#bookshelf; personal studies (musings)

[mistrdctr]

How are you ruined?

ruined by loneliness

you are so lonely. you are miserable in your solitude. you hate that you cannot bring yourself to reach out, to ask for help. you will be forgotten by all who never knew you. your biggest fear is that you will die alone, and you know this fear will be seen to fruition. you refuse to extend yourself beyond the box that others put you in. and it is a box that no one dare come near. you are lonely because you are afraid of yourself.

tagged by: Took it from my other blog (kinda from @ssolessurvivor ♥) tagging: @deficd @bloodstainedstar @illbringthechaosmagic @wildcxrds @theprice-cffreedcm @storyuntrue @smertzimy @forevermuses and you ♥

[sloanesallow]

Big Brained

There's nothing wrong with being feral for one's husband, right? Sloane can't help it, especially when Sebastian shows off that big, sexy brain of his. ✨Sebastian Sallow x F!MC Tags: NSFW! MDNI! Sexual content, oral sex (m receiving), exactly one spank, and some Sebastian dirty talk. 2.5k words [Read on Wattpad] - [Read on Ao3] - [tumblr masterlist] Reblogs, comments, and kudos are always appreciated! ✨

The last place Sloane wants to be is the Ministry of Magic.

She has managed to avoid a permanent place at Whitehall, despite Minister Spavin’s constant and personal invitations for her to join their ranks. Her answer is always no—she does not want a career in the wizarding world’s government, preferring her freedom and whatever anonymity she has left. Unfortunately, the same could not be said for her husband, who is technically under their employment, contracted to work as a curse-breaker with the Department of Magical Law Enforcement.

At twenty, Sebastian is young, but incredibly talented, and one of the Auror’s greatest assets. He is usually in some far-off destination, exploring ancient tombs and collecting artifacts with a rag-tag crew, helping to chase down Dark Wizards and undo any havoc caused. Sloane travels with the group as an unofficial healer, treating mysterious and mundane wounds while researching remedies both magical and muggle. They are a dynamic duo of sorts, and the Ministry knows that the Sallows are a package deal, the bond inseparable—unbreakable. 

After spending the last three months in the Austrian wilderness, they are back in London to receive a new assignment. Sloane spends the morning checking in on their dusty flat and shares a few cups of tea with Poppy in the local shoppe before venturing back to the second floor to find Sebastian. Even though he is rarely in-office, the Aurors keep a room clear for his use, tucked away from the hustle and bustle of what she calls the ‘bull-pen’.

Sloane can hear a few familiar voices as she approaches the open door, peeking her head in to see Sebastian in the middle of a fervent discussion with two of the officers who accompanied them in Salzburg. The other men don’t seem to notice her presence, but her husband acknowledges her entrance with a quick glance, the corner of his mouth twitching up before he refocuses his attention.   

“Have the scouts reported back?”

“Yes, sir,” Jeffries, the older and more skeptical Auror replies. Sir—Sloane sees the subtle pride in Sebastian’s expression, even if the title causes her to bite back a laugh. Jeffries continues, “the rumors about increased activities on the Nordic coast are true. Intelligence suggests a small, but powerful group of heretics are attempting to locate bloodrunes, magic the Ministry hasn’t encountered in…centuries.”

That you know of, Sloane muses to herself as she idly peruses the nearby bookshelf, overflowing much like the shelves at home.

“Bloodrunes require significant power to activate,” Sebastian states, not bothering to specify if this knowledge is based on first-hand experience or not. He leans over the map spread out across the desk and traces a finger along the supposed site. “There are probably laylines that can be disrupted, but I won’t speculate until I see the area for myself.”

“Perhaps we should wait before sending a team—”

“Wait for what, exactly?” Sebastian interjects, raising an eyebrow in challenge. He straightens his posture and crosses his arms. “A blood sacrifice? Neither of you studied ancient magical tribes, so I won’t fault you for your ignorance, but the last time runes like these were activated, it triggered a tidal wave that destroyed the sea walls along the Nordic coast. Thousands of people were killed.”

Sloane glances up from the book she is pretending to read and feels only a little shame for ogling her husband when he is in the middle of an important conversation. But she enjoys watching Sebastian showcase his intelligence—he’s always been a little cocky, and rightfully so—he won’t back down when he knows he is right. With his coat discarded and sleeves pinned up, she can see the way the muscles in his arms flex as he waits for either man to respond.

“Alright, Sallow, you win,” the other Auror, Bartie, sighs. The red-headed Weasley is a few years older than her and Sebastian but is far more trusting than the rest of the old guard. “What do you need from us?”

Sebastian shrugs, trying not to smirk when he gets his way. “Whomever the department can spare, really. Preferably those who are proficient in more than just defensive magic. A liaison for the local communities as well, to safeguard them from harm.”

“Should I contact St. Mungos—”

“That won’t be necessary,” Sebastian waves off Jenkins’ inquiry. It should be known by now that the only healer needed is Mrs. Sallow—Sloane. The Aurors give curt nods and Sebastian flicks his gaze to where she is standing. “Now, if you’ll excuse me gentlemen, but I believe my wife has been waiting long enough.”

She smiles somewhat bashfully as the two men finally notice her just as they are being shooed out of the room. Jeffries is indifferent, but Bartie offers a polite smile and wave before leaving.

“Looks like we’re off on another adventure, sweetheart,” Sebastian says when they are alone, re-crossing his arms as he leans back against the desk. Sloane is already swiftly crossing the room, practically launching herself onto him as she swallows his surprised laughter in a kiss. He quickly hooks his arms around her waist, holding her steady as she presses up on her toes to meet his height the best she can.

“Mmm—hello,” he manages, pulling away with a breathless grin. “You’re certainly in a mood.”

“Yes, sir,” she simply replies, catching the glimmer of excitement that passes through his coffee-colored eyes. Sloane touches her heels back to the floor, smoothing her hands across his shoulders and chest, playing with the straps of his suspenders. “Is that so bad?”

“Not at all,” Sebastian hastily shakes his head and gives her hips an appreciative squeeze. “I’m usually the needy one, is all.”

“Well, I can’t help it when you show off,” she explains, undoing the first two buttons of his shirt. “I love your big brain.”

Sebastian’s brows twitch up at the word big, but before he can make a lewd comment she palms the front of his pants, and he croaks instead. He recovers quickly, hands snapping up to firmly cradle her face as he captures her lips in a kiss that speaks volumes of his hunger for her. Sloane matches his enthusiasm, tugging at his suspenders until they are hanging at his sides. As she flicks open the clasps of his trousers, he fumbles for his wand, muttering the necessary spells against her lips to slam shut the door, waiting for the audible click of the lock before tossing it aside.

It isn’t very often that Sloane is in control, and she takes full advantage of catching him off guard, not-so-gently pushing him back until he topples into the cushioned armchair with an oof. He watches her with a mesmerized expression, shifting to accommodate as she kneels between his spread legs. She continues with removing his trousers, pulling them down along with his underwear until the fabric pools around his ankles.

Sloane wastes no time, finding satisfaction in the way Sebastian’s breath hitches as she wraps one hand around the base of his cock, already hard from her teasing. She leisurely strokes him, pushing up his shirt so she can trail a path of wet kisses across his navel, hipbone, and thighs. Her thumb brushes over the sensitive head, spreading the gathering of pre-come as he shudders, breathing already labored. With a coy glance up through her lashes, she slowly takes him into the warmth of her mouth.

Sebastian’s fingers quickly thread into her hair, tugging at the ash-blonde strands as her lips slide down his length until she feels him against the back of her throat. She sucks in to create a perfect seal, repeating the up and down motion a few times before leaning back to swirl her tongue around the tip.

“F—fuck…” Sebastian groans, his head lulling back. Sloane steadily increases her pace, humming until the vibration prompts him to slide open his eyes to watch her head bob in his lap. Her fingers continue to stroke where her lips can’t reach, her other hand softly fondling his sac in a way that has his hips bucking up involuntarily.

She keeps her eyes on his face as it contorts with pleasure, brows furrowed deeply as he resists the urge to unravel too quickly. It’s thrilling for her to see him at her mercy, incoherent murmurs of praise falling from his lips as she eagerly coaxes him to the edge. His grip tightens in her hair, pressing against the nape of her neck, a telltale sign he’s close.

“Slo—Sloane,” he gasps, voice strained. “I—oh, fuck—I’m—”

The rest of his sentence dissolves into a strangled moan, his body tensing and cock twitching against her tongue as he spills his release. Sloane swallows it all, remembering to breathe through her nose as she takes every last drop he has to offer. Sebastian slumps back, in a daze as Sloane pulls away with a wet pop and self-satisfied smirk. There’s a lopsided grin on his face as he silently admires her, affectionately sweeping the hair from her face before brushing the pad of his thumb across her wet lips.  

Even though Sloane can feel the slick of her arousal within her undergarments, she is content enough to wait until they return to their London flat for reciprocation. Seeing Sebastian so boneless and completely sated is satisfaction enough. She slides her hands across his thighs, gently massaging the remaining tension away.

“Ready to go home?” she asks, already imagining the evening ahead. A long bath, a hearty meal, and the comfort of their marital bed—not that they’ll be doing much sleeping.

Sebastian gradually sits up and Sloane pushes herself to stand, ready to help him right his trousers and gather his belongings so they can leave before more Aurors—or heaven forbid the Minister himself—stops by for another chat. But Sebastian shakes his head and the devilish gleam in his eyes is all the warning she has before his hands are on her, spinning her around to bend her over the desk.

“Seb!” the protest dies on her tongue as he hoists up her skirts, tucking them around her waist. Sloane sucks in a breath as he cups her, fingers pressing firm against the dampness of her knickers. He makes an appreciative sound, applying more pressure where she needs it the most, but just as she pushes back against his touch it’s gone, and all she can do is whimper at the loss.

“Don’t worry, darling,” Sebastian coos, peeling the delicate fabric away to expose her naked flesh. “I’ll take care of you.”

She lets out a surprised squeak when he playfully smacks her bare bottom, even more heat pooling in her gut as her legs tremble. Sebastian huffs a soft chuckle, this time smoothing the skin over with a gentle touch.

“More?” he asks, the deep timbre of his voice causing her to shiver.

She nods, barely remembering to speak, “yes.”

“Yes…?”

Sloane flushes—even after all these years, Sebastian can so easily fluster her. “Y—yes, sir.”

“Good girl.”

Perhaps some lingering naivety makes her believe he’ll simply take her like this, but no, her husband clearly has other plans for her. His hands slide up the back of her thighs until his thumbs are spreading her open, teasing her silken folds and entrance.

“Is this what I do to you?” he rasps, sliding two fingers through her arousal before slowly sinking them into her as she lets out a shuddering sigh. The way she flexes around him as he leisurely pumps in and out betrays just how impatient she is for his offer of pleasure. When she lifts her hips to meet his ministrations, Sebastian presses his free hand to her lower back, keeping her still.

“I said I’d take care of you,” his voice is gruffer than before, and she bites back a whine when he removes his fingers. “Do you want me to stop?”

“No,” she breathes, shaking her head. A part of her realizes this is Sebastian’s way of showing her who is really in charge, now.

“Do you want to come around my fingers?”

Sloane shakes her head again, fighting the urge to squeeze her thighs together for the slightest ounce of relief.

“No?” Sebastian feigns surprise, amused by her startled moan when he slips his fingers back inside her anyways. “My, my…you are needy today, aren’t you?”

All she can do is moan, disrupting the parchment on the desk as she grasps for purchase.

“Well,” he says in a sigh, curling his fingers to press against the spot that makes her vision blurry with stars. “You’ll have to use your words, my love. Tell me what you need.”

Sloane bites down a little harder on her bottom lip, her entire body now hot and prickled with goosebumps. She used to hate when he prompted her like this, attempting to coax filthy words from her lips and make her beg. But she really is too indigent right now to care, glancing over her shoulder to meet his wicked expression.

“Sebastian, I swear to God, if you don’t—”

“Isn’t it a sin to swear to God?” he muses, acting as if he isn’t knuckle-deep inside her. “My Sloane is much more polite than that.”

Insufferable tease—she huffs in frustration, but the warm swirl in her gut is a stark reminder that she loves it, loves him.

“Please,” she starts, deeply exhaling. “Shut up and fuck me.”

Sebastian tries to hide his delight but fails, laughing as he shifts to properly stand behind her, nudging her stance a little wider so they are properly aligned. “As my lady wishes.”

There is little teasing after that, Sebastian nudging his hardened-again cock against her before snapping forward to fill her in one fluid stroke. Her sharp gasp is drowned out by his deep groan and it’s very clear neither will last very long. Almost immediately, he sets a quick pace, the friction an agonizingly wonderful burn. Sloane can feel her legs shaking, straining as she stands on the very tip of her toes, Sebastian holding her up by the waist and hips to meet his thrusts.

“That’s it,” he grunts, not bothering to keep any sort of rhythm. He folds his body over hers, his free hand grasping her right wrist, pinning it to the desk as he bares his weight down. “Just like that.”

Sloane whimpers her approval, the warmth of him holding her down a comfort she never expected to enjoy or need. He ruts his hips against hers until they are both frantically crying out, core fluttering around him as he spills again, this time deep inside her heat.

It takes several moments for them to float back down to reality, Sloane sighing as Sebastian rests himself a little more comfortably across her back. He nestles his nose against her neck, affectionately sweeping through her sweat-matted hair as he presses a few lazy kisses to the shell of her ear.

He repeats her earlier ask with a breathless chuckle, “ready to go home?”

She hums her agreement, the two unhurried as they fix their appearances and attempt to tidy up any mess. As they leave the offices hand-in-hand, Sloane thinks to herself that maybe, just maybe, the Ministry of Magic isn’t so bad after all.

[wclfstrife]

“Character Setting!”

Send me “Character Setting!” to learn about my muse’s home!

main verse.

viewed in-game, it's a standard apartment, although small, it seems adequate for a single person, but with him not spending too much time there and after the fall of the sector 7 plate, it didn't get a chance to be personalized.

advent children verse.

he lived with tifa, barret and marlene in the newly built 7th heaven bar, however this was not shown but i imagine it's similar to that of a small-medium sized room -- perhaps upstairs -- of the bar that did have a few details within to express it was cloud's room, perhaps more or less the same as his original living situation, just the necessities. basic bed, dresser maybe a bookshelf, the works. this was up until he moved into the sector 5 church, however hard to say how exactly he lived there other than camping gear. after all the events of AC happened, cloud went back to living with everyone else.

modern.

kitchen. the house was bought as is, i really tried to make it standard but might be considered too much considering this dude lives alone and 100% forgets to feed himself daily, but perfect for get-togethers!

bedrooms & bathrooms. these are pretty standard as well, nothing too cluttered but could seem lackluster to the eyes of others. many of the doors lead to small attached balconies if one would like to just sit outside, another has a chess table outside too should he met/invite someone over to play chess. ( i don't know whether or not he knows how to play ). the smaller room can serve as some sort of study or hobby/game room, or even a temporary guest bedroom should he install a bed there. bathrooms are more or less the same in both appearance and function, except that his ( master bedroom bathroom ) doesn't have room for a shower, which he prefers as they are quicker. plus a dog bed in his room for his puppy!

living room. i didn't get a close up screenshot. not too fancy but definitely cozy -- because he deserves it -- as defined by the fireplace in the back. this is would probably be the area where he decides at 2 am to move furniture around because he was bored.

[mikrowrites]

cottages of constellations

c!wilbur x f!reader

warnings: angst, fluffy flashbacks, arson, character death

summary: there’s a place only known by two people, full of sweet memories and domesticity. but the world isn’t sweet anymore, and sometimes violence is the only universal language. rather, Sophie visits the cottage she and Wilbur shared before the war, and is met by an unlikely guest.

might make a part two w doomsday and revivebur, we shall see...

Y/n sighed, sitting upon her horse as the wind blew across the grassy field. Smoke still rose behind her from fires still not put out long after the destruction, the girl shaking her head to try and absolve the memory from her head.

She gripped the reins, goading the horse to move, Y/n riding across the field. She knew where she needed to go, she knew the coordinates by heart.

No one else knew about the cottage, just two people, and one of them... well, he’s dead. There’s no sugar coating that. It resided far from the server, a little place just for the two of them.

After a few hours, with the sun rising behind, Y/n rode into the woods. She kept going forwards until she reached the river, stopping the horse. She looked forwards, pursing her lips.

The cottage.

“This is the perfect place!”

Wilbur jumped off his horse, pointing to the small clearing along the river.

“You think so?” Y/n asked, walking up beside him to stare at the landscape.

“Of course.” He emphasized. “But of course perfect is wherever you are.”

Y/n scoffed. “Jesus, that was cheesy.”

Wilbur laughed, running down the landscape towards the small clearing. He turned back, smiling.

“Hey, are you coming?”

Y/n tied her horse to a lead, patting it in thanks before moving forwards, approaching the cottage.

It looked frozen in time, from when Y/n had left it to help fight for L’manburg. The flowers still looked kept, the farm out back unharvested. She smiled as she approached the cottage, taking in the blooming flowers.

“It’s a surprise, so no looking.”

“Okay, okay!” Y/n allowed Wilbur to lead her over outside the cottage.

Wilbur stopped. “Okay, you can look.”

Y/n opened her eyes, walking over to peer at several brightly colored flowers planted around the cottage’s exterior. The hues painted the landscape, causing her jaw to drop at the beauty.

“Do you like it?” Wilbur nervously asked, Y/n whipping her head around to cast him a bright smile.

“I love it, Wilbur.”

Y/n pushed the oak door open, the hinges creaking. She let out a few coughs as dust invaded her senses, stepping into the cottage. the lanterns were flickered out, pots of plants and flowers left withered and dead.

She walked past a set of bookshelves, running her fingers across the spines of the books.

Wilbur and Y/n sat together, books in each of their hands as they read and relish each other’s company. A kettle of water was being heated in the kitchen, the sun filtering through the windows.

Y/n flipped a page, not noticing as Wilbur’s eyes lifted from the pages to her face, studying every bit of her. A soft smile crossed his face as he studied her soft green eyes, the bridge of her nose, her eyebrows that were furrowed in concentration.

Suddenly her eyes flicked up, Wilbur’s face going red. “What are you looking at?”

“Nothing! Nothing, no, not at all, no, uh—“Wilbur smiled sheepishly. “You’re... you’re just so ethereal right now.”

It was Y/n’s turn to blush as she tried to hide her cheeks behind the book, the boy laughing.

Y/n grasped a rung of the ladder in her hand, sighing for a moment before pulling herself up. Each step up the ladder her heart quickened, her lips trembled.

She climbed into the loft area, her breath catching in her throat.

The bed was still perfectly made from the day she left it. The sunset reflected perfectly into the room from the large glass window, casting the room into a beautiful orange hue. Y/n turned and saw the chest in the corner, the sight bringing her to her knees.

The letters.

“I’ll write you so many letters, Y/n/n!” Wilbur insisted, grasping her hands. “Every day! Until you can join me, we can send those letters.”

Y/n nodded eagerly. “I’ll miss you, Wil.”

The boy pulled her into an embrace, the girl burying her face in his shirt. He smiled, tracing circles into her back comfortingly. “A letter a day for you, until we see each other again.”

And a letter a day she received.

The letters came daily, some recalling the events of the day, some poems, some love letters. Y/n read each letter enthusiastically, hearing of Wilbur’s adventures and the people he encountered. The nation he was creating, L’manburg.

Then, after receiving a letter detailing the start of the war for L’manburg, Y/n packed her bag, took her horse, and left for the server. She fought alongside Wilbur and the others, resisting for independence.

Y/n’s hands trembled as she sifted through and read each letter, the open pieces of parchment cast about the floor in front of her. Her heart ached as she read the words of a man whom she had lost so long ago, so long before his death. The Wilbur that had wrote Y/n songs and poems declaring his love and admiration had died in that war, leaving a man she could hardly recognize.

The orange glow of the sun was fading from the room, darkening the inside of the cottage. Y/n felt tears gather in her eyes as she finished reading the last letter, two teardrops pattering on the wood floor. The letter fluttered from her hand onto the ground with the rest, the girl wiping the tears from her cheeks.

She stood, looking out the window and noting how night was fast approaching. Y/n frowned, reaching into her pocket to produce a box of matches, walking over the the bedside lantern to light it. She struck the match, the flame igniting, lighting the lantern.

Y/n went to shake out the match before freezing, her eyes fixed upon the yellow light of the small flickering flame.

The fire crackled softly as melodic guitar chords filled the night with sweet music. The river rushed by near them, as well as the sounds of the rustling leaves in the wind, creating an orchestra of soothing sounds.

Y/n smiled, closing her eyes and resting her head against Wilbur’s shoulder as he strummed the guitar. They sat on a blanket in front of the fire, one of Wilbur’s coats draped over the girl’s shoulders.

Peace. Both felt total and complete peace.

“I wish we could stay like this forever.” Y/n mused, staring up at the stars.

“Maybe, someday, we will. We’ll just lay and chart constellations.” Wilbur responded confidently.

Y/n smiled, closing her eyes and letting the sounds of Wilbur’s guitar and the campfire lull her to sleep.

