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thebearer · 1 year

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i'll make you so sure about it |carmen berzatto x reader|

prompt: a run in with "claire-bear" leaves you bristled with jealousy. carmen assures you there's no need to be.

contains: minors dni 18+. mean-ish reader (she's jealous), dom/sub dynamics, dom!carmen, kinda brat tamer!carmen too, language, mentions to past relationships, fingering (fem rec), p in v sex, aftercare.

“What else is on the list?” Carmen pushed the cart through the aisles of the grocery store, tossing the figs into the basket.

“Black garlic.” You marked through the scratchy handwriting that belonged to Carmen, pen tapping on the small notepad. “Never heard of black garlic.”

“Really?” Carmen hummed in amusement, a tiny smile that was soft but warm- just for you. “You’ve had it before.”

“Have I?” You lifted a brow. “You’ve been sneaking things in my food, hm?”

“Tryna expand your palette, babe.” Carmen scoffed, pulling you in by your waist into him.

You laughed, looking down at your list, squirming when his fingers ghosted over your sides. “Oh, shoot, I forgot we need detergent.” You hiss, looking at the bottle of Tide in the cart beside you. “I’m gonna go grab that, and you get the rest on the list?”

Carmen nodded, taking the pad and pen out of your hand. “I got it. I’ll be over here, alright?” He nods towards the produce.

You head in the opposite direction, spilling off in the frozen aisles to head back towards the cleaning section, snatching the detergent off the shelf. You’d have to run by the little apothecary shop down on Main to get more of the scent boosters you liked- that Carmen liked. He liked how your sheets always smelled when you first started dating, soft and clean and sweet somehow? Fuck, he wasn’t even sure how, but when you moved in with him, that smell lingered into his clothes, his sheet. He’d catch whiffs during the day at work, a calming breeze that grounded him, kept his mind rushing back to you.

You scanned the produce section, finding the familiar head of curls tucked under a Bears hat. You had bought him that hat, a little playful joke since some customers were always asking if the restaurant was named after the team. It infuriated Carmen, annoyed him to no end, but the hat? He rolled his eyes, muttering something about you being “real funny” in a sarcastic tone, but he wore it anyway. It was a nice hat, what can he say?

Carmen was on the end, a grip on his basket that had you a little suspect, until you saw the other basket, parked next to his, a girl leaning towards Carmen. Your heart dropped, a spike of jealousy, hot and blinding shooting through your spine.

“...You know I meant to stop by the restaurant last week, but I was so busy with rounds. You were closed by the time I got off.” The girl bragged, loud enough so the ones around her would be impressed. You wanted to scoff, did she not know this was Chicago?

“Oh, that’s too bad.” You could hear the edge in Carmen’s voice, and not the usual one that accompanied with unprompted social interaction. This was one harder, a strain that had you suspicious at the defensiveness.

“Hey, Carmy,” You muttered, stepping beside him. He jumped when you did, eyes wide and scared like he’d been caught. “I got the detergent.” You placed it in the basket, trying to avoid the eyes of the girl in front of you.

“Oh, uh, that’s great. Thank you.” Carmen’s hand found your waist easily, but you didn’t miss the way his hand rubbed on his jeans first, wiping the sweat off.

“Hi,” The girl said, a tight lipped, forced smile that you knew all too well. “I’m Claire.”

You gave it back, a snarl and cutting eyes, letting your name slide through your clenched teeth- a threat. “Yeah, uh, Claire and I…we, uh, used to go to school together.” Carmen stuttered.

“Really? That’s it, Bear?” Claire laughed. Your spine straightened, the primal urge to ram your cart into hers so it sent the handle flying into her stomach because she used your nickname- maybe she’d break a rib.

Your eyes cut to Carmen’s, lips rolling into a pursed pucker. Carmen flushed, red cheeks that spread to his ears, down to his neck. “Well, I mean, Claire’s real close with my family too.” Carmen offered, looking down at you, his heart dropping when he did. Fuck, you were pissed.

“Richie and Mikey used to call me Claire Bear all the time.” She laughed, a forced, mean girl-esque laugh. “Used to tease Carmy for always drawing me.”

“Oh?” You quipped, turning to Carmen with narrowed eyes. “Well, that’s funny. You must’ve been really close to get the Bear nickname too.” You hummed, an edge to your voice that had Carmen’s stomach dropping. He felt like he was going to be sick, under your gaze, hard eyes that questioned and challenged him.

“Oh, yeah, we were always really close, weren’t we, Carmen?” Claire batted her eyes at him, and for a moment, you had to grip the basket. Stop yourself from slamming her head into the fridge.

Carmen looked like he might pass out, palms rubbing against his jeans, eyes bouncing from you to her. “Y’know we should catch up sometime, Carmy. I’d love to see Sugar and Richie.”

“Yeah, I-I’m not sure what they’re-”

“-You know what.” You snipped, teeth ground tight. “I think I’ll finish shopping, and you two can catch up, alright?” You snatch the list out of Carmen’s hand. “It was so nice to meet you, Claire.”

Carmen can feel your anger even after you stomp away, whizzing into the next aisle, slinging the basket with so much fury the detergent slides and he cringes as he thinks about the plums that probably got crushed.

“Uh-oh,” Claire snickers. “Looks like I got you in trouble.”

“Yeah- I mean, no, she’s just… We have plans later, so I gotta go. Tell your family I said hello.” Carmen nods, barely hearing her reply before he’s chasing you down the aisles.

“Baby, hey, c’mon-”

“Don’t.” You hissed, shoving Carmen’s hand off you. “Go back and talk to Claire Bear.” You snarled, voice rising in pitch to mock the name.

“Don’t do this.” Carmen’s stomach turned, twisting with that familiar twinge of anxiety. His eyes were already darting towards the far end of the store, feeling like he needed to get a bottle of Pepto… maybe two.

“Do what?” You snapped, huffing at him. “Honestly, Carmen, how would you feel if I ran into one of my old exes and they were talkin’ to me like that, huh?”

“She’s not an ex-”

“-Oh? She isn’t?” You deadpanned, glaring at Carmen. He faltered, eyes darting from your gaze just for a moment. “You’re such a fucking liar, Carmen, I’m not stupid.” You huffed, shoving the cart.

“Hey,” Carmen snapped, heavy hand landing on the cart’s handle to stop it. “Cut it out, alright?”

That only made you bristle even more, bouts of fury that spiked through your body. You wanted to scream, cause a scene and storm out, leaving him mortified and standing there with everyone staring at him. A few years ago, you would have.

Instead, you slammed the rest of the list into the seat of the cart. “Give me the keys.” You huffed.

“What? You can’t-”

“-I’m going to sit in the fucking car, Carmen. Give me the fucking keys.” You growl, louder this time, turning the head of a passerby.

Carmen flushed, furiously, shaking hands fishing his keys out of his pocket, dropping them in your hand. “D-Do you need anything else not on the list?” He asked softly, a hope that you might soften at his tone.

You didn’t reply, turning on your heel instead, stomping out of the sliding doors. Carmen felt his stomach turn, lurching in his throat, heart hammering so hard sweat was forming at his hairline under the hat. He definitely needed that Pepto now.

“She’s just a friend! A childhood friend, that-that I don’t even talk to!” Carmen huffed, his voice rising. You had been on him, furious and accusing from the moment he got in the car, all the way home, carrying the groceries up the steps of the apartment.

“That you fucked!” Your voice shrilled loud enough Carmen flinched, knowing the neighbors would hear. “You fucked her!”

“I-I… like one time!” Carmen stuttered, throwing his hands out in exasperation. He set the detergent with a heavy thud on the counter, glaring at it. It was the detergent’s fucking fault this happend, Carmen thought. He should have just gone with you or gotten the detergent instead- fuck, why did he have to run into Claire out of all people.

“I knew it!” You smacked your hand against the cabinet. “I fuckin’ knew it! God, you are such a liar, Carmen!”

“How did I lie? How? Hey, get back here, I’m talkin’ to you!” Carmen had reached his breaking point, beyond irritated and frustrated.

“Fuck you, Carmen. Just a friend, my fuckin’ ass.” You growled, pushing the door to your bedroom open so quickly it hit the wall, the door stopper buzzing angrily.

“Can you- Can you just listen to me, please?” Carmen took a grounding breath, pinching the bridge of his nose with clammy, uncomfortable hands.

“Listen to you what? Listen to you tell me how you’ve known Claire Bear your whole life? And how the two of you have sooo much history together?” You sneer, teeth baring in a sort of growl that made Carmen’s heart spike with anger…maybe fear… maybe both?

“We don’t have… Baby, I-I really don’t fuckin’ know what you want from me here, alright? I don’t like Claire.” Carmen huffed.

“Anymore.” You muttered, bitterly.

“Yeah, anymore. I don’t- wait.” Carmen held up his hand, realization washing over him. “Wait a fuckin’ second. Are you- Are you jealous right now?”

“Shut up, Carmen-”

“-Oh my God! Holy shit! You’re jealous?” His tone was far too light, nearly mocking, throwing his hands up in exasperation. “Why the fuck are you jealous?”

“Oh, fuck you, Carmen! Like you wouldn’t be jealous if my ex was all over me like that in front of you!” You countered bitterly, satisfied at the way his jaw flexed at the thought.

“Yeah, but your ex doesn’t have you, I do.” Carmen said, an edge in his voice that had ice shooting down your spine, a tingle spreading between your legs. He took a step forward, so close to you, his eyes were piercing into you, cutting right through your soul. “And Claire or-or anyone else doesn't have me, alright? You fuckin’ got me.”

You tried to stay strong, keep your facade up for a little longer, not let him know how your knees were buckling under his stare. “Still, Carm,” Your voice was softer now, on the edge of a whine. “‘S not fair you let her talk to you like that in front of me.”

“What did you want me to do?” Carmen scoffed, his hand finding your hip. “She only talked like that because she knew I was with you. Wanted to get under your skin, and you fuckin’ let her.”

“I did not-”

“Oh?” Carmen’s tone lilted, leaving you blushing furiously under his challenging gaze. “That’s why you threw a whole goddam fit? Fuckin’ leavin’ the store? Bitchin’ me out the whole way home?”

You pouted, huffing at the meanness in his tone. Carmen’s hand caught your jaw, pulling your gaze back to him. “You acted bad, and for what? I don’t want her. I don’t want anyone but you, you know that.” Your cheeks burned with heat, hoping he couldn’t see how flustered he was making you, scolding you like this. Oh, you were fucking throbbing.

“Even when you’re mean to me like that. You know I only want you. Don’t insult me like that, thinkin’ I’d ever want someone else, you got me?” Carmen snapped.

“Yes, Carmen.” You muttered, eyes rolling to the floor.

“Who?” Carmen growled, jerking your chin back to him.

You blushed, thighs rubbing together. You knew what he wanted, what was coming. “Yes, Daddy.” You muttered, pitch rising in your tone to that light airy voice you used when you played, reserved just for him.

Carmen hummed satisfied, letting his hand slide down your jaw, fingers curling and tilting your chin upwards towards him. “Why would you think I wanted anyone else, hm?” Carmen rasped, lips brushing over yours but not giving into you yet- teasing you. His free hand slid down your waist, slowly, pinky toying with the edge of your leggings. “You know you’re it for me. Don’t you?”

“Yes, Daddy.” You hummed, his hand sneaking under the stretchy elastic of your pants, sliding closer and closer to where you needed him most.

Carmen’s lips slid over your soft skin, finally pressing to the corner of your mouth. His fingers cupping your mound, sliding over your clothed slit teasingly. “Think I need to remind you, hm? D’you forget? That’s it?” Carmen rasped, pointer finger pressing against the cotton of your panties, circling over your clit.

You gasped, clawing at his shoulders, his lips trailing down your jaw, free hand moving to hold you by the back of your neck, keeping you still while you squirmed against his touch. “Think I need to remind you, baby.” Carmen growled, the vibrations from his voice muffled on your skin, sending shockwaves to your core. “That what I need t’do, huh?”

“Yes.” You whined, nasally and desperate, abdomen already clenching at the way he was working your clit. “Please.” You begged.

“Please, what? Huh? Who’re you talkin’ to?” Carmen hummed, teeth grazing over the sensitive spot on your neck that had you lurching, knees buckling at the combined sensations.

“Please, Daddy.” You panted, eyes rolling back when he licked over your neck, fingers pressing harder, rubbing tighter circles around your clit.

You could feel how hard Carmen was, bulge rubbing against your hip, trying to satisfy his own throbbing. Your nails sunk into his skin, sure you’d leave marks, but you were sure he wouldn’t care. “You want me to take care of you? Want me to show you?” Carmen asked, so sweetly it made you gush, clenching around nothing, desperate for him to fill you up.

“Yes, please, Daddy. Please.” You shuddered, a strangled breathy moan falling past your lips. “I need it so bad, please.”

Carmen’s pace picked up furiously, a groan leaving his lips when he sucked at your sensitive skin there, hand tightening around the back of your neck to keep you in place. You could feel your legs shake, Carmen’s pace steadying and keeping tight circles around your clit, sending you reeling and jerking with every graze of his tongue, clinging to him while you fell apart- too easily. He did this to you too easily, knew you too well so he could.

Carmen’s hand pulled out of your pants, your panties soaked with your own slick, some coating his fingers where you leaked through the fabric. Carmen let them pass in front of you, eyes locked to yours when he slipped them in his mouth, your breath hitching when he cleaned your release off his fingers.

“Out of your fuckin’ mind if you think I want anyone else.” Carmen’s eyes darkened, holding your gaze in a menacing way. “Nobody tastes fuckin’ better than you, are you crazy? Thinkin’ I’d want someone else.” Carmen scoffed, leaving you shuddering, still reeling from your own high.

“Take those clothes off and get on the bed. I’ll show you who you belong to. Who I belong to.” Carmen’s head jerked towards the bed.

You scrambled towards it, shoving off your legging and peeling off clothes, tossing them into the corner of the room. You were slick, still pulsing from moments before, lying back on the edge of the bed with parted legs. The sick click of your own wetness filling the room when you spread yourself- oh, Carmen was sure he was going to pass out, looking at you spread and wet and waiting for him. All for him. If it wasn’t for the near painful throbbing of his cock, he would have devoured you, made you cum over and over and over on his tongue until his mouth was drenched with you, your scent filling his nose. Another time, he decided, pumping himself a few times.

“You know, you really piss me off sayin’ shit like that.” Carmen huffed, pushing his hair back with his hand, inked fingers running through those blonde curls that were your weakness.

You look at him, feeling the fat head of his cock rubbing through your folds, teasing you already. “Actin’ like I’d ever want somebody else. Gettin’ jealous and for what, huh? Just actin’ out.” Carmen leaned down, folding his body so it was over yours, his face inches from your own. “You know you’re the only one for me. Only one I’d ever want.”

He didn’t give you a chance to reply, pushing in deeply in one swift movement, filling you entirely with his length. You gasped, clawing at his shoulder blades until he was flush against you, your breath stammering, eyes rolling back at the stretch.

Carmen waited, feeling you relax around him until he moved, a hard snap of his hips, unforgiving and painfully slow, rolling into you. You whined, a high pitched gasp, Carmen’s lips pressing to your wrist gently. He let his hips roll, getting into a steady, hard pace that left you drooling, eyes rolling back at each calculated jab to the sweet spot inside of you. The way you were clenching, Carmen knew he wasn’t going to last long.

“Thinkin’ I’d want somebody else,” Carmen scoffed between gritted teeth, swallowing back the groan in the back of his throat at the way your pussy was strangling him right now. “I told you a million- shit- a million times before, baby. You’re it for me. You got that?”

“Y-Yes, Carmy.” You shuddered, eyes already glossing over, mind numbing and reeling all at once. Your legs were shaking, burning already with another build up of pleasure. Carmen’s hips snapped, leaving you crying out, your own moans bouncing off the walls.

