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kaypeace21 · 3 years

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Idk if this is possible or not or if you've done it already but could you list all the rainbow references in the show?

Haha- talk about pandora’s box. Sure, personally i think the rainbows have multiple meanings -3 meanings to to be exact

1) Rainbows being associated with psychics + Will’s powers plot twist

*We see in the stranger thing novel 'suspicious minds' when overusing powers you may hallucinate rainbows (which are also associated with the void/ monsters in the series) .

Terry: “Spots bloomed behind her eyelids. Every color … as the sunlight turned to rainbows” ( p44-45), “streaks of rainbow appeared (p47)”,“The rainbow stayed with Terry for a long while, but eventually it faded and in its place: darkness. A pit.”(p. 48).

Alice (who sees visions of the future) : “Snarling, snapping monsters,RAINBOW LIGHTS playing in the air around them” (p. 121).

cough Will being in the upsidedown/being chased by “monsters”. And Joyce communicating with Will via “rainbow lights.”

The rainbow room (from s2) also has a rainbow on the door- according to the novel kali drew that rainbow. Similar to Will's rainbow drawing. Kali in the book also creates a rainbow allusion with sunflowers (Terry ref).

Kali: “field of yellow sunflowers grew up around them. A rainbow arcing over the golden tops.” (p. 139). “He noticed she’d drawn up there, a rainbow with her colored pencils. Maybe he’d suggest that for the playroom” (the rainbow room we see in s2) (p. 298)

I also already talked about how Terry saying "breath, sunflower, rainbow " is actually a reference to s1 Will- here (in link including pic of Will and Terry being told to “breath”.

*El in s3 also thinks of papa, her mother , and the rainbow room- cause she sees a cereal box with a rainbow (on it).

Dustin and susie sing a song from the film adaption of the book "never ending story". Which indicates how Will is subconsciously creating the supernatural creatures & people in the series . Before they sing, we also see susie is next to a ‘wizard of oz’ posters & she reads & talks to Dustin about the book "wizard of earthsea'. 2 of the 3 examples have rainbow-related songs (in their film adaptions) & all 3 hint at Will’s powers.

* wizard of earthsea:

It’s about a pre-teen wizard named Ged who has a bowl cut (Will) who casts a powerful spell, but the spell goes awry and instead he releases a shadow creature (by opening a portal between the living & dead- Will is a zombie boy remember?)! The new Archmage, Gensher, describes the shadow as an ancient evil that wishes to possess Ged. But the ‘shadow’ turns out to be a representation of the darkest aspects of his personality. It’ only when he calls the shadow monster by his own name “Ged”(cough mf=will the wise) does the monster stop acting out. The only way to save the world is for ged to then merge with the shadow(and for Ged to accept himself-and “become whole”).This also reminds me of the “Jungian shadow”

* never ending story:

Bastian ( who has a bowl cut- and is from single parent house hold) subconsciously creates a fantasy world being over run by darkness (symbolizing the loss of hope and dreams). One of the characters he creates is Atreyu (El). Atreyu ( was the child deemed the ‘chosen one). “Atreyu is knocked into the sea of possibilities. There he wakes on the shore of abandoned ruins. And Gmorick (mindflayer) then latches his jaws onto Atreyu’s (El’s) leg.”Pretty much what happened to El.”The Empress in the story later tells Atreyu, that despite being told he was the chosen one (he never was). And that it was always Bastian (Will) who was the chosen one-since his imagination created Fantasia (so he’s the only way to stop the darkness from over -running it).”

Will has mental health issues and accidentally writes a “story” about the shadow monster (reflecting his tra*ma). Bastian is depressed (over his parent) and subconsciously creates a story about darkness over-running everything. Like how Hopper describes his depression- like a black hole.

song Dustin & Susie sing:

“Written on the pages is the answer to a never ending story” (cough the books susie referenced - are explaining the answer to what’s causing the mindflayer/upsidedown/the lab...this story )

“DREAM a dream. And what you DREAM will be” ( Will’s imagination making his nightmares come true)

“Rhymes that keep their secrets Will unfold behind the clouds.And there upon a RAINBOW Is the answer to a never ending story.”

(the lyric “rhymes that keep their SECRETS” purposely pans to Will both times the song is sung). Because the ‘SECRET’ is -he’s causing everything. And thus he’s the only way to stop it- or they’ll all be stuck in a never-ending story. The only way to stop it is for Will to face his shadow/the mindflayer (aka the other Will) who is always shown within the STORM CLOUDS . Will needs to create a RAINBOW (out of those storm clouds). Like rainbows that show up AFTER a storm.He’d do this by accepting himself , his tra*ma/mental health relating to his dad, and or his gay identity- then the story will be able to end.Dustin even says “ defeat his RAINBOW of DARKNESS” (and later says a “rainbow is the answer ”(to the story). st book:”The RAINBOW stayed with Terry for a long while, but eventually it faded and in its place: DARKNESS. A pit.”AKA: Will has to face his symbolic darkness and the storm/and than create a rainbow from it- for the story to end...

When Dustin says ‘rainbow of darkness’ he talks about my little pony- where one of their friends became a dragon. in d&d wizards can become dragons &Bastian also summons a dragon with his imagination powers in ‘never ending story’. And Will is associated with dragons: s1he has dragon comic & drawing, s2 Will has dragon poster in his room + watches his friends play dragon game. And again... dungeons & dragons.

Also tw for s.a/parental ab*se (so skip to ‘wizard of oz’ if you prefer ). In the 4th book of wizard of Eathsea (20 years after the original, where ged was the protagonist). The new main protagonist - was r*ped and burned by her father as a child (and in the sequel she became a dragon as a form of empowerment ). which goes with my lonnie theory-sadly.

*wizard of oz:

it’s about a Dorothy creating a mythical world based on people she both likes and dislikes . Dorothy sings in the movie a song about a ‘RAINBOW’ and references ‘DREAMS’ coming true in a mythical land -much like the ‘never ending story’ song (referencing “rainbows”/”dreams” coming to life).

“There's a land that I heard of once in a lullaby Somewhere over the RAINBOW, Skies are blue, And the DREAMS that you dare to dream, really do come true...”

We see in s1 Hopper cop-partner calls the lab “emerald city”. Murray in s2 says people “don’t want to look behind the curtain” (to see what’s causing the supernatural -in the film what was literally behind the curtain was a wizard-cough like Will). We also have -lion, tiger, and bear stuffed animals (as a ‘lion, and tigers, and bears-oh my!’ quote )from the film. And David harbor (Hopper) when referencing the s4 rainbow room (quotes the song) and he also quotes a speech from Dorothy-when posting about the cabin the mindflayer destroyed.

2) Rainbow cups (hinting at Lonnie’s return)

We see 2 rainbow cups in the series.

in s2) when Mike & Will are sitting together & saying they’re “crazy together” . This cup next to them says “happy birthday” in rainbow. Later that season- they talk about Will’s birthday-rainbow drawing, Mike&Will meeting & Lonnie leaving. And in s2, we also see in Will’s room a card that says “sorry, I forgot your birthday”(most likely from Lonnie). So both Lonnie & Mike are associated with Will’s bday.

in s3) We see a woman yell “I don’t want her in my house!” (while she sits next to a rainbow cup). reminiscent of Joyce saying to Lonnie “get out of my house”. We also know there are rumors s4 takes place during Will’s birthday & Lonnie’s actor may have been spotted on set. Along with the fact (it’s pretty much confirmed) Mike will be visiting the Byers in s4. However, the woman (next to the rainbow cup) also says “2 visitor only. 2!″

THE 2 VISITORS ARE MIKE &LONNIE (for Will’s b day).

Also, in s3, when El is drinking from cup- she sees a rainbow. And what’s the first word she thinks of? “Papa.”

so rainbow+cup= shitty dads (lonnie & brenner) probably returning

*And of course if that’s the case -Lonnie (the same guy who called Will h*mophobic sl*rs) will not be supportive of Mike & Will’s “friendship”. And will not be nice to Mike (to say the least). Like... imagine Hopper in s3 - but we know he’s not bluffing and the audience won’t have the option to take it as a joke... and yes the s4 movies hint at that...

3) gay symbolism

First we have Mike wheeler. He in s1 has rainbows sheets, rainbow bedroom blinds , and in his basement there’s a heart propelled by a rainbow. This is like how in s3 Mike kisses El and there is a drawing that says "Mike'. And on the drawing is a heart propelled by a rainbow. I already explained how its symbolic of him trying to be straight/fighting his feelings for Will, but wherever he goes a rainbow still follows (even when he tries being romantic with El). He’s trying to hide his “rainbow heart” by dating El- why in s3 (the rainbow-heart in his basement) mysteriously disappeared from his room (but a similar symbol follows Mike even when he kisses El).

Even in s2 when talking about Will (in the AV tech room): Mike is placed in the center of 2 objects : an object with 11 on it & on the right a rainbow apple (this apple is supposed to be an ode to the gay father of computers- but also about the forbidden apple). Hinting at the love triangle of Mike (with El/Will). PLUS, in the ST book ‘worlds turned upsidedown’ they literally show Mike in the AV room- and put the caption “FALLING IN LOVE- with tech” (and placed rainbow flags next to the caption). And of course we have Mike & Will pose next to the rainbow apple- in the AV room.

We also see when Mike and Will says they’re “crazy together” (aka LOVE-as Flo stated) and they’re next to a rainbow cup that says Happy birthday .

And later that season they ref the rainbow ship Will drew for his birthday-which Joyce was "proud" of. And while dancing with a girl (Will according to the script was looking at Mike instead of her) . That girl is wearing a rainbow heart hair pin. This is essentially a parallel to Mike . Will (next to a rainbow heart) is dancing with a girl, but is secretly thinking of Mike. Mike (next to a rainbow heart) is kissing el but secretly thinking of Will (and immediately goes on a movie double date with Will after this). The lyrics of both these scenes indicate they're not happy pretending to be straight. The lyrics for Will are "every smile you fake". And Mike while kissing el is "just a little uncertainty can bring you down" (and during this lyric is when El puts her hands on him-and he removes her hands from him *aka he’s not as confident in the relationship as he pretends to be.

We see in s4 bts that the rainbow heart hair pin (worn by the girl Will dances with) is also worn by nancy while standing next to Robin (who is gay). So being near a ‘rainbow-heart’ is prob a hint a character is gay. Aka robin & Will & Mike.

tumblr user “awhstrangerthings” pointed out the nancy -hair clip detail.

In s1 when troy is calling Will h*mophobic sl*rs (in front of Mike) he wears a rainbow shirt. And max while often critiquing m*leven (in s3) (to Mike) often wears rainbow shirts. I talked about how I thought Troy and max subconsciously remind Mike he isn't straight - so they're associated with the rainbow iconography-post here. Like we see Max with rainbow sheets (like Mike) and than she immediately talks to him on the phone. I mean she could be queer- but I lean to that theory at the moment.

The whole being near rainbows when associating with a queer character makes sense (it’s like a ‘gay-dar”). Similar to Nancy’s hair clip when being near Robin/ that Girl having the same rainbow hair clip when dancing with Will. If we assume this theory than see a pattern with other characters (when speaking about/being near queer coded characters)....

it’s similar to how : When lucas (via subtext) criticizes m*leven- he is also next to a rainbow (in Erica's room). I explained here- why it’s about m*leven.

or when Jonathan says he’s going to hang out with Will (it’s near a rainbow).

This Jonathan moment -Is similar to when Steve ( who has a rainbow bandaid-from the Byers’ house) calls Mike “Nancy” (which is slang for a gay guy)

*another addition: you see in the comments of this post ghostgirlsatin mentioned Dart has a rainbow blanket. But, I noticed a couple of other things.

notice Dustin says "we have to talk- its about my friend ,Will". As Dustin is near rainbow lights and a rainbow bed sheet. Like how

A) rainbows are associated with the supernatural creatures + Will

B) rainbow lights associated with Will

C) rainbows near straight characters when talking about /near queer characters... similar to how Jonathan is near a rainbow when talking about Will

*also can’t tell if that is a ‘rainbow ship’ poster?

We also see Erica has a sunflower & rainbow drawing in her room... at the moment not sure if its just a random easteregg , foreshadowing something supernatural we're not aware of yet? or just for the m*leven diss?

(although given the fact i think some characters were created by Will- and given all the Max &Billy/Will & jonathan parallels ... the rainbow stuff may be a hint Will created them? I mean they even made a Troy comic just to show his dad is a bully.) But, at the moment, i still lean to (some) characters having rainbow iconography because they’re referring to/are near a queer character.

#will byers #byler #mike wheeler #dustin henderson #el hopper #lucas sinclair #max mayfield #steve harrington #robin buckley #nancy wheeler #jonathan byers #jim hopper #joyce byers #stranger things #stanger things theory

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seratlantisite · 2 years

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reading "the scandal of the wizard and the guard" on ao3 has been filling me with feelings about Court Wizard meltyre but also just thinking about Inn Between's characters all growing into their new roles and i just really wanted to capture how even when things change some things just stay the same and this is a lot of words for outfit designs.

design notes under the cut

farm fresh adventuring meltyre:

all home made clothing. knit mitts and sweaters, hand embroidery, dyed themselves with onion skins and their family farm's famous plums

bunched up shawl over his shoulders instead of a classic wizard robe because i thought it'd be fun to give him a nontraditional silhouette, really drive home that he doesn't know what he's doing yet

many layers to hide in and also because he always thinks he is going to be cold so he is always prepared

his order's greenish amulet adds a fun pop of colour

has a backpack under his shawl full of books

30 year old court wizard meltyre

finally has a robe! it's part of the official uniform but its the only part he uses because its the only practical bit. elbow length wide sleeves to minimize catching on his own fireballs

plus its warm and nice and has a lot of secret pockets

and it has a high collar to hide his face a little more

same red and yellow and greys palette as before because he's attached to that little bit of home, even if the colours are more vibrant because he bought them

still has a heavy shawl layer because he still thinks he will be cold, but this one was a present from lydda. still hand embroidered. she's gotten way better!

it is patched to hell and back because he loves it and you will have to pry it from his cold dead hands

the heart patch is from min and the hole it is hiding was her fault

the heart patch was from his old shawl

yes he has little holes in his nice shirt cuff he has not gotten around to fixing that yet either he is busy, no he won't just buy a new shirt it is perfectly fine even with the hole

magic research is just bad for clothes sterling i don't know what to tell you

he had to cave and replace his first ever hat but his first ever official court wizard hat is also very nice. even with the singe in the brim that was definitely his own fault. its sentimental now you understand

the feathers he stuck in the hat ribbon are all spell components

the pearl earring is also a spell component

the hat's brim is floppier and his bangs are a little shaggier, a little more in his face again to help hide him more when he is out and about

still wears his shawls and belts in the exact same style because it is comfortable. because he is still meltyre

#art of mine #inn between #meltyre the wizard #character design #dungeons and dragons #accessible art

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phati-sari · 3 years

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Arshi FF: Tere Bin - Chapter 8

Read from the beginning | Chapter 7

Chapter 8: Ranjha (listen while reading)

Khushi

��What was he doing here?”

Khushi answered without turning, her head resting on the window sill as she studied the moon. “I don’t know.”

It’d taken a long time to escape to the room she shared with her sister after they’d first stepped through the doors. First, Amma had asked about the hospital visit, making Khushi recite everything the Doctor Sahib had said while Bua-ji interrupted often to ask questions. Babu-ji had soon taken over, asking to see the paperwork Khushi had collected and asking a few questions of his own. Still full from the gol gappe, Khushi had nibbled on some puri under Jiji’s watchful gaze while the family considered the payment plan the clinic had laid out.

Luckily, no one had asked exactly how she’d gotten home.

“You were in his car, Khushi.” Jiji came to stand next to her, her tone coloured with disapproval.

“The auto broke down. He was driving past.”

“He, of all the people in Lucknow and Delhi, just happened to be driving by? At the exact moment your auto broke down?”

An odd defensiveness flared in her chest, words popping out of her mouth before she’d thought them through.

“What can I say, Jiji? My phone’s battery was dead, it was dark. He offered to drop me home.”

Jiji reached out to touch her shoulder. “Did he fight with you again?”

No, he bought me gol gappe.

“No more than usual,” Khushi tried to smile at her sister. “I’m fine. Really. He drove me home. That’s all.”

Though she looked unconvinced, Jiji stepped away with a nod to ready herself for bed. Khushi waited until she was alone to snatch her bag from where it hung on a hook. Her searching fingers found the business card he’d offered.

“Well, it’s just that you like arguing so much, and we argue so often … I think we should keep in touch.”

At the time, she’d been so startled that she’d simply taken the card and slid from the car without answering. Jiji, fortunately, had been too busy scowling at him through the windows to notice as she’d slipped it into her bag.

The card was thick, the surface almost velvety to the touch. It sported a bright red logo in the top corner and announced his name in crisp black letters — ARNAV SINGH RAIZADA. Khushi shook her head to clear the unbidden memory of correcting his name on hundreds of letters.

The writing on the card included a number she recognised for the reception desk at the head offices and an email address that his managers monitored. But he’d scrawled another number untidily along one side with a black pen.

His personal number, Khushi realised with a jolt.

It felt strangely intimate, though logic reminded her that she’d had the same number saved in her phone before he’d broken it on the storeroom floor.

Why is he still in Lucknow?

On the heels of this thought came another: Why should I care?!

Her mind was suddenly awhirl with memories — raised voices and shouted words, a fall from his window, the broken door to the storeroom. His airs about money and power. The terror of the guesthouse.

Khushi ripped the business card in half, her breath coming in rapid pants, and then tore it into even smaller pieces. Tears stung in her eyes. She scrunched the pieces into her palm as Jiji returned to the room.

“Make sure you wake up early tomorrow,” her sister draped her towel near the window. “We’re going to the temple.”

“Okay.”

Waiting until Jiji was occupied with something in the cupboard, Khushi returned the ruined card to her bag. In the bathroom, she brushed her teeth and washed her face before studying her reflection. Her pulse was a chaotic drumbeat in her body, her thoughts a wild tangle. And underneath it all was something that thrilled and scared her at the same time, something that had followed her to Lucknow.

#####

“Everything leads back to him,” Jiji had groaned, rolling on her side on the bed they shared. “Just go to sleep quietly.”

It had been a week since they’d returned to Lucknow, and Khushi had been comparing the price of potatoes between Lucknow and Delhi. Or at least, that was how the conversation had started. She couldn’t remember how they’d gotten to talking about that Laad Governor.

“You’re right Jiji. We’re in Lucknow now and we’ll soon forget that we ever went to Delhi. Or that we met such cruel, haughty people. Although … Anjali-ji had such sweetness in her. It’s a shame that we had to leave without saying goodbye to her. At least we met one nice person in Delhi. Oh … and Nani-ji. Maybe two nice people. And Aakash-ji, I suppose, though —”

“— Khushi! Are you going to count out every member of his family? Your mind is like a compass that’s always stuck on him!”

“And why wouldn’t it be?” Khushi had asked hotly. “He sent me there to do some meaningless task, knowing the place was about to collapse.”

“I know. You’ll never have to see him again, Khushi. You resigned from that awful job, you gave him an earful, and now you’re here and he’s there.”

The words should have elated her, but they only left her feeling strangely hollow.

#####

That hollowness sat heavily inside her as Khushi joined her sister in their bed a few minutes later, sliding between the covers with a sigh.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Jiji’s voice was soft in the dimness.

“Yes.”

“You barely ate dinner.”

“I’m not hungry.”

A short silence, in which Khushi’s mind unhelpfully replayed the way she’d fallen into his arms yet again.

Oh Devi Maiyya, couldn’t you find another place to make me slip? You mustn’t have liked the offering I left you this morning.

“I’m glad we came back to Babu-ji,” Jiji said softly. “I can’t imagine being away from home at a time like this.”

“The doctors said that as long as he rests properly and takes his medicines, there’s nothing to worry about.”

“He isn’t resting nearly enough, even with both of us at the shop.”

Khushi nodded her agreement, “He’s worried about the bills.”

“Bua-ji and Amma are talking about selling some jewellery. I thought I’d give them my bangles.”

“I have bangles we can sell too.”

It took a while for Jiji’s breathing to fall into the deep, slow rhythm of sleep. Khushi lay awake, her thoughts chasing each other in ever-tightening spirals.

The night of the photoshoot. The softness of her pallu as it slipped. The scorch of his gaze as it roved over her body and left her feeling singed. The electricity between them on Teej, every touch a bolt of lightning. The weight of him pressing into her in the storeroom.

She flushed, skin prickling and warmth blooming in secret places.

Stop it, Khushi. A handful of gol gappe is all it takes for you to forget his cruelty?

She turned onto her side with a huff. Sometimes it felt as though her life had been split into Before and After, as though falling at the fashion show had created an entirely new Khushi Kumari Gupta. A Khushi who was strangely compelled towards him, a Khushi who’d come dangerously close to swooning in his arms today. A Khushi who wanted something she had no name for.

“I didn’t know the situation at the guesthouse was that bad!”

“Do you really think I would’ve sent you there if I’d known? Is that what you think of me?”

For the first time, she allowed herself to entertain the idea that he hadn’t sent her there on purpose.

So what if he hadn’t? I was still trapped there for an entire day. He was wrong.

But the thought was impossible to dislodge now that it’d wormed into her mind. Having assumed he’d wanted to argue every time he’d approached her, she now considered whether he might have been trying to explain. She saw their interactions in a new light. The sweets, the cheque.

Did he feel guilty? Was he trying to say sorry?

She eventually fell into an uneasy sleep, tormented in her dreams by his eyes, his voice, the memory of his touch. She woke just before dawn, breathless and damp with sweat, the sheets tangled with her legs. Flinging them off, Khushi sat up in bed. Her sister made a questioning noise.

“Sleep, Jiji. It’s not time to wake up yet.”

A nameless storm raged in her chest, making it hard to breathe. She squeezed her eyes shut.

I should hate him.

A lurch in her tummy.

But I don’t.

Padding slowly over to her bag, she fished out the pieces of the business card one by one. There was a roll of tape amongst the paper and pens scattered on the table in the corner. Khushi glanced back at her sister as she sat. It took a few minutes to line up the jagged edges, to press the tape along them with trembling fingers until she could read his name again.

He’d set down a challenge. She wouldn’t back down.

********

Thanks for reading :) I know some of you may be disappointed with the level of introspection in this chapter and where I chose to end it. Tere Bin is Arnav’s story, one where he has to work out what he wants and how to get it while Khushi is in Lucknow. While I intend to dip into Khushi’s point of view where the story demands it (and I feel that her presence greatly improved Chapters 6 and 7), it will focus heavily on Arnav. I am not intentionally writing something to annoy or disappoint readers. I’m trying to do something very specific with this story, and like all experiments, I’m learning as I go :)

#ipkknd #iss pyaar ko kya naam doon #ff: tere bin #iwrotethis #arshi ff #arshi #ipkknd ff #mine

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miss-1ng · 3 years

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Dimiclaude kiss prompt no. 55?

this turned out... longer than i intended lmao

also hope you're okay with a soulmate au, because this is the only idea i had for this lol! thanks for requesting <3 <3

(also a warning for spoilers about claude's backstory and maybe dimitri's a little bit but otherwise i'm pretty sure everything is spoiler-free!!)

His name is Khalid, is what Dimitri’s mind - wide awake from the searing sting of finally gaining his soulmark - says, barely a whisper while when Ingrid got hers, she screamed with joy the moment she found out her soulmate was Glenn.

That was a year ago, on the fourth of the Guardian Moon, precisely the day of her birth, which was celebrated with her family and friends.

It’s legend that you become of age to receive a soulmark from the day you turn twelve to the day you turn sixteen. Sylvain, two years older, had, unsurprisingly received his two years prior to Ingrid and Felix who both received theirs when they officially became of age.

Dimitri however, while not exactly a rare case, though not a complete normality, had received his a year later than which his childhood friends did, at age 13.

Her mark glistens a glittering gold on the inside of her left wrist, corresponding with Glenn’s which is on the inside of his right one. Dimitri remembers her gushing how when the first time they held hands, their marks shone when they touched.

He also remembers Felix gagging and glaring at the two lovebirds for the rest of the day, completely enraptured with one another and nothing else.

As of that day, their betrothal was made official, now that Ingrid had her mark to confirm the one Glenn owned.

