#but as daily void once said. we can only be sure that both of them stopped caring how old they actually were once they realized they don't-

[psychicthepsychic-daily]

Void is most likely older than Psychic, going off of their canon ages (aka very vague ranges spanning centuries ;-; thanks river and star)

but I feel like mentally Psychic is probably older than Void. like Void is mentally in his mid twenties in canon, plus he spends his mod acting like a petulant middle schooler, so.

meanwhile Psychic gives the vibe of a jaded adult in his late twenties to early thirties. definitely more mature but somehow still just as insufferable as Void. just. in a different way lmao

[linksthoughtbrambles]

Thought I'd give you a one word prompt for any of the Zelinks: Ghost.

@nocturnalfandomartist, thank you, thank you, thank you for this prompt. This astonished me more the more I wrote - and I couldn't stop writing. It may be longer than you bargained for at 9K words, but I enjoyed writing every single word of it. I will write at least one follow-up. This is a canon-compliant sequel to What to Expect When Fetch-Questing and a loose sequel to The Seeds of Love, Well-Worn and What Once Rang Hollow (with a few continuity differences for that last one) but it can stand easily on its own. Rated T, post-TotK, humor, drama, and romance. Also available to read on ao3.

Eternal

Link was extremely pleased he had his own arm back.

Unfortunately, he was the only one.

Purah (“Are you fricking KIDDING me?! I wanted to study that thing!”), Robbie (“I must repair my balloon myself?!”), Impa (“Mmm—a pity. With it, we might have learned how to create our own constructs—perhaps incorruptible ones.”), Paya (“That’s too bad, Link—it looked good on you!”), Tauro (“Ahhh. I’m sure you’re feeling better, but I was hoping I could learn more of the Zonai language from it, somehow.”), Calip (“It’s gone?! What did you do with it? You should’ve given it to me as an expert in these matters!”), Sidon (“My dearest friend! Where has your adult arm gone? Are you well?”), Yunobo (“Oh NO, Link, you lost your cool arm!”), Tulin (“Oh mannn. You still have my pledge, Link, but I don’t think I should just…slap my rune on your body. We gotta get you some rings or something.”), and Riju (“I didn’t expect you to look so much smaller without it.”), not to mention every single member of the monster control crew, and essentially anyone in Hyrule who ever recognized him, all thought he’d been better off with part of Rauru grafted onto his body.

Even Zelda wasn’t (entirely) an exception.

She did appreciate Link’s hands during their personal time (“I must admit, Link, I’d have felt strange were you doing this with a Zonai’s hand rather than your own”), but the scholar and sovereign in her definitely mourned the loss of such a unique artifact.

“Link, is there any chance you still share a psychic connection with Rauru?”

“Nope,” he said.

She blinked at him.

“Sorry,” he said, blushing and sheepish.

Now that the depths, sky, and newfound caverns had created vast opportunities for exploration, research, and innovation, Zelda’s original aim of rebuilding Hyrule had essentially tripled. She and Link knew if they didn’t make depths exploration and settlement official, people would do it on their own and get themselves killed (or the Yiga would claim it, and Hyrule would be threatened again in a few centuries). So it was, indeed, official as were new initiatives to investigate Zonai technology—making the Great Abandoned Central Mine one of several hubs of Hyrulean activity in the depths. Its proximity to the healing spring directly beneath the Shrine of Resurrection had made it a frequent destination of theirs.

Link and Zelda materialized beneath the Koradat Lightroot to the weighty vertigo of silence in the dark beyond the root’s oasis.  It was the same every time—some quiet dread sinking into the deepest pit of Link’s belly, the hairs on the back of his neck standing on end.  He kept telling himself it would be better once people settled, with their warm lights and the sounds that come with them going about their daily business.  Zelda kept telling him otherwise. (“We oughtn’t fill this place to the brim with light, Link. We would disturb its ecosystem severely”).

Link was usually on board with leaving nature undisturbed for the most part.

Maybe it was the time he’d spent down here in utter silence but for his own footsteps, utter darkness but pale flowerlight shot into a black so matte it may as well have been death’s void; the pressure of vast expanses of pitch-black felt nothing like a sea of undisturbed trees far above in the light.

There wasn’t even any wind.

Were both nature? Yes. Were both natural?

It didn’t feel like it.

“Shall we?” Zelda said.

It severed Link’s fledgling reverie. He tore his eyes from the lightless maw beyond Hylia Canyon and turned to join Zelda in descending the steep slope on the path toward the Great Abandoned Central Mine. He gave her a small smile, though he knew, from her face, it didn’t reach his eyes.

