#hello to my fellow southerners who understand

[storm-called]

forgot to show off my most recently-acquired creature

bit of a gag character cause I really wanted a healer named Bless Your Heart :)

#hello to my fellow southerners who understand #long-suffering aggressive healer with a squeaky southern accent

[lostdreamr-blog1]

Seresin's Date

Summary: You had a date that night, but your brother wanted to be there to meet him. Don’t want to give too much away but know big brother Jake isn’t happy!

Pairings: Jake Seresin x Sister!Reader, Mystery Date x Reader

Warnings: Use of swear words, not too much else

Word count: 1.7k

Requested: Thank you Anon for this fun request! I hope you enjoy it!!

A/N: Thank you all so much for reading. Inbox is open for requests, questions, or to say hello! If you have requested something, know that it is being worked on!

Jake was currently tapping his foot on the ground, agitation rolling off him in waves. It was clear to anyone around him that the laid-back pilot wasn’t here today, and they would do best to tread lightly. Natasha had been dying to know what had him all riled up, but the day was filled with training runs and debriefs. It wasn’t until they were walking to the locker room that she was able to poke the bear.

“What has your panties in a twist?” Bob shook his head at how little she cared about his feelings but was secretly curious as well. From past experiences, it took a lot to get him as wound up as he is now.

“Don’t want to talk about it.” They didn’t miss the way his eyes flickered to the clock on the wall, giving them a small clue to work with.

“Afraid you’re going to be late for whatever girl you brainwashed into going out with you?” Natasha knew it wasn’t that simple. Jake hadn’t been bragging all day about who he picked up at the bar. But she knew that was the best way to get him talking.

They reached the locker room and Jake forcefully opened his locker, tossing his helmet inside.

“My sister has a date tonight and I want to be there to meet this son of a bitch. Let him know that she isn’t the kind of girl he can mess with. But now I’m running late, and she made it clear she wasn’t waiting on me.” They all watched him run a hand through his hair, silently taking in this new side of him.

Javy knew this was going to happen. Of all the sisters Jake had, you were the one he kept a close eye on. Growing up, you weren’t the perfect southern bell your mom had tried to mold, and your dad was too focused on his career to do much parenting. Leaving Jake to be the parental figure you needed to stay out of trouble as well as be shown the love and affection that you missed out on. The two of you had an unbreakable bond which made situations like this tough on him. No matter how old you got, you were still his baby sister.

“Your sister? The one who just moved here like a week ago?” Jake sent a threatening glare at Bob who spoke up for the first time. This resulted in him throwing his hands up in surrender, hoping Jake wasn’t going to turn on him.

“Yeah, that one. I don’t even understand how she found a guy that fast. Or where for that matter.” He had finished changing into his civilian clothes and turned to face the guy whose locker was next to his.

“What? Nothing to add, bird boy?” Bradley wanted to say many things but decided to keep them to himself. Jake hadn’t ever laid hands on a fellow pilot, no matter how provoked, but he wasn’t about to test the boundaries.  

“Nah man. Just try not to kill the poor guy tonight. I don’t think the military takes too kindly on murderers.” Bradley couldn’t hold back the small smirk but didn’t dare to meet Jake’s gaze. He knew it wouldn’t end well if he did.

Jake let out a huff and stormed out of the room. Javy told him in passing to call him if needed. He had no issues being back up when it came to the Seresin family.

With some miracle of not getting pulled over on the way to your apartment, Jake practically ran up the stairs to the second floor, taking two steps at a time. He unlocked the door to find you dancing around in shorts and a tank top, music being played louder than it should, not looking like you were anywhere near being ready.

Your face lit up when you saw your brother walking through the doorway. “Perfect timing! I need help picking out what to wear.” You saw the eye roll that was directed towards you, but you knew it was playful. Skipping back to your room, you came back out holding up two simple dresses. A black one and a red one. They really weren’t anything fancy, but colors seemed to make a difference no matter the style.

“Neither. Go put on some jean and a sweater or something.” Jake leaned back on the counter and crossed his arms, watching as you shook your head at him.

“It’s summer in California. While it may get a bit chilly with the wind, I’m not dressing for winter just to please you. I think I’ll go with the black.” You walked back into your room to change, but a knock on the door stopped you. Your date was ten minutes early, something that would please your brother but now had you scrambling to finish getting ready.

You yelled out, “Play nice. I didn’t put makeup on for nothing, so you better not run the guy off.” Grumbling was what was heard from the other room, but you smiled to yourself as you waited for the next few minutes to play out.

Jake opened the door and tilted his head to the side in confusion.   

“What are you…” Then it clicked. His teammate with the obnoxious mustache was standing at your door in a nice button-down shirt and slacks, holding a bouquet of flowers. “Absolutely fucking not. Turn your ass around and leave.”

Bradley knew he was going to be fighting an uphill battle the second you told him your last name a few days ago. Somehow, he got lucky and accidentally bumped into you at the supermarket. The two of you seemed to hit it off, and he almost didn’t believe when you said you were related to Jake.

And it didn’t help that Jake was quicker than he was leaving today. Maverick was doing him a solid and purposely dragging out the debrief, hoping to give him enough time to slip past his teammate.

But one thing he didn’t put into thought was that right now Jake wasn’t his teammate. Right now, he was the overprotective brother who wanted nothing more than to kill him.

“There is nothing I can say right now that will make you happy, is there?” Bradley casually looked over Jake’s shoulder, hoping if he could prolong this conversation, you would come to his rescue.

“Unless the words consist of, ‘Tell your sister I’m sorry and have a good night’ then no.” Jake blocked the doorway, not letting Bradley see any bit inside your apartment. His mind was struggling to figure out what to say, but a small hand appeared on Jakes chest and pushed him back.

“You know, I figured you would be happier knowing that one of your teammates is looking after me and not some stranger I picked up at a bar. Unless you would rather that, then I can head there instead?” Bradley watched as the smirk that Jake always had was used against him by his little sister. Now he saw how the two of you were related. If the situation was different, he probably would’ve laughed. Instead, he bit back a smile and watched as his teammate fumbled for a response.

If he thought Jake’s change in attitude this afternoon was crazy, this took a while new level. The arrogant aviator was nowhere to be seen. In his place was someone who clearly cared for his sister but didn’t want to push her away. He thought about what he was going to say rather than spewing words that were designed to get under your skin. For once, Jake wasn’t in control of the situation, and it was eye opening watching him struggle to stay above water.

“I would be happier knowing you weren’t going out with any guy. I just want you to be safe.” Jake was gripping the doorframe with white knuckles, showing just how hard he was trying to keep his cool. But all that went out the door when you said what you did next.

“You come home talking about how great of a teammate Bradley is and how much you trust him to watch your back. Is that not someone you think I would be safe with?”

Bradley watched as your head tilted to the side some, feigning innocence even though you knew exactly what those words were going to do. Jake didn’t know if he wanted to yell at you or Bradley, so he threw up his hands instead.

“I never said that. Don’t go filling his head with lies when we both know it isn’t true.” He turned back to Bradley and pointed a finger at him. “You bring her back by 11 and not a second later. You hurt her and you will have much bigger problems than whether you are going to make the cut for this mission or not. I don’t care that you are a teammate, that’s my baby sister and she means more than your life does. Do I make myself clear?”

Bradley nodded his head and held out a hand for him to shake. Jake looked down at it and sighed, “God this is stupid.” But shook it anyway.

You gave Jake a quick kiss on the cheek and told him you will call if you need anything. But as you were leaving Jake asked, “Could I introduce you to Phoenix? She seems like a way better choice.”

You tossed your head back and laughed, making Jake smile reluctantly in return. “Don’t try and sneak in. I’ll be waiting up for you.” He gave you and wink and let the two of you walk off to the date that he never in a million years wanted to happen.

When the two of you were out of sight, Jake picked up his phone and dialed Javy. “Hey man. How do you feel about crashing a date?”

A/N: Thoughts? Likes or dislikes? Thank you so much for reading!  

#jake hangman x reader #jake hangman seresin x reader #hangman x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw x reader #rooster x reader #topgun maverick #top gun fanfiction #chelsea writes

[f1hallmarkfest]

Formula 1 Hallmark Fest

Hello one and all! We are delighted to announce the Formula 1 Hallmark Fest, aiming to bring winter cheer and cheesy festive feel-good holiday fic to the masses.

What is Hallmark?

Every year, The Hallmark Channel has their annual Countdown to Christmas celebration. As you can imagine from the title, the movies center around Christmas/winter holiday themes. Hallmark Christmas movies are some of the cheesiest, most nostalgia-evoking films you can imagine. Many of them center around small towns and discovering (or rediscovering) the spirit of Christmas, spending time with family and friends, and finding love in the holiday season!

Hallmark Christmas movies are absurd in the best way, making them perfect for fanfic plots.

How to Join

Sign up via our form

Join our fest Discord

Join the AO3 collection

The Rules

For writers- Minimum word count: 4000 words (and the sky's the limit)

For artists- Minimum art requirements: Lined and colored

Theme: Your work must align with the theme of the fest, that being cheesy heartwarming festive goodness!

Other than that, there are no limits on what you can create! A short, fluffy feel-good fic oozing with tender holiday love? A novel-length fic with an intricate plot and epic highs and lows? A painting of your favorite guys kissing under the mistletoe? A comic centered on holiday misadventures? Your call!

Key Dates:

Important Dates

TBD: Sign-ups close July 15th: Check-in 1 October 15th: Check-in 2 November 25th DECEMBER 14th: Collection submission December 1st 17th!!!: Fic reveals start

Important Links:

Admin: Dees @leclercenjoyer Mods: River @river-ocean, Tracy @apeacebone, Samuel @gearshxft Discord Server: https://discord.gg/GmXyBx3AVC AO3 Collection: https://archiveofourown.org/collections/F1_Hallmark_Fest Sign-up form: here Email: [email protected]

FAQ under the cut! 👇

1. Does it have to be AU? Not at all! F1 drivers' lives are already so god damn weird that it lends itself perfectly to the sort of over-the-top nonsense that makes a Hallmark movie truly special.

2. Does it have to be romantic? Absolutely not! Follow your heart <3

3. Does it have to be Christmas specifically? Nope! At their core, Hallmark movies are Christmas movies, but it's not essential. Any winter holiday, or even just winter in general, can fit the bill. (Or I guess summer, for the southern hemisphere?)

4. Can I do art for someone else's fic? Yes! Absolutely! We won't be pairing writers and artists (a la Big Bang) but you are more than welcome to find a writer to work with through our fest discord!

5. What happens if I have to drop out? Nothing! We understand that circumstances can change, and the deadline is long so unexpected situations may arise. If you sign up and find you can't participate, that's fine! Just drop the mods a line, no hard feelings.

6. Does my work have to be completed for me to submit it to the fest? Given the length of the deadline, we would ask that yes, your work should be finished before posting!

7. Do you accept late sign-ups? Sure!

8. Do I have to have an idea when I sign up? No! If the theme of the fest intrigues you but you can't think of what you want to write/draw right off the bat, you're still welcome to sign up! The discord server is the perfect place to workshop ideas with your fellow creatives, and we even have a random plot generator if you need a shot of inspiration.

9. Can I join the Discord server if I'm not participating in the fest? Yes, absolutely! If you just wanna come hang out, share in the vibes and the love and chat with folks, you are more than welcome to! And who knows, perhaps inspiration will strike you!

10. Why is the deadline so long? We decided to get started early to give people lots of time to work on their fics! This way, if people want to write proper longfic, there's plenty of time to get it done!

#f1 fic fest #f1 hallmark fest #f1 rpf

[elsewhereuniversity]

[you find this note slipped under the door of wherever these messages tend to end up. physically, it seems to be a collage of clippings from a cheaply-printed booklet, the original material possibly from the 1920s or 30s. said clippings are haphazardly glued down to sheets of ripped-out notebook paper, globs of purple gunk sitting wet and uncured around the edges. the message fills several pages and each has a small hole roughly gouged into the upper left-hand corner, the papers loosely tied together with what appears to be a young vine. beside the bundle lay a few scattered shards of some brittle, curved substance; the concave side a matte off-white, the convex a mottled and imperfect but nonetheless mesmerizing gold.]

Hello again, Archivist! I’ve got a finite number of words to deliver my request with, so I’ll try my best to make this brief (not something I’m very good at.) In short, I must return to you the name I received from this office last semester, preferably in exchange for a new one. ASAP.

Word’s gone around that there’s a considerable demand for second-hand safe names, so I hope somebody else will be able to put Lima Bean to good use.

(Yes, the name I was originally given came only with the first half of that, the latter just kind of… sprung up on its own, I guess? Which, now that I think about it, may have been where all this mess began. Dangit.)

But yeah, I really, really need to ditch this name. Oh, it’s not the name’s fault! Lima Bean is a perfectly serviceable name and would be found more than adequate by anybody who does not match a vague physical/affectual description of myself a person very much like me.

(Side note: for the sake of whoever receives it next, it’s probably best to avoid handing my old name over to anybody who’s nearsighted enough to need glasses, regularly wears a backwards baseball cap, and/or speaks with a Southern drawl. It’s nobody’s fault if those traits come about naturally once the student gets a bit more acquainted with Lima Bean - that’s just the nature of hand-me-downs. But by the time it would take for that to happen, this’ll all have blown over anyways I hope.)

(Side note to the side note: does student health insurance cover contact lenses?)

With what words I’ve still got, I might as well ask you to publish/pass on some advice to my fellow folklore majors (NOT those “practical application” lunatics that may call themselves “folklore,” the actual folklore majors who only apply their knowledge in a practical manner when absolutely necessary.)

Let’s say, hypothetically, that you’re down to the wire in regards to getting an ethnographic fieldwork assignment turned in before the deadline.

Let’s also say, still hypothetically, that you’re having a downright devil of a time finding anybody to interview for said fieldwork - flyers did nothing, cold-calling was both mortifying and ineffectual, your Google ad campaign garnered no clicks, and after the sixth entity you summoned with that scroll you dug out of the dumpster ‘round the back of the library left you stewing in easy-listening hold muzak for well over the time it takes any reasonable entity to use the bathroom, you ruled that route a dead end as well.

At this point, you’re getting pretty desperate; hypothetically, you may even be desperate enough to try blindly wandering around the forest.

Now, I ain’t saying that this is from experience, but my advice in this hypothetical situation is as follows: DON’T.

Turn yourself right back around and just talk it out with your professor, they’re far more understanding in reality than in the lies your anxiety concocts and they will almost certainly help you to figure something out. What you absolutely, certainly, 100%-ly DO NOT want to do is immediately wander off and eschew the safety of the hiking trails, getting yourself horribly, terribly, hopelessly lost.

DON’T keep walking until your feet pull you to a clearing of the trees.

DON’T approach the center of the clearing, where the gnarled green flesh of some monstrous verdure stretches from the earth to far beyond what sky your all-too-human (and all-too-nearsighted) eyes can perceive.

DON’T remember the stories your father used to tell you, stories of towering beanstalks and those who make their homes at the tops of them, of golden harps and golden geese, of fortunes sought and giants fought.

And DON’T, with your reckless naivety, get the bright idea that now is the perfect time to try out door-to-door cold knocking.

…

And if you DO, then for goodness’ sake try to abide by the bare minimum standards of courtesy-cognizant ethical decorum.

In this hypothetical situation, it’s safe to assume that the sweet old lady who answered the door of the oversized cottage was a Good Neighbor, (the house was magic and made of clouds and I you got there from the forest, I you have gone ahead and connected the dots,) but you really should be a respectful houseguest regardless of the interviewee’s speculated species.

For instance, it’s good practice to accept offers of breaking bread with humans as the sharing of a meal is both a great chance for participant observation and a delicious way to build rapport - circumstances are different when working with the Gentry, but you can still be cool about it and acknowledge that the offer is appreciated, refraining from inadvisable participation yet still accompanying them as they eat.

Another example of ethical conduct can be found at the very beginning of any interaction with a subject of documented research: consent forms and/or verbal agreements. This might look something like establishing boundaries around what information will be shared and whether or not recordings, if taken, will be publicly available - that is, if you’re conducting the interview of a more mundane subject.

If you’re conversing with, say, an elderly Fair Lady who’s three times your size and could easily crush your bones to make her bread with one arthritic hand tied behind her back, it may more closely resemble the locking-down of a Deal as you go about setting up your trusty microphone and laptop on her stratocumulus coffee table.

(That prime flat surface real estate had, moments before your arrival, been occupied by one of the Lady’s many, many pet geese, the bird’s softly shimmering feathers indistinguishable from the puffy wisps of cloud were it not for the fine gold doily separating the two.)

(Post-eviction, you could also tell them apart by the affronted honks and wing-flapping of indignation, both behaviors that are rather uncharacteristic of clouds.)

One last difference that’s very important to keep in mind for your fieldwork is the type of equipment you’ll be using.

Both pen & paper and digital tools each have their own unique merits when dealing with humans, but obviously you want to avoid electronic devices when interviewing the Fair Folk due to the almost always unstable and very often volatile consequences of their interactions with technology.

Yes, it would be no good at all if, hypothetically, in the process of checking your recording set-up, you absent-mindedly handed a sweet old Lady the equivalent of a live grenade in a small room occupied by herself, yourself, and a dozen or so of her beloved pet geese.

It would be slightly less bad if, hypothetically, that bomb of metal and magic and electricity happened to go off in an extremely humid environment, such as a cloud, where the water molecules in the air and coating the surface of every creature helped to disperse the dangerous discharge, saving everything and everyone from serious damage (apart from your microphone.)

But it would still be significantly worse than okay if, hypothetically, a dozen or so perfectly healthy geese were still reeling from the moderately nasty shock.

And if those geese, as geese often do, got pissed off.

And if those geese, as geese only do on occasion, made an fairly logical guess at the source of their adverse fortunes.

And if those geese, as geese always do, chose violence…

Well, it’d be pretty damn bad.

…

I well and truly running out of words now, so I’ll quit beating around the bush; as you have have guessed, my interview with the elderly Lady did not end very well.

I feel terrible for saying it, but I’m relieved it was her and not me who drew the collective ire of the flock - the fowl beasts were supersized just like her, and believe me when I say that being pursued by one teenager-sized toothed-tongue terror is enough mortal peril for anybody.

Remember that one goose I had kicked off the coffee table? (Not literally, I was gentle as could be when handling her and she still found my actions as deserving of the utmost contempt.) Well, she was still so vexed with me that when my microphone blew up, she refused to consider any explanation of her pain where the blame rested on any shoulders but my own and reacted accordingly.

I was still recovering from both the explosion and bearing witness to the biblically-accurate mass of flailing feathers and gnashing beaks that then towered before me, but if nothing else, a goose on your tail is an excellent source of motivation.

Somehow, my laptop found its way back to me (shockingly, pardon the pun, none the worse for wear,) and the goose and I tore our way through the cottage and out the doggy-door.

(goosy-door?)

(gander-gateway.)

The finer details of how I made it back down to terra firma are lost to me, but I’d wager the multitude of bruises across my entire body have something to do with it.

(Does the student health insurance cover that as well? How about goose bites?)

(…do we even have student health insurance?)

Regardless of the methodology, when I came to I found myself in the forest once more, a few paces off to the side of a major trail. Back in (relatively) familiar territory, albeit with a (relatively) unfamiliar goose venting out the last of her excess anger through the healthy outlet of creative expression - her fangs served as her brushes, my poor shin her canvas.

Really, once she chills out and knows the taste of your flesh, she’s sweet as anything. I’ve taken to calling her Audrey III; as of yet, no complaints have been made.

(Oh yeah, I may or may not have lowered a suspiciously metallic ovoid object down through the mail slot - I didn’t hear a crack so if it hasn’t rolled off, I’d love to know your judgement on whether or not the resultant omelet is mundane enough to eat.)

I suppose she’ll be staying with me for a while, seeing as I’ve got no way of reliably navigating back to the beanstalk, if it’s even still there.

I feel terrible about what happened up there, even worse about what might happen to me (or any other Lima Bean) if things aren’t set right - I’ll not commit any admission of debt to words, but please do let me know, Archivist, if there’s any chance the Edible Arrangements deliveryperson would be able to find her.

…

So, looping back to the start of this letter, I hope you’ve got a student who’ll find some use for Lima Bean and pray that you’ll be able to find me a replacement safe name soon.

Don’t worry, I’m not completely nameless - I’ve got a spare for emergencies like this, a well-worn hand-me-down from my dad. He wasn’t even the first to use it, I know it was Grandmomma’s at one point too.