That was a while back now, and today, an exact year later, is Dimitri’s birthday. The mark on his arm stings, but as his eyes really take in the word in beautiful script on his wrist, he begins to ignore the pain.

Exactly three hours later, he’s at the Felix and Glenn’s home, sitting outside on the grass with the two of them, having recently abandoned the wooden training swords. Glenn is a full four years older than all of them, except Sylvain, who is only two years older. Yet despite his age Glenn still treats them the same.

When Dimitri finally shows the two his soulmark after lots of nagging, he notices the way Felix bites his lip and averts his gaze.

But before he can question it, Felix teases “You’re going to have a boyfriend!” before bursting out into laughter.

Dimitri hadn’t even thought of that, fully focused on the fact that he has a soulmark and not on the fact that his soulmate has the name of a boy.

He… isn’t too sure what to feel about that.

“And you are too,” Glenn calls in a sing-song voice to his younger brother, only to get fiercely elbowed in the stomach. A scowl has found its way onto the bright-eyed boy’s face.

Dimitri doesn’t say a word. Felix has been oddly secretive about his soulmark ever since he got it a month after Ingrid’s, while she had been flouncing it around whenever she got the chance and wasn’t with Glenn. Though at the same time, even at thirteen, Felix has been secretive, spending more time by himself than with the group unless he was absolutely forced too.

“Shut up!” he snaps, folding his arms and pouting. “I hate you.”

“So kind, Fe,” Glenn teases with a grin, ruffling his younger brother’s hair.

Silently Dimitri wonders what it would be like if he was in Glenn’s shoes, and he had a little brother of his own.

The silence Dimitri’s indulged in gets broken with a familiar call, and Dimitri turns to see Sylvain, even taller than the last time he saw his friend, standing alongside Ingrid who immediately rushes to greet Dimitri with a hug before running over to Glenn.

“Happy birthday, Dimitri!” Sylvain hollers the second he closes the door, separating the kids from the adults indoors. He joins the group. “How does it feel to no longer be the only soulmate-less one?” He adds a wink as if the very phrase itself wasn’t terrible enough.

A collective group of groans reverberate around the circle they’ve formed.

“You’re an idiot,” Felix grumbles to the older teen, averting all eye contact and instead vouching for a heated glare at the grass. Oh, if looks could kill.

“Aww, I love you too, Fe,” Sylvain teases, still grinning merrily as if he nothing is wrong with the world.

Felix’s face flushes. “Why does everyone keep saying that?”

Ingrid laughs. “I can say it too, if you’d like.” She clears her throat, as if beginning some long and important speech. “Aww, I love you too, Felix.”

“Now that’s left is Dimitri,” Glenn notes, looking at him.

The younger Fraldarius looks just about ready to bolt as Dimitri says “Aww, I love you too, Felix.”

Instead, he just mutters “It’s your birthday so I’ll take it. Just this once though.”

Sylvain leans close to Dimitri and whispers in a not-so-quiet voice “A little birdy told me you received your soulmark!” Bold black cursive writing stares up at him with non-existent eyes and he feels his heart start to thud.

Thump. Thump-thump. Thump. Thump-thump.

He doesn’t reply, instead peeling his sleeve a little higher above and shows Ingrid and Sylvain his soulmark.

The taller of the two squints at it, as if it’s hard to see. Ingrid’s reaction is more surprised, by the way her eyes widen, and her jaw goes a little slack. She fixes it when she sees his eyes on her with a small smile. “That’s great, Dimitri! It’s so pretty,” she gushes in a very un-Ingrid manner, but the twinkle in her eyes is all the same. “I wonder when you’ll meet your soulmate…”

“Khalid’s not a Fódlan name,” Sylvain offhandedly comments. Dimitri frowns at him, and he hastily continues. “I mean it’s not a Fódlan name I’ve heard. Who knows? You could get some hottie from Duscur or Brigid.”

“Of course, someone from Duscur or Brigid would come all the way over for our Prince,” Glenn drily says, pecking Ingrid on the cheek at her wide-eyed smile. “We’re not getting rid of him that easily.”

His soulmark was something Dimitri was very focused on for a while.

Then Duscur happened and everything seemed to fall apart.

His family, his friends… everything changed. The mark on Ingrid’s wrist faded to a black splotch, and the golden writing had completely disappeared.

Felix had shut himself off completely, not leaving his room unless he was training and not talking to anyone unless he was yelling at them.

Sylvain… seemed more closed off – more subdued. Dimitri saw him less and less as the months ebbed on.

And Dimitri… Dimitri couldn’t sleep, couldn’t focus, couldn’t even think. His dreams being haunted by the dead, his father begging for revenge, Glenn hissing in his ear, taunting him, his mother, crying at his feet.

“You should’ve saved us,” they hiss. “Kill them for us. Kill them all!”

It’s not the first time he wakes to a cold sweat, a scream hanging on the edge of his lips.

He’s sent to live, along with the Duscur boy he met, Dedue, at Rodrigue’s place, and there Dimitri finds it frequent where he gets the full brunt of Felix’s verbal abuse. He wants to talk back, to say it wasn’t his fault, but he can’t find the words, can’t even find the motivation to speak. Instead, he just nods, silent, and Dedue finds him, concern lingering in his gaze.

It’s like that for a while.

Then the rebellion happens, and Felix seems to hate him even more.

It’s almost a relief when he arrives to the Officers Academy.

There he meets Edelgard von Hresvelg (or reunites, perhaps, if his hunch is in fact correct), heir to the Empire, and Claude von Riegan, heir to House Riegan.

Claude is… well… Claude is a lot of things.

In their audience with Rhea, he is stiff and stoic-faced, though the second they’re released from the chamber, he introduces himself properly to Dimitri. “So, you’re the prince,” he says with a wink. “Nice to meet you.”

“It is good to meet you too,” says Dimitri in return, dipping his head. He offers a small smile.

It’s not the only time they talk. As the year ebbs on, Dimitri gets to know Claude, should it be through sparring together, or even tea times Claude has insisted on. Claude is… well, first of all he’s nice and he’s kind, and he’s also very funny. He seems to bring a smile to Dimitri’s face whenever he’s around, and not only that but he’s…

…he’s beautiful.

Maybe it’s his smile, Dimitri supposes, his genuine one, or maybe those piercing green eyes. He’s also been good looking.

Sometimes when they train, Dimitri catches himself staring, and Claude’s caught him too, offering a wink and a teasing comment without any heat.

Not only that but Dimitri’s heart flutters whenever he’s around Claude, and he has to remind himself constantly that this isn’t okay because Claude is not his soulmate. The mark on his wrist proves just that much.

“You’re staring, your Highness.”

Dimitri flinches, almost forgetting that Sylvain is opposite him, lazily twirling his lance. He smirks at his childhood friend. “Got your eyes on someone?”

It would be great if he was immune to Sylvain’s teasing, but he is only human, and heat rises to his cheeks. “No!” His voice sounds a few pitches higher than it usually is. He clears his throat, averting his gaze from Claude who turns away from Hilda who he’s sparring with (how he got her to do so remains a mystery to the school) to offer a questioning brow. “I mean, uh, no. Of course not.”

“Sure, sure.”

Sylvain doesn’t sound at all convinced. He leans closer, whispering in Dimitri’s ear, “I mean Riegan is pretty hot. I don’t think even your soulmate would blame you for checking him out.”

Dimitri splutters, “W-what?”

“I have to go,” Sylvain says. “Pick up some of the ladies- oh, hey, Fe!” He runs off towards the direction of Felix who enters the training ground, and Dimitri doesn’t stop him, staring into the distance as his cheeks turn redder and redder as the seconds pass.

Nevertheless, Dimitri still goes out of his way to spend his time with Claude, pointedly ignoring his soulmark whenever he does.

“Your princliness!” Claude calls, waving in greeting as he runs over to him. Dimitri tries not to blush when he yet again winks.

“Claude!” He tries his hardest not to sound too surprised. “What-what are you doing here?”

He looks amazing. Dressed in a sharp suit he’s seen many of the other students wearing, his hair tousled and falling in front of his eyes. “I think the proper question is what are you doing here? Dedue’s worried about you. Says you haven’t even showed up to the ball and-”

Dimitri’s brain seems to shut off, his mind not listening as he surges forwards, closing the distance between them with a kiss.

It lasts two seconds. Maybe three.

Because immediately after their lips touch Dimitri lets go, eyes wide. “I- that was out of line,” he rushes. “I’m sorry, Claude, I shouldn’t have done that-”

But Claude pulls him back in, and Dimitri feels the mark on his wrist burn and-

He stares down at it, watching the white handwriting shimmer to gold. “What…?”

“I have been waiting so long to do that,” Claude breathes, oblivious to Dimitri’s confusion. He raises an eyebrow, clutching his hands. “Hey, what’s wrong…?”

“Khalid,” Dimitri breathes. Claude’s eyes widen. “That’s your name?”

“I-” Claude pauses, before nodding. “Yes. It is.”

Dimitri pulls him close, arms wrapping around him. He kisses Claude – or is it Khalid? – again, and again, and again. “It’s a beautiful name.”

“Mmhm.”

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Their night ends not in the ballroom, but outside under the moonlight, the memory of soft kisses and warm embraces never to leave Dimitri’s mind.

#fe3h #dimiclaude #request #kiss prompt #dimitri alexandre blaiddyd #claude von riegan #my fanfics

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nessinborderland · 3 years

Text

Between Apple Pies and Chocolate Cosmos (01)

Pairing: Aguni x Reader

Genre: Fluff, Character Study

Words: 6.4k

Summary: Aguni first laid eyes on you in the greenhouse. After that, he simply couldn't take you out of his mind.

Warnings: Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Feelings, Eventual Romance, Denial of Feelings, Slow Burn, Other Additional Tags to Be Added

Notes: This was inspired by the wonderful @aghostsrantingcorner ask. For reference, there’s some things in this fic that were inspired by these posts by @hatterstan-shameblog. This will be 2-3 parts max. Hope you enjoy it as much as I do <3

Aguni first laid eyes on you in the greenhouse.

It was a rainy morning, and the Beach was as silent as you would expect after a night of deadly games and partying. He always took advantage of the silent mornings to have a walk around the place, breathe some fresh air, and – most importantly – attend to his garden.

He had started working on it soon after he and Takeru found the Beach, still in the early days when it was only them. He never saw a reason why he shouldn’t. Since he was stuck there for an indefinite amount of time – since he would probably die there – he might as well keep up with the only hobby that brought him some resemblance of peace.

So, he did it. Every single morning. It kept him grounded; reminded him of who he was.

His Eden – as he liked to think about it – was a medium-sized glasshouse near the kitchens, surrounded by land where he had replanted a variety of fruit trees and berry bushes that he had found around Tokyo. It needed some remodeling, but it was perfect as soon as he was done fixing the broken glass and built a system to expertly use the rainwater. He loved the place. Its variety of colors and smells, the silence, and – what made him the happiest – being able to watch the literal fruit of his labor grow.

It was his little piece of heaven in the hell he was trapped in.

Now, one thing about the greenhouse: no one was allowed inside the place beside him. Everybody knew it. It was not like anyone had any real interest in plants or vegetables but, still, people knew that that was his place. Even the old ladies responsible for the meals knew to not go inside; if they needed any ingredient, they asked him.

So imagine his surprise when he got closer to the glass walls of his greenhouse and heard soft singing coming from inside. It was barely audible, the tip-tap from the rain hitting the glass making it harder for him to understand any words. But he knew someone was in there.

His first thought was to barge in and kick out whoever was disrupting his garden. He could feel his anger grow as he stared at the blurred figure on the other side of the glass, messing around with his stuff. He took a deep breath before opening the door and stepping inside.

The air inside the greenhouse was warm, with light condensation already sliding down the glass walls. The intruder – a woman, he noticed – was with her back turned to him, humming a song that was more than familiar due to Takeru’s taste in music.

“... lay all your love on– ” you gasped as you turned to him, no doubt startled by his presence. The vase in your hands shattered as it hit the floor with a loud smash, and you let out another startled sound. You crouched to clean up the mess, a row of apologies already escaping from your lips. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry, please don’t move while I–”

“You shouldn’t be here,” was all he said as he stood there, stoic and cold expression looking at you from above. Your face was vaguely familiar to him – like every other face at the Beach – but he knew nothing about you. He noticed when you froze and slowly looked up, locking eyes with him. He saw the exact moment you recognized him, eyes growing wide and mouth agape as you held broken pieces of clay in your hands.

“Aguni–”

“Clean up your mess and leave,” he mumbled as he walked past you to access the damage you had done to his greenhouse. He noticed how several of his previous empty vases were now occupied by small plants and flowers that he had meant to work on that morning. You had just done his work for him. And perfectly, he could tell. Or as perfect as he could expect from someone that wasn’t him. He felt his anger subside. “The chamomile is supposed to be planted next to the tomatoes,” he said as he started carefully removing the small flowers from the vases. “We have no need for tea here.”

“Hmm...I thought you were using those for medicinal purposes?” you hesitantly asked. He kept his back to you, focusing on the task at hand as he waited for you to leave. Leave, however, you did not. "I'm sure they could be useful if–"

"There are only two kinds of people here," he interrupted in a cold tone. "The living and healthy, and the dead. If you're wounded, you belong to the latter. The tomatoes, though, could use some–"

"But couldn't we start an infirmary here?" Your question made him stop what he was doing, and he raised a brow as he looked at you over his shoulder. No one interrupted him; ever. You clearly didn't notice his hard stare as you continued to talk, "We could use garlic and oregano oil for infections, and aloe vera for–"

"You shouldn't be here," he repeated, now in a tone slightly louder than he liked to use. You halted mid-sentence, the small smile on your lips changing into a frown. "I'm not repeating myself. This greenhouse is off-limits. Leave."

He gave you one last glance before focusing again on his task, listening as you gathered the broken vase. A whimper made him look back at you, watching as you stared at your bleeding finger, droplets of blood falling on the rich soil underneath you. He sighed before grabbing a roll of paper towels from a shelf above his head, turning to hand you one.

"Thank you," you said in a low tone as you accepted the help and involved the tissue around your finger, hissing from the pain.

Only then did he notice what that broken vase had been carrying. At your feet, in the middle of a small mountain of dirt, was a chocolate cosmos. It wasn't one of his flowers, he was sure of that. He had never even seen a live specimen before.

"Weren't those extinct?" he asked before he could stop himself.

Your eyes widen at his question before you looked at him with a soft smile on your lips. He felt the tips of his ears get warm; why in the hell were you smiling at him?

"Mhm, I think so... You can still find them in captivity, though," you said as you gently picked up the reddish-brown flower. You looked at him for a moment before nodding to the table behind him. "Could I get another vase, please? It's just that she's been staying in a box since I got her and I just wanted to– oh, thanks!"

You smiled at him again as he handed you another small vase without a word. Aguni averted his eyes, focusing on your hands as you arranged the pretty flower in its new home. He felt... uneasy, is the word. His usual relaxing morning had been ruined by some random woman with a nice smile.

He didn't like that one bit.

"Well... I'm gonna go now," you awkwardly started as you made your way to the door, before stopping and turning around as if you forgot something. "Oh, by the way, did you...did you do all this?" you asked, gesticulating around you. He nodded once and you smiled again. "It's beautiful. Good job."

With those words, you finally left him alone.

Aguni was sure he wasn't just blushing in his ears now. His whole face was warm. He never had anyone compliment him on his gardening skills before. Yeah, Takeru told him several times he was good at it, but no one had actually shown interest. It made him feel some kind of way.

He shook his head and got back to his work. He could still enjoy his quiet morning before a council meeting if he was fast enough.

»«»«»«

You were there the next morning.

The sun had barely risen when he approached the greenhouse, a warm cup of coffee in hand while he whistled a tune that had been stuck in his head since he woke up. He hadn't even noticed you until he went to open the door, your voice making him jump slightly where he stood.

"You like ABBA too?" you asked from behind him.

He looked over his shoulder to stare at you. You were sitting under a tree not far away, that same nice smile on your face. You were holding something in your hands – something that he noticed was hot – as steam was visible in the chill morning air.

He felt his ears get warm again; damnit, he hadn't even realized that the tune he was whistling was the same song he had caught you singing the day before. He took a deep breath and shook his head.

You both stood there, clearly waiting for the other to speak first. He was never a man of many words, though, so he just nodded once in your direction before getting inside his greenhouse and closing the door behind him.

A knock on the door not long after made him roll his eyes. He walked away from his work table with a sigh, cursing at his lack of peace and quiet; all the man wanted was to drink his morning coffee in solitude.

"What?" he asked as he opened the door to find you there, holding something wrapped in paper in his direction. He had noticed the steaming thing earlier. "What's that?"

"I wanted to thank you," you said, almost stumbling over your words as you signaled him to take it from you. "It's a pie."

"A pie?" he asked slowly, raising a brow in distrust.

"Yes, apple pie," you sent him a small smile as you tried to get him to accept the baked good. When he just stood there, arms crossed, your smile fell. He almost, almost, made a move to grab your offer then. "Hmm, Mrs. Yamamoto from the kitchen lets me use ingredients sometimes to bake stuff, and as long as I clean everything after–"

"I don't eat breakfast," he interrupted, arms still crossed as he looked you up and down with furrowed brows. He was trying to understand your intentions towards him. What was your move here?

"Oh, but you should, you know?" you said in a raised tone. "It's the most important meal of the day! A-and this one was made with your apples, so I thought you would–"

"What do you want from me?"

Even though Aguni was a man of few words, he never had any problem being direct. When you just looked at him with big, confused eyes, he was even more weirded out by your manners. You were either being genuine or were a really good actress. He didn't know what made him more uncomfortable.

"I just want to... to thank you for the vase?" you hesitantly answered, arms lowering.

His hand snapped towards your arm before he even realized, suddenly aware that he did want that pie. However, a pained gasp made him release you immediately upon touching you over your jacket.

"Are you hurt?" he asked, secretly hoping he hadn't actually hurt you.

"I- I'm fine," you answered with a shake of your head. "It was just a small injury from yesterday's game."

"Let me see," he ordered.

You stared wide-eyed at him, and it almost made him backtrack and send you away. Why should he care if you were hurt?

Aguni was about to do exactly that when you gingerly extended your arm in his direction. He focused on your arm as his fingers lightly grabbed your wrist, pulling your sleeve up to show a burn mark roughly the size of your palm. It didn't look too bad, but he could see that you hadn't put anything on it.

"Come," he said as he gestured at you to follow him inside the greenhouse.

He worked fast as he prepared something that would help you with your burn. He didn't know much about medicinal plants, but he knew enough.

He gestured at you to sit on the table as he carefully applied a mix of aloe vera and oats to your injury with light feather-like touches. It was all done in silence until he heard a noise from you, something resembling a barely huffed laugh. He glanced up to notice you looking straight at him, that same damned smile on your lips. He quickly focused back on the injury, hoping you wouldn't notice his red ears.

"I thought I was part of the dead now," you said, clearly referencing what he had said the day before. He grunted with a shrug, now at all interested in talking about his change of ideals. "You know...I never thought you were the type," you kept talking, and he kept addressing your injury. "To like plants, I mean. This place is amazing."

"What type am I, then?" he caught himself asking. Not that he particularly cared about your answer, but curiosity got the best of him. You laughed at his words and shrugged.

"Hmm, I don't know... the type that punches tigers?" He had to control the will to smile then, hiding his face from view. "I really wasn't expecting tall, big, and stoic Aguni to be so good with plants. I'm pleasantly surprised."

His movements halted for a second as he processed your words. He was sure he was red all over his face now, damn you. He continued what he was doing before he could overthink your words too much.

"Never judge a book by its cover."

He cringed as soon as those words left his mouth. What a corny thing to say. He decided then that your burn was sufficiently covered in aloe, and immediately retracted his hands, turning his back to you as he cleaned his fingers and tried to get his blush under control.

"Hmm, I guess you're right…" you said as he heard you stand up. "Well, thank you again, for this." He nodded and grunted in acknowledgment without turning to face you. "And the pie is here, just in case you want to try it." You hesitated, "...Hmm if you don't want it, you can always give it to Last Boss. He- he caught me in the kitchens once and I promised to bake him stuff if he helped me clean up after. He doesn't talk much and he's kind of scary, but he's nice." He turned to you then, and the expression on his face might've told you that you were overstaying your visit, so you quickly rushed for the door. "Mm okay, bye!" you said as you sent him an awkward wave and left.

He wondered if you thought he was scary but nice.

»«»«»«

A piece of chocolate cake was left by his greenhouse the day after.

The day after that, a croissant.

The gifts were always accompanied by small notes written in pretty handwriting. Some were simple recipes; others were small facts about medicinal plants he knew nothing about. He kept them all, safely hidden in a can on his worktable. A week went by where he expected a new pastry or sweet to welcome him. And, without fail, there it was. He never saw you around though, in the mornings or throughout the day, which he found odd. He didn't even know your name, but he found himself searching for you throughout the Beach, or in the games at night. But he never saw you. He would've thought you were dead if it weren't for the consistent gifts you left at his door.

Now, he wasn't lying when he said he wasn't a man for breakfast. He really wasn't. But after trying a piece of that apple pie, he saw himself devouring almost the whole thing. The same with the cake and the croissant. They were probably the best baked goods that he had ever tried. He was even more excited to start his mornings.

This morning, however, he arrived at the greenhouse to find nothing by the door. No box, no note, no wrapping. Nothing. He furrowed his brows, feeling disappointed, but quickly shrugged the feeling off as he got inside. Your pleasantries had to stop someday.

It bothered him, though. And he hated the fact that it bothered him. He hated the fact that he cared. He spent the day thinking about it. Thinking about you. Where could you possibly be? What happened? He didn’t even know your name. He didn’t know what bedroom you lived in, and it was driving him mad.

He had zoned out throughout the morning meeting, lashed out at several of the militants, and was now fully ignoring Takeru as his best friend went on and on about something he didn’t care enough to even pretend to be listening.

“Mori, hey!” His friend snapped his fingers in front of his face, forcing Aguni out of his thoughts. He stared at Takeru with a frown.

“What?” he asked, taking a sip from the glass of water in front of him.

“The first time all week that we’re having lunch together, and you’re quieter than usual,” his friend said, nodding at the plate of barely touched food in front of him. “You’re not even eating. What’s going on?”

“I’m fine,” he shrugged, stabbing a piece of roasted rabbit with his fork and taking a bite. He chewed as he thought of a good excuse. Takeru could be annoyingly perceptive when it came to other people’s emotions, especially his. “Just have a lot on my mind, that’s all,” he finally said.

His friend looked at him for a moment before setting his elbows on the table, supporting his chin on his palms. Oh no, he knew what that meant. He was about to be questioned to death.

"Are you in love?" he asked, a slight smirk on his lips.

Aguni choked on his own spit at the man's question, violently coughing as he vehemently shook his head.

"What the hell are you talking about?!" he asked after easing his cough, throat burning, and eyes teary from the effort.

"Well let's see," Takeru started, hand raised as he prepared himself to make a list. Aguni instantly regretted his question. "You've been late to meetings almost every morning for the past week, you barely pay attention to anything I tell you and I'm pretty sure I heard you hum 'Lay All Your Love on Me' by ABBA the other day. I've never heard you do anything close to singing," Takeru said as he wiggled three raised fingers before raising a fourth. "And a little bird told me that they heard you talking with someone inside your garden house." The smirk on his lips turned into a grin as Aguni averted his eyes. "So, tell me; who is she? Or is it a he? C'mon, you know you can tell–"

"I don't know what you're talking about," was all he said in what he hoped was a nonchalant tone.

Takeru wasn't easy to fool, though.

"You know what, I know you're full of shit, but I will allow it," he said with a fork pointed in his direction. "For now, at least. Now it's dessert time!" Takeru licked his lips as he pulled a tray to the center of the table. "I've been wanting you to try this for days, it's delicious!" He opened the tray to uncover two perfectly sized individual pies. Not just any pies, either. Aguni knew exactly who made them.

"Where did you get this?" he blurted out, staring at the perfectly cooked pastries. Takeru looked at him with a confused look.

"Huh, the kitchen? Where else?"

"Yeah, but who made them?" Aguni pressed further, wanting an answer that would show him that you were actually alive. "Were they made today?"

