#i was gone for over a week and you may be thinking wow river you must be really far in that game you've been playing about gates

[tremendum]

ok but Apocalypse by Cigarettes After Sex is so Joel and a younger reader coded.... ugh I just Love Him So Much

wow yes <33 i totally agree with u anon ugh i love that song esp this time of year.... you inspired me! thank u! def recommend listening to this song its so lovely

rating: mature. not nsfw but my blog is 18+ so mdni.       word count: 1.9k  warnings: not much tbh. mentions of alcohol, insecure Joel, soft!Joel <3, unestablished relationship, age gap (Joel is unspecified older), brief mention of Joel accidentally hitting reader in self defense, touch starved joel tbh, reader has a sister thats like it.

masterlist Joel fics: pretty little thing personal lies i've got headaches... Mr. Miller Series fever landmines

Joel hears his name echo as swinging arms plunge down below him, a splash following right after.

a strike of fear pangs through his chest, though he hides it with a glare when Ellie tugs excitedly on his sleeve. "did you see that?" she asks, brows raised. he scowls in response, squinting down to make sure your bobbing body still has all the pieces.

you smile up at him, waving and shouting something that he misses.

his shoes crush over the dust that riddles the crumbling bridge he stands on, the cerulean river calm below. your body is plastered with your wet clothes when, minutes later, you pant up to the two of them with a grin and a cut hand. "the rocks are slippery down there."

Joel stares at you now, jaw clenched slightly at the memory from weeks ago. he'd rolled his eyes then - hadn't spoken to you for the rest of the day, too angry with the recklessness of your leap off the drop, the once-tall cityscape behind you turned to dust by years of turmoil and failed humanity.

and noticing his irritation, for the rest of the day you'd stayed behind him, not trying to speak to him again. instead you whispered with Ellie, sharing secrets like you were high schoolers. when Ellie fell sleep with her head in your lap that night, you'd whispered to him, told him you were sorry. that you hadn't meant to upset him.

he'd pretended to be asleep.

but now, you're the one asleep - body curled slightly, his jacket pulled over you like a blanket as your fist curls around the necklace you'd never taken off. the same one that held a locket your sister had given you - the one you talk about all the time, the one you'd tried to get Joel to try on once.

when you'd tried that, he'd snapped for you to keep your hands away from him. so Ellie had tried it on instead, and you told her it looked very pretty.

guilt seems to find him a lot at night.

your face, illuminated by the moonlight through the grimy windows of the building you'd scouted, is too peaceful, too serene. he has to look away.

something about you settles a very deep melancholy that he cannot understand.

you shift slightly, brows furrowing in that look you get when you're upset or angry or scared - it looks disheartening when you're asleep. he stares with intent, hand on his gun.

he knew you'd wanted to leave before he'd even asked. he'd seen the agony, the confusion, the sadness in your eyes every time he packed up to leave the QZ without you by his side - such a strange reaction from a neighbor.

a neighbor who used to show up every day without fail to try and convince him and Tess to let you in on their jobs. a neighbor who would, instead, wait with a med kit for him to return the next day or the next week.

even in the QZ, he thought of you often.

he'd watch you with your friends, spinning in your own world. it would strike him with a deep longing; the beauty you exude is one that, until meeting you, he'd thought was gone from the world.

you've got music laced in you, in your eyes, your smile, your arms; though you have no reason to. you've lost everything, you keep losing everything, and yet, against all odds, you keep so much life within you that he thinks you may one day burst. something about it hurts his chest.

when he met you, he thought you were naive. a young girl on her own in the Boston QZ, hoping to make extra money smuggling but never being taken seriously.

you never even made it out of the zone until you snuck out after them. Tess had found you first - his heart pangs and he shakes his head, staring at the spot that had bruised on your cheek from when you'd snuck up on them silently and paid for it with the butt of his gun.

and you'd laughed it off, like it was funny. you'd joked about it, teasing him as the purple turned to yellow. all while he stayed awake for nights, staring at the bruise while you slept, his chest heavy and his throat tight.

you've got that piece of life that nobody else has, and he cannot understand it. he doesn't think he ever will.

despite his best efforts, he'd gotten to know you. Tess had liked you. Ellie likes you. he likes you, too. he loves you.

he could tell early on that, for whatever reason, you care about him. now, he wonders if you might even love him too.

he doesn't understand why.

you were well loved back in Boston. he'd seen it - in the hidden basements of bars, the shadows that walked you back to your apartment across from his at night, the same shadows that snuck from your apartments in the morning daybreak.

he'd tried not to stare out the peephole at the frames of lovers you'd taken as they kissed your forehead, hesitating in your doorway before leaving.

he'd seen handfuls of friends wrapped in your arms in the streets, wide smiles and bright cheeks.

there were nights where your friends didn't come around, and you were alone. those were his favorite nights, because you'd invite him over. even when he said no, it still gave him a warm feeling when you'd nod and mutter, next time, then.

you'd been making your own bottles of grain alcohol somehow - you'd invited him to a glass and once he finally took you up on it after months of asking, he'd seen how you'd been hiding them in the hollowed out piano that crumbled in the corner of your tiny apartment.

sitting on the piano bench, you'd told him that you had been in the QZ since you were around Ellie's age - when your sister had left for somewhere in the mountainous West; the two of you had been locked inside this crumbled city forever, she was ready to leave. but you had been scared - too young to travel - and you just couldn't find it in you to say goodbye.

she'd left without you the next day.

that was the night he learned that you played piano, too.

you've still got the music in you, and he doesn't understand why.

he's worried about you.

or maybe, he's worried about himself.

days after you'd jumped from that bridge, the scream of his name from your lips a song of its own, you'd snuck them all across a river.

there had been people tracking you; Joel had kept a tight grip on his shotgun the entire hour, eyes sharp as he'd stared at the woods behind you all, Ellie in the middle, you in front, with your own gun drawn and a stare so strong it'd made his head skip.

you wanted to erase your tracks - but the river current was strong, rising with the snowmelt as you took several steps in. you'd saved them both from the currents and built a strong fire once the threat was cleared and you were miles away.

he'd worried about the curve of your lips, the smile that graced you while he and Ellie were grim and cold. he'd worried about the warmth that your laugh had given his chest.

the fire that night was warm, but you still rolled closer to Joel when you slept. he'd let you. and when he woke up that next morning while you were on watch, he'd found that in his fitful rest, he'd stretched his hand out, towards where you sat. his hand splayed on your calf while your other leg was bent, housing your chin.

you'd just smiled gently down at him when he'd moved his hand quickly, his eyes sheepish. you'd let him.

"Joel?" your voice is very soft. even back in the QZ when he was in bed, your voice would come out and haunt him.

I know you want me.

it takes him a second to register that you've woken up from your sleep and slid up next to him. your thigh is warm where it touches him, but he doesn't dare look down. instead, he sets the gun down, turning to stare at your face.

your eyes are bleary from sleep, your hair tousled. you're so pretty it hurts.

his throat feels dry. "hey." he doesn't mean for his voice to come out that gentle. sometimes, when it's you and him, it just does.

guilt surrounds him as your hand slides over his thigh, burning warm, comfortable. how could something so beautiful exist in such a world? it makes him nervous.

you make him nervous.

"what are you thinking?" you ask. he knows you - knows that's your way of checking on him. you do that, just as he does to you. are you feeling alone?

he shakes his head, "lots of things I shouldn't be." he says honestly, his eyes searching the depths of yours. but you're good to me.. so good to me.

you're not scared of him like you ought to be.

you shrug, "tell me."

he doesn't see the reason to lie anymore; you've been haunting him for too long. and he's been hiding himself from you.

"just don't know why you're with me. with us. here." but he can't bring himself to finish his thoughts - because you, despite it all, loved your life before you left it. because you had lovers, you had friends your age, a life. you were so much safer without me. because you have that music in you, and it's still there despite it all. despite me.

you shift next to him, your cheek falling to his shoulder. he doesn't feel the urge to shake you off like he used to - that feeling melted away months ago, shortly after the desire to put his lips on yours burned in his soul.

"I just think you underestimate how much you mean to me." you say, eyes full of too much light.

he sees that music again; the unrelented spirit in your cheeks when you smile. the laughter that hasn't left you even when you left your old life behind for him and a girl you didn't know. tell me why, tell me why.

he doesn't know what to say, but his head turns gently to place a kiss to the crown of your head.

he nearly feels sick at the implications of such an action, but you just sidle up closer to him, your hand squeezing his thigh gently. he turns to look at you and you move off his shoulder, lifting your own eyes to meet his.

his breath catches in his throat as you look up at him, love and trust in your eyes. the locket glints in his peripheral as he stares down at your glowing, beautiful face.

your lips, my lips.

he intends to kiss your forehead - the way he'd seen all those lovers do months ago, back in Boston. the way he'd always ached to.

but you meet him halfway, and suddenly your warmth is on him.

it spreads from his lips and grows through his body - a beautiful, melancholic hum that sings along his veins. you are soft, you are pliant, strong, loving.

everything he doesn't deserve.

and yet you kiss him and you let your hand fall to his jaw, tilting yourself to feel more of him. he doesn't understand why, but maybe that's okay.

he kisses you back softly, then desperately.

your lips and his, something so kind, full of life. something that doesn't belong in such an apocalypse.

something he couldn't live without.

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(once again begging) send more requests! for Joel and Din! taglist: @satansgoatt @elissaaa @queerponcho @bbyanarchist @lapricot @umavvitch @asreadbyaj @dinsbaby @cottoncandytomu @switchbladedreamz @missannwinchester @abs-2020 @afandomidiot @cosm1c-babe @rogersbarnesxx @carleenphillips-blog @bonnibuckets @nightlovechild @jazzyspasms @girlboybug @cannolighost @pastelnap @userpedros @feministfanboi @frogers @grhowls @daddy-din @gothoppered @totallynotastanacc @robbatlover @casssiopeiaaa @wannab-urs @redhotkitchen @joelapologist2001 @silkiers @alltheseperfectimperfections @whorror-s @scarletthefierce @worhols @hearthrooob

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#joel miller x reader smut #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #the last of us (tv) #the last of us smut #the last of us #joel tlou smut #joel miller #joel x reader #joel smut #joel tlou #joel taglist 🏷️

[skzsauce01]

Shoot Your Shot! No, Not Like That!

Synopsis: You have had a crush on Felix for years and now have the perfect plan to tell him. Or, make the plan, execute the plan, expect the plan to go off the rails, throw away the plan.

Warning: mentions and uses of weapons

Word Count: 3.1k

Pairing: son of Apollo!Felix x child of Athena!reader

Camp Half-Blood AU Masterlist

You have a very simple way of dealing with crushes: you don’t. You push them to the back of your mind, let it fester until it becomes all you can focus on before inevitably dying out in favor of a new topic of fixation, and let it come back to haunt you years later. This is the current case with Felix, your crush of two summers. He didn’t even do anything particularly noteworthy to impress you; all he did was make a bad haiku about you as a dare—“Your smile is nice / That’s a cool pen you got there / Wow, you’re good at math”—and thirteen year old you was gone. Shot out of the sky like one of those mechanical birds used for archery practice.

He shouldn’t have this effect on you. Him and his sunny disposition, his boisterous laugh, his stupid, pretty face—what is it about that combination that makes you weak? Yesterday, he bumped into you after the campfire sing along, and your crush came back at full force when he patted your shoulder in apology. Now you can’t think or concentrate on anything, and everyone has noticed. Most of them write it off as typical demigod ADHD, but your siblings and friends know better. Seungmin is astute and witnessed your restlessness years ago when your crush on Felix came to light, so he feels obligated to confront you about it now.

Under the guise of making a strategy for next week’s Capture the Flag game, the two of you meet in the forest, a neutral location and a place where no eavesdropping campers will be.

“Just ask him out,” Seungmin suggests. “If he agrees, then good. If he rejects, then you have closure. What’s there to lose?”

“Easy for you to say when you’re not the one doing it,” you mutter. You step over a pile of leaves that covers up a trap you set up yesterday for Capture the Flag. “Gods, crushes are annoying.”

Love is irrational and illogical, so it makes sense that a crush would be too. Unfortunately, being rational and logical is your entire skillset. Confessing your feelings to Felix, especially when he’s more of a stranger than a friend, will not do. You need to get closer to him so it’s less weird, but doing so may exacerbate your symptoms. Therefore, you need to get on his radar but maintain a healthy distance from him. But how?

“It’s one question: ‘do you or do you not like me?’ Or, ‘do you want to go on a date with me?’” Seungmin continues, counting on his fingers. He lists a few more, and when you don’t respond, he asks, “Do I have to do this for you?

“No! I can handle it. I just need a foolproof plan.”

“Yes, it’s called ‘just tell him already.’ Shoot your shot. Take a leap of faith. Make an offering to Aphrodite, if you want, I don’t know.”

You shake your head. “I can’t wait until you develop a crush on someone. Then you’ll understand, and I’ll laugh at your pain.”

Shoot your shot. As you walk along the river with Seungmin, who is still giving bad advice, you notice all of the broken arrows on the ground and the arrows sticking out of tree trunks. Apollo’s Cabin nearly wiped out half of your team yesterday, and Felix led the charge with his specialized bow. You were on look-out duty, so you got to watch with your binoculars in real time as he easily took out the defenses by Demeter’s Cabin with a firecracker arrow and the river guards with precise shots. Shoot your shot, indeed.

“I got it,” you announce.

“You’re gonna tell him?”

“No, I’m gonna learn how to use a bow.”

Later, as you draw up plans for how to successfully attract Felix, Seungmin keeps reiterating that “this is not what he meant by ‘shoot your shot.’” You ignore him and select a basic wooden bow from the armory. When you first arrived at camp, you took a few archery lessons with Chiron but ultimately decided that you preferred using a sword and shield like your mother. You’re sure that you’ve retained some of your skills though. The point is not necessarily to impress him but to get him familiar enough with you that you feel comfortable telling him that you look for him everywhere you go, hoping that he’ll come over and say hello and the two of you will suddenly start going to museums together.

The intentions behind the plan are a mess, but the plan itself is fine though rather simplistic. Seungmin thinks otherwise, but his ideas aren’t great either.

The next morning, you march to the archery field with a full quiver and a goal to hit at least one bullseye, preferably while Felix is here. No one is here yet, so you practice holding your bow and try to figure out how to properly aim. The targets feel too far away, and the arrows seem to always land on the outer rings. Bows need scopes, you grumble to yourself, as you go over to pick up all of your used arrows, most of which are on the floor. Chiron soon comes with a group of campers for his lessons, and you decide to join them as well, seeing as your self-training isn’t working.

A few members of Apollo’s Cabin, identified by their precise and accurate shots and their overall confidence, observe the beginners’ group with some happiness. Not many people outside of their cabin choose to take up a bow. Felix isn’t with them, and he doesn’t show up by the end of the lesson either. Your arms shake, and your muscles are so tense that you think they’ll stay in place forever. As you stretch, you survey the people trickling onto the field. Where is he?

“How’s it going?”

You flinch and sigh when you recognize Seungmin’s smirking voice. “Gods, you scared me. It’s going fine. It’s phase one.”

“Really? ‘Cause I saw him at the lake and thought you might want to know.”

You stop stretching and sling your bow over your still-tight shoulder. “We’re going canoeing.”

Despite your scheme to go there only for Felix and even with Seungmin begging you the entire time to row up to Felix, canoeing is actually pretty fun until Seungmin purposely tries to flip the canoe over.

“If you’re gonna go through all the rom-com tropes for this plan, you might as well try the drowning-resuscitation one,” he explains after you splash him with a paddle in annoyance. “What? Chan’s with him, so it’s not like you would’ve drowned anyway.

“The goal is to get Felix, not Chan, to notice me. You’re horrible,” you declare and then nearly drop your paddle in the water. “Gods, he’s coming.”

In order to pretend that you haven’t been glancing at Felix for the past ten minutes, you proceed to spout facts about the respiratory system to Seungmin, who luckily plays along and is telling you about capillaries by the time Felix approaches.

“Hey, you okay?” he asks, and your whole face grows unpleasantly warm when he tilts his head to get a better view of you. “You almost tipped over.”

“We’re good, thanks,” you reply, pasting on what you hope is a nonchalant smile. Phase one didn’t go as anticipated, so it’s now time to skip to phase two, introductions. “You’re Felix, right? Your archery’s great.”

Behind you, Seungmin groans but says nothing else. He does wave hello to Chan though.

Meanwhile, Felix excitedly nods. “Yeah, nice to finally meet you. You’re the one who made the motion trap last week, right? Ah, I lost almost half of my arrows to that! It was genius, taking them from midair and using them against us.”

That trap was a pain to design, and you cut your leg while testing it out with Hephaestus’ Cabin, but it was well worth it since your team won Capture the Flag and since phase two is going extraordinarily well. You chat with him about how you designed the arrow dispensing mechanism, and he shares some archery techniques when you admit that you aren’t the best at it. While Chan has excused himself from the conversation by saying that the naiads in the lake want to talk to him about something, Seungmin has no other option than to sit and listen. You’ll make it up to him somehow. The initial plan is no longer going to happen because you aren’t going to be able to keep your distance from Felix anymore. He’s magnetic like the sun, and he’s pulled you into his orbit. When he offers to give you lessons, you gleefully accept.

You gratefully do one night of kitchen patrol for Seungmin as thanks.

The following afternoon, you meet Felix at the archery field. You’ve brought your basic bow and basic arrows with you, and they look measly compared to the heavy, black bow Felix has with him. His arrows look just as intimidating. However, Felix himself is not even remotely close. Throughout the lesson, he’s kind and thoughtful, directing you on how to release the arrow from the string and the different styles of shooting.

“Yours has a scope,” you say in surprise. In the midst of learning and trying not to panic when he comes close, you didn’t look at his bow with much scrutiny. “No wonder why it’s easy for you.”

He laughs, making you flush. “Wanna try? It’s a lot different from what you’re doing.”

“Bring it on.”

He hands you his bow, and you immediately understand what he means. It’s heavier, and the frame is bulkier because of its attachments. It doesn’t feel right when you shoot it, almost too easy to draw back the string and not enough estimation required with the scope, which probably explains why Felix was able to land accurate shot after shot onto your Capture the Flag team without hurting himself. When you release, the arrow glides through the air and sinks into the target. Not a bullseye though. You give it back to him immediately afterwards. He covets it, you’re certain.

“Pretty good,” he remarks. “How did it feel, better or worse?”

“I’m not used to it, but it’s a lot more powerful than I expected.”

Then he starts discussing the intricacies of bows. While you’ve been using a longbow the entire time, his is a compound bow and allows for more power and accuracy because of the cams, circular discs on the ends that allow for easier full draw. As he continues talking, you begin to study his bow more and wonder if you could design something similar or possibly better. Intellectual interest aside, this could be phase three: you’ll keep contact with him by updating him with your design process. You mention the idea to Felix, and he seems thrilled to learn that he could help you test it out. The rest of the afternoon is filled with Felix very excitedly giving you more information and you running your ideas through him. The likelihood of you creating a bow better than what he has is probably none, but at least it’ll be fun.

As per usual, you rope Seungmin into this project, and while he’s also enjoying the research, he still thinks you should just tell Felix at this point.

“It’s been two days. I need more rapport than just two days,” you protest as you flip through a physics book. “It’d be weird if someone you knew for two days told you they liked you.”

“Your situation is different. How long are you gonna keep this up?”

“I don’t know,” you admit. You thought you would wait at least a month, but you counted on small interactions and not ones like this. “When we’re done with this, I guess?”

“So in about three days? You’ve got a one-track mind.”

He’s right, and you don’t want him to be. Instead of retorting something nonsensical back, you flip the page and pick up your pencil. Your sketchbook is blank, and your mind is buzzing both with thoughts of bows and Felix.

As it turns out, Seungmin’s prediction is wrong by a day. You and Seungmin design quickly, Hephaestus’ Cabin builds quickly, and Felix tests quickly. He’s there for every modification, and you soon realize that this is becoming a custom piece for him. Though Felix has made no indication that he actually wants it, all your feedback is from him, which is not the way to make products but this plan was never about that in the first place.

Felix shows off the latest version, firing three arrows in a row at the moving targets on the other end of the field. In the sun, he’s golden. Maybe it’s Apollo blessing him, but his form looks incredible, and his mastery of the weapon shines through as he kills the bronze birds flying through the air. This is the best he’s ever looked. This is it.

Seungmin knows it too, and he whispers, “How are you gonna do it?”

“With lots of stammering and maybe a rehearsed speech.”

“You have no idea, do you?”

“I thought I had more time to figure it out!”

Before he can reply, Felix begins to make his way back to you and Seungmin to report his observations, and you feign a neutral expression. You already know what his findings are, so you’re dreading the moment he declares that it’s perfect. When he does say it, Seungmin celebrates like this project was something unbelievably difficult to solve, whooping and cheering and yelling uncharacteristically loudly. You join in in a more moderate volume to keep up the act. What are you going to do? Do you give him the bow? You’re not even sure if he wants it when he has one already. Your thoughts are muddled enough, and your brain officially stops working when Felix hugs you in celebration.

To Seungmin’s chagrin, you let Felix leave the field empty-handed and confession-less. You just hold the golden bow in your hands and stare at it as you attempt to formulate the next steps. If you don’t tell him soon, whatever momentum the two of you had will be lost and Seungmin may hunt you down with this glorious weapon as well.

“After the campfire,” you promise. Your heart is pounding even just thinking about it. “I’ll find him afterward and tell him then. If I come back to the cabin quietly, don’t ask me how it went.”

That softens Seungmin. Maybe it didn’t occur to him that rejection was actually a viable option. “Let’s write you a speech.”

During the sing along, you can’t focus on anything. You nestle yourself between your siblings, hoping that their rational and logical presences will calm you down, but your voice wavers on every tenth syllable of the song. Seungmin, who is sitting beside you, is singing louder than usual to cover for you. Although he was an absolute pain to deal with these last few days, he’s been an amazing brother to you. When the guitars and the singing stop, Chiron bids everyone good night.

You pick up the compound bow at your feet and try to spot Felix in the crowd of tired campers. If he leaves before you can find him, you’ll be in trouble. Fortunately, there’s a traffic jam near the exit path, so you weave through the groups until you see his head. He’s talking to one of his sisters, laughing at something she said.

“Felix!” you call, waving your arm to get his attention. “Felix!”

He hears you and meets you halfway. There are still people around, and you want them gone for this.

“Hey, what’s up?” he says. He nods at the bow. “You’ve been practicing with it?”

“No, it’s for you actually. I wanted you to have it because…” The speech, the speech, the speech. How did it begin? “Because it’s been a lot of fun working on it with you. I learned so much about archery and bow construction from you, and I appreciated you taking time out of your day to help me.”

Why does it sound so stiff? You swear it sounded better six hours ago.

“I also wanted you to know that I believe you’re really sweet and—”

Seungmin, why did you insist on reasoning? Past you, why did you agree? This isn’t an essay.

Eyes on the floor, you groan and hold out the bow to Felix. “I like you, alright? I’ve had a crush on you for years, and I didn’t know how to tell you, so here we are. I hope you like the bow at least.”

After a moment of silence, Felix says, “I was supposed to write you a new haiku for this moment.”

Your head snaps back up. “What do you mean?”

He’s smiling, but you have no clue whether it’s a cruel one or not. You’ve never known him to be malicious, but you’ve only really known him for four days.

“Sorry if it’s bad, but: Thank you for the bow / I’ve liked you for two years now / Let’s go canoeing?”

Two years ago was when he recited that first haiku to you, so he’s had a crush on you for the same amount of time as you have had him. Was the haiku the catalyst for him as well?

When you ask, he shakes his head and gently pries the bow from your tight grip. “You probably don’t remember this, but you came to the infirmary for some healing after you broke your arm. I was in the room that day, and I overheard you talking about bones and bloody noses, and I thought you were really smart and your smile was nice because no one usually smiles when they get hurt, but you did.”

You have a vague memory of that day, mostly of your swollen arm. “Oh.”

“I was too scared to tell you all this time, and then you suddenly came up to me and I thought it was the perfect chance. You beat me to it.”

You laugh. “Well, I didn’t tell you because I thought it would be weird since we didn’t know each other that well.”

“So canoeing?” he asks with a wide smile. “We can finally get to know each other.”

Your face is pleasantly warm when you reply, “Canoeing. I’ll meet you at the lake at one? We can walk there together after lunch.”

“Sounds good to me.”

Ten minutes later, you walk into Athena’s Cabin with a date for tomorrow and an unrestrained scream.

#stray kids #skz #felix #lee felix #lee yongbok #stray kids imagines #skz imagines #felix imagines #lee felix imagines #stray kids x reader #skz x reader #felix x reader #lee felix x reader #stray kids scenarios #skz scenarios #felix scenarios #lee felix scenarios #stray kids fluff #skz fluff #felix fluff #lee felix fluff #stray kids au #skz au #pjo au #demigod au #camp half blood au #20220811

[golden-wingseos]

from him, the sun - baizhu

featuring —

✧ baizhu x gn!reader

warnings ―

✧ written before baizhu's release (is he ever going to get released??)

notes ―

✧ e

synopsis ―

✧ for a seasoned adventurer like you, getting injured was a phenomenon all-too common. determined to escape from bubu pharmacy, it seems things didn't go as planned... because you were caught.

“Today, I will escape.” You thought with a determined expression, fists clenched as you peeked out the door of your confinement room.

Baizhu—the head of Bubu Pharmacy—was very used to your visits. So much so, that he had a day in the week reserved for you solely because you had managed to get injured so much.

Was it a skill? Definitely. For a high-caliber adventurer like you, getting injured so often was only a trademark of how cool you were.

Was it an opportunity to get to know the handsome-yet-mysterious owner of the Pharmacy? Yes. Though, you had made no advances.

But now! Now, you’ve had enough! Baizhu had told you to stay put in your room so you could ‘heal’ or whatever— but that’s lame!

Hearing no footsteps and seeing no people, you had concluded: Wow. They’re finally gone. Even Qiqi had remembered enough to not let you worsen your leg injury, so she was definitely off limits.

Taking a single step out into the lobby, you glanced around once more, the sharp smell of herbs stinging your nose and lungs as they seemed to pierce your dull senses.

“I’m free!” You exclaimed, speedwalking (so your leg wouldn’t act up) straight out of the pharmacy. You may not be from Mondstadt— but damn! Bless Barbatos! Let the Wind Lead!

“Is that so?”

You ignored that voice. Nope! You were most definitely free!

Of course, that was until a hand reached out— grabbing the back of your collar and refraining you from taking any more steps out and towards the light.

Holding you firmly like a dog by a collar, you didn’t bother to turn around to see who your captor was. Seriously, even though the man holding you like an animal was supposed to be ‘fragile’ and ‘frail’, there was absolutely nothing frail about him!

“Ah hah… ayeee…” Averting your eyes from his own golden ones, the kind smile on the male’s face indicated that he had already anticipated your sudden patriotic ‘escape’ before you had even thought of it.

Damn intelligent men.

“Is your leg feeling better?” Baizhu settled you lightly on the floor, side-eyeing you just in case you’d decide to make a break for it again.

“Yes, very much so. It’s so much better that I feel like I can go outside and ru—”

“Hm… it seems to still be swelling. Hold on for a moment, I’ll get you some ointment.” Not falling for your obvious lie, Baizhu began sorting through some bottles on the counter behind the reception desk, complicated names and texts scribbled across their lids.

“Here, hold still,” Gesturing for you to sit atop the desk, Baizhu began to roll the hem of your pants up, taking the ointment across his fingertips and smearing it on the swell of your shin.

“Oh, it feels better!” You exclaimed in awe, about to flail your leg around if it weren’t for the warm hand resting on your knee, signaling you to stop whatever dumb move you were about to do.

“Now, you should go back to your room. We wouldn’t want you getting more injured in futile attempts to run off into the sunset.” Smiling innocently, you swore there was a hint of cheekiness in that delicate face of his.

“Eh?” You gasped, stumbling once Baizhu ushered you back into the treatment room, your figure visibly deflating as you tried convincing the pharmacist otherwise.

“Please? Please? Can I just watch you play with your drugs or something? WHY? I don’t want to go back! It’s boring!” Whining like a toddler, Baizhu could merely sigh at your antics before abruptly stopping, pausing you alongside him.

“Okay. Just make sure not to strain yourself, alright?”

“HUH? Baizhu caring about me?! Since when?!”

“. . . I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

[❦]

It seems that fateful interaction was what led you to be sitting in the very corner of Baizhu’s herb room, watching him sort through different kinds of leaves as if they were the most interesting thing in the world.

I think I’ll get intoxicated by just sitting in here, covering your nose in an attempt to shield yourself from the pungent smell of just vegetation and weird materials. It was no surprise that the ever-observant Baizhu noticed your change in posture.

“You don’t have to sit here and watch, go get some rest.” The male turned over to you, hands dusted with all shades of colors thanks to the items he was handling just earlier.

“No, it’s okay. What you’re doing looks interesting.” Overcoming the smell, you quickly stood up, shuffling over to the empty spot beside the pharmacist.

“Would you like to learn about the different kinds of remedial herbs?” He queried nonchalantly. Yet at that moment, you swore Baizhu was one of the prettiest— if not the prettiest thing you have ever seen.

His pale green hair reflected in the light like a mirror, rays of pinks and yellows appearing in his hair as if pixie dust had been sprinkled all over it. Then your eyes trailed down to his neck, which did not host the pearl white snake you had grown so accustomed to.

Strange, yet gorgeous. Baizhu was perhaps a specimen, an enigma in the galaxy that you have yet to figure out. Like Venus, all you could do was admire from afar, hoping that he’d notice you in the sea of millions.

And perhaps in this moment, he did. He gazed at you generously, fondly, even. Like a moonflower untouched by mankind, you quickly averted your eyes from that same generous gaze— worried that your heart may explode at this rate.

Maybe, Baizhu was like the sun. Untouchable and bright, a being you saw every day yet hardly knew much about you. And you— you were the sunflower. Prospering under his care and touch, this brief interaction of silent observation would certainly be one that’d remain timeless.

“... Sure.” Snapping out of your trance, you quickly turned away from him. Your ears felt hot, heart thumping in your chest so fast you were worried your rib cage couldn’t contain the organ anymore.

Feigning obliviousness to your dazed expression, Baizhu began picking up different types of herbs, listing their names so fluently you wondered if it was another language you were yet to learn.

Foreign names like chamomile and feverfew popped up, ginseng and ginger being familiar to your ears because Mr. Zhongli from the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor oftentimes made tea out of such herbs. Perhaps you should thank the amber-eyed man later for being so knowledgeable in teas.

“[Name]?” The pharmacist paused, using this brief moment to look at you, “are you okay? You don’t have to listen, you can even go walk around the harbor if you want.”

The idea was tempting, like a dream turning into a reality. Yet something was pulling you back, like the Earth and the Sun. Maybe, just maybe you were Icarus. Baizhu was so close yet so far, and you only wanted to inch higher and higher, burning those wings made of wax in the process.

No. A more ideal comparison would be of the rainbow bird— or was it? You couldn’t tell. Tempting like a golden apple during a race for love, tantalizing like wafting food in front of a starving man.

But today. Today, you will take your chance.

“It’s alright. I’d rather be here with you anyways,” your voice dipped into a whisper, like a river running dry or a bird’s call being silenced mid-scream.

