#and while starring at them contemplating my fate i remembered i have something to look forward to on friday

[taylorsabrina]

thank god sabrina's christmas special comes this week, because the number of times i've genuinely thought of taking my life in the past 48hrs is kinda scary.

[lixiesfreckless]

Sugar & Spice | h. j.

A Sugar Across The Hall bonus scene

➸ synopsis: in reality, Joshua Hong can never say no to you.

➸ starring: joshua hong x reader

➸ word count: 1.9k words

➸ general content: boyfriend!joshua, kissing, slightly more than kissing lmao

➸ warnings: suggestive content, brief mention of alcohol

➸ rating: TV 16+

➸ author’s note: this can be read as a stand-alone BUT…happy one year anniversary to my magnum opus, sath. I love it to death, and I’m still not done writing for these characters, but for now, you get a much needed not-quite-hallmark-channel-approved scene. and before you get it twisted, this is and will always be dedicated to my beloved @ashonheavenscloud , but I’d like to give special thanks to @catboyieejeno for always encouraging me to stir the pot <3 love you guys a ton mwah

♫ this fic has a soundtrack! touch by keshi uhhhhhh somebody by keshi aahhhhhhh

Oh, he's really done it now.

Walking around some lively street corner a few blocks away from your shared apartment building, Joshua leads the two of you through downtown NYC at the height of spring. Strangers pass by your lovestruck duo without a second glance, not bothering to watch you look back at him with a borderline absurd amount of fondness in your irises. It's funny; usually Joshua wouldn't give spring a chance when it came to stating his favorite season, but since you waltzed into his life, he can confidently say that any of them are worthwhile—as long as you're with him. He squeezes your hand for what feels like the millionth time this evening, an action that makes you giggle happily to yourself.

Because you find it cute.

Oh, how you have no idea at all.

How tortuous this night has been for Joshua. How he regrets the day that he walked into that fateful department store, not looking for anything in particular but coming to a full stop in front of a specific mannequin. How he mentally patted himself on the back for remembering your size when you opened the gift bag a few hours earlier, eyes alight in excitement as you pulled out the present, letting the fabric unroll in your fingertips. How his face heated up as you opened your apartment door, and he quickly noted how the mannequin did the dress no justice.

Truthfully, if the dress looked as good on the mannequin as it did on you, he would have never taken it off the rack. He'd know better.

Because all through dinner he had to stop himself from staring at you and the slope of your neck, broken up by the thin straps of the halter dress and abandoned by your hair that was conveniently(to his demise) in an updo, to show off the open back. Luckily, you were so delighted by the Greek restaurant that you'd picked out that you hardly noticed his deepening flush, or the way he nearly downed his white wine in one go the second the server left your table.

And now, as you swing his hand and practically run up the stairs(because the elevator is broken, again), he finds himself almost dreading the night ahead. It's a Thursday, which means self care and Grey’s Anatomy, and while he would never turn down spending time with you, being that close to you for a prolonged period of time after the night he's had would be borderline masochistic.

Of course he contemplates all of this, but in reality, Joshua Hong can never say no to you.

So you unlock the door to your home, blabbering on about something that had happened at work and completely oblivious to the way that your boyfriend is eyeing you, torn between running towards you and running across the hall to get a grip on himself.

“Johnny went off at a customer yesterday,” you chuckled, crossing the room to set your purse down on the kitchen table. “They were being so rude, and over spilled milk too—throwing a fit over where we get our coffee beans imported from–”

You yelp in surprise, followed by a giggle at the feeling of Joshua’s hands encircling your waist from behind. His head settles in the space on your shoulder, but not before leaving a light kiss to the exposed skin of your neck.

“Hi,” you greet him, hands coming up to hold onto his forearms as you try to decipher the reason for this sudden display of affection.

“Hi,” he sighs, nose nudging against your pulse point, “Did I ever tell you how stunning you look in that dress?”

“No, I must have misheard you the first fifty times.”

He laughs at your little jab, willing his hands to stay still despite his growing desire to let them wander. You make the terrible decision to turn just enough so you can look at him, and it's this position that puts Joshua at his most vulnerable.

“Ready to wrap up season five?”

Looking up at him the way that you are paired with your slightly parted lips and flushed demeanor, Joshua finds himself at a loss for words, instinctively leaning into your face as his restraint wears thin. And your unfazed and accepting disposition makes it that much worse for him, his breath shaking as you flutter your eyes shut and part your lips.

The first touch of his lips is familiar, his kiss walking the line between mind-numbingly sweet and devastatingly tender as one of his hands comes up to lift your jaw. But instead of pulling away like he had originally intended, he presses harder against your mouth with a small sigh, unable to find any logical objection to the change of plans.

Your giggly demeanor fizzles out under the heat of his mouth, and your breath escapes you once his hand slides down to your neck, fingers languidly tracing the curve and playing with the straps that rest there. In contrast to his slow hands, his kisses grow faster and almost desperate, not wanting to separate for even a second as he tilts his head and slants his mouth against yours.

You stumble backwards slightly in pleasant surprise, and the table hits just above the hem of your skirt before the arm around your waist tightens, pulling you further into Joshua’s chest.

He takes this opportunity to lean forward slightly, clearing the table with a sweep of the arm that was holding you before hoisting you up onto it, hands firm on your thighs and then sliding down to your knees so he can part them.

“Josh,” you whisper breathlessly, clutching onto his shoulders as your eyes dazedly flicker between his lips and his eyes. His lower lip gets trapped between his teeth as his strength falters, gaze hardly able to meet yours as his fingers dance along the scalloped hem of your dress.

“Oh God, don't do that baby,” he nearly moans, and the pet name turns your brain waves into radio static. You've never heard him sound so helpless, as if his very fate would be decided by whatever you choose to say next. “You make it so hard to just sit and watch TV with you sometimes. Especially when you look like this.”

Knowing now that you have the upper hand, you decide to humor yourself and tease him a bit, leaning forward with a slight smirk on your lips. “Like what?”

His eyes drink you in from head to toe, taking their time to memorize all of your body lines in the flattering dress. If the opportunity were to present itself tonight, he doesn't know whether he would even want to take it off of you.

He leans in close, hoping that his desire translates well as it's mumbled against the skin of your neck.

“So damn good.”

His confession against your sensitive skin has you muffling a whine, gripping the edge of the table as your rationale evaporates under his searing lips, traveling higher and higher with each press.

You can't take his teasing much longer, and frankly, this side of him doesn't come out often enough for you to pass up an opportunity such as this. Meredith Grey will have to wait.

“You know…” you whisper, head tilting back as you feel his hand slipping behind your neck to support it, “they play reruns on Friday nights too.”

“Thank God, ‘cause you in this dress has been driving me crazy since you put it on,” he chuckles against your lips before catching them with his again, taking his time now to fully taste you, swiping his tongue along your bottom lip to elicit that delightful shiver that runs up your spine. You respond in earnest with your hands, carding through his brown locks and nearly melting when he doesn't suppress the groan that tumbles from his throat.

He kisses you like you’re air itself, hands sliding up your skirt and body pressing against yours, and once your nails slide down his scalp he softly groans into your mouth, moving onto kissing across your jawline. You repeat the action while winding your legs around Joshua’s waist, and he whines quietly into your neck, “Please…tell me to stop before I can’t.”

So subtly you almost miss it, he rolls his hips into yours, his desires clouding his judgment as a foreign sound jumps to the top of your throat. Immediately your attention is drawn to the heat you feel in your abdomen, and while you have grown accustomed to bearing it in silence, you’re finding it increasingly hard to ignore with him like this, hands all over you.

Wanting you.

He does it again, with a little more pressure this time, and your head falls back as a whimper just barely tumbles out of your lips. He shivers slightly, nearly overcome with the exertion of fighting every urge to take you on this table this instant.

To temporarily solve this problem, his lips find yours again, but feeling your muffled moans against him proves to be no more effective than trying to put out a forest fire with a garden hose.

As his hips softly grind into yours and your kisses get more and more frantic, your voice of reason pushes through the heavy cloud of lust at the forefront of your brain. “Wait, I've never–”

“We don't have to baby,” he cuts you off, wanting to make his intentions clear despite being unable to put an inch of space between the two of you, “and I don't want to just yet, but I…”

His hand that was previously bunched in your dress comes up to cradle your jaw, thumb brushing gently against the redness of your cheek as he calms himself down with a deep breath.

And as he gazes at you with nothing but adoration in his brown irises, you can almost feel the words coming before he says them out loud.

“I…I am so in love with you,” he begins, fighting a chuckle born out of the absurd location of this sudden confession, “that sometimes, when I look at you, I can’t even think straight, and I…” he trails off, struggling to find the right words the longer he stares at you.

You, on the other hand, are practically beaming, bottom lip trapped by your teeth in an attempt to fight the smile you’d be flashing him, so as to not distract him any further. But you soon realize; with him seated between your legs, there’s not much you can do to help him out here.

So you switch to offense, legs squeezing him tight around his waist to pull his hips back to yours. “You what?”

His chocolate eyes darken to a coffee color in seconds, and the hand that was on your hip tightens again, keeping you firm in place on the table as you bat your eyelashes at him.

“Sometimes I wish I could just show you how much you drive me crazy.”

You don’t hesitate, lifting your chin to meet his lips in a deceptively chaste kiss as your hands fall onto the buttons on his shirt, playing with them just to rile him up further.

You shrug, feigning indifference. “Maybe you can.”

And at that, before you can even register what’s happening, he’s sliding an arm around your waist and under your knees, picking you up and heading towards your bedroom with a chuckle.

“Maybe I should.”

‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. ✧˚₊‧⋆‧

click to read Sugar Across The Hall

[yourtamaki]

the broken melody of us

matsukawa x f!reader

word count: 4k

request: mattsun hurt/comfort + neglect?

warnings: hurt/comfort, neglect, body worship, praise kink, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex, creampie, cockwarming

it was a song and dance at this point. a well rehearsed play with a blinding spotlight on the exhausted actors onstage. both of you go through the motions, no life behind the words you’ve spoken so many times they held no meaning anymore. you don’t know why you keep up the charade. you never expect a different result yet still you pick up the phone everyday and call your boyfriend. 

“you think you’ll be home in time for dinner?” 

sometimes you get a different, automated message. “maybe. might have to stay late,” or “can’t, i’ve gotta finish something up,” or your least favourite. a simple, clipped, “no.” 

“don’t stay out too late.” you should cut this part from the script, he never listens. 

“i’ll try.” 

“i love you.” this line is always to be spoken quietly, followed by holding your breath while you wait for his response. it’s the only reason you make these calls. this is your only chance to hear him say it and pretend he means it as much as he once did.

“love you too.” the line goes dead, the lights dim and he’s gone. you’re alone on an empty stage staring out at a bored audience. bored of the foolish protagonist who keeps them locked in the theatre, playing the same ending over and over and expecting something to give, to change. they watch on, silent and judging while you barter away what little dignity you have left. 

let them watch. 

the rejection doesn’t sting as badly as it used to. you’ve learned to bear it, swallow down the hurt that sits like a stone in your gut and go about your day, filling it with any meaningless errand that would stop your mind from wandering back to him. 

mattsun was subtle, you could give him that much. the way he slowly pulled away from your arms until you could hardly remember how he felt beneath your palms. the realization that you don’t really know your boyfriend anymore was slow to hit you but it knocked the air out of your lungs when it did. it crashed down on you when you woke in the middle of the night and turned to stare at his back gently rising and falling with every breath. his hair is longer then you remember and you don’t know why the thought has a lump forming in your throat. you focus instead on the broad expanse of his back. he’s tense, even in sleep, shoulders rigid and you’re sure if you could see his face, his brows would be furrowed. subtle changes that are enough for you to realize you’ve been shut out of his life.

you used to know him. when you were university kids who thought the future would never catch up to them and spent countless days in each other’s company. it wasn’t so much you knew him, it felt like you were him. and he was you. less attached to the hip and more intertwined with one another. you two were of one mind, to the point where you knew what the other needed before they’d even say it. 

your mattsun who was always just a text away. 

your mattsun who would indulge your late night drives, who would look at you with a permanent crooked smile on his face and love in his eyes. 

“you think we’ll always be like this?” you said one night, straddling him in panties and a baggy hoodie in the backseat and lazily kissing beneath the stars. and because he was yours and understood every little anxious thought that crossed your mind, he didn’t question why you were asking, didn’t make you explain what you meant, didn’t try to make a half assed joke about it. 

his hands trailed up your sides as he contemplated his answer, sending shivers up your spine. “probably not. things always change. we’ll change with them.” 

“what if things get worse?” 

“they might. but what if they get better? just cause it’s different doesn’t mean it's scary, angel.” 

“i know. but i hate thinking about it cause things are so good right now. i want it to last forever.” 

“we got time. let’s make the most of it, yeah?” he gripped your hips, slowly grinding you against his growing bulge and pulling you back into a kiss, sighing as your lips slotted together. you took control of the pace and grinned against him when a groan spilled into your mouth. 

“is that your way of saying we should hurry up and fuck?” 

“it’s working, isn’t it?” before you could pull your sweater up over your head, he cupped your face and brought your forehead to his, sincerity shining through his dark eyes. “i’ll always love you. that’ll never change. got it?”

“got it.” you managed to push the words out despite the lump that formed in your throat. he kept his eyes locked on yours as he slid your panties to the side and sank inside you, the familiar stretch a welcome one. 

it was nothing special, one night of many spent panting into each other’s mouths with an unspoken promise still hanging from your lips. but it was a memory you circled back to often, so often you could hear the echo of his vow ring through your head. 

your fears came to pass not long after that. life caught up and tore him from you, leaving you a shattered mess in the aftermath. you tried to fit jagged pieces of yourself back together in an attempt to remake the person you used to be but what stared back at you only left you keenly aware of the empty space he used to reside. 

these days, you like going to the roof of your apartment and letting the wind blow through those countless gaps in your soul. you feel whole for a short while as it whistles through you, the air filled with the broken melody of you, of the relationship that slips past your grasp more everyday. it’s shrill and ear piercing and leaves goosebumps littered on your skin. 

you can’t stop listening to it. 

it’s where you were now, staring out as the sun dipped below the horizon and listening to the haunting sound that’s been your only company in recent memory. later, you’ll go home and crawl into bed desperate for any warmth and no time to miss the heat of a body next to yours. your phone lights up bright in contrast to the darkening sky and it takes you a few moments of staring blankly at the screen for it to sink in that mattsun is trying to call you. 

this isn’t part of the script. 

you don’t know your lines. 

and yet you find yourself answering anyway, hitting the green button before the call drops and you raise your phone to your ear silently. 

“are you okay?” his voice comes out rushed and strung together almost before your phone is pressed to your ear. 

“why’re you asking?” 

“remember that time you failed that essay? i think it was third year and you hid in your room all day and wouldn’t answer the phone?” you did remember. how you couldn’t bear to face the world that day with the crushing weight of failure hanging over you and how shocked you were to see mattsun standing at the front door. “did i ever tell you why i checked up on you?” 

“no.” 

“the whole day i felt, in my gut, like i needed to see you. i can’t describe it, it was like a stab that just dug deeper until i went to your place. would you believe me if i said i have that feeling right now?” 

“i- i would.” you say quietly, wondering if he could even hear you over the roar of the wind. 

“are you okay?” he repeats. there’s a weight behind his words that has tears springing to your eyes. 

“no, issei ‘m not.” 

“i’m almost home, i’m parking right now. i’ll be up in a few minutes, okay? wait for me, angel.” 

you were always waiting for him, weren’t you? what's a couple more minutes? you hang up and try in vain push down the wave of anxiousness that hits you. it’s just mattsun, you try to remind yourself. even if it’s been awhile since you’ve really felt like a part of his life, he’s still the person you fell in love with. right?

even if the issei from the past would never have made you feel so alone. the issei that was free from the hardships of real life, of 9-5s and bills due and rent to pay. you miss that issei, mourn for him on empty rooftops everyday. maybe he’s still alive somewhere within this new issei but it’s not like you would know. 

you head off the roof, shivering slightly as you make your way home. the days were only getting colder, you should’ve known not to stay out for so long. you were trying to get your shaky hands to cooperate and unlock the door when you hear the elevator dings open and your name being called out. 

“you weren’t home?” he asks, gently prying your keys from your grasp and opening the door for you both. as soon as he locks it behind you, his hands are covering yours once more. “baby you’re freezing.” 

words. where were your words? you couldn’t call up any as he brought your joined hands to his mouth, blowing hot air on them and rubbing them between his to warm them up. this is the closest you’ve been to him in who knows how long and you couldn’t summon up a single sentence. it’s not your fault. his attention has always stunned you into silence. 

he thought you were painfully shy the first time you met and though that was half true, you mostly found yourself silently panicking about the handsome man that suddenly sat beside you. the professor had paired the class off to discuss the readings for that lecture and your interest had only come to life when you saw the dark haired man make his way to you. 

“i’m gonna be honest.” he said as he plopped down beside you and showed you the blank document open on his laptop. “i have no idea what we’re supposed to be doing right now. do you?” 

it was his eyes, you decided much later, hugging your pillow and staring at the text you just received from a new number. you came alive under his gaze like you could finally catch your breath, everything dull until his eyes landed on you. you don’t believe in love at first sight, this was something different. it was the dust of collapsing stars finding each other once more. it was strings of fate being braided together. it was more profound, more important than love and it all happened in a moment. 

you nodded in response to his earlier question though it was clear neither of you were paying any attention to what was going on in class, too caught up in the small bubble that surrounded you and drowned out the rest of the world. 

“matsukawa. i’m- my name’s matsukawa.” you must’ve given your name in return judging by the smile he gave you in return. “so what’re we doing, partner?”

this time, you forced a proper response, intensely aware of how you held yourself in a way you’ve never been before. “yeah, she just wants us to talk about today’s reading.” 

matsukawa watched you pull up your notes, resting his head in his hand while you began explaining the general concepts. you paused when you noticed he was still looking at you and not at the notes you had angled towards him. 

“am i explaining it okay?” 

“we’re a month into the semester, how have i not noticed you before?” 

“guess you don’t notice something you’re not looking for.” 

just then the professor grabbed everyone’s attention, the student’s quietly migrating back to their seats but matsukawa stayed where he was. instead, you could just hear him speak under his breath, more to himself then to you but you still managed to pick it up, your face going hot as it echoed in your head. “trust me, i’m looking now.” 

the memory leaves you more vulnerable than you expected, soft in his arms as the numbness finally fades and the shaking stops.

“where were you?” he says.

“the roof.” his brows furrow, lips pulled down in a frown. it’s strange feeling yourself falling back into reading him so easily, not needing him to ask to know he wanted you to explain why. “i like going up there. this place is too quiet with just me in it.” 

the longer you watch him, the more you pick up from his body language. the confusion then understanding that flits across his face, the underlying care you’re so familiar with as he smooths his thumb over the back of your hand. but more than anything you start to see his guilt. his muscles are rigid with it, it swims in his eyes that never quite seem to meet yours. 

“i’ve fucked up, haven't i?” he finally says when he realizes you won’t be the one to breach the subject. 

“issei…”

“no, i have. things have been so endless, i feel like i’m half awake and i’ve hurt you because of it.” 

you squeeze his hands, trying to reassure him. “just talk to me. please.” 

��i hate it. work is nonstop, everyday is the same shit over and over. it’s just a wave that keeps knocking me down and i can barely get my footing before it pushes me down again. and every day i think about quitting just to get ready the next morning. 

“if i was alone, if… if i didn’t have you i would’ve quit so long ago but i want to give you the life you deserve and i can’t do that if i’m broke. and it all might be for nothing cause i might’ve lost you already.” 

the confession ends with mattsun clearing his throat, blinking fast and concentrating solely on your laced hands. you can’t seem to catch your breath, struggling under the weight he had carried silently until now as he finally shares the burden with you. 

“you haven’t lost me, issei. look at me.” you wait until his eyes meet yours before dropping your voice to a whisper. “you haven’t lost me.”

“i don’t deserve you.” 

“it’s not about deserving, i chose you. i chose to love you, i chose to stay when things got bad. yeah, you hurt me.” it’s impossible to miss the full body flinch at your words, “and i’m not ready to forgive you just yet. but that doesn’t mean i’m giving up on us. i don’t want you working yourself to death for me. i don’t care where we live or how much money you spend on me. i don’t need all of that, i just need you. got it?” 

“got it.” you see his adam’s apple bob as he swallows down whatever feeling overcomes him, “i’m sorry.”

“i know.”

“tell me what you need, please. i need- i need to make this right.” 

you answer by leaning forward and mattsun meets you halfway. the kiss is soft in contrast to the way you bundle the front of his shirt in your fists, afraid the moment might end before it’s even begun but mattsun takes his time cherishing you. there’s regret and gratitude and love that dances across your tongue and the taste has pressure building behind your eyes. 

it isn’t enough. you need him closer, need him to line the cracks of your soul with his touch. you pull just far back enough to break the kiss and mumble against his lips, “more, ‘sei please. i’m so cold.” 

“anything you want, pretty baby. let me make you feel good, yeah?” 

his lips crash back down on yours with renewed eagerness. there’s a desperation that wasn’t there a moment ago fuelling you both and urging you to stumble blind into the bedroom, barely letting your mouths detach as you fumble and undress each other. 

it’s not until you’re naked before him that your head clears a bit and shyness comes creeping in. he cups your face as though he could sense you curling into yourself and simply says, “beautiful.” 

the utter conviction in his voice is enough to dispel any insecurities before they have a chance to latch on and you turn your head to kiss the center of his palm, silently telling him you were all right. together you land in a tangled heap in bed, his half hard cock resting on your thigh. mattsun kisses his way down your neck, licking and sucking at every sensitive spot he had mapped out over the years. 

“issei…” you say, impatience tinging your voice as you feel your core throb with need. 

“i’ll get you there, angel, you know i will. let me take my time, i missed you.” 

true to his word, he began kissing every inch of skin he could reach. your tits, your stomach, your thighs all the way down to your ankles, he made sure to shower with affection. it’s nearly overwhelming. you knew you were starved for his attention but it feels like something breaks loose inside you the longer his mouth trails over your body, whispering declarations into your skin that left you tingling in his wake. by the time his fingers dip between your legs, your thighs are sticky with arousal, clit thrumming and begging to be touched. 

“look at my pretty baby’s pussy. all wet just for me?” 

“mhmm ‘s all for you, issei.” 

he hums, swirling his middle finger around your entrance and pressing the thick digit inside with ease. it’s only a few pumps later he adds another, stretching out your gummy walls. his other hand drifts over your mound, his thumb finally giving your clit some attention as his fingers graze over a spot inside you that has your hips rising off the bed. 

“stay still. you want to be my good girl, right?” the quiet authority that radiates from mattsun has you clenching around him, doing your best to do as he asks and keep your legs spread for him. “there you go. you’re taking me so well, baby. you’re close, aren’t you? i can feel it” 

mattsun loves showing off how well he knew your body, how it never took long for you to crumble beneath him. a few more idle circles with the pad of his thumb and your orgasm washes over you, rising gently and leaving you relaxed in its wake. 

that state didn’t last long as he replaces his thumb with his mouth, sucking at your clit that twitches against his tongue, still sensitive from your high. “issei! w-wait please give me a sec-” 

his glare is enough to cut through your babbling, his fingers never slowing in their strokes against that sweet spot. you let out a low moan as he adds yet another finger, the stretch just shy of uncomfortable but it’s quick to fade into pleasure once again. the flame in your gut is far more intense this time and you can’t stop the whimpers he pulls from you. you thread your fingers through his dark curls, tugging on them and pulling him deeper into your folds.

“that’s it, princess. cum on my tongue and i’ll stuff you full, i promise. you can do it, c’mon baby.” 

the encouragement has the coil in your gut tightening once more and the lewd sounds of mattsun lapping up every drop that escapes you is enough to snap it. when the blood stops ringing in your ears, you realize he’s shifted your positions. he’s sat cross-legged on the bed with you pulled into his lap, legs locked around his waist. his cock is pinned between your stomachs, smearing precum on your skin and your mouth waters as you catch sight of the blushing tip. 

he whispers your name to grab your attention, naked devotion plain on his face when you gaze up at him. “i love you.” 

this. this was your breaking point. the words you longed to hear every time you picked up the phone for those dreaded calls. your vision blurs with tears that well up and spill down your cheeks before you could blink them away. “you do?” 

“i do, baby, with everything i’ve got. i-“ he falters for a moments, visibly steeling himself for what he wanted to say. “i want to spend the rest of my life with you. there’s not a future i can picture that doesn’t include you. you’re it for me.” 

“i want that too ‘sei.” you hiccup, more tears trickle out faster than you can wipe them clear. 

you feel his whole body relax, hands rubbing at your sides to soothe you. “don’t cry, angel. wait till i’m inside you at least.” 

“shut up.” your laugh comes out watery but it feels good to smile. “how do you go from sweet to nasty so fast?” 

“just wanted to see you smile.” you try and fail to suppress another grin that only widens when mattsun peppers your cheeks with loud kisses. “so pretty and all mine.”

“all yours.” you repeat, grinding your soaked folds along the underside of his cock. “and you’re mine, right?” 

“that’s right, princess. go on, take what’s yours.” 

sinking down on mattsun feels like coming home, the empty ache finally gone as he fills you and you both moan when he bottoms out. there’s no way for you to bounce in this position but you find that you don’t mind. you feel closer to him like this, what little space there is between you vibrating with how vulnerable you both were. 

it’s relaxing, slowly rolling your hips against each other, not building towards anything and indulging in the other’s touch. your hands roam across his broad back, sucking dark marks into his neck while he grabs at your ass, kneading and groping so possessively you clench around him. 

“fuck.” he groans next to your ear. “keeping squeezing me with that princess cunt, you feel so fucking good. just like that, good girl.” 

“issei…” you whimper, pressure gradually building in your gut as your grinding gets sloppy and legs grow weak. 

“what is it, baby? use your words.” 

“want more, ‘sei i want your cum.” 

“yeah? want me to fill up this greedy pussy and keep you warm with my cum?” he leans forward, keeping you cradled in his arms as your back hits the mattress, your legs still crossed around his waist keeping him as close to you as possible. 

you nod, half delirious with need and mattsun begins thrusting in earnest. his cock is so thick he nudges against every sensitive spot along your walls, his tip battering just below your cervix and hitting so deep you swear you can feel it in your throat. his hands pry yours open from where you had been gripping the sheets and laces his fingers with yours. a swell of love rises in you and has you gasping for air as he fucks you into the mattress. you can’t even hear your own moans over the squelch as you grow wetter and wetter and the smack of his heavy balls against your ass.

your orgasm takes both of you by surprise, ripping through you so violently you’re left a shaking mess. mattsun’s hips stutter, bucking wildly into you as he nears his own high and you stare in awe as he reaches it. it’s a sight you’ll never get enough of, how beautiful he looks as he spills endlessly inside you, mindlessly grinding it deeper with his softening cock. 

“you okay, angel?” he asks, pulling you in for a sweet, lingering kiss. 

“mhmm. can we stay like this?” you weren’t ready to put any space between you, not so soon after reconnecting.

“‘course we can.” he settles over you, knowing exactly what you need. his weight a reassurance that grounds you in a way words never could. it’s a conversation in its own right, one that could only pass between two people who knew each other as well as you knew each other. in the quiet afterglow he tells you that he’s here with you. that you were going to work on being okay again. that he wouldn’t let you feel that lonely ever again. and you believe him with every fibre of your being. 

dedicated to: @honeykeigo @ohno-otome @keigobaby @saintdabi @toshidou @sawam0chi

[tellerluna-stories]

ii. rex lapis

The sands of time shifted once more, and now Rex Lapis ruled over Liyue. His land overflowed with wealth, and all who passed through Liyue saw their businesses prosper. The people who now walked the paved streets of Liyue had happily never known the tragedies of war, and they lived out their lives in blissful ignorance.

Within the Golden House, Rex Lapis paced around restlessly. His horns and claws were nowhere to be seen, as Liyue had no need for such instruments of war. The simple white robes he had donned for battle had been replaced with layers of multicoloured ceremonial robes and intricate headdresses that only the finest artisans could craft.

With these robes came great honour and responsibility, a reminder that the fate of Liyue rested solely upon the shoulders of Rex Lapis. Though they were made of mere fabric, at times Rex Lapis felt that they weighed heavier than chains of pure gold.

He sighed and fiddled with his sleeves— though he was, in fact, the reason mora existed in the very first place, he had to admit he was tired of seeing the same golden shimmer that surrounded him everywhere he looked.

“My lord.”

Without even turning around, he replied, “I told you not to be so formal with me.”

“Alright, alright.” You smiled and spread your hands disarmingly. “Thousands of years, but you’re still as legalistic as ever.”

Unlike Rex Lapis, you had not chosen to change too much about yourself in the years following the Archon War, whether in appearance or personality. It somewhat brought him comfort knowing that in a world that was constantly changing too fast for him to keep up, there was still one person who could keep him anchored; no matter what era you were in, you could always quickly adjust to the practices and customs around you without forcing yourself to mold to them.

“Thousands of years, and I still need to remind you that titles are unnecessary, my friend.”

“Ah, but the question is: am I genuinely forgetting to drop them, or do I keep using them just to irk you?”

He turned around, face carefully devoid of any emotion. “My friend, do you happen to fear the wrath of the Rock?”

He watched in satisfaction as the smug look on your face quickly morphed into one of fearful respect. “As a matter of fact I do, so let’s change the topic. Your robes are simply majestic, my— I mean, Rex Lapis!”

“Do you not have one just like this?” Rex Lapis looked down at his embellished sleeves— the people of Liyue had gifted both of you with ceremonial robes, but he had yet to see you wear them. “If I recall, yours had the phoenix embroidered on the front.”

“Oh yes, I still have it with me.” You bent over and inspected the nearest pile of mora, brushing the golden coins with your fingertips. “I don’t wear it much since it restricts my movements, but maybe I will if there’s a special occasion.”

“I would like to see you wear it someday, if you choose to. You’d look absolutely stunning.”

He waited for some witty comeback, the usual jokes you’d make in response to his compliments— but you remained oddly silent, hunched over the little pile of mora like a bird guarding its nest.

“My friend...?”

Gently, he placed a hand on your shoulder, unknowingly sending an electric current running through your veins.

“Ah, yes, yes! I was just, uh—“ Hurriedly, you jumped to your feet and dusted your hands off on your clothes. “I was just trying to remember where my robe was, that’s all. I stored it away but I don’t exactly remember where— you know how it is, right?”

Yes, you had just forgotten where you had last put that phoenix robe, as though you still didn’t clean it and carefully air it out at least once a month. That robe was one of the few things you treasured dearly, as it was a gift from the people you watched over... and perhaps also because it was a gift that matched with his.

The heat rushing to your face and the quickening of your heartbeat upon hearing him say you’d look stunning— that was out of pure embarrassment, nothing more. He only meant it out of kindness, now, don’t misinterpret his words.

Clearing your throat hastily, you tried to change the subject. “Did you know that there’s a full moon tonight?”

“Is there, now?” He tilted his head to the side; a somewhat endearing habit of his, left over from when he had horns. “I have not left this place in quite some time; the people of Liyue are a little too concerned for my safety to let me venture outside often.”