Carmen chose not to correct you, muscles tightening in his legs and abs, trying to keep himself from spilling too soon. He knew you were close, could see it in your eyes, the rounding of your mouth. Leaning down, Carmen buried himself back into your neck, pushed into your skin. His own soft whines muffled against you, leaving you soaring with adoration, swimming in pleasure.

“I don’t want anyone else but you.” Carmen admitted, hidden in the slick skin of your neck, a much softer admission than anything before. It was sincere, leaving you burning with heat, shaking as the tight coil in your tummy unraveled.

Carmen felt you gush over him, wetting the hair at the base of his pelvis, before he pushed himself back up, pounding hard and deep inside of you to finish himself off. Hot breath hitting your neck, tiny whines and groans of pleasure buzzing in your ear before he finished, spilling inside of you with long, slow strokes.

Carmen collapsed on top of you, his own mind racing and cloudy, chest heaving against yours. You sighed, welcoming the weight of him on top of you. It was heavy, a little crushing, but safe in a way. It was him, smothering you in the best way.

He rolled off, a few huffs before he was beside you, feeling his release run out of you. You didn’t even care, you had the detergent- you’d clean the sheets.

“You know I don’t like her.” Carmen muttered, still staring at the ceiling. You turned to look at him, silent but questioning. “Claire, or-or anyone, right?” Carmen’s eyes were rounded, filled with a familiar guilt that told you his mind was racing again.

“I only like- I only love you.” Carmen corrected, lips pressing together, jaw flexing with emotion. “I-I don’t know why she did that, but… Like, you’re it for me. You know that? I don’t care about any of that other shit with Claire or-or anyone, because I just want you.”

It was raw, a little hushed like he was scared to admit it, to say it too loud and scare you off- scare himself. But you did know it. Even through your blind, jealous rage, you knew it. You knew Carmen only cared for you, only loved you. And you felt the same way about him.

“I know.” You nodded, reaching out to grab his hand, curling your fingers around the calloused fingers, bringing them to your lips. You kissed the inked ‘O’ on his middle finger, letting your nose nuzzle the skin.

“I’m sorry I got jealous.” You muttered, leaning into his hand, hoping it would hide your flushed, embarrassed cheeks. “I just… I don’t know. I didn’t like how she was trying it with you. Trying to come at what’s mine.”

Carmen grinned, the possessiveness in your voice, it made his heart skip. Knowing there was someone out there so fiercely protective of him- wanting to keep him and love him that way. It was something he never imagined having. He was glad he had it with you.

“I know.” Carmen nodded, biting back his own grin. “You got me, though. ‘M not goin’ anywhere.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Carmen nodded, sliding closer to you on the duvet, letting his leg fall over your hip.

You settled under the weight, still cradling his hand to your cheek. “Good.” You hummed. “‘M not goin’ anywhere either, Bear.”

“You better not.” Carmen grinned, playfully but he meant it.

You laughed, a breathy light huff, lips pressing a kiss into his thumb. “Well, except to clean the sheets.” You muttered, feeling the wetness pooling around you. “Probably need to do that.”

“Yeah,” Carmen sighed, looking between the two of you. “I need to put the rest of the groceries away, too. Kinda got… distracted, ya know.”

You blushed. “Sorry about that.”

“Don’t be.” Carmen muttered, sincerity in his tone. “You-You don’t have to be sorry for that.”

You didn’t argue, simply melting into his touch, leaning forward so his lips were on yours, body pressing your into the mattress, pinned by his kiss. You could feel the burn between your legs, the raised skin on his shoulders where you’d clawed at him- marks that he was yours, reminders that you were his.

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mydearlybeloathed · 4 months

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── 𝐒𝐀𝐈𝐋 𝐀𝐆𝐀𝐈𝐍 ³

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: in the aftermath of zoro's fight with mihawk, you and he have some reflecting.

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: opla!zoro x apothecary!reader

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 4k

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭: at long last it is finished, tw blood mention, somewhat of an epilogue, no use of Y/N

𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: november

series masterlist

Everything had happened so fast, and all you could do was stand and stare at your hands. You were shaky all over, but your hands especially; your fingertips and palms were stained by the blood you’d tried to stop flowing from Zoro’s chest.

And all you could do was stand and shake.

Only when Luffy’s hand closed around your wrist and he jerked you along with him did you come back to yourself, still gasping for air as tears filled your eyes. “Luffy—Zoro—He’s…”

“He’s fine,” Luffy barked back before softening at the sight of you. “He’ll be fine.”

For once, you doubted him.

You had wanted to beg Zoro to let it go. To plead with him the moment you laid eyes on that Hawkeye. To shout for him to get some sense and wait for a few more years of experience before taking on his last obstacle. But if you did, if you asked him to back down, you feared he would never trust you again.

Angry huffs of breath left Nami, her glare baring into the stubborn swordsman beside you. She was begging and pleading as your heart longed to do, and it took everything in you to stand strong beside your lover.

“Y/N,” she hissed, drawing your eyes up to hers. “You’re gonna let him do this?”

Your hand sought out Zoro’s beneath the table, finding solace in wrapping your fingers around his. “Yes.”

She gaped, hands gripping the table. “He’s going to die! Don’t you love him at all—”

Your whole body jerked as you made to round the table and smack her, when Zoro’s hand tightened around yours, holding you in place. Heart pounding in your ears, you swallowed thickly and sighed shakily.

“Zoro needs to do this,” you nearly spat. “You wouldn’t understand.”

She backed down when she got no help from anyone, storming out of the room with watery eyes. Luffy and Usopp followed soon after, leaving you and your swordsman. Wordlessly, you pulled him to sit beside you at the nearby couch, leaning your head on his shoulder whilst he worked don sharpening his blades.

“Thank you,” he whispered, prompting you to turn your head and kiss his shoulder, fretful tears welling in your eyes.

Close to sobbing, you followed the rest of them as they hauled Zoro’s body onto the ship and down to the galley. It all grew worse at the sight of Zoro’s bloodied body laid upon the table, his brow pinched in agony.

Nami heaved a breath, frantic eyes scanning over Zoro’s wound. Usopp was searching for a first aid kit, finding only your bag of herbs and bottles. It slipped from his shaky hands, the bottles rolling around the kitchen.

Nami narrowed her gaze at you. “Aren’t you a doctor? Do something!”

You shook your head. “I—I’m not—I don’t—I can’t—”

“Luffy,” Nami cut off your rambling. “Go to the restaurant and find a doctor. Go!”

He took off in an instant. You trembled, unable to look away from Zoro. It all moved so fast; the Baratie’s owner and sous chef rushed in after Luffy, the former immediately setting to work cutting up a fish.

“Fish?” you blurted, voice cracking. “How is a fish—”

“Can it,” Zeff snapped, cracking off the fish’s head. “If yer gonna yap, have some liquor.”

You stood gaping at him, eyes wide even as Usopp grabbed the bottle and slowly inched it toward you. Even as you glared you swiped it and took a swig, slamming it back down onto the table.

The liquor snapped you to attention. You stumbled to stand at the end of the table where Zoro’s head lay. A thick and tense silence washed over the galley as Zeff worked, yet it all felt so loud. Your red stained hands drifted to brush Zoro’s hair off his damp forehead.

Zoro winced as Zeff stitched up the largest gash first. One shaky hand moved to feel at your back, a dark part of you musing that you would match when the wound scarred. Like the front and back of a coin.

Shoving the thought down, your fingertips trailed over his cheek, drawing an invisible line down his forehead and nose. Over and over, you gently caressed his face in that circular motion, the crease of his brows softening, and you forced every sound to go dim.

Writhing in pain, your squirming made it difficult for Zoro’s to hold you without hurting you even more. The dingy he’d taken from the now slain pirates drifted back out to sea, abandoned as Zoro raced toward the light of the village.

No one walked the streets in the dead of night, so Zoro shouted, his voice bellowed into the stillness, demanding someone help him. Just as his eyes gazed over your contorted expression, his hopeless howling was answered by a light flooding out from the building on his right.

The woman barely blinked as she ushered him inside, ordering him to lay you on your chest atop her kitchen table. He was talking, muffled sounds barely words stuttering out of him. Vee calmed him best she could, but she couldn’t focus with him bumbling around like this.

“Listen, boy,” she said lowly. “You wanna help her?” She waited for him to nod before going on. “Stand here, right where her head is. Good. Now, you wanna help?”

You whimpered, your head turned to the side so Zoro could plainly see how your whole face reflected misery. He choked the word out, “Yeah.”

“Watch.” She reached out a hand toward your face, and despite his gut instinct to sever her hand, he stood back and watched as Vee pinched her fingertips together and placed them on your forehead, expanding her fingers like a firework and grazing them down the sides of your face.

She repeated the motion, and Zoro sighed out a gasp as the distressed pinch of your brows gave way to a more eased expression. Vee stepped back calmly, nodded at Zoro as she grabbed a set of scissors and cut open your shirt.

Zoro’s eyes immediately found the wound, a thick slash down your back, oozing with your blood, and his chest seized. Vee shot him a glare. “Pull yourself together, pirate hunter.”

He hadn’t introduced himself, and the fact that Vee already deduced who he was irked him, but he snapped to action instantly. He started the same motion as Vee, caressing your face and marveling at how you calmed under his touch.

“Hold her hand,” ordered Vee. She was pouring a bottle of clear liquid onto a rag. “This is gonna sting.”

Even when Vee was done and your wound was bandaged, he continued that firework motion on your face as if in a daze. You would stir in your sleep, a little grin gracing your face at his touch, but when you woke, he was nowhere in sight, the faint memory warming your face.

You cupped a hand over your cheek, inhaling deeply, hand stilling. Zeff glanced up from lining the stitches with fish skin, some old pirate trick he said, and noticed your ministrations to Zoro’s face.

“Who taught you tha’?” Zeff wondered, if only to distract you.

Blinking rapidly, you retracted your hands to your sides. “Uhm. A doctor from Gecko Island.”

Zeff nodded. “Well, don’t stop. Let's ‘im know you’re there.”

He’s between life and death, Zeff went on to say. Talk to him, sing to him for all I care. Let him know you’re here, and maybe he’ll stick to this side of life.

You tried to help move Zoro to your bed, but you felt glued to the ground. Even if you did manage to move, you couldn’t stop shaking no matter how you tried. Sanji, Usopp, and Luffy handled moving him, your eyes following their retreat down the hall.

“Hey,” Nami appeared at your side, her hand resting on your arm. “You there?”

“Mhmm. I’m good.” The quake in your voice said otherwise. “Where is he?”

Nami tugged on your arm, leading you to the bedroom you’d been given. Usopp and Luffy stood over the near lifeless Zoro. You shook Nami’s hand off, your feet carrying you swiftly to his side as you practically shoved Usopp aside.

Your hand ghosted his cheek, breath catching. “It’s all my fault.”

“No, it’s not,” Nami scoffed. “I doubt you could have changed his mind even if you tried.”

She was right, but still. What if you had tried? Would he hate you? Would he have listened? Your legs started to shake, and a moment later Usopp was there with a chair, setting a hand on your shoulder to ease you onto it. You choked on a sob, the act alone nearly casting you over the edge.

Nami watched it all with a set jaw, frustration boiling under her skin. She held back all her venomous words if only for your sake, currently seeing you as more glass than person.

“Come on,” she muttered to the others. “Y/N’ll talk to him first.”

They’d left before you could bring yourself to ask one to stay, and you were left staring at Zoro’s contorted face. What do I even say?

At a loss, you reached for his hand, tentatively taking it in both of yours. For a time, you only stared at him, void expression conveying nothing to Usopp when he entered the room an hour later.

“You doing okay?” he asked, wary as he leaned against one of the beams holding your bed to the ceiling.

You shot him a sharp look, biting back what you really wanted to reply with. “I… have no clue what to say to him.”

He seemed to actually contemplate his answer, lips pursed before he offered, “Whatever’s on your mind is fine. I think it's more about hearing you than what you’re saying.”

You hissed out a sigh as you returned your gaze to Zoro, taking in his condition for the umpteenth time, and forced out some words, gently running your thumb over the back of his hand. “Listen… you better fucken wake up. I didn’t wait three years for you to die on me, idiot. So…” Please. Be okay.

Usopp blinked widely, his shoulders tense as he nodded slowly. “Ok–ay, not exactly what I meant.”

“That’s what's on my mind,” you bit back.

“Maybe it should have stayed in mind.” You stood with a grunt, releasing Zoro’s hand and turning away from his battered form.

“You talk to him, if you’re the expert,” you snapped as you went for the door. Usopp tried to reach for your arm, an apology on his tongue, but you jerked away from him and bolted around the corner.

Only when you were out of sight and sound did you let a strangled cry slip past your lips, before swallowing it back down and holding your shaking hands to your chest. You wanted to go back, to hold him and never let go… later, when you could get a grip again.

A long story short, you had no time to get a grip.

જ⁀➴

Everything… was very wrong. In the span of a few hours, Nami turned out to be working with the fishman Arlong the Saw, Luffy nearly died a watery death, and the crew gained a chef. That last bit wasn’t so wrong, but all you could focus on was the negative.

Your hands stayed folded in your lap lest they quiver and reveal your distress. Zoro lay just down the hall, on your own bed, under your own sheets. If only he would wake up. You needed to see his eyes and hold his hand and have it not go limp in yours.

Sanji chopped vegetables at the countertop, occasionally shooting you a glance. Pushing all the carrots into a pile, he cleared his throat. “Uh, that trick you did was pretty cool.”

His accent was nice and smooth, almost serving to relax the tension wrought though your body. You eyes lazily moved to find his figure across the galley. “Thanks.”

“So you’re a chemist?” he kept on. “It’s either that or a witch, and you don’t look the witchy type.”

A grin tugged at your lips. “Uhm, yeah. I’m an apothecary. The bombs were just something I threw together.”

The fight with Arlong the Saw had gone… expectedly. He tossed you all around like a bunch of ragdolls. You’d gotten one hit in using the element of surprise, hurling a vial of chemical at his head that exploded on impact. He dodged or caught all the rest, nearly crushing you into the ground before Luffy stepped in and wrangled the fishman around the neck.

You shivered at the memory as Sanji sent you a smile. “Well, I thought it was badass.”

You managed a short laugh. “Thanks, waiter.”

Just as the chef started to protest the use of the name, a loud, cheerful voice rang throughout the ship.

“Zoro!”

Your heart panged in your chest, and all at once you pushed to your feet and sprinted to your room, running into the wall and teetering on your feet. You practically rammed yourself into the doorframe, chest heaving, eyes blown wide… and there he was.

Zoro’s eyes were all squinty from smiling at Luffy, who loomed ove rhim excitedly. His gaze shifted to where you loomed in the doorway, your heavy breathing drawing his attention. He murmured your name and wincingly pushed himself up, drawing you to his side as you helped him. Luffy slipped off the bed and fluffed a pillow absently, absolutely beaming.

All you could do was stare at Zoro, face screwed together from a mistire of emotions. Zoro was much to same, his expression unsure. Luffy just kept on grining till Usopp slid into the doorway, took one look at the situation, and dragged the captain out, slamming the door behind him.

You winced at the sound, eyes averted briefly before Zoro’s hand found yours, and you snapped back around to look at him. Your eyes flickered to the bandages covering his torso, your fingers dellicately grazing the gauze.

Zoro followed your every move carefully, features softening. He drew you near so you were sat before him. “You think our scars will match?”

Your lips twitched into a grin. “I hope so.”

The silence was welcomed, soft touches passed between you, content with breathing in the other’s presence. Only when you started blinking rapidly did you notice your eyes growing watery. “I thought I’d lost you. His sword—I don’t know how you survived.”

“He let me live,” Zoro murmured, like he wished otherwise, and your stomach churned uncformtably.

You ducked forward to catch his dropped gaze, tone firm. “And I’m glad he did.”

