#Free Flower Basket Day

[rabbitcruiser]

Free Flower Basket Day

Free Flower Basket Day on January 4 encourages you to surprise someone with beautiful flowers. Everyone loves flowers — they’re gorgeous, they smell nice, they look good, and they don’t need much maintenance. Whether you pick a few from your garden or buy a lovely bouquet, give a friend or family member a free basket of flowers to brighten their day. 

History of Free Flower Basket Day

Flowers presumably originated between 140 to 200 million years ago. They are the bloom or blossom of a plant. The flower is the part that produces seeds, which eventually become other flowers. This happens through a process known as pollination, which is carried out either by insects or the wind. Flowers are highly modified to attract their special pollinators such as bees, flies, moths, hummingbirds, bats, and more. It’s for this reason that flowers are brightly colored and beautifully scented.

Did you know that without some flowers, we would not have some foods, medicines, dyes, textiles, and tons of other essentials for daily use? They are essential and every type of flower is unique in color, scent, shape and size. They need food and sunlight to survive, as they make their own food and derive energy through photosynthesis. To perform photosynthesis, plants require; carbon dioxide, water, and sunlight. Carbon dioxide penetrates through little holes in a plant’s leaves, flowers, branches, stems, and roots. The roots absorb the water, the sun breaks down the molecules of carbon dioxide and water, and reorganizes them to make sugar (glucose) and oxygen. 

It is not certain who created Free Flower Basket Day, but it is likely that the holiday was started by the greeting card industry because there are always references to it on greeting card sites. We do know, however, that it’s a day to give or receive a basket of flowers and it is celebrated annually on January 4.

Free Flower Basket Day timeline

2500 B.C.

Egyptians Decorate with Flowers

Egyptians place flowers in vases and create beautiful arrangements for various occasions.

207 B.C.

Flower Arrangements in China

The Chinese take up flower arrangements, and flowers are an important aspect of religious teachings and medicine.

476 A.D.

Flowers in Europe

Flower arranging reaches Europe and flowers are especially popular in churches and monasteries.

2015

The oldest flower is discovered

The oldest flower — a 130-million-year-old aquatic plant Montsechia vidalii — is found in Spain.

Free Flower Basket Day FAQs

How long do flowers last?

Flowers last between five to seven days, and if properly cared for, they can last for a few weeks. Although some flowers last forever if dried.

Is it possible to hate flowers?

Yes. Anthophobia is the fear of flowers, and some people are allergic to specific or most flowers.

Do flowers smell like chocolate?

Some flowers smell exactly like chocolates, including chocolate daisies, chocolate orchids, and more.

Free Flower Basket Day Activities

Express your love with flowersSay “I love you” to those special people in your life and say it with flowers. Flowers are one of, if not the most genuine way to express your love for someone.

Get flowers for yourselfShow yourself some self-love. Flowers are known to lift your mood, so go pick a few of your favorites or have them delivered to your door.

Donate to your favorite charityAs a “thank you” for all the hard work your favorite charity is doing, donate a basket of flowers to them. No doubt it will be appreciated.

5 Amazing Facts About Flowers

Roses are the most popular flowersThe beautifully colored rose flowers are the most popular flowers in the world.

Tulips were worth more than goldSome centuries ago in Holland, tulips were more expensive than gold.

Broccoli is actually a flowerBroccoli is a plant from the Brassicaceae family whose flowers and stalks are eaten as a vegetable.

Orchids do not need soil to growOrchids do not necessarily need soil to grow because their nutrients are obtained from air.

Flowers did not always existFlowers first appeared about 140 to 200 million years ago.

Why We Love Free Flower Basket Day

Flowers are beautiful: Flowers are simply stunning. They are a true sight for sore eyes and will beautify any room in your home.

Flowers can instantly change your mood: Flowers are proven to improve your mood. And sending flowers to someone when they are going through a tough time is a thoughtful way to lift their spirits and put a smile on their face.

Flowers have healing powers: Flowers have several powers beyond beauty and sentiment. They have been known to inspire and help cure medical illnesses for many centuries now. Some are known to relieve pain or fight against nausea.

Source

[cjdsignsworld]

For-Get-Me-Knots ~Crochet Flowers

[syboubou]

Happy Stairways set

This new set is all about the space under the staircase ! With this new pack, you'll get two new staircases (one with pattern, and one without but with multiple painted colors or natural wood swatches), assorted railing and fences, and a modular shelving system that will go under. You can use both sides as standalone or against the wall, it will work however you place them. Along with it, multiple clutter to fill the shelves or the walls, among with new wallpaper and painted color walls. Everything to make a bright and cheerful staircase area !

Description

This set includes 24 new items, maxismatch, lowpoly & basegame compatible.

Build: Two stairs (one with natural woods and sisal carpeted pattern and one with natural sial but 26 color swatches), a railing and an assorted fence.

Wall: Seamless wallpaper with assorted painted wall.

Furnitures: 5 modular shelves, stackable to build the perfect understair.

Lighting: Ceramic wall light

Decor: Muddy adult and kid boots, umbrellas in wicker basket, sisal baskets, books (left & right), assorted sisal pattern rug, wall frames, potteries decoration

Plants: A hanging plant, a small fern and a flower vase bouquet.

❗Note: due to the shaders being different, the shelves and the stairs/railing will not be the EXACT same color depending on the swatch/hour of the day. I tried my best to fit them the closest I could... 😌

>> FREE DOWNLOAD ON MY WEBSITE

[mellowwillowy]

(gasps) he's a fae?? Part 1 MDNI

Yan! Butler who is skilled in practically everything, allowing him to serve you wherever and whenever for you.

Yan! Butler who is never even once considered to be intimidating in your eyes yet other people would always have a say about it. Why can't you notice the way he glares at all your suitors disapprovingly?

Yan! Butler who always has the last words of critiques toward your suitor, causing you to scrap them away in pursuit of a better suitor for your country's well-being.

Yan! Butler who is secretly working on his influence and status as he steals what is rightfully your scrapped suitors. Bits by bits, he has grown into a fine gentleman within the years he has served you.

Yan! Butler who has spent his entire life building everything from the day you took him into the shelter of your wings, allowing him to understand how it feels like to be home. Allowing him to unleash the avarice side of a human.

Yan! Butler who is never content with just standing next to you as a servant, no. He wants to stand on an equal ground as you do as your lover. He has to. He has spent his whole life keeping you safe from impurities, allowing you to bloom beautifully. Only he is allowed to defile you should the call come. Only he is allowed to have your lip against his and frankly speaking, his cock.

Yan! Butler who will sometimes walk out of the picture, hiding himself somewhere secluded, teeth clutching on a handkerchief you embroidered for him as he pumped his cock vigorously.

The perfume you were wearing was an anonymous present from a noble, someone you assumed to be one of the many suitors. You were unaware that the noble was the butler who had served you since you were children, the same boy you once had your eyes shaped in a heart.

The idea of you wearing a scent he crafted himself may not be as romantic as what others had in store but he knew that better than anyone. He was an orphan, true. But were you aware that the orphan was never a human?

Back in the country he once lived in, there's a courting habit that the faes pride themselves in doing so. And that was to give their beloved a perfume that was personally handcrafted in memory of the most cherished memory they had in mind.

And the scent you were wearing was the memory of you saving him, the smell of the rain that drenched him mixing with the flowers' smell from your basket, and the smell of love blooming from first sight.

His hip jerked upward as he relished in the memories. You might not realize it but seeing you wearing it so proudly rendered him helpless to the point he crumbled as nothing but an ejaculating mess. The smile that was so gentle and sweet as you coaxed him into the carriage... and the hands that were so warm when compared to his pale, cold ones.

Oh, how he would kill just to have you feel him all over while wearing his scent.

Soon he would be able to consummate with you as a spouse. Just one more year and he would present himself as a suitor who would outmatch the whole list, free of blemishes, critiques, and flaws.

Then just perhaps, the fae would be able to restore his kingdom and propose an agreement of bridging two countries through marriage.

[chilumi-shipper]

Crowned Flowers

Kamisato Ayato x Fem!Reader (Royal AU)

Summary: He's the Crowned Prince and you're just a commoner. You love each other but you had to keep your relationship a secret. Knowing it was the best to leave him alone and not make his life harder, you avoided him and no longer visited the castle. After years of pining for his first and only love, he is met with the sight of a little boy identical to him.

Warning: Slight Smut nothing intense

Tags: Slight Angst to Fluff, Royalty x Commoner

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

The young prince Ayato wasn't aware that such a cheap flower could bring about such beauty, yet a crown made of those cheap flowers laid on the head of a maiden he found strikingly admirable, he couldn't keep his eyes off you.

You were trying to catch the attention of other people around you, offering them a look of your basket of flowers, perhaps hoping that the flowers would be of interest to some people, and thus buy it off you.

"Sir..." The blue haired prince was shaken out of his trances, realizing that you had made your way over to him. You smiled at him with all the joy in your possibly pure heart. "Would you like to buy a flower? They're really pretty."

You didn't recognize him, probably because of his thick robe, covering the unmistakable blue hue of the hair of the royal family.

"Ahhh- Umm..." Ayato patted himself, looking for some mora to give you, but all his expenses are handled by his retainers, so he doesn't have anything on him. "I-I apologize, I don't seem to have any-"

You held up a flower for him still, "That's okay! I want you to take one for free! My mama said that giving something nice to others brightens up their day, and you can make good friends!"

He took the flowers in his hands, and never has the young prince felt so grateful for something so small.

Nobody knows why King Ayato's favorite flower is a cheap, white petaled flower that can be seen all over the kingdom. Surely someone of his status would love a rare, exotic flower only someone as rich as him could gaze upon.

But the sight of the beautiful flower reminded him of the love he unfortunately couldn't keep in his arms. The love that remained embedded in his being, never letting him forget the face that brought upon color in his world, the hands that cradles his face and caress his cheeks ever so softly, the body that he forever wants to hold close to his own, though he probably could never again.

The crowned king Ayato could only reminisce about the love of his life.

"The young prince is missing again!" Yelled one of his guards, his voice laced with worry, less for the prince and more for himself if he doesn't bring the prince back to the palace immediately.

The panicked guard yelling for help at the other guards drew a little giggle from you, making you cover your mouth to avoid making too much noise. You were hiding behind the tall fence of the local orphanage, Ayato next to you sitting close, trying not to laugh as well.

"Looks like we got some time for ourselves." He whispered, his face awfully close to yours. You smiled brightly, as you usually do, cuddling up to him.

"Your parents might kill you..." You rest your head on his shoulder, prompting him to wrap an arm around you. You sighed in contentment, hearing the fading frantic footsteps of the guards.

"I don't think I mind having this as my final moment before my parents kill me." You playfully slapped him on the chest due to his statement.

Ayato then had a thought, "Maybe... they wouldn't be disapproving of our relationship like we thought." He tightened his hold of you. ''Perhaps, we can finally-"

"It's unheard of, couples like us." You spoke sadly, sighing after. "It's only in those teenage fanfiction books does the commoner get the prince."

Ayato didn't want to admit that you were right, there was a low chance that his parents would allow him to marry a commoner, much less would the royal court.

He chose to end the topic with a joke. "Well then, I hope the writer of this story knows the decorations I want for our wedding." He basked in the smile that your lips formed.

As the king of his kingdom, he was expected to produce an heir to the throne within the first five years of his reign, yet he had not stuck to this expectation, he had not even chosen a bride.

It feels as though his heart is tied to only one, and no other lady could capture him in a loving blanket of eternal bliss in which you caged him in.

And no other could satisfy the hunger that you satiated during your first (and last) night together.

"I still wish to see you after this..." He says in a breathless moan, his hand landing on your hips as you grind yourself closer to him. "Archons, my queen..." He hisses, shutting his eyes at your moves above him sending him to absolute euphoria.

Your fingers poked at his cheek before your palm made contact, caressing it to opt him to open his eyes. You smile softly at him, "You have a duty..."

In the dim light of the moon illuminating from the windows of his room, you looked absolutely radiant, completely naked for him to devour with his eyes. His hips instinctively jerked up at the sight, making you whimper at the sudden sensation.

"I have a duty to the woman I love..." His own hand reach for your face, cupping your cheek. "I fucking love you..."

He had never felt such raw and intense emotions, but being bare and romantic with you within the warmth of his abode, showered by the cascading light of the moon truly made him love you even more.

You lean into his touch, closing your eyes as you start to move on his lap, letting him caress your insides. "I love you, I love you too..." You whispered, letting it mix with the moans that leaves your mouth.

After your intense, romantic, sweet love-making, you left his life with one last kiss to remember him by.

He's never seen you since then.

Sometimes he even thinks that you were just a figment of his imagination, his version of perfection within a girl that he would hopelessly fall in love with for the rest of his life.

But, as he stares at the scene in front of him...

"Flowers! Fresh flowers here! So pretty, it'll make you fall in love!"

...that young boy, selling white flowers in a somewhat familiar, worn-out basket, hair covered with a cloak, but his eyes... that unmistakable tint of purple that only one member of the royal family has.

His heart then drops, as the door of the house behind the little boy opens, revealing... you.

You... 're so beautiful...

A version of perfection within a girl that he would hopelessly fall in love with for the rest of his life.

"Your Majesty, the royal guards are done with their business here, we may go if you would allow us." A guard stood beside him, unbeknownst to the conflicting feeling swirling within the king.

"Yes, go..." Ayato refuses to take his eyes off the scene in front of him.

"And you, your Majest-" The guard could not finish his question before Ayato was walking up to the boy holding the basket.

"Sir with the crown! You want flowers, right?" As their gazes meet, the purple-eyed boy pointed at him and shouted excitedly.

Ayato chuckled, taking out a pouch of mora from his suit and kneeling down to the boys level. "Would this suffice for one lovely flower?"

"Wow! That's for a whole basket!"

"You can have it, I've been thought that giving something nice to others brightens up their day, and you can make good friends."

"My mommy says that!" As the boy exclaims, a figure walks up behind him, opting Ayato to look up.

"I know she does..." Though he is filled with conflicting emotions, he still smiles at you. "My queen says that."

"Is mommy your queen, Mr. Crown?"

Your eyes lock onto his, your gaze softening. "King Ayato... I'm sorry for my child..." His eyes seem to darken as you refer to your son as only yours.

Ayato gently places a hand on the little boys hood, lifting it off a little to reveal the same shade of blue hair as his. "Hmm... a very handsome young prince..."

The boy silently tugs at your skirt. "We're secretly royalty, mommy." He giggles, making his father smile.

"Yes, nobody would go against a king for declaring his beloved as a royal, to be by his side. " Ayato smiles proudly.

For the longest time in his life, he had always wanted to just hold you without worrying about the eyes of the public, and as he shamelessly holds out a hand to cup your cheek, he has fulfilled one of his many wishes.

"You can run from a crowned prince, but not a king, my queen." He pulls you in for a kiss, and despite to nosy eyes of your neighbors, you let him.

And you don't have to run away again.

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

The little boy is unnamed, cuz I suck with names, so comment what you would name your little love child with Ayato!

Also, I found this in my drafts, it was like from a year ago and I read it and I can't believe it's so... beautifully written?? (not tutting my own horn, I was just truly impressed that I could come up with this, I mean, you guys read my smuts >:)) Anywayyy, hope you like it!

[4unnyr0se]

❥ sfw & n$fw headcanons - yuu nishinoya & morisuke yaku

warnings: timeskip! characters, fem! reader, they're sweetiepies, noya is actually a freak, roleplay, switch! noya, hickeys, spanking, mentions of unprotected sex, dom! yaku, slight breeding kink with yaku, cowgirl, doggystyle, they love you so much

MDNI | 18+ content

word count -> 2k

a/n: im sorry if yaku is ooc i wrote this at 2am and i do not feel like editing anything. n$fw is censored because i would like to keep my blog lmao

Yuu Nishinoya - SFW

❥ Absolutely whipped for you the second he lays his eyes upon you. You could be doing anything, literally anything, and he knew right then and there that he would die for you, no questions asked.

❥ He doesn’t really care what qualifies as a “date” as long as he gets to spend time with you. You could be folding laundry together, and he thinks it’s the most romantic date you’ve been on because you’re with him and you’re his entire world.

❥ Spontaneous. Gifts. He’ll send flowers to where you work, give you cool rocks he found while hiking or doing some other such thing, making you a care basket full of your favorite chocolates and snacks, contracting Sugawara to help him write love letters (writing is not his strong suit but he still wants to do it.)

❥ So much food, like…just so much food. You’ve been to every restaurant in town at least twice because that boy loves to eat. Even if you aren’t a big eater, he’ll still make sure you get three meals a day plus snacks. And if you struggle to eat, he’ll be so happy even if you only eat a little bit off your plate.

❥ Quality time and physical touch are his love languages, so expect to be getting kisses often. Pecks on the cheek in public, his arms wrapped around your waist from behind as you wash dishes in the sink. And if he’s jealous? He has no problem making out with you in front of people because you’re his, and the world should know.

❥ Speaking of physical touch, this man will not stop holding your hand. At least one part of him is touching a part of you at any given moment when you’re together as if he’s afraid you’d float away if he let go.

❥ Hella clingy, this man is incredibly clingy. If you get up to use the restroom when you’re cuddling, he’s waiting outside the door for you to come back so he can kiss those beautiful lips of yours. He just can’t get enough!

❥ Obsessed with you and everything that you do. Did you sneeze? He’s on the verge of tears because you look so fucking cute when you sneeze. Did you buy a new outfit? He’s throwing a tantrum until you model it for him so he can shower you with praise. Noya worships the ground you walk on and them some. 

❥ Lowkey possessive but in a good way. Deep down, he’s worried that you’ll leave him for someone taller or better than he is, so he gets a tiny bit jealous when he sees someone talking to you that he considers a threat. Of course, you’re free to do whatever you like. He would never tell you what you can and cannot do. He respects you too much for that. But he will talk to you about his feelings because he’s mature like that.

N$FW

❥ So. Many. Hickeys. This ties into the part of him being possessive. He wants to let everyone know that you’re his, and what better way to show you off than by parading you around town with your neck and chest covered in little red and purple bruises? You’ve nearly gone bankrupt on buying just concealer because once a hickey fades away, a new one will take its place in no time at all.

❥ Literally anything the two of you do will end in him fucking you or vice versa. If you bend down to pick something up, his hands are groping your ass, and he’s pulling down your panties and shoving his fingers into your pussy, all the while whispering the filthiest things in your ear. 

❥ This motherfucker whines and whimpers, and he’s so incredibly loud about it. The second he shoves his dick inside, he becomes a babbling, pussydrunk mess that’s only focused on you cumming all over his cock.

❥ Noya is 100% a switch who doesn’t lean towards being submissive or dominant. He just does whatever you want him to. Do you want him to fuck you stupid for hours on end? He’s down for that? Do you want to tie him up, blindfold him, and ride him until he can’t think. Also completely down for that. 

❥ Endless stamina. As long as you’re up for it, he can fuck you for the entire day. He simply doesn’t believe in a recovery period on his end. He’ll fuck you from sunrise to sunset. All you have to do is ask.

❥ Tits man 100%. Noya loves tits, no matter the size or shape. If you have huge tits, he’s fondling them as he takes you from behind. Medium-sized tits? He sucks on them as you ride his cock, relishing in the taste. Small tits? He plays with your pert nipples as he fucks you missionary. All tits are good tits in his eyes

.❥ Highly experimental in the bedroom. He’ll try anything and everything if it means you both get to feel good. From you pegging him to him filming your third orgasm of the night, he’s down for whatever. The only things he isn’t okay with are hitting you (impact play) and sharing you with others. He will casually slap your ass but that’s as far as he’ll go. He just can’t bring himself to hit you, even if it turns you on.

❥ Could eat you out for literal days and not get tired, not even for one second. He wants you cumming on his tongue and pulling on his hair as you beg him for more, and he’ll give it to you.

❥ Focuses on your pleasure, not his own. You’re his goddess and he’d do anything to serve you, anything to make you cum again and again.

❥ Has a whole index of kinks, but his top ones are roleplay and passionate sex. Dress up as a teacher, and he’ll cum in his pants, begging on you to punish him for failing your class.

❥ Loves to make love to you.

❥ “Yeah? You like it when I fuck you with my fingers, angel? M’gonna make you cum so fucking much for me, my perfect angel.”

❥ “Fuck, you’re so fucking tight. Can’t get enough of this dick, can you baby? Gotta fuck you stupid.”

❥ “More, I want more! I’ve been so bad, I deserve to be punished, ma’am!”

❥ “Talk to the camera for me, angel. Tell the camera how many times my cock made this pussy squirt all over the sheets.”

❥ “Gonna fucking cum inside, can’t pull out. Oh, fuck, baby, you’re fucking milking me dry, shit.”

❥ “Faster, fuck me faster! Wanna fucking cum so bad, please! I’ve been good, right?”

Morisuke Yaku - SFW

❥ Loves when you get an attitude with him because he also has an attitude. He loves when you talk back to him and when you tell him how you really feel, it’s just so refreshing. Honesty is very important to Yaku.

❥ You and Yaku basically continue to mother Lev well after you’re both graduated. Lev will call and text you for advice and you’ll gladly help him, even if Yaku gets a little jealous that you’re paying more attention to the oversized Russian than you are to your own boyfriend.

❥ Takes you on the most romantic restaurant dates ever. He has professional athlete money, so order whatever the hell you like! If you want five lobsters, get five lobsters. As long as his baby is happy.

❥ Spoils you rotten, but he won’t ever admit it. If you point out a cute necklace that you saw in a magazine, it’s there when you wake up the next morning. Yaku will pretend to not know how it got there, but he knows, obviously. Expect lots of expensive gifts when you’re dating, especially from designer brands. Half of your closet is Chanel and you sure as hell aren’t complaining.

❥ Not that big on PDA, but will wrap an arm around your waist in public. Since he’s a well-known libero in the Russian Volleyball League, he gets approached on the street sometimes. He doesn’t want to draw too much attention to himself (especially if you hate getting attention from strangers, so he holds off on kissing you until you’re in the privacy of his penthouse apartment.

❥ Pleads and begs until you adopt a cat together. He just wants a cat with you, any cat will do. It can be a cat you found in a dumpster or a cat that cost someone’s entire yearly salary, he just wants a cat to raise with you by his side.

❥ Wraps his arms around your waist as you cook and leave kisses on your neck. Whether you’re taller or shorter from him, get ready for hugs and kisses from behind.

❥ If you struggle with your body image, he’ll kiss away all your insecurities. His lips will be on yours for hours as he tells you how perfect you are, and how much he loves you. He’ll kiss away your tears as you start crying as well, because to him you are perfect.

N$FW

❥ Not very vocal in bed, but he does make plenty of grunts and groans. The only time you’ll ever really hear him moan is when you bite down on his incredibly sensitive neck, which will make him cum on the spot.

❥ Advocate for safe and healthy sex but prefers to hit it raw. He’ll use a condom if you want him to, he isn’t a monster. But the way you react when his cum fills out of your womb makes him want to wife you up and fuck you every single day.

❥ Designer lingerie is his weakness, especially the ones with garters that squeeze your thigh beautifully. If you wear red lingerie around him, be prepared to not be able to walk tomorrow because he will ruin your pussy.

❥ 100% a pleasure dom. Nothing makes him happier than knowing that he fucks you so good each and every night that you can’t even get off without his help anymore because that’s how much he loves to fuck you.

❥ Ass man. His hands will be on your ass all the time and you just have to accept it. He loves to fuck you from behind because he’s mesmerized by the way your ass moves as he fucks you. His favorite position is doggystyle.

❥ A weird turn-on for him is when you walk around wearing his jersey. He fucking loves it when you wear his jersey, and he can see your lacy panties poking out under the shirt, it drives him wild. If you wear his jersey, he gets an instant boner.

❥ Sit. In. His. Lap. Sit in his lap and dry hump him. He needs it so badly. He loves watching as you struggle to get off on his thigh. You look so cute when you’re desperate.

❥ Definitely a brat tamer. He loves it when you have an attitude because he gets to fuck it out of you later, spanking you as he tells you how much of a brat you are and how you need to learn your lesson. You never do.

❥ Mirror sex. He’s mesmerized by how adorable you look in the mirror as your pussy struggles to take his girthy cock.

❥ “Yeah? Look at yourself in the mirror, princess. Look at how your slutty little pussy is taking me. You’re such a little slut, you’re my little slut.”

❥ “Did you think you could just walk around in my jersey and nothing else? Bend over, princess, right fucking now.”

