, asked, tentativeness creeping into his voice, "Right about what?"

Will shut his eyes, not being able to look Merlin in the face as he let it all come tumbling out.

His heart felt like it had stopped beating.

His limbs were made of stone.

His lips were chapped and his throat was dry, but he still poured as much of his soul into his words as he possibly could and croaked. "I was right, okay?”

A pause.

“I’m in love with you."

“Oh.”

“I love you and I was scared that I wasn't going to be able to tell you and I’m so sorry for all of this,” he finished.

There was no pain in the air now, no empty space between them, the confession so heavy it was tangible.

When Will managed to meet Merlin’s gaze, he felt right for the first time that night.

A rosy and twinkling magic washed through him, warming him from head to toe. It filled his lungs with fresh air and soothed his aching heart. On that night under the stars, the same magic had been so strongly present. It had taken Will over and coaxed him into an enchanting dream.

Will hadn’t quite been able to identify the magic before, but tonight he knew.

He knew that it was love, and those two nights weren’t the only times it had been there.

The magic was always in him when he was around Merlin, really. It just came in varying degrees

It was in him when their hands would brush accidentally, when Will looked at Merlin for a few seconds longer than friends should, and even when they were simply in each other’s presence.

Will loved Merlin in every way he could; in his eyes that made Will weak in the knees, in how his ears stuck out, in his kindness to those in the village, in the way Merlin cared about things more than anyone Will had ever known before.

He loved Merlin for his connection to the world surrounding them, for never putting himself first, and for the way he lived.

Will loved Merlin just for being who he was, and the tenderness in Merlin’s softened features and the coy smile on his lips as Merlin stared back at him told Will that Merlin felt the same way.

He didn’t need to hear the words, but Merlin said them anyway.

Placing one gentle hand on Will’s knee, Merlin shook his head and softly laughed. “Will, you don’t know how long I’ve wanted to hear you say that.” He gave a small squeeze to Will’s knee.

“I can’t believe I never said it before,” Will replied breathlessly. “I mean, I’m not sure even if I knew before. Well, I think in a way I always have, but--”

“Hey, it’s alright,” Merlin calmed him. “I don’t need an explanation. Besides, it’s something I’ve been wanting to say for a while now, too.”

Will hoped Merlin couldn’t tell he was blushing under the light of the moon.

His shoulders relaxed and he felt incredibly light after the weight of it all had been lifted off his shoulders.

Merlin knew Will loved him, and Will knew Merlin loved him.

The moment was perfect, but it was fleeting as well, for their situation resurfaced in Will’s mind, along with the reason he’d been so cold. Merlin was leaving him.

“Oh God, it’s not too late is it?” he asked, panicked.

Merlin scrunched his nose, perplexed. “What do you mean?”

“We’ve had our entire lives for this, we’ve had all the time there is in the world,” he explained, “and of course I’m telling you now.”

“Will…” “Merlin,  you said she’s just thinking about it, but you and I both know that she’s really going to send you away.” Will’s voice cracked on the last word. His throat tightened up thinking about everything they’d missed. They could’ve been something, but maybe he waited too long.

They hadn’t even kissed.

A cold hand to his cheek took him out of his head. Merlin was leaning in close now, and he murmured, “It’s not too late.” He ran his thumb over Will’s cheekbone soothingly. Will closed his eyes with a shaky exhale and accepted the comforting touch. Merlin must’ve been even closer now, for his hot breath tickled Will’s ear as he whispered, “Do you hear that?”

Will strained to hear what Merlin may be talking about. Carried by the breeze was the sound of various instruments buzzing with a low and peaceful melody. The lyre player was not so lonely anymore.

“There’s still music, Will. And see up there, above our heads?”

“The moon,” Will responded, not having to open his eyes.

Hair rustled through his own. Merlin was nodding. “Right, so that means there’s still light too.”

Will chuckled and blinked his eyes open. “So the night isn’t over.”

“We still have time to make this our most memorable harvest yet.”

Because I'm still in love with you

I want to see you dance again

In front of a dying fire where the embers still burned bright and not too far from music, Will and Merlin stood across from each other, smiles on their faces and a sense of belonging in their hearts. The golden light from the sky above created dark shadows and dappled the dull grass beneath their feet. It soaked their complexions with warmth, and for the millionth time that night, Will was taken away by Merlin.

He huffed out an admiring laugh and offered an outstretched hand to Merlin, who took it with a sensitive but firm grip. WIll slightly tugged on Merlin’s hand and drew him closer until their faces were in such close proximity that WIll had to turn his head upwards to meet Merlin’s eyes.

He had grown taller.

“Remember how I taught you?” he spoke in a low voice, to which Merlin responded by nodding and cupping his other hand around Will’s waist.

The instant he had, his face turned red and he quickly withdrew it. “Oh, I’m sorry. I did it again.”

Will opened his mouth, planning to tell Merlin it was alright and to continue as normal, but after a moment’s thought, he changed his mind. “It’s alright.’ “Pardon me?” A coy smile tugged at the corner of Merlin’s mouth.

“Don’t be like that,” Will teased. “Go on, just for tonight, you can lead.”

Although Merlin seemed skeptical at first, he obliged and placed both his hands now on Will’s waist. He pulled Will’s hips forward a little until they were pressed up against each other, their body heat considerably warming up the brisk autumn night.

Will reached his arms around Merlin’s neck and rested his forehead on Merlin’s. Once they were in place, they began to dance.

They swayed gently side to side to the ambient music, perfectly in sync with one another. Will was vaguely aware of Merlin’s slender fingers moving down his waist, trying to find a good grip. He felt Merlin’s breath mingle with his and heard him humming quietly to the melody. They were comfortable and safe in each other’s arms under the full moon. The only thing either of them cared about at that moment was each other.

Will’s arms tightened around Merlin’s neck. He clung onto him as if he’d be dragged away at any second, which was all too real a possibility in Will’s mind. As they moved back and forth together, loneliness and grief already began to crawl up Will’s spine and into his head.

This, here, right now, was the closest they were going to be for a long while.

Before he knew it was happening, tears were spilling down Will’s face. He buried his face in the crook of Merlin’s neck, into his neckerchief, and began to weep. He wanted to stop, to not make this night any more tragic than it already was, but he couldn’t.

Luckily, Merlin noticed and brought their swaying to a slow stop. He sharply inhaled, breath catching in his throat as he slid his hand up and started to run his fingers through Will’s hair.

“It’ll be alright,” he murmured. “It’s all going to be fine.”

Will continued to cry into his shoulder, staining Merlin’s neckerchief with his tears, but he did not cease. He dug his fingers into the collar of Merlin’s worn jacket and held on for dear life.

“Merlin,” he wept. “I’m so sorry I’ve been acting distant recently, I was…” He paused to gulp in a breath. “I am terrified of the thought of you leaving, and I don’t know how to deal with it.”

The music had died out, and the fire was going to as well any minute now.

“Shh, it’s okay Will, I understand,” Merlin spoke calmly, but Will knew him well enough to hear that he was crying as well. “I love you.”

That only made Will sob harder, his body wracked with pain, but he was laughing, too. He was laughing because he’d finally admitted his true feelings for Merlin, and it was all under the wrong circumstances, but still perfect.

Will always did enjoy the tragedies.

In the middle of a chuckle, he lifted his head back up to look into Merlin’s eyes. The raven-haired boy’s face was tear-streaked and his bottom lip trembled. He wasn’t far from breaking down as well. He stammered a few times before getting out “Will--”

Whatever he was going to say next was cut off by Will closing the distance between them and pressing his lips to Merlin’s tenderly. He brought his hand to the side of Merlin’s face and deepened the kiss, only pulling back for air for a second before going back in.

Will had been dreaming of this moment for years.

Merlin kissed back gently while his fingers rested underneath Will’s chin, tilting it upward.

Will went slowly, wanting to make this moment last for as long as he could.

The magic had returned, and it burned with more fire than it ever had before. So this is what love, passionate, intense, true love was like.

Will thought to himself that he could get used to it. It was too bad he wasn’t going to get the chance.

Finally he pulled away after what felt like minutes but was probably only mere seconds.

Merlin’s eyes were brighter than they’d ever been before, and it wasn’t just because of the stars. They glistened with pure joy and tears, and Will was sure his did as well.

“Please,” he whimpered. “I don’t want you to go.”