Zoro shook his head and reclined on the headboard. “I thought I was ready.”

“You will be.” You inched your way up the bed to sit beside him, shoving away the blanket and angling your head to look at his profile. His jaw set as he looked out the window.

His heart now ached as much as yours had, his defeat a weight he wasn’t prepared to carry. Your hand slipped into his with the hope of taking some that burden in stride, praying he knew you would be there to take it every time. “You will be ready, and when you are, you’ll defeat him and you’ll be the greatest swordsman to ever live.”

Zoro started to fiddle with your fingers. “You’ll be there?”

“Stupid question,” you huffed, leaning in to kiss his jaw. “Of course I will.”

Pulling back, you found his eyes, offering a smile. All at once, everything fell into place. You knew close to nothing about the world and your place in it. Would people remember you in a hundred? Will your steps be memorialized? You could only hope and wonder.

Yet, there was one thing you knew beyond certainty, and that was whatever you turned out to be, you wanted Zoro to be there to witness it.

So the words came easily, no hindrance in a single syllable. “Marry me.”

Zoro balked, whole body freezing up as he blinked down at you. “What?”

“You heard me,” you smiled. “I want to marry you.”

His hands squeezed yours. “It’s… not safe.”

“Compared to what? Whether we’re married or not, I’m with you.” Zoro tilted his head.

“So why…?”

You hooked your pinky through his. “It’s a promise. I want to be there when you defeat him. I want to dress your wounds and keep you humble. I want to grow old and throw rocks at neighbor kids with you.”

He laughed softly, staring down at your interlocked hands, and raised his gaze slowly. “You really want that?”

“Don’t you?”

Instantly, “Yes.”

If possible your smile bloomed wider and you whipped around to shout, “Luffy!”

Zoro grabbed your shoulders and jerked you back around, his grin shifting to wince at his sudden movement. “Now?”

“Why not now?” you implored.

“I thought—” he settled back gently, brow drawn “—I thought you’d want, like, a party.”

You ensured he was fine, hand hovering his bandaged middle, eyes rising to catch his own. “I have you, and more friends than I ever imagined having. What more do I need?”

Zoro couldn’t argue with that. His grin returned hesitantly, hand searching out for yours and closing around it tightly. “Guess that makes Great Captain Usopp the best man, with Luffy officiating. And maid of honor Nami.”

Your face fell in an instant, your palm hitting your temple, heart dropping all over again. “We can’t get married now.”

Zoro tried to sit up before coughing and leaning back. “What’s wrong?”

“Nami’s gone.” Your steely eyes only added to his sudden distress. “She’s with Arlong the Saw.”

Talk of marriage and futures could wait until everyone was together. Until then, you wrangled Zoro into laying back down, not allowing him to move and open up his stitches, barking out orders to stay put before you made him.

જ⁀➴

Well, you didn’t get married when Nami returned. It just… slipped your minds. Once, Zoro drunkenly remembered, and you soberly denied his inebriated proposal. So you didn’t get married some months after either. The time was never right, but the heart was always there.

“Wife,” he once snapped offhandedly. “Get off my weights.”

He didn’t understand your teasing, gleaming smile till you skipped away, planting a kiss on his cheek and whispering, “Fine, Husband.”

The crew tilted their heads at the sudden use of the term, not recalling a recent ceremony, but when they saw the lively grins upon your faces they never bothered to ask. You and Zoro had your own kind of marriage they supposed was extra special—the kind only within one’s mind, soul, and heart. The bond was not by rings but by devotion alone, and the pair found a lifetime of contentment in that alone.

The topic of officiality arose when you parted for two years, him off training with a warlord in a castle, and you learning from healing witches in a forest.

“What if you find another wife in the meantime?” you jokingly (half-geuinely) asked him.

“We lasted three years. What’s two more?”

You nodded, drawing him close to your lips. “Don’t get too comfy, Roronoa. I’ll make an honest man out of you yet.”

Two years and each and every correspondence was signed Dear Wife, Dear Husband, Yours in Health, Yours in Death. A ghostly girl Zoro called Perona once wrote back for him, wondering why he’d never mentioned a wife and where his ring was. You gave it a chuckle and paid it no mind, not willing to divulge the intricacies of your marriage.

No one ever questioned it when you reunited. To everyone, you and Zoro were one unit in everything but a legal document. The crew never batted an eye at your little domestic bits, to the point where they nearly forgot what was so funny about calling the other your spouse.

One year turned to two, and two to three, and three to twenty all in the blink of an eye. Wife and husband, you grew into yourselves in body and mind, watching the other with a pride and love neither of you could quite articulate how you wanted.

“My husband is the greatest swordsman in the world,” you told some boy prince you were treating for smallpox.

“My wife is a world-renowned apothecary,” Zoro exclaimed midfight to some no-name brute.

At some point, you’d both forgotten this wasn’t an official thing. You were married… but not really.

It occurred to you whilst you lay swinging in a hammock in front of your little home, head rested on Zoro’s chest, his easy breathing nearly lulling you to sleep. “Zoro?”

“Hmm?”

You propped your chin on his stomach and grinned at him bleary-eyed. “Will you marry me?”

“I—” Zoro paused, blinked a moment, and looked down widely. “I forgot we weren’t.”

“Me too.” Your head cocked to the side. “So?”

His hand moved to trace your jaw before curling into your hair, and dropping back to his side. “We’re well into our forties.”

“And?”

“If we both forgot…” he chuckled. “What does it matter if we never got a huge party?”

You settled back into his side. “That’s what I was thinking… Don’t you want a ring?”

He shook a hand. “Eh.”

“Same here.”

Really, what was the use? He was your husband and you were his wife. That’s how it had been for well over a decade. Though, it would make for a good celebration. “A wedding’s a good excuse to see everyone, though…”

A week later Usopp called Nami on a snail transponder, holding up an invite as she did the same. “Completely forgot they’re not in matrimony.”

“You’re going, right?”

“Obviously.”

The whole of the ceremony, an air of hilarity rested upon each of the crewmates turned wedding guests. In sickness, in health, in life, and in death—you and Zoro had committed these vows wordlessly so very long ago.

The wedding was odd and out of place and it was yours. You never knew how much it would mean till you stood before your silly swordsman, aboard the beloved Thousand Sunny, and slipped a ring on his finger as a burn got caught in your throat. He wasn’t much better, pushing a ring over your knuckles, blinking so fast he might’ve flown away.

Vivi, Robin, and Nami stood lined up on your left, holding bouquets of lilies picked from your yard that morning. On Zoro’s right, Usopp and Brook held back watery smiles while Jimbei and Sanji watched with subtle, fond grins. Franky stood with Chopper on his shoulder, the pair absolutely beaming.

What brought it all together was Luffy’s struggle to get it just right, reciting off a sheet of paper Nami and Vivi had asked him to memorize beforehand. Your captain’s smile could’ve blinded you, his excitement palpable as he worked his way through the list until it was time to officially seal it with a kiss.

You’re not sure what you expected, but when your lips met with Zoro’s and the hollers of your friends echoed all around… there was nothing extra special about the moment. You drew back smiling, nose brushing his, and breathed in the moment. It felt like every other kiss on every other evening, but now you were with the people you held most dear. That’s what made your heart warm enough to rival the sun.

As far as you’re concerned, you and Zoro have been married since the day he left you in Syrup Village. You sighed your vows into every moment spent apart and breathed them into each other every second side by side. No wedding was ever needed. No officiant needed to say the words. Husband and wife in your hearts alone, and that would have enough for the rest of your days.

But now, as you looked around at the friends you called family, Zoro’s presence at your shoulder, you had to admit; you would have a hundred weddings just to bring everyone here, sharing in joy and dancing around one another through the night, for just one more night.

Tomorrow, everyone might part once more. There were lives to be lived and tasks to complete elsewhere on the globe… but tonight, your family was together. As you broke away from a twirling Nami, shooing her off to go dance with her dear Vivi and spare your aching feet, you found yourself back at Zoro’s side. His heavy eyes and lithe smile met you readily.

“Wife,” he greeted.

“Husband,” you answered giddily.

Neither of you cared much for rings, that was true, but you both took the time to admire the placements on your fourth fingers, curling into each other as the party drew on, tenderly falling asleep against the mainmast.

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: @100520s @nadlx33333 @fluffybunnyu @ellisaworld @hawkins-2000 @bdudette @misfits1a @star-yawnznn @gingernut131 @1-800-starkindustrie @fangeekkk @itsagoodluckkiss

#zoro #zoro x reader #opla!zoro x reader #opla #roronoa zoro x reader #one piece #one piece live action #one piece x reader #x reader #reader insert #female reader

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thebestofoneshots · 2 months

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Gilded Constellations | (wolfstar x reader)

Series Masterlist | Previous episode

Pairing: Wolfstar x Reader Word Count: 8.7 K Warnings: The angst is still angsting Prompt: Alone, desperate, lonely. How did you end up like this? How will you recover? Is recovering even possible? This IS a Wolfstar x reader fic, but it's incredibly slow burn. They won't start all dating each other until we're very deep into the story, but I promise the long wait will be worth it Proofread by Lovely @aremuslupinsimp

Chapter 55: Noone Together

I'm mostly scared, I am mostly unprepared, I'm a mess I lost most of myself as the waves came crashing down, I'm a wreck

I've bought up all my dreams and sold off most my heart I've been lying to myself just to bury all my thoughts

-Mostly (Vian Izac)

Monday, January 10th, 1977

You looked around your trunk until you found something that would look as wizarding as possible. You didn’t want people to spare a second glance your way, so you took a cloak and a pointy hat and pocketed your money in your trousers. There weren’t many students in Diagon at this time of the year, and you did not want to look like one.

Thankfully you hadn’t gone out with your parents that often since you moved to England and while most people knew Silas had a daughter, they had no idea how she looked. A point in your favour, you wouldn’t have to hide.

You would have used a warming charm, but bought tea with a warming potion instead. Accidentally burning yourself with Nina’s wand was not the way you wanted to go down. You finished it at the restaurant, the lady who did Tarot readings was sitting with a young woman, probably in her late 20s, and she was reading her cards for her, although she kept looking at you as you drank your tea. Especially when you accidentally picked it up with your injured hand and cursed loud enough for her to catch it. A waiter came around, offering you some food, but you declined, you were far from feeling hungry, if anything, you were still slightly nauseated. You could have done with a drink, though.

When you were done, you were quick to stand up and leave the inn, walking straight towards Ollivander’s. The shop was closed and you instead walked towards The Apothecary. “I think I’ve sprained my wrist,” you told the young man on the other side of the counter. He had a pair of round glasses that reminded you of James, and short, but elegantly styled hair.

He extended his hand and you pushed your hand towards it. He adjusted his glasses and stared, moving your hand a little and then passing his wand over it. He nodded. “It seems so. How did you know it was just a sprain and not something else?”

“I’ve gotten hurt a few times in the past months. It felt like a sprain.”

He looked at you and smiled. He was handsome. Not nearly as handsome as either Sirius or Remus. Not even as handsome as Minho, or Tom, but he had a straight nose and a charming smile, a la Reyansh Atwal, but Caucasian. “It was a great guess,” he said as he eventually let go of your hand and carefully placed it on the counter. He turned around and started to look through his shelves.

“Most people come here with a terrible idea of what they have. I had a person with a cold telling me they thought they had dragonpox. And one time a person who said they’d had a broken leg when they had barely a big bruise.” He pulled one of the small doors of a cabinet open and then pulled something from the inside. “Are you from around?”

“I’ll be staying in London for a couple of days,” you said, as you stared at what he did, almost condescendingly. He seemed to have a bit of trouble while trying to find the right thing, and you had been spoiled with the very capable hands of Madam Pomfrey just weeks past.

He grabbed a thing, and with an air of triumph, turned around. “I think I might have a pixie around here moving all my stuff,” he excused. “It’s harder when you don’t have house elves for help, you know?”

“I suppose,” you replied, not bothering to fake much interest.

“Allow me,” he said as he pulled back his sleeves, bending them carefully and methodically. “I’m going to put this ointment on your hand.” You nodded, although you were quite sure an anti-swelling potion, like the one he had on the left side corner would have done the trick. He placed both hands around your wrist and carefully massaged it. While you stared, you could barely stop thinking of Sirius’ firm grip, or the soft way Remus would always hold your hand.

They are happy now, you reminded yourself, together.

“And there you go,” he said after finally pulling apart. Your hand was still sore, Pomfrey would have probably had it fixed a lot faster.

“Thanks,” you said with a half-smile. “Can I also get a Swellendrake Draught?”

“For your wrist? You won’t be needing that, come back tomorrow and I’ll give you another treatment with the ointment.”

If only you had a fucking wand, you would have done it all yourself.

“For someone else,” you lied. “And also some Warming Brew.”

“Oh,” he adjusted his glasses. “Of course, of course. I was under the impression you were here by yourself.”

You hummed in return, “How much?”

You were out of his The Apothecary the second he handed over the change. Your hand was still bringing you a slight discomfort when you used it to push the door open to The Magical Menagerie. Inside you bought food and snacks to feed Reese. An old man with a strong German accent handed you your food and change with a smile and asked you about the type of owl you had.

You lied, telling him it was a tawny owl, but that she liked fancier treats. Reese was a barn owl, not as common and especially fancy to have as a pet since they were pickier eaters (which meant more money to maintain) and they were incredibly good hunters in low light, which meant they were especially talented at delivering letters. Had you mentioned he was a melanistic barn owl, the man would have probably begged you to meet him (they were even less common and coveted since they could blend into the night almost seamlessly).

“Well, you better take good care of her,” he said as he packed the bag of treats. “Don’t spoil her too much, either.”

“I won’t,” you said with a smile and handed him the money. “I’m sure Selig will love these,” you said as you raised the small bag and then walked towards the door, and then as if it were an afterthought, you turned around and looked at him, “Do you happen to know at what time Ollivander’s opens?”

“Ollivander’s?” he asked and turned to his clock. “He should be opening now, if not you can knock on his window a couple of times, sometimes he falls asleep on his desk.”

“Thank you,” you said as you walked towards the door.

“Kein problem, Schatz.”

Once outside you walked towards Ollivander’s. The door was now open, and a small bell at the top rang as you walked inside. There was no one else, as you expected. And the very peculiar smell of wood and magic prickled your senses as you walked inside. Ollivander, who was looking through some boxes, turned and seemed surprised when he spotted you.

“Daughter of Silas.” You panicked, thinking you’d have to leave and find somewhere else to stay, perhaps muggle London. Perhaps you could ask that nice girl at Daunt Books if she knew somewhere, even if you’d have to hold back on using magic almost entirely so as not to call the attention of the ministry. He must have seen the distress in your eyes, your careful stepping back towards the door, ready to run the fuck away, again. “Worry not, Child. I do not have any political affiliations as of now. If you wish for your identity to remain undisclosed, then so shall I maintain it…” He gave you an airy look, as if to make sure you’d stay and then proceeded. “You know, I never forget a wand, and it’s a very peculiar one that you have in your pocket.”

“It’s not mine,” you said as you pulled Nina’s wand and placed it on his counter. “That’s why I’m here, my wand broke and I need a new one.”

“I beg to differ,” he said simply, as he stared at Nina’s wand, he was twirling it in his wand, and inspecting the details on it.

“Pardon?” you asked, confused.

“You do not need a new one, Child. You said this one isn’t yours, and I beg to differ. Its loyalty belongs entirely to you.”

You turned to look at him with a frown, “Impossible. I’ve tried using it and I almost got attacked by a chair.”

“You know this is a rather peculiar wand,” he said thoughtfully, almost ignoring what you said entirely. “14 and a half inches, English Oak,” and then, in a much lower tone, he added, “Thestral tail hair.”

You frowned, “Thestral tail hair?”