❥ “I’m so fucking close, shit. You want me to cum inside you, princess? Want me to fill you up and give you my babies? You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

❥ “Fuck, you know what red does to me. So fucking slutty for me, babygirl. Now get on the bed and spread those legs nice and wide like a good girl.”

❥ “Take it, fucking take it. That’s my good girl. I love it when you behave for me, princess. Can I get another one of you, my love? I think you can handle another orgasm.”

❥ “You look so pretty when you cum, princess. Do you like how your Morisuke makes you feel? Use your words, princess.”

[godslino]

IN BLOOM | jisung first date series. second chance lovers.

pairing: jisung x fem!reader word count: 13.2k genre: childhood friends au, angst, fluff, songwriter!jisung, florist!reader warnings: swearing, minor character death, grief/loss (nothing to do with any of the members!) summary: it's february. the tulips are in bloom. jisung is back.

chan | minho | changbin | hyunjin | jisung | felix | seungmin | jeongin · · · ♡ series masterlist · · · ♡ taglist · · · ♡

a/n: *taps mic* hello?? is this thing on?? oh good. yes. hi. hello! it's been a while, as most of you can tell. thank you all SO MUCH for sticking around. if you've been reading my asks you'll know that march and april were rough months for me personally. shout out to my anons and mutuals who kept my spirits high and made my days brighter. uhhh, this was originally supposed to be a stand alone fic but i figured hey, what the hell, and made it into jisung's first date chapter. it's pretty heavy stuff. lots of feelings, lots of love. i hope you guys enjoy reading it as much as i did writing it! again, thank you so much for waiting for me. i'll be back soon with more updates! all the love <3

also thank you kenzie for being such a light during all of this. i hope all my screaming in your messages was worth it!

“All of these had to be pulled.” Hyunjin huffs, dropping a few crates just past the doorway. 

“Again?” you ask, hands on your hips as you stare at yet another wasted supply. “I don’t understand, they sold so well last year.”

Hyunjin gives you a sad smile. “It’ll pick up eventually, don’t worry. I mean the holidays just finished and business usually slows down in the months after anyways.”

He’s being sincere, you know that. But there’s a part of you that also knows it’s a lot more than just the usual ebb and flow of sales. He’s being nice for your sake.

“Maybe we could try coming up with other ideas?” he suggests, because Hyunjin is nothing if not kind. Always willing, always finding a way.

He moves past you to grab a fresh pair of gloves. The ones he’s wearing are dirty, pollen-stained and ripped at the edges. 

“You’ve always been really good at basket arrangements. We could try to make some for Valentine's Day. Different sizes, maybe? The big ones will probably do well for online orders since they’re more optimal for things like office deliveries and stuff like that.”

You hum in approval. “True. I mean, I was kind of worried we would have to skip out on deliveries this year since we don’t have the manpower to handle all of that, but I think Jeongin’s been looking to pick up hours around here again. He said something about his program giving them a month of independent study, so he’ll be home for a bit.” you say, scribbling down a reminder in your notebook. “I could ask him to help with driving the truck in his free time?”

Hyunjin lights up– he always does when Jeongin is mentioned. 

It’s been a lot quieter ever since he left for college. There were so many tears and so many hugs that were met with countless 'you guys are dramatic's in return. But it’s hard to not feel sad when people leave town; when they decide the borders lined with apple trees and rice fields aren’t enough to stop their dreams from blooming into more than what’s capable of being pursued here.

That, unsurprisingly, is something you know all too well.

“Can’t believe he’s driving.” Hyunjin laments as he wipes his floral scissors with a rag. “I used to spend my days changing his diapers and spoon feeding him redbulls– but now? Driving? My baby is all grown up.” he fake sniffles. “By the way, I’m gonna take my fifteen after I’m done snipping these tulips.”

You snort, bending down to take the crates of wilted flowers to the back for disposal. Hyunjin moves to help but you shake him off.

“Sounds good. Also, don’t let Innie hear you say that. I’m about a thousand percent sure he has the strength needed to throw you into the dumpster with one arm now.”

“My baby would never do that to me!” Hyunjin calls out as you round the corner, bumping open the back door with your hip. 

February brings a lot of rain in Jeju. Today is no different; fat drops landing on your head as soon as you stumble out into the alley behind the shop. Footsteps heavy on wet brick, you curse under your breath as you run as fast as you can to the dumpster.

There’s still a few supply boxes from yesterday’s shipment laying around. You meant to bring them in, but you were so exhausted that it slipped your mind while you struggled to make sure everything inside the shop was figured out.

Scrambling, you haul them in one by one, shoes squeaking against the floor as you alternate in and out, soggy cardboard pressed against the front of your apron. 

Hyunjin’s on break. A necessary one at that. You can’t bother him, especially not when he’s done enough by taking on more responsibility both as a physical worker and a newly actualized business partner recently. A few stacks of boxes and wet hair seem like a fair trade off for what he’s had to sacrifice in the past year now.

“Idiot,” you mumble, cursing yourself for carelessness. Your slip ups have been more frequent lately, evident in the way you constantly forget things and can’t seem to push away the haziness clouding your mind. 

If it weren’t for the timing of it all, you’d blame it on the weather. The gloominess. The overcast skies probably have some sort of hand in your lack of clarity. Shrouded.

But it’s February. And in Jeju— it rains.

By the time you make it back inside, you’re drenched. 

“You look like you just got dunked in a pool.” 

You frown, ringing your hair out into the trash bin by the door. It’ll definitely take time to dry off, both your hair and your clothes are soaked through.

Hyunjin watches with an amused look, arms crossed as he leans his back against the counter.

“Might as well have. It’s insane out there.” you sigh. “How was your break?”

You look up to find that his face has gone unreadable.

“Yeah, about that…” Hyunjin trails off, voice suddenly smaller than before.

“Everything okay?” 

“Yeah, yeah it’s just–” Hyunjin chews at his bottom lip.

You push past him into the supply room to switch out your apron just as he says, “Do you mind if I leave a little early today?”

You scoff, turning to face him. “Hwang Hyunjin,” you scold, lips twitching when he visibly startles at your tone, “You don’t have to ask me that. We’re partners now, remember? We run this place.” 

He shifts on his feet, still unsure.

“Besides,” you huff, tying a knot behind your back, “We were friends way before that, too. You don’t have to be all proper with me. Of course you can leave early. It’s slow today, I can take care of it.”

Hyunjin sighs after contemplating for a second. “Are you sure you’ll be okay, though?” 

When he stares at you for a moment too long, you know the real reason for his hesitation. It makes something twist deep in your gut.

Guilt, maybe, amongst other things.

“Of course.” you shrug, doing your best to seem nonchalant. 

Hyunjin’s ability to read people is kind of intense, a little scary at times. You happen to be one of his favorite subjects in that regard.

“Have fun. Tell Minah I said hi.”

He pales, sputtering around words as he struggles to say something. It’s cute, his plump lips opening and closing, eyes wild.

“I’m not going to see her! I’m–it’s just a movie! How did you—God, you’re so annoying. I should’ve made you trim the tulips. Hah!”

You giggle. “It’s funny that you think I wouldn’t know, especially with the way you love to actually make yourself look busy whenever she stops by to say hi.”

“I am busy.” he mumbles, looking away. “I just emphasize it a lot more when she’s here.”

“Sure,” you roll your eyes, “Let’s go with that.”

He whines a couple more times, trails after you around the shop and laughs when you swat him away with a rolled up newspaper that’s used for wrapping vases.

It’s loud. Easy. Hyunjin is a gentle reminder that normalcy still exists in your day to day, even if it’s hard to find. 

When he finally decides to leave, he lingers for a moment, triple checks that you’ll be okay. You roll your eyes for what feels like the millionth time today, but deep down you’re grateful. 

“Love you,” he says, one foot out the door. “Call me if you need anything.”

You shake your head, ignoring him. “Love you too.” 

And then he’s gone, a skip in his step as he heads down the sidewalk, leaving you with nothing but freshly-trimmed tulips and the sound of rain. 

“Herb snips, shears, tape…” you mumble, scanning the supply shelf. 

There’s not much to do in-shop right now. Almost all the arrangements have been tended to by Hyunjin already, his specialty being his keen eye. That’s why he handles the appeal of the shop, leaving you to figure out all the logistics. Learning it all was easier said than done.

In reality, it was never your intention to take over the shop at all. 

“When I die,” your grandma would always say, ignoring the way you groaned and begged her to stop bringing it up, “Sell this place. Use the money for something worthwhile. A trip to Greece, maybe?”

“Nana,” you would scold, glaring at her where she stood next to you, trimming a batch of roses.

Wrinkled hands that still held all the skill of youth. Fingers moving at a speed others could only ever dream of having– you included.

Your grandma handled flowers with the same amount of care she did everything else. It’s no wonder that when they grew they would lean in her direction, drawn to her like they would be the sun. 

“I’m not selling this place. It’s too special, too important. A vacation only lasts so long, Nana. This is forever.”

She would smile, turn petals over in her hand. Sometimes the marigolds would match the glow in her eyes, a testament to the belief you harbored as a child that she had the ability to sprout blossoms from her fingertips.

“The one thing you shouldn’t do, my dear, is rely on forever. Because that, too, is uncertain.”

You wish you hadn’t been so hard headed. Wish that you would’ve believed her, taken the time to listen, cherished the moment a little bit longer instead of relying on the promise of tomorrow.

I’m sorry for your loss.

Your grandmother was a wonderful woman.

She’ll be with you in your heart, forever.

Oh, what a lie forever is.

The shop stays empty for the rest of the day. There were a few passersby, all of whom simply stopped to scan the arrangements along the windows before giving a polite nod and carrying on their way. 

Realistically, the shop has no problem with attracting customers. It’s a sight to behold: mid-floor to ceiling windows with various displays, hanging baskets of winding greenery, countless arrangements that fill the shelves and add a pop of color, and a wide assortment of flowers for each season. 

The real issue lies in your inability to sell. Most people regard the place as being good for nothing more than window shopping and the usual photo-op.

Business has slowed since your Grandma passed; since you took over as the sole owner and were suddenly face to face with the task of making decisions in the shop’s best interest– both integrity wise and from a business standpoint.

“I know, I know,” you say around the pen cap between your teeth, “You used to be the brains around here, not me. I’m not creative enough for all of this, you know? No matter how much I try to be.”

You look up from where your notebook lays open, dozens of scribbles for arrangement ideas and planning. The picture on the wall stares at you, unmoving, eyes as bright as marigolds.

“Don’t give me that look.” 

She stares. A gaze that holds all the answers while also saying nothing at all.

“Ugh.” you groan, leaning your palms on the desk.

You allow your head to hang forward, defeated, exhaustion flooding your bones. 

Just as you’re about to speak again, to complain about yet another thing that probably has her rolling around in her grave, the bell at the front counter dings.

The clock on the desk reads 6:55pm, five minutes until close. You hadn’t even heard anyone come in.

“Be right there!” you call out, rushing to grab your apron from where you’d thrown it on one of the chairs. 

In your haste, the box of seed packets you’d been inventorying goes tumbling to the floor.

“Fuck,” you mutter, bending down to pick everything up. One more thing to add to the list today. 

Off-kilter. Disoriented. Exhausted. 

You sniffle a few times, blinking against the sting behind your eyes as you stand up to put the box back in its place.

One deep breath, a shake of your shoulders. Just enough to chase it all away until later. 

“Sorry about that,” you say cheerily, pushing past the hanging beads that separate the front of the shop from the back. “How can I help you?”

There’s a stranger, his back turned, attention focused on a batch of tulips. Freshly cut. White, blue, purple.

You realize, belatedly, that you’d forgotten to grab your apron in your haste to clean up the seed packets. Another slip up. Nana always prided herself in her apron, wore it like a badge of honor, raised you to do the same.

Just as you spin around to grab it, the stranger says, “It’s okay. I just, um, I wanted to say hi.”

You freeze. There’s a long moment where his voice rings loud in your ears, reverberates against the walls of your brain until it travels through your blood, the feeling like wildfire in your veins until it settles deep in the pit of your stomach. 

Slowly, you turn, heart clamoring in your chest, threatening to stop altogether as soon as you come face to face with the one person you never thought you’d see again.

Because there, at the front of the store, is Jisung.

Jisung, with wide eyes and parted lips. Jisung, with hair that still curls at the ends and falls in shags around his face. Jisung, broader, more actualized, now grown into his features but still undeniably soft around the edges. Jisung, with thick framed glasses pushed up his nose and silver hoops dangling from his ears. 

A stranger. But undoubtedly Jisung. 

“You look…nice.” he says, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly with his free hand.

Three words is all it takes. Ice turns to fire. The blood that had drained from your face returns with the blaze of a thousand suns, anger burning your throat. 

You reach forward, grab the remote for the neon Open sign and click the power button. Jisung watches in confusion.

“The shop is closed.” you manage on a shaky breath.

Jisung sighs, something heavy. “Listen, I’m—”

“The shop–” you try again, louder, “–is closed.” 

Jisung stares. His eyes are still the same velvety brown; big and round and just as you remember. 

There was once a time where the sight of Jisung in your Grandma’s shop made your heart sing. A soft tune, the thrum of a thousand harps, a song only for him.

His heart-shaped smile as he helped her hammer some of the shelves onto the wall. The sound of his laughter whenever you’d enter a sneezing fit from accidentally rubbing your face with a gloved hand. His rosy cheeks, burnt from the wind whipping past his face as he ran on foot to make sure you were okay the one time an angry customer smashed a vase on the floor and you called him crying.

But now, seeing him here, a stranger in a body you once knew like the back of your hand— it feels wrong. 

“I…” he trails off, registering the way your fists are clenched at your sides. 

“Okay,” he resigns, licking his lips. “I, uh– have a good night.”

He gives you one last look, bottom lip pulled tight between his teeth, and then slips out the door. You watch his retreating figure through the glass panel, dark gray skies muting the sound of your rattling heart.

It’s February. The tulips are in bloom. Jisung is back.

And in Jeju– it rains.

There’s an apple tree in the middle of town where Jisung told you he loved you for the first and last time. 

Off the corner, a few minutes down the road from where your houses stand a mere five hundred feet away from one another.

Your grandparents were farmers. Your grandma started her floral business a few years before you were born, a dream she always had that your grandpa urged her to pursue once he decided to sell the animals to a younger, more capable couple that could take care of them. 

Jisung’s parents, new residents on the island, looking to settle down and start a family. 

That’s how it happens. Yours and Jisung’s story, two authors of the same book, destined since the start.

Jisung was born on the same night your mother left you at your grandparents’ doorstep. One note, an apology, is all you’ve ever known about her. Your grandma never cared to indulge you. You’re glad in a way. She provided more than enough love to make sure you never felt an absence in her wake. 

The townspeople used to say you and Jisung were soulmates. Something about the heavens knowing he would need a friend, hence why you were delivered that night. From that moment on, the two of you were inseparable. 

Attached at the hip, you and Jisung grew up together. First steps, first birthdays, firsts for everything under the sun.

Jisung was there in the morning to walk with you to school and he was there at night when the two of you tucked into bed, sleepovers a regular occurrence, both of you counting the pale green stick-on stars dotting his ceiling until you fell asleep. 

Jisung was always around. He held your hand and walked with you to the nurse’s office the first time you got stung by a bee. He wiped your eyes when the boy you liked told you he only ever saw you as a friend, your first rejection. He sat with you under the stars the night your grandpa died, your face tucked into his neck as you stained the collar of his shirt with tears until you were too tired to cry. In the years that followed, he took care of you and your grandma like the two of you were his own. 

Jisung, for lack of a better word, was your first forever.

“You could come with me, you know.” 

Under the stars, real ones that time, Jisung had turned to you and offered the world. 

The air was cold. The apple tree was bare.

“It’ll be fun. We’ll be together, we’ll experience new things. I can do music and you can study all that history stuff you like to learn about. You know, nerdy things.”

“They’re not nerdy things, Ji. Don’t you know everything we have now is because of what’s happened before us?” you’d asked. “Doesn’t it make you wonder? Learning about the past helps us better understand the present, and ultimately the future.”

Jisung had hummed softly, an agreement. “I don’t care about the future, though.” he’d said. “I care about right now. You, me, this.” 

When you turned to look at him, he propped himself up on one elbow and stared down at you from above as the moon casted a halo around his head. 

“I love you,” he whispered, “And I want you to come with me.”

Jisung, with all the stars in his eyes and a heart full of dreams. Jisung, with the world at his fingertips and the ambition to make it his own. 

You, with all your hopes stuffed tight into a suitcase and chained to a boulder, thrown into the ocean. Sinking and sinking until it hit the bottom.

“I love you too,” you whispered back.

Images of marigolds flashed behind your eyes when you closed them, a tear rolling down your cheek. Jisung’s mouth was soft when he kissed it away, salt on his lips. Burning. 

“But I can’t.” you choked. 

Under the apple tree, Jisung told you he loved you for the first and last time. He promised that the distance would be no match for him, that he would traverse oceans to find his way back. He promised forever.

It was February. The tulips were in bloom. Jisung left to pursue his dreams with a guitar on his back and your heart in his hands. Your understanding of forever was shot at point blank. The bullet passed clean through you. 

And in Jeju– it rained.

“I think you should talk to him.”

The sun is out today. Perfect weather for another field harvest. The distributor had called you early in the morning to ask if you’d be willing to accept a drop off even though it’s the weekend. You’d agreed, calling in your most reliable help for the job.

“And I think you’re not helping.” you huff, snipping the head off another hyacinth.

“Agreed,” Hyunjin parrots from beside you, currently in the middle of putting together an arrangement, “This guy sounds like a total dick.”

Chan sighs from behind the two of you, his knees knocking against the legs of the desk when he swivels back and forth in the chair. 

Besides Hyunjin and Jeongin, both of whom moved into town after you’d already graduated, and of course, Jisung– Chan is your oldest friend. 

Chan was also a neighbor of yours. Three years older than you and Jisung, he was the one who acted as a role model for the two of you when growing up. Nowadays he helps his parents run the largest orange grove on the island during the day and DJs one of the clubs in the tourism hub at night. 

“Jisung’s not a dick, he’s just–”

“An asshole.” you finish, smirking when Hyunjin cackles. 

Chan sighs. Again. “Yeah okay, I’ll give you that one.”

“Listen, I know I’ve never met him, but isn’t it weird that he just, like, showed up?” Hyunjin asks, setting down his scissors. You continue trimming the hyacinths, listening halfheartedly.

“I mean, think about it. Dude disappears to pursue music, right? He’s gone for what– three years?”

“Four.” you correct.

“God, even worse.” he grimaces.

“But yeah, okay, four years. And then boom! He just strolls in through the front door without so much as a word during the time he was gone? No letters, no phone calls, not even a damn visit. Nothing! All so he can pop up and go ‘oh, you look nice’? Come on.” he scoffs, crossing his arms.

You wince, caught off guard because you’ve never really heard it phrased as bluntly as Hyunjin put it just then. It’s no surprise that he’s annoyed, having only just heard the full story thirty minutes ago. He’d been shocked, partly because you never told him and also because he just couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

“Okay, yes, he was wrong for that. But isn’t part of you even just the least bit curious as to why?” 

You pause mid-snip, mulling Chan’s words over in your head.

The most frustrating part about it all is that you are curious. You wish you weren’t, though. Not when you’ve spent the past four years trying to convince yourself that you don’t need to know what Jisung’s been up to, don’t need to know if he’s been okay since he clearly held no concern for you in that regard anyways.

“What?” you ask when you realize that both boys are staring at you. 

“Well?” Hyunjin pushes. “Are you?”

You shrug. “No, not really.” 

There’s a total of five seconds that pass before Hyunjin is stomping over and hauling Chan up out of his chair, pushing him towards the front door as he protests.

“Out! Out, out, out, we have important business matters to discuss.”

“But we were supposed to get lunch—!”

“We’re taking a rain check!” Hyunjin fights back, shoving him out of the shop before he has a chance to answer. He drops the shade to cover the glass, Chan’s sad figure left alone on the other side.

You gape at him. “What was that for?”

Hyunjin scoffs. “You think you’re convincing? Think again.” 

He hops up on to the counter and gestures for you to do the same. When you do, he pulls you closer, grabs your hand in his, and pushes your head down until it’s resting on his shoulder. 

“Tell me the truth now,” he says, soft. “I know there’s more to it.”

Hyunjin’s warm to the touch. The heat seeps through the fabric of his shirt, igniting the skin of your cheek until you feel like you’re standing too close to the sun. A star. Hyunjin is a light in your tunnel.

“I am curious,” you start, “About him, I mean. I’ve– I don’t know. It’s been so long. I tried to pretend I didn’t care when I saw him, but the minute I looked into his eyes it was like I was eighteen again. Eighteen and happy and looking at someone that I always thought would be there, you know?” 

Hyunjin hums but doesn’t say anything. He squeezes your hand once, a signal to keep going. 

“I’m scared, though. Part of me doesn’t want to know.”

Hyunjin takes a deep breath. “What are you scared of?”

Through the gaps in the beads you can see into your office, the picture of your Grandma hanging on the wall. She stares at you, unblinking. 

“What if he tells me that it’s true?” you ask, lifting your head to look up at him. “What if he says that I was right, that he didn’t care? That he left and didn’t want to call because it no longer mattered to him? That he loves his life there and only came back to clear his own conscience?” 

“Oh honey,” Hyunjin soothes, pulling you into his chest. You hadn’t realized you were crying, that the anger and fear had bubbled over until there were tears falling down your cheeks, wetting the fabric of Hyunjin’s sweater. 

He lets you cry for a while. It’s nothing new; Hyunjin has seen you break down countless times. He’s been there through the worst of it, held your hand even in the aftermath. He’s picked you up off the floor more times than you can count, has grounded you when you felt like the world was gonna open up beneath you and swallow you whole. Salt of the earth, returning you to its core.

Once you’ve quieted into nothing more than shallow breaths and a few scattered hiccups, Hyunjin speaks again.

“Can you be honest with me?”

You nod, the hair stuck to your cheek with tears rubbing against his shoulder. 

“Do you love him?”

It nearly knocks the wind out of you. This concept, so foreign to you now, shoved to the back of your mind to make room for the things that matter most. Hospital visits, labor cuts, wage increases— none of it left any room for love, let alone the thought of someone else. Especially someone as all-consuming as Jisung.

Slowly, you inhale, breath shaking on the exhale. Hyunjin squeezes your hand to remind you that he’s there.

“I don’t think I ever stopped, Hyune.”

The silence stretches thin. The realization is dizzying. Years of suppressed emotions, of telling yourself and everyone around you that it wasn’t a big deal. The sad eyes of the townspeople whenever they’d see you sitting beneath the apple tree. The gentle touch of your grandma’s hand when she’d find you on the front steps alone, staring at the stars. The soft hum of the radio in the shop, set to a playlist of all the songs he’s written, the only reminder that somewhere out there he was doing well.

The final crack in the dam, its water pushing until it gives way.

“Then you owe it to yourself,” Hyunjin says. “You owe it to your heart to get an answer. Free yourself from this pain, love. Don’t let yourself suffer forever.”

Forever. That word again. No matter how many times you’ve tried to escape it, it always comes back.

“It’s gonna hurt.” he sighs, tightening his grip when you sniffle. “It’s gonna hurt so fucking bad, babe. But you can take it. You’ve got people who love you enough to stand in front of you and soften the blow from time to time. But you’ll be okay. I’ll make sure of it.”

He hops down from the counter and moves to stand in front of you, right between your legs. Placing both hands on your shoulders, he pushes until you’re sitting with your back straight and lifts your chin. 

“You deserve an answer.” he says, with conviction this time. “Okay?”

He lets his thumb swipe beneath your eyes, smiles softly. Unconditional— that’s what he is. Hyunjin burns brighter than any star in your sky, the heat wrapping its arms around you like it’s too scared to let go, to watch you freeze and die out like so many others. 

“I don’t deserve you, though.” you say, laughing wetly when he rolls his eyes.

“Shut up,” he chuckles, pulling you in for a hug, “You deserve everything and more.”

When Jisung comes into the shop two days later, you’re ready for it. 

Chan had talked to him. No surprise, really, not when he’s been letting him crash in his spare room ever since he figured out that he was holed up in one of the hotels out in the tourism hub. 

If there’s one thing about Chan, it’s that he’d rip the shirt off his back to clothe anyone in need. Housing a friend is nothing, especially when that friend is Jisung.