"Uh, I would hope so, yeah. And I don't know who made them, old Yamamoto just said it was one of her helpers," Takeru retorted with a shrug. "They're amazing, though, you should try it."

Aguni almost felt himself sag in relief. If these were made today, that meant that you were alive. It also meant that you definitely had stopped leaving gifts at his door. He tried not to focus on how he felt a little hurt by it. It was not like you owed him anything, anyway.

He still couldn't stop thinking about you as he finished his lunch with Takeru. He hated to admit it, but he felt bad for how he had treated you when you first met. He felt like he owed you at least an apology, and – not like he would ever admit it to himself – he wanted to see you again.

He always went for a short walk after lunch before having to proceed with his duties for the day. He wasn't exactly surprised to find himself by the kitchens, peeping inside the large double doors to take a look – part of him hoping to see you there.

What he saw instead were the so-called Food Ladies, a group of old women that had taken upon themselves the important role of cooking for everyone at the Beach. They were now chilling and having their own meals after the lunch hour rush. He spotted Mrs. Yamamoto, the oldest of the bunch – that also happened to be the boss – leaning by the doors that led outside, smoking her usual cigarette. She spotted him too, with small dark eyes that made him want to run away. It was strangely similar to the way his grandmother used to look at him when he misbehaved as a child.

“Oi, boy, c’mere,” she called him before he could walk away. The laughs and conversations of the other women ceased immediately as he entered the room. They eyed him for some time, one of the old ladies elbowing another before whispering something he couldn’t hear. His brows furrowed; he hated all that attention.

“Mrs. Yama–”

“You have to learn how to control your militants, Aguni,” she said as soon as he got close enough. “Two of your boys were disturbing one of my girls this morning. God knows what they would’ve done to the poor thing if I hadn’t shooed them away.” He had to control his facial expression; was she talking about you? “That girl gets up before dawn to cook sweets for so many people in this godforsaken place, and that’s how they repay her?” The old woman shook her head, before adding, “The rude boy with the piercings on his face and the odd one with the katana. See to it that they don’t get close to her again, do ya hear me?”

He nodded once before turning to leave, anger already simmering inside him. He had the urge to use his fists on a very specific someone.

He found whom he was looking for on the roof, as he expected. Last Boss was the first to notice him, eyes going wide as Aguni power walked to the man next to him.

“...and Chishiya– oh fuck! What the hell?!” Niragi screamed as Aguni pushed him toward the edge of the roof before forcing him to lean over it.

He held the man by his collar, almost making him lose his balance and fall to his death. Part of him really wanted to let go. He knew what Niragi was capable of.

“What were you doing in the kitchen this morning?” he asked in a cold, emotionless tone. The younger man looked down before visibly gulping and staring at him with a furrowed brow.

“T- The kitchen?...” he asked back. Aguni took a deep breath before loosening the grip on his shirt, making Niragi yelp and grab his arm. “Look look, it was his idea to go there, I didn’t do anything!”

Aguni looked back at Last Boss, and the man raised his hands while shaking his head.

“He- he just followed me there, I didn’t ask him to come with me,” the tattooed man said, stumbling on his words. “If you’re talking about the old lady, she kicked us out, but we didn’t do anything, I swear.”

“The girl?” he asked through gritted teeth. He was starting to lose his patience. The younger men shared a look between them before Last Boss started talking.

“Y/N?” he asked for clarification. So that was your name. “We didn’t touch her. Niragi just took some pies and we left.”

“Is that so?” Aguni asked Niragi, the man still in his grasp. He knew what he was capable of, and he wouldn’t put it past Last Boss to lie for his friend. “Cause that’s not what I heard…” his fingers loosened once again around the man’s collar, making him tighten his grip on Aguni’s arm.

“Fine, fine, I- I might’ve teased her a little,” the man confessed. “But I didn’t mean to make her cry, and we left right after. I didn’t do anything, I swear!”

Aguni considered his words for a moment, before pulling Niragi off the edge and pushing him to the ground. The man cursed something under his breath that Aguni preferred to ignore as he now focused on Last Boss.

“Do you know her last name?” he asked. The man shook his head. Aguni sighed; he would have to check Mira’s records if he wanted to find her room. “You both better stay away from the kitchens and from that girl,” he said, now keeping his stone-cold gaze on Niragi. “Is that clear?”

Both men nodded.

Without another word, Aguni left the roof.

»«»«»«

It was surprisingly hard for him to find your room.

Mira had immediately denied any access to her records, claiming invasion of privacy. Which it was; he would probably do the same thing if he was in her place. But he pressed on, and she eventually gave in, simply saying that you lived in the south wing of the Hotel, somewhere on the second level. He accepted the information and forced himself to ask around for you, as inconspicuously as he could. Surprisingly, practically no one recognized the description he gave of you, and no one knew your name. He was almost giving up when finally...

“Oh, Y/N?” a couple of young women said. “Yeah, she lives next door to us, room 237.”

He finally had your room number.

Aguni spent five minutes gathering the necessary courage to knock on your door, hesitating and almost leaving every time he lifted his knuckles against the door. He made a frustrated sound, annoyed with himself.

“You’re an idiot,” he mumbled under his breath.

“Hello?” someone greeted behind him. Aguni froze before looking over his shoulder. There you were. Dressed in shorts and a light jacket, hair in a braid over your shoulder, and a hesitant smile on your face, you looked pretty in his eyes. It really made him wonder if Takeru was right; he did have a crush on someone. “Hmm, is everything okay?”

“Yeah, uh- hey.” He cleared his throat as he realized he had been staring. He could feel his face getting warm. “Hm, how’re doing?” he asked, before grimacing. Ah yes, Morizono, very nice. You raised a brow as you looked at him for a moment.

“I’m... fine,” you answered with a hesitant smile. “Were you waiting for me?”

“Yes, I- I wanted to apologize,” he cringed at his stuttering. But there it was. Direct and clear. The fastest he could get himself out of this awkward conversation, the better. “I heard about what happened this morning with two of my militants, and I just want you to know that they won’t bother you again.”

“Oh, that was just a misunderstanding!" you say as you shake your head. "I was just talking with Mrs. Yamamoto about that. Nothing happened."

"That was not what I heard."

"No, no, I'm fine, they didn't do anything to me," you reassured him. "Niragi just… said some mean things, but Last Boss stopped him. Mrs. Yamamoto thought they were hurting me and I'm really sorry." You shrugged and gave him an awkward smile. "I just cry sometimes. I even went to talk with Last Boss about it, but I think Mrs. Yamamoto really scared him, 'cause he keeps avoiding me." You said with an awkward chuckle. "But I'm okay, really."

Aguni grunted with a nod, convinced that you were telling him the truth. Still, he wanted those two, Niragi in particular, as far from you as he could.

"If they mess with you again, let me know, all right?" You nodded at his request, and he almost had the urge to smile back at you. "Okay then," he said with a nod before making a move to leave.

"Hmm, did you enjoy today's pastry?" he heard you ask in a hesitant tone. He turned around, confused. There was no pastry waiting for him today. He said so to you, and your brows furrowed. "Uh, no, I'm pretty sure I left you something. Strawberry pie with a chocolate crust?"

"There was nothing when I got there," he said. There were butterflies in his stomach, though. You hadn't stopped baking stuff for him, after all.

"That's odd…" you said as you bit your lip, wondering what could've happened. "Well," you shrugged, "I'll make sure you get it tomorrow morning, then."

He nodded without a word and watched as you smiled at him before moving to open your door.

"How's your arm?" he blurted out before he could stop himself. You froze by the door for a moment before showing him your arm, skin looking much better than it was just a week prior.

"That aloe mix you gave me helped a lot. Thanks, again," you said with another one of those smiles that made him want to smile back.

"You know…" he hesitated for a moment before taking a deep breath and saying what he meant to say, eyes on your feet, "If you ever want to, you can show up by the greenhouse, sometimes. There are these new seeds I got that might interest you. I don't know, but the offer stands."

He shrugged, like what he just said meant nothing. He finally focused on your face, and his stomach did somersaults as he found you grinning at him.

"I would like that very much."

»«»«»«

You were there the next morning.

And the next. And the next. And the other one after that. Always with a smile on your face, always carrying a new sweet that you would both share.

The first days were as awkward as you could imagine. He almost feared looking you in the eyes, feeling like a teenager again with all the blushing and weird sensations in the pit of his stomach. All he needed was a smile from you to look as red as one of his tomatoes.

At first, you would eat in silence, until you eventually broke it by mentioning something about plants, or what flowers you were expecting to bring the next time you went scavenging. Then it would be just you doing most of the talk as he stuffed his mouth with whatever deliciousness you had brought him that day, nodding, and grunting on occasion. He realized he liked hearing you speak. Hearing your voice.

Then he would start working on whatever he had planned the morning before, and that's when you would watch him as he went around his garden showing you things. You would give him ideas from time to time, always following him as you attentively listened to his words. He realized he liked the attention. Your attention.

It didn't take long until you were more comfortable around each other. Then you would both talk freely, almost always about plants. He would be lying if he said he wasn't curious to know more about you, but he didn't have the courage to ask.

"What did you do... before?" you asked one day, about a week into your morning rendezvous. You were sharing a quiche today, and he took his time chewing before answering.

"Was part of the SDF," he said. You nodded like it made sense that a man like him had a job like that. "Nothing too interesting, though,” he said with a shrug. “You?"

"Worked at my family's bakery," you said, a small smile on your face as you seemed to think back to those times. "My grandma taught me everything I know. She made the best quiche in Tokyo, you know? Mine has nothing on hers."

He couldn't control his chuckle then, nor he meant to say the words that got out of his mouth next.

"Takeru would love to hear that."

"Who?" you asked, brow raised as you chewed a piece of the salty pastry. There were flakes of crust on the corner of your mouth, and he had to control the urge to wipe them away with his thumb. He shook his head instead.

"Just a friend from… from back home," he said. "The man can't cook to save his life but bakes one hell of a quiche. Yours is better, though."

You smiled at the compliment and proceeded to eat in silence. He didn't want to waste the chance to get to know you more, though.

"What do you do all day?" he asked. You raised a brow, and he specified what he meant, "I mean, I barely see you around and no one seems to know you, so…"

"Oh, I just stay in my room all day," you said as you shrugged and let out an awkward chuckle. "I'm not really a people person and I spend most of my nights awake, so I mostly just sleep."

"What do you do when you're awake, then?"

"I go to the games, I bake and, well, now I spend some time here with you." He could swear his heart beat a little faster at your words. He felt strangely honored that you decided to spend time with him.

"Yeah, I'm not much of a people person myself," he said. "Plants are much better, aren't they?" He tried to send you a small smile but immediately regretted it as it felt more like a grimace. You smiled back at him, though, so it probably wasn't as bad as he thought it was.

"Hmm, you're right, but I don't mind some people."

He didn't know what to make of your statement.

»«»«»«

A month passed when you met every morning.

Your joined morning routine had taken a comfortable rhythm for both of you, where you ate, talked, and worked without that awkward vibe of the first few days. With you joining him in the work, his crops flourished. It was the best part of his day, without a doubt.

He realized several things during that time.

The first was that you liked to sing while you worked. Didn't matter if you were planting potatoes, watering the flowers, or preparing herbal remedies – that you had eventually convinced him to be useful – you were always humming a tune under your breath, or singing the words aloud.

The second thing he realized was that he liked it.

He liked to hear you sing so much that the songs would stay in his head for the rest of the day, and he would wake up with your voice still echoing in his head. He had even caught himself whistling at times. Once during a council meeting, where he had zoned out again and was completely oblivious to the fact that he had been humming 'I Want to Break Free’ by Queen until Takeru snapped his attention and everyone was looking at him like he had grown two heads. All except his best friend, that had a knowing smirk on his lips.

The third thing he realized – and, to his shock, didn't surprise him – was that he had totally developed a crush on you.

"So, am I ever going to meet them or what?" Takeru asked over his glass of golden whiskey, taking a sip when Aguni took too long to answer. "You can't keep them a secret from me forever."

"I don't know what you're talking about," was all Aguni said as he took a gulp of his own drink, avoiding his friend's eyes and looking at the moon up high in the sky. His friend really had the best view for late-night drinking, especially after a stressful game.

"Fine, don't tell me," Takeru shrugged like he didn't care, but Aguni could tell he one hundred percent did. What was he supposed to tell him? There was no relationship for him to talk about.

"Okay, listen…" his friend's eyes shined as he focused all his attention on him, making Aguni want to hide from his scrutiny. He took a deep breath before saying, "There's nothing to talk about. There's no relationship."

"Ahh, but you're in love, aren't you?" Takeru let out an excited laugh, and Aguni could feel the corners of his mouth pulling up. "In all the years we've been friends I saw you like what? Three people? And you never behaved like this." He drank whatever was left of the drink in his glass before filling it up again. "This one sure looks promising." There was a pause where they just drank in silence before he asked again "So, what's her name? It’s a she, isn't it?"

"Y/N," Aguni mumbled, loud enough for him to hear. Takeru's eyes widen comically at the name.

"The pie girl?!" he asked in a raised tone. "You're head over heels for the pie girl?" He laughed then, and Aguni furrowed his brows in annoyance.

"You know her?"

"Yeah, I mean, old Yamamoto wouldn't tell me who the miracle baker was, so I went to see for myself. She's cute," he let out a mean chuckle, "I knew you were getting thicker around the waist. She's feeding you well, I see."

"Yeah." Aguni gave him a full-on smirk as he said the next words, "She makes the best quiche I've ever eaten."

The shocked and offended gasp that left Takeru's mouth almost made him laugh.

"You take that back!" the man punched his arm once and drank the remaining of his whiskey in one single gulp. "You just ruined my night. Get out and think about what you just said. I'll be expecting an apology by morning."

Aguni laughed then, the only kind of laugh that he could only make when he was around his best friend.

"Yours is good," he shrugged, still laughing. "But hers is better."

»«»«»«

->Next Chapter

#alice in borderland #alice in borderland fanfic #ima wa no kuni no alice #aguni morizono #aguni x reader #aguni fanfiction #aguni imagine #aib fanfic

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lesdemonium · 3 years

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Error Pining

Rating: T Ship: Geraskier Word Count: 2750 Summary: When his djinn wish goes wrong, Jaskier finds himself unable to speak without excruciating pain. Geralt tries to fill the space himself. AN: a gift exchange fic written for @smuggsy for @thewitchersecretsanta. thanks so much for giving me an excuse to write physical whump for jaskier!

read on ao3 Before their argument, Geralt had been hazy, unfocused, and in dire need of sleep. He was still in dire need of rest, but now every sense was on high alert. The smell of blood and pain was so sharp, so strong, it left a metallic taste in his mouth and he just barely resisted the urge to try to clear his tongue of it. His eyes went wide, wild, as he tried to find the source of the blood. In a distant sort of way, he registered that he had been cut in their scuffle, but it wasn’t his blood he smelled. It was Jaskier’s.

Jaskier was doubled over, clutching at his neck, the djinn bottle long forgotten on the ground. His eyes met Geralt’s and he opened his mouth to speak, but no sound came out before he was blinking away tears and dry heaving onto the ground. The hand around his throat was so tight Geralt wondered at how he could breathe, had a wild thought that maybe it was Jaskier’s own hand that was causing his scent to spike in pain and fear.

“Jaskier, what’s happened?” Geralt asked, bending over and hauling Jaskier back up by the collar of his doublet. Jaskier went, and when he tried to speak again, only a weak whimper came out before his face contorted in pain. His hands scrabbled at his throat and his eyes were so wide Geralt felt like all he could see was white, white, white.

“We’ll fix this, whatever it is,” Geralt promised him. Jaskier nodded weakly back.

They made it to the elf, Chireadan, who was less help than Geralt was hoping for. He asked Jaskier questions, and every time Jaskier attempted to answer, the same bitter taste of blood and pain and fear settled heavily within Geralt. The third time it happened, Geralt nearly punched Chireadan. Couldn’t he see this was hurting Jaskier?

“He can’t talk,” Chireadan finally settled on, and the look Geralt gave him must have been murderous, because he took a step back when their eyes met. “I can’t tell you more than that. Its origin is magical, and I have nothing that can reverse it. Something is ripping apart his throat whenever he talks.”

Jaskier let out a muffled hum, a desperate sound, that soon choked out and was replaced with the heavy scent of blood.

“Sounds like not only when he talks,” Geralt said, and Chireadan’s grimace seemed to agree.

They were sent to a witch, Yennefer, but she wasn’t much help, either. She tried through the night, with Jaskier in a deep sleep, but when he awoke, nothing had changed.

“I can’t do anything until you open your mouth to speak, bard,” Yennefer told them, and to her credit, she did look at least a bit remorseful. Or perhaps simply annoyed her magic couldn’t solve it. “Since I highly doubt you want to be singing as I fix you, there’s not much I can do for you.”

“Then how do we fix this?” Geralt asked, his voice tight.

Yennefer smiled and patted Jaskier’s hand condescendingly. “Have you considered a vocational change?”

They left, Jaskier silent and mourning beside Geralt. Yennefer’s advice was to track down another djinn, as Jaskier was unable to make the wish himself. Geralt thought this was a fool’s errand, and that Vesemir would be more help.

“I’m sorry, Jaskier,” Geralt said as they laid down to sleep that night.

Jaskier’s response was to turn over and go to sleep.

Traveling with a silent Jaskier was difficult for both of them. Every time Geralt looked at Jaskier, he seemed dimmer. At first, he still played his lute, but as they continued to travel and Jaskier’s throat continued to rip itself apart whenever he made even the softest hum, even that seemed to lose appeal to the bard. In taverns, Jaskier stared down at his mug, surviving the evening until he could turn in.

Geralt found he missed the sound. The silence beside him was uncomfortable, and made Geralt feel hollow. This felt as if it was his fault, as if he was the one hurting Jaskier whenever he made a sound. If he hadn’t been looking for the Djinn in the first place, Jaskier’s wish wouldn’t have backfired, and now Geralt wouldn’t have become acquainted with Jaskier’s forlorn face.

It took three days for Geralt to start talking, instead.

“Did I ever tell you about the griffin I fought outside Carrera?” Geralt said, offhand, as they traveled one day.

He chanced a glance at Jaskier, only to find the bard staring back at him, a curious expression on Jaskier’s face. Jaskier’s lips were pressed tightly together, as if he was trying to remind himself not to speak up, and he squinted at Geralt. He looked almost suspicious. Geralt didn’t blame him. It wasn’t often that Geralt offered up his stories without a request, but Jaskier deserved something, and Geralt couldn't take the silence anymore.

So he told the tale, sparing no detail. At some point, Jaskier took out a notebook, and furiously scribbled the tale down. Often, Geralt had to stop, think about what sort of questions Jaskier would normally ask him, and try to answer them on his own. By the end of his tale, Jaskier was smiling. Despite his discomfort, Geralt smiled back. The remainder of the day was easier to bear.

As they traveled, Geralt told Jaskier of his contracts, as many as he could think of that Jaskier hadn’t already been there for. When he couldn’t think of a new story, he explained to Jaskier the difference between the vampire types, or the exact effects Swallow had on him. He felt silly, like he was play-acting as a professor, but it made the time go by faster. It also made Jaskier lighter, brighter, and eased something inside Geralt.

At night, when they were safely at camp, Jaskier began to play his lute again. Initially, they were the same songs Geralt had heard before. Jaskier’s songs, famous ballads written by other bards, lively drinking songs. As their travel wore on, though, Geralt began to hear songs he had never heard before. Soft, mournful things. Jaskier never met Geralt’s eye when he played these songs, but he did sit close to Geralt, so close that sometimes their arms would brush as Jaskier shifted up and down his lute. Geralt liked these songs best. He hoped, one day, he would get to hear Jaskier sing them.

These nights made Geralt brave.

“I ran into Eskel here, once,” he said. Jaskier didn’t stop playing, but he did look up, his eyes wide, his face open. “I don’t cross paths with the other witchers as much as I would like. You would like Eskel. He plays nice far better than I could. Doesn’t need a bard around to keep him in line around nobles.”

Jaskier bumped Geralt’s shoulder and they shared a grin. Geralt turned his gaze back to the fire and took a deep breath, but a moment later Jaskier nudged him again, this time with his knee.

“Yes, okay,” Geralt said, nodding. “I’ll go on. We were in the trials together. He’s the closest thing I’ve ever had to family.” Until now, his mind helpfully supplied. Geralt cleared his throat, as if to smother the thought. “You really would like him. He’s… thoughtful. Polite. Keeps his temper better. A better witcher, too. He’d make a better subject for your songs.”

Jaskier stopped playing abruptly. He placed his lute gingerly back in its case, then leaned into Geralt’s side. His arm snaked around Geralt’s, intertwining them before he fit their fingers together. Like they belonged there. Like their hands had always been meant to hold each other.

When Geralt looked up, his mouth felt dry. Jaskier’s eyes were so big, so beautiful, and he felt like he could see everything Jaskier couldn’t say in them. Geralt swallowed, heavily, and tried to speak for them himself.

“I’m.” He paused, wet his lips, tried again. “I’m glad you’re here. You make it easier. I feel less… alone.”

Geralt looked away, now. Back at the fire. Jaskier didn’t nudge him back this time, and didn't try to get his attention. Instead, he hesitated only a second--Geralt could feel the way he started, then stopped, then started again--and rested his head on Geralt’s shoulder. They stayed like that until Jaskier’s yawns could no longer be ignored, and they had to turn in for the night.

Geralt missed Jaskier’s voice most in the morning.

It was no secret that Jaskier was terrible when he first woke up. Grouchy, whiny, wheedling every which way. He hated mornings and he hated getting up early and would always be dead to the world for the first hour or so that he was awake.

Despite this, he always wished Geralt a good morning, even if it was gruff and his smile was more of a grimace. As he started to wake up, he’d often tell Geralt about his more ridiculous dreams. Often, Geralt was sure he had fabricated them entirely, just to make Geralt roll his eyes.

Now, Jaskier always woke up in pain. He’d groan first thing in the morning, or whine, or make some other sort of noise, and immediately his entire body would seize up in pain. Geralt had gotten softer in his approach to waking Jaskier up, trying to ease him into consciousness, to avoid the pain. It worked sometimes, but Jaskier was still too hazy upon first waking to remember why he couldn’t make noise. Then his eyes would fill with unshed tears as he desperately held out his hand for the waterskin. It didn’t seem to help, but at least it was an action Jaskier could take.

They survived. Hearing Jaskier’s silence never got easier, still left Geralt feeling hollow, but it became easier to fill the silences himself. Jaskier got better at expressing himself through the way he touched Geralt. Geralt had a feeling that had never been a skill Jaskier lacked, per se, but that he had only recently been allowed to touch Geralt. Now, he was taking his fill.

Geralt wondered how much time he had lost without Jaskier’s easy affection.

To get Geralt’s attention, Jaskier would grab his knee as Geralt road Roach, or press a hand between Geralt’s shoulder blades. He fingered Geralt’s sleeve nervously when they were in taverns and he had nothing to do with his hands. He would take Geralt’s hand as they walked through a crowd so they didn’t lose each other.

Geralt’s favorite touches, though, were still in front of their campfire. The trees around them, the stars in the night sky, the light of the fire and the way it crackled, all of it was beautiful, but it was nothing compared to the way Jaskier leaned against Geralt. Jaskier pressed himself into Geralt’s side, often allowing Geralt to wrap his arm around Jaskier’s shoulder or waist. Jaskier would play his lute, would play his soft, lovely songs, that had grown more hopeful as time went on. Geralt would tell Jaskier stories about growing up, about trouble he, Lambert, Eskel, the other wolves, had gotten into. He told Jaskier about the trials and let Jaskier comb his fingers through Geralt’s hair to comfort him, though Geralt insisted he didn’t need comforting. He told Jaskier about Renfri, about Blaviken, about his mother. Geralt told Jaskier everything.

Everything except about the way his heart hammered in his chest as Jaskier looked at him. Everything except how he sometimes dreamed of Jaskier’s voice, and woke up with a longing he couldn’t put to words. Everything except how he wanted, more than anything, to kiss Jaskier, but couldn’t be sure what Jaskier wanted.

“Can I… be honest with you?” Geralt asked one night.

Jaskier turned to him just enough to roll his eyes at Geralt. As if Jaskier could stop him, the look seemed to say. Jaskier turned back to his lute, but his playing got softer, as if he was trying to give Geralt the space to speak.