“I’d like that.”

The lit match felt heavy between Y/n’s fingers, the girl sitting amongst the countless letters once more. Night had fallen, the stars dotting the sky. Y/n stared out at the stars, catching sight of constellations and clouds and the moon.

She reached for a letter, parting her lips.

“You lied to me.”

Y/n stood once more and let the letter meet the match, the paper going up in flames. She dropped it, the flaming parchment falling to the floor and igniting the rest of the precious letters that could have redeemed Wilbur.

She stepped back, watching as flames set to the wood of the room, the bed, the carpet. The girl spared the room one last look before climbing down the ladder, throwing the match onto the bookshelf, and walking out of the cottage. Y/n walked backwards, watching as surely the cottage was caught in a fury of flames.

Y/n finally let herself breathe, exhaling deeply as if a weight had lifted off her chest. She watched her old home burn, finally feeling a sense of finality.

“You sure did a number on that house.”

Her eyes widened, spinning and quickly unsheathing her sword and raising it to the person behind her’s neck. Y/n’s eyes hardened, glaring at the unwanted visitor.

“What the fuck are you doing here.” She spat.

She could almost see Dream’s smile from under his mask. “Wilbur sure did love his secrets. Was will to impart a few to me in exchange for some TNT. I figured you might be here.”

Y/n furrowed her eyebrows. “He... he told you about the cottage?”

“Y/n... he told me everything.” Dream responded. She slowly lowered her sword, stepping away from Dream. “I understand everything now. Your blind devotion to him, the loyalty. The server that drove him to betray that trust.”

“You did.” Y/n insisted. “You drove him to his death. You caused all of this.”

“Wilbur made his own decisions.” Dream shrugged. “And as I can see now, so can you.”

Y/n turned to look back at the fire. “So, you’re here to kill me then, yeah?”

“No, I’m not.” Dream quickly replied, Y/n looking back at him. “I’m here to make you an offer.”

“An offer? What the hell does that mean?” She scoffed.

Dream approached her. “They’re rebuilding L’Manburg as we speak. They never learn, they never understand. They call Wilbur insane, yet maybe he was the most sane of us all. He saw and understood the truth, and that scared them. So here’s what I offer you, Y/n. Help me take them down. I’ll pay you a good price.”

“What could you pay me that’s worth my time?” Y/n raised her eyebrows, crossing her arms.

Dream reached into his pocket, throwing a few netherite ingots and several diamonds onto the grass in front of her. Y/n’s eyes widened slightly, looking up at him. “There’s so much more where this came from. And better yet,” Dream tilted his head slightly as he held a bundle of fabric to her, the brown shades and patches so very familiar; Wilbur’s coat. “you can finish what Wilbur started.”

Y/n stared wordlessly at the piece of clothing held out in front of her, before closing her eyes.

“Wil?” Y/n wandered over to where Wilbur sat in the darkness of Pogtopia, the girl kneeling down next to him.

“Hey, Y/n/n.” He smiled tightly, sitting forwards. “What’s up?”

The girl smiled sadly. “I don’t know. I just... everything’s all wrong. I don’t know how to fix it.”

The man pondered her words, considering how the events of the next few days would play out. The heartache and betrayal.

It was no secret Wilbur and Y/n had been drifting apart. The lingering trauma of her torturous life in Manburg and the loss of her first two canon lives, him grieving the loss of his country. They were both hanging on by a thread, and comfort was hard to be sought between the two of them.

Wilbur knew he would die soon. He knew that the end of his story was approaching, but maybe, he could have one more sweet memory with the girl he had fallen helplessly in love with.

“Let’s go look at the stars.”

Y/n perked up, her featured contorted in surprise. “What?”

“Like we used to, by the river. Let’s go stargazing.” Wilbur stood, holding out his hand to help her up. The girl took it, the boy pulling her up to standing and intertwining his fingers in hers, pulling her through the ravine.

They trudged up the stone stairs and through the hidden doorway, out into the open air. Wilbur led Y/n into a clearing, where he shrugged off his jacket, laying it on the ground. He beckoned her over, the two laying on top of the fabric and staring up.

The sky was exceptionally clear that night, the stars glittering beautifully against a dark sky. Wilbur turned to watch Y/n stare up at the stars, noting her lips twitch softly as she began to list constellations under her breath. He took her hand once more, looking up at the stars.

That was the last moment they shared together before he died.

Y/n opened her eyes, looking up at Dream, who held out a hand to shake. She sheathed her sword, nodding slightly before taking the jacket and reaching her hand out, clasping his palm in a firm shake.

The man chuckled from behind his mask, stepping backwards. “You’ll be hearing from me. Goodbye, Y/n.” With that he left, the girl left standing alone on the riverbank. She stood still for a beat before bending down, moving the items to her inventory, shrugging on the trench coat, and turning back to the cottage.

It was nearly burnt to the ground at this rate, the flowers outside catching. Y/n swore for a moment she could see a glimpse of a tall boy in a yellow sweater in the flames, but brushed it off. She made the trek over to her horse, climbing onto the saddle.

She cast one more look at the remains of the cottage before cracking the reins, riding away.

It was time to finish what Wilbur had started.

a/n: i wrote this before the philza lore where wilbur fabricated history in the letters, so just assume that wilbur was truthful in these letters and y/n arrived directly before the duel and the betrayal.

[yuriko-mukami]

📝

📝

📝

More Memories

📝- A memory of them getting to know/meeting my muse

(( I literally wrote this from their first meeting but this time I tried mostly to tap into Yuriko’s thought process during it since we both know what happened. I kind of wanted to open up more about what went through her mind back then. I hope this works for you.

And oh my! I can’t even tell you how grateful I’m because of this ask! I loved writing this, even though I’m not sure if the text makes any sense since it’s mostly just Yuriko’s flowing thoughts… but somehow going back to that moment made me feel very nostalgic. Ahhhhhhh!

Yuriko was drawing circles to her notes when she suddenly felt like someone was staring at her. She straightened up, turning her head slightly and gazing at the desk behind her through her bangs. Steel-blue eyes pierced hers as a confident smirk climbed on the lips she instantly noticed. Blinking, she turned back, this time staring at the teacher but her thoughts went whirling, pushing the topic of the ongoing class away from her mind.

This library is huge but I just had to come here for the first thing, the classes won’t start yet and well… It’s not like I’m going to make friends anytime soon. Maybe it’s even better if I stay out of everyone’s way. 

Oh, but so many books! And I truly love this atmosphere! The night school is a bit of trouble… Oh my… I’m actually very tired right now. How on earth I’m supposed to keep my eyes open during classes through the night? I mean… If I was reading an interesting book, it wouldn’t be a problem but… eh… homeroom, English classes, math… But I need to pull through everything, I just have to! I can’t fail now…

Where should I start? I don’t have that much time so… maybe I check that back corner first, it looks like there are the most interesting books… Hmmm… Why is it so dim here? Oh, but… Yes, I was correct. These books are truly something. My earlier school didn’t even have these titles! At least that is a good thing… Maybe I can enjoy this school year. I can read these in between schoolwork, no need to distract myself with other matters. Dad will be happy if I only study and read… No trouble this time and no skipping classes. I’m going to succeed…

"Ou-ouch!"

What did just happen? I hit on something... Eh? A person... Such stern and cold eyes... full of... despise?

“Oh my gosh! I… I’m so sorry…”

Oh no… Oh no… Oh no… He looks so angry. I’m going to… Ehhh… my cheeks are burning! Not now! This is bad. Why do I always do something stupid like this?

“Can you not pay attention? What clumsy livestock you are… And you call that a proper apology? I should teach you manners.”

What? How rude he can be? Did he really call me livestock? Nobody uses that kind of language when they speak to others… and I apologized. Why is he so mad at me? Why is the first person I meet in this school such an annoying and scary young man? He is the one who needs to learn some manners!

“What are you even doing in this section? Shouldn’t an average woman like you look for a book in the fairy tale section? These books here are definitely too demanding for you.”

“Umh…” He… I can’t believe it… “I am very sorry… I… I… should have watched… erm… where I was going. But… it isn’t truly your business… what I’m doing here…”

I'm flaring up… So embarrassing! I must leave now! NOW! Immediately!

Why aren’t my legs moving? He is getting closer!

Oh my…! Why is he grinning like that? I must… take a step back. Please, stop! Don’t come so near me!

Ouch! Gosh, I forgot that there was a bookshelf behind me. I… I… now I can’t even go anywhere and he is…

“Please excuse me, Livestock. I am sorry. But I could not understand you. For some reason, you seem to lose your voice. Could you please repeat what you said? I just want to make sure you really said it is none of my business.”

My heart can’t take this! My first night here and I have already drawn the wrong kind of attention. Oh gosh, his eyes! Those eyes… they are so… like ice… I… I… I…

“What is it?”

What is he doing, grabbing my chin like that!?!? HIS FINGERS ARE SO COLD! Why can’t I stop to stare at his eyes? This is bad, so bad…!

“You are not afraid of me, are you?”

I TOTALLY AM! WHAT IS WRONG WITH HIM? Why does he treat me like this! He has no right! 

Eh? Was that the bell?

“See you, Livestock.”

He… just… left….

Right…? The bell! I must go too! Gosh, this is terrible! I hope I won’t run into him anymore…

A sudden sound made Yuriko snap out of her thoughts. The bell!

The last class had just ended. She started to collect her things hastily, memories still floating through her mind. So many things had changed after the steel-blue eyes had pierced her for the first time. Judging by how they have met, it was so hard to believe where they had ended up. 

“Let us go, Yuriko,” the soft voice said as a hand picked up her school bag. When she rose from her chair, cool fingers entwined with hers, and Ruki pulled her with him. 

(( I guess this is a good time to mention (just in case someone else is reading this) that Rukiko story is separate from Yuriko’s canon story. That’s why this first meeting is different from what happened in her Dark. I haven’t written Ruki’s lines in this scene because I took them from an RP @ask-ruki-mukami and Yuriko have going on in private, so all credit for those goes to Ruki’s admin.

[aperrywilliams]

When The World Breaks You (Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader)

(Not my gif!)

Masterlist

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Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader.

Summary: Reader makes a mistake during a case that triggers a lot of thoughts about a series of stressful events in her recent life. Spencer Reid turns out to be one of them.

Word Count: 6538.

Warnings: Mention to stressful events in relationships. Mention to possible alcohol abuse. Unprotected sex. A lot of curses. Angst. Smut. I promise it’s an ‘optimistic’ end.

A/N: For the Secret Fic Swap. An excellent idea from @dontkissthewriter and organized by @imagining-in-the-margins​.

This fic was written for @safertokiss​. Thanks for reading. Feedback is welcomed!

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We all make mistakes in life. It’s written somewhere. They tell you that since childhood. Everybody knows. But when you have to experience it, things are different: it seems nobody remembers and they throw it in your face every time they can. To err is human. Have they already forgotten it?

It’s true, there are situations where a mistake can be much more costly than others. In this line of work it turns out to be so. One misstep could result in the death of innocent people. In my case it was not like that... but it could have been. Hotch's face of disappointment when he looked at me could have killed me down in the same spot, after he himself shot down the unsub almost by the work and grace of the Holy Spirit. I was wrong. I tried myself to save a little girl from the hands of a psychopath using the most reckless strategy that occurred to me at the time. The girl might have died if Hotch didn’t appeared in the right moment.

It wasn't many minutes before my own teammates started to reproach my recklessness.

"How can you did that (Y/N)? You could have had that girl killed!" shouted Emily.

"You should have waited for reinforcements (Y/N). It was obvious you couldn't handle the unsub" Morgan barked.

"(Y/N), lucky you Hotch showed up at that moment..." JJ hissed.

"Your youthful impetus almost got the worst, (Y/N)..." Rossi mused.

"Tomorrow, first hour of the day, I want your report in my desk (Y/N), and we’ll talk about what happened today" was the last sentence of Hotch.

The only one who didn't say anything was Reid. Although his look of frustration was only comparable to Hotch's. Bent on continuing to torture myself, I walked over to where Spencer was, almost forcing him to speak to me.

“I still haven't heard any ‘comments’ from you about what happened in there. Everyone has already given me their opinion". I snapped with a challenging tone. It was the only thing left for me if I didn't want to cry right there. Reid looked at me but said nothing. “Ah, your punishment for me is the silence. Very original Reid, very original”. I left the place by getting into one of the SUV that would take us back to the jet.

The trip back home was silent. I self-relegated in one of the furthest seats. I looked out the window as the jet's wings touched the clouds. I could feel some compassionate glances from my teammates, but I never made eye contact with them. Nor when we get to the bullpen to collect our things. Nor when I quickly got on the elevator to avoid having to share it with anyone.

When I got to my apartment I just wanted to lie down in my bed. Before reaching my mission, all I did was take off my shoes. I fell slumped on the mattress. Only then did I allow myself to cry. In the solitude of my own place. Place not long ago I shared with another person. Person who decided my job was too demanding and didn’t want to pay the price for my absence. Person who was quickly disappointed in me despite having promised his eternal love in front a civil judge in our wedding. Person I believed loved me unconditionally. To be fair, I forgot that too. My love didn't turn out to be unconditional either.

Love is not unconditional. This is a learning for life my dear friends.

As Hotch requested, I was in his office first hour in the morning with my report from the day before. As he read it, I was standing in front of him with my hands crossed on my stomach and staring blankly at the bookshelf behind Hotch's desk.

"So you agree that it was a reckless decision..." Hotch recited.

"Yes sir. It was. Although the purpose was to save the life of an innocent…”. Hotch interrupted my speech.

“(Y/N), indeed that is the goal of this work, but there are rules too. And if you can't follow the rules, you can't do this job either. I hope you understand that” he stated.

"Yes sir…" was my reply.

“Due to the scope of this case, I cannot leave you without some sanction for your conduct. That is why you’ll be suspended for 2 weeks without payment. I need your badge and your gun”.

I was not surprised by the measure. Although I had a secret hope it would only be a reprimand from Hotch. Hopes are shit. I handed over my gun and my badge. I was about to leave the office when Hotch spoke again.

"(Y/N). I understand you have been through a lot in these months, please try to take these days to rest and clear your head” he suggested.

"Yes sir".

Why was I going to argue with him about it? Was it worth telling him that not even a one-month suspension could be enough to me for clear my head?

I went downstairs to my desk. Again without making eye contact with my co-workers. I grabbed my jacket and purse and walked out of the bullpen into the elevator. Before the doors were closed I heard my name.

"(Y/N), wait!". Reid with one of his arms stopped the door and got on the elevator. I looked at him without saying anything. "Where are you going?".

"I think you know where... and why too". I replied now looking at the elevator floor.

"How long?" He asked.

"Two weeks" I replied dryly.

"Oh, I'm sorry". Reid lamented.

"Don’t be sorry. At least I still have my job. For now…”. I assured with a shrug, barely making eye contact with him.

"Do you need something?..." he offered.

“Don't worry about me Reid. I'll be fine". The elevator had reached the subway, opening its doors. I went out and gave him a little warm smile. He did the same. Then the doors closed with him inside. I started walking to the car to get back to my apartment.

It was strange being in my apartment so early. I’m usually one of those who leaves the BAU almost at dusk. At least that's what I had been doing for the last 4 months, after my divorce. Now I was sitting on my couch thinking about what to do in the next two weeks. No idea came to my head. I knew it would be a long two weeks.

The next day I started doing a deep cleaning of the place. It’s not my apartment has been neglected in these months, but there were many things from "my old life" I still had. I started going through boxes with my ex-husband's things: there were clothes, sporting goods he didn’t take with him, books. I also found photographs. The vast common of them I tore up and throwed into a trash can, however, I stopped at my wedding photos. Smiles were everywhere. Many of the photographs with both of us at the altar, others dancing. There was a photo of us with the BAU team at the party. Memories of that moment quickly came to my mind. Precisely after taking that photograph in particular.

After the photographer captured the moment, my husband gave me a sweet peck on my lips and told me he would go and talk with his family a while. I nodded, meanwhile the BAU girls surrounded me laughing next to me and hugging me for the umpteenth time, happy for me.

I could see Spencer walking away towards one of the corners of the garden. I had seen him act strange a few days ago. But particularly on my wedding day we had hardly spoken a word. Which was strange. Spencer was my best friend, my "partner in crime". That's how it had been since I came to the BAU 4 years ago. Taking advantage of the fact I had a moment of freedom, I approached him. He was sitting on one of the benches in the garden. I sat next to him smiling. He looked at me and gave me a smile too.

"Hey... why are you alone around here?" I asked taking his hand.

"I'm enjoying the fresh air and there is less noise here," he replied.

“I know you are not a friend of loud music. I understand you and I share that. I just must say today has been a roller coaster of things. I'm exhausted”. I confessed but I received no reply.

"Spencer?". He looked at me as if trying to tell me something without words. "What is it? Can you tell me...". After a silence that started to become uncomfortable, he resolved to speak.

"You really love him..." he said. I frowned. I didn't know exactly what he meant.

"Well... if I married him it must be for that, right?". I tried to joke to lighten the mood. But Spencer didn't laugh.

“(Y/N), I’m sorry. I think I should go…”. He got up from the bench and was going to leave me there with more questions than answers.

"Spencer, wait!... you can't leave like this. Please tell me what's wrong..." I pleaded.

Forcing Spencer to speak at that point must have been one of my biggest mistakes in a long time. How often does your best friend confess he has been in love with you for years on your wedding day?

Only in the movies. The difference is that in the movies the bride runs off with the lover, leaving the groom behind and living happily ever after. It was not my case. Spencer was the one who ran off, alone… while I stood on the bench with tears rolling down my cheeks, a confession and millions of doubts that beginning to fill my mind.

Of course I was in love with my husband. Perhaps a somewhat childish love, but we had known each other for so many years that it was difficult for me to imagine myself otherwise than being married to him, having children, a house and a dog. That was my dream since I was 16 years old.

But things change. My life also changed. I studied Forensic Psychology and fell so in love with my major that I wanted to join the FBI to put what I had learned into real practice. This is how I came to the BAU afterwards. A whole world opened before my eyes. I faced the best and the worst of the world. My innocence faded over time. I was much more aware of what was happening around me. And I was happy with that.

I fell in love with my job too. I also bonded with my co-workers. I started spending more time with Emily, JJ and Penelope both on and off work. But what changed me the most was making friends with Spencer Reid. When we met, the first thing I noticed was his shyness. It seemed adorable to me. As we got to know each other I understood many things about his character, just as he understood many things about me as well.

The jet trips, the talks at the local police stations, the theories about the unsubs were made much more bearable thanks to Spencer. At some point I asked myself if our friendship could be something more. I didn't think it was possible. But the doubts came all the times I had a strong argument with my boyfriend. Arguments that sometimes ended with me leaving the apartment we shared and crashing into Spencer's place crying on his shoulder.

I remembered one of those times. It was a strong discussion. Triggered by my prolonged absence thanks to the cases that kept us traveling all over the country. Like the previous times I ended up in Reid's apartment drowning my sorrows in his chest.

"(Y/N)… can I ask you a question?" I just nodded, still sobbing. "Are you sure you love him?... I mean… maybe I said it wrong... I don't have doubts you love him, but do you think this relationship is working for you?..."

“It has worked so far. It's true… we have our ups and downs, but… I don't know… it's just I wish he could understand what my life is really like…"

"And if he doesn't?... how many more chances will you give him (Y/N)?... don't hurt yourself more, please...".

My memory recalls the way he looked at me. At first I thought it was compassion. ‘Poor woman, in love with a man who doesn't understand her.’ But then I thought I saw something else. A plea? I didn't really know what it was.

Without thinking, I let myself be carried away and wrapped my arms around his neck, crashing my lips on his. A simple impulse that ended with me and Reid making out on his couch. And boy I did enjoy it!. And I'm sure he did too. But we were both cowardly enough to admit it.

After that things were strange between us. Until one day I faced him. I needed to know what his true feelings were. The bastard denied it. He said he only wanted me as a friend, that I deserved to be happy with my boyfriend and that ours was just a good friendship.

I let it go. We returned to our dynamic of good friends. Things seemed to take their normal course. My boyfriend proposed to me, the fights between us disappeared. Thus faded the nights when I came crying to Spencer's apartment. I was feeling happy. Excited. Until that moment in my wedding party, in the garden, when Spencer left me with his confession stabbing my chest.

I didn't want to think about that. I had given him a chance to open up earlier. And he didn’t do it. Spencer fucking Reid kept the silent. And I didn't say anything either. Maybe if I had given him a sign. But it was too late. I had to get on with my life. And that's what I did.

A year of happiness. That was how long my marriage lasted. And not because I haven't tried. I really tried. But Reid was right. Sooner or later the opportunities would no longer be enough. Promises weren't sufficient to keep alive the illusion of life as I had dreamed of as a teenager.

*************

I was worried. It had been 4 days since (Y/N) was suspended and no one had heard from her. I asked Prentiss and she only told me she texted her to know how she was doing and (Y/N) replied with a dry ‘fine’.

Besides being worried, I was upset. No one on the team had bothered to visit (Y/N). Months ago it would have been my mission, but given the circumstances maybe it wasn't a good idea. I was annoyed by the idea she was struggling alone with this situation. It was not fair. None of this was fair.

