#and after i wrote a letter to him telling him i appreciated our friendship and i wished him luck back home he embarrassed me

[starryevermore]

the house of snow (8) ✧ coriolanus snow

the house of snow ✧ a royal coryo au | pinterest board| ao3

pairing: king!coriolanus snow x fem!reader

series summary: the king of panem is in search of a bride. and, for reasons you can never understand, coriolanus snow has set his sights on you. it would never be a happy marriage, you’re sure of that. but none of that matters, because when snow decides he wants something, he will do everything in his power to ensure it is his. 

chapter summary: sejanus crosses a line. 

word count: 5,961

series warnings?: 18+ MINORS DNI, royal au, regency au, arranged marriage, rivals to lovers, obsessive!coryo, jealous!coryo, protective!coryo, eventual smut, eventual pregnancy, more tags to be added later

chapter warnings?: scheming sejanus, jealous!coryo, angry!coryo, arguing, threats of execution, pet name (petal), not proofread

Thank you for the invitation. Though it was signed by Coryo, I imagine that you are the one who advocated for my presence at tonight’s opera. I appreciate that you hold our friendship in such high regard. That is why I write to you now. Ma has already confirmed our attendance for tonight, but I was hoping that I might be able to speak to you in private. During intermission, please meet me—

A knock at your door startled you out of your thoughts. 

“Are you nearly ready?” your father asked from the other side of your door. 

“Just a moment more!” you called out, hurrying to return the letter to its envelope. You rose from your seat at the vanity, sparing a glance at your reflection to ensure nothing was out of place, before tucking the letter in your trunk at the end of your bed. 

When you reached your door, you took a breath. Your father was a perceptive man. If he saw your nerves were jumbled, he would have questions and you could not handle questions at this moment. 

Your father smiled as you opened the door. Then he frowned, glancing around the room behind you. “Where is your lady’s maid?”

“I dismissed her after I finished getting ready. I wanted some time to go through my correspondence.” It was perhaps best to tell the truth in that regard. What your father didn’t need to know what that you were just reading the one letter, over and over and over again, trying to surmise if it was real, if there was a trick being played against you. 

“I should hope you were not writing any replies. The last thing you need is to get ink everywhere.”

“No, Papa, I was only reading them and sorting out which ones needed to be replied to first.” Well, that was a lie. But it was harmless enough. You hoped. 

When you received Sejanus’s letter in the mail, it confused you. You were never the sort of friends that wrote to each other. It certainly would have been presumptuous if you had. But when you read the contents of the letter, learned of his proposed plan, it only served to confuse you further. You had spent the entire day reading the letter as your lady’s maid pinned your hair into an elaborate updo, applied your makeup, and even as you dressed. You were half sure that if you read it enough times, Sejanus himself might materialize to tell you it was all just a clever joke. That he didn’t really mean it. You knew Sejanus well enough, though, to know that he was quite serious about these sorts of things. 

Your father nodded, then extended his arm for you to take. You slipped your hand around his arm and allowed him to guide you downstairs. He was silent for a moment while you walked, but when he reached the top of the stairs, he stopped. 

“Is there something wrong?” you asked. Had he already caught on to your ruse? Would he demand to see the letters and know that there was only one? Would he tell Snow? 

“I wanted to thank you for your cooperation,” he said. “I know this match was not what you hoped it to be, but I swore when you were born that I would do everything in my power to ensure that you are taken care of for life. You may not have gotten the love match you wished for, but you will be marrying into a reputable family with the resources available to provide you the best life imaginable. His Majesty will take care of you. He will be a good husband to you.”

“You cannot possibly know that.”

He sniffed, then conceded, “No, I suppose I don’t. But His Majesty was incredibly persistent. He had been asking for your hand for some time—”

“What?”

He blinked, as if he was surprised you didn’t know. But how could you? How could you have known? “When you graduated from the Academy, he asked for your hand. I suppose he hoped for you to join him on base while he served as a Peacekeeper. That certainly wouldn’t have been an appropriate life for you, so I told him no. Then when he returned, he asked again. I told him I wished to see him prove himself to be a worthy husband for you. I never imagined that he would become King, of course, but it was a pleasant surprise. A welcome one, really, all things considered. Just before the season began this year, he asked again. I had no reason to tell him no, except that I wished for him to properly court you before we reached any firm agreement.”

You did the math in your head. If what your father said was true… “I’m four and twenty. If he has been asking since I graduated, then he has wanted to marry me for five years.”

“Longer, I presume. He already had a ring when he asked for your hand the first time.” He looked down at your hand. “The same one, if memory serves well. Cleaner, though.”

That…You didn’t know what to do with that. How long had Snow been vying for your attention? Even with Sejanus’s revelation that Snow’s feelings for you had been genuine, you assumed it was a recent development. Certainly not something that extended back to your schooldays. Had the bickering always been one-sided? No, that couldn’t be…

“We hated each other in school. We tormented each other,” you said, more to yourself than your father. 

But he laughed as if you spoke to him. “Sometimes, boys are mean to the girls they are interested in. Any attention is better than no attention, in their eyes.”

“I don’t know what to do with this,” you admitted. 

“Know that you will be loved. I have never seen any man be so dedicated to something, someone, for it not to be done out of love.”

Downstairs, the butler announced Snow’s arrival. Snow entered the room, his blue eyes immediately finding yours. Your father moved to start down the stairs, but you remained planted firmly in place. A question nagged at your mind. If Snow had been asking for your hand for five years…

“Why did you act like I had to convince Snow to marry me when the season started? If you all but promised him my hand?”

His eyebrows raised. “My little dove, you have never done what you were told. If I said that you were to be wed to His Majesty, you would have all but runaway to avoid it.”

“But why act like it was my responsibility to get his attention? To throw myself at his feet when he already wanted to marry me?”

He was silent for a moment, contemplating his words. Finally, he settled on, “If you thought that you were serving your family by pursuing His Majesty, I had hoped that you would have seen his intentions were pure and good. It might not have been a love match in the traditional sense, but it would not have been a loveless arrangement.”

Nothing, you thought, about Snow was pure and good. “My fate was already set in stone. It didn’t matter what I did, you would have married me off regardless.”

“Don’t put it like that, little dove—”

You dropped your father’s arm, gathered your skirts, and walked down the stairs alone as Snow moved to wait for you at the bottom. A smile grew on his face as he watched you. It looked so genuine. You supposed it was. 

Snow held his arm out to you as you reached the last few steps. You slipped your hand into his, letting him guide you down the final steps, before holding onto his bicep when you reached the ground floor.

“I like that color on you,” he said, eyeing the blue fabric. 

“You should. It took Tigris hours to find the shade closest to your eyes.” Your mother was insistent that, as the future Queen, you should build your wardrobe to complement your future husband as much as possible. 

“I shall send her my compliments then. Are you ready to leave?”

You nodded. 

“Good. We shall be riding alone this evening. Will that be alright?”

It wouldn’t have mattered if it did. Everyone else in your life was making decisions for you. Choosing what was best for you without ever asking what you wanted. What you desired. But you were angry at your father. Angry at both of your parents, because you were sure your mother knew something about this, too. Angry that they both would keep this from you instead of just telling you that you were to marry the King. You might have respected their decision more if they had. 

“I should kill my parents if I have to spend a moment with them tonight.”

Snow blinked. “Should I be concerned?”

“If you value your life, then you shouldn’t be.”

At that, Snow let out a huff of a laugh. “To kill the King would be treason.”

“Is a threat worth the same weight?”

“I would imagine so.”

“Then string me up at the gallows.”

He shook his head at you. He looked amused, like he didn’t take your words seriously. He probably thought you were just bickering to get on his nerves like you always did. “I would make an exception for you, petal.”

You turned your head, looking back up at your father, who still stood at the top of the stairs, dumbfounded. You turned back to Snow. “I wouldn’t kill you, for what it’s worth. As it turns out, you are the only person who has been honest with me recently.”

A frown settled on Snow’s face. “Is everything alright?”

You rolled your tongue over your teeth, contemplating whether you should tell him or not. It would be nice to vent, even to someone like Snow. But you didn’t wish to do it in front of your father, the source of your ire. And you weren’t sure you wouldn’t cry if you did talk about it. “I don’t wish to ruin my evening any further. Shall we go?”

Snow looked you over. Seeing nothing that would demand his immediate concern, he said, “We shall. But if you change your mind…”

“I will tell you if I do.”

The ride to the opera house was quiet. You weren’t sure if Snow was silent because he was giving you the space you asked for, or if he was concerned that your ire might soon turn on him. But he held your hand the entire time, his thumb stroking over your knuckles. Ordinarily, you would have been annoyed at the action. It was merely another way for Snow to exert a level of control over you. This time, however, it brought you some modicum of comfort. 

“I invited the Plinths per your request,” he murmured.

That should have lifted your spirts, but it only made your stomach churn. You couldn’t let Snow know that, of course. As hard as you fought for the Plinths’ presence, he would be less than pleased if you revealed you wished he hadn’t extended the invitation. “Thank you.” You squeezed his hand, more for your comfort than his own. “I appreciate that.”

Even if you didn’t appreciate it in the moment, you probably would appreciate his willingness to abide by your wishes in the future (though, you supposed you did have to coerce him to do it). 

Snow smiled and squeezed your hand back. “And I appreciate your vivaciousness. Even if it makes me want to pull my hair out.”

“That would be a shame,” you said before you could really think. 

“What?”

Well, you already got this far. You might as well finish the thought. “The nicest part about you is your hair. If you pulled it all out, you wouldn’t have anything going for you.”

Snow laughed—a genuine laugh. “If my hair is the key to gaining your affections, then I shall be sure to not pull it out.”

You laughed, too. It was…odd. How light you felt with Snow now. Though you still objected to how he asked for your hand, how your father gave you no choice in this matter, it was different knowing that Snow might not be doing all of this as some way to spite you. To get back at you for all the fights you had with him over the years.

The pit in your stomach burrowed deeper. If Snow found out about Sejanus’s letter, Sejanus’s plan, you could not imagine it ending well. Any semblance of goodwill he held for you could be ruined in a matter of minutes. Would you be set up for a miserable marriage if you withheld the information from him? 

“Snow, I—”

The carriage lurched to a halt. Your words died in your throat as the door opened. Snow stepped out first, then held a hand out for you to take. He helped you out of the carriage, his hands settling on your waist as you gained your footing. Your breath caught in your throat at the feeling. 

As you moved to take Snow’s arm, he asked, “Would you like to wait for your parents or would you like to go our seats?”

You glanced back, seeing your family carriage in the distance. The idea of seeing your father again made you grind your teeth together. “Let’s go inside.”

Snow led you to one of the Lord’s Rooms where you would sit in the upper balcony of the opera house. It had been some years since you had been able to sit in one of the Lord’s Rooms. Since your time at the Academy, you supposed. These seats were saved for the upper echelon of the Capital’s elite. While your parents certainly were wealthy and titled, they could not quite afford such expensive seats. Truthfully, for a long time after the war ended, only the King and some dukes could afford it. It was only in recent years that marquesses, earls, and viscounts could begin sitting there again. 

You took a seat front and center of the Lord’s Room, Snow taking the seat to your left. A smile tugged at his face as you tried to not let your jaw fall slack. 

“Are you pleased with the seats, petal?” he asked. 

“It’s perfect,” you admitted, because it was. 

When you looked over at him, his smile had grown, his chest ever so slightly puffed out. Oh, he was proud of himself for this. You supposed he should be. If he had been vying for your attention for as long as your father insinuated, you imagined there was no limit to the lengths Snow would go to make you happy. 

“Good.”

You were curious, though, to the lengths that Snow would go. “What would you have done if I was displeased?”

“Erect an opera house to your exact specifications.”

You couldn’t help the laugh that escaped your lips. To suggest such a thing was absurd. You were an intelligent young woman to be sure, but you hardly had the education required to design an opera house that both functioned as necessary and would not topple over in a gust of wind. “Then we should be thankful I am content here or else we might have to test the limits to the royal family’s protection from liability.”

Snow waved that off, though he still smirked at you referring to yourself as part of the royal family. “I would send anyone who would even think to sue you to the gallows.”

“So protective,” you teased. There was silence, for a moment, as you looked at Snow. Conversation was flowing easily, with none of its usual bite. Perhaps talking about your conversation with your father would be nice. To at least alleviate the stress you carried in your shoulders. “I am upset with my papa because of you.”

And that, perhaps, was the worst way to begin the conversation when you saw the way Snow’s smile turned into a frown. Oh dear, he probably thought you were trying to pick a fight. “I beg your pardon?”

“What I mean to say is, at the beginning of the season, when it was announced you were seeking a bride, my papa told me that I had to do whatever it took to win you over, even sacrifice my ideals. He made it seem as if it was something I had to do for the family. I refused, of course, but that did nothing to stop you from seeking me out. I wondered why for a long while, spent a long time convinced it was because you were trying to get back at me for all our quibbles over the years. But then I remembered Sejanus had told me that you were interested in me when we were children.”

Snow’s jaw ticked at the mention of Sejanus, so you quickly continued before he could spit some vitriol about your shared friend (for now, at least). 

 “That made no sense to me at the time he told me, of course, but the longer we courted, it started to feel real. Then, this evening, my papa told me that you had asked for my hand three times before. That you fought with me because you liked my attention, not necessarily because you had substantial disagreement with me. And when I asked, he said he lied to me about my needing to sacrifice my ideals to win you over, because he knew that I was already going to be your bride by the end of the season. I cannot respect a man who withholds things from me.”

“I apologize if I disrespected you, but—”

“Not you, my papa. It is clear now that, as far as this season was concerned, you had always made your intentions known. I can admire that. But my papa…I don’t know if I can trust him again. Or my mama, because I am sure she knew something about it, too.”

Snow considered you for a moment, before admitting, “If I had known you were kept in the dark, I would have told you. I assumed you knew I had spoken with your father and that that was part of the reason you kept fighting me. Telling me that you would rather marry anyone else but me.”

“No, I was, for once, clueless.”

He reached over for your hand. You allowed him to take it. “Well, you can rest assured that I will not let you be clueless as long as I can help it. We are to be partners in this marriage. There is no one that I could trust more to run this kingdom and raise our family than you.”

Your stomach twisted. All of this talk of honesty…It made you feel ill. You knew you should tell Snow about Sejanus’s letter. If he ever found out, any trust he had in you would easily be broken. You imagined he would lock you away in the palace, never let you see anyone but the staff and the heirs he would have you produce. And Sejanus…You shuddered at the idea of what Snow would do to him. It would make isolation look kind, you were sure. 

Knowing you had no other choice, you tried again to tell him. “Snow, I wish to tell you one more thing—”

You were cut off by the sound of Sejanus greeting you and Snow. You prayed you did not look as ill as you felt. 

“You look radiant this evening,” Sejanus said to you as he came to your side. Oh, Sejanus, he should not say those sorts of things. Not in front of Snow. Not when you knew how he felt. 

Snow rose to his feet, dropping your hand. It was the polite thing to do as a gentleman, but you knew it was more a power play than anything else. And, though Sejanus towered over Snow, something about the way Snow held himself made him seem like the giant. “She does, doesn’t she? It must be the pre-marital bliss.”

You ignored Snow. Well, if you couldn’t tell Snow about the letter now, you might as well make polite conversation until the next opportunity arose. “Thank you, my lord. You look quite dashing yourself. Did Tigris design your suit?”

“She did,” he beamed. Oh, Sejanus, don’t smile at you like that. “She is the only one I trust to not make me look like a fool.”

“Funny,” Snow muttered. 

You looked at him, your brows furrowed together. Was he trying to suggest Sejanus was a fool? Did Snow know something you didn’t? Your heart skipped a beat. Did he somehow already know of the letter? “What is?”

Snow blinked, as if he hadn’t expected you to hear him. A smile twitched at his lips. “You had said something similar, once.”

“Ah. Well, she is the best. Many people feel quite strongly over her,” you said. You smoothed a wrinkle on your dress. All of the kind talk between you and Coryo made you feel uneasy now that Sejanus was here. “It must be infuriating to know people like Tigris while they tolerate you.”

“Don’t be cruel,” Sejanus chided as Snow’s jaw clenched and unclenched. Don’t join in on the teasing. It will only make things worse. 

“But it’s so easy.”

Sejanus took the seat to your right. From the corner of your eye, you watched as Snow’s hands flexed, as if he was restraining himself from lashing out at Sejanus. Knowing that no one could see your face but Snow and Sejanus, you allowed yourself to roll your eyes. The corner of Sejanus’s mouth twitched up into a smirk. In any other circumstance, you might have been laughing with him at Snow’s expense. This all felt too confusing for you—something you would rather attempt to process in private rather than search your feelings in the moment. So you moved to the edge of your seat, propping your arm against the railing, leaning your cheek against your palm. Snow, as he sat back down, reached for your other hand, and you allowed him to take it. Jealous little thing, he was. But you couldn’t find it in yourself to mind. 

The performance soon began with little more spoken between you, Snow, and Sejanus. Mostly talks about your upcoming nuptials, which made it feel like a knife was being twisted in your stomach. If you didn’t know better, you would have thought that Sejanus was trying to be cruel. Sejanus, though, was something of an angel, and you were sure he didn’t have a mean bone in his body. Perhaps that was why you were so nervous about this. You knew how Snow would read Sejanus’s actions. You knew it would be far from good. 

You tried to push those thoughts away as the performers sang. It had been so long since you had been able to go to the opera, and you wanted to enjoy this moment. Snow would likely bring you to more performances, but just in case, you wanted to have fun while you could. Yet, Sejanus could not leave your mind. He felt entirely too close. It was almost suffocating. And when you dared to glance at him from the corner of your eye, and you saw the way his hand was placed on the arm of his chair, his palm face up, you felt ill. 

So ill, you could not stand it. 

When you dropped Snow’s hand, moving to leave the Lord’s Room, Snow rose to his feet. “Is everything alright, petal?”’

“I’m not feeling well. I just need to step outside for a moment,” you said. 

Sejanus, too, stood. “What’s wrong?”

Oh, don’t do that. Don’t give Snow anymore reason to get upset or concerned.

You waved Sejanus off. “It’s too stuffy in here. I just need a moment.”

Snow watched you, his brows pinched together. You again wondered if he could read your mind, if he knew what you knew. Or perhaps he was acting as if he cared in his own weird way, trying to ascertain if he needed to go with you just in case this was something more serious. “If you wish to leave early, we can. I don’t want you to feel as if we must stay even if you are ill.”

Don’t be kind. You’re not sure you deserve it. “I don’t believe it’s that serious. Please, sit. I shall be back before you can even think to miss me.”

Somewhat reluctantly, Snow sat down. Sejanus remained standing, watching as you turned to leave. It was not until you left the Lord’s Room, sparing a glance over your shoulder, that you saw Sejanus sit down, too.

It was easier to breathe outside of the room. Not much by much, but certainly easier. Being sat between Snow and Sejanus, even if had been something of your own doing, had become something of a personal hell. Damn Sejanus. Damn him. This evening wasn’t supposed to be like this. You were supposed to have a nice evening at the opera. You were supposed to get on Snow’s nerves. You were supposed to laugh with Sejanus and not worry about his insane ideas. It was supposed to be nice, not…whatever it was about to become. 

You found a somewhat secluded area of the foyer and leaned against the wall, trying to steady your heartbeat. You did not know if Snow or Sejanus or both would follow you. If they did, you worried about the other people who were invited eavesdropping on the conversation, realize that there was more than meets the eye regarding your betrothal to Snow. Oh, you would not be able to handle that scandal. 

After a minute or two, the sound of the opera singer ringing in the background, you pushed yourself off the wall. It had been long enough that Snow would become concerned and come looking for you. And it was close enough to intermission that Sejanus—

“You look like you’ve seen death.”

You sucked in a breath. “You need to leave.”

Sejanus stepped closer to you. Too close. He reached out, brushing a loose curl away from your face. You fought the urge to flinch away. “We can go—”

You couldn’t help but laugh. “You cannot truly believe I would leave with you, can you? Sejanus, Snow is the King. He would do everything in his power, utilize every resource at his disposal, to find us and bring us straight to the Capital. You would lose your head, and I would never see daylight again.”

“That should not matter if we love each other. We could find somewhere no one could ever find us. We could live a life all of our own, never have to worry about anything else.”

“But I don’t love you.” 

“Coryo told me that you would rather marry me. That you thought I am an easy man to love. Is that not enough?”

You squeezed your eyes shut. It was so hard to look at him and not cry. Why was he making this so difficult? Why was he putting you in this position? “I might have loved you. In a different life, maybe. But I do not feel what you feel for me. I will not risk my life and yours for a maybe.”

“But you will risk a life of unhappiness with Coryo?”

Why did no one listen to you? 

Why did no one care to ask you what you wanted and actually listen? 

“It is not as if Snow hates me. He cares, in his own way. Even if he shows it in his strange ways. I would want for nothing with him.”

“Can you love him?” Sejanus stepped even closer to you. He cupped your face in his hands. You squeezed your eyes tighter. “Tell me you will be happy with him, and I will leave you alone. I won’t bring this up ever again. I will leave—”

Sejanus was ripped away from you before he could finish speaking. Your eyes flew open. What was happening? Why—

Oh. 

Oh no. 

Snow’s face was blood red, his knuckles nearly matching as he gripped Sejanus’s jacket. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” he spat. 

“Coryo, I—”

“You said you didn’t wish to marry her. You said you wouldn’t try to take her from me. Was that a life? Were you trying to catch me with my guard down? What happened to not wanting to hurt me?”

“Please—” 

You had never seen Snow so angry in all your life. Not even when you would spend every day at the Academy arguing with him. Not even when you had told him that you considered marrying Sejanus. Was Snow going to hurt Sejanus? He looked angry enough to kill. You couldn’t let that happen. 

“Snow—” you tried to say, but he did not hear you. 

“I should have the Peacekeepers drag you through the streets, throw you in a cell, and let you rot. I should have you executed,” Snow hissed. “This is treason.”

“Please, Snow—” you tried again. 

You tried to think. Tried to figure out something, anything, to say that could quell Snow’s anger. But you couldn’t even get through to him. It’s like he didn’t even realize you were speaking to him. Oh, what could you say?

“I should make your execution a fucking spectacle. I should make everyone watch as you are hung—”

“Coryo, stop!”

Snow’s head snapped to you. His pale blue eyes looked you up and down, as if he was trying to determine if he should direct his ire to you. He let go of Sejanus’s jacket with a push. Ordinarily, it wouldn’t have made Sejanus stumble, but the sheer weight of everything brought the man tumbling down. Snow took a step towards you, his voice dangerously low as he asked, “Why should I?”

“I was telling him no. I don’t want to go with him,” you said, careful not to say Sejanus’s name. Saying his name in ordinary circumstances drove Snow insane. You hated to imagine what he might do if you did so now. He might just kill Sejanus with his bare hands. His hands. You glanced down, then reached for one of Snow’s hands. It was clenched into a fist, but he allowed you to open his hand, intertwine your fingers with his own. “I want to marry you, Coryo. I want to be your wife.”

Snow stared at your connected hands. He squeezed your hand. It looked like he couldn’t believe this was real. “He followed you out here. Were you planning to run away?”

You couldn’t lie to him. Not now. “He sent a letter this morning. He wanted to run away at intermission, when it was easy to disappear in a crowd. I…I tried to tell you, before he arrived this evening. I never intended to go with him.”

“He followed you.”

I didn’t ask him to, you wanted to say. But you knew that wouldn’t do anything to diminish Snow’s anger. Instead, you said, “I wish you followed me instead.”

When Snow looked at you, you could see his eyes softened ever so slightly. “I thought you might want some space.”

Though you did not wholly believe in what you were saying, you knew it was working to calm him down. “All I want is you, Coryo.”

For a second, a smile began to tug at Snow’s lips. But it vanished all too quick as he heard Sejanus begin to rise to his feet. “He needs to be punished.”

“Don’t have him killed.” When Snow’s eyes narrowed, you quickly added, “I don’t want the death of your friend, your best friend, to weigh heavily on your conscious. I-I know you’re upset now, rightfully so, but that should not mean you send him to the gallows.”

His jaw clenched and unclenched as he weighed your words. “Then what do you suggest I do? If we are to be partners in life, you shall have a say in carrying out punishments.”

Oh, he was being cruel. Perhaps rightfully so. Snow would not harm you physically, but he would not be so above hurting you emotionally. You had not told him about the letter, and in his eyes, you were sure that put you on a similar level of treason as Sejanus’s actions. 

You fought the urge to look at Sejanus. “He shall enlist in the Peacekeepers,” you decided. “You can ensure he has an assignment far away from the Capital. Give him time to consider his betrayal.”

Snow said nothing. You worried he would dismiss your suggestion and call for the Peacekeepers anyways. That he would force you to watch as Sejanus was hung. You stepped closer, pressed a quick kiss to the corner of his mouth. “Please, Coryo?”

When you pulled away, Snow was blinking a mile a minute. You prayed that was enough to convince him, to show him that you were loyal to him. To spare Sejanus’s life.

“Go,” Snow spat at Sejanus. 

Sejanus gave a shaky nod. He dared to look at you, his mouth beginning to open. Whatever he intended to say, though, was lost. 

“If you are going to say anything, it should be to express your gratitude to her for sparing you from an execution.”

Sejanus swallowed. “Thank you.”

“If I learn that you have not enlisted by morning, however, I will follow through with stringing you up at the gallows.”

Sejanus nodded again and quickly left before more could be said. For his sake, you prayed he went straight to the enlistment offices. You weren’t sure if they were open at this time of night, but if he went now, he might be able to enlist first thing in the morning when they did open. 

You let your head fall against Snow’s chest. His heart thump’d, thump’d, thump’d quickly. You wound your arms around his waist. “Thank you,” you whispered. And as he hugged you back, you added, “And I apologize for not telling you of his plans. I…I didn’t think he would be so foolish to try to follow through on them. Or, I suppose, I hoped he wouldn’t.”

“You truly wouldn’t have left with him?”

“I only want a life with you, Coryo. You…may not be an easy man to love, but that does not mean I cannot love you.” Maybe if you said it enough times, you mused, it would become true. 

Snow pressed a kiss to the crown of your head. “I want to move up the wedding date.”

You shut your eyes. “You’ll work poor Tigris to the bone trying to finish my gown in time,” you tried to tease. Your heart wasn’t quite in it. 

“You could show up at the altar in a dressing gown for all I care. I don’t want anyone else trying to steal you away before I can make you mine.”

If this was the sort of anger you would have to grapple with should anyone else try— “Nor do I.” You pressed a kiss to his chest, just over his heart. A print of your lipstick left behind a stain. “I truly am sorry, Coryo.”

Maybe if you called him by his pet name enough times, he would forget this ever happen. 

“Don’t let it happen again.”

As you stood there in his tight embrace, people began spilling out into the foyer. Intermission, it seemed, had arrived. And not a single one of them were aware of events that just transpired. 

How lucky they were. 

#the house of snow: a royal coryo au #coriolanus snow imagine #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow x fem!reader #coriolanus snow x female reader #coriolanus snow x y/n #coriolanus snow x you #coriolanus snow fanfiction #coriolanus snow fan fiction #coriolanus snow fanfic #coriolanus snow fan fic #coriolanus snow fic #starrywrites #starryevermore

[my-deer-history]

Francis Kinloch in the Müller-Bonstetten letters: Part 1

Here is the first batch of translated instances where Francis Kinloch is mentioned in letters written to Karl Viktor von Bonstetten by Johannes von Müller, a gay Swiss historian who Kinloch lived with while studying in Geneva. Throughout this period (early 1775 onwards), Müller is attempting to write his history of Switzerland, and the American colonies are starting to actively rebel against England.

The original letters were mostly written in German (source), with some translated later into French (source). I have transcribed and translated most of the mentions, but there's quite a lot, so I'm going to divide this into several posts. (@john-laurens - enjoy!)

My translations below, with the German and/or French transcripts under the cut. As always, corrections and improvements are greatly appreciated!

10 March 1775

I advance in the sciences; you love me, because I do you; Kinloch, who gives away his heart so sparingly, addresses his letters to the beloved of my heart,* and we see each other daily [...] When I am by Kinloch’s side at Bonnet’s, and spend an hour talking with him, I am happy and cheerful; thus, says the Quran, does a lightning bolt suddenly illuminate the darkest of nights, but the shadow becomes darker after him.

*This follows a mention in an earlier undated 1775 letter that Kinloch asserted he needed at least one year before he could call anyone "friend". Clearly it happened in a matter of weeks here.

18 Aug 1775

…and Kinloch’s questions made me more aware of many points of our constitutions, especially our lack of political arithmeticians. […] Keep well. Kinloch will write to you soon.

21 Aug 1775

If cruel fate separates Kinloch from me, I will hope to have 25 to 30 louis more per year, with which I will be able to carry out this plan of study by spending the summer months in some of the cantons.

23 Aug 1775

I also do not have time [in this letter] to continue my observations along the mark, the Zurich lake, into the drawing rooms of Füsslin, Heidegger, Gessner, Hirzel, Bodmer, etc., nor to assure you sufficiently of Gessner’s friendship; nor to tell you how much I augment my knowledge of Helvetia [Switzerland], and with what pleasure I read Livius with Kinloch; nor to paint Kinloch’s enthusiasm* for you, and his anger with me because it has been so long since I wrote to you; nor my irreconcilable hatred for you, B. To declare to you in very thunderous and defeating expressions that, contrary to your word and honour, despite my repeated requests in the name of the holiest friendship, you have committed the atrocious crime of not writing me any letters to this day. Write to me today, therefore!

*The archaic meaning of the German Enthusiasmus is more along the lines of fervour, inspiration, or passionate feeling than the modern “enthusiasm” suggests.

“Thursday” [1775]*

We are waiting at present for a letter from Mr Boone, which will inform us whether we, Kinloch and I, may travel together in France, or if I must stay where I am. In the latter case, I will quietly await some opportunity to travel with an Englishman, which would let me see Europe and fix me some income. If Mr Boone and other friends do not find anyone, I will go to England with K at around the end of next year and I will not leave him even if he goes to America.

*The exact dating of this letter is unclear, but it is placed here in the source. 

Wednesday, Dec 1775

At this very moment, Kinloch is writing a letter to Mr Boone, which might influence my future destination. If I cannot live as I had hoped, according to what I have told you, I would hope that in the case that I must spend my life in solitude, that I may share yours; but that is the way to live!