“They haven’t....?”

But Rex Lapis merely smiled in reply, dismissing the matter with a wave of his hand. “It’s only natural for young people to be overprotective of the ones who take care of them. I’m sure they would do the same for you if you just let them, my friend.”

“You sounded very old when you said that, my lord.”

“Pardon?”

“I said your words shone like gold when you said that, my lord.”

He narrowed his eyes skeptically, but you only returned his gaze with a look of pure, angelic innocence. There was no way he could say anything against you, especially not with that look on your face.

“My lord,” You said, with that innocent look still plastered on your face. “Given that you haven’t gone outside in a while, what say you to accompanying one such as myself on an outing this fine evening?”

“An outing, you say?” He put a hand to his chin and pretended to contemplate the idea, silently observing as your eyes lit up with poorly-hidden anticipation. “Where would one go at this hour? It would cause quite a stir if Rex Lapis were to suddenly disappear from his position, with no reasonable explanation.”

To that you raised a finger upwards in reply, pointing to the cavernous roof of the Golden House.

“Technically, you wouldn’t be leaving.” Holding out your hand to him, you smiled and said, “Shall we watch the stars together, then?”

———

“This is incredibly reckless.”

“It’s also incredibly exciting, don’t you think?”

Barely-suppressed laughter bubbled up into your throat as you looked at the great Rex Lapis, who had awkwardly bunched up his robes around his knees. There was no way he could climb to the top of the roof without either damaging his (very costly, one-of-a-kind) robe, or getting him tangled into a mummy wrapping of fine silk.

“Your laughter does not go unnoticed, by the way.” He said, glowing amber eyes trained on the vast ascent of roof tiles before him. “Since this was your idea, how about you think of a solution to this problem?”

The cool night breeze whistled in your ears like a distant flute, and he shivered slightly; it was best to think of a solution quickly, lest Liyue be in uproar over the dignified Rex Lapis catching a mere cold.

You squinted at the rooftop, trying to analyse the best way to scale it with as little collateral damage to your superior as possible. It was certainly possible, especially with your talents as an adeptus (and also because your position did not require such cumbersome clothing), but there would have to be some rather... unusual measures taken.

“Do you trust me?”

He blinked in confusion. “What strange sort of question is—“

Before he could finish, you lifted him off the ground as though you were carrying a princess.

“Hold on tight, my lord.” You whispered, your lips only a few breaths away from his ear. “It may be a little bit unstable.”

He barely had time to wrap his arms around your neck as you leapt into the air, nimbly bounding off the golden tiles like a deer.

What exactly was this situation he was in? Moreover, what was this odd sensation swelling in his heart?

“Mind your sleeves, Rex- I mean, my lord!” You huffed. “I can’t see where I’m stepping if you decide to obscure my sight, which isn’t exactly the best choice for you right now.”

With one final jump, you landed safely on the topmost roof of the Golden House. He could only stare at you blankly as he tried to process what had just happened in the past few minutes— however, you caught onto his stare too easily.

“What, are you surprised that I was able to pull that off?” Shaking your head vigorously to remove the flyaway hair from your eyes, you frowned at him in a jesting manner. “Don’t tell me you’ve been underestimating my abilities this whole time, my lord.”

“No.” He replied immediately. “I would never.”

“That’s what I thought.” With a nod of satisfaction, you gently set him down onto the roof. “Here is the moon and stars for you, as promised.”

Rex Lapis raised his eyes to the sky that he had not seen in some time, and the heavens did not disappoint.

Overhead, the galaxy stretched out in a rich tapestry of hues, stars interwoven in between the threads like beads of precious stones. A full moon hung in the sky, a pearl of great price that took all the beauty that surrounded it and unified it into a beautiful symphony of colours.

For the first time in a while, he felt free— up here with you by his side, there were no such things as duty and responsibility. There were only the two of you in this quiet, peaceful place, with the heavens above as your only witness.

“A lovely night, don’t you think?” You grinned and put your hands on your hips, the wind toying with your hair ever so slightly. “The minute I saw this, I knew you simply couldn’t miss it; not in a thousand years.”

His gaze lingered on the picture of you bathed in a soft halo of moonlight, smiling dreamily at the stars above. “...Very lovely, indeed.”

“Oh, I almost forgot!” Jolting suddenly, you fumbled as you brought out a brass bottle and a pair of teacups from seemingly thin air. “I figured it would be cold out, so I prepared something, just in case.” You gestured for him to sit. “Have a seat while you’re waiting— can’t have the ruler of Liyue standing around waiting for me to serve him, can I?”

“Your judgement is as impeccable as ever, my friend. Whatever would I do without you?”

You rolled your eyes as you began to unscrew the cap of the bottle. “Such flattery is unnecessary. We both know that you could manage Liyue just as well if you were on your own.”

“That doesn’t mean I would want to.” He hesitated, unsure if what he would say next would make you uneasy. “You have done more for me and for Liyue than you could possibly imagine, and I... I sincerely wish for you to know that. You have just as an important role in Liyue as I do, and this place would not be what it is today without you.”

Pausing in what you were doing, you slowly raised your eyes to meet his— there was nothing but pure sincerity in his eyes and words. He truly meant what he was saying, and the way he worded it made your heart- no, no, this wasn’t the time for that.

“...Thank you, Rex Lapis. Those words mean a lot to me, especially coming from you.”

“Do my ears deceive me?” He put a hand to his mouth in mock disbelief. “Say that once more, my friend, I do not think I heard you well the first time.”

“No, I don’t think I will.” You glared at him. “It seems that your age is showing, my lord. Perhaps I should carry you back inside, if your age has really advanced so rapidly.“

“You called me Rex Lapis, for once. This is a day that this aged man shall remember for the rest of his life, and shall be inscribed into the history of Liyue as a momentous occasion—“

“The tea will grow cold long before your long-winded speech finishes, my lord. How about you drink first and talk later?”

Rex Lapis gave you an unimpressed stare. “Perhaps if you cease calling me ‘my lord’, I will think the matter over. When did you learn to brew tea, by the way?”

You returned his stare with one equally matched in unimpressed energy. “Over the years, I’ve found that the art of tea-brewing helped greatly in calming myself, and so I’ve been practicing ever since. Your cup, please— my lord.”

He rolled his eyes at your smug face and held out his cup.

A faint wisp of steam curled from the bottle as the dark liquid trickled into his teacup, along with some unknown plant matter. His thoughts must’ve shown clearly upon his face, for you burst out laughing upon seeing it. “It’s not poison, for Celestia’s sake! If I were planning to assassinate you, I would’ve done it eons ago.”

“And how is that meant to bring me any reassurance?”

“Oh, it wasn’t intended to.” You poured a cup for yourself and downed a sip of your concoction. “But no assassin would be fool enough to drink the poison intended for their target... except for me, possibly. Drink up!”

Rex Lapis still eyed the teacup in his hands suspiciously— but then again, you had never given any reason for him to doubt you, so why should he start now?

“So, is it good?”

He closed his eyes for a moment, savoring the unique flavours on his tongue. “If I could, I would drink the tea you make everyday for the rest of eternity.”

Your heart skipped a beat at his words; you choked, nearly sending the bottle of tea tumbling off of the roof. “Ah- er, well—“

“What, is that too humble of praise for it? I mean it from the bottom of my heart.”

“No, it’s just- well, it sounds like a phrase I’ve heard among the merchants of Inazuma— oh, never mind. I’m glad you like it.”

“What did you put in it to make it taste so exquisite?”

Leaning closer to him, you whispered, “Petals of peach blossom and glaze lily flowers. Along with some other choice ingredients, but what truly gives it that taste and aroma is the flowers.”

Your face was close, closer than he ever even dreamed to approach in a million years; in the pale moonlight, your eyes glittered brighter than any jewel the earth could give. Any dragon would covet such a treasure and guard it with their very life.

How had he not noticed how mesmerizing your eyes were till tonight?

“Absolutely fascinating,” He murmured, before belatedly realizing he said it aloud.

“Isn’t it?” You hummed in agreement. “It’s my special brew. I experimented on it until I could perfectly balance the flavours to my liking.” Your gaze swiveled to the elaborate water gardens sprawled in front of the Golden House. “Do you want me to plant a peach tree and some glaze lilies by the front of the gate? I could do that, if you really do enjoy my tea that much.”

A mix of relief and disappointment washed over him; you hadn’t realised he wasn’t talking about the flowers.

He mused over the idea— it didn’t seem so bad, after all, but...

“I’d like to plant them somewhere more.... permanent. Somewhere we can watch them grow together.”

“Say the word, and your wish is my command.” You beamed at him. “Just tell me when and where, and I’ll have them in full bloom for you in no time, no matter the season.”

A warm, fluttering feeling filled his chest, and Rex Lapis suddenly found it harder to breathe than before. His face felt oddly warm, while his hands were cold— was it a result of the night air? He wasn’t that old yet.

Anxious to change the topic before you cracked another joke about his age, he quickly asked, “How are the affairs of Liyue doing, my friend?”

You shrugged nonchalantly. “The trade routes are thriving splendidly. Many merchants from the other regions come to seek permission to transport goods to and from their lands, so I’ve been handling most of their affairs. Even picked up some of their languages while at it.” A mischievous smile spread across your face as you said, “Tu ne me comprends pas, non? Je t’aimerai pour toujours et à jamais, mon amour.”

“Impressive.” He hadn’t understood a word of what you had said, but he was almost dead certain that you were poking fun at him. “It is good to see that Liyue is in such capable hands. What about the—“

“—the adepti? Oh, they’re all doing quite well, I believe. They don’t really leave their abodes anymore, save for Madame Ping and young Ganyu.”

“How about—“

“Xiao? I visit him every now and then, to make sure he eats well and is doing alright. And yes, I bring him the painkillers you have specially made for him.” You paused. “He sends his greetings, and it is very obvious that that boy misses you, even if he won’t admit it himself.”

Rex Lapis breathed a sigh of relief and smiled. “You really do know what I’m going to say, even before I say it.”

“What can I say? Even before you need to ask, you can consider it already done.” A chuckle escaped your lips as you scuffed the sole of your shoe against the roof tiles. “That’s why I’m here, after all. Who better than I to carry out the word of Rex Lapis?”

“You had best watch yourself there, my friend, lest your head grows too big for your shoulders.”

“Oh, but my lord, who was the one who gave me this position?” Propping your chin on your steepled fingers, you give him a smug look. “I seem to recall a certain someone appointing me as his right-hand, after all.”

“What has been given can just as swiftly be taken away.”

“You’re no fun.” You stuck your tongue out at him and turned away, pointedly staring at the moon.

“So, what is the real reason you brought me up here?”

In an instant your head whipped back to meet his gaze, eyes wide and mouth agape. “How did you—“

The corner of his mouth quirked up in a lopsided grin, and now it was his turn to look smug. “You’re not the only one who can practically read minds, my friend. The facade you put up is better crafted than mine, but I can still see right through you.”

“Well...” You fell silent for a moment, fingers tracing along the sides of the brass bottle and etching invisible patterns into the metal with your fingernails. “I wanted to ask how you were doing.”

Rex Lapis tilted his head slightly, confusion and curiosity melding into one feeling. “How I was doing?”

“I struggle sometimes... with the memories of those who have passed on. Sometimes, in the heat of the moment I forget; I get distracted or actually feel happy, but then I suddenly think of them, and I wonder if I actually have the right to enjoy myself.”

Shifting slightly, your expression was unreadable in the pale moonlight. “But lately, their faces have become blurry, and I get scared when I can’t remember what they look like. It’s the least I can do for my comrades, since I’m the only one left.” You pursed your lips. “Do you have the same problem?”

The somber look on your face stirred up the remorse that still gnawed at his heart, even after all these centuries. You had been suffering alone because of his mistakes, and it pained Rex Lapis even more knowing that no contract he wrote could remedy the empty gap in your heart. All he could do was sit with you and be something you could anchor yourself to, just the way you had been a steadfast rock to him.

He shifted to sit closer to you, no longer caring whether his robes would be dirtied or not. “Not quite the same problem.”

“...Oh.”

“Like you, even after so many years I still cannot help but think of them. Every detail of their lives, their voices and faces— I remember it all.” Rex Lapis looked up to the stars, where perhaps the constellations of your friends lay, and laughed dryly. “Mortal men have been blessed with forgetfulness, but it seems that I have been cursed to remember.”

Tentatively, he raised a hand to gently pat you on the head, just the way his caregiver used to when he was feeling out of sorts or upset. “But worry not, my friend. If what you worry about is forgetting, then I will be the one to remember everything for you.”

“You needn’t worry about me forgetting you, by the way.” You said quietly. “Even if I forget everything else in this world, I know that I’ll always remember you, no matter what form you take.”

The strange, fluttering feeling in his chest returned, coursing through his veins and flowing through his fingertips— subconsciously he pulled his hand away, fearing that those feelings would somehow reach you.

It’s merely the chill of the night air, he told himself.

You said nothing as he pulled away, but Rex Lapis found himself wishing you would say something, anything; complain, or make a joke out of it, or perhaps even ask him to do it again— no, he couldn’t dare dream of that.

Not for your sake.

“The moon is beautiful, isn’t it?” You said suddenly, breaking the silence and the maze of thoughts his mind was trapped in.

Rex Lapis looked to the moon over Liyue Harbor, admiring the way it bathed the city in silver light. Though Liyue in the daytime was loud, filled with many colours and sounds that overwhelmed the senses, this version of Liyue was also beautiful to behold.

Perhaps... perhaps this is what she meant by living treasure, he thought to himself.

Caring for this city of people, nurturing them and building a better future for them and the future generations— that was certainly something close to his heart. It didn’t feel exactly like the living treasure he had expected, but as long as you were there to watch over Liyue with him, then perhaps... perhaps it would grow on him as time passed.

“Yes,” he agreed. “It truly is.”

But that evening, he failed to notice that you weren’t looking at the moon.

[cher-writes]

Playground Love | Klaus Hargreeves X Reader (16+)

A/N: I've always felt like Klaus had a lot of selfish lovers at some point in his life. People who didn't really love him but his masochistic tendencies made him go back to them time and time again. This one-shot is kinda on the perspective of such a lover. Hopefully you'll enjoy.

Word count: 1.3k

CW: Insinuation of Self-harm, Suicide attempts, Substance use and Sex.

Art work by: @meamme1 , Thank you so much for letting me use your gorgeous piece!

Follow the artist's insta here (or search @meamme1 on insta).

Special thanks to my beautiful friend @crisis-of-joy for being my benevolent editor.

~Yet my hands are shaking

I feel my body remain,

Time's no matter, I'm on fire

On the playground, love~

It was hard to love Klaus. But you didn’t really love him, did you?

Let’s not discount your efforts. You tried at first; perfunctory, desultory, trivial tries. And maybe you did love him, in some of those moments when he blew cigarette smoke into your open mouth in the early hours of a July hell, or when he ardently kissed your cold feet warm in the late hours of a November void.

How could you not have loved him when he cleaned the vomit, spit and snot off your face with his bare hands after you drank a bit too much, not being able to bear the sheer helplessness of January rain?

When you took him in your tart mouth after days of him sweating and trembling for some humanly unknowable reason, under the window sill as the April dusk soaked through the lifeless buildings, how could he not have loved you too?

Maybe that’s what love is, those fleeting, inconsequential moments. But deep down you both knew that there was no love between the two of you. Those moments only stuck like leaves on a tree baring itself for the fast approaching winter.

You knew, and you pretended he did too.

He came and went as he pleased, habitually whimsical. Always looking a bit different than the time before, or as much as you could care to remember. His face faded from your memory every time he left. You let him ‘cause there was no reason for you to keep him on a leash.

You two weren’t close like that.

He talked. He told you all kinds of things about himself, most of which you didn’t listen to and the parts that you did, you don’t remember. Maybe that’s why he talked to you so much, he sensed your absence.

Although you were merciful to him, never really telling him anything substantial about yourself. You didn’t need to, there was no reason to.

You two weren’t close like that.

But he knew you liked his warm hands on your hips under the blanket following a cup of hot chocolate.

You don’t really remember how you met him. It’s as if he existed in your life since the beginning of cruel time but that wasn’t the case. You can clearly remember a time before him but exactly when he appeared out of thin air, you didn’t bother to keep track of.

Then why was that, you wondered, as his tongue set fire to your loin on miserable festive evenings, you let him in your life?

Then why was that, you tried to remember, as his throat pulsed under your crude grip on hollow autumn daybreaks, you let him in yourself?

Then why was that, you furrowed your brows contemplating as his hot, panting body pressed you against the wall on doleful Friday nights, you let him stick around?

It wasn’t love, that much you knew. It wasn’t kindness either, there was no rationale for you to be kind to him. And you were beyond the capabilities to conjure pity. Then why?

As he licked the disgusting maple syrup from the side of your mouth on one unbearable Tuesday morning, it occurred to you; about the invisible and invincible ties of the universe which bestowed his company onto you. Some intangible force, some abstract fate, some obscure theory about the atoms made it so that he had to exist in your vicinity every now and then, and you didn’t have it in you to defy God.

You couldn’t defy God, but you did defy compassion on multiple occasions.

Some nights when he couldn’t close those green, exhausted eyes of his with all the strength in his supernatural world, or on the afternoons when he clutched those absurd dog-tags round his neck lying on the cold bathroom floor, you defied all of your theoretical humanity as you simply just looked away. You never knew why he did what he did. He told you, maybe, but you don’t know that either.

His existence didn’t make sense to you, it was as if a glitch in the logic behind the cosmic mechanics.

It wasn't about what he was, you weren’t oblivious to his paranormal origin. You wouldn’t say it was about who he was either.

In all honesty, you didn’t really know who he was...is. Everytime he came around he’d become a different “who.”

Rather it was the very normal about him that sent you thinking in circles. It was the very normal about him that you couldn’t align with logic, you couldn’t put in perspective.

And he warped your perception when he bit your earlobe. He toyed with your logic when he let your fingers dig a bit too deep in his flesh. He loved playing Guns N’ Roses when he put his head on your lap, and maybe he loved you too, it was impossible for you to know that, implausible for you to try.

Though there was one thing that you knew about him with indubitable certainty, he wasn't afraid of death. You’d even go on to say he had a rare fascination towards it, the type of fascination star-crossed lovers seem to have. You knew that ‘cause you saw it. He tried and tired and you stood, looking over, as his sole, soul-less witness.

He never succeeded and at times, it felt to you as if even God hated him. What kind of God doesn't grant His creation even the least bit of relief? So you played God, helping him crush his violet pills when he couldn't get up.

So you played God, letting him bleed on your kitchen counter as long as he cleaned up after himself and discarded the razor blades safely.

He’d sway in your balcony afterwards, dance to some music only the doomed could hear. He’d smile affectionately at you when he caught you looking at him through your half-asleep eyes.

“Mein egoistischer Liebhaber,” he whispered once in your ears while uncut blissful rapture fell upon you, while you pathetically crumbled under him. You didn’t know what he meant, whether it even was something or just his fervid groans taking the shape of foreign words for the amusement of the same God.

Yet those words, you recall their sound, clear as an azure lake, distinct as his emerald irises.

Their meaning didn’t ignite curiosity in you, you still don’t know what they mean. Just the way he said them felt familiar to you. And for that reason alone, you remembered them.

You remembered them every time he looked into your eyes with his dilated pupils after you denied him entry to your apartment in the dead of the night because someone else’s naked body laid across your battered bed.

“I'll crash on the couch, please...”

“No.”

“I won't disturb anyone, I promise!”

“I said no.”

But you let him in tonight, and he’s talking about something, lying beside you as your phone lets you know it’s 4am.

He’s talking about something incoherent again; some apocalypse, some catastrophe, all equally meaningless to you. He talks and talks and let’s you know, finally after a long painful soliloquy, that he has to go away again and maybe this time, he won’t return. You understood that part only, the rest brushes off your skin like mere carpet dust.

Does it bother you? You can’t tell. He says he wants to be loved tonight, very well then.

You give him what he wants. You kiss him on his parched mouth, you take him in like you’re parched of him. His honeydew skin dissolves on your tongue, his fingers wander on your bitter body with endless love. Love...what was that again?

You let him come inside of you. Let a part of him linger in you just for a bit. He kisses you on the temple. You could feel him quivering, holding onto you, tight enough to leave bruises.

He says he’ll miss you.

He asks you to turn around, face him while falling asleep.

And you shouldn’t cry but you are.

It is hard to love Klaus. And you don’t really love him...do you?

[jokertrap-ran]

(光与夜之恋 Light and Night) Main Story Chapter 2-15: 时间针脚 The Patchwork of Time Translation

“Come on then, Miss Direction Blind. I'll be the one to give you the directions now.”

*Light and Night Master-list *Spoiler free: Translations will remain under cut *Join the Light & Night Discord (＾▽＾)~ ♪ *Main story tag will be #For Light and Night

After a week of working at Warson, I’d technically adapted to how things went about here. Zheng Lin had also arranged my first solo gig.

Zheng Lin: The design hub has a mentor system set in place.

Zheng Lin: So, all Assistants and Junior Designers will have a mentor assigned to them.

Zheng Lin: Of course, it is not up to you to choose, but your future mentor.

Zheng Lin: Every Senior Designer, including Director Qi, will participate in this program as a mentor.

MC: Director Qi too?

Zheng Lin: Correct. The selection criteria will be the results of your first independent work.

Zheng Lin: It might be solo work, but you can always approach me if you run into something you don't understand.

Zheng Lin: And also, I'll get Brother Mao to help you out, considering how you've only just arrived here and have yet to familiarize yourself with this place.

Zheng Lin: Of course, his aid doesn't include helping you out with your design.

Zheng Lin: In any case, just make sure to do this job well because the results of this will determine who your future mentor will be. Understand?

I understood what she was getting at. Mentors would greatly influence and affect the growth of a rookie. One will be able to learn much more when paired with an experienced mentor who shares the same aesthetic sense.

Although the deadline is still a long time from now, I want to become the best mentee choice to ever face Sariel.

The job this time was to create a dress for Lin Yao, the new up and coming actress, for her award ceremony.

❖☆———————————★❖

She was a child actress who'd recently risen to fame when the popularity of the young idol teen drama she starred in half a year ago exploded. Due to her cold countenance, she was dubbed by the media as the "Nation's Fairy Nymph" 

This time, the local crime movie she'd starred as the lead for had received a double harvest at the word-of-mouth box office. It has also been nominated as one of the most popular movies and the movie with the best female lead among many others.

This movie was about a talented dancing genius who secretly plotted the murder of her abusive stepmother for many, many years. This caused the creation of a second personality within her; the murder happened then. At the end of the film, she danced in the pure white snow beside the dead body of her stepmother. Something that she'd only ever dreamt about. And there, etched upon her face, was the first smile of her life.

❖☆———————————★❖

MC: Her performance is way too good! I can't even tell that it's an act...

After watching some of her award-winning works interviews, I finally managed to get some semblance of understanding about Lin Yao.

She was someone of few words, a polite and obedient kid who never once had a single bad article to her name. She was forever smiling in front of the cameras. She was hardworking and responsible when it came to her work, and has had a smooth journey ever since her debut. It was the very epitome of what a perfect life was; one that everybody admired.

MC: A traditional fairy dress would be too conservative. Although that'd be very in line with her image, it'll merely be the same thing all over again. That wouldn't make her stand out on the red carpet.

MC: I can't help but feel like she's not all as inwardly peaceful as she appears on the outside. Perhaps she's fiercer or more sensitive deep down...

I didn't know how I could express this mismatch in her persona.

Perhaps it was those eyes of hatred of hers that shot daggers in the movie, or maybe that one sliver of vulnerability that she let slip in her interviews every once in a while. Those factors made it hard for me to decide just what kind of style I should go with her dress.

MC: And I also feel like digging deeper to uncover the other more charming side of her that no one knows...

The genius young maiden of the nation. A turbulent era of change. Self-redemption and self-destruction. All of these factors were only impactful when combined together with the era it was set in. It was only then, that everything felt fated to be.

MC: What if I added these elements to the dress?

I closed my eyes and imagined it in my head. A black feather dress inspired by the nation slowly formed in my mind's eye.

MC: I know!

Brother Mao: Heavens! You gave me a scare right there!

That was when I realized that I'd quite literally leapt out of my seat in my excitement. I gave an embarrassed laugh.

MC: Brother Mao, I'm going to go out and do some fieldwork to get some inspiration!

❖☆———————————★❖

If I were to find things related to the nation, then the museum would be the most appropriate choice.

Back when I was little, I'd always be left in the care of my mother's ex-partner when neither she nor my grandmother had the time to take care of me. He was responsible for managing this museum that could be called my second home of sorts.

MC: But, why does it look different from how I remember…?

The place had been renovated during the long period of time I hadn't been to it. All the exhibition halls had changed locations.

I followed the signs towards the hall where all the local things were displayed, only for my attention to be caught by a familiar figure.

Dressed entirely in black, said person had his arm behind his back as he stood motionless in front of the collections before him.

His straight posture made him look like a tall, yet silent, statue from afar. Under the lights of the spotlight, a faint silvery-white halo surrounded him. I could even see the small particles of dust floating in the air amidst the light. It made him look stand-offish and sharp.

I couldn't stop myself from raising my camera and snapping a shot. 

Click! 

The man noticed; immediately whipping his head around.

MC: ...Osborn!?

Surprised, I retreated a step; only to realize that my hands were now empty. Osborn had snatched my camera from me.

Osborn: Watcha hiding?

He cocked his head to look at the camera, the corners of his mouth upturning into an arc.

Osborn: You're sneakily taking shots of me? Let's see how they turned out.

MC: Return it back to me first!

Osborn purposely lifted the camera higher out of my reach.

Osborn: Why are you so frantic? It's not like I mind or anything.

MC: I still have things to do! Hurry and give it back already!

Osborn: What did you come here for?

MC: Photos. I came here looking for inspiration.

Osborn nodded, turning and walking away with my camera in hand.

Osborn: Weren't you here for pictures? Come on, let's go.

Does he want to accompany me?

I hurriedly chased after him and held out the guidebook for him to take. However, he'd only waved his hand in dismissal and signalled for me to follow behind him.

He led me around the museum as if he knew the place like the back of his hand. All I had to do was to name the exhibit and he'd be able to find it immediately.

His sense of direction is incredible. What is he? A human-sized GPS?

MC: Do you come here often, Osborn?

Osborn: It's my first time here.

MC: …..

Osborn let out two short laughs as he crooked his head and contemplated me.

Osborn: And how many times have you been here?

MC: I've come here a couple of times in the past, I guess. I'm not very familiar with this place. Ahem...

??: (Y/n)! Is it really you? You've come back to the country?

The curator uncle that I'd not seen in a long time suddenly comes round from a corner. He looked astonished to see me here.

Mr. Curator: You've grown into a splendid young woman in the years I've not seen you. It's great to see you back! Come by my place for dinner when you're free!

Mr. Curator: Oh, yes. Should I get you a guide? I remember that you got lost here once.

MC: No need! My friend here has a superb sense of direction!

My face heated up as I hurriedly pointed to Osborn. He didn't say anything more, only laughing as he nodded to Osborn before leaving.

Brilliant. I originally intended to keep the fact that I was directionally challenged under wraps when around Osborn, but now… He's gonna make fun of me again.

MC: Right, but I'm still pretty good at reading maps…

In the end, Osborn couldn't hold back his laughter and ended up laughing till his shoulders were shaking. He took hold of my arm in one swift motion and started walking forward.

Osborn: Come on then, Miss Direction Blind.

Osborn: I'll be the one to give you the directions now.

Somehow, I vaguely felt my heart skip a beat at that.

MC: I want to go to the national exhibit…

❖☆———————————★❖

The national exhibit had now been renovated and refurbished retro-style. All the new collections exhibited here now turned out to be clothing and accessories. 

Looks like I made the right choice in coming here.

Osborn: Want do you wanna snap?

MC: That one. The brown layered cheongsam patterned through burn-out printing.

MC: The blueish-grey female damask lined jacket!

MC: And that short-sleeved georgette velvet cheongsam that's also patterned through burn-out printing!

I'd virtually snapped a picture of every outfit on display here. The tentative image I originally had in mind seemed to become clearer now.

MC: Okay, that's all.

Osborn kept the camera and glanced at the time.

Osborn: Let's go then.

❖☆———————————★❖

Dusk had already fallen by the time we walked out of the museum. The smell of sundown envelopes us in its serenity, as the breeze carries the fragrance of hyacinths.

Osborn walks up to a black motorcycle and leans on its back seat.

MC: Thank you for today. I didn’t cause you any trouble by hogging you and making you take pictures for me, did I?

Osborn: Sure you did.

MC: …Ah. What are you going to do about it?

Osborn: Then, how about you do a little something to repay me? The bracelet I was looking at earlier; have you seen anything like it before?

The image of Osborn staring seriously at the white-coloured jade cong earlier flashed through my mind.

MC: That’s not a bracelet. It’s a jade cong. They’re used as ritual artefacts in ancient witchcraft or religious sacrifices.

MC: The one you saw earlier was a typical one belonging to the Liangzhu Culture. It’s speculated that it’s used to communicate with gods or the souls trapped in this realm.

Osborn: You know quite a lot.

MC: I used to come here a lot as a kid, and I’d just tail the big sister, the guide, back then when I had nothing better to do. That’s why I remember so many things.

Osborn: Hu? You don't look like an expert at all.

MC: I’m still learning, but they do say that the better your memory, the smoother the sail of your learning curve.

Osborn: Let’s see… Wasn’t there an expert earlier who couldn’t even tell left from right?

MC: I was born with a poor sense of direction! I told you that my map reading skills were still passable!

Osborn: Okay, okay. What’s with the glare? I’m only poking fun at you.

Osborn: My sense of direction is brilliant, so just follow me next time.

MC: ……

MC: Right, but that jade cong earlier was a little odd.

Osborn: Man, the way you change topics needs a little working on.

MC: Do you want to listen, or not?

Osborn: Spill.

MC: I’ve never seen a jade cong from the Liangzhu Culture with the double-headed snake motif carved onto it before.

MC: There exists a sacred double-headed snake motif in Sumerian Culture. It represents Ningishzida, the Lord of the Good Woods.

MC: And in the mythology Ningishzida hails from, the gods used clay to create humans and make the beginnings of the first civilization.

MC: Just like the Fuxi Nuwa from our ancient mythology.

MC: Funny thing is that, coincidentally, the Sumernarian two-headed snake is also very similar to the Fuxi Nuwa.

Osborn unknowingly furrows his brow whilst muttering about something under his breath. However, he quickly returns to his usual playful self.

Osborn: Okay. I've got it.

MC: Why are you interested in something like this?

MC: I remember that the bracelet you showed me up on the roof that day had the same motif.

Osborn: Ever heard of this saying?

Osborn made a come hither motion, signalling for me to get closer to him.

Osborn: The more secrets you know, the more you'll be...

He did a cutthroat gesture whilst smirking at me.

MC: Do I look like I care?

Osborn: It has something to do with someone I'm looking for. I'll tell you next time if I get the chance.

MC: Hmm…

Osborn: But, no telling anyone about what happened today.

MC: Okay. Now gimme the camera.