More tears were welling up in Merlin’s eyes and he bit his lip to keep them from falling. “I don’t want to go, but I have to,” he said, his voice wavering. “And you have to let me.”

“No,” Will cried. He pressed his face into Merlin’s chest and kept his hands clenched into the coat collar. “No, you can’t go, I don’t want you to.”

Merlin shut his eyes and one more tear fell. He rested his chin on top of Will’s head and reassured him, “I’m going to come back to visit you, alright?” They had started to sway again, even though the night air was still and silent and the fire was gone, only a wispy tendril of white smoke in its place. “You know I’ll come back.”

Will kept his head down, but his crying ceased, at least partially. With a sniff, he asked, “Do you promise?”

“I promise.”

That was the end of the conversation.

Nothing more was needed.

Merlin brought his hands back down to Will’s waist, and their foreheads met again. And so there they danced, by the outskirts of the foggy forests of Ealdor, smoke swirling beneath their feet. The lights in the village had gone out, but they had all the light they needed from the moon. They danced with no music, but as Will had taught Merlin several years ago, you don’t need music to dance.

Because I'm still in love with you

On this harvest moon

#willappreciation2020 #bbc merlin #will merlin #merlin fic #merlin #william of ealdor #merwill

[spacecakes20]

Begin Again

(Chapter 5)

Chapter 6: Sebastian, Band Practice

Sebastian had taken a smoke break outside of the Stardrop Saloon. It was a lot colder at night in spring. The cool nights were the most enjoyable for him; like the crisp air did a good job of clearing his head. It also helped calm his nerves, especially when he needed a break from social interactions. He loved his friends, he did, but he always felt so drained by the end of their outings. Taking a long drag of his cigarette, he released the smoke with a slow exhale.

     Friday nights were usually spent with Sam and Abigail at the saloon. It was the same almost every week; almost routine. This night, however, was different from the trio’s usual gatherings. Sam had invited the new farmer. Sebastian wasn’t sure how to feel about that, but he didn’t object to it either. She seemed nice enough, and the two didn’t give off the best first impression. Perhaps this could help them redeem themselves. He wasn’t expecting her to show up early. Wasn’t mentally prepared to be alone with her. He didn’t know what to talk about, and he didn’t want to just sit there in awkward silence. So, he did what he knew how; offered to play pool with her. He wasn’t sure if she was lying when she said she’d never played before. There was no way she was a novice. Sure, she still lost, but it was the closest he’d come to losing in a long while. Perhaps it was beginner’s luck. Or maybe she was a quick learner. Ether way, he was slightly impressed.

      Sebastian was brought out of his thoughts by the sound of a door opening. He didn’t look up to see who it is. It was probably Shane or Pam calling it a night and heading home, probably shit-face drunk. It was late, and those two were usually the last ones to go.

      “Oh, I wasn’t expecting you to still be out here.” That voice didn’t belong to Pam or Shane. Looking up, he saw it was a very sober Luna.

      “Yeah,” Sebastian answered dryly. “Just needed a smoke.”

      She nodded, “Well, it’s getting late, so…” She trailed off.

      “I’ll walk you home.” He said, not thinking about the words coming out of his mouth.

      Luna looked taken aback, “No, you don’t have to.” She was fidgeting with her hands, not quite looking at him, “I wouldn’t want to inconvenience you.”

      Sebastian had flicked his cigarette butt to the ground, crushing it with his foot, “It’s fine.” He shrugged, “There’s a short cut through your farm to my house.”

      She lifted her eyebrows at that realization, “Well… if that’s the case.”

      The two began their walk together, only the sounds of crickets filling the ambiance of the night. Sebastian was never one for conversation; with new people especially. With Sam or Abigail, he’d usually let the two of them do the talking. Thankfully, he didn’t have to start the conversation; Luna had cleared her throat before giving him a look.

      “So, I was right?”

      That only just confused him, “About…?” He glanced at her from the corner of his eye, and she looked downright smug.

      “You did go easy on me.” She said, “You played completely different with Sam than you did with me.”

      “I mean…” He rubbed the nape of his neck, “You still lost.”

      She simply hummed, face never changing, “But you’re not denying it this time.”

      The two were coming up to the bus stop, which meant they were close to their destination. “I can neither confirm nor deny.” He said dryly, humoring her.

      They finally made it to her farmhouse, the two standing at the foot of Luna’s stairs. Looking around the land, it was still a mess of trees, rocks, and weeds. However, there was a clear plot of crops located near one of the closest lakes. In the dark of night, he couldn’t quite make out what kind of crops they were. This was probably his first time on the property since Luna moved in. He used to use the back path as a handy shortcut on the way home all the time when the place was vacant. He, Abigail, and Sam would even hang around the property to smoke weed, easily out of sight of their nosy parents. It felt a little odd standing on the farm grounds now, knowing someone now lived there.

       “Soooo…” Luna eyed Sebastian with curiosity, “Where’s this short cut of yours?”

       He pointed toward the back-way headed north with his thumb, “Just take the back path till it leads you to an opening with a house surrounded by mountains. It’s pretty hard to miss.”

       Luna stared at him blankly, as though she was working through the information in her head. “Isn’t that… Robin’s place?” She tilted her head in confusion. The gesture was kind of cute.

       “Yeah?” He sounded equally as confused before he realized who he was talking to, “You didn’t know? Robin’s my mom.” Come to think about it, he can’t recall if he’d ever been upstairs when Luna visited. He was sure he did that intentionally. He was trying to avoid her not too long ago after all.

       “Oh!" She seemed surprised, "You’re Robin’s kid?” 

       Sebastian chuckled, but it sounded almost bitter, “I know. We don’t really look alike.” Wouldn’t be the first time he’d heard it. “Are you adopted?” Or, “Do you take after your father?” Were normally the follow-up questions. He braced himself for the inevitable.  

       “Oh no, that’s not it.” Luna tried to reassure him, catching him by surprise, “It’s just…” She bit her lip. She seemed to do that a lot. Perhaps she did it when she was thinking her next statement through. Finally, she said, “When Robin said she had a son, I thought he’d be a teen. I wasn’t excepting both of her kids to be adults. She still looks so young.”

       Sebastian stared for a minute, processing what she just said. That was a first he’d heard that one. It was a bit refreshing, honestly. “Oh,” He responded flatly. Then, with a bit more mirth he said, “I’ll tell her you said that.”

       Wait, “both of her kids”? So, she had already met Maru. That wasn’t too surprising. Maru was excited after hearing about the new farmer moving into town. He wouldn’t be surprised if she was one of the first townspeople to introduce themselves. Maru had always been the more outgoing and extroverted of the two siblings. She always made socializing look so easy. She and Luna would probably get along much better; it wasn’t too hard to picture.

       “I had fun tonight.” Luna’s voice brought Sebastian back to the forefront of reality. She tried to bite back a yawn but to no avail. She looked at him, looking almost embarrassed, “I should get going.” She gave him a small wave before making her way up the stairs. Before she made her way into her house, however, she turned to him with a smile. It was one of her smiles that made her eyes sparkle, “Good night.” She said simply.

       “Yeah,” He said back, stuffing his hands into his hoodie pocket, “G’night.”

       He watched her disappear into her house, a light she turned on shining brightly through the window. He wordlessly made his way through the unlit trail, slowly making his way back home.

                                                           ...

There was a buzz that sounded far away. Sebastian paid it no mind at first, the cozy embrace of sleep keeping him comforted. The buzz had stopped, but only for a moment. This time it sounded louder; almost closer. With a groan, Sebastian opened his eyes, vision still blurry from the remnants of sleep. Looking around, he realized the buzzing was his phone. He picked it up, only to be blinded by the vividly colored screen. He had to blink a few times before his vision adjusted to the light and came into focus. Four missed calls and 24 different text messages. Great. Scrolling through his phone, all but one of the texts seemed to be from Sam. His missed calls were also all from his overzealous blond friend.

        The first text started simply: You still on for band practice? Perhaps because Sebastian didn’t answer for an hour, the ones after that became a bit more obnoxious.  

        Sam: Seb? U up yet?

        Sam: Hello?

        Sam: Hello?

        Sam: Hey!

        Sam: Seb?

        Sam: Wake up sleeping beauty!

        Sam: We haven’t practiced in forever!

        Sam: Call me!

        Sam: R u ded?