26 Dec 1775

I find myself in the midst of great doubts. Kinloch cannot stay here past the end of March; we are waiting for letters from England to inform us whether we have enough money to travel together. The American matters make it very uncertain. And even when this journey is over, this unrest will hinder us from carrying out many projects. And now also comes the newly confirmed expedition against Carolina. In this land, so say the letters, is everything in such disarray, that reason has completely lost its power, all courts have decided that no law shall be enforced anymore, all the stations have mixed together, and the clergy preach nothing but rebellion. And the rebellious faction is so powerful that they have decided to send all women and children into the interior of the country, to burn the whole city of Charlestown to ash, and to fight the English over its ruins. Imagine Kinloch’s heart, and his noble mother in this horrid land, fleeing, exposed to all the malice of the soldiers, all the bouts of depredation, hunger and shortages of all kinds. It is very possible that Kinloch himself will lose everything, that his plantations will be laid waste. Imagine for yourself what we must think and feel about all of this. 

9 Jan 1776

We have letters from England that confirm the degree to which the entire coast of the North American sea is given to flames and devastation; they also state that the fleet against Carolina has already sailed. Kinloch and I have developed a project for our destination, which will, in all likelihood, be carried out for our shared benefit. At the beginning of April, my friend will go to France to a provincial town; I will go to Genthod to the wise men (these we, i.e. those from Genthod and I, are still keeping a secret at this time on account of certain people). Towards autumn, I will go to Marseille or Lyon, find Kinloch there, go with him to Rome and from there through Tyrol and Bavaria down into the Netherlands, right to the sea. In this way, I will be able to complete most of my material collecting in the summer and have an educational and enjoyable winter. And beyond that? you will ask me. Within one year, it will become clear if America is still inhabitable, if Lord North is still prime minister, if Kinloch will settle in England or America. We will decide accordingly.

19 Feb 1776

Your letters always bring me great pleasure, but it has been a long time since any letter or occurrence has caused me as much pleasure as your second-to-last one did. Your eloquence is Demosthenic when friendship has inspired you, but your heart is full of the greatest and noblest virtues. Bonnet and Kinloch felt a real enthusiasm for you. I however am more determined than ever to follow your advice. [Lists several of his good fortunes.] Mr Bonnet, Mrs Bonnet and Kinloch and all my best friends, besides philosophy and politics - to whom do I owe all of these? Ask yourself!

10 March 1775

In den Wissenschaften schreite ich fort; Sie lieben mich, wie ich Sie; Kinloch, der so karg sein Herz versschenkt, addressirt seine Billets to the beloved of my heart, und wir sehen uns täglich [...]  An der Seite Kinlochs bei Bonnet, und nun ich eine Stunde mich mit Ihnen unterhalten, bin ich glücklich und heiter; so, sagt der Koran, erleuchtet ein Blitzstrahl plötzlich die dickste der Nächte, aber die Finsfterniß wird dicker nach ihm.

18 Aug 1775

Les questions de Kinloch ont fixé plus particulièrement mon attention sur plusieurs points de nos constitutions, et m'ont fait sentir surtout combien nous manquons d'habiles calculateurs politiques. […] Adieu, mon ami: Kinloch vous écrira bientôt.

…auch haben Kinlochs Fragen mich auf eine Menge Punkte unserer Verfassungen, besonders auf unsre Armuth an politischen Arithmetikern aufmerksamer gemacht [...]  Gehab dich wohl. Kinloch 

21 Aug 1775

Si mon mauvais sort me sépare de Kinloch, je souhaiterais avoir par an 25 à 30 louis de plus pour me mettre à portée de réaliser ce plan d'étude en passant l'été dans quelques Cantons.

Wenn das harte Schicksal Kinloch von mir trennt, so wünsche ich mir jährlich 25—30 Louis d'ors, mit denselben würde ich in einigen Kantonen in den Sommermonaten diesen Plan ausführen können

23 Aug 1775

Je n'ai pas le temps non plus dé vous mener avec moi le long du lac de Zurich, dans les cabinets de Füsslin, de Heidegger, de Gessner, de Hirzel, de Bodmer, etc, ni de vous assurer tout au long de l'amitié de Gessner; ni de vous dire combien j'augmente mes connaissances sur l'Helvétie, et avec quel plaisir je lis Tite-Live avec Kinloch; ni de vous peindre l'enthousiasme de Kinloch pour vous, et sa colère contre moi parce que j'ai été si longtemps sans vous écrire; ni enfin de vous déclarer dans les termes les plus foudroyants une haîne irréconciliable, parce qu'au mépris de votre parole d'honneur, de mes prières et de notre amitié, vous ne m'avez point encore écrit. Ecrivez-moi donc aujourd'hui même!

Aber die Zeit erlaubt mir nicht, meine Observationen durch die Mark, den Zürichersee hinunter, durch Füßlins, Heideggers, Ge��ners, Hirzels, Bodmers &c. &c. Zimmer fortzusetzen, noch Ihnen Geßners Freundschaft für Sie genug zu vermelden, oder meine Zunahme an helvetischen Kenntnissen oder mein Vergnügen über meine Lectur des Livius mit Kinloch, und Kinlochs Enthusiasmus für Sie und Zorn über mich, der ich Ihnen so lang nicht geschrieben, noch meinen unversöhnlichen Haß gegen Euch, B. Euch in recht donnernden und niederschlagenden Ausdrücken anzukündigen, da` Sie wider Wort und Ehre ungeachtet meiner wiederholten Bitten gegen die allerheiligste Freundschaft das gräuliche Verbrechen begangen haben, bis auf diesen Tag mir keinen Brief zu schreiben. So schreiben Sie mir dann heut noch!

“Thursday” [1775]

Nous attendons à présent une lettre de Mr. Boone qui nous apprendra si nous pouvons, Kinloch et moi, voyager ensemble en France, ou si je dois rester où je suis. Dans ce dernier cas j'attendrai paisiblement quelque occasion de voyager avec un Anglois, qui me feroit voir l'Europe et qui me fixeroit quelque rente. Si Mr. Boone et d'autres amis n'en trouvent point, j'irai en Angleterre avec K. sur la fin de l'année prochaine et je ne le quitterai pas même, quand it va en Amérique.

*written in French

Wednesday, Dec 1775

Dans ce moment même Kinloch écrit à Mr. Boone une lettre, qui influera peut-être sur ma destination future. Si je ne peux pas vivre comme je le souhaiterois, d'après ce que je Vous ai dit, je souhaiterois, que dans le cas, qu'il me fallut passer ma vie dans la solitude, je puisse partager la votre; mais le moyen de vivre!

26 Dec 1775

Gegenwärtig befinde ich mich in sehr großen Zweifeln. Länger als bis im Märzen kann Kinloch nicht hier bleiben; wir erwarten aus England Briefe, ob wir Geldes genug haben, mit einander zu reisen. Die amerikanischen Sachen machen es sehr ungewiß. Und wenn auch diese Reisen zu Ende find, so werden diese Unruhen uns an der Ausführung vieler Projekte hindern. Nun kommt noch die neulich beschlossene Expedition gegen Karolina. In diesem Land, wir haben Briefe, ist alles in solcher Unordnung, daß der Rath vollkommen seine Gewalt verloren, alle Gerichte beschlossen sind, kein Gesetz mehr vollstreckt wird, alle Stände sich vermengt haben, und die Geistlichen nichts als Aufruhr predigen. Auch ist die rebellische Faction so muthig, daß sie beschlossen haben, alle Weiber und Kinder ins innere Land zu versenden, die ganze Stadt Karlstown in Asche zu verwandeln, und über den Ruinen derselben sich mit den Engländern zu schlagen. Stellen Sie sich Kinlochs Herz vor, und seine edle Mutter in diesem fürchterlichen Land, in der Flucht, ausgesetzt allem Muthwillen der Soldaten, allen Anfällen der Verwüstung, dem Hunger und dem Mangel. Es ist sehr möglich, daß Kinloch selbst alles verliert, daß seine Pflanzungen verwüstet werden. Stellen Sie sich vor, was wir bei alledem denken und fühlen müssen.

9 Jan 1776

 Aus England haben wir Briefe, welche bestätigen, wasmaßen das ganze Ufer der nordamerikanischen See den Flammen und der Verwüstung gewidmet sey; auch sagen Sie, die Flotte gegen Karolina sey bereits abgesegelt. Kinloch und ich haben über unsre Bestimmung ein Project entworfen, welches allem Ansehen nach zu unserm gemeinschaftlichen Nutzen ausgeführt werden wird. Anfangs Aprillens geht mein Freund nach Frankreich in eine Provinzialstadt; ich nach Genthod zu den Weisen (dieses halten wir, d. i. die von Genthod und ich gewisser Leute wegen noch zur Zeit geheim). Gegen den Herbst gehe ich nach Marseille oder Lyon, finde daselbst Kinloch, gehe mit ihm nach Rom und von da durchs Tirol und Bayern hinunter in die Niederlande bis ans Meer. So werde ich diesen Sommer meine meisten Materialiensammlungen vollenden können und einen lehrreichen und `vergnügten Winter haben. Und was ferner? werden Sie mich fragen. In Jahresfrist wird es sich zeigen, ob Amerika noch wohnbar, ob Lord North noch Staatsminister sey, ob Kinloch sich in England oder in Amerika niederlassen werde. Accordingly werden wir uns entschließen.

19 Feb 1776

Vos lettres me font toujours grand plaisir mais aucune d'elles et en général, aucun événement ne m'a causé, depuis longtemps, un plaisir aussi vif que votre avant-dernière. Vous avez l'éloquence de Demosthène quand l'amitié vous inspire, et votre cœur est ce qu'il y a au monde de plus noble et de meilleur. Bonnet et Kinloch vous aiment avec enthousiasme, et moi, je suis plus déterminé que jamais à suivré en tout vos conseils. […] Mais, et Bonnet, et Mad. Bonnet, et Kinloch, et mes meilleurs amis, et les lumières que j'ai acquises en philosophie et en politique, à qui dois-je tout cela, mon ami? vous le savez.

Ihre Briefe machen mir immer sehr viel Vergnügen, aber seit langer Zeit hat kein Brief und keine Begebenheit mir so viel Freude verschafft, als Ihr vorletzter. Ihre Beredsamkeit ist Demosthenisch, wenn Sie von der Freundschaft begeistert sind, Ihr Herz aber der größten und edelsten Tugenden voll. Bonnet und Kinloch haben einen wahren Enthusiasmus für Sie gefühlt. Ich aber bin entschlossener, als noch Ihrem Rath zu folgen. [...] Hrn. Bonnet, Md. Bonnet und Kinloch und alle meine besten Freunde, nebst der Philosophie und Politik, wem bin ich alles schuldig? fragen Sie sich!

#francis kinloch #johannes von müller #karl viktor von bonstetten #18th century history #queer history #demosthenes mention! #happy valentine's day

[sagechan]

i’m thinking of that post that’s like “it’s good and healthy to have friendships with people of different ages.”

i’m thinking of last night, when i sat with the 70 year-old husband of the woman who’d been in my creative writing classes eight years ago. she died in 2020, and now i visit her husband every month. i’m helping him publish her novel that she worked on for ten years but didn’t finish before we lost her. we lost her. her husband, her children, and me, who was only 19 when i met her in class and immediately she was like “you’re one of my kids now, even though all my kids are in their 30s and married and i would be ‘too old’ to have children again, you’re my kid now.” and we would joke in that class that she really was our “poetry mom.” but more than that, she was my friend. i wrote her letters when i moved across the country for grad school. we sent each other long emails about our lives and our families. we signed notes to each other “Your No. 1 Fan,” because we were each other’s first and dearest readers of the writing we were just beginning to mature in, me in my twenties and she in her sixties.

i’m thinking of last night, when her husband was telling me the story of how hard she could be on their kids when it came to school--because she loved them, because she expected the best from them and wanted the best for them--when he stopped speaking and his eyes lifted past my head, and he stared at something for a few moments. then he nodded to it and said, “that’s our wedding photo.” and i turned and it’s there behind me and there they are, just kids themselves. time folds in on itself, and he is remembering another story, and he says suddenly, “everything, all the things you ever fought about, it doesn’t matter. none of them matter. and you regret every fight, when they’re gone, you stay up at night thinking about it, trying to remember what you were so angry about, and you can’t, it isn’t there, you can’t remember.” and I say, “the sweet and happy moments only exist because there are the bitter moments too.” and he lifts his hands in a shrug and says, “you never know when you are in the sweet part of life. you never know to look around and appreciate it. until the bitter, the bad, comes along, and you struggle through it, and when you come out the other side, there is happiness again. and the love is always there.”

i’m thinking of how we treat our elders. i’m thinking of how many times i’ve read about people regretting their fights when their partner dies. and i’m thinking of how here, before me, is this real person who has experienced such a loss i will never know. i have lost the exact same person, but we knew her differently. and he is sharing it with me all the same. and i’m thinking again of how it is good and healthy and normal and necessary to build and maintain relationships with people of all ages. to keep and guard the memories of culture, and connection, and community. to receive the instructions of how to live and how to love from those who came before. to pass them on to those who will come after. to sit with people and hear their stories and understand that they are right there in front of you, still living, still in love.

#sage talks #personal #this conversation with H last night absolutely knocked me on my ass #i miss her so much #death mention #grief

[sugas-sweetheart]

Hi!!!!!! If you still have a love letter slot, could I make a request? Could I request a confession letter from Atsumu Miya? He and the reader have been frenemies forever, but the reader finally got asked out by another boy and he finally realized his feelings? Just the idea of atsumu addressing someone who he’s been beefing with showing his admiration, and finally confessing everything he loves about them would make my heart 🥰

A/N: tysm!! first event request done <3 I'm still not sure how i feel about the banner for this but i can always change it, i hope you enjoy this little letter!! this made me realise that I've never written for atsumu so it was a little bit of a learning curve and i apologise for any ooc-ness, enjoy <3

genre/warnings: part of blog bday event, atsumu's pov, i used I so much in this first person things are so weird to write, atsumu being a slightly oblivious idiot with a crush on his frenemy, tsumu ooc-ness as this is my first time writing for him, i just think he’d be a bit of a bumbling idiot trying to confess

Pairing: Miya Atsumu x gn!reader 

Format: written letter (wc: 520)

reblogs appreciated!

Hey Idiot, 

         I know this may come off as odd, or random. Miya Atsumu voluntarily writing a letter to you? What happened to him? Well, it was more prompted by Aran and ‘Samu, but that’s another story for another day. Writing this all down seemed like a waste of time at first, I was going to wait and maybe do all of this in person, but I’m not very good at that. Whenever I’m around you there’s like a fog that makes me forget what I was thinking about. The team sometimes makes fun of me for it, but it took a long while for me to accept and realise why it happens. 

Some people think things like this are romantic, some people prefer it to be done face to face - I can only hope you don't mind the countless attempts it took me to write this instead of being upfront and doing it in person where I’d probably not get anything but a sarcastic comment out before actually telling you the truth. 

In short, please for the love of everything don't go on that date Saturday night. Make an excuse, make plans with someone else, make plans with me. Just don’t go on that date. Maybe it was seeing how you smiled with them that made me do this and how I wanted it to be me that you smiled at like that. I want you to look at me that way when I tell a joke or compliment you. I want to see the way your eyes light up watching me play with my team, I want to support you in your hobbies the way you do when I spot you hidden at the back of the crowd at our matches. I want to take you out on the weekends, to spend hours huddled together watching movies you like. I want you to be mine and for me to be yours, but I get all defensive when you’re around because our friendship started out with playful bullying and it never stopped and now being nice to you without any forewarning feels strange. Even starting this letter I couldn’t pick a sweet nickname to use for you, but maybe we could try some of those in time? Only if you’re okay with them of course. 

I think why I wrote this in the end was the fear of seeing your reaction. If you read this and you do go out with them, this can all be put behind us, you can ignore me, whatever helps you and me move on from this painfully long letter, but I couldn’t say nothing because one day I’d say something stupid and blurt it out in public. I like you. I really like you, and whatever you feel for me is okay. If you ignore me after this, that’s okay. Equally, if you were to ask me what I would plan for us to do Saturday night I would be ecstatic and look forward to it all week. Take your time, I’ll always be waiting for you. 

From, 

Your favourite twin, Miya Atsumu

reminder that my event slots were still never filled so they are still attainable, event post linked here <3

#haikyuu!! #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu #atsumu hcs #atsumu x reader #msby atsumu #atsumu fluff #miya atsumu #miya atsumu x reader #miya atsumu x you #miya atsumu x y/n #atsumu x gender neutral reader #haikyuu fluff #hq atsumu #hq headcanons #2nd birthday bash 🎉

[menalez]

hey i just wanted to say thank you for talking about your SA. i actually had a very similar experience w/ a guy i was really good friends with in high school.

he was my best friend, but i got pressured into dating him by my friends, family, his parents. (his mom guilted me into being w/ him 🙄 practically stalked me til i said yes)

he ended up abusing me for nearly 3 years.

and in that time i wrote stupid notes or letters to him making sex jokes cuz i was a KID. the lawyer we hired blamed me for his actions bc of the letters bc of he did 🤦🏻‍♀️

but even still, some weird part of me misses our friendship that we had before other people started meddling in our business. it makes me feel guilty sometimes, and other times it's relief. iunno trauma is weird.

uh but yeah. thank you for sharing, i know it's hard to talk about and be open with this sort of thing. i just wanted to say that you aren't alone as a lesbian who wrote dumb things as a kid or who missed/misses what friendship you had before your friend SA'd.

i think it's also extremely fucked up for people to judge your sexuality based on the way you tried to cope in the past, let alone now.

just know that a lot of women, myself included, really appreciate you being here c:

hey thank u for sharing ur story with me ❣️ honestly the thing that rly hurt about it looking back is it was in a v vulnerable time in my life. i rly had practically nobody. i lost almost all my friends bc i was suddenly a "whore" for getting raped. i would get these messages on all my social media accounts like "you deserved it" "you were seducing him" "haha hes living a good life and youre cutting yourself looooooooool pathetic!!". my friend group went from a lot of my school (small school but its normal for bahrain) to like ... 4 people in bahrain. one of them was that guy that had a crush on me since we were like 11. he would stand between me n my rapist and went to the principal about it so that i would have lesser proximity and was one of the only people who seemed to empathise w my situation. i felt quite indebted to him n everyone would repeatedly call me an idiot and tell me i should be with him and my mom would say she wishes he could be her son in law or w/e and at one point he started insisting that we are together despite me telling him no we are not & that i dont want to be w him. i gave up on saying no eventually n just went along with all of it. i felt like i was stupid for saying no ??? ppl kept telling me i was n i was like huh i guess i am. never said no again rly, up until the very end where i could no longer ignore it n keep putting myself thru any of that. after leaving that situation i saw how fucked up it was that there were all these obvious signs and me obviously signalling TO HIS FACE that i dont want to be w him, that im not interested in him, that it was further traumatising me n harming my mental health, and also the times where what he was doing would fall under SA....idk i felt stupid for facing one male friend taking advantage of me and then another one doing it soon after right in front of my face n i thought it was somehow different and normal and ok simply bc i wasnt getting downright threatened. but i know if someone else didnt hear my rape story n tell me "uh thats rape and thats fucked up" to begin with i wouldve also probably let that happen again n again too n not thought much about that while getting traumatised until afterwards too.

anyways... im glad that ur out of that situation. im sorry that we have some shared trauma there. shit like this is why i dont even trust "nice guys" anymore fr. i dont think that many ppl can rly understand that sort of situation and i can get how its confusing, bc it was a confusing time for me too. but idk why they think theyd know better than me about my own life either lol

[travis-and-jodi]

FEBRUARY 18, 2007

Abe & Jodi

Dabbling in Mormonism, Magic Underwear & Abe (Part 2)

Abe Abdelhadi gave 6 media interviews, authored a blog and wrote an essay on this case (Souce: Monica Lindstrom, 27 Jan 2016).

Interview on Jan 16, 2013: Abe met Jodi in August 2006, they had lunch and one date in December 2006. He was 17 years older than her. After dinner, they were kissing in a parking lot, and Abe felt Jodi’s underwear. The defense portrayed Abe as “a sleazy middle-aged guy trying to pick up a younger woman” (Source: Steve Kraft, 27 Jan 2015).

Jodi felt guilty about seeing Abe, and didn’t see him again. Travis was jealous, and called Abe “Soul-less” in the sex tape. Jodi wrote an email to Abe ending the relationship, but it was sent to Travis and not to Abe, apparently in an effort to placate Travis’ jealousy.

Abe testified about the date they had in the penalty retrial on Jan 27, 2015. In one of the HLN interviews, Abe says he called Jodi in June 2008 after he learned of Travis’ death, suspecting she killed him, and Jodi called him back.

Jodi’s “Dear John” letter

Hi Abe

I’m writing you for a few reasons. Let me get the more trivial ones out of the way first. I tried reaching you by phone during the week without any luck. Probably because I’ve been calling at ridiculous hours of the night after I’m off work. Like the last three months, I find myself once again near the end of the billing cycle of my cell phone, out of minutes, and paying through the teeth to talk on the phone during daylight hours. But I digress. The reason I’ve been trying to reach you is to let you know that I was listening to the online version of “Never Before never again” at freedomvideos.com (?) and some thoughtful jerk laced a voice over on Mr. Stonecipher toward the end of the video. He says “there has never been a better time or a better opportunity than right now at Pre-Paid Loser” I am not joking. That’s what you hear. If you want to hear it for yourself, go the video. It’s about 11 minutes and 45 seconds into it. Just thought I would make you aware of that, since you use that on occasion for your prospects.

Jodi Arias & Mr. Stonecipher

The other, and more important reason that I am writing to you is regarding our friendship. You have been a wonderful source of information on many levels and I appreciate your insight and perspective. I’m glad that we met, and I’m glad we are friends. But after considering a few aspects of our friendship, such as the conversation we had the other night revisiting the dream you had to the hug we exchanged at the last AFT in Anaheim. I think we should re-think our conduct toward each other. I know that between you and me those things are simply gestures of a functioning friendship between a couple of single individuals. Up until recently I’ve considered myself single, and I never would have considered it to be inappropriate or even given it a second thought. Although I’m not married and I’m not Travis’ girlfriend.

From now going forward I feel that you and I should keep a friendly distance. I’m certainly not suggesting that we ignore each other, but even something as simple as a hug can be misconstrued as something it is not. You and I and everyone are hugging everyone else in this business. We are like a big family. So it may seem somewhat like a foreign request on my part, but you’re a pretty savvy guy, so I know you’ll understand.

“Break Up” by Agnes Trachet

I’m aware that you like me, and you’ve made that pretty clear. I’m flattered by that. I hesitate to tell you all of this only because I am reminded of the stories you’ve shared with me about women taking it the wrong way (like when you prospect them, for example). Your internal dialogue is less than friendly (“Look, lady. I didn’t ask and I’m not interested in you anyway!”) So in considering that, please know that I’m not assuming that you’re still pursuing me or that you see me as some kind of prize that you’re striving (??) for. We rarely talk outside of PPL events, and I am fully aware that you have a life completely outside the realm of “Jodi” which involves a blossoming business, a large social circle and network of people, and most likely many other female interest as well.

You already know that I’m seeing Travis. I’ve never divulged many details about our relationship simply because I consider certain details to be sacred and private, and should be kept between him and I anyway. I know I’ve told you that we are not in a committed relationship, but regardless of our status, I care so deeply about his. I often ask myself, how would Travis feel about this? Or, how I would I feel if Travis were doing what I’m doing right now with someone else? In fact, this reasoning has been a compelling force behind all of my actions, decisions and conduct as of late.

Now I’m sure you’re already aware of this, but when we hugged at the Grove a few weeks ago, my intention was nothing more than to warmly greet a friend and business associate. But I’ve since given this further thought and I’ve asked myself, would I have acted the same if Travis were there that day? In truth, I would not have. And this leads me to question my own character. I don’t want to be inconsistent, especially not when it involves something and someone that is so important to me. Granted, human behavior is often modified and adjusted under various circumstances. Everyone does this, it is natural. But at this point, none of that matters to me. What matters to me is how that which I am accountable for would make Travis feel. I care more about him than I ever have. His happiness is of cardinal significance to me, and his feelings and opinions I value more greatly than gold.

I didn’t write this email to expound upon my secret worship-Travis-agenda. I only wanted to clear a few things up, if not for you, then for myself. For I’m sure you already “get” all of this anyway. But at least now I’ve said it, and I can rest easier knowing that we are on the same page about things. I think you’re a great person who’s never had a single bad intention toward me, and I appreciate all of the time you’ve taken to impart to me your knowledge, perspectives, and experiences. I will certainly see you around at events, to which you bring a lively energy.

Take care until then, Jodi

Take care until then, Jodi

Abe Abdelhadi, a man who dated Jodi Arias and was a colleague of Travis Alexander recalls his experience with Jodi. His name was mentioned in the infamous phone sex tape. In previous interviews Abe has described the story of his date with Jodi one night in Pasadena. He said the date eventually involved kissing and as they were kissing he noticed that Jodi wasn’t wearing “magic underwear” (a term used for garments worn by Mormons). After mentioning this to Jodi, to his surprise she replied, “No but there’s magic IN them.” Abe made the argument that this experience shows that Jodi was not as sexually “naïve” as she may have portrayed to have been to the court.

In this segment Abe says that the date was “fun” and that he didn’t know she was going to kill anyone. What’s haunting is that this is probably the same way Travis Alexander felt about his relationship with Jodi, right up until the moments before he died.

(PK Report)

FROM THE SEX TAPE:

Jodi: I know you don’t like Abe (she waits)… 

Travis: Yeah, well he’s soulless. He’s like at the top of the list. He’s… 

Jodi: (Interrupting) I wouldn’t call him soulless, I would just call him like focused, like business… 

Travis: He’s not focused on business. 

Jodi: I don’t know… 

Travis: If he was focused on business, he’d be a solid E.D. (executive director, I believe), for starters… 

Jodi: He told me the other day that he hopes you get your ring. 

Travis: HE told you the other day? 

Jodi: Yeah. 

Travis: (After a pause) How the hell did that come up? 

Jodi: Ummm….because I went to, I went to leave him a comment on his MySpace, because I haven’t talked to him in like…four months, and I was just…and he left one for me after not talking to me for four months saying, who, what, where, or something, and I was going to say the same thing back, just to throw it out there, kind of thing, and I went to put ‘add comment’, and it said, you must be this user’s friend in order to make comments about them. So, I was like, he’s always been my MySpace friend, so I texted him. I said, hey Abe, I’ve got a bone to pick with you, and he wrote back, what, and I said, you’re not my MySpace friend anymore, and then the phone rang, and it was him, and he was like, hey listen, and this is why, because I deleted you from my friends. I just didn’t want to be any part of your drama, your drama with you and Travis, and I was like, uhh, uhh, okay. And he was like, it’s nothing against you, I think you’re both great people, I just didn’t want to be associated with that, and he was like, I hope you’re gonna understand that it has nothing to do with you. I think you’re a great girl. I think Travis is an awesome businessman; in fact, I hope he gets his ring, and I think that would be awesome because that would just be more stories I could tell, and he said, and just said it in passing, but he was like, I hope you understand, and I was like, well, okay…(pause)…and… 

Travis: It’s either that, or… 

Jodi: Heheheheh….what? 

Travis: That’s dramatic, right there. 

Jodi: Yeah, I know. I thought it was too. I thought it was too. He’s like, I mean, I see he, he did bring that up though. He said, you know, I don’t understand. I see him in the bathroom, and I’m like a ghost to him. Like he doesn’t, he looks right through me, he doesn’t even see me or say hi to me. He said, I have no problem with that; if it’s gotta be that way, fine. He’s like, I have nothing against him, and that’s when he said, in fact, I hope he gets his ring. That’s what he said. 

Travis: (Inaudible)…I’m glad he felt intimidated in the bathroom. 

Jodi: He said nothing but nice things about you, but he didn’t want to be a part of my dramas. I was like, okay. 

Travis: He’s a ghost to me? Because what am I supposed to say? Hey, you kissed my girlfriend? You wanna talk about that? 

Jodi: (Very loud and very excited – so much so that I can’t make out the first few words) HEH! That was before I was your girlfriend! (She calms down and lowers her voice dramatically) You’re cute… 

Travis: Nah…ahh… 

Jodi: Ehh-heh-heh… 

Travis: You know, what am I supposed to say, ya know what I mean? (Jodi says, “uh-huh”). Ahh, hey, I just got ripped a new one 'cause some drunk chick frikkin’ fell on me, and, uhh, now you’re drunk, and you’re trying to frikkin’ hook up with my girlfriend frikkin’ five minutes later? Uhh, you know? 

Jodi: When was that? 

Travis: Oklahoma, remember? I was gonna go beat his ass? 

Jodi: Oh, he said something not so nice. It was a compliment to me…it was meant to be a compliment to me, but it was an insult to you, and I should have stuck, I should have stuck up for you. I was timid, and I was still like that. I needed to work on my… 

Travis: Yeah, you (inaudible)…gave me (90% sure those two words are correct) so much crap over Clancy, and maybe you didn’t stand up for me, and you were getting picked up…(inaudible)… 

Jodi: But (inaudible) he was hangin’ all over me…

CROSSTALK 

Travis: Nah…no…A: Not true, not true. We don’t even need to go there. Don’t even go there. 

Jodi: (Pause) Let’s not go there, then. Eh-heh! (Very forced laughter) We already said the other night we were never going to go there again. Let’s let it go. 

Travis: (Silence) 

Jodi: Okay, back to the Team Freedom thing. Umm… 

Travis: I’m glad I intimidated him in the bathroom. 

Jodi: (Uproarious laughter) Ah-hahahahahahah!!! You’re funny! 

Travis: I was seeing him, too. Cause I was right next to him, and I put out the, I’ll whip your A vibe, if you say one word to me… 

Jodi: Eh-heh-heh-heh-heh-heh-heh-heh. 

LONG PAUSE 

Jodi: I think you grabbed my ass, like right in front of him, like when we were walking through the casino in Las Vegas, in 07. We walked by, and you grabbed my butt, and you were like, there goes Abe, and I was like…WHAT??? I love it when you grab my butt, but you only do it when you’re trying to prove a point to somebody else. 

Travis: That’s not true, but I always do when I’m trying to prove a point to somebody else… 

Jodi: That’s true… 

Travis: You can’t say that I don’t work that booty. 

Jodi: Oh, never mind, you do know how to work the booty…eh-heh-heh-heh…

(Behind the Words: A Logical and Satirical Guide to the Impossible Defense of Jodi Arias Volume 2 by Kim Anne Whittemore)

I’m also wondering how a man who said goodbye to Green Jodi by giving her the middle finger with both hands, trusted this type of woman with recorded phone sex conversations in which he was a party. Beyond that, if he had been angry that she had failed on three attempts to record their phone sex conversations, then why didn’t we hear him, even once, tell her to press the save button during the taped conversation the defense just played? The answer? Because Travis never knew he was being recorded.