That she couldn't be happy wasn't fair. And that we couldn't be together was my fault. My silence. I lied when I could have told the truth. There is not a day I don’t regret that.

My second mistake was speaking at the wrong time. I couldn't bear it and in a moment of weakness I confessed my feelings to (Y/N). And it was selfish, I know. A chain of bad decisions I tried to bury over time.

And it seemed time was working. She was happy with her husband, or so I thought. While we tried to return to our friendship routine. Perhaps that is another of the biggest lies in the universe: ours would never be the same. Ours will never be the same again. I didn't find out things were going wrong in her marriage until it was all broken. I could notice some things about her behavior, but she was never going to tell me anything about that part of her life, ever again.

On the sixth day of her suspension, my worry began to overwhelm me. This time I wasn’t the only one who was concerned. Emily and JJ tried to contact (Y/N) but she just didn't answer the phone. Even Hotch had left messages on her voicemail to check her status. None had an answer.

I couldn't sit idly by. What if something had happened to her? Sure she wouldn't want to talk to me, but at least I needed to know she was okay. That afternoon I left the BAU heading to her apartment. Upon arrival, I knocked on the door twice. But I got no answer. Maybe she had gone out to buy something. Or maybe something had happened to her and she couldn't open the door. I hesitated what to do for a while. I paced outside her door until anxiety got the better of me. I still had the spare key to her apartment. I knew it wasn't appropriate, but my concern won. I opened the door and launched to inspect the place.

She was not in the apartment. The place was a bit messy, but it wasn't a mess itself. I found many boxes in the living room, some half packed. They didn't seem to be her things, which partly reassured me. For a second I thought she was moving somewhere else. What made me uneasy was seeing several empty liquor bottles on the kitchen counter. That gave me an idea of where she might be at that specific moment.

I quickly reached (Y/N)'s favorite bar scanning through the crowd until I saw her near the bar counter with a group of men surrounding her. I stepped closer and crossed the circle of testosterone that shrouded (Y/N). Seeing me, she raised up her arms to signal my arrival.

“And here is my favorite genius! Dr. Spencer Reid!" (Y/N) chimed obviously drunk. When I managed to get to her side, she threw her arms over me, almost falling from the tabouret where she was sitting next to the bar. I hold her with my arms, restoring some balance to her. As I spoke to the group of predators still looking at (Y/N).

"Well. The show ended here. You can go to the other side of the bar”. I announced to the marauders who, puffing, broke the circle around (Y/N) dispersing.

“You are a killjoy Reid. You always have been”. Despite her condition she knew exactly how to hit me with her words.

"Let's go. I'll take you home" I stated.

When we left the bar, she stopped and didn't want to keep walking.

"Reid... really, what are you doing here?" she asked.

"I came to look for you…" I mumbled.

"You didn't have to... I'm fine, don't you see me? Won-der-ful…" she tried to joke.

"(Y/N)... you're drunk... let me take you home" I insisted.

"Noooo, I don't want to. I'm fine here. Let me…"

"Please come with me". I demanded and grabbed her forearm.

"I don't want to be hurt any more Spencer... leave me alone" she complained.

"I know. But let me help you…"

"You cannot. Nobody can help me. Everyone abandons me and it's my fault...". (Y/N) tried to left my grip.

"Don’t say that. It's not your fault". I hugged her and she stopped struggling but started sobbing into my chest.

We held each other for a moment. The sobs gave way to hiccups. When (Y/N) was calmer, I managed to get her into the car. I drove to her apartment. When I stopped the car, I noticed she had fallen asleep with her head resting on the car window. Carefully, I opened the passenger door and took her in my arms, bridal style. She only let out a groan, but not fully awake. I went upstairs with her to the floor of her apartment, took out the key, opened the door and we went inside.

As gently as I could, I laid her on the bed. I took off her shoes and tucked her with the duvet. Again I heard her sobs.

"Why did it have to be like this?..." she muttered. I didn't know what to answer her.

"It's my fault. I end up ruining everything. I always make mistakes that end up ruining everything…” she cried. I knew it wasn't a good time to talk, but (Y/N) needed to be able to at least sleep in peace.

"No, don’t say that. You better sleep now. Tomorrow we can talk about this".

"You will stay with me?" she asked in a barely audible voice.

"Only if you want me to stay..."

"Please…" she begged.

I took off my shoes and cuddled next to her under the duvet. I wrapped my arms around her body and after a few minutes I felt her breathing much quieter, a sign that she had fallen asleep.

When I woke up next morning, (Y/N) was still sleeping. I knew she would be in that condition for at least a couple of hours, when the light in the room will wake up her and make her feel the hangover in her body. I gently got up and went to the living room. I wondered if it was really wise to stay until she woke up or maybe I should just leave her and go home. I wanted to be able to talk to her, but I wasn't sure if it would be the best time. I laughed at myself after that thought. Is there a better time for us at anything? That didn't exist in our books.

I made myself a coffee and grabbed some of the books from her shelf. I struggled with the urge to explore the things that were inside the boxes scattered around the room. I sat down on the couch and started reading.

A few hours later I heard (Y/N) walking out of the bedroom and into the bathroom, turning on the shower faucets. I got up from the couch and started making coffee again. She was going to need it. I also started making some toast. After a while she came out of the bathroom straight into the bedroom again. A few more minutes passed and she peeked into the kitchen where I was finishing buttering the toast.

"You didn't need to make breakfast..." she remarked, making her presence known. I raised my head to look at her.

"At least you need the coffee..." I suggested as I handed her the mug of coffee.

"It’s true. Thank you". She sat down and after a sip put the coffee on the table.

"How do you feel?"

"The shower helped... but the hangover won't leave me for a good couple of hours," she complained. I put the plate of toast on the table and sat across from her with my own coffee. We fell silent as we drank our coffee and ate our toasts.

When there was no more coffee or toast left, (Y/N) started talking.

"I wanted to apologize for my behavior last night." She mused.

"You don’t have to apologize…". I shook my head.

"Yes. I need to. Although I don't know how you knew I was there, you brought me back safely. Thank you". Her eyes felt into the empty mug.

“It was not a bother to me. I was worried about you (Y/N). In fact, I'm worried about you,” I confessed, looking again at the empty liquor bottles on the kitchen counter. She followed my line of sight and knew exactly what I meant.

“I'm fine Reid… so don't worry. I have accumulated them in all these days. It's not so big deal either" she bragged.

“I don't think you're okay (Y/N). You've avoided calls and messages from the whole team these days…". I stated.

“I just wanted to be peaceful, Reid. As you can see, I’m trying to 'clean up' my life,” (Y/N) assured as she pointed to the boxes scattered around the room.

"You don't have to do that alone..." I implied trying to get into the matter.

"Reid, please… don’t do this. You know I can't let you do this…” she mumbled.

"Why not? Please (Y/N)... why do you want to keep pushing people away from you?".

“Not all people. Only you". Her overabundance of sincerity didn’t surprise me, but at that moment it left me speechless. "Sorry to say it like that, but you can't pretend things are the way they were at the beginning." She was right, but I wasn't ready to lose this fight.

"Will you never forgive me for telling you about my feelings that night at your wedding?" I shouted running one of my hands through my hair.

"Not that. I’ll never forgive you for keeping silent when I asked you what you felt before!" she yelled at me back.

"(Y/N)... I was scared...". I tried to explain.

“I was scared too Reid!... but I had hopes. The hopes you killed at that time," she grumbled taking her head with both hands.

"Do you think it was easy for me?"

"I don’t care. If you had told me maybe I would have cared. I'm not a fucking fortune teller Reid!" She got up from her chair and began pacing the room. We were getting back into this discussion, again.

"I just… I never thought you would do it..." I said defeated.

"What? Get married?... why shouldn't I?". She asked in exasperation.

"Because you didn't love him!!!" I screamed.

"How do you know that? Damn it Reid!"

"Because if you really loved him, you would never have come to my apartment every time you both had an argument! That was never love (Y/N)! It was your dream, but it was never real!"

"What do you know about love?, ah?... are you really going to give me a lecture on something you have no idea? You weren't even able to face me when you made your big reveal. That's not love either Reid"

"Watch your words (Y/N), you have no idea what you're talking about" I warned her.

"Oh no? Enlighten me genius"

I got up quickly from the chair. I took one of her wrists and pulled it towards me. I cupped her cheeks with both hands and bumped my lips to hers. (Y/N) tried to pull away from me for a second, but then she melted into the kiss just like I did at the time. If words weren't enough, I hoped that kiss could help me ‘tell’ her everything I was feeling. When we both run out of air, we pulled away.

“If you didn't always have the compulsion of saying the last word, maybe I would have shown you earlier. But no! Always contradicting (Y/N)! " I muttered panting.

“What the fuck Reid?. Do you think a kiss is enough to silence me?". She pulled away trying to catch her breath and not knowing whether to keep yelling at me or to leave the room.

"No, not with a kiss. I know. Of course it is not enough with you (Y/N). I think I’m just starting with you".

“Where does this dominance come from? Eh Reid? What are you trying to prove?" she asked me defiantly.

"Just shut up (Y/N)... and stop calling me Reid". I protested. How difficult is for this woman to give up in a fight, for God sake!

"Make me... Reid". She challenged me back.

The tension built up over the years seemed to have exploded at that moment. I took her wrists again to attract her to my body, with one of my hands I took her hair and yanked it back to make her look at me.

"Stop it (Y/N). You don't want me to make you" I managed to mutter before collapsing my lips with hers again. This time the kiss was more passionate and extensive. I couldn't keep my hands still, while with one I was still yanking (Y/N)’s hair, the other started to down her back by entangling my fingers in the edge of her shirt. As I put my fingers under the shirt to touch her bare back, I felt a moan from (Y/N). That encouraged me to continue. Releasing my other hand from her hair, I grabbed the other end of her shirt, pulling it, take it off her body and throwing it to the floor. My lips began to search for the sweet spot on her neck that I knew existed and always wanted to explore. When I found it, another groan came from (Y/N)'s mouth. Those moans quickly turned me on. With my hands traveling down her nearly bare back, I paused on the clasp of her bra, pulling it apart and letting it fall to the floor. An exciting sigh left my mouth when I could see her naked half.

(Y/N) looked at me expectantly. Her eyes inviting me to continue, but I started to worry that no words come out of her mouth.

"Is something wrong?... do you want me to stop?"

"What are we doing Spencer...?" she said panting.

“What I think we should have done so long ago. And because of me we couldn't. But if you don't want to, I'll stop”. I assured her as I stroked her cheeks with my knuckles.

"Shit Spencer... I don't want to die without you fucking me once in life at least...". With that she threw herself into my arms and started to unbutton my dress shirt.

"God (Y/N)... you don’t how much I want you." I whispered to her as I dropped my dress shirt to the floor and my hands searched for her bare breasts. My lips and tongue tracing paths on her collarbone. Her arms were around my neck gripping tightly.

“Show me, you fucking coward! Prove you mean it!” she told.

“This time you don’t have to tell me twice…”.

I took her in my arms and carried her into the bedroom, laying her on the mattress, while I undid the clasp on my belt and unbuttoned my pants, letting them fall to the floor. She slipped her sweatpants, exposing her body only in her lace. I laid down next to her, tracing eager paths in her bare skin with my fingers.

"You are so fucking beautiful (Y/N)... you drive me crazy...". I blurted, peppering kisses and sucking one of her nipples. (Y/N) stroked my hair as I keep my mouth attached into her breasts. My hands went down her waist and stopped in her thighs for a while. Then my fingers traveled anxiously across her belly, her hips, and her ass. I looked at her with fire in the eyes and could see how (Y/N) was breathing heavily holding her eyes on me as I slide her panties off, one leg at a time. I put one of her legs over my shoulder and buried my mouth between her legs, nibbling on the skin while I was holding her hip with both hands. (Y/N) couldn't help but arch her back, letting out a deep whine.

"Oh fuck Spencer... shit… please…" she moan not expecting to be coherent in her words. I was decided to go further, so my hands started to slide into her inner thighs. I wanted to explore the depths of her core. Not so gently I put one of my fingers inside her. The moisture I found did nothing but arouse me more. The contact sure caused more stimulation on her and she started to move and buck to feel more depth and friction.

"Please... Spencer... if we are going to do this, I need more...". Her words made me put a second finger. She shuddered on contact again. I couldn't help but bite my lower lip as I looked (Y/N)'s eyes stiff at the sensation running through her body. At the movement of my fingers inside her, (Y/N) was unable to control her own, seeking to deepen the feeling by riding hard on them. I lowering my tongue until reached her folds. I slipped my tongue to catch some of her moisture mixed with my own saliva. A stifled moan from me made (Y/N) tremble at the vibration of my voice running through her body. I put a third finger inside her while my tongue focused on her clit, licking and sucking the exposed nerve.

(Y/N) let out almost a cry bursting with pleasure. I speed up the actions of my fingers and my tongue and I could feel (Y/N) shiver under my touch. I heard her moaning louder as she held on to my hair. I knew she was close to her release because her body trembled at every thrusting of my fingers and slapping of my tongue.

"Oh fuck... I can't... Spencer... please... don't stop... I'm going to cum..." she said frenzy as her nails scratched my shoulders.

"Do it love, cum in my fingers... do it... let me feel how you undone beneath me…" I gasped trying to help her to find her release, while the thrusts of my fingers became more frantic than ever.

"Fuck... Spencer... uhhh, shit!" It was the last she could say before falling hard at her ecstasy. She was trembling completely with her eyes lost on the ceiling. When the spasms stopped, I pulled my fingers out, tasting her arousal in my mouth and looking at her. Her messy hair, the sweat running down her forehead and her eyes full of pleasure. It couldn't have been more pleasing for me.

“I think you need a reward for this so… come here. I need you to fuck me with your cock right now… please…”. (Y/N) demanded still panting.

I just chuckled meanwhile I slipped off my boxers and then placed my hips between her legs lining up my cock at her entrance. My slow entry produced a unison groan in both of us.

"Oh fuck (Y/N)... you're so tight for me..." was the only thing I said before (Y/N) raised her hips without warning to feel me fully in her. A roar tore from my mouth as I grabbed her hips to start moving inside her. The thrusts started slow but intense, accompanied by gasps and sweat. I increased the speed of my thrusts in the next minutes. The desire to feel each other had reached a point of no return for both. The moans mingled with the vocalization of our names only increased arousal in us. I could feel her walls tighten with friction and it drove me madder and louder. She was very close to losing herself in ecstasy. Her body began to tremble, which made me hasten my pace. I put one of my fingers over her clit and traced circular movements on it. The (Y/N)’s moans increased in time and noise.

"Fuck Spencer... Oh yeah, right there. More please… Spencer, harder…”. She exclaimed in ecstasy.

"(Y/N), you feel so good with my cock inside you. Do you like it?, tell me… I want to hear you… use your words…”. I needed to hear her voice.

"Harder Spencer. You are fucking me so good. Please don't stop… I love you. I wanted this so badly… so time ago…”

“This time I'm not going to let you go. Tell me, did he touch you like this?... He kissed you like this?... He fucked you like this?"

"Shit… Spencer, it’s not the time to compare yourself to my ex…" (Y/N) moaned.

“I just want you to realize that I’m better than him. That I have more right to have you than he and any other man. That I’m the only man who could love you like you deserves (Y/N)…"

With those words I could feel how the orgasm hit (Y/N) like a train. She screamed my name one last time before getting lost in her heights. I kept my thrusts knowing I was close. Feeling her walls tighten around my cock was enough for a couple more thrusts and reach my own release. And it was better than I had imagined every time I thought about (Y/N) and what sex with her would be like. God! I could stay like this forever.

Even with our shaky breaths and still inside her I looked (Y/N) directly in the eyes. I needed to know her reaction. I just hoped I didn't find regret in her gaze. That would have been death for me.

She looked at me with a glint in her eyes that I couldn't decipher. Tears? I was terrified. I didn't want to lose (Y/N) again.

"Shit Spencer... where did you learn to fuck like that?" she blurt suddenly. We both started laughing. I assumed it was a rhetorical question, so I only answered with a deep kiss on her lips as I got out of bed in the direction to the bathroom.

I came back with a damp towel to clean up the remains of our recent activities. (Y/N) didn't take her eyes off me but she didn't say a word either. I put the towel on the nightstand and sat on the bed with my back on the backrest.

"Okay, what are you thinking now?" I asked. (Y/N) smiled because she knew exactly that I was going to ask her that question.

“It's just… I find it hard to believe that you really love me. I mean, so much has happened in this time… don't you even have a little doubt going around in your head about this?" she questioned giving me a shy look.

"Not anymore. I had doubts for so long (Y/N), that's why I wasn't able to do anything about it. But I can assure you that there are no more doubts. I love you and I know you love me too. Nonetheless I'm willing to wait for whatever it takes until you're ready. But I’ll never be silent about my feelings for you again. That I can assure you. I promise”. I replied taking her hand and squeezing it gently.

"I'm still broken Spencer...". She remind me pressing her lips together and trying to hold back a sob

“(Y/N). I know and I take full responsibility for that too. But now I don´t care all our past mistakes. I don’t care the past itself. I don’t care if you’re broken now. I want to fix this. I want you. I want to make up to you. I want to make you happy. No matter how long it takes me to accomplish that. I’ll stay by your side. I’ll hold you when you need it, I want to be there when the world breaks you. I’ll fight and support you every time that happens…"

Tears began to roll down her cheeks. (Y/N) hugged me tight and buried her head on my chest. Then she raised her gaze to look at me and speak.

"Love is not unconditional Spencer... you know that…" she murmured.

"Not by default my love, but we can build it to make it work for us.". She smiled at my words and after giving me an intense kiss she spoke again.

“I hope you’re right. I know we can try to make it work. I love you Spencer”.

“I love you too (Y/N). We are going to make it. I promise".

———————

[writers-block-is-now-a-person]

Even Truth Lies in The Thicket

Chapter 1 | 

My name is Harper, but can’t tell you that. In fact, I’m not allowed to tell anyone anything. And there are many reasons why I can’t tell you many things, but I’m not allowed to say those things either. I’m not allowed to say a lot oft things. And I hate it. 

But anyway, I am Harper, and I can’t tell you anything else.

Except that I was kidnapped as a child.

Fingers snapped in front of me, shaking me out of my trance. Lord Bryn glared at me, his dark eyes furious as he walked past. I swallowed the sudden fear and lifted the instrument in my arms. Resting the bow on the strings, I waited for his permission to play. His silence was irritating, I waited as he settled himself on his chair, flicking out his robe and slowly lifting his goblet to his mouth. He flicked his pupil-less eyes at me. I started to play.

I moved my arms and fingers, creating a melody only known to me. This is why they stole me, for their own petty entertainment.

My arms moved on impulse, creating melodies and harmonies from nothing but the emptiness of myself. They liked my music, it didn’t matter to me how it sounded, as long as they liked it, I was safe.

My fingers began to hurt, I played slower. Longer notes with clearer sounds. My arms started to ache, sore from playing for so long. I breathed in evenly and kept playing. I was not allowed to stop until I was told.

The room around me was perfect, glowing in the light of early dusk. The walls painted in lavender, the vaulted ceiling thick with wisteria vines, the purple flowers filling the room. The floor was shining white marble, almost pure moonlight. 

They sat on low velvet couches. Picking at fat fruits and honeyed drinks. Their fingers slender and soft, their skin perfect. Lord Bryn laughed politely as his wife handed him a pomegranate, he bit into the bloody fruit.

They looked perfect, lounging and laughing in the dusking sun. There were seven of them, draped in silks and jewels that glowed in any light. Their faces painted with glitter and powder. However beautiful and stunning they appeared, they looked like monsters to me.

Fae are odd creatures, Seelie Fae are odder. They appear human, almost human. If you look at them longer, they do not seem human. Their eyes are bigger, with richer colours. Their skin is perfect, not blotchy like humans. The hold themselves in such a way that makes you feel inferior, for we are to them. Their smiles are not human either, the Fae have odd smiles.

I held the note I was playing, drawing it out for as long as I could. I lowered my instrument when I was finished. Waiting for their approval.

Lord Bryn looked at me, pale eyes blank. He nodded slowly. His wife smiled and softly clapped her hands. The others joined.

One fae leaned into Lord Bryn. “The mortal is good for their age, I’ve heard some horrendous melodies from ones twice their age.”

Lord Bryn said nothing, his wife, Lady Elowyn, answered instead. “They have a marvellous talent, they always know what to play.”

Lord Bryn seemed satisfied with me, he waved me out. I bowed deeply and left the room.

I went down the servant passageways, not daring to step into the main rooms of the house. Other servants stepped out of my way, some smiled at me. I was above them in the servant hierarchy, the Lord and Lady that owned us liked me the most, mainly for my musical talent. In the narrow passageways, we were all servants. But they were still fae, and I was still human, so no matter how equal I thought we were, they loathed every inch of me.

It wasn’t long until I had entered my room. The servants entrance to my rooms came through the bookshelf, I liked entering my rooms that way. It was like my own secret entrance to my personal space. 