That’s why I’m hesitant to wear it for too long: it’s only natural for hand-me-downs to press on you somewhat with the weight of their accumulated legacies, and I haven’t got a clue as to how many lifetimes this one has endured for. But it’s all I’ve got, I suppose, so I might as well use it.

I’ll leave you to your work, Archivist - may your day be pleasant and your night be peaceful.

Patiently (hopefully) awaiting your response,

- Jack, a Folklore Major

x

note from the Archivist - Well, on the off-chance it’s not too late entirely, take the name Balderdash, and perhaps also, going forward, your own advice.

#submission #stories #jack #anatidaedalus #long post #lima #this was so funny #the line about cold knocking caught me so off guard i laughed out loud

[thinkingisadangerouspastime]

Oh my! A Kataang shipper (I’m assuming based on the few posts of yours I’ve read) who doesn’t hate on Zuko or Zuko/Katara to raise up their own ship!? Not possible! Seriously though, I’m very glad to find your blog, it’s a very refreshing change of pace. People can ship what they want to but some in this fandom (most, and it’s very concerning) love to go feral for their own ships and destroy anyone who doesn’t agree. And why does most of that have to involve crapping on the twelve-year-old pacifist who survived a genocide!?

I never really watched ATLA much when I was younger but I’m watching it properly from start to finish now and I’m trying to enjoy it, but I keep finding horrendous takes on tumblr that bring me down. I finished the Southern Raiders episode earlier and wanted to come talk about it with fellow fans here, but I think I’ll just stick to enjoying the show by myself because the way so many people are using this episode to prove how bad Aang is makes me uncomfortable. Everyone using TSR to boost Zuko and Katara are missing the point. This isn’t a Zuko and Katara episode, this episode is a Katara episode. Aang isn’t the villain here getting in the way of what’s right. He was raised by monks.

The best way I can think to illustrate this point is (and please bear with me because I’m not sure I’m going to articulate this right) someone afraid of snow. Imagine your whole life you’ve been raised to avoid snow. There’s nothing wrong with snow by itself, but you’re repeatedly told to avoid it and that it’s bad and harmful so you grow up fearing snow. Now one day one of your closest friends wants to go play in the snow and your first instinct is to firmly warn them away from it because that’s what you’ve been told growing up. They’re really insistent on playing in the snow and you realise you can’t stop them and it’s not really your place to so you just try to advise them against anything too crazy. As if that wasn’t bad enough, one of your other friends is actively encouraging playing in the snow and mocking you for your fear of it. That’s how I see the Katara-Zuko-Aang interactions of this episode. Aang is the person raised to fear snow (in this case, violence and killing), Katara is the one who wants to play in the snow (in this case, getting justice for her mother) and Zuko is encouraging it. When Aang confronts her, he’s not upset at what she’s doing, he’s upset because she was going to steal Appa from him and not tell anyone where she was going, which I think is pretty fair given that they’ve already lost Appa once and Aang wasn’t there to stop it.

Sorry, I didn’t mean for this to get so long or out-of-hand. I just got excited to talk to someone with common sense in this fandom and started rambling!

hello friend!! im honored you find my blog to be an island of tranquility amidst the turbulent ocean of the atla fandom 💛

i completely understand your desire to restrict your enjoyment of atla to yourself and your close circle, as there are indeed far too many people on tumblr who take "fandom" to the farthest extremes of harassment and abuse, issues the atla fandom are (unfortunately) particularly rife with. so many anti-aang people love to be loud, proud, and violent about their lack of media literacy... 💀

im also glad you enjoy my posts about tsr!! i fully agree, tsr is a katara episode, and to in any way decenter her perspectives and experiences is to fundamentally misunderstand the ep. (people who interpret tsr as a ship episode, or worse, as an episode in which aang is a villain, are either willingly ignorant or have been deeply failed by the educational system. critical thinking is a tool!! we must exercise it to keep it sharp!!)

i also think your analogy of snow is apt to describe the triangulation of tsr! i might revise it slightly to suggest that aang is not necessarily "afraid" of snow (violence/murder) but more so that he has been raised to be wary of the detrimental consequences that violence, and especially murder, can have on both those who impart and those who witness this bloodshed. i fully agree, tho, that aang is by no means upset at katara for wanting to pursue her vengeance -- he's simply reminding her that she has a choice (after all, allowing her to take appa on this journey represents the ultimate trust aang has in katara's decisions, whether she chose violence or no, bc you're so right that aang is sending appa off with her not so long after appa's devastating disappearance!! that's how much he faith he has in katara to make the decision that is right for her!!)

no need to apologize for rambling in my inbox 💛 tsr is one of my favorite eps in the series, i love getting to talk about it!

#hence why i wrote 20k all about katara's grief and rage leading up to and through tsr 💛 love her sm #amy answers #awkwarddaydreamingpotato

[whenmondaycomes]

Aerin had just got out of overseeing an afterschool activity, because the original teacher in charge was sick, and was now on her way to meet Sy at the bar. The moment that she got to the bar and walked through the door, she was already feeling very nervous. Being born to Islamic grandparents and parents, September 11th hit her from both sides. She was painted as an enemy because it was her family's people responsible. There was also the other side as well though. She came to America at a young age and is an American legally and at heart, so the attacks affected her too. It hurt when people looked at her like she was dangerous. Her dating an Army Captain also caused some heads to turn. She saw Syverson sitting at a table with some of his military friends. She decided to head towards him first, before going to get a drink. As she was walking over, she felt people staring at her. She tried to keep her focus on her boyfriend and ignored everyone else. She could tell the moment that Sy saw her, because his smile grew into one of excitement. When she arrived at the table, Sy was already out of his seat and pulling her chair out for her. She thanked him after sitting down, and said hello to the other people at the table. Mostly everyone said hello back, at least the ones that have known her for awhile, while the others tried to avoid eye contact. That upset her a little bit, but she didn't want to cause conflict so she kept her mouth shut. Sy sat back down and put his arm around her, after giving her a kiss on the cheek. The group chatted about life for a little while, before Aerin had to go to the bathroom. After she was done in the bathroom, she decided to go and finally get herself a drink. "Hi. Can I have a 'sex on the beach' please?", Aerin asked the bartender. "Oh, and five beers for my boyfriend and his friends too", she added. The bartender gave her a nod and went to make the drinks. She had her back to the bar, and looking at her boyfriend, when she heard some women gossiping. She wasn't paying much mind to them, until they said something that peaked her interest. "Hey, did you notice that sexy army guy over there?", one asked. "Which one? They're all pretty good looking if you ask me", another one said. "The tall one", the first one replied. "Oh that one. I don't know, seems like he's already taken", said the third girl in the group. "Not for long. I mean honestly, who would want to be with a terrorist like that. Isn't he supposed to be fighting for his fellow Americans? Like, he needs an all American girl if you ask me. I know that I can be that for him. He doesn't want to be with that ugly monster anyways. It'll be easy to make him mine", the first girl proudly declared. Aerin felt herself on the verge of tears when she heard that familiar southern drawl behind her. "I don't think that I would ever want anythin' to do with any of you women. You are disgusting human beings for sayin' things like that. You are a disgrace to this world. Never talk about this beautiful, precious, smart, and kind woman like that ever again. Do you understand me?", Sy said angrily. All three of the girls meekly nodded, probably more out of embarrassment, and fear, than actual shame. "Now get your intolerant butts out of my sight," he growled out. With that the girls left the bar and Aerin and Sy enjoyed the rest of their time out at the bar. When they got home, Sy gave Aerin a back massage. They then spent the rest of the night cuddling.

#syverson x ofc #syverson fanfiction #captain syverson

[yuueee]

 ★ 𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐧𝐚 - relationship headcanons

song: pnb rock: selfish - slowed

word count: 1351

requested?: yes

★ - 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐢𝐦𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬

↬ - so first off, Desna does not have the exact same personality as his twin sister Eska. while they do share many similarities in their personalities (they’re both introverts obvi), I don’t think he would just “claim” someone the way that she did - he would have to get to know you first. he gives me vibes of getting into a close friends to lovers type deal. having said that you’d most likely meet him by working with or near him in some way? like you may have some form of a job working in the northern water tribe or are the daughter of someone who works with Unalaq. at first, you might think that he’s kinda mean or rude because he seems a bit cold or deadpan, but you eventually realize it’s not intentional. he doesn’t dislike you, it just takes him a while to warm up to someone. you eventually go from not speaking at all to curt nods or simple hello’s - still not much but hey we’re getting somewhere right?

★ - 𝐛𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬

↬ - knowing each other for some time, you notice that you two have slowly gotten closer. it’s nothing too serious, but sometimes after a day of work he might ask if you wanted to get dinner together since you both haven’t eaten in a while. another example is if he has some free time on his hands, he’ll spend it chatting it up with you over common interests. he enjoyed being in your presence so he made it a point to be around you as often as possible. I take it that he might be a bit dense in terms of his emotional feelings so he might not realize this constant longing to be around you is a crush.

★ - 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐟𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧

↬ - after a while, he comes to the realization that this yearning to reach and grab your hand or envelope you in a hug isn’t platonic. the problem is, he doesn’t know how to approach you with this information. as I stated before he is not Eska, he will not run up and grab you to confess his feelings. however, he doesn’t have anyone else to turn to for help besides his twin sister and his mother Malina (he had way too much pride to go to her about it), and settles for the first option. being her usual sassy self, Eska simply tells her brother to give you a betrothal necklace like she did with Bolin, to which he ignores her advice. he figures that he’ll just have to find some way to tell you on his own. he knew this wouldn’t be easy for himself, but he couldn’t just continue to live with these feelings without at least letting you know - even in the unfortunate case that you didn’t return them. 

the next time the both of you shared a meal held an awkwardness that you hadn’t felt since the two of you first met. Desna was often quiet, one of the things that attracted you to him - he was always attentive and listening, unlike others who would just talk over you at times. sensing that something may have been wrong, you decided to speak up. 

“Desna did I do something wrong” you asked, tilting your head in concern. you had never known him to be this silent, especially when he had that trip to the southern water tribe with his father and Eska coming up - he normally would have gone on a rant by now. 

“why would you think that?” he questioned, raising a eyebrow. you let a small sigh pass through your lips in irritation. 

“you haven’t spoken for the past hour.”

“and?”

“you were just being more quiet than usual.” you responded, sounding slightly defeated. “I just wanted to make sure you were okay. I guess I’ll leave you alone for the evening, I don’t want to be a bother.”

he felt a pang in his heart at the tone of your voice, the last thing he wanted to do was to hurt or upset you. 

“I’m sorry.”

“what are you talking about Desna?” you retorted back, still a bit agitated from his attitude towards you a few moments ago.

“I was being more reserved than normal because I was trying to figure out how to confess my feelings for you.”

“Wha-?” you sputtered incredulously, unsure of what to do with his sudden declaration. it had been no secret to your fellow peers of your attraction to him from the day you met him. you hadn’t ever dreamed that he would even consider returning your love so it had never crossed your mind to actually confess. 

“I understand if you don’t accept my fee-mmph!” the bone crushing hug you encased him in didn’t allow him to complete his sentence.

“I accept. I like you too.” you answered softly, feeling your heart grow warm as he gently wrapped his arms around your lower back - resting his head on your shoulder. 

★ - 𝐜𝐮𝐝𝐝𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠

↬ it’s probably no secret that Desna wouldn’t be the most affectionate one in a relationship, especially near the beginning or start of it. your relationship actually hadn’t changed in many ways after your mutual confession, other than him being a bit more possessive than usual. and not possessive in the gross toxic way either. he craved being in your presence more than anyone else he had encountered, you gave him a sort of peace away from the day to day madness that was being one of the chiefs of the northern tribe. 

when you accompanied his family on their trip to the south, you began to notice some things. while in public he would simply stand or sit near you - in complete privacy it was another story. (you cannot tell me that this man is not touch starved.) he seemed to always be touching you in some way or another. whether it was linking your pinkies or him resting his head in your lap so you could run your hands through his hair. you were the only person he allowed himself to be vulnerable with. 

also, just because he isn’t touchy with you in public doesn’t mean that he’s embarrassed to be with you or something of that nature. he would just rather treasure those moments alone with you.  

★ - 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐬

↬ other than almost murdering Bolin with ice spikes for attempting to have a conversation with you, you could say that your time at the glacier spirits festival was quite fun. you may have even seen Desna crack the smallest of smiles once or twice, which wasn’t often at all. it didn’t mean he wasn’t happy with you though - he just shows his happiness in other ways like that weird laugh. watching his twin sister drag around the poor earthbender was also pretty funny to the both of you. 

after the festival had closed for the evening and everyone returned back to their respective places to sleep for the evening - the two of you decided to spend some time alone and stargaze. as cheesy as it sounded, the night sky filled to the brim with stars was possibly one of the most beautiful things you had ever seen in your life. nuzzling your head further atop his shoulder, you let your somewhat sleepy eyes rake across the vast expanse of darkness 

“it looks so beautiful” you whispered quietly, in attempt not to wake anyone else up even though you two were sitting atop a hill a good 30 feet away from where everyone else had gone to sleep. 

sitting up some and gazing upon your features whilst ignoring the slight burning sensation in his cheeks (that was totally just from the cold weather), he responded. 

“not as beautiful as you.” as soon as you turnt your head towards your boyfriend in confusion (saying cheesy things was your job, not his) - you were met with a warm pair of lips for a brief moment. before you could even register what had occured, he pulled away and rested his head atop your own.

Desna was undoubtably a strange man, but you loved him regardless. 

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: @practicallylivesonline

#legend of korra x reader #legend of korra imagine #legend of korra x you #lok imagine #lok x you #legend of korra x y/n #lok x y/n #lok x reader #desna #desna x reader #desna imagine #desna x you #desna x y/n

[jasmine-tea-latte]

(Some of) My Favorite Zutara fics

Warning, looong post ahead!

Zutara Fanworks Appreciation Week snuck up on me, so sadly I haven’t had time to properly contribute anything. I’d love to participate next year or maybe even before then (I play by my own rules, folks!)

Still, though. I wanted to at the very least pay tribute to some of my all-time favorite Zutara fanfics that I’ve enjoyed and have inspired me over the years.

(Click here for my post on Self-Love Saturday, where I shamelessly promote my series The Phoenix and the Dragon and share a bit of backstory behind how it came to be in the first place.)

I’ve shipped Zutara ever since Fall 2006, and I have been fortunate to read so many excellent fanfics since then.

Some have made me laugh, others made me sob, others straight up made my heart burn like it was shot full of lightning:

So in honor of @zkfanworkweek​, below are 13 of my favorite Zutara fanfics, in no particular order:

~*~*~

Rated G(eneral)/T(een)

Engulfed by Luaburachid

Zuko finds himself engulfed by love.

A sweet one-shot of our favorite firebender discovering how deep his feelings are for a certain waterbender. It’s just pure fluff and always brings a smile to my face.

 we hold our hearts in silence by psychedelic_aya

Seventy years later, Korra tries to figure out Zuko and Katara.

Oh, this one is so bittersweet but oh so good. It alternates between flashbacks and Korra’s POV watching an older Zuko and Katara interact. Just… ugh. My heart.

 Day 6: Found by SooperSara

When Sokka comes up with an idea to get rid of Joo Dee, Katara finds herself in the Lower Ring of Ba Sing Se with a tea server she did not expect to meet.

I love a good Jasmine Dragon AU where Katara / the Gaang actually interacts with Zuko while he’s undercover as Lee from the tea shop instead of what happened in “The Guru.” This is so much fun to read, and my only complaint is that it’s not longer.

 Celestial by SooperSara

An unexpected dip into the koi pond at the North Pole brings Zuko in contact with the spirits and grants him insight to his destiny. A destiny he isn’t sure he wants.

Another by the talented SooperSara! Actually, you should check out all of her stuff. It’s all so good, and I absolutely adore this one. It’s pretty canon-compliant and the ending… oh, the ending makes me tearbend. Ma’am, I’m still weepy.

 this little fuse we lit made something in you by SecondStarOnTheLeft

There's a secret door in the wall of Katara's room. Things go a little further than planned, once she opens it.

What happens when Katara discovers a secret tunnel (secret, secret, secret tunnel, yeah!) that leads directly to the Fire Lord’s bedroom? Reading this fic is like settling down to drink a hot cup of Iroh’s tea – it’s soothing, sweet, and thoroughly warms the soul.  

 Dancing in the Dark by damagectrl

Post-Season 2 AU: While in Ba Sing Se, Katara and Toph hear a rumor about two tea servers in the lower tiers of Ba Sing Se and sneak away go to investigate only to have their suspicions confirmed. On her personal time, Katara tries to teach herself to dance and fails so badly, a masked man takes pity on her to try to help.

This is one most OGs will probably remember. It’s also one of the first ZK fics I ever read, back when I was a wee lil bb Zutarian! It was originally posted in Oct. 2006 and takes place between “Appa’s Lost Days” and “Lake Laogai.” One of my all-time favorite Bluetara AND Jasmine Dragon AUs. Heck, all of damagectrl’s works are fantastic reads, for that matter. I highly recommend checking them out, especially this classic.

 such selfish prayers by andromeda3116

Katara's ambition, so long set aside for the good of others, breaks free and sets fire to her soul. Or, Katara has a vision of her canon future, casts it aside, and becomes a world-changing politician instead.

There’s a reason why this fic is one of the highest rated on AO3, if not THE highest. It does right by Katara and gives her the ending she deserves. 10/10 would recommend.

 better than things dreamed of in the forest by catie_writes_things (SERIES)

As a child, Bumi knew: his mother was a waterbender, his father was an airbender, and he was a firebender. Something about these facts did not add up, but it would take him a long time to understand.

Hands down, one of the most heartbreaking fics / series I’ve ever read. The author describes this as the adultery fic for people who hate adultery fics, and it certainly packs an emotional punch in the gut. Personally, I’m not one for the “Zuko and Katara have an affair while she’s with Aang” fics in general, but this one examines the fallout caused by a single night of passion and all of the consequences that stem from it, especially how the ripple effect of their choices impacts everyone. Even though it breaks my heart all over again every time I reread it, I can’t recommend it highly enough. 

  ~*~*~

(More fics, several with high ratings, are listed below the cut)

Rated M(ature)/E(xplicit)

Moonlight and Sunshadow by GrapefruitTwostep

The dragon offered Katara a deal: protection for her family and tribe if she lived with it for a year and a day. And she said yes. Because what other way was there to save her people? But there was more to the dragon than Katara bargained for. An "East of the Sun, West of the Moon" retelling.

A fairy tale AU in which Zuko is cursed to live as a dragon and Katara is certainly no damsel in distress. You’ve probably heard some version of the original fairy tale before that this fic is inspired by, and it’s such a delight to read.

 The Blackfish and the Dragon by ama

Katara grew up in the Southern Water Tribe under the tutelage of Hama, the only waterbender ever to have escaped Fire Nation captivity. When Zuko arrives at the South Pole, seeking the Avatar, they are more than ready to defend him. Then one day, the Southern Water Tribe receives a petition for peace, and a proposal of marriage.

One of the best arranged marriage AUs I’ve come across. Iroh is crowned Fire Lord after defeating Ozai, and Katara must find some way to peacefully coexist with her hotheaded new husband as she also finds a place for herself in the Fire Nation.

 Confused by thispieceofwork

Zuko stood. "You told Aang you were confused. Are you confused because of me?" Katara was silent, arms crossed in front of her. "Don't make me answer that."

Starts during “The Ember Island Players” where Zuko overhears Aang and Katara’s private conversation on the balcony. This is another fic that will shatter your heart into a million pieces but it’s oh so worth it in the end.

 A Heated Exchange by Smediterranea (SERIES)

Katara had not considered herself to be someone who would have earth-shattering sex with a guy whose name she didn’t even know. But here she was, certain that she had never made a better decision in her life.

An AU two-part series of Katara getting familiar with a certain handsome guy who lives down the hall in her college dorm. It’s funny, cute, and cuddling while watching Planet Earth has never been hotter.

 Bonus day: Tea Shop by cincilin

"Hello and welcome to the Jasmine Dragon. Today's special is—" he cut himself of with a sharp intake of breath, at the same moment that Katara placed the voice and looked up.

'He has hair.' was her first thought. Then the rest of her brain caught up with her and she started to get up, sending Momo scrambling to hide under the table. Season 2 AU, during "The Guru."