“Indeed, indeed. I too was surprised when the wand picked young and sweet Nina Blythe.” Your breath hitched in your throat when he said her name. He noticed. “That might be why it’s not working for you even though it’s yours.”

“I don’t think I followed.”

“Thestral tail hair wands are fussy, it is said only witches and wizards who were capable of accepting dеath could use these kinds of wands. Miss Blythe was muggle-born,” he said. “But her father diеd in a car accident when she was about 4 years old, she was in the car with him then, she told me when I told her about core and its meaning. The wand seemed to love her almost instantly.”

“Accepting dеath?” you mumbled. You didn’t want to do that, you didn’t want to accept what happened, even if it had. Even if you’d seen it, it was easier to pretend it to be just a terrible dream, to ignore it and fake it and–

“I’m afraid so,” Ollivander said. “I believe you’ve had some dreadful encounters with her lately and–”

“I’d like to get another wand,” you interrupted him, a little rudely.

“Another wand?” he asked, confused.

“Yes, this one won’t work. I’m sure.”

He hummed at that, something that sounded a bit like he disagreed with you entirely. He picked the wand up again and looked at it closely. “No wand here will ever be as good for you as this particular one,” he said. “You know English Oak has an affinity with magic of the natural world? It is said the Great Merlin had a wand made of Oak.”

You took a deep breath, and you tried not to grit your teeth, “My wand used to be oak.”

“And? I believe I did not sell it to you…”

“No,” you admitted. “We got it while travelling… It was thunderbird tail feather.”

“Oh, she must have been absolutely delightful to work with,” he said, with a bit of sarcasm. “Did it take you long to get used to her stubbornness?”

“She was never stubborn with me,” you said simply.

“You must have had an excellent matching with it then,” he said with a bit of a mischievous smile. “I can assure you it will be as good– if not better with this one. Had you come here before Miss Blythe, you might have taken it yourself. I’d dare say it’s like she was made for you.”

You looked at the wand with slight reluctance and then picked it up. You pointed at a small pencil on the table and whispered, “Wingardium Leviosa.” Rather than carefully floating as you intended for it to do, the pencil flew backwards and stabbed one of the shelves with a sharp thud. You quickly left the wand on the table again. “See?! it’s pointless.”

Ollivander used his wand and whispered “Reparo,” allowing the shelf to restore itself and the pencil to return to its spot. “I’m afraid you have to accept what’s happened for her to work properly. But I cannot sell you another wand.”

“Then how?” You said, slightly exasperated.

“Sit down, and cast small spells with her. Like this one–”

“I could have stabbed someone!”

“Nature Magic has strong connections with emotions. Perhaps the magic is so aggressive because you feel like you need such protection.”

You sighed, you’d come for a wand, not for therapy.

“Fine then,” you said as you grabbed the wand, you were cross, Ollivander could tell. “I’ll see if I can get her to work.”

“I’m certain you will.”

You scoffed and shook your head as you walked out of the store. There was no way in hell you managed to do a Protean charm without a properly functioning wand, so you’d have to buy the enchanted items.

There weren’t many places in which you’d be able to get such powerful and unorthodox magical things, but you had been paying attention and you had heard the whispers. You thought of it as your last resource since it was popular for being a reunion point for dark wizards, but you were running out of options. You’d have to pay a visit to Knockturn Alley.

As you stepped out of Ollivanders, you blinked a few times and started to walk around. It was almost midday, and the streets were buzzing with witches and wizards, far more than there were earlier in the morning. You walked, accidentally bumping your shoulder with other people when you were pushed around.

You knew Knockturn Alley was hidden, but it took you at least an hour to find it. It was still day, but the alley was dark, poorly lit and rather lonely. You saw a few Wizards walking inside a store that looked somewhat like a bar, one of them felt familiar enough, like he might have been at the Christmas Party. You turned your face and stared at the window of one of the shops.

You had not seen the Borgin and Burkes logo at the top, since you had turned as fast as possible but you did see the small price ticket on one of the items in display. It read: Borgin and Burkes: Oddments and Artefacts. And then underneath it: Rarities of the best kind, antiques, charmed items, cursed jewellery and more.

The perfect place, you pretended to look through the window a bit more and when you made sure he was gone, you turned towards the door and walked inside. “Are you lost?” A young man asked from behind the counter, he had brown hair and a disagreeable face.

“I’m exactly where I want to be,” you retorted. “I’m looking for an item,” you said, “Or rather two. They need to have a protean charm in between them.”

The man nodded “Jewellery, a journal, matching skulls, a book or bottles?”

“Journal,” you said. He pulled out a black journal, it had golden metal trims and a name engraved at the back.

“This one belongs to someone,” you complained as you handed it back to him.

“But it has nothing written on it,” he retorted and pushed it back at you. You looked at the journal impassively and took it in your hands. You could feel the dark magic screaming inside of it, like it was imploring to be released, you placed it back on the table. “I don’t want it. Anything else?”

The man grumbled something that you didn’t understand, took the journal, and placed it back onto his counter. Pulling out a pair of cufflinks, to which you shook your head. He rolled his eyes and walked towards the back of the store. You took the time to look through the things they had around. You knew better than to get too close to some of them, specifically the item named “Hand of Glory” which also had some kind of magic attached to it.

You looked at it with an air of disgust before you continued walking, they had candles, some Peruvian Instant Darkness Powder, which you thought would be useful so you bought two bags, and there was a massive display with jewellery too. You leaned in closer, and without touching anything, started to read the label: A ring of oblivion (whoever wore it would forget everything that happened while wearing it), a pair of bad luck cufflinks, awfully similar to the ones the man had offered earlier, a magic absorbing necklace, a hairpin that would let you change your appearance, a pair of blinding glasses (they would disappear whatever you wanted from your field of vision)– hold up. A hairpin that could change your appearance?

You looked at it again and picked it up, moving towards one of the huge mirrors and placing it on your hair. Suddenly you weren’t you anymore, you were still a woman, your age, but you looked nothing like yourself and everything like someone you wouldn’t spare much attention to. Not ugly but not pretty either, in fact, when you removed the pin and saw yourself again, you had almost forgotten what the other face looked like.

“Fascinating item, isn’t it?” the man asked with a smile. “And much easier than making polyjuice.”

You nodded and then turned to him. “Did you find anything?”

“This,” he said as he pulled out a pair of earrings. You looked at him with a raised eyebrow. “These were designed for listening in to conversations. You ‘accidentally’ drop one of them and you can hear what they’re saying on the other side. I assume that will satisfy your requirements of communication.”

“It might,” You responded, “Does it work backwards? Do both of them do it?”

“Indeed.”

You nodded, “I’ll take them, and the Peruvian Powder and the hairpin.”

He smiled and wrote on a small piece of paper your total amount. You paid, and walked towards the door. When you spotted the same man from earlier loitering outside of the bar, you eyed the man in the store nervously and then turned to one of his trinkets. “What is this?” you asked as you looked at a large, triangular-shaped closet.

The man smiled and walked behind you, “Vanishing Cabinet, they’re becoming really popular lately, lots of people want them in their house in case of a Dеath Eater attack.”

You swallowed, he was careful when he said those last few words, as if he was trying to feel out which side of the war you played on. Thankfully, if there was anything you had learned from Silas, was that to be a good politician; you’d had to lie, and you had to lie so much lately, that it came almost naturally from you. “I bet,” you said with a mischievous smile. “Does this one work?” You asked as you looked at the small chip on the side and allowed the little bit of wood to rise and then return to its place.

The man smiled, “As a matter of fact, it does not, a Witch brought a week ago for us to fix it, but it seems someone put a course on it, dark magic, in fact.”

“Well,” you looked over your shoulder, the man was gone. “Good luck with that, eh… Mr. Borgin?”

“Burke,” he corrected with an askew smile. Clearly, after he made the sale, he was not in such a terrible mood. And it had been a big sale. You still had enough cash to get by, but you’d need more for the rest of the year. You took a deep breath, you’d have to go to Gringotts. You had your own vault, which was great. Unfortunately, the minute you went, your father would probably know you’d visited, so it had to be the very last thing you did.

“Then thank you for your help, Mr. Burke.”

“Mr. Burke was my father, call me Kieran.”

You frowned but smiled, pulling out a bit of that charm you had used too often with adults, it wouldn’t hurt to have an ally or two in case things went awry.

“Thank you, Kieran,” you said and then nodded at him politely, a small smile playing on your lips as you left the place. You were quick, but calm as you exited the shop, and the minute you were out of Kieran’s sight, you put on your new hairpin and mixed yourself in between the people.

You walked back to the Inn, took the pin off before stepping inside the Leaky Cauldron and walked straight to your room. You hadn’t eaten, and frankly, you still didn’t want to eat. You walked back to the room, and Reese was by the window with a small pack of chocolates and a small note attached to them. He flew towards your place on the bed with it and took his own place on the bed.

“Hey, little one,” you said with a smile as you brushed your hand over his head the way you knew he liked it, and pulled open one of the bags you had to give him a couple of treats. He chirped joyfully when you did, and then leaned down and pecked the letter with his beak, reminding you to open it.

You sighed but did it, taking the note and unfolding it.

Are they feeding you well where you are? They better be. But I know how much you love these sweets, so I stole them from Remus to send them over. I’ll check the chimney at night, I’m sure you’ll have figured out a more than clever way to keep in touch.

Remus and Sirius are still whispering about each other, It’s like they’re scheming something, and frankly, I’ve been feeling slightly excluded. Will you tell me what happened when we find a better way to communicate? But more important than anything, HOW ARE YOU?

Prongs xx

You smiled and wrote a quick note telling him to clip the earring on at about 8 pm, you sent it along with a thank you for the chocolates and then (as a joke, but not actually) asked him if he had some booze. You let Reese go back to the Potters, after giving him some more treats and walked toward the fireplace to turn it on since the temperature was going out as fast as the sunlight.

Thankfully, it was a lot easier this time around, and you curled up, staring blankly at the flames for some time. You had never been this quiet, this inactive. At Hogwarts, you were always distracted by one thing or the other. At the boys’ houses, they were the ones constantly creating new games and things, or talking or telling you something, or even reminding you of homework and things you had to finish, things you had to accomplish.

But there, alone in the warm, but still isolated floor, you didn’t have anything to do, and you didn’t want to do anything either. You tried to pick up a book from your suitcase but abandoned it a little after. You took the journal Lily had given you and wrote barely half a page when tears started to prickle your eyes and you abandoned it as well. You couldn’t listen to music, and you didn’t even feel like trying to get Nina’s wand to work, not with what it entailed.

Yeah, avoiding your feelings allowed you to be able to sit straight and do all the things you’d done without breaking apart, but it was also stopping you from properly processing shit, and so, rather than thinking and crying or whatever, you sat, and blankly leered at the dancing golds and yellows and reds, throwing some wood to liven up the flames as you stared, sad and disoriented, until it was eight o’clock.

You picked up the earring and put it on your ear. On your free ear, you had the crackling of fire, on the other one, you heard the wind blow, heavy and thick, the hauntingly beautiful sound you often heard when you were flying, you missed that too.

There was a doubtful tasking on the other side, before, clear as day you heard, “Vixen?”

“Prongs,” you said, you couldn’t help the smile that formed on your lips. You had been so alone all afternoon, that hearing James had filled you with joy. James, on the other hand, sounded a little cross.

“What the fuck happened?” He asked. You heard the wind become stronger, he was probably flying further away from his house. “We were all at the party and then you go upstairs and then Sirius and Remus are banging on doors and then you’re gone. I was worried sick. They didn’t want to tell me what the fuck happened and–”

“Don’t worry about it,” you said simply. “Sirius and I–” There was a pang in your heart when you said that as if you shouldn’t say those names together. “It was nothing,” you sighed, “but we aren’t a thing anymore.”

“I figured out as much,” James said, still angry. “Why? I thought you loved each other. I mean didn’t the two of you fuck at the fae pool just a couple of days ago? Was it because of that? Because if you thought he was bad I’m sure he can learn and–” James was rambling.

“It was not about that!” you said before he kept going. “And we didn’t end it because he broke my heart, it was I who broke both of ours.” You sighed. “But it is for the best–”

“Like shit, it is for the best!” James retorted. “What happened?”

If James didn’t know, you couldn’t out them. “It’s not my secret to tell.”

“Vixen,” he said impatiently.

“James, if this is all you’re going to talk about–”

“No wait!” He rushed out. “How are you?”

“I’m fine,” you said, you were sitting on the wooden floor, looking at the fire, you hadn’t eaten, and you hadn’t even showered (you didn’t want to stop smelling the Sirius and Remus in your clothes).

You heard a hesitant sigh on the other side. “Can’t I come visit?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“My mom’s friend is a bit paranoid about what happened at Christmas,” you lied. How easy did the lies come to you now, one after the other, like a parade, they rolled off your tongue and sounded loud by the end of your lips, as simple as if it were truth. Suppose telling someone you didn’t love them when you both knew you did was all it took to become such a brilliant liar.

“Do you want to talk about that?”

You hadn’t wanted to talk about it, not even when you actually had talked about it with Remus. Rather than responding, you changed the subject, “What did you boys do today?”

Thankfully, James knew how to take a hint –sometimes– and he thought allowing you to process things was best either way, at your own pace. “Well, we had breakfast together and did some flying afterwards. Sirius was going really fast, I think it might have been the fastest he’s ever flown. Remus kept shouting at him to stop being an idiot and slow down.”

“We then went back inside and Remus recommended that I read a book, but I think he just wanted me to get out of the way so he could talk to Sirius again. I wrote a letter to Lily, thanking her for coming to the party yesterday and telling her you were all right. She’s also worried and wants to contact you.”

“Tell her I’m good,” you said. “That I cannot get letters at the moment.”

“Already have,” he sighed. “Anyway, Remus and Sirius are awfully suspicious. Sitting close and whispering about. Can you really not tell me what happened?”

“I’m sorry,” you said. And you really were, you wanted someone to talk to about this, but as far as you knew, you were the only person who knew about Sirius’ bisexuality and among the few that knew about Remus’. “That’s got to do with something that happened between them, I cannot talk about it.”

“But you do know what it is!” James delated. There was still wind, and it carried his voice out a little but you could still hear the intonations you were so familiar with, you knew what he meant.

“But if you ever do find out, then they must be the ones to tell you, James.”

He sighed in response, leaning in on his broom and banging his head against the handle. It seemed like every single person around him was sad, and he couldn’t do a damn thing about it. He hated it. He wanted things to go back to normal, for you to be here, and for both you and Sirius to be all over each other.

Even if he kept complaining about it, he secretly loved seeing you all happy. Even when you cuddled Moony together, invading their room, he felt it wasn’t that often that he saw Moony smile, but he was always smiling when you and Sirius were around, even when you were being annoying by asking him to read you something or convincing him to help with homework or something similar.

“Fine, whatever,” he responded, trying not to sound too cross, he knew you mustn’t have been that well off, he could also hear your voice over the crackling of the fire, and even if you kept claiming to be alright, there was something near the end of your words, not a crack but something almost imperceptible that told him otherwise.

He’d seen you get hit by quaffles and he’d seen you get hit by bludgers, and he’d seen you getting scratched by a werewolf. He’d seen you tired and desperately scribbling on parchment after forgetting homework. Your “All rights” had never sounded as hollow to him before. So devoid of meaning, so filled with air he was sure he could poke a hole and disinflate them entirely.

Of course, James didn’t want that. The last thing he wanted was to push you into desperation by asking and asking questions like he used to do all the time. “Did you like the chocolate?”

“Yeah,” you responded. “Did you get me the Booze? Will you send it over with Reese?”

“I don’t think that’s the best idea–”

“Oh, shut up, you’re not my mum,” you said automatically, flipping back to your old self before realising what you had said. No, James was not your mum, you didn’t have one anymore.

James hesitated, he heard the silence, the popping and hissing of the fire next to you and knew you were both thinking the same thing, he bit his lip. “I’ll get you your booze.”