Osborn: I helped you and yet not even a single "thank you" from you?

Osborn leaned further backwards, purposefully dodging my hand that went straight for the camera, a devilish look on his face.

MC: Thank you!

Osborn: Now stick your hand out.

A small lemon candy was placed into my outstretched palm alongside the camera.

Osborn: Where are you headed? I'll send you.

He flipped himself onto his bike, surveying the congested road up ahead.

MC: I can't possibly bother you like that...

I waved my hand and turned his offer down out of habit, yet inwardly, I was silently pondering about just how I was to get onto that tall bike of his.

However, just as I was about to step onto it and swing myself onto the seat, the engine gave a resounding roar as said motorbike speeded away from me.

Only a single line hung in the air in his wake: "Bye!"

MC: Hey! I was just being nice! It wouldn't hurt to have asked me again...

❖☆————— ⊹ For Light & Night⊹ —————★❖

Previous Part: (Chapter 2-13) | Next Part: (Chapter 2-18)

[just2bubbly]

Kidnapped?

Masterlist

Summary

"Goodness, where are we?"

"How am I suppose to know?"

"It's your palace. You live here, not to mention you have a computer in your brain to figure out. Any more reasons?"

What happens when you get kidnapped in your own palace? Bizarre!

More bizarre if you happen to know the kidnapper.

Ship: Kaider

Words: 2.8k

__

Cinder's Perspective-

"Goodness, where are we?" Kai questioned, his voice a bit higher than usual showing his panic.

"How am I suppose to know?" she retorted, her eyes trying to adjust to the pitch-black darkness around her.

"It's your palace. You live here, not to mention you have a computer in your brain to figure out. Any more reasons?" he cited.

"Yeah," she said dryly. 'Why did being near Kai rob her of her senses?!' her mind seemed to ask herself.

"I don't know," she stated after having done her best at trying to locate their position.

"What?"

"I have no idea where we are!- This place is off the records," she said explaining their situation.

"Are we kidnapped?" he proposed.

"Why would someone do that?"

"We are very important people. You are the Queen of Luna. I am the Emperor of the Eastern Commonwealth. The question is why would they not?" he said, matter-of-factly.

"We have been at peace for over a year with Earth. The Lunars have taken a liking to the new way of life. I don't think they would kidnap us," she tried to argue- nonetheless, her mind convinced her to believe that they were kidnapped.

What better reason to come up with other than kidnapping when one finds themselves in a dark chamber?!

"Then we are trapped," he suggested as she had discarded his previous sensible idea of being kidnapped.

"Probably" She stayed silent unable to think about any sane reason to be stuck in a dark room.

"We are stuck," he announced to which she nodded for having nothing else to say.

"Are you sure this place wherever that is- is in the Palace?"

"I guess so- minutes ago we were walking near The Throne Room. We have to be in the Palace, unless-"

"Unless we were knocked out and don't remember anything about it," Kai completed.

"I don't think we were knocked out," she commented.

"And why would that be?"

"My brain did not signify anything about 'System Reboot'- besides I don't think anyone of us remembers about waking up!" she explained her line of reasoning.

"Uh- okay!"

"Do you have your device?" she inquired, her brain seemed to have dawned upon the bright idea of contacting one of her friends.

"No, it's my room- I left it behind. What about yours?"

"Iko wanted it for something," she said, losing hope of seeking any sort of help.

"Do you think we are kept as hostages?" she speculated aloud.

"I am not sure. The last time I was kidnapped it made more sense," he said, using sarcasm at a time where it was least expected.

"Yeah and I was the kidnapper," she said dryly.

As her survival instinct kicked in, she examined the room and it did not look like it was a prison cell. It had no way to escape, neither a window nor a door. She wondered how they had ever entered it.

Kai sighed and sat, his back against the wall- pulling the black-tie that he was wearing loose and opening the collar button of his dress shirt.

"What are you doing?" she questioned, trying to keep her voice distinct.

"Making myself comfortable. I barely have the energy to remain standing for another minute," he confessed, as he rubbed the sole of his palm into his eyes.

"Are you okay?" she queried, suddenly very conscious about checking his health.

"I don't know, I'm tired and haven't had a good night's sleep in weeks. Moreover, this dark room is not really helping my case!" he conceded.

She thought of how she had not noticed his fatigue since he had landed on Luna. He really did his best at hiding his weariness from the onlooker.

"Are you going to stand there all this time?" he demanded, making her come sit beside him. They sat in silence not sure about where to start the conversation from. However, the silence felt comfortable, almost serene if not for their setting.

"I feel like we are trapped here," he proclaimed after what felt like a sufficient amount of time had been spent in silence.

"Thank you for the observation Kai, I thought we were having a party here," she added, her every word strong with sarcasm

"Oh really!" he exclaimed with fake disbelief. They stared at each other challengingly- none of them ready to back down until they recalled their scenario. Kai looked away making sure to groan in frustration. Always the responsible one.

"I mean- I don't think we are kidnapped or taken hostages-"

"Enlighten me then why we are here?" she snorted failing to understand him.

He glared but elaborated, "I guess we lost our way and are just trapped in some room which happens to be off records."

"Why do you think that?"

"Well, why would they kidnap two people madly in love with each other?"

"What does loving each other have anything to do with kidnapping?" she asked incredulously.

"Come on Cinder if you were kidnapped won't I be drastic to find you and vice versa- we are stuck together-"

"Kai, although I appreciate the gesture of you being desperate to find me in case I was kidnapped, you have watched too many romcoms and sitcoms. Whatever your line of reasoning is, it suits some drama better than the condition we are caught in." she tried her best to explain this to him without trying to chuckle at his dorkiness.

"Besides, how do you even get time to watch dramas?" she asked, trying to figure out how Kai had free time when she seemed to be drowning in paperwork all the time.

"I have a day off just to watch romcoms," he said with so much conviction she believed him there.

"Really? You are allowed such privileges?" Now he really had her attention- an entire day off! Cinder had had to work on Christmas as well.

"No just kidding," he interrupted before she could ask any more questions. She looked at him shocked and muttered something under her breath that made his lips quirk up.

"Kai, besides there are other people to be worried about you. I hope they don't think the Emperor of Eastern Commonwealth got kidnapped on Luna."

"Cinder, they won't think Lunars kidnapped me or you for that matters," he said trying to assure her.

"You never know! The look that Prime Minister Bromstad was shooting my way, makes me believe he wanted something like this to happen to question my moralities!" She huffed in frustration as she failed to keep her nerves in check.

"Do you think they would have started searching for us?"

"They better be- Thorne would definitely notice me when he does not find someone to annoy," She joked trying to calm herself down while trying to think about good reasons to explain this situation.  Apparently, 'lost in my own palace' was not the best option she had.

She thought about how she was going to justify her and Kai's absence in today's meeting- but that was really not the worse part. The graver part of their absence would be the murmurs that would go around among the world leaders as she and Kai would enter the conference hall-provided if they ever left this forsaken place. Not to mention the rumours that would question her among her own court, once all the leaders would return back.

Words stopped coming out of her lips unable to keep the conversation going, as her mind tried to grasp the after-effects of this activity.

They had been together under the same roof after a year and all they had to said to each other were formal pleasantries. They had been in the presence of each other for the last 9 hours 27 minutes (let's not address the seconds) and their words had have been nothing but distant. Seldom they went about their duties using satire to converse better except it felt a bit too awkward to be normal and considered casual.

Although Cinder had talked with him on comms numerous times, meeting him in person after a year felt different!

Whoever said long-distance was hard-was very very correct!

Cinder had run so many scenarios of her greeting Kai for over a week- thinking about all that she would have to say in the limited period of 3 days. Alas, reality had been very disturbing. She had very stupidly stumbled over her words in an undignified manner over the sight of him. Thank goodness and all the stars for she had not blurted something more idiotic unfit for the Queen of Luna. When their gazes had met, she was going crazy by just thinking about him and now as if fate was rewarding her for her own stupidity-she had no idea what to say to him stuck in a room alone. Uh!

"I missed you," he blurted out of the blue. It was so unexpected, she contemplated if he had said that just to fill the infinite void of silence between them.

"You missed me?" she challenged, knowing very well that it was not the best thing to say. The appropriate answer would be ' I missed you too." Cinder was never the one to be following rules- hell, she had worn trousers suited with a dress shirt to her own birthday party instead of the classical ball gown she was supposed to.

Even if she would not admit it loudly, she felt happy hearing those words -never having the joy of hearing them from anyone else.

It was the first time someone had said those very said those words aloud to her. Iko never had a chance to miss her as she was constantly with her. She had known Kai and the others for over a year only throughout which the idea of rebellion and their unforeseen, sudden deaths was constantly looming over them -so words of missing each other had never been vocal.

She had a chance of saying 'Miss you' to Peony uncountable times but even then that had never happened. Cinder had never gone very far away to be missed by anyone. Until now.

He nodded and she cursed the darkness wondering if Kai's ears had turned pink.

"Is that so hard to believe?" he asked, failing to keep the concern out of his voice.

"No," she muttered and softly added, "I missed you. Beyond your wits and imagination-"

Unsure if had heard it or not but as she felt him take her hand and move closer to her ear she knew he had heard her. His lips were at her ears and the sudden contact made her shiver in excitement.

"I can imagine- you know having experience with- missing your aunt and all. "

She knew it without being able to see that he was smirking- without caring about how rushed, reckless and rash her actions were - her lips were on his and as if he had anticipated such a response out of her, he was kissing her back without a moment to lose. It felt good to have him near her- just moving her hand through his dark black hair while he held onto her other hand- her cybernetic one. It was not much of symbolism but she felt assured that he wanted her- whole- with her cybernetics, just like she wanted him. It had been mere seconds since their lips but she was already out of breath. Her lungs were burning from the want of oxygen just like her heart that had gone warm with desire.

She moved back to breathe yet she was just millimetres away from him- their foreheads touching. Their eyes locked and the next second they were doubling over with laughter-vibrant and clear.

The kiss was brief yet sweet filled with assurance and hope but it felt like it had broken all spells of awkwardness between the two. This moment was so full of love and happiness, that she wanted to bottle it up and drink from it again and again once Kai would be gone. Her worries were forgotten for a while, as she took in his lean frame, his long hair that fell over the copper-brown eyes that looked like they were looking through her soul as if she was some sort of art.

"I missed you," she whispered in the crook of his neck meaning each word.

"Me too!"

She inhaled his scent- closing her eyes as she took in the exhilarating smell of cedar and sharp mint.

"Cinder?"

"Kai," she whispered back.

"Look," he told.

'Hmmm"

"We are no longer inside the room"

"What?" she said her eyes opening to look around- it was true. She was not in some dark room, she was a few feet away from the Throne Room.

She whirled around not trusting her eyes, "How is this even possible? We were trapped just now and now-"

"You don't sound so happy?"

"What?! I am obviously happy but-"

" Is being trapped with me so bad?"

"Kai! No-"

Realizing he was just playing around with her she huffed and glared at him while he settled for a grin. He was going to be the end of her!

"Kai, Be serious! " she ordered her voice commanding. However, her eyes held no anger only bewilderment.

__

"Oh yeah- I completely forgot. I got caught, more like trapped somewhere near the left of the Throne room. Can you figure it out for me? The place is like some sort of magical room it appeared out of nowhere and it was gone."

"Hmm..sounds interesting!" Iko mumbled, her face full of concentration as her slender fingers tapped on her chin as if thinking deeply.

"Were you alone?" she inquired.

"Ac-actually there was someone else with me." She was not sure if she wanted to share details of her time in a dark room with Iko but convincing herself she admitted, "Well, I was stuck inside with Kai."

As if this piece of information was very vital, her eyes sparkled as they changed their colour to bright, joyous, warm yellow.

"A private place- no disturbance," she said pointedly.

"What?"Cinder asked confused over her remark of 'private place'. The smirk on Iko's pretty face made Cinder suspicious and then it clicked together- like a painting kept inside water becomes clearly visible once the water goes still.

"Uh! Sorry, I was just thinking about a few things-" he said, his eyes glossed up with emotion much similar to wistfulness.

"Are you feeling nostalgic Emperor Kaito?" she proposed, not quite sure about what Kai was remembering.

"Probably yes," he admitted his head turned to look at her among the company of her friends.

"You have memories attached to this place. I can only imagine the young Emperor grieving over the loss of his first wife. I hope your heart has found peace without my aunt around."

"It has been a hard year but I have found solace without dear Levana," he said with such a grieved tone that it was almost convincing if not for his eyes that were twinkling with humour and mirth.

"Let's hope you have a good time in my abode, Emperor."

"That I would surely have," he said with a smirk playing along his very pretty and tempting lips which was followed by a wink.

"I guess we have had enough flirting for the evening. Now if you two would move-"

"Captain why would you disturb them? They look so adorable together" Iko squealed casting a look of love towards her.

"Aces, If they had continued I would have thrown up," Thorne complained earning a glare from everyone around him especially Cinder who was on the verge of strangling him for having disturbed their moment.

"Thorne, they are not being adorable now that you have disturbed them," Iko whined to an amused and proud looking Thorne.

Forgetting the two who had very unapologetically interrupted their exchange, Cinder whispered, "Next time somewhere bit private, unlike my throne room. How about that Emperor?"

He cocked his head and agreed, taking a pause as if pretending to think about it, "Your wish is my command, My Queen."

It made complete sense- the room appearing and disappearing while her schedule was clear, with no one but them on the floor while they were trapped. Later, she was secured after quality time spent with Kai. It was obviously Iko, she should have known.

"Iko," she yelled as her friend slipped away from her chambers.

"You asked for it," she shouted back.

And like perfect timing Kai, walked along. She supposed that this was part of Iko's plan as well.

"What did you ask for?" he asked, coming to stand beside her while she rested her head on his shoulder.

"That room- it was Iko all along!" she offered.

"Apparently it was not just Iko- it was Iko AND Thorne."

Her friend was going to get a hell lot of yelling later but right now Cinder was thankful for what she had done.

___

A/N: Okay, the entire book series has the phrase 'Miss You' said only 4 times. I drift a bit away from canon in this part of the fic because Cinder did say 'miss you' to Peony while she was in quarantine and to Kai while he was leaving for Earth after the revolution. Even he had said those very words to her before Thorne dropped him off to New Beijing.  I just choose to avoid those moments, probably because those words did not carry much meaning in the heat of the revolution. I believe Cinder feels guilty for never having expressed her thoughts of fondness for Peony in the pandemic- type of society that they lived in, where life was not exactly what I would call guaranteed.

And well Angie aka @gingerale2017 - Thank You for the request. I know I took  too much time to revert back to it (I think approximately 4 months) but I did not really find a nice plot until now and I have made a few changes just to align with my ideas- so if you were expecting something different... I'm sorry! It felt wonderful writing this! :)

Thank you again! <33

Be sure to reblog or comment if you like it!

I do take prompts for TLC (ship- Kaider), so if you want to you can hit me up with them!

Taglist: @cinderswrench @gingerale2017 @linhcinder686 @shellyseashell @ladyvesuvia (Tell me if you wanna be added/removed)

[gemmaswriting]

Anidala Fanfiction Recommendations!!

I’ve been asked for a long time for my fanfiction recommendations, so I’ve finally taken the time to compile them. If there are any you love that I missed out (this includes Vaderdala!) leave them as a reply so we can all have a good time reading together. 

Writer: Shelivesfree (fanfiction profile) This wonderful girl has some of the most amazing Anidala stories I have ever had the pleasure of reading. Unfortunately, a lot of them have been hiatus for a while but her Boy Next Door trilogy has two amazing parts completed. 

The stories I recommend: 

“The Boy Next Door”: “When Padme Naberrie returns to her home after 10 years, the last thing she expects to find is her childhood friend, Anakin Skywalker; the boy next door. But 10 years is a long time, and he has changed more than she is prepared for. How will she react when little Ani is now a grown man, impulsive, handsome and completely infatuated with her? Modern AU.”

“The Girl from Harvard”: “Sequel to ‘The Boy Next Door’ Absence makes the heart grow fonder. It also makes it grow more paranoid. Padme is in her last year of Harvard. Anakin has just started at the University of Chicago. Though they won't admit it, their long-distance relationship is taking it's heavy toll. Will their love prevail or will the distance prove too much for both of them? Sequel to The Boy Next Door. Modern AU.”

“look into my eyes, that's where my demons hide”:  ”Each time he comes back to her, a little piece of him is missing... left out there, in the field, with his brothers. She can see it in the way he smiles and it doesn't reach his eyes. In the way he cries to himself when he thinks she's not awake. And all she can do is hold him. Modern AU.”

“I Know Your Type”  “Am I dead?" It slips out, accidentally. She turns her head towards me, a confused look on her face and tips her head. "Excuse me?" Flashing her an impish grin, I lean casually against the wall. "I must have died and gone to heaven, because you look like an angel." The look she gives me is far from impressed. "Do you use that with all the girls, or am I just lucky?"

“we both know what we want, so why don't we fall in love?” “Rhythmic Gymnast Padme Naberrie has dreamed of being an Olympian since she was five years old. Now, after years and years of training and preparations, she's finally made it to Rio, and nothing is going to stand in the way between her and a gold medal. Except a certain Canadian beach volleyball player, perhaps.”

“Infinite” “ My bounty is as boundless as the sea, my love as deep; the more I give to thee, the more I have, for both are infinite.”

“for a moment” “And, just for a moment, all the worries and concerns that troubled the young couple cease to exist. Fade away to just this. Husband and wife. Asleep. Dreaming of the sweet little life they will soon bring into the world and into their hearts. Set somewhere in ROTS.”

“Procrastination” “Padmé is busy with a new bill she must bring before the next Senate meeting. Her husband has other ideas, it would seem.”

“There’s a million reasons I should give you up”  “Padmé struggles to deal with Anakin's frequent departures for weeks, even months, at a time during the Clone Wars. It's in these moments she contemplates the practicality of their marriage. Grief-stricken with loneliness, she stumbles across something she wrote a long time ago... a list of sorts. The find brings about a whole host of emotions she'd rather not deal with.”

“all I need is you” “It was her fault. His pain, his jealousy, his insecurity. It was all her fault. Padme looked up at the beautiful man in front of her, her husband, her Ani, and decided she needed to make him remember. Remind him of how much she loved him. Because no one, no man in the entire galaxy, could take the place of Anakin Skywalker.” 

“Her” “A glimpse into the Cosmic Force after Darth Vader's redemption and return to the Light Side. Anakin Skywalker is consumed by guilt and Obi-wan and Yoda are there to appease him. But it's been twenty-four years and all he wants is to see her.” 

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

  Writer: SphinxScribe (Fanfiction profile/ Tumblr account @sphinxscribe ) This fantastic writer has many, many alternate takes on the plot of Revenge of the Sith - often allowing our favourite couple to have a happy ending. Their writing captures the world of Star Wars perfectly. 

The stories I recommend: 

“Where Catalysts Stand Down” “Palpatine issues Order 66, and Anakin and Padmé flee Coruscant. ROTS AU. Anakin/Padmé, Anidala.”

“Viability’s Edge” “Anakin tells Obi-Wan the truth. ROTS AU. Anakin/Padmé, Anidala.”

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

Writer: Disco Shop Girl (Fanfiction profile) This writer’s take on Anidala is so well written within every story of theirs I have read. They truly capture their dynamic and relationship perfectly. 

The stories I recommend:

“Your helmet cracked” “He'd been restrained, forced to watch while her helmet cracked and the Mon Calamari sea water threatened to drown her before his eyes. Now they're free. And alone. Set at the end of the Clone Wars season 4 Water War arc.” 

“Order 66-S” “The order was to exterminate all Jedi: Past, Present and Future. Captain Rex has a different plan. Order 66-S: to save General Skywalker.”

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

Writer: Rogue Darth Skywalker (Fanfiction profile/ Tumblr - @roguedarthskywalker) This wonderful person has been one of the biggest supporters of my own writing for a long time and I value them immensely! They have many delicious Anidala/Vaderdala stories for you to obsess over for hours and hours. I highly recommend following both profiles linked above.

The stories I recommend:

“Pin up Problems” “He hated the nose art. He hated seeing others degrade her other exceptional qualities by depicting her as some pin up girl. He hated thinking about how many other beings across the stars fantasized about her in such a way. At the same time, he can't deny that the art makes her look… hot. He can't deny that the sight turns him on.”

“Letting Go” “It was their custom. Every year on that fateful day, Anakin would make his way to the cemetery with his children and seek out the mausoleum where she rested."

“Far from Perfect” “Darth Vader is dead. Anakin is redeemed and lives on Naboo with Padme and their children. But not all happy endings are perfect.”

“Far from Easy” “Sequel to Far From Perfect. Redeemed Anakin Skywalker tries to make things right with his wife and kids.

“Perfect” “Happy Family style AU post ROTS. Padme wakes up in the middle of the night and ponders the most recent events in her life.”

“A Dangerous Fantasy” “Pure Smut. Padme helps Anakin fulfil a fantasy he has had since they were married- one that involves the Jedi Council Chambers.”

“Untitled” “Anakin and Padme deal with having to tell their young twins they are having another baby.”

“Strictly Professional” “There are times she hates that she has to resort to this- that rather than being in a long term relationship with someone, she chose to instead pay someone for sex. Modern AU.”  

“Out of his Depth” “I fought in a war. I commanded legions of soldiers against battle droids. I think I can handle my own four-year-old twins."

“Love and Jealousy” “Anakin gave the binders an experimental tug, testing his chances of escaping. There was none. A light chuckle left his lips after a few moments, letting his head fall back to rest on the chair. What a compromising position for a Jedi Knight to be in. Handcuffed in a respected senator's bedchambers practically naked… oh, how the holonews would rave should the story get out!” 

“Against all Odds” “He shouldn't be here. The election was only a few weeks away and the final debate was due in the next few days. There were so many other things he should be doing. He shouldn't be here, in enemy territory wrapped in the arms of the woman his boss despised. Modern AU. Smut.” 

“What we Hope is Never Found” “The impending existence of a recording of them together held dangers that went a little deeper than if they were found naked and tangled together in her office or on his cruiser. The physical proof of their relationship would cause an uproar if it were discovered. But she trusted Anakin. Smut.”

“It was Found” “Sequel to What We Hope is Never Found.”

“Things that go bump in the night” “Luke and Leia think there is a ghost in their home. Their parents know better.”

“Preparations” “She couldn't wait to meet their little ones. It hadn't been too long since they learned she was having twins, and as stressful as that idea was at first, she was quickly growing accustomed to the idea of having two perfect little babies. Her husband, however, seemed to be taking it a little worse than her.” 

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

Writer: Skywalkersamidala (Archive of our Own profile/ Tumblr @markantonys) I absolutely adore the Anidala stories created by this author whether they’re aus or canon! They nail the couple’s dynamic throughout their many wonderful stories. 

The stories I recommend:

“Snow Place like Home” “For genre-typical convoluted reasons involving ill-timed blizzards, Padmé is forced to spend the holidays at Anakin's house. Anakin isn't as upset about his boss staying with him for Christmas as he probably should be.“

“Soulmates R Us” “Anakin works at a toy store, and single-mother-of-twins Padmé is becoming one of the store's best customers.”

“Heirs of Light and Darkness” “After escaping the Jedi purge two years ago made him the most wanted fugitive in the galaxy, Anakin Skywalker has at last been captured by the Empire. He expects to be killed, but Lady Padmé Amidala, the imperial heir, has other ideas.”

“Friendly Competition” “Playing Quidditch is awfully difficult when you’re in love with the rival Seeker. Snapshots of Anakin and Padmé’s 7 years at Hogwarts.“

“Perfect” “The war is over, Luke and Leia are five years old, and Anakin and Padmé finally have the peaceful life and big family they've always dreamed of. But their life is about to get a little less peaceful and their family a little bigger.“

“Nos Cedamus Amori“ “Anakin is a gladiator and a slave. Padmé is the wife of the Roman emperor's heir. Circumstances should never even allow them to meet, let alone fall in love.“

“I Do Take Two” “Thirty years after their clandestine wedding on Naboo, Anakin and Padmé decide to finally do the proper wedding ceremony they never got to have, with all their friends and family present.“

“Flat Tire” “Who knew something as simple as getting a flat tire could change the entire course of your life?“

“Strays” “Anakin had always had a penchant for taking in strays.”

“Five weddings and a funeral” “Padmé's feeling gloomy about her perpetual singleness, but everything changes when she meets an attractive stranger at her sister's wedding.“

“Pipe Dream” “Padmé's new plumber is the most attractive human being she's ever laid eyes on, so naturally, she keeps faking plumbing emergencies so she can keep seeing him.“

“Birthdays and Birth days” “Anakin gets a birthday surprise — two of them, in fact.“

“Spouses with Benefits” “Anakin and Padmé wake up after a wild night in Vegas and discover they accidentally got married—and that Ahsoka posted about it all over social media, so now every single person they know is texting and calling them to offer congratulations. They decide to save face by pretending the marriage was totally 100% intentional and not a drunk mistake at all, keeping up the charade for six months, and then quietly getting divorced. But a lot can change in six months…“

“Two Halves Make a Whole” “Anakin is the single dad of Luke. Padme is the single mom of Leia. Luke and Leia meet in kindergarten and become best friends. The rest is history.“

“Home” “In which "Darth Vader" is no more than Anakin's playtime alter ego (happy Skywalker family AU)“

“Someday” “At age fourteen, Padme receives a marriage proposal from the nine-year-old boy next door and tells him to ask her again when she's thirty. Surely he'll have forgotten all about it by then.“

“Across the Centuries” “They meet each other in every century, but something always goes wrong before they can make it to happily-ever-after.”

“Madam President” “Between late nights and headaches and mountains of paperwork and fierce opposition from her political opponents, President Padmé Amidala already had enough on her plate. And then she just had to go and fall for one of her bodyguards, a relationship which would ruin her reputation and his career if anyone were to find out about it. Also, someone's trying to kill her.“

“Scars” “How do Anakin and Padmé go from "I love you" to "I do"? Missing scene from Attack of the Clones.”

“The Bet” “Anakin's had a crush on Padmé since fourth grade, and after putting up with his pining for seven years, Obi-Wan and Ahsoka are finally stepping in and making a bet that he can't ask her to junior prom in the spring. Meanwhile, Padmé is realizing that Anakin isn't as annoying as she'd always thought. In fact, her feelings towards him are starting to go in quite the opposite direction...”

“Three” “His and Padmé’s first wedding anniversary isn’t going nearly as well as Anakin had hoped it would. Until, suddenly, it’s so much better than he could have ever imagined.“

“The Anakin Disaster” “Padmé is mortified upon waking up beside her strictly platonic childhood best friend Anakin Skywalker the morning after a drunken one-night stand. A couple weeks later, she discovers that's the least of their problems.“

“Will You Fake Marry Me?” “Anakin's boss may or may not have accidentally given her family the impression that she's engaged to him. Anakin may or may not be pleased about the situation”

“Aggressive Negotiations” “Empress Amidala invites Lord Vader to her private rooms to persuade him to form an alliance with the Empire. Her methods are very effective.”

“Troubling Implications” “Perhaps he hated himself for it—Padmé thought he probably did—but he came that night (several times, in fact). And the night after that, and the next one, and the next, until it became a habit that neither of them seemed especially inclined to break. (Sequel to "Aggressive Negotiations")

“Imperial Obligations” “Padmé's advisors suggest that she get rid of Vader and make a politically advantageous marriage. The Empress is less than pleased. (Sequel to "Aggressive Negotiations" and "Troubling Implications")”

“Welcome Home” “Anakin Skywalker closes his eyes on the face of his son. When he opens them again, he is in Naboo, and someone is waiting for him.“

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

Writer: Shawn30 (Fanfiction profile) The one, the only, the deservedly famous! I think every Anidala fan is aware of this f a n t a s t i c writer’s work. Deliciously smutty. Unbelievably well written. Unfortunately, many of their works have been left uncompleted for years but the stories are still worth reading!

 “Whisper” “Absence makes the heart grow fonder, but can also whither your soul and breed doubt in your heart. AP angsty erotica.”

“The Ties that Bind” “Given a brief period of time off during the Clone Wars, Padmé and Anakin visit her family at the Lake Country estate on Naboo. A family that still doesn't know they are married, although they are about to find out. Complete.” 

“The Light and the Dark” “Chapter 1 in the Hearts and Souls series. An unexpected Separatist attack 'accidentally' reunites two star-crossed lovers, giving them a brief moment of peace at a time of war. Complete.”

“Shadows of Winter” “Chapter 2 in the Hearts and Souls series. With six days to spend together celebrating their two year anniversary, Anakin and Padme travel separately to a remote planet in the Hoth system. Romance, passion, and danger await them. Complete.” 

 “Beloved” “Chapter 3 in the "Hearts and Souls" series. When faced with the most horrific news imaginable, Padme's utter desperation forces her to turn to Obi-Wan and even Chancellor Palpatine for help. Her greatest personal challenge awaits... Complete” 

 “Paradise” “The sequel to "Beloved." Following Padme's daring rescue of her husband, the Skywalker's return to Naboo for eight days to heal, unwind, spend time with family, and deal with their connection to the Dark Side of the Force.” 

 “Salvation” “After facing his moment of truth, Anakin and Padmé must finally deal with the consequences. Obi-Wan reveals a startling discovery. Complete” 

“Scandalous” “The sequel to Salvation. On the eve of Padmé Skywalker's official ascension to the role of Vice Chair of the Republic, Anakin steals her away for a wild vacation to Cloud City. Complete.”

“Sacred” “Chapter 2. Ahsoka and Jo'Seth grow closer. Padme's trip to the Jedi Temple on Republic business turns a bit more adventurous. Anakin and Obi-Wan have a heart to heart talk about moving forward.”

“Belonging” “A private afternoon lunch to catch up with an old friend during the Clone Wars reveals a great deal to ObiWan Kenobi. AP”

“Before the Seasons Change” “With the Darth Sidious finally defeated and the Clone Wars ended, Anakin and Padme consider what comes next in their lives. Anakin/Padme”

“Amor Vincit Omnia” “AU. After a three and a half year separation Vice Chair Amidala and Jedi Master Skywalker have some unfinished business as the Clone Wars have finally ended and Palpatine is dead.”

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

If there’s any stories I missed, let me know!

[pen-observing]

Yellow feelings

You hold pure feelings for an unpure being. Then again, so does Lucifer.

Warnings: none

Masterlist

Walking through the garden you tried to remember a truth universally acknowledged. In nature, and in solitude, lies the place where humans have to be honest with themselves. Where humans have to admit to their emotions. What nature was more beautiful than the unique hybrid flowers decorating the paths of the House of Lamentation? What nature so odd to a human vessel? Among these paths is where the fragility of humanity turns into undeniable honesty. Why? You realize how small you are whilst your feelings overwhelm your body and soul. You realize that truth sets free in all cases.  

When you strayed off the path and walked the streets alone, in moments Mammon had a photoshoot so he could not tag along, you could lie to yourself. You could lie in the halls of RAD. You could stay quiet in front of Diavolo. In a way; you would, in an impulsive moment, even lie to the most powerful being of that strange world. But, my dear, you cannot lie to yourself.