“I don’t know how much of a consolation this is,” he’d said nervously, watching as you regarded him with an expectant look, “But he’s pretty cut up about you not wanting to see him. Which, I know, is stupid. He is the one who fucked up. But I just– I don’t know. I’ve never seen him like this, I guess.”

It’s not a consolation, not really. Knowing that Jisung is struggling is far from anything you want to hear. 

Sure, there’s anger present. Anyone would be stupid to not feel the least bit frustrated with what’s happened. Years lost, time stripped away. But you’ve long since come to terms with it, the anger turning to sadness in the meantime.

“Also, he leaves tomorrow.” Chan smiled sadly. “He really wants to talk to you before then.”

Hyunjin left early again today to give the two of you space. Not before making a show of his own though, threatening to incite violence with his arms that are supposedly ‘shredded’ from years of lifting boxes filled with petunias. 

The shop is slow again, not many sales nor a lot of foot traffic. Usually when the sun is out there’s more to do; people to see, smiles to give. But there’s nothing, just the chirping of birds and the sound of cars rolling by. 

Maybe the world knows that this is what you need. The calm before the storm. 

Five minutes until close. You’ve spent most of the day pacing back and forth. Waiting. Anticipating. 

Chan had said Jisung planned on stopping by, trying again. You’d told him that was okay, and his eyes lit up. Too much hope, maybe, that something might come of this. 

You’re seated in the back office, staring at marigold colored irises when the front door opens. You hear it this time, ears fine tuned, waiting. 

Slowly, you stand, make your way to the front. You don’t realize you’re holding your breath until you pull back the beaded curtain and Jisung’s figure comes into view. 

He looks the same as he did the other day: curled hair, thick glasses, parted lips. His sweater, fluffy and striped, hangs off of his shoulders in a way that boxes off his tapered waist, one that you know is hidden beneath all the layers. The sleeves are way too long judging by the way it curls over his fingers. 

“Hi.” he breathes out, watching as you step into full view.

You blink. “Hi, Jisung.”

His name feels weird on your tongue. Bitter. It’s been years since you uttered it, forbidding yourself from the luxury out of fear that it would make his absence more real. Talking about him in the past tense always scared you off before you could even get the chance. 

“How– How’ve you been?” he chews on the inside of his lip.

You want to scold him, tell him to stop the habit just like you always would in the past. He’d make a joke then, tell you to kiss him so that he had something else to do instead. You would laugh, feign disgust, but in the back of your mind you’d wanted it more than anything. 

You’d waited for it, the day you could kiss him without warning and melt into his touch as he kissed you back. Another stupid bet on forever; the belief that you had all the time in the world for things to get to that point.

“I’ve been better.” you say, taking a deep breath. “What about you?”

Good, you think. He’s been good. He looks good. He doesn’t need this place.

“Me too.” he says instead. “I’ve been better.”

You don’t know what to say to that. Silence fills the room, heavy on both your chests. The anticipation feels like it might kill you before anything else does. 

“I’m sorry that–”

“Is that all you came here to say?” you cut him off.

“What?” he asks, confused. “No, I– no.”

“What, then? What is it you want to say, Jisung?” your voice is firm. He winces when his name leaves your mouth. “Because, honestly, I’ve waited all this time to hear literally anything from you, and if all that comes out of this is that you’ve ‘been better’ I might actually lose my fucking mind.”

The words tumble out faster than you intend. You can’t help it, not with the way anxiety has been bubbling over in your chest since the moment you woke up this morning. You could barely sleep last night, not when you were playing out every possible scenario in your head, the anticipation of it all making your sheets feel scratchy against your skin and the lumps in your pillow more discernible. 

“No, no, of course I wouldn’t do that.” he says quickly. “It's just that I didn’t know where to start. I don’t know how much you’ll allow me to say, what the boundary is here. I didn’t want to just barge in and demand you listen to me. You don’t owe me that. You don’t owe me anything. Not after what I did.”

What I did, his voice rings loud in your ears. He’s aware of it, of the pain he caused. 

He takes a step forward, and then another, again and again until he’s right up against the front counter, an arm’s length away. 

Your breath catches then, when you see him up close for the first time in four years, see the way he’s grown and changed with your own eyes. 

Stubble dotting his chin, laugh lines around his mouth, the dip and curve of the bow above his lips that you always loved. Brown eyes, soil and stardust. 

“Tell me what your conditions are,” he says quietly, “And I’ll give you every explanation I have.”

The sincerity on his face is blinding. Your stomach twists at the thought of hearing what he has to say, that same fear brewing in the pit of it. You take a deep breath, feel the phantom ghost of a hand squeezing yours and a crescent moon eye smile. 

“I waited four years for you.” you say.

“I know.”

“I trusted that you’d be back. That you would keep in touch during the time you were gone.”

“I–” his voice cracks. “I know.”

“You lied to me.”

Jisung tips his head back then. Swallows down a lump in his throat. Blinks rapidly at the ceiling, veins of ivy crawling along the expanse of it.

“I know.”

“So you owe me everything. I deserve that. I deserve answers.”

When he brings his head down to look at you, it’s unreadable. A mix of emotions that you aren’t familiar enough with anymore to decipher. Fear, guilt, sorrow. Hope, too. Maybe.

You stare at him head on, fully letting your eyes meet for the first time in what feels like an eternity. He holds your gaze, unwavering. Determined. The sight makes your heart clench. 

“Okay,” he says after a beat of silence. “Okay. I can do that.”

Despite the ever-growing mountain of things to address, you decide that the first thing you want to hear from Jisung is about his time in Seoul. 

You’re only human, after all.

Best friends from the start– you can’t stop yourself from wondering what life has been like for him. Jisung’s always been good at storytelling, animated in his features and gestures to the point that you’d be rolling around and clutching your stomach from laughter. It’s one of the things you missed the most, just talking and being present in one another’s lives.

The two of you end up at one of the diners down the road. The owners, an elderly couple, coo as soon as they catch sight of you.

“My flower girl,” the old lady, Mrs. Kim, greets.

“Mrs. Kim,” you beam, moving in for a hug. When you pull away, Jisung is behind you, hands clasped behind his back and feet together like he has his tail between his legs.

“Halmeoni,” you say, gesturing at him, “Do you remember Jisungie?” 

His eyes go wide at the nickname, and you try to ignore the heat creeping up your neck, avoiding his gaze and instead watching as Mrs. Kim blinks in surprise.

“Oh! Oh my goodness, our Jisungie? Honey! Honey, look, Jisung is here! Oh you crazy boy,” she scolds, rushing forward to hit his shoulder and pull him in for a hug. “Where have you been? It’s been ages!” 

Jisung lets out an oof! as her body slams into him, all of his anxiousness dissolving into laughter as he hugs her back. 

“Hi Mrs. Kim, how have you been?” 

“Me?” she asks, pulling him away to hold at arm’s length, “Nevermind about me! I’m old! How have you been?”

Good, you think again, a mimic of earlier. Jisungs eyes flit over to yours for the smallest of moments before he answers.

“Better,” he says. “I’m doing better.”

Once both Mr. and Mrs. Kim are done doting over the both of you, they seat you by the window.

The island is always beautiful on sunny days: trees swaying, golden rays painting the rooftops in hues of pink and orange, the indigo shimmer of the ocean off in the distance.

“So,” you say, catching Jisung’s attention, “Tell me about Seoul.”

He hums. “It’s busy. Stinks. Lots of people.”

“Dream come true, yeah?” you joke, taking a sip of your water.

Jisung chuckles. “You could say that, I guess.”

“I mean, it was yours.”

“It was.” he sighs, looking down at the table. “I don’t know. It’s nice. I met good people, made even better connections. I live in this one bedroom studio apartment just outside of Itaewon, so I’m close to where all the foreigners hang out. I’ve learned a lot, gained a lot of inspiration for my music.”

You follow along, staring at him intently. His mouth, still heart-shaped, twitches when he catches you in the act.

You clear your throat, glancing away. “Yeah, I’ve– uh, I’ve heard some of your songs.”

He raises his eyebrows, almost like he hadn’t expected you to say that. “Really?”

“Yeah. I mean, I hear them on the radio sometimes.” A lie. “It usually takes me a second to realize that it’s you.” Another lie. “But they’re good, you’re doing well.”

Pink dusts the tops of Jisung’s cheeks as he turns back to the window, clearing his throat.

He looks younger like this, like he’s still the same boy who would sit across from you all those years ago. Cherry-stained lips and a smile so bright it put the sun to shame.

He talks a bit more about his music, about how he’s with a good company that gives him creative freedom and enough support to pursue more if he desires.

His eyes light up when he tells you about his studio, a small room on the fifth floor of a building in the middle of the city where he does all of his writing. It’s equipped with an entire soundboard, full of instruments that he says he’s been able to get signed by artists that come in and out. Most notably, his guitar, the same one he left with. 

Slowly, like a flower blossoming, petals opening one by one, you feel yourself falling back into step with him.

Everything is so familiar: the curve of his smile, the tilt in his voice when he gets excited, the rumble of laughter when he recounts an embarrassing run-in with an A-list celebrity in the company’s cafeteria. He shares stories that fill your heart as the two of you fill your stomachs.

But with the ease comes something more, something you recognize as longing. You hadn’t realized how much you longed to be there through this part of his life, how you wished you’d been the one to answer a video call as he showed off his apartment the first day he moved in, his company badge when it was newly issued, every moment of happiness that you’d been absent for just as much as he was absent for yours.

He seems to share the same sentiment then, when he sets down his fork and stares at his empty plate. 

“You run the shop now,” he says, “How’s that been?”

You purse your lips, nodding your head slowly. You knew this conversation would happen, that it was coming.

“It’s good, I guess. Been almost a year now since, uh, it was left to me.” you shrug. “I’m not alone though, Hyunjin is a big help. I don’t know what I’d do without him.”

Jisung noticeably bristles. Eyebrows pulled together, staring more intently at a crumb on his plate. It looks like there’s a lot he wants to say, like he can’t find the words to say them.

So, naturally, you do it for him. 

“I assume Chan told you so I wouldn’t have to, by the way.”

He looks up then, as if he wasn’t expecting you to address the very obvious elephant in the room.

“He did, yes.” Jisung says after a while. His voice is quiet, gentle, like he’s walking on eggshells. “I– I didn’t know how to bring it up. I assume you’ve heard it all already but– I really, really am sorry to hear about Nana.”

The way her name sounds coming out of his mouth turns your mind to static.

Suddenly you’re in the hospital again, monitors beeping, hands as soft as petals cradled in your own and wishing that you could bury your face in a familiar neck as you cried and watched the marigolds wilt. 

“I don’t need an apology for that.” you croak, blinking back tears. Jisung is somewhere in your periphery, your vision blurry around the edges.

“It wasn’t sad. Her life, I mean. It was full. Of love. Of light. She left this place happy. That’s what she told me, at least.”

You take a deep breath. “So don’t be sorry about it.”

Jisung sniffles, and the sound shoots straight through your chest. 

“I know. I just– I’m sorry I wasn’t here. I should’ve been. I had no idea that–”

“Nobody did, Jisung. Don’t punish yourself for that.”

He sees it then, when you finally meet his eyes, the acceptance. You’ve come to terms with things a long time ago, have fought tooth and nail to come out on the other side of all the guilt and resentment and grief alive. Scathed, but alive nonetheless.

“You’re right.” he sighs, wiping at his eyes quickly. “She’d probably yell at me for saying that.”

You laugh, suddenly, the noise startling him. Jisung looks at you like you’re crazy.

“I think she has a lot more to yell at you for than being sorry that she died.”

The bluntness punches a chuckle out of him, and you giggle at the thought.

Your grandmother was always such an outspoken person. She always said what was on her mind, speaking it loud. There’s no doubt that if she was here she’d be berating Jisung, smacking him upside the head before pulling him into a hug and cooking his favorite meal. Tough love, but still, love.

“She would’ve loved to be able to see you.” you say once your laughter dies out, the air a bit lighter between the two of you. “She always wondered if you’d grow your hair out without her around to nag you about keeping it short.” 

He reaches up to run a hand through his curls, the strands falling around his face in a way that has your heart stammering in your chest.

“Well, clearly I don’t know how to listen.”

“No, you don’t.”

Jisung smiles softly. “Maybe I’ll cut it now. You know, since I’m here. And because I know she’d want me to.”

You watch him carefully, searching his eyes. For what, you don’t know. All that’s in them are stars. 

“Yeah,” you say quietly. “You’re here.”

By the time the two of you leave the diner, stomachs full and enough bags of extra side dishes hanging off of your arms to last you at least two weeks, courtesy of Mrs. Kim, the sun is almost fully set. 

The ocean is calm, the evening breeze just barely brushing the surface of the tide. Jisung walks in step with you down the street, one side of his face cast in a glow from the sun’s fading rays. 

“Do you think you’d maybe want to stop by the arcade that Old Man Park runs? Just for a little?”

You snort. “Why? So I can embarrass you?”

“Hey!” he puts a hand on his chest, offended. “I’ll have you know that I let you win all those times.”

“How do you let someone win after spending hours practicing while I worked at the shop?”

“I was being nice!”

“Uh huh.”

“Don’t believe me?” he grins. You try not to look, afraid of how bad your blood pressure might spike from the sight. 

“I’ll have you know that I’m one of the best Kart Rider players in the PC Bang scene back in Seoul.”

“Jisung,” you scold, “That’s a computer game. These are coin-ops. There’s way more skill needed.”

“No there isn’t!”

He knocks his shoulder against yours, tucking his chin to his chest to hide his smile when you try to fight back.

It’s easy. Nice. There’s a soft melody echoing in the dust-covered chambers of your heart. You still know all the chords.

Old Man Park’s arcade is a few doors down from the shop. You stop there to drop off the food, spare a glance in the mirror hanging in your office to fix your hair.

Your grandma’s picture stares at you from the other wall, eyes bright.

“Love you,” you say, kissing the skin of your fingertips and pressing it gently against the frame.

Jisung is toeing at a few rocks on the sidewalk when you walk back out. He doesn’t see you, too busy with his eyes casted down at the concrete, hands shoved into his pockets. 

It’s still hard to believe that he’s here. Flesh and bone. For a long time it felt like he was nothing but a distant dream, someone who only existed in the memories that you kept locked deep within your heart, the key somewhere on the streets of Seoul.

“Ready?” you ask.

He looks up, his glasses moving when his cheeks round into a smile.

Something passes across his face– a myriad of emotions in just a fraction of a second. Hesitantly, he holds out his hand. Long, delicate fingers.

You stare at it, swallowing roughly around the butterfly wings flapping inside your throat. 

The one thing you shouldn’t do, my dear, is rely on forever. Because that, too, is uncertain.

Forever isn’t promised. But even then, there are things you know for sure:

It’s February. The tulips are in bloom. Jisung is here. Living, breathing, in the flesh. 

So you take his hand, watch as relief floods his features, and let yourself feel.

The wind in your hair, the calluses on Jisung’s palms, and the warmth radiating out of the smile that threatens to split his face into two.

And with that certainty, the two of you start walking. A silent agreement to focus on the now.

You. Him. This.

“God, I can’t believe everything is only one coin.”

You laugh, watching as the multi-colored lights cast a glow on Jisung’s face. 

“Stop acting like you don’t remember this place.”

“I don’t!” he argues, smiling. “We stopped coming here, what, in middle school? Once Chan hyung started driving? We would always ask him to take us to the other one out in the big town!”

Chan’s first car was an old Camry with leather seats and enough room for the three of you to pile into after school. Used, but still with enough juice to satisfy three young kids who felt like they were on top of the world.

You used to sit in the back, the wind whipping your hair every which way while yours and Jisung’s hands lay side by side in the middle seat, pinkies brushing but neither of you willing to take it further. 

“Oh, shit!” Jisung gasps, letting go of your hand as he runs up to the space invaders machine. 

“Here we go,” you sigh, following after him. He’s like a kid in a candy store, face filled with innocent wonder and joy.

“Aren’t there, like, I don’t know– things better than this in Seoul?” you ask as he shoves a coin into the game.

Jisung turns to look at you with a devilish grin. “Obviously,” he says, “But I can’t beat anyone’s high score over there. Here though? Ha! This place is ancient. I can finally be at the top of the leaderboard in something.”

“We’ll see about that.” you mumble, the noise of the game booting up drowning you out. 

Jisung sticks his tongue out when he focuses really hard on things. It’s cute, the way the end of it sits between his lips, spit-slick and parted just a little bit.

He’s glowing, probably because of the lights, hues of red and green and blue flashing across his face. But then again, Jisung has always shined brighter than anything. 

The game beeps to signal that he has one life left. He grunts a few times, his fingers tapping the buttons madly as his other hand handles the joystick in a frenzy of movements.

When it ends, he groans, throws his hands up in defeat.. 

You shake your own head knowingly, watching his eyes bug out of their sockets as soon as the leaderboard appears on the screen, the 8-bit letters blinking at him. 

“You’re joking.” he laughs in disbelief, turning to stare at you. “Please tell me you’re joking.” 

There, on the screen, is your name. The highest score. Jeongin and Hyunjin’s names sit just below you, respectively.

“What was that again about finally being able to be at the top?” you mock him, smirking.

“Since when did you get good at this?”

You shrug. “Had to find something to do in my free time.”

“No,” he says, rolling up his sleeves. “Nuh-uh. No way. This is not happening. I will beat you.” he holds out his hand for another coin, to which you roll your eyes and place one in his palm. 

“You might as well give up now. We’ll be here all night.”

“In your dreams.” he scoffs, assuming his position as another round loads onto the screen.  

Jisung has always been competitive. It’s one of his more hidden characteristics. 

It persists still, you realize, as you watch him burn through the styrofoam cup of coins that Old Man Park had given the two of you. Free of charge for old time’s sake.

Fort-five minutes. All he’s managed to do is bump Hyunjin down to fourth.

“Ugh!” he groans, kicking the machine lightly with his foot. 

“Look at you throwing a tantrum.”

“I’m not throwing a tantrum.” he pouts. You raise an eyebrow.

“Okay fine. I’m throwing a tantrum.” 

“Thought so.”

“Can you blame me?” he asks. “This is, like, our first date. And I’m sucking. Hard.”

“Our–” you stop, eyes wide. Jisung mimics you, almost like he didn’t mean to say what he did. 

Heat rushes to your cheeks. Your mind goes blank. But the world doesn’t end. Time keeps moving. Jisung is still here.

“I didn’t–”

“I like the sound of that.” you say quickly. “Of this being our first date, I mean.’

He smiles. Slow and sweet like molasses. Blinding.

“And the fact that you suck.”

The moment is shattered, his resulting whine echoing throughout the arcade.

“Come on you big baby,” you laugh, grabbing his hand. “I know a game you can beat me at.”

He lets himself be pulled, pretending that he’s upset, but you can see the smile tugging at his lips when you lace your fingers together.

The feeling is still new, this ease you have with him. The wounds you sported all those years are still healing, some more fresh than others. But with each laugh that comes out of Jisung’s mouth and shared glance, every note that your heart sings, you can feel them beginning to fade. A balm to soothe the burn.

The Pac-Man game is situated in the back corner of the arcade, right next to the jukebox. It used to be your favorite, because Jisung would always use his own coins to play songs for you while you tried to score higher than twenty-five thousand points. 

When you get there, he frowns. “The only game you think I can beat you at is Pac-Man?” 

“I don’t think,” you say, grabbing a coin before shoving the cup into his chest. “I know.”

The game boots up instantly, and you smile softly to yourself when Jisung moves wordlessly behind you, slips a coin into the jukebox.

“Play something good, Jisungie.”

He freezes. Out of the corner of your eye you watch him stare at you for a long moment. And then he smiles. Stardust.

“You got it.”

In a matter of seconds, Lovers In A Dangerous Time by Bruce Cockburn rings throughout the arcade, the speakers on the ceiling fighting past the static.

An old song. The same one your grandparents would dance to in the mornings, eggs on the stove and love in the air.

Your grandma used to say it was written for them, because when they fell in love the war was at its peak and she didn’t know if he’d ever come home. 

After he passed, she still played it, except those times it was Jisung who twirled her around and painted a smile on her face as you watched from the same spot you grew up in. Always there.

Jisung, Jisung, Jisung. 

When the game starts, you try your best. It’s hard. You’ve always been terrible at anything involving quick decisions. Focusing on everything at once isn’t easy for you, that much is still true. 

“Shit.” you mumble, the top right corner of the screen reading ten thousand points as the ghosts run into you.

Jisung lets out a low whistle. “Harsh.”

“You wanna go back to space invaders and waste the last of our money?” you raise an eyebrow. 

He holds his hands up in surrender. “Sorry, sorry. Go ahead.” he says, holding the cup out for you to take another coin. 

You try a couple more times, failing each and every one. You can tell that Jisung is growing more and more amused with every attempt, and the smugness radiating off of him is starting to rub you the wrong way.

“If you’re so good,” you say after a particularly sad attempt, turning to glare at him. Jisung has his lips pulled tight to stop himself from laughing. “Then why don’t you try?”

He chuckles then. “I’d rather help you, if you’ll let me.”

“How are you supposed to do that? We only have one coin left.”

Jisung doesn’t say anything. He puts the cup down, the last coin held between his fingers. You watch as he slips it into the machine, move to get out of his way once he’s done, but he stops you by grabbing your hand and spinning you back around, his fingers placed over yours on the joystick. 

With your back flush against his front, caged in by his arms on either side, Jisung takes a deep breath.

“This okay?” he asks right next to your ear, the curls on the side of his head brushing your cheek when he leans down to get a better look at the screen.

Warm. He’s so warm. The material of his sweater only worsens the heat, and the faint scent of vanilla makes your head swim.

It’s more than okay. Great, even. It’s Jisung. Everything and more.

“Yeah,” you say, letting him control your hands as he flicks the joystick. “It’s okay.”

The hair against your cheek moves when he smiles. “Good.” he says, and then hits the start button.

The game begins but you’re barely processing what’s happening, too aware of the feeling of his body pressed against yours. 

A firm chest, different from what’s observable on the outside, what with the fluffiness of his sweater and soft features. His arms too, encasing you, the bulge and flex of his biceps every time he moves.

It’s all so intoxicating, so much so that you don’t even realize you’ve beaten the highest score in the system by the time he loses his last life. 

“What?” you blink. “What the hell?!”

You laugh, spinning to face Jisung who’s grinning from ear to ear. In your excitement, you jump, flinging your arms around his neck. He’s surprised, but catches you nonetheless, circling his arms around your waist.

“Holy shit how’d you do that!” you squeal while he swings you around, feet off the ground.

“Magic, I guess.” he chuckles. 

The closeness of his voice brings you crashing back down, suddenly aware of what position you’re both in. You pull back quickly, clear your throat, and watch as his face falls from the loss of contact.

It’s been a long time since you hugged Jisung. The thought transports you to that day four years ago, standing under the apple tree, the future uncertain. Forever promised.

Things are different now.

“Sorry,” he backtracks. “I didn’t– um, I wasn’t trying to–”

You cut him off by throwing yourself at him for a second time. Intentional. Breathless. Tired of running and acting like it’s not the thing you want most in the entire world.

Jisung doesn’t react until he feels your face against the skin of his neck. On instinct, he hugs tight, hands around your waist, breathing in the smell of your hair.

“Hi.” you whisper against him. 

One word. Simple. However the weight of it sends a chill down his spine. It feels like home. 

He tightens his hold. A silent understanding. The two of you never had much of a need for words anyways. 

“Hi.” he whispers back.

The apple tree is much bigger now.

Long, thick branches, a wide trunk, a slight tilt in its shape.

It’s bare. The season is long gone. But it’s okay, because it means that the view of the stars isn’t blocked when you and Jisung lay beneath it.

It’s the same but it isn’t. There’s gaps– periods of time where the two of you grew separately. There are moments and memories tucked away that neither of you know about, whole lives to discover. 

But even so, it feels right. His arm wrapped around you, your head on his chest. The stars and the moon. You and Jisung.

It’s nice. Perfect, even. But there’s a conversation that needs to be had. One that can’t be put off any longer.

“Ji.”

“Hm?”

“Can I ask you something?”

Jisung shifts beneath you, tightening his hold. The grass is damp. Neither of you care, too caught up in each other to stress about whether or not it’ll stain.

“Of course.”

“Am I ever gonna see you again?”

He takes a deep breath. “Yes.”

“You said that last time.”

“I know.”