You took off the earring and promised to talk to him again tomorrow in the morning, at about 9, before the boys woke up, so they wouldn’t suspect if James went flying earlier. He could always say he had wanted to entertain himself while they slept.

After your conversation, he flew down and looked through his stuff in the kitchen until he found an old flask and filled it up with his father’s Firewhisky. He knew you liked it and he knew he liked it. He then put it in a small bag and handed it to Reese.

When he walked into the room, he saw Sirius writing something on a piece of paper and Remus correcting his words. They both were on edge and looked like they were about to go at each other’s throats.

“What are you doing?” James asked, confused.

Sirius looked at him, worry in his gaze, and he placed a blank parchment on top of the other one. “I’m writing something for her,” he said simply.

“And I can’t see it?”

“No,” Sirius said plainly.

“But Remus can? I see how things are.”

“James,” Sirius reproached, “I promise you would hate to be involved in this in the way Remus is.”

“Well at least he’s not kept in the dark about it,” James retorted viciously. Sirius had always gone to him with his problems, he didn’t understand what this thing with Remus was, and he didn’t quite like it either. Whatever had happened, you had left his house because of the two of them, and you were far from the “All right!” you kept claiming to be.

“That’s not fair,” Sirius replied.

Remus stood up hastily. “This is none of my business.”

“This is ALL of your business!” James said sternly. “I can’t be the only one that’s fucking worried about her!” Sirius scoffed and Remus remained silent as he threw a look at James. If only he knew. “I thought you were her best friend.” He threw an accusatory finger at Remus. “You’re always around, teaming up on every fucking project. You were there after the fucking Christmas Party. Why haven’t you even tried to contact her?”

“We’ve tried!” Remus responded, voice louder. “Sirius has even tried to do whatever the hell he did with the necklace and all we get is a stupid fire and my fucking jumper. Why haven’t you tried to contact her?”

“I have,” James said.

“And? No answer, right?” Prongs did not say further. “Merlin knows where she might have gone off to. We might not see her again ‘til school and it’s all my fucking fault.”

“What?” James asked, confused, he thought it was Sirius and you thing not a Sirius and Remus and you thing. Sirius threw a reproaching arm slap at Remus and James sighed. “You know what? I don’t care. If you all don’t want to tell me what the fuck happened then it’s going to be on you to fix it.”

Sirius groaned and leaned his head over his knees. Remus gave him a pitiful look and James walked out of the room. When he was gone, Remus placed a reassuring hand over Sirius’ back. Sirius hated how damn good it felt.

“It’s okay,” he said softly. “You’ll get her back, we’ll find a way.”

“She’s convinced we like each other, she wouldn’t have left if she wasn’t.”

“Then we prove her wrong, Pads.”

“It’s not going to work,” he said and turned his head to look at Remus. His cheek was half squashed on his knee and some of his hair was covering his soft features, but Remus could easily see the glistening wet eyes.

He placed his hand on Sirius’ face and carefully pushed some of the hair back, he was being as gentle and reassuring as he had been with you the past couple of weeks, and he found himself thinking something eerily similar to what he did when he held your crying frame.

He hated himself for thinking of how beautiful Sirius looked, for how much he wanted to kiss him and comfort him. He hated that you were right, that he really did like Sirius and it was worse to know that Sirius liked him back and that neither of them would ever do anything about it because neither of them wanted to hurt you. He forced his hand back and onto his knee, tapping on it with his index nervously. Sirius sighed a pained expression on his face, mirroring almost perfectly the one on Remus’.

You had all reached a dеad end. You refused to go back to Sirius because your best friend was in love with him, and you thought Remus deserved the world. Sirius refused to chase his feelings for Remus because he loved you, and he wouldn’t dare to see you sad. He wanted you back. And lastly, Remus refused to lean closer and place a kiss on Sirius’ lips like he was so tempted to do, because he knew you loved him, and there was no way in hell he’d ever hurt you, you had gone through enough, seeing your boyfriend with your best friend might as well be the last straw.

But what about Sirius? Yeah, you were thinking of him, since you thought he liked Remus and he would be happier with him. And of course, Remus was thinking of Sirius, he did all the time, but what both you and Remus failed to realise was how much strain you were putting on him. He was in love with his two best friends, and there was no way he could be with one without hurting the other.

You had made the choice for him, you had taken his agency and stepped out of the way. But Sirius did not want that, neither did Remus. Heck, not even you –with your staggering determination to make them both happy– actually wanted to leave him.

The problem was that none of you would talk about your feelings to each other, because no one wanted to be vulnerable. No one was ready to risk your friendship and hearts in the process. And as a result, you were all miserable.

And Remus, poor Remus wouldn’t even say that he liked you as much as he liked Sirius because if things had gone awry with you just believing he liked Sirius, he assumed that coming clean would only complicate shit further and make everyone even more miserable.

The three of you were sinking, grappling at each other to try and save them but only succeeding in dragging them towards the bottom. A hard, determined grip that was causing all of you to drown in an ocean of emotions. But the three of you were bigger than the sea you were sinking in, all you had to do was open your hearts and sing their longings. Only then would you realise the three of you had the ability to breathe underwater and to love more than one at the same time.

Tuesday, January 11th, 1977

You woke up on the floor, you were sore and had a terrible headache. You removed the sweater from your face and winced as the light passed through the window. You had spent the previous night trying to get Nina’s wand to work, but other than getting it to do a very dim, almost useless Lumos, you had gotten nowhere.

You sat up on the floor a little too fast and your head spun. You had drank the flask James had sent you and upon wanting to swallow your sorrows, used the hairpin to buy a bottle of whatever they had available at the Leaky Cauldron. It was terrible, probably adulterated or mixed up with some drunk-inducing potion. It had tasted like shit, and yet you had drank half of the bottle while you kept trying for the wand to work.

After a particularly disastrous try that had you walk back to the room with a small jar of water, you threw the entire bottle into the fire in fury and had to drink the weird-tasting water from the Inn. You didn’t even have anything to take to subdue your hangover (evidently exacerbated due to the fact that you had refused to eat at all that Saturday). And you still weren’t hungry.

When you managed to walk towards the bathroom you realised you had stained the band shirt from Sirius you’d been wearing and almost broke down to cry again. You didn’t want to wash it, but you’d have to wash it, there was no way you used a cleaning spell since your fucking wand was broken and Nina’s still refused to fucking collaborate. You washed your face and your teeth –your breath was disgusting up until then. Then you sat on the toilet seat and stared at the wall while you tried to recollect your thoughts.

You’d have to go back to Hogwarts tonight, the train was almost always the best way to travel there, but you didn’t want to see the boys, and you had heard the Knight Bus drove to Hogsmeade, and from there you could walk all the way to the castle.

But it’s cold, a little voice in your head said. Either way, unless you got the wand to work for you, there was no way in hell you could use a disillusionment charm to walk towards the Honeydukes passage, and you weren’t sure you’d be able to take the one at the Shrieking Shack since they had used new spells to close it.

You sighed and stood up, putting the bits and trinkets you had taken out of your trunk back into it and closing it. You wrote a small apology letter for the chair and left a couple of galleons for the cleaning lady that would have to fix it with reparo. You checked under the bed to make sure you had everything with you and handed your suitcase (whose levitation spell had not worn off as of yet) to Reese.

Once you knew you were ready you took your bag –the one with the undetectable extension charm– and slung it around your shoulder. You knew it wasn’t going to be easy to walk inside Gringotts without calling too much attention, so you dug deeper into the bag and pulled out James’ Felix Felicis. It was as you were looking at it that you remembered that you had promised to talk to him in the morning.

You cursed under your breath and dug through your pockets to try and find the earring and put it on hastily.

“James?” you asked in a low tone, almost hesitantly.

“Vixen?!” you heard from the other side.

“What?” you heard Sirius's voice. “Where?” he added, and then there was more shuffling.

“No,” James said. “I meant– I meant to look at this,” he added, taking something from the table. “She used to love it.”

Remus gave him a distasteful look, and Sirius looked at him with a saddened sort of expression. You, on the other side of the spell, didn’t say a word.

“Maybe next time don’t say her name like that?” Remus suggested. You would be lying if you said that hadn’t felt like a cold bucket of water thrown straight in your face. I mean, it makes sense he wouldn’t want to hear about his new boyfriend’s ex but– you… you were friends.

James, who had absolutely no context of the situation just scoffed, you heard a chair groan as he stood up. “The both of you are absolutely impossible,” he added. “Write her a fucking letter.”

“I have, I don’t have a fucking address to send it!” Sirius retorted. James just walked out. You heard a door, and then running water. Probably a faucet.

Then he muttered a silencing incantation and sighed. “What the fuck, Vixen?!? You said 9! It’s almost twelve.”

“I’m sorry–”

“I was worried!”

“I’m fine,” you lied, James knew it. He couldn’t see you, but your voice had that slight drag it had when you were upset.

James let out an exasperated sigh, “You didn’t drink the entire flask, did you?”

“No,” you lied again, turning the flask upside down and looking at the small drop of fire whiskey that fell from it. It wasn’t entirely a lie.

There was silence, “We’re taking the train today, will I see you there?”

“Probably not,” you responded. “I think they might take me to Hogsmeade.”

“Want me to pick you up at Honeydukes?”

“Please!” There was silence. “But James… Just you, is that okay?”

He sighed. “You won’t fix things if you don’t talk to each other.”

James Potter, the voice of reason, ladies and gentlemen (and anyone in between).

“We just need a little bit more time,” you said tentatively. “You’ll come alone then?”

“Fine,” he said, completely unconvinced.

“Thank you, James.”

“Don’t do anything stupid while you wait,” he warned.

You scoffed, “Look who’s talking.”

“See you around,” he said at last. You took the earring off and placed it in your pocket.

You walked downstairs, handed the key to the man on the counter, and walked outside. You blended in the mix of people and walked straight towards Gringotts. You didn’t know if your father had placed alarms or anything similar, if he would know you’d been there or if he had forgotten that he’d given you the vault altogether, but you knew you had to be fast either way. In and out, if nobody noticed, then it would be for the best. If only you could use your wand, things would be easier.

The long white building stood ahead of you. Threatening like an ancient mausoleum filled with secrets and pitfalls. You had never entered, but you had heard of it plenty. You remembered your mother telling you all about the Goblins and their rebellions and how they were in charge of the most important Magic Bank in England. You took a deep breath and walked inside. The luxurious golden columns were the first thing that you spotted. Tall and mighty, rows and rows of them walking through the long and wide corridor.

You walked inside as if you knew the place, you had to enter the vault since asking for money directly might not have been as easy, you were sure you had accounts to your name, but a large withdrawal would be a lot more evident if you did it through the goblins than if you walked inside your vault, and placed most of the money there.

You walked all the way to the end of the long hall and smiled politely at a hostile-looking goblin. You could see on his name tag the name Thracknok. He finished stamping a paper and looked up at you with a grin that looked more sinister than welcoming. “How may I help?” he asked in a garrulous and nasal tone, every word clipped.

“I would like to access my vault,” you said as you took out your key and showed it to him. “It’s the 718.”

“Top security?” The goblin replied.

You nodded, breath as steady as possible. “I have been sent by my father,” you lied. And then you focused on your voice, you remembered what you’d done to Remus, the intonation, the way in which you had charmed him, and channelled it again. “You must take me there.”

Thracknok nodded, his gaze slightly lost, “I must,” he agreed.

By the time he turned around and took the key you’d given him from the counter, you let out a nervous breath and followed him. He took you all the way into a small, mine-like cart, and motioned for you to sit. In a matter of seconds, you were coursing at top speeds through tunnels and wide-opened spaces. You saw a dragon and went through a waterfall. Thracknok seemed disoriented for barely a second after that, but he continued with his task.

Fae magic and wizard magic, although similar, were not exactly the same, and the Thief’s Downfall had not affected your charm almost at all. Now you had no idea why that waterfall was there, but you had focused on one thing throughout the trip and it was those same words that you’d told Thracknok from behind the counter ‘You must take me there.’

You weren’t entirely sure what you were doing, but something deep inside you told you that you had to be precise with this. Eventually, the cart stopped, right in front of a pair of twin vaults 718 and 719. Both had your last name written at the top.

The goblin approached one of the vaults and placed the key, the vault opened, intricate metal pieces slowly moving to the side, and allowing you in.

“I’ll be outside,” the goblin said and turned around for you to walk in. You walked inside your vault, it was filled with both things you had and hadn’t seen. There were piles of galleons in the corners and several other magical items scattered all around. There were goblets, and jewellery, a bunch of enchanted items. You could feel their magic, even if you weren’t sure what most of them did. You swallowed and picked a handful of galleons and threw them in your bag, then another one and then another one. You hadn’t even made a dent in the pile, but you had enough to get by for the rest of the school year and then some.

You turned to the massive grandfather clock in the corner of the room, it had taken you exactly three minutes and 15 seconds to fill your bag. It hadn’t been that long, you wanted your whole incursion at Gringotts to last no more than 30 minutes, and so far, you were doing an excellent job. You took a deep breath and started looking around. You avoided touching any of the jewellery in case it had tracking spells, but you looked over the rest of the things. Some things had belonged to your Mum, fae relics, and then there were other things that belonged to your dad’s side of the family, ancient jewellery, a game of chess made out of gold, a star trapped in a ring whose shine was almost blinding and even a couple of old books on fae magic your father had bought and studied when he married your mother.

And that’s when you thought about his letter again, the one where he’d told you that he needed space on the family vault for something else. You had thought it was odd then, you even suspected he might be hiding something important. But now that you saw all those fae items and books, you knew that whatever he must have hidden in there was powerful, so powerful it might have been used as a weapon.

What was that old saying? Curiosity kiIIed the cat? Perhaps you should have resisted the urge to find a way inside the other vault, perhaps you should have just walked out of the bank, gone straight towards a small street and called for the Knight Bus. But it was the oddness of all those precious items being taken out and thrown somewhere else, of those items being replaced by something else. There had to be a reason, and you had to see what it was.

You looked around inside the vault, you had read a book about twin vaults, some of them were connected upon the request of their owners. Now, you didn’t see a straight connection between them, but you were certain your father would be the type of person to request such a thing, in the strange scenario he had to get out of the vault a different way than the one he got in.

You took a deep breath and paid attention to everything. The secret passages in your old house had always been odd. The classic book was not secretive enough for Silas. He liked to use weirder things, books that hid information, candies that unlocked secret doors (but only if you put the right amount of them on the scale), elaborate puzzle games that would only open the passage if you followed the exact amount of steps to solve them.

When you were smaller, before the trip to the Occultum and before his political ambitions took over his personality, the two of you used to do puzzles together, elaborate and complicated sorts of puzzles that were far above your age range. But Silas didn’t care, he would convince you to keep trying and trying until you found the way to solve them. Whenever you did solve a puzzle, Silas would smile and praise his talented daughter, tell her how brilliant she was, and then he would give you a wish in return. A wish, you thought.

Right in the middle of the bookshelf, there was a simple book, with the word ‘Wish’ written on its spine. You looked at it for a couple of seconds before you decided to approach it, it was in slow and tentative steps that you reached the shelf and took it in your hands. You swallowed and opened the book.

There was only one written page in the entire book, and it was a riddle.

In shadows deep and whispers soft, A secret lies, though hidden oft. Through twists and turns of mind and fate, Seek the truth, but never late. In echoes old and dreams untold, The key awaits, in tales of old. Through trials dire and trials fair, Only the wise shall find it there. In silence vast and darkness deep, The answer lies, in dreams asleep. But wake ye now, and heed the call, For time is short, and darkness falls. Three paths diverge, yet all converge, To where the truth and secrets surge. Choose wisely, seeker, lest you fail, And in the end, your efforts pale."