I told y’all, I *LOVE* a good Jasmine Dragon AU fic, and this one-shot checks all the boxes: heart-to-heart conversations? Witty dialogue and banter? Bending match that turns into a makeout and something steamier? It’s got it all.

~*~*~

This was only going to be a list of maybe 5-7fic recs, but well… oops. I also kept the above list to completed works only, just because this post is already long enough.

Several of my other favorites that get honorable mention include:

Thinking Out Loud (WIP)

The Summit (WIP)

Sparrowkeet (Series)

Purr

The Nature of the Blue Spirit

Rhythm of the Rain

Fault Lines

Clarity

Seriously, there are just SO MANY good Zutara fics out there. I had to cut myself off from adding even more, because I could go on and on and on. Much like Admiral Zhao, I have no. self. control. 

I love you all, my fellow Zutarians ❤️💙💜 Mwah! Happy ZFAW! 

#Zutara Fanworks Appreciation Week #zkfanworkweek #zutara #zuko x katara #zuko #katara #zfaw2020 #also i apologize if the formatting is being weird on mobile #it looks fine on desktop but that's tumblr for ya

[zipstick-writes]

Inktober 2020 Day 16 - Rocket

The crew of the brand-new Galactic Navy ship named the Skeld had just departed for a newly-discovered planet, Polus, that Earth scientists had determined would be able to support human life with minimal terraforming. Their mission was to join the established research centre and finish the job.

But for now, the crew, consisting of newly-trained Navy recruits Princey, Dad, Hot Topic, Logan, Trash Man, and Janusss, had to complete the in-flight maintenance to keep the ship in as perfect a condition as was possible while on board, as was made standard by the inter-planetary signing of the 3128-AD Quality Control Act.

Normally, this would be a relatively uncomplicated process. However, the crews of many other ships that had departed from the same Space-Dock had reported impostors murdering crewmates and interfering with vital functions of the ship, often resulting in total system faliures.

And thus, the crew of the Skeld were constantly on the lookout for any suspicious activity from their fellow Astronauts. This is their story.

-

 Day 1

 -

The six climbed down the ladder from the bunk-room above the cafeteria and checked the screen on the southern-facing wall to see which faults had been detected by the ship’s systems overnight. One by one they walked up and touched their tablets to the info-port on the side of the screen, logging their tasks to them.

“Looks like I’ve got to submit my bio-scan.” Logan said, reading from his tablet screen. “Would one of you please accompany me so that they can verify my innocence, should anything happen?”

“That’s quite suspicious of you, isn’t it, Logan?” Trash Man giggled. “Sounds just like what the impostor would say.”

Princey shook his head. “How do we know it’s not you, brother? Accusing another right off the bat like that-“

“Alright kiddos, that’s quite enough fighting.” Dad cut in, glancing at his tablet.

“I’m older than you, remember?” Princey interrupted again.

“Princey, will you shut up?” Sighed Hot Topic exasperatedly.

“I’ve got to scan myself in the Med Bay too,” Dad said through the mounting chaos. “I’ll come with ya, Lo.”

“Thank you. This will be adequate.”

-

Having downloaded the blaster records from the weapons room, Hot Topic was on his way to Administration to upload them to the International Space Agency database. He was at the door when he heard footsteps behind him in the cargo Storage. He turned around, seeing Trash Man standing in the door frame of the hallway.

“Hello, Hot Topic!” He greeted. Overly cheerful for there being a potential murderer on board, Hot Topic noted suspiciously.

“Trash man. Hi.” He responded, measuring his tone carefully so that his suspicion wasn’t noticeable. Hopefully. “What are you doing here?”

“Oh, I just came to swipe my card. How about you? What are you up to?”

“I’m uploading the data from our weapons systems to HQ.” He said, narrowing his eyes at Trash Man behind his helmet. Despite not being able to see past his helmet, Trash Man seemed to catch onto Hot Topic’s suspicion and stopped talking, moving on to attempting to swipe his Crewmate ID card.

“Ugh, why is this damn thing so goddamn difficult?” He mumbled, swiping his card furiously back and forth in the machine.

“Trash Man! Stop, you’re gonna damage the reader.”

Trash man stopped swiping and looked up at Hot Topic.

“It’s really not that difficult,” Hot Topic said, and having completed the upload was now walking over to where Trash Man was holding his card defeatedly. “Here, give me that card. I’ll do mine, then I’ll do yours for you. Okay?”

“Thanks, Topicy!” Trash Man responded.

“And don’t call me Topicy.” He said. Hot Topic swiped his own card, pleased when the light blinked green the first time. He then swiped, or rather attempted to swipe, Trash Man’s card, but was surprised when the red light blinked and the machine buzzed.

“A bad swipe? That’s weird.”

He was about to try again, when the warning lights began flashing and the alarm beeped loudly and repeatedly. The automated computer-voice repeated the phrase, Oxygen Filter Damaged, followed by a countdown of 30 seconds.

Hot Topic jumped, haphazardly throwing the card back at Trash Man and seeing him move from where he was leaning casually against the wall.

He rushed towards the oxygen room, hands shaking slightly as he inputted the code. Janusss and Dad were standing behind him, having entered O2 after him.

He breathed a sigh of relief. “That was close.”

“It sure was, Kiddo,” Dad remarked, “I wonder what could’ve caused that?”

“The Impostor, of course. Why else would the system fail?” Janusss said sarcastically.

“Oh of course, I’m so sorry for being so ignorant, Lord Janusss.” Hot topic snarked back, bowing over-dramatically. He (figuratively) straightened up, and said, more seriously this time, “I’m heading over to the Cafeteria. Trash Man’s acting off. And his card wouldn’t read in Admin.”

“Trash Man’s always acting off.” Dad replied. He paused to think for a moment, “But I suppose it’s better safe than sorry. I’ll come with you.”

-

EMERGENCY MEETING

-

The three remaining crewmates arrived at the Cafeteria and seated themselves around the central table.

“What happened?” Princey asked.

“There’s something off about Trash Man.” Hot Topic explained. “He followed me into Admin saying he was there to swipe his card, but the reader wouldn’t take it. Not even when I did it for him. And the O2 sabotage happened while my back was turned. He could’ve done it.”

“Was there any noticeable change of behaviour that indicated he was being imitated?” Logan asked.

“Well no,” Hot Topic replied, “But I can’t help but feel like the sabotage was a distraction to draw people away if he was about to.. y’know, kill me.”

“I’m sure that’s just your anxiety clouding your judgement. I realise my brother can be a bit… How do I put this? Bizarre, but that’s no reason to accuse him of sabotage.”

“I’m with Princey.” Logan said, and Hot Topic was sure he could hear him say ‘for once’ under his breath. “We understand your concern, but it’s simply not enough evidence to eject him.”

“Skip?” Dad asked.

“Skip.” Princey and Janusss responded in sync.

-

No one was ejected. (Skipped)

1 Impostor Remains

-

The nighttime alarm sounded, indicating the end of the work day, and the crewmates returned to their bunks and settled down to sleep.

-

 Day 2

 -

The crewmates once again descended the ladder and downloaded their daily tasks, this time in silence. There was no conversation as the six walked in different directions towards their daily tasks.

Logan and Princey set off towards storage to refuel the engines, and Dad went with Hot Topic towards navigation to set a course. Trash Man went off towards electrical maintenance to repair corrosion to the wires.

Janusss made his way over to the reactor.

Once inside, he opened a wiring panel to the reactor’s left. He took out a pocket knife and snapped a couple of wires.

Just enough to cause some trouble, he thought. Checking there was no one around, and glancing at the nearby camera to make sure it was inactive, and opened the hatch leading to the ventilation system. He quietly climbed inside, shutting the hatch behind him.

-

He lifted up the vent and poked his head out, checking he was alone.

Coast’s clear.

He climbed out silently, right as Trash Man rounded the corner. He was about to climb back in, but it was too late. He’d been seen.

Trash Man made to turn around, but Janusss was faster. He lunged, pulling out his knife, and stabbed him in the back.

“One down, four to go.” He hissed.

He was about to return to the vent when it occurred to him. He could get away with this easily.

Janusss opened the panel for the lights and flicked the switches up, disabling the lights on the whole ship. Satisfied, he then went back in the vents and crawled swiftly to the reactor. He poked his head out. Nobody was there. He set off back to electrical, and after a few moments Logan was beside him, having come from the upper engine.

The others were crowded around the panel, and as soon as a light switch was flicked into place it was switched back again.

I could get another one here.

He pulled out his gun, and fired at random. Logan dropped to the floor, and before the others could react, he hid the pistol in his pocket again.

The others abruptly abandoned the lights and looked around frantically. Janus did the same.

Dad was the first to realise who’d been hit.

“Logan.” He cried. “They got Logan!”

Janusss feigned a look of shock before realising that he was wearing a helmet that rendered his face unreadable. Princey stepped back, turning towards where Janusss had killed Trash Man.

“Look.” He said. “Trash Man’s dead too.” He knelt down beside his brother. “I swear on my beautifully manicured sword I will have revenge-“

He was cut off by Dad, who told him they were going to the Cafeteria to have a discussion.

-

“Who did it?” Hot Topic asked.

“It wasn’t me,” Dad said. “I was clearing asteroids with Princey. He can vouch for me.” It’s true.”

“It’s true.” Princey said. “We were together the whole time.”

“Well, me and Logan were in the top engine before the lights cut.” Janusss explained. It was a half-truth; as he’d always say, the best lies contain half the truth. “I was refuelling it and Logan was realigning it.” He could almost hear Logan (and probably Trash Man as well) screaming at him from beyond the grave. But he knew the others bought it. They had seen him and Logan enter together, after all, and they nodded along to the deception.

A sudden voice jolted Janusss out of his thoughts. “What about you, kiddo?” Dad asked, and it was directed at Hot Topic. “You’re the only one who’s not spoken yet.”

Hot Topic was hunched over, seeming nervous despite the space suit hiding his face. “I was in the Med Bay, inspecting the samples.”

I can get one more, Janusss thought. I just need to twist this a bit.

“It may just be me thinking this,” He began, “But it does seem a little suspicious that you’re the only one of us without an alibi.”

Princey and Dad nodded in agreement. “Although I hate to admit it, Janusss is right. You’ve got no-one to verify what you were doing.” Princey said. “Sorry, Emo.” He added.

Hot Topic sighed. “Fine. Eject me. But one of you is lying, I just know it.”

Princey and Janusss held Hot Topic’s arms behind his back as they led him to the airlock, and he didn’t struggle. Dad pulled down the lever to open the door, and Janusss smiled to himself behind his visor.

-

Hot Topic was not The Impostor.

1 Impostor Remains.

-

 Day 3

 -

There was no conversation as the final 3 remaining loaded their tasks onto their tablets. They each went in a separate direction. Dad towards communications, Princey to the Med Bay, and Janusss into storage.

Dad was scared. There were only him and two others left. One of them was the impostor, and they’d only know for sure if they were caught. If they didn’t, they’d all end up dead.

Dad’s hands were shaking as he frantically tried to fix the wiring of the computer.

He heard footsteps behind him.

He turned.

Janusss was standing in the doorway.

Dad froze.

This is it.

Janusss walked towards him, and time seemed to slow.

A gunshot sounded throughout the ship. Everything went black.

-

DEFEAT

-

“Dammit!” Roman slammed his fists on the table. “How are you so good at this?” He asked, glaring at Janus. “This is the third game in a row you’ve won!”

“What can I say?” He said, smirking. “Deceit’s my thing. This game was made for me.”

Patton rolled his eyes, smilling good-naturedly. “Alright, settle down. Who’s up for a rematch?”

“Oh, you’re,” Logan said, pausing to hold up a vocab card, “’On’.”

“If Jan gets impostor again he’s gonna win!” Roman shouted.

“I’m just better than you.” Janus snarked. “You’ll just have to deal with it.”

Virgil smirked. “I can’t wait till I get impostor. Oh, I am so gonna get my revenge.”

“Hey, revenge is my thing!” Remus shouted. “Who knows, maybe I’ll get it first.” He said quietly, smiling maliciously at Janus.

Virgil started another round. “Let’s do this.”

#fanfiction #my fics #sanders sides #sanders sides fanfiction #inktober #inktober 2020 #virgil sanders #patton sanders #roman sanders #logan sanders #janus sanders #remus sanders #among us #among us au

[raguna-blade]

Radio B and B: Episode 1

@flashfictionfridayofficial​ congrats on your 100th Prompt.

Hello hello dear listeners to the space betwixt sleep and death, between dreams and reality.

This is Radio B and B, coming to you live.

It's been too long hasn't it? Or not long enough if you were to believe some of our call in members. Tonight, here at the edge of creation and before the black of time we have quite the show for you.

Ah but who am I? For some of you this is our first meeting and it would be all too rude to not introduce myself.

For the space of this program, you may call me The Host, and if you would I would greatly appreciate it.

Now then, for tonights theme...

Oh yes, quite the dramatic one isn't it? I teased it last time, but perhaps I was a touch too oblique if even our long time thinkers couldn't puzzle it out.

'Who took too great a fall' is not the most detailed, but I will admit to playing a bit of a trick on you all. Many of our viewers gave answers such as the Morning Star, Humpty Dumpty, and Even that most unfortunate fellow in the southern most tip of the planet Earth who had a rather unpleasant meeting with the ground following a teleportation trip gone quite awry.

The trick, of course, was that I was speaking not of an individual, but a group.

Tonight, we ask the question, What makes a Fallen Angel?

Yes yes, I can feel your disdain already. Them, again? Do they not have enough of a stranglehold on our era? Is their time in the sun not far too long?

But my dear listeners, I do not think that is so! For what is a fallen angel if not a Steward of this World and others? Those born and bred to guide and protect, for whom the idea justice is not mere creed but makes up the deepest and sweetest aspects of them, down to the blood and bone?

Can you not think of one in your life who fits the description? An Idol you found lacking, a hero who became their own darkest mirror, a god mired in the muck of right and wrong?

Yes that's what I thought.

So!

The thought of it is quite alien to me dear viewer. I am, such as I am, a being who cannot do much more than observe. The taste and feel of the thought of falling makes no sense to me, though I can puzzle it out in a logical sense. I'm sure some would be quite entertained if I were to go into it but I'm afraid this isn't The Host's Personal Musing Hour, though perhaps I should pencil it in for the next one.

No, This is Radio B and B, which means of the viewers now is the time, now is the place, and if you would give a light preference to those who are new It would be most kind of you to let them reach out first to speak if they will.

And...

Here we go! Welcome, Welcome, and I believe you are a first time reader?

“That's correct,” the thing in the appearance of a young lady said.

Wonderful. And do you have thoughts as to the question?

The Thing nodded.

“I was...Well I am one of them, so I thought, perhaps I would be the best to answer this question.” the fallen angel said.

Oh ho! I understand. Would this be a personal tale or more...?

“The thing of it is, It's not the same for everyone?”

Not a universal experience hm?

“Not in the least. In the old days, when I was young I mean, the only ones who ever fell were well...Evil.”

Subjectively?

“Objectively. Or, I mean, I suppose that's not quite right. They were disobedient in many cases, of the rules put forth by our creator, but in many ways that disobedience lead to hurt and harm so I thought, we all thought, oh this is evil. This is wrong.”

It is hard to say what is an acceptable level of harm before it crosses over from needs or fun into well...

“Yeah. But things were simpler then. At the dawn of things, or at that dawn at least, it was straight forward. Life was hard, it was brutal, it was short. For mortals, for those part of the whole...of everything I suppose, it was hard enough to simply survive. So to harm your fellows, oh it was wrong. Punishment was necessary. Justice must be meted.”

It did not stay so?

“I don't think it ever was, but we, I was young. Like kids, we made assumptions, and for most of us who stayed at the time...At the time we simply understood our creator to be correct, and didn't need to put forward additional thought. This was life, this was our lot, and it wasn't going to change.”

And then it did.

The Fallen Angel nods.

“What do you understand of theft, if I may ask?”

Hm? Well, it's the taking of what doesn't belong to you.

“Right. For me, the moment I can pin to my descent, was that by the rules of it all, theft was theft was theft. That's how I understood it at least. So when a thief made it past the gates I was...Livid. They were a thief! They Stole!”

A plain offense.

“As simple as flying yes. And yet I was told, no, this was fine. It was acceptable here. But why? It made no sense that this thief, that they were somehow deserving of all this when they had done what was objectively wrong. And uh...Here's where I went awry.”

Because of thieves?

“Because I didn't understand everything. Mortals are built different from us. They have a distinct inability to know and that leads to problems. It leads to errors, it leads to dirty dealings. Unlike us, well, we knew so there was no way we could be wrong.”

And your creator told you this?

“You know, no they didn't. In fact, I think in some ways, our orders were a test we failed, at least those of us who stayed without giving it a further thought. We listened, and we knew, and what we did with that knowledge was...Nothing. Not unless ordered. Not unless it fell within a strict set of rules that we viewed the world, viewed creation through. While remaining Angels, we could not fall, we could not disobey.”

And what did your creator tell you?

“To protect them. To love them. Guide them when they walked off the path, though we were no more told the path than they were in truth. But to falling.”

To falling.

“Theft was wrong, and so, obviously, I would see to it all thieves were punished dutifully. Before they died.”

Oh.

“Right? My thought was, well if they died and made it, they were technically fine, and technicallities were well..Failure states. Perfection shown to be imperfect. But while they were alive, well, I could see to it as I pleased, within bounds. After all they were thieves.”

The Fallen Angel laughs.

“It was so stupid. But I kept up with that for so long, punishing thieves as I came across them, until one day I realized...What's theft?”

Taking something that doesn't belong to you.

“Of course! If you take something that doesn't belong to you, then you're a thief. So, by that logic, after you've exchanged something, simple words, goods, services, whatever, it was no longer theft. It was as easy as saying someone could have something and that was it.”

I must confess I'm not quite following you at the moment.

“Well, if you made something, it's yours right?”

Certainly.

“And if you made it for someone, it's theirs.”

It follows.

“And what if you made something for someone, but you were not well...Compensated properly? What if you were forced into the situation? Was it still something exchanged if you were already compelled?”

A tad murkier I think.

“A lot murkier. But what I realized was many of the people I was inflicting justice upon could not be thieves by the definitions I used. They were the ones being stolen from, so for them to take what was stolen back was...Complicated. The act was theft, but the act wasn't theft, but was it still theft if you stole from the thief that robbed you in the first place?”

A classic logic error.

“Yeah....I uh...Did not handle it well.”

That sounds encouraging.

“I dropped a meteor.”

You handled it, I will say, spectacularly.

The Fallen Angel laughs, with a slight edge of panic.

“See the problem with knowing, which no one ever will tell you about when they do, is that when you know, it's extremely easy to justify anything. That doesn't make you right, though you may in fact be right. And I looked at what existed of creation then and there, and realized there was no way that as things were that things would be likely to improve. Likely to improve. Not certain, but likely.”

Ah. I think I understand.

“Without some massive shock to the system, the mortals of those times were almost certain to continue on forever. So I opted to give it the shock it needed.”

And that's when you fell.

“Yeah. If the world was to stay the same, if I were to guide and protect and all that, I couldn't merely prevent. I couldn't...Well, it didn't matter really. I was wrong. That's not what caused me to fall though.”

The meteor was not sufficient to cause you to fall.

“Oh no the meteor was definitely enough, but that wasn't the bit that did it. When I thought This is wrong, it needs to change, that's when it happened. I no longer knew, because I had my doubts and that, I think, was what did it.”

The doubt?

“Yeah. I won't make excuses for my bad actions, they were wrong, but the moment I thought that things could never improve, that I actively disbelieved in it? I fell in an instant.”

That seems rather cruel.

“It would seem it right? But I think I get it now. The world wasn't certain to continue on that way. But I knew, or rather I knew, that it would. I couldn't believe in something better. And that's the trick, though I wish I had the revelation over something more chill like never thinking I'd get a better pastry or something like that. It'd be cuter at least.”

Agreed.

“But, for Angels at least, or at least my kin, Knowledge isn't the same thing as Believing in something. And while we are up there, we know it all, so we can't really believe in it. There's no...Core to it really. It's empty.”

When you say empty you mean...?

“In the same way I could persecute thieves for stealing, while not thinking further and wondering what it really means to thieve, merely knowing doesn't do anything for you If you don't have something to do with it. Like...There was this book I liked, though I'm not sure when it was written in relation to here-”

Yes.