“So what makes this different?” you ask, sitting up. He watches you carefully, eyes trained on every movement like he’s scared you’ll get up and run away.

When he realizes you’re waiting for an answer, he sits up too, pulls his knees to his chest and wraps his arms around his legs. 

He doesn’t say anything, just wordlessly reaches into his pocket. Silently, he hands whatever he grabbed to you. A guitar pick.

It’s white, a marbled design. Golden flecks infused into the lines. There, on the front, is a singular marigold. When you flip it over, you’re met with a tulip. 

“Do you remember that one time, when you called me crying at midnight because Nana told you that she didn’t know if she’d be able to afford school in the city?”

You nod silently, still turning the guitar pick over in your hand. 

It was one of those nights where the rain was relentless. Monsoon season always tagged on to the tail end of the school year, bringing with it a more intense gloominess than usual. 

You’d been angry. Stressed. Irritated that other kids at school were making plans to go to the mainland for college and you were stuck helping your grandmother trim foliage and wrap vases in newspaper.

“You told me that you couldn’t do it anymore.” Jisung whispered, staring up at the sky. “That you were tired of being here. That you needed to get out.”

You remember. Jisung had walked through the rain to show up at your window. Had climbed in with muddy shoes and sat on the floor of your room with you until the downpour stopped and your tears dried.

“And I said that I would make it happen, that I would invent a way to live amongst the stars so you could be as far from here as possible.”

“So what?” you ask, looking at him. “Did you finally do it, then? Is that why you came back?”

“Don’t be like that.”

“No, Jisung, I’m gonna fucking be like that.” you scoff, rising to your feet. 

There’s a fire in your veins, stoked until the embers are burning hot against your throat. Too good to be true. You should’ve known that there was no explanation left for him to give.

Jisung scrambles to his feet. “It wasn’t like I wanted to–”

“Oh like hell you did.” you say, turning to face him. “Four years, Jisung. I waited four years and you just– you come back and decide to tell me about some make-believe bullshit to save yourself and feel less guilty about the fact that you left.”

“It wasn’t make-believe to me,” he argues. “It was real. Everything I said was real. I left and I tried for years to make something of myself so I could come back here and get you.”

“Oh so it’s my fault? I made you leave, is that it?”

“That’s not what I said.”

“So then say something else!” you yell. The stars rumble, threatening to fall out of the sky. “Say something else, then, Jisung. Why didn’t you call? Huh?”

“Because I–” he stops, licks his lips. “God. Fuck. I couldn’t face you if I had nothing to show for myself, okay? It wasn’t fair to you for me to leave you behind just so I could fail.”

“Ha!” you laugh, running a hand through your hair in disbelief. “So you decided to go radio silent instead? Decided to not only leave me alone but let me suffer and wonder about where you were because that’s so much better than telling me that you were struggling, right? Great choice, Jisung. Really.”

He blinks a few times, watching as you pace back and forth in the grass. 

Anger bubbles deep in your gut. This whole time, he knew. It was a conscious decision. Jisung deliberately didn’t contact you because he chose not to.

“Did you ever even love me?”

The words tumble out before you can stop them. Jisung’s entire body goes rigid, his face falling and eyes hardening within a fraction of a second.

“Watch what you say.” he says, his voice low in his chest.

“I wouldn’t have to if you’d just be honest.”

“I’m trying.” he pleads. His eyes are glossy. Big and round behind his glasses. Illuminated by the moon. 

“I fucked up, okay? I prioritized myself and the way I felt over you and fucked everything up. But I tried. I tried so fucking hard. And I’m sorry it took me so long but I wanted– no–  I needed to make sure that I had everything figured out before I came back. I promised I would.”

“No, Jisung, you promised me that–”

“I’m not talking about you.” he says then, taking a deep breath. “You weren’t the only one I made promises to back then.”

Before you have a chance to speak, Jisung says, “I promised her. I told her I’d get you out of here. That I’d give you a life that you deserved, because she knew she couldn’t.”

You drop to your knees when the first sob hits, the force of it racking your body so hard you feel like you’re drowning. Jisung catches you on the fall, holds you up, lets you bury your face into his neck like he had so many times before.

“She told me you believed in forever. She wanted me to give that to you. I’m sorry it took me so long.”

Jisung lets you cry. He holds you through the storm, your wails as loud as thunder and tears as heavy as rain. Four years in the making; the sky and the earth colliding until the dirt and layers of sediment give way to the molten core that’s been hiding beneath the surface all along.

Pain. Grief. All of it pent up and leading to this moment. 

“You should’ve told me.” you cry, beating a fist into Jisung’s chest. “You idiot. You fucking idiot. You should’ve told me.” 

Jisung pulls you in closer, takes each hit as long as it means that it’ll soften the blow on your heart. He whispers apologies in your ear, runs a hand through your hair. 

When it quiets again, the worst of the storm gone, he shifts so that your head is in his lap, his legs crossed and tucked beneath him. A few stray tears wet the fabric of his jeans, your eyes focused on the field of flowers across the street.

“I won’t ask you to come with me.” he says after a long while, when your breathing has evened out. “I know that things are different. You have a life here that you’ve made for yourself, responsibilities to bear as well.”

He pauses to push a few strands of hair out of your face. His fingers are gentle against the skin of your cheek.

“But I promise it’ll be different. I spent too long away from you, was too selfish for my own good. I won’t disappear again. I’ll call every day. I’ll visit. You’ll get every part of me that I kept away from you all this time, and I’ll get every part of you in return.”

Your heart thrums. The thought of having what you’ve wanted for so long. Of having Jisung.

“And when you’re ready, when you feel like you can’t do it anymore, there’ll be a place for you.”

His voice is firm. Confident. More sure than he’s ever sounded before in his life.

When you turn to face him, he’s already staring back. Jisung, with all the stars in his eyes and a heart full of dreams. Jisung, with the world at his fingertips and the offer to make it yours.

Under the apple tree, Jisung leans down and kisses you for the first time. Twenty four years in the making, soft and slow, his lips a perfect fit against yours. A starboy and his flower girl. His glow is so bright it makes blossoms sprout from her fingertips.

Soft curls tickle your eyelids when he pulls away to rest his forehead against yours. You reach up to run a hand through them, smiling softly when he presses a kiss to the tip of your nose. 

“I love you.” you say first this time. 

He reaches out a hand, closes it over your fist that’s still clutching the guitar pick. A marigold and a tulip, both working together to make a perfect harmony. 

“I love you, too.” Jisung whispers back. “Forever.”

Jisung stops by the shop early to say goodbye.

There’s less tears this time, less of a reason to be sad. But still, when he wraps his arms around you, vanilla filling your nose and curls against your face, you feel your composure crumble.

“Every day.” he says, repeating the same thing he did all night. “I promise. Morning and night. Also at lunch. Oh, and on your days off. Matter of fact, you can call when you’re on the toilet too.”

The last part earns him an elbow to the ribs, his laughter bubbling up and out of his throat as he tries to dodge any and all subsequent attacks.

He kisses you stupid before he goes, Chan rolling his eyes from his car out front. You flip him off blindly, Jisung’s lips still attached to yours, earning a loud honk in response.

When he leaves, the shop is quiet, the only sound being the buzzing of your phone as Jisung blows it up with text messages the second the car pulls away.

You’re too busy replying, giggling to yourself when a slew of cute emoticons start appearing one by one, that you nearly fall over out of your chair when Hyunjin bursts through the door.

“Jesus Christ Hyune, did you have to–”

“What the hell are you doing here?” he asks, breathless. 

“Uh,” you blink, glancing round. “Working?”

“Is Jisung not on a damn plane right now?”

“I mean he’s on his way to the airport. Chan is–”

“Chan hyung told me that Jisung wanted you to go with him.” Hyunjin says, brow furrowed.

You sigh. “He didn’t want me to go with him. Well, okay, he did. But I told him I can’t just pick up and leave. He knows that. Nana left this place to me and–”

“You are so stupid.” Hyunjin sighs. 

“Excuse me?” you ask. You stand up, crossing your arms as you walk closer to the counter. 

“Come on. We have to go.”

“Go where, Hyunjin? I’m not leaving to–”

He cuts you off, places an envelope on the wooden surface. “And I am not letting you stay here and pretend that this is what you want.”

“What is that?” 

“A plane ticket.” he says, pushing it towards you. “To Seoul.”

Your mouth opens and closes, lost for words. Hyunjin is already moving around the counter, pushing past you with an expression the most serious you’ve ever seen on him.

“Hyunjin I– I can’t– where did you even…?”

“Chan hyung has a friend.” he mumbles as he begins pulling stuff out of the office. Your planning notebook, your apron, the picture of your grandma off the wall. All of it thrown into a small box he managed to snag from somewhere off to the side.

“His name is Seungmin or something. Met him out in the tourist hub. Dude’s super rich with tons of miles and apparently owed Chan for a drunken night where he needed to be escorted to his hotel. So thanks to him, you’re leaving.” he explains as he grabs the box with both hands and starts walking towards the door.

“Wait.” you stop him, watching as he turns to regard you with a look that says his patience is running thin. 

“I told you I can’t leave, Hyunjin. This place is where I need to be.”

He huffs, places the box on the ground in front of him. His hair falls in waves around his face, a shimmery dark brown beneath the rays of the sun poking into the room. 

“Can you be honest with me?” he asks. 

You nod, slowly. 

“Do you love him?”

Hyunjin watches you with careful eyes. Reads you like a book, something he’s always been good at. You don’t doubt that it’s written on your face. Star-kissed cheeks and eyes as bright as marigolds. 

“So much that it hurts, Hyune.”

Hyunjin smiles, eyes watery. “Then you deserve to go. You deserve your chance to be free. Don’t worry about this place, I’ll take care of it.”

The familiar sting of tears sits behind your eyes. Your heart swells full of love for this friend, this light, this beacon of unconditional love in the shape of your best friend.

“I don’t have clothes.” you manage to say around the lump in your throat.

Hyunjin shakes his head, tears spilling down the bridge of his nose. 

“I’ll send them to you.”

“There’s a lot to do around here for just one person. What if you need me?”

“I’ll manage.” 

You round the corner quickly, throwing yourself into his chest. He catches you with ease, wraps his arms around your body as the both of you cry into each other.

“I’ll miss you.” you say weakly.

Hyunjin’s throat bobs against the top of your head. “I’ll always be here in our little corner of the world.”

The two of you stay like that for a while. Hyunjin’s warmth seeps into your skin, lights you ablaze. By the time he pulls away, his hands on your shoulders, you feel like you’re floating. Unreal.

“I don’t have a way to get there.” you say quickly, glancing at the clock. 

Jisung’s plane leaves soon. The airport, the only one on the island, is a thirty minute drive. You’re at a disadvantage the more time you spend not moving. 

“Don’t worry,” Hyunjin chuckles. “I’ve got that taken care of.”

You open your mouth to ask him what he means when you’re cut off by the sound of honking from outside. Confused, you run to the door, your jaw dropping as soon as you realize who’s waiting for you.

“Hurry up people we don’t have all day!” Jeongin calls, his upper body hanging out of the window. He’s parked outside in a beat-up truck, arms waving wildly when he spots you.

“Innie!” you scream, pushing through the door to run at him. He jumps out of the truck just in time for you to barrel into his chest, laughter loud in your ears as he spins you around. 

“You’re here! Oh my god I thought you weren’t coming for another two weeks.” you say in disbelief once he puts you down.

He looks older, more sophisticated. His hair is rusted and falls past his ears, the ends just barely touching his shoulders. 

“Yeah, well,” he shrugs. “I figured I’d show up earlier. You know, see you before you leave, catch up with my parents, help Hyunjin break into your house. The usual.”

“Help Hyunjin break into my what–” you say, but you stop when your eyes fall on the small suitcase in the backseat. Your own bag, the one that’s been sitting in your closet untouched for years now.

“For the last time,” Hyunjin says from behind you, carrying the box in his arms. “It’s not breaking and entering if I have a key. Which, by the way, I told you would come in handy one day.”

He sets the box down next to the luggage and dusts his hands on his pants. When he turns to face you, he’s smiling, eyes disappearing into crescent moons.

With tears threatening to spill once again, you stare at the both of them, your heart bursting at the seams. “I love you guys.”

Jeongin grimaces, opts for getting back in the driver’s seat as you laugh. Hyunjin rolls his eyes and ushers you inside of the truck.

“Yeah, yeah. Save it.” he says. “Right now, you have a plane to catch.”

The airport is crowded. 

There are tons of people everywhere, some saying hello and some saying goodbye. Hyunjin explained the gate system to you before you left him and Jeongin on the curb, and you keep glancing down at your ticket to make sure none of the information has changed in the past thirty seconds since you last looked. 

Thankfully, your gate isn’t far. With twenty minutes to go until boarding, you can feel the sweat building up beneath the hand that’s curled around your suitcase handle. 

It’s scary thinking about the fact that this is it. That you’re finally leaving. 

It’s bittersweet, too. There’s an excitement in the pit of your stomach as well as a feeling of dread in your chest, both of them meeting in the middle somewhere. 

You let your eyes scan the crowd, searching for wavy hair and thick-rimmed glasses. However, the first thing you see is the familiar neck of a guitar, strapped right on to a back that you would know and recognize anywhere without warning.

Jisung is seated near the gate, his eyebrows furrowed and lips set in a pout as he glares down at his phone. You realize that he’s probably wondering why you won’t answer, why all of his emoticons are going ignored. 

Quietly, you come up behind him, reach into your pocket, and say, “Excuse me? I think you dropped this.”

Jisung startles, his eyes falling on to the guitar pick being held out in your hand. Slowly, he lets his gaze follow upwards, wide-eyed and shocked.

“What– what are you doing here?” he asks. 

You place the pick in his hand. “I'm on my way to Seoul. There’s a guy there that I’ve been trying to find for a while.” you say. 

Jisung catches on quickly. “Oh, really?” he asks, moving over so you can sit beside him. “This guy must be pretty great if you’re leaving for the mainland.”

The rain starts hitting the tarmac outside right as you sit down. “Hm, yeah. He is. He really likes the stars. He says that he found a way for me to live in them, too.” 

He laughs, the sound making your stomach flip. “Sounds like you’re excited.”

You nod. “I am. He promised me that we’d do a lot together, experience new things. Apparently he’s gonna write songs and I’m gonna be a nerd.”

Jisung snorts and reaches across to link his hand with yours.

“He’s really lucky.” he says, leaning over to plant a kiss on your lips.

You smile into it. “So am I.” you whisper into his mouth, your heart stuffed to the brim with flower petals. 

And when Jisung smiles back, his other hand coming up to cup your cheek and give you another kiss with the force of a thousand suns, you feel the key you’d been searching for finally click into place. 

Salt of the earth. Soil and stardust. A boy who glows so bright that his girl sprouts blossoms from her fingertips. 

Forever isn’t promised. But then again, with Jisung by your side, there are things you know for certain:

It’s February. The tulips are in bloom. In Jeju– it rains.

And no matter what, despite all odds, you and Jisung will always find your way back to each other in the place where marigolds grow.

[tags: @skzstarnet @snowyquokka @palindrome969 @summergirlsmj @n1staytiny @drhsthl @strwbrrychannie @shays-library @giuliadesu @iknowyouknowminho @linocz @pynchkilledme @jisunglyricist @itsgghowitsgg @alician87 @skzms @meloncremesoda @ilychee08 @allaboutsan @legally-lixs @stayceebs97 @candyquokka @chans1aptop @liknws @realrintaro @beeracha @vxllxnsworld @feelikecinderella @caitxx1 @lilac13 @sebastianswhore13 @classiclitandmemes @hyunverse @linosazuna @lastgreatamericandynasty1 @bubbly-moon @cookiesandcreammy ]

[milksnake-tea]

━━ under the lotus leaves.

You've known Dan Feng long before he became the High Elder of the Vidyadhara, before he donned the title of Imbibitor Lunae and became the legend he is known as now. Long ago, back when the two of you were mere children, playing in the waters of the Xianzhou Luofu.

imbibitor lunae (dan feng) x gn!reader

contains: childhood friends au, set before dan feng is a criminal, slow burn, long fic, ooc!character for the first half bc he's growing up and is an annoying teen, mentions of blade's real name, death, spoilers for 1.2

genres: mostly fluff, hurt/comfort, some angst bittersweet ending

word count: 8.6k

a/n: please do note that this is dan feng, not dan heng. and therefore i take a lot more liberties with how he is because i firmly believe that dan feng was more of a bitch than dan heng BYE ALSO THIS IS UNEDITED !! ILL EDIT IT TMRW WHEN I WAKE UP I JUST HAD TO GET THIS OUT BYE

img credits

Your best friend was an extraordinary being.

There was no doubt about it. Regarded as both the strongest and wisest of your people, he was chosen as the High Elder, Imbibitor Lunae. And he has served you well.

His feats are plenty, with his joining the esteemed High-Cloud Quintet, and you couldn't count the amount of time he'd saved the Xianzhou on one hand. He was smart, intelligent, and witty, quick to understand situations and formulate the best solutions. His enemies feared his presence on the battlefield, and his friends trusted him with their lives.

As did you.

You, a mere civilian. A single face among thousands of Vidyadhara, another footstep among the crowd. You, who have lived through his past and present. You, who knew him better than he knew himself.

You, who has been by his side since the very beginning.

━

It was a stormy day when you first met Dan Feng.

You were just a child back then, a Vidyadhara only eight years of age. Normally, at this stage in your life, you'd be guided by the current high elder, but it seems that you had undergone your cycle at the same time as the past high elder.

So as life would have it, you would instead be raised by your seniors, while the Preceptors tended to the newly reborn high elder. A skilled weaver in your past incarnation, you were taken in by your then coworkers, and raised within your craft of making lotus silk.

As such, your childhood was filled with looms, lotus flowers, and spinning threads. You spent your free time in the gardens of lotus flowers, hiding from your caretakers amongst the tall stems and diving into the waters to swim amongst them. You may not have had the draconic features of the High Elder, but you still adored the water like any other Vidyadhara.

And as it would seem, so did the High Elder.

It had been a hot and sunny day at the Luofu. The rays were smoldering on your back as you waded through the lotus fields, thankful for the cold water splashing against your legs. You squinted against the sun, adjusting your leaf hat on your head. Tucked against your arm was a woven basket filled with lotus stems, all of which would have fiber extracted from them.

The tall leaves and flowers of the lotuses dwarfed your child self in comparison, although you weren’t complaining. Although the water sloshed around your thighs, requiring you to roll up your pants more than your older coworkers, the leaves served as temporary relief from the sun’s rays.

You pushed stems aside, the field looking more akin to a jungle to you. You only needed one more before you could return home to the comfort of an air conditioner in order to extract the fibers for the threads. Thankfully, that wouldn’t have to wait long.

Once you found a suitable stem to harvest, you snapped it from its roots and began to wash it in the water. Your basket floated next to you, you keeping an eye on it to make sure it wouldn’t float away.

But then, you heard the stems rustle, and the waters splashing as something entered your field. Immediately, you stood up straight, holding the lotus stem more like a weapon than a crop.

“Who’s there?” you called out, your voice ringing through the silent and tranquil fields.

No response.

You huffed, carefully setting down your stem in the basket. Whoever it was probably thought you weren’t a threat merely because of your age. You’d prove them wrong.

You heard the stems rustle one more time, snapping your head towards the source. Picking up your basket, you marched over to a large clump of lotuses, a perfect hiding spot (you would know, you’ve used it many times before). A shadow around your size moved within them, submerging itself into the water.

You rolled your eyes. Another kid, then. 

Pushing the stems aside, you saw the flicker of a draconic tail splashing the water, almost wagging as its owner lay face-first in the murky water. Without a second thought, you set aside your basket, grabbed the tail with your grubby little hands, and pulled hard.

“OW!”

The tail’s owner toppled out of the water, crashing into you in the process and knocking your foreheads together. You yelped, falling into the water with a splash as you held your aching forehead.

“What was that for?!” A child-like voice, much like your own berated you, a whine in his tone.

Glaring through your tears, you shouted back at him. “That was for bumming around on my farm!”

Your victim/intruder, a young boy with long hair, met your glare with equal fire. “I wasn’t ‘bumming around’, I was just… Cooling off! It’s hot today.”

You squinted, clearly not impressed. “I don’t care what you were doing! You’re not doing it on my farm.”

He lashed his tail angrily, splashing you in the process. “I’m the High Elder. I do what I want.”

You stared at him for a good second, taking in his appearance. He was a Vidyadhara around your age, only he had draconic-like horns protruding from his head. His long black hair flowed around him, and his fancy white robes were drenched in lotus water. It would’ve been obvious to anyone that he was a noble, someone of higher standing.

“No you’re not,” you said, deadpanning. “You’re too small.”

The self-proclaimed High Elder flushed red with embarrassment, jumping to his feet.

“I’m still growing!” he insisted, stamping his feet and splashing water everywhere.

“The High Elder’s supposed to be big and powerful!” you said, throwing your arms in the air to emphasize your point. “You’re… a kid!”

“You’re a kid too-!” The High Elder froze in the middle of his sentence, his tail stiffening at the sound voices - adult voices. Quickly, he grabbed you by the collar of your robe and pulled you into the shadows of the clump.

“Hey-!” He slapped his hand over your mouth to shut you up. In retaliation, you licked at his hand, the young boy recoiling in disgust.

“Did you just lick me?!” he hissed, looking at his hand in horror. 

“You’re the one who just grabbed me-”

“Shh!!” He put a finger to his mouth, shushing you. “Be quiet! Can’t you see I’m hiding?”

“From what, the Cloud Knights?” you gasped, backing up. “Are you a criminal?!”

He gave you a look. “No! I told you, I’m the High-”

“High Elder? Are you there?”

This time, you both slapped a hand over each other’s mouths. An unfamiliar adult voice shouted over the fields, calling for the boy beside you. You both waited with bated breath as the man searched on the other side of the field, only letting go when he was far enough away.

“You weren’t lying?” you whispered excitedly, looking up at the boy with newfound respect. He crossed his arms, looking all high and mighty now.

“Why would I be lying?” he said matter-of-factly. “You were the one who didn’t believe me.”

You really wanted to make a witty comment, but then you remembered your stems, floating out in the sun. Panic seized you. You couldn’t let those stems dry. If they did, they’d be useless to you.

You jumped to your feet, hurriedly running to your stems. Thankfully, they were still where you left them, and in the shade. You sighed in relief, knowing that you would live to see another day.

You peeked your head over the lotus heads, spotting the man who was calling for the High Elder. He was wearing some pretty fancy robes himself, the robes you recognized as belonging to a Preceptor.

Cradling your basket once again, you walked back to where the High Elder was hiding. He looked up at you in surprise as you reached towards what used to be a preening lotus flower, now a pod filled with green seeds. 

You snapped it off the stem and popped out one of the seeds. After peeling the green skin to reveal the white center, you handed it to the High Elder.

“Want one?”

The High Elder was wary at first, but eventually took the seed. He chewed it in his mouth for a little bit, his eyes brightening at the taste.

“It’s sweet,” he said in surprise. You nodded, taking one for yourself before giving him the pod.

“You have the rest on this one,” you said. You pointed in the direction of the Preceptor. “The big guy looking for you is over there, by the way.”

“Oh.” He took the pod in his hands, still a bit freaked out by how it looked. “Thank you.”

“Master always said I have to make it up when I do something bad,” you said, picking up your stems. With a start, the High Elder seemed to realize that you were apologizing. “Anyway, I have to go now. The fibers will dry up if I stay out here too long.”

“Wait!” The High Elder called out, reaching for you. You turned around, raising a brow. His tail waved nervously behind him as his hand faltered. “What’s your name?”

As you answered him, in the back of your head, you could’ve sworn you’d read this scene before. 

You tilted your head curiously. “What’s yours?”

His expression was strange. It was a smile of relief and happiness, just from you not knowing his name. The waters responded to his joy, swirling gently around him.

“Dan Feng,” he said, his tail wagging slightly. “My name is Dan Feng.”

━

You remember seeing him dragged out of the fields a few hours later. You had been extracting fibers from the stems you’d collected when you’d heard the commotion. 

Dan Feng was having his ear talked off by the Preceptor, but he was being awfully obedient. The two of you had met gazes, and he had sheepishly waved at you. Your hands were busy with your work, so all you could do was giggle at his predicament.

Of course, that wouldn’t be the last time you saw the High Elder - far from it. 