“Right,” Geralt said. He paused, took a deep breath, rubbed the hem of Jaskier’s shirt between his fingers. “I don’t. I don’t know if Vesemir can help.”

Jaskier stopped playing and stiffened somewhat. But he didn’t turn around, didn’t put his lute down. Only stopped and waited.

Geralt swallowed thickly. “I hope he can. I think he’s our best bet. But, short of finding another djinn for me to make a wish… I don’t know how fixable this is. Unless we went back to Yennefer and had her heal you while you sing--” Jaskier let out a shiver and the stench of fear overwhelmed Geralt. “I know. It’s not good. But I don’t know how else to fix you if Vesemir has no ideas.”

Jaskier took a deep breath. He remained stiff against Geralt, but now he started playing again. His song was sad, mournful again, and Geralt’s heart ached with it. He wished, more than anything, that he could fix this.

“I’m not giving up,” Geralt whispered, some time later. “We’ll find something else to try. We’ll fix this eventually.”

The sound Jaskier made wasn’t quite a scoff. It was more a sharp exhalation, dismissive and--maybe Geralt was reaching here--a bit wounded. Geralt lifted his hand, hesitated a moment, then ran his fingers through Jaskier’s hair. Jaskier leaned back into the motion, until his head fell back on Geralt’s shoulder.

“I mean it, Jask,” he said. His mouth felt dry again. “I miss your voice. I miss the lyrics that would go with your songs, even the ridiculous ones. I miss your jokes, your incessant complaining, the way you flirt with everyone and sometimes wink at me as you do it.”

Jaskier pulled away, and Geralt froze. Apparently, he had overstepped somewhere. He forced himself to look at Jaskier, but instead of discomfort or disgust, he found shock. Awe. Jaskier put his lute away, his fingers lingering on the clasps of his case, then he returned to Geralt’s side. After another moment of hesitation, Jaskier shifted, climbing over Geralt’s lap. Jaskier cradled Geralt’s face with feather-light touches as he leaned in, pressed their foreheads together.

“Jaskier, I--” Geralt started.

Geralt trailed off, then wrapped his arms around Jaskier’s waist. He didn’t know how to accept this from Jaskier verbally, he didn’t know what to say, but he could hold him. Jaskier let out a relieved breath, and Geralt felt the gust of air against his lips. Geralt touched his fingers to the corner of Jaskier’s mouth. Jaskier pressed a hand to Geralt’s heart.

“You’re so much better at words than I am. I wish--” He trailed off again, thumbed along Jaskier’s cheekbone, held the back of his head. “You can’t tell me what you want.”

Jaskier’s breath sounded almost like a laugh, just before he leaned in to touch their lips together. The kiss was short, simply a way to test the waters. Jaskier pulled away, only for Geralt to drag him back in for more. Jaskier sighed into Geralt’s mouth and Geralt swallowed the sound, wished desperately he could hear more, wanted to see what all he could pull from Jaskier’s throat.

It was this thought that had Geralt pulling away. Jaskier’s eyes looked hazy, his smile dopey and big, as he stroked the side of Geralt’s face and his hair. He looked the happiest Geralt had seen him in months, since before the djinn had taken away his voice. Geralt kissed him again. And again. And again. Jaskier accepted every time.

“I wish you could talk. I want to hear your voice,” Geralt whispered into Jaskier’s mouth.

Jaskier whined a little, then reared back, just as Geralt flinched away, his arm suddenly burning. Jaskier’s hands flew to his throat and Geralt ripped back his sleeve to see a second mark, just beside the long-forgotten injury he had gotten when they squabbled over the amphora. Geralt’s eyebrows furrowed as he considered the mark, wondered after what in the world caused it, only for his focus to be dragged away by Jaskier.

“Geralt,” Jaskier said, and his face broke out into the most brilliant grin. “What--I can talk again. It doesn’t hurt at all!”

Jaskier was still laughing as he dragged Geralt in for another kiss, which Geralt readily accepted. This time, he didn’t hold back any of his sounds. Each one was more beautiful than the last.

#geraskier #geralt x jaskier #jaskier x geralt #geraskier fanfic #geraskier fanfiction #my writing #not me taking lyrics from my favorite christmas song #despite this not at all being a christmas fic #no sir #anyway i gotta tell you sitting on a fic for a month was WILD #hope you enjoy it!!!

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mourntheantagonist · 3 years

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#HarringroveApril Day 16: Nostalgia

***

When Billy signed those discharge papers, piled into his dented Camaro and headed west towards the sunset despite the screaming redhead banging on the windows crying “please don’t go!”, with an aching chest both metaphorical and physical, he didn’t think for a second about looking back.

So how he ended up back in the same shithole he turned his back on ten years ago was entirely beyond him.

He had made a life for himself in California. He got his associates degree at the local community college and worked his way up from a nine to five teller position at the local bank all the way to branch manager, making an upper middle class salary. It was easy work. Boring work, unfulfilling work, but easy and worth every penny. He had a couple of friends, mostly coworkers, more so acquaintances than friends. He had a fancy apartment in the city, he went on dates, though they usually ended in one night stands where the other guy snuck out in the dark hours of the morning leaving Billy to sleep in a bed that was just too big for one person. But he was free from all of those forces in his life that always held him back and pinned him down, and each and every one of those forces just reeked of small town America.

He hadn’t heard a peep out of Hawkins since Max had given up on calling around eight years ago, or at least he hoped that she’d given up and something worse hadn’t happened to her. He regretted not answering those calls everyday. The guilt of leaving her behind like that weighed heavy like an anchor, but he did it anyway. Bad decision after bad decision he was surprised he made it to where he had today, and he just wished she’d call again.

But he also wasn’t sure enough of himself that anything would change if she did, and that phone would likely remain on the hook until the ringing stopped and she was left to the sound of his voicemail.

“You’ve reached Billy Hargrove. Leave a message.”

He wasn’t home the day she finally did call, which fortunately took that decision away from him. Her message was tossed in with a mix of telemarketers and employees calling in for days off, it could have easily been dismissed, passed over like every other piece of junk in the system if her voice hadn’t been exactly the same as it was the day he left her.

“Hey Billy, it’s Max. I know you probably don’t give a shit, but Neil died of a heart attack last night…” Billy stopped listening after the words ‘Neil died’ came over the speaker. He had to replay the message to hear the rest because by the time he’d gathered himself it had already ended. “...the funeral is next Saturday in Hawkins. Nobody expects you to come but I thought you should know anyway and that everyone would still like to see you. Call me back at…” Billy wrote the number on the back of a blockbuster receipt and set it flat on the counter quickly with a firm hand and a quick retraction, like it might burn him. Max’s name and a ten digit number below it in a blue ballpoint pen stared back at him and he just drummed his fingers on the counter and bit his lip trying to think everything over.

He looked at it for probably another thirty minutes while the rest of the voicemails cycled through in the background before he decided to make a call of his own. Slowly and shaking, he dialed the phone number and tried to even out his breathing while he waited for the sound of the pick up. He was partially hoping that it never came.

But it did. The click sound was followed by a voice that didn’t belong to Max, but one he still recognized.

“Hello?”

Billy took in a deep breath. “Hi. This is Billy.”

“Wow, I’m surprised you actually called.”

Billy huffed and if it had been ten years earlier he would have already hung up the phone by now.

“Who is this?”

“Lucas Sinclair. I take it you want to talk to Max?”

Billy tensed at the mention of her name, as if that hadn’t been the whole plan in the first place. “Yeah,” he said, a little bit of shakiness to his voice, “could you put her on?”

After a few short moments of silence and a little bit of movement in the background, he heard her.

“Hey Billy.” she sounded… glad… and it made Billy let out a heavy sigh of relief.

“Hey Maxine.”

“It’s Max.” There was that tone, she hadn’t changed at all.

“Yeah, I know.” There was a pause, Billy twirled the phone cord around this index finger to the point it started going pink and then purple while he tried to get the question to leave the tip of his tongue. “So, he’s really dead?” he asked, blunt as ever.

“Yeah. I don’t expect you to want to come for the funeral, but I just thought you should know, and if you need a place to stay you can– hold on one second” Billy could hear muffled bickering and Max yelling ‘Lucas Sinclair’ through clenched teeth and it brought a smile to his face. It reminded him of all those times he’d eavesdrop on her phone calls with him just to piss her off, just to hear her yell at him through their shared wall before she’d chase him around the house. Those were good days. “As I was saying. You can stay here if you need. We have a spare room.”

“Thanks for the offer.”

“I really hope you decide to come.”

“We’ll see.” He was just about to hang the phone back up, but he stopped himself, “Hey Max?”

“Yeah.”

“It’s nice hearing the sound of your voice again.”

Billy wound up taking the week off and driving that same old Camaro, restored back to its former glory, that did the distance twice before, back over to Indiana, to the place he said he’d never go back to, and he really couldn’t figure out the reason why he didn’t just go into work. There was nothing to drive him to go but the weird feeling in his gut that refused to go away until he called in, and a little bit of that pressure was released.

For each freeway exit he came across on the over thousand mile journey he contemplated turning around, getting back on that on-ramp going the other direction and save himself from whatever hell he’d be walking into.

Because that’s what Hawkins was to him. Hell. There were monsters like his father, and then there were real, legitimate monsters as well and Billy wasn’t safe from either of them, well he was safe from one now. He couldn’t imagine why Max decided to stay in the shithole and not get out like he did.

Maybe that’s what makes him the coward.

The welcome to Hawkins sign gave him chills. He remembered seeing that for the first time, following behind the rickety Uhaul pulled by their beat up truck when Billy decided not to follow them into their next turn, and instead got lost on the “scenic route” of Hawkins which really meant “trees, trees, and more trees” when he hit the Quarry’s dead end and nearly went off the cliff into the water below.

At the time he might’ve thought it would have been better if he had.

A lot of things had looked to have changed about the town since the last time he saw it. Places that he remembered being nothing but vast forests now had neighborhoods and restaurant chains and the place that once had a natural canopy was now completely deforested and exposed to the sun.

But the Quarry was exactly the same as he left it.

From the beer cans crushed and scattered, to the sounds of gravel pieces bouncing up and chipping the paint on his car.

The continuities continued to add up when he stepped foot out of the car, pulling on that same old denim jacket he hadn’t worn in years after trading it in for a suit and tie. His boot hit the gravel path just like it always had, with that same stomp that demanded attention, like each time he got out of that car he had to play into the dramatics, put on the mask and play the part he chose for himself. The breeze and the smell, it was all the same as before, as if the industrialization just several blocks north hadn’t had any effects on this little corner of the town where the birds still sang their songs in harmony and the smell of nature was pungent. It felt like no time had passed at all.

But it had been the sound of a rumbling BMW rolling down the crushing gravel that made him feel exactly like he was back in highschool again, the same rotten kid who used fists as forms for problem solving, the kid who as an adult had worked on his impulsivity, standing there, staring up the gentle slope with his fists clenched so tight his fingernails left marks on his palms. All that work, all that progress he thought he’d gone through, thrown straight out the window at just the mere sight of something from his past.

The BMW pulled up beside him, and the quarry apparently wasn’t the only thing that hadn’t changed. Steve still had the same big swooped back hair and that same exact look on his face when they made eye contact through the passenger window, the same exact look he had the day he told him he was leaving, and screamed at him to get out of his hospital room.

That was the last time they spoke.

Steve got out of the car without a word and just leaned against the door, looking him up and down, and Billy didn’t feel like he had any right to say the first word, considering he’d had the last one.

“It’s good to see you Billy.” Steve broke the silence, and it was almost startling, with both the sudden change of volume, and the sound of that voice he’d almost forgotten singing in his head like a song he didn’t remember learning the lyrics to.

“Is it?” Because it felt like it was all just a formality coming out of his mouth.

He wasn’t expecting an answer to that, so he shouldn’t have been surprised when Steve changed the subject. It was oddly refreshing seeing Steve write the script this time, steering the conversation his way.

“Looks like we both kept our old wheels,” he said, slapping the top of his car twice, maybe a little too hard. The sound of a hand against metal echoed through the trees. “though there’s not as many dents from what I remember.”

“I had it restored.”

The majority of Steve’s body was hidden behind the car that separated the two of them, but he could see in the way that his shoulders moved that his hands had found his own hips, doing that same stance of a mother who just caught their kid in the act of something naughty. “Some good memories happened in that car.”

“Some bad ones too. Or do I need to remind you how the dents got there in the first place?” Billy crossed his arms over his chest, as if the thousand pound chunk of metal that served as a barrier wasn’t enough to protect him. Because it felt like Steve could see directly through him with the way his head tilted when Billy threw his words back at him. Because they both knew that it was horseshit. Memories of whatever happened between Steve and the Camaro existed only in the dents that remained and the neck pain that still lingered. He didn’t actually hold any grudge about that, and he never did.

Because Steve was right. There had been good memories in that car, some he didn’t remember until seeing him again, some that still played in his mind when he went to sleep at night. Maybe that was the reason he kept it around for so long, that one piece that contained all of those few good times, all of those times with Steve.

“You were always so good at that.”

“What?”

“Deflecting. Pushing people away.”

Billy opened his mouth to defend himself, but there was nothing that came out but his own breath, but Steve filled that silence anyway before Billy would have even had the opportunity to speak.

“You cut your hair.”

It was like he was being interrogated.

“Company policy, they practically had to strap me down and take the clippers to my head themselves.”

Steve actually laughed, and it seemed genuine at least. Billy pulled out the pack of red that he always kept on the seat like it was muscle memory. His hands would only ever stop shaking when he had that little stick between his fingers, and they were only shaking more since Steve got out of that car.

“You still smoke?”

Billy put the cigarette in between his lips and lit up, pausing for a nice drag before bothering to answer Steve. Just letting his eyes fall shut and experience just a short moment of relaxation.

“Some old habits never die”

Steve pursed his lips. Every single one of his mannerisms were exactly the same. This one meant that he wanted to say something that he didn’t know if he should.

“Was I just an old habit too?”

“Steve–”

Steve just kicked the side of his car with his knee, sure to leave a dent of his own. The sound was loud enough that the consistent stream of chirping birds transformed into a cascade of flapping wings as the birds on the trees flew away from the scene. He walked around to the front of his car and the physical object that once created separation was gone, and suddenly Steve was within reach and he couldn’t breathe.

“Glad to know it’s harder to quit nicotine than it was to quit me!”

Billy chucked his lit cigarette at the ground and scuffed it with his heel into the gravel. “Who told you it was easy?!” He had a finger pointed to Steve and had closed their distance a few feet more, less than an arms length apart from each other.

“You left!”

“Because I had to! You know I did!”

“You didn’t have to leave me!” Steve practically screamed that final word, his face was now just inches away from Billy’s and he was nearly foaming at the mouth and from an outsider's perspective, Steve looked about two seconds from either kissing him, or killing him.

He did neither. He took a step back and recollected himself with a dramatic clearing of his throat. “You didn’t even ask me to come with you.”

“And you don’t think I regret that every fucking day of my life?” Billy’s voice broke, trembling throughout the sentence like he was containing a ticking time bomb. “Why are you even here?”

Steve just rolled his eyes at the steer. “Max sent me.”

“Of course she fucking did.”

“She cares about you y’know.” Billy scoffed, because how could she? After all he did to her? He could still hear those palms banging against those windows and her muffled screams for her to stay every time he got into that car. “Why are you here?”

“Did she not tell you the part where my dad died?”

“I know damn well you didn’t come all this way to pay your respects.”

Billy let himself drop to the ground and sit on the rough terrain with his back against his tire, unable to continue standing, his legs were ready to betray him.

“I have no idea why I’m here, okay? I just am.”

Steve nodded his head, and he didn’t say anything, no quip back in his face, he just followed Billy to the ground.

“Are you upset he’s gone?”

Billy let out a groan and tried to rub the growing migraine from his temples.

“I’m feeling a lot of things, but I don’t think ‘upset’ is one of them.” Neither of them said anything after that. They just sat there on the ground and enjoyed the silence together like they used to do. Looking up at the clouds and arguing over what shape they were. There’d be none of that today though, and it had nothing to do with the overcast skies. “You still keep a six pack in your trunk?”

Steve laughed and got up from where he was seated and popped the trunk. He was right. Some old habits never fucking die.

Steve tossed a can over to Billy and sat back down on the gravel, maybe a little closer than he had been before. Billy took a long swig and swallowed the bitter taste down. He hadn’t drank much since he was a teenager, he traded in his Coors for Cola and he doesn’t understand how he used to enjoy the taste of it before.

“Why did you stay in Hawkins?”

Steve dug his heel and pushed a pile of rocks forward, kicking a plume of dust into the air.

“Nobody ever gave me a reason to leave.”

Billy wanted to ask if he would have even come with him had he asked him to. But he opted against it, instead just taking another drink from the can and a genuine “I’m sorry.” passed his lips.

“You know I followed you?”

“What?”

“Yup. Made it all the way to St. Louis before I turned around.”

Billy was just staring at him at this point, unsure if he’d just heard him right. He just sat there with his mouth agape, catching flies and waiting for Steve to say more.

“I knew that you needed to go. I knew that you were hurting and it took me almost ten hours on the open road to realize that you needed time to heal.” Steve’s eyes looked glossy and his cheeks flushed but he kept his smile on. “So I came back home, and I waited here for you to come back. I wanted to make myself easy to find when you needed me.”

“You waited for me?”

Steve inched his hand over to where Billy’s was propping himself up and let his fingers gently trace the back of his hand. Steve’s touch was everything. It made his heart start racing and his palms start sweating and it felt just like 1985 all over again.

Billy took Steve’s hand in his own and entwined their fingers together and Billy let out a long exhale as they did.

“Billy,” Steve said softly, scooting his body just a little bit closer, less than a foot of separation now between the two of them, and he looked Billy in the eyes. Billy had almost gotten entirely lost in those pools of deep brown before Steve had the chance to speak again. But he heard it, loud and clear. “I’m still waiting for you.”

He waited.

Waited ten fucking years.

Billy wasn’t going to make him sit there and wait for a kiss too.

Billy closed the distance at the moment the penny dropped, sinking all of his weight into the kiss in a frantic and uneven pace just like they were eighteen again trying to squeeze both of their bodies into the backseat of the Camaro, refusing for even a second to separate themselves from the one point of contact that sealed them together like glue. The kiss felt just like their first. In the same spot, instead under the stars and the two of them both drunk off their asses, and that time Billy tasted of only blood and liquor.

But it was that same feeling. That desire to never pull away, that fear that it would end and that it would be the last time. He had that fear with everyone of Steve and his kisses, that each one might just be their last.

So he made a point to savor all of them.

They kissed until they physically couldn’t anymore. Out of breath with swollen lips and an inability stop the smiles that peeked through every couple of seconds. They sat there with their foreheads touching and their clasped hands still intact, relishing in the heat that was each other’s breath on their faces. Billy was crying, just streams of tears paired with a smile that Steve gently wiped away with his thumb, the brush of contact making him shiver.

“I missed you so fucking much.”

Steve cradled Billy’s head in his hands and peppered a few short kisses to his lips.

“I missed you too.”

“You think this is why Max invited me here?” Billy asked. “I can’t imagine she’d actually think I would want to come to this thing.”

Steve laughed. “No. She’s not an idiot. She figured you’d want to crash the funeral.”

Billy immediately got up from his place on the ground and held his other hand out for Steve to grab onto. “Well you wanna join me while I go piss on my old man’s grave?”

Steve took his hand without hesitation and let Billy pull him up off the ground.

“It would be my honor.”

Hawkins made a lot of bad memories for Billy, most of which he locked somewhere far away, but the good still remained. Right there in the look on Steve’s face with the way he looked back at him.

And he was happy to make a couple more.

#billy hargrove #harringrove #stranger things #steve harrington #mandi writes tresh #ficlet #harringroveapril #harringrove april

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youranxiousnerd · 3 years

Text

Most Likely To Thoughts

because i am an angry theater kid

spoilers below

First of holy shit. That was one of the best episodes of the season. My second favorite (episode 5 has a special place in my heart okay?)

big red is awesome

i missed ABF this episode hes awesome

miss jenn you literally did the exact same thing

“would you like to be the first” “im good”

ashlyn youre a cutie

oh my god guys they’re actually rehearsing

FRICKING GO BIG RED

EJ YOU KILLED IT

Gaston was ICONIC.

the callback to 1x08

“monkies”

im sorry you guys haven’t blocked the 2nd act?!?!?!?! its MARCH the show was cast in January you’ve had TWO months i have been in shows blocked in less time

*angry theater kid screeching*

“It’s an expression, Sebastian”

Seb is going to snap one day. This is like the fourth time this has happened this season.

Like he lowkey looked pretty sad and angry after that comment. Maybe the episode 10 Seblos fight isn’t going to be so private.

ANYWAYS back to the episode (i will gladly talk about seblos all day)

KOURT AND NINI KOURT AND NINI

they lookin good

kourt and nini have started a “relationships are hard” club and the members include big red, gina, and seb. ricky and ej pop in from time to time

kourtney that is a great lie well done

communication saves lives and obviously ricky and nini never got the memo

ricky no

did you learn nothing from nini and ej?

i do like how he immediately regretted it. like he knows he effed up

oooo ej, gina, carlos, and seb thats intersting

do not try to tell me carlos and seb dont hold hands in class bc they do

#giveusmoreoftheseforupleaseineedagroupchat

AIHFDAKFHGAL GINAS SNORT I LOVE IT

ej honey i think you like her

ngl i might have jumped on the portwell train

GINA LEFT BAHAHA

cash caswell

i hate him already

ej just sinking in his chair

carlos’ somewhat impressed face i cant

cash you son of a gun why

cash this is career day not show off your son day

ej noooo

“seize the day” theatre kids share a knowing glance

im shocked carlos didnt stand up and do the choreo

miss jenn has a new man every episode omfg

mazzara is my fav

STOP

HOLD THE PHONE

THEY ARE DOING TECH WORK

I REPEAT, TECH WORK

IM A TECHIE IM FREAKING OUT OMFG

those are the nicest high school aprons like where are the ratty tshirts?!?!

how is sebs so messy

bitter seb

i smell tension

ope seb is mad

he is going to snap one day i swear

you can tell carlos regretted it or just doesnt understand what happened

im glad the seblos fight is building instead of something out of the blue

seb has been kinda pushed around this season im happy he is finally saying something

and no more seblos the rest of the episode rip

carlos go after your boyfriend come on

you know what would have been fun? they have their bantar while cleaning brushes and rollers in a clogged sink

ricky have you ever asked how big red is doing?

ASHLYN WITH A DRILL

OMFG GUYS I LOVE DRILLS YESSSSSS

why is there no drill piece in the drill what is she doing? is she bolting stuff or predrilling?

ash trying to be supportive

i love ashlyn guys

omfg two parents this episode what is this?

kourt’s mom being on her side love to see it

“i live to serve”

“i cleaned your desk a little” yep she’ll take you back after that

the shade kourtney is throwing im living for it

ricky just disappears and reappears

oof-okay richard

the pizza place fight. they were both in the wrong, im glad kourt shut them down

REDLYN NOOOO

i love them

ash is trying so hard and red is trying to get her to understand

mazzara you sneaky

i thought it was a date lol

miss jenn take the hint

PORTWELL HOME SCENE

that was really sweet, like go ej and gina, they have one of the healthiest relationships on the show because they learned what not to do.

thats a nice treehouse

lesbians build nice things

i should know

bc im one- ill stop

the treehouse scene-holy shiz. its amazing. props to josh and olivia, i was on the verge of tears. best rini scene of the season, hands down. it was beautiful

nini is sobbing i cant

ricky you can cry its okay

im so happy the breakup happened, major rini shipper in season 1 but they have fallen flat this season. it was handled so well and just gahhh

nini sobbing by herself

NINA IM CRYING NOW STOPPP

roman sounds so good holy.

like so good

this does damper my theory on ricky leaving halfway through the show and seb taking over as beast and singing this

MONTAGE TIME

“you’re gorgeous”

mazzara fell hard

“To Miss Jenn” why am i laughing

GABFILFBIWE PORTWELL

OH MY GOD GINA IS ASLEEP

EJ AND THE HOODIE

GUYS I CANT ANYMORE IM LOSING IT

THE LITTLE SMILE WHEN EJ TURNS THE LIGHTS OFF

REDLYN IS BACK IM SO GLAD

you guys are adorable

howie fell hard

omfg ej

ej noo we love you pls be okay

redlyn you cuties

RICKY NO

IM SOBBING NOW

OMFG LOOK AT HIM

HE HELD IT TOGETHER FOR NINI

GUYS IM CRYING I CANT

AHHHHHH

we stan big red in this house

ricky and the pillow no

glad ashlyn sticked around

i am dead. ricky thank you thats it.

like that broke me

i should not be crying over this i have already cried to much this season

you know what would have made this scene better? seb just sitting on his bed then carlos texts him and he pushes his phone aside. something to show them drifting bc its happening and i need content

like where were they the second half?