“But basically you KNOW the sun will come up the next day, but that's not really true. Any number of things could happen between the time you close your eyes. The wider universe could snuff it all out in an instant. You Believe the sun will rise, but that necessitates being able to doubt the sun would rise in way. But because of that, you can believe in bigger, better, and stronger things than mere facts. But this leads to errors, it leads to bad actors, it leads to well...The murkiness of life.”

And this murkiness then is what you think goes into the making of fallen angels like yourself?

“Yeah. It's...Well I suppose it's not very exciting. And maybe I explained myself poorly?”

Oh no, I think not in fact. Though, I fear our time is coming to an end. For you at least. I believe you'll be awake in a few moments actually.

“Oh is tha-

A wonderful guest they were. Well listeners, what thoughts have you on the subject? Did you learn something, or find their answers as infuriating as the insects that crawl across your skin? Did a new door open up for you, or slam shut as the heartbeat begins again.

Today was a shorter program than most, but then that's how it is on Radio B and B.

Until the next time.

#Flash Fiction Friday #A New Dawn #Dying Fire #Hidden Path #Bit of a Long one today!

[annaofthenorthernlights]

Dinner for two

A Kristanna one shot fanfic

Rating: F/M

Relationship: Anna/Kristoff (canon verse)

Words counting: 2401

Summary: On the evening of the great thaw, Anna provides Kristoff with a gallant dinner at his new accommodation. This is about coming home and getting first steps into friendship. Some feelings... Because I can´t help it getting them together in an innocent way...

Hope you enjoy!!! :)

 So, the villain was thrown overboard and put to the castle jail for the time being.

 There had been great cheer and laughter once the party of three plus a reindeer and snowman riding between the animal´s antlers had got down from the boat to get into the harbour on a transport vessel.

 Then, everything happened in a rush over… The moment they descended the boat, people came running up greeting and questioning them with lot of excitement.

 Elsa first talked to Kai, then turned to Anna “I will have to talk to the ambassadors and guests of honour to explain. You will make sure to take a rest before tonight´s dinner, will you?”

 “But Elsa,” Anna intervened, “you need a rest, too.” Elsa waved off and explained, that she would rest later, for sure.

 “All right,” Anna smiled and then gasped, leaning closer to her sister, whispering, “I would like to take care, Kristoff and Sven get a suitable accommodation for the time being. But for that, I will need Gerda´s help. Is that okay with you?” Elsa nodded happily, that was a great idea. She then left towards the castle. The people would not come to close near her, after all she was the queen.

Anna turned to Kristoff, who stood surrounded by some customers from the marketplace. He got questioned on what had happened and he shrugged, not really knowing what to say.

 Anna wanted to step up, hooking herself into Kristoff´s arm kind of protecting him from the friendly attacks. But then a thought struck her mind ´you just kicked your false fiancé overboard and now you go for the next one? ´ She felt a bit forlorn and silly. But then, the ice harvester was her friend, was he not? He looked like he desperately needed some help, it was her turn now to step in for him. So, Anna came along and stood next to the man who had raced down the hills with her. “Ah, you must know, it is all rather complicated. We will explain in time, I promise. But will you please excuse us, we all need some rest.”

 The chatter ebbed and the people apologetically moved out of the way and smiling they went off.

 Kristoff sighed and glared at Anna “thank you. That was spooky.”

 “Ehem, nearly as scary as Marshmallow on the north-mountain…?” She giggled and then added quickly, “don´t worry, I will show you and Sven a safe place.”

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

A bit later, Olaf sat on Anna´s bed and looked around in amazement. “Oh Anna, your home is so lovely. I like it.”

 “Glad you do,” Anna smiled at her little friend, “you are welcome to stay with me if you like.”

 “Oh, I don´t know. I promised Sven to come over for a visit.” Olaf mused. “Do you think, Kristoff will stay forever in the stables? Should he not rather be sleeping in a bed like other humans?”

 Anna glanced to the window, that gave free sight towards the old stable department and hoped deep inside he would feel comfortable right now.

 She had offered Kristoff a guest room within the castle. But he had been so reluctant, at the end he confessed he rather stay with Sven in the super nice stables, she had just shown to his best friend. Anna had understood that after all the excitement, the man appreciated the solitude with his companion. She than had promised him to come over later with some dinner.

 On Elsa´s request Kristoff had been invited to dine with them and the other guests. That was worse to him than her offer of the guest room in the first place. Anna had chuckled, nodding understanding, and had then excused him for the occasion.

 Now, she was about to get ready for the evening dinner. As much as she had ever wished to dine with her sister, to be surrounded with people for chatter and laughter, she now felt kind of uncertain of how to feel about all those people seeing her again. She still felt silly, childish of the late event. She had thrown herself at that betrayer´s neck practically publicly. Gossip would rise for sure… But then, she did not want to leave Elsa alone that first evening back at home.

 And then, Anna had mused if she should ask Kristoff why he had come back to Arendelle after all. Apparently, he had rushed to help her. Had Olaf been right, that he loved her? She decided to wait for a proper opportunity to talk to him. But not tonight. They all needed to settle in the first place, get a rest and especially no overthrown talking yet.

 Olaf liked what he saw.

 Anna had finished dressing. Her light green dress was simple cut, with some traditional embroidery in mix of dark green and black along the front buttons, that run the bodice. The skirt´s bottom seem was embroidered in the same style, just broader stitched. Her hair was combed in a bun, with two braids engulfing the round piece. A green sleeve was stuck decoratively in the right-side braid.   Together they went downstairs towards the great dining room. Olaf then left, to see Sven.

The dinner was a quite ongoing. Elsa sat at the head of the table; Anna was seated next to her at the top of the right length side. It was all so overwhelming to Anna, although she was exhausted from all the happenings of late. She would enjoy so much sitting next to her sister daily from now on.

 Next to Anna sat Lord Dubois of Bourgogne. He was kind, with a fatherly way of conversation. Lord Dubois had offered to take Prince Hans back to the Southern-Islands, as they lay on his way back home. Elsa and Anna had thanked him for taking care of that misfortunate topic.

 Before desert was served, Anna leaned in a bit closer to Elsa with a questioning look. Elsa looked puzzled, then understood. She smiled and nodded with her head for Anna to leave.

 Anna quietly said goodbye to her table neighbour and got up. She nodded in the round and then left silently.

 Once out of the dining hall, she hurried up towards the kitchen. It was not uncommon for her to show up there. Olina, the cook, had been informed before by Gerda, of the princesses´

request for the night. So, when Anna stood in the door, two baskets with food, dishes, and cutlery service were already packed and ready for her to pick up. Nobody would say a word or question her doing for tonight.

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

Kristoff was laying cosily against Sven´s body. The animal had dozed off, after he had been offered a giant bucket of carrots that was delivered by a stable boy. Apparently ordered by the princess personally. The haystack in the corner had been multiplied as well and the water barrel freshly refilled. It was a nice place, dry, warm, and clean. What more could he ask for?

 At this very moment, a kicking noise against the door startled him from his musing. Then a soft nock, the door opened slightly, and an auburn head peeped through, grinning “hello, disturbing?”

 Kristoff pushed up from his position, unwillingly nudging Sven with his elbow. The reindeer startled up from the ground so fast that Kristoff nearly tipped over backward. Regaining his composure just as fast, he easily cleared his throat, “no, all fine. Please come in.”

 Sven had already skipped over to Anna and pranced around, showing his happiness seeing her.

 “I must say,” Anna chuckled, stroking Sven´s chin, “this is certainly a far more natural greeting than over there.” She nodded her head towards the castle.

 “Why am I glad to have stayed out of that…?” Kristoff remarked with a grin and stepped closer to give Anna a hand with her bringing in the baskets. “Have you kicked the door just before?” he asked. “Yes, I thought it was loose and I could just push it with my foot. But it didn´t move so I still had to free a hand.” Anna shrugged and then explained, “oh yes, that´s your dinner. I hope you like it. I guess the cook has put in enough, hopefully.”

 Kristoff stared at the baskets in front of his feet and asked, “but you got something to eat already, did you? Who do you think should eat that all up?”

 “I thought you must be starving by now, so I wanted to make sure you get the best share of it!”

 “Thank you,” Kristoff meant it because his stomach did rumble since a while, “that´s very considerate. Must you go back immediately, or can I offer the princess a … seat in the strow?” He gestured with a generous move towards the stables, where Sven had laid himself back down in the corner.

 Anna grinned and then laughed, feeling so comfortable and honestly welcomed. “Oh yes, that would round up the evening just perfectly, thank you!” She followed Kristoff´s gesture and went over to the strow and plopped herself down into the golden bed. She patted Sven´s neck behind her, adjusted her skirts shifting around and then sat straight, ready to be a good company.

 “Where is Olaf,” Anna looked around wondering where the little fellow had gone. “Oh, he went back to your room. He said that he had never seen a bed so comfy in his entire life and couldn´t wait to go get a good sleep. Honestly, how long has he actually lived?” Kristoff chuckled and grabbed the baskets, then placed himself opposite from Anna.

 “True,” Anna sighed, “but I´m so happy we have him here.” Kristoff nodded, reassuring gently, “yes, he is unique.”

 Going through the immense food offer before him he whistled, glaring at Anna in amazement. “Okay, that´s provision for a week. How long do you want to jail me up in here?”

 Anna stared shocked. He felt imprisoned. No, that´s not what she had meant it to be… Panic rose within her and tears shot to her eyes.

 Kristoff noticed her face going white and eyes filling with tears. Oh no, what had he said? “Anna are you, all right? What is it?”

 “Is it so terrible for you to be here in town, at the castle´s environment?” She whispered, facing down, and fiddling with the fabric of the skirt with her fingers.

 Kristoff´s heart skipped for a moment. She worried for his well-being and thought he didn´t like it here… How fond he was of her. She was so honest, so selfless. “No, Anna. I´m grateful to be here. That you let me stay in here with Sven and don´t rush me to sleep in a room I could not identify with right now. I was kidding about being jailed up, okay?” He tilted his head to get a glance at her face.

 Anna looked up slowly when he was about to speak. She smiled uncertain of how to respond and then smiled at him, “you´re welcome. This place is yours for as long as you like.”

 Kristoff sighed relieved to have her smiling again, “thanks. Sounds great to me. Besides, I could not go anywhere far for the time being. I will have to reorganise my stuff.”

 Anna gasped, put a finger up as to mark the importance, “about that! Thanks for the reminder. Don´t worry, it´s all organised. Kai will take care of that. But we need an exact and clearly detailed list of all your belongings and supplies, that go along with the sled.” She started fiddling around in one of the baskets and pulled out a bundle of papers and pencil. “There, will you please set the list till tomorrow morning? That´d be great!” Anna beamed and laid the paper and pen next to Kristoff on the floor.

 The man looked back and forth from her to the paper. “Are you serious?” he gasped. “You shouldn´t…”

 “I promised you, forgotten? I would have totally understood if you had just walked off. But to be honest, I was so glad and thankful for your coming along. What would I have done without you?” Again, Anna´s eyes got moisty, but she composed herself, clearing her throat, adding conspiratorially “but still I understand it was Sven´s idea, right?” She winked and then put a sheepish smile, pulling up her shoulders giggling.

 “Yes, absolutely, it was!” Kristoff laughed and waved a hand in defence.

 “But now,” Anna nodded seriously to the baskets, “you should really do yourself some good and start eating, please.”

 Kristoff had insisted she should have a little share, otherwise he´d feel foolish eating all alone. As she hadn´t had any desert yet, Anna gladly granted his wish and helped herself with some nuts and another glass of wine. Then she checked the sweets basket and cried out joyfully discovering some chocolate cake.

 Kristoff tried not to stuff impolitely, but the diverse ingredients were delicious and so multiplied he could hardly decide where to start and how much he should enjoy. As he hadn´t eaten a lot the last days in the first place, he felt full very soon.

 He rubbed his stomach and sighed contentedly. “Thank you so much. I think I have not eaten so well, since… I even can´t remember haven eaten so well ever before.”

 “Don´t tell me you would not enjoy a vast food feast at your family´s place?” Anna laughed, but then gasped and stared at Kristoff.

 He had not noticed still caressing his belly. “No, that´s all wonderful. Berries, mushrooms, and sorts, you know. But I still indulge from that delicacy you know.”

 “Kristoff. Your family.” Anna put her hands to her chest, “don´t they need to know that we´re all fine and things have turned out to the best?”

 Now Kristoff looked at her, grinning, “I think, they already know… But if you like, I will take you up there again as soon as I can. So, you will tell them personally okay? But no, maybe that´s a bad idea. I mean, they will surely love to see you again… Only, you never know what they are up to the next time you meet them… you know?” He looked kind of apologetical and then uncertain not to scare her off.

 Anna smiled, shrugging she mused, “well, what if we just roll with it….?”

#kristanna because the are adorable #first steps into friendship #love

[aerynwrites]

Misunderstanding - Agent Whiskey x Reader

Author’s Note: Idk how I feel about this one, but in my own defense I’m running on like four hours of sleep and didn’t get out of class until like 6:30 so i am running on fumes XD. Sorry for any grammatical errors, but I hope you guys enjoy! And as always feedback is greatly appreciated <3.

Requested...Yes! You are Agent Whiskey's partner. He flirts with every female except you, which is frustrating because you have a major crush on him. It is so obvious that he treats you differently that even one of your co-workers notices.  You decide to request re-assignment because your stupid crush is affecting your work and making you sad.  Whiskey finds out you are being reassigned. He begs you to stay, confesses his feelings, & says he was trying not to let his lusty feelings show because he respects you. (request by anon)

Word Count: 2.8k

Warnings: Cursing, angst, fluff

/////

You sat at the large conference table in the Statesman headquarters, staring off into space as Champ gives a briefing to you and the other statesman agents. Some are there physically like Whisky, Ginger, Champ, Tequila, and yourself. While other agents, like Galahad and Eggsy two agents from the Kingsman, were attending the debriefing electronically using the glasses you all had. You were currently ignoring Champ in favor of looking at agent Whisky who sat further down the table. You had been harboring a rather large crush on the southern cowboy since you had joined the Statesman shortly after he had. So, it had been a very long few years of unrequited pining on your part. Jack Daniels, or better known as Agent Whiskey, was a well-known womanizer and flirt around the statesman headquarters. He would flirt with any woman that so much breathed or blinking in his direction. He consistently flirted with Ginger, even though she made it abundantly clear she was less than interested.

However, he did no such thing with you.

The only time he would so much as look in your direction was when you two were assigned together, which unfortunately happened to be a lot. At first you were excited to work with the well renowned agent, eager to get closer to the man you so admired. But the missions soon became a horrible ordeal for you since them were filled with nothing but small talk and professional conversations. You both would get in, get out, then Jack would immediately report to Champ the minuet you arrived back at base, leaving you in the dust. Frankly, it hurt. A lot. You tried to push your feelings aside, but seeing him flirt with every woman but you, made you feel horrible. It made your insecurities bubble to the surface a million times worse than what they were before. You constantly wondered what was wrong with you, why Jack seemed to like everyone but you, and it left you in a depressed state in the past few weeks.

You were finally drawn from your thoughts as Champ drew the meeting to a close and everyone stood to go their separate ways. Champ called both you and Jack to the front of the room as everyone gathered their things.

“Agent Whiskey, Agent Brandy, I need to speak to you for a moment if you please,” he waved he hand motioning you two forward.

You cast a quick glance towards Jack, only to see him not even look your way as you both approached your boss.

“What can we do for you sir?” you ask, your southern drawl heavy as you lean cross your arms across your chest.

“I have a new mission for the two of you,” Champ begins, handing you each a folder, “Doesn’t begin for a few days but I figure’ I’d go on ahead and give you the information now so you can be prepared.”

You felt your heart sink as the words left his mouth, another depression and tense mission with Jack. Before you could voice your objection, Jack spoke up and nodded his head towards Champ, “We will get it done boss,” he turned towards you now and gave you a curt nod, “Look forward to working with you again, Agent Brandy,” his tone is nothing but professional as he brushes past you and out the door of the conference room.

You feel your heart constrict in your chest as your eyes follow him out the door, before turning back to the folder in your hand, looking desperately for anything to ground you in this moment. Champ clears his throat and pulls your gaze to him once more.

“Is everything…good? Between you and Jack?” the use of Jacks first name tells you that Champ is truly concerned about the exchange that just happened, “I don’t think I’ve ever had that formal of an exchange with Agent Whiskey since he joined the statesman.” He looks at you seriously.

You just shrug your shoulders, “I don’t know Champ. He’s always treated me like that, nothing out of the usual here.” You reassure as best you can.

Champ just gives you a cautious nod before waving a hand, dismissing you from the conversation. You nod your head gratefully and turn to leave the room, your eyes falling on your fellow agent and close friend Ginger as she waited by the door for you. she gave you and understanding smile and followed beside you as you both walked to your quarters, which just so happened to be right next to each other.

“Thanks for waiting up Gin,”

She smiles and nods, “Of course, I wasn’t going to get ready without you.”

You look at her, brow pulled together in confusion, “Get ready for what?”

Gin rolled her eyes pushing her glasses back up her nose, “The get together tonight, remember? Champ’s opening up one of the older barrels of whiskey for the Statesman’s anniversary?” she reminds gently.

You let out a low groan running a hand down your face, “Shit. Yeah, I completely forgot, and if I’m being honest, I don’t really want to go,” you say, as you both finally approach your rooms.

“Oh, come on, (Y/N)!” she whines, “Jack’s going to be there,” she wiggles her eyebrows at you.

You roll your eyes, trying to ignore the lump forming in your throat at the mention of the agent, “Yeah that’s exactly why I don’t want to go. I’m sure he’ll be all over Rosé as usual,” you mutter bitterly.

Rosé was a new female agent who had been recently enlisted to the statesman, and ever since she touched down, Whiskey had been on her like white on rice. Flirting, sweet talking her, it was infuriating and made you want to cry all at once. So yeah, you could do without seeing that.

Ginger grabbed your arm gently, looking at you pleadingly, “Please, (Y/N)? we never get to do normal fun things anymore, and you know I’ve been looking forward to this since it was announced.”

You look at her for a moment, taking in her pleading expression, and let out a sigh before opening your door, “Fine, okay. Go get your outfit and come back over here to we can get ready.”

She gives out an excited noise before scurrying off to her room, leaving you standing there, immediately regretting your decision.

* * *

Lord were you right to regret your earlier compliance to come to this party.

You were currently sat at the bar, watching as everyone was drinking and square dancing out on the floor of the warehouse. You had been nursing the same glass of Statesman Whiskey that you had gotten at the beginning of the night, silently observing everyone else. You had of course seen Jack, since he was the first face you searched for when you entered the room, and your eyes hadn’t left him the entire night. He mainly stayed at the bar a few seats down talking casually with Tequila while they both had several drinks. You saw Tequila turn around, looking for someone when his eyes landed on you and he waved you over. You gave him a tight-lipped smile and held up your hand shaking your head, a silent no thank you.

He rolled his eyes before waving you over again and you sighed, standing to your feet. If you didn’t go now, he would come over there and drag you, over. You straightened out your knee length dress and pulled your curled hair over your shoulder as you approached, casting what you hoped to be a flirty look to Jack as you approached the pair.

Tequila threw his arm over your shoulder when you got in range and gestured to Whiskey, “Jack here was just telling me about the mission Champ gave y’all,” he said, “It sounds like an interesting one!”

You cast a curious glance to Jack who, for once, was looking directly at you, eyes roaming your body slightly. You felt your heart speed up at this small action, he was actually showing the tiniest bit of interest in you for once.

“Was he now?” you say to tequila, wriggling out of his grasp to stand between the two men, “What all did you tell him Jack?”

The man in question sent you a bright smile, eyes crinkling at the action, and you could’ve fainted right then and there. Yeah…you had it bad.

“I was just tellin’ him that you’re my favorite agent to work with is all,” he said simply, “we work well together, like a well oiled machine,” there seemed to be a suggestive tone to those last words, that had your hairs standing on end.

You opened your mouth to spout a teasing response, when an all too familiar and over powerful perfume filled your nostrils as Rosé waltzed into your little circle. She made a beeline for Jack and leaned heavily into him, as he made no move to reject her advances. You felt bile rise in your throat as you watch his gaze rake hungrily over her form and his arm snake around her waist.

“Hey there handsome,” Her sickly-sweet southern drawl sounded like nails on a chalkboard to your ears.