Dan Feng would visit your farm often, whether it was for eating more lotus seeds, dragging you to go swim with him, or just to watch you work. Your mentors and coworkers grew accustomed to seeing the young Vidyadhara waiting for you outside the workshop.

All of his visits would end in the same way - a Preceptor would come and take him away for his studies, droning on about his duty as the High Elder while Dan Feng rolled his eyes behind their back.

It wasn’t like he hated his duty. You knew better than anyone that Dan Feng took pride in his role, he was just… stubborn.

“What are you doing?”

You flinched at the boy in question’s voice. Dan Feng was practically talking in your ears, his face right next to yours. You leaned away, batting away at him.

“None of your business,” you said, turning your back towards him as to hide your hands. Dan Feng pouted but didn’t push.

“If you say so.” He turned his gaze back to the open fields. His legs kicked as he dangled on the stone wall alongside you.

You sat in comfortable silence, feeling as the spring breeze blew gently around you. It was tranquil and quiet, as the lotus fields always were.

Dan Feng found he preferred it that way. It was nice to get away from the droning words of the Preceptors, and this little farm served as his favorite sanctuary. He could spend his days here forever, just being by your side.

His eyes shifted towards you again. You were oddly concentrated today, he noted, working on whatever was in your hands right now. It was unlike you to be so quiet. Usually, you’d be talking about the latest gossip you’d heard from your mentors, or complaining about the weather again.

He strained his neck, trying to see just what was taking your attention away from him. But alas, you saw him and snatched it away from him again. Frustrated, he blew at his hair, lashing his tail in impatience.

Oh, well. If you weren’t going to show him, you weren’t going to show it. It wasn’t like he wanted to see it anyways.

Dan Feng went back to spacing out, closing his eyes, crossing his legs, and focusing on the world around him. If he wasn’t going to do anything, he might as well meditate.

He reached his senses into the fields, losing himself in the environment. His ears were filled with the rustle of each individual leaf, the soft splashing of water, the croak of the frogs, and the buzzing of insects that inhabited the fields.

He could feel how the wind felt on every plant, the warmth of the sun not just on his skin, but on the skin of the other aquatic animals. At that moment, Dan Feng became one with the world. Nothing could break his concentration.

Nothing, except perhaps for you, who was trying to grab his hand as stealthily as possible.

Dan Feng snapped his eyes open when you took his left hand in yours. Apparently, you were too engrossed in your task to notice his eyes on you.

You slid something onto his ring finger. Dan Feng tilted his head, raising his hand to stare at whatever it was you put on him.

A band of woven grasses encircled his finger, the braid intricate and tight. Dan Feng looked at it in confusion, rotating his hand to get a better view of it.

“Do you like it?” you said proudly.

“What is it?” he asked, bringing it to his face to observe.

“It’s a ring,” you said obviously. You showed him your dominant hand, which had a matching ring on it. “I saw a couple of girls the other day with those friendship bracelets. I figured since we’ve known each other for a few years now, we should have something like that too.”

“Oh.” Dan Feng blushed at your words, a giddy feeling bubbling within his chest. Suddenly, the ring on his finger felt heavier, but also much, much warmer.

“It’s nice, right?” you hummed, holding your hand to the sky. “I mean, it’s not like one of those beads you can just buy, but I think it’s pretty special.”

“I love it.” Dan Feng beamed softly, holding his hand close to his chest. “I’ll treasure it forever.”

It melted your heart to see him so ecstatic over something as simple as a grass ring. He was quite literally glowing from happiness, his draconic parts illuminating with a soft sea green.

“I’m glad,” you said, hugging your knees to your chest. 

Dan Feng looked at you, gratitude brimming in his eyes. He didn’t reach out to hug you (although he certainly wanted to), but rather, only wrapped his tail around your waist, tugging you closer to him.

━

You loved Dan Feng, you really did. But sometimes, you really wanted to tie him up and throw him in a ditch.

You sigh loudly in frustration, jabbing at Dan Feng’s wound with an alcohol-infused pad. The boy in question hissed in pain at your actions.

“Would it kill you to be gentler?” he attempted to jolt away, but your hold on his arm was firm.

It had been many years since you two had first met. The two of you were adolescents now, nearing adulthood.

Dan Feng had appeared at your doorstep after training once again to escape his mentors, only this time with a bloodied gash on his shoulder. He’d tried to hide it from you, but to little success.

“Why didn’t you tell anyone about this?” you shot back, angrily wrapping his wound with bandages. Dan Feng averted his gaze.

“It wasn’t anything they needed to know,” he said quietly. You paused in your wrapping to stare at him incredulously.

“Are you kidding me?!” You pulled on the bandages, tightening them. Dan Feng winced at your loud voice, waving his hand for you to quiet down. Granted, you did, but you still decided on berating him.

“Feng'er, this is serious,” you said through gritted teeth. “It’s not one of those scratches you can just lick away. What if it had gotten infected?”

Dan Feng sighed, opting to stay silent and instead watch you work. Despite your harsh tone, he knew that you were just worried about him. He didn’t blame you, the wound was pretty serious.

His eyes softened as he saw your hands trembling as they worked. Your face was a mask of angry calm, but he could see the shake in your eyes.

“...sorry.”

You blinked. “What was that?”

Dan Feng dropped his gaze guiltily. “I’m sorry. I made you worry.”

“When do you not make me worry?” you joke, tying the bandage into a bow. Dan Feng smiled sheepishly.

“I’m sorry,” he repeated, touching your hand with his tail. “How should I make it up to you this time?”

“Hm…” You pondered the question, tapping at your chin before brightening with an idea. “I got it. How about showing me that little trick you were bragging to me about earlier, with the cloudhymm?”

Dan Feng laughed airily. “You always ask for that.”

“Well, no one around here knows cloudhymm except for you,” you said, crossing your legs on the floor. Your eyes practically glowed in anticipation - Dan Feng wanted to compare you to a puppy awaiting a treat. 

The thought made his lips twitch as he held back his laugh. You rolled your eyes playfully, nudging him eagerly.

“So pushy,” he said dramatically, but you knew he was just teasing. He sat up straight, smoothed out his robes, and without further ado, he began his personal spectacle for you.

With just a flick of his finger, water materialized around him, taking the form of white lotus flowers in the air. Droplets stilled, as though someone had stopped time in the middle of a rainstorm.

You’ve seen this view many times before, but you were still amazed each and every time. A lotus flower hovered in front of you, bursting into a cloud of mist as you touched it.

You giggled, leaning back onto your hands, watching the lotuses drift off into the air. Unbeknownst to you, Dan Feng was preparing a whole nother surprise for you.

As your attention was captured by the lotuses, Dan Feng swirled his finger in the air. His signature teal water erupted in a spiral, taking the form of a roaring dragon. You jumped in surprise as it circled around you, flying toward the ceiling.

Dan Feng made the dragon dance around the lotuses, even bumping against your cheek. You squeaked as it did, light-heartedly glaring at Dan Feng. He only smirked back at you, before he enraptured your gaze with the dragon once again.

It glided towards the ceiling again, curling into a glowing orb of water. Dan Feng made a fist, and the dragon and the lotuses burst into a fine mist, making rainbows in the late evening light.

You were glimmering with awe, a permanent smile fixed onto your lips as you reached towards the ceiling to catch the mist. It was cool against your skin, like a little kiss from the rain.

“Am I forgiven now?” Dan Feng asked, amused.

You rolled your eyes. “Only if you promise to tell someone the next time you get injured.”

Dan Feng laughed. “Yes, yes, of course.”

You turned to look at him, only to find that he had been watching you this entire time, a fond smile on his lips.

━

“Are you sure about this?”

Dan Feng whispered anxiously as you skillfully maneuvered through dark alleyways and streetlights, your hand clasped tightly in his. 

He kept looking back behind him, just to make sure that you weren’t being followed. He’d changed his appearance somewhat, making sure to hide his horns and tail, but he was still paranoid.

“Obviously!” you chirped back. You didn’t bother looking back at him, currently fixated on your destination - a crowd of bright lights, the smell of food, and the chatter of people. In other words, the night market.

Dan Feng let himself be dragged off by you, trusting that you knew these streets better than he did. He looked urgently back at you.

“When we get caught-”

“If we get caught,” you corrected, stopping momentarily to pull Dan Feng towards you. You let go of his hand to hold his face, pulling him to meet yours. “You trust me, right?”

Dan Feng sighed. “Yes, but-”

You squished his cheeks, effectively shutting him up. “No ‘buts’. What happened to the kid who would sneak off to swim in my farm?”

Dan Feng gave you a look, but with his face all squished up like that, you couldn’t take him seriously. Fighting down a giggle, you squeezed him one last time before letting go.

“Trust me on this,” you insisted, the lights of the market illuminating your back. “You couldn’t have lived for this long and not have been to the night market. You’ll love it, I promise.”

“And if I don’t?” Dan Feng hummed. You snorted, interlacing your fingers with his once again.

“Then I’ll do whatever you want later, alright?”

“I’ll hold you to that.”

Dan Feng squinted as you pulled him into the depths of the market, the bright lights blinding him momentarily. The savory aroma of grilled meat and fried vegetables wafted into his nose, the chatter of friends, families, and lovers filling the air. The two of you were practically consumed by the crowd, the only thing keeping him from being swept away was your hand in his.

It was overwhelming, but not in a bad way. Dan Feng’s eyes widened with wonder as he took in the atmosphere around him. He wasn’t used to so many people being in one place, at the same time. In the lotus fields and in his palace, things were always quiet, still.

He could see children playing silly games with one another, jewelers selling their handcrafted trinkets, and so many street chefs, cooking right on the spot over open flames.

A tug on his hand broke him out of his stupor. You had been watching him all this time, a knowing smile on your face. You tugged him over to a stand that was selling what looked to be skewered balls of meat, dripping with a sweet glaze.

“They’re berrypheasant skewers,” you explained. You noticed Dan Feng’s disgruntled look and nudged him. “Don’t worry, it’s just the fruit that comes off their tails. They didn’t actually kill anything.”

“Oh… I see.” Dan Feng relaxed a bit after hearing that. You gave him a smile before talking to the vendor. Once you had acquired your skewers, you grabbed his hand once more, moving to a secluded corner of the market to enjoy them.

You wasted no time in biting off one of the fruit balls, closing your eyes in delight as you let it slowly melt in your mouth.

“That’s amazing,” you sighed in contentment, leaning back on a wall. You opened your eyes to see Dan Feng silently chewing on his. “How is it?”

“Sweet,” he said, swallowing it. “It’s not bad. Although, I prefer lotus seeds.”

“Really?” you asked, finishing off your skewer. “I like these better. Or maybe that’s because I’ve spent my whole life eating lotus seeds.”

“Perhaps,” Dan Feng agreed. He looked off in the direction of the market. “This place, it’s…”

“Loud?” you jested. Dan Feng chuckled.

“That too,” he admitted, “but the word I had in mind was ‘comfortable’.”

You hummed in agreement. “Well,” you said, pushing yourself off the wall. “We’ve only just scratched the surface. Are you ready?”

Dan Feng nodded. “Let’s go.”

Whatever happened next was a blur. What had started as you dragging Dan Feng around to try different food turned into Dan Feng pulling you to whichever jewelry store caught his attention. Sometimes, you’d lose him in the crowd, and run around panicked only to find him in the middle of getting scammed (to which you’d drag him off, giving death glares to whoever decided to prey on him).

You soon learned that this was a lot more tiring task than you’d originally anticipated. It was like babysitting a toddler - one minute he’d be standing at your side, watching you as you bargained with the vendor, and the next minute, he’d be across the street, trying on some new earrings.

And to make matters worse, every time you wanted to wring Dan Feng’s throat the second you caught up to him, he’d turn to you with that stupidly pretty smile of his, showing off whatever trinkets he managed to pick up this time.

And of course, like the weak soul you were, you couldn’t stay angry at a face like that for long.

But safe to say, you were relieved when you reached the end of the market and instead came to the edges of Central Starskiff Haven, right in front of the Jade Gate. 

Here, the crowds had parted, allowing you to take a breather from your exhausting task. Of course, you were the only one who was tired - Dan Feng was vibrating with excitement, the brightest grin you’ve ever seen on his face.

“I take it you had fun?” you said good-naturedly, coming up beside your friend to watch the flow of starskiffs in and out of the Luofu. Dan Feng nodded, crossing his arms behind him.

“Most definitely,” he said happily. “The outworlder merchants have so many interesting things, I can’t help but be intrigued by them.”

“I could tell,” you chuckled. “I could barely catch up to you with the way you were running around. Imagine what the Preceptors would say.”

“We did agree that they would never find out, no?” Dan Feng pointed out. You shrugged.

“Fair enough,” you acknowledged. You gazed out into the glowing light of the Jade Gate before suddenly jolting in realization. “Lan above, I almost forgot!”

Dan Feng looked at you questioningly as you riffled through your pockets. His confusion only increased as you pulled out a small box, barely the size of your palm.

You opened it to reveal two jade rings, each with the image of a  lotus carved into its band. Dan Feng feels his breath hitch at the sight, and something in his chest tightened.

“What…” he couldn’t even finish his sentence.

“It’s your birthday, isn’t it?” you said. “I figured that now would be a good time to replace the ones I made when we were kids.”

That’s right. You didn’t just choose today of all days randomly. Today was Dan Feng’s birthday, and the day he officially became of age. Today was the last day of his childhood before he would fully take on the title of Imbibitor Lunae and the responsibilities that came with being the High Elder.

You couldn’t help but feel proud as you watched him take the rings with shaking hands. He’s still that stubborn child who listens to no one but himself, but he’s become so much more. He’s grown taller, more mature, more dignified.

And yet, he still looked like he might cry from your gift. He mumbled something under his breath, something you couldn’t catch.

“What was that?” you asked, only to be pulled tightly into his chest. Dan Feng squeezed you into his embrace as he tried to steady his breathing.

Slowly, you wrapped your arms around his waist, melting into his hold. Such moments like these were rare, after all. The furthest Dan Feng had ever gone with you was holding hands. Hugs weren’t part of his vocabulary.

“You know…” he murmured. “In human cultures, rings symbolize marriage.”

“Well,” you laughed into his skin. “We’re not human, are we?”

“Yes, but…”

“Are you trying to propose to me, gege?” You looked up at him, raising your brow playfully. Dan Feng blushed at the nickname, averting his gaze.

“That wasn’t my intention,” he mumbled, flustered. He quickly let go of you, hiding his face behind his hand as he tried to calm his rapidly increasing heartbeat.

You snickered at him. “I know, I’m only teasing. Here, give me those; I’ll put them on for you.”

But despite your words, Dan Feng couldn’t help the burning heat that enveloped him as you took his hand delicately in yours, sliding on the ring. He couldn’t stop his heart from pounding, couldn’t stop his thoughts of newly engaged couples doing exactly what you were doing.

And most of all, he couldn’t stop thinking of how badly he wanted to kiss you in that moment.

━

Ever since that day, neither you nor Dan Feng have taken off your respective rings. Dan Feng always kept it hidden beneath his gloves, while you showed it off even while you worked. You’ve been asked many times who the other ring belonged to, but you’ve never given them an answer.

One of these questionees was Yingxing, a passionate young outworlder who had come to the Luofu hearing of the feats made by Vidyadhara craftsmen. You’d met through a common friend of Jingliu, one of Dan Feng’s friends in the renowned High Cloud Quintet.

While Yingxing was a blacksmith and you a weaver, the two of you hit it off immediately. The two of you bonded over creating for the members of the Quintet, with you being responsible for the threads that made up their clothes, and Yingxing their armor and weapons. Many times, when one of you had a day off, one could find you in the other’s workshop.

You coughed as smoke arose from the furnace, fanning yourself. Yingxing glanced over momentarily.

“Are you alright?” he asked, a bubbling laugh in his voice. You nodded.

“Yes, just not used to so much smoke,” you sighed. Yingxing wiped at his brow as he took out the pot from the furnace, pouring the molten metal into the mold beneath him.

“If it bothers you too much,” he advised, “you should step outside.”

You shook your head, jumping down from your spot by the window. “I’m fine, don’t worry. But enough about me, what’s this you’re making?”

“It’s a spear for the High Elder.” Yingxing moved aside as you came up next to him. “See the way the metal glows from a certain angle? That’s the remnants of the Reignbow Arbiter’s arrow.”

“Fascinating.” So this was the weapon Dan Feng would wield.

You waved away embers from your face, and for a moment, their light caught on the ring on your finger.

“You’re married?” said Yingxing in surprise. You stared at him inquisitively.

“No? What made you think that?”

“Your ring,” he said, nodding at your finger. You looked down before spurting a laugh.

“Oh, this?” You toyed with it, fidgeting it on your hand. “It’s nothing like that.”

“You don’t sound so sure,” Yingxing commented. You huff.

“I am,” you retorted, nudging him. Yingxing whined at the jab, complaining.

“Don’t you know not to provoke a man with a hammer?” he threatened good-naturedly. You, being the very mature person you are, stuck your tongue out at him.

“Yingxing?”

The sound of your best friend’s voice interrupted your play argument as the both of you perked your heads. Dan Feng bent down as he entered the forgery so as to not hit his horns on the door frame.

“Dan Feng!” Yingxing greeted, waving. “What brings you here?”

“Don’t let me disturb you,” the Vidyadhara said, his nose wrinkling at the smoke filling the forge. “I’m merely here to check on the progress of the spear.”

“It’s still in the process of being smelted, as you can see.” Yingxing pounded away at the spear, shaping it into his desired form.

“Ah, is that so?” Dan Feng nodded. “I’ll come back tomorrow, then. Keep up the good work.”

“You’re going to leave without saying hi?” you interjected, fake hurt lacing your voice. “I’m hurt, Feng’er.”

Dan Feng flinched, as though he hadn’t noticed you at all.

“[Name]?” He straightens, blinking rapidly in surprise. Yingxing swore he’d never seen the High Elder brighten so quickly - he almost didn't believe his eyes when he saw his tail wag with joy. “I apologize, I didn’t see you.”

“It’s alright,” you laugh, walking over to him. “I haven’t seen you in a while. How have you been?”

“You two know each other?” Yingxing asked. Dan Feng narrowed his eyes, fixing the younger man with a glare.

“I should be the one asking you that, Yingxing,” he said lowly, wrapping an arm around you and pulling you close. “When did you and them get so close?”

“We’ve been friends for a while,” you answered for Yingxing, lightly hitting Dan Feng’s chest. “Be nice to him.”

Dan Feng pouted, reluctantly letting you go. “But-”

“No ‘buts’,” you scolded, crossing your arms. “If you’re not going to be nice, you can step outside.”

Dan Feng looked akin to a kicked puppy, but he relented. Although, when he saw Yingxing, trying his absolute best not to laugh, Dan Feng felt murderous intent for the first time.

His tail lashed angrily behind him as he watched you converse with the blacksmith, Yingxing sweating from the pure pressure of Dan Feng’s stare. He’d never been so relieved to see you go.

“I have to go now, but I’ll come back later, alright?” you said, waving at Yingxing. You squeezed Dan Feng’s shoulder on your way to the door, leaning in to whisper in his ear. “Don’t give him a hard time, okay?”

Dan Feng only nodded, briefly touching his hand to yours before you finally left, leaving the two men alone.

“So,” Yingxing coughed, looking anywhere but Dan Feng’s eyes. “Feng’er, was it?”

“You will not speak of this,” Dan Feng warned. Yingxing raised his hands in surrender.

“My lips are sealed, High Elder.” Yingxing smiled. “Although, if I were you, I wouldn’t wait.”

Dan Feng narrowed his eyes. “What do you mean?”

“How should I say this…” Yingxing pondered. “If you stall for too long, someone will sweep them away.”

Horror shot through Dan Feng like a bullet as he gaped at Yingxing. The thought of you leaving him for someone else, replacing him, hadn’t even crossed his mind.

“I don’t know what you mean,” he gritted out, taking a deep breath to calm down. “They would never replace me.”

Yingxing blinked. “Don’t tell me you haven’t realized.” He shook his head in disbelief. “Dan Feng, you’re-”

“Dan Feng, Yingxing, there you are.”

Jingliu crossed her arms in the doorway, her apprentice, Jing Yuan by her side. 

“Was that [Name] I just saw run out?” she asked, raising a brow. She shook her head. “Nevermind that. I needed to talk to you two anyways. We’re heading out in a week’s time.”

“What for?” Dan Feng questioned, furrowing his brows.

“The Denizens of Abundance have invaded our ally Thalassa,” Jingliu disclosed, her voice tight at the mere mention of the Xianzhou’s sworn enemies. “We’ve been ordered to drive them out.”

“Very well,” said Dan Feng. “We’ll see you then, Jingliu.”

She nodded. “Until then.”

━

It was the first time Dan Feng had seen death.

War was never pretty for anyone, soldier or civilian. It was dirty, dark, and grimy. In war, you had two objects: one, defeat the enemy. Two, survive.

Dan Feng cursed as he ran his spear through another borison, the ocean of Thalassa responding to his anger. Dragons made from water, the same ones he showed to you all those years ago, drove back the enemy, blasting them away and incapacitating them in the process.

He kept his eyes ahead of him, deliberately avoiding the ground. There, laid corpses of allies and enemies alike.

Death was uncommon on the Xianzhou, especially for a Vidyadhara. There were no soulless eyes on the Luofu, no limp bodies littering the ground. There were no pleas for mercy, no screams of pain and fear.

But here, in the midst of a foreign battlefield, all of those horrors revealed themselves, and bared their teeth.

Dan Feng made the mistake of looking down. His eyes met with that of a deceased borison, its own lifeless eyes glazed over. Instantly, Dan Feng faltered.

The borison looked nothing but a Vidyadhara, but their eyes were the same. It might’ve been a different species, following a different Aeon, but the intelligence and sentience were the same. They were a person, just like anyone else. Just like you.

Only this one wouldn’t rebirth into a new life. No, this one was spoken for, done in by his spear. They would never live again.

The battle blurred around him as he spiraled deeper into his thoughts. He knew that realistically, it would never happen, but he couldn’t stop the thought from resurfacing in his mind.

What if one day, you ended up just like that borison?

Dan Feng shook his head, raising his spear just in time to block an attack from an enemy. No. It would never happen. He’d be there to protect you. The Cloud Knights would protect you. Xianzhou would protect you.

But what if they couldn’t?

“Dan Feng!” Jingliu’s shout snapped him out of his daze. Dan Feng clicked his tongue, irritated at his own absentmindedness. The battlefield was no place for distraction; he of all people should know this.

With a thrust of his hands, his dragons came to Jingliu’s aid, healing her wounds and fending off the borison attacking her.

He was being ridiculous, Dan Feng berated himself. The enemy was vastly overpowered. Their victory would come soon. And when it did, he would be able to come home, home to you.

And he did.

It was nighttime when he returned to the Luofu. You were just finishing up before bed, setting aside the fabrics you’d woven that day. Your former mentor had just checked in on you, making sure that you were doing alright before they went to sleep.

You heaved a heavy sigh to yourself, folding the final sheet before setting it on a shelf. Dan Feng and the others had been at war for months now.

“I wonder how they’re doing,” you muttered to yourself, closing your eyes. You knew they would be fine. Jingliu, Dan Feng, and every other member of the High Cloud Quintet were blessed with powers that you couldn’t even begin to imagine. The invading Denizens would be no match for them.

But still… You couldn’t help but worry.

What didn’t help was how obvious Dan Feng’s absence was. You often looked over your shoulder as you wove, as though expecting the young man to be standing there, watching. The night market didn’t feel the same without him being dragged around to every stall.

The lotus fields, with all their flowers and pads, seemed empty.

It was as though a hole had been ripped out of your heart, leaving only a dull ache.

The sound of your door opening startled you. You swiveled around, utterly confused. Just who would be here at this hour? Very few people had access to the key to your home. 

Perhaps one of the other weavers? Or perhaps your mentor again, worried that you weren’t getting enough sleep?

The answer was neither. A strangled whisper of your name, in such a familiar voice, cut through the night air like a knife. Tears welled in your eyes as you took in the sight of your best friend, finally home after so long.

“Feng’er?” you whispered. He nodded wordlessly, taking a few hesitant steps into your home.

You met him halfway, reaching up to hold his face delicately. Dan Feng closed his eyes for a moment, letting out a little sigh. His arm came to the small of your back, pulling you in as he buried his face into the crook of your neck, breathing in your scent.

“You’re late,” you murmured, brushing your hand through his hair. Dan Feng tightened his arms around you.