ITS OVER

WTF

LIKE WHAT THE ACTUALLY HECK YOU CANNOT END IT THERE

WHAT IS HAPPENING

As you can probably tell, I lost my mind this episode. I have no words, nothing at all. All I have is my tears. The past two episodes have been the best of the season. Episode 8 was another level.

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imonthinice · 3 years

Text

The Criminal Psychology Majors, Jason Todd x Fem!Reader Part 6/?

Word Count: 2.6-2.7k idk exact

Author’s Note: Y/N - Your name, A/N - Any name (your best friend’s name)

MUSIC IS INCLUDED THIS TIME! Please enjoy my personal music playlist, or at least a snippet of it.

TO THE PERSON WHO REBLOGGED AND SAID THIS WAS CUTE (at least the first part) you straight up made me cry omfg

Warnings: Swearing, gets really fucking heated at the end (no sex, yet), no beta bitch we die like Jason Todd

(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4) (Part 5) (Part 6) (Part 7) (Part 8) (Part 9) (Part 10) (Part 11) (Part 12) (Part 13) (Part 14) (Part 15) (Part 16) (Part 17) (Part 18) (Part 19) (Part 20)

Outfit Context:

Y/N:

Jason:

(Cause I finally found an outfit I liked on the boy, men’s fashion isn’t my strong suit,,, heh :) )

“Sorry, is my mouth hung open?” he asked.

“Yes, sir. Very much so,” she mocked.

Jason closed his mouth and outstretched his hand for Y/N’s, cupping it with both hands and kissing the top of it.

“You just look so lovely, Y/N.”

“And you’re chivalrous, Jay. Now, should we get going?” she asked, putting her free hand on top of his two.

“Yes, let’s go,” he let one of his hands go of hers and lead her to the Porsche he brought with him, not intertwining his fingers with hers.

He opened the passenger’s side door and let Y/N get in, not letting go of her hand til the last moment he could hold it. He got in an turned on the radio,

It felt like a good night, for dancing in the moonlight,

In empty streets, well, everybody's got a reason why,

If we could only just get it right,

Maybe it will all work out like in the movies,

But I know Romeo must die before the ending,

With a final poison kiss delivered gently,

Because you don't get lucky twice, and that's the truth,

“Sing to me sweet just like my memory,

If New York City Still moves me then I’ve found something real,

I’ll be okay, I could go on for days,

But I just don’t have the courage that it takes to be real,

And even if it’s dark at least we’ll be together,

Slowly sinking in the Earth to lay forever,

You better grab a hold and hold on for your life,

Because you don’t get lucky twice,

No, you don’t get lucky twice,” She sung with the tune.

Without the Bitter the Sweet Isn’t as Sweet - Mayday Parade

“You, you have the voice of an angel,” he said.

“It’s not that hard to mimic works of art with my voice.”

“Did you ever take singing lessons?”

“I did when I was younger, so I could sing French lullabies to my cousins.”

He placed a hand on her thigh as he drove them through the countryside of Gotham to Metropolis, taking the long way on what seemed like purpose. So he could encapsulate the moment in his memory for as long as he knew her and what she was to him. She was an adventure waiting to happen, a love story not yet written to tell for ages, a rock ‘n’ roll song written to please the masses in hidden corners of the world.

And to her, he was a masterwork of intertwining memories of pain, sadness, luck and beauty. A mind of complexity she was just waiting to dive into and see how it functioned. A story behind the white tuff of hair he had, why he was jacked to the masses if he was a book nerd. A story of his favourite book and his favourite sibling, his favourite trope, his love, his pain, him.

The moments where she stuck her hand out the window and traced symbols into the Autumn air swirling past the two as they cruised down the empty back roads. When he laughed as she sang Reste by GIMS and Sting. He didn’t understand the lyrics, but she did, and she called it a love song. Well, he got the parts Sting sung, but French wasn’t a language he knew like she did.

“I guess being Bilingual helped you out massively with that one, huh?”

“It’s a talent I never knew I needed, apparently.”

“Well, you did know you needed.”

“That’s fair,” she laughed, “ I guess I did always need it as a skill.”

“Do your cousins speak English too?” he asked.

“Yeah, a bit? It’s better English than my father.”

“Can he not speak English?”

“Well, he can, just not well. But my mother is also Bilingual in English and French so they never had to worry about my father being bad at English. My twin sister and I grew up knowing both languages,” she rambled, still playing with the wind, “I guess it’s a one-up I have on a lot of people, being able to just talk and talk in another language, travelling advantage,” she kept going, Jason intently listening to her as she went on and on, he liked the silence being filled by her voice, “You know? You might know, I don’t know how you were raised to a T,” she finished.

“Well, I can assure you I only know English so you have that theoretical one-up on me, too. But I choose to see that one-up as something you can teach me as time goes on and we progress,” he paused, “If you’re down to get serious eventually, that is,” he panicked.

“Well, maybe we’re at that point where we can say we’re casually seeing each other and exclusive, but not serious. Hopeful, but not pressuring ourselves into something that’s going to be put under a lot of pressure as we go on,” she said, still playing with the wind.

“We’ll see about that after dinner.”

“Where are we even going?”

“Fancy little restaurant with a balcony facing over the city,” he assured.

“Really out here living for the moments?”

“Well, most girls crack under the pressure of the paparazzi, you, however, flipped them off, and that’s being rewarded for showing that you can’t give a fuck about those dingy ass tabloids and how they treat you, by taking you out to nice places,” he said.

She laughed, “I’m glad I’m never going to live that one down, it was really fun to do.”

“I hope it continues as we go along, I would hate to see that behavior change when it brings a smile to everyone who’s ever been harassed by paparazzi” when they pulled over for a second, Jason quickly loosened his tie a tad, “Honestly, I want to ditch this fucking tie,”

“It’s not you,” she said, “It’s just not.”

“And you know me that well to take that guess?”

“I could see you struggling with it from a mile away, Jason. Maybe the fancy restaurant isn’t us,” she laughs, “But we aren’t going to not take that dinner date.”

“Oh we’re so going to take that date, but I’m thinking from here on out we do whatever the fuck we want, no fancy dates. Thoughts?” he asked.

“Done deal,” she said.

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

In the restaurant, the two of them were basically the worst people to be there, it was levels of fancy that neither of them actually wanted, they both wanted simplicity, but they both thought the presence of the other person was enough of a takeaway from the completely wrong choice of restaurant. They had Dick to blame for this one, and Jason made that clear to Dick in a joking text while Y/N snuck off to the bathroom to ‘fix her hair, she was actually checking her breath.

Dick, this fucking restaurant is a god damn bust, man. We aren’t you and Barbara, that’s what we’ve discovered today. lol.

Bummer! We really like that place.

I can see why it screams Dick and Barbs.

You kissed her yet though?

No.

Wuss! Cat got your tongue? Just do it, man.

And at the same time, Y/N was texting A/N about Jason and what to do,

Girl! Thank you so much for reminding me to bring mints, my god, food ruins your breath so much.

You really want the pretty boy kiss huh?

No, I’m eating the mints to not kiss him, YES I WANT THE KISS.

Ha! Honesty is key, just go for it.

She laughed as she packed her phone into her dress pockets (Yeah there’s fucking pockets :) ) and went to leave the restroom to meet up with Jason again. To which, Jason had already paid and tipped the waiter.

“I could have at least helped on the tip, Jay.”

“I tipped him 200%, but if you want to drop more cash, go for it.”

“You tipped that much?” she asked while slipping in a 50$ she had on her.

“Of course, food service workers deserve a lot more than what they get, especially when they have to deal with terrible customers,” he said as he went and grabbed her hand again, not intertwining fingers again, “And my best friend, Will, he complains about people who don’t tip and praises people who quote ‘over tip’ but I think that he deserves 200% each bill for the shit he puts up with.”

“Did you tip him when we went there?”

“No, I called in a ‘No questions asked’ favour. And before you say anything, he did the same to make me babysit his daughter-”

“Your best friend has a daughter?”

“Well, he’s older than me, but yeah, he’s a single dad because her mum kind of sucks, lovely little girl, I’m her godfather.”

“Does she call you Uncle Jason?”

“Well, Uncle Jay, it’s like one of the only works she knows how to say properly, and Dada,” he laughed, “Great little girl,” he said, nervously, “This doesn’t change anything, does it? ‘Cause if he, knock on fucking wood, lord forbids, dies that will be my daughter.”

“Well, he’s not dead and you’re not worrying that he’s going to die, so nothing has to change. God kids are god kids, noble that you took on your best friend’s kid if, lord forbid, anything happens to the man, really,” she assured.

He sighed and kissed the back of her hand, “Then that is just a gift on top of what I did,” he smiled and lead her back to the Porsche once again, opening the car door for her and she slightly turned on the radio, he let out a small laugh to himself, he got the pretty girl. He got into the Porsche again and began backing out.

“There’s something about ditching a really expensive dinner date that leaves you wanting more,” she said, absent-mindedly.

“What kind of more?” he asked.

“The kind you see in the movies, fully exposed and adventurous, you know?”

“Well, we could always sneak into the Wayne Manor Gardens and dance the night away under the stars like lovers do,” he half-joked, placing a hand on her thigh again and pretending like he did it subconsciously, but he was hyper-aware, especially when he caught her smile as she laughed.

“Wayne Manor? With your brothers, sisters, dad, and grandfather?” she paused, “If you’re serious, then no, not tonight. If you’re pulling my leg then, hell fucking no,” she joked.

“Maybe one day, then, huh?”

“One day, for sure. When it isn’t scary to accidentally run into your family on their property running around with you,” she said.

“Well, we can always go into the Wayne Enterprises Ballroom and dance the night away, no one should be in the office for a while and even then since there are no classes in the entire school tomorrow you can just hide out in my office if we stay too long,” he paused to make sure she was still listening, “Security can’t question me because I’m Bruce Wayne’s son, and security is tight as fuck so paparazzi can’t get to us,” he paused to put a little bit of pressure on her thigh, “What do you say? Can I have this dance, Milady?” he half-joked.

“You want to know something Jason?

“Always, Y/N.”

“I took dance lessons when I was younger, can you Waltz?” she asked.

“Yes ma’am, I can.”

“Then I’m in, let’s go.”

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

She loved the feeling of being back in her new hometown, Gotham. So when they pulled into the massive black building, she felt even more welcomed, security at the gates did ask ‘Who’s the girl?’ but Jason just explained it very easily,

“You know that date of mine that flipped off the press and you lot loved it?” he asked.

“Yes, sir,” the man responded.

“You can call me Jason, you know that. But this is that girl.”

And they were let through the parking gates and into the underground parking system, they had to travel surprisingly far to Jason’s reserved spot in the lot, but the did get there before it hit AM. Once out of the car, Jason grabbed her hand and they ran into the building’s employees doors. It was a tight squeeze, but the feeling of Jason pressed so close to her sent chills down her spine. They went through many halls and reached the Ballroom, and entering it was like a dream for her.

Walls lined with intricate shapes and colours, but the colours never brought away from the stage at the far end from the door, the curtains seemed to redden with each step towards them, the 3, maybe 4 chandeliers hung above her like crystals in the ocean, it was amazing and beautiful. Checkered floorboards to give it a little bit of dimension, but it was the same colour as the main wall so your brain and eyes wouldn’t hurt after looking at it. It was stunningly beautiful and that’s what drew her in.

When he grabbed her hand and put on Never Let Me Go by Florence + The Machine, pulling her close to his chest and slowly Waltzing her around the room, spinning her when it felt right for him to do. Neither of them worried about the sloppiness or how it looked to the naked eye because it was for them. no one got satisfaction like they did at that moment. And grabbing her for one last dip was Jason’s goal when the ending of the song hit, although out of breath and his face stuffed in her chest as they both panted, he did pull her up so they were face-to-face on the dancefloor that they wiped clean.

“Did I tell you that you look stunning, Y/N?”

“I think you mentioned it a few times, Jay,” she said, staring directly into his eyes.

“Well, I mean it.”

“And I’m going to mean this,” she paused, taking her hand and placing it on his cheek, “ The way your eyes are a green-blue tint makes me lost in them, they’re like a sea of this mind I find myself liking more and more every day,” she paused to put her other hand on his other cheek, “And the way your nose and cheek freckles frame them is amazing.”

And he went for it. Somehow when he pressed his lips into hers, it felt like they were meant to match, and they both opened their mouths to play the coveted game of tongue-war, but they didn’t play by the rules, it was soft and sweet but full of passion and love, not lust. His hands would travel to her waist and lightly grip her, while her hands would travel to his neck and drape around the back of it.

They pulled away at the same moment to take in air, something they had clearly been missing as they were connected, they both let out a small chuckle before she put her hands in his hair and went in for round 2.

This time it was hungrier, and they both played with the shapes of the other so much more as time went on, he would grab her ass and she would pull on his hair slightly before he picked her up and she wrapped her legs around his waist and moved one of her hands to the nape of his neck, this time, they would break for seconds only to start moving towards his office, which, conveniently, had a couch.

To say he threw her on that couch would be an understatement, he fucking thrust her on that couch and climbed on top of her, it was like 3 days of passion and lust combined themselves in a matter of minutes from their first kiss to them meeting on the couch. They both knew deep down that it couldn’t escalate further than this, especially at 1 in the morning, but time moves fast when you’re connecting in this way.

They finally broke after their passionate exchange and he fell to her side and began to spoon her, “Worth it,” he whispered.

“Worth what?” she asked.

“It was worth it to take a chance and defy my anxieties to ask you on that first date.”

“I don’t like a reality where you didn’t ask me on that date.”

“Neither do I, and I’m positive of that.”

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sevenkittensinatrenchcoat · 3 years

Text

Cats 1986 (and Others) vs. 2016

A post I made a few months ago comparing information gathered from interviews with different Cats casts has come up again recently and I’ve heard even more interviews since, so I want to add on to that a little and elaborate on the things I’ve already said.

CW: Some of the language regarding Demeter’s backstory is a bit darker than I’ve previously mentioned

So, I’ve now heard interviews from US Tours III, IV, and V, spanning from 1986 to 2012. They’re all Broadway-based, and the Broadway Revival went in a very different direction, but the three tours were all very similar to each other.

In both the tours and in 2016, the cast was sat down before rehearsals to hear the “story of Cats”. However, this meant two completely different things. The Tour casts were told the plot of the show, who their characters were and what they were meant to be doing. The 2016 was told the story of how the show Cats was created, how ALW had the idea and made a show out of it. No mention of the story and characters. This means that the Tour casts were given useful information for building their characters, while the 2016 cast got something that was interesting but did nothing to help them do their jobs in the present. More emphasis was put on the show’s legacy than on how to actually perform it. Trevor Nunn did the 2016 explaining, I believe, and it sounds like he was on an ego trip, talking about what he did instead of what the cast was supposed to do. Trevor Nunn is one of the few people who knows how the show works, so this is quite frustrating.

Though the Tour cast was given a whole story, most of them only remembered the perspectives of their own characters. The point of learning the plot was so that they knew what they were doing. It wasn’t supposed to matter to the audience. So, everyone mainly focused on their own jobs. But, everyone knew Demeter’s backstory, because it was the first thing they were told and it caught their attention. It almost became a meme that the first sentence of the plot was “Demeter was raped by Macavity”.

The story begins with Demeter having just escaped from Macavity. He kidnapped and raped her. Though she didn’t want it, she kind of enjoyed the sex, which messed with her head quite a bit. Bomba went through the exact same thing, but because she enjoyed it, she acts like the whole thing was nothing more than an annoyance. The two react to the same situation in different ways.

Jacob Brent was either given a toned down version of the story (he mentions kidnapping, but not rape), or he chose to give a toned down version to avoid the uncomfortable subject.

The 2016 knew that Macavity and Demeter had some sort of backstory, but they weren’t very clear on exactly what happened. They decided that they’d had an abusive relationship, but that the whole thing was consensual and there was no kidnapping, because the only element of this story that the audience can pick up without context is that there was some sort of sexual relationship between Macavity and Demeter, but she’s now afraid of him.

At least one cast member said that Macavity was a rapist, but she didn’t elaborate.

This messed with Demeter’s character far more than anyone expected. The rape element honestly isn’t necessary. Demeter and Macavity had some sort of sex, but it could’ve been consensual, with Demeter enjoying the sex but hating the man. That’s actually what Gillian Lynne seemed to have implied in interviews. However, the kidnapping part of the backstory is important, because it establishes the connection between Demeter and Grizabella. While hiding from Macavity, right before the story begins, Demeter sees Grizabella on the Bad Side of Town. Due to not being a Jellicle before this night, she doesn’t know who she is, and therefore has no bias against her. She just sees this woman living on the streets, humans wondering aloud why she isn’t dead, and felt sympathy for her.

So, when Grizabella appears at the ball and everyone hates her, Demeter wants to intervene, but she doesn’t want to upset her new friends. She came to the Jellicles for protection and is afraid of them rejecting her for siding with their enemy. Still, she tells the tribe what she knows about Griz, possibly trying to convince them to be nicer to her, but it doesn’t work and Demeter just starts following the crowd.

The lyrics Demeter sings, by themselves, are musical exposition that doesn’t imply sympathy. A line like “You’d really have thought she’d ought to be dead” sounds like it could be played as an insult. The words can either mean “I’m surprising the poor thing’s still alive in her condition” or “Why can’t the bitch fuck off and die already?”. Without the context of Demeter’s backstory, Kim Faure picked the latter, when with the context, it’s clearly meant to be the former. So, Demeter’s delivery of her lines in Glamour Cat in 2016 is venomous, almost sadistic.

Later on, towards the end of act one, 2016 Demeter reaches out to Grizabella like she does in most other versions, despite the earlier delivery. What made her change gears? I have no idea.

So, there was a lot of insight on Demeter. She’s the character with the most detailed backstory, making her the closest thing the show has to a protagonist.

Another character that gets a lot of attention, as he demands, is Tugger. Many Tugger actors were interviewed. I think he’s the favorite character of the host of the podcast. Different Tuggers from different eras responded to certain topics differently. Tuggers from the 1980s were unaware that Tugger was commonly interpreted as Not Straight and that Tuggoffelees is a thing. But, the more recent the show their from, the more they’re aware of and interested in the topic. The Tour V Tugger joined very late, during the last few years of the tour. He had access to the internet and could see what the fandom was up to. He played Tugger as ambiguously bi and, though he hadn’t thought of it at the time, liked the idea of the Tuggoffelees pairing. Tyler Hanes, 2016 Tugger, was the only one interviewed who played Tuggoffelees on purpose.

Tyler Hanes was very interesting. He watched the 1998 film while preparing for the role and didn’t seem to like it very much. He wanted his version of Tugger to be his own and avoided taking inspiration from any other version. John Partridge’s Tugger and Hanes’ Tugger being so different from each other might’ve been deliberate.

But, the choreography is what really messed with Tugger’s character. The host of the podcast mentioned Tugger’s pelvic thrusts and Hanes said that he wanted to do that sort of thing, but the new choreography removed all of it. He couldn’t make Tugger as horny or sexy as he wanted to. It was a key part of the character, but the choreography just wouldn’t let it happen. The result is that a bunch of queens fangirl over Tugger, but because Tugger’s defining trait in his number is being vain and obnoxious, the reason why he, of all toms, is considering the sexiest is completely lost. He’s just a dick to everyone (except Misto) and they love him anyway.

Other Tuggers do act like assholes during the number, but it’s not the focus. The lyrics are about Tugger being difficult, but the choreography, often to a comedic degree, isn’t about that. The message of Lynne’s choreography is that DESPITE Tugger being obnoxious, he’s a sex god and that’s what matters to his fans. Blankenbuehlers’s choreography mainly focuses on Tugger being obnoxious, which is a better match to the lyrics, but it makes the character less likable.

Also, I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: The two most sexualized numbers are Tugger’s and Macavity’s. Tugger’s number is about a man being sexy. Macavity’s number has two women being sexy. Blankenbuehler redid Tugger’s number, toning down the sexuality, but he left Macavity alone completely, so it’s as sexual as it always is. Male sexuality needs to be toned down, but female sexuality is fine. This is what happens when a woman is replaced with a straight dude. I doubt it was done on purpose, but there was definitely some subconscious bias going on there.

The way the casts talk about the two choreographers is also different. Both of them are treated as the experts on the show, more like how a director is normally treated. But, how well they filled that role varied. Lynne could explain what every single move meant. Those who worked with her knew exactly what they were doing. Nobody has ever described any of Blankenbuehler’s choreography with the same detail. In numbers in 2016 that Blankenbuehler left alone, even without Lynne present at all, everything was clearly explained. Skimble actors, since Skimble’s number wasn’t altered much, describe people who’d worked with Lynne talking them through the choreography. No one talked about Blankenbuehler’s work like that. Every move of Lynne’s Jellicle Ball apparently represented something. Blankenbuehler’s Jellicle Ball looks fine, but there isn’t that level of detail.

The rehearsals of the the choreography were paced differently as well. 2016 was apparently put together in something of a hurry. Most Cats rehearsals begin with several days of the cast studying cats and learning how to move like them. 2016 devoted only a few hours to this. Gillian Lynne reportedly visited a rehearsal and was upset the none of the dancers knew how to move like cats. Cats has unique choreography in a unique cat-like style, but the 2016 team had no time to practice it, so they often come across as a bit too human. They’re talented human dancers, but they’re not very cat-like. Blankenbuehler’s choreography is often in a different, more modern urban style, that doesn’t seem like it was done with cat-like movement in mind.

I don’t hate Blankenbuehler. In behind the scenes stuff, he seems like a nice guy that the team liked working with. But, I don’t think he really understood what his role was. He was a choreographer and he did choreography. This would’ve been fine, even great for any other show, but not Cats.

Most modern musical theatre is based on opera. Characters sing about their feelings and that tells the story. The added element of dance takes the feelings of the song and amplifies them. The actors are emoting with their entire bodies in a larger-than-life way that creates an emotional intensity that audiences can empathize with. The music makes the audience feel what the characters are feeling in a way nothing else really can. Music is kind of magical. You hear a certain melody with certain instruments, and suddenly you’re happy, or sad, or angry.

This, by the way, is why going for realism in musicals is a terrible idea. Musicals don’t exist in physical reality. They exist on an emotional level that realism takes away from.

Cats rarely works like opera. The lyrics are mainly just adaptations of whimsical poems, so they don’t tell you much of anything. Memory, which features original lyrics and no dancing is an exception to this rule. In general, because they’re not dance roles, Grizabella and Old Deuteronomy have to use music and song lyrics to play their parts in the story. Jemima also does this whenever she does something connected to either one of them.

But, Cats is normally more of a ballet than an opera. Ballet tells a story purely through dance. Because the lyrics in Cats matter so rarely, it ends up working like a ballet, because the dance, unrelated to the poems, means something. It’s still a heightened reality where music invokes emotions and actors emote with their whole bodies, like in other musicals, but instead of the dance being an amplifier, it’s the storyteller.

ALW really liked a bunch of poems and wanted to put them to music. The result was a bunch of songs with a similar them but no real connection to each other. That works as a concept album, but Webber wanted a musical, an actual show where people danced to his concept album. He didn’t care about the story and didn’t expect anyone else to.

But, other people cared about the story. No one knew how to make a musical that’s not about something. Trevor Nunn added Memory and the storyline with Grizabella as an emotional centerpiece. There wasn’t a clear plot, but, on an emotional level, it now felt like something was actually happening. Gillian Lynne had no idea how to choreograph a musical about nothing, so she didn’t. She came up with her own interpretations of things and made the show about something. Several somethings, in fact. Victoria is going through puberty and discovering her sexuality. Demeter is recovering from an abusive sexual experience, with Bomba having a different attitude towards being in the same situation. The women in the story were given detailed story arcs that often revolved around their sexuality.