“Well hello Rosé,” Jack greeted, leaning in to take an exaggerated sniff of her hair, “Is that a new perfume?”

You heard her nasally voice reply but you didn’t comprehend the words as you hastily set your glass down on the bar and moved to leave the now suffocating circle.

“Hey, where you goin?” tequila questioned.

You had to blink back the tears pooling in your eyes and force down the lump in your throat as you pushed past him, “I forgot I have to go…talk to Gin about something,” you said lamely, “I’ll see y’all later.” You were out of sight before any of them could protest, and you missed the regretful glance that Jack cast your way.

You ignored Gin as she tried to stop you from leaving, and pushed her arms out of your way, walking briskly into the hallway and up to Champ’s office. By now tears were streaming down your face, but you could care less. Champ had seen you at your worst to you felt no shame as you barged into his office, makeup smudged and eyes red.

“What in the hell,” Champ sighed as you burst into his office.

“I want to be reassigned,” you cut to the chase, “I can’t-“ you choked on your words as you collapsed into the chair across from his desk, “I-can’t do it anymore Champ.”

“Do what?” the man asked, exasperated at having one of his best agents in shambles in his office.

You balled your fists up in the skirt of your dress and you looked at him, “I can’t work with Whiskey anymore. I can’t be around him. My feelings have gotten in the way of me doing my job effectively, so-“ you paused an took in a deep breath, “Can I please be reassigned? I heard a slot opened up in the Kingsman branch, I could go there.”

Champ didn’t say anything for a moment before finally speaking up, “(Y/N), you’re one of my best agents,” he explained, “You’ve carved a place for yourself here, are you sure your ready to give it all up?” he asks carefully.

You nodded curtly, “If it makes the pain go away, then yes.”

Champ gave you a look of regret, one that said he wishes you wouldn’t leave, but he also seemed to understand.

So, he heaved out a sigh and pulled some papers from his desk, “I’ll make some calls to the Kingsman branch,” he said quietly, “You should be good to leave within the week.”

You gave him a small smile and stood from your seat, “Thank you Champ, it has been an honor working for you. Truly.”

Champ stands too and walks around the desk, pulling you into a firm hug, “The pleasure is all mine Agent.”

* * *

You packed the last of your clothing into the suitcase on your bed, flipping it closed and zipping it. Your transfer had been approved without hesitation. Since the whole poppy incident, the Kingsman have been severely undermanned, and they eagerly accepted the help of a senior agent. Eggsy, who you had come to know quite well since the incident, had called you to tell you how excited he was for you to be part of the team, and if made you smile a genuine smile in what feels like months. It was nice to know that at least someone was excited about your presence. When Gin had found out about your transfer she was destroyed, heavily upset her best friend was leaving, but she understood, nonetheless.

“it will give me an excuse to come to London more often,” she had said teasingly.

You had told her to come and visit as much as she wanted, welcoming the company.

A loud knock from your apartment door drew you from your thoughts and you set the suitcase on the ground, “coming!” you called, as you walked towards the door.

You assumed it was Gin, coming to see if you had forgotten anything, “Gin, I promise I didn’t forget anything, how could I with your –“ as you swung the door open, it was not Gin on the other side, but instead it was Jack, looking very upset and confused.

“Jack?” you breath, “What are you doing here?”

“Is it true?” he blurted, one hand now resting on your door frame, “Did you request reassignment to the Kingsman branch?”

You purse your lips slightly before crossing your arms over your chest, “Yes, it’s true. I’m leaving in a couple hours,” you say casually, “But I don’t see what business it is of yours.”

By now any feeling you had for the man were buried under contempt and sadness, you had hoped to leave without having to confront him.

Jack stood straighter, “Why? You can’t leave, I won’t let you.” he said firmly.

You scoff, “You ‘won’t let me’?” you question, “You have no control over what I do. And last I checked I didn’t think you’d even care that I was leaving,” you say, bitterness lacing your words.

Jack seemed taken aback, as if someone had punched him in the face, “You thought I wouldn’t care if you left?” he breathed, shock written plainly on his features.

Now it was your turn to be confused.

“Well why would you?” you ask, “you never even give me a second look. You can hardly talk to me on missions besides small talk and mission details. You don’t flirt with me; you don’t even act like I exist. And here I am pining over you like some school-girl because I fell in love with someone who won’t ever love me back,” you voice had risen several octaves by now, buried emotions finally coming to the surface, “Why don’t you just go on back to Rosé, since you two seem to be so close.” You spit.

You expected Whiskey to laugh at you, belittle you for even thinking those things, or lecture you and tell you how unreasonable you were being. What you did not expect, however, was two warm hands grabbing the sides of your face and two rough lips colliding with your own. You immediately responded to the kiss, hands resting on his shoulders momentarily before sliding up to the back of his neck. You relished in the moment, the moment that you had been imagining for so many years, that you almost whined when he pulled away.

“Wh-what the hell was that?” you gasped, your confused eyes meeting his sincere brown ones.

“The truth is,” he pauses, eyes dancing across your face before he continues, “truth is – that I’ve had feelings for you the moment you walked through those doors,” he admits, “But I not only had feelings for you, but I respected you. respected you too much to treat you the way I treat other women,” he explained.

You looked at him, and you relaxed your shoulders slightly, giving him an exasperated look, “So you’re telling me- that you felt the same about me this whole damn time,” you begin, “But you wouldn’t even look at me and basically treated me like I didn’t exist because you love me and respected me?” you reiterate his main points, trying to understand.

He sighs and looked down at his feet sheepishly, something very out of character for him, “Well it sounds stupid when you say it like that.”

You let out a chuckle and smack his shoulder playfully, “Well it was stupid, you idiot,” you give him another quick kiss, “We could’ve been doing a lot more of that if you had just treated me like everyone else,” you wink.

Whiskey gives you a wicked grin before picking you up and wrapping your legs around his waist, as he enters your apartment, closing the door behind him.

“Looks like we have a lot of catching up to do, don’t we?”

Yes, yes you did.

///

Permanent Tags: @lord-wolfgen @petalduck​

#agent whiskey x reader #agent whiskey #jack daniels #jack daniels x reader #kingsman #statesman

[blossom-hwa]

Bloom - HAN JISUNG

did i purposely edit this fic so it had exactly 11111 words? you bet

if you read moonstruck remember what i said about a series of nature spirit stories? well HERE’S PART TWO

(i will add links later because my posts don’t show up in the tags if there are links so anyway screw tumblr ig)

Pairing: Han Jisung x fem!reader

Genre: fluff, angst, nature spirit!au

Triggers: mild violence

Word Count: 11k

The trickster fae are known for destruction, not growth, but one repenting fae helps a mortal bloom.

Spinoffs: Perfect | Tiny Steps (I’ll Hold Your Hand)

SKZ Masterlist | Whispers of Nature

They say danger lies within the forest that marks the southern border of the village. But at this moment, you can’t really bring yourself to care.

If there is danger, let it come. You’re far too tired to think of the consequences of your actions and even if they result in death, you would rather die at the hands of Mother Nature than those of your fellow villagers.

But you forgot about the infamous screech owl. Just the thing that killed several foolish children who ventured into the forest several years ago.

It swoops down without a sound.

You wonder how an animal so large can move so quietly.

Then you see its eyes screaming rage and murder and your body finally moves.

Curses stream from your lips as you throw yourself to the side, landing hard on the pretty green grass. There’ll be a stain on your tunic after this that’ll be a pain to wash off.

If you get out of here alive.

It swoops down again and you veer left, pushing yourself to your feet. Wind whistles and the owl screeches and you scream.

This is how it ends, I guess.  

Then something shimmers into being and the owl stops sharply, an expression mimicking your fear rising into its eyes. You remain rooted in place, eyes fixed upon the being in front of you.

The boy looks around your age. He glows in the fading daylight, his bare feet floating above the forest floor. Blonde hair falls down to his neck, and when he turns around, you can see it brushes across the top of his forehead, nearly hanging into his eyes. Green tunic. Brown pants. His clothes are so simple and plain, but he wears them like a prince.

He smiles at you, a heart-shaped smile that leaves you wondering what kind of being he is.

He turns back around and you don’t know what he does, but with a last screech, the owl flies away. You rack your brain for any clues on what this beautiful boy could be, but he faces you again and your mind goes blank.

He’s really rather beautiful.

“Hello.” Even that one word sounds so warm and inviting. Sparkling eyes glimmer with mischief. “What does a beautiful lady like you in this dangerous forest?”

It takes a moment to get your voice back. “Nothing much,” you finally reply.

“Pretty humans don’t belong in forests like this, where danger may lurk in any corner.” He floats a little closer, his glow beginning to warm your skin. He drifts down until he’s standing (is he really standing? He looks a bit translucent) in front of you. If you leaned forward just a few inches, your lips would touch his. “Especially not those with eyes as beautiful as yours.”

Your breath hitches. He’s staring at you with an uncomfortable (yet somehow alluring) intensity that wipes half the thought from your mind. No one has ever stared you in the eye with anything more than malice, fear, or disgust.

And certainly no one has ever said your eyes are beautiful.

“I wanted to be alone,” you get out. “Solitude.”

His eyes sparkle. “Very dangerous,” he says, nodding gravely, but you can see understanding in the curl of his lips. “I don’t know if you’re brave or foolhardy to seek solitude in the forest, especially so close to dark.”

“Foolhardy, probably.” You shiver slightly as the cooling wind sweeps across your skin. “Thank you for your help with the…”

Oh.

Realization fills your mind. Only a few beings could frighten an owl with their mere presence, and only one happens to glow.

He is one of the fae.

“Are you from the faerie ring?”

He has to pick up on your sudden shift in mood. All mortals know that fae can be dangerous, even lethal, in their intentions and tricks. The first thing village children learn is if they ever happen to stray into the forest, they must avoid the faerie ring. The fae have kidnapped many children, and never do they bring them back.

You know the guarded look that must be upon your face – you wear it every time you walk into the village square. But despite your realization, nothing changes on the fae’s shimmering, translucent face – he keeps grinning that same heart-shaped grin. He dips into a deep bow. “At your service, my lady.”

“Oh,” you murmur, stepping back. It’s less of a murmur than an exhale of surprise, really. No one has ever shown you such respect before – even if it is teasing, as this bow seems to be. But when the fae rises, you sense no malice. Only gentle mischief.

Silence stretches between you two until you clear your throat. “Well, Lord fae, thank you for your help with the owl.”

“It was my pleasure.” If possible, his smile grows wider.

“If there was possibly something I could do in return…” you trail off, lost in thought.

“Actually, there is.” His face holds an expression of pure innocence, but glinting eyes tell you too late that you may have made a grave mistake. The fae holds out one hand. “May I have your name?”

You almost say it. After all, when someone asks for your name, it is only polite to give it.

But typically, those who ask for names are not fae, trickster beings of high power. For them, giving a name means giving control. And when names fall upon the wrong tongue…

You don’t want to know what will happen next.

Mouth clamped shut, you think quickly, staring at the outstretched hand. Finally, you speak, words slow and careful.

“Lord fae, I’m afraid I cannot give you my name for it belongs to me and only me,” you reply politely. “But if it so pleases you, you may call me Nae Ireum.”

It’s the oldest trick in the book, telling a fae to call them by “my own self.” You know he would never fall for it and the laughter bursting from his lips tells you that you were right. As he laughs, you school your expression into one of slight amusement, but you know you cannot quite hide your fear.

What if he does not take your refusal lightly?

“Very good,” the fae chokes out, laughter gone. “You are a smart one, my lady.” He drops his hand to his side and smiles widely. “You have been taught well.”

“I taught myself,” you reply in a moment of brazen confidence.

“Then you must be a wonderful scholar.” He winks. “If you will not give me my first request, then at least allow me to escort you to the village.”

What?

You blink. “Why?”

“It would only be proper for a lord to escort his lady safely home,” he teases.

Maybe you smile shyly, but no one but this fae is here to confirm it, so you ignore the heat rising in your cheeks. “I’m not your lady,” you mutter.

“Of course, my lady.” His tone turns cheeky and you realize winning against this fae will not be possible. So instead of releasing the retort upon your lips, you only sigh. He grins in victory. “Let’s go!”

He stays with you for the entire hour-long walk back to the village, keeping you occupied with flirty words and teasing grins that make you feel as though you are simply speaking to a handsome boy, rather than a millennia-old fae of the forest. For the first time in years, you feel light of heart. His gaze rarely strays from yours but he does not make you feel uncomfortable, not even with your strange green eyes. No, he speaks to you like a human being, like someone who has a life and a story and a soul.

The sky is nearly dark by the time you reach the edge of the forest. “Thank you, Lord fae,” you whisper, feeling suddenly shy. His glow and his gaze make you feel warmer in the sunset.

His heart-shaped grin grows gentler. “It was my pleasure. If I could, I would kiss your hand.” He winks. “Alas, this form will not allow me to do so. Be safe, my lady. And keep the tears out of your eyes – it will only make them more beautiful.”

With those last parting words, he disappears into a soft flash of light, and you are left to wonder if the last few hours were only a figment of your imagination.

. . . . .

Jisung dozes slightly one day in the warm light of the fae realm. The queen seems to be in a good mood, for the weather is pretty and picturesque, and even the pixies have ventured out of hiding to dance among the waving blades of grass.

In the past, Jisung may have toyed with them, played little pranks and sent them fleeing back into their gardens. He would have laughed at their hatred towards his kind and taken pleasure in heightening that hate. But today, he only keeps his eyes closed and lets the pixies flit around him. So long as they cause no harm, he won’t either.

Then a small disturbance triggers in the back of his mind and he sits up, a half-frown, half-smile upon his face. Someone is near his faerie ring.

Maybe it’s the person he hopes it will be.

Green eyes flash through his mind. Not the forest green of the dryads (who didn’t wake up the entire time you and Jisung were causing a ruckus, which is really a testament to how soundly they sleep), but paler, realer, more intense. Still, though, Jisung finds one thing in common between your eyes and theirs: your quiet strength. The strength of the earth.

Jisung wouldn’t mind seeing you again.

He summons himself to the ring, where a pleasant surprise greets him. At the sight of your shocked face, he grins. “Back so soon, my lady?”

Your bright green eyes look slightly dazed, which is to be expected – the ring has power, and it likes to pull unsuspecting mortals towards it. Thankfully, you have enough presence of mind to resist, though Jisung feels a little put out by your backing away.

“Yes,” you answer shortly. You shake your head slightly as though shaking off the pull of the ring, and when you look up again, your eyes are clearer.

“For solitude again, or for something else?” His smile grows wider as he comes to a realization. “Perhaps you just couldn’t wait to see me again? After all, you took the trouble to find my ring.”

He prays he doesn’t sound too hopeful.

You snort. “As if,” you sniff, though your eyes betray your amusement. “I came out of curiosity. To see if I could find the forbidden faerie ring.” Your legs wobble slightly, as though you’re tired. You very well might be – Jisung knows you must be a long way from your village. He lies down flat on his back, hoping you get the message. When you sit cross-legged next to the ring, he knows you have.

“You dare sit in the presence of your Lord fae?” Though his voice sounds affronted, your nonplussed look tells him you see the lightness in his eyes.

“I believe you are trapped within your ring, Lord fae,” you deadpan. “If the legends are true, it weakens your magic.”

“Perhaps.” The wind blows, and Jisung relishes the feeling of fresh air against his brow. “But I could still curse you and your family from within this ring.”

“If you wanted to curse me, you would have just let the owl have its way,” you point out.

Jisung laughs, truly laughs. It’s been a long time since he’s spoken to someone new, and he is very glad that you are the someone new. “Astute observation, my lady.” With a sigh, he pulls himself up and winks at you. “A lady with a mind as sharp as her eyes are beautiful.”

The same sparkle rises in your shy eyes and Jisung delights in the sight. Truthfully, you are not the most beautiful woman he has seen. Over his millennia in the fae realm and the mortal plane, he has seen many fae and humans who are more conventionally gorgeous than you. But your eyes are alluring, your smile is sweet, and even with your quick tongue, you exude a sort of elegance and tired kindness that Jisung hopes will never fade.

“You’re not translucent anymore,” you note. Jisung knows you’re trying to change the subject and kind of wants to keep teasing you, but he’s in a good mood today so he lets you keep going. “Does that mean you’re fully bound to the ring?”

You really do know your legends. Jisung is impressed. “You are correct, my lady.” His smile only wavers very slightly. “When I accompanied you back last time, I sent a fragment of my soul. It was not my physical being.”

He then waits for the inevitable next question – “Why are you bound to the ring?”

It was the first thing Changbin asked when the faerie ring appeared. It was what all the dryads asked when they sensed the presence of their new neighbor. In fact, the only ones who hadn’t asked Jisung what happened were Hyunjin the water nymph and Chan the guardian, and that was because they were the reason why Jisung had ended up bound to the ring in the first place.

But the question that comes from your mouth is not the one he expects. “How does that happen? How do you separate your soul into different parts?” Your eyes are wide with curiosity, but not for him. For fae in general. Somehow, that comforts Jisung much more than attention on him would.

So he struggles to explain the process, fumbling over his words in a way that no Lord fae should, but you only nod and listen and smile and frown with singular concentration. You listen to his words closely, asking more and more questions until Jisung can’t answer them anymore and is forced to admit his lack of knowledge on the topic.

“So the Lord fae is not all-knowing, I see,” you tease. The sun has just begun to set and you are standing up, brushing bits of grass and leaves from your clothing. The blue tunic may look faded, but against the backdrop of the forest, you look like you could be a gentle nymph. One who helps, not harms.

“Did I ever claim that I was?” Jisung shoots back. He won’t lie – he can’t lie, in fact – his pride is a little bruised. However, his pride is not worth as much to him as it used to be. He can’t help the laugh that escapes from his lips again – he likes you too much. “Will you need an escort home?”

“You would escort me anyway even if I said no.” But despite your resigned tone, you look at him with a smile on your face.

“You are not wrong in that statement.” He grins. “Shall we go, my lady?”

(The next time you see him, you ask for his name. “If it so pleases you,” he grins, repeating your words, “you may call me Han.”)

. . . . .

Several months pass and you are very proud to say you haven’t shown Han your crying face once since the first meeting. But comfort and solitude were what drove you to the fae in the first place, and it is hard to pull up such deep roots.

You arrive at the ring with your tears mostly gone, but eyes still puffy and rimmed with red. You don’t call for him this time – in fact, you’re half-hoping he doesn’t come, so you don’t have to reveal this weak side that disgusts and saddens you.

You wish you were born stronger. Strong enough to fight the villagers’ sharp words and disgusted looks, strong enough to at least run away. But you can barely feed and clothe and shelter yourself as it is, so there is little to no chance of either event happening.

“There’s my lady.” Han’s teasing voice sounds beside you and on reflex, you look around slightly. Quickly, though, you drop your head, staring straight at the grass in front of you.

“What’s this?” You hear the rustle of grass, indicating that he, too has sat down. “My lady won’t respond to me?” The mischief in his voice turns to concern. “What’s wrong, my lady? Why are there tears in your pretty eyes?”

Because my eyes are a blight upon my being.

Because they bring the hatred of the village upon me.

Because no matter what you say, I can’t think of them as truly beautiful.

Because you may be lying to me.

“Han.” Your voice is small but steady and you take comfort in that. Still, you do not look at him. “Do you truly believe my eyes are beautiful? Or are you only playing another fae trick upon a poor mortal like me?”

Silence.

“My lady.” His voice is serious, yet you can sense the small smile in his tone. “With all your knowledge of the legends of my kind, will you tell me that you don’t know that we cannot lie?”

Embarrassment crawls up your skin. You do know the legend, but truth is multifaceted. There are many loopholes that the fae dearly love to exploit. “I do know, Lord fae,” you say, “but when you say my eyes are beautiful, it does not mean that you find them beautiful. It only means that at least one being between our planes finds them beautiful. It does not mean that person is you.” You snort. “And it certainly is not a member of my village.”

A sigh escapes from the lips of the fae next to you. “You never cease to amaze me,” he mumbles, more to himself than to you. “Your words are true. Yet I will promise you that I have only thought of myself when I tell you that your green eyes are some of the most beautiful I have ever seen.”

The tears start welling up again and you can’t bring yourself to look at the fae. Your mind knows his words must be true, for fae cannot break promises and they cannot tell lies, but your heart cannot believe it.

“Do you know what your eyes remind me of?” he asks.

You still don’t look up.

His tone turns a little pleading. “My lady, please look at me.”