Predictably, Nurmi asks, “So, you recorded it at his request?”. Green Jodi answers, “Yes”. Nurmi continues, “I wanna ask you about some of what we heard on the tape. Early on there was a discussion about Abe and a compliment that he was making to you that was an insult to Travis that you should have corrected. Do you know what that was in reference to?”. Sure, Nurmi is going to pick the portion of the tape that is incomprehensible. During those critical parts of the conversation, Travis sounds as if he is under water. If this tape was going to be entered into evidence, there should have been a print-out of the dialogue. Some of these portions, including the one to which Nurmi just referred, were inaudible. Whether the defense deliberately muddled the recording is unknown. I was very frustrated with this portion because it told me nothing beyond the fact that Abe was disliked by Travis, Clancy held onto Travis at a PPL event, gossip, gossip, and more gossip.

Green Jodi is about to tell the jury about some of the non-sexual things they heard on the tape. Nurmi says, “I want to ask you about some of what we heard on the tape. Early on, there was a discussion about Abe and a compliment he was making to you that was an insult to Travis that you should have corrected. Do you know what that was in reference to?”

Remember, this part of the tape was difficult to hear. This part of the tape is also completely irrelevant in terms of the slaughter of June 4, 2008, but Nurmi will do anything to keep us from getting to the kill. It’s ironic that it was Green Jodi who raised the issue of Abe Abdelhadi during the taped conversation, and it was clearly a subject Travis would have preferred to avoid. It was Green Jodi who reminded Travis that Abe complimented her and insulted him. Despite the fact that the dialogue is muddled, the mood is crystal clear – Travis was upset at Abe, not at Green Jodi. Travis did not rail against her because she didn’t stick up for him in the face of Abe’s indirect insult to Travis. I suspect that Nurmi and his client are about to rewrite history – again.

Green Jodi answers, “Yes, that was when we were in Oklahoma City in March, 2007, and that’s when Abe said you deserve better, and he didn’t mean it in a way like you deserve me instead of him, just that he thought I deserved better, to be treated better, and I took that as a compliment because that meant to me that he valued – that he saw me as enough value – that I needed to be treated better, and I didn’t say anything to change his mind or anything, and I wasn’t even going to tell Travis until he demanded to know what we were talking about, and I wanted to be open and forthright in our relationship, so I…”.

There are a few things worth looking at here. When referring to this incident, Green Jodi says she wanted to be “open and forthright” in her relationship with Travis, but she prefaces that assertion by saying that she was open and forthright because Travis “demanded” an answer from her. So, which is it? It can’t be both ways. In one scenario, the information is freely and immediately offered, yet in the other scenario, it is extracted by verbal force.

Additionally, someone is not being open and forthright in their relationship when they get angry because their boyfriend is holding onto a woman who has had too much to drink at a public event, and instead of speaking to her boyfriend about her jealousy, she chooses to lock herself in the bathroom for a half hour sob-fest. These incidents happened on the same night. Open and forthright? Perhaps Green Jodi should revisit the dictionary.

Secondly, Green Jodi should not be permitted to infer what was in the mind of Abe Adelhadi when he allegedly said that she deserved better than Travis She has no idea if Abe was implying that he would be a better match for Jodi, or if Abe was being passive-aggressive toward Travis because he had his own issues with him. There is, after all, little doubt that Travis did not like Abe. This is what happens when someone is allowed to write their own script – they get to fill in all the thoughts and motivations of the other characters.

Nurmi interrupts, “And by demanding to know – that was when he grabbed your arm by the elevators?”. By the elevators? Didn’t Green Jodi say that this non-event happened in the ballroom when she went to grab his hand in the middle of a crowd of people, but he got her wrist instead? When did this become an arm grab by the elevator?

Green Jodi replies, “It wasn’t near the elevator. It was outside the crowd, right near the edge of the crowd – yes, yes, that’s when…”. That’s when? What happened? Nothing. I still find it hard to believe they were allowed to categorize this as an incident of abuse. It helps that Green Jodi is really playing up the abused woman demeanor right now. She did not correct Nurmi when he said it was her arm that was grabbed. In fact, according to her earlier testimony, it was her wrist that he grabbed, and that goes a long way to prove that he intended to grab her hand.

Nurmi says, “There was also – just so we’re clear, we’re talking about Abe Abadahla, right?”. Green Jodi replies, “Abdelhadi”. Nurmi continues, “Abdelhadi, excuse me. And Mr. Abdelhadi was also mentioned, um, that Travis made a comment, something about he was gonna kick Abe’s ass in the bathroom. He said I gave a 'whip your A’ vibe to him – related to kissing you. Can you explain to us what the back story to that is?”.

Green Jodi says, “Yes. Um, when Abe and I went on a date in January, 2007, prior to Travis and I, we were in Barnes and Noble and looking at books, and he said something, and I went to look at him, and he leaned in and kissed me, and I wasn’t expecting it. I was kind of shy about it, even though he was nice, it was nice, but it threw me off a little, so I pulled away, and I was shy, and we went to dinner, um, I don’t know what else we did. He was walking me back to my car, and he began to kiss me more near my car, and after that, Travis had interrogated me about the dates I had that day because I went to lunch with John, and I went to dinner with Abe, and then I hung out with John afterward. And so, I liked John a little bit more than Abe, but I was getting a platonic vibe from him, so when I described the dates to Travis, he said he picked up on that – that I liked John, but he asked me directly if either of them kissed me, and, um, I said that Abe did, in Barnes and Noble, and I kind of trailed off, and I could tell from the tone of his voice that he was not happy, and so I never told him about the parking lot, and I, after, when I was getting ready to move to Yreka, we had a conversation in his bedroom a few days before I moved, and we, um, kind of took, we kind of came clean about some things we were keeping from each other, and that was one of the things I never told him that I should have…”.

What did Green Jodi say to Travis on the phone the day she went on two dates? We are now being asked to believe that Travis was initially upset about a kiss in popular book store? How passionate could that kiss have been? Besides, she was not officially dating Travis at the time of this date (late 2007), and saying that Abe had tried to kiss her in the parking lot would have been the preferred tactic for a woman trying to trap a man who already appeared to be jealous. Is she expecting us to believe that she only “came clean” about Abe Adelhadi kissing her in the parking lot a few days before she left Mesa for Yreka? I believe she “came clean” about her date with Abe the day it happened. Here is the exact interchange in reference to the day of the two dates:

Nurmi: “And it was at this time that you said Mr. Alexander called and you were unable to take his call at that moment?”

Arias: “Yes, he wasn’t angry, just inquisitive”.

Nurmi: “And that inqui…inqui…inquisition, if you will, led to you describing the fact that you were with Mr. Dixon”.

Arias: “Yes”.

Nurmi: “And how did that sit with Travis?”.

Arias: “Umm he, it wasn’t warmly received, he didn’t appear to get angry, but he, I could tell he was upset in his, just in the way he, his tone, his tone changed”.

After asking how Travis learned of and received the news of the additional date with Abe Adelhadi, Jodi answers:

Arias: “Same conversation, because both of those dates were in Pasadena on the same day”

Nurmi: “Was his distaste for your date with Mr. Abdelhadi, was it different than, um, than with John Dixon?”.

Arias: “It appeared to, it seemed to me, well, it was over the phone so I didn’t see him, but from the tone of his voice, he seemed upset”.

Nurmi: “Was that at a different level than it was with Mr. Dixon?”.

Arias: “I think it was all sort of cumulative, um”.

Nurmi: “Well, you mentioned the fact that as far as being encouraged to date, you said there were certain people, initially you thought it didn’t matter what types of people you dated, but then you said later on you were encouraged to date a particular type of person. So, what I was asking if there is some difference between Mr. Abdelhadi and Mr. Dixon that caused, to your understanding, extra anxiety with Mr. Alexander?”.

Arias: “I think it was that they both weren’t church members. I was sort of reprimanded for that”.

If Arias “came clean” about this date with Abe just days before she left Mesa, it had nothing to do with kissing; it had to do with a clip that was played on Dr. Drew Pinsky’s show:

ABE ABDELHADI (as quoted on the Dr. Drew Pinsky Show): “I made a little reach to find out – candidly speaking – if she was wearing thong panties or not. So, when I realized that she was, I made a little joke, and I said, that`s not magic underwear, and she said, but there’s magic in them. And so, I thought, OK, this is fun. She`s going to be fun”.

Before we leave the topic of “coming clean”, let’s not forget that Green Jodi has already admitted that she gets her information about Travis’ personal life by hacking into Travis’ email accounts. Coming clean? She doesn’t know the meaning of the phrase.

Back to court. Nurmi was about to interrupt, “That was kind of a come clean conversation before you moved, right?”. Green Jodi says, “Yes. And after he told me some things, and I told him those things, he felt like I had lied to him about our entire relationship, and our entire relationship was, um, based on lies, and I was a fraud, and I was just, that the whole relationship was fraudulent because I never told him about that incident prior to us getting together, and he thought one thing about Abe, and then he was just, and then he was oh, you know, he was kissing out, kissing more with you in the parking lot, and he was just, he was just mad about it”.

Nurmi asks, “When you told Travis about this, was he violent with you that day?”. Green Jodi answers, “Yes, he was that day”. Nurmi asks, “What happened?”.

Green Jodi pours it on: “Umm, Well, he was already…(long pause)…he was already upset because I had given him a pamphlet earlier, about the one that I talked about yesterday…”. Nurmi, on cue, interrupts, “Was this the same day, or a different day?” Green Jodi responds, “Same day. Same conversation, pretty much. We had just moved onto other subject matter, and at that point, he just flipped his lid and blew up, and he thew me on the ground, got on top of me, and started choking me.”. They’ve obviously rehearsed this because Nurmi allows a long, silent pause to elapse. Finally, he says, “When you say choking you, were you conscious the entire time?”. Green Jodi says, “I was conscious for…not long. He squeezed my neck, and I couldn’t breathe, everything turned gray really fast, and it went black, and…uh, uh…”.

Nurmi asks, “Did you fear for your life that day?”. Green Jodi answers, “It went so fast I didn’t have time to think, oh my God, he’s gonna kill me. The only thought I could think was, I can’t breathe, I can’t breathe, I didn’t have any air, and before I really thought about it, I just started to get – he was on top of my waist – and my arms were free, and I thought, I’m trying to push him off, but he weighed over 200 pounds at that point and, uhh, I just remember getting my arms, they just felt like lead, and they just fell back on the carpet, and that’s the last thing I remember until I woke up”.

Nurmi allows a long pause to go by before he says, “And when did this incident occur?”. Despite the fact that he’s already asked this question, he asks it again. Green Jodi responds, “It was sometime in the first week of April, 2008”. Nurmi asks “Is this sometime after the incident you said, you felt like you were one of those battered women who didn’t speak up?”. Green Jodi responds, “It was about three months after that”.

Green Jodi just told the jury that Travis choked her in early April, 2008. She claims that everything went gray before it went black. Notice the raging Travis didn’t actually kill her. Now I can understand all of the references about his love of MMA fighting, the Friday night socials at his house to watch fights, and the references to him being a wrestler. It’s all an implication that Travis knew how to choke someone without killing them. In any event, I don’t believe for a second that Travis Alexander choked Jodi Arias.

Nurmi asks, “Is this after the incident you were telling us about yesterday when you said you realized you were one of those battered women that didn’t speak up?”. Green Jodi answers, “It was about three months after that”.

Nurmi continues, “There was also talk on this phone call about a drunk chick hanging on Travis. Is that the story you told us before?”. Green Jodi, trying to sound as though she is on the verge of crying, answers, “Yes”. Nurmi asks, “There was a lot of sexual activity discussed on this tape. Did all that sexual activity, did that take place before you moved back to Yreka?”. Green Jodi is staring at her little desk and playing with something small. She answers, “The things we were talking about? Yes. Well, some things we were making plans, future plans, but a lot of it was references to prior (sigh) experiences”. Nurmi asks, “So, when you’re talking about things you did, all those things happened before you moved back to Yreka, right?”. Green Jodi puts her big hand on the side of her long face and says, “Things we did. Yes”.

Nurmi says, “One of the things that was brought up is that Travis always grabbed your ass to prove a point. Now, earlier in your testimony you told us about an incident in a truck stop in Ehrenberg. Were there other instances in which Travis grabbed your ass to prove a point?”.

Nurmi isn’t even trying to be professional. He isn’t quoting anyone when he uses the word “ass”, so I guess it’s fine for him to use this type of terminology because his client is a slut. He can also stop pretending that the Ehrenberg trip offended Green Jodi or her ass because we all heard her talking about this trip on the tape. According to the “survivor” on the witness stand, the Ehrenberg trip was filled with jizz, and Green Jodi was recorded saying how much she loved the fact that it was all over their motel room.

Green Jodi thinks about her ass, and then she straightens her glasses. She nods her head, then replies, “Yeah, there were other instances”. Nurmi says, “Tell us about those”. Juan Martinez, the individual who reminds us that this is indeed a court of law and not The Jerry Springer Show, objects. Once again, he wants the pesky foundational gaps filled in. He wants dates, times, and places, and Nurmi will probably respond in a contemptuous tone of voice while telling the judge what his client will and will not say. Nurmi drops his pen on the podium (for what must be the fiftieth time today), and says, “She’s telling us, judge”. Judge Stephens reminds Nurmi that she has to provide foundation. I don’t even know why this is a matter of debate. What difference does it make whether or not Travis Alexander grabbed Green Jodi’s butt? Who cares? He wasn’t a stranger who ran through the mall grabbing women inappropriately. Jodi Arias was a woman who had given Travis free access to her “ass”.

Green Jodi, the traumatized survivor, can remember all the instances in which Travis grabbed her butt. She says, “Once was right after the executive director banquet (something this in-name-only PPL associate was lucky to be attending) in Oklahoma City – that same weekend. We were just discussing, we were walking out of the banquet area, by the restrooms, and he grabbed my butt, and then he said…”. Juan Martinez raises a hearsay objection. Nurmi gives his “not being offered for the truth of the matter asserted” response. The judge tells Nurmi to restate his question.

It’s interesting that Green Jodi is now going to refer to an incident in Oklahoma City, because the ass grab on the phone sex tape happened in Las Vegas. I understand why Juan Martinez wants foundational information. They are deliberately bouncing between events, dates, and cities, and they are hoping to confuse everyone. Whatever Green Jodi may say at this moment, let’s all remember that on the phone sex tape she said the same thing happened in Las Vegas. When we heard her talking about that incident, she said, “I love it when you grab my butt”. I suppose she’s going to have a different opinion on ass grabbing in front of the jury.

Nurmi says, “He grabbed your butt. For what purpose did he grab your ass, to your understanding?”. Green Jodi, with her mouth hanging open, stares at Nurmi, and then replies, “My understanding was that he grabbed it because there was a guy named Mark standing by, and Mark had expressed an interest in me (oh, right…), mmm, two months earlier. He was also an associate. We like never went on a date or anything, but there was an interest there”.

Why, when ass grabbing was discussed on the phone with Travis, wasn’t this mysterious Mark person in Las Vegas mentioned? This is what Green Jodi said on tape about Travis’ habit of engaging in felonious ass grabbing: “I think you grabbed my ass, like right in front of him, like when we were walking through the casino in Las Vegas, in 07. We walked by, and you grabbed my butt, and you were like, there goes Abe, and I was like…WHAT?”.

Nurmi takes the obvious road and asks, “So, the point he was proving was that you belonged to him?”. Juan Martinez raises a leading objection. The objection is sustained, but Nurmi just moves a few words around and asks the same question again. Juan Martinez raises a speculation objection. He says he doesn’t even know what Nurmi is asking. Nurmi says, “What does SHE believe?”. Juan is good for the brain. He breaks up the monotony of the two boring key players now dominating the stage. He also made it clear to the jury that whatever answer comes out of this defendant’s mouth, it is purely her opinion, not fact. That is an important distinction. Green Jodi answers, “Just that he was claiming me. It was usually the only time he claimed me in public, when there was another guy around or something”.

Nurmi says, “I guess you weren’t wearing your T-shirt, huh?”. Wow. Nurmi just sent a clear message to every person listening that he doesn’t believe the strength of his client’s testimony is winning the war. That was a completely unprofessional, desperate thing to say. If he actually believed what Green Jodi was saying was true, he would never traumatize a victim by being sarcastic about the level of humiliation and abuse she suffered. That was a bad, bad move.

Juan Martinez is brilliant. Without a hint of emotion, he sits with his hands folded and says, “Objection. Which T-shirt are we talking about?”. Nurmi makes the same mistake each time Juan Martinez embarrasses him; he gets louder, more sarcastic, and more ridiculous. He looks like an angry Disney foe who doesn’t like the way things are going. He looks like he has no respect for the process or the court. As predicted, he swaggers around, and says, “I guess you weren’t wearing the T-shirt that has Travis Alexander apostrophEE (big accent on the end of that word with a waving hand gesture) S on it, Right?”. Green Jodi answers, “No”.

Nurmi is right in front of Juan Martinez, and he continues, “You probably weren’t wearing the shorts that said Travises with an apostrophe, oh excuse me, an exclamation point”. Green Jodi is a fool. She is answering rhetorical questions seriously. She says, “No, I never wore those in public”. Nurmi is on a roll (a downhill roll, but a roll nonetheless). He says, “There’s no other way to claim you as his property but to grab your ass, right?”. Now, I’m laughing. In the middle of this charade, Juan Martinez says, “Objection, speculation”. The objection is sustained.

Nurmi asks, “Did he prove this point – of you being his – on other occasions by grabbing your butt?”. This is all rather ridiculous. Green Jodi spent a good deal of time telling the jury that Travis ignored her at these events. Now, the man who is embarrassed to be seen with her is grabbing her butt in a public display of ownership?

Juan Martinez objects again. He says that it is speculation as this practice has been proven to be an act of ownership. He’s right, of course, but his objection is overruled. Now, Nurmi is free to continue his search for other instances of the ass grabber grabbing asses. It’s ironic that the woman who plunged a knife into human flesh 29 times can’t remember inflicting even one of those injuries, but she does remember each instance in which her butt was squeezed. Oh, and just for the record, let’s remember that we just heard her on tape – she told Travis she liked it.

I’m about ready to shove that pen up Nurmi’s….never mind. If he drops that thing on the podium again, I’m going to yell at the screen. He does it for effect, but because of the microphone, it’s just jarring. After he tosses his pen, he asks Green Jodi for more ass grabbing examples. With her face down, Green Jodi mumbles, “Well, there was the occasion in the rest…uh, no…the truck stop restaurant, it was like a convenience store in a restaurant, joining the convenience store, moreso near the registers (her hands are moving all over the place as she attempts to give the jurors a visual on the set-up of the truck stop), and he did that, and umm…the other occasion was the one I referenced on the tape, which would have been in Las Vegas (the one she said she liked), at the convention in 2007, where he did that again in front of Abe, the same guy we were talking about”.

Now, as long as we’re being specific here, isn’t it important that we know whether Travis grabbed her left cheek, her right cheek, or if he used the more aggressive and less stealthy double handed grab? That would tell us a lot about how physically abusive Travis Alexander really was. Truthfully, wouldn’t an abuser actually slap her ass? This trial may go down in history as featuring the most useless, pointless, irrelevant direct testimony on record. As if listening to tales of ass grabbing isn’t insulting enough, we now have to hear that the murderer’s ass wasn’t just grabbed in a regular truck stop – it was grabbed in a truck stop that had a convenience store kinda/sorta joined to it. It is becoming painfully obvious that the defense has literally nothing to work with. Frankly, the bigger issue for me would be that he slept with her and took her to a truck stop for breakfast. If I was trying to prove that Travis Alexander used and degraded Green Jodi, I would certainly mention that a nice brunch would have been a sign of respect toward your lover, while a truck stop is, well, a truck stop.

(Behind the Words: A Logical and Satirical Guide to the Impossible Defense of Jodi Arias Volume 2 by Kim Anne Whittemore)

Green Jodi was just given free reign to recount every time Travis’ hand grabbed her butt in public. She came up with three examples. Instead of moving on, Nurmi asks, “Was this a fairly persistent pattern with him? If he thought a guy might be interested, he would grab your butt?”. Three times in less than two years does not a persistent pattern make, but let’s see if Green Jodi can come up with some other examples. She answers, “Well, in public, he only did it around, when he perceived other men to be watching us”.

#Youtube #jodi arias #true crime #ttc #dear john

[arvinsescape]

Haz and Harry writes two love letters while they are drunk, one for Tom, and one for Y/n, but they made it seem like they wrote it for each other.

Plot twist, Tom and Y/n are dating in secret.

Love letters.

A/N: So I loved this idea!! Thank you so much for sending it in!! I hope you enjoy and I hope it's what you're looking for!! 💕

Haz and Harry were so drunk as they sat on the couch together, everyone else had retired to bed. The alcohol was buzzing through their systems as they talked, hushing their voices and giggling every now and again.

"No, they have to have fucked though right?" Haz asked as he burst into a fit of giggles.

"Gross man, I don't wanna think about my brother and one of our best friends sleeping with each other." Harry groaned as he ran his hand down his face.

"They are so close though." Haz said and Harry laughed.

"Yeah they are." He agreed. "Wait though, they could just be super close, nothing has to be going on." Harry shrugged.

"Nah," Haz burst into yet another fit of giggles. "They are pining over each other." He added before an idea popped into his head. "Harry, that's it!" He suddenly said, voice a little louder. "We do something, make them realise they are made for each other." He said as he sat upright.

"Like what?" Harry asked, brows furrowed but thoroughly on board.

"We should write them love letters. I'll write Y/N's, you write Tom's!" He said almost excitedly.

"So I write a letter to Tom, pretending to be Y/N? A love letter?" He clarified as Haz jumped up from the couch, quietly disappearing into Tom's office.

"Here." He said handing Harry a piece of paper and a pen. "When you're done, put it in his gym bag, I'll put Y/N's in her bag." He said as he pointed towards your handbag that was by the front door.

"Hang on, why do I get the risky one? Tom's gym bag is in his room." Harry exclaimed.

"Well you're his brother, it'd be fine, besides he sleeps through anything."

"Fine." Harry responded as the two of them got to work.

**

Tom was getting changed after his shower at the gym when he found the letter, addressed to him. He furrowed his brows as he hastily opened it, reading the contents.

Tom,

I want to start off by telling you that I find you really attractive, one of the best looking guys I know. You make me laugh, more than anyone else. You know how to make me feel better when I'm having a bad day.

I love the way you make me tea when I'm sad. Even if you can't make a cup of tea for shit. I love the way you always know what to do to make me feel better, whether that be a hug or just taking me out for the day, it's like you always know what I need and I love that about you.

I love how you always call me and facetime me when you go away to film, how it always seems to be that you're thinking about me. How you always text me emoji's at random times of the day if you have nothing else to say, just so I know you're thinking of me.

I love how much you look after me, even though I'm not yours to look after. You always make me feel like the most beautiful girl on the planet just by looking at me. You make me feel safe when we're out together, always keeping a close eye on me.

I'm too scared to do this in person so I thought I'd write it in a letter. I think I'm in love with you, I don't want to ruin our friendship by saying it to your face. If you don't feel the same way, please, just rip this letter up and never mention it.

All my love,

Y/N.

Tom smiled as he read the letter, stuffing it back into his gym bag as he shook his head with a laugh.

You'd found yours earlier on in the morning, you'd lost something and were rummaging through your bag when you found it, eyes furrowed as you pulled the letter from the envelope addressed to you.

Y/N,

Where do I start? I suppose I should start by telling you how perfect you are. You really really are, everything about you is perfect and I suppose that's the purpose of this letter. I want you to know how incredible you are to me.

I love the way you smile, it's contagious, makes me smile just to see your pretty one grace your lips. I love how you smile even when you're not happy, how you never try and bring the mood down but I want you to know I see through it. I know when you're not okay and it makes me sad.

I hate when you're not okay, I just want to cuddle you, make everything go away for you. I'd take all of the weight off your shoulders, always and carry it myself. Shit, darling, I think I'd do anything for you.

I love how pretty your eyes are, I get lost in them sometimes. Sometimes I just want to kiss you but I can't because we're just friends. I want to be more, I've always wanted to be more.

I guess what I'm trying to say is that I'm in love with you, I want to tell you in person but I always get too afraid because I always think you can do better than me, you deserve the world and I wish I could be the one to make you happy for the rest of your life.

Love you so much darling,

Tom.

You laughed as you read the letter, studying it carefully as you placed it on your bed. Tom came home from the gym and was thankful he didn't see anyone as he made his way upstairs and hastily into your room, shutting the door as he turned to look at you. You had an amused glint in your eyes.

"You were busy last night." You mused as you held the letter up in his direction.

"So were you." He grinned back as he held his own letter up. "Although I appreciate the sentiment, a few things aren't right in here."

"No? Strange that. This letter doesn't quite seem right."

"No?"

"No, darling was a nickname from a while ago." You laughed.

"Yeah, you're usually much more eloquent. Probably drunken rambling this." He mused back. "Do you think we should tell them?"

"What? That their penmanship needs work?" You laughed as you made your way towards him, arms looping round his neck as his found your waist, pulling you in for a kiss.

**

Harry and Haz both looked like shit when they came downstairs. Harry eyeing the letter's carefully as he sat down, he looked at his brother who looked nothing but amused.

"Good night last night?" Tom asked as you sat next to him on the couch, Tom wrapping an arm around your shoulders and bringing you in closer.

"You were there." Harry said as he gulped down the water Tuwaine had brought in for the hungover lads.

"No, I recall you staying up later than we did." Tom laughed and Haz groaned.

"Tom, keep your voice down."

"Sorry, I'll try and be quieter. I mean, I just hate when you're not okay, I just want to cuddle you." Tom teased as Haz furrowed his brows.

"What the hell are you going on about?"

"You don't remember last night?" Tom asked and Haz shook his head. "You left Y/N a lovely letter, made her morning. Although, I probably should have mentioned that I have a new nickname for her, I haven't called her darling for a while, she's been upgraded to Princess."

"Yeah and Harry?" You mused as the curly haired boy looked at you. "Tom always signs my name off in this cute little way. I also very much enjoy his brews, you outed yourself there mate." You laughed.

"What are you two going on about?" Harry grumbled.

"Maybe those will jog your memories." Tom laughed as the boys picked them up reading through them.

"Who's idea was this?" Harry said, brows furrowed. "This looks nothing like Y/N's writing, it's obviously mine."

"Well I wouldn't have come up with something so ridiculous." Haz said, tossing the letter back on the coffee table.

"If you want pointers for next time, I'll happily lend you the letter I actually sent Y/N a couple of months ago." Tom shrugged and the boys narrowed their eyes at the two of you.

"Wait a second, are you two?" Harry cut himself off.

"Yeah, I told her months ago I was in love with her. Nice try though boys, I appreciate the sentiment." Tom grinned as he leant down to capture your lips in his. "Besides, when you went to put that letter in my gym bag did you wonder at all why I wasn't in bed?" Tom teased.

"No! I don't even remember doing it."

"Harry, on what planet would you think that was ever going to work?"

"Me? This has your drunken stupidity written all over it." Harry fired back, completely lost in their own argument as you and Tom were lost in each other.

#tom holland fluff #tom holland x reader #tom holland x y/n #tom holland blurb

[honey-milk-depresso]

Meanie (Azul Ashengrotto x Reader) 8

Part 1,

part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Part 7

Part 8 (END)

The final chapter. Congratulations for surviving this long with my bullshit-

“Everyone, please place the flower we have given you in their coffin.”

The sunlight was shining brightly in the early morning of NRC’s campus, 

but no happiness was to be found.

Just yesterday, you have died.

And it took a moment for Azul to realize that you were truly gone.

Everyone in NRC lined up in a single file to pay their final respects to you, one by one placing their flower in your coffin.

When it came to Azul’s turn, he had to hold himself from crying. He felt as if you were watching him. If he cried, you’ll cry too, and he doesn’t want you to fully leave this world with sadness and guilt.

He looked at you. Even if you’re dead, you looked as beautiful as ever.

He grabbed your cold hands, and placed the flower in the middle of your chest, before he gently used your hands to cover the flower, as if you are holding it.

“I love you,” he whispered, “I hope you go to a safe place.” And he walked away.

=============================================================

Azul walked back to Octavinelle with Jade and Floyd. They were silent. Yes, even Floyd stayed quiet.

The atmosphere was solemn.

Azul was solemn.

Never in his life have he came across death, let alone, someone he hold close to.

He used to love before.

He went back to his office alone and tilted his head up. Jade and Floyd went back to their rooms.

He’s not crying. He won’t cry for you.

Read it.

He heard something whisper.

“What..?”

The notebook.

He glanced to his right, the notebook labelled “ To Azul Ashengrotto”.

“Read it after they die,” Trey’s words echoed in his head as he recalls.

He grabbed the book.

To Azul Ashengrotto.

He stared at it, hesitantly flipping to the first page.

“I’m rewriting this from the accounts of Y/n, Azul. She asked for it. I hope you’re reading this.

- Trey Clover”

So Trey wrote this book for you to him.

“Azul and I were chilling at Monstro Lounge in the VIP room.

Lmao, he was soooo unlucky with his pulls, and had to answer all my questions and stuff. Apparently he thinks Idia is more handsome than Jade. Ooh~ 

I really loved the fact he wanted to spend time with me although he looks so done. I really appreciate it!”

He snorted. That was so you.

“Azul and I hanged out at the Rose Kingdom. I’m so glad Headmaster allowed me to hang out with him! Sometimes I feel like Headmaster is a dad. 

I had so much fun! Though, it’s kinda embarrassing that Azul spoilt me with so many gifts, and all I did was drag him around. I love the octopus plushie he won for me. It’s so chubby, soft and cute, just like him! 

He also bought me food from Trey’s awesome family bakery, and a really expensive pendent. I feel guilty, but I love it! It’s so pretty!”

He sighed. Really? Chubby?

“Headmaster told me I’m going to die in five months time. I’m really scared. I know I’ve joked about I feel like dying cuz of Professor Crewel’s homework, now facing with death, it feels really scary.

I have to tell everyone right? Headmaster told me he’ll tell my friends, that includes Azul. How would he feel? I don’t want him to feel sad..”

He flipped to the next page.

“Azul, Jade and Floyd came to visit me. Actually EVERYONE did! Even Leona and Idia! Can you believe it?? But I was so happy that Azul and the tweels came.