How sexuality is portrayed in Cats could be its own essay.

Anyway, Cats tells its story with a unique style of choreography. Because the choreographer is the story teller, Lynne had a lot of influence over the show. She was the one who knew all the details. Blankenbuehler was brought in to choreograph a show, like a normal job for him, not knowing what that would actually mean. He came in to have dance amplify the emotions in the song lyrics like in any other musical, not knowing that that’s impossible to do with Cats. The role of choreographer meant a level of knowledge and control that would normally belong to the director, composer, and lyricist. He didn’t realize that the show having any story at all depended on him.

So, he did stuff that looked cool, but didn’t tell the story, or that took the story in a direction that it wasn’t supposed to go. Tugger dancing in front of a giant mirror is funny in the moment, but that sort of narcissism, though funny, isn’t likable, and Tugger needs to be likable. He’s a major character and he helps save the day at the end by hyping up Misto. But, 2016 Tugger hypes up Misto because if feels like Misto is the only cat he truly respects. He has the same respect for Old Deuteronomy that the others have, but he doesn’t sound quite as sincere when he sings about him. He spends so much of his number antagonizing Munkustrap in particular that it’s hard to believe that he has any respect for him.

What can be learned from these interviews is that Blankenbuehler didn’t know what his job truly was and was there because someone important thought Cats would be more popular in 2016 if it was more like Hamilton and got the Hamilton guy to give it a make-over. Nunn was so proud of the show’s success that he neglected what made it successful in the first place, and the 2016 cast was rushed through rehearsals without proper instructions. Everyone tried their best, but they were all stuck.

For the most part, I blame whoever decided to have Blankenbuehler rechoreograph the show. Blankenbuehler did what he thought his job was and the cast did their jobs to the best of their ability. What really ruined Cats 2016 was an executive decision to fix something that wasn’t broken, believing if they made the Old Big Show more like the New Big Show, that would make people love it again. But Hamilton is no more like Cats than a cat is like a dog.

#cats 2016 #lots of cats tours #really long post #andy blankenbuehler is bad at cats #but it's not his fault #a cat is not a hamilton #gillian lynne #don't let her legacy die with her

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alberivh · 3 years

Note

tw: hallucinations after loved one’s death, major character death, description of .. corpse, blood, mention of wanting to throw up, badly written kaeya</3

kaeya stared at the mirror in front of him with a blank stare. the room he’s in is dim, the source of the light is only the moon. papers lay down on the floor untouched, bed looking so messy as if no one ever cleaned it, and a kaeya that never looked so insane before.

there is a smile on his face, and yet, his stare doesn’t have any meaning behind it. he sat on the bed motionlessly. if anyone looks at him now, they would’ve to think kaeya haven't fully recovered yet.

.. actually, he never recovered.

he’s staring at you. it’s been hours since he’s doing it, looking at you with a smile, that damned smile he always wore when he’s with you. you always looked so beautiful, ethereal. even until now, you’ve always stayed the same.

“.. kaeya.” you called him. you’re left with no response. “why did you leave me all alone?” your voice was low, anyone would barely hear you say something, but for kaeya, it is loud enough. your voice, words are seeping into his mind, just like the other night. “kaeya..” he can feel you touching his shoulders. “come with me..”

“kaeya..” you feel very cold. there is no warmth left in you, your touch feels so familiar yet distant. “take my hand, kaeya..” you moved forward, now holding kaeya’s face with your cold hands. your smile is the same, the everlasting warmth in you.

kaeya hates how cold you feel. the voices running inside his mind repeatedly without mercy as they begin to sound louder and louder. the feeling of your fingertips laying on his skin is bittersweet. he feels like he could drown in it, but at the same time, he wants to run away from you.

kaeya wanted to talk, he wanted to answer you, but he just can’t. kaeya could only touch your hands. “why are you still here, kaeya?” even he doesn't know why. your hand raised up to brush his hair with your fingers, giving kaeya a form of comfort. “i can set you free from your suffering, kaeya. as long as you take my hand, we can always be together..”

if only, you’re warmer, maybe he wouldn’t be so afraid of you. if only your skin weren't slowly burning, turning into ashes, maybe he wouldn’t be so scared. if only your eyes are that empty, if only your voice isn’t filled with sweet nothings, if only you aren’t bleeding, if only you aren’t coming to take him.

“kaeya, don’t you think you must pay for what you’ve done?”

“i wouldn’t be dead right now if it weren’t for…”

he remembers how it was still a very decent morning. he can hear the sound of mondstadt people cheering, talking, singing happily, per-usual. and he can also feel your warmth. “have a nice day, kaeya!” you’re alive. you’re alive. you’re alive. you’re alive. you’re alive.

kaeya instinct never lied to him. he had had the feeling of something unpleasant would happen that day. but he has the gut to ignore it. thinking it’d only be a usual unpleasant thing– whatever that is. perhaps, kaeya should’ve thought more about it.

maybe he shouldn’t have let you go off in the woods all alone.

maybe he shouldn’t have said, “i’m sorry darling, i’m quite occupied at the moment. i can catch up later.”

or maybe he shouldn’t have seen the bloody corpse.

maybe he shouldn't have given too much care of the found body in the middle of the night.

maybe he should have let jean handle it.

… maybe he shouldn't have remember your corpse.

maybe he shouldn't have seen you sitting under a tree with lightless, half-lidded eyes. with clothes ripped here and there, scratches around your whole body, blood flowing from your head.

maybe he shouldn't have touch your cold body.

the fact that the cold he felt at that time is the exact same makes him want to throw up.

maybe he shouldn't have let you linger around him at all. he shouldn't have let you be here, he shouldn't have listen to whatever you are saying, maybe he shouldn't have lie about feeling the warmth in your smile he doesn't even recognize.

kaeya shouldn't have lie to himself.

but no matter what, he will always do it. no matter in what condition you are, kaeya will always be want to be with you– hallucinations or not. he will always let you linger around him, even in such a taste, he will let you devour him, he is will let you take him.

for you, anything for you.

don’t die for dead people kaeya, hallucinate your dream for the sake of your living. Even if you couldn’t reach it, it’s still pointless to do shits for the dead. Oh and to add,

what if kaeya doesn’t visit your gravestone because he’s still in denial? What if the reason he hallucinate you, it’s because he wants you to be mad at him for not being able to move on, for not being able to accompany you, for not being able to be save you, and for not being able to accept the fact you died out of his reach?

HALAH CAPEK JADI POETIC BENTAR DEH JING GW ULANG LAGI AJA, TAPI KEK MAKSUD GW, WHAT IF KAEYA PUNISH HIMSELF BY HALLUCINATING YOU DAN ITU DARI KEMAUAN DIA SENDIRI?? HE BROUGHT FLOWERS TO YOUR BEDSIDE CAUSE WHEN YOURE ALIVE, YOU ALWAYS MAKE SURE ALL OF THE FLOWERS POT ITU FRESH DAN KAEYA ALWAYS LOVE IT, SO NOW BECAUSE HE’S TECHNICALLY ALONE BUT STILL IN DENIAL HE ALWAYS MAKE SURE YOUR POT WAS NICELY PLANT AND THE FLOWERS ARENT DRY

ISI POT BUNGANYA ITU EITHER DAISIES OR LILIES, THE SPIDER LILIES ADA DI POT BUNGANYA BEDSIDE KAEYA. TO REMEMBER THAT KAEYA WILL STILL NEED TO ACCEPT THAT HE LOST OVER DEATH, YOUR DEATH TO BE SPECIFIC

oh and what if, the day you died, kaeya was preparing a marriage proposal for you? So the ring stood upon your cold bedside. With the flower petals surrounding it. a crumple of cold blanket you used to sleep with when you’re alive. HE MAKES YOUR BEDSIDE AS SPECIFIC AS HE CAN (kayak the morning before you left to the forest, the bed would look like that, to show the acceptance side of kaeya “they haven’t left”). AND AND, he cried whenever he realized that he would slowly lose his memory, due to the growing sickness he suffered the years after you pass. Because his memory is the only momentum he had of you and him.

#alberivh interaction space #lia’s brainrot (anjay)

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geewithluv · 3 years

Text

Down The Hall

Pairing: Reader x Kim Taehyung

Word Count: 1.5k

Warning: stalker!Taehyung

Summary: Something's up with her neighbor down the hall...

A/N: I haven't written in a long while... if you read this I hope you like it.

-----

She’s decided there is something noticeably off about her neighbor down the hall. She couldn’t put a finger on it if she tried. And she had tried. Numerous times. In the various conversations with her various family members during routine phone calls. In the coffee shop conversations with friends that were too busy to actually dedicate more than a half-hour to hang out and in conversations with friends who weren’t too busy and sat on her couch to hear her recollect the strange behaviors of her neighbor down the hall.

Everyone who would listen had probably heard her mention this man.

And everyone said something along the lines of her being paranoid. That this was just “city living” and the small-town girl just wasn’t used to “normal city behavior”.

Something was off.

Maybe it was the fact that he always had to walk his dog whenever she left her apartment. Even if she knew for a fact that he had just walked the dog less than an hour prior.

Maybe it was that it took him an extremely long time to check his mailbox. The exact amount of time it took for her to walk into the building from work and make her way to the elevator when he would then rush to go up to the 4th floor with her.

Or maybe it was even the newly found knowledge that he was now friends with her good friend that helped her move into the building. The friend that had heard her moans and groans, complaints and grievances, regarding the man down the hall and the creepy feeling she gets when she thinks about the fact that he most certainly knows her daily routine.

That friend, that close friend, was now friends with her neighbor down the hall.

His name is Taehyung . As she’s learned from Jungkook who was surprised she didn’t know his name since he knew her name very well. Jungkook didn’t find this nearly as concerning as she did.

“He’s really nice!” Jungkook tried to convince her. She wasn’t buying it. In fact, she was more apprehensive about the fact that the man had now become a regular customer at the record shop Jungkook managed. Jungkook even mentioned that Taehyung had been going to a different shop much closer to the apartment complex but decided to branch out.

All of a sudden.

Jungkook didn’t find this odd. She did.

Taehyung finally introduced himself to her one day on the elevator back up to the 4th floor. She was surprised to find that he seemed fairly normal. That thought didn’t last long because she quickly remembered that the best serial killers and psychopaths seem normal. She convinced herself that he seemed normal because of the dog he offered for her to pet.

He told her that she could call the dog Tannie. He offered the ball of fluff as if he was a peace offering. As if Taehyung knew he creeped her out. As if he knew she really liked dogs. As if he knew it was a way into her heart. As if he had talked to Jungkook about her.

“We’ve been over this,” Jungkook said with a huff, “Taehyung isn’t some crazed murderer. You’ve gotta stop watching those Netflix documentaries. He’s super chill and I want you to hang out with him. I feel like I’m cheating on you.” He tried to explain his actions.

“You are cheating on me! I told you that he creeps me out and you befriended him!” She was very upset, Jungkook was one of her only friends in the city. One of the only people close enough to come to her rescue if something went wrong. And now he’s befriended her biggest fear. A man she is more cautious of than that one homeless man by the subway station who likes to sing creepy renditions of 90’s pop songs.

“It was hard not to befriend him. C’mon. If I like him he can’t be that bad. You’re just a little paranoid because of the move. That’s normal, I was too! But you’ve gotta get over it and then you, Taehyung, and I can all be friends. That sounds great, right?”

“Does it really mean this much to you?” She asked with a sigh, but she already knew the answer.

“Yes! It’d be great! We could bring Jimin and Yoongi around too! Some of the girls, even! We’d all be super close and have movie nights or something!” Jungkook sounded too excited for this possibility for her to let him down. So she agreed. She agreed to hang out with Taehyung and Jungkook.

Jungkook insisted that they hang out at her apartment. Since two of the three of them lived in the same complex and Taehyung said his place was a mess even though it’s the bigger apartment. She begrudgingly agreed.

Jungkook and Taehyung seemed really close. Closer than she’d expect two people who’ve only met weeks ago to be. Jungkook made friends quickly… but this was very quick. Too quick.

Taehyung complimented her vinyl collection when he came in. Something she was proud of because it was a pricy habit that Jungkook fed into like she was but a duck in a pond and he was a man with too much bread.

Taehyung lingered around her furniture a little too much for her liking. Delicately touching the fabric of her sofa as he walked past. He practically studied her bookshelf. And when she finished cooking, with minimal help from Jungkook, he savored every bite so much that it reminded her of those ‘mindful eating’ exercises a friend had recommended for anxiety and she was certain his food would go cold before he finished.

He complimented her greatly on it. Kept mentioning how delicious it was and he was sure he hadn’t met anyone who cooked as well as she did that wasn’t a professional chef.

The compliments kept coming throughout the evening. On how well she’s decorated and her eye for color. Gradually the compliments moved from her musical tastes and her throw pillows to how nicely she was dressed.

Jungkook was a little tipsy and didn’t notice this shift. She almost didn’t notice either, he was so smooth with the way he slipped it into the conversation.

Eventually, midway through a card game, Jungkook stood up and said he was going to head home before he got too drunk to call an uber. Before he left he hugged her, telling her he was so happy she and Taehyung get along. She gifted him the remaining half bottle of wine and told him to call when he got home.

“Let me help you clean up.” Taehyung offered. It sounded like an offer but it was more of a demand. She allowed him, being a little too tired and a little too intoxicated to deny the help anyway. He even washed the dishes as she started to lose energy.

Eventually, she became so tired that after Jungkook called to let her know he was safe she didn’t protest when Taehyung hugged her before leaving. He thanked her for the wonderful night before he closed her door and allowed her to rest.

Only for a few minutes. 15 if she had been looking at the time as Taehyung had. He knocked on the door. He waited for movement, waited for her to open the door. She didn’t. She had passed out on the sofa.

Taehyung smiled as he opened the door. “Forgot my wallet.” He said, for good measure, just in case she wasn’t fully out. But she was completely out. Taehyung almost worried she was dead. He checked her neck for a pulse and let himself linger there longer than necessary just caressing her neck thinking of how beautiful her collarbones were. How wonderful her lips looked just slightly parted and stained red with wine.

She had barely even finished the full glass so Taehyung wondered if she was such a lightweight that she thought nothing of a glass of wine knocking her out.

She must not have. Just like she must not have noticed Taehyung taking a little too long bringing her a glass or even subtly urging her to drink.

It didn’t matter anymore. She was out cold on her sofa, beautifully laid out for him. He’d stay in her apartment if he could but he already had a setup at his own that called out her name.

Carefully, Taehyung scooped her into his arms as if he was afraid of breaking her. He hummed a soft melody as he carried her into his apartment, thankful for the apartment doors closing on their own.

Taehyung walked her into the second bedroom of his apartment and laid her out on the bed. He strokes her hair softly, “I’ve waited so long for you.”

#bts fanfic #bts imagines #taehyung fanfic #taehyung imagine #bts reactions

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flowerflamestars · 3 years

Note

Okay okay I just read your jaw dropping post about how acotar would be with Nesta Under the Mountain and now I’m curious: does Rhys meets Feyre? Cassian and Nesta’s first encounter, how does it goes like? LUCIEN AND AZRIEL SLOW BURN “STRANGERS” TO LOVERS? Nesta wouldn’t be stupid to let her sisters be kidnapped by Hybern, so how do they get changed into Fae? And DO they get changed? I’ve got a thousands questions now

OKAY YES- Nesta Under the Mountain, acomaf remix:

First, I just want to pause to highlight the chaos factor here. What happens after Amarantha and Tamlin die? Rhysand, bound by magical contract and also Dramatique, nopes out, bringing Lucien and Nesta.

And he’s a mess. It’s relief, it’s half a century of unimaginable torture. He needs a bath. He needs to lay in bed for a week before he speaks to another living person. Instead, he takes them to his moonstone palace.

Does he rest? Plan? Go find his friends who are screaming at his mental shields?

No. He gives Nesta and Lucien rooms, and proceeds to have breakfast with them while flirting with Nesta, so he can pretend everything is fine.

To say Nesta is feeling A Lot is an understatement. She has zero Tamlin murder regrets- and many, many, I came back to life and got kidnapped again regrets. She does take a bath. Washes off the blood, braids her hair, tries not to look at her freaky faery face, looks for clothes. Is unimpressed beyond measure at crop top sheer ensembles, and goes looking for Lucien.

Swathed in turquoise silks, doing that thing where he’s grinning but his eyes are flinty and just waiting for the next attack, he’s no better off. The robe in Nesta’s bathroom was a lace confection- the one in Lucien’s in quilted green silk. Nesta wears that.

Is still wearing it, when they show up to breakfast, Rhysand flirts- and because Nesta is an Archeron, she throws a teacup at his head.

(Lucien, beside her, buttering toast: yeah, that doesn’t work on her)

What really happens in acomaf? Love, trauma journey, betrayal. But Tamlin’s dead- and guess what family promptly sails back across the sea to seize power of Spring? Guess. No one is out here calling Nesta the Savior of Prythian. She’s not the mother, she’s the crone. Women love her, men fear her. She’s not the blessing, she’s the punishment.

Morrigan tracks down Rhys, and this is what she finds: 1 autumn prince, wearing a crop top and acidly explaining that he doesn’t give a single fuck if Spring burns. 1 devastating faery lady wearing nothing but a robe. Rhysand, with tea dripping from his hair.

Tears! Reunion! Nes & Luc, exit stage left faced with Emotions.

Nesta doesn’t need to learn to read- and she doesn’t need Rhysand’s fucking help, as she keeps saying, as he keeps doing nice things for her. Fuck off, she says, fixing her hair with the diamond pins that have mysteriously appeared on top of her book. Do not look at me like that, she threatens, catching him grinning at some insanely offensive thing she’s said about Beron.

Rhys likes Nesta. It’s not willing. Nesta...kind of hates Rhys still. Rhys is also still, A Mess- and Nesta just happens to be the sexy project in front of him.

You didn’t make a deal for me to be a permanent house guest, she tells him.

Morrigan, to herself, a respectable wlw who, you know, met Nesta in a robe and learned ten seconds later she killed a High Lord as a human: PLEASE STAY FOREVER

Rhysand takes them to Velaris.

Lucien is devastated by the prosperity- Nesta goes straight for Rhysand’s throat- you protected one city? Rhysand says, one city, and four people. It’s the closest Nesta ever comes to respecting him, lasts three seconds.

It takes one night for Nesta and Lucien to vanish. Dangerous and disconcerting for a few reasons- Prythian is singing songs of Nesta, and they’re songs of destruction. Lucien has a price on his head.

But they’re not courting danger- they’re over the wall. Nesta knows a war is coming, knows she’s painted a target sky high on her back. She leaves letters for her sisters- she’s alive, she can’t come home, she’s sorry, she loves them, please please please be careful- and they spend ten hours straight setting wards around the slumbering Archeron manner.

With his usual sense of good timing, the next morning is when Rhysand trots out his work for me plan.

Hybern wants a war, and Nesta is a weapon. Lucien, who has been a rapid fire, info dump strength been trying to tell Nesta all the shit she needs to know now that she’s a faery, tells him to go to hell.

Rhys feigns very much like that was uncalled for, unravels a few more layers of the I’m only bad as a ruse lifestyle before their eyes.

Nesta more or less ignores him, but explains Lucien’s comment for them both: no fealty. No oaths. No games. No more fucking tattoos.

Rhys, eventually, repeats himself: work for me, I’ll pay you, you don’t need to belong.

Nesta demands a contract. Exact terms. Proof of salary. Tells Rhys, casually, that she killed one High Lord human and she’s perfectly willing to try for a second with immortality on her side.

Nesta and Lucien, private contractors. Nesta and Lucien, who also don’t really believe a word Rhysand says.

But then it’s time for dinner. To meet the Court- Nesta repeats Court of Dreams to Lucien with such lofty disbelief he’s still giggling to himself every few minutes when they get to the House of Wind.

A pause, a step back: Cassian. Cas lost his shit when Nesta died- Cassian felt her come back to life- Cassian, who has never met her, has no idea what that means. He’s been rattled around, feeling more than a little crazy- tense, unfocused, walking the streets of Velaris like he forgot something that can never be found- he also didn’t tell anyone.

Nesta Archeron walks into the House of Wind beside Lucien Vanserra, and everything stops.

It’s Rhysand’s stumbling, lightening struck, immediate oh-shit reaction, just on a very different balcony, with circumstance more different that Cassian allows himself to believe.

There she was. There was what he’d been looking for- there she was, taking a glass of wine out of Lucien’s hand.

There’s no personal story time at this dinner. There’s Cassian, dumbstruck, silent, staring. Azriel, whose good manners kick in and make him speak. Lucien, drinking. Nesta treating it like a business meeting and directly trying to establish what everyone’s jobs are.

(Also Nesta, meeting Amren, recognizing her name from fairytales she read trapped in Tamlin’s house: Do you really drink the blood of men?

Amren: Only very, very bad men who ask nicely.

Nesta’s nod in response took years off Cassian’s life.)

Nesta, child of every court. Nesta, who Rhysand keeps comparing to the Courts universal holy objects while she bites her tongue bloody. Locate, read, utilize, steal- Nesta wants it done now, wants to hamstring Hybern before he can set foot on their island.

But research takes time. So Nesta’s learning to be a faery- and breaking a ridiculous amount of things along the way- Lucien is hanging out in her shadow, free as he’s ever been in his entire adult like but also just waiting, waiting, for the axe to fall.

Everyone thinks they’re sleeping together- more importantly, even if they’re not, they’re In Love.

There’s no weaver in the wood moment- because frankly, Rhysand doesn’t want to risk that Nesta will somehow befriend her. Less Rhys in general, because Nesta doesn’t want to spend all that much time with him.

Nesta is just in Velaris, waiting for the damn job to start. With Lucien. Sometimes Amren, or Morrigan. Often, extremely often, Cassian.

In canon, when they meet, Cassian is all set up to hate her- she didn’t protect her sister, she’s disloyal she’s- all of these terrible things that have to be proven untrue. That clash, that fighting shapes...basically everything.

This Nesta, he has every reason to admire, and it’s killing him. She saved Prythian- she killed a High Lord with her bare hands and knife Cassian wouldn’t want to use to cut an apple. She’s incredible.

She’s also the unfortunate, perfect receptacle for all of Cassian’s self worth issues. He can’t look away, which means she’s not looking. Of course she loves the son of a High Lord, who fought by her side- they survived together, they’re the same species.

So. He’s just going to quietly, miserably, love her forever. But he doesn’t actually talk to her- this is the only Cassian who has ever been quieter than Az- he just can’t. But he’s always there- passing messages from Rhys. Flying her to the House of Wind. Present.

So he also ends up around when Lucien and Nesta decide to move on from magic training to physical training.

And Cassian absolutely falls over himself asking to help. To train her. To make her stronger. To maybe, you know, punch him in the face.

The offering goes as badly as can be imagined, all the wrong words and blushing fury. Insulting. A mess.

Nesta does what Nesta does best. Asks him, you’ve trained how much of your own army? Cassians answer is halting but true- yes, yes the Legion’s are his lifes work.

And look, Nesta is mad at the implied insults to her and Lucien both. She’s also mad this asshole who clearly doesn’t want her here, doing the job she was hired to do and has made that clear with the silent treatment, is now intruding on her personal business.

She gets in his face. I’m not an Illyrian. I’m not a man. I will never be a soldier under your command and I don’t need your help.

(the vicious cultural sexism has, in fact, trickled down to Nesta’s knowledge quite easily. She doesn’t know Cassian’s back story.)

The knife sinks oh, so, fucking deep. Cassian who also, has never learned to back down, doesn’t fuck off. So he’s around, brooding and training himself, while Lucien teaches Nesta evil little tricks and how to move like lightening, to use weapons and magic as one.

Nessian keep fighting. Cassian also keeps finding every even slightly plausible excuse to be in her company-because now she’s looking at him.

So what, if she’ll never love him back? So what, if fucking Lucien Vanserra who flirts with everything that moves somehow earned her loyalty? Cassian is never-will never- judge or undermine her choices. Never.

He just wants to be around. To speak to her every day. So what, if the angst is burning him alive?

Interlude: the Summer Court. Rhys and Nesta go alone.

Nesta likes Tarquin. Tarquin...is kind of more afraid of Nesta than Rhys. There’s no flirty montage, Nesta goes to hang out with Cresseida. Knows her for about a day, comes to understanding that Cresseida was the one who held Summer together under Amarantha.