Was this alright? Was it alright to backpedal on an opportunity you had yearned for for so long?

You swore you caught the faintest of red tipped onto Baizhu’s ears. Yes, he was definitely still the ever-enigmatic sun you had assumed of him originally,

But now— maybe you were just a little bit closer than before, though unlike Icarus— you had already fallen long before the sun could burn your wings.

#baizhu x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin scenarios #genshin oneshots #genshin headcanons #genshin impact oneshots #genshin impact scenarios #genshin baizhu #baizhu #baizhu genshin impact #genshin impact headcanons

[sailorshadzter]

Prompt: Joffrey reveals himself to be a monster to her towards the start of the stay at Winterfell .Knowing that her parents cant reject the match between herself and the Crown Prince without repercussions,she stages a kidnapping and slips herself into the group heading to the Wall. Maybe she cuts off her hair/dyes her hair/steals some of Brans clothes.Kinda like a Mulan AU I guess?

OOOOOH WOW

this is one of those asks that i have to scroll for a minute to get to!!! but i got to it!!! IM SORRY ITS TAKEN ME SO VERY LONG but inspiration strikes when it strikes. anyways, i might come out with a part 2 / dont tempt me to make this into another au i never finish but man the idea is GOOD.

anyways

i hope it was worth the wait.

As the night begins to dawn, Sansa Stark finds it hard to keep both feet on the ground.

She's lovestruck, falling hard for the golden haired Baratheon prince that's been put before her. With his charming good looks and regal posture, he's enough to make any maiden's heart flutter. In truth, even now with Joffrey and his parents, the King and Queen of the Iron Throne there in her own home, she's finding it hard to believe that she, she, of all people, will be the one to marry the prince. That someday she might be a queen as beautiful as his mother, Cersei Lannister, who smiles so sweetly whenever they meet, who speaks so tenderly, who upon after the betrothal was made official, calls her daughter, as if she so truly were.

"Come my lady, let us take one last walk." It's Joffrey now, bending over his arm in a bow as he approaches where she sits among the other young ladies of Winterfell. They erupt in giggles around her as she blushes to the roots of her hair but nods all the same, reaching out her hand to take his, allowing him to help her up onto her feet. Though she glances towards her mother, who sits engaged in conversation with her father and the King himself, Joffrey tugs on her hand and she can do nothing else besides follow after him. She knows it's inappropriate for her and the prince to sneak off alone like this, but she can't help but to excitedly wonder if he means only to steal her away for a private kiss. Besides, they are to be married in only a few short weeks, so what harm would it do?

They walk together out into the moonlit night, a surprising chill to the air that sends a shiver down her spine. If Joffrey notices, he does not speak on it, rather he continues to lead her through the courtyard where only a handful of guards and nobility mingle. It was astonishing just how many people came along with the King and his family and Sansa isn't certain there would ever be a way to remember all of their names. Along the back, they step into the gardens, the darkening sky pierced by the soft white light of the moon. "I will miss the moonlight of the North," she says as they fall to a stop before the brimming fountain, her lips curving with a smile. "But I suppose I will love it all the more whenever we return."

At her words, Joffrey turns, his expression not one she's seen before. It's not confusion, but rather, it looks like anger. No, it is something far beyond anger, and it frightens her down to her very core. Startled, Sansa begins to stammer an apology, but Joffrey silences her with a wave of his hand. "Return?" He scoffs, looking from her back towards Winterfell and back again. "We'll not be returning here once we leave," he goes on, shaking his head with a scathing sort of laugh that is far more chilling than the wind had been.

"Y-your pardon, I only meant... When we visit..."

"Did you not hear me, my lady... Once we leave here in two days, we shall not be returning. Not you and certainly not me. You will be my queen and you will stay South, where you belong." A strange feeling is creeping up within her; it's cold, it's deep, and it's so very dark. There is something about the way Joffrey says this that she knows it to be true. She realizes then, quite suddenly, that if she leaves with him as intended, she will never again return to Winterfell. She swallows. This isn't right, she thinks, he musn't mean it.

"I know the North is not entirely to your pleasure, but it is my home... I can't imagine never returning," she smiles, hoping her easy going tone is not lost to the shaking of her voice. "You may even grow to enjoy it here, if you give it a chance..." To her horror, Joffrey's hands shoot up and for a single instance, she thinks he means to strike her, but rather he takes hold of her by the upper arms, his grip like a vice. "M-my lord, you're h-hurting me," she whimpers, staring up into Joffrey's blazing eyes.

He leans in close to her, as close as he might have done for the kiss she had once hoped he'd bestow upon her, and breathes a simple reply. "Bid your home farewell, sweetheart, for we ride south in the morning." His grip lessens and then, he lets go entirely, taking a single step back from where she stands. The morning? She thinks, these words sinking in, realizing now that though she'd been told it would be another day before leaving... Evidently, someone had decided that there was no need to stay another night and no one had chosen to tell her. She wonders if this is cruelty on Joffrey's part or kindness of her parents, hoping to spare her the pain of knowing it was her last night home. Either way, it matters not, because she knows there's no way she can go South.

Not ever.

[ x x x ]

As she lays in bed, Sansa can do little else but stare at the ceiling above her bed and wish to be someone else. If she were anybody else, she would not be marrying the prince, and she would not be leaving home. Sansa had tried to explain her feelings to her mother, who had merely laughed and said it was nervous jitters. I had them, too, before I married your father, Cat Stark had said as she brushed out her daughter's hair for bed one last time. The next time she brushed this head of hair, it would be for her wedding day. The longer she spent with her mother that evening, the more Sansa realized she could not simply back out of this wedding. Sansa was not a stupid girl, though Arya might have argued differently, and she knew of the trouble brewing between the families. Between the kingdoms. She's overheard enough whispers and listened to enough speculation between her brothers to know that war was a very real possibility- some said only the good friendship between the Baratheon king and their father was what kept them safe. Sansa also knows, even just from the words spoken during their betrothal, that her marriage with Joffrey solidified the peace between them.

And yet...

The longer she thinks about it, the more she knows that despite it all, she cannot ride South. She knows of the stories, the ones of what happens to Stark men that go to King's Landing... What was stopping something terrible from happening to her as well? There had to be a way, there just had to be a way to free her from this wedding and ultimately, the prison King's Landing was certain to be.

It's just as she's resigning herself to her misery that something comes to her.

One of the stories she had read as a young girl, a story of a princess taken in the dead of night by an evil lord. Said princess was to be rescued by her true love, a shining knight of virtue that rides in on his white horse. And more is coming- it's not just her that is to leave on the morrow- but Jon, as well. Jon, her bastard brother, was being sent to the wall to join the Knight's Watch. He certainly would not be her knight, but if she could somehow slip in among him and the others heading out... Yes, it might possibly work.

But if it's going to work, she must work fast, as she knows the men are set to leave before morning light. And so she leaps from her bed and pulls on her dressing robe. It is late into the night, hours still from the morning call, but there is always the fear of a guard or even her father discovering her out of bed at such an hour. But she says a silent prayer to the Old Gods and then tiptoes from her room.

[ x x x ]

When the morning call comes, she's already gone, a single note hastily scratched in writing she hopes looks entirely unlike her own penmanship.

She's been gone well over an hour by then, for just as she had planned, she manages to slip away among those leaving for the Knight's Watch. With an old cloak draped over her shoulders, she keeps the hood up, shielding from those around her the red hair she's so well known for. Before leaving, she managed to snag some old breeches and shirt from the laundry, and she's braided her hair and tucked it up as much as she could. Luckily for her, she's mostly ignored by the other men, aside from one man who growls at her when she bumps into him halfway into the morning that first day.

The group walks for hours; far longer than she's certainly ever walked at one time. She's tired and she's hungry and she hurts in places she's never hurt before. But, there is a strange sense of warmth comes over her as she settles into a place of her own, away from the others, nearer to the river that runs through the forest. With no knowledge of how to build a fire, Sansa is thankful for the warmth of the summer night and hungry as she is, realizes she's far more tired than anything else. After a sleepless night and endless walking, she will forgo food if only it means she can sleep.

And so she wanders closer to the water's edge, where there beneath the canopy of darkness, she finally lowers her hood.

From where he watches, Jon finds himself intrigued by what he sees.

He can't really say what draws him to follow the hooded figure out to the river beyond simple curioisity. But now as he watches, he sees hands pulling what certainly must be pins from hair and to his shock, long hair comes tumbling down. Now he's really curious.

And just then, a cloud above them shifts and the moonlight illuminates her.

The red hair is vibrant, the pale moonlight weaving between the strands like ribbons. He's stunned, but his foot snaps a twig all the same. When she whips around, it's steel blue eyes he finds himself staring into and Jon wonders, despite sixteen years beneath the same roof as her, he's never noticed that look within her eyes. "Sansa..." Her name is on his lips before he can stop it and he realizes now that she is quite like a deer in the crosshairs, a creature torn between fight and flight.

She can't believe this.

Her fleeting sense of safety has fled, vanished into the night the moment those Stark gray eyes settled upon her. Of course, she can't now understand how she ever expected to avoid Jon forever, but she had hoped to at least be further out than this when they did meet. "Jon," she greets, taking a step away from the river and closer to where he stands. The moonlight is bright and it illuminates Jon in a way that makes her blink, makes her think. "Please..." It's the only plea she can offer, the only words that in this moment, seem right to say.

Jon studies her for a long moment; all things considered, she must have had a good reason to come. Sansa Stark wasn't the type to just... Throw it all away without a reason. Her dream of marriage to a prince was to come true, after all. Her golden haired Prince Joffrey had arrived in Winterfell only days before; a smug, ugly sort of kid that had grown tall, taller than even Robb, but one that had stolen Sansa's heart all the same. Jon wonders what could have made her do what she'd done. "I won't," he promises suddenly, earnestly.

Her face relaxes, she smiles.

She feels safe once again and it is far warmer than it was before.

#jonsa #actuallyjonsa #ask box prompts #i really could write more for this #my writing

[featherfur]

Big Knife Meet Little Blind Ch.1

Xue Yang meets A-Qing before he meets Xiao Xingchen and decides he needs a disciple. Somehow he ends up with a kid, a heart, and an absolute mess of a cultivation world.

Warnings: Gore, Blood, Murder, Questionable Child Rearing, Xue Yang and A-Qing's potty mouth, Xue Yang isn't a good person and needs to get there, will eventually be SongXiaoXue, this is for fun and updates will be sporadic if at all so read at your own risk

The timeline's a little wonky to make it fit better. Xue Yang is 15 and A-Qing meets him at 4 around the time that Wei Wuxian dies. This is a mix of MDZS Novel and The Untamed, mostly the MDZS Novel but I'll take some liberties and cross over.

Read me on: AO3. Chapter Two

There were a lot of moments in Xue Yang’s life where he could look back on and go wow that was fucking stupid. Not that he would ever admit to that and, being fifteen, would absolutely not learn from his past mistakes. Unless it was to kill someone a little better, but that’s not the point.

The point is that Xue Yang managed to acquire a four year old child and he wasn’t thinking about how much of a responsibility that was, so much as he was wondering how long a child had to wait before they could hold a sword. The man who had helped Xue Yang cultivate a golden core a few years back had always chattered on and on about how you needed a young disciple so they’d never listen to anyone else.

That was probably good advice considering Xue Yang had killed him when he turned thirteen for being a general pain in the ass. (If anyone remembered the wild child who had flung themselves forward with a sword to kill the old man after watching him kick a child under the wheels of a cart, they were already dead or had the sense not to bring it up after watching only one person walk out of the scene alive.)

A-Qing was a quiet thing, usually. She’d managed to swindle Xue Yang out of a few coins by pleading about being blind and starving while wearing ragged clothing to sell it better, only to get caught a few minutes later when she ran directly to him to hide from whoever she’d stolen from. Xue Yang was impressed with her almost immediately and simply carried her off with the promise of dinner.

Xue Yang did not have a soft spot for abandoned kids, they weren’t his problem obviously. He did however have an incessant need to have things and he wanted a disciple. One that would be loyal to him and him only. It wasn’t like that was hard to do, people were so eager to give themselves over to someone else. Even the old man had been easy to fool into believing anything Xue Yang had said.

So there he was, fifteen, with a round-faced and probably feral four year old on his knee devouring a loaf of bread, and he finally realized that it may have been a stupid decision. He didn’t actually want to raise a child, what did one even do with a kid?

He was vaguely certain that you had to feed and water them but what else? Train them to sit and stay?

He probably should have taken his chances with someone a little older, around eight or so, so he could just hand them a sword and that would be all.

Then again, he realized with one hand moving to the back of A-Qing’s neck, he could still do that. No one had to know he grabbed the little brat and honestly a quick death was more merciful than dropping her back on the street, probably the only mercy Xue Yang had ever actually known.

White eyes blinked up at him, completely uncomprehending of the danger she was in, and then they flashed with something. She started patting herself down quickly, finding a small purse after a few seconds and pushed it towards him.

“What the hell is this?” Xue Yang grumbled, flicking it open and half expecting to find old food or bugs. Instead it was a pouch filled with money. A-Qing’s eyes were bright with the glimmering all bratty kids had when they got away with something they shouldn’t have.

“That’s why I was running.” She said pleasantly, either unaware or uncaring of any sort of moral dilemma other people would have. “Here. To pay you back.”

Her words weren’t the smoothest, and she didn’t have any idea of how to ‘pay him back’, but somehow his heart managed to soften just enough for him to move his hand from her neck. She was already prepared to steal, she had no problems faking blindness, and she seemed attached to him. He could work with this.

And, well, if he got annoyed he really could just kill her later.

“Well, Little Blind,” He hummed and pocketed the money to offer her a piece of fruit instead this time, “I think we’re going to work well together.”

_

Xue Yang thought everything was going well, he trained privately under a new master provided by Jin Guangyao during the day, then he returned to the little shack he had and made sure A-Qing hadn’t died while he was gone. It worked well for them and A-Qing didn’t seem to mind sitting next to the river for hours until he returned home as long as there was food to shove into her mouth.

Every day he’d come home to find her with one of her numerous sticks slapping at the water and the fish playfully. Sometimes she actually managed to trap one and they got to cook it for dinner. Other times she was so soaked with water that Xue Yang made the executive decision that it was Bath day and dropped her right back into the river to scrub both of them off and take the time to scold A-Qing for being a menace and a brat and ruining the nice things Xue Yang gave her.

The scoldings only worked for the first week and by the second A-Qing had turned the scoldings back on him, for coming home with blood on him.

Him. Xue Yang, a well known delinquent and killer, was being scolded by a four year old.

Somehow it managed to be more amusing than annoying and Xue Yang just dropped fish guts on her hair until she yowled like a cat.

For the first year it was rather peaceful and nice, not that Xue Yang would ever say it out loud, to come home to actually have someone there. Not to mention when he managed to wrangle her into half decent clothes and could take her with him into town, suddenly people were much more willing to trade things for half price. He could also release her like a dog and watch her disappear into the crowd and meet back up with her ten minutes later with a purse full of stolen money or whatever shiny ornament they’d seen and wanted.

Once he’d even brought her to his training when he knew he would be experimenting with the fierce corpses. She’d been mystified immediately, holding onto his hand as she leaned as close to the cages as she’d dared and turned to look up at him.

“Are they dead?”

“Yep,” He chirped happily, scooping her up onto his hip and moving closer. “Want to see what they can do?”

At her nod, Xue Yang called out to the corpse closest to him pulling at the resentful energy to command it. It wasn’t as easy as Wei Wuxian had it with his flute, though Xue Yang would do anything to have a chance to talk to him about it, but with the thick needles Xue Yang had shoved in their head the day before it was manageable.

Obeying his commands the corpse turned slowly towards one of the unconscious humans slumped against the wall in the back. Xue Yang walked with the corpse so A-Qing didn’t have to strain her neck, and with a flick of resentful energy demanded that the corpse rip the human open starting with the ribs.

A-Qing screamed when the corpse buried it’s fist in the human’s stomach and gripped the ribs, pulling and pulling until it tore the flesh, a dying scream echoing around the room. Her face was buried in his neck long enough that Xue Yang was starting to think maybe that gore wasn’t good enrichment for children and maybe he really should have read those books the Aunty from the dumpling shop gave him.

He didn’t want to break A-Qing, what use was she if she was broken? But how else could a kid get used to blood if it wasn’t shown to them?

Maybe, he thought with a subconscious stroke of her hair, he should have started with killing a chicken for dinner. Or maybe a cat, though A-Qing really liked cats so he’d have to pick a dog or a bird so she wouldn’t cry too much.

Then A-Qing chanced another glance, fingers still curled into the neckline of his robes, and seemed to be watching in fascination as the fierce corpse pulled out each organ and devoured them. She still shrank away when Xue Yang stepped closer to the cage but she didn’t scream again and Xue Yang knew he had this parenting thing down.

Kids were easy, you just had to feed and water them and show them some blood and they were happy.

“What do you think? Want to save the tongue for dinner?” Xue Yang teased her, cackling madly when she gave him a disgusted look.

“He didn’t wash his hands, it’s dirty, you said not to eat dirty food.” A-Qing scowled at him like she thought he was pranking her.

“Yes, yes of course, silly me.” He snickered despite himself, turning to place her down on one of the stools and approaching the cage alone. Despite A-Qing’s grumbling he still ordered the fierce corpse to rip out the tongue and bring it to him.

“I’m not eating that.” A-Qing spat when she saw him grab it with his bare hands. Xue Yang barely gave her an irritated look before he was moving towards the small fire pit and snagging a tea kettle.

Say what you want about him, Xue Yang still personally thought that Jin Guangyao was more insane than he was just for the fact that he had an entire set up for tea right next to a corpse cage.

“You’ll eat whatever I give you, brat.” Xue Yang snapped over at her before dropping the tongue into the kettle with water and set it over the pit. “Besides, this isn’t for you.”

He paused as took in the potential consequences of his actions for the first and probably last time of his life. He couldn’t stick a finger on why but he knew he didn’t want Jin Guangshan to find out about A-Qing. He’d been hiding her well, though he was sure Jin Guangyao had an idea, he didn’t want either Jin masterminds to know exactly how close Xue Yang was to her or what she looked like.

If he took the tongue tea to Jin Guangyao then he would want to see what Xue Yang was doing which would lead him right back to A-Qing. But Xue Yang really wanted to watch him drink it. Maybe instead he could ask for a few disciples to see what the effects of drinking human flesh tea vs fierce corpse flesh tea were.

The temptation tugged at him for a while before an actual tug made him look down.

A-Qing squeezed between him and the fire pit and bent down to light it with the flint and steel next to it. She had thought he wasn’t moving because he couldn’t figure out how to light the fire!

Xue Yang didn’t know if he was warmed by that or irritated that she thought he couldn’t do something so simple. Still, he just watched as she carefully set the logs on fire and nearly lost the flint into the inferno as the flames licked at her hands. They were moving faster than her little hands could get away and he knew immediately she would be burnt if he didn’t step in

He covered them with his own on instinct, ignoring the way the heat burned his knuckles and tugged her to the safety of his side instead. He could see the glistening skin on the back of his hands that were proof of his idiotic move and glared down at her. She grabbed for his hands, shrinking down when she saw the fury on his face.

“How many times have I told you not to play with fire? How stupid are you? Look what you did.” He snapped, ripping his hands away from her and staring at the bubbling skin instead. Forget how stupid she was, what the fuck was his problem? Why did he intervene instead of letting her learn her lesson?

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry Yang-ge, I didn’t-” A-qing babbled as Xue Yang cursed at the pain steadily increasing. He kicked the pot of water and tongue over onto the fire and grabbed her by the back of her robes.

She yelped as she was dragged forward towards the exit, Xue Yang slowly getting quieter and quieter even as he radiated fury and killing intent. The hand on the back of her robes was tightening by the second, dragging her so quickly that her feet stumbled and he was hauling her across the floor instead.

She’d felt Xue Yang come home with the aftereffects of resentful energy clinging to him but she’d never felt him like this. It was suffocating and nauseating, but she was too terrified to even scream. Everything changed so quickly she didn’t know what to think, one moment he was laughing and now he.. He .. he was going to....

He didn’t respond when she called out to him, ignoring her yelp when her knees hit the stairs he was climbing.

Xue Yang was actively burning with murderous intent, he hated pain and when he was hurting he wanted others to hurt too. Even something as simple as his own accidental burns was enough to pour gasoline on the constant coals of fury that he held within him. He could almost taste blood in the air and craved being able to do so.

The crunch of bones under his heel was a building urge, and his hand tightened over the robes until it was clear A-Qing was lucky he hadn’t grabbed her by the neck or it’d be snapped. The familiar feeling of his sword plunging into flesh was like a phantom limb and his blood craved to feel it anew. To refresh that wonderful pleasure as he had it memorised and fill his ears with more screams then just echoes.

He finally made it to the last step, flinging open the door and tossing A-Qing in front of him. She flailed and landed in the dirt, eyes shining with tears even as Jiangzai was unsheathed.

“Yang-ge!” She cried, covering her eyes to protect herself.

A moment later she opened them when nothing came. Instead of Jiangzai being plunged into her belly it was buried in the chest of a Jin disciple who’d been unlucky enough to come check what the commotion was when he heard Xue Yang stomping up the steps.

Xue Yang looked at the corpse on his sword with blank eyes, twitching Jiangzai so the man fell to the ground in a heap instead. Usually he’d be slightly more careful so as to not invoke the wrath of Sect Leader Jin or Jin Guangyao, but this disciple had seen A-Qing and so his life was forfeit as far as Xue Yang cared.

He pointed at her, then the direction of home.

“Go home.” He ordered and in a flash she was running off.

He blinked twice to get the image of her in the dirt out of his mind, trying to push away the reminder that not even ten years ago that had been him.

When the thought wouldn’t leave him, he buried Jiangzai into the body of the Jin disciple a few more times and dragged the corpse downstairs to see if he could bring it’s resentful soul back for some fun. He couldn’t hurt A-Qing, but he knew what he could hurt to feed the powerful urge to cause pain.

#mdzs #the untamed #Xue yang #a qing #xiao xingchen #song lan #xuexiao #songxiaoxue #songxiao #songxue #fanfic #canon divergence #cw: murder #cw: character death #cw: gore #cw: blood #I'm not kidding when I say Xue Yang isn't a good person #Xue Yang won't hurt A-Qing but he also won't be nice about getting her out of the way so he doesnt take his anger out on her #Or nice about who he kills and what he does with the corpses

[seostudios]

extraordinary

SEOSTUDIOS HALLOWEEN SPECIAL

synopsis. after the king went missing, y/n embarks on a journey to save her father from the kingdom's greatest secret, the fallen prince, who has locked him in his mother’s castle. trading herself in for her father's release, she soon realizes the supposed blood-sucking creature is just an arrogant prince and makes her mission to draw the cold-hearted boy out of his isolation.

pairing. kim doyoung x fem!reader

genre. romance, fantasy, angst, smut

info. prince!doyoung, vampire!doyoung, princess!reader, beauty-and-the-beast!au (with a twist), non-idol!au, medieval!au, prince!ex!jaehyun, brother!jaemin

warnings. mentions of blood and arranged marriage, alcohol, explicit language, unprotected sex, bondage, a really bad sex scene ugh

wc. 5.2k

an. hi happy halloween! i promised ‘angel’ for my halloween special but i feel like wizards were boring for halloween (no hate) but a beauty and the beast au with a vampire twist sounded sexy.. so i hope you enjoyed this romance au there a smut scene but i’m not proud since i have to pee rlly badly and wrote this in a rush (LOL) i hope the cover tricked u! it’s supposed to give a ‘blank’ theme... yk anyways ill try writing more tysm bye i love you all think of this as a halloween special + 700 special mwhamwah

The long curtain that draped over your bay windows had the same orange hue to the morning light, every morning a perfect sunrise. Reminding you of the sleepless nights spent just to get a view of the sun as it illuminated the blue as if it were igniting the most miraculous flame. Throwing the large duvet that once covered your canvas, you quietly tip-toe out of your shared bedroom with fiance and future king, Jaehyun, not trying to wake him yet.

By the time you're finished looking presentable to the outside world, you make your way down towards the kitchen. There was only a week before the wedding, so the castle was a little hectic. Seeing the tailor and his assistance run in an out the front gates, the chefs coming from far and wide to bake you the most flavoursome cake out there. The wedding was a big deal. I mean between merging kingdoms and scoring the most eligible bachelor in the land... It was huge! Jaehyun was known in his kingdom for his selfless actions, but elsewhere, it was his dashing looks. Although he still hasn't managed to swoop in and steal your heart, you had no choice but to let him believe he did so for the sake of your future.

"Princess!" The chef Johnny calls. He noticed you wandering out of your suite after using the restroom and just had to get some small talk done and possibly put in a good word for his close friend about to seal the deal with you. "Oh! Hey Johnny," You greet, flashing him a toothy grin. "It's almost the big day..." He exclaimed. Wow, he seems more excited than me, you think to yourself. "Right. I'm nervous," You confess, your frown now replacing the award-winning smile. Which didn't go unnoticed by Johnny. His eyes, which were once trained on you, shoot up to look behind your shoulder. "Speak of the devil!" He shouted, shooting you a couple glances before running over to Jaehyun, who has just woken up.

Now at the dining table, you and Jaehyun sit accompanied by his parents. "So, Y/N" His mother starts in attempts to spark a conversation. You shot your head up to listen in on what she has to say, "Did you know Jaehyun has an older brother? Doyoung." Silence. You all sat in an awkward stillness, glances between Jaehyun and his father, worried. "No, I didn't. Is he coming to breakfast?" Her cheerful demeanour was quick to shapeshift into a dejected expression. "He moved to Paris to expand his corporation." The hidden truth was that he didn't move at all. He was banished. This tall tale is told all over the lands, but it was just a tall tale about the prince, was it not?

Once upon a time, there lived a dashing prince. His name was Doyoung. Despite having all the money and power in the kingdom, it still felt like there was nothing left for him there if he still lingered in his younger brother's shadow. So the prince ventured off, hoping to find someone who'd appreciate him for himself. That's when he met the great sorcerer, Minyeon, known by only the wicked. She was a sly witch, moving only on the outskirts of the lands. Aching to pounce on any punk in the vicinity. Therefore when she noticed the prince and came to realize his selfish needs, she casts a spell. "You're stuck like this until you find peace eternally. Is being a greedy spoilt brat all you need to be a prince? Maybe you should be more like Jaehyun."  Those were her last words before disappearing into the woods. Doyoung quickly ran back home. Calling every wizard in town to inspect him. He was now cursed to live life as a blood-sucking monster unless he finds this peace. "You know we can't." His mother started. Doyoung's heart tore, hearing the crack in her voice. "I... I know Mother. I'll be quick." He said before finished packing the briefcase full of necessities. "I have a castle." She spits out, handing him a map. "Stay there. I will visit as much as I can," And it was the truth. She visited for the first few months until he started to change. The violent evil nature of a pure vampire, taking its place in Doyoung. That was no longer her son, and she couldn't risk venturing far to walk right into her death. 

And that was Doyoung’s story.

It's been about three years since the incident, and villagers still ponder on whether it's fiction or not, but with the heartbreaking look on Jaehyun's mother's face this morning, I think you got your answer. Acknowledging the elephant in the room, you and your future mother-in-law finish up and head into the fitting room with the tailor, leaving Jaehyun with his father. "He knows-" Jaehyun started, quickly being cut off by his father. "That's why we limited guests on such short notice and doubled the guards. He won't be able to get in." He affirmed before the sound of the chair screeching slowly, and someone sitting was heard. The two look down towards the end of the table. "I won't be able to what?" Doyoung said, throwing his feet on the table. 

死

"I really do think you look magnificent." The designer, Taeyong, chirped adjusting your corset. "Taeyong honey, don't you think that's a little tight? Y/N looks like she's turning blue." Jaehyun's mother jokes. Ever since you've departed from the boys at breakfast, she's been jumpy. Was she expecting someone? "Alright, here we go! Go take a look, princess." Nodding, you make your way to the large mirror. "Oh my! I love it! Thank you so much!" Doing a little twirl, as Jaehyun's mother cheers, showering you in compliments.

“So.. Y/N darling... How are things with Jaehyun?” She asked helping you undress after Taeyong exited. “What do you mean?” You asked curious, what could she mean? “You know this isn’t exactly a love marriage...” She hears a sigh from you. “I mean I like him!” Making sure you let her know that first, you turn away from the mirror to face her, “But not like that, he’s a good friend... Nothing more.” The confession left the still room feel like a ghost town. Jaehyun’s mother hands you a heartwarming smile, assuring you it’s okay. “You know, I think you’d be fit with my eldest son, Doyoung.” Smiling to herself she takes a loose strand of hair and places it behind your hair. “A-Are the rumo-” She nods. They were true, he really was a vampire. “May I ask where he is? Do you visit? How is he? Does he look like the vampires from the books?” All your questions erupt at once, causing her to burst into a fit of laughter. “Well where do I start?!” She says more to herself. “He’s in a castle, past the river banks and through the woods. Safe, hopefully. He’s also quite charming-” 

A knock at the door, grabs both of your attention. "Come in," You said, but something was off. An uneasy feeling turns in the pit of your stomach as the doorknob unwinds to reveal Jaehyun. "You can't be in here! Shoo!" His mother scolded, but Jaehyun raised his hand to silence her. "Y/N, your father."

“He’s what?!” You shout. “Been abducted? By who? He’s on everyone’s good side.” You state clearly. “It’s not his fault. It’s our fault.” He confessed, looking down at the marble tiles of the hushed room. “My brother, Doyoung. Took him.” A gasp is heard from his mother as her hand goes to rest on her chest to feel her heart. “Is Doyoung here?!” She asked. He shook his head. “He showed up and told Dad and I the news but left afterwards. He told me to pass the news over to you.” Jaehyun began to massage his temples, this was really getting to him. “He wants you to meet him at his castle to - discuss - your father's return to his kingdom.” And in a blink of an eye you were gone. Jaehyun’s mother didn’t give you exact directions but you could find out where his castle is. “What are you doing!? Stop her!!” His mother cries, “She doesn’t know what she’s heading into!” Before she was able to run out to you, Jaehyun stops her in her tracks. “This is not our battle, Mother.”

Running into your barn, You mounted Ivy, about to venture off possibly to your death. You were determined though, no matter what; you need your father back. Not for you but for the sake of your kingdom. “Come on girl, we’re gonna save Papa.” Ivy was originally a horse for the knights but it seemed like the two of you had more of a sibling bond than you and your younger brother, Jaemin... Not that you guys hated each other! The river banks were a easy to trot by, the boat passengers and fishers greeting you, and the woods wasn’t as dark and ominous as Jaehyun’s mom put it to sound like. 

There you were. Past the river banks, through the woods and you were led to the front gates of Doyoung’s castle. The castle was more ancient than any bone left in soil. The stone pathway pitted and scarred, looking up you notice it's tall walls, trees surrounded the castle. The large pillars, narrow, round towers dominate the skyline of this massive castle and are connected by enormous, firm walls made of cobblestone. Spooky was an understatement. You dismount Ivy and tie her loosely to an old log. “Stay here girl, I’ll be back with Papa.” Pushing the rusted gates open you throw your cloak over top your head and run towards the large wooden doors. Letting yourself in you examine the large foyer of the castle, it was much smaller than yours back home but the presence it held was bigger than any king to have walked the lands. Your breathing is rapid and shallow, you can feel your pulse pounding in your temples as you cautiously walked up the steps. "Doyoung?" You call out. A muscle twitches involuntarily at the corner of your right eye, after seeing a shadow swiftly move. He knows you're here. "I'm not scared of you." You spoke tenderly, moreso to convince yourself you weren't. Looking down the narrow hallway someone stands, before you were able to walk towards the figure he heads into a door. Now on a wild goose chase after Doyoung you reach a grand hall full of chambers, a dungeon. “Let me out you bastard!” An infuriated voice shouts. It’s your father. “Papa?! Where are you?” You cry running around the zigzag chamber. “Y/N? Over here Y/N!” He shouts once more, why were you here? 