I rubbed my eyes so hard because I didn’t want them to see me cry. I was just so happy to see them!”

“Trey told me something. Well, an offered to do something for me. 

He knew I had a superrrr big crush on Azul, and he said I should tell him. I was so embarrassed at first, but I’m going to die soon, so I have to confess sooner or later right? 

He told me he’ll write a whole record of me of what I want to tell him, and then I can give it for him to read after I die.

Sounds like a good idea, but also kind of cruel. After I die????

What should I do?”

So that’s what you were talking about with him.

“I got to be discharged!

FINALLY OH MY SEVENSSSSS-

I CAN GET FRESH AIR BEFORE I DIE

DO YOU KNOW HOW BORING IT IS TO BE CHAINED TO A BED, DOING NOTHING UNTIL SOMEONE COMES TO VISIT???

PROFESSOR TREIN’S CLASS IS WAY BETTER-

Azul brought me around the entire campus, and to Octavinelle! And we played UNO! Although I lost a lot... But I’m happy I got to spend time with him and see everyone outside of the infirmary! ^^”

“I went to NRC’s Halloween Celebration!

IT. WAS. SO. COOL!!

There were like flying decorations and good food,

I got to see NRC become so lively and colorful! It was amazing!

Also I got to hang out with Azul and the tweels, and of course, everyone else!

I even got to be part of all the scaring and stuff at the Octavinelle’s scare house! heheheh~ 

I love the big finale, I wish it could last forever.”

“I made up my mind. 

I’m gonna ask Trey to help me write that book. I want Azul to have a piece of me even when I’m gone. I won’t leave him alone, and I’ll do everything in my power to do so.

If Trey is giving me the opportunity to do so, I’ll take it! Though, I should’ve done it from the beginning..”

“Azul kissed me. 

Oh my shit-

MMM I SHOULDN’T HAVE DRANK THE PLUM WINE HE GAVE ME BEFORE WE KISSED, I PROBABLY SMELT BAD-

BUT HE SAID HE LIKES IT??? WAS IT A GOOD CALL I DON’T KNOW-

But... I’m happy.. I got the courage to confess to him! On top of that, he said yes! I’m so happy I could cry..”

“I’m going to be giving the notebook to Trey. He’s gonna record it all down for me today. 

Azul, I hope you’re reading this. I want you to flip to the back. I asked Trey to attached something really important I want to share with you.”

He flipped to the back. There was a slip of paper folded, stapled to the page. It also held the pendent he bought for you. He grabbed it, and unfolded the paper.

“Azul, 

I’m writing this to you 5 months before I die. Crowley told me to tell everyone about my condition, but I wrote this for you specially.

Remember I told you in that truth or dare game?

“If I told you I was scared to die, what would you do?”

To tell you now, I’m still kind of scared. But I won’t show it! Pretending not being scared isn’t like lying.

Okay, but a practical thing, you could do anything you want with this book.

You can tear it up, throw it away, hide it or even show to everyone! Totally up to you!

I’m gonna be honest with you, I was and still jealous of you.

You were and are the picture perfect honor student of NRC. I haven’t been in NRC as long as you, but I’m just so jealous you manage to be so cool and flawless in everything you do! Well, maybe except for flying..

But still! You were and still are my role model! You always manage to amaze me! But not only that, you treated me like your best friend no matter what position you are! Maybe that’s why I fell for you, you didn’t show biasness towards me to become my friend. I hope you were genuine about our friendship!

But, I like the fact you actually sometimes don’t need other people to reflect about yourself, unlike me. I can’t reflect about me all by myself. If I were like you, maybe I could’ve been able to live entirely by myself, with my own unique worth and responsibilities. Of course, while still being friends with others!

But when it comes to self reflection, you are down to earth with yourself, you speak to yourself, and that’s very independent of you. Ever since you were little you were like that too, and that’s what made you hardworking and diligent!

I’ll end it right here, to tell you I love you. Ehehe~ Sorry it’s so sudden.

I love you, meanie.”

drip.

Pitter, patter, pitter, patter.

Slowly, Azul felt tears rolling down his face.

He broke. Except... that wasn’t true.

He’d been broken when he first heard you were about to die. He just kept strong for you, as you did for him.

He was so glad, he had spent his time with you.

You needed him. You felt like he’d done everything for you.

But now, you’re gone.

It was thanks to you, he never felt insecure about his past anymore. For the first time he met you, his really lived for the first time. He existed in this world.

“Thank you, y/n..” he choked, smiling meekly at your final goodbye letter to him, as he clutched the pendent he gave you.

“I love you so much...”

From Ramshackle dorm, your slightly dusty octopus plushie rest on the side of your pillow.

From far away, he sensed you hugging it, whispering so close to him although so far,

“I love you too, meanie..”

END

============================================================

HO SHIT-

REBLOG IT I FELT MY TEARS I-

Ok I’m joking

thank you for surviving and following with the story. 

Azul loves you. Bye, have a good day!

@magicpumpkin3 don’t kill me pls-

#twst #twisted wonderland #azul ashengrotto #azul ashengrotto x reader #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #twst azul #twisted wonderland azul x reader #twisted wonderland azul #twst azul x reader #twst angst #twisted wonderland angst #twisted wonderland fluff #twst fluff #octavinelle #octavinelle x reader #azul loves you #trey clover

[maldiaaym]

Why do I think Lily Evans (Potter) was not a good friend?

Until recently, the general opinion of the fandom was that Lily Potter was a good girl, deified and the representation of purity and goodness. But, doing a more exhaustive study of the character, we can get to see how Lily evans maybe was not so holy and made mistakes due to her education and, possibly, depending on the stage of her life where she found herself when she made those mistakes.

In relation to Severus Snape, I think she was not a good friend. Regardless of his age, which we all understand that we do not see friendship in childhood, adolescence or adulthood, she also had defects that compared to other characters in the saga, they were not a role model.

Starting from the little we know about her through the worst memory and Snape's memories, we are going to take some situations into account to assess her defects:

She blamed Snape for the letter Petunia sent to Dumbledore.

She got mad at Snape for dropping a branch on Petunia, even though he did so unconsciously and Petunia was rude to him.

The discussion with Snape about what happened with Remus (werewolf accident), his distrust of who was her friend and believing others before, not caring about Snape.

The lake scene, where she never addressed Snape once, as if he didn't know him and was just another boy to help.

The same lake scene, where she taunted Snape after he called her "Mudblood".

Now, let's talk about the problems at different levels (social, emotional, mental, physical and cultural):

Social: Snape comes from a lower social class than Lily and, although at first the girl Lily did not see the difference, I suppose that as time passed she realized that it did not look good for Snape to wear second hand clothes (surely ), he had serious problems in the family sphere, Snape's own unsociable nature that did not allow him to have a larger group of friends. In childhood we do not usually take into account the social variable when making friends with other children (pre-Hogwarts), but as she became related to the peer group at Hogwarts, she surely could not help feeling somewhat ashamed of the friendship with Snape . Let me explain, in Snape's adulthood it seems that no one knew about Lily and Snape's friendship, so it would be a secret friendship (and we all know that shame towards the other is what leads to secret friendships and relationships).

Emotional: Lily quickly connected with Snape because there was something she needed from him, and it was the knowledge and the desire to be accepted in a place like Hogwarts. Hogwarts was a new world that she did not know and Snape could offer her the security of knowing that world ... But, when she knew what she had to know, Snape had nothing more to offer her, but a clandestine and unrewarding friendship for her. It is not a mistake to think this, but it does show that she deliberately used Snape and that their friendship deteriorated over time. I think she might have felt friendship for Snape in a pure way, but when she began to be friends with the marauders, her emotional level turned towards these guys and she began to move away from Snape. I think the dark arts were an excuse to end the friendship, wanting to get away from him in an interested way ... it's easy to think that, when you really feel empathy for someone, you try to make the effort to understand that person, to know why him he likes the dark arts. However, she Lily was not able to understand him, understand his fears, his insecurities and the need to flee from the hell where he was stuck.Referring to the lake scene, I think Lily had a complete dissociation from Snape by now, she didn't defend being his friend, she didn't speak to him directly even once, and when he made a mistake due to the situation, she scoffed of him and "flirted" with James.

Mental: I think Lily never understood the true meaning of friendship, not at least as she later taught us Harry by understanding Ron and Hermione and accepting his flaws, even when this child was only 11 years old. I think that Lily, as soon as she could, got rid of Snape because she no longer wanted to have an uncomfortable friend, a friend who surely helped her for years in her studies at Hogwarts (I mean surely potions). Snape was like a teacher for Lily in her access to the magical world, he helped her in the study and knowledge of the magical world and I think that Lily stopped seeing usefulness when she already found in Gryffindor and the marauders the way to go her way . I mean, I think she coldly weighed whether or not she was interested in staying friends with Snape and she conveniently cut off the friendship when she got the chance. Lily showed herself to be a cold person who did not understand what Snape was in her whole and who did not appreciate all that he had done for her.I know that calling her "Mudbloods" was not right, but instead of trying to understand the shame and harassment that Snape felt at that time, she broke off the friendship and remained friends with the stalker, the one who emotionally blackmailed her and who continued to be a bully. No one can convince me otherwise.

Physical: here we will talk about the implications of a person who is not really physically attractive. There are studies that determine that people who do not fit the standards of beauty tend to have fewer opportunities in social relationships, love relationships or even find a job. With all this I mean that, when we are children, we do not care about anyone's physical appearance, but when we reach adolescence, our group of equals teach us the canons of beauty, which is considered handsome or what not. In this case, I think Lily was superficial. That is to say, Snape was not physically attractive, surely he did not look comfortable being with him because she was a popular, pretty girl, and he was attracted to a boy who was much more attractive than Snape (even though James was, in my opinion, uglier emotionally and disrespectful to others, adding being a bully). Lily preferred to go for the handsome boy rather than choose a loyal friend who was unattractive.

Cultural: At this level many factors enter, but here I will choose to talk about the differences of ideologies and different culture between Slytherin and Gryffindor. As we know, both houses were enemies, they were the contrast between good and evil in the Harry Potter saga. Slytherin represented everything bad and Gryffindor everything good. Here we also talk about the peer group (that is, a group of people that we consider our equals and from whom we learn cultural, social, emotional and behavioral factors), where Lily in the end ended up choosing to choose Gryffindor and be immersed in ideas prefabs that already existed about Slytherin even though, surely, many ideas were not true. Some of these ideas were hatred towards the "dirty bloods", defending the purity of blood, ambition as a negative element and cunning as if it were something bad that always leads to cheating.Where I see these preconceptions most clearly is in the scene where Lily argues with Snape for defending Mulciber, etc ... in this scene it seems that Lily puts the marauders before (she is supposed to talk about them) because they are from her house and believes that what Mulciber does is worse because he is in Slytherin. Being in Gryffindor, she is believed to have the moral superiority and the right to claim Snape to choose a position, when obviously Snape, like Lily, will choose their peer group. The point here is that Lily prefers to believe the marauders and put Snape in the guilty position, without even asking if his friend is okay or asking him what he saw ... Lily is not interested in knowing what happened because surely he was content with James's version and would always doubt any version Snape could give it.

Up to here, I did my study. It is a bit lazy, I wrote it on the fly and remembering some of the knowledge I acquired when I was studying Pedagogy. But, in essence, I hope you have understood. In the end, Lily opted for what she considered to be okay based on ideas and beliefs that she ended up having with her peer group. She put her friendship with the marauders first and decided to coldly and selfishly eliminate her friendship with Snape. In the end, we have all had friends from whom we have moved away because they no longer shared things with us (although I can presume that I never alienated anyone for thinking differently or liking things that I did not like), but also friends that we have from all our lives, with those of us who do not like things about them, but accept them and try to understand them, where the company of that person is valued more and we do not care what they tell us. It is true that the "peer group" exerts a lot of influence on us, despising those who consider strange people or have unusual habits for the majority of the population. But Snape and Lily met in childhood, this factor should not have been decisive for their estrangement and, I am afraid, that in the almost of Lily, he ended up accepting the conditions of his peer group to the detriment of maintaining a friendship that so much contributed. I don't hate Lily, I have no problem with her, for me she really is a flat character, too overrated and that only has a few three lines in the entire Harry Potter saga. It is impossible to empathize with her as we would with other characters and she hardly has any development of her. The most remarkable thing about her is that she gave her life for her son, otherwise she showed us a girl who had a strange friendship with Snape and who married the popular boy of her time.

#severus snape #severus snape headcanon #severus snape meta #severus #snape #Lily evans #Lily Potter #James Potter #Hogwarts #headcanon hp #marauders #hp #Harry Potter

[robininthelabyrinth]

I love your Nie brothers content, all of it, but there is so little written about the friendship between Nie Huaisang and Wei Wuxian! We know they were friends in Cloud Recesses, but it's never explored how these genius guys, even if one is focused on magical inovations and the other on strategy and politics, got on. Something which shows how well they got each other would be great

1

Wei Wuxian’s fist trembled. How dare he – worthless peacock – my shijie..!

But before he could throw a punch, he saw a swirl of white – Lan Wangji, sweeping forward with a face like a graveyard, and Nie Huaisang cringing in his shadow – and suddenly he realized that he didn’t need to punch Jin Zixuan.

Speaking of others behind their backs is forbidden.

Sneering without reason is forbidden.

Arrogance is forbidden.

Do not be haughty and complacent.

Do not praise yourself and slander others.

Do not make assumptions about others.

Do not insult people.

Do not take your words lightly.

Wei Wuxian grinned with teeth. “Hey, Lan Zhan!” he sang out, and Jin Zixuan blanched. “Perfect timing!”

Later, after he’d laughed himself sick at Jin Zixuan’s punishment – humiliatingly perfect – and making his appreciation very clear to Lan Wangji, he went to go find Nie Huaisang.

“When did you go get Lan Zhan?” he asked, honestly curious. He hadn’t known he was going to get into a fight until he was there and it was happening, but Nie Huaisang, of all people, had apparently figured out what was going to happen before it happened and took steps to fix it.

“The second they started talking about girls,” Nie Huaisang said promptly. “It’s fairly obvious that Jin Zixuan is resentful of his parents managing his life and he’s lashing out at everything, including specifically your shijie, so a nasty comment was inevitable.”

Wei Wuxian blinked, derailed from his original line of questioning. “He – what? Wait, that’s why he’s so rude about my shijie?”

“Of course,” Nie Huaisang said, blinking back at him. “What did you think? That he just didn’t like her? He’s barely even met her.”

Wei Wuxian hadn’t thought about that way, but it made a certain amount of sense. “When did you get so good at reading people?” he asked, bemused. “I didn’t…uh…”

“Think I have any skills?”

Wei Wuxian coughed.

“I don’t!” Nie Huaisang beamed, clearly very proud of it. “But I do have a lot of expensive hobbies, and that means I need pocket money.”

Wei Wuxian wasn’t sure he understood the connection, and said as much.

Nie Huaisang laughed at him. “The Nie sect believes in self-sufficiency,” he explained. “My brother gives me a certain amount of money to spend, sure, but we’re not the Jin sect; I can’t just buy everything that I lay my eyes on and send the bill back home – my brother would break my legs! I’m expected to find a way to increase the money I get until it’s enough to cover both my needs and wants, necessities and luxuries both, and if I can’t, then I have to do without luxuries.”

Nie Huaisang has never, not once, in the entire few months Wei Wuxian spent in his company, done without luxuries.

“So,” Wei Wuxian said, feeling oddly unnerved and unsure why, “you learned how to read people because you want to act like…a merchant?”

Nie Huaisang lightly tapped his head with his fan, rolling his eyes at him. “Stop being such a landed gentry young master, Wei-xiong. There’s nothing wrong with trade! How much of your sect’s money comes from merchants interested in keeping their trade routes free of resentful energy?”

Wei Wuxian wrinkled his nose a little. “That’s cheapening it a bit, don’t you think? As cultivators, it’s our duty to stand up as heroes, to defend the innocent and defeat evil, to purify –”

“Right, right. Remind me again how the Jiang sect pays for all that pretty purple?”

“Well…I mean…”

Technically, yes, there were all the dye sellers and the fabric merchants, but…

Nie Huaisang was laughing at him.

“Don’t worry about it, Wei-xiong,” he said, wiping his eyes. “You stick to doing your own thing. If you ever need to sell anything, come to me.”

“Of course,” Wei Wuxian said, privately thinking to himself that he’d rather farm for crops than become a seller hawking his goods in the marketplace. “Hey, wait, what is it that you sell, anyway?”

Nie Huaisang sniggered and refused to tell him.

2

It was porn.

Also barbeque and liquor, although in that case Nie Huaisang mostly played the middleman between the vendors of Caiyi Town and the students stuck eating Lan vegetables.

Sometimes he could even be convinced to tug on his contacts for other things, too.

“You’re a true friend,” Wei Wuxian said, clutching the bottle of chili sauce to his chest. “A true and wonderful friend.”

“You still have to pay,” Nie Huaisang said, his eyes curving up behind his fan. “No discounts.”

“A ruthless, vicious, cut-throat friend…”

“I lend you the porn for free, don’t I?

“Wonderful! Wonderful friend!”

3

No matter what Jiang Cheng said, Wei Wuxian was trying to keep his head down during their time at the indoctrination camp. He was taking this whole thing very seriously: he wasn’t making a fuss (too much), he wasn’t being insulting (too much), he wasn’t even socializing (too much).

Lan Wangji didn’t count, anyway; after what had happened to him, he needed someone bothering him.

But Wei Wuxian was being good and keeping back from the rest!

Well, he was, except then he saw Nie Huaisang and just had to go over to say hello. It was only polite, and had nothing to do with the fact that during the months he spent at the Cloud Recesses, he’d learned that Nie Huaisang could sell anyone on anything.

“I don’t suppose you have contacts that will sell you barbeque here,” Wei Wuxian said as a greeting, because the food they’d received was frankly disgusting in a way that made him wistful for the Lan sect like it had been a gourmet restaurant.

“Well,” Nie Huaisang hedged, and Wei Wuxian’s eyebrows shot up. “Don’t get too excited, it’s not barbeque…”

It was meat, though, chunks of that had probably been roasted as skewers at one point, and Wei Wuxian didn’t even care that it was cold as he scarfed it down, immediately feeling ten times better than he’d been before.

“Where?” he asked. “How?”

“There’ll be a surprise inspection tomorrow morning,” Nie Huaisang said instead. “Keep your head down, they’re looking to make an example out of somebody.”

“How do you know that?”

Nie Huaisang shrugged. “I brought art.”

“To the indoctrination camp?”

“Wen soldiers get lonely and bored too, Wei-xiong.”

“You’re trading for information using porn?”

“Don’t be silly. I’m trading porn for meat, and getting the information while we’re chatting. A large number of the Wen sect cultivators used to be their own sects, you know, before they were absorbed, and not all of them are happy about what’s going on here. You just have to figure out who the loyalists are, avoid them, and focus on the rest, and it’s easy.”

“I still can’t believe you brought porn to the Wen sect,” Wei Wuxian said, shaking his head. “What’ll you do if your brother finds out?”

“You’re joking, right? He helped me pack it.”

Wei Wuxian will never understand the Nie sect.

4

Wei Wuxian stared wordlessly at his bowl.

There was a single slice of radish in it.

“Is this a joke?” he asked Wen Qing, because it might be, and she glared at him, meaning that no, it was not. “Don’t we have anything else?”

“With what money, Wen-gongzi? Do you think it comes from thin air?”

“I had a friend once who could make it come out of thin air,” he grumbled, looking down at his bowl. He’d practiced inedia, he didn’t need it, except for the fact that he really, really did. Not having a golden core made things hard. “He could’ve sold fish to fishermen, except he mostly just sold porn.”

Wen Qing rolled her eyes at him. “Wonderful story, Wei-gongzi. Positively heartwarming. But unless your old erotic art dealer is going to come to Yiling to help us sell some radishes, I don’t care.”

Naturally, that was impossible. Wei Wuxian was a villain now, his name blackened, the whole cultivation world against him –

Actually, as far as he could tell, the Nie sect didn’t seem to give a damn about him one way or another. From all the stories Nie Huaisang had told about his brother and from everything he’d seen in the war, Nie Mingjue wasn’t the sort of person to let evil sit around on a mountain while he was busy with other things – if he objected, he’d be there the next day with his saber, ready to put him in his place.

He hadn’t, obviously.

His hatred of the Wen sect was pretty well-known, but he’d taken no action at all to invade Yiling and demand that Wei Wuxian hand them over, and Wei Wuxian was mostly sure that it wasn’t because he was scared of what Wei Wuxian could do with the Stygian Tiger Seal.

…it was probably just the hunger getting to him and making him think crazy things. Not caring enough to go against him was pretty far from supporting him, after all.

But, hey, he wouldn’t be risking anything if he just wrote a tiny little letter asking Nie Huaisang for some advice on selling things, right?

I never thought I’d see the day my Wei-xiong finally became a merchant, the return letter said. I’ll be there in three days. I expect to see liquor.

Wei Wuxian took Wen Ning down the mountain and stood on his shoulders in order to emancipate a jar from the local tavern, but by the time Nie Huaisang arrived, there was, in fact, liquor.

Even Wen Qing – who had opposed the entire outing once she had heard about it upon their return – suddenly thought it was a perfectly reasonable sort of theft when Nie Huaisang offered to trade a giant crate full of meat for it.

“We had some leftovers from a boar hunt,” Nie Huaisang said mournfully, accepting the liquor and a bowl of radishes. “I need variety, Wei-gongzi, it’s terrible. You have to help me get rid of it; I can’t stand to look at it any longer.”

“You’re not supposed to be here,” Wei Wuxian reminded him in between glorious bites of pork. He was going to be a very good friend and do his best to ensure that Nie Huaisang’s request was fulfilled, even if it meant taking seconds and possibly thirds. “I asked for advice, not a visit.”

“You can’t expect me to put my good name on what could be inferior goods,” Nie Huaisang sniffed.

“Your good name? The one known for porn, you mean?”

Nie Huaisang rolled his eyes at him. “So show me what you have to sell.”

“It’s mostly just the radishes,” Wei Wuxian said. “I tried to tell Wen Qing that we should plant potatoes, but –”

“Forget the radishes,” Nie Huaisang said. “What’s this I hear about you designing a compass that pinpoints resentful energy?”

“Oh, that?” Wei Wuxian said, blinking. “Yeah, I made one of those – the Burial Mounds is the biggest source of resentful energy around, and it’s easier to have a compass that points home instead of north, you know? But what does that have to do with selling radishes?”

“Wei-xiong, you’re hopeless. Leave it all to me, and you’ll have your sect up and running in no time.”

“Yeah, that would be – wait, sect? What sect?”

“Actually,” Nie Huaisang said, tapping his fan against his cheek. He was just plain old ignoring Wei Wuxian now, which, hey! “I take it back – before you leave everything to me, show me what other ideas you’ve been cooking up. What about those talismans you used during the war? The spirit-drawing ones?”

“Spirit summoning,” Wei Wuxian corrected.

“Yes, those. Have you improved on those at all?”

“Uh, I mean, I guess…”

“Good. Show me everything.”

5

“So I have a sect now,” Wei Wuxian told Lan Wangji, who had come to visit. “We sell things to support it. Apparently.”

Lan Wangji nodded, apparently already aware of this. “The clan elders have agreed that using your flags to draw fierce corpses and other creatures away from areas with innocent human lives is an acceptable use.”

“Even the Lan sect?” Wei Wuxian marveled. “No wonder we’re making so much money.”

Then he sighed.

Lan Wangji looked questioningly at him.

“Well, I have a sect now,” Wei Wuxian said. “Everyone’s expecting me to – you know. Form the core of the sect.”

“Marry,” Lan Wangji concluded. Possibly advised? No, that didn’t sound like he was urging him to go ahead, which made a total of one person. “You do not have to if you do not wish. You already have an heir.”

“A-Yuan’s too young to be a proper heir,” Wei Wuxian objected, though he was secretly gleeful that people were generally accepting him as one. “And obviously I can’t just pick anyone; how will I know if they’re a spy? Or if they’ll secretly dislike A-Yuan?” He sighed again. “The worst part is, I think Nie Huaisang is plotting against me, too.”

“Plotting?”

“Yeah! He’s encouraging people to ask me about marriage, when clearly it’s better for me to stay off the market…what about you, Lan Zhan? Are you planning on marrying?”

“No,” Lan Wangji said.

“We’ll be a bunch of old bachelors, then,” Wei Wuxian said. “You should come more often, A-Yuan loves you…hey! I have a great idea! Why don’t we get married? Then no one will bother us ever again!”

“Mm,” Lan Wangji said.

“Mm? What does that mean?”

“It means I will need to send Nie Huaisang his payment in the morning,” Lan Wangji said, and moved to sit next to Wei Wuxian.

“Payment? You bought something from him? What did you want to –”

Lan Wangji silenced him pretty effectively, no spell necessary, and by the time Wei Wuxian retained enough ability to think through what exactly the purchase must have been, he’d already been converted to thinking that it was a very intelligent purchase to make.

Nie Huaisang really could sell anything.

#mdzs #wei wuxian #nie huaisang #wangxian #my fic #my fics #sales pitch #violetablood

[thora-jane]

Twin-Way Mirror (Pt iv)

Series Summary: You've been friends with the Weasley twins since your first train to Hogwarts, but as the three of you start your 6th year, you start to question if your feelings go beyond friendship.

Summary for Pt 4: You begin to feel something is truly off about the twins as you all start to get ready for the world cup

Warnings: gets the slightest bit spicy, someone briefly isn't wearing a shirt but nothing happens lol

Word count: 2,637

female!reader, 2nd person POV

(a/n): We're back to Twin-Way Mirror BUT! I'm still taking requests! I think it'd be awesome to make some stories any of you want to see! Don't be nervous to reach out and send me an ask! Please!!!! I sit in the college cafeteria every morning for hours needing something to do!!!!! Love you all and hope you have a ~magical~ day <3

***

“(Y/n)! (y/n), get up!” Hermione whispered, shaking your shoulders lightly, “We need to get ready to go, could you wake up the twins? I need to get the other boys.”

You nodded, eyes not fully open as you sat up in bed and stretched. By the time you had rubbed the sleep out of your eyes and looked around, Hermione was already gone. Crawling out of bed, you looked over at the twins. Both of them were still fast asleep, and you tried to recall exactly how heavy of sleepers they were.

“C’mon, fellas, we gotta get moving,” You mumbled, nudging the one nearest to you. When there was no response, you sighed. Sitting down on their bed next to them, you leaned over and tucked his hair behind his ear. Freckles. Taking a deep breath, you placed your lips next to his ear. Without whispering, you woke him up, “Oi, Georgie Porgie. Get up, we need to go soon.”

You felt his leg kick out with a start as he bolted upright, his eyes snapping open and looking around before he saw you. You tried to hold back a smile but failed, and with an exasperated groan he grabbed your shoulders and yanked you over to him. You let out a little yelp as he wrapped his arms around you and yawned.

“How dare you,” he paused, squeezing you as he stretched out his legs, “waking me up in such a violent manner! Do you not care about my beauty sleep? It takes a lot of work to be the better looking one!” this got you to laugh, but not long after that a pillow came flying towards your face. George ducked, turning the two of you to shield you from the impact, “Careful love, I think we’ve awakened the savage beast,” He winked down at you before getting hit with another pillow.

“Savage beast? Speak for yourself Georgie. (y/n), where’s my good morning kiss? I dare say I feel a bit cheated,” Fred pouted. You wriggled out from George’s arms and threw a pillow back at Fred before walking to your trunk and taking out some clothes.

“Bold of you to assume George would even get a ‘good morning kiss.’ And if the two of you don’t get up you’re not going to get a good morning, period. Now c’mon, Hermione said we’d be leaving soon,” You picked up the pillow from your cot and threw it so it hit one of them, then ran out of the room before either had the chance to reciprocate your actions.

You changed as quickly as you could and combed your hair. You knew you didn’t have a whole lot of time to spend in the bathroom with a house full of people, but as you splashed your face and let the cold water drip off your nose, you started mulling over everything that had happened since you got here: Being carried into the house, Fred and George’s jokes about the handsomer twin, the moments where you’d make one of them go quiet, not to mention Fred kissing your forehead last night. It was all rather odd, really. You wondered if Hermione or Angelina would have anything to say about it. After drying off your face and deciding that talking to the girls about it wouldn’t hurt, you left the bathroom and headed back to put your pajamas back in your trunk. Apparently you were too used to having a room to yourself, as you opened the door without knocking.

That was a mistake.

“Bloody hell, (y/n)!” you heard one of them exclaim before you slammed the door and clamped your eyes shut. You weren’t sure which twin was still in their room, but whichever it was, they hadn’t exactly finished changing their shirt. A second later the door swung open again and you did everything in your power to not look up at them again.

“Sorry! I’m so sorry,” You winced, trying to duck below their arm and get through the doorway without touching them. He only laughed, and turned to watch you tip-toe through the bedroom out of embarrassment. Walking back towards the door and staring at your feet (either out of embarrassment or fear that he’d see your face turning as red as his hair) you had nearly made it out before he stuck out his arm to block you.

“I’m so sorry, I really am,” you stammered out again, still trying to avoid his gaze, “I forgot to knock and I thought you two had gone downstairs and-”

He only chuckled to himself, “It’s alright, (y/n), nothing that hasn’t happened before, and certainly not something that won’t ever happen again, right?”

At this you looked up, utterly confused, “I’m sorry, what?” you caught a glimpse of his jumper, green with a large letter ‘G’ knitted into the front.

“Oh, uh…” he paused, scratching the back of his head, “I only mean that...I’ve been walked in on before and...It’s bound to happen again and...well better me putting my shirt on than something else, right?” he offered a laugh, but after hearing his words leave his mouth it came out more like a wince.

After some hesitation you gave a weak smile, then nodded, “Right, yeah,” he coughed, and you looked down at your feet before pointing out to the hallway, “Let’s get going, then.”

***

The seven of you left the burrow just as the sun had started to rise, George and Fred had been walking with the other boys, passionately talking about who would win the quidditch match and debating what bets to place on which team. Meanwhile, you lagged behind with Hermione and Ginny. When you were sure the twins couldn’t hear you, you leaned over to Hermione and whispered.

“Have you noticed anything different about them lately?” you nodded to the gang of boys ahead of you.