        The texts just continued in an endless stream of meaningless blabber. Surly his friend must have been board. Rolling his eyes at Sam’s ridiculous impatience, he checked his other message. It was from his latest client, asking for updates on his newest project. Shit, he’d almost forgotten about that. It was due in just a few days. Going back to his text from Sam, he decided his impatient friend could stand to wait just a little bit longer. After one long stretch, he got out of bed and headed straight to the bathroom. After relieving himself, he brushed his teeth and took a shower. Getting dressed in his usual dark attire, he finally shot Sam a text.

        Sebastian: Stop spamming me -_-

        He pocketed his phone without a second glance and made his way up the stairs. At the top, looking to his right he notices his stepdad, Demetrius, wasn’t present in his lab. To his right, his mother also wasn’t attending the front counter. Perfect! He swiftly made his way into the kitchen. No Maru in sight ether. So far so good. He went straight to the coffee maker, pouring his favorite blend along with some water, and turned the machine on. It felt nice to have the house to himself. There was no one there to berate him for sleeping in too late or ask him a million questions before he even had his morning (but really afternoon) coffee. His peace couldn’t last forever, though. He felt his phone buzz again, and he inwardly groaned.

        Sam: Omg!

        Sam: Ur alive!

        Sam: Praise Yoba!

        Sebastian rolled his eyes at his friend’s dramatics and placed his phone on the counter. He poured himself a cup of coffee and took a few sips. He saw his phone buzz to life again, but this time with an incoming call. He didn’t even have to check the name to know it was Sam. With a flick of his finger, he answered.

        “Seb!” Sam yelled on the other line, making Sebastian wince. It was much too early for all this noise. Okay, it was two in the afternoon, but still.

        “What Sam,” Sebastian answered as calmly as he could manage.

        “Did you forget? It’s Saturday!” Sam sounded exasperated, making Sebastian feel a little guilty.

        “I overslept.” He said.

        Sam sighed on the other line. After a beat, he sounded more chipper, “Okay, listen! I’ve got some news!”         

        “Uh-huh.” Sebastian took a long sip of his coffee.

        “But I’m not telling you until you show up for practice though! ‘Kay?”

        “Sam…” Sebastian’s voice had a bit of a warning edge to it. “I’ve got a deadline coming up.”

        “Please!” Sam sounded distraught, “It’s really good news! I promise I won’t ever ask you for anything ever again!”

        Sebastian sighed, a ping of guilt stabbing his chest. This would be the second Saturday in a row where he skipped out on band practice with Sam. Coincidentally, it was also because he was working too close to a deadline. He did need to get his work done, but he would feel even more guilty about leaving Sam hanging for the second week in a row. Guess he’d just have to pull an all-nighter. Again.

        “Fine.” Sebastian sighed out, defeated. He almost didn’t hear the whoop, on the other end.

        “I knew you loved me!” Sam said.

        “I wouldn’t go that far.” Sebastian rolled his eyes at his friend’s antics. He was grateful Sam wasn’t there to see his ghost of a smile.

        “Alright!” Sam ignored him, “I’ll see you when you get here! Bye!” He hung up the phone without waiting for Sebastian’s response. He sighed to himself. His friends never seemed to understand that he had a job that was just as demanding as any other. Sebastian would never call if he knew his friend Sam was on the clock or visit Abigail if she was in the middle of her online classes. He just wished his friends would do the same.

        Just then, he heard some mumbling and giggles, the sound growing closer to the kitchen with each footstep. Sebastian looked up from his steaming cup of joe and was surprised to see Abigail, of all people, with his younger sister Maru in tow. They didn’t notice him right away, the two of them laughing at some unheard joke, before looking up in his direction. The two girls looked surprised to see him standing in his own kitchen.

        “Oh, hey Seb,” Abigail said with a wave. She sounded off, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on why. Did she look… nervous?

        “Um… Hey.” He waved dumbly, unsure of what to do with himself. “What are you doing here?”

        Abigail, if possible, went paler than usual. Her sea-blue eyes darted to Maru’s amber-brown ones, as though looking for an answer to his simple question. Maru was the one to speak up, “Oh, Abby just wanted to see one of my latest inventions.” She said simply, “It’s just a prototype now, but she wouldn’t stop asking me about it.”

        “Yup.” Abigail agreed, a bit too quickly actually.

        “And the time just got away from us sooo…”

        “We decided to grab lunch!” Abigail finished for Maru.

        “Oh-kaaay…” Sebastian wasn’t sure how to respond. It was a little unusual to see Abigail at his house, not there to see him. He didn’t even know she and Maru were even friends. He placed his unfinished coffee mug on the counter, grabbed his phone, and stuffed it into his pants pocket. “Well, I won’t keep you two.” He said on the way out of the kitchen, “I should get going.” He gestured to the coffee maker with his thumb, “There’s some coffee left if you want some.” And with that, he made his way out of the kitchen. He’d ask Abigail about this later, but for now, he needed to go see what all the fuss was about with his buddy Sam.

(Chapter 7)

#Stardew Valley #stardew valley sebastian #sebastian x farmer #stardew sebastian #stardew fanfic

[joopiterjoon]

Wishing on a Star | KSJ

Pairing: Seokjin x reader

Genre: NC-17, Romance, Fluff?

Warnings/Tags: Vampire!Jin, Biting, Blood, Kissing, swearing, couch grinding, bad Twilight Series references

Wordcount: 3k

Part of ficswithluv’s #FWLBingo! 

“They probably got that idea from me,” Seokjin murmurs. He’s glaring at the screen, feet tucked up and arms crossed next to you, as he watches Edward Cullen step into the sunlight and sparkle.

“You don’t sparkle,” you snort. Seokjin’s jaw drops as he turns to you. “Wait… do you?”

Seokjin closes his mouth and takes a deep breath through his nose. “No, but how else are they going to try and demonstrate that someone is inhumanly handsome? And who is truly inhumanly handsome? Me!”

“That’s not saying much, since you are, in fact, inhuman,” you tease.

“I’m the most handsome inhuman there is, though!” Seokjin shouts, tossing his hands up. You’re glad to have a distraction from the very cringe scene happening in a movie that crushed your favorite book series. “I am worldwide handsome, human or not!”

You laugh at how he thinks he needs to convince you, his girlfriend. “Of course, of course, my vampire from the stars.”

“That’s right!” Seokji bellows, though his ears tinge pink. He starts waving his arms around to recite a speech you’ve heard many, many times. “I’m more attractive than any angel up there! Any demon down there! Any creature right here!”

Contrary to the fanged creatures on your TV screen, Jin was just an average but incredibly hot vampire. Well, what you now knew to be an average vampire. Fangs and a severe vitamin deficiency that could only be cured with blood.

(“Stop asking me to explain it, it’s too complicated.”

“Mhm, yeah, you definitely just didn’t forget.”

“Just for that, I won’t tell you.”)

At first, you’d been a tad disappointed. Sure, you would have been freaked out if Jin was even a Stefan Salvatore or a Lestat. But after a while, it lost its edge. Unlike Jin’s fangs.

He’d come to you in such an unusual way. At first glance, it fits the mysterious, ominous nature of vampires. Last year, you’d had enough. Life sucked, as it often does for people in their early twenties. You’d been leaning out your window with a bottle of wine, asking the heavens to send you someone. Sure, you’d stolen the idea from Lilo and Stitch, but why the fuck not. You just needed someone. You were willing to try wishing on a star for someone to come save you.

Little did you know, your rescuer was below, just strolling home late from work one night.

(“Hey,” a stranger called from the street. “That angel you’re looking for has already fallen.”

You startled. You can’t believe such a handsome stranger heard you, much less called out to a grown woman wishing on a star. Your shock caused the bottle of wine to slip from your grip and splatter three floors down. You almost follow after when you startle.

“Damn, people fall for me, but never from that high up,” Jin laughs, clapping his hands. You frown at the stranger.)

Jin likes to pretend it’s fate, and maybe it is a little bit, but it’s also his personality. Even if he’s not involved, seeing people in distress bothers him. He needs to lighten situations. And that lightheartedness and just how desperate you were had convinced you to allow the stranger into your home. Jin had waited to be invited in, but he insists that’s just manners.

Plus, Jin loves how you met. It’s his favorite thing to tell whenever you go out together. You just roll your eyes, letting him prattle on and on. Because when it comes down to it, he really was the angel you’d wished for (who is devilishly handsome, you might add).

“You’re doing it again,” Jin says, drawing you from your thoughts. He’s right. You’ve been watching him and his pursed lips while you’ve been reminiscing.