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A/N: I questioned myself for making them suffer so much while revising this chapter. Some of Sirius' words are just heart wrenching to me, I swear <3

Read more Marauders Fiction

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archangeldyke-all · 3 months

Note

could I please ask for masc/butch reader and sev 🙏🙏

day three of my period and i'm crying thinking about u and sev's carabiners getting clipped together when u smooch :,)

men and minors dni

if you have any part of your head shaved, sevika will be constantly running her hair over the soft buzzed hairs. she loves the texture so much, she loves how you lean into her touch and your eyes get droopy each time she scratches there. (you might even be able to convince her to get an undercut.)

you guys have to strategically plan out how many pockets you wear as a couple since neither of you carry bags, but both of you have so much shit to lug around. so if you're wearing a pair of pants with just 2 pockets, sevika's gotta compensate and wear her cargo pants so she can carry all your stuff.

the best thing about being a butch and dating another butch is you guys get to share all your butch accessories.

colognes, socks, belts, hats, rings-- they're all communal in your house.

cutting each other's nails and painting 'em clear or black when you've got a minute to pamper yourselves.

teaching each other little tips and tricks-- sevika's really handy and she's always showing you how she fixes things around the house, you're always guiding her through recipes and baking her treats.

the little winks you get to shoot at young butch girls you see when you guys are out together-- their subsequent flustered smiles making both of you chuckle.

alternating who gets to be the chivalrous one on date nights. you have to flip a coin to figure out who gets to run ahead and open the doors, pay for the bill, etc. because otherwise you guys just end up tussling and laughing with one another outside the restaurant you made reservations in as you try to shove each other through the entrance first. "after you, babe."

"no, after you!"

taglist!

@fyeahnix @lavendersgirl @half-of-a-gay @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner

@shimtarofstupidity @chuucanchuucan @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther

@ellsss @sevikaspillowprincess @emiliabby @sevikasbeloved @hellorai

@glass-apothecary @macaroni676 @artinvain @realgreeniebeanie @k3n-dyll

@sevsdollette

#sevika #sevika imagine #sevika arcane #sevika x reader #sevika x you #soft sevika

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actuallysaiyan · 7 months

Note

Hi Bacon!💚 I just saw your valentine event and I think the prompts are sooo sweet! 💕I would like to request Giyuu from Demon Slayer trying to plan the perfect Valentine's Day for reader but everything falls through! NSFW please🫶🏽

warnings: smut, unprotected sex, use of aphrodisiac, slight nipple play word count: 1.1k pairings: Giyu Tomioka x Fem!Reader summary: Giyu tries desperately to plan this beautiful day for you, but he swears he's got the worst streak of bad luck. Still, one thing ends up in his favor.

Giyuu knows how important Valentine’s day is for you. He thinks it’s a fun holiday as well. Before he met you, he might have dismissed it and called it stupid. But he sees the way you look at the decorations and the candy and chocolates that are now in the stores. He knows that you are so enamored with everything that has to do with this beautiful holiday that celebrates lovers.

So this is why he knows he’s going to have to pull it together and get ready for the big day. He practically begs not to go on any missions when the time comes. Some people call him callous and mean, others call him whipped and others(mainly Mitsuri) call him so sweet and romantic for planning such a big day for his lover.

Yet when the big day comes, things start unraveling at the seams. Things are breaking down before they can even be built up. The florist that he was planning to get the flowers from somehow really messed up on his order. Instead of a beautiful bouquet of roses and carnations, they end up being just a bunch of mismatched end cuts from someone else’s order. The florist tries to apologize, stating that something happened to his shipmen, but Giyu is so angry and decides to move onto the next phase of his mission.

He checks in with the restaurant that he has reservations with. His heart wrenches when they tell him there must have been some sort of mixup because they do not have his name on file. He’s not sure what else could go wrong from here, and yet he is trying to remain calm. As a show of good faith, the restaurant gives him two take-out meals on the house. Giyu figures he’s going to be able to fix this valentine’s day yet.

But it’s when he reaches your favorite candy store to see that they are completely out of stock, this is when he realizes the whole day is ruined. He’s going to need to improvise if he wants this to work out well in his favor. So he decides to head to an apothecary for something a little more…naughty. He purchases what seems to be the last bottle of an aphrodisiac.

On his way home, he’s a little more than upset at how his plans ended up. He’s ready to tear the hair out of his head. But he knows he’s got a little bit of a plan left. He finds a store near your home and manages to get some candy. With the last of his supplies, he tricks his way towards where you live. It’s not the romantic valentine’s day he was planning, but it’ll have to do.

When you see him, you’re quick to invite him inside. You and Giyu don’t always get time together, so for you just having him home with you tonight means the world to him. He frowns as he thrusts the gifts in your direction, his face stating a different story than what you’re feeling.

“My, my! You really shouldn’t have,” you tell him, sitting down on the couch.

As you open up the gifts and see the chocolate and the dinner that’s for two, you are so delighted. Then you notice the bottle from the apothecary and you inquire about it.

Giyu blushes, “Uhm…”

You smile, “Yes? What is it?”

“It’s an aphrodisiac.”

Your cheeks heat up as well. You read the ingredients, noting that it seems to be fairly innocent and probably won’t pose any health risks. So you open it up and you can smell how sweet the scent is. Before Giyu can even react, you drink a little bit of it. He gasps and tries to take the bottle from you. He hadn’t even really been that serious about it.

“W-what did you do that for?!” He asks, and you giggle.

“It’s for us. For tonight, right?”

You were right. Still didn’t mean he wouldn’t be completely overwhelmed by this product. Instead of worrying about it, he decides to take a step in your direction. He takes a sip of it too, noticing how he shudders and all the hair on his body stands on end.

It takes mere moments for it to hit you both. In a frenzy of kisses and tugging on clothes, you two find yourselves entangled on the couch together. Giyu moans as he presses searing kisses to your skin. His lips attach to your neck first, leaving marks all over the tender flesh there. You wrap your legs around him, tugging on his hair a little. The sounds that fill the room are your moans and pants as Giyu worships your naked body.

“You’re so beautiful,” his mind is so clouded by lust.

You whine the moment he cups your breasts. You watch through hooded eyes as his thumbs rub your nipples, making you whine even louder. Then he leans in to suck on one of them. Spit coats your nubs as he switches from one nipple to the other. You can barely contain the sounds you’re making as the aphrodisiac courses through your veins.

Giyu’s about to spread your thighs and get on his stomach when you beg him to fuck you. There’s a pink tinge on his cheeks, but he’s heard you. He’s not about to deny you what you want. His hands fold your legs up to your chest, and he watches as your pretty little hole dribbles just for him. You’re already so wet and he’s only kissed you and sucked on your nipples.

With one hand, he guides his throbbing cock to your folds. He teases you both, dragging the head up and down against your labia. You beg him more than once to put it in, and just the sound of your voice is beginning to make his head spin.

“This what you need?” He asks, a teasing tone to his voice as he presses the tip inside of you.

The moment he begins to slide inside of you, it’s the moment you both know that the aphrodisiac is a strong one. Immediately your walls begin clenching around him, desperately trying to milk his dick. Giyu moans loudly as he bottoms out, his heavy balls plush against your ass. He takes a shaky breath, trying not to cum just yet. Then slowly, he begins his pace. It’s sensual and deep, the tip of his cock pressing against your cervix. He leans in to kiss you, and your tongues rub and roll together hotly.

“Guess this wasn’t the worst valentine’s day,” he confesses. He chuckles when he sees the confusion on your face.

“I’ll tell you later, for now…”

He thrusts deeper and harder into your tight cunt. “I’m busy right now.”

#bacon.writes #giyu x reader #giyu x you #giyu x y/n #Tomioka x reader #Tomioka x you #tomioka x y/n #giyu Tomioka x reader #giyu tomioka x y/n #giyuu x reader #giyuu x you #giyuu x y/n #kimetsu no yaiba #kimetsu no yaiba x reader #kimetsu no yaiba tomioka #demon slayer #demon slayer x reader #Valentine's Day 2024

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maomaop · 8 months

Text

So I absolutely loved episode 17 of the apothecary diaries… they nailed this scene, and most anime onlys were taken aback by how things got dark pretty quickly. The closing scene of the episode being this and ending up on that point was just so perfect. I loved the direction of this episode, and how well they adapted the last scene with the ost that perfectly set the right atmosphere. I don’t know if anime onlys caught on how the question affected Maomao because there was clearly a change of expression on her face and a very serious one at that, hence the sudden change of atmosphere perfectly fitting for an uncomfortable conversation. But Im sure they are thinking Lakan forced himself on Fengxian but all Im gonna say is wait for the whole story!

the blurry background… the silence, the intimacy of the conversation, the sunset along with her speaking of this close to his destination which seems to be much more than just a simple restaurant is just such a nice and important detail.

#kusuriya no hitorigoto #the apothecary diaries #maomao #jinshi #apothecary diaries

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thisblogisaboutabook · 8 months

Text

Cowboy Like Me - Part 4

Azriel x Reader

Part four of my fic inspired by the queens of my heart, Taylor Swift and Sarah J. Maas.

Reader meets another member of the Inner Circle!

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 5

Warnings: alcohol

“This would look stunning on you!” The cheery blonde before me raved. Her golden locks falling over her shoulders as she held the gown up to my body.

When Azriel brought me to Velaris, I didn’t know what to expect. I’d heard rumors of the glowing city - the way the stars and fae lights reflected off the waters of the Sidra flowing through it, turning the river into a living rainbow. A city of diversity where lesser and higher fae alike roamed the streets in peace. Like most things in life, it sounded too good to be true.

But experiencing it was surreal - like jumping from one world to another far more advanced world. Various fae strode side by side in casual conversation as delightful aromas of spices and baked goods wafted past from the markets full of goods being peddled by smiling vendors. The streets lined with businesses for every need: restaurants, taverns, book shops, healing centers, grocers, apothecaries, even theaters and music halls.

Azriel brought me to a cafe for tea upon arrival where we sat on a cozy patio warmed by some form of magic similar to whatever warmed the Moonstone Palace. The tea blend imported from somewhere on the continent warmed my insides with a smooth flavor that even the most particular of tastebuds could appreciate. Azriel stuck with a classic breakfast tea. The way this male licked his lips after a sip warmed me inside even more than the steaming brew in my cup. Did he realize how beautiful he was?

“So….what do you think?” He asked.

“Beautiful” I marveled, my gaze locked in on him, the corded muscles of his arm, the way his eyes crinkled just slightly as his lips turned up into a smile, his bright hazel eyes filled with pride as he shared a place so special with me.

Right, the city.

I quickly averted my gaze from the beautiful male before me back to the streets. I continued, “I love it. The joy that flows effortlessly from the people is palpable. I can tell that your court takes excellent care of the citizens… they’re, lucky to have you.”

Perhaps my eyes were deceiving me but I could have sworn that a blush dusted his cheeks at the statement. He really did take pride in this place and its people.

We locked eyes again for a moment before Azriel broke the contact in favor of another bite from his powdered pastry, a bit of the confectioners sugar dusting the corner of his mouth.

Without thinking, I licked my thumb and leaned over the table, wiping away the powdered sugar.

Azriel went still, mouth slightly agape at the contact. It was my turn to blush. “I… I’m so sorry. I don’t know what came over me. You just had a speck of sugar.”

Azriel stared for another moment before blinking, snapping himself out of whatever overcame him. “Actually,” mischief alight in his eyes “you’ve got a bit just right-“ And before I could realize what he was doing, he swiped sugar off of his pastry and ran a stripe down my nose. “There.”

“You little-” I gaped. My sentence cut off as he threw his head back laughing, a warm, deep laugh that ran through me like a damn symphony. A symphony I would love to hear on repeat for the rest of my life. Before I could finish my statement a chuckle cut through the melody of Azriel’s voice as the High Lord and a gorgeous blonde female stepped up to us.

Azriel’s laughter promptly stopped as he looked to the two. Nodding his head in greeting.

Smirking, Rhysand turned to me. “I’d love to hear the rest of that sentence y/n.”

I grinned. Replying with, “I’ll let you use your imagination.” which earned another chuckle from the blonde and High Lord.

Azriel stood. “Y/N this is the Morrigan.” gesturing toward Mor. “Morrigan, this is Y/N, a temporary colleague of mine.”

Temporary.

Ow. Why did that sting a little?

Pull yourself together, girl.

“It’s an honor to meet you, lady Morrigan.” I nodded in reverence toward the famed female warrior.

“Oh please.” She waived a hand in friendly dismissal. “No need for formalities. Please, call me Mor.”

Azriel placed his palms on the table gently, pushing himself up and I followed suit. He informed me that he had a meeting to attend with Rhysand and was leaving me in the hands of Mor who not only was gifted in “truth” but apparently “retail therapy” as well, leading me to the boutique we were shopping in now.

“It is a lovely color and the material is divine.” I replied to Mor, taking in the intricate details of the dress she’d held up to me.

“Come on!” She pleaded. “You HAVE to try this on”

“Fine.” I shrugged. “But only if you try on that gorgeous number that you’ve been eyeing since we stepped in here.”

A wicked grin crossed her full lips. “Oh, you are so on.”

We spent the next several hours browsing shops. I ended up with far too many shopping bags filled with cosmetics, shoes, clothing, a few lacy under things, and even a pair of sapphire earrings. The dress that I settled on was to be altered to my exact measurements and then delivered to the “River House” as Mor had called it.

I had my own money but Mor insisted that she place the items on the High Lord’s tab. Not so begrudgingly, I agreed. I was here for work after all… and I was shopping for a ball that Rhysand intended for me to spy at.

Mor let out an exasperated whoosh of breath and placed a hand on her stomach. Feigning starvation, she insisted we stop for lunch at a new restaurant along the Sidra that she’d been dying to try out. She spirited away our bags into a pocket realm and looped her arm into mine as we walked to the eatery.

Mor ordered a rather expensive bottle of wine imported from the Summer Court along with several tapas plates for us to share.

We fell into easy conversation with eachother. Mor had a warmth about her that could likely get even the most closed off soul to open up to her. Perhaps it had to do with her gift of truth but I had a feeling it was just who she was. I never imagined that the fierce warrior I read about in my studies would be so kind and welcoming.

I only shared surface level details of my history and did not delve into the deeper details that I’d shared with Azriel. However, Mor and I seemed to read each other well - whatever I had experienced, she wouldn’t press further on. Just as I wouldn’t press further on whatever the sadness that lingered behind her eyes was due to when she talked of her past.

As the wine kicked in, Mor finally pressed, “So…. How has living with Azriel been? Hopefully not too full of brooding.” She smirked over the rim of her glass.

I snickered. “No, not all brooding. I smacked some sense into him one evening with a baguette and that seemed to set him straight.”

She burst into a laugh and it was probably the effects of the wine working against me but I admitted for the first time, “I’ve rather enjoyed his company.”

Mor waggled her eyebrows in return, pulling a roll of the eyes from me. “Not like that - he’s just not the cold, unfeeling spymaster that the world views him as.”

She gave a knowing nod in return. “You’re not wrong. He’s a really good male, Y/N. And he seems to have warmed up to you quite well.”

I scoffed. “And how would you know that- that he has warmed up to me?”

I anticipated a witty retort but her gaze remained soft, “He doesn’t laugh like he did this morning for just anyone.”

Swirling the remaining wine in my glass, I contemplated, a question looming in my mind.

Liquid courage don’t fail me now.

“Nesta told me that Azriel has been quiet lately, well, quieter anyway - that he doesn’t go to what she called ‘family dinners’ as often.”

Mor paused for a moment. I started to speak again, realizing my question came out as a statement but she spoke before I could clarify.

“Azriel is… well, he’s got a complicated past. He struggles to see his worth when to everybody else it’s right there in front of him. He thinks he’s undeserving of love, and withdraws when he gets too close to it. He’d rather admire from afar than risk rejection or getting hurt.”