You finally do, red-rimmed eyes and tear-stained cheeks and all.

“They remind me of freedom.” A small, different smile plays upon his lips. It isn’t sad, exactly – more nostalgic. Wistful.

“Freedom,” you echo.

“I was not always bound to this faerie ring, you know?” His tone is a little teasing, a little self-deprecating, a little angry, but also a little repentant. “When I was free, I used to travel the earth. It was green, green as far as the eye could see. It was beautiful.” He smiles at you. “Your eyes are the same green as my Mother Earth.”

You’ve never seen him this way – pensive, wistful, a far cry from the teasing sarcasm and snark you are used to. Your fingers itch to touch him, to comfort him, but sense still overrules your heart. To place a limb inside the ring could possibly be suicide. You will not risk that.

(Yet.)

The rest of your time together passes in silence. He doesn’t ask for an explanation of your state and you don’t offer him one, only taking comfort in the whispering quiet of the forest around you and Han’s warm presence beside you. As the sun begins to set, he asks if you would like an escort home. The smile on your face is more genuine as you stand up and nod.

The walk is also silent, though not uncomfortable or strange. But as you reach the edge of the forest, as he’s just about to disappear, you whisper, “Thank you.”

Han flashes you his heart-shaped grin – a little gentler, a little less teasing than usual. “Of course, my lady.”

. . . . .

One month. A full month passes before Jisung senses your presence near the faerie ring again. He reappears with a half-upset, half-overjoyed smile on his face, ready to teasingly berate you for not coming sooner and interrogate you on the reasons why. But the teasing words die upon his lips when he sees your state.

Because for all the sadness and strange words of your last meeting, he never expected that this was the reason behind your silence.

He’s never seen these bruises and cuts upon your skin before. A couple of faded scrapes are normal for anyone, and a few small bruises from when you fell, trying to get away from the owl. But this time, blotches of purple and green litter your arms while a small but fresh, healing cut slices your shoulder. A black bruise mars your right eye.

Jisung’s fingers itch to take your hand, to pull you close, to examine each and every cut and bruise upon your skin and exact revenge from those who caused them. For once, he wants to leave the ring for a reason other than to satisfy his selfish desire for freedom.

But he cannot. The invisible walls of the perfectly-shaped ring prevent him from touching you the way he wants.

“Who did this to you?” he murmurs instead, trying to hold back growing anger. “And why?”

You smile a little as you sit, though it’s cynical and sad and nothing like the genuine happiness you have shown him before. “Someone heard me speaking to you the last time you walked me back.”

“And?” Jisung pulls bits of grass from the ground out of frustration. “What of it?”

“They think I’m a witch.” Your clear, green eyes stare into Jisung’s, and suddenly, everything makes sense.

Why you wanted solitude.

Why you cried last time.

Why you asked him those strange questions about what he thought about your eyes.

He sits in silence as you explain. They think the devil took your soul when you were young, you tell him, and he cursed you with those horrible green eyes. The eyes are too different, too strange for the villagers to accept in their rural beliefs. They think of you as an abomination. The only reason they have not killed you yet is because they are afraid that watering the earth with devil blood will only make the Mother angry.

“Your parents?” he asks when you fall silent.

You laugh, but the sound holds no mirth. “They wish I were dead.”

Jisung stays quiet as he tries to wrap his mind around that. The closest thing to a mother he’s ever had is the Faerie Queen, and though she deals harsh punishments at times (he is exhibit number one), she has never wished death upon her subjects. She is mischievous, capricious, and a lying trickster, but to her subjects she is just and fair. She would give up her life for them.

Your voice breaks into his thoughts. “The other villagers pity them,” you continue, “so they get attention and pity and sorrow. I get nothing.” You pause. “Except you.”

He doesn’t know why that hits him so hard. You only spoke two short words. But those words give him such an indescribable warmth in his chest that he can barely control his intense desire to hold your face between his hands with the gentlest touch of the wind.

“So I couldn’t visit for a month,” you continue, oblivious to Jisung’s predicament. “They suspected I was going out to do witchy things, so I had to stay in the village so suspicions would fade away. I go out on my own a lot, anyway. They usually leave me alone unless something bad happens.”

“Why?” Jisung asks, recovering himself.

The cynical smirk on your face makes Jisung feel like his heart is breaking in half. “Because they blame it on me.”

To be fairly honest, Jisung doesn’t exactly know what to say to that. Sure, he’s been blamed for some small things he didn’t commit, but the faerie queen has her Sight and he’s always been acquitted. All his punishments have been justified, something he’s reflected on over the thousands of years he’s remained bound to this ring.

He can’t understand the injustice of your situation. Humans think fae are the tricksters and the manipulators, but how much better are they, with their aversion to strangeness and any sort of difference?

“Humans,” he huffs quietly, angrily pulling out another blade of grass. He does it with such force that he can hear the grass scream in pain. His eyes widen as he sees all the little piles of grass he’s pulled up around him and immediately he soothes a hand over them, attaching them back to their severed roots.

“I’m a human,” you point out with little venom. In fact, you’re staring at his hands with a hint of wonder and awe upon your face, nothing even close to annoyance or outrage. “But you’re not wrong.”

Jisung doesn’t know what to say in response.

“I don’t know, though.” You look up at him again and your eyes are impossibly clear. Minutes ago they were cloudy and upset and confused, but now they hold only clarity of thought. “What if I didn’t have green eyes?”

There’s another unspoken question that Jisung can hear as clear as day.

Would I have grown up exactly like them?

Jisung can’t deny that you probably would have. That had it not been for all of the misfortune caused by your strange green eyes, you would have been a happy, but clueless and far less accepting villager than you are today.

In all likelihood, you probably never would have met him.

“Your eyes have more benefits than simply making you beautiful,” is all he replies. He thinks for a moment. “I haven’t experienced all your sorrow so perhaps you will think the opposite, but I think your green eyes have given you more fortune than misfortune in creating your character.”

You don’t smile. You only nod. But the deep gray clouds that envelop your head clear, bit by bit, until the last tear has dried on your face and your lips rest in a neutral line, instead of turned down at the tips.

If Jisung weren’t bound to the ring, he would hold your scarred hand tight, as tight as he could without hurting you, to give you some sort of comfort to anchor you to your Mother Earth. But since he can’t, he contents himself with the fact that he can see the shining glimmer he yearns to see returning to your beautiful eyes.

. . . . .

Some villages call it May Day. Others call it Earrach. A traveler once told you, far away in Gaul, they call it le Jour de Printemps.

Your village just calls it the spring festival. Simple, formal, traditional, just like your village’s relationship with your Mother Nature. She gives you the fertile earth with which to grow the crops you celebrate in fall, during harvest season.

Well, not you. Them. You haven’t gone to a spring or harvest festival in years.

The air around your little shack is even more silent than usual, with all the villagers gone to the square to celebrate the new planting season. Girls in their white and pink dresses, boys in their buttoned shirts and nicest pants. Every family, no matter how poor, owns a set of clothing to wear for the spring and harvest festivals. If they are too poor to make one themselves, a neighbor will pass over a hand-me-down, or even sew a new one.

You weren’t an exception, at first. If you looked carefully, you could probably find an old white rag or two that used to be a spring festival dress. But as you grew older, fewer villagers wanted to take notice of you, so you have no traditional spring gown to wear for today.

There is one set of nice clothes you sewed for yourself a few years back, however. It isn’t pure white for spring, nor pastel pink for fall. It’s pale blue. But the village weaver charged a price sky-high for the nice cloth he makes specially for the festivals (even though he sold it to the next mother for half the price he gave you), so you ended up with this instead.

Not that you can really complain. The fabric is soft and clean, if a bit dusty – a result of not having worn it in over a year – but you’ve taken care of it. For what reason, you never really knew.

Maybe Mother Nature was quietly preparing you for today. Nudging you to make a dress and preserve it so that you could look presentable on the first spring festival day in years that you are no longer alone.

Still, though, you’re not quite sure why you slip on the flowy blue dress that feels so comfortable against your skin. You don’t understand why you don’t put on another one of your rougher tunics, slip on the trousers that have grown a little loose against your thinning waist. You’re not sure why you find yourself running the wooden comb through your hair not just until it’s untangled but until it’s smooth, and you’re not sure why you braid some of it back from your face in a style you have seen some of the merchant girls wear.

Black slippers, still worn but not as tattered as your everyday boots, go on your feet to finish the look. The dress doesn’t fit very well – you’ve only gotten skinnier since you made it – and the shoes are a little too tight, but no matter. You have no mirror so you couldn’t try to primp even if you wanted to, so you take a deep breath and head into the woods, ignoring the faint music and cries of laughter in the distance. And when you walk into the clearing where the faerie ring lies, you don’t have to wait a second before he appears.

He calls you “my lady,” again, with that same flirty grin he wore the first day you met. You don’t know why those two words mean so much to you. At first, they meant nothing, really – they only served to make you smile a little bit because, well, that was Han. Han the fae. That was what he was – flirty, grinning, a distraction. A glowing light in the middle of a village of gray.

For the last few times you visited, he didn’t call you by your nickname. Maybe it was just the look on your face because you know you didn’t feel the best on those last few trips. In fact, most of them were spent in comfortable silence or murmured conversations. You haven’t heard your nickname in a while.

Now, those words feel like they mean so much more than they used to. His tone is still flirty, his lips still smiling his heart-shaped smile, but he looks warmer. Feels warmer.

And though you should never feel this way around a fae and their ring, you feel safe.

“Why the fancy dress, my lady?” Han asks, jolting you out of your thoughts. His grin has only grown wider – is it trembling? No, it can’t be, there’s no reason for him to do so – and he’s looking at you with eyes that have never sparkled this brightly before.

You open your mouth to respond before realizing you don’t have an answer. Why did you dress up, really? What was the point?

You opt for a simple response that doesn’t really answer the question. “It’s the spring festival.” You sit down on the grass, careful not to wrinkle your dress. “I wanted to dress up a little for once.”

Even as you say it, though, you know that’s not the full reason.

“You don’t usually dress up, then?” he asks, sitting down as well.

How do you answer that question without giving the truth away through your expression?

The answer: you don’t. In fact, you haven’t even spoken a word before Jisung’s grin turns into one of mischief. “So you dressed up for me!” he sings.

“What – no –” you splutter, desperately trying to keep up a façade of calm as your cheeks heat up. You deny it, even as his eyes crinkle into slits of joy and mischief, as he laughs and teases your attempts at hiding your embarrassment. But in the end, you have to give up. He will drag this on forever if you don’t.

And the more you think about it, he was part of the reason you wanted to look nice. For once in your life, you wanted to look beautiful for someone whom you cared about. For someone who might care about you.

For someone whom you want to care for you.

“In all seriousness, my lady,” Han says when the two of you have calmed, “you look enchanting. Even more so than usual.”

The gentle, heart-shaped smile he imparts to you makes your heart jump, and you feel warmer inside than you have in years.

. . . . .

A lull in the conversation occurs just after noon, when the village is so loud and joyful that you and Jisung can hear music and laughter from all the way up on your forested hill. Jisung takes the silence as an opportunity to gauge your true feelings today.

He knows you must feel at least some happiness. Your laugh and smile and snark and sarcasm have all been quite natural. However, as your eyes wander over to where the music is coming from, he notices a soft, sad, wistfulness that overtakes your expression, leaving a shadow of your previous joy in its wake.

Jisung knows enough about human customs that on festivals like this, they dance. Girls dress up in flowy frocks while boys put on their starched shirts and they whirl about, smiles and laughter abounding.

Your dress is a dance frock. Your slippers are dancing shoes. With a pang, he realizes you shouldn’t be here. You should be with friends, kicking up grass as a handsome boy or two or three spin you around in celebration.

“You know, if you want to dance, you could dance with me,” he says softly. Truly, today, he means no deceit. He hasn’t in a long while, in centuries, really, but today he wants you to know it and be sure of it. He wants you to know that he means no harm to you.

That he will never mean any harm to you.

Your eyes snap to him, gaze guarded and unreadable. He swallows but continues. “Come into the ring,” he proposes. “I promise I won’t hurt you.”

“You know as well as I do that a fae does not make a promise without expecting something in return.”

Jisung can tell you don’t mean to hurt him with this statement. After all, his brethren are not known to be the kindest of Mother Earth’s creatures. He himself used to be less than friendly. So he doesn’t take offense at your words and only notes the longing gaze you give the ring that speaks far more than your cool words.

Your words are true. A promise for a promise – that has always been the way of the fae. But Jisung doesn’t know what he could ask from you in return.

But he does. It’s always been at the back of his mind, he thinks, but he hasn’t allowed himself to dwell on that until now. There is something he wants – one thing, something beyond even his own freedom. Because he feels like if he has this thing you could give him, he would feel free even in the confines of his ring.

Promise me your love.

But he doesn’t say it. Many of his fellow fae delight in ruining love, in causing mischief and strife between couples, in raining heartbreak upon those foolish enough to fall. But his punishment has taught him the consequences of meddling with affairs of the heart. Centuries of being bound to the faerie ring have given him enough time to think and ponder and discuss such subjects with Chan, the wise forest guardian, Changbin, the quiet moon child, and even Hyunjin, the water nymph who used to loathe him.

Jisung will not interfere with love. If his experience with Hyunjin has taught him anything, it is that true love is just that – true. It cannot be coerced or threatened in or out of existence.

He is sure he feels true love for you. But a heart must be given, not taken, so he does not ask for yours.

“Then promise me your happiness,” he finally bargains. “Promise me that for the rest of today, you will laugh, that you will smile, and that it will all be real.”

“You request something easier said than done,” is your quiet reply. “Why not ask for something tangible? Something stronger, more powerful?”

“Are you saying there is something more powerful to me than a simple smile upon your face, my lady?” His lips curl slightly. “If you are asking me to be more selfish, believe me, this is my most selfish desire – to always see happiness upon your face. For your happiness brings me mine.”

Sunlight dazzles on your blue-clad figure, sparkling on your shining hair and face. As Jisung waits for your response, he can’t help but think that the broad daylight only heightens your earthly beauty.

You are no willowy, graceful moon child, it’s true. But you are a true child of the earth. Rooted, solid, steady, nurturing, loving.

And Jisung could think of nothing more perfect.

It’s a very slow smile that spreads across your lips, but as it does, Jisung thinks that perhaps it is the most beautiful smile of all.

“Then, Lord fae,” you begin quietly, “make your promise, and I will make mine.”

“I promise that I will allow no harm to come to you here from the moment you enter this ring,” he whispers, his breath nearly catching in his throat.

“And I promise to smile with only true happiness for the rest of this spring day.” Your green eyes shine.

Jisung holds out a hand, feeling his fingertips touch the invisible barrier that keeps him trapped within the faerie ring. Then he feels a different sensation, one he hasn’t felt in centuries – warm skin against his own.

The same slow smile remains upon your lips as you look up at him, fingers loosely grasping his own. And with the simple grace of a fluttering leaf, you step into the ring.

. . . . .

The year’s summer is not a kind one. Warm, humid heat rests heavy upon the village, and bugs fly everywhere. You live rather out of the way, so when you’re at home, you don’t get the full force of the bugs and illness, but when you go to the marketplace, you see the effects on the rest of the village.

Red bites littering tanned skin. Clammy sweat dripping into dazed eyes. The absence of a single cool breeze makes the heat almost unbearable as you quietly make your rounds.

Many shopkeepers are absent that day.

You expect what’s coming next. They will bar you from the marketplace in the hopes that keeping away the witch will keep away the sweltering symptoms of a sweaty summer and the dreaded summer sickness.

So the day comes when you are forced to turn away from the market – not that the handful of coins in your pocket would have bought much anyway – and head back home. Only this time, you don’t have to go as hungry as previous years. In the shady forest, you tell Jisung of your predicament, and though he looks a bit like he wants to make the villagers suffer, he only shows you a few places where you can gather wild, edible plants, so long as you thank the Mother Earth for them and leave enough to grow.

“They really think you are a witch?” Jisung asks quietly one hot afternoon, when even the shade of the forest isn’t enough to keep away the overwhelming heat of the day. You’re back at the faerie ring, a basket of fruit next to your figure lying prone on the ground. Sweat drips down your face and onto the grass, but when you look over, Jisung doesn’t even look warm. He looks the same as usual.

Once upon a time you might have been unnerved by how otherworldly he is. Upon first glance, he is perfect, almost unimaginably so. You remember the first day you saw him in the forest. If you’d been in your right mind, you might have bowed to him as a god.

Yet after so many conversations and walks and lazy afternoons, to you, he is human. He stutters. His mouth can’t keep up with his mind sometimes. He has flaws. And he looks like a human boy, a boy with whom you could easily fall in love. Deep brown eyes that always hold a twinkle of mischief. Heart-shaped lips that look so kissable. Round cheeks that you could squish all day.

There is no use in fighting it, really. You are in love with your Lord fae, and you can do nothing about it. Every day you see him feels like another step into his dizzying embrace, another step into his full heart.

You think you’ve been falling for him this whole time, really. Perhaps on that first day, when he showed up and saved you from the screech owl and labelled your eyes as “beautiful,” it was not yet love. Maybe a simple crush. But on the afternoon you came to the ring with puffy eyes and tearstained cheeks and he only teased and comforted you, you think your crush started turning into love.

He makes you feel safe. If he didn’t, why else would you keep coming to the ring? Why else would you have stepped into the ring, and danced with him with no music until sunset?

But he’s still a fae. Despite your love for him and everything he’s done for you, everything he’s promised you, you can’t help but still second-guess his true intentions. Fae are not known for their kindness – only their ability to exploit lies and their inability to break promises.

He’s never made a promise to you that he hasn’t kept, one half of your brain reminds you.

He’s only made a few promises to you, though, the other side reasons.

You nod to Han’s question, too hot and tired to do anything more.

“Do you want to know what a real witch is like?”

When you look up, his eyes are smiling with his lips, telling you that the grin is genuine. The knowledge of this only makes your lips curl until you’re smiling too, and the heat of the day falls away as you sit up to listen carefully.

Han tells you the lore behind witches, a race that rarely comes into the open. They do not fly on brooms or stir bubbling iron cauldrons filled with poisoned liquids, he says, but they do make potions and they do perform spells (in cauldrons of other metals, for iron burns magic). Just like humans, there are good witches and evil witches. The good ones often remain in hiding, posing as doctors and apothecarists, while the evil ones wreak their havoc. That, he tells you, is why humans have such twisted feelings about them.

“You are not a witch, my lady,” he concludes, looking over at you. The setting sun has tinted the sky pink and the light makes a pretty flush against Han’s skin. Your heart speeds up when you see the softness in his face. “Witches are born of at least one witch parent, and your parents are villagers. I sense no magic from you. So if they call you a witch again, know that they are the ignorant ones, not you.”

“You always know what to say to me, Han,” you murmur, ignoring the thumping in your chest. “Thank you.” The words rise to your lips before you can stop them. “I always feel safe with you.”

His hand lifts slightly as though to touch your face, but you are not inside the ring today – you haven’t entered since the day you danced with him. So his fingers lower, and even though you think it best for the two of you, you still ache for the feeling of his warm skin on yours. “Do you remember the promise I made you last spring festival?” he asks.

“You promised you wouldn’t hurt me when I entered your ring,” you reply, curious as to why he’s bringing that up now.

“Perhaps, but you do not remember my wording.” He smiles. “I promised you that I would allow no harm to come to you here from the moment you stepped into the ring.”

It takes your mind a few seconds to work through that. Then everything clicks. “You –”

“You will always be safe in the ring,” Han interrupts, his eyes shining with softness. “Always.”

You feel a tear bubble in your eye but you blink it away, hoping he doesn’t notice. “Thank you,” you whisper.

He smiles again. “Of course, my lady.”

. . . . .

As the days pass, as the heat gets worse, you finally tell him of the summer sickness. The sweats, the chills, the fevers that overtake the villagers in this hot, humid weather.

You don’t have the fever. Many times you have reassured Jisung that the sickness never touches you – you live too far away from the village to catch it from someone else. Anyway, they always kick you out of the marketplace at the beginning of summer, so you don’t have any chance to get it. Bugs don’t really touch your little hill either.

But the sickness still takes a toll on you. Perhaps you don’t grow ill, but Jisung can see the sick fear growing in your eyes, in your shortened visits to the forest. A new splotchy bruise appears on your leg and you tell him you tripped over a rock.

That’s a lie.