“Can you blame me?” You shrug.

“Fluffing my ego?” Jin teases, tossing the pillow from his lap to face you. “You’re asking for trouble.”

“Oh please, I’m more trouble than you’ll ever be,” you scoff. Jin frowns, but he knows it’s true. He scoots closer though, caging you into your side of the couch with a playful smile.

Leaning in to kiss you, Jin doesn’t say anything. He has two modes: all words and no game or just game and no words. Honestly, you couldn’t be made to choose between the two. Especially as his hands gently reach for you, plush lips closing in on yours.

Your body gravitates towards him. It’s no vampire curse. You’d asked him when you’d been immediately smitten all those months ago. You’d even wondered if there was a delayed onset, like something Jin “chose” to activate. It’s simply that Jin really was given to you by the stars. His dumb sense of humor balances your stressed mind, and by god is he gorgeous. You’re reminded each time your hands cup his jaw and your chest presses to his.

Jin deepens the kiss as he tugs on your thigh, dragging your leg to his waist as he lowers you to lie on the couch.

“But the movie,” you whine, trying to catch a glimpse of Bella and Edward running through Italy. Jin snarls, and his fangs are on full display. You can’t help but gasp, unable to hold back the wonder each time you see them. Lame vampire or not, that’s still what he is.

“You want that sparkle bitch over this?” Jin sounds offended, waving to his own form. You contemplate it, taking your time. You trace your fingers over the veins in his arms, up to the broad shoulders that block out the streetlight behind you. You giggle at the frustrated furrow of Jin’s brow over dark yet soft black eyes. Finally, you're pulling him on top of you, wrapping your legs around his waist.

It’s easy, a position you frequently find yourself in. Even though you both share a bed now, you find it hard to take the extra time to make it there. Jin’s hands know their way around your body, how to hold you, tease you, appreciate you. And you’re no different, humming as you splay your palms over his broad chest and roll your hips into his. The place doesn’t matter as long as you have Jin like this with you.

As your tongues meet, you shiver. Jin’s careful, but your tongue still slides past his incisors. They aren’t deadly sharp, but there’s an implication. One that Jin never acts on.

“Jin,” you whisper as he mouths at your jawline. Once he glances up, you fix him with a serious stare, biting your lip and running your hands through your hair like Bella Swan. “I know what you are.”

Jin’s body shakes with a laugh as his head drops to your shoulder. “You are the worst.”

You both giggle, trading the mirth between hushed lips as Jin fumbles for the remote to turn off the cringe-movie.

In the dark, your hands tighten in his hair as the moment becomes more heated. His hips shift forward, letting you know his intentions. You whimper as he nips at your neck, back arching off the couch.

“Do you want to?” You ask.

It’s a question you never dared ask when you first started dating. You assumed it was something that had to be addressed, but not then. In the throes of love, you feared Jin would sink his teeth in and… you don’t know, claim you, sire you, turn you, something. But when you finally had months later, the answer, like everything else, had been less than wowing. Nothing about Jin’s need for blood was arousing. If anything, it was annoying. Like having a craving for something and the business was closed.

That didn’t stop the idea that Hollywood had planted in your head. You’d finally chalked up the courage to ask months ago: Do you want to bite me?

Jin had played it off, saying he only wanted to when you refused to split a meal. He caved soon enough, not actually doing it, but explaining that he found it incredibly intimate. It was a kind of trust. It hurt, he said. Like a farmer raising chickens, he’d become immune to the cries in a way, but he still knew the pain. There was no magic serum from his fangs that numbed the pain. For the victim, it was simply teeth sinking into flesh.

Because of that, he saw it as a vulnerability from both partners. Jin joked and talked shit a lot, but he was a deeply thoughtful person under it all. He believed biting a human was something to be wary of yet cherished. He cherished you, but the wariness had still outweighed his affections. You could only think there was an assurance he didn’t see yet. Whenever you asked, you didn’t push the response.

Jin’s movements still, and he sighs. It’s a sigh that says this again? You prepare to shrug it off, content to be dick-downed by the inhumanly handsome.

But he surprises you.

“Are you really sure?”

The words cut through the stillness of the living room. Not even the breath in your lungs moves.

“Yes,” you whisper.

Jin’s large, black eyes sparkle with the dim light pouring in from the window. Seeing the insecurity there, you follow up with a nod.

“It’s…” Jin winces a bit. “I promise you, it doesn’t feel good. It’s a bite. Like two tears in your skin.”

“Jin,” you start, and you know you believe what you’re saying. “I could give two fucks about vampires before I met you, and now I only give one fuck. And that fuck is that I want to be close to you. This just happens to be another level that you have for being close. I want to be on that level. You are as close to me as possible. I want you that close. And I want to show you that I want to be that close to you. And I only want you to do it if you want me there, too.”

“Of course I want you close,” Jin says, voice losing that lilt he usually has to demonstrate how serious he is. But it’s back a second later when he rolls his hips. “Is that really the only fuck you have for me?”

You roll your eyes even if he can’t see. “You know what I mean.”

There’s a pause. Just silence, just the sound of your hearts pounding. Then, Jin’s soft lips press to yours. You slot your lips with his and brush your thumb over his cheekbone comfortingly. He moves to your cheek, your eyes, your jaw, your neck. He stays there, nuzzling at your pressure point. You close your eyes.

“You don’t feel nervous,” he whispers. You shake your head. You aren’t. You know it might hurt. But you want Jin.

He holds your neck, laying his weight on top of you. You hum at the warmth surrounding you, the familiar firmness pressed to your inner thigh. A wet tongue laps at your neck and you gasp at the sensation, but turn your neck for more. Jin presses a few more wet kisses there, sucking gently as you squirm from the pleasure.

Then, he hoists himself up. “If I do it here, we might ruin the couch.”

“Oh,” you breathe. Good point. Blood. You sit up. “Um, what if we use my sweater?”

“But you love this sweater,” Jin pouts. Your heart floods with warmth at the fact that Jin’s worried about your favorite sweater.

“I have club soda. The blood will come out,” you say. You sit comfortably in front of him. Jin chews his cheek, but then he gets on his knees, straddling your lap. You place your hands on his thighs as he places his on your shoulders.

“Are you sure?” Jin whispers, brushing his nose to yours. He sounds breathless, more scared than you. You’re not scared at all. You want this. You want to show Jin he can’t hurt you and you want all of him.

“Mhm,” you whisper. 

“I think,” Jin whispers back, “I think I’m more nervous than you.”

You pout, but keep your eyes closed, just feeling him close. “Don’t do it if you don’t want to.”

“No, I,” Jin swallows. He doesn’t keep talking.

He kisses you again. This one is different. It’s not chaste. It’s not heated. It’s slow. His mouth works against yours, gauging your reception, letting his tongue slide along your bottom lip but not pushing in. You open for him, fingers tightening on his pants. He keeps edging in, giving you chances for an out, willing to let you turn this into a normal night on the couch instead of what he’s about to do.

Then, his mouth drifts. He keeps you close, a hand on the back of your neck, hips sinking into your lap. It kind of feels silly, having your massive boyfriend straddling you, but you’re too lost in the feeling of his tongue gently probing. He’s searching for a good spot, you realize. You try to relax, not squeeze your eyes or feel tense, to let him know you are okay. You move your hands to his waist, holding him gently.

Until your arms constrict around him with a small squeak in pain. His teeth sink in. At first, it’s nothing but a bite. Kinky, not scary. But then you feel it. The pressure, the pricking, the tearing. The searing heat that comes from an exposed wound. And then you feel the pull. It’s foreign, the way you feel the blood rush from your veins faster than intended. Your mouth hangs open, a silent scream caught there. You tug Seokjin closer and he gladly obliges, one arm hugging you, rubbing your back gently while the other thumbs under your jaw. He holds you secure, makes you feel safe swaddled in his arms and the cushions.

You squeeze your eyes shut as tears roll down. Their meaning is mixed. Both relief, fear, joy, pain, trailing down your cheeks. Jin grunts, shifting a bit, and you bury your face in his chest. Each muscle of your shoulder and neck are hyperaware, and you feel as though you have to clearly think about each as you hide inside Jin. 

Jin, who sucks your very being into his mouth and down his throat. Who keeps rubbing soothing circles wherever he touches. He’s not overwhelmed or consumed by bloodlust. Even as he feeds, his attention is on you. He’s always focused on you.