What is the difference between love uttered and love unspoken? The simple secret, once complexities are out of the way, is how it influences people. The massive love which marks growth everyday inside your hearth is unspoken. It is secret. Unlike those that utter the feelings to regain control, you try to swim inside the flutters and crashes of waves that a single glace may bring. You try to fight, you try to silently give in but the end result it always the same. Unspoken love towards him drowns you. It does not even give you a glimmer of a glowing chance to fight back.

You have contemplated long and hard about what having these feelings towards Lucifer really meant. You have questioned and wandered into depths of your mind in trying to find answers. Denial was the strongest weapon at first.  

Maybe you watching the way his glowed hand held the tea cup just meant you wanted to find more grace? Perhaps knowing how his hair decorated his features just meant admiring the beauty of a creature who once was an angel? Perhaps knowing which eye of his would twitch first from another crazy idea the prince had was just you, well, finding fun in such circumstances?

Oh, how denial came naturally to you. Oh, how denial dispersed once your feet stood on the stone grounds to look at the flowers.

What you held for Lucifer; shielded in such a small body, guarded with such helpless hands and nurtured with unnoticed care was not, - could not - be anything short of love.

These hybrid flowers were witnesses to your promise. These cold stones showed you the path towards fulfilling it. You swore to tell Lucifer the truth.  

Countlessly drowning in waves of secret love would hurt immensely.

Knowing yourself meant taking determined steps towards his study with wavering confidence. If you did not confess now, your own cowardice would eat away any other chance. Why was it that in this moment, in this brief time, you felt so brave? Fate, my dear.

Your feet carried you in front of his door. The door that was almost always slightly ajar, just in case some brother was sneaking out front trying to play another petty trick towards the man that undeniably felt fond of them. His door seemed to loom over you like never before. It seemed to carry a warning. The anxiety of finally uttering feelings, as you did not plan a confession yet, kept growing. However, your impulsive bravery overcame it and stepped a bit closer.  

“Pass me my favorite pen, please?”, Lucifer’s voice stopped your hand. Your breathing. All at once. It cut through the air.

Who was the other person in Lucifer’s sacred room? Who was he speaking to in such a voice? Surely, it made you stop but this; this voice plainly displayed exhaustion. Lucifer usually masked worries and held up a proud persona. He had invisible walls to represent himself in such a light that would intimidate everyone. And, hold up- Lucifer has a favourite pen? How come you did not know this despite all the habits your love swayed you to see?

Whoever the other person was in the room with him did not reply. Why? Why was there no reply? If you are breaking the moral codes of privacy just by staying rooted in curiosity they might as well offer something. Anything. Who was the person Lucifer let his guard down for?

Your vision could only take in a bit of what was happening. With quiet breathing and an even quieter step forward; you ducked to see into the room more.

“Oh.”

It is odd how sometimes a heart carrying so much love can break; logical realizations along with atmosphere impressions do not ask you whether the emotions were spoken yet. People always claim that expressions of great partnership and infatuation are carried out with grand displays of affection. Grand displays can feel special regardless of what the person means to you sometimes. You always looked at the little things; the things that stand as invisible strings of love between two people. And, what you saw was enough.  

You looked at the sight smiling softly. The need to ardently confess to Lucifer was vanished. It was replaced by understanding and a soft heartbreak. Unspoken love deserves this kind of heartbreak, this kind of ending, my dear.

What do you think hurts more? Rejection after a confession or not a chance to confess at all? I claim it is never having confessed while wishing the object of your affection all the best in this world.

How dare you walk away from the study door faster than you came? How dare you not notice the garden flowers expressing a sad ode to your feelings? How dare you curse the stone path which lead you there? It is paradoxical really. How could you smile when you saw Diavolo’s hand gracefully extend a pen towards Lucifer? How could you smile at Lucifer’s loose tie while Diavolo gazed at him like he was still an angel? It was true intimacy. True intimacy was in that space, between Lucifer and Diavolo; in small moments of everyday life that signified something so grand. It signified a true mark of love.

So, how could you smile and wish their love all the best yet still shed tears and run away from that sight? Run away from that space? Where were you running with such clouded eyes? How did you manage to stay so quiet?

You did not know. All you knew was that a path seemed to open up. It led somewhere you never explored before. Was it always here? Running from something is easier than not knowing where you are running. Something tugged your soul towards that field. Something your clouded eyes could not recognize.  

Perhaps it was the magic of humanity?

Was it even necessary to name the force that lead you to a small field which seemed to stand alone in that strange world? No. That field called upon you to answer. The steps carrying you there reached their destination. You stopped in the middle and looked around.

Daffodils. This place was overflowing with daffodils.   Golden stars amongst the green grass welcomed you as one of their own.  

This was the first time that the Devildom was kind enough to show flowers from the human world. It awakened something within you. A spark.  

“I wandered lonely as a cloud...”

Those words just came out of your mouth as if asking to harmonize with the surrounding scenery.

Yellow flowers. What does that love mean now? Blue feelings. Where is that love supposed to go?  

Thinking back...when did romantic love lead you up until now?

You dropped down on your knees, completely quiet as one tear drop slid down your right cheek. Yellow feelings. 

While gazing at the daffodils in front; you brought your hands up, palms pressed together.  In this strange world you found a place to be a broken human again. The gaze shifted towards the sky.

“Please, God, do not let my love be in vain forever.”

Here you were. Praying in a field of yellow under the eternally dark sky. Hoping that your next love, uttered or unspoken, would not waste away.

What is this? Okay basically, I wandered lonely as a cloud is a name of a poem which starts that same way. I had to learn it for one of my classes. It is by Wordsworth and you can read it if you wish to understand more. It is about him being lonely and wandering around until daffodils /which, signify unrequited love by the way) charm him. It is my way of saying unrequited love is not the end, while it is very common. No, I do not ship Dialuci but Diavolo was the first one that came to my mind!

[sunseteyes]

by your side

ㅤㅤ ↪︎ STARRING: hajime iwaizumi; gn!reader

ㅤㅤ ↪︎ THEMES: mutual pining? kinda sad

ㅤㅤ ↪︎ WORD COUNT: 4.6k words

ㅤㅤ ↪︎ SYNOPSIS: this is the story of you and hajime, and how your friendship crumbled when he found out something that was meant to be a secret moments after it was said. 

ㅤㅤ ↪︎ INTERMISSION: this is a part of @samusangel​ ‘s songfics! the song for this fic is ex by kiana ledé. do listen to that song because it’s bop! also, i have finally interpreted my real life story of my 7-year unrequited crush:) yes, most of this fic is based on what happened to me, not all though. i’m kinda hoping to do the ending too lmao. please don’t get too attached to hajime:) enjoy! oh btw i had to add arms on iwa’s pic so if you noticed it, i’ll give yo 10m points (also for the reference for that line haha)

when you first met hajime iwaizumi, it felt as if you had someone who will always have your back, someone you’d always trust, someone who’d continually care about you, through and through. 

that’s how being friends are, right? 

yet why is it that his name alone could hurt you better than anyone’s? why can you still remember the stolen glances and lingering touches that were barely there? 

why is it that even after eight years, you’re still regretting why you said hello that day? 

why? 

from oikawa: hey! from oikawa: i heard that you’re in the photography club from oikawa: please please speak to my friend iwa-chan he can be kinda shy  to oikawa: uhm who is this? do i know you? from oikawa: oh my y/n from oikawa: did you really not have the one and only oikawa tooru’s number?! me?? to oikawa: ...oikawa how did you get my number? to oikawa: and who’s iwa-chan??

“hey iwaizumi-san! come sit here!” you exclaimed, a huge grin on your face as both you patted the seat beside you, eyes looked over at the boy that had just entered the room, a sense of relief passing by his expression the moment he found your gaze. 

“we’re in the same class, right? and i think makki mentioned you before. what’s your name again?” he says the moment he sat on the same chair you urged him to sit on.

“(y/n),” you held out your hand. “-it’s nice to meet you.” 

hajime takes it willingly, a friendly look on his face when he does so all the while responding with, “it’s nice to meet you too. and since i can call you with your first name, then you can call me hajime, if you’d like.” 

“well, hajime it is then.” 

the smiles that you shared were harmless, not even an ounce of hesitating thought crossed your mind when you had your very first conversation with him, as well as the next ones. 

“hey hajime, what’s your number?” 

“hm? have i not given it to you yet? here, let me type it for you.” 

from iwaizumi: hey :) to iwaizumi: yeah yeah i received it hajime from iwaizumi: oh come on from iwaizumi: is saying a hello that hard?? to iwaizumi: hello to iwaizumi: you happy? from iwaizumi: yeah :)

“(y/n), want to join us for lunch? we have a free seat right here.” 

“hajime! i saw a good movie! let’s watch it later? snacks are on me as long as it’s your turn next time.” 

smiles, giggles, laughs, whispers or notes whenever the class is ongoing, always beside each other during club meetings, you and hajime even share each other’s secrets and random text conversations during midnights. in just a short time, you were able to trust him, and he did the same for you. for you, that is indeed an unusual feat--you never trusted people that easily to be honest. 

“have you heard of the name wakatoshi ushijima? i once liked him, y’know.” you say in a low volume, making sure none else hears not just because your words were meant to be a secret that was  never to be talked out loud, but it’s since you and hajime are currently in a club meeting, and you would hate your name to be added in the noisy list. 

“you meant that big guy in section five? are you serious?” hajme scoffs, as if you just said a very insulting thing to him. “you could do better, you know that.”

you scoff, chuckling. “are you blind? he’s as handsome as you could be.” 

“is that your way of saying i am handsome?” he smirks, “i knew i’m your type all along.” 

you playfully smacked him on the leg, making him recoil a bit from your form. 

“you wish,” you muttered, brushing off his claims, not really expecting much by that time. 

still, fate decides to surprise you with a gift you can never take back. 

“hey, what do you think of iwaizumi? you two are quite close, aren’t you?” 

“well,” you say, humming as you try to think of a reply whilst writing down the remaining notes that you should write before the teacher decides to erase the contents of the blackboard. the subject itself made it difficult because it was math--and you always fail on math thus this matter is more important than the topic that your friend was chatting about. 

so you gave a mindless answer. “he’s a dork, but he can be cute sometimes.” you say, a memory of when you had to endure an entire hour of hajime talking about dinosaurs flashing in your mind a ghost of a smile crossing your lips as you continued writing on your math notebook. 

then a tragedy came in almost an instant, not even a single warning to try and prevent that from happening. 

and it changed your whole life. 

it was childish, you could say, and it was the start of a neverending downfall for not only you, but for your friendship with hajime. 

“he’s cute?! hey, hajime, (y/n) thinks you’re cute!” 

when the roars of your classmates reached your ears, you were already sitting upright, eyes wide open, forehead knitted, and mouth slightly ajar. 

what?

the moment your gaze met his, you knew that he believed it; the childish statement that was meant to be platonically true. 

you were misunderstood.

bye everyone, including hajime. 

and by the next day, when the club where you and he first met came, he didn’t want to sit next to you. what’s more, is that he purposely asked his other seatmate to change seats with him. 

he ignored you, the whole time. 

to iwaizumi: hey  to iwaizumi: you don't believe that right from iwaizumi: what? to iwaizumi: what happened earlier to iwaizumi: it’s not true yknow that from iwaizumi: uh from iwaizumi: yeah sure

“you like him, don’t you?’ 

you glared at hanamaki, one that could even send daggers his way if it could. “no, i don’t”

“then why are you so worried? i mean, he still responds to your chats, right?” he mutters, munching on his sandwich all the while watching a volleyball match of your seniors, eyes trained at the ball. 

you frowned, biting your lower lip in contemplation as you recalled when you talked to hajime last night about school work, which was a thing for the two of you before too. 

“yeah,” you say, glancing at the other side of the gym, where hajime sat next to toru, his childhood best friend who was from another class. by then, a rush of sadness and loneliness flushes away your appetite, the sandwich on your hand almost forgotten. “-but he’s completely ignoring me in real life.”

it didn’t bother you much by that time. 

“you’re staring, y/n.”

“yeah, like they do always.” 

you could only roll your eyes at hanamaki and matsukawa, who were your best friends at that time due to the fact that you three had been at the same class during elementary and had continued being close since then. when you became friends with hajime, you merely did so just to have someone to talk within that one club that you shared with him and not with the rest of your classmates. aside from that, you felt comfortable talking to the guy. he really did look friendly and welcoming that it was quite easy to hit him up with a conversation. 

but it didn’t mean that you like hajime. 

right?

you scoff, muttering for the two to shut up before proceeding to enter your classroom, the two leaving you alone since they were not a part of your class. now, you could only bow your head down as you make your way to your seat, trying not to make much of a peep in hopes that no one will have to talk to you and most likely bring up the topic of you “crushing” on hajime when it’s not true at all. 

but guess what? it’s not going to happen when the fact that your seatmate is toru oikawa himself. 

“hey (y/n)! have you had a great lunch?”

the smile that creeped to your face was forced, honestly speaking. although if oikawa had noticed it, he didn’t ask for it further. “yes i did, how about you?”

“well, it was nice, but don’t you think it will be nicer if you join me and iwa-chan instead?” 

the thing with oikawa is that he’s not just chatty with you, but he also tends to tease you with hajime, before that unfortunate day even came. the story behind that is that oikawa merely saw you talking with hajime one time after the club that you two shared and then he confided to you the next day, saying “you and iwa-chan look cute together, (y/n), i swear one day one of you will fall in love with the other,  i’m sure of it.” 

okay, you confirm to yourself that you didn’t like hajime that way is not because you wanted to prove oikawa wrong, but it does seem like toru oikawa was challenging you ever since he said those words to you. 

and of course, you’ll win it, no matter if it was a real challenge or not. 

“how about you, do you have any ideas?” 

eyes followed as soon as the conversation turned to you, including hajime’s--to which you have met as soon as your mind returned to the reality that you temporarily exchanged for the train of thoughts that continued to operate inside of your mind. 

“huh?”

“if you’ve got any ideas for the project,” says oikawa, being the automatic leader of the group due to his ability to instantly get along with everyone and having the real capability of leading them. apparently, the teacher decided to group you with the two, along with two other classmates that you never really bothered to get along well with. “if none, we can just go with what we gathered so far.” 

you broke your contact with hajime after he did, turning your gaze to oikawa with a shake of your head. “no, i don’t have any.” 

the worst part of the situation between you and hajime was that everything seems like a lie. the friendship--it seemed like a lie that you never bothered to correct or initiate to stop. why? 

yeah, you kept wondering why. 

maybe it’s because you always treasure your friends, or that you wanted to prove that what they are claiming is a fake, a lie--that you didn’t have a crush on hajime, and you will never ever will. 

but what if you really did? 

what if all these denials are making you believe that it is true as well? you had been thinking about that for quite some time now and the thought of it alone scares you. sure, you’ve had crushes or you’ve had people whom you liked or had feelings before, but not one that was your friend. it makes you wonder if these so-called “feelings” could have been due to wanting to always be with him and talk to him, but not in a romantic way. in fact, those are what you were feeling towards hajime. 

there’s really nothing you should overthink about. 

you like hajime as a friend, but not as someone you could see being with doing all the romantic stuff that other people do with their significant others. 

for all you know, that thought was sooner diminished. 

“did you cut your hair?” 

“hm? yeah i did-” looking up, a sight that you never bothered to ever think about before was suddenly in front of you--hajime, with all the beauty of his wide shoulders and the muscles of his arm peaking through under his sleeve, extending down to his exposed skin to hi beautiful, veiny hand. 

the only reason you were able to be brought back to school and to where you are exactly was when you felt a fleeting touch by your forehead, brushing away a couple of strands of hair that  was on your forehead, the action waking you up in almost an instant to find hajime iwaizumi stepping back to give you back your personal space, an embarrassed look on his face that he sooner had to look away sideways to “hide” it from you. 

and then he walked away. just like that. 

you didn’t know how many seconds or even minutes you were sat frozen on that bench, the sight of the people practicing dancing in front of you to prepare for the upcoming intramurals that has a cheerleading competition in its event. your mind was floating; maybe up in the sky, plunging through the clouds, thinking about only one thing--or person. 

why he did that, you had no idea. you could only think about all the questions that suddenly popped in your head, the scene continuing on playing like a broken television, replaying and replaying and replaying. 

from iwaizumi: hey that hairstyle looks good on you from iwaizumi: you should keep it to iwaizumi: i ain’t keeping a hairstyle just coz you like it :p to iwaizumi: but… does it really suit me? from iwaizumi: yes :)

“do you like iwa-chan, y/n?”

you were sure you didn’t before but now is a different matter. not after that very small moment that you’ve had in real life after hajime ignored you continually on the outside. 

leaving oikawa’s question unanswered was not a good idea, and he kept pestering you, asking you the very same thing, even as you were with others, merely whispering the words by your ear whenever he has a chance. you knew it was merely oikawa’s way of trying to set his two friends up--that’s if you treat him as a friend anyway.

you ignored oikawa, only until he whispered a different statement one day. 

“i heard one of our classmates likes him.”

now that had caught your attention, unconsciously making you lock eyes with oikawa, who visibly looked pleased with the reaction that he was able to pull out from you. 

“who?”

“the same one who asked you if you like iwa-chan.” 

maybe it was out of curiosity or maybe something else, but either way, that specific reason made you glance towards where oikawa was pointing at, the very same person he was referring to in his words was sitting next to hajime, such an unfamiliar sight for basically anyone since hajime was indeed seated far away from them before, and for you to see them beside each other, it was, what was that word?--unsettling. 

“they obviously like him, don’t you think?” oikawa mutters next to you, his lips pursed together, his eyes narrowed at the same way you were looking as well, the very subjects of your gazes minding their own business, as if they were the only ones left in the world. 

you looked away before you could think about them further, however the scene is still in your mind, evading it and also blocking the previous memory that was stuck in your mind for days--when hajime finally made a “conversation,” with you. well, he didn’t really talk much that time but it was still better than nothing.

 and now, just when he was not ignoring you, this person shows up and flirts with him-

wait, stop thinking about it y/n!

you blamed it on oikawa, like you had always done, ignoring the fact that those blames should be pointed to you instead--you who had an indecisive mind and the one that thought of all of this as a challenge of a game--a game where you should beat all the teasings by ignoring all of them. rather than doing that, you overthought all of them--it was all your fault. 

it was your fault that you’re now having feelings for hajime. 

unbeknownst to you, they slowly built up inside of your heart, his grasps creeping and creeping the more you longed for him in real life and not just behind the gadget that you two had; behind the chats that were merely there, inside an application where you can never know what his real reactions were due to the fact that you couldn’t see him as you two converse. 

it was you. 

it was you whose heart started fluttering as time went by. 

“come on, hug them! it’s a punishment.” everyone cheers, and yet beyond the noise is the panic that rushes through your entire system, your eyes glazed over at hajime, who was looking embarrassed the more seconds passed by. 

you stood there, fidgeting and unable to stop yourself from moving your feet, walking towards mattsun to makki to oikawa, begging them to stop this with merely your eyes, your lips refusing itself to open and say something that you’ll regret. after fully accepting the fact that you were slowly having these pesky feelings towards hajime, you still kept denying it to others. you were still afraid of what hajime would think. yes, sure, he was still talking to you through chats and text messages, even calling you a few times, and you knew that he wouldn’t be that pleased to have others teasing the two of you like this. he gets particularly annoyed whenever he’s “embarrassed” for stupid stuff like this. he deems it “pointless” in his own words. 

it hurts, and that’s why you were also willing to indulge with oikawa and the others during moments like these, the hidden desires of your heart coming true to life even for just this single moment. 

when you finally felt hajime’s arms around you, you felt as if you were protected, nurtured, and secured--and it felt very different. whenever you hug someone, you’ll feel comfortable, yes, but never this kind. in hajime’s arms, you felt a shield that physically safeguarded you from your surroundings, even from the noises that were supposed to erupt by your ears. instead, you heard of nothing but your heartbeat, pounding like a madman inside of your chest, continually for only one person. 

by then have you realized how much you have craved for him. 

you have hugged hajime a couple of times before, but it  was the very first time that you have felt that kind of sensation pass through every cell in your body, releasing a rush of contentment only a millisecond after you’ve felt it. the embrace didn’t last for long, but for you, it was enough. for now. 

that night, he didn’t reply to your text messages. 

to iwaizumi: hey to iwaizumi: are you asleep already?  to iwaizumi: it’s still early though... to iwaizumi: just uhm message me when you read this okay?

when you felt like everything was going back into order before the hug, fate does something again. 

actually, it was you who did it and fate merely attracted you to doing it. 

people are afraid of confessions, most of the time. and apparently, you’re one of those people. no matter if it’s a confession for a petty thing such as telling your friend that they smell a bit or a stranger when you see them having some dirt on their face or stain on their clothes. yet, despite being nervous about it, you still do it. 

for some reason, it applies to your feelings about a confession towards hajime as well. 

the moment you had fully accepted to yourself that you liked him more than a friend would, you knew it was the end for your friendship with him- that you can never bring back whatever that was lost or what was supposed to had been before any of these shenanigans ever happened. 

weeks and months went by, until it had been a year and more since you first claimed that you liked him. by now, you weren’t at the same class as him anymore and guess what? you two were not talking or texting anymore either. 

it seemed as if the friendship just… faded. and even if you had feelings for him, you let it slip from your hands, and yet it was the very thing that you were convinced that you wanted to have all this time--to not let this friendship die. since there was no possible way hajime would ever like you, at least you’ll have the friendship, you’ll still have him with you, by your side, even not as someone you secretly desired him to be. 

“how is he?” you let out, barely able to look at oikawa as you gazed at your feet and the ground, something that is  not even that interesting--to which the other knew and noticed. yet instead of speaking of it, oikawa answered your question. 

“you meant iwa-chan, or me? if me, i’m alright, just a little hungry, do you want to go eat?” 

still, oikawa is oikawa and he did everything to make you look up to him, even if it were of a soft glare, like you’d always do--and you did, earning yourself a satisfied smirk from oikawa, slightly snickering at your reaction. 

“just kidding. iwa-chan is doing fine, just his usual self; iwa-chan being iwa-chan. no one is with him still, if you want to know--which i know you were.” he says, even so far as learning by your side, as if attempting to mutter the last statement by your ear.

even if your and hajime’s friendship were slowly fading away, you and oikawa still kept in touch. you had no idea why but, he eventually became your friend while in the process of this hajime ordeal, plus he was also your seatmate the whole year when you were at the same class. 

oh, and he’s also the only one connected to hajime, so of course, being friends with him was also an advantage for you. at least, there was a mutual friend whom you could talk and confide to about his own friend, hajime. 

“what happened to your confession anyway? i was quite positive you had a chance with iwa-chan this whole time.” you couldn’t see what he was looking at as he was saying those words but you were sure you heard him huff, which meant that he was making this funny expression in his face, one that made you chuckle a bit at the mental scene. 

yet that chuckle turned into a smile--a smile that oikawa could admit that he had never seen in your face before. 

“i confessed i like him, but, well, it’s pretty obvious that he didn’t like me. if he does, we’d probably be dating right now.” 

usually, oikawa would be amused at your sarcastic remarks, but this one, he did not lie it one bit, just like the sad expression that you were making. he felt as if he was in your place, and his heart broke for you, the friend whom his bestfriend had rejected. 

unbeknownst to you, oikawa tried to help you, even so far by “matchmaking” or “promoting” you to hajime. however, it seems the things only worsen the more oikawa does it. 

“why? don’t you like them?” 

“it’s not that.” the very same knitted brows appear on hajime’s expression and oikawa immediately recognized it since it was the same face that he’ll always give when they talk about a conflict--one that hajime doesn’t like talking about. 

oikawa thinks it's childish-- the way hajime ignores all of this and the way you still stay hopelessly devoted to this man. it’s like you’re both prolonging the discomfort and pain that you two were feeling. he wanted you two to just talk it all out so that he wouldn’t be caught in between the two of you, and also because he didn’t like having you and hajime to be in this situation. he loathed having to see you both suffer from your own decisions and actions. 

hajime is a broken man--that much you knew. oikawa once mentioned to you that hajime had his heart broken by someone he liked for several years, and now, he was rather reluctant in liking someone. when you came in the picture, he was already a broken man. that’s why you were fine with having to love him without him loving you back. 

you didn’t mention that it was not painful otherwise. 

“hajime,” 

the recognition that plays by his face amuses you, and you couldn’t help but smile at the sight of him too; his face is not really much different than before, but it was obvious that he had matured a lot and puberty really gifted him with such a handsome, chiselled face. not only that, but his build changed too, even if he did have strong, muscley arms before. now, he looks like a very mature young man. 

which he is anyway, why are you even paying attention to those things?

“long time no see” you say, halting in front of you and for him to fully turn to face you. 

“y/n?” hearing your name being called by him gives you a feeling you once had before. however, you merely brushed that thought away, just in time for him to finally break off of his surprise.

“yeah, it had been.” he says, then pulling out the chair beside him, patting it. “here, let me treat you to a drink.” 

you hesitated, and it seems as if hajime noticed it. “it’s alright if you’re in a hurry, we can just catch up some other day.”

“yeah, i think we should.” you nervously chuckled, and just when you were about to panic at how awkward the sudden encounter was, you were reminded by something. “we can have coffee some other day, but i have something for you.” 

hajime watches as you rummage your bag, your attention focused on whatever you were finding as he takes this opportunity to actually look at you. 

you look beautiful and mature, not so different from before, but you surely bloomed and become a really attractive person. if hajime were to be asked, he would have asked you on a date in almost an instant. yet, it will be proving to be difficult due to the history that you and him had. 

the thought alone makes him want to regret his decisions from before, but he was not willing to say or express it out loud. 

if you would give him a chance though, he’s pretty sure he would take it. he’s very different from who he was before, much mature and capable of being in a relationship. 

he’s ready. 

“here,” you suddenly were extending your hand to him, holding out a piece of envelope that looked very much like a letter. and before he could question it, you spoke. 

“i’m inviting you to our wedding. toshi and i are trying to find people from our previous schools so…. here.” 

the smile that was on your face was bright, and hajime was having a hard time processing everything that was happening in his mind and before he knew it, you were saying goodbye, leaving the invitation on his hand before leaving the cafe, saying that you had some errands to attend to. 

when he was left alone, it took hajime a full minute to open the invitation, seeing the names written on it and reading everything else. he was surprised, but what shocked him the most is that he actually felt different. 

he wasn’t heartbroken, no. it was as if someone had poured ice-cold water on him, the same memory of when you and him talked about the very same man you were marrying playing in his mind over and over. 

it was amazing how fate brought you two in this situation, but it sure didn’t occur in hajime’s mind. when he first met you, he felt like he’d just met someone who will always be by his side, and he knew you deserve the best, that’s why he thought that he did not deserve you. 

now he can only question himself as he looks at the invitation to your marriage with another man, drinking coffee alone and without anyone by his side anymore. 

[mae-gi-writes]

Catching Fire | Sunwoo (TBZ Imagine)

In which Sunwoo, a soldier of the Royal Kingdom of Atheera, is smitten with the princess he guards. 

Genre: fluff, a lil’ angst. 

Words: 1.9K 

"I have a really bad feeling about this," Y/N said as Sunwoo helped her climb over the edge of her balcony, legs swinging into nothingness as the wind whistled through the depths of night. She peered over the railing with worried eyes, fear lodged in the back of his throat. What in the world was she even doing?

"Scared, princess?" Sunwoo's murmur brushed against her ear and she shivered at the contact. She threw him a glare and would've shoved him off if not for the fact that there was nothing to cushion his fall. 

"You know, I keep asking myself why I do this every goddamn night," she thought aloud when the man turned to climb up the wall, using the vines that twined all the way up the castle and that were as thick and dense as trees themselves. She followed, now able to keep up with his pace with ease. Earlier on, it had been a struggle to even get herself hoisted upwards, her body strength barely nonexistent. But a few weeks in Sunwoo's presence had made her stronger, bolder, more determined to break and bend the laws as she saw fit. 

She was shivering by the time they reached one of the towers and was grateful when Sunwoo pulled over over the edge. They toppled to the ground and she landed in-between his legs with a yelp, head lifting only to realize how close they were. 

Her eyes widened, "I'm sorry--"

"I'm not," his eyes were playful, curving up into adorable crescents that she was so fond of. Funny how fate had decided that they should meet. He was barely a soldier of the royal guard, having never set foot inside castle walls until the king had promoted him to a member of the princess's private guards. 

The few initial weeks spent in her company had revealed to Sunwoo just how different she was from all the rumours that he had once believed to be true. She wasn't poised, definitely not down to earth and as gentle as people made her out to be. Heck, she could barely manage to walk down the hallway without stumbling over her own two feet! How she was still part of the royal family was still a mystery to him. 

He pulled her up gently by the back of her elbow as he watched her eyes lighting up with childlike wonder, gazing up at the stars as though she'd never seen anything quite like it. 

"I'll never get sick of this," she let out a sigh filled with content as the soldier leaned over the edge with his hands clasped before him, "I can't believe I never set foot here." 

"You're not allowed up here though," Sunwoo's eyebrow quirked upwards.

"You're right. I'm not. So I'm glad you showed this to me." 

"Anything for you, princess."

"Stop saying that," Y/N shot him a glare that would've sent any other guard running. Sunwoo, however, merely chuckled before nudging her playfully as she continued, "you can call me by my name, you know." 

"Oh I know, it's just more fun that way."

"Dick."

"Princess!" Sunwoo gasped mockingly, a hand settling atop his chest, "that is no way to talk!"

She shoved him in response, unable to stop the grin from spreading onto her face as they settled into a comfortable silence and basked in the peaceful air of the night sky. 

"Sunwoo, why'd you choose to be a soldier?" She asked suddenly. Realizing that it might have sounded a little condescending, she quickly added, "I mean, did you have a choice or?..."

"I had a choice," Sunwoo smiled down at her, touched at her consideration, "my options weren't the greatest though. It was either to be a soldier or to become an apprentice horseshoe maker and I wasn't into that."

"But being a soldier is such a tough job," Y/N murmured, "aren't you scared? I'd be scared in your place. I hate to constantly think that death might be just around the corner." 

"Princess, that's what soldiers are for. We live through death everyday."

"But that's--that's no way to live."

He sighs, "we don't really have a choice." 

Silence fell as she contemplated his words, turned them this way and that in her mind. Growing up as a princess had been fairly easy for the most part. She didn't mind acting like a true lady once in a while, so long as she could do whatever she pleased behind closed doors and out of the public's eye. She had grown used to the responsibilities, the endless running back and forth between meetings and conferences and private tutorials that her mother would line up one after another. 

But admittedly, this wasn't the life that she wanted to live. Not really. Whenever she caught sight of the young children running around in the village, there was always a sense of envy wallowing through her, a green murky substance she named jealousy that constantly questioned why she hadn't been granted such freedom. 

But grass was always greener on the other side, she had chided to herself then. At least there was food on the table, water to drink. She couldn't complain. 

"And you?" Sunwoo's words suddenly brought her back to reality and as she blinked, she realized that she had subconsciously sidled up close to him, snuggling into his warmth. 

Her eyes flickered up to meet his own hooded ones, glinting with a mysterious light that caused something inside her to stir. When he spoke again, his voice was softer, practically a murmur drifting through the wind, "do you regret being a princess?"