Her return smile did. “I hear one of our survey teams discovered another root in that direction,” she said. “We merely- ah- well-“

“Have to figure out how to light it up without my arm,” Link said.

A hint of pink dusted Zelda’s cheekbones. “Yes. Sorry, Link.”

The mine’s central structure loomed in the distance, its light cold, the highest statue of the ancient Gerudo sage always watching, an intimidating glower over the hilt of her sword aimed at any who would ascend the formidable stair toward its main entrance.

“Hello, Aratra,” Zelda whispered, as she always did, as though the woman herself could still answer her.

As they neared the bottom of the hill, blue flickered in Link’s vision. “Zelda,” he said, pointing to the small cluster of poes coming into view on the left.

The spectre of that intimate grief between them passed over her face as she nodded.

He didn’t say it wasn’t her fault.

Since he didn’t say it, she didn’t say it could be.

The words floated between them, spoken so many times they’d become an immutable understanding: that she’d been too slow, that he’d been too silent, that they’d both been too obedient to the long-dead king whose grave Zelda still brought blue gentians to in the early days of each summer.

That neither of them blamed the other for it.

That they’d both spend the rest of their lives making up for it.

And that they’d do it together.

Neither of them knew whether the spiritual flames were casualties of the Calamity.

Link only knew the vague sense of relief he felt when they entered him. It felt like they felt safe—sometimes, he even sensed joy—and they clung to him so hard.

They clung to Zelda, too, it turned out.  As they approached, the spirits snapped eagerly into whichever of them was nearest, nestling somewhere unfathomable within them until released to a bargainer’s care. Link still didn’t trust the bargainers, exactly, though they intended to visit the one in the mine that day.

They didn’t talk much. They usually didn’t when sliding through the depths’ silence—sound felt like a beacon to whatever might be beyond the lightroot’s reach; yet they moved in unwavering agreement, sweeping up every poe in their path and off it within sight. It’s why they took the long route to every work site.

They veered far off the path at one point to collect a dozen wayward souls atop a half-buried ruin of a toppled archway.

“If we go much further, we’ll be at the spring rather than the mine,” Zelda said.

“Yeah,” Link answered quietly. They turned to rejoin the path further up, hugging the rounded base of a monumental column presumably carved by nature, reaching the impossibly high ceiling of what was far, far too large to consider a mere cavern. It was like a space willed into existence by the gods themselves.

Link’s mood lifted as the sounds of civilized activity reached him, more and more distinct as they neared the foot of the quadruple-flight of stone stairs beneath the statue’s feet. Link caught a glimpse of a Sheikah scientist, little but a few motes of color on the highest level of the structure, cheerful construct “Brrrp!”s reflecting toward them off any of hundreds of stone facades: every surface the same pale grey—every light cool and lifeless.

Link couldn’t imagine living in such a place. With an irritated grind of his teeth, he realized he strongly preferred the haphazard Yiga structures, with their paper and oil lights and bound wood. The real, green-leaved brightblooms were also better than the Zonai’s artificial torches.

“Rupee for your thoughts,” Zelda whispered.

Link huffed. “The place needs some color.”

She paused on the stairs, a third of the way up, her torso shaking with laughter and her hand squeezing his tight.

Link tried not to smile. He didn’t want her to think he liked being laughed at.

“Link,” she said, holding her stomach, “that is…precisely the sort of observation I ought to expect you to make.”

He really tried to keep a sour grimace on, but he knew his lips were going twitchy.

“Unfortunately,” Zelda said, eyeing his lips with suspicion, “I am no longer in a position to pass on your criticism of Zonai décor.”

Link snorted. “Neither am I. But I definitely would’ve said something to Rauru if I’d seen this before he disappeared.”

“I have no doubt! And truly, you’re right. I cannot imagine spending any great length of time down here with nothing but grey stone and white light.”

Link nodded. “At least not without experiencing crushing environmental depression.”

Zelda inclined her head, no longer laughing. “Indeed. It makes one wonder.”

“Wonder what?”

“…Whether the monsters find it as unpleasant as we do,” she said, her eyes sweeping the far-off dark.

Link let that one sink in as they made the landing. Zelda touched the dais on which her old ally stood with reverence. When her hand slid from the porous stone, they continued up the staircase on her right. The chamber below would wait until later.