“Well...Harry did mention having a bad dream last night. And he woke up with his scar hurting. We’re not sure what it is but-”

“No I uh...I meant the twins,” You interrupted, shoving your hands in your pockets as you watched them walking ahead of you. Merlin, they had gotten taller, they were practically twice as tall as Ginny and had to walk with their heads ducked so they wouldn’t be hit by any passing branches. One of them (George, you could see the top of the ‘G’ on his jumper from underneath his jacket) was walking backwards. He caught on that you were watching him, and his face lit up before he stuck out his tongue. You waved back, but quickly turned back to Hermione, “Something just seems a little different.”

“Well they’re much taller than the end of last term, and I suppose their hair has gotten a bit longer since the last time you three would have seen each other,” she thought aloud.

“I’m well aware of that,” you said, tucking your hair behind your ear in hopes that your hand shielded any blush on your face.

“And they are quite excited about the match today, if that means anything,” she added, tilting her head, “But other than that I haven’t really been paying much attention. Why do you ask?” she turned to you, curiosity in her voice.

“They talked about you practically all summer,” Ginny butted in, “Every other thing they said was (y/n) this and (y/n) that,” She stood up as tall as she could and tried to copy their voice to the best of her ability, “Blimey, Freddie, I sure wish (y/n) was here. You know she would appreciate our refined taste. Oi Ron, (y/n) wrote to you, the least you could do is say hi back to her! Look everyone, (y/n) sent me a letter! (Y/n) sent me a letter! Did Eros stop by, mum?” she sighed, shaking her head, “You’d think you were the only person in the world! No offense, of course. They spoke about you like you were some great celebrity.”

“Did they really?” You asked, rather puzzled as you looked back up towards the twins. George turned around again and gave you an exaggerated wave, with Fred following suit.

Ginny picked up her pace to catch up with the others, but before Hermione could do the same, you grabbed her hand, “I walked in on George this morning.” You almost blurted out.

“What?” she asked, rather shocked. You shushed her before she had the chance to say anything louder and draw attention.

“It’s not like I did it on purpose” you said in your defense, “I just opened the door and he wasn’t wearing-”

“I don’t want to know!” she interrupted in a harsh whisper, but after a moment she asked quickly, “What happened after that?”

“I slammed the door shut and probably turned as red as a tomato. Then when I went back in he sort of awkwardly made a joke about it, but he didn’t seem too bothered? He just wasn’t wearing a shirt, so it could have been way more...you know…awkward.”

Hermione rolled her eyes, “Well that’s for sure. (y/n), I haven’t the slightest idea what to tell you. You know George better than I do and by the looks of it, he doesn’t seem to be the least bit bothered,” She started to pick up the pace of her walk to catch up with the rest of the group, and you did the same.

“Hurry up kids, we’re nearly there!” Mr. Weasely called out over his shoulder as he ducked under another branch, “Ah, Amos!”

A man who you assumed was Amos Diggory smiled and loudly greeted Mr. Weasley, the two of them talked and exchanged a brief conversation about the weather before you heard Mr. Weasley ask, “Where is your son? Cedric, right?”

Cedric. That’s where you had heard the name Diggory before. Griffyndors and Hufflepuffs shared a potions class last year, and the two of you had been assigned as partners. He was a rather nice boy, and although the two of you didn’t exactly become best friends, you always waved to each other when he passed you in the hallways.

After making his grand entrance of jumping down from a tree, he greeted everyone with a simple nod. It was then that you caught his eye and he jogged over to walk beside you.

“(y/n), I didn’t expect to see you here. What a pleasant surprise if you don’t mind my saying so,” he smiled, and you could have sworn you saw Hermione and Ginny give each other a look out of the corner of your eye.

You nodded, “Yeah, the Weasleys were nice enough to invite Harry and I. How has your summer been, Cedric?” You looked over at him, trying to ignore the twins entering a small shoving match a few feet away.

“Oh it was quite nice, and you?” Cedric was always so polite, and that had proved helpful in potions with Professor Snape. The class was by default unbearable; the cold and dark and dank dungeon, Professor Snape’s face always glaring down at you over your shoulder, his comments on your insufferable eagerness to learn magic, on most days having Cedric as your partner was what made the actual class time worthwhile.

“Ah yes, the dynamic potions-brewing duo reunited once again.” Fred interrupted, slinging his arms over you and Cedric’s shoulders, startling both of you.

“It’s nice to see you too, George,” Cedric smiled, looking rather ruffled by the surprise.

“That’s not George,” you corrected, swinging one arm over Fred’s shoulder and the other over George beside you, nodding your head in his direction, “this one’s George.”

Cedric looked over at you in casual awe, “how do you do it, (y/n)? How do you tell them apart?”

You pulled the three boys closer, throwing your head back with a laugh, “Well it takes some practice. But it’s actually quite simple, you see-”

“Hurry up now! All of you! Gather round, it’s almost time!” Mr. Weasley called out, getting the four of you to jog up to join the group gathered around an old boot. George turned his head to Cedric, but didn’t take his eyes off you, “Come now, Ced, a magician never reveals his tricks.”

You looked back at him, pressing your back to his chest to reach out and place your fingertips on the boot, “Georgie, we’re all magic.”

Before he could respond, you felt your whole body’s weight lurch forward and your feet leave the ground, gravity hooking around your abdomen as the group of you took off spinning. At one point, you felt you were going to go flying off away from everyone. George must have felt this two, and you felt his arm wrap around your waist and pull you closer. You thought you heard Mr Weasley shout for all of you to let go, and before you could process what it was he was saying, George let go of the boot. You felt him fly away and, with his arm still around you, you were yanked off with him.

The two of you landed with an oof, your back still pressed against George’s back. You could hear him groan from beneath you as you rolled off him and scrambled to your feet, turning back around and offering out a hand to help him up. He smiled weakly, squinting up in the bright light as he reached out and grabbed your hand.

You weren’t sure what to blame, his arms strong from playing beater for Quidditch the past four years, or how you were still dizzy from your ride through the portkey. But what you did know was one moment you were standing, offering to help him up, and the next he had pulled you back on top of him.

The two of you froze, not breaking eye contact. You could see the horror grow on his face and blush creeping up on his ears. And, by the feel of it, your face was about the same. Neither of you moved or said a word until you thought you overheard Fred groan and Cedric laugh from over to the side.

“Sorry!” He cried out, a bit embarrassed as he shoved you off him and got up to his feet, now offering his hand to pull you up, “Let’s try this again, shall we?”

You reached up, clearing your throat as you tried to not look flustered. You weren't quite prepared for how quickly he tugged your arm though. Once again the two of you found yourselves rather close, your chests pressed together from how quickly he pulled you up.

“Oi, you two!” Fred called from behind you, grabbing your hand and pulling you along with him, “We’re gonna lose the others if you two don’t stop rolling around in the grass.”

You slung your bag over your shoulder and jogged to keep up with Fred’s big steps. You could see the big goofy grin on his face and couldn’t help but laugh. You’d seen the twins excited over pranks, but this was a different kind of excited; innocent, wide-eyed, wholesome (or as wholesome as the twins could get). Watching his face strain from all his smiling, you couldn’t help but laugh. He looked down at you with a sort of glint in his eye you couldn’t remember seeing before and he let out a chuckle as he loosened his grip ongeo your hand and spun you around.

“I don’t suppose you’ve been to a quidditch match outside of school. Have you, (y/n)?” He asked, keeping his hand in yours and swinging your arms back and forth.

“No, I don’t suppose I have,” you answered, “but I can’t wait.”

#fred wealsey fic #fred weasly x reader #george wealsey imagine #george x y/n #george weasley #george x reader #fred x y/n #fred weasley #george wealsey x reader #harry potter #hogwarts #fred and goerge weasley #weasley twins #requests anyone? #requests are open #requests open

[renjuseyo]

I guess i will try requesting then~

Chan

No one ever give male reader chocolate before on valentine day so he's surprised when reader find a chocolate with a note on his desk. It turns out to be chan, who is also jihoon younger brother and reader underclassmen. Reader ask for a time because he never date before and don't know how to do about it. So maybe story about their relationship after the confession? I will leave how it's gonna be turn out to you because i think you're better at this ☺️ 💞

sweetest thing ; dino

group: seventeen

pairing: lee chan / reader (male)

synopsis: you’ve never quite stood out at school, being more of a wallflower. so on valentines’s day, you’re a little more than surprised to see a box of chocolates and a note addressed to you.

genre: fluff, crack if you squint

ahhh my first request!! this prompt is very cute, but i’m not sure if i did a good job with it and i kind of wrote the last part in a rush if you couldn’t tell ^^” i hope this satisfies you, and as always, feedback is much appreciated~

- reader is a part of the ‘96 line. order goes as junhui > hoshi > wonwoo > reader > woozi

title inspiration: sweetest thing by seventeen

“...and of course, like the confident leo that i am-”

“-confident? you dropped, ducked and rolled in the convenient store the other day because i mentioned their names. look at me, i’m choi seungcheol who’s head-over-heels in love with yoon jeonghan and joshua hong, but i’m a coward who watches from afar!” wonwoo mocks.

seungcheol sends him his most threatening glare, but wonwoo nonchalantly blinks back. “that’s a thing of the past! i’m a changed man now, wonwoo.”

you walk up the stairs to the third floor laughing. “hyung. i barely know the two of them, but they made more progress establishing a friendship- well, relationship now- than you ever had. you are literally a coward.” seungcheol makes an offended noise as wonwoo cackles behind you, and you spin around to fist bump him. having known the two of them since childhood, you and wonwoo have made it your sole duty to shoot seungcheol down when the opportunity presents itself. the perks of being friends for so long, you suppose.

seungcheol jogs up beside you two, glaring at your smug smirks. “you two are just jealous you’re single! at least i gained the courage to confess to them!” he exclaims, exasperated.

you and wonwoo exchange incredulous looks, and he knows he’s only digging a deeper grave for himself. “firstly, we were the ones that pushed you to even meet up with them,” wonwoo begins.

“and secondly, they were the ones that confessed, because you kept on getting tongue-tied!” you finish. you turn to fist bump each other once again.

the older of you three visibly deflates, throwing his hands up in defeat. “i actually hate you two. can i not have my moment of glory?” he whines.

you roll your eyes as you approach your classroom, sliding the door open. seungcheol’s lingering at the wall, since his class is a few doors down from your’s and wonwoo’s. “you’re getting a little too cocky there, my boy. maybe in five years you can try boasting again.”

“i’m older than you?!”

you stick your tongue out at him, who storms away from you and wonwoo in a huff. your jabs at him have always been made in lighthearted fun, and you know he’d tell you and wonwoo to stop if he truly felt uncomfortable. but making fun of his love life is always amusing, especially since it provides you something new to look forward to amidst the mundane hours of school. it’s not like you and wonwoo have anything going on in your usual life, much less your love life.

but apparently the fates has something in store for you today, because the moment you step into the classroom, you notice two of your classmates lingering by your desk. you recognize them as jeongyeon, your friend and the class president, and soonyoung, a mutual friend of you and wonwoo. “what are you two doing?” you ask, approaching the duo.

“oh, hey (name). we were just passing out papers for ms. park when we noticed this on your desk!” soonyoung explains, pointing towards your desk. your eyes trail towards the small box neatly wrapped with a note tucked in between the ribbon. it’s not surprising to see gifts popping up on people’s desks, especially since today is valentines’ day. but you’re a wallflower, and you’ve never actually received a gift aside from the candy that kids in elementary school passed out to the whole class. if it weren’t for your name written in thick letters, you would’ve mistaken it for someone else’s.

jeongyeon gives you an apologetic look. “sorry (name), i tried dragging soonyoung away, but you know how curious he can be.”

apparently wonwoo knows you’ve never received a gift before either, nudging you with that unmistakable grin on his face. it’s the one he has whenever he makes fun of seungcheol, but this time, it’s directed towards you. “it seems our little (name) here has gotten a valentines’s gift~!” he teases.

you seat yourself at your desk, curiously staring at the present. you have five minutes before class starts, so what harm is there in opening it up? your fingers make quick work of the ribbon, unfurling its shiny restraints off the box. you’re about to unfold the note before you notice three pairs of curious eyes staring at you. “do you mind?” you ask. soonyoung and jeongyeon quickly apologize and straighten up, but wonwoo merely smirks. you make a mental note to apologize to seungcheol for your relentless teasing. reluctantly, you unfold the note and read its contents.

happy valentine’s’ day hyung! i hope this letter reaches you safely :)

~ your secret admirer

ps. i know you don’t like nuts, so i advise you don’t eat the ones on the bottom row! they all have nuts in them. on the other hand, if you don’t like chocolate or are allergic, feel free to give these to someone else! i wouldn’t want to poison you!

you can’t help the chuckle that escapes your lips, because even if you don’t know who said admirer is, you think that he’s incredibly endearing, if his note is anything to go by. you refold the note and place it on top of your desk. when you remove the lid of the box, you’re surprised to see an assortment of chocolates all with different designs.

jeongyeon gasps in awe. “those are the pricey chocolates from carat, that patisserie! they sell pastries, but i hear their chocolates are wicked good.”

like the best friend that he is, wonwoo leans towards you, wiggling his eyebrows. “expensive chocolates, eh? this admirer of yours must mean serious business if they spent money on you~” he teases.

“he,” you correct, plucking a piece out. “he used hyung.”

wonwoo sighs, wiping away a fake tear. “our son is all grown up now. i feel like a proud dad,” he whistles.

you don’t have time to smack him because the bell rings, signalling the beginning of first period.

when wonwoo approaches you during lunch, you know he has something to share, if the mischievous glint in his eyes is anything to go by. “(name), have you eaten your chocolates yet?” he asks.

you’re already wincing, feeling seungcheol’s piercing eyes at your back. “chocolates? what chocolates?”

wonwoo gives you a knowing smirk, the corners of his lips lifting up like the cheshire cat’s. “he didn’t tell you? our dear boy here-” he pauses to smack your back, though it comes out a little too hard than anticipated. he seems to notice this too, hiding behind seungcheol’s back as you send him a withering glare. “-received a box of chocolates and a confession during first period today,” he explains.

seungcheol gasps with wide eyes. “what! and you didn’t think to tell me?”

you shrug, looking away. “i didn’t think it was-”

“-do not tell me it isn’t that important, because it is! now i get to tease you about your love life,” he cuts off, cackling. you lean forward to steal a kimbap from his lunchbox, eliciting a scream from him. nearby students shoot you three weirded out looks, though you could care less, shoving the kimbap into your mouth.

you roll your eyes at seungcheol’s sullen expression. “to answer your question, wonwoo, no, i have not finished the chocolates. soonyoung helped me eat a few though.”

wonwoo gives you an offended look. “why would you give that leech anything? he’ll just come back for more. plus, they’re a gift from someone else! why would you just give them away?” he asks.

you shrug, pulling a piece out from the box. “eating that many chocolates isn’t good for me. and i don’t really like the nutty ones, so i gave them to soonyoung. it’s not like i’m dumping them away altogether.”

wonwoo shakes his head. “you have no soul. it’s no wonder you’ve been single for so long.”

“i’m sorry for not swooning over a confession, mr. i-know-everything-about-romance,” you retort. you pluck out a diamond-shaped chocolate decorated with hazelnuts and pass it to seungcheol, who devours it the moment he sees it. “plus, that’s not the only gift i’ve gotten.” dragging your backpack towards you, you unzip it to find it overflowing with more boxes. “it seems that at the end of every period, a new box just presents itself on my desk. so far, i’ve gotten chocolates, peach-flavored gummies, a can of iced coffee, and a stuffed dinosaur. they all have cute notes attached to them, too.” the duo coo at the gifts, though you can see them specifically eyeing the consumables.

he seats himself beside you, stealing a piece of chocolate from you. “well, you know jihoon, your neighbor? he said he found another box on your desk and wanted me to give it to you.” he rummages through his backpack and slides out another box with a note attached to it. you and seungcheol curiously eye it before you grab it from wonwoo’s backpack.

“open it!” seungcheol whispers, eyes gleaming with curiosity. you roll your eyes; why are your friends more invested than you are? reluctantly you untie the ribbon and remove the note, but this time you open the box first. you’re surprised to see a slice of strawberry cake nestled inside a plastic container. judging from seungcheol’s dramatic gasp, you guess it’s from the same patisserie. you pay no mind to him though, moving onto the note.

i hope this letter reaches you safely! i got you this cake because i know you like strawberries. do you like them because they’re as sweet as you?

~ your secret admirer, lee

“wow, he’s getting bold! putting out a last name now,” wonwoo chortles.

you turn back to the slice of cake. so far, you know that your secret admirer is younger than you with a last name of lee, and he knows you well enough to know you dislike nuts and like strawberries. before you can narrow down potential admirers, you can hear someone yell out. you barely have time to register a basketball slamming down beside you, startling you so much you nearly fall over.

“oh my god, i’m so sorry!” you look up after recovering from your near-death experience to see chan. he lives right across from you, yet you only know he’s your underclassman and is jihoon’s younger brother. he looks awfully concerned, though you suppose that’s natural, considering how he nearly crushed you with a basketball.

you send him a reassuring smile. “it’s okay.” it may just be your imagination, but you swear you see a blush creeping up his cheeks. perhaps it’s just the heat from the sun, you guess. he bends forward to pick up the ball, apologizing once again, but you catch his eyes lingering on the slice of cake on your lap. you don’t have time to question it though, because he’s already jogging towards his other friends.

wait a minute. your secret admirer is someone younger than you, has the last name of lee, and knows you well enough to discern your likes and dislikes...

“i think i know who my admirer is,” you blurt, staring at chan’s retreating silhouette. seungcheol and wonwoo look surprised; you’ve always been quick at solving problems, but having done so before the end of the school day is an impressive feat, even for you.

“well? out with it!” seungcheol exclaims, eyes wide with anticipation.

you don’t have time to tell him or contemplate your next move, because then the bell rings, signalling the end of lunch.

you’ve laid out a solid plan: confront your secret admirer, turn him down because you have no dating experience whatsoever, and continue your last year smoothly. there should be no hitches in your plan, because having no experience and not wanting to hinder them should be excuse enough. plus, you doubt you’re worthy of being someone’s object of affections for a long time.

it seems your secret admirer isn’t done with his gifts, because even after lunch the gifts have been reappearing. they’re all very sweet, though you wonder why he chose you of all people, especially if the feeling may not be reciprocated. however, there aren’t any more hints that could lead you to him other then the cheesy compliments he writes you.

the school day has officially ended, and everyone is bustling around, desperate to leave. you’re sipping on a bottle of strawberry milk your admirer had gotten you while listening to a heated debate between soonyoung and wonwoo about the superiority of mint chocolate chip ice cream. “you actually have no taste buds, wonu,” soonyoung retorts.

“it tastes like toothpaste. of course you would like it,” wonwoo snaps.

“it tastes like toothpaste,” he mocks. “you haters use the same excuse every time. come back to me when you have a valid reason.”

 “it tasting like toothpaste is reason enough!”

you chuckle at wonwoo’s exasperation. personally you’re on soonyoung’s side in this new debate. wonwoo just doesn’t have taste buds. you’re about to support soonyoung’s side when, from the corner of your eyes, you see jihoon lingering by his desk, as if he’s waiting for something. “hey guys, i’ll be right back.” you excuse yourself from their conversation, eyes never leaving jihoon’s frame.

“wait! (name), mint chocolate chip, yay or nay?” soonyoung hollers.

“yay,” you answer. you can hear soonyoung cheering behind you, probably breaking out into his little victory dance. wonwoo’s muttering something about having tasteless friends, but you’re only half paying attention. you push through clusters of students before stopping in front of jihoon’s desk. “hey, can i talk to you for a moment?”

jihoon looks startled to see you, which only furthers your assumptions. “me?” you nod. “...sure.”

the two of you step out of the classroom and into an empty part of the hallway. a trio of girls passes you two, chatting about their plans for valentines’s day. one girl is talking about taking her girlfriend out to hotpot, while another is talking about binge-watching romance dramas with her boyfriend. you wonder how people can just jump into a relationship with no experience whatsoever. there isn’t a manual to it, so how do people know they’re doing it right?

you’re pulled out of your thoughts when jihoon clears his throat. “listen, correct me if i’m wrong, but i have an idea on why you brought me out here. but my answer is no. i’m sorry, i have a boyfriend, but i have a younger brother who-”

you turn to face him with wide eyes. “wait, what? what did you think i came out here for?”

jihoon gives you an incredulous look. “well, it’s valentines’s day, meaning everyone’s confessing to people they’ve liked. is that not what you’re doing? i’m flattered, but-”

“-i thought you were going to confess to me!” you exclaim. he gives you a blank stare, and suddenly you feel like you’ve been transported to some corny romance comedy. this is obviously the big comedy part. sighing, you pull out the most recent note, waving it around. “you’re younger than me by two months, your last name is lee, and we’re neighbors and classmates. you’ve probably heard me express my disdain for nuts and love for strawberries before. plus, you were the one who gave wonwoo the cake! who else could my secret admirer be?”

all of a sudden, a loud laugh rips out from jihoon’s chest, and you feel like you’re missing something very obvious and very crucial right now. “i admit that you’re handsome, but i have a boyfriend, and i’m very loyal to him.” he pauses to give you a mysterious smile. “but i do know who your secret admirer is.”

you widen your eyes in surprise. “really? who is it?”

he approaches you, pulling out a slip of paper out of his pocket. “i have been the one putting gifts on your desk, but only because i was told to do so.” he hands you the note, and you unfold it and read its contents.

the final note of the day! can you guess who i am? if you so desire, meet me at the basketball court beside the cafeteria after school today :)

~ your secret admirer, lee

“he’s waiting for you.” you look up at jihoon, who’s folding his arms. “now if you’ll excuse me, i’m off to get some boba. oh, and can you tell him he owes me twelve-thousand won? and no skimping this time!”

you’re standing by the cafeteria entrance leading to the basketball court, heart beating at a fast pace. you aren’t sure why you feel so nervous, especially with a solid plan in mind. as you lean against the door, trying to calm your heart rate, you catch chan at the court, shooting hoops. with wobbly legs, you start making your way down the stairs. at the sound of a newcomer, chan stops dribbling the basketball and turns to face you. “oh, hi hyung.” he pauses, watching you nervously look around. “are you waiting for someone, perhaps?”

you nod, eyes wandering the horizon. “you could say that, yeah. what about you?”

“yeah, i’ve been waiting for you.”

today has just been filled with surprises, you note, turning to face chan. he’s giving you an innocent smile, ball tucked between his arm. “i beg your pardon?”

he shrugs, shyly fiddling with the hem of his school uniform. “um... surprise?”

seeing how bashful chan is has you piecing the puzzle pieces together. your secret admirer is younger than you... chan’s your underclassman. his last name is lee... chan’s full name is lee chan. he knows you don’t like nuts but like strawberries... your parents are friends, and his mother always brings over fresh strawberries for you to eat. he’s jihoon’s little brother, so it’s no wonder you came so close. now that you think about it, it makes perfect sense.

...but it doesn’t. because aside from the times you drop food over at their place, you never talk to him. how can he like someone he barely knows?

chan inhales, straightening the wrinkles of his shirt. “um... hi hyung. i’m your secret admirer, and i’ve liked you since i was a first year. it would be really cool if you accepted my confession?” he frames it as a question, probably to make you feel less nervous, but it does nothing to ease your nerves. from the way you’re standing before him, frozen in place, his smile falls. “or not...?”

“i’m flattered, chan, i really am...” you glance up at him, and the sad smile he has on his face, the one bracing for rejection, breaks your heart a little. “but... there’s a few things we have to take in account. first of all, i barely know you. i don’t know about you, but i’m not quite ready to jump into a relationship, much less with someone i barely know, even if we’re neighbors. i also don’t have any experience in dating. and there’s also the age difference. i’m graduating this year. chan, you’re a cool guy, but do you really want to date someone who you barely know, who has no experience, and will be away before you know it?” you ask, listing out the different factors.

if seungcheol or wonwoo were here, they would reprimand you for coming up with excuses. but what else can you do? you’re being realistic, even if it may sound harsh. you look up at chan, who’s sad expression is replaced with one of determination. “all of your reasons do make sense. but hyung, i don’t think you should make judgments on who i am. like you said, we barely know each other, but i would love to get to know you more. you’re really nice, and you’re someone i look up to.” he approaches you with such confidence that you feel yours knees getting weak. “i don’t have any experience, either. and about the age difference... i can always wait. because i really like you, hyung. i understand if you can’t accept this confession, but i just wanted to tell you before you graduate. and truthfully, i’d appreciate it more if you just told me you didn’t like me instead of listing excuses.”

well, your whole plan is thrown out the window now. you gulp at the bitterness seeping through his voice. “the thing is, i don’t know you well enough to make any conclusions.” you pause. “this may sound selfish, but... could you give me some time to figure things out? i wouldn’t be opposed to learning more about you, but i don’t want to make it sound like i’m leading you on. that being said, just because i’m figuring things out doesn’t mean i won’t be upset if you decide to move on. you deserve someone who’s made up their mind, anyways.”

there isn’t an immediate response from chan, which makes you feel anxious. but then he approaches you with a wide grin, his whole face alight with hope. “i can give you all of the time in the world!” he chirps. you aren’t quite sure why he’s so happy... does he really like you enough to behave this way? “i promise you won’t regret being friends with me.”

you smile at his giddiness. “thank you for understanding. i’m really sorry about not being conclusive.”

he shakes his head with such fervor you’re reminded of a golden retriever with his blonde hair and all. “it’s okay. i’ve long accepted that not everyone can be a hundred percent sure about everything like i am. that being said...” he pauses to extend a hand towards you. “hi there, my name is lee chan, a second year. what about you?”

you chuckle. might as well start this friendship on a new foot, you suppose. extending your hand to shake his, you smile. “hi, my name is (first name) (last name), a third year. pleased to meet you.”

and that was two years ago, when you and chan were in your late teens, still navigating the hardships of high school and paving a path towards the future. truthfully, you had forgotten how your relationship with chan began in the first place, considering how you two are close-knit best friends now (though not as close as you are with seungcheol and wonwoo. they wouldn’t allow it, anyways). now, you’re a second year in university, still trying to navigate the trying hardships life throws at you. chan attends the same school as you, majoring in dance.

you’re sitting inside a booth in mcdonald’s with seungcheol and wonwoo, along with the new addition of jihoon. ironically enough, you two had gotten close after that event, and he had quickly assimilated himself into your little group. to seungcheol’s dismay, he’s a carbon copy of you and wonwoo, and now his tormentors have increased by one.

“so, valentines’s’ plans anyone?” you ask, taking a sip from your soda.

seungcheol dreamily sighs. “hannie, shua and i are going to a drive-in theater. aren’t they the best?” you exchange looks with wonwoo and jihoon. even now that they’ve graduated, he’s still hopeless as ever.

“yes. very cool,” jihoon deadpans. seungcheol throws a fry at him, but he catches it in his mouth with scary accuracy. “i don’t understand why people glorify valentines’s day when it’s just a corporate holiday.”

wonwoo snorts, taking a bite from his chicken sandwich. “and yet you’re the one with the most extravagant plans. aren’t you the one who’s going to treat jun to a fancy restaurant and then take him shopping?”

jihoon shrugs. “i’d much rather go to a ramen shop or do something low key, but junhui likes to do fancy things for holidays.” he turns to face you. “what about you, lover boy?”

“who are you calling lover boy?” you ask, stealing one of seungcheol’s fries. “and no, i have no plans. yay for single people.” all of a sudden, the booth falls silent. when you look up, you’re startled to see three pairs of eyes intensely staring you down. “what?”

“you have no right to say that. that’s wonwoo’s phrase.”

“hey!” wonwoo splutters, glaring at jihoon.

“don’t listen to them. but dude, you’re still single?” seungcheol asks.

“why wouldn’t i be?” you ask, narrowing your eyes at them. they all look at one another, and you recognize that look. it’s the one you and wonwoo would give each other whenever seungcheol said something embarrassing in front of his crushes. well, boyfriends now.

seungcheol sighs. “it’s been two years already, (name). you’re telling me now that you and chan are just friends?”

before you can protest, wonwoo takes out his spoon out of his mcflurry, waving it in front of you. “and don’t give me the i’m still thinking crap, because i see the way you look at him. that’s the gayest look you could give someone, and i’m surrounded by gay people.”

if you’re being honest, your impression on chan has improved since becoming friends with him, and you’d be lying if you said you only saw him in a platonic light. but chan has been waiting for you for a while now, so even if you were to jump into a relationship, it would probably take forever to make any progress considering how neither of you have experience. chan deserves better than having to wait around. “he doesn’t-”

“-deserve to wait around for me and he deserves better. we get it, dude, we really do,” jihoon interrupts. “but i’m his older brother, so i know him better than he knows himself. and let me tell you that he’ll wait for you like a puppy until you give him a definitive answer.” he stares you down, and suddenly you realize he’s entered protective brother mode. “if you like him, just tell him. so what if he deserves better? if he thinks so, he’ll tell you. worst comes to worst, you have three other guys to comfort you.” he gestures at seungcheol and wonwoo, who nod.

really, you do understand that the worst that could happen is you feel heartbroken. you know chan isn’t the type to throw you away like trash, botched confession or not. and yet a small part of you is afraid of telling him, because then you’d have to tell him about your insecurities, too.

“i’ll think about it, okay?” you tell them. the trio all give each other another knowing look; the last time you told someone you’d think something out, two years had passed.

“just two guys, sitting five feet apart ‘cause they’re not gay~” chan sings from the kitchen.

you roll your eyes, sitting on the couch. “i can’t believe you came here just to raid my fridge.”

he hums, reentering the living room with a bowl of strawberries in hand. he flops down beside you, throwing an arm around your shoulder. you think back to the vine he had been reciting moments ago, because they are definitely not five feet apart, and you’re very much gay. “come on, it’s valentines’s day. you won’t even spare some room for your favorite dongsaeng? what happened to singles for life?” he asks, throwing a strawberry in his mouth.

that’s the problem, you bitterly think to yourself. i kind of don’t want to be single for life. he’s oblivious to your turmoil though, grabbing your phone and scrolling through netflix. you decide to distract yourself by eating your bitterness away, but now your favorite fruit just reminds you of the botched confession from years ago.

you two had decided to binge-watch naruto again, and before you know it, the whole evening has passed by. you’re watching team seven make their way through the forest of death when you feel something on you. chan’s head, you discovered too late, is resting on your shoulder, and now you’re feeling bothered. the problem is, he isn’t even sleeping. “what are you doing?” you ask, nervously laughing.

chan doesn’t say anything, instead moving to lock your hands together. now you’re really bothered. “a little birdie told me that you had something to tell me,” he hums.

you clear your throat. “jihoon wouldn’t appreciate you calling him little,” you laugh. chan giggles at that, but his head or hand never leaves you. he must know about your not-so-platonic feelings now, because before establishing a friendship you two had clearly stated there were to be no hugs or hand holding until you had figured out your feelings. well, here goes nothing, you suppose.