You cry out as he pulls off, the fangs slipping from your skin like a rock lodged in a wound that had to be removed. But then he’s back. You’re impressed that you don’t flinch as he descends. The same suction feeling is gone, just the lap of his tongue.

“Too much,” you breathe. It feels like you can feel each tastebud of his tongue pulling the flesh open.

“Sorry,” he muffles, tongue trading to soft taps. He waits out your blood coagulating. Your shoulders ache, but you realize it’s the vice like grip you have on him. As you slowly loosen, Jin moves to rub your arms, trying to ease the tension.

“Not as tough as you look, huh?” he says, the words murmured just above the wound. The words are too soft, filled with insecurity.

You shake your head, body ashiver. “It’s just new.”

“Bad?” Jin asks, even quieter.

You shove on his shoulders at that. He whines something incoherent in protest, eyes locked on the wound as you pull him into focus. “Nothing’s bad with you.”

Jin pouts, bottom lip on full display. Even in the dark room, you can tell it’s a shade darker with your blood. “It hurts.”

“It did. You bit me, so duh,” you admit. Jin’s strong eyebrows crease on his forehead, not appreciating your joke when he’s so concerned. You give a small smile, bringing your hands to his chest. “I’m glad you think we’re in a place where you can do that.”

You nudge him, and he concedes. He kisses your lips, and you gasp at the metallic taste in his mouth. His kiss is more earnest, eager to have you responding. He groans when your tongue twists with his and you wrap your arms around his neck.

“Fuck,” Jin groans. “Fuck, it’s just. You. All of you. Feel good, taste good.”

Your heart races at that. Jin’s kisses are frenzied, tongue quickly following your own. His breathing is faster, grip tighter, pulling you into him. He’d said that blood didn’t mean much. It wasn’t an overwhelming desire or blurred with ecstasy, but the real reason got you more. Jin had your blood in his veins, your taste in his mouth. And he seemed impossibly turned on by it. By you. He cared so much for you, it was hard to believe there was ever a time you questioned if anyone, even yourself, cared about you.

“I love you,” you whisper.

Jin kisses you harder, fingers twisting in your hair, breathing in deep through his nose. “God, I love you.”

He starts to lean you back, and you willingly go, but then he yanks you both back up. “The blood! The couch!”

“Oops?” You blink, already so lost in Jin that you forgot. You’re not really sure if you are gushing out of your neck or what.

Before you can reach to check, Jin gently thumbs at the mark. He brings a smear of blood to his lips. You see his expression twitch in contentment, but there’s a flicker of worry in his eyes that won’t move from the throbbing mark on your neck. Whatever moment had been there was now broken by the reality of what happened. You may have been convinced you’re fine, but Jin still seems cautious.

“The floor?” You suggest, then point to the blanket on Jin’s side. “That’s an old afghan.”

“Ah, okay, yeah,” Jin breathes in relief, like he still isn’t sure if you’ll take the chance to get up and run out. Just to prove his worries wrong, you grab the blanket and toss it to the floor. You slide down, patting the space next to you.

Jin smiles down at you, something of a dazzle in his warm eyes. You smile back, and let him stare a little bit longer, then teasingly suggest with a crooked finger, “Come on, ravage me.”

Jin chuckles at that, shaking his head as he lowers himself down with a playful growl. You laugh as your boyfriend, who moments before was concerned over every touch, wrangles you to the floor to ravage you not with bites but kisses.

Check out my other FWLBingo pieces here!

#seokjin x reader #seokjin #jin fic #jin x reader #thekimlinenet #hyunglinenetwork #ficswithluv #bangtanhq #jin #wishing on a star #vampire au #vampire fic #seokjin fic #fwlbingo #bts fic

[helenaklein]

take me to your river

The steady trickle of the river creates a gentle melody that accompanies your afternoon. There’s a lightness to the air today, as if the world itself is breathing easier than it has in far too long. Your world certainly is.

Helena’s back rests against a tree on the water’s edge, and her fingers weave loose braids through your hair as your head lie in her lap. You’ve been dozing in and out of consciousness for at least an hour, basking in the simple luxury of your wife’s company. More than once, you wake to the sound of rustling leaves and the sight of slow movement in the branches above you, growing spontaneously to provide continual shade from the sun’s glow. Mirth lights up her entire face each time you catch her; her disbelief and her confidence providing a uniquely endearing combination you can’t get enough of.

You and Helena have yet to leave for any sort of honeymoon, but moments like these provide such a stark contrast to your life together thus far that you can’t imagine time even more rejuvenating.

You crack your eyes open just slightly when her hands still. Helena stares out towards the water, looking thoughtful but lacking the telltale crease on her brow she gets when something’s troubling her.

“What’s on your mind?”

There’s no surprised reaction to your question, only a small smile at the unspoken familiarity you’ve cultivated together.

“Much.”

“Well,” you sit up to reposition yourself further in her lap, her arms immediately wrapping around your waist to pull you closer, “I think we’ve got time.”

Helena hums appreciatively and presses a lingering kiss against your cheek. The warmth of her lips against your skin persists even as she begins to speak.

“Do you remember our first riverside venture?”

You recall the day fondly. 

Those were such fraught times. So much was uncertain. Helena herself was different then, the cloud of hurt and regret that surrounded her so palpable it could have easily created insurmountable distance between you. But it didn’t.

Instead, moments like that trip to the river were a window into a gentler life, a glimpse at the woman she could become.

Your chest tightens at the memory of all you’ve gone through to get here. You wrap your arms around Helena’s neck and hold tight to what you fought for.

“When I pushed you into the water? How could I forget?”

Helena’s laughter comes unrestrained now. You think it might be your favorite change.

“I returned your dirty trick in kind.”

“It ended pretty well for both of us, I think.”

She reaches for your hand and brushes her lips lightly against your wedding ring, “I agree.”

You steal a kiss in the silence that follows. Because you can’t help it. Because she made you blush. Because Helena is your wife and because you’ve found the kind of love most people can only fantasize about.

“I asked you something that day.”

The words tumble from your mouth ungracefully, summoned from the same place of uncertainty they were conjured all that time ago, “‘What am I to do with peace?’”

Her eyes seek something distant out across the water as she nods. “It was difficult to picture myself in the life that comes after war. Growth and repair felt so foreign, so distant to what I knew of my soul. Even now, I find myself asking the same question: what am I to do with peace? There are so many possibilities before us. I struggle to envision what choice is best.” 

“It doesn’t have to be the best choice, you know. Maybe peace is more complex than that.”

The notion seems to strike her deeply, and she looks back out towards something you can’t reach.

“Is this about Chicago?”

Despite her previous insistence on the decision to move after the wedding, the commitment had yet to be followed through in any meaningful way. The two of you went as far as escorting Sophie home before stepping right back through the portal because Helena had told Altea she’d help transport her to potential locations for the future school of magic, and didn’t want to go back on her word. So many things have come up and postponed the move that you’ve begun to consider that Helena may be doing it deliberately.

You haven’t asked about it until now, figuring her reasons justifiable and her faith in you strong enough to share them when she’s ready. In truth, you don’t mind the delay, grateful for the opportunity to mull over the logistics on how the hell to make any of it work. The more you think about it, the more anxious you get. 

You have to go back to work, first of all. Which means job hunting and the whole host of inferiority issues that’s inevitably going to dredge up. You’ll need to find something that will let you work from home, as you aren’t keen on the idea of leaving Helena alone all day in a world she doesn’t know, and something for her to do in general that won’t ask for any identification. And, perhaps most complicated of all, you need to figure out a way to divert the attention that sharing a face with a dead, beloved celebrity will draw to her without asking Helena to disguise herself again.

It’s been a head-ache inducing process, to say the least, and you’ve barely had time to consider some of the pressing emotional concerns you have about any of it.

Helena seemed so sure when she talked about this move before that you haven’t really had the heart to bring up how complicated it’s going to be. You would do absolutely anything to secure her comfort and happiness, even hop dimensions and steal an identity for her. But still, the situation is more stressful than you’ve let on.

“Your world is a wondrous place. Its creativity and progress excites me. In many ways, it is the perfect answer to what I have craved for the majority of my life. Escape. Freedom. A new beginning. A chance to start my life fresh.” Helena smiles as she speaks, her blue eyes locked onto an imagined future. “If you had asked me two seasons ago where I wanted to spend my life, I am sure a place like Chicago would have been my choice, without question or second thought.”

“And now?”