They ascended among tents clustered on the flagstones before the forge, lining the walls both natural and Zonai-made right up to the great arch.  They littered the circular courtyard on the other side of the building, too, the royal crest and symbols of the Sheikah, Zonai Survey Team, and Gerudo adorning many. The familiar sound of a fan whirred somewhere above them, out of sight.

It had been quite a stroke of luck, really, that Link had activated these facilities before Rauru’s arm vanished. The constructs had still recognized him as their “primary authorizer” and he’d been able to grant access to others.

He admitted, though, it was getting cumbersome; the moment he saw Ponnick, he knew he’d run out of time to think about Zelda’s monster-wonderings.  He flagged Link down (as if Link wasn’t looking straight at him) with arms wild above his head. “Thank the skies you’re here, we have new recruits!”

Link then spent the obligatory hour introducing them to all the constructs in the facility.

Zelda had her own work in store for her. Between decisions regarding distribution of newly acquired zonaite and reports from the excavation, inventory, innovation, and engineering teams, she easily had a full day of deliberation and arbitration ahead. Link joined her for much of it once he’d fulfilled his authorization duties—after all, he’d become something of an amateur engineer himself. It was nice to have something scientific to contribute when talking with Zelda.

“You can totally build a wing/hot-air-balloon hybrid!” he’d said.

 “Link, that sounds quite impractical-“

“No, no, you don’t put the balloon in the middle, you put it on the nose at an angle, see?  Then it drags the wing upward.”

“L- Link- what of the flame needed?“

“Oh, no, it’s fine, you only get burned a little bit.”

“What?!”

“And you still put the fans on the back, you know, to help out. Oh, and the steering stick.”

“Link, forgive me, but the flame shall not be directed straight up. It is inefficient and unsafe.”

“Yeah but the LIFT!”

He’d quite liked his flaming plane. So had Robbie.

Today, the engineering talk had more to do with shoring up mining tunnels, which while important, did not require Link’s particular flair for incendiary devices. All their talk of angles, sines, and cosines seemed a bit more precise than his higgledy-piggledy constructions to hold up Addison’s signs, so he eventually left them to it, jogging instead to the rim of the courtyard, climbing up, and inviting all the poes newly showing themselves to join him—then scouting for more from his higher vantage point. He’d grown used to the quizzical looks from everyone else but Zelda.

“What?” he’d asked as Ponnick watched him jog, zig-zagging, in a roughly circular area covered in pale grey and lavender fungi.

“What are you doing?”

“Collecting the poes,” Link said.

“Poes? Where?!” Ponnick spun, wildly searching for spirits which glowed blue, plain as day, in Link’s vision.

At least Zelda could see them, too.

On balance, between the poes, soldiers’ spirits, koroks, Hestu, and the dragons of the springs, he’d have presumed himself insane if no one else ever saw what he saw.  He almost had after the ghost of King Rhoam disappeared right in front of his face in the Temple of Time: an insane amnesiac with delusions of heroism.

Except they hadn’t been delusions, because he’d killed the crap out of Ganon.

Twice.

Or, of course, he imagined it. Twice.

Link shook his head. No point going down that route. If he imagined that, he imagined everything, and if that was the case he might as well relax and start attaching rockets to every exhausted korok’s backpack like that one by Outskirt Stable.

Poor little guy. At least he made it the eleventh time.

He huffed to himself. Sometimes, Zelda thought he was a little nuts. He supposed he could see why.

As a particularly large poe with a bright pink fringe zzipped its way into his body, Link caught a wink of blue between boulders at the stone circle in the distance to the north—a small zonaite deposit he’d cleared of monsters for what seemed to be the final time, the blood moons having ended.

It sparked his curiosity.

He sprinted the first hundred feet, then slowed to a reasonable pace. He didn’t want to go too far and worry Zelda, but if there were poes at that old monster nest, he didn’t want to leave them there.

Ten minutes later, he entered the mouth of the circle, three moldy, rickety old watch-posts within and another gap in the rocks across from him. Blue flickered beyond it: five poes huddled together. As he approached, flashes of his last encounter there played across his mind’s eye. The bokoblin on the platform before him had seen him first and tried to rain fire-fruit-arrows on him. Two silver moblins had slouched toward him, intent on splitting him open with their horns or the decayed royal claymores they’d somehow gotten. The other two bokoblins had fallen quickly to Tulin’s duplicate. Five monsters in all.

Link’s lip curled.

He hesitated on the brink of turning back, the thought of helping anything that may once have been a bokoblin sending a shockingly wicked taste of bile up his throat. He brought a fist to his mouth, pressing it deep to his skin, the imprint of his teeth stark against his lips.