After he doesn’t see you for fourteen days straight, he sits you down when you finally return, voice trembling, and demands an explanation. He cares about you so much, he realizes, his heart can barely stand it. When you didn’t come day after day after day –

“My lady, I thought you were gone forever,” he chokes out, trying to keep the wobble out of his voice.

Your eyes immediately fill with guilt and sorrow and you bite your lip harshly, eyes downcast. “I’m sorry,” you whisper, words wavering.

“Just…” Jisung swallows. “Just tell me why. Did I do something? Or was it the village again?”

So you tell him. The summer sickness is worse this year, worse than any other year you’ve been alive. Four children have already died, as have two adults and one of the village elders. And the villagers need someone to blame it on.

Jisung wants to personally set fire to the entire village when he hears that. He can’t imagine how anyone could have the heart to look you in your strange, sharp, green eyes and say that you are the cause for an entire village’s troubles. That your lovely green eyes are the mark of a devil.

How narrow-minded could a person be to not see the beauty that lies in your character?

But he used to be the same way, he realizes with a jolt. Humans, to him, used to be mere playthings with no emotions, no lives, no meaning. They existed for his entertainment and that was all. Perhaps he did not see them as the cause for every single one of his troubles, but isn’t the thought the same? He didn’t see humans as real, living beings, just as the villagers don’t see you as one either.

He is glad he has changed. He hates the Jisung he used to be, but at least he has grown from that terrible prankster fae. He truly is glad he has changed.

He is glad he met you after he changed.

“So I couldn’t come over for a while,” you say, breaking into his thoughts. “I… I didn’t want them to have more reasons for thinking I’m a witch. It’s bad enough that I’ve never come down with the sickness. If I had, maybe they wouldn’t think I was the reason.”

Jisung wants to take your hand. He misses the feeling of your fingers intertwining with his. It made him feel safe. Cared for. Loved.

He settles for letting his fingertips touch the edge of the ring, pressing against the invisible barrier that keeps him from leaving. And after a few seconds, you place your hand down to touch your fingertips against his.

It is enough for now.

“Remember, my lady,” he whispers, refusing to look away from your eyes that always drag him in. “You’ll always be safe in the ring. No matter what.”

Even though you duck your head to nod and Jisung can’t see your green eyes, he knows that there are tears in them. He can see it in your slightly-trembling shoulders, in your fingers that shake against the steady earth.

And his heart aches for your troubles, hoping they will end soon.

. . . . .

The worst is always yet to come and you realize this as you’re sprinting, barefoot, over the forest floor. Your time in the village was never going to last. Sometime or another, a fuse was going to light the bomb created by your existence.

The fuse comes in the form of the fifth child’s death from summer sickness.

They came to your shack with old pitchforks and kitchen knives and rusted swords. You heard the shouts, saw the torches, and there were only two words echoing through your mind.

Run away.

You might’ve gotten away without them seeing if you hadn’t made so much noise wrestling through the bushes. On a normal day, the noise doesn’t matter because no one comes around here and you can trample over whatever you want. But it is night, the villagers are screaming bloody murder, and you don’t have time to worry about stealth.

When they reach the edge of the forest, their torches simply burn the bushes to the ground. Your head start is dwindling fast and you waste more of it as you stand at the edge of the forest, all of the warnings you’ve been given about the forest racing through your head. It may be safer during the day, you think, but what horrors lie in the dark of night? 

Then Han’s words, soft and clear and kind, push them all away.

“You will always be safe in the ring.”

His smile.

“Always.”

You steel yourself and dart into the trees.

Pure instinct fuels your body. You can’t see anything except for the faint glow of fire behind you and the farther away that is, the better. Trees materialize out of nowhere and their branches catch in your flying hair. Rough stones slice your feet. A small animal races past your feet and you have to stifle a scream. More than once a sinister presence lingers in the shadows as you fly past, but you cannot take the time to give into your terror.

Torchlight burns. Voices shout. The forest fills with fear – the villagers’ fear of you, your fear of them, nature’s fear of you all. You stumble over hidden rocks and bumps and bushes and all the time you’re wondering where is the ring? Why am I not there yet? Is this the right way?

But then you see the sparkle of the pond nearby, a pond you have seen so many times on walks with your fae (in his transparent form, of course). He’s told you many stories of the water nymph there. But today you don’t care about Hwang Hyunjin. His pond only serves as a marker. As something to show you your path.

The race uphill is nearly torture. Without your shoes – even the tattered ones – the hill feels so much rougher and stonier than it normally does. Even the bed of grass can’t fully disguise the sharp bumps that dig into your feet.

He isn’t in the ring. You didn’t expect him to be, not now, but for a moment, your mind flails wildly.

What if your fae doesn’t come?

A glance behind tells you the villagers are still chasing. A few are climbing up the hill. You have no choice.

“HAN!”

You jump into the ring.

For a moment, the ring is empty save for only you. The first villagers trample nearer but their steps grow slower and their howls of rage and fear turn to frightened shouts and whispers as they realize where they are. You lie in a heap on the ground, all heaving gasps and shaking limbs and trembling lips.

Then warm arms embrace you, pulling you close to a chest with a steady heartbeat that calms your erratic mind and breath. Han’s thumbs stroke smoothly, sweetly, on your skin, and the pent-up tears begin to escape your cursed eyes.

“You are safe,” he whispers in your ear. “In my ring, you will always be safe.”

Some foolish shout rings through the night and a pitchfork sails through the air. You instinctively start to cry out no, Han, watch out! –

With a single flick of a finger, the pitchfork falls to the ground outside the faerie ring, harmless. Silence again takes over the clearing.

“What is the meaning of this?” he hisses.

His words are ice cold. You have never heard this tone before.

“L-Lord fae, she has infected our village with the summer sickness,” a trembling voice says. “Surely you see –”

“Your children are infected with the festering hatred you have for all things strange,” he spits. “Her eyes have no weight on her character. She is no witch. She bears no blame for your village’s summer sickness.”

Silence, except for your ragged breaths.

“Do not touch her.” His hand strokes your hair gently, coaxing out the last silent tears, a contrast to the blades of his tone. “A lord will always protect his lady, no?”

. . . . .

You make no effort to leave the ring that night but even if you did, Jisung wouldn’t have let you go. Not after the fear he saw in the villagers’ eyes.

Fear is often more dangerous than anger, after all.

He does not sleep the entire night, only holds you close, even when your shaking sobs stop and you slump, asleep, against his chest, tears still rolling down your face. His heart breaks a little more every time he looks down at you.

If this is how I feel, Jisung wonders, how did Hyunjin survive? When his love was snatched away from him, never to walk the earth again?

A new wave of shame and respect for the water nymph washes over him every time such a thought comes to mind. For if Jisung feels so strongly about you being merely hurt, he cannot imagine what pain Hyunjin endured when he lost his lover.

No wonder Hyunjin loathed him so much for so long.

You wake with the dawn. Had it not been for the slight fluttering of your eyelashes, he wouldn’t have realized at all. For a brief, terrified moment, Jisung wonders if you will break away from him.

But you don’t. You don’t move closer, but you don’t move away. You don’t protest his hands stroking your hair rhythmically, only close your eyes and sigh a little.

“Thank you for yesterday,” you finally murmur. “I’m sorry I cause you so much trouble.”

Your green eyes open and they look tired. So, so tired.

Jisung wants to bring the life back to them.

“It was no trouble,” he replies. “It is never trouble to care for those you love.”

When your eyes startle, Jisung realizes what he’s said. He’s just confessed his love for you. Though he’s known it for weeks, the words leaving his lips still make him feel a strange vulnerability in your presence. But he doesn’t regret it.

“Those you love,” you echo quietly. Though there is a tiny smile on your face, your voice is sad. “How could a fae as powerful as you love a –”

“Stop.” Jisung can’t listen anymore. “Stop it.”

“But –”

“If there is anyone unworthy of your love,” Jisung interrupts, “it is me. Not the other way around.”

You remain quiet this time.

Jisung sighs. “I think it’s time I told you how I was bound to this ring.”

He tells his tale with hot shame and sorrow creeping up his cheeks and choking his throat. He tries his hardest to keep his voice steady but fails as he speaks of Hyunjin’s first love with the cloud nymph, the wisp of a girl who made him smile in ways Jisung had never seen before. Now that he knows the love that Hyunjin felt, it is so much more difficult to speak of it. To know that he ruined it.

He tells of the pesky sprites who goaded him into meddling with that love. With a heavy heart and hanging head, he reveals the prideful, selfish, despicable faerie he once was, one who could not back away from a dare and treated all of those around him as toys.

“We all knew Hyunjin and his nymph were fated to fall in love,” Jisung says. “It was just something we could see, plain as day. So the sprites dared me to play with fate. To end their love.”

Jisung doesn’t want to look at you. He can’t stomach the fact that you might be looking at him with disgust and shame, all of your previous lightheartedness with him gone. If you did, he wouldn’t be surprised – he deserves it.

But your grip on him doesn’t loosen. If anything, it tightens. Jisung finds the strength to go on.

He never meant it to go so far, he explains, as though that makes it better. He only wanted to break their love apart. He found a jealous, spurned suitor of the nymph and talked him into goading her to leave Hyunjin.

Instead, the suitor killed her. And the waters that raged through the forest for weeks after her death would have killed all the life there had Chan, the guardian, not called on Mother Earth to placate the water nymph’s anger and sent for the faerie queen to punish Jisung.

“That’s why I am bound to this ring,” Jisung says. “I am bound here until two things happen.”

“What are they?” you ask.

A small, genuine smile spreads across Jisung’s lips. “I first had to help Hyunjin find love again.”

A willow seed from Jisung’s esteemed collection. One of the seeds of the first willow that ever grew from Mother Earth’s mantle. It did not matter that the nymph who grew from the weeping willow that now drapes across Hyunjin’s pond was mute, that she could not speak. Her strength won Hyunjin’s heart. And after seven centuries, Hyunjin has forgiven Jisung.

“The second condition?” you prompt when Jisung falls silent.

Ah. He doesn’t want to tell you this one. He doesn’t want you to think that all of his love for you has been faked, has been solely for the purpose of attaining his freedom. But he will not lie to you.

“I had to find someone who, in the words of my faerie queen, would be foolish enough to love me,” he says.

With this admission, Jisung can practically hear the thoughts rolling around in your mind, bouncing off the walls of your skull and manifesting in doubt, uncertainty, and fear. “I know what you must be thinking,” he says hurriedly. “Did I only keep you around to break my curse? Truth be told, I didn’t think of that until several months ago, the day of the spring festival.” He laughs a little.

“At the start, never in my wildest dreams did I think I would fall for a human. But you were interesting. Clever. Intelligent. Your beautiful eyes may have caught my attention, but it was your soul and your mind that caught my heart. I wanted to keep talking to you.” He smiles. “On the day of the spring festival, I realized I loved you, my lady.”

Your fingers tighten around his.

“But it was I who loved you, and truly, I couldn’t think of a reason why you would love me.” His smile turns sad. “I found myself thinking of the curse and wondering, what would I do if you loved me back?” He swallows. “Do you remember our promise that day?”

By now, you’re looking into his eyes. Your gaze is a little unnerving, but Jisung forces himself to stare at you. “Yes,” you answer.

“I almost asked you to promise me your love,” he says, somber. “But by then, I knew that love must be a gift. I could not take it from you. So I asked for the next best thing – my lady’s happiness for just that day.”

Silence.

“After you left that night, I thought about my feelings. It took quite some time to sort through them all.” He smiles tentatively and his heart lightens when you smile back. “I realized that I didn’t care about my freedom. I wanted you to love me just because I loved you, even though I didn’t deserve you. I didn’t care about breaking the curse. I only wanted you to love me back.”

He’s done. He’s told you everything. His heart pounds as he waits for your response.

Will you leave him?

“Do you still want that?” your quiet voice says. “Do you still want me to love you?”

His heart is threatening to burst. He nods jerkily. “A thousand times, yes,” he whispers.

“I think I’ve loved you since the day I came to you, crying, and you asked no questions, only comforted me.” Your voice is low, quiet, small, but soothing. “I realized it the day of the festival, the same day as you. But I could never quite trust you, it felt like. You are a fae. I am a human. In my mind, I thought this could never happen.”

Jisung wants to protest but holds his tongue. This is your time to speak. He will not interrupt.

“But I trust you now.” Your shining, teary eyes look up at him with an emotion he’s never seen directed at him. He’s seen it on Hyunjin, looking at his willow nymph. He’s seen it on Changbin, gazing at his moon girl.

It hits him that you love him too.

“You’ve told me much, and there would be many who say you still do not deserve love, Han.” Your voice pulls him out of his thoughts. “But I think you have repented. I think you have learned. The fae I know is a far cry from the prideful one of centuries past. He has given me safety, comfort, hope, love.” A smile graces your lips. “I think I love him.” You shake your head. “No, I know I love him.”

You sit up with a wobbly smile on your lips and Jisung stares straight into your bright, lovely, green eyes, glowing with the rosy light of dawn. “May I?” he asks, his voice barely a whisper.

In return, you nod, and his lips fall onto yours.

Jisung has had many kisses over his millennia-long life, to the point where he once thought he couldn’t feel anything new anymore. But your lips are nothing like the ones he’s kissed before.

Chapped, dry, they shouldn’t give Jisung the bliss he feels. He’s kissed lips far smoother than yours. But it is not the lips he kisses, Jisung realizes, but the person to whom those lips belong.

A little sigh leaves your parted mouth and Jisung pulls you closer, holding you with the gentility of the morning breeze on his skin, pressing his lips to yours. An hour could have passed or even a day, and he would never know. He only knows the bliss he feels that moment.

Too soon, you both must break away for air. And even though tears still stain your cheeks and Jisung’s hair has been mussed by your hands, he has never felt so content in his life.

“Give me your name,” he whispers, pressing his forehead to yours. “Give me your name, my lady, and I promise I will do all there is in my power to keep you safe from harm. Give me your name, and I promise I will travel to the ends of the realms to keep you happy.”

Your thumbs stroke his cheeks and he leans into your touch, eyes fluttering in bliss. “Give me yours and I’ll give you mine.” A hint of that long-lost mischief dances in your eyes even as tears threaten again to fall down your face and Jisung wants to cry. He’s waited to see that expression on your face for too long. “I want to know you, Han. All of you.”

Hyunjin once told him that when he loved someone, he would feel no fear giving them his name. When he loved someone, he would trust that they would use his name only out of care. They would not toy with it. It would sound different in their mouth. It would sound safe.

At the time, he just cackled and made some dumb joke about how he definitely wasn’t Hyunjin’s love, then. The two had proceeded to drown the forest with their bickering until Chan came over to separate them.

But now, as he hears you repeat his name once, quietly, whispering it on your tongue, he knows what Hyunjin meant. His name is safe between your lips and yours is safe between his.

Jisung’s heart bursts.

He stands, pulling you up on shaky legs. For the first time in over a millennium, he steps out of the faerie ring, ready to leave the perfect circle of flowers and grass forever.

“Where does my lady wish to go?” he asks. His grin couldn’t get any wider.

Your smile is more enchanting today than it ever was, and your green eyes sparkle in the rising light of the sun.

“Anywhere, as long as it’s with you.”

#inkidz #stray kids #skz #stray kids scenarios #skz scenarios #han jisung scenarios #3racha #han #fluff #angst #triggers #violence #nature spirit!au #stray kids han scenarios #whispers of nature #bloom #scriptura-delirus

[girl-who-writes-stuff]

Make You Mine

I went to the beach last weekend to take some pictures and stumbled upon this boy who reminded me so much of young Remus Lupin. 

This photo inspired the one shot you have below. Hope you like it! 

Here’s the story on AO3. 

Remus stared at the ocean, blue and vast. It was August the thirtieth already, summer having passed far too quickly for his liking. He still hadn’t decided what to do about the Sirius situation…

They had left things quite rough at the end of term… Sirius had kissed him at the Quidditch Cup celebration party, but Remus was so surprised by it he hadn’t moved. At all. That had left Sirius with quite the bad impression, of course, apologizing and thinking he had misread the situation completely. Which he hadn’t. But Remus didn’t tell him that.

He was such an idiot.

He sighed and stared at the sea once again. It reminded him of Sirius, wild and free. He was kind of jealous, to be honest. He wished he could be more like him, express his feelings with ease, not fearing about the repercussions, no anxiety over what the others would think since he was so comfortable being himself.

He wanted to tell him about his feelings. He’d pinned for over 3 years and when the opportunity presented itself, he froze. But he’d had the time to think about it now. He couldn’t let Sirius do this. What could he offer him? He didn’t have a future, he wouldn’t be able to have a stable job, or money, he would have to live with his parents after school because he couldn’t afford anything else. It wasn’t fair to Sirius, he deserved someone better.

And that’s what he was going to tell him.

***

Remus’s heart was beating wildly. He’d been at the station for a good twenty minutes but still no sign of Sirius. Peter was already here, though and he wouldn’t shut up.

“And then my Dad took us to southern France, it was amazing, Remus! We stayed there for a couple of weeks, and then we…”

Remus tuned him out. He offered him a tight smile and looked around for any sign of black hair. Suddenly a hand clapped him on the back.

“Well, hello my fellow Marauders!” James smiled widely at him.

“Hello, Prongs” Remus smiled and hugged his friend.

James let go to hug Peter next and Remus was faced with Sirius, finally.

“Hey, Moony.” Sirius offered him a tight smile and Remus felt his heart sink.

“Hey, I want to…” Remus started but Sirius interrupted him, “We should get to the train, it’s almost time to leave” Sirius didn’t look at him, but grabbed his trunk and followed Peter and James, who were talking animatedly.

Remus sighed and followed them towards the train.

Once they were settled in their compartment, James started narrating his and Sirius’ summer adventures and Sirius pretty much pretended Remus wasn’t there. He couldn’t blame him really. He sighed, leaned against the window and closed his eyes.

He woke up a while after to an empty compartment. Just as he got up to go look for his friends the door opened, and Sirius came in.

“Oh, you’re awake” Sirius muttered under his breath.

“Yeah, no way to ignore me now, huh?” Remus replied a bit angry.

“I’m not avoiding you, Moony…” Sirius sighed.

Remus laughed bitterly.

“Isn’t that what you wanted anyway?!” Sirius raised his voice.

“No, you idiot! I wanted to talk to you!”

“Why, so you can reject me again!? So you can tell me how wrong I was about what happened? So I can be humiliat”

Remus stopped his rambling by pressing their lips together. Sirius froze for a second but kissed him back quickly. Sirius’ arms wrapped around his waist and Remus moaned a little into his mouth.

They heard laughs in the corridor and quickly jumped apart. Remus looked at the door as James and Peter entered the compartment, their hands full of different sweets.

“Hey, what’s up?” James asked looking between the two of them.  

Remus turned his eyes at Sirius. He was still looking at him, a hand on his lips and shock in his eyes.

“Um…” Remus tried to think of something to say but his brain wouldn’t cooperate.

“Remus wanted to go straighten his legs after his nap. We’ll be back in a bit” Sirius answered.

James raised an eyebrow but nodded. Peter was too busy eating Chocolate Frogs to listen. Sirius walked towards the door and looked at Remus expectantly.

“Right!”

Remus followed quickly.

Once in the corridor, Sirius muttered, “Let’s find an empty compartment, shall we?”

Remus nodded, his mind going a mile a minute. He had a plan! He had to tell Sirius how he felt about all this first, not just kiss him at the first opportunity! Damn it. But he looked so cute, all flustered and tall, and his shoulders had gotten broad over the summer… Stop it, Remus. Merlin.

Sirius stopped and opened a compartment, Remus followed. Once he’d closed the door, Sirius was on him, mouths fused together once again. Sirius grabbed him by the waist and pulled him closer, but Remus had to pull away.

“Wait, Sirius”

Sirius sighed and sat, looking at his hands. Remus felt the urge to take him in his arms but instead, sat down opposite him.

“Look Sirius… I really like you…” Remus started, and Sirius lifted his head, a sparkle in his eyes and a small smile on his lips.

“But…” Remus continued.

“Stop right there, Moony” Sirius said abruptly, “I know what you’re going to say. You’re going to tell me how I deserve someone who isn’t a monster, or something along those lines, am I right?” Sirius looked at him with sad eyes.

“I know you don’t believe I’m a monster, Sirius, but truth is I could hurt you, very much. And it’s not just about being a werewolf, it’s about how I can’t give you anything, at all. Do you know I won’t be able to have a job? That means zero money, Padfoot, it means…” Remus tried to make him understand.