Nesta tells Cresseida everything. Hybern’s coming back, they’re already making plays. They want the Cauldron, but control can be stolen with the Book. Rhysand thinks I can read it- all I want is Hybern dead.

It is, in the end, compelling. Helped along by the fact Nesta peppers in that Rhys isn’t going to ask.

There’s a fight, a battle, conditions: in the end Tarquin gives the book to Nesta. Only Nesta. For Rhys, this still works- for the Summer Court, the distinction is important. Nesta Archeron, Cauldron-blessed, the Sword of Prythian, will wield the book.

Not the blessing, the punishment.

Rhys says something very Rhys, and Nesta leaves. They’re winnowing to the same place, she can now, it doesn’t matter- but what matters is this: Nesta goes back to the House of Wind, and runs into Cassian.

She’s just carrying half the book- like that isn’t an insane, miraculous thing, and Cassian congratulates her, without saying anything stupid.

But then Nesta sprawls down in a window seat, and starts looking at the book.

(Cassian is GOING THROUGH IT. he thought being around her was bad? Knowing she’s in another court where he can’t make sure she’s safe or okay or not having a bad day made him LOSE HIS MIND)

Which is fully what he blames for the fact that Cassian also, does not leave. Crosses his arms. Leans in the doorway like it doesn’t matter. Asks, like a moron, why Nesta isn’t looking for Lucien.

(Cassian to Cassian: SHE WAS GONE DAYS- SHE COULD HAVE BEEN HURT? WHERE IS THE CARE? THE CONCERN? THE- LUCIEN WAS AT A BAR WITH AZRIEL LAST NIGHT)

Nesta: No, I’ll see him later.

Cassian: Reunions...are important. The war is going to come faster than any of us think.

Nesta: I know?? that’s why I just spent a week in fucking sand- I’m doing my job-

Cassian: We all have so little time-

Nesta: You think I don’t know that??

Cassian: I just. I don’t understand- you have options. You have the entire world. You are the entire world, and you deserve-

Nesta: What. Exactly. Do you think I deserve?

Cassian, miserably ferocious: someone waiting when you come home. from battle. from stupid shit Rhys makes you do. You deserve everything.

Nesta, rising from the window seat, walking across the room: You’re here.

Cassian:

Nesta, rolling her eyes as she sweeps past and away: You. Were here. When I got back.

I’m going to cut this here and then post a part two! Thank you so much for asking, stay tuned :)

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solarune · 4 years

Text

flowers in your hair

part of @neo-cult-ure‘s colours collab! | masterlist + prologue

pairing: lee taeyong x fem!reader (feat. a nosy lee donghyuck, childhood best friend quian kun, and college best friend/co-worker johnny seo)

genre: fluff, soulmate au, florist au, coffee shop au, idiots (literally) to lovers

warnings: taeyong being too cute to be real, florist!taeyong, coffee shop owner!reader, donghyuck is annoying, reader has a nightmare, switches to taeyong’s pov for one part

word count: 10,577

summary: what you know about your soulmate taeyong in the 6 years that you’ve known him: he has 6 tattoos but is already planning on getting 4 more, he loves his dog ruby very much, he has only ever shared his banana bread recipe with one person (you), his mom makes the best kimchi jjigae in the entire world, his favorite color is pink, and he is the man of your dreams. literally.

what you don’t know about taeyong: what he looks like.

what you know about the owner of the new flower shop across the street: he has light brown hair, he’s a caffeine addict (if his cousin donghyuck picking up coffee 5 days a week says anything about it), and he is your enemy by association (according to kun).

what you don’t know about the florist: his name.

a/n: i’ve wanted to write a florist!taeyong fic for the longest time and i finally got to!! thank you so much to @neo-cult-ure for reaching out to me to be part of this collab and please please please check out the rest of the fics because they were all written by some really talented writers!! thank you to @jungwoohoos for checking this fic over as she’s done with my others ily. hope you enjoy and feedback is always appreciated :-)

When you open your eyes, you can’t help but feel like something is off. You can’t quite put a finger on it but something feels strange. But perhaps it was that strange dream that you had last night. Something about picking a color and finding your soulmate? The details of the dream were already escaping you but it doesn’t matter because you have to start getting ready for school-

Wait. School?

You sit up in bed and realize that you’re back in your childhood bedroom. You can even hear your dad singing in the shower judging by the terrible vocals that you can hear through your closed door. But why are you at your parents’ house? You look at your bedside table and see your phone and a letter with your name on it beside it. Picking up your phone, you check the time and realize that it’s 7am but it’s the date that throws you off; it’s 8 years behind. You pick up the envelope and slide your finger under the flap, hoping that whatever was inside would help you figure out just what exactly was going on.

Dear Y/N,

You’re probably wondering what’s going on. Your memories from our reality are mixing with your memories from the reality that you’re in so life is going to be a bit confusing. Good thing I wrote this letter to explain, huh? My name is Cyan. I’m the woman you ran into and told you to pick a color to find your soulmate. Yes, that was real, it wasn’t a dream. You’re currently in an alternate universe and your goal is to find your soulmate. Once you do that, you will return back to our reality and you and your soulmate will have the memories from the alternate reality. It’s your job to not only find them in the alternate reality but in our reality as well. This sounds difficult but don’t worry. Fortunately, you and your soulmate are able to meet in your dreams. However, I don’t know the exact details about that so you’ll have to figure them out yourself. Good luck and hopefully we’ll see each other soon!

All the best,

Cyan xoxo

You sit in bed for the next 5 minutes, trying to process everything in the short letter. You have a soulmate? You’re in an alternate reality? And not only that but you’re a teenager again so now you have to go back to high school? And what about your reality? How does time work here? Is this like a Narnia thing where you’re gone for years but return at the exact moment that you left? Or are you there for a week but 10 years have passed when you go back? And what the hell did “Cyan” mean about meeting your soulmate in your-

“Y/N! Are you awake? You’re supposed to leave in 20 minutes!”

Everywhere you turned, people were always talking about soulmates. Was there ever a time that we didn’t ever know who our soulmate is? How are we able to communicate with each other in our dreams? What about the people who don’t actually end up with their soulmate in the end? But you didn’t care about that. Especially in this very moment. Soulmates, in fact, aren’t real at all.

At least, you wish they weren’t real right now.

Because then Doyoung wouldn’t have broken up with you just because he finally dreamt about his soulmate last night. You’d probably be with him right now, watching whatever cult classic movie he thinks you just have to see because you made a comment once about never watching Fight Club during 8th grade. If he hadn’t had that dumb dream, your 2 year relationship wouldn’t be a flaming pile of garbage right now and you wouldn’t have the new drugstore eyeliner that Yejin had recommended to you running down your face.

“Wanna see this video that Xiaojun sent me of his dog?” Kun asks you, effectively breaking the hour of silence that the two of you have been sitting in, the only noise coming from your spontaneous bouts of crying and the videos on Kun’s phone as he scrolls through TikTok. After seeing that state that you were in at school when Doyoung broke up with you that morning, Kun knew that he wasn’t going to leave you alone today. You turn over to face him with a sigh, your head propped up on your hand as you watch Kun’s cousin’s dog run around their living room. But even an overexcited puppy isn’t enough to lift your spirits, something that Kun notices immediately and he frowns. “Listen, Doyoung didn’t deserve you and you know that and if given permission, I wouldn’t hesitate to dropkick him for you. You’ll find your soulmate eventually, and I’m sure they’ll be everything you actually need in a partner.”

You wrinkle your nose at his words; you and Kun have been best friends since you were 5 so it’s weird to hear him saying this cheesy stuff to you sometimes. “That was really nice and I really appreciate that, Kun, but please don’t tell me that you’re about to confess your feelings to me.” You laugh loudly when your best friend shoves you, returning his glare with a smirk as you attempt to smother him in a hug. “I’ll always love you but-”

“Y/N, I’m just trying to be a good best friend,” Kun rolls his eyes as he goes back to looking at his phone. “Your life isn’t one of those fanfictions you used to read when you were 15.”

“Yeah because if it were, the universe wouldn’t have made my boyfriend of 2 years dump me the day before my birthday!”

That night, you roll over in your bed for what feels like the millionth time. You check the time on your phone again and groan at the late hour, mentally preparing yourself for the exhaustion that you’re bound to feel tomorrow. You wonder if turning 18 will feel any different. Will you dream about your soulmate tonight? Not like you’re too eager to talk to any guy in a non-platonic way but it would still be cool. You wonder what they’re like; what’s their favorite color, what’s their favorite place to go to clear their head, do they like to look at the stars just as much as you do? You feel yourself grow tired as you think about your soulmate and force yourself to not think about Doyoung, your eyes finally closing as you wonder if your soulmate likes flowers.

“Thanks for coming tonight. Want some cake?”

Someone places a slice of cake into your hands and when you look up to thank the person, all you can see are deep brown eyes. Both literally and figuratively; their eyes are very nice but they’re also blurry. You blink a couple of times and squint to get a better look at them but even when they’re standing so close to you, you can’t seem to make out any distinct features at all. You look around at all of the other partygoers and find that you can see them all just fine, so why can’t you see this person?

“My name’s Taeyong. And judging by the fact that you’re the only person in here that I can’t see, I’m going to guess that you’re my soulmate and you also can’t see me. Am I right?” they say to you, and even though you can’t see him, you can tell that there’s a smile on his face.

You stick your hand out and, even though he can’t see you, you smile at Taeyong. “My name is Y/N.”

Taeyong shakes your hand but rather than letting go, his grip tightens ever so slightly and his hand slides across yours to grip it as he leads you away from the spot you were standing in. He takes you outside, the cool night air refreshing on your skin and the moonlight making everything glow ethereally. He sits on the grass in the middle of the yard and gestures for you to do the same, laughing quietly to himself when he sees you looking up at the night sky in awe. You take a seat next time, your eyes never leaving in the sky as you whisper, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen this many stars before.”

“Do you like looking at the stars?” Taeyong asks.

You nod, your gaze finally leaving the sky above you to look at the boy next to you. “They’re pretty. And they make me feel… seen. The light from those stars, which are most definitely dead by now, travelled millions of light years just for us to see them, and they see us too. I don’t really know how to explain it but looking at the stars just makes me feel like everything is going to be okay.”

“Whenever I visited my grandparents, my grandpa would take me outside and show me all of these constellations using his telescope. Everything I know about the stars and the planets are because of him.” Taeyong goes quiet and you wait. From the way he’s looking down and pulling up blades of grass, you can tell that what he’s going to say next is important. “He died when I was 16. Some drunk driver who couldn’t tell the difference between the road and the sidewalk. I was so sad after he died.” You place your hand on his knee as a sign of comfort, not wanting to push him since you two just met. He lets out a mirthless laugh and you can’t help but smile sympathetically. “I stayed with my grandma for that entire summer after it happened. One night I was using his telescope and I couldn’t get it to focus properly and I just got so mad that I broke it. I cried after that and my grandma found me the next morning, sleeping out in the yard next to the broken telescope. She yelled at me, not because I broke his telescope, but because I could’ve gotten sick.”

“He sounds like a great man,” you murmur. “I’m sure he’s proud of you and that he misses you just as much as you miss him.”

Taeyong hums beside you, the two of you continuing to look up at the stars in silence. “So,” he says loudly to break the silence. “Any sad childhood stories you want to tell me? Since apparently I’ve decided that that’s what we’re going to do the first time that we meet.”

You burst out laughing at that, and even though you just got your heartbroken, you think that having a soulmate won’t be that bad after all. “I think we’re going to have to at least be friends before I tell you all about my traumas.”

The boy beside you gets up and offers a hand down to you, helping you stand up. “Friends?” he asks incredulously. “We’re soulmates!”

“All I know about you is that your name is Taeyong and that you broke your dead grandpa’s telescope while stargazing,” you point out.

You turn to look at him and your breath hitches, finally noticing that Taeyong is completely facing you and is standing very close to you. He takes both his hands in yours and you look up at him, and even though you couldn’t make out his facial features, you could feel his hands in yours and the warmth radiating off of him and that was enough. There’s this inexplicable pull in your stomach that makes you want to move even closer to him and just as you can feel yourself lift your foot up to take that first step, you panic and take a giant step back instead, letting Taeyong’s hands fall to his side.

“I’m sorry, did I do something wrong? Did I say something to offend you?” your soulmate asks, taking a step towards you but stopping when you put your hands up.

“You didn’t do anything, Taeyong, don’t worry,” you reassure him. “It’s just that…” You bite your lower lip in worry, wondering if talking about your personal life was appropriate in this situation. But he did just tell you something personal about him- “My boyfriend of 2 years broke up with me today so I’m not looking to rush into anything any time soon. I know that we’re soulmates but I need time to heal and be my own person.”

Taeyong doesn’t say anything for a bit and you wonder if you’ve told him too much. Just as you begin to think of ways to stop yourself from sleeping ever again so you don’t have to see him, he surprises you. “Out of all the people the universe could have put me together with, it just had to be you. I think we’re going to be great friends in no time!”

He holds his hand out for you and you take it, allowing him to lead you back to the party.

When you wake up, the first thing you see are the glow-in-the-dark stars on your ceiling. Even though they’re nothing like the ones you saw in your dream, you can’t help but think of your soulmate’s grandfather. After a few minutes, you realize that you don’t remember your soulmate’s name or the story he told you about his grandfather.

“Great, so all I know about him is that he likes to stargaze with his grandpa-”

“Y/N, who are you talking to? Are you getting ready for school?”

Your meetings with Taeyong usually consist of you trying to remember at least one thing about the other, hoping that the repetition will be enough to get something to stick when you wake up that morning. The two of you are in Taeyong’s dream tonight (as you usually are since you rarely dream and if you do, usually it’s about someone trying to kill you), walking through a park full of cherry blossom trees with your arms linked together. He leads you over to a bench where you both sit in silence for a bit, the two of you lost in your own separate thoughts.

“So,” Taeyong says to break the silence. “We both leave for university tomorrow.”

You look over at him to find him already looking at you, and even though you can’t see him, you know that you share the same feelings he’s experiencing right now. “I know, it’ll be weird, right? One step closer to being in the adult world and all that. What higher power decided that I’m capable of being an adult?”

Taeyong’s hand brushes over yours and hovers hesitantly before taking it in his own. You let it happen because you know that he doesn’t mean anything by it. He’s just as scared as you are, so why not find comfort in the person that’s supposed to be in your life forever? You squeeze his hand and rest your head on his shoulder, inhaling the sweet scent of the cherry blossoms before sighing deeply. Everything is about to change.

Your soulmate hums in consideration, shifting his body closer to you to make you more comfortable. “Well I don’t know about you, but I’m not going to college so I can be an adult,” he confesses. “I’m going because I want to get drunk off my ass with my friends.”

You roll your eyes at his joke, sitting up straight so you could playfully shove him. “Oh shut up, Taeyong, you know you’re gonna be the best astronomer out there.”

He shrugs in response, fiddling with your hand in his lap as he looks out at the trees in front of you. “We’ll see. Life is crazy; we might end up somewhere we weren’t even expecting.”

And Taeyong was right. Life is crazy. Yours and Taeyong’s first year at university was hard. You were pursuing a major in economics while Taeyong was pursuing a major in physics with a concentration in astronomy. The two of you were so stressed your first year that you barely got to meet in your dreams because neither of you had any; you just slept. Your lives were: wake up, go to class, do work for the rest of the day, find some time to eat in between all of that, and then sleep just enough to keep you alive.

But you knew that you couldn’t do this for another 3 years. You ended up switching to a major in food science and nutrition with a minor in business while Taeyong switched to a major in plant science. During your time at university, the two of you tried as best as you could to remember where the other went to school so you could try to meet somewhere in the middle but the most you could remember by the end of your third year was that you both go to school in Seoul.

(“You remember that we’re both in Seoul, so that’s good!” Taeyong reassures you one night as you whine about still not being able to meet each other. “We’re one step closer!”

“Yong, Seoul is huge and there’s so many universities here. How are we supposed to narrow it down?” you pout as you lean forward to rest your forehead against his chest.

Taeyong sighs and pats your head, not knowing what else to say because he knows you’re right. But he won’t give up hope; he knows he’ll see you soon. Just as he’s about to answer, the room around you goes dark and you hear the creaking of floorboards above you. He can see the fear in your eyes when he meets your gaze and his heart begins to pound. There’s a loud bang from upstairs and you immediately run out of the building you were in.

“You know, I’m really starting to hate your dreams. Maybe this is why we can’t remember anything, because we’re too busy running for our lives like we’re in a horror movie!”

When you woke up that morning, all you could remember was that he hates being in your dreams.)

By the beginning of your last year, the two of you agreed to stop trying so hard to meet each other. You assume that the universe just isn’t ready for the two of you to meet yet so you might as well enjoy just spending time with each other. Taeyong agrees and surprisingly, it works. You start to remember more and more about him—small things like his dog’s name and that the scar next to his eye resembles a rose—so you start to write them down. You even make a list of things that happen every day that you would want to tell him just in case you see each other that night.

Last night, you finally remembered the recipe for his banana bread, something that took you nearly an entire year to learn. You grab your journal from your desk and write down the recipe, humming in satisfaction when you write down the last ingredient. You read over the other things you’ve learned about Taeyong over the years—his favorite color is pink, he has a dog named Ruby and she is one of the 4 most important women in his life (“Who are the others?” “You, my mom, and my sister obviously!”), he has 4 tattoos—and hear his voice in the back of your head from your first year reassuring you.

We’re one step closer.

You place the finished drink on the counter just as the bell above the door jingles, alerting you to your first customer of the day. “One medium iced caramel macchiato with almond milk,” you announce, holding out a straw and napkin for Kun to take as he walks up to you with half-closed eyes. “Busy night last night?” you tease him as he takes his first sip, laughing when you see his body relax at the first taste of caffeine. “That one’s on me since you look like you need it.”

“Xiaojun had his friends over last night,” Kun complains as he takes a seat at the counter to be near you, tracing the letters of the coffee shop's name that’s on the cup sleeve as he talks. “It’s nice living with him since we’re cousins and all but him and his friends are such enablers. But I beat all of them at Mario Kart last night, so it was worth it I guess.”

You hum in understanding and pick up a towel to clean off the counters, knowing that the usual morning rush would come in soon and you wouldn’t get a chance to clean when it did. “So what I’m hearing is that it’s actually your fault, is that right?”

“They’re enablers, Y/N, I’m telling you!” your best friend protests, his words a bit muffled due to the straw in his mouth as he takes another sip. “They know that I can’t resist playing Mario Kart when I’m drunk!”

“They got you drunk?” you repeat. “I’m starting to think that I don’t even know who you are anymore, Kun. Getting drunk on a Sunday night knowing you have work the next morning? Doesn’t sound like my best friend if you ask me.”

Kun rolls his eyes at you but just as he’s about to respond, the bell above the door jingles (quite violently) and another customer walks in with a “Good morning, Busy Bean!” You look up to find Donghyuck walking towards you, a wide smile on his face and his right hand hidden behind his back.

“And that’s my cue to leave,” Kun grumbles, gathering up his stuff as soon as he hears the younger boy’s voice.

You laugh at that, knowing that the only reason Kun dislikes Donghyuck is because he works for the new florist across the street. But Kun’s just funny like that sometimes. He had been the only florist in town and everybody knew about his shop, A Thousand Petals. The place was beautiful and Kun was good at what he did. But then a couple of months ago, the competition rolled in. At least, that’s what it was for him. To you, the new flower shop across the street from you meant nothing other than the fact that they had replaced the burger joint that nobody went to. And let’s just say that Kun didn’t appreciate being surprised with competition on a Monday morning while being handed his daily macchiato. You gave him free coffee for a week to make up for it.

“Bye Kun!” Donghyuck shouts happily, waving to him energetically even though your best friend only grunts in response. He walks up to the counter and reveals what he was hiding behind his back: a bundle of daisies. “Some pretty flowers for a pretty girl,” he says as he hands them over to you.

You accept them with a smile, thanking him as you put them in a mason jar in front of the register. “What’ll it be today, sunshine? The usual?” you ask, even though you’re already punching in the order for 2 iced Americanos.

Donghyuck blushes at your nickname for him and his lovestruck eyes staring at you doesn’t escape your notice. You’ve grown used to the boy’s antics and know that his flirting is meaningless. “Nope,” he replies, popping the ‘p’ as he leans against the counter. “Just a muffin please. And can I get it warm?”

You nod and put in his order, taking his cash and then smiling when you see him put the change in the tip jar. “So why no coffee today?” you ask as you put his muffin in the oven. “You guys find a place better than mine?”

The boy’s jaw drops at this, his posture straightening as he looks at you in shock. “Y/N, how dare you even suggest that. You know that there’s no coffee place better than yours!” He takes one of the flowers from the jar and starts fiddling with it, his smile widening when Johnny, one of your employees, comes out from the back. “Johnny!”

Johnny’s eyes widen at the sight of him and he freezes, his cup of coffee only midway to his mouth. “Damn, I thought you’d be gone already,” he mumbles, the two of you laughing as the boy starts fake crying. Johnny takes out the muffin from the oven and hands it to Hyuck after putting it in a bag. “Thanks for coming to The Busy Bean, we hope to never see you again.”

You push Johnny on to the floor, throwing a towel at his face as you chuckle. “Johnny, stop being mean to Hyuck and go clean the tables before Mrs. Choi complains again about them being dirty.” You ignore his noise of complaint in favor of turning back to the boy still in front of you who’s already started eating.

“His Majesty doesn’t want coffee yet,” he shrugs, crumbs falling from his mouth as he answers your question. “But you know he’s a caffeine addict so he’ll probably send me over during my lunch break.” He throws out the bag and puts the flower that he left lying on the counter back into the jar. “Speaking of which, I should probably head back. See you in a few hours!”

You wave goodbye to him and watch as he crosses the street to the flower shop. Donghyuck is an interesting kid. When you first look at him, you wouldn’t think that he works at a flower shop but you found out he’s only working there for the summer because he starts university in the fall. And his cousin’s the one that owns the place so it was a guaranteed job (“My mom and his mom actually had to convince him to let me work there but you know, I basically already had it.”). Ever since he first walked into your store, he’s been trying to set you up with his cousin, swearing up and down that the two of you would be great together. You’ve always laughed it off though since you weren’t particularly looking for anything and you weren’t about to take advice from an 18 year old.

“Here they come,” Johnny announces, running back to stand behind the counter with you as the morning rush comes in. You notice that the crowd seems to be bigger than usual and you feel nervous; The Busy Bean had just recently gone through some construction and had expanded but your new employees haven’t finished training so they can’t start working until next week. Johnny can tell that you’re nervous and places a hand on your shoulder, and when you look up at him, you see him smiling down at you. “Don’t be nervous, we’ll be fine! We always are.”

When you were in college, Johnny was the first friend that you made. Being without Kun was weird and scary even though he was only a 30 minute subway ride away from you but luckily, the boy living across the hall from you was there to provide you with company. The two of you did everything together—when you weren’t busy with labs and presentations and he wasn’t busy with his research and papers, that is. You even applied for jobs at the Starbucks on campus at the beginning of your junior year, and you were pretty sure the manager would have fired the both of you for always goofing off if you weren’t his best employees.

But the day that you knew he was going to be in your life for a long time was when you finally told him your dream of opening your own coffee shop. It was something that only Kun knew, too embarrassed to tell anyone else after your parents had told you that it would never happen. Johnny had surprised you that day, promising to be your first employee once it happened. You watch him from your place behind the coffee machine, watching him talk to Mr. Park from the restaurant that the two of you always go to with a smile on his face. Aside from Kun and your store, Johnny is all you have and when he notices you staring at him and makes a face at you, you thank the universe for putting him in your life.

“I have returned!” Donghyuck announces when he walks into the cafe, true to his word about returning during his lunch break. Behind him is a man who looks to be only a few years older than him with hair the exact same color as coffee foam. You’ve never seen him before but Hyuck apparently knows him as you watch him drag the older boy up to the counter. “2 medium iced Americanos please,” he says to Johnny in a cute voice, pouting when the man behind the register denies him his order with no emotion in his voice.

“Where’s your manager? I need to tell her you’re being mean to me,” Hyuck says as he sticks his tongue out at Johnny. You walk over with their coffee and place it down on the counter with a laugh, bumping Johnny with your hip to get him away from the register.