There was no proper door to my main room, just an open archway that led to the main hall of the house. My main room was circular, with robins egg blue painted walls and the white marble floors. The dark woodwork of the bookshelves carved to mimic ivy covered trees. In each alcove of the bookshelves are my many instruments.

I placed the instrument in my hands gently on its pedestal, it sat there waiting for me to play it again. The rest of my instruments sat on their altars, waiting to be played. Some were metal that made bright sounds, most were wood and strings that sang like bird song. Few made deep sounds, I could create scenes of fog and forest with those. 

I looked around at my collection. All of the instruments were gifts, praises for my good work and hopes I could create more. As much as I loved playing them, creating melodies from far away, I loathed the sight of them. All of the instruments were memories of why I was caged here, proof that not all chains are metal.

The arches of the main door were similar to the arched window frames. The sun was halfway down the horizon, I only had a few minutes until I was needed again. Thankfully, there was a real door to my private chambers, the brass handle was the only comfort to me that I could create some privacy.

The Lady of the house, and my owner, favoured me in her own ways. Lady Elowyn let me decorate my room which ever way I wanted, which is why the deep grey of my walls were a stark contrast to the rest of the house. I had covered the marble floor in thick, fluffy blue rugs that I could sink my feet into like grass.

My room was messy, as I hated having the housemaids rifle through my things. I hopped over the pile of papers and books on the floor as I made my way to the deep closet. I changed quickly, from my house garb to something more refined. Still in the pale colours that Lady Elowyn favoured, but more detailed and clean.

The skirt was made of thin materials but had many layers, embroidered into the skirts were honey bees and flowers, creating a mirage of a field. The bodice was tighter but had the same flowing sleeves as the skirt. I hated the sickly green it was. What I hated more was having to change out of the boots. I don’t mind the slippers they give me, they are soft like rabbits fur, but I feel as if I am wearing no shoes at all.

I had spent too much time tying up the dress I had no time for the rest of me. My hair was already tied, that was all I could do.

I pushed open the door and closed it quickly, hoping I could make it to the main hall before she came to collect me. The guests would have left by now, Lord Bryn would be waiting to leave as well.

“No time for your hair or face?” Lady Elowyn said, voice sweet as honey.

I bit a snide comment back, I know better to hold my tongue, I bowed deeply. “Forgive me, My Lady, it seems my skills in time are less than adequate.”

“Less than adequate?” She mused, moving closer to me. Her jewelled hand lifted my chin to meet her gaze. “Less than adequate? Not quite, dear Harper, your skills lie elsewhere than in time.” She scanned my face, her eyebrow lifting in disgust. “But I will not have you leave this house without the proper preparation.”

Please don’t go in my room, I know you hate it. I tried to smile, begging her to leave. She opened the door anyway, her hesitation showed me her distaste for my room. She stepped over the scattered papers and discard clothes as she dragged me to the tiled bathroom.

Sitting me down at the vanity, she perused over the countless things piled onto the space. I didn’t know what they were, so I never bothered.

She rubbed a sweet smelling cream into my face, her spindle fingers rougher than I expected, her pointed nails digging into my cheeks. The cream seemed to blur my skin, removing its blotchy colours and evidence of humanness. I watched my reflection change in the mirror as she painted my eyelids with a green glitter. She lined my eyes in silver, my lips as well. She hung small stars along my ears, they twinkled with any movement.

I could pass as a fae child, almost. I did not have their pointed ears or thin lips or mystic eyes. My humanness was evident in my face.

Lady Elowyn tugged harshly at my hair, showing me that no matter how much she liked me, I was nothing but a doll for her to dress. She wound my hair around a pin and rested her hands on my shoulders.

Lady Elowyn looked at me in the mirror, smiling absently. “Now, you’re more than adequate.”

I whispered a thank you, I know her words were simple and stung slightly, but I felt giddy at her small compliment.

Back in my main room, she eyed the many instruments, assessing them carefully. “This one,” she pointed at a small harp, carved into a golden wood with silver strings. “I love the harmonies you create with this one.”

“Of course, My Lady,” I bowed slightly, taking the small harp off its altar and holding it carefully.

I trailed behind her as she made her way to the entrance, walking down the stairs that circled the main hall. I liked the way this house was built, similar to a beehive, with a hollow middle and rooms branching off. Lord Bryn and their two sons were waiting by the door, he smiled up at his wife. She looked at each of them carefully, all in silver and purple suits that mimicked twilight sky. She kissed her sons on the cheek and took her husbands arm, he lead her out to the heavy oak doors. I trailed behind them again, quietly with my head bowed. 

The dusk air was cold, I shivered slightly as the wind blew. The family of fae piled into the carriage, settling themselves down on the silk seats. I hesitated, unsure of where to go.

“Hurry, Harper, you must no dawdle,” Lady Elowyn called out, beckoning me in.

I hurried into the carriage, tucking myself into the window beside her. She smiled down at me, Lord Bryn ignored me.

I hugged my harp tightly and gazed out the window, we passed other mansions, glowing in the setting sun. We passed forests and ponds and clearings were simple fae danced around tree stumps and stone fountains.

I knew one son was glaring at me, I avoided his eyes and continued to study the stars. Dale had hated me since I was forced to be here. He often complained of my music in hopes that I would be removed from the house, but Lady Elowyn never listened to him.

Elm was kinder to me, he often brought me sweet cakes after a long night of entertaining guests with my music. Elm once gave me a balm for my sore fingers, I’ve cherished it since.

I ignored Dale’s fierce gaze as the carriage bumped along the road. Lady Elowyn and Lord Bryn chattered with Elm mindlessly, discussing who else would be attending the Queens twilight party. 

Few were always invited to these, it always caused such drama amongst the gentry and the Higher Courts. Lady Elowyn made me play at these, I would stand near the Queens altar and play until the revel was done.

I don’t know of Lady Elowyn and Lord Bryn’s connection with the Queen and her family, since Lord Bryn never favoured politics and Lady Elowyn didn’t seem to be the one who would wait at the Queens feet. I never asked questions, I know better than to poke into the business of the fae.

The carriage had stopped, I could hear the sounds of voices drift through the cool air. I followed them blindly out of the carriage and into the Queens oak garden.

Dale grabbed my arm harshly and pulled me into the shadows, he towered over me. “Listen here, mortal, indulge in the days you have left. Soon you will be replaced and left with nothing. I won’t stand the sight of you in my house any longer.”

I didn’t reply, I wasn’t able to. By Lady Elowyn’s command, I could not speak a word to Dale or Elm. I nodded meekly in response. Dale seemed disgusted at the action, he left me in the shadows and entered the throng of elaborately dressed fae.

“What a thorn in the roses,” a voice said from behind me.

I jumped, I was not expecting him to be here. “What are you doing here? How did you even get invited?”

Locklan smiled as he smoothed out his maroon suit. “I have my ways, dear songbird.”

I hated that nickname, I am no caged bird. “You can’t lie to me, Locklan, so tell me.”

He shrugged. “I’m afraid my lips are sealed, songbird, I am here for merriment.”

I sighed, Locklan always showed up in the least likely places, it was no surprise he would be at the Queens twilight party. I left him in the shadows as I found my place near the Queens altar, I waited for the Queen to arrive for me to play.

All the fae seemed untouchable as they gathered in their silks and gems. They dressed in the finest clothes I have seen, all colours of the rainbow and every colour in-between. Some suits and dresses changed colour with each movement, some looked as if they were growing from the fae’s body. It was a magical sight.

I knew Locklan was behind me, he may have prided himself on his ability to be silent, but even my mortal ears could hear his footfalls.

“I am not allowed to talk to you while I am working,” I said, trying to ignore him.

“From what I’ve heard, you’re not allowed to do a lot of things,” he said, sliding next to me. “So tell me, songbird, what can you do?”

I lifted the small harp in my hands. “I can play.”

His fox eyes stayed on the silver strings. “What else?”

I felt hot with embarrassment. What else can I do? Shame choked me, I can’t do anything else. Locklan didn’t move, his fox eyes shifted from the harp and trailed up to watch the party. He stayed silent.

To say I don’t like Locklan is harsh, he’s not the type you don’t like. He is mischievous and naughty, always pulling tricks and deals when you least expect it. But he is fun to be around, and is kind, sometimes. His family is somehow tied in with the High Courts, his father has a close connection with the Queen. Most fae don’t like Locklan or his family, their fox features, selfish habits and silver tongues make them hard to control. 

More had joined the party as the sky had dimmed. The Queen and her daughters were unusually late. The fae that were here chatted under the glowing lamps, not touching the food or starting any sort of merriment. That would all begin when the Queen would arrive, I still had some time until I was needed to play.

Locklan was waving someone over, I dreaded the company of another fae.

“Harper! I knew you would be here!” The voice was light and airy, I was glad to hear their voice. I haven’t seem them in a while.

Opal fluttered over to us, literally fluttered. She had thick moth wings that picked her up off the ground. Her fluffy dress floated like a cloud around her. Even though her body was small, almost all of her features were big. Big, round endless eyes, large and fluffy antenna sticking out of her fluffy hair. She jumped into Locklan’s arms.

“Hello Locky!” She giggled as her hair smothered him. Opal hesitated in touching me, no one was allowed to. Another one of Lady Elowyns rule. We had found a loophole to that rule, no fae could touch me in her presence.

Opal ogled at the harp in my hands. “Oh, what a beautiful instrument, I can’t wait to hear what you’ll play!”

I know she was just trying to be kind, but she sounded like the rest of the fae, ordering me to play for them. I smiled in response, not wanting to sour her bubbly mood. She smiled back, teeth perfectly white.

She hooked arms with Locklan and squeezed herself in between us, her fluffy skirt soft against me. “So, what do you think the drama will be tonight?”

“You tell me, O Wise One, isn’t your mother the Royal Astrologer? Shouldn’t you be able to read the stars and tell us our futures?” I teased.

Opal pouted. “Maybe, but it’s far more fun to guess.”

“I think it’s far more fun to create the drama ourselves,” Locklan said through his usual smile.

“No, Locklan, don’t you go starting anything, Evora will not be happy with you!” Opal whisper shouted, pulling at Locklans sleeve.

He just rolled his fox eyes and smiled. Of course he would never promise her he wouldn’t, he loved creating chaos. 

A hush fell over the gathering of fae. The Queen of Folkshire had arrived.

She was perfect, an image of ethereal beauty. Queen Lorvera’s beauty was stunning, everyone watched as she made her way to the throne. Her glowing dress mimicked moonlight, as if the fabric was made of stars. As Queen Lorvera walked, flowers poked out of the grass and bloomed, tree branches bent down to touch her crown. Her five daughters trailed behind her. Princess Astria, her skirts a blooming artwork of white roses. Princess Bria with her black hair in long braids down her back. The twins, Cordelia and Dahlia with their multicoloured eyes. And the young Princess Evora last. They all looked stunning, flowing dresses and silky hair and dark skin that glowed bronze in the light. All alluring, all untouchable in their beauty.

Queen Lorvera sat down, her skirts trickling down the small steps like water. She raised her hand and spoke in her honeyed voice. “Well? Let us enjoy the twilight and dance until the sun comes to join.”

Lady Elowyn nodded at me, I lifted my harp and began to play. I plucked the silver strings, creating a merry tune of birdsong and chimes. The fae began to dance and sing, their voices sounding like bells. I kept the tune light, creating an aura of enjoyment.

Locklan and Opal stayed next to me, occasionally leaving to snatch food, drinks and pieces of conversations. I felt guilty, having them next to me.

I was a mortal servant of a Lady, they were fae children of members of the Queens Court, they shouldn’t even be seen near me. Yet they stayed, knowing they couldn’t interrupt my playing, they chatted quietly and watched me.

Some other muses and artists that were invited came closer. Majority of them were fae, or half fae. Few were mortals, their rounded ears and dull coloured eyes gave me some comfort.

I should give a better explanation of why I am a servant to the fae. Seelie fae are odd creatures, as I’ve said, and some of their customs are beyond humane. Before Queen Lorvera made the law that no mortals are to be stolen, it was normal for humans to be taken from their streets and used as entertainment for the fae. The Seelie fae mainly stole artists, musicians and writers and crafters who could create pretty things for them. Those kind of people would be showed off, like me, and fae would buy and sell them from each other.

I have been bought four times, I was taken from my real family when I was young. I should have known better than to show off my music playing. Since I was young when I was taken, they replaced me with a fae child. That child now has my life, they have my face and name and even voice. But they are not me, they are not even human.

The fae artists around me criticised me, as they usually do, mainly because of my mortal blood. Some of them smiled or nodded at my playing, the mortal artists raised their glasses in honour, congratulating me. I was far younger than them, and the older fae musicians knew I was better than them. That meant I was in danger.

Thankfully, due to Lady Elowyns magic and words, no one could do me harm or use any magic on me that was weaker than Lady Elowyns. Fae magic is strange and powerful, my mortal mind could not comprehend it, so I never tried. I knew the basics of Lady Elowyns magic, her words created power itself, when written on paper and then eaten, the spells would protect whatever ingested the paper. I felt weird afterwards, dizzy and numb for hours. 

She explained the rules as she wrote them down, I could not speak a word to her sons or husband, I could not speak while playing, I could not refuse any order given to me by her family, I could not cause harm to anyone, and I was not allowed to tell any one of my past. No magic could be cast on me if it was weaker than Lady Elowyns, which is very rare. No faerie fruit, food, drink or poison could do me harm. I could see through almost all fae magic and could never be tricked by their words. Lady Elowyn said it was for my own protection, which some of it was, but most were chains that kept me bound to her.

My fingers began to sting, the silver strings feeling like lead. I slowed my tune, falling into something more slower and calm. Lady Elowyn approached me, the other fae around me dispersed, afraid of her. Locklan and Opal fell silent near me, not wanting to be noticed by her. Lady Elowyn smiled, like a mother consoling her child.

“You may rest now, Harper, enjoy some food and dances. I will find another musician for a while,” she handed me a goblet of purple liquid.

I bowed deeply and accepted the drink. “Thank you, My Lady, I am forever grateful for your kind actions.”

She smiled again, pale eyes glowing. She gently caressed my cheek. “Save your talents for later tonight, there will be a surprise.”

With that she left, her twilight dress falling like water around her. Locklan and Opal hurried up to me, smiling deviously.

“What did she mean?” Locklan asked first, fox eyes wide.

I shushed him quickly. “I don’t know! Don’t ask me!”

Opal groaned. “The one time we get some drama filled sentence and you don’t even know what it means!”

I wanted to slap her arm, but my limb felt numb at the thought. Not even Lady Elowyns magic could let me make joking movements in her presence. I brushed off the twitch as if I were smoothing my skirt. I tucked my harp under my arm and held the goblet with both hands, taking small sips. The purple liquid tasted like lavender and mint and fresh water. Fae flavours were something I would miss if I was ever allowed to go back home.

Opal and Locklan started up a quick conversation, soon I was lost in their laughter and sly jokes that I didn’t notice another fae approaching us.

“I do hope you aren’t enjoying the revel so much without me,” they spoke regally, I froze at their tone.

“Is enjoying ourselves without you forbidden? I never knew,” Locklan smiled as he bowed.

Princess Evora laughed as Locklan kissed her hand. She moved to hug Opal, with Opal’s mother having such close connections with the Queen, Opal and Evora almost grew up together. Evora moved to hug me, all I could do was bow. Another rule from Lady Elowyns magic, under no circumstances am I allowed to touch the royal family. I smiled at Evora, it was the only way I could show her affection.

Princess Evora was a part of our little group, although we only saw her on nights like these, I enjoyed her company thoroughly. Evora was the fifth and final daughter to Queen Lorvera, she had no hopes of obtaining the throne so she spent her days making as many friends as she could. Evora was the most loved princess.

Princess Evora was gorgeous, her whole family was. While their beauty was stunning, Evora’s beauty was how serene and simple she looked. Evora had the same high cheekbones and round jaw has her sisters, the same pointed ears and smooth nose. While her mothers and sisters eyes were the bright colours, Evora’s eyes were the colour of old green pine. They still glittered nonetheless. Evora was still beautiful.

Her hair was free falling around her shoulders, in thick earthy brown curls. Her ears and neck were covered in sapphires embedded in silver leaves, the sapphires matched her blue dress. Her dress looked like the ocean, deep blue and shimmering. 

“Harper? Are you all right?” Princess Evora asked, attempting to place a hand on my arm.

I hated that my arm involuntarily flinched out of her reach, I tried to smile at her to give her some comfort. “I am fine, Your Highness, I suppose I am drained from playing.”

“If you say so,” her eyes seemed sad, I wanted to make her feel better.

Opal poked my side. “Tell her what Lady Elowyn said to you.”

I didn’t think it was important, but Opal always had a deep desire for secrets. “When Lady Elowyn told me to stop playing, she said to wait for a surprise. Do you know what it could be?”

Evora smiled, her eyes glowed. “Oh, I do, and I won’t tell you.”

Locklan, as dramatic as he is, acted so hurt I thought he was going to weep. “My dear, angelic Highness, how could you be so cruel and not let us in on your dark secrets? How could you hold onto this information without telling us?”

Evora giggled behind her jewelled hand, her laugh sounded like wind chimes. “I wish I could, Locklan, but I’m afraid my mother has prohibited us from telling. We must wait until she has deiced to announce it.”

Opal nibbled on her finger. “Announce, you say? Hmm, what could she be announcing?” Opals wide eyes grew wider, she grasped Evora’s arm and jumped up and down. “I know! I know! Oh, it will be wondrous!”

“What? Now you know you have to tell us!” I said.

Opal squealed as she grasped my hands tightly. “Oh, I really can’t, but it will be wondrous!”

Locklan scoffed and crossed his arms. “Can you at least promise that whatever will be announced will cause some sort of theatrics?”

Opal and Evora exchanged looks, they smiled wildly. “Oh, dear Locklan, the drama that will unfold will be so fruitful that your family will have endless opportunities to create chaos,” Evora promised.

Locklan smiled again, showing his sharp teeth. “Well, if that’s the case, better start the warm up entertainment.”

He bowed deeply and turned towards the tables piled high with foods. He grabbed his older sister’s hand and leaped up onto the table. He twirled Volipa in his arms and they started to dance to the jumpy tune played on a flute somewhere. They kicked off platers of fruit and honeyed meats. The closest fae shrieked and moved quickly out of their range to protect their clothing.

Some fae laughed and cheered. Fae were odd like that, some craved chaos and drama so much they created it themselves, Locklan’s family was praised for the stories they created. Locklan and Volipa smiled and laughed as they danced on the table.

Evora laughed into her hand. “His desire for attention overrides his self-pride.”

“I don’t think there is anything else that can overcome Locklan’s love for attention,” I said, sipping my goblet.

“Not even his love for himself?” Opal quipped, we all laughed.

Evora hooked arms with Opal, Opal held onto my sleeve in response, Evora leaned forward. “Shall we follow his lead?”

I was about to agree when a hush fell over the party. Locklan and Volipa stopped their dancing, Queen Lorvera raised her eyebrow at them. Locklan and Volipa guilty climbed down from the table, their clothing stained with food and drink.

Queen Lorvera’s voice carried itself over the crowd. “Those young foxes, always creating some sort of ruckus when they get bored.”

The crowed laughed, Locklan and Volipa bowed dramatically, flashing their fox teeth. Queen Lorvera raised her glass at them, smiling to herself.

“What is the meaning of this party, you might ask? Well, as much as I love to keep secrets to myself, I can hold this one no longer,” everyone was hanging onto the Queens words, all silent and patient for what will be announced.

Queen Lorvera beckoned her eldest daughter, Astria, towards her. Evora and Opal bounced on their feet next to me. I could guess what is going to happen, but I was far from the truth. Queen Lorvera beckoned another fae forward, Elm walked towards her. Elm held Princess Astria’s hand and smiled brightly.

Queen Lorvera raised her goblet higher. “I am so proud to announce that we will have a wedding soon upon us. We shall celebrate the joining of my oldest daughter Astria, and the oldest son of Lord Bryn. We shall welcome Elm into my household, where he will be crowned prince, and continue the Viridishire line.”

The fae gathered erupted into cheers, they threw flowers into the air and started to dance. I had zoned out, almost on the brink of panicking.

What does this mean for me? How long will I be asked to play? Until my fingers bleed? Will I be sold again when Lady Elowyn finds a better muse to please the Queen?

A sharp jolt in my side shook me, Opal nodded in the direction of Lady Elowyn. She was glaring at me. I cleared my throat and raised my harp, I started to play instantly. The merry tune I played sent the fae into dancing circles as they congratulated Elm and Astria. Opal and Evora stayed next to me, chatting excitedly about the new wedding.

I felt sick, I don’t know why, my head started to swirl as I played. I had a bad feeling about this wedding. I wanted to feel happy for Elm, he has been nothing but kind to me. Something cold was tugging at me, my instincts trying to say something. I prayed it was fatigue as I continued to play. 

Please let nothing go wrong.