"I had no choice either," she looked out over the horizon and enjoyed the glittering yellow dots that alighted the city, "but I can't say that I don't regret it, for I can't help but wonder what it would be like if my life was different, if I was born in a normal family like everyone else." 

"I think you're doing a great job."

She glanced up at him, "what?"

"I think that the people of Atheera would agree with me when I say that you're doing a great job as a princess."

Though Y/N kept her gaze straight, she couldn't help the blush that spread over her cheeks like wildfire, "that's probably one of the nicest things you said to me," she tried not to let her voice quake, to give away to her surprise. 

Sunwoo chuckled beside her, "one of the nicest things?"

"You also said once that I was a great friend to you," she picked at her fingers, a habit she never quite got over in the first place, "I think that tops them all."

"You do pay attention, don't you?"

"When you spend all your life listening to people criticizing the way you do everything, you tend to cherish the compliments."

"What if I say that I think I've fallen in love with you? Would you remember that?"

"What?" Y/N's head snapped up with wide-eyed shock, mouth falling open at his statement. She looked like a deer caught in headlights and as Sunwoo gazed at her with a fondness, his heart squeezed with the known fact that this might be the last time he'd ever see her alone. His confession would change everything and while he knew that he was putting his life on the line by spouting this nonsense kept hidden in the grooves of his heart, he couldn't hold it in for longer, not when she was looking at him like he held her universe, so grateful that he'd shown her a piece of the world she seldom knew existed. 

"I--Yes, well. I--Of course I'd remember," she huffed in an attempt to keep a straight face. Despite all that, her cheeks were flushing the color of fire and he cocked his head, amused at the way her emotions flickered across her face without restraint for once. 

It was as though she had forgotten all princess principles that had been instilled in her from birth. 

"You can't do that, you know," she bit her lip and turned away, as if embarrassed by her own reaction. Her hands were picking at themselves and Sunwoo reached out to stop her, the warmth of his palm causing her to stiffen. 

"Can't do what? Say that I love you?" He asked.

"You can't love me, Sunwoo. I'm princess of Atheera. That' s bound to break your heart whether you like it or not."

"Oh I know," he gave her hand a little squeeze before moving a little closer, just so that her shoulder brushed against his chest. 

Her eyes fluttered back up to meet his, before they held gazes. What Sunwoo foundx to his utmost surprise, was not revulsion or fear. There it was, that naked childlike wonder, as though he'd caught her attention, as though he was the one that could mold her world any way she wanted, and she'd let him. 

He swallowed thickly, suddenly all too aware of the electricity buzzing in the air, between their bodies, connecting his palm to hers. 

He stepped back. Dropped his hand. 

"I'm sorry princess," he looked away, "that was clearly out of line--"

Hands grabbed at his collar before she snatched him down and interrupted him with a kiss. 

Sunwoo's eyes widened as he felt her mouth moving against his in the most sensual caresses that alighted his body with goosebumps, before he slid them closed and grasped her waist. He pressed her body against his, feeling her curves mold into his hard frame, and gasped when her hands trickled through his short dark strands, fingers combing along his skull while sending sparks skittering down his spine. 

"Princess," he mumbled against her lips, "you can't--and we shouldn't--"

She pressed a kiss along his jaw, "are you denying your princess's orders?" She nicked at his skin playfully, and a soft moan rumbled from the depths of his chest. So he kissed her with even more vigour, allowing himself to momentarily get lost in those dancely curves, in the weight of her flesh against his, and in the taste of her mouth lingering along his tongue. 

Later, they sat side by side, now closer than ever and heads tilted back to watch the stars. 

"So here's what we're going to do," Y/N turns to him then, "we're going to escape Atheera, together, when the sun sets over the horizon, and run away so that we can get married."

He reached out to brush her hair off her face, "I wish it could be that easy."

"It is that easy, if you want it to be."

Sunwoo shook his head, "as much as I'd like to say yes, you are still Princess of Atheera, and your duty lies with the people. You're not going to throw all that away just for a mere soldier."

"You are not just a mere soldier," she scowled.

"You know what I mean."

Y/n paused for a minute. Then, she sighed, "you're right. We need a better escape plan."

"Did you hear what I just said?"

"Yeah, I heard. And I'm not listening."

They continued to bicker under the stars, unaware of the moon gazing down upon their two figures with a smile on its face. Their love radiated off then in waves, a love so pure and rich with emotion that they would fight for what they believed was right, even if that meant raging war against the stars to make their love shine through. 

---------

Soooo this was originally supposed to be a Juyeon fic. But then as I wrote, I realized that Sunwoo would fit here os well. Plus, I wanted to write a Sunwoo-centered fic for a while so I hope you guys enjoy it!  Let me know if you’d like a part 2! Thanks to everyone who has read it this far! xx  Also, for those who keep up with “Deobi Playlist”, I upload every Monday and Thursday so make sure to turn on your notifications! :,) 

[imaginesbymk]

“There is no Goodbye.”

The Pacific One Shot

Summary: Nothing is more ironic than Eugene breaking up with you just for the sake of sparing you the heartbreak if he were to die at war. But when he’s lucky to return home to Mobile, his first mission is to find you. Will Eugene be able to win you back before someone else does?

Pairing: Eugene Sledge x Fem!Reader

Non Requested

Tags: angst/breakup, swearing, smoking, drinking, mentions of an ethnic slur + mentions of war violence

Word Count: 3,016

Author’s Note: song inspiration for this oneshot is wait by m83!!! i totally recommend this song cos its so beautiful!! pls give this a like/reblog and maybe some feedback!! <333

YOU were sick of crying in your pillow every night. You were aware of how puffy your eyes must have been by now, you acknowledged your friends who called and visited, checking on you, but not even that helped soothe the heartache in you. His name just kept echoing in your mind and replayed, finding their way into your sleep. You wished you hated Eugene Sledge, but deep down in your heart- you just couldn’t.

Three knocks came on your bedroom door. “Y/n, your food’s getting cold,” you heard your mother from the other side.

“I’m not hungry.” You couldn’t remember the amount of times you’ve used that as an excuse to stay where you were, depressed and heartbroken. 

Eugene broke up with you on a Sunday night. You two were dressed for the occasion; a dinner party was held at a grand convention center that was known and popular by several Alabamians. You wore the necklace Eugene got you as a gift, and you loved showing it off. In fact, you wore it every day to remind yourself, your family and your friends that Eugene Sledge was the love of your life. 

Later you noticed how strange he was acting the whole dinner, how quiet and tense he got so suddenly. His hand would slip away whenever you held it while walking, or when they were held under the table. It was like he was trying to hold something back, like a cat catching his tongue. Then, you found him outside, leaning against the stairway. 

“What is it, Eugene?” 

He paused every time he looked at you, how it pained him to say what he needed to say. Whether it was now or never, he leaves for the train in a couple of days.

“Wait a minute, Eugene,” You remembered your body turning cold as ice, but not from the night breeze. “Are you breaking up with me?”

Oh how you wished he was kidding, but the look on his face read that he wasn’t in the slightest. He was joining the marines corps, despite his heart murmur and his father and brother encouraging him to go to college instead. He flunked out of his classes on purpose just to enlist, and since only God knows what fate lies ahead, he felt it was best to put a stop to the relationship.

It wasn’t your right to be angry about his choices sometimes. He was in his twenties now, old enough to make up his mind. He was fighting for everyone’s freedom, after all, which is probably the bravest thing Eugene is doing. However, you didn’t understand why. Eugene was a believer, he believed in God and miracles. He asked God to send him a miracle through prayer in his own time, and they were answered in the form of you. So why couldn’t he believe in the stable relationship you both can still have even when he’s off to fight?

As expected, you didn’t take it too well. Right there, you broke down in front of him. Eugene walked over and reached his hand out to touch your shoulder, but you shoved him away. 

“I’m sorry,” he said softly. You angrily ripped the necklace off of you and threw it at him before running off in tears. He never chased after you.

You dared not to go back inside the dining hall where your family and friends were, as well as his, so you walked home by yourself without waiting for anyone to catch up with you. He was going mad, you bet. Enlisting in the marines was one thing, but calling it quits on your relationship?

That was the last time you saw Eugene. He didn’t wait to see if you would turn up at the train station, begging him to have a change of heart. He never saw you there, and he boarded the train to California.

What were you more upset about: the love of your life dumping you, or the chances of the love of your life dying?

THE year was now 1945, and Eugene sat in the passenger seat in Sid’s mobile when he picked him up from the station. 

The Japanese surrendered, and the boys back at the islands held a celebration with drinking, bonfires and loud music. Eugene, Snafu and Burgin sat on the rocks, watching the night sky, contemplating their return to home.

Victory Day was now nighttime, Eugene blew out smoke from his pipe, counting the stars. His tiny bible that was pocketed in his dungarees was pulled out, using the distant lit fires as a light to read through the tallied marks from the book of Genesis to Thessalonians, then out came a piece of paper that fell onto his lap. 

He picked it up and unfolded it, taking another puff from his pipe. Eugene reads the first two words. 

Dear y/n

The letter was never delivered to you because it was a letter Eugene had never sent, in fact it was never finished. He never got his first sentence down as they were ordered to get their gear ready to move down Okinawa. He never wrote a letter to you at all for the rest of his time serving, because he knew he wouldn’t be receiving one back.

Snafu slapped him awake one night and told him to shut up because he kept saying your name in his sleep. Eugene sounded desperate and panicked when he said it, too, and if the volume increased, it would have given away their spot. The marine was lucky it was a slap in the face rather than a bullet to the skull. 

The next day, Snafu asked Eugene for two things: a light, and who “y/n” was.

“She was my girl,” Eugene handed a lighter to Snafu to light his cigarette.

“Was.”

“I couldn’t stand the thought of leaving her at home just for a man in uniform to come to her door to tell her I’ve been KIA.”

“Shit, so you dumped her?” Snafu grins. “Should of given her to me, Sledgehammer.”

Eugene didn’t laugh. It was an inappropriate joke, no surprise coming from Snafu himself. He sat in the filth in silence, his bloodied and dirty hands holding your gold necklace that you threw at him. He brought it with him to war, and kept it as a bookmark in his Bible.

Eugene’s home was the same as he had left it, he knew that when Sid pulled up at the long pathway at the gates. Georgia cottage was indeed a sight, and Eugene loved it so much as a child. It was spacious with nature and trees to walk his dog, a forest down the road to go hunting and fishing with his father, a meadow where he would take you on a warm day.

Sid sat in the parked car for a few moments, Eugene hadn't started walking to the front door just yet. “I visited her,” Sid broke the silence. “Just like I promised.”

Eugene had to ask, “How is she?”

“I was starting to think she had forgotten about you... that was until I showed up at her door,” he replies. “It was tense, but she’s doing all right.”

Eugene nods, smiling a bit. He trusted his best friend to check up on you for him. At least you were doing fine, according to Sid’s words. "No crying?”

“She don’t cry no more. I introduced her to Mary Houston and invited her to my wedding- if that’s alright with you.”

He chuckled, making a face. “Why would I not be? It’s your wedding, you greaser.”

“Well one, and you should probably take my word for it, Y/N still hates your guts,” he said. “And two, whether or not she speaks to you at all on my wedding day, at least I’ll have you there as my best man.” Sid noticed the look on his best friend’s face. “There’s the O.O.M ball coming up. Y/n’s gonna be there.”

He smiles at him. “See you later?”

“Welcome home, Eugene.” And he drives off, prompting Eugene to reunite with his parents.

[x]

SHOWING up to the O.O.M ball immediately made you feel bummed. You showed up without a date. You shouldn’t have the right to feel bummed, anyway. You turned down any guy that had asked you. You could have said yes, but something in your heart was telling you no, and you couldn’t figure out what it was. 

Sighing, you suddenly didn’t feel like going to the bar for a second drink, and you just didn’t like waiting until your friends weren’t with their dates to go up to talk to them, so you found yourself heading outside to the front. It’s not like you could escape the guests, as tables and chairs were set outside occupied with more people, and even more people standing around and chatting with their friends.

You leaned over a tree where you felt like no one could see you for approach, being able to hear the loud music from the inside. But for what? You could just leave and say you felt sick. What were you waiting for? 

Several years had gone by since he left, and nothing about you has changed. Your hair grew a bit after a slight trim, and so has your wardrobe. Your dress was pretty expensive, and no one complimented it. You just needed someone to come up to you and say- 

“You look beautiful.” 

You spun around, knowing that Southern accent all too well. Not a lot of alcohol was consumed, so asking yourself if you drank too much that you started to see and hear things was out of the question. How did he know where to find you? How was he able to sneak up on you like how he used to as a surprise? He’d always do that, then pick you up and spin you around with joy. But this time, he stood in front of you, gazing at you like a painting.

Your vision started blurring.

“Y/n?” he thought you were having a stroke in front of him, and he reached out his hand. “Y/n?”

“Gimme a minute.” You breathed heavily, gripping the tree for support. Maybe you were about to faint in shock. After picking up your senses, you were able to respond. “Eugene,” you said softly. “You’re here.”

He nodded. “In the flesh.” You really couldn’t believe it. Maybe you were seeing and hearing things. But he was here. Eugene Sledge was really here, standing before you, and not a scratch on his face. His hair was fixed, too, and you could tell he was now in greater shape.

“How was...” you felt like you shouldn’t ask for so many reasons. “I mean, you made it. You’re home.”

“At last,” he answered, placing his wooden pipe in his mouth. “What are you doing all the way over here? Your date’s probably searching all of Mobile for you.”

“I don’t have a date,” you shook your head. “I mean, I came alone. I didn’t bring anyone.”

“You too?” he blew out smoke.

“Yeah. Um-” all it took was for you to breath in and crunch your nose from the awful stench of nicotine that everyone was so used to. “Since when did you start smoking?” 

He shrugged. “Since I killed my first Jap. Helps me calm down.”

"Well... I’m talking to you and you’re blowing smoke right in my face.”

Eugene nodded, taking the pipe out. “Sorry. How have you been?”

“Good.”

Eugene furrowed his brows. “That’s it? Just good?”

“I mean, what else would you expect me to say?”

“You’ve completed your education, you’re engaged, you and your partner are buying a house?”

“Jesus, Eugene. It’s way too early for that. I can’t even drive.”

“I’m kidding. I can only assume you’re in complete shock. I can’t say I’m not surprised,” Eugene says. “I can also assume you hated me as soon as you threw the necklace I gave you right at me.”

“And I still hate you.”

He looks at you, scoffing. “Is that right?”

“Yes,” you folded your arms. “You dump me and leave to join the marine corps, I wrote you a letter on your birthday and you never wrote back, every time I see your parents at the market they look at me like I’m the face of death. You shouldn’t have come here, I was doing just fine.”

“Really?” Eugene raised his eyebrows. The nonsense coming out that mouth. If only Eugene could kiss them shut. "All right. Heard you spoke with Sid.”

“Yeah, and? He invited me to his wedding."

“And he asked me to be his best man. So you might as well hold in your punch until the wedding is over.”

Your blood started to boil. Maybe you haven’t changed, but the war did indeed change the hell out of him. This attitude he carried wasn’t impressing you one bit. “What the hell’s your problem?”

“My problem? I’m trying to have a conversation with you, y/n.”

“And you’re acting as if I’m the reason you dumped me.”

“I had my reasons,” he spoke back,

“Damn you, Eugene Sledge!” you slapped him repeatedly on his chest and shoulder. “Damn you for hurting me like that! Damn you for not writing to me! Damn you for leaving me!”

You cried out, as he simply stared and did his best to restrain your arms away from hitting him once more. 

He never spoke a word until you calmed down. Then, you realized... “Oh God, Eugene. I’m so sorry,” you gasp. “I would never lay a hand on you.”

“A Jap tried to kill me with a bayonet,” Eugene said. “I kinda had that slap coming.”

You let a tear fall down your cheek, and you looked down so Eugene wouldn’t be able to notice, but he was smart enough to know. “Baby... it’s okay. I’m here now.” He pulled you close and held you. You haven’t felt his touch since that night. You were overcome with the nostalgia during the happy times, and even the sad times. He would hold you like you were gonna slip right out of his hands.

“I’ve missed you so much, y/n. There hasn’t been a night where I haven’t dreamt about you, where I would die, or where I would watch you marry a man who doesn’t know you the way I do.”

“Eugene... you broke my heart and just stomped on it like mud.”

“And you had every right to be hurt, but that was never my intention, I just did what I thought was the right thing.” He played with the curls in your hair and kissed you softly on your temple.

It wasn’t like it was a last minute decision. Regardless his heart murmur was there or not, he wasn’t going to stay home and attend classes. Breaking up with you wasn’t last minute, either. 

“I guess I should have been more understanding,” you admit, leaning back against the tree. 

“I spent nights trying to come up with what I was going to say, and when I was planning on saying it. I used to worry about the murmur, if I’d remember to feed Deacon, or telling my Mother about my plans for the future.”

“You weren’t sure about any of those things, Gene.”

“Seeing your face that night made me realize I’m never going to love anyone else the way I love you,” Eugene shook his head slowly. “I was definitely sure about that.”

“Loved,” you correct him.

“No, y/n. Love. I still love you, more than the stars reach the apex of this goddamn universe. I don’t think I’m ever gonna stop loving you. You’re really the answer God has given me after endless nights of praying for something good.”

“Then why didn’t you write me?”

“I had to find a way to move on. If it distracted me from fighting, I would have been as good as dead. Something in me died from the war, but the feelings I have for you are still here.”

You couldn’t help but smile a bit. “I love you more, Eugene.”

“So I hope it’s not too late to ask this,” Eugene said. “Miss Y/N Y/L/N, are you seeing anyone?”

You shook your head.

He raised his brows. “So for nearly four years, you haven’t been seeing anyone? Not one fella?”

“I tried to. I mean, I kept thinking you slept with a nurse.”

“Women weren’t even in my corner of the pacific, and nurses were there to do their jobs. Besides,” Eugene smiled. “I’d rather come home to the most beautiful girl I’ve ever known in Mobile.”

“Mary Houston?”

Eugene laughs. “I was talking about you. At least you’re humble.” He laughed harder when you started playfully slapping him on the chest repeatedly again. “Hey! But there’s no one I’d rather be with. I’m willing to start over, maybe pick up where we left off.”

“I would love that.” 

Eugene reached in his tux pocket, pulling out the golden necklace you loved wearing. “I believe this belongs to you.” He walked behind you, and began wrapping the necklace around your neck, clipping the lock together in place. “Y’know, after throwing it right at my face?”

“Sorry,” you blushed. “Don’t ever do that again; saying goodbye.”

“There is no goodbye.” He turned your head to face him using his finger under your chin. “There never was, just the old hello.”

You smiled again. 

“I’m gonna kiss you now.” He pulls you close to him. “Is that all right?”

“You can kiss me whenever you feel like it, Gene.” And you wouldn’t mind it one bit.

“Yes, ma’am.” And he leans in, kissing you almost a dozen times now, the overcoming nostalgia of the good time hitting once more. “And once I’m done kissing the daylights outta you, I’m bringing you inside. It’s been a while since I’ve danced with the love of my life.”

the end

[heyyyharry]

Chapter 13: Last Dance

(from ‘The Winter and The Crown’)

…in which there’s a masquerade ball.

Word count: 3.5k

AU: queen!y/n, commander!harry

Description: Y/N and Harry set off on a new adventure to find ‘the cure’ for an ancient curse, meanwhile, the enemies are plotting to take her kingdom.

Wattpad link (Reyna as Y/N aka Peach)

A/N: 

GUYS, TRUST ME! LISTEN TO THIS WHILE READING

Also, if you've read my other stories, please let me know in my inbox:

which genre do you think I write better at? 

Contemporary romance (Flatmate, My Girl), or Fantasy romance/Historical romance (TCTM, In Another Life), or Fantasy/mystery with romance as a side plot (TCTM2)?

Thank you! :)

Love, Allie.

.

.

.

Harry had sat by the window from when the sun started setting. He watched the shadow at his feet dissolve into blackness, until the stars came out and pallid moonlight washed over the room.

A maid came to light a fire. She asked if he needed anything. He gave her no response, just a flick of his wrist to dismiss her. He could feel her eyes sweep over him as she left. He didn’t care. He knew what the servants in the castle had been whispering about him. People always had a lot to say when they only knew half the story. Which was why Harry hadn’t spoken to anyone since he’d come back. Not even Kenny and Stefan, whom he’d known his whole life. They could sympathise. However, they would never truly understand what he’d gone through.

Though the lake had obliterated all the scars on his skin, he could still feel the pressure of the blade buried deep in his side whenever he thought about the day of the ambush. He’d lost so much since then. Dying and coming back to life only to live like a ghost. Getting his memory back didn’t suddenly make it all better.

A knock on the door disturbed his thoughts. He whipped around just in time as the door creaked open, and Mary poked her head in. Witch, he thought, rising fast from his chair. He remembered being chained up in a cell, and the only thing he’d seen had been her one eye glowing in the dark as she cursed him with her evil spells. He regretted having felt sorry for her once. He should have killed her when he’d got a chance.

“Don’t be scared,” she said, lifting a hand as though she was approaching a prey animal. “I just want to talk.”

“I’m not scared of you,” he told her, his voice rough. “You should be scared because it takes everything in me not to put my hands round your neck right now.”

Mary kept a considerable distance between them as she stopped and swallowed hard. “I’m very sorry about everything you’ve gone through. You know I was forced to do that.”

“No, you chose to do that. You chose to serve Calanthe.”

“I did,” Mary sighed. “I’d lost my sisters. They were all I had. And I blamed Y/N for it. When I came to Calanthe, I was desperate and mourning. But I swear I’m a better person now. I didn’t mean to hurt so many people.”

Harry scoffed, waving towards the door. “You’re not making this any better. Just get out.”

Mary didn’t move. She looked even more determined to get her apology across. “I know I’ve caused a lot of pain for everyone here. That’s not my intention anymore. I just want this war to be over and for everyone to be safe.”

Harry flopped back into his chair, looking out of the window with his chin on his knuckles. If he didn’t acknowledge her presence, hopefully she’d leave him alone.

It didn’t work.

“Something’s bothering you,” she said.

“Yes, I’m still waiting for it to stop talking to me.”

Mary exhaled, ignoring the insult. “It’s the Queen, isn’t it? Because of her bond with the King.” Despite there being no answer or even a reaction, Mary still went on, “I think...it’s for the best, if you just...let her go.”

Harry stiffened. Slowly, he turned to her, appalled. “What?”

“I know you’ll hate me even more after I tell you this,” she said. “But it’s impossible to compete with someone she’s been looking for from lifetime to lifetime. Fate is cruel, but it always does its job. It always brings soulmates back together.”

“I don’t...understand.”

Mary studied Harry with her wide eye, as if she could not figure out why he seemed confused. Then, it occurred to both of them that Y/N hadn’t been completely honest with him.

“She hasn’t told you,” Mary mumbled, more to herself.

“Told me what?”

Harry thought of Y/N’s conversation with the deer before they’d followed it out of the woods. It must have told her more than she’d revealed to him.

Why did his love have to hide the truth from him? Was it because she didn’t trust him? Or because she didn’t think he could handle it? Or was it because she couldn’t believe it herself?

“Then I think you should hear it from her,” Mary said fast.

Harry got to his feet right as she was about to leave. “Tell me.”

Reluctantly, she looked back at him over her shoulder.

“Please,” he added, desperate.

She pondered for a moment before letting go of a heavy sigh. Both of them knew she’d regret this afterwards, and yet she didn’t have it in her to just stay silent.

“All I can say to you is that…” she wet her lip, “Y/N and Lance have a special kind of bond. Two people need years to build such a connection, but those two had already got it when they first met. You may think you understand her, but you’ll never know her as well as he does. And if she ends up choosing you, she’ll probably spend another lifetime missing him.”

Harry was trying to process all that when Mary spun on her heels and slipped out of the room as quietly as she’d entered. The door shut with a soft ‘thud’, and Harry stood there, staring at it with his heart and thoughts racing.

Although he could not make sense of what the witch had just told him, the ball of fear within him grew until his chest felt like it might combust. He fell back into his chair. The moon outside his window was round and high above the empty branches. Harry contemplated it as he recalled the dreams Y/N had told him.

The Moon Lady and the Man in Black.

The witch and the King.

The winter and the crown.

He twisted her gold ring around his finger, agitated. “Fate,” he mumbled to himself.

When the door was opened for the third time, it was Y/N who came in. Harry pressed his lips into a smile, hoping she wouldn’t notice something was wrong. She always noticed. That was the problem.

She put her hands on her hips and surveyed the room before taking him in with a look of concern. “The maid said you’d been here all day. Are you not feeling well?”

“I’m good,” he lied. “I’m just trying to get familiar with all these changes. How was the meeting?”

She stood by the fireplace, folding her arms across her chest and resting her forehead against the wall. “It was...interesting. Soon the news will arrive at Theros, so we’re bracing for the worst. Lance speculated that this was all Calanthe’s plan. She needed a reason to invade the North.”

“She had her most trusted advisor murdered?”

Y/N shrugged. “You don’t think she’s capable of it?”

“We’ve met her, Peach. She’s just a girl.”

“We don’t know her.”

Harry got up from his chair and walked over to stand in front of Y/N. He raked his fingers through his hair and released a sigh. “I can’t imagine her being so cruel and calculated. They’re using her.”

“What do you mean? Who?”

“The Monks. Taking me was their idea. I could vaguely remember them telling her what to do to me. Would you like to hear my theory?”

Y/N nodded, looking intrigued.

“They’ve got her believing that she’s special,” Harry said. “That she’s the chosen one, so she’d trust them and let them guide her. When the war’s over and she’s won, they’ll find a way to get rid of her. They wanted your father, your uncle, and your brother dead. How hard would it be to take down Calanthe?”

Y/N chewed her bottom lip as she averted her troublesome eyes. She seemed to ponder over his speculation for a long moment before letting go of a short breath. “Let’s not speak of it. I’ll discuss it with Lance in the morning.”

Harry knew he was doomed when even the King’s name made his stomach twist. “We can talk about it if you want to. I don’t mind,” he said.

She shook her head. “I do, Harry. I’m tired. I just want to not think about it for a second.” Seeing the bafflement on his face, she smiled and touched his cheek.

“I want to help,” he mumbled.

“I know,” she sighed. “And I’m grateful for your help. I just don’t want to feel like a queen when we’re alone. We can talk about anything, not war and death.”

Harry nodded as he placed with hands on her hips, pulling her in. She wrapped her arms around his neck. He traced the flame’s shadow on her cheek as she smiled, content. He hated that they could be holding each other, and there’d still be plenty of distance between them.

“I love you,” he said.

“I love you, too,” she said, squinting her eyes. She knew there was more to it.

He took a deep breath. “I need you to be completely honest with me.”

“All right.”

“Do you love him?”

Y/N froze for a second as she blinked blankly. “What? Don’t be ridiculous.”

“I’m serious, Peach.” He brushed her hair out of her face. “There’s no right or wrong answer. I just want to know how you feel. I’m not good at reading people, and lately I’ve been having a hard time trying to figure you out. I’m not saying this to make you feel bad, my love. I love you. And I want you to be happy so I must hear it from you. Do you love him?”

Harry’s heart thudded wildly in his chest as Y/N worked her jaw for a reply. “I’m afraid of losing him,” she said at last. “He’s become a part of me. Perhaps he’s always been. So I guess I do love him. Just not the way he wants me to. Not the way he deserves to be loved.”

Though that wasn’t the answer Harry had expected or the answer he wanted to hear. For him it could only be yes or no. He was surprised yet not saddened by it. He even felt quite hopeful that she still trusted him to say what she really felt. He might not have all of her now with everything they were going through. However, he could still get her back.

“He’s a good man,” Harry said.

Y/N’s doubtful eyes scrutinised him. “You’re not mad at me, are you?”

“No,” he chuckled and kissed her forehead. “I love you. And I want you to be happy.”

The corner of her lips raised nonchalantly. “I will be again, eventually. But you do make this living hell a lot better.”

Harry tossed his head back and laughed. Y/N laughed, too. He’d missed that heavenly sound. Why should he believe anything Mary had said? She’d nearly killed him and sabotaged what he had with Y/N twice. So she should be the last person he should listen to.

Right?

“Oh, there will be a ball tomorrow night,” Y/N said, fixing his hair with a big grin on her face.

“Really?”

“Yes. A masquerade ball.”

Harry never liked dancing. However, he knew she did, and so he was excited about this ball. “But,” he rubbed his chin, “is it insensitive to hold a ball after what happened?”

Y/N’s smile faded, making Harry feel terrible for ruining one rare moment of happiness for her.

“George Wallace’s death was a week ago,” she said, her brows knitted. “And the fact that people in court are still talking about it and assuming that they’re in danger is a great concern for me. I need to show my subjects that we’re not living in fear. Besides,” she gave a half shrug, “dancing makes me happy.”

Harry chuckled, shaking his head. “Well, whatever makes you happy, Your Majesty.”

Y/N giggled as she waved off his comment. “Stop teasing. You know you love me.”

“Unfortunately.”

“Mmmm.” She leaned in and kissed him on the lips.

Suddenly, the door burst open, and a breathless guard stuck his head in right as Y/N and Harry jumped away from each other.

“Your Majesty.”

“What?” Y/N breathed, sounding annoyed. Her cheeks were still red, and Harry couldn’t help but smile into his fist.

“His Majesty requested for your attendance,” the guard said.

Y/N immediately looked to Harry. The apologetic stare she was giving him had said it all.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Your Majesty,” he said, took her hand and kissed it once.

“The ball,” she mouthed at him. And then she was gone.

.

.

.

Music swelled as the orchestra was readying for the first number. Y/N watched the queue of stragglers seeking admittance at the entrance, amused by their excitement, which was evident even though their expressions were hidden behind their masks. Some even had painted faces, vying to outdo the splendour of the palace.

“May I have this dance?” A man dressed in dark blue stretched his hand out to Jo. With an uncomfortable smile, she was whisked onto the crowded dance floor. Y/N had noticed that Jo seemed distracted tonight. She’d keep seeking the room for someone. Y/N’s curiosity was piqued. Could it be possible that Jo was looking for Lance? Could something had happened between Jo and Lance while she’d been away?

She pushed the thought to the back of her mind, straining her eyes as she tried to locate Harry among the colourful masks. All of the ladies had found their dance partners. Their dresses fluttered as they twirled like snowflakes in the wind. Where was he? He’d said he’d be here, and he wouldn’t break his promise.

“Why is the prettiest girl in the room sitting this dance out?”

“Lance!” Y/N flinched, pressing a palm against her chest as Lance tapped the back of her chair and flopped down into the one beside her. He was dressed in a fine suit of blackest wool, impeccably tailored to his frame. A dark mask obscured his face from forehead to nose. Tiny jet beads sparkled at the edges.

He offered a quick smile. “How do you know? I’m wearing a mask.”

Y/N scoffed as she rolled her eyes. She was grateful he was being his snarky self and not the person who’d told her he’d loved her two nights ago. Still, those words were all she could hear whenever she looked at him.

“Even Jo’s dancing,” he pointed out.