There he was, there they were. Your father was on his knees, gripping the bars calling out for you, but beside him standing tall, he was a slender and well built man with pretty, unturned lip. His pale skin sparkled in the moonlight, his dark eyes matching the night sky above perfectly. Doyoung. Although your heart picked up at his astonishing facial features, you were enraged on why he would abduct your poor father. “Let him go at once!” You demand. He kisses his teeth and dangles a pair of keys above your head. “Only if you stay.” 

“I’ll be fine Papa.” You assure your father at the front gates of the castle. “Take Ivy and head home. I’ll be okay.” You embrace him once more, “But the wedding?!” Your eyebrows furrow. “It’s cancelled, why don’t you get Jaemin to merge with Jaehyun’s little sister, she just came of age and she’s arriving from Thailand tomorrow.” And thus the decision was made. You were now a resident at Doyoung’s, and your wedding was cancelled.

Sitting on the last step of the spiral staircase you watch Doyoung pace around the foyer, speaking to someone in a room. Didn’t he live alone? Getting up to explore the castle you were stopped by Doyoung, he’s quick on his toes. “Let me bring you to your room.” He said, his hand reaching out to you. Charming Slapping his hand you walk past him up the stairs towards whatever room you would make out to be your own. He trails behind you, “Feisty, I-” “I was talking to your mother about you earlier. I’m not dumb, I know it all.” Your began, opening a room door. “I want this room.” You demand, even if you showed him your stubborn side a little, it was fine. He did kidnap your father. Doyoung hums “Okay. Dinner in five” He chimed, before heading back down. The rest of the night was nothing out of the ordinary, other than the awkward glances to one another at dinner. In attempts of sparking something between the two of you Doyoung asks, “Did you enjoy dinner?” At the door frame of your bedroom. “Yeah,” All was well until you saw him begin to unbutton his dress shirt and head into the closet. “W-What do you think are you doing?” You asked frightened. Why was he undressing in your new bedroom. “Getting ready for bed?” “But don’t you have your own room?” You inquire confused. “You picked my room, so we share.” He replied. There were at least over a dozen bedrooms in this castle and you just had to pick his. “No take backs by the way, now get in bed love.” Kissing your teeth you throw on a pair of pyjamas you found in the closet; assuming it was his. Moving to the side of the bed to make a wall of pillows separating the two of you.

死

“It’s been over three months Doyoung.” This was one of those rare occasions you spoke at dinner. “And?” He questions. “I want to go home.” You stood your ground, it’s been over three months, nearing four and it’s safe to say this dinner was the most you’ve both communicated. “You are home,” He replies, taking a bite of his food. “No, it’s not. I sit in this castle reading books and talking to myself, I’m going mad!” You bark. “You traded yourself in for your fathers release, I can’t let you leave.” He always spoke softly but his words never failed to slice through you. 

Doyoung enters his bedroom, while you were downstairs cleaning up. He reaches into the back of his closet, sliding the clothes on the rack to the side, to reveal a mirror. It wasn’t an ordinary mirror, it was a magic mirror, to help Doyoung communicate with his mother without putting herself in danger. “I thought this was the peace I needed to come back.” He said to himself looking at his reflection. “Peace? This isn’t peace Doyoung.” A voice hollered throughout the still room as the mirror illuminated. “I know it isn’t mother, I can’t seem to find it. I’m trying.” The tension grew thick, he was frustrated. “Find peace in her.” She finally said. Just then, the mirror shatters. “Doyoung?” Your soft voice calls from the closet door. His head spins around as he readjusts the clothing. “What time is it?” He questioned, flaring with energy. “About fifteen minutes to eight, why?” This is where you start growing nervous. Although he’s kept to himself you know he yearned for human blood. “Let’s explore.” He grabs ahold of your hand running down to the front yard. “Wear this.” Handing you a coat he intertwines your hands as the two of you exit the premises. 

“Why are you being so weird?!” You roar demanding answers. “I want our friendship to blossom my love.” He spoke, a pang of guilt hitting him. Your cheeks suddenly kissed pink like the spring rose, the blooming colour so bright against your face. Looking forward,avoiding eye contact with Doyoung you tug his hand forward into the wilderness. “On my way here I remember seeing a bench surround with an ethereal setting.” You babble on the way to the destination. “Really? Would love to see it.” Doyoung replied uninterested. This didn’t go unnoticed by you so letting go of his hand you walk ahead. He catches up but doesn’t grab ahold of your hand. “I apologize.” He said, earning a scoff. “I really am, I’m all ears now.” The pleads went on until you reached the bench where you sat down and pulled out a book. “What’s that?” He asked. “A sketch book.” You reply, opening the book to reveal you artwork. “Whoa, Y/N these are amazing.” Astonished he grabs it out of you hand to flip through them, earning a rather adorable giggle from you, which did indeed cause a crack in Doyoung’s ice cold heart.

Your stay increased and the liking you had towards Doyoung has as well. Now there is never a dull moment at dinner, a new routine of late night walks. In all honesty, Doyoung hasn’t been the slightest interested in you up until last night. “Doie! Look at this, I drew you!” You cheer running over to the boy in his study. “Let’s take a look.” He stood in front of you, his eyes that told stories words couldn't, staring into your shiny orbs, piercing through you. He couldn’t help it, with your collar bones exposed with the large tee swallowing you whole.. You looked appetizing. So when his hand came in contact with your nape, leaning down, his mouth hovering over your neck, about to indulge he hears a whimper. “Doyoung..” He looks up to your frightened figure. However, you weren’t scared of him sucking a little blood out of you, just nervous of how close you were. “Doyoung. It’s okay...” You whispered your doe eyes staring right back at him. But he couldn’t, “I’m not a monster.”

These days Doyoung felt vulnerable around you. The once inhuman arrogant cursed prince acting as like another man. His crave and lust for blood sank and he desired something else, something more attainable at his end now; love. Though his love for you blossomed quickly he was insecure and full of doubt when it comes to confessing. The world seems to be on his side when the two love birds are together, fooling around, but once the tension grew his courage flees the scene. Weeks turned into months with this unbearable love for you; he no longer lusts for your friendship, he needs more. 

You sat on the edge of the king sized bed, gazing out the bay window that peered into the land. Stars shining over top the night sky, appearing like magic at each sunset. Sipping onto the last bit of hot chocolate in your mug you change into a silk night dress Doyoung has purchased for you, since he thought you should have a new wardrobe now that you live with him. Back hitting against the soft mattress you wrap yourself in the thick duvet, closing your eyes to think.

My friendship with Doyoung has really come far these past few nights. Just the other night he cooked me breakfast in bed, which was really thoughtful of him. His egoistic personality fading into a tenderhearted man. Under all the layers from his saddening past, becoming a monster from the storybooks, to his prince status. He was a normal guy. I know he wants to flee this wretched castle and run back home, though he fears what he capable of. How he could hurt his people, or worse, his family. The sinister persona taking over him that cut his bond from Jaehyun. Oh But past all this is a man... You love.

The door creaks and you noticed a disheveled Doyoung enter the room. Must have been up in the study racing his minds to wonder, you believe. “Hey you.” You chirp, to sit up on the bed unknowingly a strap falls from your shoulder exposing your collarbone. “Hello Y/N.” The reply was dry and nonchalant about. But all worries ended when he hops into the bed curling up into himself gathering warmth. You don’t know why but your heart skipped a beat when you glanced over at him, catching his stare up at you. You huff playfully before relaxing into the sheets. The two of you could’ve easily split rooms and been on your way but there was an urge for you to stay in his suite. Maybe it was the thirst to find out who he really was, and why his path was this rough... Or it was because ever since you met at the chambers, your heart always raced around him; no matter the occasion. The room was quiet, sitting in a comfortable silence, both of you awake. Should you tell him? Is this too quick? Were you ready? The questions spring around your mind for a couple seconds before being interrupted by a pleasant surprise. 

Doyoung’s hand makes it’s way to reach yours. The ice-cold finger tips, tracing over your hand. Skinship wasn’t rare but it was never making you consider he felt the same way. Intertwining your hands you turn to face him, to notice he was already looking at you. He wants to confess, he will confess. His mouth opens to speak, but quickly silenced with a pair of soft lips crashing onto him. Knowing his difficulty with words, actions seemed to have spoken better than them. His lips were warm and the taste of bourbon stung your tongue gracefully. Doyoung moves his hands from yours to rest on the back of your neck, pulling you closer to him. You two break apart for air, hesitantly looking at one another. Though his eyes told multiple stories, all you felt as of now was lust and desire. Giving yourself up to him, or how people back home would say; popping the cherry. Lips crash together and it felt like you were walking on air. The way your lips connected with his, molding together like they belonged, his mouth was so warm compared to the rest of him. The small tug onto your lips erupting a quiet moan is what gets him started.

死

You awoke to arms barricading around you, keeping your bare body close. The morning light shining through the closed blinds creating a funky pattern on the duvet. Your hands drawing funny little shapes on Doyoung's bare chest. Last night sure was hectic, he's got a lot of stamina for someone who claimed to be tired. Doyoung lets out a whine, “So bright in here..” He groans, covering his face. It took a minute to register what was going on and why you were naked and in his arms, but relaxed when he follows up on what went down last night. He could freely express his love physically and verbally. “Oh my god, I love you.” He says ecstatic. You mumble ‘I love you too’ to him before he goes on yapping, “Mother was right.” He whispers, “She was right. You’re my peace. My key to a happy life.” A soft smile dances on your lips after hearing those words, he truly did love you... But because his mother told him so? “Your mother?” You inquire, but he’s quick to reply. “She told me to find peace in you; at first I doubting her sanity because you were quite annoying-” “Hey!” You slap his chest, however he defends himself. “But I can’t live without your chitter chatter now.” He expressed.

Doyoung combs his hair, you cleansing beside him. “You got tanner honey.” You say pinching his skin lightly. “I did?” His doe eyes looking into the mirror at his skin. Then panic arose, “Quick Y/N! Fetch me some blood.” He says while you blankly stare back at him. “You don’t have any blood.” He grabs your wrist. The veins visible. “I.. I don’t want blood.” A sardonic laugh escapes. “I have an idea” He said patting your head lovingly. What could he have in mind? You hum, signaling him to continue as you dry off. “Let’s get married.” If you saw yourself right now you probably would’ve been convinced that your jaw was touching the ground. Nonetheless, life is a risk. Why not? “Okay.” You replied, wrapping your arms around his neck, pulling him in for a kiss. The once feared blood sucking monster, was now back to being an ordinary prince. “I heard my father didn’t let our poor little sister get married..” He whispers into your lips. “Two weddings have been cancelled, let’s help them out.” Grabbing your hand he leads you towards the east end of his castle. You never ventured out there, quite creepy if I do say so myself. Digging into an old box he pulls out an off the shoulder wedding gown with embroidery on her bodice. Rhinestones and pearl beads were sewn on the gown. "It's beautiful," You gasp in awe. "It was my mother's gown. I want you to wear it now." He said handing it over. “Bring it in hand, let’s get ready there. Our big day is tomorrow isn’t it?” He smirks, taking you in hand to walk down to the foyer. “I called someone for us.” “You did?” Just then, you two hear the neigh of a horse (or two) in the distance approaching. A carriage arrived on time to bring you two home. “I can’t believe we’re going home.” You start. “Does this mean we’re gonna stay there because I’d rather not actually.” The confession was vague but Doyoung knew where you were getting at. The privacy was amazing, and hearing the sound of birds in the early morning instead of villagers was a blessing. “Me too.” He replied, helping you on top of the carriage. 

And off you go.

Once you arrived you were surprised people recognized you, and the prince himself. Whispers and rumours already begun and you’ve barely made it through the main city. “There it is, our chapel.” You joke, pointing towards the castle, earning a little laugh from him. He was no longer a vampire, and it frightened you, was getting you to fall in love with him just to go back to normal his only goal? Or was he truly head over heels for you as you were for him. Many of actions reminded you of how he loved you. “Whoa did you see that? They just let us slip by..” He whispers to you after seeing the guards let you pass by happily. “It’s cause we live here,” You replied all giddy over his childish antics when it came to being home, he was thrilled. He quickly rushed towards the the throne room knowing his parents would be there and you rushed behind after setting the suitcases. “Mother! Father! I’ve come home!” He shouts in the still room. Gasps heard from various maids and guards. “I-I’ve found peace...” He pants. “Peace?” His father questioned, his mother correcting him, “He found love.” Doyoung shares a smile before walking up to the throne, “I’ve been gone for quite awhile, haven’t I?” He snickers before embracing his parents. “Brother?” A voice hollered through the room, follow by whispers. He turned to see his loving siblings. “Jaehyun...” Running towards him his smile fades. “I’m sorry,” The apology was wholehearted, from what Jaehyun knew; Doyoung was a loving brother. But all was false, back then he was a selfish beast, not caring once of who he hurt. Now, he was back and came work up from his mistakes. Jaehyun pulls his elder brother into a hug, as he sobbed quietly into his shoulder. 

The door opens to reveal a princess; you. “You all know Y/N.” Doyoung says, grabbing your hand. At first, you don’t realize Jaehyun there, but he makes himself known. “Yes, I was engaged to her not long ago.” Shivers ran down your spine, how could he be so cold and straightforward. Did he actually love you? The straight brooding face quickly curved into a grin, flashing his dimples. “I’m joking. You two actually look like your in love, Y/N and I looked like brothers.” Laughter erupts within the room everyone catching onto the joke one by one before silencing. Doyoung clears his throat “I will be marrying Princess Y/N and merging our kingdoms into one.” It was nice to see his father smile, it was rare. This was good news and it seems like all is working out for the two of you. “Very well, how does next week sound?” He said, watching you two nod eagerly.

死 

It’s been three hours since your vows have been exchanged, and you are now rocking a stone as large as your pupil on your wedding finger, while slowly being undressed by your husband. “Why is this thing so hard to take off,” He complained right as he gets the hang of it. Your lips molding with one another in perfect harmony. It's a slow process you want to enjoy, but most of all you want to pleasure your new husband. A gasp escapes your mouth feeling Doyoung gently lifts his hands up to palm your clothed core, the gentle rubbing before going underneath the thin material to your glistening folds. He hushed your with kiss going down your torso, til he reached right above your core. In a blink of an eye, you see yourself nude and legs sprawled out with Doyoung’s face between your legs. Licking a stripe between your folds, sucking gently on your clit. “So wet...” He murmurs under his breath, before diving in. If you thought your first time with Doyoung was hectic, you’re in for it tonight. Now hands tied behind your back by your own wedding veil you stuff your head into the pillow, screaming his name. “Oh my god! Oh my god! R-Right there! Harder!” You cry, curling your toes ass he thrusts into your core. Your hair bunched up into Doyoung’s fist, keeping you two steady as he penetrates into you. Coming close to your orgasm you arch your back in anticipation; this doesn’t go unnoticed. Doyoung comes forth, hot breath and groans loud and clear in your ear. Reaching down he finds your bud and rubs harshly onto it, feeling you clench around his length. A squeal leaves your mouth, “I’m cumming!” You cried, digging your face in the pillow. Just when you felt yourself relaxing into the pillow, you feel a hot liquid coat your pink walls and Doyoung pulling out

死

The sound of the kids playing rings in the background as you sip on a cup of coffee your husband, Doyoung brewed earlier this morning. He comes to sit beside you on the abandoned bench in the forest, memories flooding off our many escapes to this very bench as kids. His hand reaches to caress your pregnant belly. “Number three.” He said playfully as you slap his hand away, “His name is Taehyun, not Number three.” He chuckles, “A beautiful name from his beautiful mother.” Doyoung says, gently raking his fingers through your long locks of hair. “I love you so much,” He whispers, bringing his hand to your cheek before kissing the top of your nose. “I love you too I guess,” You shrug, covering your grin with the book you held. “Youjin and Minhyun are still in the garden, shall we go in...” His eyes trail the vicinity, before catching your kids who were sitting in a field of flowers. “Min! Jin! Me and your mother are going to head inside for a snack! Stay close!” He shouts over the kids who just send him a thumbs up. Eagerly, Doyoung stood up grabbing your hand pulling you gently towards the castle. “What a child,” You mumble before heading in.

© seostudios, 2020.

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[phoenix-downer]

The Princess of Light Chapter 6: With All My Heart

~3330 words. Angst, Romance, Fairy Tales. For SoKai Week 2021, Day 6.

Summary: Princess Kairi is cursed to be without love when she is a baby. She grows up cold and without a heart to help her understand other people’s feelings, no matter how hard her parents try to help her. One day, however, she meets a mysterious prince from a faraway world, and he just might hold the key to breaking her curse.

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7

As Sora drew closer and closer to his fate, he could sense the world’s poor Heart groaning and dying, and the sensation made his blood run cold. It only got stronger the further he went, till at last the hole that light should be flowing out of was ahead of him. Climbing through it, he soon found Kairi. She was lying on a layer of blankets and pillows and bundled up in another layer of blankets.

“Princess—”

Her eyes fluttered open, and her lips were blue. “Oh, it’s you.” 

Her servants and attendants were bustling around her, making sure she was comfortable, and that included surrounding her with various types of food and drinks. Sora wasn’t sure whether to be relieved that her parents had kept their end of the deal or to feel dread that any food or drink she might give him would simply delay the inevitable and prolong his ordeal. 

Of course, he needed to survive long enough to uphold his end of the bargain, so he should be grateful they’d provided for that at least. Otherwise his sacrifice would be in vain and would save no one. 

“You all can go,” Kairi told her servants and attendants, and they left. With that, it was just the two of them. He knelt near her in the hopes she might say or do something that would lift his spirits before he began the ritual that would end his life. 

“You know how to bring back the light?” she asked weakly, searching his eyes. 

“Yeah, I do.” 

“Please hurry.”

Without a heart, Kairi had no understanding or appreciation of what this was going to cost Sora, or else she wouldn’t have said such a cruel thing. But he loved her so much and wanted to save her so badly that her words hardly seemed to hurt him. Just made him sad that she might not even understand what he was giving up till he was well and truly gone. 

“I will,” he told her. 

This seemed to satisfy her. She rolled over and huddled in her blankets. “It’s so cold.” 

“You can feel cold now?”

She said nothing; the hole in her chest had grown so large without the light that it made it difficult to speak. 

“Don’t worry,” he said. “I’ll make sure you never feel cold again.” 

“Promise?”

He smiled and rested his hand over his chest. “With all my heart.”

With that, he stood and walked to the Heart of the World in the center of the cavern. The poor thing, normally a large, vibrant red, pulsing and pumping with light, was shriveled to a mere fraction of its size and struggling to beat. Sora removed his gloves and rested his hands against the heart. It reacted to his touch, and he stroked it gently. 

“I’ll save you.” 

The words were spoken to the Heart of the World, but they were meant as much for the princess as they were for it. 

Taking a deep breath, he summoned his special weapon, the Keyblade, and pointed it not at the Heart of the World or at some enemy like he had before, but at his own heart. He glanced at Princess Kairi, hoping she might give him some form of encouragement, but her eyes were shut and she was facing away from him. 

“Maybe it’s just as well, I don’t know that I’d want her to see this,” he thought to himself. A moment later, he unlocked his heart, and light began to flow out of it and into the Heart of the World. It wasn’t exactly a painful feeling, but it wasn’t entirely pleasant either. He felt tired and drained already, like this was draining his very life, for indeed it was. 

He had to make sure it didn’t drain him too quickly, otherwise there wouldn’t be enough light over a long enough period of time to fully restore the Heart of the World. There had to be enough to fill the light river and flow up out of the ground into Kairi’s beloved light pool too. 

Resting his hand on the Heart, he softly begged it to slow down. It was thirsty for the light like Kairi was no doubt thirsty for water. She couldn’t drink anything right now; it would just turn to ice on her lips. And she wouldn’t be able to drink again if he didn’t succeed. Thankfully, the Heart listened to him and slowed down, and he turned his attention to the person he was doing this for. She was fast asleep, and he resolved to be patient till she woke up. 

An hour passed like this, then two, then three. He remained standing the whole time, not wanting to sit down, for he knew once he did he would not stand again. And whenever he removed his hands from the Heart of the World, it sped up and weakened him more quickly, so he had to keep touching it too. When four hours had passed in this position, he couldn’t take it anymore. His legs buckled, and he slumped to the ground. 

“Princess, please—”

She sat up, awake at last, and her eyes were full of wonder when she saw how the Heart of the World glowed. “The light’s coming back! Oh wow, I feel so much better.” 

He smiled weakly. “I’m glad to hear that.” 

A little stream of light began to pour out of the Heart and went past Prince Sora’s feet and by Princess Kairi. She dipped her hand into it and giggled at the warmth. It did him good to see that the light from his heart was sustaining her, and it strengthened his resolve.

“I can finally eat and drink,” she said once she was warm enough, then helped herself to the food and drink her servants and attendants had left her. Sora warned her not to eat too quickly or else she would throw everything up, and she heeded his warning and thanked him politely. 

Otherwise she didn’t seem to notice his predicament, and the short rush from her waking up left him completely. A cold sweat covered his face, and he shivered and trembled and his stomach growled. As dear as she was to his heart, it wounded him deeply to think she was still oblivious to his situation. 

But then he thought of what it must be like to be without a heart, how awful an existence that would be. It wasn’t her fault she was like this; it was because of that dreadful curse. He couldn’t begin to imagine what it must be to not be able to love. Love formed the very heart of his existence. 

“Princess,” he said when she was done eating and was lying down again as if to sleep once more. “Please, I need help.” 

She glanced at him, then yawned. “I’m so tired after eating all that food.”

“I know, and you can sleep soon. Just first, please give me something to eat and drink.”

“Can’t you do it yourself?”

He shook his head. “I have to stay here, or else this won’t work. The Heart of the World will drain me too quickly, and I feel like I’m gonna pass out any moment as it is.”

“Oh, okay,” she said, then relocated her little nest next to him. “Goodness, you look very pale and tired,” she said as she offered him some bread and juice. 

“Yeah, I’ve definitely been better. But this will help.”

In more ways than one. The food and drink restored his body, and the fact that Princess Kairi was the one feeding him lifted his spirits and replenished some of the light in his heart. He kissed her fingers tenderly out of gratitude, and she brushed his hair out of his face. The stream of light flowing out of the cavern became a creek, and he hoped that the creek was reaching to where it needed to go.

“It’s strange,” she said. “I would’ve thought being around all this light would make you feel better. It made me feel better.”  

“The light’s coming from me.”

She glanced at his chest. “Oh, so it is.” She was silent for a few moments as she processed this information. “They told me it would, I was just so cold I didn’t pay much attention.” 

“That’s okay. You were dying, and I wanted to save you.” 

“Is that why you’re doing this? It’s… very kind of you.” 

He smiled. “I think that’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.”

“I have been rather cold and rude to you, haven’t I?” she said, then frowned. “I… I don’t know why.”

“You were as kind as you knew how to be.” 

“I wish I knew how to be kinder.” 

His smile grew sad. “If I may, I do have a suggestion. I know you’re tired, but stay awake with me. Don’t sleep till this is all over. That’s the kindest thing you can do for me right now.”

“Then I’ll do it. With all my heart.” 

Her words caught even her by surprise, and her cheeks flushed a little and she turned away for a moment. Then she remembered her promise to stay awake with him, and after creating a backrest for herself out of pillows, she wrapped a blanket around him. 

The light flowing out of the cavern was now a river. 

Several more hours passed like this, with Princess Kairi feeding him and giving him something to drink every now and then, and wiping his forehead when the sweat started dripping into his eyes again.

But his arms ached from holding them up for so long, and they slid to the very base of the Heart. When she helped him readjust his position, her soft hands warm and gentle because of his light, the river practically gushed out of the cavern. 

“Look,” she said, “there’s enough light in here to float and swim in! We should go outside and see if it’s reached the pool yet!”

His heart sank. Would she leave him out of her eagerness to get back to the pool?

“I can’t,” he told her. “I have to stay here, remember?”

“For how much longer?” she asked, remembering her promise not to leave him. She didn’t understand a lot of things, but her parents had taught her that breaking promises was bad. “Another hour or two?”

“However long it takes.” 

“And then?”

“I’m not leaving. Not unless someone carries me out of here, and that will happen long after I’m past caring about that kind of thing.” 

She tilted her head. “Why is that?”

He couldn’t bring himself to say anything more. Did she even understand what death was? Trying to explain love had just puzzled her, and even if he succeeded in explaining what death was, he couldn’t bear to make her sad. 

“Listen to me,” he thought to himself, “thinking she might be sad when she doesn’t have a heart because of that awful curse. I must really be getting delirious now.” 

“Surely we can go out of the cave for a little while?” she prodded. Memories of the happy times they’d spent falling in together had filled her mind. “Then you can come back and finish what you’ve started. But in the meantime, wouldn’t it feel nice to feel the breeze outside, to see the sun warming the earth?”

“I won’t ever see the sun again.” 

“Oh,” she said, then frowned again. 

She said nothing else and contented herself with staying by his side and feeding him every now and then. More time passed, and the Heart of the World was almost fully restored and the light pool far above them was nearly filled. It wouldn’t be much longer now, as the requirement written on the lucky charm was on the cusp of being fulfilled. 

Sora felt very weak indeed, but he still had one final request. With the last of his energy, he said, “Kairi, will you kiss me?” 

She nodded, and she was the most sober he’d ever seen her. “I will.” 

She gently cupped his face, and he thought her hands didn’t feel cold at all. Perhaps it was because of how much light was filling this place, but her touch felt wonderful all the same. And when she kissed him, his suffering faded away. Her kiss wasn’t cold either; just warm and tender. With that, he knew he could die happy. 

“Thank you,” he said softly. She fed him one last time, but he was beyond speaking after that. The last of his light was leaving him, and it was taking his life with it.

Kairi felt strange as she gazed at Sora. Was it normal for him to look like this? His face was so ashen, and dark circles rested under his eyes, which had become dull and lifeless. When she touched his cheek, it was cold. 

“Prince?” she said.

He was silent, but a weak smile crossed his lips. Something about that smile made her feel worse, not better. He shouldn’t be smiling. Not like this. Never like this.

“Prince, are you alright?” she pleaded, but his eyes closed. 

Panic lodged itself in her chest.

“Prince Sora, please, answer me—”

 One last burst of light came from him and fully restored the Heart of the World. And not only that, it reached the farthest edges of the world, filling up every dried-up stream and river, every empty pool and pond and lake, all the places that light had once flowed and settled on Radiant Garden. His light restored everything to how it was in the old days, to how it should always be. And with that, he slumped to the ground.

“Sora!” Kairi cried. When she touched his chest, panic shot up into her throat. For while the Heart of the World beat soundly, Sora’s heartbeat was gone.

“No, this can’t be happening,” she wailed as she cradled his limp body in her arms. “I won’t let you go!” 

With that, she resolved to drag him out of here if she had to. She gathered him in her arms and pulled him to the nearest stream of light. Once she’d made contact with it, it pulled both her and Sora into its current. Soon they were speeding through the cavern, getting closer and closer to the surface. Several times she nearly lost her grip on him, for the light river was moving swiftly. But at last they broke through the surface into her beloved light pool. It was quite dark outside, and most of the people in the castle had gone to bed already.

“Help!” she screamed. “Help! Sora’s heart isn’t beating!” 

For a few awful moments, no one responded. But her cries were so loud that she didn’t go unheard for long. Aqua soon arrived with a group of guards, as they’d been on their way to fetch Kairi from the cavern anyway on her parents’ orders. Now they were tasked with carrying a limp, unresponsive Sora to her room. All thoughts of the light pool fled her mind as she raced up the stairs after them. Sora was the only thing that mattered. How could she have put the pool’s wellbeing over his? 

“You idiot! Your ridiculous obsession with that stupid pool led to this,” she said, scolding herself, for the moment Sora had collapsed, her entire world had turned upside down. Or should I say, it had turned right side up, for Kairi was putting another person’s needs before her own for the very first time in her life.  

Perhaps Sora’s kindness had begun to rub off on her after all. 

The guards laid him on her bed and then withdrew, as she’d insisted he be put to rest there. She stared at his supine form. Face ashen, lips blue, dark shadows under his closed eyes. He looked even worse than when he’d first collapsed in the cavern. Aqua hustled around him, using some magic here, a cold compress there, burying him under a layer of thick blankets in the hopes his icy skin might be warm again.

“How could I have been so foolish, so blind…” Kairi cried as she reached for his hand. “Aqua, how could I not see—” 

“My lady, you mustn’t blame yourself,” Aqua said tenderly. “Your curse makes it very difficult for you to understand these things.” 

“That’s no excuse. I should’ve known what he was planning to do!”

“Would it have stopped him even if you did?”

Kairi could only look at him in despair. To sacrifice himself was one thing; to do it for a recipient so undeserving, so completely lacking in understanding—and to do it all with a smile on his face—

“Tell me, what can I do to help him now?” she said as she clung tightly to his lifeless hand. “That magic you’re using, can I use it?”

Aqua smiled sadly. “You were blessed with a great light, but it was sealed away because of your curse.”

That stupid curse again. Kairi hated it. She hated it with all her might. How it made it so difficult to understand how other people felt. How she didn’t understand Sora’s feelings for her despite his attempts to explain them until it was too late. 

No. It wasn’t too late. It wasn’t. Sora wasn’t dead. He couldn’t be. But he was so cold, even with all the blankets. His hand, which had once made her hand warm, felt like ice. 

“He’ll freeze to death without any light in his heart,” she wailed, despairing once more. “His body isn’t the problem, it’s his heart. But until his heart’s okay, he has to stay warm…”

Perhaps it wasn’t very proper to do this, but Kairi had never been one for propriety anyway. First because she didn’t understand all the fuss around social niceties, and now because something far greater than social niceties was at stake. She climbed under the covers before Aqua could scold her or tell her not to. 

“My lady, won’t that just make him colder—” Aqua said, but when she touched Kairi’s arm, she was shocked to feel it was warm. Warm like an arm should be, and not cold like Kairi’s arm had been since childhood.

Kairi hardly seemed to notice. Her eyes were for Sora and Sora alone, and her thoughts were consumed with reviving him. 

Aqua tended to him as Kairi warmed his body. She used every spell in her arsenal and every treatment medicine could offer, but Sora did not respond. The world outside was pitch black, then gray, and still Aqua and Kairi continued on. As the colors of dawn stretched across the sky, she left to grab more supplies, and Kairi was left alone with Sora for a few moments. 

“Stay with me,” she said, her voice breaking. “I can’t lose you. I won’t.” She dared to cup his cheek and thought back to earlier. Thought back to how desperately he’d pleaded for a simple kiss. He could’ve asked for anything with his dying breath, but this, this was what he’d wanted. She planted another brief, chaste kiss on his lips, then closed her eyes and sighed. “I was so cold to you, so heartless. I’m sorry. You don’t have to forgive me, Sora, but please, wake up.”