[mistrdctr]

At the moment you want...

to be loved.

it's lonely, despite people constantly reassuring you. platonic or romantic, you crave to feel warm, to feel held, to feel worthwhile and to feel cared for. you yearn for that feeling, like a spot of sun hitting your skin on a breezy day. you want validation, love, from those who surround you. you aren't sure how to ask, or if you can. there's fear there, you can't figure out if they care, if this is love, if they're sincere. perhaps your shoes were muddied, during a long walk in the rain, and you fell, and you were muddied as well. you got home, finally, and washed off, but part of you still feels muddied. your past is not the present. someone loves you. reach out, and express that you need that love, and surely, someone will reciprocate.

tagged by: @danversiism (kinda) ♥ tagging: @forevermuses (any muse you like), @abyssalmuses (Otto?), @kissedbymischief, @ironifiicd, @wildcxrds (any muse), @itsalcngstory (any muse you like), @deficd (any muse you like), @paramounticebound and you! ♥

[m-y-fandoms]

Korekiyo Shinguuji x oblivious crush reader - short imagine

Request: could i request some headcanons or an imagine (whichever you prefer, i’m not picky lol) for Korekiyo with a crush on an incredibly oblivious female reader who never realizes he’s trying to flirt with her/trying to see if she likes him back? sorry if this is a weird request haha :,)

THIS ISN’T A WEIRD REQUEST, KIYO IS MY BABY DADDY. Also you requested female reader, but I wrote this with a female in mind and then realized I never used any feminine-assigned words or pronouns in here, so anyone can read this with themselves in mind! - Mod Kokichi

Warnings: PG-13 in terms of sexual/romantic scenarios and wording

     “So, in essence, that is why the Egyptians worshipped Hathor, in all her grace and beauty. Isn’t that fascinating, y/n?” Korekiyo mused, watching you carefully as you waltzed through the rows of scrolls and ancient texts in his research lab.

     “Yes, it’s a wonderful story! You really are lucky to have traveled to Eygpt! Heck, I’d never even left Japan until...well coming to wherever we are trapped now. Do you mind?” You pointed to a particularly intricate and elaborate book cover on a high up shelf.

     “Not at all, my dear. Feel free to take any materials from my lab that you wish, as long as you promise I can visit your lab freely as well?” You let the words ‘my dear’ ghost over your ears with little to no reaction. Normally, if such a handsome man had playfully rolled those words off of his tongue in your direction, your neck hairs would have stood on end like a startled cat, but with Korekiyo it was different. You did harbor some...feelings for him, but he called everyone dear, right? He was always spewing mature and polite crap like that.

     “Yeah, of course, though I don’t know why an anthropologist would ever waste his time in a plain old dance studio,” you chuckled, on your tip-toes struggling for the tome far above you. Korekiyo snuck up behind you, his chest warm against your back as he reached up and plucked the book down for you, placing it gently in your hands. You held the book to your own chest and turned to face him, finding yourself flush against the wooden bookshelf with the lanky anthropologist trapping you in place. “Thanks, Kiyo!” You felt blood rush to your cheeks as he tilted his head at you like a curious puppy hearing the word ‘treat!’ You tried to settle your stuttering heart. Surely he was just being nice, right?

     “Think nothing of it…” his hands came up slowly on either side of your head, caging you in between his slender arms. “You know, y/n, Hathor is known mainly for her impressive duality. She balances femininity and softness with strength and vengeance. She is a protector, but also is the harbinger of dance, joy, love...sexuality.” His voice deepened into a rasp that was like melted chocolate flowing freely over your ears. His proximity was beginning to make you dizzy. “You remind me of Hathor in many ways. I see the way you take care of your friends here, the way you defend people, but also the with which you dance: the water-like movements of your passion.”

     “...” you stood there, silent for a moment, and then another moment, and then another. He looked at your expectantly, his expression unreadable through his mask. “Well, thanks, Kiyo! I never thought you’d be into ballet! Though I guess dance is a part of culture as much as anything else!” You ducked under his arm with a chipper attitude, shuffling into the open space of his lab, and he sighed deeply, looking at the ground in self-pity. Were you really not interested in him? He couldn’t blame you. Many people saw him as a creep, a pariah. He was a teenager that wore a mask at all times for crying out loud. He endlessly spewed random facts and unsolicited folk tales. Of course people avoided him. But you...you visited him every day. Before his lab opened up, you met with him in the library and inquired about his day. You asked him to eat lunch with you, and walk you back to the dorms after dinner. You asked to hear his stories, and he found himself growing to like you more and more. He didn’t want to admit his feelings until he knew for sure that you felt the same, but it was looking like his old friend, rejection, might win the war once again.

     “Kiyo, this lab is simply amazing! You’re so lucky... you got the biggest one yet! My studio looks like a janitor’s closet compared to this!” You spun around on the new floor on his lab, taking in the sights, book in hand. You’d been here every day since it opened, but dedicated yourself to one section a day, having only reached this floor earlier that evening. You thought knowledge like this deserved time and respect. Korekiyo agreed of course.

     “Well when one’s area of study is the entire world, a proportionately large area is needed for said study,” he drawled, slinking along behind you as you sat in a chair on the main floor. He sat in the chair across from you in front of the wall of display cases holding ceremonial swords and masks as you fingered through the book in wonder.

     “Woah…” your eyes widened innocently.

     “Ahhh, the Kama Sutra? You’re holding one of the oldest copies known to man.” He leaned closer to you, splaying his fingers over the page you were on slowly and seductively. “I had no idea you were this kind of person, y/n…” there’s that confectionary tone again, sweet and dripping with carnal desire.

     “N-no of course not I just...what kind of person do you mean? I mean...I think the book is just interesting, the cover and the design on the spine drew me in and-“

     “We should never judge a book based on its cover, yes?” He let his honeyed-words sink in to your doe-like eyes, “I think human beings, much like this book, hide things within our pages not immediately evident on our covers.”

     “I agree…” his words flew right over your head. “Like you! I didn’t know you had an interest in ballet at all!” He was starting to get frustrated, but he exhaled deeply, his inner voice telling him to have patience.

     “Well, yes, I’ve seen many different forms of dance, and of course, ballet is delicate and breath-taking, but also very strenuous. Another thing we shouldn’t take at face value. I’ve seen the feet of many a poor dancer after a performance, and it really is a harsh contrast to the grace of the dance itself.”

     “Yes, yes! You get it!” He smiled at your child-like wonder, with you seeing only the crinkle of his eyes above the mask. “I know so many men who don’t even think dance of any kind can be a sport. I think many so-called atheletes would give up on day one of ballet lessons.” You chuckled, and he let himself be enveloped in your laughter. He was complete entranced in your aura.

     “So, you will allow me to view your ballet practice in private some time? I’ve seen you with your lab door open in passing, but I would be absolutely delighted if you’d honor me with a private session, so I could focus on you and only you.” He leaned forward, his elbows on his knees, his long raven hair falling around him like a bed canopy.

     “Oh, Kiyo…” you began, your own heart hurting at the words you were about the speak, but it was for the best. You didn’t want to waste his time, not in a place like this. “I know you’re interested in ballet, but after those first two trials and this whole not-knowing-when-we-are-gonna-die thing, I don’t think it would be a worthy use of your time to pull yourself away from all of this,” you gestured to the gigantic room around you, “in order to-”

     “Y/N-!” He spoke angrily and abruptly, startling you, before composing himself and beginning again, taking the book from your hand and instead intertwining his fingers in your own. “...I am not interested in ballet, so much as I am interested in you. Do you understand?” You felt your body tense up in complete shock. He wasn’t serious right…? He was teasing you, taking advantage of your naïveté and your obvious feelings for him. Maybe you weren’t hiding them as well as you’d thought.

     “Me…?” You looked at his wrapped hand in yours, the bandages scratchy texture pulling you back down to earth.

     “Yes, you.” He spoke bluntly, with nothing but compassion in his voice.

     “But you’re...you’re so…” he braced himself, waiting for the insults and degrading comments that always followed when he let his walls down around normal people.

     “...Odd? Long-winded? A freak of nature?” He sighed, pulling away.

     “Beautiful…” you could hardly hear your own words pouring from your mouth, the pounding of your heart beat too loud in your ears. You grabbed his hand, and in a moment of fragile silence, began to unwrap the linen that covered every inch of his fingers, then down to his palms and wrists. His hands, now revealed to you fully for the first time, were just as beautiful as his voice and cat-like golden eyes. They were pale, ghostly, ethereal. They looked like they could break at the slightest touch, but withstand any hard labor that was thrown at them at the same time. “Korekiyo, you spend so much time telling others that humanity is beautiful, that you haven’t taken the time to see it in yourself, have you? At least...not for a long while.”

     “Y/N, I-” you reached for the top of his mask with shaking fingers, and he jerked away roughly, terrified. When you reached out again, he didn’t move, steeling himself to be exposed to you. You deserved to see the truth. His eyelids fluttered closed, and his heart dropped into his stomach.

     Your fingertips lingered at the top of the mask before tugging it down gently. He kept his eyes shut tightly as you observed his full face.

     The tip of his nose, which you could tell from the nose bridge was thin, came to an adorable point above his lips. A delicate, milky white chin led up on either side to a sharp jawline, high cheekbones and a flawless complexion. That powdery complexion was met in stark contrast to the blood-red pigment of a matte lipstick staining his lips.

     “Y/N, I didn’t want you to see me...truly see me for the first time like thi-” you brought your lips closer to his until they were touching, and soon found yourself leaning into his chest, into his lap in his seated position in front of you. Your lips pressed into his, a bit more bold now, and your confidence spurred his own. You now straddled his hips, your legs on either side of his thighs, and he grabbed your hips, his hands shaking like a leaf in the wind. He pulled back, scanning your face for any regret, any shame or fear, and sensing none, crashed his lips onto yours again. He roughly sucked on your bottom lip, pulling a small moan from your mouth that excited him more than anything corporeal had in a long time. You never thought he’d be such a good kisser.

     “Korekiyo…” you pulled back again, giving you both some much-needed air. “I never thought that...someone like you would even glance my way. You’re so intelligent, so regal and elegant and different from the norm and…” your words trailed off, and his thumb reached up to your lips, roughly wiping away the red lipstick that clung onto your face as a reminder that he had been there.

     “Likewise, y/n,” he reclined back into the chair with you still on his lap, a little too cocky and cheeky for his own good, but to say the smirk on his messy red mouth wasn’t turning you on would be a lie.

[gukyi]

if i told you (post-script) | jjk

summary: now that you and jungkook are together, all you have left to worry about are your finals. and while finals have never been merciful, at least you always have jungkook to lift you up. 

{established relationship!au, college!au}

pairing: jeon jungkook x female reader genre: fluff word count: 1k warnings: finals week *mr krabs meme* a/n: thank you to @cherryjiminiee​ for commissioning me for this drabble and for donating to the #blacklivesmatter movement !!! still wishing that this fic was my life.

Jeon Jungkook finishes his very last computer science final on the second-to-last day of the spring semester. 

You know this mostly because he had been complaining about having to take it for the week prior to the actual exam, dragging you out to the always-open library on campus to study at three in the morning when neither of you can sleep. You also know this because Jeon Jungkook calls you the moment he leaves the auditorium where he was taking it, and you are already well aware of what he’s going to ask of you when you pick up. 

“How’d it go?” You respond, shutting your laptop and hopping off your bed. 

“It wasn’t a total disaster,” Jungkook says, always looking on the bright side. “But… it wasn’t great.”

“There’ll probably be a curve,” you assure him. Computer science classes have never had a good track record of being easy or yielding independently high grades. 

“There better be,” he huffs. “I need at least a B in this class to keep my GPA.”

“If you totally fail, you know you can always go back to being a rent-a-boyfriend,” you tease. Not that Jungkook would ever consider doing that again, even if the pay was good and he reaped massive benefits, like free food and clothes. Your phone is squished between your ear and your shoulder as you shove your feet into your sneakers and grab your backpack. 

“Hey, you get me for free, so keep your mouth shut,” Jungkook counters, a giggle bubbling out of your mouth in return. “Anyway, come over? We can watch Studio Ghibli and eat kettle corn.”

“I’m already on my way.”

When you speed walk, you can make it to Jungkook’s apartment in seven minutes, including the time that you have to wait crossing a major roadway with traffic lights that take forever to change. You get there in eight and a half because you’re distracted by a club selling roses to commemorate the end of the semester, picking one up on your way. 

You knock on the door once before it opens to reveal none other than Jungkook, who looks every bit the beat-up-by-finals-week college student he is, under-eye bags down to his knees and a ratty old t-shirt with tomato sauce stains all over it. But he’s smiling, and his tired eyes light up when they see you, and he’s perfect. 

“I brought you something,” you say cheerfully, whipping out the rose you had been hiding behind your back. “Yoga club was selling them along the walk.”

Jungkook’s eyes scrunch up when they see the flower in your hands. He takes it between his fingers, and in one fell swoop breaks off most of the stem, so that only an inch or two remain. Gently, he places it above your ear, turning it until it’s just right, before beaming. “Beautiful,” he says. 

“So, you got Kiki’s Delivery Service lined up or what?” You ask, barging into his apartment, feeling the soft petals of the rose rest softly against your ear as you walk towards his bedroom. Jungkook doesn’t believe in televisions since they apparently have an uncanny resemblance to microwaves (as if his laptop doesn’t) and because he watches everything on his computer anyway. Besides, a bed is much more suitable for cuddling than a couch is. 

“What? I was thinking we’d start with Spirited Away,” Jungkook says, jogging lightly to catch up to you. When you reach his bedroom, you notice a hoodie of yours lying on top of his comforter, clearly having just been worn. 

You love his bedroom. Not in the sexy kind of way, because there’s this one part of Jungkook’s bed that feels inexplicably like cement, but in the way it feels like it envelops you, surrounds you with everything Jungkook is, everything that makes Jungkook Jungkook. There are framed vinyl covers on the wall of his favorite old bands, a couple pieces of workout gear in the corner. His closet is open because he does not fear demons popping out to get him in the night, and it’s filled with worn flannels and baggy black pants, perhaps a university hoodie or two. The tiny bookshelf in the corner holds all of his used textbooks, post-its and markers sticking out of the top if he ever needs to go back and reference something. It smells like him, woody and boyish and warm, like home. 

It feels like a constant hug from him. 

Avoiding the cement part of his mattress, you quickly settle down on top of the comforter, demanding he grab a blanket and join you. Jungkook does so with ease, making sure to take his laptop with him, as he curls up next to you with a fleece blanket covering your bodies. Knowing the two of you, and knowing that it’s May, you’ll almost definitely abandon the blanket five minutes in, but the feeling is comforting nonetheless. 

Jungkook puts on Kiki’s Delivery Service because you always wear him down, and you pay attention for the first ten minutes before Jungkook decides that resting it on his lap is annoying, and he would rather let it play in the background as you wrap yourselves around each other. 

“How did your finals go?” He murmurs into your hair. 

“They were alright,” you say back, head resting on his chest. “I totally crushed my sociology final, but I’m a little nervous about my political science one. It was just one giant essay for three hours. I filled up two blue books.”

“That’s good, isn’t it?” Jungkook asks. 

“It’s not if my point got lost in all of the words,” you say with a sigh. That’s the danger with essay exams. You can only bullshit part of the way. 

“You have nothing to worry about,” Jungkook assures you, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “I’m sure you did wonderfully.”

“You’re just saying that,” you tease.

“Because I know it,” Jungkook says fondly. “You’re my smart-as-hell girlfriend, of course you kicked ass.”

You grin. Jungkook always knows exactly what to say. “How’d yours go, then?” You ask him. You may have had essays to write, but computer science is on another level of college hell. At least, that’s what Jungkook says. 

“I’m banking on the curve for all of my classes, but I’ve done alright so far this year,” Jungkook tells you. 

“Couldn’t have been as bad as the midterm, right?”

“Oh my God, that midterm ruined my goddamn life. The average for it was a 37. A thirty-seven! That’s like, just over a third of the questions correct. How can professors make tests knowing that it’s impossible to get every single point. Don’t they want their students to succeed?”

“The great mystery of college,” you muse. “But you were above the curve, weren’t you?”

“Yeah, with my 46. Big whoop,” Jungkook huffs out. 

“Now who’s the one worrying for nothing?” You counter, reaching your head up so you can place a kiss on his cheeks. He blushes something fierce every time you do, you’ve noticed. Like he still can’t believe you’d ever want to kiss him. The jokes on him, though, because now that you’ve gotten a taste, you’ll never want to stop. “My genius, future tech CEO boyfriend. I’ll never have to work a day in my life so long as you’re around.”

“Don’t hold your breath,” Jungkook says. “First I have to be employed.”

“The rent-a-boyfriend thing is still on the table,” you joke, making Jungkook shove your head away the next time you go in for a kiss. “Hey, don’t reject me! This could be a good business proposition for you. Oh my God, you could make an app with all of your computer science knowledge! Jeon Jungkook, your personal, moldable fake boyfriend.”

“You’re just gonna sell me out like this?” Jungkook asks, accosted. 

You grin. “Only because I know that at the end of every night, you’ll always be mine.”

“You’re cheesy,” Jungkook tells you (just in case you didn’t already know that), wrapping his hands around you and pulling you in for a kiss. 

“You love it when I’m cheesy,” you say back, grinning against his lips, because he does. “And even when I’m not, you love me then, too.”

“Hmm,” Jungkook says, pretending to think. While he does, you steal yourself another kiss, making his cheeks turn red again. “I guess I do. But only because you love me, too.”

The end of the semester brings both pain and relief, the joy of finishing another year, the despair of a finals week to accompany it. But you know that, no matter what time of year it is, no matter what day of the semester it is, whether it be the seventeenth, the ninety-eighth, or the second-to-last, you will always have Jungkook by your side, ready to take on the next.

↳ links are broken, but don’t forget i’m still taking commissions!

[lady-charinette]

The Revealing Confession - Adrienette Fluff

A/N: This came as a lovely prompt from the amazing @ghostlyhamburger which I unfortunately couldn't do it justice. Hope you still like it a little my friend :3

Warnings: None (maybe cringe? I didnt write in a while)

Pairing: Adrienette

Genres: Fluff, Humor, Reveal

————————————————————————

Plagg lounged on his holder's bed, surrounded by camembert in a circle with a blissed expression.

Adrien rested his chin on his hand, next to him on the bed. "I can't believe this worked."

Plagg rolled over, bits and pieces of cheese rolling off his body in the process. "Huh?"

The model couldn't help but smile at his kwami's drunken expression, already high on cheese. "I can't believe I made a summoning circle with cheese and you fell for it. You're so greedy, Plagg."

The kwami gave a loud yawn. "Me? What can I do when you buy so much cheese? Don't you know how fast it can go bad?"

A deadpan expression greeted him. "...You eat smelly, spoiled cheese Plagg."

Plagg stuck his nose in the air, gingerly cradling his beloved camembert against his body. "Its not spoiled, its exquisite."

Shaking his head, Adrien rolled over onto his back and crossed his arms behind his head, absently daydreaming.

Plagg chose to fill the silence then. "You don't understand Adrien, camembert is the love of my life!"

Adrien snickered when his kwami levitated in the air, dramatically holding a piece of camembert in the air. "It's the first thing I think of when I wake up in the morning, the last thing on my mind before I go to sleep in the evening!" Plagg floated left and right as he did his monologue, unaware of his holder chuckling at him. 

"It occupies my thought every minute of the day and as soon as we're apart, I miss my precious camembert so much! We've had so many moments together! We went through thick and thin! It was camembert and I! Us against the world!" Plagg raised his paw in the air, the other holding the piece of diary tucked into his side.

Just then, something clicked in Adrien's brain.

'You and me against the world m'lady!' 

'Ladybug and Chat Noir are always a team!'

Moments he spent with Ladybug resurfaced in Adrien's mind like a movie, a movie he never grew tired of watching. 

One scene that stuck out to him since months ago was when he once stuck around longer than usual at his and Ladybug's meeting spot.

It was right after patrol, he had time to kill, he didn't think he would've seen what he had that night.

When he as Chat Noir had stretched after a playful rooftop chase with his lady, he spotted something flashing from the alleyway between the two buildings he stood on.

Taking out his baton and moving low to the roof in case it was a villain, he sneaked close to the edge of the roof to investigate, but what he found instead surprised him in a different way.

It was Marinette.

Talking to Tikki.

If there hadn't been that incident where Ladybug and him both had switched their Miraculous, he was sure he wouldn't even know it was Tikki Marinette was talking to. But the least he could've been sure of was that was a kwami and Marinette was talking to Ladybug's kwami-

"Good job today Tikki." He watched as Marinette retrieved a cookie from the purse she always carried around and fed it to the little goddess, scratching her cheek gently.

Tikki giggled, entirely too comfortable with the interaction to be their first time meeting. "You did a good job too Marinette! You should get home and rest."

Marinette had laughed and slowly moved out of the alley. "Yeah, I guess you're right. Chat Noir is bound to be home already and lounging somewhere on a bookshelf." 

He huffed in indignation, he did not normally 'lounge around' on shelves. That had been once and Ladybug never stopped teasing him for it.

Wait.

Ladybug!

Marinette was-

He had hidden behind a chimney and had slapped his mouth closed in case he would scream or squeal, whichever came first. He couldn't believe it.

His lady was his princess!

Ladybug was Marinette!

Marinette was Ladybug! The love of his life! Both loves of his life!