“Speaking of Jo, I want to ask you something,” she said, fixing her gold mask. Even with a mask on, she still wasn’t able to handle the weigh of his stare. “Is there something between you and Jo? She’s been distracted.”

Lance smirked. “Why do you assume I have something to do with her being distracted?”

“I don’t know. You were probably flirting with all the maids while I was gone,” she joked.

Lance breathed out a casual laugh. “I was flirting with your entire library, actually. In fact, I have another theory–”

“Please. Not here,” she said, pouting. “I’d like to be a normal girl for just one night.”

Lance arched an eyebrow as he eyed her up and down. “Said the only lady here not dancing.”

“You’re obnoxious.” She rolled her eyes, unable to stop beaming.

Lance sucked in a breath. He stood up and straightened his back with a hand stretched toward her. She looked up, amused.

“Dance with me. You’re being embarrassing right now,” he said, glancing at their feet as if surprised to find them staying still.

Y/N gave a nod as she got up, her fingers sliding into his outstretched hand, which was cold and rough yet familiar. For a second, she caught a glimpse of them standing in that cave. The dream in which he’d visited her had felt so real. It’d felt like this. She glanced up to meet his questioning eyes. She reassured him with a tight smile and followed him to the centre of the room.

A new tune began. She snaked her free arm up his shoulder, holding her breath as his other hand came to rest at her waist. She once again swept her eyes across the room for Harry. Her heart sank when she couldn’t find him. He hated dancing. Perhaps he’d changed his mind at the last minute and decided not to join. She’d check on him after this dance.

“My eyes are here,” Lance said.

Y/N jolted, feeling glad that he couldn’t see her blushing. “Pardon me.”

“It’s all right.” He laced his fingers with hers. His hand at her waist was warm and sure. A ribbon of comfort unravelled inside her, and she allowed Harry to be absent from her mind for this tune.

Lance skillfully led her through the familiar steps, his smile bright. “Not bad,” he said, making her laugh.

“Is that how you compliment someone?”

“My apology, Your Majesty. I assumed Northerners didn’t have fun.”

“You’re right.” Y/N rolled her eyes. “I’m miserable right now. I cannot wait for this to be over.” As soon as she’d said it, she feared he’d take her joke the wrong way. Thankfully, he tossed his head back and laughed. She rarely got to hear Lance laugh, so her heart vibrated with excitement.

“Don’t worry,” he said, tilting his head. “This will be our first and last dance.”

She did not ask what he meant.

As the song came to an end, Lance drew her in, so close she could feel the heat of his chest. Behind the mask, his eyes burned down at her. The crowd broke into applause for the orchestra as they broke apart.

He reached out and pushed aside a loose curl behind her ear. His thumb traced lightly across her cheek. Before she could thank him for dancing with her, he spun on his heels and slipped into the crowd of courtiers.

.

.

.

“Argh!” Calanthe charged, swinging her sword in a furious arc. The soldier cooly stepped into his charge, catching the descending sword with his own. He twisted and wrenched upward with all his strength. The sword flew out of Calanthe’s hand. She grabbed for it frantically, but her opponent snatched it out of the air.

“Enough!” shouted a gruff powerful voice.

Calanthe whirled and dropped the sword to her feet, catching her breath. Vossler, the leader of The Monks, appeared like a phantom. His gaze trailed from Calanthe’s face to her weapon on the ground. He didn’t need to say a word to describe how disappointed he was. She knew that look. She’d received it her whole life from everyone she’d ever met. Ever since she’d taken the throne, no one had dared to look at her like that except for Vossler. He reminded her of her father. She’d give anything to impress him.

“Your Majesty,” he said, dragging the title with an agitated tone. “I told you that sword-fighting was very similar to dancing. You have to feel, not think.”

“I know, I know,” she muttered, bending down to pick up the sword. Vossler kicked it out of her reach before she could close her fingers around the hilt. Her guards drew their swords. She lifted a hand to tell them to stay where they were.

Vossler held her stare as if challenging her to punish him for disrespecting the Queen. She knew she couldn’t. People feared her because they feared The Monks. She hated that. Still, she was the chosen one. Vossler would have no choice but to kneel at her feet when she became the ruler of one hundred kingdoms.

“You can’t rule when even a child could take the sword from you,” he said as if he could read her thoughts.

She lifted her chin proudly despite the fact that her fingers were still trembling. “I’m tired. I’ll practice again tomorrow.”

Vossler regarded her with a raised eyebrow. His lips twitched in a despicable manner. “Very well. You should get some rest, Your Majesty. Get all the rest you need. Why should you worry about a nineteen-year-old, whose best friend is her sword, who murdered her own brother in a duel, brought someone back from the dead, and survived the North Mountain?”

Calanthe was frozen in place, too shocked to react. “She survived?”

“She found the lake.”

“Fuck!” Calanthe screamed into her hands. “The Mountain was supposed to kill her!”

“The witch didn’t tell us the whole truth,” Vossler said. To Calanthe’s surprise, he sounded as calm as ever. She was about to ask him what the witch had been hiding from them when he flicked his wrist, and a servant hurried to retrieve Calanthe’s sword.

“Your Majesty?” he said, his eyes piercing at Calanthe.

The wind whipped by, blowing strands of hair across her face. She bit the inside of her cheek, glared back at the servants who were observing her, making her feel like less than a queen she was.

She took a deep breath, then grabbed the weapon. “Again.”

[hxseok-honee]

peripeteia | part 20

a/n : AHHHH I HOPE YOU GUYS LIKE THIS PLS LMK WHAT YOU THINK also this is the longest thing ive ever written ever im so tired it took all week so i hope its good!

previous | next

tag list !!

@lilacdreams-00 @deepseavibez @heonsbebe @robinbaum143 @lys009 @catbugsugarpea @nogitsune-sama @hobisanie @cosmicdaylight @butterflylion @heyitsnguyen @x-useobwa-x @instantspot​@livelovesurfdreams @nam-jonie​ @bubblegumcat229​ @my-chaos-in-stars​@gustavkonrad @siredjoonie​ @nebula-winter​ @krissykiwi​ @theunknowncryptid​ @celiasoti​ @taeshuworld​ @dreamcatcherjiah​ @sterynlis​ @bitchynightmarepost​@coffeeismylife28 @ttriviaseok​ @wordsbywriters​ @insaisissables​@stresedsyllable @bbyjoonies​ @irenebutfancier​ @smarshere​ @xonfusedsoul​ @chocobetterknot​

______________________________

Y/n is sitting down by the Black Lake when she feels herself becoming faint. A cold sweat breaks on her skin just as her brain starts to feel foggy, and she knows it’s time. It was normal for students to skip class and find a comfortable place to wait on their Clock Day -- Hoseok had told her that it feels a lot like a dream, one that leaves you unable to move or do much of anything until the process is complete, and it was only after a few unlucky souls had fainted in class or on the stairs that professors started allowing students to take the day off in order to ensure everyone’s safety. Of course, lots of students still had the unfortunate experience of being caught off guard in corridors or on the stairs while trying to find a safe place to sit until it passed, so Y/n had traveled in an especially hurried manner while she was coming down to the lake. Luckily she’d picked a great time to settle down because not even ten minutes had passed since she’d arrived. She had been trying not to think of Namjoon on a day like this, but she can’t help that her only thought when she starts to feel sick is that she wished he were there with her.

The cold sweat turns to extreme warmth suddenly and almost violently, and she has to steady herself by putting a hand in the grass and breathing deeply until the world stops spinning. She can tell the edges of her vision are leaving her, the impending blackout looming dangerously close. Overcome by the heat sticking to her like a thousand burning hot knives, she starts to crawl over to the edge of the lake, desperate for something to cool her skin. She makes it there, but not quite with enough time to do anything else. The last thing she sees is her own reflection in the water beneath her. The sight of her eyes clouding over completely -- reminding her not coincidentally of the murky color her divination professor’s eyes turn when overtaken by a vision -- is all that’s left before her eyesight is completely lost and she’s forced to surrender to fate’s will.

-- 

The darkness in Y/n’s mind stirs, and she’s filled with the sensation of free-falling. As she drops through space with no end in sight, a small gray dot appears from below. It grows as she approaches it, transforming into a cloud of smoke very rapidly and enveloping her completely as she passes through it. She can feel that this cloud is meant to steady her, slowing her movement until she’s no longer falling, instead floating -- where she’s headed, she has no idea, but as long as she’s no longer falling to her death, she’s happy. 

The smoke around Y/n begins to clear, and she notes that her feet are placed gently on hard ground, not far from where she’d been floating for those few moments. The rest of the smoke fades away, the last wisps of it sticking to her surroundings in order to solidify the world she’s landed in. She realizes immediately that she’s standing in the Hospital Wing, only noticing that everything around her is gray and colorless, much like a memory, as an afterthought.

Glancing around, she finds that all of the beds are unoccupied except for the last one on the left side. The curtains are drawn, and Y/n can hear Madame Pomfrey rustling around inside, the matron’s voice carrying over to Y/n. The student inside, a young male student by the sound of it, is whimpering slightly. As Y/n approaches the curtain, she notes that in between noises, he’s breathing heavily, almost sighing in pain.

“It’s alright dear, it’ll pass in no time, I swear it -- oh, there’s no use. Poor boy can’t even hear me.” Pomfrey pushes the curtain out of her way as she exits, carrying a small tub. Y/n watches her walk across the room to a sink, where she pulls a wet towel from the tub and wrings it out, dumping what looks like ice water down the drain when she’s done. Humming softly, Y/n glances back at the curtain and sees it’s been left slightly open, allowing her access to the student inside. 

When she peers in, she’s met with the sight of Namjoon -- more specifically, an 11-year-old Namjoon -- lying in the bed, looking much too small and much too ill. 

No, he’s not sick. He just looks sick.

The thought crosses Y/n’s mind when she takes him in fully -- when she takes in his eyes. Clouded over completely, staring up at the ceiling as if lost in time, Namjoon is drenched in sweat and is letting out small, periodic whimpers of pain, but he has no idea. He’s experiencing his Clock Day, and there’s no way for him to know how he looks until it’s passed. 

Approaching him slowly, Y/n tries to process the information alongside everything she’d believed about Namjoon’s soulmate experience up until this moment. If he’d always known who his soulmate was -- if he’d known since first year -- why hadn’t he said anything? Why had he let everyone believe he was only just having his Clock Day? Why was he hiding his soulmate from them? 

Standing over him, observing the emptiness in his gaze and wondering if that’s how she looked right now, somewhere outside of all of this, she can’t help but bring the back of her hand up to the side of his face -- he was just a kid. He had no idea of the man he’d become. 

The moment her fingers graze over his cheek, sticky with sweat and unbearable heat, his whimpering stops and his shoulders start to fall, all the tension in them leaving. His eyes shut slowly, and a long sigh leaves him. A chill runs down Y/n’s spine, and she feels a deep panic forming in her chest -- had she hurt him? Was she not supposed to touch him? Did she just affect something and change the future in some way? 

Just as she’s starting to truly fall into a pit of despair, Namjoon’s eyes are opening, his eyelashes flickering as he readjusts to the light of the room. His eyes are no longer clouded, but he’s still staring off into distance, trying to process what he’d just discovered. Y/n sits in the armchair beside his bed, watching intently as he blinks a few times before sighing. He looks too serious for a first year.

Hobi was right. No child should ever have to go through this.

The sound of the Hospital Wing doors slamming open shatters the moment of contemplation, prompting Namjoon to crane his neck to try to see past the curtain. Y/n finds herself doing the same. She can hear Pomfrey’s stern reminder for quiet, followed by footsteps -- only one pair, but they’re very hurried, almost a full run. The curtain flies open, and all of the breath in Y/n’s lungs leaves her in an instant.

She’s staring at herself -- a smaller, cuter version of herself. A version of herself that remembers this day with striking clarity. Hearing from Hoseok that Namjoon had felt sick that morning and gone to the Hospital Wing just as dawn had broken, 11-year-old Y/n had raced down to see him, skipping first hour, completely unconcerned with anything that wasn’t the boy lying in bed before her. 17-year-old Y/n remembers the fear that had taken her younger self, her head filled with thoughts of only Kim Namjoon, the smart but troublesome boy she’d met on the train just a few months prior. Y/n remembers the pain that had filled her that day, wanting nothing but to be next to him, and she’s hit with a sudden realization.

Whipping her gaze around to watch Namjoon, she sees that he has yet to say anything to her younger self, simply gazing at her with an unreadable expression on his face. It’s one of immense turmoil, but there’s a glimpse of something else just underneath his pain -- something that looks a lot like hope.

“What? Why are you looking at me like that?” Y/n’s watches the girl with her own face make her way slowly over to Namjoon, setting her bag on the ground before standing beside him. Namjoon remains silent, just watching her -- taking her in with eyes that first year Y/n had never seen before. Taking her in with eyes that she would continue to see over the years but never understand -- eyes that could only start to make sense to 17-year-old Y/n in this moment.

She watches -- the pieces of Kim Namjoon starting to fit together in her mind -- as her younger self becomes uncomfortable under her friend’s gaze and breaks it by reaching out and taking his small hand in her equally tiny one. Y/n watches -- her memories of Kim Namjoon finally forming one coherent vision in her mind -- as young Namjoon stares down at their interlocked hands, her palm sitting perfectly in his, before looking up at her, a smile lingering on the edges of his mouth.

Y/n watches as one of her most prominent memories of Namjoon takes form before her eyes, finally making sense after six years. Staring down into her lap, she tries to make sense of every other memory of him the stands out, but she realizes fairly quickly that there’s no use. Every memory of Namjoon stands out to her. Every single one. Closing her eyes, she lets out a deep sigh, her brain an endless mess of smoke and confusion. 

--

When she opens her eyes, she’s no longer in the Hospital Wing. Everything is still gray, but it’s too dark to tell exactly where she is. She can, however tell that she’s sitting on the edge of something soft -- something that reminds her of her bed. It takes a few moments for her eyes to adjust, but she’s able to see eventually that she’s sitting in a bedroom. However, it isn’t her own.

Skimming her fingers along the blanket around her, it takes no less than ten seconds to find him. Namjoon is sleeping beside her, looking much taller but not much older.

Third year. He grew a foot over summer holiday but still had the face of a kid. 

Glancing over at the bed across from her, she confirms that she has the right time when she sees a blond Hoseok -- an experiment they had all regretted participating in -- fast asleep, his mouth hanging open and his limbs all over the place. 

Returning her gaze to a 13-year-old Namjoon, Y/n notices with concern that he’s frowning deeply in his sleep, small sighs reaching her ears every few seconds. Leaning in to see him more clearly, she has to hold back a scream -- even knowing full well that he can’t see or hear her -- when his eyes open suddenly. He looks a bit shocked, but more obvious is the expression of sadness on his face. He blinks a few times before sitting up, staring down at the blanket while he thinks. Eventually, he wraps his arms around his knees and hides his face as he curls up. Y/n is overcome with a feeling of immense sadness. 

After a few minutes, Namjoon lifts his head, and it pains Y/n to no end to see that he’s been crying. He sniffles once, drying his face with his shirt, before reaching over to his bedside table for his phone. Squinting when the light of his screen tries to blind him, he opens his text thread with 13-year-old Y/n and starts to type a new message. Present Y/n peers over the top of his phone and reads the words upside down, knowing that she probably doesn’t even need to.

NJ : you okay?

Y/N : how did you know i was awake? 

NJ : you’re always awake

Y/N : okay well how did you know that im not okay

NJ : i had a bad dream

Y/N : you sound like my grandmother

NJ : got the bones of a grandmother, too 

Y/N : you do crackle a lot when you move

NJ : are you going to tell me what’s going on 

Y/N : ,,, diana’s sick,, like really sick 

Y/N : pomfrey’s trying to treat her

NJ : omw

Y/N : ???

Namjoon throws the blanket off of himself and, scooping up a sweatshirt from on top of his trunk, slides his feet into his slippers and heads out of the dorm as quietly as he can. Y/n follows, knowing exactly where he’s headed. Watching these memories from his point of view, however, is filling in all the gaps in her own, so she can’t help but be intrigued by every moment -- every step Namjoon takes, every time he speeds up a little bit as he covers the distance between himself and the Hospital Wing, every time he slows down as he’s turning corners, still careful of the prefects roaming the corridors. When he finally turns the last corner, Y/n watches as he stops in his tracks, staring down the corridor at a younger Y/n, one who’s been sobbing for hours as she paces in front of the Hospital Wing doors, one who’s already encountered three prefects who have all given her a free pass because of how distraught she is. It’s two in the morning, and Namjoon is staring down the corridor at a Y/n who’s been here since ten and hasn’t said anything to any of them. 

Sighing, Namjoon shoves his hands in the pockets of his pajama pants, making his way down to her. She notices him when he’s about halfway there, offering him a weak greeting before resuming her endless pacing. He stops right beside her, watching as his friend passes him once, twice, and then twice more. He finally puts his hand out, latching onto her arm and gripping tightly when she tries to pull away. Wordlessly, he pulls her toward him, bringing her into his arms and securing her in his hold when she finally falls into him, losing all of her strength. 

Throwing her arms around Namjoon, she cries into his neck, needing him much more than he could ever know. All he does know is that he’d been woken from his sleep, filled with an impossible sadness that made him want to run to her, wherever she would have been. He would have run to her even if she’d been in the forest, or off the grounds entirely. He’d needed to find her because he feared his chest would cave in from the amount of pain he felt when he didn’t have her next to him. He’d wanted to take all of her sorrow away, but in the process of finding her he realized that he could breathe again once he had her.

Walking them slowly over to the wall just outside of the Hospital Wing, Namjoon pulls away from Y/n just for the time it takes for them to sit down together, and then she’s back in his arms, leaning against him heavily as he whispers words of comfort to her. They stay like that until just before breakfast, when Pomfrey comes out and sees that they’ve fallen asleep, clinging to each other tightly. Unbeknownst to anyone, 17-year-old Y/n is sleeping not too far away, having drifted off while watching them talk throughout the night.

--

When she wakes, it’s still dark, but she’s sitting in a well-lit corridor. More importantly, she’s sitting across from an even older Namjoon, who’s perched on a windowsill scrolling through his phone even though it’s well past curfew. Rubbing her eyes as she stands, Y/n makes her way over to him, leaning in to see what he’s up to. There on his screen is a picture of the prefect schedule, and he keeps zooming in and out of the section with Y/n’s name on it. She chuckles, shaking her head as she takes a seat next to him and waits for whatever’s to come. 

Only a few minutes pass before footsteps can be heard echoing nearby. Namjoon perks up, putting his phone away and looking toward the end of the corridor expectantly -- Y/n can’t help but smile at how cute he is. Following his gaze, she watches as her younger self turns the corner, wand well-lit despite the castle lighting being phenomenal in this area. She’s showing off her freshly polished prefect’s badge and smiling as she does her patrol. Y/n looks at this younger version of herself and has to hold back a laugh.

Oh, to be fifteen and a total dork. 

Y/n watches as her younger self looks straight ahead, completely focused on her duties, and she’s fond of this annoying rule-follower she used to be. She remembers clearly how happy she’d been to be named prefect, and she’d wanted to do her best. So she’d polished her badge and kept her notepad ready and gone on her first patrol in a dweeby kind of excitement. Not even an hour in, she’d found Namjoon. 

“Joon? What are you doing?” Namjoon smiles, waving her over excitedly. With a cautious look on her face, she approaches her friend, who she is well aware had become a bit of a troublemaker over the years but still finds him adorable and harmless. He pulls his bag off his shoulder and starts to open it, talking as he does.

“Well, I didn’t know if patrol would be boring or lame, so I brought you a book just in case!” An enormous smile fills her face, and she laughs softly as he pulls out a stack of reading materials. “Okay, actually I brought a lot because I didn’t know what you’d like… hopefully you like books on various niche topics and magical research.” He lifts his gaze, beaming up at her as he holds out the stack of books, waiting for her to choose. Y/n puts her wand away, stepping up him and glancing through the titles. She pulls one out that has magical creatures on the cover and nods decisively as she flips through it.

“This one looks cool.” She stops leafing through the pages to watch Namjoon as he puts the rest back and begins to ramble.

“Oh, that’s a great choice! They have this awesome chapter on veelas and the genetic traits that get passed down to their children, which is super cool when you think about half-veelas or quarter-veelas or even one-eighth-veelas, which are kinda rare, but-” He cuts himself off, realizing that he’s gone on for far too long and taking a sheepish glance at Y/n. She’s smiling at him so sweetly he swears his heartbeat actually stutters for a moment, but he clears his throat and points at the book in her hand. “I should stop talking… don’t want to spoil it for you.” Y/n tucks the book under her arm, aiming her smile down at her feet as she responds.

“Thanks, Joon, I’ll make sure to tell you what I think of it when I’m done… by the way, you do realize you’re out after curfew, right?” Namjoon hums awkwardly, lifting his bag onto his shoulder as he stands.

“I’m only out if you say I am.” 

“What does that even mean?” Namjoon laughs at her confusion, reaching out and locating a piece of hair that’s fallen into her face. He runs it back until it’s tucked safely behind her ear, at that point letting his arm fall to his side and taking a couple steps back.

“You suddenly have no recollection of seeing me tonight… that book is yours now. Have a good first patrol, Y/n. I’m proud of you.” Not giving her enough time to respond, Namjoon turns on his heel and disappears down another corridor, one leading to Ravenclaw Tower. Y/n just stands there staring after him, only remembering the book in her arms when it just about falls to the ground. 

The older Y/n watches her younger self look back through the book for a bit before lifting her gaze to the spot where Namjoon disappeared, a small smile gracing her features and she starts to wander down her route for the night, almost no attention paid to anything outside of her new book. Y/n knows well that she’d return to her room that night and place it on her bedside table, picking it up every night to read just a bit more, as it was an admittedly difficult book deserving only of Ravenclaw eyes. She would eventually get through it, and then she’d read it again to really feel like she got it all. It still sits on her bedside table, always unpacked at the beginning of the year and put in its own spot next to her. 

Y/n waits as the scene fades around her, and the space fills up with new setting -- soon she’s surrounded by the castle staircases.

--

She knows this scene well -- it’s the day that she’d fallen down the stairs from Tae and Jimin’s prank. She can tell by the crowd of people that’s gathering. 6th year Y/n hasn’t made it there yet, still in a meeting with Dumbledore about prefect matters that was running a little late at the moment.

This was supposed to be the ultimate prank of the year -- and it certainly was memorable, but not entirely for that reason. Jimin had just had his Clock Day not even a week prior, and he and Tae were celebrating their newfound love the only way they knew how. The entire school knew about it, and the professors had long given up trying to stop the two Slytherin troublemakers. Someone steps up beside 7th year Y/n, busy scrolling through their phone. She looks up and is met with the sight of 6th year Namjoon, smiling down at his screen as he bombards Y/n with annoying texts, complaining that she was late. Yoongi’s standing with Jin, Jungkook, and Hoseok not even five feet away, and he calls out to Namjoon excitedly when he spots the Ravenclaw.

“Joon! Over here, over here! We got some great spots to watch the show!” Jungkook bites his lip and looks away, hiding his extremely fond smile. Jin and Hoseok make amused eye contact, and Y/n can see now by Jin’s lingering gaze and their small grins that they’d been dating for a while and that the rest of them were all just blind to their very obvious love. 

Yoongi makes his way over to the tall boy beside her, striking up a conversation about his new plant and some fun caretaking methods he’d found online the other day. Namjoon nods along, still slightly distracted as he glances around the massive crowd for his favorite person. He has his back just turned enough to not be able to see that 6th year Y/n has emerged not too far away and is searching for her friends. Y/n watches her younger self make her way along the side of the banister in their general direction, and she’s very aware of what’s to come in the next few moments. 

Jimin and Tae had bewitched the staircases to move on their command, shifting them out of their normal rotation pattern in order to lock them firmly into the sides of the walls they’re attached to, effectively creating a cavern more than 10 stories high, giving them room to set off the insane amount of fireworks they’d made all the way from the Slytherin dungeons. The fireworks were supposed to go to the very top of the castle, exploding just before they crashed into the ceiling. They were never set off. 

As Y/n was looking for her friend group, knowing they’d be somewhere close to the stair banisters, but having no idea what the plan was, she’d stepped out onto one of the staircases to get a better angle to find her friends. Since her meeting had run late, she’d missed the very aggressive announcement from Tae that no one should step onto the stairs for at least ten minutes before the show started, and the chaotic soulmates were down in the dungeons, just about to execute their plan. They never saw her. 

Y/n can’t bring herself to watch what she already has painfully etched into her memory, choosing instead to watch Namjoon converse with Yoongi in the moments before her tragic staircase accident. She’s extremely lucky she’d been watching him. 

She knows that the staircases have started moving when she hears people cheering, but she actually knows almost half a second before that. A painful, ice cold chill runs down the length of her spine -- it’s like nothing she’s ever felt before, and she’s felt the fear of falling 20 feet off of a staircase.

She realizes that the feeling is coming from Namjoon -- he’s the one feeling that ice cold pain coursing through his veins. It’s as if the world stops -- one second, he’s listening to Yoongi explain how to pick the right terrarium, and the next, he can’t hear anything at all. Y/n also can’t hear a thing -- everything’s muffled, and all she can hear is a heartbeat, thumping so loudly, so quickly that it could only belong to the girl who’s currently tumbling down a set of stairs into a free fall.

Namjoon turns, and Y/n can see that he knows exactly where her younger self is without having ever seen her. With a strength that she didn’t even know he possessed, he shoves past every person between him and the banister, literally knocking some poor Hufflepuff boy to the ground as he rushes to the stairs.

Throwing himself against the side of the wall when he gets there, Namjoon finds Y/n’s eyes almost instantly -- she’s staring up at him as she falls, still in shock at what’s happening. Y/n won’t remember until this very moment, when she’s standing in her own memory, but she’d seen Namjoon take action as she was falling. He hadn’t been quite fast enough -- she’d still hit the second set of stairs and pass out right there -- but he had managed to slow her down before she’d landed. 

Namjoon pulls his wand out of his pocket so fast that the older Y/n hadn’t even seen him do it. Pointing it straight down at her, he calls after her, a silent spell manifesting from nothing but the force of his own will -- the force of his complete and total terror that something would happen to her. It’s the first time he’d ever been able to successfully cast a silent spell, having complained for weeks that he wasn’t able to get it no matter how much he practiced. Y/n feels it all in that moment, all of the soul-shattering fear Namjoon was carrying, and she has to lean heavily on the wall to steady herself, wondering how he’d managed to push past that and cast the spell successfully.

The spell hits Y/n squarely in the chest, instantly slowing her fall. It isn’t enough to prevent her arm from breaking, and it isn’t enough to stop her from complaining for the next full week about a backache, but it is enough to soften the landing and keep her safe from something much worse. They’d been lucky, really -- the stairs she’d landed on just happened to be passing beneath her on its way to its formation. If another second had gone by, she’d still be falling into the dungeons. 

Y/n watches everything from above, and she can hear everyone jumping into action. She can hear everyone’s cheers turn into gasps of terror, and she can hear her friends all calling for her, all rushing to the nearest staircase to get down to her. She can even see down into the dungeons, where Tae is holding a firework and a flame, where Jimin is calling out to him frantically to stop. But most clearly, she can see that Namjoon is already at her side, having scaled over the top of the wall and essentially taken his chances at getting down to her as quickly as possible without falling. He’s shaking her furiously, grabbing her face and yelling for someone to alert Pomfrey when she doesn’t respond, already out cold. Jin is yelling down at Jimin and Tae, instructing them to move the staircases carefully so Namjoon can get her to the Hospital Wing. 

Namjoon holds tightly onto the side of staircase as Tae brings it around to the corridor leading straight to the Hospital Wing, gripping Y/n tightly in his other arm as they go. He doesn’t even wait for the stairs to stop moving -- as soon as they’re close enough, he’s scooping her up in his arms and running full speed into the passageway, disappearing from view completely. 

Y/n watches the rest of the room devolve into chaos -- Jimin and Tae fly up from the depths of the dungeon on Jimin’s broomstick, gesturing wildly at their friends as they all barrel down the nearest staircase together in an attempt to follow after Namjoon. Jin is pulling Hoseok along by his hand as they race to the front of the group, Jin trying to get Hoseok to his best friend as fast as possible. Yoongi is clinging to Jungkook’s side, eyes wet, and she can see him whispering mantras of positivity to himself as they go. She can see he doesn’t believe them even as he says them, and Jungkook is the one to take over and reinforce the words as they run together. Jimin is guiding himself and Tae up the cavern and back around as Tae shouts for the crowd to disperse, threatening to set the fireworks off in a dangerous way if they don’t all get lost. He looks very much like the Slytherin he is but never shows to the world. 

Everyone leaves just as Dumbledore is running into the space, commanding the attention of the two Slytherins. Jimin looks back at Tae and, knowing full well how much trouble they’d be in if they got caught, they head straight for the headmaster. Landing beside him, they don’t even give him a chance to start reprimanding them -- they both start yelling at the same time, pointing desperately in the direction of the Hospital Wing and begging him to come with them to see if he can do anything. The old wizard is so thrown by the display that all he can do is follow after them as they run to join their friends. 

Y/n watches everything from the top of the stairs. She sees everything -- all of the chaos, all of the fear -- and she thinks about the fact that she’d had absolutely no idea any of this had happened. She’d passed out and woken up a day later, in a world of pain but thankfully not seriously hurt. She’d watched her friends come and go every day, and she’d noted that Namjoon only ever left her side to eat and shower when he was sure she was sleeping. It was the only thing she knew about the entire accident, and it wasn’t even close to what actually had happened. She doesn’t even notice when the scene changes, too caught up in her own thoughts to register the smoke filling her vision and flowing into something new. 

--

The smoke clears, leaving her shrouded in trees and darkness. She’s standing at the edge of the Forbidden Forest, the moon full and bright above her. She can’t see Namjoon anywhere, so she starts heading in the direction of the castle, its silhouette visible in the distance. She’s about halfway there when she hears it.

“Namjoon likes me, Namjoon likes me!”

“How did they make you Head Girl? You’re a child!” Unable to mask her smile, Y/n hurries out past the treeline and in the direction of the voices, this memory much more recent. Just there past a grove of trees sits a cluster of rocks, outlining the edge of the lake well. Namjoon is heading over to them now, hopping carefully until he gets to a spot that he likes. Y/n can barely make out her younger self, herself from not even a few months ago, crouched by the lake, running her fingers through the water lightly. Y/n heads toward Namjoon just as her other self is yelling back to him.

“This water’s cold as fuck!” Y/n remembers the feeling that comes next, but it’s a different experience in Namjoon’s perspective. That feeling of adoration she’d felt all those weeks ago down by the lake -- the feeling that had left her wondering what her soulmate was up to at the time -- makes sense now. It makes complete sense to her, just as everything about Namjoon is finally starting to make sense. Every glance, every smile. He’d always known. He’d just been waiting for her to notice him -- he’d been waiting for her to love him.

A quiet yelp followed by a bit of rustling catches Y/n’s attention, and she’s not surprised to find Namjoon has already caught her from wiping out on the rocks and is holding her gently, just a few feet away. Feeling strangely intrusive, Y/n averts her eyes, settling down on the rocks and staring out at the lake while her younger self shares her first intimate moment with Namjoon. 