With one more tender kiss to his forehead, she sat up, searching for a sign, any sign, that he’d heard her plea, that he might awaken. Resting a hand on his chest, she wondered, waited. There was nothing at first, just an eerie stillness. Still she would not give up. She willed him back to life, willed his heart to beat again, called his name. So distracted by her mission was she that the light flowing from her heart and into his escaped her notice. As the sun rose over the horizon, she felt his heartbeat press back against her fingertips.

Aqua returned to the room just as his eyes opened.

#sokai #sokaiweek #sokaiweek2021 #sora #kairi #kingdom hearts #kh fanfiction #phoenix writes #phoenix-downer #romance #fairy tale #fairy tales #the light princess #inspired by the light princess #the princess of light #chapter six #long post #this chapter is the heaviest one of the story #and features some dark/sad content #angst #angst warning

[undercoverclover]

Land Or Sea

Part 1

Genre: A giant mix of angst, fluff and spice if you want to call it that?

Pairing: Lee x Ari

Warnings: Mentions of death... I think that's it?

Word Count: ≈6k total

-My twist on The Little Mermaid for the Tell A Fairytale event hosted by @acewriters 

“Ari! Wait for me! You know it’s harder for me to swim with my hurt fin!” I hear from behind me. Looking back I see the bright orange hair covering my friends eyes. Brushing it aside, he huffs at me.

“Oh come on, River. Don’t be such a guppy!” I laugh. My younger friend, though he was almost a whole half a tail taller than me, had hurt his fin two weeks ago and though it had gotten a lot better, he was still slower than me.

“Oh hush you or I’m going to tell Mal that you’re going where you're not supposed to be.” I hear him snicker.

“Go right on ahead, then I’ll tell her that you were with me. Let’s see who’s in the dog house then.” I look behind me at his face. Noticing his lips in a tight line and his eyes glaring knives at me, I grin.

“That’s what I thought.” I snicker.

Mal is my best friend and the royal advisor to my father, Triton, the king of the sea. She is so much fun to be around, but let us get caught in a forbidden area and I’d never hear the end of it. River is her boyfriend, so it’d be double trouble for him… Especially with the hurt fin.

We push a little further, finally noticing the sunken ship we’d been looking for.

“There it is, River!” I smile, waving him forward to hurry.

"You know, if we get caught. Your father is going to throw us in the dungeon for a week." He smiles.

"That's why we can't get caught. Duh."

Swimming to the window, I peek inside. "AH!" jump back as an eel slides out. Grasping my chest, I hear River behind me laughing hysterically. Shooting him a look, I slip through the window. He stands guard as I search to see what I can find. Seeing something shine on the floor out of the corner of my eye, I look over to notice a ballerina figurine.

I pick it up, putting it in the bag on my back.

"Ari, come on. The waters are getting darker. We need to get back."

"Just 5 more minutes."

"Ari, now." He said, starting to get agitated.

"5 more minutes Ri!" I plead.

"Ariel! Let's go now!" He demanded.

"Fine!" I grumble, "I swear."

Heading back out of the window, I noticed it had gotten darker. It looked like there was a storm rolling in, but there were no signs of it when we came this way.

"Alright, we need to hurry back." I say, avoiding his 'I told you so' gaze.

Swimming as fast as he could, I tried to help him.

"Okay, this is my bad. We should have left earlier."

"I couldn't have left earlier. Now, let's get moving. Mal is going to have our tails for this."

Right, I’d had to wait on him because he’d wanted to spend time with Mal before she had to go to my father’s council meeting. Those things always lasted forever.

Finally reaching the city, we parted ways and I headed home. Swimming in the door, I notice Mal in the living room.

"We need to talk." She says.

We go up to my room and I place my bag on my desk.

"You missed the meeting today."

"What meeting? I never go- Oh snap! I completely forgot I was supposed to be there today. I'm sorry Mal!" I say, feeling horrid.

"Your father is furious. You may want to apologize to him, not me. I have a feeling someone else is going to be apologizing to me."

"I will… I'm going."

-------------------

Apologizing to my father had been a failure. I'd spent most of the evening trying to apologize. I'm grounded, even though I'm an adult. The joy of being a princess, you never fully escaped.

I'd made my way back to my room after that chaos and collapsed on my bed. Looking out of my window, I see something flickering at the top of the water.

It was distant but I got curious. Swimming closer, I notice it's flames! I swim up. There's pieces of wood and trinkets falling everywhere now, I have to dodge them.

I poke my head above the water and hear men screaming for someone from a lifeboat.

"Lee! Lee? Where are you?" They yell. They look around frantically, but never see me or the man. They head away. I'm assuming giving up hope.

I begin wandering around and looking, pushing pieces out of my way.

I happen to notice him stuck on a piece of wood drifting off in the opposite direction. He had been hit by something, knocking him out and had a cut on his head.

"Oh! Wait!" But they were already too far gone. I decide to take him myself. I grab the wood and push him in the direction of the beach a few miles away. It wasn't easy but I managed. He weighed more than he looked and I'm not huge myself, but I finally made it to shore. The sun was coming up now. The only thing I could do was drag him off the wood and onto what little sand I could get to.

He was beautiful. Brown hair that was fluffy after it had dried on the way here, sharp features and a small scar on his left side of his face.

He groaned.

Oh no… I start to head back to the water.

His eyes flutter open and look directly at me, his brown eyes shining in the morning sun, "You saved me."

"I did. If not you would have drowned. Now, I have to leave. I'm sorry."

"Wait!"

It was too late, I was already in the water and swimming home.

Wow. A human. A man. A gorgeous one at that…

I make my way into my bedroom window and get under my blankets, hoping nobody noticed I was missing.

"Where have you been?" I hear from the corner of my room. I jump and look over.

"River! You can't do that to someone!"

"Answer the question, Ari."

"I took a swim. Now I'm going back to sleep."

"Yeah okay. If you say so." He swims out of the window, agitated and I lay there daydreaming of the man I saved.

The next few days that passed, all I could see was his face. I want to see him again. I will. I'll go and see him tonight! I manage to keep my excitement down to a minimum, only River and Mal notice. Which is normal because I spend a lot of time with them.

I go to bed early, and sneak out. Swimming until I arrive at the beach where I'd left him. He was walking along it. His brown hair straight, in a white sweater and slacks. He was holding his shoes as he walked, feeling the sand on his feet. I wish I could do that.

He looks my way and I hide behind a rock.

"Hello? I saw you! Please don't be shy!"

"I'm sorry! I'm not supposed to be here! It's forbidden!" I yell to him from behind the rock.

"But you saved me."

"I did and I'd do it again."

"At least tell me your name."

"I'm sorry, I have to go."

"Please!"

I'd gone under before I could say more. I feel bad about leaving him standing there so I decide to go back there tonight to see if he was there. Lo’ and behold, he was. I decide to swim close enough so he could see me.

“What’s your name?” Lee asks, wide brown eyes looking in my direction, as if he’s not believing what he’s seeing.

“Why should I tell you? So you can tell all your friends of my existence and they can hunt me down?” I say.

“No! Of course not! I’m in awe… I want to thank the woman that saved my life, properly.” My mouth opens in shock as he continues, “I saw a glimpse of you last time, I just want to know your name to match your face. Which is much more beautiful up close, if I may say.”

“Ariel.”

“Ariel? Well, it’s so nice to meet you Ariel. Thank you for risking your life to save mine.” He smiles.

“Ari.” I say, smiling, “Call me Ari.”

I went back the next few nights, singing to signal him that I’d arrived, I waited for him to come out. He hears me and comes out, smiling, coming to sit on the rock at our meeting spot. We talk until he’s so tired he couldn’t keep his eyes open and I had to tell him I’d come back tomorrow because I need to get back before my father wakes. We continued this for a few weeks and I grew to love talking to him. He was funny and handsome and I became comfortable with him. He’s the first human to see me, the first human I felt a connection to.

I couldn’t hide my happiness any longer, I had to tell someone. I knock on Mal’s door, after returning from my visit with Lee, so it was around 6 a.m. River answers, with a strange look on his face.

“What are you doing here so early and why are you so smiley?” He asks.

“I need to talk to your girlfriend.”

“Alright, come in.” He says, moving aside so I can slip by, “she’s in the bedroom still.”

“Okay, thank you.”

Opening their bedroom door, I see Mal laying in bed, reading. She’s normally up and ready for work by now.

“Hey. You’re here early this morning.” She chuckles, closing her book.

“Yes, I am. I haven’t been to bed yet,” My smile fades, worrying about her. “Are you okay? Normally you are about to come to the palace. You’ve felt sick for a few weeks lately.”

“I’m fine, I just needed a day off. I was grateful your father approved,”

“Of course he would! You’re like a daughter to him, not just his advisor. He takes anything that you say seriously. So if you needed a day, he’d do it in a heartbeat.” I smile.

She smiles at me and pats my hand, “You guys and Riv are the only family I have, I’m happy with that. Now tell me, why did you come in here smiling to no end.

“It’s a slightly long story. Do you have time? And remember, this is best friend territory, okay? Completely sworn to secrecy, until death”

“I have all day. Well, as much as needed. I’d like to stay in this bed all day if possible.” She smiles and nods. I chuckle and dive into my story about everything, starting with the shipwreck.

Her face went from mortified that I was being so careless, to understanding. To say she was mad at first, was an understatement…

“Why would you do this, repeatedly, without telling anyone Ariel? Do you know how stupid that was? You could have been hurt!” She panics, causing River to come in and check on her.

“Please, Mal, calm down. Let me explain.” She calms down, but River doesn’t want to leave her side. Mal reassures him she’s fine now and leaves us to finish our talk. She breathes deep a few times and signals me to continue.

I explain what has been going on and the talks Lee and I have had. About how he is an only child, and his parents passed away when he was in school far away. How he’s managing the small kingdom he runs, on his own. I also explain that he’s seen me and that he is the type, like she, to hold that secret until death. She isn’t happy that I showed myself to a human, but she understands taking leaps of faith because Mal and River were never supposed to be together either. Seeing her understand what I’m dealing with and being there for me even though she’s not happy with the situation, I feel tears in my eyes. She’s genuinely happy for me. And her and River’s hopeful love story of forbidden love, leads me into my next dilemma.

I also tell her that I think I love him,,,

She smiles widely, “I always tell you not to do what I’ve done. Seems you one upped me, in that department anyway. You fell for a human, but I have my own secret to tell you.” I smile and laugh. Grabbing the pillow beside her and smacking her with it playfully.

“Someone has to make you look good. What is your secret? Tell me. Tell me.”

She leans forward and whispers in my ear. My eyes get wide and I’m so happy that I could scream. She shushes me and I hold in my excitement.

“Mhmm. Sure. So as your best friend, when are you going back to meet him?”

“Tonight. I really need to get home to sleep for a while.” I laugh looking at the time, 8:43 a.m.

“Yeah, you may want to, in case your dad looks for you this morning.” She laughs.

River knocks on the door and pokes his head in, “May I have my girlfriend back now?”

“Yes, you may. I was just about to leave.” I smile, getting up and giving her a hug, “Thank you for understanding.”

She nods, “Just remember to let me know some way that you’re going. I don’t care if you leave a pebble on my windowsill.”

I laugh but agree and head home, finding my bed and drifting off to sleep within minutes. I wake up to eat before slipping out for the night. I swing by Mal’s and place a pebble I’d painted a yellow smiley face with a blue heart, on her window; smiling I take off to meet Lee.

I began to sing when I went tonight, hoping he'd hear me and appear, yet he didn’t… I decide to wait for him. I'm beginning to worry after a few hours of him not showing...

"He's not here my dear." I hear behind me. Spinning around, I see the sea witch.

"Why? What's going on?"

"He's sick, my dear."

"Sick? Sick how!?"

"He fell ill yesterday morning."

"But that's impossible! I spoke to him just last night!"

"Well, he must have hidden it really well or really wanted to talk to you."

"Oh no. No! I have to get to him. I have to help him."

I need to find a way. I would.

“I'm sorry. I've got to go." I start to go around the witch to get home.

"I can help him."

"What do you mean you can help him?" I ask, cautiously.

"I can fix him for a price."

“What price?” I ask, more nervous this time.

“Give me your voice and I’ll fix him right now.” she demands.

“You could do that?”

“Yes, I could.”

“I- I don’t know if I could do that.”

“Well, if you decide to. Follow the current south from the castle. I assume you know how to get there though.”

I nod and take off home.

I swim as fast as I can and make it back before dawn. Instead of going home, I make a stop at Mal’s. I need to talk to her. Knocking on her door, I realize she may still be asleep, even though she gets up early, it’s still too early for her.

To my surprise, she answers the door…”Ari, what are you doing here? Is everything alright at the castle?” she asks, her eyes growing worrisome.

“At the castle, yes. But, I need your advice as my best friend and not the royal advisor.” I say.

She asks me to come in and I begin telling her everything. River is still asleep, so it’s like old times.

“So, you’re saying that you really love him? Even though you barely know him and may never know him in any other way and you want to help him?” She asks, “And yes, I know you feel like you know him through your talks.”

“Yes. And I know it sounds weird, but I have to.”

“Best friend’s advice only? Don’t go to the witch. She’s mean and cruel. Scope the beach out and make sure she’s not lying. Maybe your father would grant you time on land, if you told him it was to only make sure he was okay?” she suggests.

“Okay, I’ll talk to father when I get home. Thank you, Mal.”

“You’re welcome, Ari. And do me a favor, don’t take River out so far next time. His fin is doing better, but it’s been aching again for the past few days.” She smiles, coming to hug me and send me on my way.

“You got it. Thanks again.” I hug her back and head home.

Father was already awake and in the dining area. I decided to tell him the truth. Even if it meant getting punished.

“You did what?” He demands, getting angry.

“Father, please.” I plead, “I told you what I did and I’ve found out he’s sick. I need to see him and help.”

“You disobeyed me too many times, Ariel. Absolutely not! Why should I even remotely want to do this for you?”

“Because I love him! And I will do this one way or another Father, please. I’m asking for your help, not the help I’ve been offered already, but I will go to her if that’s the only option I have.”

“You think you love him. What other offer?” he says, angrily.

I stand tall, even though my insides are twisting from anxiety, “The sea witch.”

“Ariel, you will do no such thing! She’s a witch and an evil one at that!” He says, getting up from his seat.

“I will father. I may be a princess, but I am also an adult.”

“Ariel…” He says, hurt by my words.

I turn and walk out, hoping he’ll think about it and agree.

“Wait,” he says and I turn around, “I will help you, on one condition.”

“What? Anything, please.”

“I will grant you legs in order to go help him for 2 days and only two. But at the end of the second day, you will come back home. No questions or complaints. You will come back home and resume your duties as princess.”

“Deal.” I say, without hesitation.

With reluctance, even after I promise to come back, my father agrees to take me at the end of the night.

“Ariel, what are you planning on doing?” I hear as I come out of the dining area, where father had been eating breakfast. I look around and see River, arms crossed, looking at me.

“I’m doing what I have to do,” I reply.

“Mal told me. You don’t have to do this. You don’t know this man.”

“I do, River. I really do. Please don’t do this. Mal trusts me, that’s all I’m asking from you.” I say, sadly.

He shakes his head at me. “I hope so.”

He leaves and I get things ready and make some medicine for Lee, hoping it will work better than human medicine. I get completely ready and when I finish, I decide to nap.

“Ariel, wake up.” I hear and I shift in my bed.

“Ariel.” I hear again, opening my eyes slowly.

“What is it father?” I ask.

“Are you still wanting to go?” He asks. I jump up and grab my bag and the dress I was planning to wear.

“I’m ready.” I say, in a serious tone.

He smiles, “You really are willing to do this?

“It’s the easiest decision of my life, Father.” I smile at him.

“You really are your mother’s daughter. The most like her out of you and your sisters.”

I feel tears sting my eyes. My mother had fallen ill after she had me and passed. I never knew her like my 4 sisters did and always wondered. I hug my father tightly, happy to hear what he told me.

“Now, come Ariel, let’s get this done.”

I nod and we set out for the beach where I had met Lee on many nights and talked until early morning. We swim for a while, not bothered by the silence between us. Once we get there, I speak first, “This is it, What do I do now?” I ask, looking at my father.

“Go to him, do what you must and be back in two days' time. I will be waiting here at the same time as now.” He says and I smile and hug him tightly.

“Thank you. I love you.” I say, quietly.

I head close to shore to where I could touch sand and my father swirls his trident on top of the water. Feeling weird sensations in my fins, I look down, only to notice legs. Human legs… I smile, looking up at my father and wave my toes at him.

He laughs, tossing my bag at me. I grab the blue dress wrapped around my bag and slip it on, it’s wet, but it’ll dry soon enough.

“Be safe and strong, my darling Ariel. I will see you soon.” He says, smiling sadly and disappearing under the water to return to our home.

#a.c.e #acewriters #donghun #a.c.e donghun #tellafairytale

[janeyseymour]

Breakable

WC: 6783

As much as everyone wants to believe that Jane Seymour was unbreakable- it just wasn’t true. The third queen needed help from her fellow queens. And they didn’t mind one bit. Sometimes, it was a bit more outward than others. Sometimes, it was a bigger deal than other times- from sitting with her after a nightmare to simply getting her a mug of tea, but they were always there for the demure queen.

I.

The gold queen stood outside of the blonde’s door for a few minutes, listening to Jane’s quiet sobs, hoping they would die down soon. It broke her heart to hear the sweet woman in such a state. When they only proceeded to get shakier and she could hear the third queen hiccuping, she knew she had to check in on her.

“Jane?” The first queen knocked lightly. “It’s Lina. Can I come in?”

“I, uh, oh, uh,” Jane stuttered from inside her room. “Just give me a second. I’m uh, getting changed,” she lied through her teeth, knowing that Catherine knew she was lying. She wiped at her tears and took a deep breath. She caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror on the way to open the door, and she broke down again.

“Actually Lina, I think I’m just going to, uh- I’m not really up for company right now. I uh, need to think some things through.”

“Querida, please? I’m worried for you.” Catherine was not one to beg and plead, despite what her song may have said about her in SiX.

“Lina, I-” the silver queen, despite her brain telling her not to open the door, opened the door.

“Oh sweetie,” the first queen sighed.

“I’m fine, really. I promise,” Jane said shakily.

“Are you though? It’s a bit obvious you’ve been crying.”

“Oh,” the third queen whispered. “Does anyone else know?” She asked, panic evident in her eyes. How she hated to let everyone in the house know she was upset. And when they found out why she was upset, she’d never hear the end of it.

“No. Everyone else is asleep.”

“Even-?”

“Even Cathy is asleep.”

“Oh. I’m sorry for keeping you awake. I’ll uh, I’ll be fine. You can go to bed if you’d like,” the blonde offered, not wanting her co-star to put herself out for her.

“I was already awake, Jane,” Aragon said in a reassuring tone. “I was actually on my way to make a cup of tea if you’d like to join.” Jane offered a small nod in return. It was only then that Catherine got a good look at the woman in front of her. Jane Seymour, the woman who was always so put together and strong now stood in front of her looking as if someone had kicked her puppy. The face that always had a bright smile on it was now stained with tears, a small frown displayed on her face. The hair that was always so neatly pinned back or pulled up, never a hair out of place- even when she first woke up- was now disheveled. The woman who normally stood so firmly while maintaining the aura that she was kind and warm now stood in a way where she looked smaller than she already was, arms wrapped around herself- almost as if she was trying to grasp for the reality that she was really there. The woman who was- for lack of a better word- unbreakable looked so broken. 

“Come on love. I was thinking of some of that pomegranate tea you love so much tonight. Does that sound like a plan to you?” The first queen held out a hand for the third to take. The blonde nodded, taking the hand hesitantly and allowed herself to be led down to the kitchen.

Catherine led the silver queen to the table and guided her into her seat before dancing around the kitchen to make the tea. It was quite odd in reality- Jane was always the one running the show in the kitchen, yet here she was allowing her best friend to do it for her. Not much later, Catalina had set a mug of tea in front of Jane who instinctively wrapped her hands around the mug, desperately praying the warmth being emitted from the cup would transfer to her soul.

“Now mija, what’s got you down?”

“I-” Jane bit the side of her lip. “I had a nightmare.” Catherine kept quiet. The blonde would continue talking eventually. “About Anne’s beheading.”

“Oh,” Catherine muttered. The two had sat many a night talking about this.

“I know that we’ve come to an agreement that it wasn’t my fault, and I wish I could say I whole-heartedly believe it, but I just can’t.” A stray tear fell, softly landing in her tea. “I was the reason she got beheaded. I could’ve stopped it. I didn’t even try. And because of me, she got beheaded. I died. Anna got divorced. Kat got beheaded. And Cathy was threatened with being beheaded.”

Were you-”

“I wasn’t looking for him,” Jane’s voice began to shake. “Father- he- Father told me if I didn’t move our family up in class, I was a failure. My brothers too. I- I wasn’t looking for him.”

“I know.”

“But it happened to be that he fancied me. Who was I to stop that? He was the king after all. But, if I knew what would’ve happened to Anne, I never would’ve done that. You know that, right?” Jane lifted her eyes from where they had been so focused on the mug in front of her to look at Catherine. There they were again, the broken eyes.

“I-”

“Catherine, please tell me you know that I never would’ve gone through with it if I had known she would be beheaded,” Jane pleaded, the tears falling like a river. They wouldn’t dry anytime soon. Her sobs wracked through her like an earthquake, her entire body trembling slightly at first, only to become more violent as she continued to silently. The silent storm- the most deadly. No one knew that it was happening- no one but the first and third queens.

After most of the tears subsided, tea long forgotten, the kind queen spoke quietly.

“You weren’t really coming down to get tea, were you?”

“No querida, I wasn’t. But I know that when Kat is having a hard time, you do the same thing for her. Why would I let you cry alone?”

“I- Thank you.”

II.

Instagrammer1549: Can we just talk about how all the other queens are serving looks, and then there’s Jane who looks like a mum?

Sixqueenswalkintoabar: She does look like a mum, but she pulls it off well, so who cares @Instagrammer1549

Roseamongstthethorns: jane you look just fine. You work mum jeans better than i ever could.

While what Roseamongstthethorns and Sixqueenswalkintoabar said was kind, all that Jane could see was Instagrammer1549 had commented on her post. And that led her to Anne’s room.

“Hey Annie? Are you in there?” Jane knocked on the door gently. 

“Give me a second!” The third queen laughed as she heard a crash before the door opened, revealing none other than Anne Boleyn herself.

“What’s up Janey?” The green queen leaned up against her door frame.

“So, I was on the instagram, and uh, here.” The third queen handed over her phone. The second queen looked over it for a second before a small frown drew itself on her face.

“So, they’re making fun of your outfit?” Jane nodded. “I don’t know why. I think the mum look suits you quite well actually.”

“Maybe I just need to get out of my comfort zone? I mean, I don’t know. You guys all look like... that. And there I am with a turtleneck and a cardigan. What if I gave it a try?”

“Well, I’ll help you if that’s what you want. But for what it’s worth, I think you make mum look good.”

So, a few hours later, the third queen and her predecessor were at the shops. 

“Try this on?” Anne held up a simple v-neck shirt.

“Isn’t that a little flashy?”

“Janey, it’s a simple v-neck. Your costume is much more revealing than this.” The blonde tried it on. She didn’t hate it.

“I suppose I could get on board with this. I’ll just make sure there isn’t too much cleavage.”

“And then, we pair it with a cute jean jacket- you can borrow one of mine- and some leggings. Simple enough, but stylish?”

“Okay, what about this?” Anne held up a sleeveless, black v-neck jumpsuit with sparkles along the waist.

“That’s... pretty.”

“Try it on?”

“What on Earth would I wear that for?”

“Jane, you realize we’re always doing some sort of interview or press junket, right? Pull this baby out, and-”

“Okay, okay. I’ll try it on.” The third queen vanished into the dressing room before appearing again.

“I really like this one,” Jane admitted with a sheepish smile.

“Well? Do a little twirl! Come on Janey!” The blonde did a turn, and Anne cheered. “Okay Mum!”

“Should I get it?” Jane looked at the price tag. “Oh gosh. That’s quite expensive for my taste. You know I prefer to just shop at-”

“Jane! Come on! You never splurge on something for yourself! You deserve to- just this once! It looks great, you said so yourself!”

“Well, I suppose so.”

“Great! Now let’s look for some more casual stuff. Things that you can mix and match with some of your other clothing too!”

The two left the shops with various items of clothing- some fancy, some casual. The green queen stayed true to Jane’s fashion. Even the most revealing shirt that Jane had purchased had the essence that it was “mum”. 

Jane debuted one of her new looks the next day, much to the surprise of the second queen. She had the simple v-neck they had bought along with a jean jacket the woman with space buns let her borrow as well as grey leggings. She didn’t look half bad.

“Wow Janey! You look great!” Anne smiled as she stole a pancake from the plate.

“Annie!” the blonde scolded her lightly. “But, you really think so?” The third queen blushed and tucked a stray piece of hair behind her ear.

“Yeah! You look so good! The messy bun? Never seen it done by you before, and you’re killing it! You look so good!”

Not long after, the other queens came down, all complimenting Jane.

“Wow. You look really nice Jane! Definitely different, but you still look like you! I love it!”

“We should all get dressed up and take cute pics today!” Kat smiled from her place at the table. “Would you wanna?”

“I think that’d be fun,” Jane, not normally one to opt to be in the photos, agreed.

A few weeks later, a situation where the queens had to dress up presented itself.

“Come on Janey! When we bought it, you loved it!”

“I know. It’s just... is it too revealing? We do have a younger audience. I don’t want to corrupt them.”

“Oh Mum,” Anne joked. “You saw what I’m wearing. The only two who dress moderately conservative are you and Aragon. Besides, I think the other queens will like what you have!”

Jane walked downstairs much later than the rest of the queens, having spent far too long looking at herself in the mirror and doubting the way she looked. Grabbing a cardigan (“It might be cold!” she would always insist, even on the warmest of nights), she made her way down the stairs.

“Hot damn Seymour!” Anna remarked when she saw the woman in black. 

“Do I look okay?” the blonde played with one of her loose curls.

“Mum! You look great!” the pink haired queen smiled.

When the queens posted about it the next day, no comments were made about Jane’s “mum look”, even though she had her cardigan on.

A few days later, Anne found a new set of wheels for her shoes with a simply note-

Thank you. -Janey

III.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. We can run it again, or we don’t have to. I’m so sorry,” Jane apologized profusely. 

“We can just call it a day, what do you guys think?” Cleves suggested, seeing the clear distress that the silver queen was going through trying to learn the choreography. 

“But J-”

“I said I think we can call it a day,” Cleves stated with finality. She didn’t miss the look of gratefulness that the third queen shot her. 

“Alright girls. Home for dinner?” The silver queen had already gathered her things and was ready to leave.

“Seymour?” The woman who was always in red could hear the blonde clearly running through the routines in her room.

“Oh dammit,” the silver queen cursed quietly. “Give me a second!” The third queen could be heard making her way to her bed before allowing Cleves to come in.

“Hey Seymour.”

“Hi Anna!” Jane, now on her bed with a book open in her lap, looked up.

“I know you weren’t reading a second ago.”

“Ah, you caught me. How’d you know?”

“I could hear you tripping over your own feet and quiet curses. I figured I might be able to help you? With the choreography?”

“You know what? I would really appreciate that.” Jane set her book and glasses aside before standing back up. “I’m having a bit of trouble learning the choreography, but I don’t want to hold everyone up at rehearsal. I just come home and practice when I can. I guess I wasn’t that sneaky, was I?”

“As far as I know, I’m the only one who knows. I’ve heard you for a couple days now. So what parts are you having trouble with Seymour?”

“Would you laugh if I said all of it?”

The two were making their way through “Ex-Wives”. 

“I just don’t have the hips!” Jane laughed.

“You do have hips!”

“Well, I do have them!” the blonde couldn’t help but laugh. ���I just don’t quite know how to use them!”

“And that’s why I’m here. By the time I’m done with you, you’ll be the queen of twerking if I can help it!

“Absolutely not! I’m more than happy to leave that title to you!”

“So, the dance break in No Way?”

“Well, the first part is mostly just poses. You have your poses, right?”

“I’m bad at dancing Anna, not posing. Although, I do have to admit, I practice them in the mirror quite often.”

“Oh my god, Seymour. Well, for what it’s worth, they look pretty good.”

“Okay, so the dance break is where I get really confused.”

The two queens worked hard into the night. Promising to go through the other songs the next day, the two went to bed.

“You ready for Boleyn’s song?”

“I actually have this one down I think. I practiced the little dance thing in the mirror a lot this morning. That was the only thing that was really tripping me up.”

“Nice! And my song?”

“Oh, that’s another story,” Jane let out a full belly laugh.

“Okay, let’s get started.”

The two made their way through Get Down and Haus of Holbein before calling it a night, the blonde quite sore from doing all the squats.

“You know, maybe next time you offer, I’ll actually come to the gym with you.”

And so, once the two finished their choreography practice, they found themselves at the gym.

“Wow! Janey, when did you figure all of this out?” Anne was shocked that Jane wasn’t tripping over feet anymore.

“I uh,”

“Guess it just clicked. Right Seymour?” The fourth queen shot her a look, knowing the blonde sometimes had a hard time admitting she needed to ask for help.

“I uh, actually no. Cleves found me practicing late one night, and I asked her to help me out. Thanks Anna.” The third queen’s smile shone brightly. 

“Oh, uh, no problem.”

“You know you didn’t have to tell them I helped you out, right?”

“I know. Thank you for helping me out again. And for letting me join you at the gym,” The silver queen, now donned in athletic wear, smiled as she wiped a bead of sweat from her forehead.

IV. 

“Hey Mum,” Katherine curled into her mother figure on the couch.

“Hi love,” Jane adjusted the way she was sitting so it was a bit easier on her body, groaning slightly.

“Are you okay?” Kat caught on to the way the older woman moved.

“I’m just fine dear. Just a bit tired from working out with Cleves last night. I think I might have pulled a muscle in my back too. And, to top it all off, I think my period is coming.”

“Oh. Uh, is there anything I can do to help you out?”

“Actually, I’ve been meaning to make a cup of tea. Unfortunately, I really did myself in with this back of mine.”

“I’ll make it for you! The pomegranate tea?” Jane gave her a thumbs up.

A few minutes later, the fifth queen returned, two mugs in hand. 

“I hope you don’t mind that I made myself some too. I thought it might be nice to try the tea you love?”

“Not a problem dear. You know what’s mine is yours.” The pink haired woman nodded as she placed the mugs down, twirling around to go back into the kitchen.

“I just have to grab a few more things.” Katherine came back into the living room juggling a heating pad, some pain relievers, and a few snacks she knew her mother figure enjoyed- dark chocolate, some pickles, an apple... a strange combination, but the blonde appreciated it nonetheless.

“Thank you honey. I really appreciate it.” The older woman popped the pills into her mouth and took a swig of her tea.

“It’s not a problem! Just want to make sure that you’re comfortable like you do for us when we’re a bit sore. I’ll be on my way now I suppose. Have a nice relaxing day!” Kat moved the television remote closer to Jane and began to make her way up the steps with her cup of tea when she heard a small plea.

“It’d be nice if you stayed?” Jane offered. “It can be kind of boring when no one else is around.