No one memory stood out.

He’d never met a bokoblin that hadn’t aimed to kill on sight—never known one to show mercy, or even disinterest. Once they knew a person was near, they entered an unstoppable, murderous frenzy until they succeeded or someone put them down.

Link shut his eyes and took breath after deep breath.

He didn’t know anything for sure, and the bargainers never said.

Except they did say.

“Good… Evil… That’s the futile perspective of narrow-minded beings… There is no such distinction in wandering spirits.”

When he next looked, the flames flickered every bit as forlorn as they always did. He shook his head, his feet finally choosing forward for him.

When the poes joined the others in Link, he felt the usual sense of relief. Whoever or whatever they were, they seemed glad to be with him—not as happy as the ones he’d found in the deepest pit of the mine beneath Hateno, but if he was stuck for Goddess-knows how long at the absolute bottom of a pitch-black pit, he’d have been overjoyed to get out, too.

He took his time on the way back to the courtyard, half-watching a team excavate a buried section of the cracked enclosure and half-scouting for more glints of spirit-light, pensive, wrinkling his nose as he became aware of the sticky sheen on his skin. He pulled a handkerchief from his pouch and took it to his face. It came away slightly green with the powdery spores always floating in the too-still air of the depths.  Zelda collected them to study, but Link preferred not to be the collection vessel.

Zelda herself appeared over the edge of the wall as he swept the cloth beneath his left eye a second time. He watched her make her way down the inclined stone the natural grace she’d always had.

When he reached her, she was busy snapping images of the newly excavated section of stone.

“It is remarkable how they accomplished this precision on such a massive scale.” The Purah Pad clicked. “These structures were erected before my time with them—long before for most. They are scattered so far and wide and yet certain markings on them are precisely identical. I suppose they may have mass-produced stones as they did construct parts and delivered them afar.”

Link grew a soft, sideways smile as he listened. He could imagine her doing exactly this in the sunshine, her hair brushing the small of her back, himself silent as always, allowing her voice to wash over him until she inevitably remembered who she was talking to.

“The compendium feature is still something of a mystery,” she’d said, snapping a carefully-timed shot of a warm darner just as it paused, searching for prey.

“It recognizes certain species, but not others. Initially, Purah and I believed its recognition to be related to useful effects. Warm darners are of use in elixirs to resist cold temperatures, for example. Yet despite being unable to identify any species of tree, the Slate recognizes certain perfectly ordinary fruits, including apples.”

Link thought apples were too delicious to be ordinary.  He didn’t dare say so, but the phantom flavor of hot buttered apple flooded his mouth and his stomach betrayed him with a thoroughly embarrassing hunger-pang much-too-much like the sound of a hopeful retriever begging for an appley treat.

Zelda’s back stiffened. She glanced over her shoulder at his now-pink face, her eyes flicking to the blue pommel peeking out behind his ear. Link remained perfectly still, and that included not swallowing his imaginary-apple-induced-saliva.

Then-Zelda had returned to imaging wildlife in a rankling silence.

Now-Zelda heard him huff a laugh and turned with a smile sparkling despite the cold light of this place. She hooked the Purah Pad onto her belt. “May I ask what’s amused you so?”

Link shrugged a little. “Ways you haven’t changed.”

“Ah,” she said, threading her fingers through his. “And what of ways I have?”

His voice emerged low and soft. “I love those.” He squeezed her hand.

It made her smile at him in a way far too similar to how she had much earlier that morning, not long after waking up. He swallowed as she pulled him toward her—then she squinted at him and laughed a little through her nose, taking the handkerchief still in his other hand and beginning to wipe his forehead.

“I did that already,” he chuckled.

“You missed your hairline,” she said with the soft laugh he’d come to recognize as her equivalent of a giggle. “It’s fortunate this substance does not irritate your lungs as it does for some.”

“Especially Nappin.”

“Indeed, yes, especially Nappin. I do not believe depths research is his calling.”

“Nope.”

“You must have walked through a thick patch.”

“Ran through, more likely.”

“Oh? Where did you go?”

Link motioned toward the stone circle in the distance.

Her brow pinched. “Monsters?”

“Poes,” he said, wondering if he should tell her about the coincidence of the number. It might make her feel better, to have some hint these weren’t all souls marooned by the Calamity, but he wasn’t sure how she’d take the possibility they might be doing favors for monsters who’d been intent on murdering them in life.