A few moments later, the sound of mumbling, followed soon by paper being slapped on skin, alerts Y/n of her own exit from an awkward moment. Turning back to the scene, she catches herself running away in the distance -- truly a humorous sight indeed -- but her attention is on Namjoon. He’s staring down at the detention slip that had been stuck to his face, chuckling slightly to himself. Y/n’s heart warms at the fondness in his expression, thankful that he hadn’t been discouraged by her behavior.

“This girl, I swear…�� He starts to head back into the castle, and Y/n can tell she’s meant to follow. They make their way slowly through the castle, Y/n watching as Namjoon gets lost in his thoughts. They make it all the way up to Ravenclaw Tower, where Namjoon stops suddenly just before the entrance to his common room. He’s still lost in his thoughts, but there’s a smile spreading slowly across his face. It finally reaches his eyes, and suddenly he’s spinning around in the corridor, punching the air and literally bouncing in place as quietly as he can. 

“She almost kissed me!” Running up to the door to his common room, he completely ignores the riddle that the eagle knocker asks him.

“Did you hear what I said? She almost kissed me! Can you believe it?” The eagle knocker remains silent while Namjoon parades around in front of the door, eventually opening its mouth.

“How lovely. Please answer the question.” Halting his excited bouncing to glare at the knocker, Namjoon answers the riddle with an impatient wave of his hand. The door slides open, allowing Namjoon to rush into the common room and up the stairs to his room, Y/n following behind in a shocked daze at Namjoon’s display. Throwing the door open and barely managing to get his shoes off, Namjoon hops on top of his bed, chanting happily.

“Hobi, wake up, wake up! She almost kissed me tonight -- wake up, bitch! I’m having a moment here!” Y/n watches from the door as Hoseok rolls over in his bed and reaches for something she can’t see. Their third roommate, a kind but rather quiet boy named Roger, starts to whine loudly, begging Namjoon to quiet down. She feels bad for him -- he’s been put through a lot with them as roommates -- but she forgets about him completely when she sees Hoseok’s shoe fly across the room with shocking speed and accuracy. It hits Namjoon in the face, sending him tumbling to the ground instantly.

“Shut it, you overgrown kindergartner! If I sleep through first hour tomorrow, I’m ripping every single one of your hairs out of your head with my bare hands!” Despite the pout that forms on Namjoon’s face as he sits on the ground holding Hoseok’s shoe, Y/n can’t help but laugh at the interaction, very typical of her two Ravenclaw boys. He sits there for a few more seconds, enough time for Y/n to cross the room and take a seat on the trunk at the foot of his bed. Watching him carefully, she’s pleased to see that his frown soon becomes a smile once again as he recalls the events of that night. 

Climbing onto his bed, he reaches into his pocket for his phone, sending Y/n what she remembers to be a very sweet goodnight text. Once that’s done, he tosses the phone onto his bedside table before taking it upon himself to flop back onto his mattress dramatically, smiling dreamily up at the ceiling. The last thing Y/n sees before the smoke pulls her away is Namjoon placing a hand on his chest and scrunching up the material of his shirt -- the material that lies just above his heart -- and closing his eyes, the smile lingering on his lips. 

--

The moment the smoke places her in her next memory, Y/n realizes it isn’t a memory at all. She’s standing in a massive group of people -- her entire class. They all have smiles on their faces, and they’re all hugging one another and taking photos. But this isn’t what she notices - it’s their outfits. All the same, all identical. The cap and gown.

Graduation? But this is months away… 

Her own laughter reaches her ears, and it doesn’t take much longer to find herself. She -- her older self? -- is standing with the rest of their friends, laughing as Diana tries to chew on Jungkook’s dress pants. Only five of them are wearing gowns, the Slytherins and Jungkook still stuck at Hogwarts for another year. Hoseok is taking photos of Jin, who looks like he’s suffering not only from the heat, but also from his boyfriend’s scrutiny. 

“Come on, Jin! Just one smile for the camera, and I will let this go -- my mom wants a photo!” 

“Why does it have to be of just me? She’s your mom!” 

“Because she says you’re the most handsome person she’s ever seen, and I completely agree.” Jin waves Hoseok off, unwilling to take the photo. That is, until he makes eye contact with Yoongi, who’s standing just a little ways away. At the sight of his roommate pulling a mini magical cactus from within his robe and brandishing it at Jin menacingly, Jin turns to Hoseok with a wide smile.

“I love photos, let’s take ten!” Confused but pleasantly surprised, Hoseok lets Jin lead him off toward the lake for their photoshoot. Y/n starts to laugh uncontrollably as she watches Yoongi tuck the cactus back into his robes innocently, and it unnerves her to see that her older self has also witnessed the exchange and is laughing alongside her. 

Turning back to the larger friend group, almost desperate to avoid another coincidence with herself, she finds Namjoon bent at Jungkook’s feet, trying to keep his cap on his head as he wrestles Diana from Jungkook’s leg. Jungkook is crying out in pain at the claws that have been buried in his ankle -- no one sees that Jimin and Tae are enjoying the show immensely, even going so far as to start recording the entire thing.

When he finally manages to remove the cat from the poor Gryffindor’s limb, Namjoon stands and turns to Y/n, narrowly avoiding a claw to his face in the process. 

“Please tell your demon cat that scratching people’s ankles off is rude as fuck.” Y/n laughs, reaching for Diana and cooing at her once she’s safely in Y/n’s arms.

“It’s not her fault Jungkook is such a thicc boy and attracts the attention of anything that wants a bite -- isn’t that right, Diana?” Diana curls up and purrs in response, sending everyone into a fit of laughter and comments about Jungkook’s thiccness as the Gryffindor scowls at the cat. The younger Y/n almost joins their laughter, but something catches her eye before she has time to look away from her older self.

Just there on her left hand -- the same hand that is cradling Diana -- sits a ring, one she’d never seen before. Ignoring the discomfort of being so close to a version of herself that didn’t exist yet, she approaches the girl in front of her, taking the ring in fully. A small diamond is nested in the band of it, shining brightly despite its size. She can’t stop herself from looking up at Namjoon, who stands beside her older self. He’s staring down at her, the smile on his face one of humor from the current situation, but also one of love and adoration, known only to them. 

Y/n watches the moment and knows she’s the only one who can see it, despite being the only one who isn’t physically there. She can see how much Namjoon loves her and how happy he is to be able to show it. As the scene fades, she can’t help but wonder if what she’s seeing is really the future -- the image of a Namjoon who hasn’t acknowledged her in weeks comes back to her, only serving to bring pain into her heart. She doesn’t bother to try to see where the smoke is taking her.

--

She’s staring down at a wooden floor, in a house she doesn’t recognize. Lifting her gaze and glancing around, however, she finds that it’s quite a nice home. The smoke had left her standing in the middle of the kitchen, and she can’t help but run her fingers along the counter top as she makes her way through the room. It’s spotless, but it looks lived in. 

Comfortable. Beautiful. 

Passing under an archway that opens into the main room, she can see stairs leading up to the second floor, the front door just past them. Taking in everything as she moves through the room -- the sofa draped in various warm blankets, the tattered book sitting open on the coffee table, the array of house plants sitting on the windowsill -- she can’t help but feel like this home is perfect for her. Just as she makes it to the stairs and is putting a foot on the first step, the sound of rustling in a room off to the right calls her attention. 

Approaching the room, she peeks her head around the doorway and finds herself looking into an office, lit with the warmth of a fireplace crackling softly in the corner. She doesn’t even see the person sitting at the desk until they lift their head, clearly awakening from an unexpected nap.

Namjoon stretches in his seat, arms reaching high above his head as he lets out a tired groan. He looks older, maybe by 4 or 5 years. There’s a stack of files next to where he’d been napping on the desk, and there’s a smear of ink across his right cheek from his quill. Looking around his immediate area, he swears softly under his breath.

“Where did I put them?” He’s just about to stick his head under the desk to search for his missing item when a quiet meow rings through the room. Y/n looks down just in time to see a very familiar cat entering the room, a pair of round specs dangling from her mouth. She hops up onto the desk once she reaches it, taking a seat on top of whatever Namjoon had been working on before dropping his glasses into his outstretched hand. With a fond smile, he places the glasses on his face before scratching the back of the cat’s ear.

“Thanks, Diana. I knew you’d like me one day.” Y/n watches the exchange, filled with a mixture of disbelief and joy. Never once in the seven years she’d known Namjoon had Diana expressed anything other than complete disdain for the Ravenclaw, and yet here it seems they’ve been friends for ages. 

The front door opens behind her, followed by the soft call of a voice that sounds much like hers but more mature.

“I’m home! Joon?” She watches Namjoon smile as he peers through her into the other room. 

“In here!” An older Y/n -- 4 or 5 years older -- steps up beside her younger, shocked self in the doorway. She’s wearing business attire, and she’s carrying a bag of takeaway, which she holds up for Namjoon to see. She looks poised, impressive -- but she still looks like herself. She doesn’t look like a stuck-up adult. She just looks… older.

She looks pretty freaking cool.

“I saw you still had a lot of assignments to grade when I was leaving this morning, so I got your favorite.” Namjoon cheers, moving to stand from his seat but taking the time to point cutely at Diana, still seated peacefully on his work. 

“Diana brought me my glasses! I think she finally likes me.” He looks very proud of this fact, even reaching out to pet her one last time. She swipes at his hand in anger, scratching his palm slightly. They glare at each other for a moment before Namjoon gets up, shaking his head. “One day she’ll love me.” 

“Namjoon, we’ve been married for five years and she only just today did one nice thing for you. You’ve still got a way to go with her.” Rolling his eyes, he approaches Y/n and leans forward, planting a kiss on her lips. Younger Y/n has to look away, slightly shaken by the unexpected display. Only when he’s pulled away does she feel comfortable enough to look again, attributing the warmth in her face the fireplace not too far away.

“How was work?” Y/n sighs, reaching out with her free hand to wipe at the ink on his face, giving away that he’d been napping just before she arrived.

“It was fine. The Minister’s been on us to meet fiscal year deadlines as if we’re not drowning in his debt. I’m just happy to be home.” The tired look in her eyes fades once she starts smiling up at Namjoon, who’s taken her free hand in his own and started leaning against the door frame while he was listening to her. It puts him in the perfect position to bring his lips to the top of her head in a comforting kiss, which only serves to widen her smile. 

“Well, Mrs. Kim, you are doing a fine job over there at the Ministry. Meanwhile, I was so confused about the fact that one of my students doesn’t know the difference between transformation and switching that I took a stress nap instead of writing feedback for him.” He laughs lightly when Y/n puts her index finger against his forehead and pushes him away from her. Diana following closely behind, she heads into the kitchen, calling back to him.

“Not everyone is good at transfiguration, Joon -- remember how I was? I would have failed my N.E.W.T without you.” 

“Yeah, well, maybe if we’d done more studying instead of messing around that night you would have gotten a better score.” Younger Y/n blushes deeply, barely managing to follow behind Namjoon as he heads into the kitchen as well. 

“I passed, didn’t I? And if I remember correctly, I’m the one that actually wanted to study -- you just got bored because you’re a know-it-all.” He barks out a laugh.

“Guilty as charged, but can you blame me? I waited seven years for you to love me, I was obsessed with you once we started dating… I still kind of am obsessed with you.” Younger Y/n watches Namjoon corner her older self between two counter tops, smiling cheekily down at her and laughing when she pushes lightly against his chest. Taking her in his arms, he suddenly becomes serious, his smile dropping. 

“Y/n?” Both of the women in question keep their eyes on Namjoon, entranced by him, just as it had always been -- entranced by his presence from the moment he’d come into her life. 

“Thank you for loving me.”

Y/n can feel herself reaching out to him, disregarding the futility in it, but she doesn’t get the chance to call out to him. The smoke has started to fill her vision -- but it doesn’t transform the room smoothly. This time, something takes hold of the back of her belt, latching onto her and yanking her upwards, out of the smoke entirely. Muffling her scream with her hand, she watches the cloud of smoke shrink below her until it becomes the spec of grey she’d seen when this all started. She screws her eyes shut, dizzy from the climb -- confused beyond belief but finding her resolve in the truth.

-- 

When Y/n opens her eyes, she’s staring at the lake, and it’s gotten much darker. She’s also much farther away from the lake than she remembers being when she first fainted -- she can see more of the shoreline, and she’s fairly certain she’s under a tree. Trying to scan her surroundings, she tilts her head up before coming to a stop, registering that there’s something very soft underneath her cheek.

“You’re awake.” The voice, although familiar and comforting, is a shock all the same, so she jumps in surprise, turning her head to locate it. She finds herself staring up into Namjoon’s eyes, and she realizes belatedly that the soft thing under her is his leg. Lifting herself off of him with her elbow, she takes the time to glance around -- there’s no need to examine the grounds, of course. She just isn’t prepared to face Namjoon. 

“How did you know where I was?” She says this while glancing around herself still, adjusting her positioning until she’s leaning back against the tree. Namjoon shifts next to her, bringing his knees up to his chest and resting his chin while he stares out at the lake.

“I could feel that it was starting… and I just knew where to find you.” Y/n nods, deciding to just be satisfied with his response instead of questioning the mechanics of it. They sit in silence for a few minutes, simply staring out at the lake together as the sun begins to set. She can feel that Namjoon’s waiting for her to say something, so, gathering her courage, she turns to him, holding her tongue until he’s met her eyes, which he does after a brief pause. 

“You knew this entire time?” Namjoon looks away quickly, unable to face her. He nods once, and she takes this as her signal to continue, her frustrations with him over the past few weeks boiling to the surface. “Then why have you been avoiding me? What’s been going on with you?” Groaning deeply, he leans back against the tree, his limbs dropping into a sort of sprawled position beside her. His eyes are shut, brow furrowed. He looks conflicted. 

“I was an idiot --”

“That’s a massive understatement.” His eyes find hers, and he turns fully to face her, his expression earnest and a bit desperate.

“I freaked out, Y/n. When Hobi said it wasn’t guaranteed that we’d end up together, my entire world fell apart. I had always assumed we’d be together and that I just had to wait for you to find out it was me -- I thought it was enough that I loved you. But then he started talking about free will and people without soulmates and losing the emotional connection and -- I lost it, okay? I lost it. Everything I’d believed about us for the last seven years was ripped apart… but I was an asshole.” 

“Yeah. You were.” His eyes drift down until he’s staring at the ground, clearly humbled and apologetic. “But… I understand --” When he whips his head up to look at her, his eyes appear to have become hopeful. “I mean, what you did was fucked up, the boys are really upset--” His head dips again, his frown deepening. “But I understand why you freaked out. I just… wish you had handled it better.” They sit in silence together, Y/n staring down at the top of Namjoon’s head while he waits beside her, looking not unlike a scolded child.

“Did you think I would be mad once I found out you’d known all this time about us?” He glances up at her briefly before returning his gaze to lap, where he finds great interest in picking at his fingernails. Slowly, and only after a small sigh, he nods, still refusing to meet her eyes.

“Even after everything we’ve been through -- all of the flirting and the deep talks and late nights together?” Another nod. “Do you realize how stupid that is?” He stops fidgeting, choosing instead to examine the ground extensively while he thinks. Finally, he nods, pulling his head up to look into her eyes before nodding again, gaze solemn. 

“I know. I’m really sorry. You have no idea how painful it was to know I’d hurt you… I just thought that if you really were going to choose someone else -- or at the very least if you were going to be disappointed in me being your soulmate -- I… just thought I should distance myself beforehand… But I hated every second of it, and I wish I could take it all back... I’m sorry.” He looks like he’s going to continue, but Y/n stops him. Reaching out, she takes one of his hands in hers, intertwining their fingers while nodding.

“Okay. I forgive you -- it’s going to be hard for me to trust you fully again, but I forgive you.” She squeezes his hand, and for the first time since waking up, she smiles at him. Taking her in, Namjoon can’t help but feel overwhelmed with affection, and he knows she can feel it when she starts to snicker at him. Nudging her playfully, he turns back to the lake, sitting beside her as they lean against the tree. Their hands lie clasped in her lap, a slight zap of electricity running through their palms every few seconds. The feeling is new but warm, one of completeness.

“So… what was your Clock Day like?” She doesn’t bother turning to look at him when she asks, knowing he’ll just keep staring out at the water while he ponders.

“It was… a lot to handle as a first year.” She nods, remembering Hobi’s words once again. “There weren’t very many memories, actually. It was mostly visions of the future. We hadn’t known each other that long -- how could I have anything substantial to remember yet? Actually… do you remember coming to visit me in the Hospital Wing?” 

“Yeah, of course. That was my first memory.” He hums, thinking about that day a little longer. 

“I knew you would be coming. It was the first vision that the smoke showed me.” She smiles fondly at that term -- “the smoke” -- because she knew there was no other way to talk about it. The inner workings of fate and magic were too advanced for any one person to understand and talk about eloquently. “It showed me that you were on your way -- when you showed up, I thought ‘Ah, so my future really has been decided’. But then… things kept changing.” Y/n looks up at him, taking in the expression on his face. He looks lost, confused about the truth -- but there’s something resigned about it, as if he’d accepted that the world was much different than he thought.

“What changed?” He looks down at her before dropping his eyes to their intertwined hands.

“The way I’d seen my future wasn’t the way it always turned out. Eventually I figured out at that the visions the smoke shows you aren’t set in stone -- they’re more potentialities than fact. There was something about the way our reality developed that changed things along the way -- sometimes they were just small details, but sometimes entire events were different… like your accident.” With a furrowed brow and concerned interest, Y/n leans in, urging Namjoon silently to continue. He does so only after a sigh.

“You weren’t supposed to become a prefect. In my visions, we were just normal kids who got into equal amounts of trouble and made it through school without anything remarkable happening. But you were always a high achiever, so when you were made prefect, I was surprised, but happy for you all the same… except… if you hadn’t become a prefect, you wouldn’t have been late to the fireworks show. We would have gone together, and you would have heard the announcement about the stairs because you wouldn’t have been in a meeting that had run late. I wasn’t prepared for you to fall because that wasn’t the reality I had seen… I had no idea that day was going to happen.” 

They sit in silence, staring out at the lake together as the words settle in the air above them. It weighs down on them -- the complications of fate and reality, the power of free will in a world ruled by destiny. Things never turn out quite like they’re supposed to, and Y/n can only guess how unimaginably terrifying that would be for someone who’d relied on fate for so long. 

“That’s why you were scared I wouldn’t want to be with you -- you were already nervous that things had turned out differently up to this point, so hearing that not even our future is guaranteed tipped you over the edge.” She can see him nodding out of the corner of her eye, and she finally feels like she understands. “Well, even if you have acted like an idiot for the last few weeks, I still want to be with you. I think I always have.” Namjoon squeezes her hand tightly, a breath of relief leaving him -- one that, frankly, she had no idea he’d been holding. 

“Well that’s good because I already picked out the necklace I was going to give you at graduation, and it would just be plain awkward to return it.” She turns to him in confusion.

“Necklace? In my vision it was an engagement ring… to be honest, I’m not ready to get married yet.” Namjoon looks at her, eyes shining with mirth.

“That’s also good to hear… I don’t have the money to buy you a ring yet.” She pushes him away, laughter ringing through the air. The word “yet” doesn’t go unnoticed, however, and she tries to hide her face from him as redness creeps up her cheeks. If he catches her blush, he doesn’t say anything about it, instead choosing to move onto a different subject. 

“Did you… have a vision about us a few years from now? Living together in a really nice house? I think I was taking a nap?” Y/n smiles and closes her eyes, finding herself leaning against Namjoon as she reminisces on the vision.

“Yeah, you were grading Transfiguration homework, and I was getting home from work… I worked for the Ministry.” He hums, wrapping an arm around her as he reflects on her words.

“In mine you worked at St. Mungo’s -- you were a healer.” There’s a pause, and then he chuckles under his breath. “I think I like you as a healer better. ‘Healer Y/n’ has a sexy ring to it.” With a scoff that sounds a lot more like a laugh than she’d care to admit, Y/n is pushing herself off of him and rising to her feet, leaving him behind as she heads down to the lake. Namjoon’s hand around her wrist a few moments later, pulling her back into his chest, has her laughing openly. Her hands find his waist, where she anchors herself and clings to him, reveling in the fact that she can do this kind of thing now. 

They stand there for a while, watching the sun set over the horizon, thinking about their lives up until that point. When the last of the light disappears below the water, Y/n takes a deep breath and lifts her head from Namjoon’s chest to look up at him. Feeling that she’s moved, he glances down at her, realizing only when their noses touch just how close they are. 

In a rush of courage that can only be the mark of a Gryffindor, Y/n pushes up on her tippy toes, pressing her lips to his as gently as possible. She isn’t ready for the way the world seems to stop all around her -- she isn’t ready for the way her heart stops, a flame finding its spark within the cavern of her chest. It spreads like wildfire to the rest of her body, getting stronger the longer she kisses him. It burns through her and attracts her to him like an addiction all the same. The love she feels for him in that moment -- coupled with the force of Namjoon reciprocating the emotions, completely in time with her -- is enough to set her skin alight, tearing through every nerve in her body. 

Only when it’s too much -- when she feels like she’s going to explode with this burning energy -- does she pull away, breathing embarrassingly hard. She can’t even tell that he’s having the same difficulties as her, having also just experienced the pure collision of forces that had knocked the wind out of her. He barely has time to register that she’s leaning her head against his chest and is whispering something to him in her surge of emotion. What he hears has him lifting her face with his hands as he yearns for another kiss, seven years overdue. 

“Thank you, Namjoon… Thank you for waiting for me.”

[laurenmm62017]

Jedi June: Day 5

5 Times Luke met Force Ghosts

Prompt: There is no death, there is the Force

This sort of ignores the whole “It takes years of study to learn to become a Force Ghost” thing but oh well.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/32046055

@jedijune

~1~

The first time he spoke to someone who was not really there was back on Tattooine. Luke was working on one of the vaporators at the edge of the farm, near the end of the day. He had been working on the damn thing for the better part of the day. One part failed just as another was fixed, but it seemed that Luke finally figured out what was wrong.

He straightened up and wiped a bit of sweat off his brow with a satisfied huff. At that moment, his eyes strayed over to the fence that marked the edge of the farm. Leaning against the electric fence was a Kel Dor, long robes flowing around them. As if that wasn’t strange enough, they were completely blue and translucent. What the kriff?

“Hey!” He shouted over, lowering his hand to his holster to make sure his blaster was there. You could never be too careful with Sand People roaming around. “What are you doing out here? Tosche Station is a long way from here.”

The Kel Dor chuckled, and stood up straight. “So you’re the Luke Skywalker that Ben keeps going on about. A pleasure, young one.”

“Ben? Ben Kenobi? What about him?”

Then, the Kel Dor walked straight through the kriffing fence. Luke’s eyebrows nearly shot off his head at that. He fumbled with his blaster a bit before turning the muzzle towards the… ghost is the only word he could think of. “What the hell??”

“Do not be afraid, young Luke. I mean you no harm. I was simply curious.”

“Y...you’re see through. And blue? What are you?” Luke was so confused.

“Simply a memory from a time past. May the Force be with you, Luke Skywalker. You will do great things. Just like your father before you.”

And just like that, he disappeared, leaving Luke confused and intrigued.

~2~

Luke doesn’t see another ghost until the aftermath of the Death Star explosion (the first one, as he will find out later). Luke had just climbed down from his X-Wing, adrenaline still flowing through his veins. He yanked his helmet off his head and looked hastily around for where the Falcon landed.

As he scanned the landing field, he caught a glimpse of translucent blue, and his mind flashes back to that time on the farm.

Luke weaved through the crowd of Rebel pilots and engineers and mechanics to the edge of the airfield, almost out of sight of everyone.

This figure was tall, much taller than Luke, with hair pulled back in a ponytail, and a mask that covered his eyes with some interesting markings on it. While the last ghost wore Jedi robes, this one was wearing typical Rebel Alliance attire. He was leaning casually against the hanger wall, watching wistfully as a modified Corellian freighter slowly came in for a landing.

“You don’t look much like a Jedi, sir.” Luke called out casually.

The man turned to him and smirked. “Neither do you. You look like a hero of the Rebellion.”

“Ehh, all I did was pull the trigger.”

“And blew up the Empire’s biggest weapon. Come on, kid. Don’t be so modest.”

“Alright, alright, thank you, Master…?”

“My name is Kanan Jarrus, Jedi Knight. I fought in the early days of the Rebellion, with my crew over there. Maybe you’ve seen them around base.”

Luke and Kanan observed this crew disembarking the Corellian freighter. A Twi’lek woman walked down the ramp holding what looked like a very small baby with bright green hair. A Mandalorian with colorful armor was chatting with an older man with a beard and bright white armor, followed by a ginger-haired man in standard Rebellion clothes and a big purple alien of whom Luke did not know the species of.

“That’s your crew? They seem... formidable.” He looked over this eclectic, mismatched crew, who seemed to know exactly where each other were as they walked towards the rest of the rebels. Luke stared at the crazy amount of modifications on top of this ship. There was almost as much as the Falcon, but this ship actually looked in much better condition. Don’t tell Han he thought that.

“They’re my family. I watch over them through the Force when I am able to. When this war is finally over, then I will feel comfortable with becoming one with the Force.”

Luke’s gaze focused back on this crew and contemplated the last few days. He went from a simple farm boy on Tattooine to hero of the Rebellion in an insanely short period of time. He met a Princess, an old Jedi, and two smugglers that he had become very close to. He really hoped they could become as close as Kanan’s crew appeared to be.

He turned back to Kanan, only to find that he disappeared.

~3~

Luke was recovering from his encounter with Darth Vader- his father when he met the next ghost.

Well, ghosts.

The doctor just left after making sure the stump of his arm wasn’t infected. It wasn’t, and what a relief it was for that small miracle. He was lying down with his eyes closed in a room between two empty beds.

Slowly, as the sedative the doctor gave him worked through his body, he began to sense two? Force signatures, sitting on the bed to his left. They were so melded and tangled together, he almost thought that it was one person.

He turned his head, and there sat two men. The first was wearing robes that looked similar to Old Ben’s robes. He was slightly too thin and his eyes didn’t quite connect with his own. The other was more built, had shoulder length hair, and was wearing a simple shirt and pants.

But Luke could see the way that their bodies were angled towards each other, the way the larger man had his arm on the other’s back, the way they seemed to unconsciously lean against each other.

“And who are you two?” He muttered, his brain still a bit fuzzy.

“My name is Chirrut. And this big softy is Baze.” The one who wore robes said, and gestured with his hand to the other man, whose frown deepened slightly at his introduction.

“Hi. I’m Luke.”

“You’ve been through so much, young one. The Force feels heavy around you. You faced a horrible creature and paid the price for your mistakes.” Chirrut declared, a bit too loudly, in Luke's opinion.

“Yeah, guess that’s what happens when I don’t listen to Master Yoda.”

“No.” Baze rumbled. “This sort of thing happens when you go into a situation you think you are ready for, but horribly overestimated yourself.”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right. I should have listened to Master Yoda. But if I had, Leia and Chewie…”

“There is no changing the past. All one can do is look to the future.” Chirrut smiled. “Besides, I don’t think you’re ready to give up yet. After all, the strongest stars have hearts of kyber.”

“What does that even mean?” Luke asked, furrowing his eyebrows.

“I still don’t know what you’re talking about.” Baze said, smiling very slightly.

“I’m disappointed, Baze. Do you not remember our time in the temple as Guardians?”

“I’m surprised you can remember something that happened so long ago, old man.”

“Such a shame. Baze Malbus was once the most devoted Guardian of us all!”

Luke smiled at them, letting their bickering to wash over him, then allowed the sedative to take hold of him.

~4~

The next time Luke saw a ghost was right before his turn in the plan to get Han back from Jabba's palace on Tattooine. He was at the outer edges of the Dune Sea, doing a bit of moving meditation to settle his nerves and center his focus. As his movements flowed smoother and smoother and he sank deeper into the Force, he could sense the Force coming together next to him in the form of a humanoid. Harsh, wild energy barely contained within, but already one with the Force. He could feel that this ghost was following the movements of his meditation with sharp precision and only a split second behind him.

He was winding down now, moving slower and slower, and finally settled in a kneeling position on the sand.

A beat of silence, then...

"You were trained by Obi-wan Kenobi, weren't you?" This ghost's voice was light, jovial, but his energy was dark, a shadow just out of sight.

"Yes. Him and Master Yoda. How could you tell?"

"I'd know Obi's style anywhere. We grew up together, after all."

Luke's eyes opened and looked across from him at this new ghost. He had dreadlocks that went slightly past his shoulders, a stripe of color across his nose and cheeks, and what looks like only the outside robe of standard Jedi robes? Interesting choice, Luke supposed.

"Obi-wan... I knew him as Old Ben, he lived out in the Jundland Wastes. Uncle Owen... he never trusted him, I guess. But I was always drawn to him, for some reason. Now I know it was because of the Force.” Luke smiled at the man. “You said you knew Ben?”

“Sure did, kid. But I knew him as Obi. We grew up in the Jedi Temple together. He was a cute little thing, always chasing after me and our group of friends. A lot happened to him at the start of his Padawan training, and it influenced him for the rest of his life, and therefore, the fate of the galaxy.” The man shook his head. “He was so full of anger when he was younger, but then he went to Naboo with his Master, that was the turning point for him. We could all feel it. Had the Jedi Order continued, I totally believed that he would have been the youngest Grand Master the galaxy had ever seen.”

“He was a bit distant, and I could tell there was a lot that he didn’t tell me before… he went to face Vader.”

“He was always like that. Never wanted to be a burden on others, so he kept everything close to his chest. He really only confided with Master Yoda. Or during the Clone Wars, he would spend a lot of time with his second in command.”

“A clone?”

“Yes, Commander Cody, highest ranking clone in the entire GAR. They were very close. Dunno what happened to him after the war.”

“May he be with the Force.”

“Yeah.”

There was a pause between the two.

“Hey, kid. Be careful, in there. Jabba is a lot smarter than his appearance would indicate.”

“Of course. How could he be the leader of an entire system if he wasn’t?”

“Heh, that’s true. Just don’t underestimate what he would do if he found you out.”

“He won’t.”

~5~

The last time he saw a ghost, or Force ghost, was during his exile on Ahch-To. He had lost track of time many cycles ago. The local population helped him acclimate to basically having nothing. They taught him how to fish, sterilize water, plant edible food, and build a shelter for himself. All of the books that he collected over the years were kept in an isolated part of the island that he rarely went to.

It was peaceful. But there was still a storm in his heart.

Luke stood on one of the higher cliffs on this small island, looking over the endless water. The waves roughly washed up the cliffs and he felt the sprays tickle his feet.

He wasn’t meditating; his head was too much of a mess for that.

Why didn’t he see it sooner? Why didn’t he sense it? If he were a better teacher, would he have been able to stop it?

“Luke, stop that train of thought this instant.”

He jumped and nearly fell from the cliff as a result. He turned around indignantly, ready to tell off whichever ghost had come unannounced to his exile, but paused when all he saw was blue and white lekku.

He slowly looked up to see a scowling and unimpressed face glaring down at him and they stepped back. Now he had a better view of this Force ghost.