“I’m sorry.”

“You should be,” you laughed, sniffling. “Do you know how worried you made me?”

Dan Feng pulled away from your neck, gazing into your eyes. His tail swayed, eventually circling around your waist. He gingerly held your chin between his thumb and index finger as though you’d break if he was any rougher with you.

“I’m sorry,” he repeated, brows crinkling. Quickly, he wiped away your tears. Of all else, Dan Feng hated seeing you cry, and hated it even more if it was because of him. “I’m here now.”

You nodded tearfully. “And you’re not leaving, right?”

“Not for a while,” he promised. “Even the Abundance will need time to recover from the damage we did to them.”

“Good.” You held his face in your hands. “Because right now, you’re mine.”

“Is that so?” Dan Feng said softly. His eyes lingered on your lips, his lips slightly parted. “I’m yours, is that right?”

“Mhm.” You smiled as you felt him press your bodies impossibly closer together, one arm around your waist and the other behind your head. Your lips brushed against each other, your voice a whisper as you two danced on the edge. “Mine.”

A push from Dan Feng’s hand, and he sealed his lips with yours.

Immediately, you closed your eyes, savoring the taste of his kiss. His lips were soft, yet cool, like the touch of a river on a summer afternoon. He kissed you with a hidden desperation, years of pining and longing unleashing themselves in this torrent of affection. You almost couldn’t keep up with him, letting out a whimper as he tilted your face gently, deepening the kiss.

Even when you parted for air, it wasn’t long before Dan Feng greedily pulled you back in, addicted to the feeling of your lips on his. His hands wouldn’t stop wandering in a languid motion, slowly roaming all over you, from your waist to your back to your neck, and back to your waist again, squeezing every bit he could find.

By the time Dan Feng’s relentless assault ended, the two of you were breathless. Words failed to form on your tongue as you simply stared into Dan Feng’s eyes, trying to catch your breath.

Dan Feng pressed his forehead against yours, his horns bumping against you.

"You don't know how long I waited for that,” he whispered huskily. You let out a breathless chuckle, wrapping your arms around his neck and nuzzling his nose with yours.

“I think I did.”

The corners of Dan Feng’s eyes crinkled. You’ve never seen them so up close before. The colors reminded you of a stone in a river, with cool grey giving way to gorgeous teal.

And the way he looked at you made your heart melt - it’s so tender, so soft, so filled with love that you can practically feel how much he cares about you.

And you can only hope that he saw the same in your eyes.

“I love you,” he confessed, like it was a secret. But even still, him being able to say those three words made it worth more than anything in the world. “I’ve always loved you, ever since we were children.”

Joy bubbled up in your chest, and you couldn’t stop yourself from giggling. Your hand came to his scalp, bunching up his hair in your fingers.

“I love you too, you dork.” You pecked him on his nose, and then his forehead, laughing as he wrinkled his nose in response.

Reluctantly, you released him from your grasp, instead tugging his hand into your abode.

“It’s late already,” you explained. “The Preceptors won’t mind if you come home late, right?”

“They no longer control me,” Dan Feng affirmed. You grinned.

“That’s good.” You lead him into your bedroom, glancing over to make sure he was fine with it. “I don’t have a guest room, so are you alright with sharing a bed?”

Dan Feng flustered, but he nodded. “Th- That’s fine with me.”

You would learn that Dan Feng was incredibly clingy in bed. He practically enveloped you in his arms, tangling your legs together as he hugged your shoulders. His tail was conflicted - either thumping happily against the bed or wrapping around you like a possessive snake.

But it was worth all of it. You felt safe in Dan Feng’s embrace, loved. In his arms, you slept the most soundly you’ve ever slept. It was as though you had found your other half.

You truly felt blessed when you woke up to Dan Feng’s sleeping face, so serene and tranquil. And fortunately for the both of you, that wouldn’t be the last time you woke up next to the other.

━

But those happy days were not made to last.

There would be many more feats Dan Feng would accomplish as the High Elder. He would become one of the most prolific Vidyadhara ever, forever documenting his name in history books.

You two would eventually marry, sealing your love not just with those rings. It was a marriage in the palaces of Scalegorge Waterscape, only the best for the High Elder. All of your friends attended, Yingxing and Baiheng especially praising Dan Feng (and lamenting about how he of all people got married before they did). 

Jing Yuan had grown into a fine young man, his intellect and skill with the Lightning Lord being parallel to none. Yingxing was beginning to age, being a short-lived species. Jingliu had retired, aiming to end her days peacefully.

But as said before, that wasn’t what fate had planned for the quintet.

Jingliu would be driven mad with mara, her only solace being the blade of her former mentor. Baiheng would be missing in action. Yingxing would be killed long before his time, leaving Dan Feng in despair over losing three beloved friends so soon. 

Perhaps that is what drove him to do what he did.

“How could you?”

Dan Feng winced at the crack in your voice as you screamed at him. You were crying, angry tears streaming down your face.

“My love, please-”

“Do not call me that!” you snapped, making him flinch. “You don’t get to call me ‘my love’ after that. What were you thinking?!”

“It was the only way!” Dan Feng insisted.

“It was cruel,” you hissed. “You know that more than anyone here.”

“They stole them from me,” Dan Feng growled, his eyes flashing. “It wasn’t their time.”

“I know,” you whispered, your voice hoarse from crying and screaming. “I know it wasn’t. But you know what immortality will do to them, Feng’er. You know what the curse of Abundance does.”

Dan Feng averted his eyes guiltily. You wipe at your eyes hurriedly, taking big, gulping breaths to calm down.

“What did the Preceptors say?” you finally asked. Dan Feng’s gaze lowered, a shadow cast over his face. A pit dropped in your stomach.

“They’re waiting outside,” he revealed. “I’m to be taken to the Shackling Prison, and forced into rebirth. They only let me be here to say goodbye.”

It was as though an anvil had been dropped on you, crushing you.

“No.”

It was the only thing you could muster out. You shook your head in disbelief.

“No. No, no, no!” you croaked out. “They can’t do that. Not to you.”

Ironic, how only a few minutes prior you were berating Dan Feng as though your life depended on it. Now, you were pleading for him to be forgiven, for a lighter sentence to be dealt out. Because for a Vidyadhara, a forced rebirth was practically the same as a death sentence.

“Isn’t there another way?”

Dan Feng shook his head, taking your arms in his hands.

“I’m afraid not. This is the only way the public will forgive my sins.”

He took a deep breath.

“Please, my love,” he begged quietly. “Look at me.”

You did.

“You have to be strong,” said Dan Feng, cradling your face one last time. “Promise me that you’ll be alright, even after I am reborn.”

You shook your head. “Feng’er, please.”

“Promise me,” he urged.

“I…” You faltered. “I promise.”

Dan Feng smiled sadly - the last smile you’d ever see from your husband.

“Thank you.” He pressed a sweet kiss to your lips, a kiss to last you the lifetimes he wouldn’t be at your side. “I love you, [Name]. And I’m sorry for being such a selfish husband.”

You closed your eyes, savoring him for the last time. Silently, you told him your forgiveness.

“I love you too, Dan Feng.”

That was the day the love of your life died.

━

Centuries have passed since then.

You’re still weaving, now taking care of your rebirthed mentors as they had cared for you. There are children under your wing now, hoping to learn your craft and one day start a business of their own.

You still keep in touch with Jing Yuan, the general visiting your farm every so often. Each time, you offer him a taste of the lotus seeds Dan Feng loved, but each time, he refuses.

Yingxing has become the Stellaron Hunter Blade, cursed with immortality and the mara that comes with it. If he remembered you, he never showed it.

The Ambrosial Arbor, reawakened by the Denizens of Abundance, runs rampant, threatening the existence of the Luofu itself. You hear from friends that Jing Yuan had enlisted a group of outworlders - the Astral Express - to help him with the crisis.

And now, those very outworlders were standing outside your door.

“Par-” Jing Yuan coughed, cutting himself off. “Pardon the intrusion, [Name].”

He was currently being held by a young Vidyadhara, one that… Your breath hitched.

One that looked almost identical to Dan Feng.

Your lover’s lookalike noticed your gaze at him. The second you met eyes, he seemed to know exactly what was going through your mind.

“...I’m not him.” He repeated this sentence for the nth time today.

You smiled sadly.

“I know.”

You turned to Jing Yuan, taking in the general’s sorry state. The outworlders, a young girl with pink hair, an older brunette man, and a grey-haired teenager all seemed to be in similar shape, although definitely better than the general.

You stepped aside. “Why don’t you all come in? It’s been a while since I’ve had company.”

“Thank you.” The brunette, who you would later come to know as Welt, thanked.

As you turned away, Dan Feng’s reincarnation noticed a jade ring on your finger, recognizing it as the one he had woken up in.

“That’s…”

You hummed, raising your hand. You’ve never taken it off, not even when Dan Feng was reborn.

“You recognize it,” you mused. “I suppose that means he still has it?”

The reincarnation hesitated, but nodded. You smiled.

“That’s good. Say, what’s your name, little one?”

“Dan Heng,” he answered.

 “It’s a good name.” You stepped away for a moment to the kitchen. “I apologize; the tea may take a while. I wasn’t expecting guests.”

“It’s no matter,” Jing Yuan assured.

And as you served tea to the Astral Express, you couldn’t help but notice: five people, seated around a table, enjoying tea. Just like a scene hundreds of years ago.

You chuckle to yourself, a carved lotus glimmering in the light on your ring.

reblogs w comments are appreciated !!

[meyobe]

Pretty privilege…. No MC privilege pt.2

Satan

Mc can always expect him to take their side no matter what.

Mc was the first person to see past his angry and treat him like a person.

He is forever imbedded to them.

No matter how criminal the crime.

Mc was the one to start a fight? Well why was the other person fighting back?

Mc broke an expensive vase? If it’s so expensive why it is out, where anyone can reach it?

Mc started a fire in the kitchen? Devildom ingredients can be dangerous for human use-age.

He will most likely find a way to flip Mc problem on the person who accused them.

He his mind you do no wrong.

But not to be mistaken, he knows Mc is reckless but guidance is key! (He thinks)

Asmo

He will put Mc comfort over his.

He’s spent millennials admiring himself and put himself over other by default.

Mc showed him that his soul is more blinding then any gold or highlighter he puts on.

Mc has showed him a new way of viewing life.

Mc looks uncomfortable sitting on the floor during movie night? Just take his seat… matter a fact his kicking his brother off so you can have space.

Mc is tired of wearing their heels? He’ll switch shoes with you.

Mc is carrying a lot of bags that look heavy? He’ll carry them himself no matter how ugly he thinks it is.

He is letting go of his persona of being perfect because Mc taught him your flaws make you unique.

Buttt old habits die hard but Mc just has to look at him and he knows to settle down.

Beel

Mc can use him as a stress reliever( not that way ^_^)

He is the strongest brother( without and magic or demon forms) he works out and knows it can take stress away.

Mc showed him it’s not enough to be strong physically, but mentally.

Mc and beel are two side of the same coin.

He never wants Mc to hold what their really thinking or feeling back.

Mc’s had a really bad day? Are we going to the gym or on a run?

Mc is refaced with a bad memory? Does Mc need to yell he will listen? Or does Mc want to punch someone or something? He is right there.

Mc feels the need to let out some energy? Does Mc want to practice with him and his team?

He knows that sometimes people need to get violent to relive their stress.

Nothing that Mc May do can hurt him. So go crazy >_<

He thinks Mc is the strongest person he will ever meet.

He strive to be just like them.

Belphie

Mc can expect him to make an effort.

He’s had lots of time to dwell on his past mistakes and understand where he went wrong.

He will spend an eternity trying to make things right.

He wants Mc to know he’s trying his hardest for them.

He’s trying to living up to the honor them Mc gives him.

Mc has been feeling stressed? Flowers and a gift basket are at their door with a note that has the letter “B” on it.

Mc has to go to a meeting but also need to do my chores? He’ll make sure they’re done before Mc is back.

Mc and Belphie got Into a fight? He’s still texting them “ Goodnight, I love you “ because he knows how easily you can be taken away.

All his life his been deemed lazy or useless. It never bother him until Mc.

He is becoming the best version of hisself because he wants to be the demon whose worthy of a pact with Mc.

A/n/: should I write this for the dateables?!?!

I should also mention that I love writing so feel free to request!!

A new post about volleyball will be up soon!

Ty all!❤️

Pt.3 is up!!

[cjdsignsworld]

Baby’s Breath ~Crochet Flowers

[cherryrikis]

ONE LESS LONELY GIRL - 014 ! im one less lonely girl

PAIRING idols riki x fem reader

SYNOPSIS fans always point out the chemistry between you and riki, and it only continues to grow after you become mc’s together on music bank. but as your feelings rise, so does the tension. and people begin to notice, so you try not to let riki know how you feel. but unbeknownst to you, he feels entirely the same way.

authors note so thats a wrap! just like that, its over. this is technically the last official part bc ep15 is more like an epilogue/can be read as a standalone, but its still just as meaningful to the plot. i had so much fun writing this and i gained so much support and so many new moots. i love you all and thank you for staying here even though i struggled to update while juggling school and work. 💗

previous <> masterlist <> next

“i’m so sad to announce that today will be our last show together, as our contract has reached its end.” you read off the script, lightly patting your waterline with the pad of your pointer finger.

“but, i hope this won’t be the last time we see each other. i am very thankful for this opportunity.” riki spoke as he looked into the camera lens, before moving closer to link his arm with yours.

“this was newjeans’ y/n,” “and this was enhypen’s ni-ki! please look forward to our future projects. we may no longer mc together, but we will forever be a couple together. thank you everyone!”

the cameras stopped rolling, and the red light turned off which signaled the recording was over.

staff and crew rushed to the both of you, so you were immediately bombarded with baskets of fruit, chocolates, snd two flower bouquets.

“this is for a good few months of connecting together. thank you for your hard work and dedication.” the head of the staff greeted, as his assistants handed out your gifts.

“thank you sir. we look forward to seeing more of you in the future!” the two of you bowed, before leaving to head backstage.

“dani said she’s gonna come with everyone else to pick us up. they want to get dinner at that chicken spot to celebrate our contract ending.” you informed riki, turning to show the texts in the group chat as he finished changing out his stage outfit.

hyein! - ‘congrats, you’re free from the chains music bank had you bounded into!🥳🎉’

danii 💗 - ‘me and enjeans are gonna get u guys from work so we can get chicken. great job on mubank :)’

riki chuckled, before handing your phone back to you. “sunghoon and heeseung are gonna get so drunk. so, beware.” he emphasized.

“no worries. im stuck with you anyway.” you sighed, gently punching his shoulder.

“here’s to riki and y/n, for finally being free from kbs! i hope none of us ever have to mc again.” sunghoon toasted as he raised his glass, after jake poured everyone shots.

“for real. we barely saw you guys while you were signed to that contract.” minji nudged your shoulder.

hyein burst out laughing, almost spilling the drinks scattered around her place at the table. “if you guys weren’t dating, y/n would’ve been sobbing because she’d never see you again!”

“is.. is she, drunk?” sunoo raised a brow, gently pulling hyein’s hood over her head.

“sunoo! she’s underage! all i got her were 2 shirley temples.” danielle gasped.

“okay! enough. we’re in public.” riki announced. “baby? go ahead my love.” he gestured sweetly for you to make your speech.

“thanks ‘ki.” you smiled. “i’m pretty happy our managers decided to let us have a joint interview that day. if we didn’t, me and riki probably would’ve never met. so, i’m glad music bank happened. otherwise, i couldn’t call this kid here my boyfriend.” you spoke, moving to wrap your arms around riki in a soft hug.

“cheers!” everyone exclaimed in awe.

as your group members around you yelled out congratulatory speeches, all riki could think about was you.

because now that you could be in his arms in public with no repercussions, that was all that mattered.

you looked at him with a bright smile, and riki could feel his heart melt as your expression.

the world had one less lonely girl.

TAGLIST (italics = couldnt be tagged) @hannicorpse @luvvhaerin @chaevibes @en-verse @ren2jay @choppedballoondetective @heartheejake @imanalien143 @istglevi-gotmesimping @yndairy @eleanorheartschishiya @lonelylandofan @gweoriz @jaemified @onlyhyunjin @softpia @frecklesbrownies @riksaes @wensurr @rikifordmiami @brideslit @ant-onie @yumilovesloona @aeminju @hoonics @catecita @clampclover @rei4sunoo @addictedtohobi @rikidaze @baekxo07 @xotyla @melancholy-z @rikisgeef @jung1w0n @tocupid @onlyseung @i03jae @iheartshopping @istphanie @queenriki7 @academiq @1117promises @nctislifue @haechansbbg @rairaiblog @nabia-bia @pkjay @lixiebokie @hiekoo @r1kizerr @d-dilemma @kingofthekards @iilwji @hoonatic @woorcve @enhaz1

[redtsundere-writes]

Tyrant's Favorite | Sukuna Ryomen

Part 15: The Failed Plan

King!SukunaRyomen x Servant!FemReader

Summary: You used to be just another servant among the army of humans operating under the command of the terrible king, Sukuna Ryomen. An ordinary human who only knows how to wash, clean and cook. Until one day, he notices something in you that you hadn't seen before.

Tags: MDNI. +18. Murder. Blood. Cannibalism. Sukuna Ryomen Is The Warning Itself. Nudity. Sexual Display. Vaginal. Fingering.Sometimes fluff, sometimes angst. Beta-read.

Word Count: 8415 words.

A/N: Sorry for posting late. This was a long boi to edit plus it was my b-day lol

Also, thanks to Luna, my new beta reader, for the help!

Beginning. | ← Previous | Next →

“Yorozu, wake up.” Without having opened her eyes, she recognized her mother's soft voice in the morning. “Come with me to the market, Yorozu.” She shook her foot to wake only her up, who slept peacefully on the edge of the bed next to her twin sisters.

The golden light of the sun blended with the green plush grass and the white wild flowers of the large open field. The few trees around created abstract works with their delicate shadows. The little birds, hungry and romantic, sang in the distance, announcing the arrival of a new day. Yorozu rubbed her eyes to get used to the little light that entered through the windows, decorated with soft cobwebs that she had forgotten to remove the day before. She saw her mother confused at the foot of the bed, ready with her broken basket to go to the market.

“Nice try, mom.” Yorozu crawled back into the blankets her grandmother had embroidered for them years before she died. “The market isn’t open yet at this time. Goodnight.”

“Yorozu!” Her mother scolded her, losing her patience, waking Mimiko and Nanako up in the process. “We have to go,” her mother insisted before giving Yorozu a smack.

“What’s going on?” Nanako asked in a sleepy mumble to her, as her twin sat on the edge of the bed. 

“She said we’re going to the market,” Mimiko replied, confused as to why they were leaving so early.

“No, you girls don’t have to go. I just need Yorozu,” her mother replied, trying to pull Yorozu away from her sisters.

Yorozu looked at the small calendar her sisters had drawn on the wall and quickly realized what day it was. The day she had patiently waited for had finally arrived. Today was harvest day. She sat on the bed to decide her next move if she didn't want to be taken to Sukuna's castle. 

Unlike you, who always tries to see the good side of people, Yorozu has always seen the bad side of people. You can't trust anyone when they live under the tyranny of an evil being who lets curses run free, eating humans without rhyme or reason. You can't trust anyone when other humans are always going to prioritize their own lives over others. Humans can become horrible creatures under the influence of panic once resources run out, like her own mother.

"Are you going to sell me to the king…?" Yorozu asked her mother directly, who was stunned that she realized so quickly. "… like Y/n?" Yorozu inquired.

"I've already told you thousands of times that Y/n left on her own. She left a farewell letter and everything." Her mother pretended to cry as if she missed her daughter.

Yorozu knew she was evil inside. She never faked it or denied it. That was why she always found it so easy to tell her own kind apart. At the end of the day, she was her mother's daughter. No one was surprised that a narcissistic and selfish woman would end up raising her lookalike. Yorozu envied her older sister because she had dad's personality, a strong, protective, and kind man above all things. Secretly, you were always his favorite, the only one who put her big girl pants on at the time of his passing, someone who always cared about others before herself unlike every other human she knew. You were like the ones who would die to protect her family.

“Put the crocodile tears aside and accept what you did.” Yorozu faced her, standing in front of her with her arms crossed over her chest.

Her mother smiled at the great offense. She couldn't believe that her own daughter blamed her for something so horrible that she had done, but she didn't have to know that. Nanako pulled Mimiko by the nightgown to leave the room to get away from the argument, but the brunette twin still wanted to see how the fight developed. Despite being the same age, the blonde was the one who made the decisions for both of them.

“Yorozu, I would never do...!” Her mother tried, but a blow to the face interrupted her sentence. Yorozu shook off the punch as if it was nothing. Her mother looked at her in shock as her nose bled.

“Fine, don't accept it, but I'm not going to let you take me to that prison for your stupid desires. I'm not as stupid as Y/n,” Yorozu said, getting on guard, ready to give her mother the beating she so deserved. “Is this really happening?” Nanako and Mimiko thought in unison as if they shared the same brain.

“I didn’t want it to be like this, but it will have to be.” Her mother put her hair up with a rag, making sure her hair didn’t get in the way of her vision. “Since you were of no use to me to move forward, I shall take you out so you don’t get in my way. This wouldn’t be happening if you had accepted King Gojo’s hand.”  

Yorozu let out a war cry before launching herself at her mother. It was supposed to be a fistfight, but like any fight between women, they ended up grabbing each other’s hair. Yorozu was at a disadvantage because of her long hair. Even though she threw hollow punches, her mother controlled her like a puppet. Nanako and Mimiko watched from the doorway as they cried at the sight of the two members that were left in their family fighting so wildly. The only adults in their lives, the ones who were supposed to protect them, were fighting to the death. They wanted to intervene to stop them, but they knew they could never do anything about it.

Yorozu pushed her mother to the ground, in an attempt to get her hands off of her. She positioned herself over her and continued hitting her anywhere visible. They were clumsy and desperate blows to free herself from her and her uncertain fate. Her mother ended up receiving them as she did not have the speed or strength to resist. The cries of her twin sisters only infuriated her more. “This wouldn't be happening if Y/n was here” Yorozu thought furiously before continuing to hit her mother.

“No matter how many times you hit me, I'm going to sell you. Whether you like it or not!” Her mother threatened her while her mother cried from the pain of being beaten. This brought back terrible memories of her childhood.

The woman didn't know her family. She was banished from her homeland when she turned 6 for not having “what it took” to be part of the family, so she always had to survive. Find somewhere to eat, where to sleep, and repeat. Get on her feet by her own means to show that she had what it takes and much more to offer. She didn't have a cursed technique, but she had courage. Her nose could lose blood in a waterfall, her dress could lose its cleanliness by rolling in the dust and her dignity could be questioned with each blow, but she would never lose hope on herself. She had to do it, she couldn't die without first proving to the family that abandoned her that she could become someone without their help. She was going to get to be part of a family bigger than them, no matter what.

“So you accept it, you stupid old woman?!” Yorozu yelled full of fury.

“I sold Y/n to give you a chance, and you blew it! Damn brat!” Your mother screamed with blood stained teeth.

Yorozu continued to beat her out of anger, while her mother barely defended herself. All of her daughters knew that she had sacrificed her eldest daughter to try to take care of her family before worrying about herself and her future. Yorozu was sick of seeing you reject marriage offers from neighbors for fear of leaving your family after her father's death. She was fed up that she gave away her daughter, who had done nothing wrong, to the devil. The tears of helplessness at being in that situation were too much for her. Being her mother's favorite, she thought that it would at least give her a little more time to get a husband.

The brunette was starting to get tired, but she had to finish the job one way or another. She didn't have many options. She didn't want to run away from her own home so that her mother could then take advantage of the minors in the house. Her mind was pure chaos, and it was going to very dangerous places out of desperation to escape the situation. She wasn't going to give her life so that her mother could get away with it. The only one who could ruin her life was herself.

The situation took a 180-degree turn when her mother pulled her by the hair and pushed her to the ground, taking advantage of her daughter's exhaustion. Yorozu pushed her by the bloody face to get her away from her, staining her nightgown with the blood dripping from her nose, but her mother sought to knock her out with her bony fists. She would take any path to take Yorozu to the castle of the tyrant who was going to give her 100 gold coins for her daughter, with that money they could eat and everything would go smoothly from there.

"Let me go now!" Yorozu said between heavy breaths.

"Make me, girl!" Her mother told her with a sinister smile.