“Now… it is as if I turn to what it represents to me on reflex, or out of habit,” Her gaze drops down and shame darkens her features before she shakes herself from it and meets your eyes directly, “but it has been quite some time since I have let the instinct to preserve myself rule my actions.”

“You said you feared people never letting go of your past.”

Helena repositions you slightly to better face you. You straddle her lap and catch both of her hands in yours.

“Yesterday, I met a farmer living in countryside surrounding Reiner’s castle who had been struggling to attain crop yields comparable to what he managed before the Witch Queen’s army occupied his land. What little actually took root molded by harvest time. I found him reduced to tears, clutching his ruined crop in his fists and kneeling in the dirt. He feared destitution for his family and starvation for his child, a little girl named Maya who just lost her first tooth. He thought himself a failure, and assumed that he was doing something wrong. But the land itself was cursed. I could sense the poison embedded within the soil the moment my palm touched the ground,” her words come more quickly as the story progresses, betraying her agitation at what this stranger endured. “She sabotaged his entire livelihood for no reason other than that she could, that it brought her pleasure to know he and all those that depended on him would suffer.”

You squeeze Helena’s hands in an offer of strength when you feel them start to tremble in your own, “breathe, Helena.”

She takes the suggestion immediately, clenching her eyes shut and giving herself a minute to get her breath under control. When her trembling ceases, Helena opens her eyes and continues, voice noticeably steadier.

“I offered my assistance to him. He was distrustful of magic after having seen the destruction it wrought so close to his home, and skeptical that anything could mend the damage after he had tried so hard to fix it. But he had nothing left to lose, and said as much before allowing me to help. I lanced her poison from the farmer’s field with ease. The look of wonder on his face as the crops still clutched in his hands were restored to perfect health, and that I could so effortlessly erase the evidence of her wickedness… it made my heart soar.” 

The memory puts a note of awe into her voice, her smile lights up her entire face, and you could swear the shade you rest under brightens with the grace of her happiness. You know how much it means to Helena that she’s learned how to help others with her magic. She’s formed a better relationship with herself as a result of it, with the knowledge that she is so much more than her capacity for destruction. 

Her smile fades before she begins speaking again, “there are other stories like that farmer’s. People whose lives have yet to return to sustainable conditions, let alone something resembling normalcy. Many whose homes were consumed by flames and whose possessions were seized by her soldiers, who are still in search of family members unaccounted for, whose minds and bodies are gravely wounded and continue to live without respite. The Witch Queen is dead, but her touch upon this world lingers.”

The statement would make you worry about her if not for the hard-set determination that settles across Helena’s features.

“I do fear what my reputation in this land will be. But should the burden of that fear fall upon the shoulders of those whose resentment is just? Should I extend no offer of help to people in need on the chance that they may dislike me? Is it not the worst of crimes to have great power to make change, and choose instead to do nothing?”

Helena’s voice carries the same sort of impassioned delivery she used to rouse the army to stand with her as she brought back the sun. You can’t help but burn with pride and an immediate desire to do something, armed with the knowledge that her cause is inspired and righteous.

“I have more magic at my fingertips than has ever been thought possible in our recorded history.” She pulls one of her hands from yours, holding it outwards and summoning an amorphous ball of energy to demonstrate. 

Particles of magic dance around one another, a glowing light show contained at the palm of her hand. What she holds then disperses outwards, and when Helena gestures around you, you’re caught breathless at the sight. The flow of the river has ceased altogether, fallen leaves and stones previously strewn across the forest floor levitate seamlessly in the air for as far as you can see. She holds it only for a moment, before dismissing the spell with a slight wave, and shows no sign of strain at the exhibit, if she feels any at all.

“Some of this magic was hers, once. She wielded it mercilessly against the people of this world, used it to impose her will over my body and mind until I thought of nothing but her and how to make the pain stop. I see no greater act of reclamation than my use of that same power to ease some of the destruction she wrought.”

“Are you saying you want to stay here, Helena?”

“As a child this world wounded me in ways unspeakable, and for too much of my adult life I wounded it just the same. But… perhaps there remains a way to amend some of the damage inflicted on both sides.”

“I just want to be sure you’re not trying to make a martyr of yourself in endless pursuit of everyone’s approval.”

Helena releases a hum of recognition at that, and turns her eyes towards the river once more. The sounds of the forest fill the lull in conversation between you. You’re grateful that she takes the time to consider your words, and are happy to grant her however long she needs to take stock of her feelings on the matter.

A chill settles in the air as the sun begins to fall. You tuck your face into the crevice between her neck and shoulder, seeking her warmth as much as you are protecting her with your own. Her arms come around you, pulling you close enough to feel her heartbeat against your chest.

You can hear her smile when she speaks next. 

“There is still so much beauty here. I notice more of it every day. In our view of the sunrise over the village from our balcony. In evening meals spent among our friends, getting our fill of laughter and hot food in equal measure. In the songs the village people sing together while working towards a common goal. In the jovial eyes of children who will grow up without fear. In… in the way Ishara and Asta embrace me as their own. In the dreams and aspirations of all around us certain that there is a future to plan for, and in the knowledge that this is the world that brought our hearts together. This world. She tried to crush it underfoot but kindness and hope yet lives. I see it and I can feel it take hold in my soul, and I know with certainty that this world and I are the same.”

Helena is beaming when you pull away to look her in the eye, and you can’t help but match her smile.

“I wish to stay, my love, if you are amenable to the idea. No thoughts on the matter mean more to me than yours.”

Pride and relief overtake you. The way Helena has grown since you met her still brings tears to your eyes. It may not be a fresh start, or a new beginning, but it feels no less important, no less significant, and no less a marker of positive change. 

“I wasn’t exactly looking forward to getting back to the daily office grind, to be honest. I’d be happy to stay, Helena.”

“Truly?”

“You’re here, aren’t you? And so are our friends. That’s all I need, in the end.” The people you’ve met in this world have filled your days with meaning in a way nothing else in Chicago ever has. Sophie is the only thing from your world you’ve ever been sad to let go of, though you know her place in your life will persist regardless of the dimensions between you. “Maybe it doesn’t make sense, with everything bad that’s happened. But it’s like you said, there’s a lot of good here too. I don’t think there is anywhere, in any world, without both. And we can help make more good. We can be happy here, I’m sure of it.”

Helena’s lips meet yours in a kiss that tastes of excitement and invigorated purpose. 

Your life together was never going to be easy, or simple. To ask for either of a woman like Helena is to deny who she is fundamentally, and ignore the long path she’s walked to become the person she is now. In place of what’s easy, you have what’s brave. It may be scary, and ugly at times, but it’s enough to know that neither of you will ever stop trying for your happiness together, the betterment of all that surrounds you, and the sort of self-improvement that can only be found by embracing challenges head-on.

“If my past catches up to me someday, I welcome it, so long as I have this moment, and the hope of another in the peace we will build together.”

The words ring in your ears. You love their sound, saying them back to yourself over and over as the truth of them resonates deep within your chest.

The peace we will build together.

That’s where you find the answer to Helena’s question. 

Nothing is to be done with peace, because peace itself is what must be done. 

Peace is what you build, not where you arrive at. It is not the hard-earned destination at the end of a long journey. It is not something you can chase, or hope to someday simply find, as neatly wrapped a resolution as that would be. It is the work you put in, the way you try, a purpose you dedicate yourself towards in ensuring tomorrow is better than yesterday.

As you walk back home hand in hand with Helena along the river, you know you aren’t taking your first steps towards a picturesque happy ending.

But together you will make tomorrow better than yesterday.

#text #lvstrck #helena klein #helena x mc #mine* #long post #chicago ending stans do NOT interact it is ON SIGHT #hk*

[brownstonearmy]

2021-03-20: Court Ordered Appearances (Part 2)

Tuesday Aug 25 (early afternoon, breezy)

After a short rest and some government-provided healing, Disco and Spleenifer are reunited with Lucky and Norm. A "delay in jurisdictional clarification" resulted in Norm arriving after the dirty job had been completed. It seems more like the law was showing favoritism to one of its officers, but who are we to judge the way the wheels of justice move?

Lucky looks quite a bit different today, as the court's summoning magic backfired and sent her into a plane where time runs differently. It's been two years since she last saw her companions, and her hair is now much longer and dyed blueberry blue with exposed roots. The courts gave the pair an emergency travel stipend of 1,000 GP each (with a little extra coin for Lucky on the side, on the condition that she not speak publicly about the government stranding her in another plane of reality for two years.