She must have seen it in the motions of his mouth, nearly but not quite speaking. “Something else?” she asked.

He sighed soft through his nose. “Just something that made me think.”

The corner of her mouth quirked. Then her whole face opened up in mock-surprise. “Incredible!”

“Pfff,” he said with a poke to her ribs.

She squeaked. The three people working on the excavation behind Zelda went from studiously ignoring them to unabashed staring. Link gave them a small wave just as he registered Zelda’s eyes narrowing at him.

She began to rub the handkerchief all over the crown of his head with unnecessary vigor.

“Hey!”

The sounds coming from her as he pushed her hands away were much more like a girlish giggle than anything she usually produced. “It was in your hair, too,” she pointed out.

“There’s probably some in yours, Princess,” he warned.

Her eyebrows shot very close to the hairline her hands had risen to protect.

Link smirked. Her braid was much more difficult to fix than his ponytail. He made short work of his, shaking his now-mussed hair out and re-gathering it in the tie. Hyper-aware of the team still at rapt attention in the background, he finished up and offered his hand to Zelda. “Truce?”

She took it with a small smile. “Yes, please—but sincerely, I would like to know what gave you pause in the short time we were separated.”

His smile ebbed as he began to lead her over the shallower side of the half-buried stone walkway. It was no use, really. He’d only been good at hiding things from her when she refused to look at him, so long ago.

“There were five poes,” he said, “same as how many monsters I last cleared out.”

Their feet fell so quiet on the soft courtyard ground covered in pale, fuzzy flora he had no real names for, some soft and mossy, others more like wisps or powders. A few prickled. He liked the purple ones best for breaking up all that grey.

Their feet followed the same path without any hesitance or need for confirmation—toward the great central corridor. Zelda finally answered ten feet from its first stones.

“The statues say… good and evil… are meaningless for them.”

“…Yeah.”

“For a few moments, I was wondering whether only the spirits remaining clear in the shape of Hylian soldiers were people, but… no.  For they aren’t poes at all, are they?”

Link shook his head. “No. They… find their way on their own. Once they’re done.”

Zelda nodded. “They had a purpose—to help you,” Zelda said.

“To help someone, anyway. Whoever came around to fight back.”

A series of clanging sounds echoed down the stone steps into the corridor, along with quizzical "Brrrp!"s and a Hylian's grumbling. Link's right hand flexed. No more convenient ultra-glue. He kept walking.

“Why down here?” Zelda asked.

She’d spoken so quietly he had to think to process her words over the noise.

“You mean why in the depths?” Link asked.

“Yes. Why so far beneath the place they perished? There seems little hope of aiding someone here, doesn’t there?”

“I came along.”

“Yet they can’t have known you would. They wouldn’t even have known the depths were here to travel here intentionally.”

Link shook his head. He had absolutely no idea.

They descended in thoughtful silence to the base of Aratra’s main statue, then behind her into the yawning chamber tucked deceptively beneath the center of the great structure.

It struck Link, as it often did, as the offer of an embrace. As the chamber opened before them, the long bridge leading from the entrance directly to the four-eyed face of the greatest bargainer statue, the platform running abreast its shoulders combined with its massive arms and it appeared so ready to encircle whatever came before it. When he’d first stood there, he expected it, watched those hands out of the corner of his eye, waiting for movement.

It had never come.

Instead, a distant but surprisingly level-headed voice had issued from the alien face. It had helped him—no question about that.

The poes gladly rushed into its waiting arms—no doubt about that, either.

But this entity had also played a trick on him to get him down here. He would never trust it the way he trusted the Goddess.

The Goddess statues were another matter entirely. Now that he knew more than one thing could talk out of them, he was a lot more wary than he’d been before.

They came to a halt near the great statue’s face.

“You who stand before me,” it said in tones of single drops of water echoing in a deep, black lake, “offer poes to me. They are spirits that ought to return to the afterlife.”

As always, the poes simply left them. With hundreds or thousands of spirits somehow housed within him, Link always expected there to be something like a whirlwind, or flashes of light—but there wasn’t. It was swift and gentle as a sigh: barely a murmur of any motion or sound. It took merely a moment.

Then a wave of desperate grief seized the core of Link’s body and he cried out, clutching at an anguished heart, though neither the cry nor the heart were his own.

“Link!” Zelda gripped his biceps, her face stricken.

“Z-elda-“ he said, more to answer her than anything else, at a complete loss.

“Two do not wish to leave you,” said the bargainer.