Her bony hands took hold of her neck tightly. A drastic but necessary measure. Yorozu tried to do the same, but her mother did not allow it. She felt like her head was emptying with each useless breath in search of oxygen. She only heard the desperate cries of her younger sisters for their mother to let her go. Her hands searched for a way to get her to let go, but all they could do was claw at her arms.

Her neck was turning purple from the lack of blood circulation, her head was spinning, and she could feel her soul leaving her body. She internally begged her sisters to do something more productive than just cry inconsolably. “I wish I had a knife to kill this old woman” she thought as she looked at her mother's face, blurred by the tears that clouded her vision. 

As if by magic, a kitchen knife appeared in her hand. She clenched it in confusion when she realized what it was, but she wasn't going to waste it. Her mother saw the object her own daughter had created to hurt her in shock. “Yorozu has a technique?!” She thought furiously before her own daughter stabbed her in the neck several times.

Blood began to gush out of her mother's airway, drenching Yorozu in the crimson liquid as she caught her breath. The limp body of the woman who gave her life collapsed on top of her. Her daughter kicked her off of her, without any remorse for what she had just done. Nanako and Mimiko hugged each other as they watched their dead mother's body collapse to the ground. Yorozu rested against the floor as she wiped the blood away with the back of her hand.

Seeing her lifeless mother beside her felt unreal. She looked as if she was just asleep. She had ended her life like a magic trick gone wrong. The young woman felt no remorse or worry, just felt an indescribable peace at no longer having to deal with that woman who used them as if they were the golden lottery ticket to escape from her shitty life.

"Thank you for nothing," Yorozu scolded her sisters. They came over to help her up.

“Is she really dead?” Mimiko asked between hiccups from crying from seeing her sister kill her mother in cold blood.

“Of course she is. It won't be a problem anymore.” Yorozu checked her dress, she was covered in blood. “I'm not washing that,” she thought, annoyed.

She had to change. She took off her dress without thinking twice. Nanako and Mimiko were already used to seeing her naked around the house. It was an annoying habit that had started when you disappeared from their lives, since you weren't there to scold her to put on more clothes. They really hated it because they felt she only did it to gather attention from the neighbors, but that wasn't their problem anymore. If an insect bit her in an uncomfortable area, they weren't going to scratch it.

“Now what are we going to do?” Mimiko asked worriedly, wiping away her tears as best she could. Now that her mother had died in front of her eyes, the only responsible adult was Yorozu. She didn't know which thing was worse.

"Isn't it obvious?" Nanako asked sarcastically. "We have to bury mom."

"There's no time for that," Yorozu answered before putting on the first dress she pulled from the closet.

"What do you mean there's no time for that?" Nanako asked, confused.

"Didn't you listen to what mom said? Y/n is in Sukuna's castle, we have to rescue her," Yorozu said as she tied the laces of the dress behind her back.

"Rescue her? And how are we going to do that?" Mimiko asked, making sure that her crazy sister was serious.

"I have no idea, but today is the perfect opportunity to do it," Yorozu answered as she put on her shoes.

Everyone who lived under King Sukuna's dictatorship knew about the day of the harvest. The elders lived worried that their children would give them up so they wouldn't have another mouth to feed, while the children were taken to the castle by their own parents, so the king could do the hard part for them. It was a day when everyone was tense, but not for them. This was the only day they could sneak in without anyone suspecting anything.

Mimiko crossed her arms and looked at her sister from head to toe. Besides being the only sister with blonde hair, inherited from her father, she is the smartest sister in the family. She loved her family, but she knew something was up with Yorozu for as long as she can remember. She is very immature for her age, she plays with boy’s hearts and treats everyone badly, but everyone tolerates her because she is "family."

"Aren't you supposed to not want to go there? There are many curses and the king is horrible," Nanako asked worriedly.

Nanako was very different from her twin sister. Even though she knew something was up with Yorozu as well, she still cared for her. With their mother dead in front of them, they were now alone. It's true that she wanted Y/n back, but the chances of her coming back or even being alive were very low. If she could make Yorozu change her mind, she would.

"Don't worry. I have this now." Yorozu created another knife to fall into the palm of her hand. The twins freaked out at the sight of its power. "I'll get Y/n out of there no matter what and everything will go back to the way it was before," she promised them before stomping her feet to make sure her boots were on properly.

They set off on the long journey once they had laid out the plan. They walked through the long grasslands, gravel paths, and stone roads as they watched the creepy black castle grow closer and closer. As the hours passed, they reached the central citadel. The markets were beginning to open, displaying the finest quality human meat and vegetables at their respective stalls, while the curses walked freely through the streets. They watched the humans with pity and envy of how the humans willingly went into the beast's teeth. If it weren't for the dry law that the king had imposed for the day of the harvest, they would have already been eaten.

The trio of sisters marched with their heads down so as not to draw more attention than they already did. Mimiko hugged her sister by the arm as they followed Yorozu towards her certain death. They heard the malicious giggles of the curses, mocking them. Under other circumstances, Yorozu would be terrified, but now that she had a technique, she felt unstoppable. They approached the drawbridge that led into the castle. Due to the occasion, there was a small wooden hut with several curses lined up, ready to receive the harvest. They all wore shiny armor and the flag with the symbol of the king they faithfully served.

“Who are you here to deliver?” The curse asked her as soon as the eldest approached the stand.

“Myself.” The curse was surprised that she wouldn’t deliver one of the girls who accompanied them.

“Wow… How heroic…” It said sarcastically before handing her the contract to sign. “Sign the contract and the money is yours,” it explained.

Yorozu took the contract to read the small paragraph she had to sign. The contract consists of three rules: The first stipulates that once the compensation is received, the crop belongs to the king. The second is that the crop will not receive visitors of any kind, or the visitors will be executed immediately. And the third is that if the crop dies, no one outside the castle will be notified. A cruel contract made to leave someone with the least feeling of guilt possible. Yorozu was about to sign, but Mimiko stopped her by the arm.

“Are you sure about this?” she asked. Yorozu broke free from her weak grip and signed.

The curse threw the sack of 100 gold coins at her feet for her to pick up. Yorozu smiled cynically before picking up the bag from the ground, showing that she didn’t care in the slightest about its opinion of her. She already had permission to enter the castle, all that was left was to find her older sister and escape together. It would be complicated, but she knew she could do it. She walked up to her little sisters’ height to give them the sack of coins.

“I’ll be back soon,” Yorozu whispered to them before two curses forcibly pulled her into the castle.

And that’s how the rest of her Hasaba family completely disintegrated. Nanako squeezed the small sack in frustration as she watched Yorozu abandon them so easily to pursue a small chance. That simple act made them realize that Yorozu didn’t care in the slightest what happened to them. “Y/n wouldn’t have done that,” she thought, annoyed.

“She's not coming back, is she?” Mimiko asked her sister as they watched the curses throw Yorozu into the courtyard.

“The girl who doesn't know how to be kind or clean?” Her twin answered sarcastically. “She’s dead,” she finally said before taking her hand to go back where they came from.

“Now what are we going to do?” Mimiko asked worriedly.

“We'll bury mom and get out of here,” the blonde decided strongly.

“What if Yorozu really comes back?” Her sister inquired without any resistance.

“That's not our problem anymore,” she answered seriously.

The sisters began their journey back to their home to bury their mother and plan their escape from the land of curses. It would be complicated for a pair of 11-year-old girls, but not impossible.

Today was the day. The day you would have to defend yourself from your sister. You couldn't sleep the night before because of the anxiety of having to face a sorceress with a thirst for revenge. You lay there, staring at the ceiling as you thought of strategies to somehow avoid the inevitable. You paced around the room with your heart in your hand from worry. You checked your archery equipment several times to make sure it was ready in the morning, despite wishing you didn't have to use it.

You couldn't do it. It was too much pressure for you. You couldn't kill your sister. What would your father think of you? He would look down on you in disappointment from heaven for turning you against the family he created with so much effort. Small tears of frustration from not finding a solution to the matter ran down your cheeks as you prepared to eat breakfast. You looked at yourself in front of the mirror as you ironed the red dress with your hands, the lightest of them all. Your eyes looked swollen from spending the night crying and the obvious lack of sleep. You put on some makeup to cover the gray patches and pretend everything was okay. “Don’t worry. Whatever happens will happen,” you thought before heading to the dining room with the little desire you had to eat.

“Good morning, my king.” you greeted Sukuna upon arriving at the table, trying to sound as friendly as possible.

“The king told me to let you know, that’s why I came as quickly as possible.” You quoted Mrs. Inoue in your mind when she interrupted your study session to warn you about what your sister was up to the day before. You looked at your friend who was on the other side of the room and gave her a smile to let her know that you were okay so she wouldn’t worry, even if you felt like you were dying inside.

“Today, I feel like it’s going to be an exciting day, don’t you?” Sukuna asked you with a deranged smirk on his face.

You knew what he was doing, you had realized during the endless night. You clenched your fist under the table. He had promised your sister the same thing he promised you to turn her against you. He knew your time was running out, so he had to intervene somehow to speed up the process. You watched as he smiled at you, proud of his own actions. You were afraid to say anything that might anger him, so you stayed quiet. Your sister was quick to arrive, skipping happily to cut the weird tension between you two.

“Good morning everyone!” She greeted with a smile before sitting next to you.

“How are you feeling?” You asked worried about her well-being. You couldn’t abandon your role as older sister even though she had promised the king that she would kill you.

“Good as new! You were right, I needed a good rest,” Yorozu said. You smiled at her, relieved that she was feeling better after the fight. “Hey, I wanted to apologize for yesterday…”

“Really?” You asked surprised.

“Yes, what I did wasn’t right. I got frustrated, actually.” Yorozu pouted as she hugged you in an attempt to get your forgiveness.

You saw how Mrs. Inoue looked at her with displeasure. You could also see through her falseness, but you wanted to enjoy your sister for one more minute. Forget for a minute that you lived in a castle full of curses. Forget for a minute that you had to study and train until you were exhausted. Forget for a minute that she would kill you at any second. Just two sisters living in the countryside, running through the grassland towards the sunset for one last time.

“Let me reward you for being so patient with me,” Yorozu proposed as she rubbed her cheek against yours affectionately. Her touch was warm, unlike her intentions. “Let’s train together. I’ll do anything,” she promised.

“Okay,” you smiled at her.

Uraume and a few cooks made an appearance in the dining room as they held today’s breakfast. The servant placed a plate of red berry oats with several slices of strawberries surrounding the perimeter of the bowl, elaborately decorated with some blueberries and blackberries. In the center, like the star of the show, was a large strawberry lightly dipped in the whitish purée.

“I asked Uraume to add extra strawberries,” the servant commented, a 50-year-old man with unruly gray hair and a friendly smile. You noticed that he was the same one who had served you your birthday cake. He must be new, since you didn’t know his name.

“Thank you, that’s very kind of you,” you thanked him, reciprocating the smile.

While you were distracted, Yorozu tried to steal the biggest strawberry from the plate with a mischievous smile. To your surprise, your hand caught her wrist before she could take it. You squeezed it tightly to make her pull her hand away in pain.

“Ow, ow, ow!” She squealed as pulling it away from the fire. “It hurts!”

“I’m sorry, but this is mine,” you declared before taking the strawberry to eat it in a big bite. Yorozu looked at you offended, she was so upset that a vein on her forehead was about to pop.

Mrs. Inoue laughed out loud. Her small eyes hid behind her chubby cheeks from happiness. She wiped away the small tears of laughter as she continued to laugh non-stop. You didn't want to take away the little joy she had in hell, so you let them have their fun, even though it was at your sister's expense. You put on your leather glove, making sure it was on properly as the lady held the bow and quiver. They waited patiently in the courtyard for the servants to bring the straw targets to start practicing. Originally, you were going to do it, but the servants offered to do it for you.

"It was so satisfying to see her annoyed face! I'm sure the others are laughing at her too." She laughed before passing you the quiver to put it across your body. You sighed as you adjusted it so it wouldn't obstruct your arms. Mrs. Inoue stopped laughing when she saw your downcast face. "What's wrong?"

"My little sister said she would kill me in front of the king today."

"Ah, that's right, I forgot about that." Mrs. Inoue facepalmed in disappointment. “Sorry, I must be getting old.”

You rubbed her back as you told her everything was fine. The servants left the weapons warehouse as they rolled the straw targets, leaving a thin trail of straw across the grass. The gardeners, who were in charge of trimming the bushes around the perimeter, put aside their work to help load the target bases. Together they placed the target on the wooden bases.

“Thank you!” You exclaimed from your spot, to which the servants only indicated to you from afar that everything was ready.

You were about to start shooting until you felt the king’s presence around you. You looked up at the bridges over the walls that connected to the watchtowers. The king, Uraume, and Kenjaku were all watching you intently, as if they were waiting for you to do something. You were used to having your training supervised, but this time it was different. Sukuna smiled expectantly at what was about to happen. Finally, after two months of waiting and holding back the urge to kill his sister-in-law, he would see your true potential in all its glory. You gulped as you felt their intense eyes on you. They were waiting patiently for you to surprise them, but you doubted you could do it. You felt like a joker in front of an audience that was about to bore him.

“King!” That shrill voice ran out of the castle to go with him. “Sorry for the delay,” she said, stopping in front of him.

“You seem very excited to kill your sister,” Sukuna told her, intrigued by the unexpected good mood.

“It's a great shame, really, but it's her karma for abandoning us,” Yorozu commented as she waved at you from afar, waving her hand from side to side like a flag. Sukuna had no idea what that meant.

“Yorozu!” You exclaimed on harvest day before launching yourself towards her to hug her tightly. Yorozu was so perplexed that it took her a while to reciprocate the hug.

She still remembered that bittersweet hug you gave her that day of their reunion. You were fine, better than fine. Yorozu thought she would find you in an ugly maid outfit, weak and with blood on your knuckles from hard work. Instead, you wore a beautiful dress, had gained a little weight from eating three times a day, smelled exquisite, and wore a delicate diamond tiara. Your sisters were so worried about you and here you were, living the best life in the castle while your sisters were starving in the countryside.

You were living the life your mother always dreamed for you without you having put in the least bit of effort. Yorozu was more than shocked at the reality of the matter. She wanted to live like that. Having a life where she only had to look pretty and quiet to have the world under her feet alongside a powerful king who does whatever he pleases.

“You're alive!” Yorozu exclaimed once, understanding the situation. Your strong morals had been corrupted by greed.

You couldn't hear her conversation with the king, but it couldn't be anything good. Yorozu smiled at you before creating a bow with its respective quiver with her cursed technique. You gripped the bow tightly out of stress. The battle was about to break out, and you only had one mission in mind: Incapacitate your sister. It was the best option so far. You could keep her alive without her being a constant threat against you.

“Hey, sister! Dodge this!” Yorozu exclaimed playfully, still pretending her role as a clumsy sister, as she pointed her bow and arrow at you.

“Is she going to be that direct?” You wondered about her bad plan, but you should have figured it out. You were dealing with Yorozu after all, she never had a plan. That's why she was such a troublemaker among the neighbors, always doing what she wanted without thinking clearly about the consequences. Ending up in a fist fight over her lousy ideas.

You stopped to wait for to shoot so you could get out of the way in time, but you noticed that she turned on her waist to the left. It reminded you of how Sukuna abruptly moved to kill a servant on their first day of practice together. Without a second thought, you pulled an arrow out of your quiver to aim it at Yorozu's arrow. Your eyes followed the target as you simultaneously released the string. The purple-feathered arrow streaked through the skies towards the head of one of the gardeners. Just a few inches from the fateful outcome, her arrow hit yours, completely deflecting it from its unfortunate target.

Your heart beat with joy at the fact that you had saved the poor man's life, but you were also furious that your sister wanted to hurt an innocent person. She was supposed to kill you, she didn't need to have done that. She had surely done it to get Sukuna's attention with her incredible abilities, but this was as far as she was going. It was time to fight back. Quickly, you took out another arrow to load the bow.

“Everyone! Get out of here! That's an order!” You bossed the servants in a commanding voice, just as you had heard Sukuna order his troops when practicing his strategies.

If Yorozu had tried to hurt one of the servants once, she wouldn't hesitate to try twice. Without hesitation, all the servants fled in terror to take shelter inside the weapons warehouse. The gardeners let the maids enter first, the only one missing was Mrs. Inoue, who faithfully stayed beside you. “She took care of the servants first so they wouldn’t get in her way. Good idea.” Sukuna was satisfied with your reaction.

“Good luck, miss,” Mrs. Inoue said before following the group while you loaded the bow.

“Go, now!” You ordered again.

“I must impress the king!” Yorozu proposed desperately before pulling the string again to hit Mrs. Inoue before she reached the warehouse. You took a deep breath as you looked at the shoulder Yorozu was holding the bow with. The time had come. Your fingers let go of the string while your shoulder was thrown back by inertia. Yorozu looked at the arrow in shock that was approaching her at high speed, she no longer had time to kill any servants. She put down her bow and raised a wall of the same concrete as the bridge to defend herself. Yorozu smiled, proud of her great defense, but it was soon erased when the arrow pierced the concrete and ended up piercing her shoulder completely.

“How the fuck did she do that?!” Yorozu thought, screaming in pain against the ground. The king, Uraume and Kenjaku looked at her surprised that a simple arrow could pierce the concrete.

“It's a good special grade bow.” Kenjaku whistled in amazement.

“It's not a cursed bow,” Uraume answered, somewhat scared as they watched the king's apprentice suffer on the ground.

Sukuna had a big smile from cheek to cheek. His little pawn was turning into a queen. He had never been so proud in his entire life. Her own sister would be the first victim of his future wife. He turned his face to look at you with all the pride in the world, but his smile was also erased when a white-feathered arrow brushed his cheek. Uraume and Kenjaku gasped in shock at the tremendous threat. A small trickle of blood rolled down the king's cheek until it stopped on his chin.

Sukuna analyzed you from head to toe. Your back was straight, your hands gripped the bow tightly, and your gaze was defiant. You were furious, not only with your sister, but also with him for involving her in their deal. You were directly challenging him to kill you because you didn't plan on killing your sister that easily. You could do many things for him, but attack your own flesh and blood, never. If he wanted you to get rid of her so badly, he should let you live after that threat.

Sukuna understood your anger. So much time of senseless orders, humiliation, and anxiety had brought you to the edge of madness, at some point you were going to explode. Sukuna licked his thumb to clean the blood in one go, healing the wound completely. He was going to let it go, but just this once.

"Yorozu," Sukuna called out to your sister as she screamed, she immediately shut up to listen to him. "Are you going to let your sister get away with this after this?" He asked her as he pointed to his hurt cheek.

"Of course not," Yorozu shrieked before stepping down the concrete wall to jump down onto the parade ground. You lowered your weapon as you watched your sister march upright towards you, even though the pain in her shoulder was consuming her. “Poor king, you hurt him because of your bad aim,” Yorozu said before pulling out the arrow, along with a muffled groan of pain as she moved her shoulder.

“It was on purpose,” you admitted angrily. “If I wanted to, I would have shot both your and the king’s heads through.” You raised your bow along with an arrow, aiming for her head.

“Trust me, you don’t want to do that,” Yorozu said, raising her hands.

“Why not?” you asked her.

“Who’s going to take care of Nanako and Mimiko?” Yorozu asked you with a “checkmate” smile. Your eyes widened at the sudden question.

“Where’s mom?” You asked her with a shaky voice as you lost your grip on the bow in helplessness.

“I killed her,” she replied with a smile. You lowered the bow in shock. “I killed her for what she did to you, for what she did to us,” she corrected herself as she approached you before moving her hand back to create a blade behind her back.

You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. You hated your mother for what she had done to you, but never enough to kill her and leave your sisters motherless. You looked at Yorozu in shock as you realized what she was really capable of doing. You thought she didn’t hate you, that she just wanted what you had like any spoiled child, but you realized that she was more wicked than she looked. She was a bitch.

“Thank you,” you whispered to her, causing Yorozu to stop at the strange reaction.

“You’re welcome,” Yorozu replied with a smile.

“No, seriously…” You said before raising the bow again, aiming straight at her head. “Thanks for making this easier for me, bitch,” you replied as you let go of the string while staring at her head.

Yorozu gasped as she partially dodged the arrow as it tore her cheek. She lunged at you with the knife, but you stopped her by putting the bow between the two of you. She was too close to use an arrow. You pushed her away from you before grabbing another arrow from the quiver, but Yorozu was still so close that you couldn’t do anything but try to hit her with the bow. The brunette dodged it before taking the bow by force. They struggled with the weapon in a contemporary dance until Yorozu snatched it from your hands to use against you. She maneuvered it like a spear to knock you to the ground and hit you in the head. You turned to dodge it, but it only hit you in the back, knocking you completely to the ground. You stifled a scream as you felt the sting of the blow.

“You're not as strong anymore, are you?” She asked before wrapping her body in her green beetle armor.

It had improved quite a bit since you broke it with your fist, as not even Uraume's stalactites could pierce it in their brief confrontation the night before. With that on, she already had your death assured. She was about to prove to Sukuna that she wasn't a weakling after all. She was going to fight for that comfortable life you had and the love of the king.

Spending so much time with him, she felt his unconditional love growing more and more. The way he spoke only to her with that challenging tone, looked at her from head to toe, grabbed her tightly and got closer to her body every time they practiced a fight. He was a real man compared to the idiots she has met throughout her life. While he worked on his documents, she wrote him little love poems in her room that she would recite to him at their wedding. Every night, she rolled around in her bed as she imagined the king on top of her, fantasizing about him making her his until the sun came up in the morning. She woke up so wet that she only wished the next night would come soon.

Yorozu kicked you as she laughed out loud at the tremendous happiness that invaded her body, taking advantage of your weakness for having lost your weapon. You could feel Sukuna’s cold look of disappointment, while your only defensive move was to curl up into a ball like an armadillo. You had no chance of winning anymore, this was your end point. You were going to die here. You had a few good last months of life before your sister was about to take them from you. You cried quietly so as not to give your mortal opponent the benefit of hearing your last cry.

“I’m sorry. I have failed you, father, mother, Nanako, Mimiko, Mrs. Inoue, king…” you thought heartbroken as Yorozu exchanged the knife for a sword. “Once you learn, the song will sound more beautiful than you can imagine,” you thought of that day when Sukuna played the piano with you, when he slept with you, when you played chess. You wanted to have more moments like that with him, but that wouldn’t be possible. “I never learned,” you resigned yourself as you opened your eyes slightly while feeling the wrath of Yorozu’s heavy foot. You saw numerous servants in front of the window, watching the beating they were giving you, but you focused on Mrs. Inoue, who was crying while shouting words at you that you couldn’t understand.

“Thank you, Mrs. Inoue, for teaching me many things,” you thought of the year you spent together. In the good and bad times, in health and in illness, in the long days and the endless nights. You had also disappointed her, I wish you could thank her from the bottom of your heart for being her friend despite being so many years apart. “Don’t be silly, girl. You have everything it takes to be a true queen!” You remembered immediately, as if she had slapped you across the face to make you come to your senses.

Yorozu wielded the sword to cut off your head in a single movement, but you stopped it by grabbing it by the edge, cutting your hands deeply. Even though you had a leather glove on your dominant hand, the sword sliced ​​through your skin all the way to the bone. You bit your tongue to keep from screaming in pain as the sword bathed in your blood. Yorozu struggled with you so that the sword reached your neck, but you focused on her wrists. You kicked her wrists despite the muscle pain so that Yorozu would let go. As soon as Yorozu stepped back, you got up as fast as you could and grabbed the sword with all your willpower to hold it despite having injured hands. You wiped the tears from your eyes, but ended up staining your face with blood as you heard the cheers of the servants. That gave you the push you needed.

“Are you really that desperate to be the queen?” Yorozu scoffed.

“You still don’t get it, do you?” You asked her. “None of what I warned you about entered your hollow head? This is how things are in this castle. If I could go back to my quiet country life, I would in a heartbeat,” you announced to her in a voice rough with pain.

“You’re not serious, do you really want to go back to that dump?” Yorozu asked in disbelief.

“It’ll stop being a dump once I take you out,” you answered with a dry smile. Yorozu growled in response before creating another sword for herself.

The air was tense, charged with skin-tingling anticipation, as if the world itself held its breath. Long, sharp swords flashed in the dark afternoon sun, reflecting the steel that was being readied for the final battle. Both of them charged into combat. The first movement was sudden, an explosion of speed and clumsy clashes. The metallic sound of the swords clashing echoed in the air, like a powerful thunder before the storm. The sisters moved gracefully despite their clumsy feet, their bodies flowing from one attack to the next in a deadly ballet.