But before anyone can get too comfortable, court is called into session with the Honorable Drummond Lackman presiding over the case. The party is ushered to the Defense's bench where a Dwarven public defender is writing in a book, seemingly unaware that court has started. The Prosecution takes the floor to make opening statements, and that's when the party notices the Prosecution is not actually a man, but a Satyr named Ander Reedfellow.

The stakes are now apparent. In Swanmark, the penalty for murder is murder in turn. If there is no verdict by the time the bells toll 5, the verdict is death by default.

Ander calls his first witness to the stand: a sheep farmer named Melvil Ulmok. Melvil's testimony concerns a recent transaction involving Anaxilas. Apparently Mr. Ulmok sold a few sheep to Anaxilas, who didn't care what kind of sheep he bought. When Anaxilas was asked his intentions regarding the sheep, his answers to Mr. Ulmok were evasive. Melvil ends his testimony on an explosive accusation: "I say he's a ram-fucker."

The party persuades the public defender, Warden Alebrewer, to call Anaxilas's romantic partner, Norbert Haversham, to the stand to rebut the allegations. Norbert was not scheduled to be a witness in the testimony, but was in the audience watching the proceedings. Judge Lackman allows it, and Norbert reluctantly takes the stand. However, the line of questioning immediately turns to matters of the bedroom and Norbert refuses to answer those questions in public. Not because it's shameful or anything, but because it's generally not anyone else's business.

Ander Reedfellow calls another witness: Gimgen Brawnanvil. Astute readers may recall that Gimgen was a minor NPC who showed up way back in the early days of the campaign. He tried (and failed) to eat The Hole Thing. Ander asks Gimgen if he knows the some of the people defending the Anaxilas.

Gimgen identifies Disco and Lucky as being behind The Hole Thing eating contest. Although Gimgen was not forced to eat, the foul concoction forced him to un-eat (if you catch my drift) and also lose his prized Dwarven accent. If these are the kind of people trying to defend Anaxilas and the dragon, what does that say about Anaxilas's character if he's associating with these people? Clearly Bargulena was justified in eating him as a matter of civic service!

Lucky interrupts the proceedings by shouting "We have never intentionally hurt anyone, except for those who deserved it or for whom it would be funny."

Judge Lackman threatens Lucky with contempt of court and calls for order, while Warden requests a break to strategize their defense with the party since the prosecution is running roughshod over the defense.

In the defense's chambers, Warden explains that he's a public defender who gets a lot of cases and doesn't usually even get his case files until a few minutes before court. The defense packet for the This isn't ideal, but since the party happens to know Anaxilas, maybe they would be willing to take the lead on the defense?

Norm investigates the last known image of Anaxilas recorded on an adventure stone. It features a dragon yawning really wide while Anaxilas is standing at full height with his sword drawn. The image in question was taken by Anaxilas superfan, Gigi Hardcastle. When the party casts Locate Person on Anaxilas, it seems to ping the belt recovered from Bargulena's stomach.

With his experience as a police investigator, Norm is immediately suspicious that Gigi doesn't have a picture of the dragon closing its mouth. Disco has their own suspicions, because Norbert isn't nearly as broken up about the death of Anaxilas they would think.

Gigi and Norbert are requested for additional interrogation by the party, and the bailiff retrieves them. When Disco questions Norbert about his lack of sadness about losing a romantic partner, he divulges that he received a letter from Anaxilas that was dated AFTER his disappearance. The note reads:

"Norbert, my beloved, see you soon."

The conversation with Gigi is not as immediately helpful. She demands the dragon be called as a witness so the dragon can confess and be put to death. Gigi also cryptically mentions that there are things at play here that she cannot divulge and she only knows a piece of the puzzle. But her role is to see Bargulena executed and get near the dragon when it happens.

Once court is back in session, the dragon Bargulena is called as a witness. As the time draws closer to the evening, a floating black shroud of an executioner has appeared in the courtroom. Bargulena takes the stand, or at least her head and neck do, since she doesn't quite fit in the court.

Bargulena is clearly under some powerful sedatives and speaks with a slurred voice that oscillates between belligerence and mirthful honesty. Ander Reedfellow begins the cross-examination. "Did you eat Anaxilas, the celebrity adventurer?"

"Yes," Bargulena answers. "He tasted like cologne and sweat."

Norm asks Bargulena to open her mouth wide. Bargulena's teeth match the teeth featured in Gigi's picture.

Disco begins interrogating Bargulena, still trying to prove the dragon's innocence. Bargulena, however, is not having it. She professes her guilt over and over. Eventually it is decided that the best way to prove the innocence of a dragon who doesn't want to be proven innocent is to forcibly discharge Bargulena's bowels.

Cornelius von Tinkelwasser happens to be present at the court as an expert witness who gave testimony earlier in the case while the party was investigating Bargulena's guts. Spleenifer asks if Cornelius has his portable enema kit (of course he does, duh!), and so Spleenifer and Cornelius work together to pressurize Bargulena's bowels.

Moments later, a flood of magical dragon poop is unleashed. Cornelius is right in the middle of what sanitation professionals call "the splash zone," and he gets covered in partially digested dragon dinners.

Also escaping from the poopy prison are the drow who had been living in Bargulena's stomach as well as Monsignor Gryllz. During the commotion, Cornelius emerges from the splash zone transformed into a Werecorn. It's like a werewolf, but you know... an angry corn monster. Thankfully, Cornelius doesn't appear to be hostile, but there's yet another wrinkle in this courtroom chaos!

Several drow ladies led by a drow named Jenneleth materialize in the courtroom. Jenneleth has been trying to find her brother for the last 200 years, and she intends to make him pay for his insolence and willingness to associate with lesser races. She casts a spell to summon shadowy tentacles, but Lucky counterspells it and triggers a wild magic surge. Lightning appears on the ceiling and a pleasant breeze wafts through the courtroom.

Meanwhile, Disco is arguing against Jenneleth's abhorrent racial perspectives: "Having hooked up with many races, there is no lesser race."

Disco breaks out their lute and gets the party's energy pumping, as well as pumping out a seductive song for Jenneleth in an attempt to get her to consider the "other side." Although a string breaks on Disco's lute, the song is still at least a little bit appreciated by Jenneleth.

Jenneleth briefly considers "debasing herself with an inferior race," but ultimately opts to just keep on trying to destroy the whole courthouse in an attempt to capture or kill her brother.

Lucky notices a suspicious bucket that appears to be poison for the execution. She cast Thunder Step to blink over to the bucket and tosses it into the portable hole in an attempt to control access to it in case someone tries to execute Bargulena. Jenneleth tries to firebolt Gigi, but Gigi manages to get close to Bargulena and Lucky tosses the poison to her, because the party's not going to be the one killing a dragon.

As Gigi administers the poison, the large gem in her spider chair begins to glow as Bargulena's soul flows into it. Monsignor Gryllz also begins glow, but that's because he's absorbing part of the Bargulena's soul. Once he's powered up a bit, Monsignor Gryllz cackles and flies away.

Disco grabs Norbert and demands to know what they're supposed to do next, but right now the most prudent course of action is going to be to get out of this deadly courtroom brawl. Lucky administers some of that good old fashioned magical invisibility on Disco as a swarm of tabloid clerics descend from the spectator area to try to cast speak with dead on the dragon's corpse. The spells of the tabloid clerics are ultimately unsuccessful.

Gigi still needs to escape the pandemonium, and that's when Norm decides to create a diversion for her. He pulls out his folding boat and OH MY GOSH WHAT IS THAT as a big boat appears in the middle of the courtroom. Six seconds of stunned silence follow as Gigi makes her way to the exit.

Once Norm retrieves his folding boat and the rest of the party is free of the courtroom that is rapidly crumbling to the ground from the cacophony of spells being fired within, Gigi gets questioned about what the next step is.

She pats the glowing gemstone in her chair. "The dragon knows where Anaxilas is."

Stay tuned next time for more!

#dragon #Dungeons and Dragons #drow #court #execution #adventure log #shits and giggles

[shardclan]

In the Summerlands, the first creeping light of dawn turned the sloping horizon to a faded chrome of pale blue and bronze.