My brows furrowed. A pant of sadness echoing through me. I understood what she was saying but remained curious as to why it changed recently.

Reading my expression, she continued. “I don’t know what exactly happened but he and Feyre’s older sister, Elain, not Nesta. They seemed to grow close after she was Made by the cauldron. Several of us wondered if they were or would become an item but things seemed to fizzle out. We thought perhaps Elain would pursue her mate but she hasn’t.”

“Oh…” I mumbled. “I see.”

If he’d been brooding and not coming around, something told me that he was not over whatever happened between them. My stomach turned over at the thought which felt completely absurd. I owed this male absolutely nothing and he owed me nothing. Sure, he told me he didn’t have a girlfriend but… he was free to see whomever he pleases. Our relationship was a professional one and nothing more.

Mor once again sensed my inner turmoil, raising her eyebrows and setting down her now emptied glass. “His laugh this morning, the one he let out before Rhys and I showed up, I haven’t heard a laugh like that from him in a long time. You’re good for him.”

I finished off my own glass of wine, allowing her words to settle between us. “We’re only colleagues.”

The blonde female’s responding smirk suggested she believed anything but. Graciously, she only waived a dismissive hand before standing up and taking my arm. “Come on, we’ve got more shopping to do.”

————

By the time we reunited with Azriel and Rhys, it was nearly dusk. Mor and I giggled, whispering to eachother as we approached, more than a little tipsy from the drinks we’d had at lunch, plus the champagne the ladies at one of the higher-end boutiques had given us.

My eyes locked with Azriel’s and my breath caught at the gleam of amusement in his shining hazel eyes. The little smirk forming at the corner of his mouth could be responsible for my entire undoing. Gods, this male was a gorgeous sight.

Rhys spared me from any awkwardness stemming from my lingering gaze by cutting in with a playful tone. “I extended an invitation to Azriel for you both to join us for dinner tonight, but he said you’d be too tired from your day of shopping. You don’t look that tired to me.”

Azriel looked at me as if to say “don’t”. Yet between the liquid courage and Mor’s encouraging elbow to the ribs - ouch - I defied him.

“I’m actually feeling rather invigorated, and hungry, after all of today’s excitement. Dinner sounds wonderful!”

Rhysand clapped his hands together, completely diverting his gaze from Azriel who was glaring daggers into him. “Excellent.” He extended an arm to me, his other arm motioning eastward. “This way to the River House.”

————

Azriel

Watching Y/N and Rhys walk arm and arm warmed something in his chest. Mor in turn looped her arm through Azriel’s as the other two walked ahead.

There was a time when Azriel would have relished this moment with Mor, his heart fluttering at the contact but now all he felt was the warmth of an old friend. He would always love Mor but as a sister, a dear friend, nothing more.

“So…” she broke his contemplative silence. “I like her.”

He rolled his eyes at the wicked smirk on her face. “Don’t start, Mor.”

“What?” She gasped, the portrait of mock innocence. “Can’t I tell my dearest friend that I enjoy the company of his-“ she cleared her throat “colleague.”

His lips pressed into a straight line, praying she didn’t notice the slight uptick in his heartbeat. “She’s just my partner for an assignment, Mor, nothing more.”

“Very well.” Mor replied. “I won’t press further. Just remember that my gift is truth and I have known you for over 500 years. I know your tells, Az.”

Changing the topic, he muttered “You had to encourage her to come to dinner, didn’t you?”

She didn’t miss the light blush that dusted his cheekbones. “What? Like I said, I enjoy her company.”

“Yes, but with the entire family? At the River House? I know you’ve noticed the tension there. Couldn’t you enjoy her company elsewhere?”

“Oh - I plan to.”

Before Azriel could dive into whatever she was implying with that statement, Mor added in, “by the way, what IS going on with you lately? Particularly in regard to a certain Archeron sister.”

“Gods, Mor.” Azriel stated. Squeezing the bridge of his nose in response to her pertinence. “Please, just drop it for now.”

Noting his expression and the agitated flare of his shadows, Mor huffed, “Ugh, fine.”

Pleased with the return to silence, Azriel returned his gaze to Y/N and his High Lord. Whatever they were talking about as the setting sun shrouded her in a deep golden-orange hue, had her throwing her head back, absolutely cackling. His shadows urged him to give them the go-ahead to see what they were talking about but he reined them in. A small secret smile ghosted his lips as he memorized the sight of the incandescent beauty before him, her laugh carrying through the air like a melody.

——————————————

Tags: @fxckmiup @saltedcoffeescotch

#sarah j maas #acotar #a court of thorns and roses #a court of silver flames #a court of frost and starlight #azriel #a court of mist and fury #a court of wings and ruin #azriel shadowsinger #azriel x reader #morrigan #inspired by a song #inspired by taylor swift #acotar x taylor swift #cowboy like me #acotar x reader #shadowsinger #shadowsinger x reader #azriel fluff

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sophswritingthings · 10 months

Note

NVM FIGURED OUT PART 7 LOL

So after reader calmed down by Mizu she opens up about how her childhood was always weighing down on her due to be one of the oldest in he family (she has 3 older brothers and this will probably be important later down in the other parts.) and how it was always expected of her to exceed.

She starts to say how her mom even ran away from her dad due to how demented he is and how controlling and manipulative he is. Then talks about how her only sense of security is her three older brothers who suddenly went missing. (They're alive don't worry).

Then Mizu starts to talk about her childhood and past which made reader cry again. Then reader realizes she needs to leave her home in the mountains because she keeps getting ambushed bro 🤬🤬. So she walks into town and declares she's leaving to al of the townsfolk she's been with for year's.

Then she becomes a travelling doctor with her travelling Samurai wife 😸😸😸

(Honestly not my most creative ask but I'm literally in a restaurant rn)

pairing: mizu x fem!apothecary!reader

warning(s): swearing, mentions of abuse

a/n: YAYYYY PART 7!! let’s go baby let’s GOOOO

summary: you and your wife have a heart-to-heart talk about your pasts. you decide to finally leave the mountains; leaving behind the memories of your past with them.

word count: 1,100 words / 5,790 characters

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“come on, my love,” mizu whispered, lifting you up bridal style in her arms. she carries you to your bathhouse stripping down your blood soaked clothes and settling you in the bath.

she does the same with her own clothes, sliding in beside you. she rests your head on her shoulder, brushing her fingers through your now wet hair.

“mizu..?”

you pipe up, your voice quiet.

“yes?” she murmurs back, her hand still combing through your hair in an attempt to keep you calm.

“could I… open up to you, about something? like.. my.. childhood?” you turn your gaze fully on her, gazing up into the beautiful blue eyes.

“of course,” she presses a gentle kiss atop of your head.

“it’s always been such a weight on my chest. as if someone was always lying on my chest, suffocating me,” you take in a deep breath. “I was one of the oldest kids in the family; I have three older brothers and a younger brother and a younger sister.”

you breathe deeply. it’s obviously difficult for you to talk about; mizu can see that. she doesn’t want you to hurt. she rubs the back of your head as you begin to speak again.

“I always had to be perfect; I was the eldest girl, I was to be married off to a high-ranking man, blacken my teeth, and move my family up in the world,” you narrow your eyes. “and when I couldn’t be that; I was beat. the idea of perfection was literally beat into me.”

you chuckle a little; trying to lighten the mood, if only a little.

“my mom ran away when I was about sixteen. she escaped my father, thank fucking god,” you sigh. “my dad was always controlling and manipulative with us; but god, especially her. and I had to just… watch it happen. I couldn’t do anything or I’d be the subject of his anger.”

mizu is staring at you. her eyes are wide as the moon; and she looks terrified. yet she looks empathetic; like she understands you. It looks like she’s never understood you more.

“the only comfort I ever had were my older brothers. they taught me everything I know about medicine!” you smile, gazing at up at her. than your gaze downcasts, back to the water, “they went missing, not too long ago. I went back to try and find them. they were gone.”

she nods, slowly moving her hands about the steaming water. she looked to be… contemplating, something.

“yeah. yeah, I had a pretty shitty childhood, too,” she whispers. “I was always believed to be a monster. an onryō. which is pretty apparent.” she scoffs.

you place a hand comfortingly on her shoulder, squeezing it a little. you never thought of her as a monster; all you saw was your beautiful, strong wife.

“my mother never let me go outside; she cut off all my hair, and told me I always had to be a boy—that the bad men were looking for a girl—a girl,” she whispered her last two words. “she would hit me when I tried to go outside. I—just wanted to be like the other children.. but I never could be like them. I was a monster; a demon. I—still am.”

“no,” you narrow your eyes. “you are not a monster and you never were, mizu—“ you can feel yourself getting teary eyed, again, sniffling as you look up at your wife. “—you are my wife. the woman I love; I never saw a monster. and I don’t think I ever will.”

she rests her head against your shoulder, nodding as she closed her eyes in your warmth.

“I-I love you,” you whisper, wrapping your arms around your knees.

“I love you too, my love.”

the next morning you awoke, lying naked in bed with mizu wrapped around you. you were safe and warm in her arms; that much was true.

but the mountains—the mountains were not safe.

as you got up and got dressed, you moved about your house. the place you had lived since you had escaped your fathers grasp; the place that had brought you safety in such horrible times.

but you believed it had served its purpose.

It served as a cover when you were unsafe, when you were at your lowest.. but.. now—

the man who made you so unsafe in this world was dead.

there was no reason for you to hide anymore. you had love, you had light—it was all different now; and this house only held the bad memories of pain and hiding.

it was time you left.

once mizu had woken up, still groggy and half asleep, you brought the idea to her.

“are you sure?” she questioned, her eyes wide under those glasses. “I haven’t yet gotten the information on where I am going.”

“yes,” you were already packing up medicines and food to bring with you. “we can always nestle into a small town, and I could work for a shop for a little; if we need the rest. but I don’t believe it will take that long.”

you were smiling. you were… excited to leave the home you!d known for so long, weirdly.

she lent down and kissed your cheek, “if you're sure,” she nestled her hat onto her head.

“I’m sure, mizu,” you smile softly.

“than let’s get on with it,” she offers you her hand.

“I'd like to let the townspeople know first… is that okay? they’re gotten so used to me, and I’ve made so many friends, here..” your voice trails off.

“of course,” she takes you by the hand, and you make your way down the mountain.

once into the town, you stand atop of a fountain, with the help of mizu who’s holding your hand because she’s too scared you'll fall in.

“um, excuse me? everyone?”

your voice bellows through the small square; catching the townspeople’s attention. it wasn’t a big area; so they all knew you. and you knew all of them.

“I'd like to let you all know that I’ll be leaving the town,” gasps and murmurs surrounded you. “there’s no need to speculate why, it’s nothing scandalous. I simply need to do this; and I will be leaving with my husband,” you gesture to mizu beside you. “my apprentice will be running the shop from now on. I wish all of you well and good fortune for the rest of your time.”

you step off of the fountain, still clasping mizu's hand. you gaze up at her, smiling tenderly.

“ready?”

“ready.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

a/n: that mizu gif she’s like fuck out my way taigen

#mizu x you #mizu x reader #mizu blue eye samurai #mizu #blue eyed samurai #ask #asked and answered #fic #new fic #fanfic #fanfiction #request #fic request

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i-guess-im-into-this-now · 5 months

Text

The Apothecary Diaries

S1E18 First Watch

Here's where I watch The Apothecary Diaries for the first time and give my thoughts, analysis, predictions, and occasionally I stumble into a joke.

To start at the beginning:

Episode 1

My character/locations cheat sheet

Suiren - Jinshi's attendant

Lakan - master strategist

Pairin - one of the princesses at Verdigris House

Luomen - Maomao's physician father

Meimei: one of the princesses of Verdigris House

Suirei: court lady who doesn't like Maomao

Woah. Okay so that's a loaded exchange.

Jinshi: How does one decrease the value of a courtesan? Maomao: In the case of pregnancy, it would reduce it to nearly zero.

There are 7 seconds of silence in this show after that. Yes, I used a stopwatch to time it. That is a freaking insane pause.

Jinshi makes a move to... I don't know exactly, reach out maybe? Reassure Maomao that he's not planning on doing this? I'm not sure. There is a shit ton of subtext to this conversation, that I'm not sure I have completely figured out but I will try.

Jinshi is the more obviously bothered by this statement, by a lot. Maomao is just observing to see how Jinshi responds to it. Essentially what she says is that a man could rape a courtesan and impregnant her to bring her value down, to ruin her. It would bring her value so low that anyone could afford to buy out her contract at that point. Jinshi has not provided any context to why he asked this question, and Maomao is studying him closely to see what he does with the information. I don't believe she thinks he would do this personally to a courtesan, or she wouldn't have told him. But as it appears, they've arrived at a brothel where Jinshi stopped her before going inside to ask this very fucked up question. She has to at least examine the possibility that she is wrong about Jinshi. And I think he passes her scrutiny, but not without damage done. She's disappointed that he is planning on going into this brothel, and that he asked such a depraved question. It hits particularly hard, because just prior to this they were having a nice moment where she opened up about her father. Now she is likely backtracking, either wondering why she bothered, or scolding herself for behaving inappropriately.

As for Jinshi in this scene, he hasn't revealed why he wants the answer to this particular question so badly. But boy does he want it. He let himself and Maomao fall into Lakan's trap just so that Lakan would tell him the answer. But Lakan didn't answer. Instead Jinshi asks Maomao, knowing that the question is inappropriate. He risks damaging the regard between the two of them so that he can get this answer. He's risking widening the rift between them. But why? What use is this answer to Jinshi? Does this have to do with the story Lakan told? Is he concerned about what may have happened to a courtesan in the past? To Maomao's mother? Is there a courtesan in the present that Jinshi is concerned about? Who can say.

In any case, Jinshi can see the damage that asking it has caused. He tries, I think, to backtrack, but it's too late. Maomao is retreating from him. She wants to flee, this conversation hurts for reasons she doesn't want to examine. Thank god Jinshi is emotionally intuitive. He can't let her walk away like this. The rift between them is too large, there is no telling if it could even be fixed if she leaves now. Jinshi grabs her arm.

Jinshi: You're leaving me now?

Maomao explains that her presence would compromise whatever plans he has in the restaurant. And Jinshi has to agree that makes sense, even if he can't put into thoughts or words why his heart is breaking right now.

Jinshi's critical error in this moment is that he is trying to keep Maomao out of what he's up to. He wants to protect her from whatever he's involved in, yet doing so is harmful too. He never tells her why he is visiting this place. He never explains why he asked the question. She is left to fill in the blanks with her own assumptions, with devastating results. In his effort to protect Maomao, Jinshi has harmed her. Jinshi cares for Maomao, but he hasn't learned to fully trust or respect her. And there will never be a relationship without trust. He's still got a lot of work to do before a real relationship can happen.

Maomao: It's fine. I didn't show any emotion when I spoke.

Maomao!!!

Her heart is breaking here too. I'm only surprised she is willing to admit it to herself. Perhaps the anguish of this moment has become too great to deny? For as sad as this scene is, that Maomao is aware and acknowledging her emotions is a major breakthrough! I suspect she's in for some painful moments now that she has to feel her pain, but you can't heal what you don't feel. She's on a path of healing now! Yay!

Oh my god, she even turned around to watch him walk into the building. So good Maomao. You're doing great girl!

Maomao: I truly hope you enjoy your evening good sir.

Maomao you dirty little liar!

Okay so maybe we only get to see a tiny step forward for Maomao, but a tiny step is still progress! I'm just so happy to see anything that pokes past the impasse that Jinshi and Maomao have been stuck at for ages.