“do-”

“-i think i like you but i’m not experienced and i don’t even know if i want a relationship and you deserve better than waiting around for me,” you blurt. the room suddenly falls silent, the sounds from the television more prominent than ever.

you’re already going through the several stages of regret until chan nuzzles into you, nosing your neck. at this point you might as well die from embarrassment. you’re supposed to be the cool, suave upperclassman chan looks up to, not the flustered puddle he’s reduced you to. his breath is fanning your skin, goosebumps dotting your body. “what did i tell you when i first confessed, hyung? don’t go making assumptions for me.”

you scoot away from him, releasing his hold on your hand. “i don’t even know if you like me still, and even if you did, jumping into a relationship is already going to take time. i’m just wasting your time.”

at this, chan furrows his eyebrows. “you are definitely not wasting my time, hyung. i told you before, didn’t i? i would wait for your answer. and,” he continues, gripping your shoulders. you’re shorter than chan by only a centimeter, yet you feel impossibly small in his hands. “i still like you. the way i feel about you hasn’t wavered once.”

you gulp, face a bright red. “so... what does this mean now? are we boyriends?”

he shrugs. “i’m just as clueless as you, hyung. are labels really a necessity?”

you laugh. “i suppose not, are they?”

“we can figure this out in five more business days,” he jokes, causing you to giggle. he leans forward to wrap his arms around you, resting his head on your shoulder again, surprising you.

you grumble, digging your warm face in his shoulder. “when have you gotten so charismatic, chan?” you ask, voice muffled. “you’ve really grown up now.”

chan hums in satisfaction, tightening his grip on you. “learned from jun-hyung. how else do you think he and hyung started dating?”

#seventeen #seventeen performance unit #kpop #seventeen x reader #seventeen x male reader #dino #lee chan #dino x reader #dino x male reader #renjuseyo : seventeen #renjuseyo : fics

[pub-lius]

ACTUALLY Hardcore Facts About Alexander Hamilton

Alright, take two.

I've already typed this entire thing out once, so this is likely going to be a lot more lazy than anything else I will ever post, so :).

Sources: Alexander Hamilton by Ron Chernow; John Laurens and the American Revolution by Gregory D. Massy; The Federalist by Alexander Hamilton; George Washington's Indispensible Men by Authur S. Lefkowitz; Lafayette by Harlow Giles Unger; Who Was Alexander Hamilton? by Pam Pollack and Meg Belviso

Hamilton wished for a war when he was like a baby. So if you know Hamilton, you know that one line where Hamilton says "As a kid of the Carribean, I wished for a war, I knew that I was poor, I knew it was the only way to rISE UP-" in Right Hand Man. Well, that line is based off of a letter Hamilton sent to his childhood bestie, Edward Stevens: "...Ned, my ambition is [so] prevalent that I... would willingly risk my life, tho' not my character, to exalt my station... I'm no philosopher, you see, and may be jus[t]ly said to build castles in the air... I shall conclude by saying I wish there was a war. Alex. Hamilton." Okay, dude, calm down, you're like two years old. I think he was actually like 14-16, but for dramatic purposes we'll say he was an actual infant (do I sound like Chernow?). But I hate how much this letter foreshadows. It's like he jinxed himself, its almost embarrassing.

Hamilton ran a business at 14. Now if you've ever been fourteen and you were like "i think i feel like running a business" literally shut up no one asked. I think this is impressive. When Hamilton was at least 14, the guys the owned Beekman and Cruger (it had a different name by this time but this one sounds cooler) just dipped and left Hamilton in charge. This was actually a pretty good decision, since Hamilton managed it well. There was also this one time where Hamilton told a whole captain of a ship who didn't perform up to standard, "Reflect continually on the unfortunate voyage you have just made and endeavor to make up for the considerable loss therefrom accruing to your owners." This man was so arrogant I wish I had his confidence. Yeah that was cool ig, but if I met teenage-Hamilton, I'd literally hate him.

Hamilton saved the president of his college. Ever the dramatic, Hamilton had a thing for suppressing mobs (though he was pretty much never successful). There was this one time at King's College where a mob formed to "talk" with the president of the university, Dr. Myles Cooper (by "talk" i mean make him into a tory bird). And, according to Who Was Alexander Hamilton? (this book gives me so much joy), "Alexander vowed to protect him [aww]... He stood up to the crowd, telling them that violence would only hurt their cause. He couldn't stop the crowd, but he delayed them long enough for Dr. Myles Cooper to escape in his nightgown," (Pollack and Belviso 27-29). This is a really sweet description of it, but Hamilton was probably calling the mob a bunch of insults and stuff, judging by how he later handled riots. Also, Cooper thought Hamilton was rallying the mob, so he was a complete jerk to Hamilton, but rightfully. Everyone, bully Hamilton. He's short and dead like an idiot.

Hamilton was really cool on the battlefield, don't @ me. Now, despite being a clumsy little gremlin and an absolute dork, Hamilton was a pretty good leader, and I guess veterans deserve to be recognized for their victories or whatever. At the battle of Princeton, one of my favorites, Hamilton had very big, cool guns, and did some cool stuff. "Returning to the final phase of the battle of Princeton, British infantry took refuge inside Nassau Hall, the building that housed the College of New Jersey. American artillery commanded by Capt. Alexander Hamilton [ya boy] was brought to bear on the college building... Washington was on the scene and noticed this young artillery officer who skillfully commanded his gun battery. The general would soon invite Hamilton to become one of his aides-de-camp," (Lefkowitz 92). Wow so cool moving on to Yorktown.

When the Americans were building their fortifications, two British fortifications were in the way. So rude. Consequently, Washington sent The Gay Trio, Lafayette, Laurens, and Hamilton, to uh, silence them. Hamilton pulled off a successful sneak attack, and won the battle swiftly, leading to the American victory in the battle of Yorktown, and therefore the war. "...Colonel Hamilton['s] well known talents and gallantry were on this occasion most conspicuous and serviceable. Our obligations to him, to Colonel Gimat [stan], to Colonel Laurens, and to each and all the officers are above expression..." -Major General Marquis de Lafayette. Lafayette is so nice I would marry him if he was alive and single and legal and not old as hell. Like omg he gave credit to everyone but himself that's so nice I'm such a simp for Lafayette. Anyway, Hamilton was cool too ig.

Hamilton caused the evacuation of Philadelphia like an iDIOT. So, after Brandywine (British victory), Washington sent Hamilton on a foraging mission in Vally Forge to get flour, horseshoes, and tomahawks (not quite as exciting as Yorktown). Well, our clumsy ginger rat got caught, and wrote to the president of Congress, John Hancock, "If Congress have not yet left Philadelphia, they ought to do it immediately without fail, for the enemy have the means of throwing a party [party rockers in the house tonight] this night into the city. I have just now crossed the valley-ford [Valley Forge], in doing which a party of the enemy came down & fired upon us."

Surprise, this turned out not to be the entire goddamn British army, it was just a few scouts sooo... let's just say Philadelphia wasn't happy. "Our Removal from Philad. Was owning to information that General Howe was crossing Schuylkill [River]... However tho' this Intelligence was from one of the General's family (Alexander Hamilton) it was not well founded & we wish we had not left Philad.," -James Duane. Yeeeaaahhh, that's awkward. Not the best way to get your name known in the capital, I must say.

Hamilton was possibly bisexual, and this is hardcore because I say so. Now, I'll add more quotes to this later, but basically heres my interpretation of the historical evidence and whatnot. Basically, Hamilton was a really closed off, cynical guy, since like everyone he ever loved died or left him pretty much, and he wasn't really the type to make and keep close friends; "...how little dependence is to be placed on treaties, which have no other sanction than the obligations of good faith, and which oppose general considerations of peace and justice to the impulse of any immediate interest or passion," (Federalist 64); It is a known fact in human nature, that its affections are commonly weak in proportion to the distance or diffusiveness of the object," (Federalist 73). Um, Mr. Hamilton? You're projecting your trauma on the government again.

Also, despite working with him for like twenty years, Hamilton really never got close to Washington, like at all. He even said to Laurens, "I have no friendship for him and have professed none," in regards to Washington, which is kind of mean. But he ALSO told Laurens:

"Cold in my professions, warm in my friendships, I wish, my dear Laurens, it m[ight] be in my power by action rather than words [to] convince you that I love you. I shall only tell you that till you bade us adieu, I hardly knew the value you had taught my heart to set upon you. Indeed, my friend, it was not well done. You know the opinion I entertain of mankind and how much it is my desire to preserve myself free from particular attachments and to keep my happiness independent of the caprice of others. You s[hould] not have taken advantage of my sensibility to ste[al] into my affections without my consent."

*mocking Hamilton* its YOUR fault that i love you and it was RUDE that you FORCED me to love you how DARE you you SUCK i love you uwu.

Also, at the top of that letter, someone mysterious (probably Hamilton's son) wrote, "I must not publish the whole of this," and Massey still thinks Hamilton was straight.

But yeah, that's about it. I had originally written more at the beginning, but I unfortunately lost the original draft, so I'll just settle for this. I hope you enjoyed, though, and maybe learned something or found a quote you needed or something. I did more research than I wanted to in one sitting for this, so appreciate it or I'll cry. Thanks love you <3

#alexander hamilton #hamilton #hamilton the musical #hamilton the movie #lin manuel miranda #ron chernow #aaron burr #weird history #george washington #amrev #amrev history #american history #american colonies #american revolution #the american revolution #the american war of independence #colonial america #stupid clumsy ginger gremlin #dorkface loser baby man #stupid litte idiot i hate him #he had his moments tho #this post hurt me financially #need a national bank now ig :/

[daddywright]

I have only recently got into the ace attorney fandom, and this story was the first story I read, and I feel spoiled! I absolutely loved every chapter, so I'm gonna word vomit here and tell you everything I love about this!

"She offers him a smile. It’s small, tentative, but it possesses a strength that makes a hidden part of him twist and burn with quiet envy." the first time we see nick's wish to be as strong as mia!

Considering the fact that nick didn't have any prominent figure in his life, it makes sense that he would look up to gregory so much

"Phoenix looks up, and starts walking towards Mia Fey

He doesn't stop for two years."

THE RELATIONSHIP THAT MIA AND NICK HAD WAS PRECIOUS AND DESERVES MORE THAN WHAT THE FANDOM GIVES THEM

"Larry’s arms wrap around him, squeezing almost too tight" People forget that Larry and Phoenix were good friends too, and Larry would help his best friend

"Nobody believed him, nobody but Mia" Maya is what Phoenix is to Mia and I adore that

"He wishes, desperately, that he’d said it while she was still alive. I loved you. For everything you did." Not you absolutely breaking my fucking heart

Also the first AA game felt unnatural in the sense of how seemingly unaffected Phoenix seemed at Mia's murder so I'm really glad you wrote it this way

"Expensive. Thoughtful. Too much." SHUT UP NICK YOU DESERVE ABSOLUTELY EVERYTHING

Also quick break to mention how I absolutely fucking love your writing style and i wish I was literally half as talented as you cuz the last time I read something that made me feel this multitude of emotions was ocean vuong. And I practically worship Ocean Vuong. So now I worship you too

"You're a stranger to me // When will I stop hoping?" I never really realised just how badly nick musta been hurt by good ol' bratworth before this fic, but now that I have read it, it would have hurt him so bad

"Is this why you never answered my letters? Because I was a reminder? Because it hurt too much?" Honestly what happened to miles and phoenix's friendship hurts so much because it should have never happened, and miles didn't deserve that.

"Maybe Miles Edgeworth is not the man he thought he’d be, either." yo when I tell you this hurt I mean this huRT

Fun fact! My birthday is on the same day as DL-6 anniversary. Gregory Edgeworth died on my birthday. I feel horrible now

"monster. You were nine years old and he's a monster. " No one has made me feel this much emotion for what happened to Miles in a single sentence other than you. I commend you for that

"I love you," he says quietly. He has never said those words to anyone, except for Dahlia Hawthorne.

Maya sniffs in his ear, crushing him tight. "I love you, too."

He has never heard them back.

PHOENIX HAS NEVER HEARD THE WORDS " I LOVE YOU" COME BACK TO HIM ARE YOU FUCKING WITH ME WHY NOW I'M SAD

"Tell me everything. Every detail—" Miles is worried bout nick and why wouldn't he? gods you're so gay miles but tbf if I knew someone like nick irl i'd go ballistic too

"He determined the motive for his own assault...with amnesia. Naturally." My man's smart af and he is king

"Is that what she thinks of me? That I'm like that? That I don't care about who the bad guys really are?" Gumshoe noooo you're hella precious! Also this particular chapter was so well written! loved this soo much!

Also taking a minute to appreciate the pacing! Rarely do I ever come across an author who just hits that sweet spot of perfect pacing and you did! so thank you!

Alright so here are a few thoughts that I felt capcom needed to do which you did for us!

no. 1 - Address the trauma phoenix faced with not only dahlia but also with mia's death

no. 2 - Actually fucking flesh out a good relationship dynamic between larry and phoenix

no. 3 - actually! have! phoenix! be hurt! in bridge to turnabout! istg my man would not have dropped from a burning bridge to a freezing river only to have a cold

AUNT FRANZY AND PEARLS MAN!

THEY CUTE

ok so I have a LOT of feelings for bridge to turnabout and HOO BOY BUCKLE UP

So I always thought that in this fic, miles must have felt fucking awful! I mean he very clearly hates who he was and what that has led to but that must have been doubled over with this case! Phoenix would have died if not for mia and it would have been indirectly miles's fault. I think about that alot

Like he said that he very much regrets whatever he did as bratworth in the phone call with gumshoe but i don't think he anticipated this. poor edgeworth

Also I think this was the final nail in the coffin for miles. Phoenix forgave him, after all the fucked up shit miles did, and that made that man go "how is this guy so fucking compassionate awwwww shit I'm in fucking love with this idiotic brave man".

my main thoughts were "holy shit phoenix must have been feeling awful." like to learn that you were in love with a person who turned out to be a murderer but then not a murderer cuz everything you felt about that was real and just...... it must have hurt. He never fell in love with dahlia. it was iris, always. and WHAT ABOUT MILES DURING THIS!!! Like to learn that the man you love was falsely led to believe that he was in love with a person he rarely met and then learn that his ex who is not murderous might still be in love with him because "that was real. that part was real." like damn. people just gloss over this

also I feel terrible for iris F in the chat for iris lads.

Dahlia literally haunting that courtroom scene. I felt mia's power. I felt her desperation. I felt everything and I am once again in awe of the absolute power your writing holds.

also godsdamn pearls had to go through all that shit huh. also FRANMAYAAAAAA THANK YOUUUU

I too, am a hoe confused as to what I should feel towards diego.

Ok anyways we jump to disbarment now

"He just winks at her and says Maya has other talents, and if Mystic Maya overhears, she puffs up at him like the fish from the aquarium she saw once, the one with all the spikes and silly eyes."

you know what constantly amazes me? your ability to change tones so effortlessly. When writing from edgey's pov, the language is sophisticated. precise. when writing from pearly's pov your language is simplistic, child-like. from phoenix's pov it's natural. grounded

"She never knew anybody who made faces like him, growing up in Kurain, and it’s one of the things that makes him special." Yo phoenix is the most amazing uncle ever and we all know it ok he's brilliant

I'M RUNNING OUT OF CHARACTER LIMITS

PEARLY CALLING EDGEY AT FIRST SIGN OF TROUBLE I'M SOFFFFTTTT

“I think I did something really bad." trucy baby no it's not your fault

pearl and trucy bonding supremacy. my girls would fuck shit up

"She’d meant to do this properly, one day." Thank you for giving importance to maya's feelings. thank you for treating her like a real human being. thank you

“Everything that happened...for what? It’s only gotten people hurt. Pearly. Our mother.” Me. Me." I felt so bad for maya here. I wish I could tell you in precise words about how this exact framing of the sentence is what broke me. "me. me" maya deserved more, but mia did all she could

"What do scared kids need? ...Food." not you breaking my godsdamn heart again. phoenix just knows what's it like being a helpless child, and he'll be damned if he ever lets anyone face that again

“‘Course, Pearls,” he says reflexively, before frowning. “What for?” reflexively. if every man in the world could be like phoenix wright then the world would be worthy of the gods

"Another one?" give it 2 years edgey she'll be your daughter too

"after countless hours creating the man’s living space in his mind from the background snatches he’d seen in the man’s ridiculous video calls." NOT ONLY DO THEY VC FOR NO PARTICULAR REASON BUT ALSO MILES ACTUALLY SPENDS TIME TRYING TO RECREATE HIS ROOM?? BECAUSE HE WOULD ONE DAY LIKE TO BE IN IT??? good gods these bitches gay. good for them

"because just as day is light and night is dark, Phoenix Wright is an honorable man." damn straight. you love to see it (it being a 27+ year old man pining for another 27+ year old man)

also hey miles! how do you feel about the fact that the man you love changed his fucking major and degrees halfway through college just so he could see you again only for you to be incredibly rude to him and make him end up in jail! (i bully edgeworth cuz i love him)

"Wright finishes, shrugging like it’s nothing, like his commitment and belief isn’t the most extraordinary thing that Miles has ever faced." it's more than pining at this point. it's incredible faith and trust. Miles had someone who cared about him even after all those years despite him having changed so drastically, ofc he would be surprised. Miles loves phoenix and so do i.

also HOT DAMN YOU WRITING IS JUST * MWAH *

Also the whole segment where they kiss is just !!!!! miles wants! it's beautiful! THEY'RE IN LOVEEE

receiving poisonous bottles which your ex tried to kill you with. My man can't get a break huh

Miles being chivalrous and protective and absolutely stealing my godsdamn heart (and phoenix's too)!

Klavier being the absolute king that he is we stan

The hostage situation section? gods miles must have been terrified.

Phoenix not being able to promise pearly that he'd always come back home and miles hearing it and like... ouch. my heart. you didn't need to do that (but i love your for it)

GODS THE CLIMAX WITH KRISTOPH WAS SOOO SATISFYING AND LIKE MY MAN PHOENIX REALLY PUNCHED THAT BITCH HUH

klavier baby I am so sorry

ALL'S WELL THAT ENDS WELL!

and thus my comment ends. I believe I have almost used up all of my commenting limits and i leave with these few parting words : HOLY SHIT YOUR AMAZING AND I LOVE YOU!

also I made a playlist on spotify for this fic! here's the link : https://open.spotify.com/playlist/3k8lRHiO8ZXQDLpiTUL7SN?si=fc3b35b4ab064867

gods this was long huh

GREAT GOOGLY MOOGLY....WHERE DO I BEGIN...THE FACT THAT YOU BROKE THE CHARACTER LIMIT ON AO3 AND MADE A PLAYLIST? WHAT DID I DO TO DESERVE THIS?

thank you so much for all the amazing things you said....i am crying on a Wednesday morning knowing my writing was appreciated this much. thank you!

#ask tag #long post #my fic #nymphietonkslupin

[blossom-hwa]

Brave - CHAN

I honestly still can’t believe I’ve finished this? There was a time I didn’t think I’d get to writing this fully until 2021 lmao?? And now it’s the longest fic in the whispers of nature series I need to go lie down

Dedicated to @wingkkun​ because screaming to Kai was like 95% of the reason I wrote this so fast <3 I also appreciate your fanart SO MUCH you are the entire reason tbz has such a presence in this fic!!

(reposted for... the second time without gifs AND links if it doesn’t work I'll cry)

Pairing: Chan x fem!reader

Genre: fluff, angst, nature spirit!au

Triggers: mild descriptions of violence (nothing graphic)

Word Count: 12.9k

Through tears, heartbreak, and a bit of love, Chan teaches you how to be brave once again.

SKZ Masterlist | Whispers of Nature

Red is simultaneously a color of love and a color of death. It is the color of passion, the color of a bride’s dress and the roses she carries down the aisle, but also the color of blood seeping slowly out of an open wound.

Right now, watching the wedding, surrounded by pale red flowers and silks and draperies, you feel as though you’re sitting at a funeral.

Your dress isn’t red, of course. No matter how much you wish you could leave the elegant hall and run away forever, you wouldn’t disrespect the bride in such a fashion. Not only is she the crown princess of your kingdom, she is also kind, a gentle, intelligent, bright woman who will be a brilliant queen when she is crowned tomorrow.

No wonder she is the love of your best friend’s life.

Something in you itches to just start screaming, to draw your sword and ruin the festivities. But you have no sword, only a sparkling ivory gown chosen by the kind princess herself. Today, as Jacob said, you are here as a friend. Not as a knight, not as a guard, not as a protector. A friend.

Somehow, that word feels so much worse than a cold “protector” would.

The dress is shimmering white, pale and beautiful, dotted with small crystals that shimmer like clouds and stars. It should make you feel lighter than air, light with happiness for your best friend and the woman he is marrying.

But the soft fabric feels cloying on your skin, heavy and strange and choking. It’s not that you can’t wear a dress – no, you’ve gone undercover many times at balls and galas as an unseen eye to protect Jacob, after he took his place as his father’s heir. It’s the situation.

This gown was made with good intentions. The heaviness in your heart has dragged those good intentions away, replacing them with dread, anger, guilt, and sadness.

At the altar, somewhere simultaneously very close and very far away, Jacob smiles at his bride-to-be, holding her soft hands between his rougher ones, reciting the vows that will bind them for the rest of their lives. You stifle the urge to place your hands over your ears.

Oh, spirits.

He says the word “love,” and you have to fight the visceral flinch that threatens to tear through your body.

His bride’s words are not quite as painful as his. You didn’t know her as well as you knew him (does she know his favorite color is burgundy, a red between scarlet and purple, the color of roses on the darkest night?), so her vows don’t sting as much. But there’s pain just the same – throbbing, subtle, never harsh but ever present.

The neckline of your dress feels too hot against your skin.

With sick dread, you listen to her voice taper away, see the trembling smile on her face as she stares into the face of the nobleman’s son. Jacob stares back with all the stars of the sky in his eyes.

(Did he never notice that you looked at him the same way?)

The priest takes their hands, guides them through the “I dos.” They are a radiant couple, pure red covering pale skin and silky hair.

Your heart, smothered in innocent white cloth, cries.

The priest’s next words ring through your head, rattling around your mind with a force to rival the club that gave you last year’s concussion. “You may kiss the bride,” you hear, muffled as though he is speaking through water.

The red-covered couple leans in close. One of Jacob’s hands cups her cheek almost reverently, while the other gently grasps her fingers. He looks at her like she hung the moon that illuminates the red roses of his night.

You’re a knight. You’re one of the Guard. You’re brave, courageous, able to face down any foe without hesitation, ready to fight to the death for your country and the people that you love.

As their lips touch, you close your eyes.

(You’re a coward.)

. . . . .

Your boots echo loudly on the hard marble floor. As you approach the throne, the large, wooden doors swing shut behind you with a soft thud. You sink to your knees, head bowed.

“Rise,” your queen says, her voice lilting and sweet and perfect in the shining chamber. Her king consort, your best friend (is he still your best friend? You aren’t quite sure), sits by her side.

Respectfully, you stand, careful to hide any vestiges of pain on your face. It’s been several months since the wedding, and you’ve gone back to the Crown’s Guard, assigned to protect the king and queen and train the guards for their duties.

The metal of your armor, though heavier than the ivory dress that still hangs in your closet, feels lighter on your body. It is protection, from swords and words and emotions.

“We received the request for your leave of absence,” the queen says. Her eyes convey the perfect amount of sadness and wisdom. “We would be sorry to see you go.”

Jacob looks at you beseechingly. He wants you to change your mind, to stay as his friend and protector. Your mind tells you that you should stay – after all, you know little of the other kingdoms, of the lands you have decided to travel and explore. Staying in the country you know best is the safest option, for you and for the royal family.

But your heart tells you to go, and on this matter, you will listen. You wouldn’t be able to live here long, watching Jacob and his queen rule happily together for the rest of your days. You wouldn’t be able to stomach seeing their children romp around, watching them dance together at balls, hearing the cries of the common folk singing praises of the royal couple.

“However, though it pains us to see such a trusted member of the Guard gone, it is your life, and we wish for you to live it to the fullest.” The queen smiles gently, holding out a folded letter. “This contains a copy of your signed request, as well as a letter of recommendation to any future employer you may seek.”

She’s kind. So kind. Your throat closes up as you take the letter, and you can barely choke out a “thank you, Your Majesty.”

“And do remember,” Jacob adds, “that you will always have a place in our guard, should you choose to return.”

“I thank you for your kindness, Your Majesties.” You bow low, touching your hand to your head in a gesture of utmost respect. “I, too, am sad to go. However, I do not doubt that I leave you in very capable hands.” A ghost of your usual smirk appears on your lips. “And I am sure, Your Majesty, that the King Consort has enough skill to keep the two of you safe.”

The queen, being the wonderful lovely woman she is, chuckles slightly. “If he was taught by you, I am sure he will.” She smiles. “We wish you the best, Protector of the Crown.”

. . .

Jacob catches up to you later, just as training has finished for the day. As you bid goodbye to the last recruits, he enters through the back door. You recognize his footsteps and put on a smile as you turn around.

“I could’ve been an attacker, you know,” he says, slipping into the easy banter you’ve established over a decade of friendship.

“You think I don’t recognize your footsteps by now?” The smile stays on your face more easily now, not because the pain is any less, but because you’ve had more practice.

A short silence hangs in the air. Sweat from your hair drips onto your leather tunic, while not a speck of dust lies on the rich silk that clothes your best friend. It reminds you of how far apart you are now.

“Is there really no way I can persuade you not to leave?” Jacob finally asks. His mouth is downturned in the slight pout you’ve grown to love, while his eyes hold the hope that made you fall.

Your mind screams yes. Your heart shouts no.

“Not this time, Cobi.” The nickname slips out before you can even think. “I’ve made my decision. It’s time for me to go.”

Jacob sighs. “Could you at least tell me why?”

You could. Speaking words isn’t as hard as other people think it is. It’s just that once you say them, you can never take them back.

Should you tell him?

His eyes are earnest. They’re honest. They want the brutal truth that you’ve grown accustomed to giving him over the years.

But the easiest lies are those that carry a hint of truth.

“I’ve never traveled.” The untruth falls easily from your lips. “Sure, I’ve gone to the countries where we were called to battle, and I was around when you had to go places for business, but I never got to really see anything. I want to explore, see the world before I’m too old.”

He doesn’t completely believe you. You know that for sure. You can see it in the downturned quirk of his lips, the suspicion as he blinks, but he knows better than to question it. He knows you would tell him everything if you could.

(This time, you can’t.)

“And here I was, thinking I could find you someone in court to repay you for all you’ve done for me.” Jacob smiles, completely unaware of how his words are stabbing holes into your heart. “Visit, all right? You’ll always be welcome here.”

You can almost hear your heart shattering, the pieces breaking off bit by bit as they fall to the floor. But you smile. “I’ll try,” you say, because here you won’t lie and say that you will. You won’t give your best friend, the love of your short life, a promise you may not be able to keep. “I’ll try.”

He hugs you, staining his silken shirt with the sweat of your tunic. You hesitate a moment, then fall into the embrace, taking a final comfort in the strength of his arms. It hurts, but it’s a memory. And even though you want to escape, you don’t want to forget Jacob. Ever.

“I’ll see you off when you go,” Jacob says when you break apart. “Tell me when, all right?”

Should you tell him? you wonder. Will him seeing you off do anything but hurt you more?

It won’t. But your pain means little in the face of Jacob’s, not when you’ve already hurt him so much with your desire to leave. You’ve injured him enough. “I will,” you promise.

Later that night, you wonder if you should have told him the true reason you were leaving. You wonder if you should have confessed everything, laid your heart bare and told him how much he truly means to you.

No, you eventually decide. You’re glad you didn’t. Better to not ruin his happiness with his wife or his remaining memories of you.

(Or maybe you were just too scared to tell him.)

. . .

You set out early in the morning, just as the sun is beginning to peek over the horizon. A part of you hoped that Jacob would be too tired to send you off, but you knew he could never do that. He cares for you.

Just not in the way you care for him.

He meets you at the stables, where you’re outfitting your favorite horse for the journey. In his loose tunic and trousers, it almost feels like the two of you are in your teens again, waking early to train for your positions in the Guard.

Those were the good days, you think. There wasn’t a worry in the world besides making it past the next test. Jacob’s father wasn’t dead, and he didn’t have to leave the Guard to take over his household’s duties. Meanwhile, you had no idea of your feelings. There was no heartbreak.

Better times.

Words aren’t necessary, not this morning. Jacob helps you saddle your horse and store your belongings in silence. If he notices you stiffening – just barely, mind you, you’re much better at hiding it now – when his fingers brush against yours, he doesn’t say anything.

When everything is finished, you linger for a moment more. It hits you that you’re really leaving the place and the people you’ve called home for so long with no intention of coming back.

Jacob’s eyes are sad but tinged with hope when he finally speaks. “You’ll always be welcome here, you know that, right?”

Your chest tightens. You know he’s asking, one more time, for you to stay.

Last chance to tell him, you think. Last chance to clear the air.

But you’re still a coward.

“I know,” you reply. “But I have to go, Jacob.”

He doesn’t ask you why, not this time.

You wrap him in a hug, one last hug before you set off forever. A piece of your heart shatters when he puts his arms around you, squeezing your body to his in that secure, soft hold that’s just so him. So caring, so sweet, so Jacob.

It takes all of your effort not to cry.

“Safe travels, Y/N,” he says as you swing yourself onto the horse. His eyes sparkle. You know he’s holding back tears, too.

You give him one last smile, imprinting the memory of his voice saying your name in your mind. “Thank you, Jacob.”

When you ride away, you only look back once. Jacob smiles in the distance, hand raised in farewell. A small tear on his cheek barely glints in the morning sunlight.

You wave back.

. . . . .

Travel is liberating, truly – though you loved being a knight, there’s something so free about not wearing armor all the time, not having everyone recognize you as one of the Crown’s Guard. You don’t have to listen to anyone, you don’t have to watch out for constant danger. You don’t have to worry about anyone, now, but yourself.

There’s a little guilt in this pleasure, as well as some unease. It’s strange not to follow the strict routine you’ve held yourself to for over a decade, and it’s even weirder not to have someone you are charged to protect.

Well, you have to protect yourself, you guess. But that just… doesn’t come as naturally.