A Torgruta, at least a head taller than him, wearing long flowing robes and patches of… stormtrooper armor? No, it was a little too angular for that. Clone trooper armor then. She had many decorative beads draped over her montrals and lekku and her face markings were very sharp and distinct.

“Well it’s true. What would you know of any of this?” He retorted back.

“Oh, you will find I know betrayal very well. After all, thousands of my children betrayed me.”

“…you’re talking about the clone troopers.”

“Indeed. My name is Jedi Master Shaak Ti, and during the war, I was stationed on Kamino, the home plant of the clones. I oversaw thousands of clones’ training, I gave them advice, I comforted them when their brothers were decommissioned. I fought with and for them all. But in the end, it was for naught. They executed almost all Jedi, even the youngest in the crèche and the eldest in the Halls of Healing.” He listened in awe.

“But I do not blame them. It was Palpatine who forced them to do this. Implanted a chip to control them with the right code words. They couldn’t control it, just as you could not control what happened with Ben Solo.”

“But I could have stopped this from happening, if only I had seen it!”

“What if’s and could have’s won’t change the past, Luke. All you can do now is look forward. What could you do in the future, if only you would forgive yourself.”

“I… I can’t go back. How can I face them? Leia, Han, Chewie? Their son Fell to the Dark side, because I wasn’t a good enough teacher.”

“Falling is a choice, Luke. Ben was manipulated by the Dark and Fell because of it. Not because you failed.”

“Heh. Sure, whatever you say.” He turned on his heel and began walking back down the hill to his hut.

He heard her sigh, and then felt her Force energy disperse.

[seb-owns-these-tatas]

Witcher Of The Night (Chapter 10)

THIS IS MODERN ERA READER WHO WOKE UP IN THE DIMENSION OF THE WITCHER.

WITCHER OF THE NIGHT MASTERLIST

CHAPTER 9

Characters: Geralt of Rivia x small!Naive!Reader

Summary: Geralt has found a djinn as your ticket for your way home. Though, some conditions doomed his fate. Your confession for the witcher got him climbing down towards the goal of sending you away; reconsidering what could happen when you stay for a week or maybe more. Howbeit, your panic-stricken confession lead into unlocking the Djinn out of its confinement and thus, leading you into becoming one possessed human and giving Geralt factual reasons as to why he was destined to you.

Warnings: Possessed reader. A gushing reader who managed to accidentally confess her feelings for the witcher. Upset Cirilla. Weird shit going on. Soft, hardheaded but smiley and frustrated Geralt all at once. A VERY MUCH NOT accurate words of Elder speech. AHONHONHON. I’m sorry in advance. Mention of blood. LOTS of Geralt Gif’s because…why not?

Words: 5.9k

A/N: You’ll have tension on the next chapters. When I mean tension, I mean sexual tension. I can hear y'all screaming and waiting for this moment to shine. HAHAHHAHAHA. I hope the wait is worth it.

TAGLIST IS STILL OPEN FOR THIS ONE! Heehee! Don’t forget to REBLOG, COMMENT OR GIVE FEEDBACK IF YOU DID LOVE THIS CHAPTER! IT’LL MAKE ME SMILE!

Disclaimer: PNG’s used in edits are not mine even the GIF’s too. However, the edits and oneshots are definitely from moi. Characters, places and said monsters aren’t from moi as well. GIF’s INCLUDED ARE CREDITED TO THOSE WHO MADE THEM! I DO NOT OWN THEM!

MY WORKS ARE NOT NOT NOT NOT NOOOOOOT TO BE POSTED ON ANY OTHER WEBSITES. My official username in Wattpad is “TATATHEPOTATO” and that’s the only other site I have for writing aside from Tumblr. Thank you, Tater tots!

You understood everything now. Very perfectly. Geralt was acting weirdly soft to you because he was finally throwing you away.

That was a more reasonable explanation to his sudden supple treatment towards you as you remembered how he was avoiding you the day before you were captured by those asshats. Though, it stopped there. He saved you and that was it. That was the only thing you remembered aside from the blurry image of you confessing something heartfelt to the witcher as he carried you to send you off to some healer.

You didn’t tell him anything ridiculous, didn’t you?

Those cheeky, dashing smiles he tries to give whenever he catches you staring made you narrow your eyes once you timidly avoided his beams like a blushing baby.

He was probably just happy that you were going to be out of his majestic hair once you wish for a genie to take you back home. It hurts to know that the witcher was happy and basically twerking inside his head about shooing you away.

Truly, your heart was feeling heavy because of it. The heavy feeling being brought as you had your steady hike with his family. Those lips that were jutted out in a pout was ineradicable even till the moment you’ve arrived at a tranquil looking lake.

Geralt took notice of your vexatious pout that was permanently carved as he threw the fishnet out in the lake. Dismissing your attitude with a faint shake of his head at the wonder why you were looking downright dejected when it was finally the time you could go home and leave the havoc that you were in.

“So, a Djinn is a fish? Since you’re using a fish net…” he’d heard you question the bard that was leaning on a dead tree, arms crossed like an executive in some company as he watched Geralt trawl for your Djinn. The witcher tugged on the rope of the fishnet and pulled; seeing no pitcher yet that had a Djinn and only an empty bottle of wine that was thrown out in the lake. He frustratingly exhaled a breath and ceaselessly tossed the fishnet back in the water.

Cirilla and Kolby were crouching down beside the swamp as they were playing with the water in their hands. Patiently waiting for whatever you were finding.

“Haven’t you heard of genies?” Jaskier bellowed, making your eyebrows twist together in ire for his attitude. You crossed your arm and gave yourself a second before a loud cajole left your lips, “—The mystical creatures that grant you three wishes?”

Your frowning self promptly turned the opposite as you remembered a movie that you’ve loved back in your laptop, “Oh! The one from Aladdin! Will the Genie come out of it? Is it a smoke of blue?!”

The bard let out a perceptible loud sigh, eyes focused at the witcher who was mindlessly cussing to himself for finding his Djinnie-Djinn-Djinn that took three hours already. He gave you a look that consisted of abounding judgement.

You shrugged to yourself; dusting off his sarcasm, “I suppose not,”

“—The last time it came out, it attacked my throat and gave me the ill-fate of having no voice to talk nor sing. I’ve been brought to a healer—thanks to Geralt and his selfless virtue, and been brought to an orgy which eventually; Yennefer–” Jaskier’s chatters were ceased by Geralt’s stern tone that echoed a meter away as he was hauling over his fishnet, audibly groaning as he felt something heavy that has been caught.

He hoped it was no monster or anything.

“That’s enough, Bard.”

Jaskier leaned off the dead tree, hands on either side of his hips as he looked offended by always being cut-off in the middle of his chitter-chatters with you, “Why do you always cut me off when it’s about the mage from Vengerberg?” a teasing pause. “—It’s like you don’t want me mentioning about her because the small rat is around,”

The witcher gave no response other than a displeased hum, not giving his amber eyes while the fish net dripped as he dragged it out to see some type of vase that had a peculiar seal, “Hmm.”

He’d heard a clap and it was from the bard, “Oh, a pitcher! It’s the Djinn!” before his voice suddenly upturned into a softer tone like he was avoiding something. The leaves crumpled beneath his shoe as you felt Jaskier discreetly side stepped away from you or everyone like a frog in the mud, “I’m just going to…give you space and peace like you hoped for,”

The message was for Geralt as he slowly but surely hid behind a tree where Cirilla and Kolby was. A distance which is still coherent for him to hear you both from a distance. You’ve eyed him like he was going loco when he gave a thumbs up behind the tree and peeked with only his head showing to the both of you, a beam on show.

“Don’t forget to make three wishes when the harsh wind hits you! Also, make it fast so it doesn’t thwack you in the neck!”

Geralt held onto the pitcher, inspecting a different seal in his hands. Much more different than the one they had decades ago. It was an eight figure hand clustered in a circle with random stars all over.

“Are you sure this wouldn’t be a snake in the grass, Geralt?” the witcher heard the bard speak from behind the tree, loud enough for you to hear his question thrown. There was a moment of silence as Geralt studied the pitcher a lot more closely, trying to understand and remember what the seal meant.

He’d finally taken the chance to voice out to the bard in a gruff tone, “As long as she doesn’t wish for anything that would mutilate anyone,”

You gave them looks; back and forth as they went on to their talk like you weren’t there with them. It’s not like you could understand whatever magic or terms they were even talking about. This was the problem for living in a world that you weren’t familiar with; not a single thing that you were used to besides the cooking. Other than that, their world was living in history that you somehow didn’t wish to have lived in.

With magic even involved in their lives like it was a normal thing.

“What if this backfires, Geralt? You know..like it would give her a tumor in the neck and then you’ll go find a healer again and—” Jaskier cut his sentence in haste when the witcher gave him a scolding glare. He’d shut his mouth, contemplating on what his next words would be.

“—You sure it’ll give her what she wants?”

“It can grant the most far-fetched wishes,”

“So, when you wished for peace prior to that day; giving me tumor is the best idea for your Djinn?”

Geralt gave him a mocking smile, one that consists that his patience was wearing thin again for the talkative bard who asks too much questions like he was the person who came from another world and not you, “But, it quite helped, didn’t it?”

The bard rolled his eyes back at him, puffing out a breath as he emerged behind the tree and leaned his shoulders on the dry wood; his face contorting in anxiety as he saw Kolby crouched in front who was giving him those puppy eyes.

You were too engrossed from their talk and didn’t notice Geralt who was now in front of you; handing over the pitcher where a Djinn was kept.

“As long as she’s the master, the Djinn won’t hurt her.” he reassured for you; feeling your agitation take over as you were realizing that there was a risk that their genie could hurt you. Though, those glowing eyes of his that resting on you; giving an unfamiliar tenderness of his gaze was simply telling you that it won’t happen.

But, the stingy feeling inside your heart wasn’t helping those warmth within his eyes.

“Make your wish, Midget.” he simply said, dropping his gaze for a second before returning back on your glum filled eyes, “—Once unbarred and has three of your wishes, the djinn is set free,”

You loosely held onto the pitcher like you were hesitant. It was there now. Your way for home. One of the options that can get you coming back from where you came from. Away from their chaotic world that had too many fremd explanations about their way of living other than earth where having a stable job was the only problem you had.

Not for the fear of monsters and people selling you off to some duke or king.

“—and…you are also..” the witcher drawled out his words, seeming to be in deep thought as his features turned stony and inexplainable, “—free. Back to where you came from,”

He sounded like he was choking when the witcher continued his speech; or maybe it was just you who wanted to think he actually didn’t want you leaving?

Shocking to say, you actually didn’t want to. His family was extraordinaire and caring. The type where they wouldn’t blink just to save you from danger even if it would involve them bleeding to death.

Geralt’s family was one of a kind. Thus, you realize how much of a family you had back in earth. A family who let you work overseas to help them in their lives as you work your ass off so they could pay their bills. It’s not that you weren’t thankful that they’ve taken care of you when you were a kid and even paid for your college fees, but sometimes working abroad can be depressing when you have no one around.

No one to hold and share your sadness with.

“What if I…” Wish to stay? your thoughts were in a mess. You trailed off and anxiously bit the insides of your cheeks as Geralt waited for you to finish your sentence. Yet, you clicked your tongue and changed what you wanted to say instead, “—What if it hurts me? As much as how it did to Jaskier?”

Geralt’s shook his head, frowning as he does so, “I won’t let that happen, midget.”

The way he said it; soft and reassuring like he promised that this option you had involves no pain. Leading you into yearning for something that seemed to be unreachable and utterly fantastical for it to happen in reality. That is; if their world was really your reality.

Nevertheless, you could feel every sorts of emotions and feelings. It was frustrating you to the point of being unreasonable by wanting to stay.

Jaskier faintly smiled as the bard realized what you were already holding. This was it. The last time to have you around. He was indecisive about it despite of him not wanting to welcome you warmly on the first day since you were hunted by an Alghoul. However, it seems like the latter had a change of heart and actually began to appreciate your annoying, little presence. Definitely like a cute rat that he probably feeds when nobody is looking.

“Should I bid you a goodbye right now?” he solemnly muttered as he fidgeted with his fingers. An action he does when he was anxious or thinking about something. You gave him back a gloomy smile and felt your chest feel even more heavier than it ever did.

The princess had her nose scrunched to its extent. Eyebrows furrowed in total bewilderment as she was trying to understand what was happening behind her back. “Why do we need to say farewell? To whom?”

Jaskier mustered up the courage to tell her, expecting for another set of her tantrums because of the sudden decision that Geralt has made for you, “—To Y/N.”

With just two words, it was enough for the princess to squeak and protest, completely objecting at the plan ahead as she gave the witcher a furious glare. “What? Geralt!”

She’d hopped forward against the muddy ground, hissing as she does so while Jaskier tried to catch her but she was too quick for him to slide away from. Geralt heard her heavy marches, closing his eyes in fatigue and stress as he murmured, “I shouldn’t have brought you both with me,”

It took five seconds for Cirilla’s steam to blow like a train; throwing angered protests at the witcher that was bound to protect her till the day she dies, “How dare you not tell me this?! I demand for her not to leave!”

“Princess.” Geralt firmly stated, a sigh leaving his lips as he does so and continued, “She doesn’t belong here,”

“I don’t want her to leave!”

“She belongs to her rightful dimension,”

Cirilla gave out a frustrated huff of her breath, snobbishly crossing her arms before the witcher as she gave him a scowl, “Don’t act like I didn’t see you both together in your bed last night, hugging her to sleep!”

Jaskier blinked repeatedly at that; giving the witcher a double take and also making you narrow your eyes at them from what they were pointing out.

The princess knew. She knew what she saw when she wanted to check if you were already awake yet and saw Geralt sleeping like a baby. Beside you with an arm surrounding you close as his palms rested along the middle of your back; intentionally avoiding the wounds before it could even open up itself.

It was the first time she ever saw the witcher having to sleep like a deadbeat without waking up due to his heightened senses because she tried to peek. He was completely vulnerable and seemed like to be in deep slumber; cuddling another person in his arms like it was his comfort.

“Cirilla Fiona Elen Riannon.” Geralt snarled, giving her the sharp eyes as and a tone that tells her to stop before he doesn’t talk to her for weeks end. He’d used her full name for the first time in forever and simply to say; Geralt was pissed.

Cirilla’s voice wavered, feeling her throat run dry and eyes seem to appear cloudy as she took in Geralt’s hostility towards the truth that has been said. He was always like this, pushing people away when he seemed to feel like they were finally having a connection; fearing for being attached and for what outcomes it may bring.

“You are certainly an idiot, Geralt.”

The witcher’s nose flared in discontent, her narks immediately went straight to his head as he wore a nasty scowl; letting the irritation straight out of his mouth as he starts spitting ire at everyone who seemed to make his life a little more difficult, “Are you done talking shit now?”

The princess went on with her glares, peering up at the witcher with a piercing glint of her eyes, “You never fail to disappoint me,”

“Thank you, Princess. I always do plan to disappoint people. Comes in becoming a witcher,” was the only sarcastic remark that the witcher managed to reply with a rough grouse and an obvious roll of his eyes.

In between their heated argument, Jaskier even had the guts to butt in like what he always do; his face sketched in opposition for the sudden decision at hand like Geralt wanted it done in haste, “Do you really need to go back? I mean, I’ve talked to Geralt about it last night! He’s just one stubborn witcher and trying to push you away because he’s scared of being attached! We can always keep your Djinnie-Djinn-Djinn and just use it when you feel like going home—”

The latter was harshly cut off by a gruff sputter of Geralt’s warning, “Bard.” his nose flared even more, “—Will you fucking shut up? Even just for a minute?”

You didn’t know what to do. Everyone was telling you not to do it yet, even your heart as well. It was crazy, to even choose between living in a dimension that was full of peril or a world where it keeps you depressed because something was hugely missing in your life back in earth.

There was someone intensely staring at your face and you knew it was the angered witcher, no doubt because he seemed like he wanted you away already, “Wish for what your heart desires, midget.” he lowly hissed and gave a nasty grimace to the two pair of people who was strongly ceasing the progression of you going home to where you belong.

Everybody didn’t dare to make any form of noise except for the Hirikka who was looking at you in curiosity; never knowing what was going on. Jaskier shook his head in disappointment at the witcher, giving him a look that was pure of dissatisfaction and it was the first time that the bard ever did. He was trying to make Geralt feel guilty for his decisions or whatsoever.

“Final words for us before you go, small rat?”

Your heart was downright heavy as you began to send off your final messages to the people who did nothing but be kind enough for letting you stay despite of not knowing who you are. You gave Cirilla a look full of warmth, faintly smiling back at the princess who was now sobbing because the only person whom she felt a different type of connection was now leaving. The idea of not being able to see you again because you didn’t belong to their world was giving her distraught as you were the only person she connected with that involved with a woman’s touch.

“To Cirilla,” you choked in your own words, feeling the hesitance in your throat as you evidently swallowed. “—Hey, don’t cry. You’re going to be the strongest and bravest woman I can ever know. With a witcher by your side, he’ll mold you into becoming a better person as well,”

Your voice was faltering like a thin sheet of paper. Silently, the witcher stared; feeling the heat of his gaze grazing on the side of your face as you continued to bid your goodbyes.

“Jaskier,” an acknowledge that made the bard scoff with a forced grin, trying to make the situation lighter for everyone, “I know you’re utterly enamoured by my singing, small rat. Now is the perfect time for your confession!”

You managed to roll your eyes a him, “Keep annoying everyone. I hope Kolby bites you in your sleep,”

“I shall die a brokenhearted man!”

Last but not the least, a message for the witcher who has always been saving you like a knight in shining armor. An expected knight in your fantasies.

Never even expecting to like him in a way that you wondered how it would be like to be his lover. Nonetheless, the thought was a blur because he wasn’t just a mere human. He was a mutated one and a person who takes his job very seriously as a monster-slayer.

Maybe being his other half would be pretty much an adventure.

“Geralt,” you turned your heel to face him, considering the distance that he was an arm away from you. He’d given you an apathetic gaze, masking in whatever he was feeling right now as you couldn’t see right through him as of the moment, “—I’ve seen this in the movies too much and I understand why you’re handling everything in silence,”

He was just that type of person. You knew because there has been lots of people you’ve encountered who had his type of personality and you understood his character completely.

Hence, the type of person he was needed care because they weren’t used to people caring for them. He needed the conciliatory affection because he craves for it even though he hardly says he don’t; and even when he does receives it, the brightest way to do it is to push that person away because he knew he didn’t deserve the tender care.

“You’re no monster for me,” you genuinely spoke with all your heart. Geralt’s stoic expression seeming to waver as you’ve given him a look of appreciation for everything he did for you, “—You’ll never be because I know you have a good heart,”

He gazed at you even longer than he should, eyebrows in a pained twist that created a frown etched on his face. What were you even saying? Your mind was literally a ball of yarn right now as you stand in front of him; thoughts flying elsewhere as you started to panic because you wanted something off your chest before you go. Permanently.

Therefore, your mind thought it was the right moment to confess such feelings that you knew it wouldn’t ever be said once you go back, you snapped your head away as you cringed for your stupidity, “—andthatIlikeyoubutnobodyneedstoknowthatbecauseIneverconfessedtoanymanever! Like really really like you. My heart is just–just pounding like a drum whenever you’re around—”

It was fast. A mere whisper of your heart being a YOLO little bitch by speaking out your feelings like a crazed woman offering some type of sacrifice as you were citing spells to your own; that type of fast talking that won’t get any normal person to understand the heck you wanted to comprehend.

You were idiotic enough to forget that he wasn’t any type of normal.

Geralt’s hum seem to stop your panicking mental state. His hum sounded perplexed and utterly…amused.

You swallowed the nervous jitters down your throat before opening an eye to see him cocking his head to the side, judging your embarrassed self and probably judging you from even confessing despite knowing it would be a one-sided affection from the witcher.

“Midget.” you’ve heard your conscience speaking to you, his tone somewhat quieter but still in that gruff voice of his that made your insides tingle. Your eyes was squinted shut as you looked away, avoiding his stares and went on with your audible monologue, “Oh my God, I should’ve wished first before confessing like a lovestruck high school girl,”

Geralt couldn’t help but subtly clear his throat. You always never fail to amaze him in terms of your panicking, clumsy gestures. He raised a surprised brow, thoroughly understanding what has happened prior to your rants.

“Midget.”

“You didn’t hear anything!” you squealed and held onto the handle of the Djinn, furiously tapping it with your index finger in sheer embarrassment for the failed confession. The witcher clicked his tongue, shifting on his own burly weight and keeping his teeth together as he tried to think of an answer to your sudden confession.

“Hmm.”

“What do you mean hmm? IT WAS JUST A WHISPER!?”

Jaskier had his forehead furrowed in utter curiosity, just hearing the soft mumbles and your yelping kept his curiosity at bay. Yet, he’d heard you screaming, “Small rat, don’t you know that witchers have heightened senses and he understood you a lot? Probably even hear your heart pounding fast every time you’re—”

You’ve snapped your eyes open, realizing you were covering your face away from the witcher who was faintly smirking down at you with an unfathomable twinkle in his eyes that weirded you out. However, Jaskier’s words seeming to whack you in the head for being stupid and not asking more for what the witcher’s abilities consists of.

“Wait, what? He can even hear my—I SHOULDN’T HAVE SAID THAT!” His super hearing caught you off-guard. You didn’t expect that he had that kind of skill because all you knew was that he was strong and exceptionally good at using his swords.

Well, the news definitely shocked you to the core. You were mouthing words at Jaskier as the bard narrowed his eyes back, not understanding a thing from your silent mouthing of words as you wanted the ground to eat you alive. “WHY DID NO ONE TELL ME, THEN?!”

Your hostile reactions was surely bewildering the bard, “Why? What did you tell him, Y/N?”

“Midget.”

You’ve heard Geralt’s stern baritone pitch of his, thus igniting a fast shake of your head as you could feel the heat travelling up in your face like a jet plane, ignoring the witcher who stood tall before you, “NOTHING, Jaskier! I’m so stupid!”

“Your reaction doesn’t mean nothing…”

The discomfort was making you deal with a lot of things. Rejection, anxiety and being a butter finger. Your eyes caught the Djinn wrapped around your fingers as you tried to cover your face from the witcher. So, you’ve did the inevitable and ungracefully held onto the seal before giving Geralt a once over.

Hence, you didn’t know what he was thinking when he suddenly ceased your wrists from doing so.

His bright amber eyes looked at you in warning, meeting yours in a reluctant shadow of his emotions when you’ve held onto the seal looking like he had a change of heart and didn’t want it to happen.

Maybe, it wasn’t too bad to let you stay for a little more while. Just a week or maybe more. His consciousness spoke at the back of his Ivory head. He wanted to make sure of something; if it was really destiny trying to play with his emotions for whatever bullcrap he was feeling when he’d heard your confession.

“Midget!” roughly scolded Geralt as he’d realized you already had opened the seal before he even stopped you. Jaskier had Cirilla and Kolby behind a far end tree as they watched you both struggle from trying to open the Djinn prior to your confession.

Both of you held onto the seal. Eyes locked onto each other; his in utmost dismay and worry as the pitcher was ajar from the seal, currently unimpeded from its body. Then, there was a strong ripple of the brisk wind clawing down your feet, crawling up the curves of your bodice in a way that could frighten you because it was not any normal.

The whistle of the wind came in with hushed voices that you couldn’t understand nor recognized. An invisible phantom of cold fingers reaching your head like it wanted to crush your skull as the voices whispered louder; like a spell that you couldn’t comprehend.

Your knees were giving up from the pain it wanted to bestow. Those eyelids of yours fluttering shut as the spirit was trying to suck on the energy you only had. But, you didn’t flop on the ground as you could feel tangible warmth surrounding your body; not letting you fall nor letting go.

The cluster of wind became stronger. You’ve heard him yell back, keeping you as close as he can and felt strong, calloused fingers grab onto the side of your face; shaking you awake as he kept you standing still, “Make your wish!” he loudly demanded amongst the rustle of everything.

The pitcher loosely lost its touch from you as it fell to the ground. A wish. You needed to make wishes. Your eyes drooped, blinking in a daze as your vision caught the only thing in your fore sight.

A medallion. His medallion. A witcher’s medallion that was currently vibrating on his chest like something alarming was happening or was nearby.

“I-I wish…” you whispered more so to yourself, hearing the witcher groan out loud as he tried hard to keep you still. The force trying to keep you both apart but Geralt wasn’t backing down nor did he plan on letting go.

Jaskier, Cirilla and Kolby had their palms over their ears from the harsh wind encircling them. Keeping still behind the huge Oak tree. Then, the winds abruptly ceased as they were crouched behind for cover.

You were unconscious for one second; your whole weight given to the witcher as he had an arm on the small of your back, your face tightly smothered on his hairy chest that you awfully find endearing and pleasing. You’ve inhaled a long breath like you weren’t given oxygen, batting your eyelashes up at the witcher who was supporting all your weight with his strength.

A listless look for the witcher was all it took for him to narrow his eyes back at you, checking for any signs that you weren’t you. Though, none. You were okay and…you were still there with them.

The bard peeked his head out, checking what happened when he seen you with complete limbs and being hugged by the witcher himself. Jaskier shrugged to whatever the hell happened and hollered, “Well, that was pretty much an anticlimax for the second time.”

Gently, the witcher pulled you away from him. His strong fingers clasped upon your shoulders as he eyed you very seriously. The sudden shift of the wind keeping him uneasy as he didn’t trusted the harmless process of having your wishes. “What did you wish for, Midget?”

You shook your head from the delicate pain in your head; sighing as you wearily told him, trying to give him a smile that appeared thoroughly forced because you kept on wincing and holding onto your temples, “Don’t wishes shouldn’t be told? Because it never comes true when it does? Especially when you wish upon the stars? I’m not telling it—”

Your words were cut short by a shrilling scream that made Jaskier, Cirilla and Kolby jumped from behind their tree; hastily striding to where you were. “Stay back!” the latter ceased them from coming any closer as you fell on the ground, back flat and your back arched in a horrifying way.

The veins in your throat was throbbing as you felt pain in the valley of your breast. A part that was scorching hot like you were being burnt alive. You painfully whimpered as your body felt fluid, desperately grasping onto your chest to relieve the pain or try to take off whatever causes it but there was none.

You yelped another loud scream; feeling it boring holes inside your body and in your heart. Geralt hurriedly knelt in panic, the panic suddenly crashing him like a freight train as his face was stern in confusion. He’d held onto the side if your neck, his thumb stroking your jaw which got you hissing as the pain incredibly added another; like a gas to the flames as you’ve moaned from the intolerable pain.

“Cáerme,” You’ve suddenly hushed, hearing the unfamiliar voices violently ruining your peace; making everything hurt as you whispered it out loud.

The witcher couldn’t help but stare you down in ponder and utter worry. He heard you. A word that sounded familiar but he didn’t quite understand as it only took a person who was an expertise in it that could interpret the words you started to say.

“Saov,” Geralt’s breath hitched, golden eyes agape and his expression in thorough shock as he tried shaking your body to wake you up from whatever is trying to possess you.

It was like fighting for something you could never see.

“Y/N!”

Amber eyes. Chalky white hair. A distinguishable face was the only image in your head as you could hear Geralt’s angered voice screaming ‘no!’ in the background; a blurry image sketched inside your head as he was fighting knights and unfamiliar people surrounding his family who came with him.

Including you.

With Jaskier and Cirilla who had blood staining their clothes as the night swallows her loud cries.

“Raenn,”

Despite of the witcher’s warning, the bard scooted off to where you were; dragging Cirilla with him as Kolby trailed like a pup. Howling at the same time as you screamed once more, “Geralt, what’s happening?!”

You’ve suddenly snapped your eyes opened as you threw your head back, the color of your eyes giving Jaskier a fright as he also knelt before you, his eyes bulging out of his eye sockets as he saw black. Raven black.

“Certainly not the small rat!” the bard shrieked before pulling away from peering down at you, falling onto his back as he gave Geralt a once over.

His brawny physique was crouched beside you, his wild, disheveled hair framing his face as he loudly groaned out loud like he was also in deep pain, seeming to hold onto his chest like he was having a toxic heart attack.

“Aep.”

Your words. It was used for magic and spells. Next thing Geralt knows is that he was suddenly pushed off the ground, his back hitting the ground with a loud thud as he felt phantom fingers keeping him steady and still. He harshly breathed through his nose, struggling with the force that was keeping him down.

Though, to no use; he couldn’t. It was some sort of potent spirit.

“Yn.”

Every word you say was filling vile inside his chest. It hurt as much as you did. But, he could withstand the pain more than you do as he was roughly growling beneath his chest.

“Geralt?!” Jaskier and Cirilla yelled out in chorus when they’ve seen him get hauled back by some unforeseen creature. Their focal point on Geralt that they didn’t notice you hurriedly crawling towards the witcher like a possessed woman.

You sat on his shredded, prominent torso once you’ve reached the witcher, tilting your head to the side as your eyes were completely pitch black. His eyelids fell shut once he was dragged down; Geralt was unconscious. You’ve held a palm in front of his face before uttering one last speech that certainly didn’t come from yourself. It was a bedevilled version of you that had no control over your system.

“Vatt'ghern.”

With that, you’ve leaned down very closely to his face. Warm breath hitting his face as you were tilting your head like a single strand of string can only be passed onto both of your lips together. The witcher sighed as he does so, face in a peaceful state as an unpredictable line of dark smoke escaped your lips, streaming down his ajar lips of the witcher who was down and unconscious.

Jaskier and Cirilla couldn’t move. They were dumbstruck at the scene that unfolded before them. All of your energy was taken from you as the possession has started and so, you’ve dropped dead on the ground. Closely beside Geralt as a blurry vision of you dropping on the rocky ground in the night sky ended your consciousness.

It was a blurry image that had you seeing Geralt run over for you, his face covered in grime and blood as he appeared to be on the verge of crying.

As your head fell on the ground with a soft thud; without warning, the witcher snapped his eyes open. Thick, robust fingers grasping onto his medallion that laid on his sturdy, bewhiskered chest. His eyelids drooping in total weary as he remembered a short event that concluded when he’d shortly fallen off in unconsciousness; giving him a dream as to why you were bound to him; destined to be with him forever.

The witcher saw a future with you. It wasn’t just any ordinary dream that he had because this time; he was euphoric in it. Utterly happy and smiling with you in the picture.

Destiny really never fails to fuck him hard for the second damn time.

YES. THIS IS ANOTHER ONE OF MY FAVE CHAPTERS THAT I’VE WRITTEN. Guess what midget wished for? 

Taglist: @alyxkbrl​​ @himarisolace​​ @barkingbullfrog​​ @ayamenimthiriel​​ @hellodevilslittlesister​​ @vania-marie​​ @spookypeachx​ @grungelovebug @fangirl-inthe-us​ @nympeth​ @amirahiddleston​ @gabethelobster​ @dreaming-about-starfleet​ @uncoolcloudyhead​ @melaninstylezz​ @psychosupernatural​ @missjenniferb @dance-dreamer​​​​ @marvelousell​​​​ @kingniazx​​​​ @angelias134​​​​ @tapismyforte​​ @chook007