Your hands bled more and more each time you gripped the sword tightly. Your weak body could barely defend itself from the immense power your sister had, despite having a hole in her shoulder. You stared at her neck as you moved the sword clumsily. For some reason, you couldn't stop looking at that specific spot. It was as if your body was begging you to do it. You wanted to look away to focus on the fight, but your dense concentration didn't allow it. Yorozu, seeing in your gaze that you were lost in your mind, swung the sword backwards with a cry of pain to cut off your head in the middle of a movement. As soon as she raised her arms, you came back to yourself as if you had suddenly woken up. "Now!" you thought before swinging it at your sister's neck.

The spectators gasped as they saw how in a single movement you cut off your sister's head and both arms. A cold chill ran down Uraume's back as they witnessed it. They quickly reviewed the fight they had had with Yorozu the day before, they were one hundred percent sure that the swords Yorozu could create weren't that strong. If they couldn't cut through a piece of dry ice, they couldn't cut a human being so easily. "She... She has something..." they thought worriedly.

Your sister's incomplete body collapsed against the grass next to a waterfall of blood that bathed you completely. You lowered the sword as you breathed heavily. You were starting to feel dizzy, as if you had been hit by heat stroke. You dropped the weapon as you looked at your masterpiece. Your own little sister torn apart by your own hands. You carefully removed your leather glove to see how your hands had ended up, as if you had no idea what you had done. The cutting sheets fell open, allowing you to see that you were only made of flesh and blood like everyone else. You backed away from the body, staggering from the dizziness. You turned around to fall to your knees against the grass to throw up the strawberries you had eaten for breakfast. Looks like those strawberries wouldn't be yours either.

You looked terrible, worse than in the morning. Your face was covered in blood, your hands were wrecked, your dress was covered in your blood, your sister's blood, and vomit from having your sister's blood on you. At least, the colors of those three viscous liquids matched the red dress. You had cried so much that you felt like your eyes had dried up, so you decided to scream until you felt your vocal cords burning. Your sister didn't deserve a minute of silence like your father, she deserved to hear all the pain she had caused you with her incompetence. Your screams broke the wind that filled your lungs, scaring the crows from the trees.

“Fuck you, Yorozu!” You screamed from the depths of your soul. “I just wanted to take care of you, you jealous bitch! Nothing was good enough for you! Not our life, not the neighbor, not King Gojo! You had it all and yet, you decided to go for the worst option! Stupid whore!”

Sukuna watched you suffer, but something wasn't right. Seeing people suffer has been the biggest reason for his happiness in the millennium he's been alive. He thought that seeing you suffer would be the most rewarding thing in his life, but it wasn't. That great heaviness returned to his chest, as if he was about to jump off a cliff. It physically hurt him to see you in such a vulnerable and heartbroken posture. He gulped to try to deal with his pain, but that wasn't enough. Even though he loved watching you, this time he had to refrain.

You broke the helmet of the armor with the sword to reveal your sister's face. Her black eyes looked at you without any trace of life behind them. Your trembling fingers closed them, feeling the softness of her eyes to your touch. You brought her closer to your body to hug her while you brushed her long hair between your fingers.

“I'm sorry... I really didn't want it to end like this, seriously,” you whispered to her. “Say hello to dad or mom for me and our little sisters…,” you said before realizing what was most important now. You growled, getting upset with your sister again. “Damn, I can't say anything nice to you because now I have to clean up your messes,” you told her before taking off your dirty dress to stay in a corset and white bottom to present yourself before the king as clean as possible.

“Are you okay, my king?” Kenjaku asked him, worried.

“Yes…” He answered quietly. At the strange tone of voice, he cleared his throat. “Yes, better than ever. Plan B worked perfectly,” he answered with his usual strong tone.

Sukuna's plan originally came about as soon as he accepted Yorozu into the castle. He had only accepted her as his servant, and then apprentice, to eventually use her as a hostage to push you to kill some of the servants to save her life. The plan fell apart when everyone started to get fed up with her, except you. That's when plan B came in, that you would kill your sister for the sake of others. You were no longer a pawn, but you weren't a queen either. You were a tower faithful to your sense of justice that couldn't be easily knocked down.

"Actually, plan A would have been more fun to enjoy. This plan ended up being a bit sad, don't you think?" Kenjaku asked him, examining his face, which was downcast from the spectacle.

"My king, the lady is approaching," Uraume warned him as he watched you approach the group on the bridge.

Sukuna turned around to face you, but his heart began to beat like crazy when he saw you up close. Your hair unruly against the wind, your eyes red from anger, blood caking your face, your white clothes bloodied, your hands holding the head of a terrible opponent. Your hips moved subtly as you marched fiercely towards him. His cheeks reddened at the thought of the idea that his future heirs would emerge from there. He wanted to fall to his knees in front of you as he looked like a terrible tyrant who would do whatever it took to expand his kingdom. You looked exactly like he wanted you to look at his side. God, he couldn't wait to propose to you.

He reached into his pants pocket to take a small box he was carrying for the moment when you offered him the head of your victim. He was about to kneel immediately, but you did it first. You placed your sister's head in front of you before hiding your face in your aching hands. Sukuna didn't understand what you were doing.

“My almighty king, I bow before you to beg you to let me leave the castle,” you announced between tears.

“What?” Sukuna, Uraume and Kenjaku answered in unison.

Next →

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[the-bofurin-digest]

Jo Togame Casual Headcanons

Casual Headcanons

~ His legs are hairy in the sexiest way possible. ~ another one I like to toss into the "raised by his grandparents" basket. Probably had a terrible relationship with his father, who was ultra hard on him growing up. timid mother. ~ jeans are a sensory no no for him. they are tight, constricting, and too heavy on his body ~ attracts stray cats like the old lady in your neighborhood who feeds them. But he does it on accident. Doesn't know how he has become the local cat dad. ~ master at sudoku ~ would also probably own a few pair of Crocs for "fancy nights" ~ collects little keychain of cute characters he's won at festivals, which he's a master at doing naturally. ~isn't a big movie guy, but likes old 1950s America westerns (reminds him of his grandpa) ~He loves early spring, especially when the flowers bloom and the birds are chirping around town. ~ Loves the smell of Eucalyptus, cherry wood, and peppermint. ~ afraid of mice. I like to think he squeals like a little girl and jumps on a chair while Choji saves him by capturing the little friend and taking it outside.

Dating Headcanons

~oh sweet baby boy picks you up while he's working a booth at a festival, no doubt about it. He promises you a free snack or something every hour if you come by. And at the end of the night gives you his number. He is completely smitten and playing it cool on the outside, but on the inside he is screaming like a little girl in excitement when he gets that first text from you. -likes to keep the relationship between his partner and Shishitoren separate for awhile. He's tending to your relationship like a kindling flame and when that line gets crossed where the two worlds collide (you and his group) that flame is either going to turn into a burning love, or fizzle out into smoke and he's just not ready to face that just yet. ~ love language when receiving: physical touch. Please, run your fingers through his hair, pinch his nose when you tease him, hug him from behind when you spot him waiting for you in a crowd, hold his hand when walking, ANYTHING. He's touch starved and needs the seratonin. ~ Love language when giving: quality time. He enjoys doing anything and everything with you. Will always be there to walk you home after class or work with an extra ramune in hand for you, ready to hear about your day as you ramble on in an animated manner. He could spend every moment with you and it wouldn't be enough. ~ you aren't allowed to push the shopping cart or carry the basket when grocery shopping. That is his job thank you very much. He will also kindly remind you multiple times that he will get the heavy/ high things off the shelf. You shouldn't even be lifting a finger. Actually you know what just sit in the cart. ~ Starts using your soap or body wash sporadically. Will also leave a slightly worn but clean sweater out for you to wear because it smells like him and he knows you like that. ~ A favorite date night of his is just a quiet evening at home with some music in the background while the two of you just cook and talk about your day. He loves just doing simple domestic things with you, and standing over the stove together while you laugh and tell him the latest silly gossip is when he is happiest. ~ knows some of the best places in town to watch fireworks where no one else goes. He pulls you close, and watches you while you watch the bursts of colors in the sky.

[cursedcola]

Prompt: "Will You Marry Me?" - Proposal Headcannons Characters: Everyone :) Part(s): Heartslabyul, Savanaclaw, Octavinelle, Scarabia(Here!), Pomefiore, Ignihyde, Diasomnia(Pt.1)(Pt.2) Fandom: Twisted Wonderland Warning(s): None. I mean, unless you don't want to marry any of them. Just don't read if that's the case. Note: There may be some comma splicing here and there. Sometimes doing bullet works is more difficult than full fics smh.

Kalim is a dreamer. His mind is full of visions of the past, present, and the future. Why else do we make memories, if not to reflect on them and imagine what is to come?

This is his outlook on life. He doesn't give energy to worries or threats. He physically can't, or else he'd likely fall into an endless abyss of self-doubt. Kalim has no space in his heart for such things.

His happy-go-lucky attitude combined with this free spirit results in a loose lip. He is constantly ranting and raving about his future by your side. Which is lovely, but his over-zealous behavior can cause others not to take him seriously.

Exhibit A: Kalim proposing. Now, is this Kalim *actually* planning to propose, or is it just him beginning his weekly rant about how cute he thinks your kids will look?

Kalim's heart is an open book. He doesn't care about other people's opinions. He loves you, so he's going to say it. Every. Single. Day.

Can you blame his siblings for not believing him? For his parents not taking him seriously? He comes home one random day and spouting a tangent to begin preparing for an engagement party which just sounds like common Kailm behavior.

Not even Jamil believes him. Not after countless years of hearing Kalim's lovesick Jargen. He just groans in exhaustion and signals for everyone to ignore it.

Sweet sunshine doesn't realize that he is being overlooked until he whips out a ring to ask his mother's opinion on it, and suddenly the room is drop dead silent.

Then uproar. All his siblings are crowding around to share his excitement and it's like the room's aura made a complete change. Kalim thrives in the attention and all the well wishes.

He hopes they'll be just as happy once you say yes! If not more!

.....cue Jamil's groan. Again. This time in frustration.

They should have know. Of course he would do all this before asking.

Bless you for your patience. With his parents' blessing, Kalim once again gets wrapped up in his excitement and runs off to visit you.

Moving on. This...overzealous...behavior Kalim exhibits does not only apply to his family and friends.

My dear, he has proposed many times to you in casual conversation. Dreaming of a big wedding with a feast to serve hundreds. He displays tooth-rotting infatuation to you on a daily basis.

Kalim sends flowers and fruit baskets to your home weekly. He cherishes you like you've been dating for months, not years. The man is stuck in the puppy love stage but for him it isn't a 'stage'. It's simply how he will always be. The spark has not dimmed. He still hums as he knocks on your door, bouncing on the balls of his feet, and shoves his shoes off with super speed to tackle you in a hug.

Get it?

This is why you are not taken aback by the rapid knocking on your door. Kalim stopping by on impulse just to see you is not rare. Although, he normally would send a plethora of texts while on his way.

Even so. You don't hesitate to dry your hands from cleaning dishes, and speed walk to the door. You can hear his shoes tap against the outdoor floor in anticipation, and swing the door open with a smile.

On the other side, is Kalim down on one knee with a hand aimed to knock again. When he sees you, the largest grin spreads on his face. You don't even get to question why he is on the ground-

"Marry Me!"

Used to his excitable greetings, you laugh heartily and throw the dishrag in your hand over your shoulder. "Mhm. Mhm. I missed you too," comes out between chuckles, as you turn around so he can let himself in. You miss the way his face falls and his lips purse, before he grabs your wrist and yanks. You twirl and stumble forward, catching yourself on the door frame, hunched over with your wrist still in his grasp.

Kalim is resolute, and you can't help but gawk as he pulls out a ring wrapped in a gold, silk handkerchief from his pocket

"Marry Me," he says again, this time more firm. His ruby hues lock with yours, and he looks both at and through you at the same time, "I love you. I want you. Only you,"

He says no more. There is a lifetime for flourishes, but right now Kalim only wants you to know what is in his heart.

When you don't back away, he slips the ring over your finger. His heart hammers in his chest in a mix of jubilation and happiness. Not a moment later you are in his arms, tackled to the ground in the doorway of your home. Kisses being peppered up your arms from your ring finger to your lips.

{A bright pink diamond sits amidst a sunburst cut, and is surrounded by other pure diamonds on a silver band. The biggest expression of wealth and devotion. This ring costs enough to make you feint, but is chosen with purpose. Many say Kalim is like the sun. Yet in his eyes, you are his sun. There is no comparison. Only fact. Pink diamonds symbolize love, creativity, and romance. You are his sun, with all his love residing at the core. Also, it’s just really shiny}

If mystery was embodied in a man, it would be Jamil. You never know what is going on in Jamil's mind. Sometimes he slips. Rarely. If you can fluster him enough or find him when he hasn't slept in days. Otherwise Jamil is a brick wall when it comes to his true emotions.

Especially when it comes to you. He has always been exceedingly careful. He is still careful. He takes no chances, but he loves your game. The way you can pick him apart, and how he always has to be one step ahead. It’s challenging. It’s exciting. It’s love.

You see how he holds back. That he reigns himself in. In the few years you have spent at his side, you've learned to read him in ways that other people cannot. There are times when you get to see him become overcome with passion. When he is dancing, or when he is broom racing with his dormmates. When he is cooking a new dish or haggling prices on shopping trips.

When he confessed his feelings. It was the greatest surprise since being transported to a new universe. You had no idea how he felt. Not an inkling. Had he not said anything….well, you may have gone your entire time at NRC believing your affections were unrequited. He had no tells. Permitted none for himself.

On one hand, his ability to dilute his emotions has created many opportunities for surprises. Getting to see those little moments of passion; being one. Each action of his has a meaning that only you understand. Every glance as you pass in the halls, the brush of his fingers against yours as you sit together to study, being allowed to braid his hair even if it’s just to “keep you quiet”, all his little quips and murmurs being whispered into your ear instead of under his breath.

On the other hand, there are still barriers. Some closed tightly and no matter how hard you search for a key - there isn’t one. It was broken a long time ago and only Jamil himself can remanufacture it. Sometimes his resilience makes it hard to tell what he is planning…which can be lonely.

In your final year at NRC, many things are uncertain. This place is all you have ever known in Twisted Wonderland. With it being taken away…you do not have a floor to stand on. On the other hand, Jamil looks fine, if not *eager*, to graduate. Neither of you addressed what would become of your relationship after graduating. Jamil had thought of it, no doubt. He thinks of everything. You had as well, but were afraid to ask. When it came to the future, Jamil was always so resolute. He knew his path in life and planned to continue carving it.

The question hanging in the air being if you’d be chiseling alongside him, or in a different direction. Unknown to you, Jamil had this problem solved long before you began to wonder - and he was one step ahead. As always.

A ring. Unassuming and in plain sight, sat on the rim of the windowsill above the kitchen sink. How did it get there? You do not know, but it caught your attention as you cleaned up from breakfast. The morning sun glistened against the band, and you carefully picked it up to twirl between your fingers.

An engagement ring, but whose?

“Well, are you going to put it on or just stare at it?”

You jump and nearly drop the ring in the kitchen sink. In the reflection of the window you see Jamil, leaning against the doorway with his arms crossed and his classic unamused deadpan. At your silence, he pushes off and comes to take the ring

“Last time I take advice from - ,” he grumbles and you miss the rest of it, too distracted with how he plucks the ring from your grasp, and holds your hand more gently than you ever thought he could. He stares down at it, content, and surprised you yet again with his tender touch“hmm…it fits. Good”

It slips on your finger smoothly, and he lifts your hand to wave in your face. This time, an unspoken communication passes between you. A promise that you are going to have a lifetime to pick apart those little mannerisms of his - and that he wants you to. He loves this game of secrets just as much as you do.

“Be my spouse. Go where I go, and we’ll be fine. Together….I can’t handle if you’re not near. I’ll lose my hair, do you want that? Want me to go bald?…come with me. You are the one happiness that I refuse to sacrifice,”

{ Rose gold with a floral cut and black gemstone accents. Jamil’s ring is small, unassuming, yet the closer you look the lore detail you will see carved into the gold band. You will note the little gems, upholding the core. Some pure as the ring’s heart and others a sharp contrast - drawing attention to the center. Jamil’s ring is somehow both modest and bold at the same time. A reflection of the giver}

[dontsh0vethesun]

secret admirer

masterlist

melissa schemmenti x reader

i'm not good at writing fluff :( , valentines day, a little kiss, that's it

wc: 1.2k

You drove to school alone this Valentine’s Day, arriving just on time after waking up later than you should have. By the time you reached the break room, it was practically empty, with just a few of your colleagues milling about, savouring the last few minutes before the children arrived.

You approached the counter to pour your morning coffee but, beside the empty pot was your favourite mug. The lid was on to keep the drink warm, just as you always have it, and a note with your name and a smiling face was stuck to its side. You smiled fondly at the gesture, taking a sip gladly to taste the beverage concocted just to your liking. Today was already off to a good start.

…

You’d given in to the holiday with heart-shaped decorations hanging from the walls; your class had practically forced you into making them, and the afternoon prior was dedicated to cutting out pink and red paper and glueing strips together into chains. Today, by popular request, you spent the morning decorating cards. By your instruction, the children created messages of friendship for the person sitting beside them with a painfully large amount of glitter spread across the desks. The sparkling pinks and purples will stay cemented into the carpet for eternity, you’re sure.

Janine made her rounds through the corridors with her usual grin and a wicker basket full of cardstock trimmed into rounded hearts. Somehow, she’d managed to personalise enough messages for all of the children in the second and third grades. Apparently, she had aimed to conquer the whole school, but after getting cramp more than once, she settled on her two favourite grades instead.

“Hi, everyone,” she smiled when she walked in, earning a few waves from the class whilst they focussed on their work. You’d tricked them into working on the curriculum by making each and every task painfully Valentine’s themed. “Cupid comes bearing gifts. I’m Cupid, by the way, I didn’t just let some random guy bring candies for the kids,” she added, making you laugh just as her mumblings often do.

“Everybody show Cupid your good manners,” you spoke as Janine placed her gifts in front of each student. She was rewarded with polite ‘thank yous’ from your whole class until her basket was finally emptied besides one more token of adoration.

“You have a secret admirer,” she smiled excitedly when she approached you, handing you a chocolate rose and a sealed envelope. You felt your cheeks heat up at the attention and the precise, cursive lettering of your name in golden pen.

You waited for the class to settle down again before you peeled it open, pulling out the simple square of white card inside. It was brief and vague but enough to make your heart thump against your chest and your stomach swarm with an excitement that sent a shiver through you. The sender merely wished you a good day with a clumsily scribbled bouquet of flowers - it was beyond endearing.

…

Your eyes met Melissa’s for the first time of the day when you walked into the breakroom for your lunch; she greeted you with a smile that made you swoon and a wink before she showed you the lunch she’d brought in for you. It was years ago that she began bringing you homemade meals, but the sweet novelty of it could never begin to fade away; each forkful was a hug from the older woman, a piece of her to show she cares. From the very first time she pushed a tupperware container your way, you’ve always pondered the fact that - in those moments - her lips taste just the same as yours.

Unfortunately for you, the seat beside the woman who harboured your affections was not free. Instead, you settled on the one across from her. You settled on fleeting glances, selfishly wanting her attention to be on you whenever she spoke, fidgeting in your seat just so she would glance in your direction.

Wordlessly, she slid a packet of your favourite candy your way once you’d licked your fork clean of your final bite - nobody mentioned the soft fondness of her actions.

She walked with you back to your class just as she always does. Considering her classroom is directly opposite yours, it’s not much of a detour, but you appreciate the beating of your heart it causes to quicken.

“Heard you got a secret admirer,” she winked with a bump of her shoulder into yours, you giggled bashfully and almost hid your face from her gaze - you’d have shied away if her eyes weren’t so captivating. “Any idea who it is?”

“Not sure,” you answered. “But I think I know who I want it to be.”

There was a takeout cup of hot chocolate from your favourite coffee shop down the street sitting next to a Valentine-themed cupcake on your desk. You wondered how it got there while happily laughing at the sight. This secret admirer was going above and beyond.

…

By the time you were able to leave for the day, the majority of your colleagues had already uttered a goodbye as they passed your room. After a meeting with a parent, your late departure left your car with empty spaces around it - you didn’t recognise any of the vehicles still there, and you wondered if they were all getting ready for dates right now.

As you approached your car with your keys in hand, you saw the distinct shape of a bunch of flowers tucked beneath the windscreen wipers. The time and attention spent on you made your head swim gleefully, and you couldn’t help but grin at the note - your cheeks were beginning to hurt. That same writing that made your name look more beautiful than you could’ve imagined, gave the simple instruction of a location and time. You had to hurry to make sure to be ready for 6 PM.

…

The restaurant was filled with couples; you could tell that some were on first dates with awkward conversations and fleeting eye contact. You weaved through the nauseatingly large amount of patrons to where you saw familiar auburn hair. The lightly curled locks fell down her back, sitting against the green satin of her dress; you could see her leg crossed over the other and the finger that trailed along the stem of a wine glass.

You could hear the thrumming of your pulse as you grew nearer.

Your hand grazed the skin of her shoulder once you reached her, and Melissa peered up at you from where she sat, grazing her sights over your figure appreciatively.

“Hi, hon,” she breathed. “Surprised?”

“So surprised,” you giggled, feeling her grin against your lips when you leaned down to greet her with a kiss.

“You look gorgeous, babe,” she added whilst you sat down. Your cheeks burned beneath her compliment.

“So do you,” you returned. “Everyone in here must be jealous that I’m on a date with a Phillie eleven.”

“Flatterer,” she scoffed. You basked in the pink tinting of her cheeks and watched the way her tongue slid over her bottom lip as she looked at you.

“I’ve gotta say,” you started teasingly, watching her over the rim of your glass as you took a sip. “You could’ve given me a challenge.”

“Hm?” she smirked with a tilt of her head.

“Well, it’s not difficult to guess who your secret admirer is when you’ve been married to them for two years.”

[yurinaa-world]

Could I request Aventurine with an s/o who likes giving him handmade gifts?

Characters: Aventurine x Gender-neutral Reader

Synopsis: with a s/o that likes giving him handmade gifts

Warnings fluff, spelling mistakes

𝒜𝓋𝑒𝓃𝓉𝓊𝓇𝒾𝓃𝑒

He finds it so cute that you made him something! Like watching you hide the little homemade gift or basket full of homemade gifts by your side, a shy look on your face while asking him for some of his time. 

and of course, he’ll give his time! He’ll give you his entire day for your cute aventurine. Don’t be so nervous around! He’ll always love whatever you make.

If you're gonna give a gift then you should come closer, he can barely hear you! Why not just come a little bit closer? A little bit more. Why don’t you just sit in his lap and he’ll watch you explain the cute little homemade flower bouquet you made for him

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

You always loved making him gifts, from little to big. It didn’t matter to you how much time it would take since hearing him compliment you and wear the thing you made for him. It’s a rose? Then he’ll put it in his pocket—you can see the petals poking out—he’ll kiss it before a match for “good luck” or if it's a cute earring, put it on his free ear. 

Any of yours he’ll cherish the most.

“Aventurine I got you a gift”

Keeping the bag to your side. You still feel a little shy when giving him gifts even after all this time, you can’t help but wonder what his reaction will be this time. 

He looked tired. He just came back from work. Sitting on the couch comfortably, his jacket and hat on the coat rack, vest unbuttoned; a lazy smile appearing on his face when he sees—he already sees the shy look in your eyes—stretching his back and a soft sigh leaving his throat. 

“What are you doing over there? Come closer.”

 You come closer to him. Seeing him close makes you a little more excited about the gift you’re about to give—he doesn’t seem happy with the distance. “How about a little closer.” He grabs the wrist that wasn’t holding the bag and pulls you onto his lap. Which makes you freeze at this action.

The bag is now on top of your lap. His hands go to take the bag from your lap; his hand pulls out a small little gold necklace,  the initial “K” attached to the little necklace, he just goes silent staring at the little initial before letting out a little laugh.

Taking the chain and putting it around his neck, clinking the two parts together. “Do you like it?” You ask, which is such a silly thing to even ask. “Why wouldn't I like it?” Cupping your chin and giving a small little kiss as his little thank you. 

Which he knows could never be enough to thank you.

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