You eventually force yourself stop thinking about it. Thoughts like these weigh down your mind and take away from the joys of exploration, you firmly remind yourself. So you content yourself with roaming small towns and villages, meeting the people, picking up new skills with which to make a living.

(You never knew you were so bad at cooking, but at least you get better.)

The spirits treat you kindly for the first few years. The money from your work as a knight keeps you afloat as you learn to make a new living (you avoid using the queen’s letter – that would draw attention, and you don’t want any of that now), and when that runs out, you put your newfound abilities to use wherever people care to pay you for them.

It’s not a rich existence. Nothing is certain in this life, not the way it was when you lived in the palace barracks and your basic needs were always met. Here, you can rely only on yourself for food and water and shelter.

But it’s enough. Everywhere you go, you meet new people – rich and poor, rude and kind – and it only enhances your wonder at the world around you. Truly, you think, you lived in a bubble before. Now, even though you’re poorer, you can see everything your eyes glanced over as a knight.

(And if you sometimes miss Jacob’s warm smile, even if it never spoke of love as deep as yours, it doesn’t matter. You’ve made your decision. You won’t go back.)

It isn’t like you’re losing your fighting skills, either. You still have your sword, something you refuse to part with no matter how little money you have. There’s plenty of danger – bandits, thieves, rich boys who think they own the streets – and as such, plenty of opportunities for you to keep your senses sharp.

It’s after one of these fights that you meet the moon child, Changbin. He appears in the dark alley after you’ve knocked the last man out and takes concern with the bleeding wound on your upper arm.

“I’m fine,” you try to tell him as he firmly guides you away from the alley and towards a dark patch of trees. “I’m fine – hey, please let go of me.”

Hearing the urgency in your voice, he drops your arm. Your hand immediately goes to the sword at your hip. “Where are you taking me?” you snap, eyes flickering toward the trees.

He reddens. “I’m so stupid,” he mutters to himself, rubbing his forehead. “I stay in the woods,” he explains. “If you’ll let me take you there, I can help you clean your wound.”

Your eyebrows furrow. “You stay in the woods?” you repeat, incredulous. “Why –”

A breeze shifts his hair away from his ear, revealing a pure white flower dangling from a slim chain, glowing in the moonlight.

A moon child.

Oh.

In all of your years of traveling, you never thought you would truly meet a spirit.

“My Lord,” you say, dropping hastily to your knees. “I’m sorry I didn’t recognize you earlier.”

“Please, none of that.” The moon child tugs you back up, looking distinctly uncomfortable. “I’m just a moon child, none of the ‘my Lord’ stuff. My name is Changbin.”

Changbin doesn’t turn out to be a bandit masquerading as a moon child, thankfully, so you allow him to clean your wound in his makeshift hut in the middle of the trees. He introduces himself fully as a wanderer. Not a traveler, he clarifies, because travelers roam the world for pleasure. He does it out of necessity.

(The look of desolation in his eyes convinces you not to ask.)

He becomes your companion for months, nearly a year, walking with you from city to city until he decides to part ways in a small village near a forest. By that time, you’re sad to see him go – he’s been a wonderful friend – but like Jacob never asked the reason for your departure, you honor Changbin’s desire for silence.

He does leave you with one piece of advice, “traveler’s wisdom,” he calls it (you punch him in the arm when he says that in this high, haughty voice). “Villagers will tell you that these woods are dangerous,” he says once the two of you have calmed down. “They’ll say it’s haunted by spirits. And there is danger, it’s true, but there is also safety.”

You listen carefully.

“In the heart of the woods, there is a shrine. If ever you find yourself lost or in trouble, go into the forest at the break of dawn and find the shrine. The priestesses will take you in. If you can’t find the shrine by dark, though, leave as fast as you can.” The seriousness in Changbin’s eyes tells you he isn’t joking this time. “The forest isn’t nearly as dangerous during the day as it is during the night.”

So you travel for another year, keeping Changbin’s words in the back of your mind. As you continue, though, money begins to get scarce. These villagers are more suspicious than others you’ve met and aren’t as quick to hire a newcomer, especially one so poor but who bears such a sword (you’ll never sell it, not ever). Their suspicion is understandable, but it doesn’t make anything better for you.

You’re lost, now. You sold your horse and fine clothes a long time ago, leaving you with nothing from your old life but your memories and your sword. You’ve become a wanderer, not a traveler – forced to roam for no reason other than you must.  

Several times, you mull over returning to the Guard. Jacob said he would welcome you back, and the thought of a full stomach and a place to sleep almost make up your mind on the worst nights.

But even though you want to see Jacob again, want to remember his warmth and kindness, a green snake twists its way around your heart, sliding up your throat every time you think of going back to him. He’ll never accept you, not truly, the snake hisses. He’ll never love you the way you love him.

And try as you might, you can’t stomach the thought of facing him again, not when you made the choice to leave.

So you remain a coward, a blind, stupid, stubborn coward. Instead of going to a place you know, a place where you would find care and acceptance, you throw your lot into Changbin’s advice.

You decide to find the shrine.

. . .

You’re on your last coins when you finally make it back to the village where you and Changbin parted ways. As dawn breaks, you take a breath, summoning your last strength, and head between the trees.

It’s eerie, a bit, but so beautiful. As the sun rises, the sky turns a beautiful shade of blue that melds with the trees’ greenery. It almost distracts you from the fact that you legitimately have zero idea where you’re going – Changbin only told you the shrine was at the heart of the forest, nothing else. You’ve been marking your path with stones you picked up along the way, but something tells you that won’t help much if you’re being chased by… an evil spirit. Or something.

(It’s embarrassing and slightly scary to say it, but you don’t think you have the strength anymore to outrun such a spirit, much less fight one.)

Luck seems to finally be on your side, though, because after exhaustedly pushing through a crowd of bushes, you come face to face with a beautiful shrine, surrounded by wild gardens and small stone buildings.

Several young men and women – a few barely older than children – look up at the rustling of leaves. For a few moments, they stare at your undoubtedly grimy, gross face. You only stare back.

It feels like an eternity has passed before one of the young women stands and walks up, a gentle smile on her face. “Hello, traveler.”

“Hello,” you manage, voice croaking with disuse. You clear your throat, face hot. “I’m sorry for intruding. I just… I met… I don’t know if you know him, but I met a moon – a man named Changbin –”

“You met Changbin?” Her eyes take on a new intensity and a sliver of joy.

“Um, yes.” You try to smile. “He told me if I was lost and needed a place to stay, I could try to find the shrine.” Looking down at your dirty hands, you bite your lip in shame. “I’m sorry. I can leave if you want, I’ve just… I don’t have a place to stay. I can cook, clean, anything you need help with. And, um…” You hold out the remaining coins in your pocket. “I have these?”

A rough hand closes your fingers over the money. “Keep your coins, traveler.” The woman smiles widely. “Changbin would only tell a true friend about the shrine, and a friend of Changbin’s is always a friend of ours.”

As she leads you into the shrine, the only thing you feel is guilty, overwhelming, crushing relief. Relief that you won’t have to face Jacob once more. Relief that you won’t have to face your heart once more.

The mere thought of your cowardice makes you cringe.

. . .

The shrine, you learn, is a very busy place. You wake up pretty early the next day, unused to the fact that you have an actual futon now and not just the ground, but already the other two girls in the room are getting dressed. Feeling distinctly out of place, you start to follow suit.

“Oh, you don’t need to get up just yet!” One of them smiles. “You’re a guest, traveler. Take some time to rest.”

“No, it’s all right.” You smile back, hoping it isn’t as awkward as it feels. “I’ve never been able to sleep too late, and I don’t feel right intruding on your hospitality without giving something back in return. Is there anything I can help with?”

So you find yourself in the garden after breakfast, sweating under the sun with a boy around your age named Kevin. He’s cheerful. Very fun company. Somehow, he makes the monotonous task of pulling weeds enjoyable, even takes your mind off of how out of place you feel in this quaint shrine.

Walking back into the shrine after spending the day in the garden, you wave off Kevin’s offer to bring you dinner, telling him you’re going to take a shower instead. But because you’re an idiot, you forget the fact that you have no idea where the showers are.

Kevin’s already walking away, and you honestly feel too embarrassed to call after him and ask. So, ignoring the curious stares you’re garnering from the other girls and boys, you start walking in an arbitrary direction.

It’s a mistake. As the sun sets, you feel like you’ve wandered the grounds at least four times, but you can’t even find a semblance of a shower room in the whole shrine. You’re about to give up when the priestess who welcomed you walks out of a nearby building, followed by a young man with curly blond hair.

You really don’t mean to catch his eye. In fact, you’re drawing away, about to walk in the other direction, when he looks up and fixes your gaze with his. His eyes narrow.

You suddenly feel very uncomfortable.

The priestess – what was her name? Priestess Yang? You think that’s it – turns around and sees you there, immediately breaking into a gentle smile. “Oh, hello, Y/N!”

Sheepishly, you wave. “Hello, Priestess.”

“You welcomed the sword-bearer?” the man interrupts.

What?

You’re not even carrying your sword. You left it back in the room, thinking it might be viewed as a threat if you brought it around. And you’ve never seen this man in your life. So how does he know that about you?

The priestess gives him a scolding look. “Chan, the shrine welcomes those who are lost.”

“But a sword-bearer?” he – Chan – argues. “You do remember what kinds of damage they cause?”

Indignation rises in your chest. He doesn’t even know you, and he’s already making assumptions? “Hey –”

“Changbin told her to find us if she was lost,” Priestess Yang cuts in smoothly. “If Changbin can trust this sword-bearer, I’m sure you can find it in yourself to do so too, Chan.”

Chan just looks at you with undisguised suspicion in his eyes. You glare back. How dare he assume such things about your character?

“Were you looking for someone, Y/N?” Priestess Yang asks, pulling you out of your annoyance.

“Well, no.” The sheepish smile finds its way back to your face. “I was, um, looking for the showers.”

“Oh, they’re just over there! I’ll show you the way.” She pats Chan’s shoulder. “I’ll see you, Chan.”

Chan smiles briefly, then disappears into the air, leaving behind the faintest scent of grass and springtime.

The priestess laughs at the shocked look on your face. “Chan is our forest guardian,” she explains, leading you onto a dirt path. “He helps keep us safe.”

Uneasiness crawls up your spine. “Is that how he knew I had a sword?”

“Yes.” She nods. “He sees everything, knows of all those who travel the forest. It’s part of his Sight.”

A ripple of annoyance passes through your mind.

All that sight, and he couldn’t help me once? you grumble internally. Thanks a lot, guardian.

Suffice to say, even though Priestess Yang encourages you to have an open mind, your opinion of Chan isn’t the highest.

. . .

The discomfort of being the “new traveler” at the shrine stays for a week or so. By then, most of the residents are more or less used to your presence (you just ignore Chan whenever he gives you one of his suspicious looks), and you’ve carved out a small niche for yourself, taking care of the shrine children.

There are more than you expected, surprisingly. You would’ve thought the shrine was primarily made up of older teens, if anything, who could find their way here. When you mention this to Kevin, he gets a faraway look in his eye. “The shrine opens its arms to the lost,” he says in reply. “It makes itself easier to find for children, because they often can’t journey here themselves.”

“Abusive families?”

Kevin bites his lip. “Yes.”

This knowledge only makes you want to protect them more.

As much as you enjoy talking with Kevin in the garden, it’s so much easier to work with the shrine children, you find. They’re sweet and kind, if rambunctious, and you make it your duty to keep them occupied and safe while the older kids and priestesses work.

“Y/N, Y/N!” One of the older children, Yuna, comes running up one afternoon. “Priestess Jeon said you could take us into the forest for a walk!”

“Who else?” you ask. “Not just you, right?”

“Chaeryeong, Sunwoo, and Eric want to come too.” She looks at you with wide, pleading eyes. “Please?”

Your eyebrows furrow as you weigh the merits and dangers of a walk. It’s going to get dark in a few hours, so you can’t stay out long, but if one of the head priestesses agreed, it couldn’t be too bad of an idea. The kids aren’t too young, either. They’ll listen if something goes wrong.

“If you get one of the messenger boys to come, we can go,” you eventually decide. If something happens, at least you’ll be able to send someone off to get help quickly. Just in case, though, you strap your sword to your side.

Juyeon meets you with the four kids at the shrine’s entrance. Your heart sinks a little – you hoped Yuna would find Kevin – but Juyeon is pleasant enough. He returns the smile you flash at him, anyway.

The walk is uneventful, for the most part. Eric and Yuna pepper you with questions about your work as a knight while Sunwoo and Chaeryeong listen in rapture. Really, it hurts a little to talk about your life in years past, but for the kids, you’ll do it. The smiles on their faces are worth it.

When you start walking back to the shrine, though, the air changes. It doesn’t ripple right – the wind feels strange, somehow evil. Juyeon clearly feels it too, from the way his eyes are darting around the trees. With an unspoken agreement, you begin herding the kids along faster.

There’s barely a change in the wind when the thing – whatever it is – swoops down. Only the blur of a wing in the side of your vision alerts you and you shout, pushing Eric out of the owl’s range and drawing your sword.

“What the fuck is that?” you snap, brandishing your blade.

Juyeon’s face is white as he gathers the children. “Screech owl!”

“Screech owl?”

Then the thing – screech owl, you guess – dives down again, and there’s no time to talk.

“Juyeon!” you yell. “Get them out of here!”

He doesn’t argue, just herds the children together and races away. Smart boy.

You’ve never fought an opponent in the air before. It isn’t fun. The owl is fast, too fast, almost like a damn mosquito racing through the air as you try to squash it, only a million times bigger and fiercer.

Your sword slashes through the air as you duck and twist and hide behind trees, feathers fluttering to the grass all around you. Awful shrieks ring through the air and you honestly can’t tell if it’s you or the bird – all of your senses are jumbled up.

Adrenaline courses through your veins even as the sun sets further, washing the forest in pale evening light. The bird seems to take delight in the onset of night – it swoops faster, hoots louder, and is in general just a much bigger asshole than before (if that was possible).

“ARGH!” A claw slices the top of your shoulder. If I had my armor…

But you don’t, so you duck behind another tree. Think, Y/N, think, you tell yourself as you heave deep breaths. Wait, no, don’t think. Thinking gets you killed.

Just listen.

The air is still. You don’t move a muscle.

Then –

The faintest brush of wind on your left.

Your sword cuts through meat and bone, and the owl falls, dead, at your feet.

For a moment, you just stand there, gasping, staring at the blood dripping off your blade and pooling from the owl’s body.

Gross.

“Thank you.”

For not the first time that afternoon, you let out a deathly screech and leap away. Clapping a hand over your heart, you glare at the newcomer.

“… Chan?”

“That’s my name.” The forest guardian raises an eyebrow, looking faintly amused. “Thank you for killing the owl.”

You just look at him, eyebrows fully wrinkled in annoyance and confusion. “If you wanted the owl dead, why didn’t you kill it yourself? You’re the forest guardian, surely you have the power to do that much.”

“I can’t kill things just because I want to,” Chan replies. It should sound antagonistic, you think, but the look in his eyes is softer than he’s ever looked at you. Appreciative, maybe? “It would upset the forest’s balance if its guardian killed one of those who live in its domain. I can only defend the forest against those that mean it deadly harm, not those that are merely dangerous.”

Wiping your sword on the edge of your tunic, you mull that over. “But if the screech owl was too dangerous, wouldn’t that upset the balance of the forest in the end anyway?”

“We weren’t at that point yet.” Chan raises a shoulder in a half shrug. “But you killed it, so we’ll never know if that would’ve happened.”

“You make that sound like it’s a bad thing.”

He laughs. It’s a surprisingly cheerful sound – you thought it might sound like, you don’t know, someone croaking (look, you never had the greatest opinion of Chan until this point, and that’s still in the air). “I don’t think it is,” he finally says. “And I’m sorry. I was wrong about you being like all of the other sword-bearers who came to this forest. You clearly care for the shrine children.”

An apology. That’s something. Grudgingly, you force yourself to see Chan in a better light. “Apology accepted.”

For a few seconds, you just stand there, feeling the air turn more awkward by the second. “Um –”

“Do you need the way back?” Chan interrupts, a knowing glint in his eye.

By all the spirits, why did you have to meet him when you were lost at the shrine? Now he thinks you’re bad with directions, which you swear you’re really not, you just hadn’t been at the shrine long enough to figure it out.

Embarrassment creeps up your skin as Chan’s smirk grows. “… Yes.”

(And, okay, the forest guardian is a little infuriating and you find yourself wanting to hit him several times on the way back. But really, he isn’t that bad. Though you’d rather die than let him know you think that of him.)

. . .

Chan comes back the next day. You don’t expect him there, especially because he never visits the shrine more than one day in a row, but he surprises you with a smile and the offer of a walk.

“This isn’t your plan for killing a sword-bearer without anyone finding out, is it?” you ask, raising a nonplussed eyebrow as you follow the guardian out of the shrine. You’re not sure why, but it’s so easy to fall into banter with Chan the way you used to joke around with the other knights in the Guard.

Chan snorts. “As a centuries-old guardian of the forest, wouldn’t you think I’d have a little more wisdom than to kill you after several people at the shrine witnessed you leaving with me?”

You very visibly keep a hand on your sword just in case.

“So why did you invite me on a walk?” you ask after several moments. Chan’s bare feet are silent against the grass, but your boots make slightly louder thumps as you step over stones and fallen branches. “I know it wasn’t because of my scintillating personality.”

He stops walking. “I’ve heard you used to be a knight,” he says bluntly. “I wanted to know what kind of sword-bearer you were to leave such a prestigious position and even befriend Changbin, of all people.”

“What’s wrong with befriending Changbin?” you ask, desperately dodging the first part of Chan’s implied questions. “You make it sound like he hates… sword-bearers. He literally dragged me away after I beat up a bunch of men in an alley with my sword so he could clean the one wound I got on my shoulder.”

“Ah. That explains it.” Chan nods. “He saw you do good things with your blade.”

“… Yes?”

“Sword-bearers killed the girl he loved,” Chan explains. “Well, archers, really, but swords were involved.”

You swallow. That explains his wandering tendencies. “Oh. Who sent them?”

“The king of Adment.”

The title brings a scowl to your face. “Oh, him.” You spit. “That would explain it.”

Chan looks at you curiously. “You hold a grudge towards him as well?”

“He was never the friendliest to my kingdom,” is your brief reply before diverting the topic again. “So, is that also the reason you hate sword-bearers in your forest?”

“Whenever sword-bearers trespass, they almost always bring destruction.” Chan’s face turns hard. “I’ve learned not to take chances.”

The ages-old anger in his eyes speaks of a wisdom far older than the youthful form Chan takes. You narrow your eyes. “How old are you, exactly? You said centuries, but how many?”

He smirks, though there’s something weary in his gaze. “I’ve been alive for over a millennium.”

“What?”

“I can tell you more about that another day,” he says, teasing. You want to complain that he can’t leave you on a cliffhanger like that, but the sun is beginning to set, and you have things to do at the shrine. “Do you need an escort?”

You resist the urge to punch him, forest guardian or no. “I’m not that bad with directions,” you grouse. “You just caught me on a bad day. I can find my way back.”

He walks you back to the shrine anyway. And day by day, after every conversation you have, he walks you back as well.

Kevin, when you meet him in the garden, remarks that you seem more cheerful after a few weeks. “You look like you’re anticipating something exciting,” he clarifies when you only dignify him with a confused glance. His lips curl into a smirk. “Something about Chan?”

Kevin probably expects you to hit him or roll your eyes, maybe say something snappy in response. Instead, your face only drops as the meaning of his words hits you.

Do you feel something for Chan?

Well, you love to hear about his life. There are some really exciting stories he’s had after living so long. He’s also pleasant to hang around, and you enjoy talking to him.

It’s just curiosity, nothing romantic, you tell yourself. There’s no attraction. Just a slight friendship, maybe. Nothing more.

Nothing like what you felt for Jacob.

“Y/N – hey, Y/N!”

You blink to see Kevin staring at you in concern. “Are you all right? You zoned out for a minute.”

No, definitely nothing like Jacob. You try to smile at Kevin, pushing thoughts of blond hair and kind eyes out of your mind. That’s stupid – you would never let yourself be swayed so badly again. “I’m fine,” you say, hoping you’re telling the truth. “Let’s go get dinner, yeah?”

. . .

As the weeks pass, you begin to wonder just how much was truthful in what Kevin said.

Walks with Chan have become a regular occurrence, now. When he shows up at the shrine entrance every other afternoon, someone immediately calls for you.

And the worst thing is, you feel excited when you hear your name being called, when you’re with the children or scrubbing dishes or working in the garden. Everyone around gives you a knowing glance and maybe a teasing smile as you rush to see the forest guardian.

One part of you wants it. You want to be able to freely enjoy these walks, feeling the soft earth beneath your boots as you listen to Chan speak. The forest itself is interesting – he shows you the overgrown faerie ring, the water nymph’s pond and the accompanying willow tree – but you think his stories are even more intriguing. You like hearing Chan’s voice. You think you’d like to keep hearing it.

The other part of you doesn’t want this, though, doesn’t want the budding warmth that you feel with the forest guardian, even as the months begin to grow colder. It’s not that it doesn’t feel nice – in fact, this is precisely because it does feel nice. Too nice. You’re starting to feel a stirring in your heart that reminds you of how you felt for Jacob. Though it’s small, very small, it’s there – you can recognize it from the years of heartache you spent watching Jacob fall in love with someone else.

You don’t want that again with Chan.

It shames you to want to run away again, to run away from a place that has provided you with so much comfort in the months past. You love the children, truly, and the friends you’ve made are wonderful. You’ve even started giving Juyeon lessons with your sword. But what other course of action is there? There’s no reason a forest guardian with so many centuries of wisdom would fall for a young, naïve human like you. Here, a love story is even more impossible than one with Jacob.

The decision curdles in your stomach, fills your throat with bitter, hot shame, but it’s necessary, you tell yourself. Better to cut everything off right now, before your emotions grow out of control.

You’re not that important to the shrine, really. You’ve only been there a few months. They’ll survive without you.

You just can’t go through the pain you felt with Jacob ever again.

. . .

You debate avoiding Chan. If he were human, you might actually have chosen that path. But just like you couldn’t avoid Jacob when you fell in love – you were too close, he definitely would’ve noticed – you can’t avoid Chan. He’s the forest’s guardian – he’ll know you’re purposely trying not to be found.

So you decide to cut things off on one of your walks. It feels so simple in your mind – get away from the shrine, then tell him you’re leaving. He won’t care, you tell yourself. It won’t matter to him. And as much as the thought hurts, it’s the better option.

It should be easy, really. Chan gives you the perfect opening – “Why do you look so sad today?” he asks, stopping you by Hyunjin’s pond. The nymph himself doesn’t appear, which you’re very thankful for.

Well, no time like the present. You steel yourself. “I’m going to leave the shrine.”

Chan’s face switches expressions several times within seconds. You watch, feeling a sick sense of dread and relief pooling in your stomach. It’s out there. You’ve said it.

But spirits, why does he look so upset? So angry?

Like you mean something to him?

“Why?” he finally asks.

“Well,” you stammer, his unprecedented reaction sending all of the rehearsed words flying out of your mind, “I – I’ve overstayed my welcome, haven’t I? I’ve been here for months already, and I’ve used the shrine’s hospitality long enough.” His incredulous expression sparks indignation in your chest. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Do you realize how much you do for the shrine?” he snaps. His footsteps, usually so silent, pound on the earth as he steps up to you. “You think you’ve overstayed your welcome – do you know how much I – how much the shrine needs you now?”

How much I?

How much I need you?

How much Chan needs me?

Slip of the tongue. You shake your head, trying your best to ignore it. “All I do is help with the children, work with Kevin in the garden! Chan, I’m easily replaceable – I’m just a poor traveler who was fortunate enough to find the shrine! I’m lucky that you’ve all been so welcoming, but really, it’s time for me to move on.”

“And what about the children? Your friends?” He crosses his arms. “What about me?”

“They’ll live!” you snap. “And what do you mean, what about you?”

Chan growls under his breath. “Are you really trying to say that I mean nothing to you?”

His words hit you like a punch in the gut, like that time Jacob accidentally rammed you in the stomach with the pommel of a sword.

So… not a slip of the tongue.

“Why does it matter that you mean something to me when I don’t mean anything to you?” you finally say.

“And here I thought you were smart,” Chan snaps.

Anger flares in your chest. “I’m serious, Chan! Why would I ever think I meant something to you?” You gesture wildly at the expanse of trees surrounding you. “You’re a millennia-old guardian of a forest of magic. I’m a human who ended up here out of luck. Why, even if I ever felt anything for you, would you feel anything for me? What have I done to merit your attention?”

Chan’s eyes soften slightly. “So many things.”

Taken aback, you flail for words. “Elaborate.”

“You’re a sword-bearer. A kind sword-bearer. A sword-bearer Changbin trusts, enough to divulge his name and travel with for almost a year. A sword-bearer he believed was pure enough of heart to find the shrine – and don’t stop me there, if he hadn’t thought you would be able to find it, he wouldn’t have told you of its existence.” Chan stares at you with that same soft look, that soft look that pierces your heart and makes you feel guilty, so guilty, because you’re not as good, not as kind, not as pure as he thinks you are. “You carved your place in the shrine the first day you spent there. Without anyone asking, you took care of the children and helped Kevin in the garden. You did everything you could to give the children a bit of the love they never might’ve experienced otherwise and protected them from a threat you knew nothing of, something that could have torn you to pieces if you weren’t as trained as you were. You –”

“Stop.”

Chan looks at you, confused. “What –”

“I’m not – I’m not even near the brave person you’re describing,” you snap, tears starting to well in your eyes. “Stop talking about me like I’m some – some spirits-damned martyr, or something –”

“But –”

“And even if I was this, this noble and amazing person you think I am,” you interrupt, tears fighting to slip past your eyes, “how many other men and women at the shrine are the same? Kind, gentle, whatever you want to use to describe me? I’m not special, Chan. I’ve never been.”

Jacob didn’t think you were, at least.

“Y/N, why – just – did you not hear anything I just said about you?” Chan tries to take your hand, but you shy away, pretending the hurt in his eyes doesn’t send knives into your chest. “You earned the trust of a moon child haunted by those who carry blades in a matter of months. Those at the shrine took years to gain his full acceptance. You proved me wrong about sword-bearers. You showed me you were fearless, brave, kind – you are special, Y/N,” he insists, forcing you to meet his eyes. “You’ve shown me that, shown me so much –”

“Stop.”

Your chest is heaving, the tears have spilled out, and you’re fighting for breath. It hurts, it hurts so much that Chan thinks this much of you, but all you are is a coward running away your feelings. “You don’t know,” you gasp, “you don’t know what kind of a person I am. I’m not what you see. How can you –” you angrily brush a tear away – “how can you not see that?”

“Then tell me,” Chan says. “Tell me why you’re so different. Convince me.”

You don’t want to. You don’t want to convince him, you want him to always have that beautiful image of you in his mind – a brave, gentle knight dedicated to protecting those who cannot defend themselves. But he deserves the truth.

And the truth is that you are a coward.

“I left my kingdom because I was in love with my best friend,” you spit. “He married the queen, and I couldn’t do anything but watch. I left because I couldn’t stand to see them so happy together, knowing I would only be on the sidelines of their love for the rest of my life. I left because I couldn’t bring myself to tell him how I felt, couldn’t bring myself to clear the air. I left because I wanted to run away instead of facing my problems, Chan! And even when I knew Jacob would always welcome me back with open arms, even during my darkest moments, I still chose to run away! I chose to find the shrine instead of letting my feelings go and reconciling with my friend. I chose to find the shrine and run away a second time because I couldn’t stand to face him again when I was the one who chose to leave.” A choked sob escapes your lips. “And now I’m running away again, because I thought you could never care for me in the way I’m beginning to care for you. Only you apparently do, but I can’t just stay here and let you love this perfect, noble character who doesn’t exist.”

Silence fills the air. Surely the birds are chirping, the leaves rustling, but you can’t hear anything over the pathetic sounds of you trying to control your tears.

“So now you know,” you croak. “You know the truth behind the coward this knight really is.”

You can’t even meet Chan’s eyes.

“You’re right,” Chan finally says. “For a knight, you’re an awful coward.”

His words stab you in the chest.

“Courage doesn’t constitute running away.”

You can feel the blood dripping out of your heart.

“It means facing your challenges head on, doing what you must.”

You clench your teeth, resolutely looking down at your feet. It’s the truth, you tell yourself. It doesn’t matter if it hurts. It’s the truth.

Then Chan’s trousers enter your vision. You stiffen, ready to back away, but Chan’s already tilting your chin up with one gentle finger so that you’re staring into his eyes. “But you’re brave, Y/N,” he murmurs. “You’re brave when it comes to protecting others, defending the innocent from those who would bring harm.” A small smile curves his lips. “You’re just not too good at protecting yourself.”

You burst into tears. And this time, when Chan presses you into his chest, letting you inhale his woodsy smell of fresh grass and sunlight, you don’t pull away.

. . .

“You don’t have to run away from attachment,” Chan tells you on the walk back to the shrine. “You don’t have to run away from familiarity, from caring about people. We care about you, truly. The children would be heartbroken if you left. So would Kevin and Juyeon and everyone else.” He gives you a gentle smile. “I would be, too.”

Keeping his words in mind, you put away your thoughts of leaving the shrine and try to open your eyes to how much people actually enjoy your presence. Some days, when the self-loathing rises and you don’t want to do anything but run away, it’s hard.

But Chan always finds you, if not the same day, then the day after. He takes you into the woods and tells stories until your sides ache from laughter and the sparkle – or so he tells you – is back in your eyes. With his slow, careful help, you begin to see the small, but visible effects you have on the shrine.

Eric’s and Chaeryeong’s eyes light up when you walk into the room. Sunwoo and Yuna fight for your attention. Juyeon’s calm face breaks into a smile when you show up for his daily swordplay practice, and Kevin laughs with abandon when you crack jokes in the garden. They’re small things, but you realize that leaving the shrine would’ve caused a lot more damage – to you and to them – that you didn’t realize before.

So you cement your place in the shrine, throwing yourself into the daily life of the place you’ve tentatively begun to think of as something deeper than a mere shelter. Juyeon’s interest in swordplay gives you the idea to begin training some of the girls and boys in defense. The priestesses agree after a little convincing – after all, you argue, even if the shrine isn’t threatened very often, dangers like the screech owl crop up every now and then. And if anyone decides to leave the shrine in the future and make their own life, defense could be a very useful skill.