It had been at that point that made Adrien think. 

And Plagg's words struck a chord.

The kwami continued his monologue, oblivious to his holder's inner musings. "The pain I feel of being apart can't be described, no matter how many languages you humans invent, you can never invent a language for love! That's how important cheese is to me Adrien, but I don't expect you to understand." Plagg sniffed dramatically, sobbing into his cheese while he discreetly munched on it. 

Adrien shot up in bed, startling Plagg causing him to fall on the soft bedding. "Hey!"

"I...love her."

Plagg looked up from inspecting his cheese for scratches. "What?"

"I love her."

Plagg rolled his eyes. "Yeah, yeah, I know loverboy. You love Ladybug, the love of your life." 

Adrien suddenly grabbed Plagg in his hands and stared into his soul. "Marinette! I love Marinette! I love Ladybug! Them both! Because they're the same! Marinette is the girl behind the mask that I love Plagg!"

His kwami's eyes widened in fear. "No wait, Adrien, what we saw on the rooftop that one night, that was- Tikki was- Tikki talks to a lot of humans, you know?"

His kwami's poor attempt was dwarfed by Adrien's unadulterated glee. "It's alright Plagg! I know, you don't have to lie to me. I know!"

Plagg yelped when he was flung in the air and caught again by Adrien, clinging onto the boy's hand in fear of being thrown into the air again.

"I can't believe it! Ladybug, m'lady and Marinette, my princess - they're the same! Plagg, do you know what this means?!"

"...Err...that uh, Ladybug's your classmate?"

Adrien shook his head, green eyes sparkling. "No! It means I have to tell Marinette how I feel!"

Plagg was unceremoniously dumped back on the bed, rolling around until a big block of cheese stopped his descent. "Adrien! Where are you going?"

Adrien was already running for the door. "I have to con-" he froze just as his hand landed on the doorknob. "-confess...to Marinette..." he glanced at his kwami. "Plagg?"

"What?"

"....What if she rejects me?"

The kwami's eyes nearly fell out of his sockets. "Are you serious?"

Adrien fidgeted nervously with his hands, rubbing the back of his neck. "It's just-I didn't- I never confessed to a girl before and- I never confessed to someone as amazing as Marinette! What if she doesn't like me back? Ladybug said she loves another boy! What if she's dating Luka? She never said anything but I saw her at their band practice and the way he smiles at her is the way I want to smile at her and she blushes when she's with him and they ice skate together and how could someone as awesome as Marinette like someone like-"

Plagg flew up to his holder's face and smashed Adrien's cheeks together. "Breathe!"

Adrien froze, lips squished like a fish. "Pwapfh?"

The kwami sighed. Kids these days. "I'm pretty sure bakery girl isn't dating anyone. And I really doubt she doesn't feel the same, Adrien."

Nervous green eyes bore into Plagg's ancient soul. "How can you be so sure Plagg?"

Plagg refrained from counting all the moments he witnessed, while transformed and as a kwami, of pigtails girl breaking her back to act normal around her very obvious crush on his owner. "...Kwami's intuition. Anyway, why don't you uh...practice?"

Adrien tilted his head to the side. "...Practice?"

Plagg slapped his face. "The confession."

"Plagg, you're a genius!" Adrien scratched under the cat god's chin and received an appreciative purr in return. "But not here, Nathalie or father might overhear me."

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

"I can do this." Adrien paced back and forth, taking deep breaths. "I can do this. I saw this in movies. I can do this."

Adrien exhaled loudly and then dropped onto one knee, red rose poised in the air. "My lady, my princess, if I could I would take the stars from the skies and gift them to you, not that you would need them, because the whole galaxy is in your eyes already." 

"No, no, no, that's too cheesy!" Adrien stood up and tapped his knuckles against the side of his head. "Technically, I could do that as Astrocat, but I'm not sure how well Ladybug-Marinette would take that, would that be abusing my powers?" 