Link’s breath caught.  Zelda’s eyes flew wide, and she looked him up and down as though trying to find them. “Can you- pull them from him?”

“I can do no more than guide,” the bargainer answered. “I show the way home.”

“They usually seem quite pleased to go home. So- why?” Zelda’s face seemed approaching a panic like none he’d seen in over a hundred years.

“I’m fine, Zel,” Link said, “really- NO, really, I’m fine, I’m just- I feel what they feel.”

“Yes, I do as well, but this-“

“This is them not wanting to go,” Link said, shaking. His eyes met first the lower, then the upper pair of the bargainer’s. “Can you talk to them?”

“After a fashion.”

“Can you figure out why-“

“I know why.”

Link and Zelda waited a few beats.

“We would appreciate it if you would inform us,” Zelda said, a hint of exasperation in her voice.

There was a depth of quiet, as though all sound plummeted into some unseen pit, unable to return, siphoned, whenever the bargainers spoke across fathoms to their brethren.  It muted Link’s accelerated breaths. Zelda’s grip tightened, her mind visibly whirring behind the eyes flicking between his features.

“…You have made a substantial offering,” the bargainer said at length.

Link and Zelda exchanged a glance.

“You have made many offerings,” it continued, “many more than any other being in countless ages.”

Link experienced the distinct sensation of someone…curling around him, like Zelda would, holding him tight, but inside his own chest.

“If you agree, I will honor these spirits’ requests as repayment for your offerings.”

“Agree?” Zelda asked. “What requests?”

“They would speak with you,” it clarified.

The curl tightened. It felt like far, far more than a desire to speak. A creeping dread rose in him—his own—of what spirits would choose to cling with such desperation to his body.

Someone terrified of death? Of the afterlife? Maybe someone with a last request—a regret? Two someones—at the same time, when it had never happened before?

Or did the bargainer mean… “W-wait,” Link said with a swallow. “Do they want to speak to someone in general? Or is it just me? Or Zelda?”

Link resisted an inexplicable urge to whimper.

“It is you who stand before me,” the bargainer said.

“Meaning Link,” Zelda said squinting at the statue.

It stared as though its answer had been obvious.

“Do they mean him harm?” Zelda’s tone had hardened considerably. “We have seen spirits lift weapons- perform magic.“

Link lurched with a sudden fear—could he have picked up Ganondorf’s soul?

“I offer you a boon,” the bargainer said, “not a curse.”

Zelda blinked, taken aback, while Link registered the depth of the anguish invading his heart.

It didn’t feel like Ganondorf. He’d have been hatred—envy—fury.

No, that wasn’t it.

This was regret. Something undone or unfinished.

Link closed his eyes and tried to… reach—within himself, where this spirit wound around him. So tight—clinging—stubborn. Something made him breathe an incredulous laugh, and he didn’t even know why; but the more he seemed to press into the spirit’s space the more familiar it seemed, an intense vertigo hurtling toward him from an invisible horizon slamming his awareness into long ago, when the world was over a hundred years younger.

Link’s body gasped.

Link’s mind looked down at a very spiteful young girl with a thick mop of mixed sand-and-straw-and-acorn-colored hair which he’d wrestled into a braid for her earlier that day, springy strands poking out at odd angles as she narrowed her eyes at him, her gangly arms vice-gripping his ribs, her hands fisted, and her feet planted wider than shoulder-width apart, as though to brace him immovably in-place.

“This isn’t going to work out for you, cheeter,” Link said.

“You’re not going,” she answered, her voice a mix of petulant and acrid.

“I… kind of am.”

“Nope.” She sniffed, a bit of her own hair having tickled its way to the edge of one nostril.

“I mean, if you won’t let go, I can just drag you all the way to the castle.”

“Good.”

“Good?!”

“Dad takes you everywhere. My turn.”

“You clinging to my midriff isn’t the same as Father taking you somewhere.”

Her lip curled and Link felt kind of bad, but what did she expect? “You’re eleven.”

“So?”

“So you’re not even out of school yet!”

“Castle Town has a school.”

“So you want to go to school in Castle Town while I’m in training all day and pretty much not see me anyway?”

“At least I’ll get to do something.”

Link laughed so hard he went silent, the girl’s chin bopping his ribs painfully with each spasm of his diaphragm.

“What are you laughing at?!”

“Chee… for Hylia’s sake, you’ll just be at a different school!”

“With you.”

“What about Mom?” Link said.