In the Bramble Step Entertainment district, the light only managed to add a feeble gray ambiance to the near-solid haze. One that only became obvious as the neon lights went off, snatching back the saturated glow they cast into the gloom. The streets were empty at this hour. The working girls and boys would be curled up in their beds, the cleaners were already in their assigned buildings–washing away blood and spilled liquor and polishing the bars until they were like new for the coming business day. A few piles of ash settled at the ends of dark alleys, already cool and damp with morning mist. No one would miss whoever they used to be.

Well, they might, but the first rain or stiff breeze would assure there’d be nothing left of them to find on Caress’ turf.

This morning found the Bramble Step’s proprietress in a thoughtful but pleased mood. She was not an especially devout dragon, but her family had deep roots in the Tangled Wood. So it had not especially impressed her when her obscuring goblin had suddenly emitted a stream of ichor from its mouth and eyes and spoke in a voice like a thousand whispers behind a thousand closed doors:

You will care for this.

An egg had rolled out of the inky pool, and now it sat on a pedestal in her entertaining room. As far as Caress was concerned she’d never gotten any direction to hatch it so it would stay like that until further notice. The Shadowbinder’s ‘gifts’ always had another side to them, so she treated it more like an unexploded bomb than a gift from her deity. Still, the client she had seen last night was quite impressed by the story–eager, even, to network with her if she was so clearly trusted by their deity. A hasty man (in business and in pleasure) but useful at least.

Astrit lay sprawled on her favorite chaise lounge looking at it, nude as the day he was born save an admittedly flattering brandy-wine shawl and his coveted gold jewels. She couldn’t remember any VIP appointments on his calendar, which meant he’d likely spent another night sating Achilles’s nigh-unquenchable thirst.

“You know I hate when you sit naked on that,” she said with a lazy sort of reproach. “It’s a very hard to come by type of suede.”

“What is the worth of a lounge that can’t be lounged on?”

“The same as an assistant who can’t see the value of proper use and care. I haven’t become rich buying expensive things and then carelessly soiling them.” She shooed him. “Have the decency to at least freshen up before you slide your unwashed ass all over it. Or buy your own.”

He grinned and relaxed onto a slightly less luxurious pile of pillows. Part of him considered teasing that she never said anything to Dalma when he came and sat on it, but he knew his limits. Caress loved her husband immensely and while she tolerated Astrit with grace, charm, and his due respect as a denizen of the Tangled Wood for openly hoping to usurp her, they were absolutely not on close enough personal terms for him to say anything about Dalma. Not if he didn’t want her to crush him beneath her heel.

“Seems like everyone who intends to move into the new House has,” he said instead.

“Anyone of interest?”

“To you? Probably not.” He drummed his fingers along one thigh. “If anything you might be interested in who isn’t there. Hart isn’t going.”

Caress sat across the room in a plush chair that she all but melted into. Astrit was new enough to know the political bits of Hart not going, but even with the Starlight Museum up and running, he likely didn’t really understand how odd it was. Hart’s true name might be dead, but he was still the most Arcane dragon in the lair. He didn’t have magical pursuits, he wasn’t a mage or a scholar. But he was worldly and observing. His Arcane nature was innate and deft, like a farmer so long at their craft they no longer needed an almanac to know the coming seasons. If it came out that his bones were made of crystalspine, Caress would have believed it. He had charm, he had cheer, and Caress knew well that he knew how to treat a lady both in bed and out of it, but there was something vast and timeless about him.

His not going, even for political reasons, was keenly against his nature as far as Caress was concerned.

A knock interrupted her thoughts, and a young woman coated in dark lace and silk accented by silver finery entered without waiting. Despite her golden eyes, a shadow emblem glowed faintly above her head and she had the playful but sneaky expression typical of young shadowlings.

“Labrusca,” Caress said with warmth she would not have spared for anyone else who intruded at this hour. “Is something wrong?”

“Just the opposite; I have an idea that may interest you.” She sprawled herself across the chaise lounge, but immediately her nose wrinkled and she looked distastefully at Astrit. “Still no regard for nice things, I see.”

Astrit stretched himself out languidly and folded his arms behind the sprawl of her dark red hair with a grin. “I’m regarding you, am I not?”

She gave him a sneer so withering it could have stripped the paint from the walls. Labrusca was not unlike Stellaria–not quite an adult, but by no means some young fool. Sincere flattery hardly ever worked on her, much less when it was so flagrantly empty.

“I’m a lady,” she spat. “And don’t you forget it you cheap wanna-be.”

Caress sucked in her lips to keep from laughing. Astrit liked to tease, but Labrusca was impenetrable and she liked to hit back where she knew it would hurt. Caress could already see Astrit’s usually smug expression souring.

“Alright, alright,” she wheezed. “What idea did you want to propose?”

“I want to undergo a breed change to a pearlcatcher.”

The mirth left Caress as quickly as it had come. “What? Darling, why? Neither your father nor I are pearlcatchers. Did you want to leave the Step and go live in Aphaster proper? They would take you without the breed change.”

“No, I want to stay here, but I think it will be good for the district if it comes out that the next proprietress is a light dragon. Quiet down all those noisy light courts insisting to Lady Telos that she should reign us in, that it’s disgraceful to let a Shadow hub exist on Light territory, blah blah blah…”

“Next…” A smirk tickled the corner of Caress’ mouth. “Next proprietress? That’s quite presumptuous. You do know you’re not my heir, right?”

“Indeed I’m not.” Labrusca grinned, and the twinkle in her eye was not of Lightweaver. “I’ve no intention of you handing it over to me just because I’m your daughter. You’ll give it to me because I’m the best choice.” She held her hands up peaceably. “Of course, that’s a long way off. I have a lot to learn and I know you have no intention of stepping down any time soon.”

“And you have to contend with me,” Astrit growled.

“He’s right,” Caress warned. “I would never let him lay a finger on you if it was anything else, but if you choose direct competition with him–”

“It would tarnish your name and mine to be protected by you, yes. I’m aware. But I don’t intend to lose to an usurper who doesn’t even have the grace to wash his balls and put on a robe for a meeting with his manager. Winning by Shadow rules is part of my proving.”

Caress looked between her daughter and Astrit. The gap between them was wide. In many ways. But her daughter had been the one to throw down the gauntlet. It would be eons–maybe even a full age before she was ready to be a proprietress. But Astrit probably wasn’t going to wait around until she was a legitimate contender. Caress didn’t have to be worried about him because she was very much above his level. Labrusca was brassy, keen, and had the knowledge to pursue this path. But she was still young and without experience.

She leaned back in her chair, and twirled her thumbs. “…Were you intending to also become a courtesan?”

Only that gave Labrusca any kind of pause. Finally, she admitted: “I don’t know.”

Astrit snorted. “So this is nothing but a child’s dream. You have no plan!”

“I’ve already stated my plan, more or less.”

“How are you supposed to become proprietress if you aren’t a courtesan?”

“There’s nothing that says I have to.”

Astrit rolled his eyes and looked beseechingly at Caress, but she merely shrugged. “She’s right. You don’t need to be a courtesan to manage money, property, or workers. Successful networking is also a skill plenty of dragons have without being in the business.”

She rose from her chair and sat by Labrusca’s side on the lounge. Tenderly, she leaned down and kissed her forehead. “I only wanted to know you wouldn’t force yourself just for the position’s sake. The only reason you should make sex work a part of your plan is if you want to.”

Labrusca’s smile was soft and winning and filled with filial pride. “I know, mama. I promise I will be my own kind of proprietress. And whether I do or don’t become a courtesan, I’ll listen to the workers and make sure they continue to be cared for the way I would want to be.”

“Make me those promises later, once you’ve proved yourself. I’ll put out a procurement request for your breed change scroll.”

Labrusca excused herself, and Astrit rose to go after her. His expression betrayed little. He even looked slightly amused in a sort of exasperated way. Like he was about to deal with some minor annoyance that simply couldn’t be helped.  But there was a gleam in those eyes visible even in the near black of the room, and Caress felt a little reality check was due.

“Astrit,” she said just forcefully enough to make him stop. “Labrusca is on the edge of adulthood, but she is still considered juvenile–not even allowed in the district after sundown yet. I hope you’ll remember that and not get carried away. If you do…”

Her eyes took a distinct glow, small and sharp as the light of a cigarette appearing in a pool of shadow that didn’t seem to contain anyone before. A sharp and meaningful aura of animosity gripped Astrit, like a guillotine waiting above his neck on a tense string.

“Not even ash will be left of you.”

#Flight Rising #New Days Dawn #Aphaster Stories #Bramble Step #C: Caress #C: Labrusca #C: Astrit