Rubbing his chin, Adrien cleared his throat. "My sweet Marinette, from the day we shared that umbrella under the rain in front of school, you made me realize what romance was like in real life, but more importantly, you made me realize the importance of having a good friend." Adrien stood frozen in the park, sighing heavily. "That's not good either!"

~~~~~~~

"I don't really know Tikki, do you think Adrien might like it?" the girl clutched the new, yet to be released, song of Jagged Stone in her hands, personally signed by the musician. She knew Adrien liked him too, but would he think she was weird for gifting him this? 

Tikki smiled encouragingly at her owner. "I'm sure he will love it Marinette! Then you can finally ask him to eat ice-cream with you!"

The girl sighed, staring up at the sky in defeat as she walked. "I don't know Tikki, I doubt Adrien would notice me that way. Besides, I think Kagami and him are an I-wuah!" Marinette's foot slammed against the little protruding rock, probably kicked away from the park onto the sidewalk and fell over on her knees. "Ouch!" 

Tikki quickly flew down to inspect her friend. "Marinette, are you okay?"

Marinette winced. "I'm fine Tikki-"

"Argh! No! That's terrible! She'll think I want to kidnap her!" a very familiar voice echoed from the park, one that automatically made Marinette's heart skip a beat.

"W-Wait, is that- am I dreaming again?" forgetting about her fall, Marinette speedcrawled into the nearest bush, bluebell eyes scanning the entirety of the park before they landed on one figure.

It was Adrien.

Tikki hovered near her holder, also watching Adrien. "Look, its Adrien."

"Yeah, but what is he doing out here?" if she recalled correctly, he was supposed to be studying in his room by now for the chemistry test next week.

"Shh." Tikki ushered her to hide deeper in the bush, keenly watching the way Adrien's arms flailed about and he paced back and forth.

"Let's try this. My dearest lady and princess, as your humble knight and number one fan, it is with great honor that I gift you my heart."

Marinette's mouth opened in a scream but Tikki quickly snapped it shut. "Marinette, shh!"

"Mffphh!" Marinette's eyes grew as wide as dinner plates, moving back and forth between Adrien and Tikki.

"No! That's not good either! I'm not giving her an award!" The teen model sighed heavily, moving to sit down on the nearest bench. "I'll never be able to confess to her like this. She's so brave and strong, she can do anything. She's so amazing, what are the chances of her even liking me back?"

Marinette's expression softened. "He must be talking about Kagami..." Tikki nearly dislocated her head when she turned around to look at the girl.

"But Mari-"

A sigh. "I should've known, I guess his encounters with Chat Noir might've rubbed off on him and now he's calling Kagami princess too." 

Tikki flew in front of Marinette's field of vision. "No wait, Marinette, that's not what he-!"

Marinette smiled sadly, slowly standing up. "I think Adrien might need help with confessing his feelings for Kagami."

Just before her head peaked over the cover of the bushes, the name that fell from Adrien's lips froze Marinette to the spot. 

"Marinette..." his gaze was sad as it looked over the trees and into the sky. "You're so amazing, you're the strongest, smartest, bravest person I know, you're everyday Ladybug even when you aren't transformed, how could I hope for you to love me like I love you?" 

Tikki watched the way Marinette remained very still, her eyes unmoving as they locked on Adrien in the distance.

It was now or never.

Gathering all the strength she had, Tikki rammed into Marinette's side, pushing the startled girl out in the open.

With a surprised yelp, Marinette fell out of the bushes and onto her butt.

Her graceful landing made Adrien jump and his eyes widened when he saw her. "M-Marinette!?"

She felt heat rush to her cheeks at being caught spying on him, even more when he jogged to her side and helped her to her feet.

Why was Adrien so nice to her even after she spied on him confessing to her-

"Marinette? Marinette are you alright?" He waved a hand in front of the dazed girl's face, watching the way her eyes came back into focus and stared up into him. "Did you hurt yourself when you fell?"

The warmth from his hands on her shoulders made her squeak, she didn't even notice Adrien's blush at the sound before she took off in the opposite direction.

"Wh- wait Marinette! Where-where are you going!?" Adrien watched the girl sprint out of the park and in the direction of the Seine.

Had she heard him? Had she heard his lousy confessions?

With his heart in his throat and his blood rushing a mile a minute, Adrien uttered two words that never made him tongue tied. "Claws out!" 

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

No, no, no, no, no, no!

She had to have heard wrong! 

Adrien? Liking her back? No, no, no, no!

"Marinette, wait!" Tikki flew faster to keep up with the girl, she was a fast runner when she set her mind to it. "Why are you running away from Adrien? He was about to-"

Marinette violently shook her head, jumping over a trash can. "No, no, no Tikki, I heard it all wrong. Adrien didn't say my name, maybe he got confused and wanted to say 'Kagami' right? Ka-ga-mi. I mean, our names are kinda similar aren't they?" 

"Marinette!"

Marinette nearly tripped again when she heard another familiar voice yell at the top of his lungs her name.

Wait, was that-?

"Chat Noir?!" 

Sure enough, the black clad figure was jumping away from street to street, following her direction on his baton.

"Marinette!" He yelled again, waving his free arm frantically to catch her attention.

Had there been an akuma? Her akuma alert app didn't ring! Why was Chat Noir looking for her? Could he need something? Did he need love advice for Ladybug?

Marinette continued running, now close to the bridge where Andre always sold his ice cream at. "Sorry kitty! I dont have time to play with you today!"

She couldn't hear Chat Noir's muttered frustrated curses, nor did she see him speed up and take a giant leap, before he landed on the ground and took off running on all fours after her. 

Tikki hid back inside Marinette's purse, hanging on for dear life.  

It wasn't until Chat Noir's next yell made her stop in her tracks. "My lady wait!"

Standing frozen on the bridge, Marinett heartily turned around, just in time to watch Chat Noir try to catch his breath. 

He looked....angry? 

The cat stalked towards her with purpose in his steps before his placed his hands on her shoulders like Adrien did before and- "Why did you run away from me, m'lady?!"

Questions swam in Marinette's mind, questions that made her think she wasn't as sane as she thought she was.

Wait.

"Run away? From you? M'lady? Chat Noir, did you hit your head somewhere?" Marinette blinked up at him quizzically, sweating at Chat Noir possibly knowing her identity.

But how? She was always so careful! He never could've figured it out! 

The grip on her shoulders tightened. "Marinette!" He bared his teeth, and in a delirious moment, Marinette almost wished he would bite her.

To snap her out of her daydream!

"Eep!" 

"Claws in!"

"Claws in? What are you- A-A-" Marinette's breath caught in her throat and she was face to face with a displeased Adrien Agreste. 

His blonde hair which was normally perfectly combed was now messy and disheveled and Marinette could actually see the resemblance between Adrien and Chat Noir who stood in front of her two seconds ago!

"Wait, Adrien, what are- why are-? Chat Noir was here and you- you are now here!" 

She was going insane. Tikki should send her help.

Marinette.exe stopped working.

Adrien's expression softened and he sighed heavily. "Marinette," he gazed at her with such fondness and exasperation that she almost felt it was too intimate. "I know."

He didn't even have to elaborate. She was figured out. He knew her identity.

Her shoulder slumped. "But-But how? I was always so careful and- ugh! This isn't right! Now we have to give up our miraculous! Do you have any idea what Master Fu would think if he still had his memories? But I'm the guardian now! Does that mean I take both our miraculous? Would I just keep mine then? Where would I put them? Do I give us different miraculous? Will we still be heroes? What about Hawkmoth-"

Two warm hands found her cheeks and her attention immediately shifted to the forest green of Adrien's lovely eyes, which stared at nothing but at her. "Marinette, please listen to me m'lady." The sound of her nickname strangely calmed her and she exhaled the breath she'd been holding, some of the tension leaving her body.

Adrien took a deep breath, fingers flexing on her shoulders from frayed nerves before he finally looked at the girl of his dreams in determination. "I love you, Marinette Dupain-Cheng."

"I had these feelings for you ever since I gave you my umbrella and you were the first person to make me laugh again after mom disappeared. You were the one who was always so kind to me and did her best to help everyone all the time. What I told you at the picnic was nothing but the truth: you are our everyday Ladybug, you always were to me. And I'm so happy to know that the hero and the girl I fell in love with were one and the same! I know I made a lot of mistakes as Adrien and Chat Noir, and that I disappointed you often, but I want to make up for it in any way I can and be a better partner for you as Ladybug. My only question is if you would let me be a better partner for you as Marinette, too?" 

The sincerity in his gaze stole the breath from her lungs and Marinette couldn't help but tear up at the heartfelt confession that was meant for her. 

"Y-Yes! A thousand times yes kitty, my prince!" She fell into his arms with a cry of joy and Adrien fell to the ground from the force of her hug. Despite the small wince of pain, they both laughed in joy, cradling each-other's faces tenderly.

Adrien rubbed his nose against his lady's and smiled. "I love you Marinette."

The smile on Marinette's face was the warmest Adrien ever had ever seen. "I love you too Adrien."

[louiseleblancdiggory]

the last great american dynasty?

Ok...... So this is a little bit different from what I usually write but this is because it’s only the very beginning. This particular Rowan and Aelin’s story fits a bunch of TS songs, so I’ll have another part explaining their relationship since the beginning!! Enjoy this little thing tho

The Last Great American Dynasty

--

“Holiday house? This place looks like a tomb.”

“It has been closed for twenty years, that’s why.”

Kiara eyed her best friend, rolling her eyes at him. She knew that the mansion had been closed since her great grandma and great grandpa had died, and that no one from her family really bothered going there. Her grandma, Aurora, had spent her whole childhood in that house and when her parents passed away, it was too hard for her to move in once she inherit half of the house.

“No one from your family wanted it?”

“Not really.” Kiara replied distractedly, looking over the old furniture and paintings. “My parents passed away when I was young, and so I was raised by my grandma, but you already know all of that. When my great grandparents passed away, she was too hurt to even come back here. Granduncle Nino usually took care of everything, but I don’t think he ever stepped inside again. He died about five years ago.”

“And last year when your grandma died…”

“The house went for the last Whitethorn-Galathynius.” Kiara smiled at Gareth. “Me.”

He snorted, taking the sheets out of some tables and chairs in the house’s library. “Sometimes I forget your family is rich rich.”

“For generations. The wealth grew significantly when my great grandpa opened the GW industries and my great grandma became a famous artist.”

“Aelin Galathynius…” Gareth whistled, looking at one of the paintings. “Aelin Galathynius was your great grandmother.”

“The talent for painting certainly didn’t come from my father’s side of the family.”

“Aelin must be turning in her grave because of you comparing your shitty drawings with her beautiful sculptures and complex paintings.” Gareth joked, a saccharine smile on his face.

Kiara laughed, knowing that he wasn’t serious. Gareth had been her best friend since the first day of her freshman year in college. Now she was a junior and he was a senior, meaning that most of his time went to studying for the LSAT. Nonetheless, when Kia was notified about inheriting the Rhode Island mansion, Gareth didn’t hesitate in saying yes when she asked him to go with her.

She walked around, sweeping her fingers over the leather-bound notebooks on the bookshelf. They looked like journals of sort, and if Kiara decided to keep the house, maybe she would skim through some of them. She didn’t really knew if she would accept it, though. Yes, the house had been in the family for generations, but she also didn’t know if she wanted to come to Rhode Island and leave Pennsylvania.

Also, the house would need a lot of attention.

“She moved here at nineteen. She and my great grandpa, Rowan, eloped at eighteen and got married in Ireland. They moved here to avoid his family who was absolutely against their son marrying a snobby, rich wannabe artist.” Kiara grinned over her shoulder at Gareth. “Very scandalous, isn’t it?”

“Honestly, it explains so much about you.” He matched her grin. “Maybe being mad is in the genes of the women in your family.”

Kiara snorted, grabbing one of the small journals while Gareth took a bigger one. It looked like a sketchpad, and his eyebrows raised as he looked through it.

“I didn’t know she also drew. I knew about the painting and sculpting, but these drawings…” He murmured, looking through them with awe. Kia only half payed attention, focused on her own journal. She skimmed through it, stopping only when a photograph fell from it.

She grabbed it from the floor, eyebrows raising as she looked at it. It was black and white, even though it looked more brown because of the time. It was a woman, a small skirt and top hugging her lithe body as she rested against an old car. Her arms were spread wide, legs crossed. Kiara was almost sure that was Aelin, but she couldn’t be sure since her face had been cut. A heart shaped cut took her face and neck out of the picture, and Kiara swept her fingers along the edges of the heart.

“Where is her face?” Gareth asked, his attention leaving the skecthbook.

“In Rowan’s grave.” A female voice came from the door, and both Kiara and Gareth yelped. A red headed old woman was sitting at a wheelchair, her smile soft but not at them. At the journal and sketchbook. “He had a locket he always wore, her face was inside it. He wore since he was twenty-one when they met, and was buried with it. And you didn’t know that Aelin could draw because she didn’t do it for the public. Whatever drawing from her you find here, will be private and portray her husband.”

Kiara stared at the woman, her face familiar. However, Kia had never met her, so it was hard to remember from where she knew this woman. “You’re Evangeline. My grandma’s best friend.”

Evangeline nodded, gray strands catching the light. “Nino asked me to take care of the house after Aelin and Rowan died. Your grandma Aurora and Nino were my best friends since we were young, and the Whitethorn-Galathynius were my godparents.”

Kiara nodded silently, not really knowing what to say. Like her great grandparents, Evangeline had been someone she had never met, only heard stories.

Gareth, however, didn’t seem to have lost his words.

“How were they? I mean, everyone knows Aelin’s shameless and mad woman reputation, and Rowan’s serious businessman demeanor. Everyone knows about their tasteful and yet loud parties, about the time Aelin stole the neighbor’s dog and dyed it key lime green.” Kiara stared wide eyed at Gareth. She didn’t know he knew so much about her family’s story. Noticing her stare, he simply shrugged, turning back to Evangeline. “But how were they in private? Aelin was from St. Louis and Rowan was Scottish, weren’t they? How did the difference between cultures affect them? Were they actually in love?”

Kiara was about to tell him to shut the fuck up and stop bothering the old lady, but when she heard the last question, Evangeline smiled sentimentally. “I don’t think I have ever seen someone love another person as much as Aelin loved Rowan. Or as much as Rowan loved and worshipped her back. They both started a beautiful dynasty, and it doesn’t matter what others say about them, they adored each other unconditionally until their deaths.”

Kiara smiled a little at that. Her grandma had always told her stories about how her parents had loved each other. Since her childhood, Kiara had been looking for a love like Aelin and Rowan’s. They had eloped together in their early twenties and lived together in this house until he was a hundred and one and she was ninety eight. Aelin had died five days after Rowan passed, and although the doctors had said it was unrelated, both Aurora and Nino swore that she had died because her heart actually broke.

Swore that she had wanted it.

Had wanted to go spend the rest of eternity with him somewhere else.

Their love was too big for this life, her grandma used to say. There was no Aelin without Rowan, and no Rowan without Aelin.

“Would you like for me to tell you the whole story?” Evangeline said, approaching them.

Kiara was quiet, wondering if she wanted. Her grandma had always told her everything, but some part had been so vague…

“Our train is five hours away.” She said, taking a seat. “Why not?”

“Where shall I begin?” The old woman mused.

Gareth sat down too, crossing his arms and smiling. “From the beginning, please.”

Evangeline’s smile grew, excitement radiating off of her.

“Then from the beginning I’ll begin.”

To be continued with another TS prompt

Tags:

@in-love-with-caramel-macchiato @jlinez @courtofjurdan @aelinfeyreeleven945tbln @ladywitchling @lexflame @sleeping-and-books @annejulianneh111 @perseusannabeth @linshryver @mu-si-ca-l @camilamartinezdunne @dank-queen7 @minaidss @starborn-faerie-queen @booksofthemoon @loveofbooksandwine @jesstargaryenqueen @abookishfreak @faerie-queen-fireheart @morganofthewildfire @queen-of-glass @heirofthenightcourt @maastrash

[flightofaqrow]

📚💸

headcanon prompts ** accepting!

[ 📚 ] what books does your muse have on their bookshelf? what books would they like to have? if your muse isn’t an avid reader, is there anything they collect or might like to collect?

qrow doesn’t have a bookshelf. he and Tai do have a shared shelf of textbooks they held onto, as well as some updated versions for use as teachers; some of those are on shelves at the school too. grimm studies, applied theory, psychology, combat basics and advanced strategy, history, the fairy tales Oz deemed important, math books, biology books, geography, things like that. he also has some comic books stashed there. 

qrow does enjoy reading, but he doesn’t really hold onto the books. he’s an opportunist and a borrower, especially since that’s how he started with the tribe’s shared collection of books, and will also use the school libraries. 

there are some stories the tribe used to tell that he wished had some written copies, just so he could remember the full wording.

he enjoys crafting books, nature books, geography, historical fiction, romance, mysteries and spy novels, biographies, epics, tragedies, myths. honestly just way too many things. he likes knowledge, escapism, and relatable things that give him a sense of purpose in the world. whether he can actually internalize and apply the lessons in these texts, or just consumes for entertainment and then immediately brain dumps... is hit or miss.

[ 💸 ] if your muse had no shortage of money, what would they buy?

he kind of already doesn’t.

this man pulled a large sum of lien out of nowhere to clear Shiro Wan’s name. I know there’s a lot of going theories out there, but honestly, my hc is that when Qrow became Ozpin’s left hand huntsman, I think he stopped even getting a paycheck or being paid mission to mission. He just has access to something like a trust fund that taps into the working wealth that Ozpin must have accumulated over the years. 

he’s used to having to steal, forage, and murder for a living, then to study for room and board. he’s lived outside of an ‘economy’ for so long, and even remains on the outskirts of the typical lifestyle people would have once he joins a modern one, that he just... doesn’t grasp the concept of wealth or assets or ownership very well. he’s not a material person and continues to live as a wanderer. 

he’s a reactive, not proactive person. he very much responds to what’s in front of him. not that he can’t project into the future, but it’s still more in a sense of... starting with what’s right in front of him and what future outcomes might be. not being a visionary of “what if” somethings from nothing. this is a huge part of what makes him a follower and not a leader.

he already lives the lifestyle he wants, cost-wise. he’d for sure spend that money on other people. Get Tai whatever he wanted for the house. Try to buy Raven back with some sort of security. Spoil his nieces rotten. Donate. Give it to someone like Glynda or Robyn or Ghira who could use it for more targets programs of progress better than he could.

In that case, it might be nice. He could just buy his way into doing good for the world. One step closer to being Batman.

Well, okay. he might buy himself a little studio workshop to do his tinkering in without the risk of ruining Tai’s shed. or whole house. lmao. he might buy one of the same in each of the places he spends the most time in, or near the people he makes the most gifts for.

Or... I dunno. If there was a way to money a way into beating Salem, I mean, of course that would factor in. Giant death ray? Silver eye power-harnessing beam machine? Actually unbreakable eternal seal? shrug???

[bedbellyandbeyond]

Aki’s Arrival

(Story Post)

Sydryn sat patiently waiting in Diederich's apartment with Nari. The wizard, the demons, and Kardynkyr had gone through about an hour ago but time was not much of a worry for a dragon and a vampire. They shared the moment in silence. Sydryn took the time to flip through one of Diederich's many books. Nari pet Diederich's cat in his lap and stared off into space. They could be there for many hours more if the others didn't soon return. The wizard came through first, carrying a small bag of grocery's he'd gotten from a Seoul convenience store. He went over to Nari and placed a kiss on his cheek. “Have a good zone out?” Diederich asked massaging his boyfriend's shoulders. “Hm?” Nari looked up at him. “Yeah. It was fine.” “Are they coming through too?” Sydryn asked lowering their literature. “Yes, they're right behind,” Diederich assured.

A moment later, Kardynkyr stepped through the door in human disguise, hand in hand with another. The young person at their side had long purple hair, heart shaped freckles, and wore an oversized pink sweater. With one hand clasped with Kardynkyr’s, the other clung to their middle. Like Kardynkyr, they weren't visibly pregnant yet, even less so in their loose clothes. They looked frightened and melancholic. “Akiaziri the Soft.” Sydryn stood up and replaced their book on a bookshelf. They approached the purple dragon. “Did you travel well?” Akiaziri nodded quickly. “Yes… The demon teleportation was rough, but the portal is like nothing at all.” Diederich smiled taking it as a compliment. “Thank you very much. I take pride in my seamless portals.” Akiaziri bowed to the wizard. “Thank you for your craftsmanship.” Diederich blushed a little and Nari patted his chest. “Chill.” Akiaziri seemed to be having a hard time looking up at Syd and instead concentrated on the other dragon's feet. “Sydryn… Is it true you can help me?” “Akiaziri, I applied myself to medicine in the pursuit of knowledge,” Sydryn stated. “However, in that pursuit I took an oath to help those who need me the most. But, we can discuss this more when we get home.” “And you're okay with us staying in your home?” Akiaziri queried. Sydryn sighed. “You wouldn't be here if I wasn't… There are some house rules, but I'll go over them when we get there.” “Okay. Thank you.” Akiaziri nodded slowly. “You’re already wearing pink so I imagine you’re aware of the dress code already,” Sydryn stated. “Yes, Kardynkyr told me,” Akiaziri confirmed. “I like pink too though.” “Funny, the one who informed you of the code wilfully ignores it,” Sydryn scoffed. Kardynkyr shrugged. “These other dragons don’t hoard their colours like you and me. They can follow your rules.” Sydryn looked to Kardynkyr. “Did you at least do what I asked of you today?” “Oh, yeah.” Kard perked up and let go of Akiaziri's hand so they could pull out a thin black card from their pocket and hand it to Nari. “There you go, little vamp. Go nuts.” Nari took it and looked it over. It was sleek, shiny and had bit of heft to it. Embossed across the top were the words Arhiva Vampira and along the bottom Patronova propusnica. On the reverse side, there was a magnetic strip and a space with Nari's name written on it once in Hangul and once Romanised. “This is all I need then?” Nari asked. “Yep. Flash, swipe, or scan that and you can get anywhere you need,” Kardynkyr said. “It's a Patron's Pass, friend edition. You have access to anything I have access to. And if you run into any trouble, ask for Kobann here.” They patted the demon's chest. “Should I expect trouble?” Nari asked. Kardynkyr sighed and rubbed their neck. “I'm not gonna lie, the vamps that run it can be real dicks... But I'm having Kobann camp out there for a bit to make sure everything's smooth.” “Thank you. I appreciate it.” Nari pocketed the card. “Don't mention it. I funded that library specifically so vampires could share their history and knowledge,” Kardynkyr said. “It's yours. The only rule is you can't remove or copy any of the literature from the library. That includes photography and video but excludes note-taking.” Nari nodded. “Understood. Reference library.” Kardynkyr took up Akiaziri’s hand again and gave it a gentle kiss. “We should go so you can get some rest...” Akiaziri took back their hand quickly, blushing strongly. “Not in front of Sydryn!” “What? They know I love you,” Kardynkyr stated. “You have nothing to fear of Syd. They’re a big softie, aren't you Auntie?” Sydryn frowned. “I'm not at all sure I know what you're talking about, but you need not fear me.” “Either way, I’m not comfortable with that kind of touch...” Akiaziri said. “Not while I'm...like this...” “Alright, no kisses,” Kardynkyr promised. “Can I hold your hand, though?” “That's fine...” Akiaziri allowed. “No finger games.” “Of course not.” Kardynkyr offered their hand again for Akiaziri to take. “I don't want you to be uncomfortable. I just have the urge to kiss you whenever I set my eyes on you.” Diederich smiled beside Nari. “Dragons in love. I feel like I'm witnessing something very rare here. Correct me if I'm wrong.” “No, it truly is queer of our species, but the young will do what they want,” Sydryn stated. “Anyway, no offense Diederich, but the scent of some of your plants don't balance well with my nose. I'd like to get home. Best of luck to you both.” “Yeah, thank you for the help,” Diederich said, rubbing Nari's back. “Ora, Kobann,” Kardynkyr commanded. “Last trip for today. Get us back to Syd's.” Kobann touched Sydryn’s shoulder and they disappeared then Ora got behind Kardynkyr and Akiaziri to transport them. A moment later, Diederich and Nari were alone again in the wizard's apartment. “Dragons,” Diederich mused. “I never would have thought studying magic would lead me to meet not only one, but three dragons. The beauty, the horns, magnificent.” “You saw their dragon forms?” Nari asked. “When? In Seoul?” Diederich shook his head. “No, no, they never broke disguise. It's just these eyes, you know.” Nari smirked. “So, I imagine you can tell they're pregnant too then.” “Hell yeah. The colours are immaculate.” Nari chuckled. “Well, don't let them know you know. It's supposed to be a secret.” “I won't tell a soul.”

[theodora3022]

Goddess(Yandere Mirio)

Posting again because weird internet connection last night ate it...

Pairing: (yandere?) Pro hero! Mirio x Villain? F!reader

Summary: You were once a powerful young hero with a wind quirk. After refusing Endeavor’s proposal, you were blacklisted from the hero community. Having no choice, you begun to work as an assassin. Slitting throats without hesitation as long as it is lucrative. That is when you run into Mirio, your former classmate again. You two were not close friends, although mirio is always friendly. He was ordered to take you down, so you expected a fierce fight. What you did not anticipate is how he invited you to come with him.

Notes: Yeah this is a Mirio take on the “Fairy” concept. I recently recieved a request for this, and I just want to say I am so happy you guys love this stupid little concept. Mirio still have his quirk in this fic, and Sir Night Eye is still alive. Reblogs are comments are greatly appreciated!!

You can also see this contains an pathetic attempt to write Endeavor, but I’m not cut out for that LMAO

Warnings: slight nsfw for hcs, abuse of power(not Mirio), stalking, non-con touching, suicide attempt, drugging

They say the loveliest angels make the cruelest demons, and my darling

You were so beautiful

Before they dragged you into hell.

“You’re going to regret this decision.” That was what Endeavor said when you hand him the resignation with a straight face. However, You do not feel any regret whatsoever. You stayed silent as you began to walk out of that damned office, that courrpted agency. Paying no mind the flame man’s burning gaze on your back.

When you first started at Endeavor’s agency, you were excited. As a fresh UA Graduate, it is unusual for a top hero like Endeavor himself to offer you a position as a sidekick. It almost feels too good to be true. Well, turns out it is.

Used to loose clothing, you were shocked when your boss requested you to change your hero costume to a tight bodysuit. Being the good employee you were, you obeyed without questions. Then there are those little things, how Endeavor seems to favor you over his other subordinates, how he finds excuses to keep you near him at all times, most alarmingly, how he looks at your breasts and hips when he thought you did not notice.

You had doubts, but your boss is the No.1 hero! How can he possibly have sexual desires for a little girl like you? So you choose to ignore those red flags and carried on. Until he cornered you against the office door one day, when you came to report a minor robber you took care of earlier.

That is when you realize how you naïve you were. “Fire and winds, they go well together don’t they? I’m sure a child with those two quirks would be a powerful hero.” “Don’t touch me!” You said, almost screaming. He was pressed to a corner of his office by sudden strong currents, banging on the bookshelf that occupies it. Several books fell off, but he did not seem to bother. Even with his strength Endeavor cannot move forward a step. That pissed off look scares you, but you did allow yourself to flinch despite your trembling hands.

“You have no idea how many woman would die for an oppertunity like this.” 

“Then go find them, Sir. Sorry but I will never accept this offer.”

And that is how you ended up as a sellsword, instead of a hero. You work to get paid.

Your friends use to muse about how your impeccable speed would be perfect for an assassin, and that is what you are now. Slithering in the shadows, taking life for gold. Heroes and villains alike commissioned you due to your stealthy quirk and your incredible speed.You would not exactly count yourself as a villain, although the LoV had made offers to you in the past. You walk in that grey area of society, neither good nor bad. After Endeavor blacklisted you, no agency dared to hire you. None of them are willing to evoke his wrath. This is all his plan to make you submit, to accept the position of his compliant trophy wife, his personal baby factory. But you did not give in, even that means rejections and pity from those other heroes.  At last when your saving run out, you took up the LoV’s commission offer. The pay is generous, and you were in need. It is a win-win deal. Ever since you have been taking up jobs from both sides as long as the pay is good.

Your fifteen-year-old UA freshman self would never imagine becoming an assassin, but here you are, shaking hands with Kurogiri as you take the rest of the payment. They wanted you to join them, but you politely declined. You liked Toga and Spinner well enough, but some heroic part of you still cannot stand the idea of becoming a villain.

Regardless of being a mercenary, you still have your principles and morals. Aside from those contracts, you never took a life. You would still give up your seat to pregnant and elderly on the train, still picking up trash in parks. After finishing a job, you would hum little melodies as you pull the hood of your sweater over your blood-stained hair, fly home, maybe getting groceries on the way. You are merciful at what you do, always strike one lethal blow so the target would have minimal pain. Life is not easy, but you are certain this is so much better then being trapped in a manor as a housewife. Occasionally, some sketchy bounty hunter would manage to get to you, although you can always outrun them.

Mirio has a problem. It was...about a mission, concerning you.

What lies on his desk, is a detailed file of you. You in the picture were still a hero back then, smiling at the camera. How can Mirio ever forget that sweet smile?

“If I’m not mistaken, (y/n) is your old schoolmate, correct?” “Yes, Sir.” “She has been lending strength to the League of Villains as a mercenary. That makes her a criminal, even though she takes up jobs from the commission as well. We need to get her back to our side, as her winds are strong, we cannot let the villains have that. Endeavor seem to be particularly enthusiastic about this idea, oddly. I think you should be the one to do it. You can pass through anything, even her winds. Find her, bring her back, use force if possible.”

Mirio always wondered what made you leave hero life, now he got the perfect opportunity to ask you! He has not seen you in forever, this could be a little cute reunion! To be perfectly honest to himself, Mirio had a minor crush on you back w in UA. But as students you both just focused on your studies, and he never confessed.

It took him a while to track down your whearabouts, but for Mirio it was not a hard task, as the Commission has your address of the bar you frequented to take up offers.

It was a cold night, you just finished a job in the rural area of Mustafu, cleansing your daggers in a little stream in the woods when he appeared before you. Damn, how did he approach you without the winds noticing?

To Mirio, how you crouch down by the stream, how your black clothes hugs every curve of your body and especially how you focused on washing the bloodstains off your knives were absolutely stunning. You were like the huntress goddess Artemis from the Greek legends, with how the moonlight gently pooling over your frame. It might sound weird, getting turned on by a girl washing her daggers, but Mirio somehow accepts the fact that his juvenile crush has not gone away. On the contrary, it has become stronger, strong enough to be classified as love or obsession.