The fuck kind of nightmare was that?! No wonder Maomao doesn't like to feel her emotions if she gets horrible flashbacks. Was she the baby in that scene? It looked like someone who was horribly injured tried to kill a baby. Apparently they couldn't go through with it. Was this Maomao's courtesan mother? Was she burned or scarred in someway? Perhaps to bring down her value? Or was the baby the product of rape? Was she trying to get rid of the baby to allow her to what? Return to being a courtesan? Seems unlikely with the injuries. Because she hates how the baby was conceived? Because the baby reminds her of the man who did this to her? Maybe to kill the baby so it couldn't be abused by someone else? Maybe because the woman in the scene was planning to kill herself after killing the baby?

Maomao looks at her hand, then thinks about the conversation she had with Jinshi yesterday. She then says of the nightmare that she brought it up. So there is a connection between the conversation and the nightmare. I'm guessing that what Jinshi asked about is exactly what happened to Maomao's mother, which triggered her memory. Why look at her hand? Does this have anything to do with her bandaged arm? Does the neglect or abuse of her mother have something to do with Maomao's low self-worth and the reason she is willing to self harm for her experiments? Or is she looking at her hand just to ground herself in reality, to try to fight back the traumatic memories?

After being awoken by her nightmare, Maomao is comforted by the familiar sight and routine of her father working in the apothecary. He asks her to take a package to Verdigris House.

This is maybe as good a time as any to ponder if Maomao's connection with Verdigris House is greater than that of an apothecary. I mean clearly it is, she considers the people here to be her family. But could she have had blood family that lived here as well? Was her mother one of the courtesans? I think that has been hinted at fairly strongly now.

Maomao is welcomed back with open arms. I'm so glad too see it. When was the last time someone gave Maomao a hug? Was it the last time she was here at the brothel?

Pairin is being harassed by granny to make a choice on something, and Maomao uses the opportunity to sneak away.

Pairin: Is she going to the annex?

I fricking hope so! I've been waiting for this!

Okay, so the annex is part of Verdigris House. And it looks identical to the room in Maomao's nightmare. So this must be where Maomao's mother lived. Perhaps where she died. And Maomao lived here, at least as an infant. How did she end up with Luomen?

Oh shit! Her mother is still alive?! But in a terrible state. She has some terrible illness. And it's not confirmed that this is her mother, but isn't it implied? Either way, Maomao used to be chased out of here by this angry person though it seems she no longer has the energy.

And hold on, I remember a scene from the last time Maomao was in the Verdigris House where granny asked her to tend to what I thought was just an ill courtesan, but perhaps it was this person in the annex.

Maomao's mother patient seems to be in the end stages of her illness. She no longer has energy to even speak. Luomen's once effective treatments don't offer relief, and there is nothing more that can be done. Though she may have been dealing with her decline for a long time Maomao will soon have to deal with the death of her mother. This may not be a healthy relationship, but there will still be grief. We grieve for people even when it's complicated. We also grieve what could have been, what never was. And there is never a good time to lose someone, but certainly some times are worse than others. Much of Maomao's life is uncertain right now, and she just took an emotional blow from her interaction with Jinshi, causing her to dip into the emotions she tries to avoid, now this on top of it. When it rains, it pours.

There is a troublesome customer visiting the Verdigris House. Meimei has been tasked to meet him. How foreboding. It couldn't be Lakan could it? His history with courtesans makes me ill.

Okay so maybe this lady isn't Maomao's mother, maybe she is. Maomao explains that the woman has syphilis. At least Verdigris House takes care of their own. I love that. Luomen may have been able to do something for this woman if he had arrived to serve the brothel during an earlier stage of the illness. There is a flashback here, where we get a glimpse of young Maomao in the brothel. No one trusted the eunuch doctor from no where, even if he could have done something. After contracting syphilis, the lady had to go on serving customers until the sores spread over her whole body, and she was locked up in the annex.

The woman tried to hum a tune, but is unable to to speak. I wonder if Maomao recognizes it.

Little girl: Big sis wanted you to know that the weirdo with the monocle is here, so you should avoid going out there for awhile.

Oh no! It is Lakan! Why is this little girl telling Maomao specifically so she can avoid him? Does he have a history with Maomao at the brothel? I'm trying to recall all of the things that Lakan said about the courtesan he used to visit at Verdigris House. That he could beat her at shogi, but not go. That she never sold herself but that she had an arrogant expression... I mean, I could be looking into it too much, but that... could be Maomao? Did she work as a courtesan here before? Is this why Jinshi is so determined to find out how someone might have reduced the price of a courtesan?! Did he know she used to work here? Does he worry that something terrible has happened to Maomao here? DID IT! Oh my god! It would explain so much about her fear of working as a courtesan, and her trauma. What the fuck happened in this brothel?! And who all knows about it! I demand answers!

I'm going to pull it back a little bit, and return to an earlier theory that Lakan is actually Maomao's biological father. He may have a history with Maomao at the brothel but that may be as a man who was somewhat interested in the daughter he fathered. Understandably, Maomao wants nothing to do with him. We learn here that Maomao knows who Lakan is though. Thank god they didn't run into each other in the palace. Can she really go on avoiding him? He can follow her in the palace or in the Pleasure District.

Maomao refers to Lakan as a long time customer of the Verdigris House, an old acquaintance, but that if she just stays put in the annex, she won't run into him. Okay, but tell me why you don't want to run into him....

Maomao has had a rough day. She's still reeling from her conversation with Jinshi and now she has been trapped all day in the annex with a woman who maybe hates her, so that she can avoid Lakan. She's had nothing to do but think about all the really painful emotions that she usually stays busy to avoid. Meimei finds Maomao hiding out in the annex, and lets her know that Lakan has left. Apparently he has brough up an offer for Maomao?! Maomao hates it, and so do I!

Maomao worries that if she didn't have her job that the madam of Verdigris House would have sold her off to Lakan by now. She thinks that Lakan's interest is the main reason that the madam wants her to become a courtesan. So Lakan is a major contributing factor to why Maomao is so fiercely opposed to being a courtesan. Her terror takes on a new shade of meaning now. If only we knew what has transpired between Maomao and Lakan in the past, we could understand.

Meimei has been given offers to leave the brothel, but has as yet turned them all down. She's getting close to retirement age, but isn't ready for that yet. Maomao asks why she doesn't just leave? To Maomao the freedom to choose would be preferrable to any offer that a customer could make. Maomao thinks that Meimei is holding out for love. Perhaps she is in love with someone already, and is waiting for an offer from that person.

Maomao: Maybe it's love. But if that's the case. It's not a rabbit hole I want to delve into. That's an emotion I'm sure I left behind. Back in the womb of the woman who birthed me.

Nearly every example of romantic love that Maomao has is heartbreaking. She's seen heartbreak after heartbreak in the brothel, with courtesans having promises made to them, and then broken. We don't know the story of her parents, but if her mother is the dying woman in the annex, or if she has died already, then then there is heartbreak in her story as well. Even the concubines in the palace don't have the love of the emperor, instead they merely battle for his attention and favor. The sole example she has seen is that of the concubine who was able to escape the Rear Palace when her military beau was able to secure her release.

Maomao is not open to the idea of love, in fact it is something she tries to avoid, disdains even. This view of love is one of the reasons we have seen her repeatedly shut down any tender emotion she's had, and why she is so willing to read any other explanation when love is directed at herself. And she tells us here, that it stems from her parents. How is she ever going to trust someone enough to love them and be loved in return?

And what a way to talk about one's own mother. "The woman who birthed me." So there is a story there. It sounds like one of abandonment, neglect or abuse, as we've already guessed.

The princesses want to pamper Maomao, and she adores the attention. This girl is so touch starved. I wondered about Maomao's need for physical touch, way back in episode 2 when Jinshi touched Maomao's hair and breathed on her neck. He did it in an effort to try to seduce her, but her reaction was interesting. She didn't get disgusted or freaked out as she did with his flirting. She just kind of let it happen. Now we see it with the courtesans that she considers family. Meimei is scrubbing Maomao's back and she is relaxed and smiling. The courtesans love Maomao so much, I wish she could have this kind of affection all the time.

Hard transition to Jinshi. A man who maybe has never had a hug in his life, except for the back hug he stole from Maomao when he was drunk. He's regretting that his date went so terribly, he didn't mean to give the impression to Maomao that he was trying to hook up with someone. He tells us that it definitely wasn't what he traveled there for, which is really unnecessary. No one who has been watching this show believed he was. I would like for him to tell us what he was up to though.

Maomao has retuned to Jinshi's residence, and Jinshi steels himself to face her. He's embarrassed and knows he's once again put space between them, when all he wants to do is find a way to get closer. Plus, it looks like he's carrying that jug of... beverage that Lakan left. He presents it as a present from a weirdo. Their conversation lacks all of the usual banter, and is perfectly polite, which for these two is a disaster. Jinshi watches her walk away. He's not sure where to even begin to repair this. He's frustrated. Maomao is doing her best to pretend like Jinshi already left. Gaoshun is there listening closely. Suiren is there watching Maomao and wondering what has changed, but knows it's some bullshit because she says:

Suiren: For goodness' sake.

Yeah Suiren. I feel that in my bones. But when I say it there is usually an F bomb in there somewhere.

Maomao is having very complicated feelings about having seen her mother the woman in the annex. It's distracting her from her work. It seems bad, but it's a good sign that Maomao is starting to face her emotions and try to process them, rather than avoid them.

Suiren thinks Maomao's distraction has to do with the master of the residence so she decides it's time to say something. Suiren realizes that hints and subtly don't work so well for Maomao when it comes to herself. She needs very blunt advice, which Suiren provides.

Suiren encourages Maomao to ask Jinshi for some space for her apothecary supplies.

Suiren: You may appear apathetic, but you're keen. You know where you stand, and how to play the game.

Yes! Call her on her bullshit Suiren!

Suiren: Because somebody was born noble doesn't inherently make them any different from you or me.

She's telling Maomao to quit looking at Jinshi as some lofty official, see him as a person.

Suiren: If you view everything in terms of status, then you'll miss opportunities.

Thank you Suiren! Internalize that Maomao. Put it in your head and keep it there.

Maomao has an errand to run at the court pharmacy, and she's delighted. She'll sparkling here. If only Maomao could be employed here.

The odd court lady that smacked Maomao in the head a few episodes back has arrived. Maomao figures that this lady works in the guard house and handles herbs in her job, which is why she had a bitter smell earlier, here I thought she was on drugs. Maomao ponders why the lady dislikes her so much, when they've had so little interaction.

A little casual classism for flavor. The pharmacist bemoans that the court lady is required to come pick up drugs herself. Then realizes he said it in front of Maomao and tries to back track. It's not okay work for a court lady, but fine for servant. That comment right on the heals of Suiren's much better advice about class.

Maomao discovers that the item she was sent to pick up was potato flour and wonders why Jinshi needs it. She pieces together a few things about Jinshi's actions. She suspects his actions are part of a purification ceremony that would be used to perform ceremonial rights. Something a nobleman might do. Something that would be strange for a eunuch to do. I'm tired of this theme. Moving on.

Gaoshun and Jinshi are trying to piece together the mystery of Luomen, but Jinshi can't stop thinking about how things are so distant and confused between himself and Maomao, right now. And just to make sure Jinshi never gets a moments peace, Lakan arrives.

Lakan is in the same house where Maomao is right now, and on the one hand I'm hoping they don't run into each other for Maomao's well being, but on the other hand, let's get this plot moving along. It's time to throw Maomao to the wolves.

Question: why does Lakan bring his own beverage whenever he visits? Is he afraid of being poisoned?

Jinshi isn't even bothering to hide how irritated he is at this visit. That's telling. And maybe a mistake. Or maybe intentional.

Jinshi: It seems to me, that you had engaged in some dirty trickery. Lakan: How very rude. That's rich to hear from a thief like yourself.

Gasp! Jinshi a thief?! Go on!

Oh no! Lakan really was trying to get Maomao. He spent a decade trying to get Maomao? Maomao who is what? All of 17 or 18 here? Has he been trying to get Maomao out of the brothel since she was a child? With good intentions or bad ones? Lakan feels he's been made a fool. He tell Jinshi he's upset with him over this.

Jinshi is worried, pissed, and oh so intent.

Jinshi: So do you want your prize returned?

I'm fairly certain that Jinshi wouldn't do that, and is just moving the conversation to find out Lakan's intentions.

Lakan: Not quite. I will pay whatever it is you ask.

That's... a hell of a look from Jinshi. So intense! Jinshi fucking hates this guy.

Jinshi: And if I refuse?

Lakan: Well then, I suppose there is nothing I can do is there.

Which is a threat to wreck Jinshi's life! It's a declaration of war. Holy shit!

Lakan: How many people could defy a man of your rank? I could count every single one of them on one hand.

The imperial family maybe? Yup that's it. Jinshi knows that Lakan knows his true identity.

Oh my god. Lakan knows everything!

Lakan: I'm just concerned you know. About what my daughter would think.

He's threatening to expose the truth about Jinshi, and hits him where it hurts the most: Maomao. Jinshi was worried that Maomao may be this man's daughter, and Lakan just confirmed as much.

Jinshi is tense. Hands balled into fists, posture wary, as Lakan asks to meet Maomao. This asshole has been following Maomao. First at the brothel and now to Jinshi's residence.

Everyone one of Lakan's moves were so well played, and Jinshi... is trapped. He once again has to make a choice between the obligations of his station and his own personal desires. He can give this official what he is asking for and go on business as usual, after all what is one servant over another? It would be an easy decision for someone else other than Jinshi, if it were about someone else, other than Maomao.

Jinshi looks deep in thought when he comes upon Maomao while the sun is setting. Is something ending here?

Jinshi addresses Maomao as "apothecary." It's respectful in that it acknowledges her for her skills, she may even like being called this, but it's another sign of the distance between the two. I don't know the last time he called her by her name.

Jinshi seems very nervous to bring this up to Maomao. You can hear the tension in his voice. Unusual for Jinshi, when he is usually bold and shameless when interacting with Maomao. It's a sign of just how precarious things are between the two right now. Also, a sign of just how divided Jinshi is about even bringing this suggestion to Maomao.

Jinshi: There's... an official who wants to meet you sometime soon. ... It's...that weirdo I've been telling you about. His name's... Lakan.

A pause. Then a fricking jump scare of Maomao's intense glare! This glare isn't giving Jinshi chills in the fun way. She looks legit scary. It reminds me of a frightened animal that has been backed into a corner and has no choice left but to fight. Lakan is a line she will not cross. An absolute boundary. With one look she declares that there is nothing she won't do to avoid that meeting.

Jinshi: I'll find a way to let him down gently.

Jinshi, Jinshi, Jinshi.... what the hell are you going to do? If you can't convince Maomao to see Lakan, and you won't force her to do it, then your other choice is to go to war with Lakan.

Jinshi: I've never seen her make a face like that. I never want to see it again. Ever.

I hope he means that as I'm going to do everything I can to keep her protect her from Lakan. I hope this is a turning point for Jinshi, where he chooses Maomao in a real way. I hope he won't waver again on this, allowing Lakan room to maneuver Maomao and himself.

Maomao is distressed that Lakan has found her again. She goes to collect medicinal herbs. A familiar and comforting activity.

She is approached by Suirei who cares for the herb garden near the military officers' part of the palace. Maomao questions what Suirei is growing here and Suirei claims she planting a medicine for resurrection?

Maomao has a VERY strong reaction to that. Who has died in Maomao's life that she is that desperate to get back? A family member? Someone she loved? A patient she couldn't save?

Suirei claims to be joking. What a strange lady. Are we absolutely sure she's not on drugs? The music is unsettling in this scene and so is Suirei. She asks how good of an apothecary Maomao is then tells her she's going to plant morning glories here. I happen to know that those are poisonous! Is Suirei hoping to make a poison? Will she try to get Maomao to do it?

The sun is setting over the palace and the music is ominous. Is something serious about to happen in the next episode?

To start at the beginning: Episode 1

Next Episode:

Episode 19

#the apothecary diaries #apothecary diaries #jinshi x maomao #jinshi #jinmao #maomao

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