Chan embraces your idea with more warmth than you’d imagine, given his aversion to sword-bearers. When you ask him about it, he just gives you that teasing smile that infuriates and calms you. “I trust you, don’t I?” His smile turns gentler. “You’re a good, brave sword-bearer. I think you’ll be able to keep your pupils from going… astray.”

You certainly do your best. Over several years of training, you watch Juyeon, Kevin, Yeji, and Lia grow into formidable opponents. Sunwoo takes more of an interest in archery after you fashion him a crude bow and arrow, practicing with the (kind of terrible) weapons until you buy him proper set in town.

Life goes on, and it goes well. Shrine life is peaceful as new residents enter – the newest resident, Haknyeon, is adorable – and you grow into yourself as the months go by. Chan never presses his feelings, only treats you the same way he always did until you’re ready to accept his care.

“Are you sure?” he asks when you tell him, eyes sparkling with hope and love and uncertainty all at once.

Your heart blossoms with love for the forest guardian. “Yes.” You smile. “I think I love myself enough to allow you to love me too.”

His lips taste like spring, like golden sunlight filtered through verdant leaves. Pressed against his chest, you feel safe, delicate in the touch of his fingers splayed gently across your back, strong in the warmth of his arms around your waist.

Oh, Chan makes you feel loved, loved in a way that slowly erases the self-loathing you’ve carried for so long, in a way that makes you feel brave enough to remain standing with each passing day. And even though you’ve still got a long way to go, you take comfort in the knowledge that Chan, your forest guardian, will always be there for you.

. . . . .

News doesn’t come often to the small village just outside the forest, so when there’s gossip that doesn’t pertain to the whereabouts about one villager or another, it’s worth listening to. This time, it’s a kingdom at war with another.

“Which kingdoms?” you ask idly, examining an apple.

“One is Adment,” the shopkeeper replies. You snort, a sentiment he laughs with. “Which was the other, honey?” he yells to his wife in the back of the stall.

“Was it Callia?” she yells back.

You don’t laugh when the apple drops from your hand.

Trying not to visibly show your distress, you wave off the shopkeeper’s worry at your expression and hurry to finish the shopping. To your luck, when you make it back to the shrine, Chan is already there, conversing with one of the priestesses.

“Y/N!” His smile drops slightly when he takes in your expression. The priestess quietly excuses herself. “Did something happen?”

“Callia – Callia is at war with Adment.” You swallow hard, trying to steady your voice. “Jacob’s kingdom. At war with the one that killed Changbin’s love.”

Chan’s face turns hard. “I see.”

“I – I feel like I need to do something.” You gaze at him, begging him to understand everything you can’t put into words. “Chan, I feel like I have to go back and help, somehow.”

Chan’s eyes are gentle but unreadable as he grasps your hand firmly in his. “You should do what you think is right,” he says quietly.

What I think is right.

What I think is right.

What do I think is right?

Your mind races with panic, but one thought emerges, crystal clear in certainty.

“Yes,” you whisper, more to yourself than Chan. “I’ll do what is right.”

. . .

The priestesses give you their blessing to return to the kingdom you used to call home. Juyeon, Kevin, Lia, and Sunwoo volunteer to come with you as well, even though you try to dissuade them repeatedly with how dangerous it’ll be. They could die, you stress – this is war, after all. But they insist.

You put off saying goodbye to Chan until the day before you leave. He’s the one who finds you, actually – he has something to say, apparently, before you go.

It feels so strange, walking with Chan through the forest with the knowledge that you may never come back. It’s not like you’re a stranger to the evils of war – every time you rode into battle as a knight, you knew there was a high likelihood that you would die.

But it’s different, now. Jacob and your fellow Guards knew the risks of war – you were all seasoned fighters, trained in tactics and stealth and strategy. Here, you only have a very small group of fighters – reasonably good for the amount of training they’ve had, but lacking in true experience. They won’t understand the true horror of battle until they’ve experienced it themselves.

There’s something else, too. You’re leaving behind someone you love for the first time, someone who cannot come and fight by your side.

“Can I go first?” you ask, stopping by Hyunjin’s pond. You want to see the still waters one more time before you leave.

Chan nods. “Of course.”

“I…” You look down, mustering your courage. “I wanted to tell you that I love you.”

For a moment, there’s just silence. Then a sudden flush spreads across Chan’s cheeks.

It bolsters your confidence. “I know I don’t say it often,” you continue, enjoying the shyness on your guardian’s face, “but I really do. I wanted you to know that I’m not going off to help Jacob’s kingdom because I love him the way I used to, but because I still care about him as a friend.” You gaze into Chan’s clear eyes. “I love you very much, and I wanted to tell you that before I left.”

He presses a soft kiss to your forehead. “I never thought you were going to war out of romantic love for Jacob,” he says quietly. “You don’t need to worry about that, ever. I trust you.”

Your heart explodes with warmth. “So what is it that you had to tell me?”

“I never told you how forest guardians are chosen, did I?” Chan asks.

You shake your head. “No.”

“Well, sit down, and I’ll tell you now.” He smiles. “It’s a long story.”

Chan tells you of his first life as an oread, a mountain spirit settled in the craggy cliffs not too far from the forest. He tells you of the last guardian before him, a teasing fae named Jaebum.

“A fae?” you interrupt. “Isn’t that… not a good idea?” As lovely as Han and his lady are – you’ve met them several times by now – you wouldn’t exactly call him a suitable guardian. You’d say the same and more for his more sinister counterparts.

“Jaebum was different,” Chan says. “He cared deeply for the forest. After the two centuries I knew him, he found someone to love, to grow old with over time. He asked me to be forest guardian after he died.”

“So the current forest guardian chooses the next when they feel their time is over?” you clarify.

Chan nods, gazing into your eyes. “Yes.”

And all of a sudden, you understand.

“Chan, you –” You have to clear away the emotion rising in your throat. “You want to pass on the guardianship for me? To whom?”

“I’ve spoken to Changbin.” Chan smiles. “He was very receptive to the idea.”

“But – Chan, for me?” The old uncertainty starts to plague your mind. “Chan, I’m just… I’m just me.”

“Exactly.” Chan takes your hands in his. “You’re you. And I want to grow old with you. Live life with you. Don’t try to argue with me – this is something I know I want.”

You can’t even speak through the tears running down your face. “Chan –”

“Come here.” He wraps you in his warm arms. “I love you, Y/N. I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”

For how long you stay there, crying into Chan’s embrace, you don’t know. By the time you’re coherent enough to pull back, it feels like it’s been an eternity.

“So now you have to come back.” Chan smiles, though you can see a glimmer of fear, of uncertainty in his gaze. “You have to stay safe and come back for me, all right?”

“Yeah.” Hyunjin suddenly appears from the pond and you literally shriek, toppling backwards onto the grass. “You have to come back to Chan, or he’ll mope around for millennia and send the forest into ruin.” The nymph smirks, though you can see real concern hidden in his eyes.

“Like you moped for centuries over your cloud nymph?” Chan retorts, lips curved in an exasperated smile.

Hyunjin sniffs. “Details,” he says haughtily, already sinking back into his pool. He sends you a glance, though, that’s full of meaning.

You must come back. Don’t leave Chan waiting.

You make a silent promise that you won’t.

. . .

The next day, your cohort wakes up early. After yawning through a quick breakfast, you quickly gather your belongings and meet up at the front of the shrine. Several of the priestesses cluck over you like mother hens checking on their chicks, and you dutifully take their warnings and cautions with as light a smile as you can muster.

Chan shows up just as you’re about to go. The others thankfully leave you two alone for a bit (though you scowl at Kevin’s smirk and Lia’s whistle).

You don’t talk much, just stay wrapped in each other’s arms for several minutes. Eventually, though, dawn breaks. It’s time to leave.

“Be brave,” Chan whispers as you pull away.

You smile. “I’ll come back.”

With one last kiss that tastes of spring greenery, you leave the shrine. When you look back, Chan’s already disappeared.

. . .

It’s a long two years spent away from the shrine. The pace is difficult on your friends, who have only known the shrine as a home for so many years. For you, it’s a bit easier – you’ve been a traveler for a good few years, and it doesn’t take too long to settle back into the wanderer’s mindset, moving around, never staying in one place too long.

But they don’t complain. They’re strong, resilient, and resourceful – more so, really, than some of the knights you knew on the Guard. With their help, you launch quiet strikes at the border of Adment and Callia, taking down Adment’s forces small legion by small legion. Your group becomes known for your silent ambushes, though you take care to keep your identities hidden.

It’s like being a knight again on a smaller scale – planning attacks and carrying them out, knowing that you might lose your life or your friends along the way. It isn’t entirely unwelcome. Fighting still gives you that adrenaline rush, that grim, satisfying knowledge that you’re doing something to protect the people you love.

At the same time, though, it isn’t as fulfilling as it used to be. This life of fighting battles isn’t for you anymore. Yes, you will fight to defend, but you’ve found other ways to protect your loved ones, too.

It just cements the fact that you don’t think you’ll ever come back to Callia to stay.

Finally, Adment surrenders. You’re glad, truly – you’re ready to return to the shrine, as are your friends. As you begin the trek back through some of the rural villages, though, a few posters catch your eye. They spell out a request for the unknown border attackers to come forth to the palace and be honored for their aid in the war.

They know your story, Lia, Juyeon, Kevin, Sunwoo. It was only fair that you told them – how could you lead them to possible death without knowing why you came in the first place, why this was so important to you?

So you ask them. “Do you want to reveal yourselves?”

“I don’t think it’s a question of us,” Juyeon says quietly. “It’s about you.”

“Yes,” Lia echoes. “We’ll follow you, whatever you decide.”

Their trust still astounds you, even after so many years spent trying to dilute the self-loathing that used to plague your brain. “Give me a day to think,” you eventually say. “If you say you’ll follow me, I’ll let you know tomorrow.”

You stay up all night, debating. Your friends have already spent so long away from their home, fighting a war on your behalf. Is it worth it to take the extra few weeks spent traveling to and from the palace? Would it be fair to ask them to journey with you for even longer?

No, Y/N. You shake your head. They asked you to decide, which means they want a decision based on your feelings, on your desires. They’re kind enough to know that this must be your choice to make.

You sigh, leaning back against a sturdy tree. Why are you so hesitant about seeing Jacob again, anyway? You don’t love him anymore, not the way you used to. It doesn’t hurt you as much to think of him. Spirits, you even came all this way to help him in a war you weren’t even involved in.

Maybe you’re afraid that you’ll fall in love with him again, a tiny voice in your head suggests. Maybe you’re afraid that you’ll want to stay.

Oh.

That’s probably it.

Pressing the heels of your palms into your eyes, you sigh again. You love Chan. You love the shrine. You’ve realized that fighting battles as a knight isn’t the way you want to spend the rest of your life. But you’re still afraid that seeing Jacob again will awaken feelings for him once more.

Wait. You sit up, frowning into the darkness. For your feelings to awaken, they would still have to exist.

You don’t love Jacob anymore. The thought of him doesn’t make your heart thump anymore, doesn’t choke your throat with emotions anymore.

Logically, rationally, seeing him again wouldn’t hurt the way it used to.

But love isn’t rational, the oh-so-helpful part of your mind pipes up.

You scowl. Stop making this decision harder.

As the fire dies to glowing coals, as your friends quietly snore throughout the night (except Sunwoo, he snores very loudly), you sit there, mind warring with fear.

By morning, you’ve made your decision.

. . .

The palace is almost the same as you remembered – high, polished stone walls surrounded by a bustling marketplace and lush gardens. The grass looks a bit wilted and the market chatter sounds subdued, but the kingdom has just gone through a war. You would be more worried, really, if everything looked exactly as beautiful as it used to be.

Anxiety bursts in your chest as you slip through the crowds, face covered in a scarf, getting closer and closer to the palace. Three of the Guard stand sentinel at front gates, and even though you’re too far away to see their faces, you’re sure you’d recognize at least a couple of them up close.

“Breathe,” Kevin whispers helpfully next to you. “You’ll be fine.”

You nod shakily. “Yeah.”

Two of the Guard cross their spears over the gates as you approach. The third steps forward, meeting your gaze.

Your heart skips a beat at the sight of an old friend. Changmin!

“State your business,” Changmin says, eyes unmoved. It stings a little that he doesn’t recognize you, but it’s understandable. You’ve both changed over the years – you’ve grown out your hair, while he’s cut his shorter, and he’s lost the last baby fat from his cheeks – and you have a scarf covering half of your face.

“I have business with the king,” you reply, heart hammering in your chest. “I believe my presence was specifically requested, along with that of my friends from the border.”

Faint recognition lights Changmin’s eyes, though they also narrow in slight confusion. He looks at you for a second, gaze piercing yours.

“Is something wrong?” you ask. “We can leave our weapons at the gates, if you wish.”

Changmin shakes his head, shoulders slumped in resignation. “No, I just thought you sounded like someone I once knew.” He looks down. “She had a sword like yours, too.”

Your heart hammers at your old friend’s words. What would he say if he did know it was you?

His voice cuts through your panicked thoughts. “May I have a name by which to introduce you to His Majesty?”

Last chance, you tell yourself. Last chance to turn back.

You won’t lie – the choice sounds appealing, at least to your pounding heart. Glancing up at the high stone walls, you feel the old urge to run away.

You could. You could turn away from the gates right now, leave Changmin remembering someone who will never return. You could travel back to the shrine and forget this ever happened.

But Chan told you to be brave. And being brave doesn’t only apply to war.

You pull down your scarf, smiling at the incredulous expression spreading over Changmin’s face. “You can tell him an old friend’s come back to visit.”

. . .

After yelling at you for never visiting and punching you at least ten times (your arm is so, so sore, but as he reminds you, you should just be glad he didn’t challenge you to a duel right then and there), Changmin brings you into one of the waiting rooms. “I’ll find you and bite you if I come back and see that you’ve disappeared again,” he threatens before heading back into the halls.

Sunwoo raises an eyebrow, looking mildly disturbed. “Bite you?”

You snort, smiling widely. “Long story.”

Too soon, though, there’s another set of footsteps echoing outside of the room. The smile slowly starts to slip off your face, and your heart, previously calmed by Changmin’s characteristic welcome, starts to pound again.

Be brave. Chan’s voice speaks in your mind. Be brave.

You steel yourself.

Then Jacob appears in the doorway, and the room feels like it’s falling away.

. . .

By the time your mind has caught up to the present, you’re wrapped in Jacob’s strong arms, in one of those Jacob hugs that you used to yearn for every day. It’s comforting, warm, but to your pleasant surprise, there’s no hurt. No pain.

You only feel happy.

“You came back,” Jacob whispers, more to himself than to you. “You came back.”

You just laugh, squeezing your best friend harder. “I did.”

Thankfully, your friends understand that you need some time with Jacob alone. Changmin leads them out, already bickering with Sunwoo (how they became friends so quickly, you’re not sure you want to know). In the silence of the room, you and Jacob just stare at each other for a moment.

“I –”

“What –”

You burst into laughter and Jacob joins in, feeling heady with absolute bliss and relief that your worst fears haven’t been realized. You haven’t fallen back in love with Jacob at first sight. His mere presence doesn’t make you want to stay.

“You first,” Jacob finally says when you’ve calmed down. “You first.”

The laughter disappears from your throat as your smile dims. “I never told you the full reason why I left.”

Jacob is a good listener, a fact that you’re grateful for. If he’d interrupted you at any point, you aren’t sure you would’ve been able to continue. Still, though, it’s harrowing, recounting the love you felt for your best friend for so long.

“When I left the first time, I didn’t have any intention of returning.” You state the harsh truth with a bitter taste in your mouth. “I couldn’t bring myself to tell you about what I felt, so seeing you only hurt. I didn’t… I didn’t want to feel any more pain.”

“I’m sorry, Y/N.” Jacob’s eyes are cloudy, filled with pain on your behalf. “I’m so sorry. If I’d known…”

“Stop.” You put a hand on his shoulder. “One reason I didn’t tell you was because I knew you’d blame yourself. It isn’t your fault. None of it is.”

Jacob sits in silence for a moment. “But you did come back.”

“I did.” A small smile curves your lips. “I found a place that took me in, allowed me to try and find myself once more. I found someone who helped me heal. So when I heard about the war, I didn’t have qualms about coming to help. It was something… I knew it was something I had to do.”

Jacob’s eyes clear. “I see. Your someone, your, um…”

“Husband,” you offer. It’s the closest thing to what Chan is to you that Jacob would understand.

He nods. “Your husband didn’t come?”

“No.” You shake your head. “I came with friends. We have our own things to protect, back at home.”

Home. That word surprises you as it leaves your lips. Home.

The forest, the shrine is your home.

It’s the first time you’ve made this connection. With the realization, a sudden burst of warmth fills your chest.

“I see.” Jacob leans forward, looking genuinely happy for you. “Things are going well, then?”

Briefly, you wonder if you should tell him about the shrine. You decide not to. That’s your secret to keep, at least for now.

“Yes, they are.” A smile involuntarily spreads across your face. “Very well.”

For a moment, the two of you just sit in comfortable silence. Then Jacob speaks. “Can I persuade you again to stay?” he asks, though from the look in his eye, you’re pretty sure he already knows your answer. “You can bring your husband and friends. There will always be a place for you here.”

It feels like you’re being thrown back in time to that day in the training room, just a few months before you left. Your answer is still the same as it was then, so many years ago.

But you have something else to add.

You shake your head. “Not this time, Jacob.” Your smile grows smaller, but softer. “Though I do promise I’ll visit you again.”

. . .

On the horses Jacob gifted you, it only takes a few weeks to return to the forest. You see the children and the priestesses first, waiting at the front of the shrine, followed by the other maidens and messenger boys. Their shouts of welcome bring a smile to your face.

Then Chan appears when you’re riding up to the gates, crushing you in a hug almost before you’ve leapt off your horse.

You lose yourself in your guardian’s warmth, in the strength of his arms wrapped around your body. It feels so similar to Jacob’s hugs, so comforting and soft and strong, but also so uniquely Chan. You laugh into his chest, tears beginning to stream down your face.

“I’m back,” you gasp between the tears. “I’m back, Chan.”

“I know,” he whispers, only holding you closer. “I know.”

A blissful eternity passes, wrapped in Chan’s arms, until he pulls back the slightest bit, just enough to press a long-awaited kiss on your lips. “You’re back,” he says one more time, as though he still can’t quite believe it.

“I am,” you confirm. “I did it, Chan.”

He knows. He knows, looking into your eyes, what you mean by “it.” He knows you don’t just mean that you fought Adment, that you came home alive. He knows there’s something more.

Something involving a certain past love.

Warm, warm pride blooms in Chan’s eyes. “Were you brave?”

Memories race through your mind – staunching bloody wounds, trekking through the forests at the border – but you know that isn’t what Chan means. He knows you can be brave in the midst of battle, brave in protecting those you love the most.

He wants to know if you were brave with him.

Your eyes twinkle as you remember the palace gates, seeing Changmin again, landing in Jacob’s arms once more. You remember his soft voice, his kind eyes full of real, platonic care, a memory you’ll treasure for years to come.

Where you once might have grimaced at the thought of your old home, now, the smile on your face only broadens with every passing second.

“Yes.” Your laughing gaze sparkles into Chan’s proud eyes. “I was.”

#inkidz #starryktown #stray kids #skz #stray kids scenarios #skz scenarios #stray kids oneshots #stray kids imagines #stray kids chan #stray kids chan scenarios #skz chan #chan scenarios #3racha #chan #fluff #angst #triggers #violence #nature spirit!au #whispers of nature #brave #scriptura-delirus

[canary3d-obsessed]

Restless Rewatch: The Untamed Episode 07 part two

(Masterpost)

Warning: Spoilers for All 50 Episodes!

Lantern Lighting

Now we have the famous lantern scene, where everybody gets to express their character and have dates, ranging from disastrous to delightful, with the objects of their affection. 

Wei Wuxian continues to be ridiculously good at drawing. 

We’ve all seen Lan Wangji’s lovely first smile in the show a million times, so...let’s look at it again!

This scene is important not just because of the smile, but because there’s a distinct shift in the way they talk about their growing relationship. In the pond, it was “come visit me” and “never!” “I want to be your friend” “No need.” Basically Lan Wangji firmly saying no to Wei Wuxian’s offers of friendship.

This time, Wei Wuxian says “let’s do this together” and Lan Wangji says “I’m used to being alone,” which is not actually a No, just an explanation. And WWX says, you can change that. And then Lan Wangji DOES change it, sharing the lantern and the promise with Wei Wuxian.

Whoever painted this flower is even better than Wei Wuxian at plein air painting. 

(more after the cut!)

Everybody’s wishes

Nie Huasang makes a practical wish. Wen Qing prays for her brother and Jiang Cheng notices how she’s like Yanli. Jiang Cheng isn’t very intense about Wen Qing, which could be a sign of his shyness but could also be a sign of his gayness or aceness. After all, later in life he’s an apparently wealthy clan leader who is hot as fuck, and needs an heir, since his nephew is a Jin. But he’s still not married, 16 years after breaking up with and uh, helping to kill and cremate, the girl he liked in summer school.

The Promise We Made Together

Wei Wuxian makes an ultra-idealistic wish/promise while Lan Wangji watches and falls the rest of the way in love with him, and silently makes the same pledge inside his head. Later they will each refer to this as a promise they made together, which is a really super high level of face-reading by Wei Wuxian, to understand that he really is speaking for both of them here.  While making this promise, Lan Wangji brings out his Yin Iron Magic Bag and waves it around in front of everyone, but nobody notices. 

Let’s take a moment to consider *why* this moment is so powerful for Lan Wangji. Lan Wangji is a boy whose emotions are always on the boil. He’s 100% upset all the time, at this age, and he keeps it clamped down all the time. His cultivation level is probably as high as it is partly because of all the work he does in emotion regulation. (note: if you haven’t read all the meta at @howpeacefulislwj​ , go read it; it’s awesome and hilarious)

Wei Wuxian doesn’t GAF about emotion regulation; he just expresses what he feels, all the damn time. 

He is openly bored, lusty, playful, hungry, whiny. He straight up tells Lan Wangji “you’re boring and you have a stick up your ass” as part of saying he wants to be friends; no deference and also no falseness.  

And he can see right through Lan Wangji’s reserve, barging into his loneliness and isolation without any regard for all of his wards. Wards are made to be broken.

(Unrelated note: Young Lan Wangji's rare moments of contentment seem to come from looking at something beautiful--the moon, falling petals, these lanterns, his mirror.)

But Wei Wuxian is also good. Lan Wangji desperately wants to be good. And here’s Wei Wuxian embodying this awful, amazing, tempting alternative path, in which all the interesting things in life get explored thoroughly, all the sweetness and beauty gets consumed unreservedly, all the pain and ugliness gets confronted and endured without hesitation. 

In this moment, Wei Wuxian tells Lan Wangji “you can change,” and then offers up this prayer/promise that is just pure chivarly, speaking straight to Lan Wangji’s heart. Very simply, I want to spend my life doing right. Not 3500 rules; just one.

This infuriating boy, who breaks rules and who flirts indiscriminately and who pushes and pushes and pushes, reveals himself in this moment to be a hero at the beginning of his journey, and Lan Wangji sees it, and his heart goes right over the cliff.

The Girls’ Room

The girl cultivators all rush over to Yanli to get in her business about her betrothal, inspiring Jin Zixuan to act like a jerk to her and get even further onto Wei Wuxian’s bad side. 

Talk Shit, Get Hit

Yanli’s wish was that Wei Wuxian would grow up and be good. He promptly launches his own personal Sunshot campaign, punching her fiancee so hard that the sun falls out of the sky and the previously well-lit scene transitions to full night.

So, in English, “don’t mention it again” is really mild, akin to “I don’t want to talk about it.” Wei Wuxian’s reaction makes it seem like Jin Zixuan said something really shitty, like “don’t you dare mention that woman to me!” So I’m assuming something is being lost in translation. 

Lan Wangji tries to calm him down. He grabs Wei Wuxian’s sexy arm muscle and basically holds it until the Jiangs exit the scene. 

Nie Huaisang has placed himself between the opposing factions, which is unusually direct of him. In the future he’ll stick to being an unindicted co-conspirator when Wei Wuxian starts trouble. 

Ants in my Pants

Lan Wangji thinks kneeling can make Wei Wuxian cry, which is adorable of him. 

He really relishes this opportunity to be a pedantic tool to his new boyfriend that annoying boy he hardly ever touches, and it really doesn’t work out for him, poor lamb.

Jiang Fengmian stops by to show exactly how deep his affection for Wei Wuxian runs, and to give him whiplash from constantly changing parental expectations. In a couple of hours he’ll be laughing over WWX & JC’s hijinks.

Wei Wuxian takes this opportunity to fantasize about bad things happening to the other boy in the fight, which is in no way foreshadowing of anything.

Douche Dads Conference

We now convene this meeting of the douchebag council. Jiang Cheng is also invited even though he’s a prick, not a douche. <--important distinction

This is our first time meeting Clan Leader Jin Guangshan. He's actually the most sensible and best parent in this scene, but his smug self-satisfaction hints at his true nature. This actor, Shen Xiaohai, has been active in cdramas for a long while now. I wonder what he looked like 15 years ago?

...Holy mother of god.

Jiang Fengmian is the worst dad and the worst husband here. His clan believes in letting children do what they want - uhh YOUR child wants to marry Jin Zixuan. “I wrote a letter to her mother, who arranged this marriage.” Uhhh she arranged for her sickly, low-cultivation-level, sweet and vulnerable child to marry the heir of a rich and powerful clan, with a powerful mother-in-law who’s looking forward to loving and protecting her. Basically she’s guaranteed her daughter’s safety and comfort, and even potential happiness, since her husband may learn to appreciate her (and in fact, does, thanks to soup and repeated beatings from WWX).

Mom worked hard and probably spent a fair amount of social capital to achieve this. And you’re going to toss that aside because the boy thinks he’s too good for her? What the everloving fuck, how are you a clan leader in the first place? 

You can see that Jiang Cheng understands all of this and what a terrible choice his father is making here. 

So do the other adults in the room.

Jin Guangshen: our wives are going to kill us

Lan Qiren: I'm looking at a couple of dead men

Jiang Fengmian pointedly won’t listen to Jiang Cheng or let him speak, showing that all his talk about being free is actually bullshit, that only applies to other people’s children.

Jiang Chang vaults off of the deck to tell Wei Wuxian about it. Hottt

Sorry Sis

Wei Wuxian goes to Jiang Yanli to sorta-apologize and sorta ask to be let off the hook for fucking up her engagement, which he absolutely did. He knows it, which is presumably why he bows to her in paperman form while hiding outside.

At no time has Jiang Yanli indicated to anyone that she doesn’t want to marry Jin Zixuan, as far as I can see, or said she wanted to be defended from insults with punching. Look how good SHE is at defending a person from insults, for comparison.

Yin Iron Blah Blah Blah

The senior Lans meet with Jiang Fengmian  to talk about the Yawn Yin Iron. Yawn. 

Jiang Fengmian addresses Lan Xichen as Lan Gongzi, which is adorable, since he is a big boy to everyone else. His family calls him Xichen and other people call him Zewu-Jun.

Farewell and Fuck You

The three Jiang kids come to say goodbye.

Lan Quiren says goodbye with a heap of criticism for Wei Wuxian and the horse he rode in on, and Jiang Fengmian basically says, yep, that’s what he’s like, all right.  

Good thing Wei Ying gets so much verbal abuse at home he doesn’t take it very hard when he finds it in the field. 

Wangji doesn’t say goodbye properly, which will be a recurring theme for the two of them.

I don’t know if this is because he has a problem with goodbyes, or is just being a jerk, or because he’s so bad at lying he doesn’t dare talk to Wei Wuxian lest he reveal his travel plans. 

Indulgent Dad Continues to be the Worst

Jiang Cheng complains at Wei Wuxian for wanting to say goodbye to Lan Wangji, and WWX says he likes him because he is equal to WWX in fighting, whereas JC sucks. JC hits him tries to hit him--gosh, he DOES suck, comparatively. 

Yanli, who has been keeping these boys in line all summer, sighs deeply at her Dad’s tolerance for their hijinks. OP has five brothers and this sibling-hijinks behavior is 100% accurate, except for the part where it is happening at someone else’s house in front of the hosts. 

WWX pretending to be Lan Qiren where Lan Wangji can see him doing it, in front of Lan Qiren’s colleague and supposed friend, and just earning a laugh from the patriarch? Good lord.  Dad Jiang tolerating this is shocking, particularly in the in-show culture where corporal punishment is as common as tea. 

We’ve tried Nothing, and we’re all out of ideas!

Uggghh why are you like this?

Here in the real world, OP uses “positive discipline” with her child, and encourages other parents to consider it, particularly if your child is neuroatypical or asynchronous.  That said, JF should be punishing the crap out of both boys for this behavior every time it happens, or should quit being a clan leader.  He’s relying on Jiang Yanli to keep them in line while he gets to just be amused by them. And he’s letting Lan Qiren discipline Wei Wuxian instead of doing it himself. He suuuuuuucks. 

Lan Wangji watches all of this. Lan Xichen reminds Lan Wangji that without Wei Wuxian, he’s completely fucking miserable. Lan Wangji still doesn’t plan to bring him along on his trip, though.

Time to return to our lives of crushing loneliness

Rabbits

At this same moment when Lan Wangji is staring down the barrel of future loneliness, Wei Wuxian is already deciding to leave the (forbidden) rabbits in Cloud Recesses “In case Lan Zhan gets lonely.”  This small decision by Wei Wuxian - breaking the rules of Cloud Recesses for the millionth time - is kinder than he knows. Because what is the job of these rabbits? Let’s have a desaturated flashback. 

Lan Zhan spent 3 years in the ice cave. The rabbits kept Lan Yi company in the ice cave. So...did the rabbits sneak in to keep Lan Wangji company in the ice cave as well? I’m going to say yes. By ep 43 they are following him to the gate of Cloud Recesses so they are very attached to him.  Well done, Wei Ying.

Where my bitches at? Seriously, our warren needs bitches

(Is Watership Down still a thing people read? If not, just go ahead and assume all of OP’s rabbit jokes are about Watership Down because OP ain’t going to stop making them)

While Wei Wuxian annoys the bunny he has a flashback to the scene that happened 4 minutes earlier. The Untamed editors assume the viewership has the attention span of a goldfish, and I personally appreciate that they understand me so well.

Wei Wuxian figures out that Lan Wangji is going on the road alone, and tells the bunny immediately. The bunny is very concerned.

Writing Prompt: What do next-generation cultivators Lan Sizhui and Lan Jingyi wish for at lantern-lighting time?

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