Now he knows why Endeavor has been so enthusiastic about the idea of capturing you. Mirio can hardly take his eyes off you himself! You were even more breathtaking in your pitch-black assassin attire compare to your hero costume. As he always loves a good mythology story, seeing you like this awaken something in him. A beautiful goddess, through and through.

You are his goddess! How can you taint your hands with blood while you can be worshipped in the temples? Being a mercenary does not suit you. 

“Togata, what a surprise.” Seeing your old classmate again, you are more concerned then happy. This is a remote location, far away from any population, and he just sneaked up on you without notice. He laughs as he sees how you work up a defensive wind barrier, knowing it has no effect on permeation. Back in your schooldays he has always been a pain to defeat, since Mirio can even pass through air, your usual push away methods fail on him alone. Thankfully, he cannot fly. “Long time no see. Well, what brings you to this part of town?” Putting away your daggers back into your leather pouch, you managed to put up a polite smile even you dreaded his answer. If he is one of those bounty hunters-

“I came to see you, of course! You are so beautiful in these clothes.” Without warning, Mirio stepped close, the wind barrier does nothing to him. If this has been a normal reunion party, his words might just make you flush a bit. But this is a secluded forest.

Before you can think of a counter strategy, two big strong arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you close towards the grinning blonde. You let out a scream as you try to wiggle out of his grasp, but it was futile. As a ranged combatant with high speed, strength was never your forte, neither is close up combat.

Why are you screaming? Don’t you see how he just want you to be treated well? This life is not for you! You deserve a loving family life, and Mirio is determined to provide that.

“Love, please do not scream. I don’t want to use a gag on you.” When you were distracted by his loving nickname, Mirio quickly slid a pair of quirk cancelling handcuffs on you.

“Let me go! Togata why are you doing this?” You are sure he has taken up the role of a bounty hunter. To your surprise, he released you from his clutches. But you were horrified to find your quirk has been restricted by those damned cuffs.

“Did Endeavor send you? I always know he is a piece of garbage, but you? Who can make my quirk useless?” Slowly backing away, trembling, you knew there is no change you can outrun Lemillion without your winds. Guess that is the end of free life. You rather be dead then be in Endeavor’s home. A quick slit can get the job done.

However, Mirio would never allow you to die. Before you can reach for your blades, he snatched the pouch out of your hands. “Endeavor? No, no. I’m not taking you to him. Don’t hurt yourself, angel.”

A wave of relief wash over you, then you hear Mirio’s words: “I’m taking you home, the commission has ordered me to make sure you don’t make any more deals with villains, and I agree. You deserve a peaceful life.”

Those are the last words you hear before blacking out from a strange, sweet scent. “Sorry to do this, my sweet, but you need to calm down and come home with me.”

As he held your unconscious body in his arms, Mirio promised himself that he will treasure you and give you the treatment you deserve. He finally found his goddess, he is not going to let go, never.

Bonus head canons:

You would wake up in Mirio’s fancy apartment, quirk cancelling collar around your neck, with mirio hugging you from behind in bed. His breath tickles your neck in the most terrifying way.

“Love, you’re finally awake! I was worrying about you overdosing.” That big smile, used to be a sign or reassurance during school days, now is a sight worthy for nightmares.

You would start kicking and screaming, wanting to get away from him.

“Togata let me go!” Your squirms are less then useless without your winds, but you have to try.

“It’s Mirio, lovely. Now how about we get you changed? I got you some pretty lingerie~”

You would shake your head and bite him, which...would result in him getting mad.

“I know it’s not right to use drugs, but you got to understand I did this all for you! That life is too dirty for someone like you, you deserved to be cherished. Lucky for you I am here to tend to all your needs.”

“But I- “ “No buts, sweetness. Now how about you get into one of those pretty outfits and show me how grateful you are? I did spare you that awful mercenary life, after all.”

You were not given a choice. Well, at least he cannot be worse then Endeavor, right? You can only gulp and comply, terrified of the alternative.

“My precious goddess...” He pulls you close, buring his nose in your hair. “I’m going to worship you so well that you forget about everything else.”

[talkfastromance4]

The Click-- Calum Hood (soulmate!au)

It’s here! I’ve never written soulmate stuff before so this is probably really different from what you’ve normally read, and it’s different from what I normally write but this really has a part of my heart in it.  Inspired by Lang Leav’s wonderful works (the poems up above) and some weird instances I’ve been having.

Word count: 5.6k

Warnings: none, no smut whatsoever (I know who am I?)

Son inspiration: Then I saw You by Tatiana Manois and Surrender by Natalie Taylor

donate to my ko-fi here :)

Masterlist

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. *copyright is listed at bottom*

• • • •

Two strangers both alike in mind have a book propped open with words inked in of love and heartbreak and other musings. They are alike because they mark their favorite poems by dog ears and highlights with little scrawls of their own thoughts scratched into the margins.

Late night for her, early morning for him as they’re on two different sides of the country, it’s not just miles that separate them, but the day and night. The moon comforts her and is her light as she reads of a love shared between two poets. The sun is his friend and a warm embrace as he delves deeper and deeper into the pages of the same love but tinged with an air of sophisticated provocativeness.

While on their Spotify playlists, the same artists and songs are shared between the two. Music and lyrics, words, and prose, two hearts longing for the same thing. 

A love to be written about, a love to be shared, an adventurous love that is unique because it is their own. In both their minds, that kind of love doesn’t seem tangible. To be added to their likeness, they’re both the only single ones amongst their friends and have been for a while. 

Calum showered his friends in love, giving his friends small gifts and helping in any way that he could. He was always down for a good time, sharing laughs and making memories. Rose was the same, she enjoyed being with her friends and family. 

In the daylight they appeared fine and well put together but going home to an empty house in a lonely bed is where they felt the weight of their ache. Sometimes it kept them both up, reading their poetry books or writing their own. His were songs while hers were just words but the premise was the same, dreaming of love. 

She received an opportunity of a lifetime to go to school for her writing. A quiet dream she’d held safe in the privacy of her own mind. It was thrilling yet terrifying moving to a whole new city, the city of angels. Her best friend stayed with her for a week helping her adjust in her new albeit small studio apartment.

It was a steal that was right above a coffee bookshop, a place where she’d also received a job. When she wouldn’t be in school, she’d be working to help pay for rent. While she unpacked and decorated her place, she kept pinching herself to make sure she wasn’t dreaming. 

When her classes started, she was up by 4 a.m. because of her nerves and her excitement, it bundled up inside her. She ran through her schedule three times, checked her bag that she had the right textbooks and her small laptop.

She read her favorite poems until it was time for her first class. The owner of the shop already had her coffee made to her liking with a cranberry orange muffin already in a bag. 

“Thanks Teresa,” she smiles, taking the goodies.

“Have a great first day! Do you want a picture with your bag?” Teresa is a kind, thirty-something year old woman. She’s living her dream owning a coffee bookshop and has the kindest smile. 

“I’m okay, don’t need a reminder I’m starting with kids fresh outta high school.”

“You’re not that much older, twenty-five is still young, Rose,” Teresa smiles. “Enjoy it.”

“Thank you,” she smiles then waves with her pinky. 

Her first day of classes is just how she thought they’d be, the awkward introductions that she rehearsed in her head before speaking, going through the itinerary for the semester and then reading a few chapters and taking some notes. Rose loved every minute of it. 

During lunch and her breaks, she reread through each itinerary again and bookmarks the pages in her textbook she’ll be needing. In between that, she reads her poetry book and jots down a few of her own thoughts. 

Then, the day is done and she starts her four hour shift at the bookshop that would last until closing time at 9:30. Rose quickly discovered that this would be a very easy job because it didn’t get a rush of people for dinner. 

Some other students she passed on campus would stop in with a friend and share a cup of coffee or tea. By 7:30 there were only a couple of people scattered about the shop, books, or tablets in front of them as the soft indie music played throughout. 

Rose gathers her books into her bag behind the counter before she moves to the bookshelf wall to restock the books left on the small wooden tables. She finds herself humming along to a song she knows when there’s a commotion outside.

The other guests inside turn to look as well through the windows framed in the purple and blue twilight shade to see a couple. They’re the source of the noise as both their voices rise over the other and when he throws his arms in the air that’s when Rose turns back to her task.

Clearly whatever was happening outside was a private moment and Rose couldn’t help but smile at the irony of the saying ‘outside looking in’ while she’s inside but was just looking into their outside debacle. Her mind always thinks of outlandish things like that, she calls it her circle thinking because she can run with the same thought over and over. 

It doesn’t make sense to others, but it does to her.

After a few moments, she glanced outside, and the couple was gone. The streetlights had flickered on and she could see stars poking through the darkened sky. She hopes she’ll see the moon upstairs. 

After the last guest leaves, she locks the door and sweeps up the shop, wipes down tables and locks the cash drawer in the small vault in the back. She checks that the back door is locked after tossing the garbage out quickly and runs upstairs to her studio apartment. She makes a cup of hot cocoa before bed and reads and writes into her favorite poetry book, her journal next to her. 

The hot cocoa made her sleepy and she fell fast asleep with her book atop her chest. She dreamed of someone that held a powerful connection with her, he understood her and made her smile. By morning, the dream slipped away with the stars and she started her new routine over again. 

***

Calum’s fingers tap impatiently on the laminate surface of the table as he sat through this meeting. It was mundane but necessary that he be here because the band had decided to take a year off. The world is still in recovery from the pandemic and they agreed collectively to hold off on anything until there was some decent footing again. 

He’s been in a bit of a mood since he and Zoe fought a few weeks ago after having dinner. They weren’t exclusive, only seeing each other on occasion and that night she brought up soulmates. She was almost nagging at him that he wasn’t hers and that they were wasting their time when he reminded her, she was the one to call him. 

He hasn’t heard from her since. 

His mind wandered throughout, thinking of ways he can occupy the next 365 days when he wasn’t writing music. Music is his life; it’s always been a constant and has pulled him through some tough situations and has uplifted him in joyous ones. On the TV stuck to the wall there was a news report scanning at the bottom that the university not too far from his home has the highest enrollment rate.

That piques his interest. He reads the closed caption below the broadcaster as it says open enrollment has become the new norm, welcoming students from all ages to attend. This information strikes a chord within Calum and he’s found what he wants to do with his year off. 

When the meeting had finally finished, Calum decided to head over to the university and see if he could still enroll. The semester started only a few weeks ago but with this new window of free time, he’s sure he could catch up. 

Enrolling turned out to be easy. He had a meeting with a counselor to discuss what his intentions were and if there was any specific study he wanted to get into. He selected creative writing and psychology, bought his books, got his schedule and he was officially a college student. 

The night before his first class, Calum is restless. He tosses. He turns. He stares out the window of his room, the moon winking at him through the small opening of the curtain. Duke is snoring softly to his left and Calum’s mind is racing. 

Thoughts tumble over one another, scenarios flash across his mind and then he hears a random melody in his head that sounds too familiar and it helps him drift off to sleep. 

***

Calum is racing to get to his first class, he didn’t wake up to his alarm until thirty minutes after the intended time and he blamed it all on a dream. A dream that felt so real he thought the woman in his subconscious was still speaking to him in his ear. 

He threw on the first article of clothing his fingers touched, gargled with mouthwash, and shoved a beanie on his head. Regrettably, he didn’t have time to stop for coffee and he hoped there would be some sold on campus somewhere. 

Calum just got settled into his seat at the back of the lecture when the Professor stood at the front and began to speak. Thankfully, Calum retrieved notes from the three weeks he missed and read them all weekend, so he picked up easily with what the Professor is talking about. 

He smiles to himself, maybe he is cut out for school. 

Calum is surprised how drained he feels after his first day. His head is swimming with new knowledge and he’s anxious to get home and get to work. On his walk back to the parking structure where his car is parked, he sees the coffee bookshop he and Zoe fought in front of almost a month ago. 

The sign above the bay window reads ‘CBS’ and in smaller print below that it reads ‘coffee bookshop’ and he smiles at the simple cleverness. He remembers Ashton has gone in there a few times and said the coffee is great. Calum makes a promise to himself that he’ll stop there tomorrow morning before class to grab a cup.

His night is spent reading over the homework and answering a few of the discussion questions while Duke sat in his lap. Calum tried writing down the lyrics of the song he heard this morning, but he couldn’t distinguish what they were. To wind down, he had his favorite Michael Faudet book propped on his stomach as he read through each page.

He reads through his own writing; his words transport him to that point in time when the words flowed out of him effortlessly. One poem resonates in his mind as he reads about love being compared to that of a rose and the lilting melody from this morning trickled into his ears again and he instantly relaxed. His mind quieted and his eyelids felt heavy as he replayed the same simple notes over and over. 

A beautiful melody without any words.

The loud vibration of his phone woke him up before the actual song did, but he leapt out of bed immediately. The promise of a hot cup of coffee egged him on to take a shower and dress in something nicer than a wrinkled band shirt he had on yesterday. 

Traffic wasn’t that bad, and he parked his car on the first level of the structure and he still had forty-five minutes until his first class. Today is shaping up to be the start of a good one and just as he locks his phone so he can open the door of the CBS, he collides with a body. 

Books go flying. His phone clutters to the ground and he panics at the fatality that could be evident in the million cracks of his screen. Rushed ‘sorry’s’ are exchanged between him and the stranger as they scramble to gather their things. Their bodies twist away from each other as he shoves his books and pens back into his bag. 

When he stands to apologize again, she’s already bustling away, her red scarf blowing behind her in the morning breeze. He sighs then heads inside to examine his phone, but he looks back again to try and get a glimpse of her face. She’s already gone. While they were scrambling to get their belongings, he noted how the smell of coconuts, vanilla, and something else he couldn’t put his finger on, invaded his nostrils. It made him think of the ocean.

He examines his phone to find there isn’t a scratch on it and when he unlocks it there’s a picture of the poem he read last night. Roses. The girl he bumped into smelled of roses. 

***

Rose is having an off day. Her alarm didn’t even go off and she put in a generous amount of dry shampoo in her hair but resulted in putting on a hat. She didn’t even have time to get her coffee and muffin from Teresa for she rushed out the front door and collided with some guy. 

Without her coffee it was hard for her to focus and when she got called on in class, she had to ask the professor to repeat the question because she didn’t hear it. Then her laptop crashed, and she couldn’t work on an assignment that’s due by Friday. 

By the time she made it to CBS, she didn’t want to work her shift. Customers were being needy and rude and all she wanted to do was take a hot shower and read. After eating a quick microwave dinner, Rose took a hot shower then turned on her favorite playlist titled ‘Blue’ for moments like this. 

She opens her bag to grab her poetry book, ‘The Universe of Us’ but finds its exact counterpart of Lang Leav; Michael Faudet’s book ‘Cult of Two’ lays on her table. 

Did she put that in her bag by mistake? 

It was a rough morning so it is possible, but she could have sworn she grabbed the book from her bedside table. Sighing, Rose takes the book to place it back on her shelf then becomes more confused when she sees the same book in her hands, perched snugly on the shelf with her other poetry books. 

Rose knows she only has one copy, so where did this one come from and where is her book? She tosses the white paperback onto her bed and empties her whole bag, checking each book twice. How could she have lost it? It’s always buried safely in the bottom of her bag and she didn’t take it out all day except--

Rose gasps. This morning when she was leaving the shop she bumped into a guy and all their belongings went flying. She must have grabbed his book by mistake, and he grabbed hers. Panic sets in, she’s written down some of her innermost thoughts in that book, personal things.

Now this random stranger has her soul in his hands, and she might never see him again. With angry tears in her eyes she crawls into bed while Lewis Capaldi’s voice thrums around her walls. Needing comfort, she opens the strangers’ book then snaps it shut just as fast because there’s handwriting on the pages. 

Just like hers.

***

Calum is reading about the red string of fate. After that run in with the girl outside CBS a month ago, he read through her book and became transfixed with those words she wrote down. He knows he shouldn’t have read her thoughts, but once he started, he couldn’t stop. Clearly the poetry captivated her, but her words captivated him.

The red string of fate is a Japanese legend meant to tie soulmates together by their pinkies. No matter the circumstance, the time or place, the two will always find each other. It may stretch and it may tangle but it will never break. He’s never heard of it before now, but he’s become obsessed with the idea of it. 

Every morning he’s stopped by CBS to see if he’ll run into her again so he can return her book, but he’s never seen her. His classes are going well and he’s learning so much, his creativity is overflowing. Much of that is because of this girl’s book. 

Its spine is overly creased from endless love of reading, some words are highlighted and circled. Pages are dog eared on what he assumes are her favorite poems. Calum smiled the first time he paged through it all because he’s written in his book as well. He wonders if she’s read any of his musings yet. 

“Bro, I haven’t seen you without that book. Where’s yours?” Ashton asks while they’re out for lunch. 

“Um, I lost it actually. I bumped into this girl outside the CBS and our things scattered everywhere. We switched books,” Calum explains flipping the pages. “She writes it in like I do.”

“You read it? Mate,” Ashton sighs exasperatedly, “that’s an invasion of privacy.”

“I know, I know! But I can’t get enough of it. She’s smart and passionate in what she writes. I wish I got a better look at her when I bumped into her so I could return it.”

“There’s no name inside?”

“Nope. She could be in one of my classes for all I know,” Calum sighs then picks away at the corner of the cover. “What was it like when you and Ruby found each other?”

Ruby is Ashton’s soulmate and they’ve been together for almost two years now. Calum remembers the change in Ashton when she came into his life, he was lighter. 

“I heard her voice in my head.”

“What did she say?”

Ashton smiles, “My name.”

“Then how did you find her?”

“I don’t know, it’s hard to explain,” Ashton’s brows crease. “It was only a few days after I heard her voice that I knew her name. It came to me out of the blue. Do you remember anything about her?”

“She had on this red scarf and smelled like a rose.” Calum suddenly felt a wave of dizziness swim in his head and he held onto his temples.

“You okay?” Ashton reaches over as if to help but he’s not sure what’s happening to his friend. 

“Woah, that was weird, I got super dizzy,” Calum says blinking a few times until he can see straight again. He removes his fingers from his temples and Ashton is giving him a funny look. “What?”

“What did she smell like again?” he leans forward.

“A rose, why--fuck!” the wave of dizziness crashes into him again and it’s like his brain is spinning in his head. When his vision returns Ashton is smiling gleefully. “Glad to see you enjoy my pain.”

“Don’t you see?! You got vertigo as soon as you said rose. That must be her name.”

“Really? Is that what happened when you said Ruby’s name?”

“Yeah basically, but it wasn’t this strong. She must be close,” Ashton looks around him as if she’ll appear out of thin air. “I suggest going to CBS morning and night, she’s gotta be there at some point.”

***

Rose is flicking through the pages of the new poetry book she acquired. Curiosity killed the cat and she just had to dig her claws between the pages because she’s sure he’s already done the same or will soon enough. 

Some of his thoughts left her breathless and with an odd familiar feeling at the way it’s structured. Some of his sentences seem more like lyrics that she’s heard before but can never find the tune that goes with it.

She hadn’t been feeling well this morning, nausea and dizziness made her skip her classes and she laid in bed all day. It would come and go throughout the day and right before bed she drew herself a bubble bath with some candles. The flickering light created the perfect ambience while she read Faudet’s words and the mysterious stranger. 

Where her notes are written in paragraphs or stanzas, his are scattered about the page. Sometimes she has to turn the book to read it upside down. The curse words make her laugh and sometimes there’s a fun little drawing. 

It isn’t until she reaches the last few pages and she’s reading about a blue angel and knocking back a shot when she stumbles on a name that is not the author. It’s a name she’s heard before, a name she’s known of and has seen floating around her social media.

“Calum Hood,” she mumbles, and she instantly becomes dizzy again. It happens so fast it startles her, and she nearly drops the book into the bubbles. Somehow in her bewilderment she managed to let it flop onto the bathroom floor. 

The bathwater and bubbles slosh over the sides as she reaches for the book again. Did she read that right? Her fingers leave dark, pudgy circles on the pages as she goes to that page again. 

“Calum,” she breathes, and the room spins again causing her to drop the book once more. “Okay, okay, okay, okay. . .”

Rose gets out of the bath quickly, letting the water drain noisily as she dries off and puts on her pajamas. The spinning has stopped, and she sits cross legged in the middle of her bed, the poetry book open to the poem and her phone opened to Instagram and Twitter.

She’s been an avid fan for quite a few years now and to think if he was the one, she bumped into? With her thumbs hovering over the keyboard she closes her eyes trying to remember anything about him from that morning. 

All she can remember is the rush to gather her things and his soft husky voice as he said sorry. She didn’t look at him once and it’s very possible she bumped into Calum Hood. Her mind racing, she texts every one of her friends that have already found their soulmates asking what and how it happened. 

She needs answers because how odd is it that she’s felt dizzy and nauseous all day then sees his name, says it, and gets dizzy all over again? Is that what’s supposed to happen? Does this mean he’s been saying her name all this time as well? 

Her friends' responses were pretty much the same. In each instance they heard his or her voice in their head say their name. Why hadn’t she heard his voice? Could he hear hers? Rose unlocks her phone and searches his name, turns out he’s gone back to school. The same school she’s attending but it doesn’t say what he’s studying, which is good because it must be annoying having everyone know what’s going on in your life. 

Rose falls back onto her pillows burrowing under the covers and shuts off the light. 

“Please let me go to school tomorrow, Calum,” she huffs then turns over to hug her pillow. 

She swears she hears a ghostly laugh in her ear before sleep consumes her. 

***

“I bite back.”

Calum still hears the soft voice from his dream, he can still feel the soft brush of her lips against his ear as she said those words. He’s staring up at the ceiling replaying the dream of sitting next to a girl. In his subconscious it felt like he already knew her, and they carried a conversation well. He doesn’t remember exactly what he was saying but he can hear those three words as if she were laying right next to him. 

He greets Duke with quick kisses before letting him outside and Calum washes his face, brushes his teeth, and gets dressed. After he brings Duke in, Calum gathers his bags making sure The Universe of Us is right at the top. 

He’s been going to CBS early each morning so he can sit and try to watch for the girl he bumped into. He has one cup of coffee and reads through her pages until it’s time to go for class. A few times he thought he recognized her, but the girl in question always turned out to be just a fan and wanted a quick chat and photo. 

They never smelled like roses, so he knew it wasn’t her.

After his final sip of coffee, he flips to a page with the title ‘The One’ and he immediately goes to the girl’s handwritten words. 

‘And I want you to be the one for me. The one who brings out my storm but also calms the waves. I want you to be my perfect counterpart. Is my red string frayed?’

Calum smiles at the last sentence. He wishes he could tell her that no, it isn’t frayed and he’s trying his damndest to find her. He gathers his things and heads out the door because his first class is starting in fifteen minutes.

Just as he walked out the door, if he would have waited one more minute, Rose came by his table and cleaned up his dishes to help Teresa out before she went on her way to class. 

“How are you feeling today Rose?” Teresa asks, taking the dirty dishes from her. 

“A little better,” Rose shrugs, “I can’t miss two days. Are you sure it’s alright I can switch my shift from tonight to tomorrow?”

“Of course. You need to catch up on what you missed, Colbie will cover for you. Take it easy, you still look a little pale,” Teresa frowns. 

“I’ll be fine, but thank you,” Rose smiles then waves. “I’ll see you later.”

***

The day runs as normal for them both. Calum has felt this growing energy within him as if something is about to happen, but he can’t quite put his finger on it. He’s been looking at every woman he passes waiting to see if there’s a connection or a siren that will go off as if to say “that’s her! That’s her!” but he comes up short. 

Rose still feels a little queasy throughout the day and she’s distracted because all she wants to do is read Calum’s poetry book to try and find another connection. 

When the school day is over, she sets up her workspace at her favorite table by the bookshelf in a large, plush chair. Her own latte sits next to her while she quickly does her homework and opens the book. From the corner of her eye a tall figure sits in the chair on the other side of the table. She pays it no mind until there’s a loud crash.

The stranger knocked her cup to the floor, and it shattered, white foam and coffee filling up the grooves in the tile. 

“Shit, I’m sorry--”

“It’s okay,” she says automatically. 

They both reach for the largest fragment of broken cup; their pinkies touch and Rose feels something click inside her. Her skin is hot where he touches her, and with her heart pounding like a thousand horses running, she looks up. 

He knew who she was before he looked into her eyes, when they came in such proximity, he smelled the roses and the coconut and the vanilla. When their pinkies touched, he felt a spark shoot up his veins, that’s the siren he’s been waiting for and when he looked into her eyes? Everything clicked into place.

“Rose?”

“Calum?”

They both laugh nervously, their pinkies still touching. Rose feels her cheeks warm and Calum can’t stop smiling at her. After their small moment, they clean up the mess of the broken cup and sit back in their respective chairs. 

“I think this is yours,” she holds out his book that she was currently reading. 

“And I believe--” he pulls out her book from his bag holding it up “--this is yours.”

Having it in her possession again makes it feel like a lost limb has been returned home. Calum flips through his own book noticing the wrinkled pages. He knows she read it and he’s so glad she’s the one who did. He watches her rifle through the pages, soft fingers tracing over words that have been printed and words she’s inked in herself. 

“You’re a wonderful writer,” he comments, and her eyes flash up to him.

“You are too, but you’re a musician so that’s no surprise,” she giggles, and Calum loves the sound. 

Talking comes easily between Calum and Rose, but how could it not when they’re soulmates? As the night gets longer and the shop is about to close, Rose invites him up for some tea and he gladly accepts. 

While she’s setting up the kettle, he examines her bookshelf, some books he’s read, and others grab his attention that he wants to ask her about. Soft music fills the room and he smiles because this is on one of his playlists as well.

“How do you like your tea?” she asks, and Calum moves back to the kitchen area. 

“Little bit of milk and honey and some sugar,” he smiles, watching her add the ingredients.

Their fingers brush again when he accepts the cup from her, another spark ignites but it starts a different type of warmth. Calum becomes very aware of both their actions. He’s aware of how close she sits next to him on the couch, he’s aware of the way she licks her lips and how badly he wants to kiss them. 

“So, this is . . . a little crazy, right?” she laughs awkwardly, her finger circling the rim of the mug. “How did you find me? Did you hear my voice? Because I didn’t hear yours.”

“What did you experience then?” he asks, setting his mug on the small table in front of them. 

“I was home for a whole day because I just felt really dizzy and nauseous, then when I was taking a bath and reading your book, I saw your name, said it out loud and had another dizzy spell. I think I dreamed of you, too. . .” her brows furrowed in confusion.

Calum tries not to let her small tidbit of information that she was in the bath when she said his name get to him, but he knows exactly what she’s talking about. He was at home playing with Duke when he felt another wave of dizziness hit, it came upon him so fast that he practically fell onto the couch. It felt different then when he said her name, it was stronger. 

“I’m sorry, when I discovered your name, I kept saying it,” he admits fiddling with one of his rings. 

“How’d you find out my name?” 

“I was talking with my friend, Ashton and I told him about the day we collided and how you smelled like a rose. You know what’s funny? When we said each other’s name downstairs I didn’t feel dizzy, did you?”

“No, I didn’t,” she shakes her head then looks at him, “what does that mean?”

“I--” he stops short when the song shifts, and he gasps. “I’ve had this melody stuck in my head for weeks, is this you singing?”

“Absolutely not,” Rose laughs and rises from the couch to turn it up on her phone. “It calms me down, so I play it a lot. What was--oh!”

She spun around and Calum was standing right in front of her. She didn’t realize how tall he is until right now and the scent of his cologne and laundry detergent reminds her of a home she’s come back to. 

“I have an idea as to why we didn’t hear each other’s voices,” he says, stepping even closer. 

“What’s that?” Rose licks her lips.

“We feel things, and instead of vocalizing them, we write them down or listen to it in music,” he tucks her hair behind her ear. “Even the books we read the authors are in love.”

Rose chuckles at that. “Yeah, what are the odds they’re our favorites?”

“Pretty high, since we were made for each other,” he smiles. His fingers tickle her cheek as he tilts her head up, her eyes are shining, and the smell of roses invades his senses. He inches his mouth closer to hers, “I’m ready to surrender to this, Rose.”

She nods and closes the small space between their lips and it’s as if everything stops. The only thing she can feel are his soft, warm lips on hers, the calluses of his fingers on her cheek and the way his other hand wraps around her waist. He pulls her close and she grabs hold of his shirt, kissing him is like a breath of fresh air. 

He pulls her even closer, chest against chest and she gasps at the movement but welcomes his tongue excitedly. They kiss feverishly, as if this is the only time they have. But they have many more days and many more moments to make memories of. 

They’re breathing heavily when they break the kiss, she feels him smile against her lips and gives her two soft pecks. 

“Calum?”

“Hmm?” his thumb strokes her cheek affectionately.

“You made my world stop spinning.”

• • • •

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