“If you really want me to stay, I will.” The queen clad in pink made her way over to the couch, sitting a bit further away from the woman in white than she usually would.

“Come here love,” Jane sighed, opening her arms for her daughter to curl into.

“Are you sure? I don’t want to hurt you or put a strain on your back or anything.”

“I’m positive. If it becomes uncomfortable, I’ll let you know. I’m just a bit sore love, not broken or anything.” And so, the two settled in on the couch together. “Anything you want to watch dear?”

“Oh uh, whatever is fine. I don’t really mind.”

“How does some reality television sound?” Truth be told, Jane didn’t fancy the reality television shows that the youngest queen loved so much. She had the entire house fooled- if it meant Katherine would sit with her and spend time with her though, it was worth listening to clearly staged fights and watching the ridiculously sappy moments of romance on screen. Kat nodded, finding the latest episode (because of course the duo was up to date with each and every show the younger woman loved).

Not long after the silver queen had finished a few bites of chocolate, the heating pad, along with the heat radiating from the woman curled into her side, had lulled her to sleep. The women in the house knew that if the third queen was sleeping, she needed it, and under no circumstances were they to wake her. This wasn’t exactly Jane’s rule, but the other queens deemed it a necessary rule without the blonde knowing it. 

“Janey fell asleep?” Anne wandered into the living room.

“Yeah, probably like 20 minutes ago?”

“Oh shit. So, we have to wait for dinner?”

“We’ll see how long she’s out for this time. If she’s out by the time we need to start dinner, I’ll just make it.”

“Okay. I’m off to go do big bitch energy things. Text me when it’s safe for me to come back into the house.”

“Oh, actually, could you grab my phone for me? It’s in my room.”

“Yeah dude. And then, I really am off to go to big bitch energy things. Lord knows I don’t need to wake Janey up again by accident. I still can’t believe how much Lina went off on me for that.”

“You know she’s just protective over Mum sometimes.”

“I know, but Jane wasn’t even pissed with me. It was all Aragon. Anyway, let me go grab your phone.” Anne returned a few moments later and began to throw the phone.

“Annie, don’t throw it!” Katherine called a moment too late. The phone landed in the blonde’s lap with a thud. 

“Shit,” Anne whispered. The two cousins held their breath, silently praying the third queen wouldn't wake up. After a few seconds, it became clear that she wouldn’t wake, and the two let go of the breath they were holding. “Well, on that note! I’m leaving!”

[the queens] Kat: mum’s asleep. no one comes back to the house and wakes her.

        Anne: @lina before u say anythin... im already outta the house n doing big bich energy things

        Anna: y was i not invited

        Anne: if u wanna come i didn leave yet. i can wait

        Anna: b out in a sec

        Catherine: Good riddance. Don't call if you get arrested. Cath and I are probably going to stay at the coffee shop and while longer then. Maybe get some shopping done so Jane doesn’t have to when she wakes up tonight  (because we all know she’ll be asleep for a long time)

        Cathy: Please call if you get arrested. @Lina, Jane wouldn’t be too happy if you left them.

        Kat: jus dnt call mum unless i txt shes awake first

Hours later, the woman who had been lulled to sleep was still dead to the world, leaving Katherine to try to figure out how to untangle herself from her mother’s arms to make dinner.

“What’s for dinner again?” the pink queen muttered to herself as she made her way to the kitchen, finally having succeeded in standing up without waking Jane. Glancing at the “weekly menu” the blonde made, she discovered that it was simply a pasta night.

“I can manage that,” the fifth queen chuckled with confidence.

And she did. Unbeknownst to the other queens, Katherine could cook. It turns out it pays off to watch the blonde flit around the kitchen and prepare meals, occasionally helping with small things like making sure that the pasta was stirred every so often and chopping up vegetables when needed. The fifth queen had succeeded in making copious amounts of pasta, heating the various sauces that the queens liked, along with cooking chicken, meatballs, and sausage for the queens to enjoy. She managed to chop up a selection of vegetables and lay them out on the table without cutting her fingers- a situation she often found herself in when helping her mother. As she was setting the table, the other four queens made their way into the house as quietly as they could, knowing Jane was asleep since Katherine hadn’t texted that she had woken up.

“Hey guys,” Katherine made her way into the living room from the kitchen. “Dinner’s almost ready and-”

“Holy shit that smells good,” Anna’s mouth began to water at the smell.

“Did you do this?” Aragon looked at the woman with the apron.

“I uh, yeah? I figured Mum needed sleep so I just took on cooking dinner for tonight?”

“And it’s not from a box?” Cathy laughed quietly.

“Believe it or not,” a raspy voice, the voice of a newly awake Jane Seymour, spoke up as she stood and stretched. “Kat can cook. She just chooses not to.”

“I-” The pink queen had been caught red-handed- literally. The woman had spilled a bit of the marina sauce on her hand and was about to clean it up when she heard the others arrive home. “Uh, dinner’s ready. I was just setting the table.”

Later that night, Katherine came knocking on Jane’s door.

“Come in!” The gentle voice called. When Kat opened the door, Jane smiled sleepily.

“I was just checking that you’re alright,” the fifth queen stuttered. “You know, with your back and all.”

“It’s not 100% yet, but that’s to be expected. I’m sure I wouldn’t be feeling as good as I do if you hadn’t stepped up and helped out your old mum. Thank you sweetheart.”

“I, uh, yeah.” Kat scratched the back of her head. “You’re welcome. I’m heading to bed now, so uh, goodnight?” She made her way over to the woman laying in her bed and kissed her cheek.

“You don’t want to hang out in here tonight?”

“I just didn’t want to bother you or your back,” Kat admitted.

“Nonsense. You know you’re never a bother. Go grab your things.”

A few moments later, the two were laying in bed together, happily watching a house hunting show in silence.

“Thank you for a wonderful day love.” Jane kissed the younger girl’s hairline and fell asleep.

She would wake up the next morning feeling much better.

V.

Jane Seymour had never been the most literate person. Hell, she had a hard time signing her name on various documents. Catherine Parr, one who people wouldn’t expect to be so observant because her head was always in her books, picked up on the way it would take the blonde several seconds to sign her name. Or how she would look slightly terrified when they were handed notes on their show. Or how she tended to listen to audiobooks as opposed to reading the book, like the rest of them would. Or how she really only knew how to write the letters in her name, and that was all the writer had ever seen her write. How she made voice memos of grocery lists instead of writing them in her notes like she or Catherine would.

“I’m going to the store. Would anyone like anything?” Jane called from the front room. A few voices responded with various groceries.

“Just send me a text please. I’ll pick them up.”

“Would you like me to go with you?” Cathy offered.

“If you’d like.”

“That’s fine. I think I need a moment or two away from my laptop anyway,” the writer shrugged. 

“Did, did you just get Cathy to take a break from work?” Aragon peered at the blonde from her place on the couch.

“Oh hush. You all act like I’m a work-a-holic.”

“That’s because you are. Now, get your coat on. Come on.” She turned to face the stairs before hollering, “If you need anything, text me!”

The two were at the grocery store when the sixth queen noticed something a bit strange. Her blonde co-star had popped an earbud in. Only then did she realize that the third queen was clicking on what the others had texted and was listening to the words they had typed. Deciding to brush it off, she allowed the blonde to go about this strange habit she had.

The third queen thought she was home alone. It really was quite easy to forget that Cathy was home sometimes, locked away in her bedroom working on her writing. Jane was curled up on the couch, the warmth of the fire reflecting off of her face as she struggled to read a simple book she had bought recently. Little did she know, the writer was watching her diligently.

“Shit,” Jane sighed. She pulled out her phone and typed the word into google before playing the word quietly and repeating it a few times. “What the hell does that mean?” She highlighted the definition before having her phone read it out loud to her.

“Hey Jane!” Cathy made her presence known. “What are you reading?” She sat down next to the blonde.

“I uh, it’s this book about uh-” Jane took a deep breath before continuing. “-I don’t really know if I’m being honest. I’ve been trying to get better at reading, but it’s kind of confusing.”

“What’s confusing about it?” The writer asked in a genuine tone, not mocking or belittling.

“I uh, I don’t really know. I’ve just never been the best reader or writer. Sorry. This must seem so stupid to you, you know, being a writer and all. I guess I’ll just stick to my audio books and things like that.”

“I don't think it’s stupid. I think it’s very admirable that you’re trying to get better. It can be really tough at first. Would you like some help? With reading and writing?”

“I- I think I’d like that.”

The two bought various books, and after a few weeks, Jane was reading better. Not quite to the standard that she had hoped, but the sixth queen assured her it was a process and to be proud of the advances she had made in such a short time.

“What problems do you have with writing?”

“I never really learned penmanship, as you could probably tell from my signature in our old lives. I picked up on my signature and simple phrases like ‘thank you’ and ‘I love you’ for you girls. Other than that, I don’t even really know how to write most of the letters in the alphabet properly,” the third queen confessed, a shade of crimson becoming apparent on her face.

“That’s alright. Penmanship can be quite hard. But, if you already have small phrases known, you know a good amount of letters already. And, you seem to have practiced your signature quite a bit. It looks wonderful,” the blue queen encouraged.

“Thank you. I’ve practiced... a lot.”

“Well, it’s paid off. Maybe we could go to the bookstore and find a book to help?”

“I think that’d be nice.”

The least literate queen quickly became an avid reader and her penmanship became much better thanks to the first woman in England to publish a book. As her penmanship got better and she became more confident with her skills, the sixth queen noticed that Jane’s handwriting was appearing more and more often. Whether it be grocery lists or simple notes to her fellow queens letting them know she was going out and not to worry about her, she always seemed to be practicing. The times of the blonde popping in an earbud to listen to the grocery requests became less frequent, and she wasn't afraid to ask the blue queen for help if she didn’t quite understand a word.

A few months into Jane Seymour’s literary adventures, a note was slipped under Cathy’s bedroom door late one night while she was working. She recognized the, what was once sloppy and hard to read but now clean and neat, handwriting immediately- a sense of joy overwhelming her.

Cathy,

I know I’ve said time and time again how thankful I am that you’ve been able to help me with my reading and writing skills. I figured this would be as good a time as any to show you my skills. So, this note was written without any help from a dictionary or a phone to help me figure out how to spell something. Thank you for having faith in me and not giving up on me- even when I wanted to give up on myself. Thank you for not looking down on me for not having these skills before. I know it might’ve been easy to brush me off seeing that you’re the first woman in England to publish work. But you didn’t. I am so thankful that you decided to help me. You are truly a kind and wonderful woman. Gold star for you Cathy Parr. Thank you. I love you.

-Janey

Catherine Parr considered this her most prized possession, setting it on her desk for her to see every time she sat at her desk- which was quite frequently.

VI.

The queens had sat down for an interview, and the interviewer was quite rude to the third queen to say the least. He wasn’t necessarily kind to the other women, but he was certainly the worst when it came to Jane Seymour.

“Now, I do have a question for all of you- besides Miss Seymour.”

“Of course,” Jane muttered under her breath. She was truly getting sick of taking the brunt of this man’s hatred.

“How can you stand living with this boring and bland woman who claims she’s the only one Henry truly loved? Don’t you think she is the least deserving to be in this show of yours?” the interviewer asked with a devious smirk on his face.

“Who the hell approved that question?” Cleves was quick to speak.

“Ladies, I assure you no one approved that question,” the woman behind the camera spoke. “I’m so sorry. This interview is over, and you are fired, effective immediately. Leave.” The woman directed the last part at the interviewer.

“What? I just asked a question.”

“An incredibly rude question. I advise you to get out now, because this is my property, and because you are no longer an employee here, I do believe you’re trespassing without my permission.”

“No,” Catherine of Aragon stated, putting a hand up. “He asked a question. Why don’t we answer it queens?”

“Ladies, you don’t have to. His behavior was abhorrent. I assure you, none of this will air, and you will still be compensated for your efforts.”

“I think we should answer it,” Cathy agreed. 

“Keep the cameras rolling. You’re gonna want a video of this,” Anne grinned, a mischievous twinkle in her eye.

“Queens, please don’t,” Jane practically squeaked, tears evident in her eyes.

“Why not Mum?”

“Because what he said was right,” Jane breathed out.

“No. Absolutely not,” Katherine shook her head, disgusted that this man who meant nothing to them could manipulate her mother into believing she was bland and boring.

“I advise you to listen closely- because I’m only going to say this once,” Katherine stared down this man, this being the first time she had ever stood up to a man without fear. “My mum is absolutely the least boring person on the earth, and you have no right to say anything about her. She is the most kind and caring person that I’ve ever met. She is insanely talented, she has a heart of gold, and she has more class in her pinky than you do in your entire body. She only says she’s the only one he truly loved because that’s how she went down in history.”

“Believe it or not, she tried to get us to take that part out because she didn’t want to offend the rest of us,” Cathy interjected.

“Jane is the least boring person I know. She might have this whole mum thing going for her, which we all know the queendom loves, and we wouldn’t trade her for the world. She keeps us- us being Anna, Kat, and me- in order. She’s a hell of a cook and a baker. She can be the silliest person when she wants to be. She is not boring or bland, and it is ridiculous to think that people think of her like that.” Anne crossed her arms, glaring at the man.

“What Seymour chooses to publish on social media is definitely not as risque as the rest of us. She chose that. What you guys don’t see is all of the things she doesn’t post. There are so many pictures of her being silly and making faces. She’s tried heelying with Bo. She’s been the mastermind between many pranks that go on in the house. She’s not afraid to get down and work out with me. She likes to keep it a bit more PG than most of us because she’s so very aware that we tend to have a younger fanbase, even with our show being a bit sexual at times. Seymour is the least boring person we know. She may not post all of the silly hijinks that happen,- and we don’t either because we don’t want to invade her privacy like that- but she is absolutely deserving of being a part of this family as any of us are. You know, the entire point of our show is to show how far we’ve come since we’ve been reincarnated. To show that we shouldn’t be compared. We are all here, and we are a family. We don’t need absolute morons with a single brain cell like you trying to tear down the family we’ve created. Suck on that, you buffoon,” Cleves practically yelled at the man.

“We were all the wives of the same man. Just because she may have gone down in history as ‘the only one he truly loved’ doesn’t mean she’s any less deserving of being in the show than the rest of us. And she is a wonderful person to live with. She makes sure we’re all okay when we’re sick or are having a rough day. She’s the first one to make a silly face and ‘ruin’ a picture. If you can believe it, it’s not Bo. She’s always surprising us with new things everyday- like when she beat Anna in an arm wrestling competition. She’s always striving to become a better person and show the world all the kindness and love that she has in her heart. She is far from bland and boring, and she is an absolute pleasure to work with and live with. She keeps our family together,” Aragon spoke a bit more level-headed than the rest of them, but her tone and glare towards the interviewer showed that she meant every word she had said.

“And with that, I think this interview is over,” Katherine stated with finality.

“Piss off. She’s still the bland wife,” the interviewer muttered.

“I’m so sorry, what was that?” Cleves stood from her chair.

“You clearly heard me,” the man also stood, trying to make an advance towards the red queen.

“Security, I think it’s about time you take this disgusting ex-employee out of here,” the woman behind the camera snarled to the men who had been behind her from the beginning. The man was escorted out quickly.

“I’m so sorry for the behavior that my ex-employee exhibited,” the woman sighed. “I do hope you know that none of that was planned, and he will not be getting his job back.”

“That was pretty clear,” Anne laughed.

“Miss Seymour, I’m so sorry for the-”

“It’s quite alright. It’s very clear not everyone here thought that way, and I’m sorry for the trouble we caused.”

“You six have nothing to apologize for. I do hope that we can try to reschedule another interviewer, perhaps with myself, if you’re still interested. Although, I do have to say I would completely understand if you decide to pull out of this interview after that experience.”

“I think that we could arrange something,” Jane smiled a bit for the first time since entering the building.

Later that night, Jane was in her room when she heard a light knock at the door. 

“Come in?” She called. When the door opened, she was met with the five other queens. “Hey girls.”

“I hope you know that we meant every word we said at that interview,” Catalina offered as she sat on the edge of the bed.

“We really did. That idiot-”

“I believe the word you chose was ‘buffoon’,” Anne laughed.

“That buffoon,” Anna continued. “was an absolute fool to think he could go after you like that and expect us to not defend you. Absolutely moronic.”

“Thank you girls. I really appreciate your efforts.”

“Please tell us you know that you aren’t bland and boring mum. Please,” Kat pleaded.

“As much as I wish I could, I still have those thoughts about myself sometimes,” the blonde admitted bashfully.

“Well, we’ll just keep reminding you that you’re amazing, and we love you just the way you are,” Cathy assured the silver queen.

“Thank you loves.”

So, maybe Jane Seymour wasn’t unbreakable. But in reality, her family was always right there to pick up her broken pieces and put her back together. Her family.

#six the musical #six musical #six fanfiction #six the musical fanfic #six the musical fanfiction #six fanfic #six musical fanfic #jane seymour

[therainbowwillow]

When Hell Freezes Over AU: Part 4! 

The whistle hasn’t blown for over a week now; Eurydice hasn’t worked. The temperatures have only dropped lower. Colder and colder until the rivers of the underworld had frozen over, all except the Phlegethon, where the shades spend all of their days conserving what little heat can be found at its banks.

Eurydice had joined the huddle as quickly as she could, staking down a spot as close to the river as possible. She’d brought with her everything she owned: the bottle given to her by the bartender, her thin bed sheets, and the scrap of paper with her name written on it.

She sits beside the fiery river, clutching her slip of paper. She knows its information is true now. The Lethe has frozen over, they say. It must have. Every day, she remembers a little more. First, her name, without her paper. His name. And losing him.

She wants to throw her shred of memory into the fire. Watch it burn. The paper’s edges are charred from past attempts, but she can’t bring herself to watch it turn to ash.

Of course he’d turned. She wishes she could blame him. Watch his name go up in flames. She wants to hate him. But would she have done anything differently? She had abandoned him, lost faith in his music. She’d broken her promises, he’d broken his. How could she accuse him of betrayal when she had left him first?

Why had she come here? Hadn’t she known the weather would never spare her, no matter where she ran? Her broken promises hadn’t brought her peace. The winds had caught up to her, even in death. For this, she has only herself to blame. He turned, but she gave him reason to distrust her.

A murmur goes up through the crowd: Persephone’s home. Early. Eurydice hears it. She does not remember how long it had been since the Queen of the Underworld had gone to the surface. It holds no meaning to Eurydice. Spring won’t be found down here, no matter how early Persephone arrives.

It’s the next rumor that catches her. “Hades is coming,” they say. She tightens her blankets around her shoulders, trains her eyes on the river. “He’s looking for someone.” She crumples her paper and tucks it into her pockets. “A girl. Eurydice.” Her hair stands on end. Her feet beg her to run. Flee, hide, pray she can stay out of sight. But there’s no dodging Hades’s watchful eye. 

Eurydice hears footsteps, slowly approaching her claim on the riverbank. She keeps her head down. If he spots her... “You.” She recognizes Hades’s gravelly voice. She feels a hand on her shoulder and doesn’t look up, forcing herself instead to hide her fear. 

“Get up.” She rises to her feet. “Let’s go,” he growls.

Eurydice follows Hades as he leads her away from the river bank, finally gathering the courage to speak up as they enter the heart of Hadestown. “Where are you sending me?” she asks, keeping her voice non-confrontational to mask her fright. There are worse places in Hadestown than the factories, if rumors are to be trusted. 

“Home,” he responds, bitterly.

“Lord Hades, I reside in the east district,” she reminds him. “This is the wrong direction.”

He makes a sound of acknowledgement but does not change his course. Anxiously, Eurydice continues to let him guide her. For all of her months in Hadestown, the city may as well be new to her. Its perfect grid of streets is a labyrinth, impossible to navigate. Every building looks the same as the last, every street is a copy of the next. If she loses him, she may as well give up any hope of getting back to anywhere recognizable. 

Finally, the path ahead begins to look familiar. The railroad. A woman beckons to them to hurry. Hades hastens his pace. They arrive at the train station, where Eurydice had arrived so long ago. Persephone stands waiting. “Eurydice.” The Queen of the Underworld pulls her into a tight embrace. “It’s been too long.”

“How long?” Eurydice asks, monotone. It’s colder here on the railroad track. Much colder. 

Persephone frees Eurydice from her hug and looks the young woman up and down. “What’d he tell you, hon?” she asks, noticing Eurydice’s anxiety.

Eurydice shrugs. “”Home. That’s all he said.” She doesn’t trust herself to say more, the lump in her throat only growing.

“Home,” Persephone repeats. “That’s it? Hades, don’t you think you could’ve been a little clearer?” She glares at her husband. “Home on the surface, Eurydice.”

She draws in a little breath. “Orpheus?”

Persephone sighs and chews at her lip. “Mm hm.”

“What is it?” she asks, alarmed. “Is he alright?”

“I’ll explain on the way. Hades, you’ll handle things down here?” He nods. Persephone steps onto the train, offering Eurydice a hand. “I’ll be back before you know it, lover,” she reminds her husband.

Eurydice takes a seat in the nearest booth, her legs trembling. “Persephone?”

“I’m sorry, hon. I would’ve explained more if I’d had the chance. I expected my husband to...” She snorts. “Okay, no, I didn’t.” Eurydice’s expression doesn’t change. Persephone gives something of a half laugh, to fill the silence. She goes on: “He loves you, that Orpheus. More than anything. I want you to know that. No matter what happens up there, he loves you.”

Eurydice swallows, forcing back her terror. “Why are you telling me this?”

“He misses you.”

Unable to contain herself any longer, she raises her voice. “Take me back. I don’t want to see him.” She carries on, unsure what spurs her outburst. “Winter is here. His song’s a failure.”

Persephone looks at her with an unreadable expression. 

“That song... it’s no failure.” It’s Hermes who speaks up from the far corner of the train car. 

“Not a failure?” Eurydice snaps, forgetting herself as a mortal, disposable to these eternal beings. One word to Hades and she’d face a punishment far worse than the factories. Still, she goes on, the slip of paper she’d long held on to quivering in her hand. “It’s colder than ever. Even Hadestown feels this winter. I don’t want to go back only to lose everything! He’s... he’s gone.” She crumples the paper in her hand and throws it to the ground.

Hermes retrieves it. “Do you know where you got this?” he inquires, gently. 

“I don’t care,” she snarls.

“Orpheus folded it up like a flower. Just some old newspaper. You threw the rest to the fire, a last bit of kindling for warmth. But you didn’t dare to burn it all.”

She wipes her eyes, under the guise of brushing away loose hairs. “I should have,” she mutters.

He shakes his head. “You wouldn’t. You won’t.” She knows it’s true, but she can’t bring herself to admit it. “He needs you, Eurydice.”

“What do you want?” she inquires, sharply.

“He laments losing you,” Hermes informs her. “You’ll see him again.”

“Under what terms?” Her voice blunt and devoid of emotion, expecting some new impossible fight. A goal she’ll never reach.

Hermes sighs. “That you end this winter.”

“Then we may as well turn around,” she says, the defeat apparent in her tone.

“No. Eurydice,” he tells her, “Orpheus is the cause of this winter.” 

She almost laughs. “How? He’s a miserable poet, missing his lover. Nothing more. Orpheus is no god.”

“When he sings, the world sings with him. The world feels with him. Listen.”

She falls silent. Over the sound of the wheels on their icy tracks, she hears a melody on the wind, sorrowful and heart-wrenching. It catches her breath in her chest. She turns away, hiding her tears. 

“The world sees no light as long as he sings. Will you try to reach him?” He presses the slip of paper into her hands.

“Teach me the song,” she requests. “The old song.”

...

Orpheus has long since lost track of time. He cannot remember her name, the name of the one he sings this elegy for. She is faceless as she is torn from his arms again and again and again. 

The world, he finds, tires of his mourning. They had found him, women, worshipers of Dionysus. First, they had asked him to stop, drunken pleads. Whether or not he had heard them, no one could say. Finally, they had brought their blades upon him, maddened and miserable by his endless lament. 

He had hardly felt the sting of their knives at his flesh. And who were they to stop him? Orpheus had sung twice as loud. The winds heard him and, driven by the power of his melody, his attackers had been frozen solid.

Others had approached him, their faces blank before his unseeing eyes, blinded by the snow. They too had met cruel fates, fallen like flies, effortless. He had taken no pleasure in their deaths, nor despair in the harm he’d brought.  

Only once had he felt anything at all. Not remorse, not joy. Recognition, perhaps. In some far-off world, he’d known this man, divinity flowing in his blood. Orpheus had seen ichor stain the snow gold when he had thrown the man backwards, preventing his approach. Unlike the mortals he had warded off, this man had woken from his daze and he had fled. Once, Orpheus had wished he hadn’t gone. By now, he’s nearly forgotten the encounter. 

His song simply washes away all concept of memory or hunger or cold. All he knows is his faceless lover, torn away from him. He holds her now, pleading to keep her. With each failed attempt, she seems more featureless. She stays in his arms for shorter and shorter seconds before she fades to dust once more. 

He has no name to call to her before she’s gone. It is a nightmare and just as he wakes, he’s thrown back to relive it all over again. Yet he longs for her. He longs to see her again, just for a second. So he sings. As long as his melody rings in the air, he hopes she will be there. Another second. Another minute. Another day. He sees her. Again and again and again.

(Wow, I actually really like how this turned out! Usually I’m kinda meh about the writing of these fic parts, it’s more about the plot than the shiny words, but I quite like how this reads!)

#when hell freezes over au #hadestown au #hadestown #therainbowwrites

[neuxue]

Wheel of Time liveblogging: Towers of Midnight ch 10

An Asha’man contemplates personhood and Perrin finally has a meeting.

Chapter 10: After the Taint

Back to Perrin, who’s talking with Elyas and Grady and walking through camp and still not meeting Galad. His last chapter seemed like the last few moments before such a meeting, but I guess we’re drawing this out a bit more?

Ah, a fallen statue with a sword. Well, now I know generally where we are in the timeline, at least. That’s the statue Rand mentioned to Nynaeve (when he told her to dream on my behalf, Nynaeve; and yes, that still hurts).

Perrin’s second-guessing all his life choices—okay, in fairness, mostly just his recent strategic choices—and Elyas, voice of reason, is making the very good point that you can’t actually anticipate every eventuality. Or, as Lan might say, “You can never know everything, and part of what you know is always wrong. Perhaps even the most important part. A portion of wisdom lies in knowing that.”

Lan may not be there, but I’m glad Perrin has both Elyas and Tam with him. Both of them are good… not just grounding influences but I guess… steadying ones. They’re people who have gone through quite a lot of Life Experience, not all of it pleasant, and have emerged from it with a clear sense of who they are, and how they fit into the world around them. And Perrin needs people like that with him now; Rand needs people who help remind him he’s human, Mat needs his Greek chorus, and Perrin needs… people who have found that kind of balance within themselves, to show him it’s possible. Elyas, who has found his balance between man and wolf. Tam, the farmer and soldier, and neither of those lessening the other. In a way, I think they’re both not unlike the sort of person Perrin himself might be when he’s older.

I suppose what I’m getting at here is, it’s good for Perrin to have some role models.

Ugh, apparently the Two Rivers people are still judging Perrin for that time they think he slept with Berelain. Don’t slutshame the wolfboy, people; for all you know he has an open marriage!

…Okay anyone who’s met Faile could likely guess that’s not the case. But they should know better than to trust so much to rumour, especially when they know Perrin. Unfortunately, though, people are people. Also, you know, Wheel Of Absolutely No Communication and all that. Sigh.

Perrin wants to sneak into the Whitecloaks’ camp for a rescue mission, and Grady just wants to go Dumai’s Wells on their asses. Not…sure either of those is exactly a great solution here, boys. Have you considered talking? Oh, wait, no, forgot what series I’m reading.

He hated the idea of letting the Asha’man loose with impunity. The scent of burned flesh in the air, the earth ripped apart and broken. The scents of Dumai’s Wells. However, he couldn’t afford another distraction like Malden. If there were no other choice, he’d give the order.

And now he knows how Rand felt, when he did give that order.

Still, this could be taken as a small moment of growth for Perrin, to acknowledge—hating the idea but not letting it drag him fully into a crisis of self-hatred—that he could do this, will do this if he has to. That this is an option available to him, and that if it is necessary, he’ll do it. And being able to do that not in the moment (the way he sort of did with the Shaido prisoners, for example), and not in that desperate single-minded focus on finding Faile, but as a simple evaluation of the options available to him, in anticipation of what might be needed for this next task.

Still, for all their sakes, let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.

Not yet, though. There are no coincidences with ta’veren. The wolves, the Whitecloaks. Things he had been outrunning for some time were returning to hunt him.

Wow that sounds almost like self-awareness! And lack of denial! Again, to Perrin’s credit, he’s been alright at that for a little while now, but it’s still a big enough achievement that I’ll celebrate it whenever it happens with these boys.

But yes, Perrin. It’s the endgame of an epic fantasy series; there are no coincidences here.

The Whitecloaks had haunted him since his early days out of the Two Rivers. Dealing with them had never been simple.

It felt like the time had come. Time to make an end to his troubles with them, one way or another.

That, basically. Coming full circle and getting closure to an arc and all that fun stuff.

Which is another reason why this shouldn’t end in violence, perhaps. Because that’s what started all of this: Perrin fought the Whitecloaks, and killed two of them (and then several more, with Gaul, for old times’ sake), and had to Deal With That, both in his own mind acknowledging himself as a killer and with the consequences of it. And at every stage of this he’s been in conflict with the Whitecloaks. Fighting them directly, or at odds with them in the Two Rivers.

(They make such a good point of conflict for him too, especially when you set the Tuatha’an on the other side, because together they kind of represent an extreme version of some of the sides of Perrin’s own conflict within himself. The Tuatha’an as an extreme version of his wish for peace and his fear of the violence he carries within himself; the Whitecloaks as an extreme version of a determination to do the right thing.)

But now the Whitecloaks are being set up for a kind of redemption via Galad, and Perrin’s arc is drawing to a close for the endgame, and so it would fit both sides for this long-running conflict, which challenges the fundamentals of who they are, to come to a close not in violence but in alliance. To recognise in each other something to be admired rather than only something to be feared or hated. To see points of similarity rather than just irreconcilable difference. Because to do so would also, I think, mean accepting some of those things in themselves, so that they can all move forwards.

And on the subject of alliance where once was enmity, the Asha’man and Aes Sedai with Perrin have figured out linking. Well, Neald has, and Grady seems keen to get on board. Cooperation! Overcoming millennia-long barriers! Being stronger together!

“Light! It’s wonderful. We should have done this months ago.”

Or centuries, but it’s all relative, right?

I do love, though, that at almost every turn, once this kind of cooperation happens, it’s seen by those involved as something positive, treated with this kind of joyous amazement. Like Nynaeve’s first time as part of a circle, or this, or affirmations of friendship, or those moments when characters finally decide to be open or honest with one another. It’s almost always rewarded; it takes a hell of a lot of work and time and pain to get there, but once they do, it’s something good.

“I was wondering if I might…” [Grady] seemed hesitant. “Well, if I might have leave to slip over to the Black Tower for an afternoon, to see my family.”

Oh. Oh man. Okay I think I see where this is going. (The importance of having family, to keep him grounded, as Rand recognised so long ago when he first started gathering men who could channel, before he all but lost sight of his own anchors. And the taint is gone now so it’s safe, or at least safer…).