Chee went quiet for a moment, her eyes softening a little, though they still shone like tiger’s-eye. He could tell she was trying not to grimace.

“That is totally your sheepish face trying not to come out,” Link said.

 “Dad leaves her alone,” Chee said quietly. “A lot.”

Link’s smile left him. “No… he doesn’t. Because she has us.”

“You mean me.”

“Yeah, okay… so it’s been you more than me. But do you really want to leave her here while we both go?”

“She could come.”

Link shook his head. He was getting sidetracked. Mom wasn’t really what this was about, and neither was a different school, or Castle Town, or even his sister getting to do more exciting things. “Look, Chee… I know you’ll miss me.”

She grunted and pumped all the air from his lungs with her bony arms (damn she was strong).

“I’ll miss you too. A lot.” He wrapped his arms around her and squeezed, hard, but not too hard. He was way too strong for his own good, or hers. “More than anyone,” he whispered.

“Link?”

“No way.”

“Yep.”

“You’re a total mommy’s boy.”

“Yeah, well, doesn’t mean my sister can’t be my favorite person.”

“Link, please- answer me!”

“He communes,” the bargainer said, the sound of distance itself as the image of Link’s little sister faded.

The feel of her arms around him remained.

“I agree!” Link blurted.

“What?!” Zelda said, her thumb swiping at a wetness on Link’s cheek.

As the embrace of his innermost self bled from Link, he tripped forward, his arms desperate, seeking to return it. His hands found Zelda’s waist, and his eyes found hers—whatever she saw in them made her hug him tight about his shoulders.

“Link?” she said.

He held her too, unsure how to begin, but any words died on his lips at the sight of blue flame coalescing behind her. He tapped Zelda’s back, taking her by one shoulder and turning her to look.

Two spirits came into slow being before them, veiled in a pale blue glow, their features weaving into existence as patches of light, seamless once in place. Flames licked their feet, one moment there, then gone. They were old women, but as Link watched, their edges shimmered, and they took the forms he knew they would—some hidden heart within him had already known, had felt their shades only in his most dreamless of sleeps, in the darkness with them.

One woman stood almost exactly his height, about forty years old, and looked very much like him. The other had become the girl who’d insisted he stay home with her over a century ago.

How could his waking mind have forgotten them so thoroughly? He really was an insane amnesiac with delusions of heroism. He’d have to be insane to forget people he loved so much.

“Mom. Chee,” he said, and as he did, their tears fell, too. They rushed to embrace him, both at once, and he could feel them, they were real, and his deepest core spoke a wordless vow to offer a gift worthy of the bargainer’s extraordinary blessing.

--

Zelda balanced privacy and caution, wandering the length of the bargainer’s platform, the communion of three always at the corner of her eye, sitting cross-legged, knee-to-knee and hand-in-hand.

She’d known of his mother and sister, but they’d never met. He’d spoken of them only in bare, short spaces, quiet moments when Calamity’s imminence dulled.

How their Hateno home had not brought their memories forth long before now, she didn’t know. She’d sensed, sometimes, as Link stared at a piece of pottery or brushed his fingertips over a length of wood-grain on the banister, some glimmer of their former reality floating near to the surface—but it never emerged.

It’s why she’d delved into the mystery of the Shrine of Resurrection—into the healing spring beneath it in the depths—as though the missing parts of him had drifted into its bed, lying nascent against its darkest earth, far below.

They’d have stopped there again after this, on an ordinary day. She’d have given him her most sincere of smiles as she removed his leather—his bracers, his belts, his boots—her eyes never leaving his. She could feel the way his chest would rise and fall, quickening against the heels of her hands. They’d have entered the water together.

Zelda reached the platform’s edge. Hundreds of feet below, a small cluster of poes huddled in the great chamber’s corner, near the bargainer’s ankle; Zelda wondered that they’d come so close to the guiding statue, yet not found their way to the afterlife.

“They do not wish to cross,” the bargainer said.

Zelda gasped, one hand pressing flat to her chest. It had heard her?

“I can hear only you who stand before me.”

Zelda craned her neck toward the statue’s head, half-expecting it to have turned toward her. It hadn’t. “Not the others above us, then?” she whispered.

“Only you who stand before me.”

Zelda sighed, the bargainer keeping its secrets as always. She centered Link in her vision, speaking quietly with his lost family, so engrossed he’d not spared the statue a glance as its voice sounded.

“I spoke to you alone,” the statue said.

“Oh?” Zelda’s curiosity piqued. “I didn’t realize you could.”