“Maybe Johnny wouldn’t be mean to you if you didn’t try to annoy him every time you’re here, sunshine,” you tease him as you take his money. Johnny hands them straws and napkins, making sure to stick his tongue out at the teenager in retaliation. You shake your head at him when he sees that you notice. You’re surrounded by children.

“Oh, this is the owner of The Busy Bean by the way,” Hyuck says to his cousin, smirking when he notices a blush beginning to form on his cheeks. “You know, the girl that you said you think is cute when you first saw h-”

“Hi, nice to meet you,” the older boy greets you very loudly as he cuts off Donghyuck, reaching out to shake your hand with blazing cheeks. “I’m- Uh- I-I’m TY.”

You shake his hand as you stifle a giggle, finding the blush on his face cute. Donghyuck on the other hand does nothing to hide his laugh, just narrowly avoiding an elbow in his side from his cousin. “Nice to meet you, Your Majesty. I wasn’t aware that I would be in the presence of royalty today otherwise I would have rolled out the red carpet.”

“I wasn’t aware that, uh, you have such a nice smile,” the florist compliments you, making you smile as you thank him. “Your teeth are pretty,” he blurts out and you feel your smile falter as you process the compliment. Your teeth are… pretty? Johnny and Hyuck attempt to stifle their laughter at the man’s outburst, the man in question turning red as a tomato when he realizes what he said to you. He slowly starts to back away, pulling Donghyuck by the back his shirt towards the exit as he stutters out, “U-Uh I mean- S-Sorry that was weird- You uh-”

“Watch out!” you warn him, noticing a customer looking down at their phone pushing open the door right into his back.

TY lets out an ‘oof!’ as the door hits him, stumbling forward and tripping over his own feet to regain his balance. The coffee in his hand wasn’t so lucky however, spilling all over the floor and some of it even getting on Hyuck’s white shoes. The two of them quickly rush over to get napkins, TY sputtering out apology after apology as he cleans up the mess on the floor while his cousin whines about the coffee on his new shoes. You quickly get to work on making him a new coffee while Johnny deals with the new customer.

The pair quickly exit after you give TY his coffee, and you’re able to hear Hyuck saying, “I’m telling your mom that you spilled coffee on my new shoes. Also who the fuck calls you ‘TY’, why didn’t you just tell your name like a normal person? I can’t believe I’m related to-” before the door closes.

“Do you think that guy’s ever gonna come back?” Johnny asks you after the customer had left, gesturing towards the flower shop.

You can see Hyuck dancing in the middle of the store while the owner laughs and you can’t help but smile. You wonder what his laugh sounds like. “I hope so.”

As you’re getting ready for bed that night, you open up the notes app on your phone to read over what you wanted to tell Taeyong about in case you saw him tonight. Even on slow days, you usually have at least one or two things to tell him, but tonight you find it empty. You hadn’t thought about him all day.

Taeyong surprises both himself and Hyuck when he decides to go back to The Busy Bean only a week after what his cousin likes to call The Incident™ (he even says “trademark” out loud, what a weirdo). The man usually isn’t one to be this brave but he can’t deny the pull that he feels towards you. You’re cute, you have a nice laugh, and he wants to make you smile again. And your iced Americanos are unmatched. Starbucks who?

Walking into the cafe, he immediately feels his hands start to sweat at the sight of you. Your hair looks extra shiny today and you’re dancing along to the song that’s playing with Johnny (kind of badly, but it’s pretty cute). Taking a deep breath, he repeats the simple order in his head one more time. One medium iced Americano, one medium iced caramel coffee, and 2 cake pops. (“If I don’t get to go, then you have to make it up to me somehow!” Hyuck protested when Taeyong told him to watch the store while he went to get coffee. So cake pops it is.) When you see Taeyong walking towards the counter, you give him the biggest smile and he swears his heart skips a beat. He knows he’s going to end up with Y/N eventually but wow, this girl sure knows how to take his breath away.

“Welcome back, Your Majesty,” you greet him, your cheeks still slightly pink from your laughing and dancing. Taeyong notices a daisy tucked behind your ear and he realizes that it’s one of the daisies that he had shoved into Hyuck’s hands and told him to bring when he went to the store just last week. The man feels his heart skip a beat at that; you look like a goddess. “Didn’t think we would see you back here so soon. Our red carpet is at the dry cleaner’s unfortunately.”

“Oh, that’s okay,” Taeyong shrugs, playing along with your teasing. “I get treated better here than I do at my own shop anyways. Hyuck won’t stop bringing up last week to literally everyone we know.” He blushes when he brings up the events of last week but he feels immensely better when you laugh. “Thank you for replacing my coffee by the way. I can pay for it now since I left so quickly last time.”

“That one was on the house,” you say, waving your hand in the air. “Anyways, what can I get for you today?”

Taeyong makes sure to come back at least twice a week after that, much to Donghyuck’s dismay. Each time he comes, he has to force himself to go back to his own store rather than staying and talking with you and Johnny. He finds himself growing more and more comfortable with your presence, his words coming more easily to him the more he’s around you. The conversation even turns flirty at some point, something that he didn’t even think he was capable of since graduating college. Sure he’s had a few lay it on pretty thick with him when they come into the store but middle aged women aren’t exactly his type. You are more his type, if he’s being honest. You and his soulmate, Y-

“Your name is Y/N?!” Taeyong all but squeaks out, his voice cracking as he drags his eyes from Johnny to you. Could you be…?

Both you and Johnny blink at him, not understanding where this sudden outburst came from. “Uh yeah, why? Is there something wrong with that?” you joke as you continue to make his drink.

Taeyong mentally shakes it off, subtly rolling his shoulders to rid himself of the unnecessary excitement he just felt. It’s probably just a coincidence. The universe seems to like mocking him, apparently. There’s no way he would just randomly find his soulmate like this. He couldn’t even remember where she ended up living after graduating college. “It’s nothing,” he says while shaking his head, giving Johnny a small smile as he hands over his cash. He notices the withering daisies in front of the register and makes a mental note to bring some fresh ones next time. “I’ve just always liked that name. I think it’s pretty.”

When you first created The Busy Bean, you hadn’t thought of incorporating flowers until Kun brought up that you had said you wanted to make it stand out from other cafes. That and the fact that the store’s name is based off of “a busy bee” and that, in the words of Kun, “your best friend just so happens to be the owner of the best flower shop in the city.” Unfortunately for you, your best friend and the owner of the best flower shop in the city won’t be around for an entire week because of a family emergency. And because of the store’s recent expansion and being so busy with training all of your new hires, it had completely slipped your mind to order new flowers for next month’s theme. When you had said all of this to Johnny during a lull in the morning rush, all he said in response was, “That’s rough, buddy.” (The two of you have been rewatching Avatar: The Last Airbender together recently.) What a great best friend.

After making sure that Johnny and the new hires knew exactly what they would be doing during the closing shift, you take a deep breath and do the one thing that you know Kun will never forgive you for once he finds out. “He’ll forgive you, you have no other choice,” you whisper to yourself as you cross the street towards Bloomin’ Love. You open the door and are greeted by the fresh smell of flowers, a Yiruma song softly playing in the background and fitting the atmosphere perfectly as the setting sun shines golden light into the store. It felt like you had entered a magical world.

“Welcome to Bloomin’ Love,” Hyuck greets you, not even looking up from his phone as he leans against the front counter. “Is there anything I can help you with today?”

“I don’t think your boss would be very happy if he found out that you were using your phone while there’s a customer in the store,” you tease him as you walk up to the counter, laughing when Hyuck scrambles to hide his phone and looks up with wide eyes.

The boy’s shoulders immediately deflate when he sees that it’s just you, placing his phone in front of him as he smiles at you. “Y/N, I didn’t think I would ever see you in here. Did you and Kun get into a fight or something? Did he finally get mad that you’re ‘fraternizing with the enemy’s cousin because I’m trying to get you to fraternize with the enemy’?”

You shake your head, explaining, “Kun’s out of town, he has no idea that I’m here right now. I actually need to talk to TY, is he here? I have a big order because I need new flowers for The Busy Bean next month.”

Donghyuck nods as he points towards the back, an area that you assume is restricted to customers since it’s behind the counter. “He’s in his office right now. Let me just tell him you’re here really quickly.”

He walks away quickly before you even have a chance to nod, so you take a look at the flowers around the shop. Directly behind you are bouquets of roses but what really strikes your interest are the magnolia flowers and plum blossoms along your left. You lean down to smell them, their floral scent overwhelming your senses and making you feel even calmer than you already did.

“Plum blossoms are one of my favorite flowers,” a voice says from behind you, making you jump and bump into whoever it was. You feel hands on your waist that help steady you as you sway on your feet, your eyes coming up to meet those of the man you were looking for. “Sorry about that,” TY chuckles, the tips of his ears pink as he withdraws his hands from you. “I didn’t mean to scare you. Donghyuck said you’re looking for me?”

You nod frantically, before explaining your situation to him, his eyes never leaving you as you talk. “I usually give Kun complete creative control because I don’t know much about flowers and which ones bloom during which season.”

TY nods understandingly, humming as he thinks and scans over the various plants in the store. “Flowers that only bloom during spring…” He begins to walk around, with you following a few steps behind him, his hands hovering over the flowers and his fingers occasionally brushing over their petals as he looks at each one carefully. TY suddenly stops in his tracks, one hand resting on a peony before he suddenly turns to you with a wide grin on his face. “I think I have some ideas.”

The florist brings you back to his office, and you think you see Hyuck wink at the both of you as you follow his cousin to the back but when you get a closer look, the boy’s already assumed his previous position of scrolling on his phone. As of recently, the teenager has been teasing you more and more for what he assumes are the beginnings of feelings for his cousin. And even though you swear up and down that the two of you are just friends, you can’t help but think about the possibilities some nights. Which makes you feel guilty because what about Taeyong? Your dreams with him have felt different lately, both of you distracted at one point or another, the conversation becoming awkward at some points because the both of you know that something has changed. Is this the universe testing you? Putting a man that you feel yourself growing more and more fond of with every passing day just to see if you’ll reject him in favor of the partner that it has chosen for you?

“Y/N?” the florist calls out, his hand waving in front of your face to get your attention. You jump slightly in your seat, eyes meeting his after you’re pulled out of your thoughts. “You still with me? I asked if you could give me a floor plan or something of where you put all of your flowers.”

“Oh sorry,” you apologize, heart pounding in your chest at getting caught zoning out. You pull the floor plan that you and Kun had first made 2 years ago and hand it over to TY, your eyes tracing the veins in his hands as he smooths out the paper on his desk. His hands look like they would be really nice to hold. Wait what? No, stop, think about Taeyong.

TY shares his general thought process with you, lightly drawing circles and arrows on the paper to show you where he pictures bunches of hyacinth and jasmine would be. Names like Barberton daisy, dogwood, azalea, and peony are mentioned while you nod along enthusiastically, not really knowing what any of them look like but trusting the vision in the man’s head completely. As he’s talking, you can’t help but get lost in the sound of his voice, the passion and flow of his words making your heart swell. As guilty as it makes you feel, you couldn’t help the feelings that you could feel blooming in your heart for the florist.

The two of you stand once TY is done sharing his ideas and you’ve run out of questions to ask. You force yourself to leave rather than think up an excuse to spend more time with him, his laughter paired with the way he looks at you dangerous for your pounding heart and overly imaginative brain. He says goodbye to you with a wave but not before handing you a business card with the store’s number should you have any more questions. As you’re walking out, you can hear Hyuck teasing his cousin, and when you turn around to spare TY one last glance, you can see a blush on his cheeks as he quickly looks away, as if he was caught staring.

Just before you get into bed that night, you take one last look at the business card that you had been given just hours ago. When you read the name on the card, you feel as if time itself has come to a stop. Your breathing turns shallow as you bring the card closer to you, squeezing your eyes shut and then opening them just in case it was some weird trick of the light. But it wasn’t. Right there on the card is the one name that you weren’t expecting at all.

Lee Taeyong.

It’s just a dream, it’s just a dream, it’s just a-

You feel yourself being pulled down into the water, a hand wrapped around your ankle dragging you down to the bottom of the pool. You kick with all of your strength at the invisible attacker, your lungs screaming for air as you thrash in the water. A pair of arms wrap around your waist and pull you out of the water, the person screaming at you to stand as they tug on your arm. Coughing your lungs out, you can just barely make out Taeyong’s blurry form as he runs out onto the empty street with your hand in his.

Suddenly, an SUV with its lights on appears behind you, the driver revving the engine and accelerating very quickly towards the two of you. You just barely dodge it, the vehicle only inches away from Taeyong’s body as you pull him towards a dark house. You climb over fences and run through yards, neither of you daring to say a word in fear of whoever is after you being near. Your hand stays in his the entire time, too scared of getting separated to let go.

You see a light approaching you and duck behind some garbage cans, willing your breathing and heart rate to slow so that you could listen for any footsteps. Taeyong quivers beside you in fear, his hand squeezing yours and when you look over at him, you can only imagine how scared he must look right now. Looking at him, you realize that there was something you wanted to talk about tonight but with every single nerve being on edge since you’re, you know, running for your life, you can’t remember what it is for the life of you. Lights from the SUV pass by, gravel crunching underneath the tires as the car goes by you very slowly. You pray to every higher power out there that they don’t catch you and you release a quiet sigh of relief when you see the car turn and drive farther away from you.

“Have I ever told you how much I hate being in your dreams?” Taeyong murmurs, his grip on your hand loosening but still not letting go. “Because I really hate being here right now.”

You huff out a laugh before slowly standing up to brush the dirt off of you. Just as you’re about to respond, you feel a hand clap over your mouth, Taeyong’s eyes widening as he screams and reaches out for you. Something sharp presses against your back just as you hear a gunshot, blood quickly soaking into Taeyong’s pants from getting shot in the thigh, before everything goes black.

You have to stop yourself from looking over your shoulder every 5 minutes because of the intense nightmare that you had yesterday. The feeling of being watched lingered with you all morning, something that Johnny noticed and was concerned about at first until you told him the reason you were acting so paranoid and jumpy. Then he just ended up teasing you and even scared you in front of a customer, falling on the floor laughing when it happened. But you couldn’t help it, the dream just felt so real and it didn’t help that Taeyong, an actual person, was there with you to make it seem all the more real. You wonder how he must be handling it, you know he’s not the biggest fan of horror movies or scary things in general.

You decide to visit Bloomin’ Love during your lunch break, the questions that you wanted to ask Taeyong still unanswered. But if you’re right and Taeyong actually is TY, then you would get your answer in a few minutes. Except it turns out that you won’t be getting your answers today.

“What do you mean he’s not here?” you ask Hyuck in disbelief, even looking towards the back to check if the office light is on in case he’s just playing a joke. “He’s your boss and one of the two people that work here, why are you here and he isn’t?”

The boy shrugs before hopping up to sit on the counter, long legs swinging as he bops along to the music that’s playing from what you assume is his own playlist. “He was here when I got here this morning but then he left after an hour and told me he’s taking the rest of the day off because he’s been feeling anxious all morning. Something about having a nightmare last night? It must have been really bad for him to take a day off because you and I both know that this store is basically his baby.”

He had a nightmare?

The bell above the door jingles as a customer comes in and immediately approaches the two of you to ask for help. You back away to let Hyuck do his job, bidding him goodbye before heading back to The Busy Bean. Hyuck’s words swirl around your head, the conversation replaying over and over as you take out the business card that you put in your pocket this morning to look at the name printed on it.

Taeyong. Lee Taeyong, the owner of Bloomin’ Love. Lee Taeyong, who introduced himself to you as TY. Lee Taeyong, your soulmate.

After that, you become distracted during work, your eyes constantly looking at the clock to see how much longer until your shift is over. Of course the one day that you find out who your soulmate is, the one day that it would be super convenient to be able to leave work early, is the day one of your new workers can’t come in because they got food poisoning the night before. You don’t even know what you’re going to do once your shift is over though. The number on the card is the store number and you already know that Taeyong isn’t there. Maybe you could just ask Hyuck to give you his number? But then what? What would you even say? “Hey TY, it’s Y/N. Hyuck told me that you had a nightmare last night so I think you might be my soulmate”?

The universe, however, seems to have your back. At the end of your shift, just as you’re saying goodbye to Johnny and Jaemin, one of your new hires, you hear a very familiar voice call out your name. And when you turn around, there stands the exact man that you’ve been hoping but not expecting to see all day. You can’t help but smile widely when you see him and nod when he asks if you want to sit.

“These are for you, by the way,” he says as he gives you a small bouquet of pink forget-me-nots. “Pink is my favorite color but they reminded me of you when I saw them in the store just now.”

You thank them as you take the flowers from his hands, inhaling deeply before placing them down on the table. “You were in the store? Hyuck told me you took the day off.”

“I stopped by just to make sure he didn’t burn the place down,” TY chuckles and he sounds… nervous? Looking at him, you notice that he’s barely making eye contact with you, taking more interest in tracing the tattoo of a lavender plant that’s on his inner forearm. You wonder if he knows what you know, or at least what you think you know. You wonder if maybe he’s even known this entire time.

“Do you have a soulmate, TY?” you blurt out, too impatient to indulge him with more small talk.

He looks up at you with wide eyes at your question and you watch as the tips of his ears turn red. “I-I do,” he responds while nodding simultaneously.

“What are they like?” you ask him, telling yourself to calm down and to make sure that you’re right. It would be really embarrassing if you aren’t.

“She’s the girl of my dreams,” he jokes, laughing loudly when you groan and roll your eyes at his dumb joke. “She really is though. She’s really smart and knows exactly what she wants from life. She’s extremely hard-working but she also knows when she needs to stop and relax. She really likes strawberry cake and also likes stargazing. I actually tried making a move on her when we first met because I was young and dumb but then she told me that her boyfriend of 2 years had just broken up with her, so I felt extremely stupid that night.”

You feel like your heart is about to burst out of your chest at his words and you know that you must have a funny look on your face because TY- no, Taeyong is looking at you strangely. “What about you?” he asks, his wide eyes and head that’s tilted slightly to the side reminding you of a puppy. “What’s your soulmate like?”

You laugh and take a deep breath, mustering all of the courage to pour all of the love you’ve been wanting to show Taeyong all these years into your words. “He’s the best, honestly, I’m really lucky that he’s my soulmate,” you say softly, your eyes not once leaving Taeyong’s as you speak. “He’s really goofy and not at all afraid to be who he is. He’s very supportive too; Johnny and Kun were always there for me when college got hard, especially when I switched my major, but it was his words that always kept me going. His favorite color is pink and he absolutely adores his mom, he swears up and down that her kimchi jjigae is the best in the entire world. When we first met, he-”

You stop to look at Taeyong and you see tears in his eyes, a soft smile on his face as he listens to you talk. You take a shuddering breath and lift your hand to gently take his hand in yours; he knows. “When we first met, he told me about his grandpa and how his love for the stars came from him.” You see a single tear cascade down Taeyong’s cheek and you reach out to wipe it away. With a watery laugh, you say, “He also told me that he ended up breaking his grandpa’s telescope after he died.”

Taeyong rests his forehead against your joined hands as he laughs, his eyelashes wet with tears and his eyes shining when he looks back up at you. “I finally found you,” he whispers in awe. “After all of these years, the universe finally put you right in front of me and I didn’t even know.”

“That day, when you said that you think my name is pretty,” you say, his words playing in your mind as you remember the day you’re talking about, “did you know?”

“I was suspicious but I thought it was too good to be true,” Taeyong says as he shakes his head in disbelief. “I thought that there was no way that the girl I’ve been dreaming about for 6 years just so happens to own the coffee shop across the street.” He raises your hands to his lip to kiss the back of yours and you feel so happy that it feels like you’re practically vibrating in your seat.

You’re about to respond when you hear Johnny call out, “Hey lovebirds, keep it PG! There are kids in here!” The two of you turn your heads towards the direction of his voice to find not only Johnny behind the counter but also Kun and Hyuck standing there.

“Did you forget about our plans, Y/N?” Kun calls out teasingly, a smirk on his face as his eyes flicker from your hand in Taeyong’s to your face.

“Oh fuck,” you whisper, head turning to look at Taeyong with wide eyes.

He smiles at you reassuringly, kissing the back of your hand once more before letting go. “I’ll call you later?”

You nod enthusiastically, the two of you exchanging numbers before you stand up. You look up at Taeyong, not yet wanting to leave his presence. You can feel the warmth radiating off of his body and there’s a familiar pull in your stomach and this time, you allow yourself to indulge in it. He leans down just as you lean up, and as cliche as it is, it really does feel like you’re the only two there when you kiss. Taeyong tugs one of the flowers from your grasp and breaks off part of the stem, tucking the forget-me-not behind your ear and rubbing your cheek with his thumb before pressing one more kiss to your forehead and murmuring a “see you tomorrow” against your skin.

Waking up the next morning, you let yourself indulge in thoughts of yesterday, the events leading up to the kiss replaying in your head and making butterflies erupt in your stomach all over again. You and Taeyong had agreed to go on your first date today after work and you wish that someone could invent a time machine so you could just skip the work day and go on your date already.

You sit up in bed and feel every ounce of happiness drain out of you, your surroundings unfamiliar to you. The walls are still the same color but the books on your shelf are different, your floor is carpeted, and who the heck are those people you’re with in the pictures on your wall? You even look out the window to find a completely different view. Where the hell are you?

It suddenly hits you that you’re back in the real world—or your reality at least. The past 8 years have basically just been one long dream. You jump out of bed and rush to the bathroom to check to see if there were any visible signs of aging. You let out a sigh of relief when you realize that you still look the exact same and go back to your room to check the date on your phone just to confirm. There’s an envelope with your name on it beside your phone and you feel a sense of déjà vu as you rip it open.

Dear Y/N,

Welcome back! Hopefully you’re not too disoriented after returning to our reality but I wrote this letter just in case. It’s only been a day since we first met so don’t worry, everything in your old life is still the same as it was. It’ll take a few days for memories from your life here to resurface so just take it easy for now. You should still have your memories from your alternate universe and your soulmate should have them too, so all you have to do is find them! I know this sounds hard but don’t worry; as I’m sure you already know, the universe works in mysterious ways~

See you soon, Cyan xoxo

You let yourself plop back down onto your bed, giving yourself a few minutes to process everything before taking a deep breath. Taeyong. You have to find Taeyong. Getting out of bed, you decide you get dressed and get ready for the day, a memory of your friend Yuna telling you about the new cafe across town resurfacing, so you decide to go there. You feel too cooped up in your apartment, you need to do something.

Passing by the window of the cafe, you can’t believe your eyes when you see Cyan sitting at one of the tables. She smiles at you through the window while lifting a mug in greeting and you rush to enter the coffee shop, your hands shaking at your side as you approach her. “Good to see you, Y/N,” she greets you, standing up just as you sit opposite her. You’re about to stand as well before she gently pushes you back down with a hand on your shoulder. “These are for you,” she says as she hands you a small bouquet of pink forget-me-nots. You look down at the flowers, memories of the past 8 years (yesterday?) overwhelming you but you shake it off and look up, only to find Cyan gone. You look around frantically but it’s like she disappeared, completely vanished in thin air as you look around the coffee shop and even out the window. With a huff, you put the flowers on the table and settle your chin on your hand as you wonder what to do next.

“Are you finished with this?” an employee asks you as they point at Cyan’s empty coffee mug.

You look up, about to answer, when your breath catches in your throat, your eyes meeting very familiar brown ones that widen at the same exact time as yours. Before you stands Taeyong, a brown apron with the words “Wake Up Cafe” embroidered on it in gold tied around his waist. Standing up, you reach out to grab one of the flowers and break off part of the stem before slowly reaching out and tucking it behind his ear. His hair is different, a little longer and a dark grey color with bits of silver rather than the light brown that you’re used to, but you see the rose-shaped scar beside his shining eyes and you feel like you could cry. Taeyong’s hands cup your face and his thumbs come up to brush away tears that you didn’t even notice, the distance between your lips and his slowly decreasing.

His lips brush over yours and his eyes flicker back and forth between your eyes and your lips. “Found you.”

You chuckle at his words and close the distance, and you wonder if springtime feels just as good for the blooming flowers as the love that you can feel blooming in your chest when you kiss Taeyong.

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