“What you fail to see, Moony is that I don’t care. I don’t care. Do you really think I would care that you don’t have money when I practically swim in it? Or that you won’t have a job after school? Do you really think that I won’t help you, that James won’t help you, or Peter?” Sirius was trying not to raise his voice, but it was becoming quite difficult.

“I know that, but I don’t want to be a burden for you guys…” Remus replied.

“You are not a burden, Remus! You are our friend, and friends look out for each other.” Remus sighed and let his head fall onto his hands, perched on his knees. Sirius kneeled in front of him and placed a hand on his cheek,

“Moony, we love you, we all do. You would never be a burden. If there’s any way we can help, we will and gladly.”

Remus raised his head and looked into his eyes, “I wish you didn’t have to, though”

Sirius sighed, “I wish things were different for you, too. You don’t deserve the way they treat you, but you won’t be alone, okay? Ever. You’ll always have the Marauders.”

Remus laughed lightly, “Thank you, Sirius”

Sirius kissed his lips quickly and sat by his side. Remus laced their hands together.

“Do you really want to do this, Sirius?”

“Are you kidding? I’ve thought about this for quite a while, Moony” Sirius whispered.

“Really? When did you know?” Remus asked, curiously.

“Well, I’m not really sure... I’ve always thought you were interesting but never gave it a second thought, you know? And then, last year when that fifth year asked you out… Well, I got very jealous. And I couldn’t understand why so I talked to James…”

“Wait, you talked to James?! So, he knows about this?” Remus said surprised.

“Yeah… He’s my best mate, so I thought he could help me out.” Sirius answered raising an eyebrow.

“Of course, yeah, sorry. It’s just that, well… I’ve never told you guys that I fancy boys, too so…”

“Well, I haven’t figured out the details exactly, really… I just know I like you. A lot.” Sirius said, blushing a bit.

Remus grinned, “I like you a lot, too.”

Sirius grinned back, “So, do you want to do this then?”

“What does ‘this’ mean, exactly?” Remus teased.

“Ugh, Moony… You’re really going to make me say it?” Sirius rubbed his face, sighing.

“Yes, I am” Remus chuckled. “You know, I’ve been pinning all summer, you should really be putting the effort here” Sirius whined with a smile still on his lips.

“Oi! I’ve pinned for you, too, you know?!” Remus poke him.

“Oh, really? Huh, I rather like that image… You thinking of me, at night, alone in your bed…”

“Aaaaalright, stop it.” Remus blushed and Sirius barked a laugh.

“Moony, do you want to go out with me?” Sirius stared at him, his grey eyes sparkling.

“Let me think…” Remus teased, and Sirius crashed their lips fiercely.

“You’re such a tease, Moonbeam.” Sirius sighed when they came up for air.

“Oh no, you’re going to call me pet names?! This will never work” Remus turned his face, dramatically, a hand on his heart.

Sirius laughed and turned his head, so he looked him in the eyes, “Well?”

“I would love to date you, Sirius Black.”

And their lips met again.

#wolfstar #Sirius Black #Remus Lupin #wolfstar fluff #Marauders #hogwarts express #beach #ocean

[ibijau]

Ok, here's a prompt for you, should you choose to accept it, as a fellow angst connoisseur. I've been reading Impenetrable Walls by Gina3 which is a concubine AU, except so far Wei Ying has been too dumb to understand that his job as a concubine is to f*ck, but all the servants around him keep telling him to make sure Lan Wangji is happy or it's all their lives at stake. 1/2

2/2 Anyway, the prompt is this: imagine this scenario but with Xisang or Xiyao. Xichen is the emperor, he has spent his whole life being venerated and served and then he is gifted Huaisang/Meng Yao as a concubine and they both know they have no choice but to make the emperor happy no matter what. Xichen is convinced he's in a happy relationship and unaware that he has in fact been raping his partner this whole time, because there is no possible consent in this situation. The angst! Just imagine

Yes hi hello I, uh. Took this and ran with it, even though I have prompts left from the last ask meme and a bunch of fics that I should be updating and also actual work to do. But like. Fuck yeah. This is exactly the sort of awful, shitty, cruel settings that I love writing so bless you for sending me this.

It was a rare and pleasant day for His Highness when Nie Mingjue could take a break from the war on the frontier and visit the palace. On those too rare occasions, His Highness always allowed himself a break from protocole and tradition and, for a few hours, simply became Lan Xichen again. He had so few friends left since rising to power, but Nie Mingjue had never faltered once, never once treated him as a living divinity as others did, knowing it was not what Lan Xichen wanted from their friendship. It must have been a family trait.

As he walked toward his private quarters, Lan Xichen smiled to himself, certain that his dear little bird must be so happy to see his brother again after many months. Nie Huaisang always smiled so brightly after those rare visits, while teasing Lan Xichen with a renewed insolence that always deligthed him. It would be so nice to have his two closest, most beloved people with him at once, however briefly, and Lan Xichen couldn't wait to surprise them. He shouldn't not have been free for them until a little while longer, but on a whim he had cancelled a council. There was little point in being emperor if he could not get away with something selfish here and there.

As he entered the little house he'd ordered to be built for Nie Huaisang, Lan Xichen heard his little bird chatting with his brother and stopped for a moment, suddenly feeling guilty for taking away the siblings' precious chance for a private discussion. Although Nie Huaisang rarely complained about anything, Lan Xichen knew that his little bird missed home dearly sometimes. No amount of presents and coddling could change that, and while the two of them were so happy together, a lover simply wasn't a brother.

As he hesitated though, Lan Xichen quickly noticed that something appeared to be off with his little bird. His voice, usually so soft and full of laughter, was uncharacteristically dry as he chatted with his brother.

“With Wen Xu dead, that bastard Wen Ruohan won't manage much longer,” he heard his little bird say, the violence of the words half shocking Lan Xichen. “His first born was a good general, whereas the second one... Is Wen Zhuliu still serving them?”

“For now,” Nie Mingjue replied flatly, apparently undisturbed to hear his delicate little brother comment on war affairs. “We're working on turning him. Lord Jiang's wife knew him when he was young, so we're having her make offers to take him in if he switches sides. You were right though, he is stupidly loyal.”

“You probably won't get him,” Nie Huiasang agreed, “but Wen Ruohan will hear about those offers and he won't trust him as much... and that means he'll have to rely on his idiotic second son instead. If Wen Chao is put in charge of their southern army, the war is as good as won for us. Can you imagine? Peace again!”

“But at what cost?”

A silence fell between the brothers. Out of curiosity, Lan Xichen came closer to get a look at them without being seen himself. An emperor ought not to have hidden, least of all inside his own palace, his own home, but something about that conversation was making him increasingly uncomfortable.

When they were alone, Nie Huaisang never wanted to talk about politics, pouting and complaining that he never understood anything of it. To hear him give his opinion about the border wars with such certainty was... unsettling.

And so he looked at his little bird and his dearest friend, sitting together at a table. Nie Mingjue was in a more comfortable position than he usually allowed himself in presence of the emperor, though there was a clear tension to his shoulders. As for Nie Huaisang, although he was wearing the same delicate and colourful robes as always while his hair was done up in an elegant bun decorated with elaborate pins, he seemed like a stranger, sitting not like the poised boy Lan Xichen knew and adored, but instead with no more grace than a soldier resting after a battle.

“Peace always comes at a price,” Nie Huaisang pointed out, rolling his eyes. “This one isn't so bad.”

“Are you going to tell me you're happy with your life?” Nie Mingjue scoffed. “That you're satisfied with being the emperor's whore?”

“Of course not,” Nie Huaisang sighed with a grimace. “Still, to defeat the Wens... it's not such a big price to pay. I don't blame father. He saw his chance to finally make me be useful to the clan, how could he not have taken it?”

A twisted, piercing cold seized Lan Xichen, making it near impossible to breathe. He had wanted to come out of his hiding place and order Nie Mingjue out of their home at hearing him call his own brother a whore, only to feel slapped in the face at his little bird's response.

It made no sense. Nie Huaisang was happy. Of course he was happy. Lan Xichen made sure to give him everything he could ever want, robes of expensive silk, beautiful fans painted by the greatest masters, all his favourite dishes served daily... he had even started construction on an aviary for him, so he could gift him rare and exotic birds. Nie Huaisang was happy. He said so often, made it clear through his actions, always enjoying seducing Lan Xichen as soon as they could be alone.

They were happy and in love.

They had been happy and in love since the first time they had laid eyes on each other at a banquet and Nie Huaisang, not realising who was in front of him, had chatting with him and teased him over wearing badly coordinated robes. By some great luck, Nie Huaisang had been sent to work in the imperial palace soon after and Lan Xichen had not lost a moment in pursuing that chance of friendship. It had soon turned into something more intimate, with Nie Huaisang being officially named his concubine so there could be no accusations of impropriety.

“I'm going to take you back home someday,” Nie Mingjue grunted. “The day father dies, I'll ask to have you back, I swear.”

“Don't be stupid,” Nie Huaisang retorted. “You think His Highness will let me go? I'm stuck here for life, or until someone else finds him a prettier boy to play with. And that's impossible, we both know I am, and by far, the prettiest boy in the entire country. Possibly the world even. Ah, it's a curse to be so beautiful.”

“Huaisang!”

Something shifted in Nie Huaisang's eyes. He slumped on the table, reaching out to take his brother's hand and holding it tight.

“I swear it's not so bad,” he sighed. “He's nice. He's doing his best to be nice. Please don't worry about me, and don't... don't do anything reckless on my behalf. I chose this. I agreed to this. He asked me if I wanted to be his concubine, and I said yes.”

“Could you have said no?”

Instead of answer Nie Huaisang laughed in such a broken way that Lan Xichen felt nauseous. Of course his little bird could have denied that request. Lan Xichen had even told him so when he had asked for this, reminded him that even his friendship was enough to make him happy.

Nie Huaisang could have said no.

Nie Huaisang should have said no.

“Can you imagine what father would have said?” Lan Xichen heard his little bird say in a bitter voice that no longer sounded like his. “MingMing, we needed His Highness's support. We have it. There's nothing more to be said about this, so let's drop that subject. I'm... I'm really not so bad off in here, just a little lonely. I hope when the war is won, you can come more often. You're my only link to the outside world, so do your job. Give me news. How are the Jiang kids? And Wei Wuxian?”

“Lord Jiang gave him a command at last,” Nie Mingjue announced. “And the young Lady Jiang is to be married to young Lord Jin after all. The ceremony will be held in three months.”

Immediately, Nie Huaisang sat up straighter and smiled so brightly that it rivalled the sun.

“Really? Oh, that's so great!” He exclaimed, half laughing. “They'll be perfect for each other, I'm so glad it worked out after all! Tell me what happened?”

Seeing him so happy for the friends he often swore he did not miss was the last drop for Lan Xichen. It was obvious, now, how insincere his little bird's smiles had been when directed at him, how fake his joy, how forced his laughs. And so, while Nie Mingjue told his brother about a happy couple figuring out their path to happiness, Lan Xichen mourned the loss of his own and quietly retreated from this little house where, for the last three years, he had been fed lie after lie.

He had freed his afternoon for the purpose of his two dear friends' company, but it would be easy to find some task or other that needed his attention. An emperor's work was never done. 

And work, once more, was all he had.

#xisang #nie huaisang #lan xichen #mo dao zu shi #concubine au #jau writes #given half a chance I will absolutely write more on this #for the record I'd say the spark at their first meeting was sincere #but then politics happened and nhs had to play along to help his clan's needs #thehobbitbadger

[dailyaudiobible]

09/24/2021 DAB Transcript

Isaiah 43:14-45:10, Ephesians 3:1-21, Psalm 68:1-18, Proverbs 24:1-2

Today is the 24th day of September, welcome to the Daily Audio Bible. I am Brian, it is great to be here with you today as we continue our journey around the sun and through the Bible and we have worked our way all the way, well, we’re kind of in the last quarter I guess, of the book of Isaiah and we’re also working our way through the letter to the Ephesians. So, let's dive in today Isaiah chapter 43 verse 14 through 45 verse 10.

Commentary:

Okay, so I have mentioned that Ephesians, at least as I read it, it's like an ever upward climb to these higher vistas to see further, to see further horizons, to see more and understand more. And it’s not like Paul’s saying in this letter like, things it he hasn't said in other ways, but he's in prison and he is writing this passionately. This vision of what's really going on here, and if we just meditate on it. If we just take it in slowly. It is so huge. So, Paul is talking about revelations that he has received, mysteries that he is received, that have previously been unrevealed and I quote “this mystery is that in Christ Jesus, the Gentiles are fellow heirs, members of the same body, and people who also share in the promise through the gospel.” Well so, previously the understanding that Paul had as a Pharisee is that the Jews are the exclusive people and that's what they think but this revelation, this mystery that has been revealed to Paul that he is preaching, well that touches all of us because most of us are Gentiles. And so, for Paul to say that the mystery that’s been revealed is that through Christ, Gentiles and Jews are fellow heirs, members of the same body, people who share in the same promise through the gospel. What Paul is saying is that this is available to everybody in the world which is huge and for me, a Gentile a overwhelming flow of gratitude. Paul goes on, as if to answer a question like, why would God do that, why, why would He welcome everybody in the world, and I quote Paul again “He did this so that through the church, the multifaceted wisdom of God might now be made known to the rulers and authorities in the heavenly places. This was done according to the eternal purpose that He accomplished in Christ Jesus our Lord.” Okay, that's pretty cosmic in its implications. This is saying God, in his goodness and offering you eternal life, opening a way, welcoming you home. This makes His wisdom known and we are like a living witness, a living display to the unseen realms, that is huge to contemplate. That is a massive vista to just understand that we are all part of something way bigger than…than we ever pay attention to. Paul says because of all of that, because of this gift and because of what it's doing, in Jesus, we can freely approach God with confidence, through faith in Him. We could say yes, this is a theological formula I’ve known for a very long time but think about that. We can freely approach God, the most high God, with confidence through faith in Him. Let's try to live into this today. Let's try to contemplate, consider, meditate upon, allow it to sink in. Even Paul seems blown away. Even as he is writing it down and he gives kind of a benediction here at the end of our reading and so, let's just let this benediction wash over us as we bask in the goodness of God.

Prayer:

For this reason, I kneel before the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, from whom the entire family in heaven and on earth receives its name. I pray that, according to the riches of His glory, He would strengthen you with power through His Spirit in your inner self, so that Christ may dwell in your hearts through faith. Then, being rooted and grounded in love, I pray that you would be able to comprehend, along with all the saints, how wide and long and high and deep His love is, and that you would be able to know the love of Christ that surpasses knowledge, so that you may be filled to all the fullness of God. Now to Him, who is able, according to the power that is at work within us, to do infinitely more than we can ask or imagine, to Him be the glory in the church and in Christ Jesus throughout all generations, forever and ever! Amen.

Announcements:

dailyaudiobible.com is home base. That is the website, and it is how you get connected and find out what's going on around here. So certainly, check it out. If you’re using the app you can access these things by pushing the drawer icon in the upper left-hand corner of the app screen in there or on the web, you’ll find the Community section. In the Community section you’ll find different links to the social media channels that the Daily Audio Bible participates in. You will also find the Prayer Wall which is always on and never off and always available. You can always request prayer on the Prayer Wall. You can also, you know, kind of glance through and see where the Spirit may be leading you to pray and pray for your brothers and sisters who are also going through things and give them a word of encouragement. It means so much to know you’re not carrying it alone; it means so much to know that somebody is praying for you and it's a beautiful thing. It's truly a beautiful thing to know that somebody that you may never actually get to meet in person is praying for you by name because we’re the family of God. So, if you haven't ever visited the Prayer Wall, please be aware it's in the Community section either on the app or at the website, so check it out.

If you want to partner with the Daily Audio Bible, thank you humbly, humbly for your partnership. There is a link on the homepage at dailyaudiobible.com. If you are using the Daily Audio Bible app you can press the Give button in the upper right-hand corner or the mailing address is P.O. Box 1996 Springhill, Tennessee 37174.

And as always, if you have a prayer request or encouragement, you can hit the Hotline button in the app, that's the little red button up at the top break or you can dial 877-942-4253.

And that's it for today. I’m Brian, I love you and I'll be waiting for you here tomorrow.

Prayer and Encouragements:

Hi, Daily Audio Bible, my name is New Eyes and I’m from Chattanooga, Tennessee and I’m calling in for the first time because I was really moved by some prayer requests the other day and I wanted to lift some folks up here in our community. First of all, I would like to thank the Lord for Trent and his encouragement to all of us to be thankful for what we have, I know I definitely need that and I want to lift up Vicki from Southern California and Tammy, who is in remission from ovarian cancer. I really want to lift you ladies up to the Lord, for how much you are just laying at the foot of the cross and trusting God to give you peace in such a hard time. And, I also want to pray for Giovanni whose whole family is sick with the coronavirus. Lord, just bring Your healing, bring Your Holy Spirit and touch Giovanni and his family in this long, frustrating battle with this virus and I just ask that You would bless him. And family, it's my first time calling in and I could really use some prayers this week as I'm sending my 18-year-old son to a youth with a mission discipleship training school in Hawaii and he’s gonna be gone for six months and it's his first time away from home and I'm so excited for him but it's also really hard for this mama. So, if you could lift him up just send him blessings and prayers for an amazing time. I really love this community. You guys are an incredible blessing. Thank you for praying. Keep it up.

Hello Daily Audio family. My name is Sharon I'm calling to ask for prayer for my daughter, Sharon. She's been told she needs open-heart surgery, she's really, we’re really afraid. Each time we speak to a doctor we’re afraid and she starts crying and I start crying. I'm asking that you pray that, pray, send prayers for us that we can get through this situation and come out whole on the other side. I pray with her and I know that God can do all things and I prayed that He will give us the strength, first and foremost, that she doesn't need the surgery and that we will get a second opinion. We just need prayer right now family. Thank you.

Hello my DAB family this is Minnesota Aruka Regina. I haven't talked to you in a while, just want to tell you how much I love you and care about each and every one of you. On September 21st Danielle, I thank you so much for giving us an update on that 19-year-old girl Lord, it just really made me kind of cry and I want to lift her up in prayer. Loving Father, I just am so grateful for You being there for this young 19-year-old gal who was adopted…abducted and violated Father. Thank You for seeing her and for being faithful to find Your precious lost sheep. Lord, I just pray right now that You please speak love into her traumatic soul where she's been hurt and crushed and bruised Lord. I pray that You just reach her heart, let her know that You cried with her in those days that she was gone and it hurts Your spirit. But You were already making a plan for her and You are now helping her. Lord, I pray that You heal her. Let her know that You love her and You care about her and You are a God that can restore Lord. Bring someone into her life that can…can help her to be able to process everything and to break all of the bonds of this troubled man. May she not feel guilty and shameful for what is happening. It's not her fault. Help her to forgive. Help her to learn to love and to be loved again. We give You all the glory and honor in the name of the Father and the Son. Amen.

Hey DAB fam this is Laura in Eugene. I just want to call and lift up Val in Vegas in prayer. Heavenly Father, Lord, I just lift Val up to You, I pray for strength and courage as she recovers from her recent surgery. Lord, I pray for her medical team as decisions for what happens next are coming and I pray that You would help Val to rest in Your peace and Your comfort and Your care, that she could just feel that peace that passes all comprehension Lord. I pray that You would continue to be with her and guide her through this hard time but I’m just so grateful that she’s moving forward and getting the care that she needs Lord. Father, just keep watch over her. Thank You. In Jesus name I pray. Amen.

Hi my name is Maggie Mae and I’m calling in certain dyer straights. My whole family, I just found out my whole family is sick. My three grandchildren, my son. My grandson has got a fever of 105, they don’t know what is wrong with him. He’s only two years old. My older grandson who’s 17 he’s sick with RSV, they said that they don’t know, I don’t even know what that is. My granddaughter is so sick, the only one that’s not sick is the mother. I am beside myself with my grandson who is so, so sick. He’s so sick he’s burning. I pray the blood of Jesus over Armanie over Arianna over Marc Anthony. He just lost his father. I pray for my son Marc Anthony. They’re not saved. Please, God don’t take my family. Please, God don’t take my family. Please, oh please, don’t take my family. Please. Thank you, I’m sorry for the emotions but I feel so hopeless. I feel so hopeless. Please pray for them. Please take care of Dominic, Arrianna and Marc Anthony. Please, thank you.