Also, please let Grady or someone go to the Black Tower because I need a Black Tower interlude. It has been far too long and there have been far too few in the first place. What is happening there. I need to know. Because of reasons.

Damn it Perrin let him go see his family! I mean okay fair, there’s a clear threat ahead and a possible threat behind so tactically yeah, not a great time. And he does agree to let Grady go at some point soon.

“You never worried about this before, Grady,” Perrin said. “Has something changed?”

“Everything,” Grady said softly. Perrin got a whiff of his scent. Hopeful. “It changed a few weeks back. But of course you don’t know. Nobody knows. Fager and I weren’t certain at first, and we weren’t sure if we should tell anyone for fear of sounding delusional.”

“Know what?”

“My Lord, the taint. It’s gone.”

And with it, the certain death sentence they’ve all been living under. It does change everything: once, they were weapons, because that was all they could hope to be in their brief time of power before madness. Once, all they could do in the end was die for this cause. Now, there’s a chance they can live for it. Can let themselves be more than weapons again, can hope for something more.

In its own way it’s yet another version of Rand’s realisation on Dragonmount, for all that this comes earlier chronologically (and for all that we’ve seen it happen already for some of the characters who were closer to the cleansing). This idea that there might be more to the future than death, more to give than a last stand and despair, more to be than a weapon.

The timing of this does seem kind of weird, given that the cleansing was several books ago now, and the explanation that they were waiting to be sure… eh, I suppose no one ever tells anyone anything in this series so it doesn’t strain suspension of disbelief too far. I suppose it just feels weird because everything about Perrin’s chapters up until now has felt like a building up of tension before his inevitable meeting with Galad, and this feels like a kind of random digression.

Not an unimportant one—this is lovely, and fits well in terms of where we are in the overall story in the sense of realisation of hope once thought lost—but just… somewhat oddly placed.

“Seems the sort of thing Rand might have been about,” Perrin said.

Which might just be the most chill reaction to hearing about the cleansing of saidin we’ve seen from anyone. Oh, a miracle? The removal of a three-thousand-year-old evil that has gradually destroyed so much of society and thrown the world out of balance? Yeah, that sounds like something Rand would do, cool, fair enough.

It probably helps that Perrin himself can’t channel, so all of this would feel a bit more… abstract, maybe? Which might make it easier to accept than it would be for someone to whom this is an integral part of their lives. Still, it makes me laugh.

“When I joined the Lord Dragon, I knew what would happen to me. A few more years and I’d be gone. Might as well spend them fighting. The Lord Dragon told me I was a soldier, and a soldier can’t leave his duty. So I haven’t asked to go back before now. You needed me.”

“That’s changed?”

“My Lord, the taint is gone. I’m not going to go mad. That means… well, I’ve always had a reason to fight. But now I’ve got a reason to live, too.”

This, exactly. The difference between having something to die for and having something to live for; dying for a cause and living for one. It’s adjacent to Rand’s own why do you fight question and realisation, but it’s also the realisation that there is something more than death ahead.

There’s a kind of honour, certainly, in knowing he’s going to die and deciding to at least make that death worth something—give that brief time before madness to some kind of cause, use this power that damns him to serve some goal. But now that’s not the only choice. Now he can decide to fight, still, but also to live, and to hope for something else; to be a soldier, yes, but not merely a weapon.

It’s one of those shifts in perspective that from one angle looks so slight but that actually means everything, that changes everything.

And again, while the specific timing in this chapter is a little weird, it otherwise is such a fitting realisation; sure, it’s technically before Dragonmount, but narratively it’s during this time when this kind of shifting perspective is spreading across the world from its epicentre: the mountain where hope first seemed to die and now at last has been restored. This realisation that there’s more than just a dark inevitability to the future; that instead there are choices and things to live for and possibilities and second chances.

(There’s one rather prominent character who still has yet to come to his own version of this realisation, but he’s riding towards it now, unless I am very much mistaken).

That was what Perrin had sensed in the Asha’man all along, the reason they held themselves apart, often seeming so sombre. Everyone else fought for life. The Asha’man… they’d fought to die.

That’s how Rand feels, Perrin thought.

Indeed. And almost surprisingly perceptive of Perrin; for a while in the middle he sort of… didn’t quite allow himself to see Rand’s despair and sadness. But he’s absolutely right, in this.

And he touches on another key part of this change, in that thought of the Asha’man holding themselves apart. Not quite letting themselves be part of the world in the same way as others, not allowing themselves connections and friendships and anchors; turning themselves to weapons (or, in Rand’s case, to steel, to cuendillar). Which then leads to a kind of apathy or despair, to no longer having anything to live for, because they allow themselves nothing, because they don’t allow themselves to be people. But now they can, and so Grady is reaching back out to those things that mattered, back when he was a person and not a weapon (like the veins of gold). Drawing on them once more to pull himself back, to let himself be himself again.

I suppose in a way this ties into where Perrin is in his own story as well, now that he has found Faile and come out of the other side of that single-minded despair in which nothing else mattered. Because he, too, is finding his footing again after that. Finding some kind of purpose. It’s not like-for-like, but it all ties together.

Grady laughed. It felt odd, but good, to hear that from the man.

Laughter and tears.

Oh, are we actually going to get the meeting with Galad now?

“There is a stranger riding along the road towards camp. He flies a flag of peace, but he wears the clothing of these Children of the Light.”

FINALLY.

Oh good Tam is here. Tam is a good person to have around when everything’s likely to go to shit.

Ah it’s Dain Bornhald rather than Galad. That’s… not exactly ideal. He and Perrin didn’t precisely part on the best of terms. Or meet on the best of terms. Or ever interact on anything but the worst of terms, really.

Anyway Bornhald opens by calling Perrin a criminal so we’re off to a great start.

“It is you. The Light has delivered you to us.”

“Unless it has also delivered you an army three or four times the size of the one you have now,” Perrin called, “then I doubt very much that it will matter.”

I’m always here for Perrin’s backtalk, of course, but I’m pretty sure an outright threat isn’t going to help this situation any. Then again, it was more or less a lost cause as soon as Bornhald showed up, given I don’t think anything but a severe concussion and possibly amnesia is going to change his opinion of Perrin, so.

Perrin’s attempting something vaguely resembling diplomacy, in that he’s basically saying ‘why don’t we just ignore each other until we’re out of sight’, but Bornhald’s not so keen on that option. Unsurprisingly.

“But I will leave that for the Lord Captain Commander to explain. He wishes to see you for himself.”

YES. FINALLY.

Though Perrin’s not so keen on walking into what could very likely be a trap, and Tam’s thinking much the same thing… but hey, he’s ta’veren; what could possibly go wrong? When has knowing they’re walking into a trap ever gone anything but perfectly well for any of these characters? (Don’t answer that).

“Burn me, Tam. I have to at least try before attacking them.”

That’s… a fair point, at least given Perrin’s own sense of honour and morality. It’s part of his ongoing conflict with the Whitecloaks as well, really: at none of their encounters has he actually wanted to kill them, or to attack first. He’s not out hunting them, and while he does sort of bear a grudge against them now, it wasn’t always that way. It’s just that there’s quite a lot of bad blood there, and even in the early days things went south quickly, and so it inevitably ended in bloodshed.

The six of them broke away from camp, and blessedly, Faile didn’t seem to have heard what was happening. Perrin would bring her if there was a longer parley or discussion, but he intended this trip to be quick, and he needed to be able to move without worrying about her.

Kind of a shame, given that she could be an asset in a discussion or negotiation. But at least he knows that well enough to be thinking of bringing her along if there’s going to be extended talking, I suppose. Would Galad know her? Maybe not on sight, but I’d imagine he might know her name, and certainly would know her father’s… that could help. Or not; who knows.

HI GALAD.

The tall man had fine features and short, dark hair. Most women would probably call him handsome. He smelled… better than the other Whitecloaks.

This description is just trying way too hard to emphasise the ‘no homo’ that it pretty much runs screaming in the other direction, and I’m laughing.

“Goldeneyes,” the man said. “So it is true.”

“You’re the Lord Captain Commander?” Perrin asked.

“I am.”

Oh, of course we’re doing this without Perrin ever getting his name. Of course. I can’t quite decide if that strains my suspension of disbelief or not, but either way: ARGH. Then again, Perrin’s never actually met Galad and doesn’t know that Maighdin is Morgase, and barely even knows Elayne, so knowing Galad’s identity might not actually help him all that much.

“What will it take for you to release the people of mine you’re holding?”

“My men tell me they tried such an exchange once,” the Whitecloak leader said. “And that you deceived them and betrayed them.”

Well, yes, they would say that. But Galad, you of all people should know that there are probably more sides to that particular story, especially given you’re not getting it from an unbiased source.

Galad keeps listing out Perrin’s alleged crimes, some of which could be argued to be true (killing Whitecloaks); some of which are bullshit (leading Trollocs to attack his own village), but none of which he has any actual evidence for, beyond the word of his own men. Their word against Perrin’s, and it seems like Galad should also know that just because he’s the Lord Captain Commander now, and trying to drag this organisation kicking and screaming into some kind of redemption, doesn’t mean everyone in it is suddenly noble and honourable and not lying outright to him.

Or even that they’re mistaken. That, as is so often the case, there’s just more to the story. That maybe the people whose information he’s relying on didn’t know everything that was actually happening. Which is closer to the truth, really; Bornhald genuinely believes Perrin is evil, and so everything else gets filtered through that lens of confirmation bias.

“I want a more formal parley, where we can sit down and discuss. Not something improvised like this.”

“I doubt that will be needed,” the Whitecloak leader said. “I am not here to bargain. I merely wanted to see you for myself. You wish your people freed? Meet my army on the field of battle. Do this, and I will release the captives, regardless of the outcome.”

I am a little surprised Galad outright refuses Perrin’s request to sit down and talk about this like adults. Because sure, he’s seen Perrin now, but what information does that tell him? It’s a perfectly reasonable request, and nothing Perrin’s said to him has been particularly unreasonable, and again, Galad should know better than to just take as absolute truth everything he’s been told.

Then again, Bornhald told him the truth about Valda and Morgase, so maybe that’s earned him Galad’s trust? Still, it seems odd that he wouldn’t give Perrin some kind of chance—a trial, or a conversation—to defend himself, before challenging him to a battle, where so many more people could die.

I just don’t get Galad sometimes, but what else is new.

“Your force will face ours under the Light,” the Whitecloak leader said. “Those are our terms.”

So you’re just going to sentence some of your own people to death in order to determine this, rather than… talk? Sure. Okay. Trial by combat by proxy; why the hell not.

I’m still guessing it’s not actually going to come to that, somehow, though I can’t quite see how. Unless Galad sees Morgase. That’s the only thing I can think of that could potentially stop this from turning into the mess it’s currently heading for.

He could take the Whitecloak leader captive right here, with barely a thought.

Perrin was tempted. But they had come under the Whitecloak’s oath of safety. He would not break the peace.

That’s some rather weird logic, if you’re intending to then meet him on the field of battle. Capture one person, and the cost is breaking an oath of peace. Keep that oath of peace, and the cost is, very probably, the lives of some of the people following you.

I mean okay, I get it, truce flags should be honoured because otherwise Bad Things Happen, but… eh. Like with a lot of the ‘rules’ of warfare, sometimes thinking about it too hard gets a bit weird.

***

Oh we get a Galad POV now, so maybe his thinking will make more sense. Though admittedly I don’t hold out a great deal of hope for that, because again, Galad’s thought process just baffles me sometimes.

Those golden eyes were unsettling. He had discounted Byar’s insistence that this man was not merely a Darkfriend, but Shadowspawn. However, looking into those eyes, Galad was no longer certain he could dismiss those claims.

Come on, Galad, did no one ever teach you not to judge people by their appearance?

Like, on the one hand… okay, people he trusts have told him some pretty terrible thing about this guy, and he does have (apparently) unsettling eyes, and he didn’t deny any of the accusations Galad listed out. And confirmation bias, again, is a strong thing. It does make sense that he would be wary of Perrin, and expect him to be an enemy, to potentially be evil, and to see that at least his physical description matches what he was told so maybe the rest does, too.

It’s just frustrating.

“They would not have harmed me,” Galad said.

So you’ll believe he’s a monster, but also that you were safe?

To be fair, his reasoning for why he was safe does make sense, more or less, given what he knows and (mostly) what he assumes.

“If he is as you and Child Byar say, then he worries greatly about his image. He didn’t lead Trollocs against the Two Rivers directly. He pretended to defend them.” Such a man would act with subtlety. Galad had been safe.

Well, it makes sense if you partially discard Occam’s Razor and also fail to account for the possibility that he’s not as Bornhald and Child Byar say. Then again, if that’s true, then Galad was also safe, because Perrin’s not a monster or a threat.

Alright, fine, Galad, I’ll give you that one.

Those eyes… they were almost a condemnation by themselves.

Seriously, people, what is it with determining a person’s morality by their eye colour? You live in a world with literal magic! Sometimes weird shit happens!

And Aybara had reacted to the mention of the murdered Whitecloaks, stiffening. Beyond that, there was the talk his people gave of him in alliance with the Seanchan and having with him men who could channel.

Again, I can just about see where Galad’s coming from, and how he’s putting the pieces together, but I wish he’d stop for just a moment to consider that maybe there’s more to the story. But then, he’s hardly the only person in this series to come to not-entirely-accurate conclusions based on flawed or incomplete information. They’re all just working with what they have, and sometimes what they have is wrong, but… well, if I gave Lan’s a portion of wisdom quote to Perrin earlier, I suppose it’s only fair I grant Galad the same courtesy now. He doesn’t have perfect evidence that what he’s been told is right, but it paints a compelling enough picture, and he doesn’t have much evidence to the contrary, either.

Better to defeat this Aybara now, than to wait and face him at the Last Battle. As quickly as that, he made his decision. The right decision. They would fight.

Morgase, get over here; we need you.  

Previous (ToM ch 9)

#people made into weapons getting to be people again! #it's a thing okay #Wheel of Time #neuxue liveblogs WoT #Towers of Midnight

[softboywriting]

A Perfect Fall

Summary: You and Shawn have been best friends for most of your lives and since you were a teenager you’ve had a crush on him. He has no idea, or so you think. Things are about to change, and all it takes is a trip to the best pumpkin patch around for true feelings to surface. [fluff] [best friends to lovers] [fall/autumn theme]

Word Count: 4k

|Masterlist In Bio|

If someone were to ask you your favorite color you would say gold. Gold like the leaves on the trees in the middle of October. Gold like the letters of Shawn’s last name gilded across the back of the letter man jacket that sits over your desk chair at home that he left there a year ago. Gold like the sun going down over the river on a cool autumn night. But most of all, gold, like the color Shawn's eyes are when he sits across from you in a barn an hour from your house and stares out at horses in the nearby corral. He's beautiful. Breathtaking. Outstanding in every way. He's your best friend in the entire world and he has no idea that you're completely gone for him, or does he? Let's go back to how this day started.

Beeping, incessant, droning beeping. The sound of your alarm clock going off at its regular time, seven in the morning. Right now you should be getting up and making yourself appear to be somewhat human before heading to class, praying you remembered all of your homework. You should be scrambling through your kitchen, grabbing a banana for breakfast as you head out to meet Shawn in his Jeep. Not this week though. It's the first day of Thanksgiving break and you're so happy to be able to smash that snooze button and bury your face into a pillow.

Your phone goes off, a low buzz buzz against the pillow your head is on. You've almost fallen back to sleep, nearly reached that floaty state of perfect warmth under the blankets that gives you an express ticket to dreamland. Almost.

Buzz buzz.

"For the love of everything holy, can you go away?" You groan angrily into the pillow. As if the phone might switch itself into silent mode out of pure fear. That would be that day wouldn't it?

Buzz buzz.

You slide your hand under the pillow and extract your phone, turn your head just enough to see the screen and lay it against the pillow next to you. Three missed messages.

Shawn: you awake?

Shawn: get up loser i have coffee

Shawn: I'll come in there

You drop the phone on its face and tug your blanket up over your head. If he wants you to get up on your first day of this mini vacation from the hell that is your second year of college, he can come get you his damn self. He may be your best friend, and yes, you may be head over heels for him, but getting up early on vacation happens for no man.

The sound of rattling outside your window followed by a dull thump is a dead giveaway that Shawn has scaled your mother's new trellis and tripped on the old shingles of the back patio roof. Clumsy and dumb. That's Shawn for you.

"Get up, hey," he talks against the glass as if you'll hear him better by doing so but ends up only muffling his voice further. "I know you're up."

"Go away!"

"No!"

The latch on the window wiggles, you can hear a familiar scrape of his student ID card from his wallet against the wood of the window frame. You watch as the ancient lock flips 180 degrees and the window slides up, sending a cold gust of morning air into your bedroom.

"You're a dick." Shawn grumbles, squeezing through the narrow window frame. He's had trouble getting through it since freshman year of high school. Really the only reason he's climbing through it now is to avoid making too much noise coming in the front door and enduring the wrath of your dad who is surely still asleep because he works nights at the packing plant in town. Shawn woke him up once by just walking too loudly and that was enough.

"You're a dick for waking me up on my vacation." You roll over and face the wall.

Shawn flops on the bed, leaning over across your legs and waving something in your face. "I am not, I'm the best person ever."

"Nope."

"Come on! Look at the tickets!"

You slip your hand out of the blankets and snatch the papers from Shawn's hand. Two all access passes to the Friendly Farms Pumpkin Patch. You narrow your eyes at him and he raises his eyebrows. This is such an unfair move. He knows how much you love pumpkin patches and he knows that you've never been to the Friendly Farms Pumpkin Patch because it's so far away and it usually costs an arm and a leg if you don't buy preseason passes.

"Eh? Whatdya say? Me, you, old J-Bone and the open road to the best place to get your pumpkins this side of the river?"

You groan and drop the tickets on the pillow. "Okay! Okay fine I'll get up." You shove the blanket back and it covers his lap. "But stop calling the Jeep "J-Bone" it's so weird."

"She has a name okay, and I'm gonna call her by it."

You sit up and shove him down on the bed. "Freak."

"Only for you." He smirks, sticking his tongue out and making lewd licking motions.

"Oh God please stop." You throw your pillow at his face and get up to get dressed in whatever was semi clean. Laundry had taken a backseat to classwork these days, you’re planning on catching up during the break.

One big hoodie, Shawn's that he left at your house a few days ago, a pair of leggings under some fitted sweatpants and a lopsided ponytail later and you're ready to go. As promised Shawn has a coffee in the Jeep for you as well as a croissant breakfast sandwich.

"How long is this drive again?" You ask over a mouth full of buttery sausage and egg goodness. "An hour?"

"An hour and a half."

"I'm gonna go to sleep then."

Shawn chuckles. He pulls the Jeep out of your driveway and heads for the highway. "I have a feeling you'll stay awake."

"Why's that?"

"The drive is too beautiful to miss."

_________________________________

Shawn is absolutely correct. The drive down the highway is way too incredible to miss for just a few more minutes of sleep. Of course you've seen the trees around your town turn shades of red, orange and yellow before but driving through open roads where trees grow in massive forests completely unbridled by man, is an experience you won't soon forget. Never in your life have you seen so many different hues of fall colors at one time.

"Shawn, pull over, I need to get out and do something."

Shawn looks over and quickly turns off the highway onto the shoulder where the gravel meets the grass. "Everything okay?"

"More than okay." You grin and unbuckle your seatbelt. You open the passenger door and slide out, leaving the door open as you tromp across the grass to the edge of the forested area. Behind you Shawn kills the engine and you can hear his door open then close followed by your door being closed.

"What are you doing?" He laughs, following you into the trees. "We're not even at the pumpkin patch and you're going crazy."

"I've been crazy. You know that, come on, we've been friends for how long?"

"Twelve years and counting."

You stop before a tree that has bring pinkish red leaves on it. They're like no others around it and you pick up a few of the ones that have fallen. "Pink leaves." You hold them out and Shawn takes one.

"These are pretty. I've never seen them this color."

"Take my picture? I wanna remember this tree forever."

Shawn takes your phone and types in your pass code to unlock it. He's the only person on the planet who knows it beside you and you know his as well. "Alright, do you wanna pose or something?"

"I'm gonna throw a bunch of leaves up in the air and if you can, try to snap the picture as they fall around me?"

"I'll do my best." He chuckles and kneels down a bit to get you in full frame for a better angle.

"Okay on three? One, two, three!" You fling an arm full of leaves up into the air and laugh as they rain down over you.

"Nailed it."

"Really?!" You rush over and Shawn hands you the phone. Sure enough it's you standing and grinning at the leaves as they fall around you with the pink tree in the background. "Oh my God it's perfect."

Shawn puts his arm around you and starts walking back to the Jeep. "I've been messing around with my friend Josiah's camera a bit. He showed me a few tricks for everyday stuff."

"Oh wow, fancy boy."

"Shut up, I am not fancy."

"Fancy pants Mendes learning all the tips and tricks on photography to pick up chicks."

He scoffs. "Yeah, as if. I just wanted to try it out. Josiah takes some awesome photos and it looks so easy, I was curious how he did it."

"I'm just teasing you Shawn." You pat his chest as you reach the Jeep and he pulls his arm away from you. "I think it's cool that you're interested in photography. It's definitely something that could be useful one day."

"Like taking photos of you today."

You smile and let out a little laugh. "Yeah, definitely like today."

Shawn gets in the Jeep and you haul yourself up into the passenger's seat. "You ready for the real fun to begin?"

"Hell yeah. How many pumpkins do you think we can fit in the back of this thing?"

"I dunno," he says, looking into the back where the seats are down and then looks at you. "But we're not going to find out."

"Buzz kill."

"Sorry, but I'm not having my Jeep chock full of pumpkins."

"Psh, it's for science."

Shawn's rolls his eyes and signals as he pulls out onto the highway. The two of you have at least another forty minutes before you reach the farm. Shawn turns up the radio and you decide to lean the seat back and just enjoy the rest of the ride.

_________________________________

The entryway to the Friendly Farms Pumpkin Patch is huge. There are wrought iron gates with metal pumpkin cutouts all along the bars of the fencing with ivy like casts on the top. Shawn drives down the bumpy dirt road to the designated parking area and stops to park near the ticket windows and actual gates inside. There are maybe a dozen cars already parked as well, which considering the popularity of the place isn't hardly anyone. It's still early though, they have just opened for business at nine and it's only about a quarter till ten.

Shawn opens the back of the Jeep while you grab your backpack purse off the floor of the backseat. "Do you need a water bottle?"

"Yeah." You walk around to meet him. "I thought you were going eco friendly?"

"I am." He hands you a reusable metal bottle. "I promise I washed it this morning."

You slip the bottle into your side pocket and chuckle. "Like we haven't been sharing germs forever."

"True." He closes the door and pulls the tickets out of his back pocket. "Ready?"

"I was born ready."

Shawn wraps his arm around your shoulders and heads to the ticket windows. You're excited beyond belief to see what is in store for you beyond the corn stalk covered gates before you. It's going to be perfect.

_________________________________

To say the pumpkin patch is beyond expectations would be about right. You and Shawn walk past the ticket booths and through the gates into a whole town built up around the fall theme. There are shopping booths, food booths, a sign for a corn maze, a hay rack ride, and the pumpkin patch. There is a whole slew of games and places to take photos as well and all that is just what you can see when you walk inside. There's a whole path along the shops that just keeps going and you are floored.

Shawn grins at you, beaming, because you're beaming right back at him. He knew this place was going to be great. Photos online just didn't do it justice. "What do you wanna do first?"

"Just...take it all in." You walk forward toward the center of the town like set up where there is a huge wooden windmill, hay bales and benches all sitting in a circle around it.

Shawn walks along beside you and chuckles. "It's pretty awesome."

"Awesome isn't the word." You laugh and plop down on a hay bale next to a smiley homemade scarecrow. "It's a dream, Shawn."

"I'm glad." He thumbs toward a nearby caramel apple stand. "Let's get a snack and start this day right huh?"

"You read my mind."

_________________________________

You and Shawn spend the whole late morning into the early afternoon wandering around, checking out the entire lay out of the pumpkin patch. You grab cider around eleven and then cocoa at noon. A late lunch consists of a shared smoked turkey leg, a funnel cake and some tomato salad that was being made fresh by some little old ladies at a booth near the center of the patch. The food is incredible and you and Shawn take turns feeding each other bites of this and that, giggling when one of you ends up with powdered sugar on your face from the funnel cake.

Spending time like this with Shawn is the best and worst thing to ever happen to you. It's a glimpse at what life with him would be like if you were together. Your heart swells every time he leans in to say something about the scenery that he’s noticed because you think he's going to kiss you.

Lunch wraps up and Shawn goes to toss your trash in a nearby oak barrel that's set up as a trashcan. He dusts his hands off on his jeans and pulls his sweater off over his head. "Here," he holds it out to you and you raise your eyebrows.

"Why do I want it?"

"Because you're going to get cold on the hayrack ride."

"Psh no I won't."

"Yeah you will." Shawn bunches up the sweater from the bottom up and holds it out for you to put your arms in. "Come on, I know you wanna."

You stick your arms out and he helps you get the sleeves over them and tugs the sweater down so your head pops through the neck hole. "It's so warm." You look down and pull out the soft knit fabric that's far too large on you. "You must be like a thousand degrees."

Shawn shrugs. "I'm always hot. You've slept with me, you know that."

"I-I-" You freeze, brain definitely going down a very different road from what Shawn means.

"Yes?" He chuckles.

"I have not slept with you."

"Well, not like that but... y'know." He shrugs and you knit your brows together.

What does that mean? Y'know what? What do you know? Does he want to sleep with you like that? What...just what?

Shawn waves his hand in your face. "Hey, earth to space cadet. The hayrack ride is gonna be boarding soon."

"Oh! Yeah!" You shake your head and start walking toward the signs pointing to the line for it. Shawn follows close behind, throwing his arm around your shoulders and leaning his head on yours.

You and Shawn take a seat at the back of the ride on a hay bale covered with a red plaid blanket. He's completely right about you needing his sweater. It is a lot colder up off the ground with the breeze from the moving ride blowing around you.

"Look, there's the pumpkins!" Shawn says, pointing to the left.

You look over through the slats of the walls of the ride. Sure enough there is a sea of orange pumpkins and deep green leaves that are yellowing with age as the plants are ready to be picked. There are a couple of very big ones and you definitely need one of those. You don't care how you get it to the car, you need it.

"Check those out," you say, pointing out the massive pumpkins.

"Holy cow those gotta be like fifty pounds."

"I want one."

"Okay."

You sit back and stare at him with your eyes wide. "Okay? You're not gonna convince me to get a few small ones instead?"

"Nope." He grins. "I'll buy you that pumpkin there."

"What's the catch?"

"No catch."

You narrow your eyes but don't argue the deal any further. He must have some motive. There has to be some catch. Maybe he'll say you have to move it or something. Seems fishy.

The ride stops at the entrance to the pumpkin picking area and you and Shawn get off with a few other visitors. There are tons of great pumpkins all around but you waste no time heading for the giant ones.

"How are you going to lift that?" Shawn pipes up as you reach them.

"Well, that's why I've got you."

"Oh? I'm gonna lift that?"

"Please?" You pout your lip out. "You said you'd buy it for me."

"I did." He chuckles, circling the giant orange mass. "I sure did."

"Regretting that?"

"Absolutely not."

You put your hands into the sleeves of Shawn's sweater and put them over your ears. They're cold and you wish you'd brought a hat or even some earmuffs. "Can I get it? For real?"

"Yes." Shawn kneels down and lifts the pumpkin up with ease. "Let's go."

"Isn't that heavy?"

"Not that heavy." He smirks and you walk next to him out of the patch to the line of employees waiting with ATVs that have little trailers attached for carrying visitors pumpkins to their cars or to the front entrance to drop them off until they leave.

"Name and car description?" The woman at the ATV asks as Shawn loads up the pumpkin.

"Ah-"

"Mendes with an s. Black four door Jeep Wrangler." Shawn says, dusting his hands off. "We'll pick it up at the gates."

"Alrighty." The woman scribbles down Shawn's information and peels a sticker of her clipboard to put on the pumpkin. "You got a big one eh?"

"Yes." Shawn wraps his arms around you and lays his chin on top of your head. "Biggest one for my best friend."

"That's so sweet. Would you like to pay here or at the gate?"

"Here." Shawn pulls his wallet out and hands over a ten dollar bill, the rate for extra large pumpkins from the yard. "Thank you ma'am."

"It's what we do," she says with a smile and a tip of her floppy straw hat. "I'll see this baby up to the gates. Have a friendly fun time!"

You and Shawn wave her off as she drives away with your pumpkin.

Shawn pulls away from you and grabs your sweater covered hands. "Wanna go over to the barn and feed the horses?"

You glance over at the big red barn where they show the horses and cattle throughout the day. "Sure. It doesn't look took busy."

Shawn turns around and squats down. "Get on my back, I'll carry you over there."

"What? Why? I can walk!" You laugh and he pats his back.

"Come on!"

"Okay okay, don't have to tell me twice." You climb on his back and he hoists you up so he can hook his arms under your legs. It reminds you of when you were nine and you first met. Shawn was big then too, tall for his age and athletic as ever being in hockey almost year round. He would always give you piggy back rides around the yard to catch lightning bugs on hot summer nights.

Shawn drops you off on a haybale near the first stall inside the barn. There is literally no one in there at the moment and you have the place all to yourselves. "I'm going to get a couple of drinks. Any preference?"

"Cider is fine. Hot please."

He disappears and you lean back against the old wooden wall. Today has been one of the best days of your life hands down. It's everything you love all wrapped into one, a pumpkin patch, oversized sweaters, hot cider, pumpkin picking...Shawn. You sigh and chuckle to yourself. Did Shawn realize how romantic this is? Did he have any clue how it must seem to any stranger passing by? The two of you would be the cutest couple. The dynamic is there, but what you lack is a pair of balls to say or do anything.

"Hot cider." Shawn says, handing you your brown paper cup and sitting down on the hay bale opposite you. "Fresh too."

"Thanks." You smile as you sip the warm spicy sweet liquid.

Shawn stares out at the corral nearby, eyes catching and sparkling in the late afternoon sun. He's gorgeous. Everything about him makes your heart soar. From his soft eyes to his slightly rough hands curled delicately around his paper cup, he is truly the only person you've cared so deeply for.

"Can I ask you something?" You say softly, barely realizing you've spoken. Too late to take it back now.

"Anything."

"Why haven't we ever gone out?"

He chuckles, a wide smile spreading across his face like wildfire. "Haven't we though?"

"No?"

"Can I tell you something?"

You lean forward, setting your cup beside your folded legs on the hay bale. "Of course, anything."

"This was supposed to be a date." He bites his lip and looks down, thumb circling the spout of his lid. "I was going to ask you out, like, for real."

"W-what?"

"Yeah." He laughs, looking up, anywhere but at you. "I chickened out though. I didn't ask you, I just sort of handed you the tickets and said let's go. Which in retrospect was fine, but it's definitely not what I had planned on doing."

"You wanted to take me on a date?"

"Yeah?"

"You...you want to be more than friends?"

Shawn rubs the back of his neck. "Shit, I guess? It's weird. You make me happier than literally anyone I've ever dated. You get my jokes and you sass me right back when I get smart with you. You're really beautiful and sexy in this crazy everyday way without even trying. And you're so smart and- how could I not want to date you? I've literally been so stupid for my entire life because I-"

You lean across the hay bale and press your lips to his. It's a moment you've been waiting for since you were thirteen years old and first realized you had feelings for him. You didn't expect to be the one initiating the kiss but here you are and there Shawn is. You pull back and Shawn just gawks at you.

"That was...you...you taste like apple cider."

You giggle. "You do too, dork."

"Can we do it again?" He asks, putting his cup aside and leaning toward you. "I think I need another taste."

"Mmhmm."

Shawn cups your cheeks and brings you in, kissing you lovingly like this is his way of making up for the last twelve years of your lives. He tugs you forward gently and you crawl over onto his lap, straddling his thighs as you grip his hair. It's been forever since he's had a haircut and it's a bit long, soft as can be, curly and absolutely grabable.

"Hey," he mutters, pulling back just enough to break the kiss. He bumps his nose to yours and you open your eyes to see his beautiful green and gold flecked hazel ones staring back at you. "Do you wanna go out with me?"

You smile and nudge his nose with yours once more. "I thought you'd never ask."

End.

----------------------

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Thank you so much for reading this piece!  - A

*****Note: none of my works should be posted anywhere outside of my linked accounts. I do not give permission to repost with or without credit to my accounts. Please notify me of any reposted fics.*****

#stories #friends to lovers

[redcameleon]

Superstar Series

Chapter 14: Acceptance

Summary: They both finally talk about their relationship and Sasuke is ready to accept his feelings. 

Rating: K+

“Thank you everyone!” Hands clasped together, the members make a final bow before waving goodbye to their fans and exiting the stage. As they pass by the security guards and staff members, they all give a warm smile, patting them on their shoulders and giving them a “Good job!” or “Great work!”.

Their hearts never felt this light. Their bodies might be sore, but it is a good kind of soreness. It feels gratifying. They may be physically drained, but emotionally fulfilled.  

“Great job everyone!” Claps and cheers ring through the backstage area. They just finished their last performance of the tour. They all feel mixed emotions, somewhat feeling bittersweet. Relief, joy, and pride dominates their mind mixed with sadness, frustration, and regret. Just as they are happy that they finally finished the tour, they can never be one hundred percent satisfied with their performance. There are so many places to improve. Suigetsu still beats himself up for his injury. But they keep reassuring one another that this is just the beginning. Even though their first tour might not be the most perfect, it only means there are more room for improvement.

Exiting the venue in a few vans, the members roll down the window as they greet some fans who are still waiting outside the venue. Their cheers boom through the air. The members wave through their car window, feeling bubbly.

“Wow that was amazing! The crowd tonight was killing it!” Naruto exclaims with excitement.

“I know, right? So this is why people go on tours.” Kiba agrees, leaning on his car seat. They all finally let out a breath they didn’t know they were holding.

“How’s the foot?” Sasuke asks Suigetsu. A couple days have passed since his injury, and no matter how fast he heals, he’s still human after all.

“It feels a lot better now that I can finally relax.” They let a few moments pass by with just silence between them.

“So, after party?” Kiba chimes in with a sarcastic manner, eliciting a laugh from all of them.

“Are you crazy? I’m beat man! I’m just gonna order some room service and sleep.” As excited as Naruto sounds, he’s pretty much drained. They all are. Sasuke can imagine himself relaxing under the nice hot shower. He looks to the view outside the window as his mind wanders off to a certain someone.

He wasn’t able to get much alone time with her after the concert, especially with everyone so busy cleaning up. The members practically dragged him out of the venue so they could get to the hotel as quickly as possible.

I should probably see her tonight, he thinks.

.

.

“Itadakimasu!” In a flash they all dig into their meals, thank Kami their food was delivered in a jiff. All the tension and stress are finally being stripped off as they let themselves relax in Sasuke’s hotel room, contrary to Sasuke’s idea.

“Now that the tour’s over, I think we deserve some time off.” Suigetsu comments. Certainly, their company is crazy if they expect them to start working again in the next couple of days.

“Ugh a short vacation would be nice.” Naruto sinks back in his chair after devouring a whole plate of steak and two pastas.  

“Sasuke, now that Sakura’s back, any developments?” Kiba leans closer to him, giving him a mischievous look. Kiba always has a knack in getting Sasuke to talk.

“I don't know.” Sasuke sets down his utensils. “It’s been… awkward.”

“We know.” Kiba comments as he laughs. Surely, they are not blind. “I think you just have to be forward with her.” Sasuke looks over to the rest of them and they all nod in agreement.

Letting out a long sigh, he sinks further back in his chair.

.

.

Sakura opens her door and peers to the hallway, scanning for any signs of life. Seeing that it is clear, she steps outside and heads towards Sasuke’s room.

Things were really hectic back at the venue, and she barely had any chance to talk to him. Before she knew it, he was already being dragged back to the hotel. Sighing in defeat, she figures this is her only chance to talk to him in private.

They all have the rest of the evening off, so she gathers all her courage to take this opportunity to finally have a talk. No more beating around the bush. The least she can say is a job well done and a congratulations on the successful tour. At least that’s what she has planned.

Nervousness is still holding onto her as she keeps pacing back and forth in front of his door. Thank goodness no one is there to see her, otherwise they will probably find her weird.

She inhales and exhales a few times before finally gathering up her courage and stepping in front of the door, hand lifted to knock. Before she can even land her fist, the door swings open and comes out a certain Uzumaki.

Sakura’s eyes widen in shock as she steps back a few steps.

“Hey Sakura-chan.” Naruto closes the door behind him.

“Hey Naruto.” She clasps her hands behind her back out of nervousness, as if she has been caught doing something illegal.

“What are you doing here?”

“Oh nothing, just on my way back to my room.” Sakura quickly turns towards her room, realizing what a terribly excuse that is when it’s so obvious she is there to talk to Sasuke.

“Hey Sakura-chan?” Naruto softly calls her and steps towards her. She turns around to see him. He places a hand on her shoulder.

“I’m glad you came back.” Expecting him to call out her lie, she is left there standing in shock. Her heart melts at his gesture. It feels good to be appreciated. She will forever be grateful for him.

She returns his smile with one that is just as soft.

“Don’t worry they’ll be done in a minute.” Naruto winks and Sakura swears her face just got a few shades darker. Yep he caught me.

She gives him an awkward laugh before he walks pass her towards his room. As if on cue, the rest of the members walk out of Sasuke’s room, greeting her in the hallway.

“Oh hey Sakura.”

“Have a good night.” Sakura greets them out of politeness, giving them a tiny bow. As soon as they all enter their rooms, Sakura walks up to Sasuke’s door and gathers all the courage she can muster to knock on his door.

“Who is it?” She hears Sasuke speak.

“It’s me.” Her voice is soft but loud enough for him to hear, because he immediately opens the door.

“Hey.” She notices how his eyes widen, perhaps her presence there is that surprising.

“Can I come in?” Sasuke steps to the side, allowing her in before closing the door with a click.  

“You guys were really great on stage!”

“Thanks.” He notes the way she tries to avert her gaze. This can’t be the only reason she’s here, Sasuke thinks.

She takes a seat on the edge of his bed and readies her heart. They both let silence fill the gaps as they prepare themselves.

“Sakura-”

“Wait, can I go first?” She holds up her hand, and Sasuke nods before she continues. “I know these past few weeks had been… well, tense and awkward.” Sasuke lowly chuckles.

“I just feel really confused. I know you wanted to end things between us, but I keep getting mixed signals from you. Back when we met at the river…“ Sasuke’s mind drifts back to that coincidental meeting. “You said you missed me?”

Oh he certainly did, and still does.

“Aa.”

“Well what does that mean? Do you just miss seeing me around?” Sasuke opens his mouth to answer, but Sakura raises her hand again.

“Wait no don’t answer that yet.” She lets out a sigh and squares her shoulders. “You know I still like you, right? I don’t think I’ll ever get over it as long as I’m constantly around you. But I need to know if you feel the same way, because honestly Sasuke-kun, I can’t read you at all!” She throws her hands in frustration.

Sakura has been trying to read him for weeks, but Sasuke is doing a very good job guarding himself, putting up a wall between them. Just when she thinks he doesn’t like her anymore, his gaze would linger on hers longer, and he would stand next to her in a room filled with people. Could she call it false hope? Perhaps.

“All this time I’ve been convincing myself that that’s just how you are. That you’re nice to everyone. A part of me really hopes that you still have feelings for me. But a part of me is trying to throw away that hope.” She lowers her head and he can see her spirits sinking. He notices how she continues to fiddle with her fingers and Sasuke is just begging for her to finish already and let him speak.

“Cus honestly, I don’t think I can keep working here like this. I’m just tired. I don't think our relationship could ever work.”

“Sakura.” This time, she lets him continue. He takes a step closer to her, still putting themselves at an arm’s length. “I’m sorry I put you in this position. I was foolish to think our relationship doesn’t matter. It was selfish of me to put my career first.” She looks up to him, eyes glistening with tears and pent up emotions that Sasuke knows she hasn’t let out yet.

“I understand where you’re coming from, though. Being an idol is tough. I get that, so I respect your decision.”

“No. Don’t respect my decision. Cause I don’t want to lose you.” He takes another step closer, causing their knees to bump into each other. He kneels down in front of her, taking her hands in his.

“I’m sorry I’ve hurt you. I regret saying all of those things to you. When you were gone, I realized that all this success will mean nothing if I don't have anyone to celebrate it with.” He gives her hands a squeeze and Sakura feels a tug in her heart. Slowly, she can feel her heart melting from his words.

“I’m sorry.” Sakura lowers her head again and this time, he feels droplets of warm tears on his palm. She’s crying. He doesn’t try to stop her, but lets the tears flow, carrying her sadness.

“Don’t be sorry. Please. I know we have a connection, and I don’t want to lose that. I don’t want to lose you.” Sasuke has met so many people. Reporters, staff members, producers, directors, actors, actresses, and fellow singers. But he has never felt a connection with any of them, until Sakura. Being with her at this moment, as they both expose their vulnerabilities in front of each other, Sasuke realizes he is ready to accept his feelings. He is ready to accept the way things are with her.  

“Sakura. I still like you. I want us to work.” Sakura lifts her head to meet his gaze, and she feels overwhelmed with the sincerity and intensity behind his eyes. They drill through her, tugging her heart strings. At that moment, her heart feels so much lighter, she feels a sense of warmth spreading through her body.

Impulsively, she launches herself to him, wrapping her arms around him and burying her face in the nook of his neck. Her tears no longer carry sadness. His hands find sanctuary around her form, pulling her closer. He lets her warmth engulf him, soothe him.

After a few moments or so, she pulls back as they stare into each other, emeralds meeting obsidians. His hands travel to her cheeks, wiping away the tears. He pulls her close, his lips meeting hers in a soft kiss. How he has longed for this feeling. For the feeling of her lips on his. How he has longed for her. Now that she’s finally here with him, physically and emotionally, he’s never felt this whole.

They let their lips move in unison. Sasuke slowly carries her further onto the bed, laying on top of her. For now, the whole world seems to melt around them, leaving them in their own world.

Their moment seems to be disturbed when he hears a slight knock and some shuffling from outside, accompanied by light whispering. He grunts in frustration before he stands up and moves to the door, leaving an amused Sakura.

He almost angrily opens the door and glares at whoever is outside making all that noise. True to his suspicions, he finds the other three members, almost losing their balance from eavesdropping.

“What?”

“So… How did it go?” Naruto winks at him, only to be met by a door to his face. They all smirk before the door opens just slightly to reveal half of Sasuke’s face.

“It went well.” For a second Naruto swears he sees Sasuke smile before he closes the door again. Patting each other on their backs, they all smile victoriously, obviously happy for their teammate as they walk away, giving the two love birds some privacy.

Sasuke lets out a sigh as he goes back to continue their previous activity. Sakura has gone her way to move under the covers, claiming one side of the bed. He instinctively slides in beside her, scootching closer to her.

“What was that about?” Sakura chuckles. Sasuke merely shrugs his shoulders, grabbing her chin and pulling her into another kiss. She smiles under his lips as her hands start to roam under his shirt, feeling the toned muscles underneath, causing him to stifle a groan.

“Not tonight. Too tired.” Sakura smiles and retracts her hand. She lets her hand rest on his torso as he snakes his arm around her, pulling her closer to him. He lets his head rest on top of hers, feeling the way her finger trace lazy circles on his chest.

They don’t say a word, but let each other’s presence soothe them. As sleep finally catches up to him, Sasuke thinks this will be the best sleep he’ll ever have.  

.

.

.

to be continued.

A/N: I have one more chapter for this story! stay tuned ;)

<--Chapter 13        Chapter 15-->

#ssff #ssfanfiction #sasusaku fanfiction #sasusaku #sasuke #sakura #otp #fanfic #redcameleon!writes #superstar!series

[sincerelyreidburke]

Omg can I please have a fic where Quinn (possibly backed by all of SMH) absolutely throws down N*te. And then maybe comforts a Sad Nando bc nando is Soft and needles all the cuddles and support

Okay, this has been in popular demand for quite some time now. It may be 1:31 AM, but I’m counting this as a little birthday present for Nando.

Set during Quinn’s summer in Arizona. :D

//

One of the first steps of taking your boyfriend home for the summer is showing him around.

For the past six days, that’s what Nando has taken it upon himself to do. He can’t believe, actually, that he and Quinn have been home from school for an entire week already— well, a week tomorrow, but still— and yet here they are, arrived at the last day of Nando’s extensive tour of the Phoenix metro area. They’ve spaced it out— something one day, something another— like dinner at Tio’s one night, an afternoon meeting his best friends from home, showing Quinn his childhood rink.

He’s satisfied with his own performance as a tour guide, but tomorrow means his first shift at Tio’s restaurant, which means that summer job season is really beginning. Which, like, obviously he and Quinn can still hang out— they’re living under the same roof; and if it’s not Mama or one of the girls, Quinn is the first person he sees every morning. It’s just that once he has a summer job schedule, their days won’t be entirely their own anymore.

For Quinn, he knows, that might be a little weird, at least for these first three weeks until Gabi and Rosa get out of school. Once they’re done, the summer theatre stuff starts up, and Quinn is getting paid to do that, so he’ll have something to do.

In the meantime, though, Nando knows he brought things with him. Like his knitting stuff. And a few books. And his camera.

And until tomorrow, the time is still theirs.

“Okay, my love,” Quinn says, at the kitchen table, over his toast and eggs. The morning is all theirs; Mama is at work, so once they got the twins out the door and onto the bus, Nando made him breakfast. “What’s on the agenda today?”

Nando grins at him. “Oh, you’re curious?”

He shrugs. “In a way.” He’s wearing a baggy KMH shirt tucked into his pajama bottoms, and he hasn’t even done his hair yet. Nando lives for seeing him like this— his obsessively proper boyfriend, who won’t be caught dead in jeans outside of a party, in his pajamas in his family’s kitchen.

It has been six days, and having Quinn at home has given him enough fuel for domestic daydreaming to last a lifetime.

It’s going to be a good summer.

“Well, I saved a good thing for last,” Nando tells him, reaching for his hand across the table. “We’re going to the beach.”

Quinn raises his eyebrows, skeptical. “In Arizona.”

“Yes,” he chirps back, because two can play at this game. “I’m driving you eight hours south to the ocean. Do you have your passport?” Quinn laughs a little, and he adds, “No, baby, the beach by the river. There’s a little park there. We can sit by the water in the sun.”

“Ooh.” Quinn smiles. “That sounds lovely.”

“But first,” he adds, squeezing his hand. “I’m taking you to my favorite Starbucks.”

Quinn cocks his head, with amusement in his smile now. “You have a favorite Starbucks?”

“You don’t have a favorite Starbucks?” he replies.

“I…” He trails off a little. “I can’t say I do, actually.”

“Well, I’ll educate you.” He brings his hand to his face, kisses it, and says, “Maybe this one will become your favorite.”

Quinn’s smile is the cutest shit he has ever seen. “Maybe so.”

*

In the truck, on the way there, Quinn is watching out the window. “So why is it your favorite?”

“Huh?”

“The Starbucks.” He looks to him across the console. “Why is it your favorite?”

“Oh.” Nando grins. “Well, okay. It’s, like, classic Arizona architecture, and—”

“Wait, you like it because of the architecture?” Quinn chuckles a little. “Are you Ben?”

“Jesus, baby, are you chirping me?” Nando jostles his arm, and Quinn laughs. “You’re a regular KMH member. I’m impressed.”

Quinn shrugs. “I suppose you’re finally rubbing off on me.”

“Wow.” Nando loves his boyfriend. “I’m honored. But FYI, I was only starting with the reasons I liked it.”

“Okay, continue, then.”

“Okay, so it has a lot of really nice outdoor seating.” Nando pauses. “It’s, like, near a shopping center, but it’s separate from the rest of the stores, so it’s not just some ugly spot. They always have the good cake pops, and plus, the manager is cool. They have blue hair and they wear a bunch of pride pins on their apron.”

“Okay.” Quinn nods, as Nando watches him process. Or at least sort of watches him, because he is, technically, still driving a vehicle, cute as the boy in the passenger’s seat may be. “That does sound like a good Starbucks.” He pauses. “What do you mean by the good cake pops?”

“Lemon ones,” he replies. “And chocolate. And, during Pride month, rainbow.”

“Oh my goodness.” Quinn closes his eyes, like he’s having a moment. “Now I’m craving a cake pop.”

“Well, it’s a good thing we’re on our way there,” Nando replies, and he laughs.

It only takes a few more minutes to arrive. The parking lot is sort of crowded, but it doesn’t look like a mob scene, which is nice. Nando sees an empty table for two under a palm tree on the patio that has their name on it.

“Here we are,” he remarks, parking the truck across the lot from the door. “Our cake pops await.”

Quinn puts on his sunglasses. Their lenses are rose-gold and circular, and he looks criminally adorable in them. And also kind of super hot. That’s the thing about Quinn. He’s the cutest thing in the world and he’s also the source of literally all of Nando’s thirst. And he can turn on a dime. “I’m ready,” he tells him, combing back his hair. Already, with the past week in the sun, it’s gone a little lighter blond on the top. “I’ll have you know, my expectations are extremely high.”

“Oh, this won’t disappoint you,” Nando assures him. “I promise.”

They walk hand-in-hand across the parking lot, and Nando grabs the door for him. Inside is sweet air-conditioned bliss, and it smells like fresh-roasted coffee beans and the bakery case. Nando hasn’t been in here since Christmas break, and it’s been too long.

There’s a small line, but it won’t take more than a few minutes to get to the register. He tries to see who’s working, in case it’s Shai, but he can’t get a good look at the cashier, and there’s no sign of their blue mohawk among the baristas making the drinks.

Shai is actually, like, thirty, and possibly married, but they memorized his drink order in high school and always complimented him on his pride shirts, so they’re one of those older queer people Nando has just imprinted on. And, okay, yeah. He was totally excited to bring his boyfriend in here to meet them. It’s the little things.

Going around town with Quinn is like showing him off, and he has never been happier.

As they get in line, Quinn wraps his hand around his elbow, leaning into him. “It smells good in here,” he hums, with his head against his shoulder.

“I told you,” Nando replies, kissing his temple. “This is a magical place.”

He checks his phone, briefly, while they wait in line; he hasn’t actually looked at it since he woke up this morning. He has a few Snapchats in the cricket group chat, plus one from Nursey (he and Dex just got engaged, which, !!!!!!), and a separate text from Rhodey (it looks like he sent him a TikTok; Rhodey is obsessed with TikTok). He opens the cricket group, turns his front camera on, and snaps a selfie. Quinn is smiling with his cheek against his shoulder, and he himself looks like a little bit of a meme, but Quinn looks cute, so he saves it before he types the caption (coffee run y’all want anything) and sends it through.

In exactly twenty seconds, Rhodey replies. It’s a picture of himself in his work uniform— he delivers pizzas in Providence— and he’s flashing a peace sign at the camera. His hair is in a pink, blue, and yellow striped scrunchie. ya get me an americano. also yall are gay

Quinn snickers. “Well, I would sure hope so, Ben.”

Nando pockets his phone and hooks his arm around his neck. “Super gay.”

Quinn leans into his shoulder. “Mm.” He nods. “The gayest.”

They move forward a spot in line, then another. In fact, they move forward three entire spots without incident. Quinn is humming some showtune— it’s from Spring Awakening; he recognizes it— and Nando is keeping his eyes peeled for Shai, or at least someone he knows. Look at me! I’m in love and I’m happy.

But then God says, be careful what you wish for.

Because as they move into the spot where they’re up next to order, he catches the sound of the cashier’s voice. “... and can I get a name for the order?”

All of the life leaves Nando’s body.

“Holly? Great.” The voice is nasally, and a little artificially cheerful. He hasn’t heard it— outside of a few drunk voicemails— in over two years, but it evokes a visceral reaction in him. He feels sick, all of a sudden. “That’ll be right up.”

He must be tense all of a sudden, because Quinn peers up at him. “Sebastián?” he asks, and what a difference between two voices. “Are you alright?”

He tries to take a deep breath. “I, um.” He pauses. “I think we have to leave.”

“Next customer, please?”

“Leave?” Quinn squints. “But we’re next!”

The people in front of them step to the side counter, and Nando sputters too long. “We, uh—”

But when the way is clear, it’s too late. “Sebby!”

Nando wants to die.

“Holy shit!” Nate has a different haircut, and a Starbucks apron, but otherwise he’s the same— the same pasty pale skin, the same bony stature, the same face so easily twisted into a scowl. Right now, though, he’s smiling, which, honestly, is an expression that looks alien on him, based on Nando’s memory. “You didn’t tell me you were home from school!”

What he wants to say is, Nate, why the fuck would I tell you I was home from school, but what he does say is, “Uh, hi.”

He is going to cringe himself to death. He’s been home for no less than six days, and he is already running into his ex with his boyfriend.

When did he start working here?

“It’s been forever!” As Nate keeps on this weirdly cordial tangent, Nando feels Quinn still next to him. Quinn knows vaguely what Nate looks like, but what he knows better is the way he used to act, and the fact that he used to call him Sebby. Also, he’s wearing a nametag. And Nando feels as stiff as a board. “How’ve you been?”

Very carefully, Quinn unwinds his arm from his, and takes a firm, obvious grip on his hand.

“Jeez, I keep trying to reach out to you,” Nate continues, like they’re old friends running into each other, and not exes with a toxic history. “We really should catch up sometime, now that you’re in town.”

Nando takes a long breath, like it’ll fix the tension in his chest. He squeezes at Quinn’s hand, which helps a little. Quinn leads when they step up to the counter, and he inhales like he wants to order, but Nate is still fucking going. “Who’s your friend?” he asks.

“Boyfriend,” Quinn blurts, in his I’m pissed and I mean business voice, which, thank God for this boy. “I’m his boyfriend.”

Nate raises his eyebrows a little, looking at Quinn like he’s a five-year-old having a tantrum. “Oh,” he says, shrugging. “My bad. Although, I should’ve known.” Nate’s eyes dart to him for a second, and Nando wants to scrub himself clean of that gaze. “He tends to go for the little guys,” Nate continues, to Quinn, gesturing between the two of them like he’s comparing their heights. Then he shrugs again. “Gotta balance it out, y’know?”

Nando’s stomach turns. It stings, so much, and as soon as this is out of Nate’s mouth he feels Quinn squeeze his hand so hard it’s like he intends to break bones. He squeezes right back, and God, he knows it’s cruel and unnecessary and shouldn’t bother him, and it’s been almost three fucking years since he had to deal with Nate, but it still hurts. It hurts just as much as every comment like that did from him. It sends him back to memories of hating and second-guessing himself, and he just. He feels so fucking humiliated.

Quinn takes a very long breath, his eyes on Nate, while he digests this, and then he says, “Can I get a peach green tea, please.” He pauses, still squeezing the circulation out of his hand, and it is the only thing keeping Nando from tearing up. Which is pathetic. But he’s just. It hurts. “And he’ll have a—”

“Mocha frappe. Yeah. I know.” Nate chuckles a little, already grabbing a cup. “Extra whip, right?”

Quinn bristles, face flushing, and finally, Nando finds his voice. “Actually,” he says, “no.” Because even though that was what he was going to order, he doesn’t want to give Nate the satisfaction of thinking he still knows him that well. His Starbucks order may be the same, but there’s so much about him that’s changed since Nate knew him. So much about him that’s better now. Without him. He orders his second favorite. “An iced vanilla latte.” And then, because even though he really doesn’t feel like being polite to him, he feels like Mama might manifest in this Starbucks and kick his ass if he doesn’t say it, he adds, “Please.”

“Hm, my mistake,” Nate says, with a shrug, as he’s writing on the two cups. “I guess you’re a new man, Sebby. We really should catch up.” Quinn’s death grip intensifies, because he knows how much Nando cannot stand being called that. He brings his other hand back to wrap around his elbow, too, like he’s being protective, and Nando has never been more grateful for him.

“Anyway, that’ll be right up.” Nate looks so unbothered, just the way he always did, years ago, when he’d make a comment that left Nando’s self-esteem reeling for days afterward. “I guess I don’t really need your name for the order, huh?”

He’s writing on the cup, and Nando can’t see— or just doesn’t want to— but Quinn must be able to, because he says, “His name is Sebastián.”

Nate raises his eyebrows. “Ooh, feisty.” And of course Quinn sounds mad— but Nate making fun of him will do nothing but add more fuel to the fire. Nate looks to him, past Quinn entirely, and adds, “Does he speak for you all the time like this, or—?”

Nando wants to melt into the floor. “Just give us our total, Nate,” he says, because the faster they can get out of here, the better. Quinn is bristling next to him, but stays quiet. 

Nate sighs, shrugs a little, and punches into the cash register. “If you say so,” he says, then announces, “6.23.”

And he thinks that’s going to be the end, but then, as he’s handing over his card, Nate keeps fucking talking. “Oh!” he says, still all faux-fake. “Sebby, you should take him to the lake. Remember, when we’d go down there in high school?”

Quinn’s grip on him tightens. This transaction cannot process fast enough. “We had a lot of fun,” Nate says, like he’s reminiscing. “Always did. It’s a shame; I feel like we never really had closure.”

Finally, finally, after what feels like a million years, he hands his card back, and Nando pockets it in a hurry. “C’mon,” he says to Quinn, because he cannot stand here for one more second, and as they walk away, Nate calls after them.

“Hey, give me a shout sometime!” He’s doing the fake-smile thing again. “We should really hang out, now that you’re in town again.”

Nando squeezes his eyes shut and takes a tight breath; he didn’t realize it before, but it’s hard to breathe. He feels sick and humiliated and awful, and when they’re far enough away to be out of earshot, he looks to Quinn and whispers, “Baby, I am so sorry.”

Quinn is surprisingly calm, at least in comparison to his clear irritation at the register. He shakes his head and rubs his arm with the free hand that’s not holding his. “Don’t apologize,” he says. “You have nothing to be sorry for.”

“But I just—” He wants to melt. “I had no idea he started working here; I haven’t even seen him since before freshman year, and it just— like, it figures, right—”

“Sebastián,” Quinn says, and his even voice pulls Nando out of his head. “I’m going to get our drinks, and then we can get out of here, okay?”

Nando lets all his breath out at once, then nods. “I— yeah. Okay. That’s— perfect. I’m sorry, baby.”

“Do not be sorry.” Quinn rises on tiptoe and kisses his cheek. “None of that was your fault.”

Quinn seems surprisingly collected for someone who was just ignored and insulted a minute ago, and Nando has this feeling, somewhere in the back of his mind, that he’s planning something, some kind of revenge— but what could he do, with Nate just working?

They station themselves against the wall by the pick-up counter, and it isn’t lost on Nando how touchy Quinn is being— not that they’d hold back in public for any reason in general, but he’s definitely going the extra mile right now, rubbing the inside of his elbow and leaning his head on his shoulder and holding his hand all at once. Not only is the touch grounding; Nando is also fully aware that Quinn is trying to rub it in Nate’s face should he glance over from his spot behind the counter.

Which, good. Let him fucking stare if he wants to. Nando hasn’t felt that humiliated in a long time.

And he hates that he let it hurt him, that one stupid comment— but it was such a reminder of worse times, times when he’d have to process things like that from the person who was supposed to be his partner all the time, and it was just. It was always hard, and it was always awful, and being with Quinn has helped him work so much on all of that. Quinn taught him, so early on, that he deserved better. Everything with Quinn is better.

He just focuses on holding Quinn’s hand for a minute, until Nate puts their drinks out at the pick-up counter. “Stay here, honey,” Quinn tells him, squeezing his hand before he unwinds his fingers from it. “I’ll be right back.”

“Okay,” Nando replies, and watches him go.

Quinn squares his shoulders, takes a short breath, and walks to the counter. Nando is suddenly very aware that something might be about to happen. He leans against the wall and listens in, as he watches Quinn take the two drinks from across the counter.

He’s right. Quinn looks Nate dead in the eye and says, “Hi, could I just remind you of something?”

Oh my God. Nando widens his eyes. Is Quinn about to chew him out?

Nate says nothing, but looks unamused, and Quinn continues. “You broke up with him,” Nando hears him say. “After you cheated on him, by the way. Just in case you forgot.” Nate raises his eyebrows, but stays silent. Quinn is reeling now, and there’s no stopping him. “And I happen to know an awful lot about the way you treated him, and how much that hurt him, so don’t you dare try to act so friendly, like you didn’t break him.” Nando is frozen in place, as Quinn picks up both of the drinks. “He owes you nothing. He clearly does not want to reconnect with you, and I sure as hell wouldn’t want to do that either with someone who did nothing but make me feel awful about myself for two years.” Quinn isn’t even making a scene— the only reason Nando can hear what he’s saying is because he’s not standing that far away— but Jesus Christ, if this isn’t the most satisfying thing to witness in the world. Nate is red in the face and absolutely silent, and Quinn is staring daggers at him; if looks could kill, he’d be dead on sight. “If you wanted to be his friend, maybe you shouldn’t have stomped all over his heart.”

Nando cannot believe his ears.

“And,” Quinn adds, like it’s the end of a big monologue, “I’m going to need two straws.”

Nando is so in love with this boy.

He watches, trying not to smile or even laugh, as Nate fumbles into the thing of straws and shoves two in Quinn’s direction. Quinn takes them, flashes a big, stage smile, and says, “Thank you!” before he turns and walks back in Nando’s direction.

The fake smile turns self-satisfied in a second flat, as he meets Nando’s eyes again. Nando is still kind of frozen, but he wants to kiss him, right in the middle of Starbucks.

All he can say is, “Baby.”

Quinn is all smiles. He looks the way he does when he comes out of the stage door after a great show. “Ready to go, honey?”

“Am I ever,” Nando says, and they join hands again as they head for the door. He’s not sure if Quinn knows that he heard what he said. “That… was kind of the most satisfying thing I’ve ever witnessed in my life.”

“Oh,” Quinn replies as he sticks his straw into his iced tea, “trust me, Sebastián. It’s the most satisfying thing I’ve done as long as I can remember.” He pauses, as he takes a sip, and then adds, “I’ve been wanting to do that for longer than I can even say.”

“It was hot,” he says, because, well, it was. “And just… jeez, I— maybe something good did come out of this situation.”

“Of course it did,” Quinn replies. His smile is kind of maniacal, and Nando is into it. “I got to have the confrontation of my dreams, and I got an iced tea.” He holds up his drink. “Cheers!”

Nando bumps his vanilla coffee against it and laughs. “Cheers, baby.”

Quinn squeezes his hand. They walk back outside into the summer day, and Nando doesn’t look back.

Not even a glance.

#crickets #nandoooooooo #mini quinny #quindo #fuck n*te hours #ficlet #mel writes

[capricornus-rex]

The Haunt of Redemption (3)

Sequel to: A Path I Can’t Follow

gif not mine, for header purposes only. it belongs to @sovahunter​

Chapter 3: Runt of the Litter | Cal Kestis x Reader

Summary: It has been months since your last encounter with Cal, at that time he was a fledgling Inquisitor. In an ironic twist of fate, you cross paths and blades with him once again, and he’s keen on turning you into an Inquisitor as well—unless you bring him back to the light first.

Tags: Dark Side! Cal Kestis, Inquisitor! Cal Kestis, Redemption Arc! Cal Kestis

Also posted in AO3

Chapters: 1 | Previous: Chapter 2 | Next: Chapter 4 | Masterlist

3 of ?

Koboth remained the unforgiving wasteland that it was.

The Eleventh Brother, the Fortress’s new habitant, was a force that nobody had seen coming.

In the first week since he came in, Cal had already established his authority in the stronghold; it wasn’t the imposing uniform and weapon, nor was it his blank yet steady expression.

It had something to do with his own powers.

Like most of the Inquisitors, he is a Force-sensitive. For someone his age, he was cunning and powerful—one would dare say, even just in their head, that he was above from the other Inquisitors. As accomplished as he might be—he was still the odd one out, the loner, the quiet one. The late Second Sister might have been his equal in terms of combat skill, caliber of Force abilities, and the mental prowess.

“Shame that they put him in a lower rank, I thought he was the new favorite,” the Eighth Sister scoffed one time to the other Inquisitors when he was recently anointed into his rank.

“Not surprised,” the Seventh Sister concurred in the conversation she shared with her fellow Mirialan. “That only meant he still has to prove himself if he wants to climb higher.”

Rarely a time did the other Inquisitors ever approached him, not even for an opinion or insight in their plans, under the impression that he’s too good for them or the other way around. They always spoke of him from a distance or behind his back. Either way, he wouldn’t have minded.

Instead, Cal whiled away his time in the dojo. As a matter of fact, it was the only thing he did out of his own volition—the conferences were compulsory. His only audience? A couple of Stormtroopers assigned to watch over from the control room.

“Wow, he’s really into this whole practice thing,” A Stormtrooper blurted to his comrade. “That’s all he’s ever done since he got here!”

“Yeah, this is the third time this week he’s gone here. I think he’s the only one who actually uses this place—except for the Purge guys.”

They watched as they remained in their post. For every Purge Trooper that came walking out of the holding cells in the dojo, the young Inquisitor wouldn’t make them last long in the duel. The longest he’s gone against with is a pair of them—an electrohammer wielder and a staff wielder. The boy made use of the movable grates, relocating them using the Force, and utilizing them to amplify his attacks.

When the staff-wielding Purge Trooper split his weapon in half, it didn’t make much of a difference as the young Eleventh Brother deflected his attack with his own split saber while deflecting the electrohammer with the other blade.

“Gotta admit that was impressive,” the guard bantered and his co-worker agreed with a weak “Yeah.”

The Eleventh Brother pulled away from both opponents, inflicted Slow on the brute and sent a flurry of attacks to the dual-wielder for the time being. The Purge Trooper’s jaw met Cal’s elbow, causing him to drop his weapons—which Cal stole one of them and used it on its owner, sending a wild shock into the body until the opponent fumbled and was at the mercy of the boy Inquisitor. When that was finished, Cal returned his attention to the electrohammer Purge Trooper, disarmed the larger fighter by slashing across his shin guards until his knees fell to the ground.

With that, Cal emerged the victor—after five waves of opponents—and the two Purge Troopers yielded for today. They quickly regained their composure, stretching their shoulders and collecting their weapons.

“Someday, I’ll take him down in spar practice,” the duel-wielding Purge Trooper mumbled.

“Hah, not unless he kills you in the process first!”

Today, the Stormtroopers had just witnessed a true demonstration of Cal’s raw power.

That scene had further cemented their fear of the boy Inquisitor.

Cal exited the dojo and made his way to his bedchambers. The officers that were in his general direction—regardless of rank, whether it’s an admiral or a cadet—avoided eye contact from him, but some looked at him with a curious or trivial look, as if admiring how could such a young man have that much influence without even speaking much. Some even likened him to Darth Vader, but it was a stretch.

Aside from the dojo, his bedchamber was his primary sanctuary.

“Home sweet home,” he muttered to himself as he removed his mask.

By rote, he retreated to the bathroom to wash off the grime that had gathered on his face and body, he wets his hair and stubble for good measure. Even after the course of seven months, he still hasn’t gotten used to his overall appearance, especially the redness faint dark tint on his hair even if he’s never altered anything on his body; a faint pink shade ran along the bottom rims of his eyes retells the training he’s endured, as well as the lonesomeness in the solace of his bedroom.

If he isn’t fighting in the dojo or attending those mandatory meetings, Cal spent his time researching on the holotable in his room. Reports from Stormtroopers and hired spies of your whereabouts are immediately transmitted to him, although the pickings were very slim, he was almost impressed by how elusive you and the crew were.

“Now, where have you run off to?” he mumbled, particularly to the still holographic image of you projected in his holotable.

Eventually, he came to a standstill with his own research, hoping to require more reports from the Stormtroopers and spies in every possible planet you may have gone to—Takodana, Kashyyyk, Zeffo, even Dathomir was an option no matter how much you disliked it as Cal recalled.

“Nothing… just nothing,” he sighed in defeated.

He combed back his hair with his fingers as he steered away from his holotable after slamming the off switch. He leaned against the wall of glass that gave him the view of the barren horizon that stretched beyond the lava rivers. His forehead thumped against the glass as he took deep breaths.

Cal didn’t want to admit it, even if hard training has been ingrained into his mind and body for seven months now, he still feels lost in all of this. The Eighth Sister shrugged it off as the same feeling as being the newcomer of the town—which is exactly just that. The excelled in all aspects of the training, further improving the training he’s received under Jaro Tapal, impressed—and intimidated—the ranking officers present in the main command center with his unconventional yet effective strategies, and silently climbing his way through the ranks.

In the midst of the silence—which he enjoyed—he hoped that there would be something to come up any moment… but there was none.

The viewscreen fixed upon his wall suddenly fizzled to life, he paid attention to the admiral seen on the other end of the call.

“Admiral,” Cal acknowledged.

“Eleventh Brother, the Grand Inquisitor will be transmitting a message. Shall I relay it to you?”

“Yes, Admiral.”

“Very good, my lord.”

The call rippled and then faded out. Cal donned his Inquisitor outfit with an urgency and pressed the button to bring his holotable back to life. Shortly after, the projection of the Grand Inquisitor’s bust hovered and occupied the center space of the holotable, it was large enough to prompt Cal to step back a few paces just so he wouldn’t hurt his neck.

“I hope you haven’t gotten dry on the girl’s trail, Eleventh Brother,” the Grand Inquisitor hummed.

“It won’t be long until we find the girl and her treasonous crew, Grand Inquisitor,”

“Remember your true objective here, Eleventh Brother, the precious cargo that they have with them is what you should set your sights on. The girl is merely collateral,” the Grand Inquisitor’s projection cracked static in between words but then continued. “If she does prove to be powerful like you say, then we will bring her to our ranks. Only then will she realize the magnitude that the Dark Side could factor in her powers.”

“Never have I doubted that insight, Grand Inquisitor,”

“Very good. I expect many a great things from you, my boy.”

Without the formal conclusion, the Grand Inquisitor switched off his transmission and his hologram crackled away into the air.

The pressure is on, but Cal didn’t dwell too much as it would have completely compromised his focus. The idea of taking you in, turning you into an Inquisitor, constantly ran in the back of his head—it was the outcome that he hopes for. He wanted to meditate—he longed for that dark tranquility—but can’t seem to find the peace that will help him latch on to connecting with the Force. The activity has become staler for him nowadays, if he did try, it went back to the exact same as he was before: he loses control while under the trance.

Cal decided it would be a good idea to take a walk. He ended up observing the assembly procedure of the facility from a reasonable distance on a platform. The whole factory worked in a harmony in piecing together the parts: heavy metal banged on the thick conveyor belts, sparks spewed out from the joints of the machines, until the machines have created the finished products—ship parts that will still undergo a second stage of assembly, power cores that glowed bright orange as it came fresh from the manufacturer.

Much later, he was joined by the Fourth Brother. A smug bastard, as Cal always thought.

“I see machines fascinate you,”

Cal rolled his eyes and had no choice but to wallow in this banter, “I grew up around them.”

“Ah yes, I recall the Second Sister calling you something of a sort,” the Fourth Brother, Ezir, pondered. He unnecessarily snapped his fingers as if trying to recall the word.

“A scrapper.” The boy grumbled.

“Ah! That’s the one,” he sniggered and continued to watch with the Eleventh Brother. “Look at that one, over there. Isn’t that worker pretty? Looking past that oil and grime on her face, I wager she would look divine.”

The Eleventh Brother didn’t comment on that, he kept silent and continued observing the manufacturing.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I forget that you already have the love of your life! Though she’s in one side of the galaxy, and you absolutely have no idea where she is,” Ezir scoffed. “I saw her once that time in Magyon. I have to say, she is rather beautiful. How many men do you think have thrown themselves over to—”

While keeping cool, Ezir struggled on his next words. He tugged his collar a bit, coughed, gulped, and cleared his throat. The faint squeak of a glove prompted him to turn to Cal and noticed that his hand was positioned to a grapple, then he turned the Fourth Brother to look at him in the eye.

The boy Inquisitor’s face creased, mouth curled to a snarl, and a fiery rage burned behind his clear, blank, quiet eyes.

“String your words carefully, Fourth, they’re not always as smooth as you think they are.”

The Fourth Brother gurgled in his own spit, struggling to speak a single word back at the Eleventh Brother. He looked almost pitiful in Cal’s eyes, it doubled when he yielded, tapping his chest—crumpling his dress shirt in the process—until his tormentor released his grip.

“Bastard,” Cal scoffed as he walked out on Ezir and left the observation platform.

#cal kestis #cal kestis fic #cal kestis x reader #cal kestis x reader fic #star wars #star wars fic #sw #sw fic #star wars jedi fallen order #star wars jedi fallen order fic #swjfo #sw jfo #swjfo fic #sw jfo fic #jedi fallen order #jedi fallen order fic #jfo #jfo fic #dark side! cal kestis #dark side! cal kestis fic #inquisitor! cal kestis #inquisitor! cal kestis fic #redemption arc! cal kestis #redemption arc! cal kestis fic #inquisitor #inquisitorius #the grand inquisitor #dark side #dark side of the force #angst

[lov3nerdstuff]

I put a spell on you...

*Tom Hiddleston x reader*

Oneshot

Words: 4.8k

Genre: fluff, angst

Summary: You find yourself unable to get home on a cold December day, and a forgotten wallet turns into a frozen tragedy. Until a handsome stranger with blonde curls comes to your rescue.

A.N.: The follow-up fic for this is called '...because you're mine', but this is an independent story nontheless! Enjoy 💚💚💚

All Parts can be found on my Masterlist!

________________________________

It had been a somber day right from the moment you had gotten out of bed that morning. The December gloom hung low above the city, washing out the colors and muting the lights until nothing but a grey, cold and wet blur of life remained. Despite that, you'd actually had quite a decent day and had gotten a lot of work done, in the library, your sanctuary. This shortly before you would finally finish your degree, you really didn't spare any efforts to make the last few weeks the most productive of your entire education.

Thus, smiling and accomplished after a long day of working hard, you started your long way home from your uni, through half of the city, towards the station where you intended to take the first bus home. You lived quite far away from your school, as you couldn't afford to actually live on campus, or worse in the city center where your college was located. No, your rathole of an apartment lay an hour away. By bus, that was.

With a sigh you reached for your wallet in your bag, to pay for the ride home, only for your fingers to grab empty air. A bolt of liquid energy struck your heart and nervous system, allowing panic to slowly infiltrate your mind. Had you lost it somewhere maybe, or had it been stolen!? With a deep frown on your face you knelt down on the busy sidewalk, emptying the contents of your entire bag onto the rough, dirty concrete beneath you. Journals, papers, books, too many loose pens… no wallet. Fuck.

Gosh, if you hadn't used the spare cash in your bag on the bus this morning, out of pure haste and laziness, you might actually have noticed the absence of your money sooner. Great… without the wallet, no money. Without money, no bus ride. Without the bus… no getting home. And without getting home, you had no chance to get to your money. A true vicious circle of bad luck. Fuck!

With an annoyed yet desperate groan, you shoved everything back into your bag in haste and rose to your feet before the bypassing people would give you even more disgusted, condescending looks. And while you took a step backwards from the bus station, retreating into the shadow of a shop window's low roof to escape the wind's cold bite and the pedestrians' elbows to your ribs, you desperately tried to suppress the tears that so desperately fought their way through your aggressive blinking. Fuck.

People streamed by like a river on the sidewalk around you, passing by in the hundreds as all you could do was try not to cry and keep your mind from getting consumed by panic, and even that you failed at eventually. It was silly to cry over this, really… and yet, silent tears rolled down your cheeks, scorching your delicate skin that had long gone numb from December's cold. Small rivers as imprints of your despair, lips red as cherries from cold's bite and your own, trying to silence yourself from any expression of surrender to circumstance.

No, you wouldn't give up the last bit of hope you could claw your nails into to keep from slipping into despair, to keep from breaking down in public. Maybe you could walk all night, through the insufferable cold, to arrive at home before dawn. Not a promising prospect, considering the dangers of some parts of the city, but as it seemed, the only option you had. There was nobody you could've called, nobody you could've asked to borrow some money from… You were all alone. Always.

"Excuse me, but are you alright?" A deep, silken voice reached your ears from close by, and you jumped a little, blinking rapidly to clear your tear blurred vision. A tall figure appeared in your field of sight, obviously addressing you with those softly spoken words.

Your eyes finally focused on the world around you again, and your gaze fell upon the most worried and most handsome face you had ever seen. The tall stranger's eyes dug into yours, waiting for an answer you didn't remember the question to… a deep blue, like the rough sea on a stormy day, drawing you into their spell and drowning you in a depth you didn't know a gaze could possess. Your lips parted in surprise while all you could do was stare at him for a few short moments that, in your head, seemed to stretch into eternities.

"What?" You finally breathed and your voice remained laced with unshed tears, while your eyes still couldn't escape his own, nor the spell he had put on you.

"I… I asked if you were alright." He replied calmly, but likely just as taken aback by the moment as you were, while your gaze was drawn down to his delicate lips as he spoke. "You seem quite distraught, if I may say that. I couldn't help but notice the despair in your eyes and… well."

At last your mind snapped out of its haze and you regained your ability to form somewhat coherent sentences. "Uhm… I… it's nothing. Just… me being silly. I'm good." Yet, your tone didn't even convince yourself of your too quickly spoken words, and you felt your heart picking up speed for both the panic and the handsome stranger in front of you.

"Are you sure about that?" He frowned ever so slightly, then seemed to remember a voice in the very back of his mind and immediately spoke on. "I'm sorry, I by no means meant to be pushy. I… I just wanted to offer my help."

You let out a single, uncontrolled sob that might have passed for a laugh if one didn't look at your face, and more tears formed in your eyes to spill over your already reddened cheeks. "Gosh, I'm so sorry… Today is just the one drop that made the emotions spill over the edge, if you know what I mean…" Even through your tears you saw that the poor fellow in front of you looked hopelessly confused, but somehow very much pained to witness your small breakdown, and that alone made you want to cry even more. A stranger on the street had more empathy than your fellow students who you'd known for years. Wow… you kinda hated that acting school was such a competitive thing sometimes.

"Can I… would you maybe like to go for a hot drink? To warm up a little, calm down the nerves…" He offered with the smallest of smiles, looking both reluctant and yet certain in his offer.

"Oh, I really don't want to bother you any more than I already have…" You replied quickly, hugging your jacket tighter around yourself to keep from freezing even more. It was terribly cold, even for December.

"You're not bothering me at all, I'm the one who refuses to leave you alone, am I not…" He chuckled while a blush colored his cheeks even more crimson than the cold already had. "I mean… Sorry, I would just feel horrible to leave you standing here, crying… If I'm bothering you, I'll be gone in an instant."

"Oh gosh, you're not bothering me at all! If I am not bothering you, I would gladly take up the offer for a hot drink. I have a very long and very cold walk ahead of me, and a little warmth before that might do me good." You said in a single breath, nodding to yourself in affirmation that this was alright. He was a stranger, yes, but he was nice and seemingly sincere in his concern.

"Great." He replied immediately, with the brightest and most relieved smile you had ever seen.

Ten minutes later, you found yourself sitting in a cozy little cafe with quite possibly the largest cup of hot chocolate you had ever seen. Your eyes shot up to the man who had taken seat in front of you with an incredulous, but happy smile. "Hot chocolate?"

"I thought some sugar might cheer you up." He shrugged with a small smile. "And it's almost Christmas, that means nobody blinks an eye at enjoying all the sugary treats there are."

The look of utter adoration grew on your face as you looked at your savior, unable to form a coherent sentence yet again. While he was being beyond nice and generous, you hadn't once gotten the impression that he was doing this with any ulterior motives, and that honestly was such a relief that you found yourself at a loss for words, slowly wrapping your head around the idea that he was actually doing this just to be kind. In your experience, nobody had ever done anything just to be kind… there were always expectations, silent promises, unspoken demands. But not with him. So you just sipped on your hot chocolate, humming quietly in bliss, and observing the man in front of you curiously. Seriously, could he be any more handsome? Sure, that was rather superficial of you to think, but you couldn't help it. Those messy curls, the sharp cheekbones, the shadow of a beard ghosting over his jawline… and those eyes that still held you captive under their spell.

"I'm Tom, by the way." He finally spoke up after minutes of comfortable quiet, still smiling at you in both amusement and curiosity. If he had noticed you staring, he didn't comment on it at least.

"Y/n." You smiled back. "Thank you SO much for the chocolate… I can't possibly repay you, literally, but I am beyond thankful."

"Literally?" He inquired, but politely. "Is that why you were so distraught? You don't have to tell me, of course, but if you just feel like venting to someone, I'm all ears."

With yet another smile, you told him about your impending finals, your stress during the last weeks, the library, the bus, the forgotten wallet… It was really odd, once you'd started talking, the words seemingly flowed freely from your mind over your lips and you found yourself sharing more with Tom than you had imagined. But talking to him felt just so nice, so natural and comfortable that you couldn't possibly stop for a while, and he listened intently to everything you had to say.

"So you're graduating soon?" He asked calmly, sipping on his second cup of tea. By now it was getting increasingly dark outside, almost pitch black from where you were sitting in the cozy light of the cafe.

"Yeah… Getting that degree at last." You sighed softly, running a single finger over the edge of your giant coffee cup that he had insisted on getting you after the hot chocolate. "But I still need to rehearse quite a bit for the final performance. And study quite a bit to get the theoretical knowledge in."

"You're getting a degree in acting?" His eyes lit up ever so slightly and his small smile turned into a larger one.

"Yup. Hopefully I'll get into a stage production somewhere around the city so I won't have to move away." You shrugged, taking another sip of coffee.

"Oh, I know the deal… It can get hard to move for the job so much. I will actually work in a theater here in the city, next year." He smiled brightly, and yet your eyes were fixed on his again. They were so full of life, so extremely colorful in this world of washed out grey and tiredness… gosh, he really had put a spell on you, and your mind wouldn't stop drooling over him.

"That's amazing… Or great luck." You finally managed to say with a smile. "I hope I'll be just as lucky. What is it you're working as? Surely sounds like fun if it's in a theater."

"Oh, you know… some of the actors I meet are arrogant assholes." He chuckled, and you had to smirk as well. "Most people are quite nice though. It really depends."

For quite some time he went on to talk about the place he would work at next, a middle sized theater that would host a production of one of your favorite plays, and about how they would officially start casting people in April, for rehearsals to start in summer. Yet you noticed how he never explicitly said what exactly it was he was working as, and so you guessed that it simply wasn't anything worth mentioning. Maybe he was a prompter, or a technician… who knew. All you did know was that you could have spent eternities just listening to his smooth and deep voice, and watch the joyous sparkles in his eyes. Yeah… you were definitely falling for him, fast and dangerously strong.

After an even longer conversation about the joys and pains of acting school, he gave you another heart melting smile that turned your insides into a mushy goo, before looking at his phone for a short second, upon which his eyes widened immediately. "Oh gosh, it's gotten rather late! Sorry, I hope I haven't kept you from anything."

"You only kept me from freezing on the street, and I'm very thankful for that!" You replied with a chuckle, then with a content sigh moved to finish your coffee, yet only reluctantly. Somehow… you didn't want to part from him just yet. You'd only just met him, and still... that darn spell he had put on you prevented you from thinking about a single thing that wasn't him.

"I honestly didn't mean to steal so much of your time, but I found it quite impossible to part from you any sooner." He smiled as he rose to his feet and put on his coat. It looked rather worn out, pilling quite a bit, and you started feeling bad for having him pay for you. Did theaters really pay THAT little…?

"As dull as it will likely be, I gotta hurry to make it in time for a meeting now." He said with an apologetic half smile.

"Yeah, I better start walking home as well, if I want to arrive before dawn tomorrow." You sighed as you followed his example, putting on your big fluffy scarf and winter jacket.

"What? No!" He frowned at you as you both made for the door of the cafe. "I won't just let you walk through the night all by yourself… That's rather dangerous, and likely very cold." With that he got some crinkled bills out of the pocket of his coat and handed them to you with an apologetic frown. "That's all I have on me right now, but I'm sure it'll suffice for a ride home."

Your lips parted yet again, releasing a small cloud of your frozen breathing into the cold night air. "I cannot possibly take this… especially if it's all you've got."

"I insist. Please, just take it and make sure you get home safely." He smiled as positively and encouragingly as ever. "I didn't take my wallet, that's why I don't have any more at the moment. All's well."

"You're really being too kind to me, Tom." You returned the smile, and even though you didn't say it, your eyes gave away all the adoration you felt for him in that moment. He was kind, funny, humble, intelligent… And that one slightly curly strand of hair that kept falling into his face just drove you positively mad. Tom was as perfect as any man could only wish to be.

"It was my absolute pleasure." His smile broadened, as did his blush. "And if it makes you feel less horrible about this, you could always try to convince me to let you pay me back when we go out for coffee the next time."

Now you certainly felt the heat rising to your cheeks as well. "I would really like that, actually… I enjoyed your company tonight. A great lot, even."

"Yeah, me too." He replied quietly, eyes locking with yours in a way that felt almost too intimate to be happening on a sidewalk in the middle of the city. "That's why I have to see you again." With that he took your hand in his, breathing a feathery kiss to your knuckles that left your heart racing to break records. Nobody had ever made you feel this intensely about them so impossibly fast, and you couldn't help but stare at him with raw emotion in your eyes.

"Goodnight Y/n." He gave you one last adoring smile. "Get home safely please." Then he let your fingers slip past his own in the most torturing gentleness, before he jogged off and vanished in the everlasting crowds.

You did get home safely that night, with your heart still racing even after more than an hour on the bus.

Tom… Your mind constantly replayed the entire afternoon and evening, delving into the imprint of him that had stayed in your mind like a burn mark. Sure, he wasn't quite your own age, but you had never minded that much. And so you found yourself dreaming about him the entire journey home, until at last you had to wake up again, in the cold harshness of reality.

You hadn't exchange phone numbers, nor did you know his last name. The realization hit you colder than the freezing air around you and pierced your heart with a million tiny shards of ice that only melted away in the roaring spark he had kindled within you, leaving your insides torn open and slowly bleeding out. And just like that you felt yourself on the brink of crying once again.

But you wouldn't give up that easily, wouldn't allow yourself to just move on and forget… Finding someone by the name of Tom who not yet worked in a theater in this giant city couldn't be quite that difficult, could it? Could it…? And thus you tried to find him, anywhere at all, in the virtual and real world… without any success. The more desperate you grew, the more vain your attempts turned out to be. The days passed, and even though eventually you had been forced to give up trying to find him, he never once left your mind. He had truly put a spell on you.

_______________

It was shortly after the new year had begun that your graduation from the school of dramatic arts was held, and as always, you were your only family member present. 'Because acting isn't a real job'... You could still hear your father's words clear as day in your mind, even if you tried not to listen to them too often.

You'd made top of your class, thank gods… with anything less you wouldn't have been content. Yes, finishing acting school meant that you'd proven to yourself that you could be good enough for this harsh field of work. But it also meant that you had to start submitting to casting calls, audition over and over again, and prepare for some serious setbacks.

And audition you did, with every theater and every company in your entire region… only to hear the inevitable, more polite version of 'fuck off, newbie'. It was exhausting and hard work, you knew that and you had known all along… yet it was hard sometimes to not get discouraged, with nobody to build you back up. And it was usually in your lowest moments when you would come to think of Tom. How he had saved you from freezing on the streets that one evening in December, with nothing but coffee and kindness. You'd wonder what he was up to, if he was alright… Just thinking of his breathtaking smile and overwhelming kindness would make you smile in return, and that would leave you feeling better, usually, but in a bittersweet way. Your inability to find him nagged on your mind on a constant basis, slowly chipping away small pieces of your hope to ever see him again, while knowing you had tried everything in your might did less than nothing to help it. Thus, over the course of three months, your life had become everything you had never wanted it to be. You were alone, without a real job, without an actually decent place to live, always cold, always jumpy, always frowning.

Until, in late April, you auditioned for a minor role in a huge production of one of your favorite plays, more as a weak attempt at having fun than because you really believed they would actually cast you. And yet, you heard back from them not even half a week after your audition. At first you hadn't even registered what the lady on the phone wanted from you, but after a second of irritation the realization had set in, then the shock, then the joy. For reasons you couldn't possibly fathom, they hadn't given you the role you had auditioned for, but done it one better: you would portray one of the four main characters! How on Earth that could've happened was beyond you, but you were overjoyed to confirm, and to come in a few weeks later for the signing. But it was only at the end of August that rehearsals started, for the play would open in late September.

It was way too hot for this early in the day when you made your way to the theater, quietly slipping in through the stage door after you'd told the security your name at least three times. Luckily you were greeted by David, your director who you'd already met during your audition, and thus you didn't have to wander the maze of the backstage area by yourself. It was the first day only, and you hadn't yet met any of your fellow cast members, which was rather odd in your opinion. But you were new to the game, and you wouldn't dare to criticize whatever David, his assistants or any of the producers were doing. No, you had done your part by preparing your role and showing up today, and everything else would fall into place. Or so you thought.

You were led to a large room next to the stage then, for the first official meeting of the main cast, and your heart was already beating so quickly that its echo in your ears drowned out every bit of smalltalk David's assistant was trying to uphold with you. This was a production in the very spotlight… something you shouldn't even be considered to mop the floor for. And yet here you were, about to meet some of the most renowned actors in modern theater, as you'd been informed. What exactly were you doing here…?

The assistant opened the door for you, and you immediately stopped in the doorframe, dead in your track and utterly unable to move. It had been MONTHS… and still you would've recognized him anywhere.

"Tom?" You managed to say despite your frozen stare, quietly and so full of surprise that your own voice sounded foreign to your ears. Distant, like it was part of a different reality.

The group of people fell silent as he turned around to you, stormy eyes wide as your own, lips parting in equal surprise. "Y/n…" He breathed, looking at you like you were some ethereal creature, bringing upon him everything he had ever yearned for.

For a moment time was frozen as both of you were, caught in crashing waves of emotions as complicated as the threads holding together the relation of time and space. There it was again, the spell he put on you… like a natural force. Inevitable, inescapable, irresistible.

"So… you two know each other already?" David asked in an oddly stained voice as he pushed past you into the room, breaking the staring but never the spell.

Tom seemed to snap out of it before you did. "Uh… Yes, yes! We… we know each other, personally. Gosh, it's been a while." He chuckled, looking at you with a small smile as you finally walked into the room, silently thanking him for not telling everyone how he had found you, a complete mess, crying on the sidewalk.

"I… We…" You tried, but the words in your head tangled together so badly that they just wouldn't come over your lips. It was either nothing or too much, and so you stuck with nothing for now.

"Well, you guys can catch up in the break. For now we've got some work to do." David smiled at you, then turned to everyone else. "Let's get started."

_______________

"Hey…" Tom's smooth voice startled you as you slowly sauntered over the yet empty stage during the break, in the belief that everyone else was out to get coffee or talk to their assistants. You didn't have an assistant, and you didn't have enough money to buy coffee without a darn good reason. So you had believed it was only you on the stage, lost in thought and overwhelmed by feelings you knew you shouldn't have. And that's when Tom had spoken up right behind you. "Sorry, I didn't mean to make you jump."

You turned around to him in an instant, finding yourself way too close to him, but neither of you was willing to step backwards. "It's fine, I was just lost in thought."

"What were you thinking about?"

"You." You replied before your mind could put the thought on a leash to keep it from escaping your lips. Your eyes widened, as did Tom's. Then he smiled at you in that breathtaking manner yet again.

"I've thought of you quite a bit over the last months, you know…" He finally said, quietly. "Way too much probably. After I got home that night and realized that I was an idiot and hadn't asked you for your phone number, I was rather devastated."

"Yeah…" You breathed, giving him a sad half smile. "I tried finding you, but I didn't know your last name, and neither what you really did for a living. So I eventually stopped looking, after a few months."

His eyes widened even more, then turned smaller again as he frowned sadly. "I tried finding you too… I really did. I even had my publicist and quite a few others look through the graduating classes, but we all found nothing but people who weren't you."

For a moment you were at a loss for words, uncertain what you should allow yourself to say… that you'd missed him? Horribly much, even though you hardly knew him? It didn't feel like you didn't know him… To you, Tom was always on your mind and had been ever since that night. He was your closest friend and dearest companion, focus point and silent shadow to your every move. But all of that was only in your head, and you knew it. You'd fallen for him that evening back in December, and by you had grown to love the imprint of him in your mind.

"You didn't say that you were impossibly famous." You said instead, giving him a weak smile upon which he blushed ever so slightly.

"I don't meet many people who don't already know who I am, and it honestly was so nice. You enjoyed my company for ME, and not because I have some reputation." He shrugged, looking down at you with the softest expression. "Gosh, Y/n… I can't believe I finally found you. I'm the luckiest fool to get a second chance with you."

Now it was your turn to blush as well. "I… I kinda had lost hope that we would ever meet again, you know."

"Same for me. I mean I refused to give up on it, but it was growing more and more unlikely."

"I'm eternally glad that fate brought us together again." You finally allowed yourself to smile at him again in utter adoration. "I'm just sorry for the time it took."

"Feels like it was only yesterday to me." He smiled back and took your hand in his just like he had that night, breathing a kiss to the back of your hand with a small smirk. This time however, he didn't let go. "And as it seems, we will see a lot more of each other from now on. I literally cannot wait to spend every day together with you."

And even if you didn't want to showcase just how hopelessly in love you were with him, you couldn't keep yourself from grinning along. Maybe you had put a spell on him too, after all.

_____________________________

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