She waited for a response, the spark of excitement slowly fading in the silence.

She oughtn’t have expected anything else. These beings showed interest in nothing but the welfare of the spirits they shepherded. She peered over the railing once more, at the flames flickering far below.

“If I go to collect them, will they come?”

“For you, yes. Undoubtedly.”

“And would they then move on as the others have?”

“Almost certainly.”

She wondered why her carrying them a few hundred feet would change their minds.

“Listen with he who also stands before me. You will understand.”

Zelda’s brow tightened, taken aback and hesitant to simply eavesdrop. She shuffled her feet.

The bargainer remained silent.

She approached the three with great reservation, her hands clasped before her, unwilling to simply insert herself within their conversation. She stopped partway across the platform. Should Link wish to include her, he would—yet he was rapt. He appeared as though drinking in every detail of his mother’s face over and over again. Perhaps he feared a more ordinary forgetfulness would take her from him a second time.

Zelda’s lower lip rose in understanding. Some days, she, too, struggled to see her father’s face clearly. Her mother’s had long been wiped blank.

She gasped, her hand touching the Purah Pad.

Link looked up at the sound, giving her a small smile, and as he did, the spirits looked at her as well, as though only just noticing her presence.

The spirit of Link’s mother smiled wide. “Link! Is she with you?”

Link turned deep crimson, his face twisting in a smiling grimace Zelda had never seen on him.

“Oooh!” his sister said, her face full of mock-scandalization. “Your face, Link. Wow. Is she… with you?” she asked, her eyebrows inching upward.

Link’s rested his face in his hands as the spirit-women giggled at him. Zelda couldn’t help but quirk a smile, herself, though she felt strange. She could not ignore the hesitance in her heart.

Transient.

It would be transient.

Her eyes threatened tears as she watched her lover, watched him be with them as though they yet lived.

Their departure would sink him as his forgetfulness never could have.

It took Link a minute and a few resurgences of giggling to recover enough to peer over his hands at her.

Then he held one out in invitation, turning that smile on her- the one that was for her alone. She drew a steeling breath, her fingers worrying at the pad’s cool surface. “Are you certain?” Zelda asked. “I’ve no wish to intrude.” I’ve no wish to cut your time short.

“I’m completely sure,” Link said, beckoning her toward him.

Her shoe scuffed on the first step and she swallowed, extending her hand. When he took it, his mother’s spirit slid to make room for her. Zelda sat as they did, her knee to Link’s, unable to smile and unsure what to say—though she had no intention of asking questions about the mechanics of spirithood, despite the bargainer’s nebulous words.

Link seemed to sense her uncertainty. He threaded his fingers through hers and moved closer, drawing her hand warm into his lap, his shoulder to hers. Zelda couldn’t help but find his eyes, and though she knew his smile and the squeeze of her hand were nothing but sincerity, a truth to reassure her, the smile she gave held a depth of sadness for the future this would bring.

“That is so a yes,” his sister said, snapping the moment in two. Link’s eyes rolled and fluttered shut, and a small laugh left Zelda’s nose despite her visions of Link falling apart.

“The sky’s sake, Chee,” his mother chuckled. “You lived to be ninety-two. I’d expect you to have matured eventually.”

“Are you kidding? This is my chance to be a kid again. I’ll take it!” The girl smiled at Link, but an intense sadness lay in the core of her eyes, the precise contours of her lips. Zelda recognized its longing.

It was in his mother’s, too. “Link, my little love,” the older woman said, shifting a soft smile between him and Zelda, “why don’t you introduce us?”

Link huffed a laugh and gave Zelda a look so like one he’d given her just before the Calamity struck—on Mount Lanayru—something sad yet loving and utterly immovable all at once. She wondered wildly for a moment exactly how he’d introduce her—for she wasn’t his wife, not yet, but “fiancé” seemed an entirely inadequate word.

Fated. Soulmate. Destined. Those- those began to approach the magnitude of whatever connection had laid between them even from the beginning.

“Mom- Chee,” Link said, his eyes and smile still soft, still on her. “This is the love of my life.” His thumb stroked the edge of her hand. “Zelda.”

She and her smile warmed, his words an anchor to the present. Her free hand curled around his bicep and their foreheads somehow met, though she’d not intended to approach him.

His eyes on hers.

Those calm waters she always wished to dive deep within. They seemed to go on forever, further than Link himself could know, to a place warm, safe, and eternal.

Should she ever tell him so, he would give her his lopsided smile with that deep dimple of his. He would tell her the reverse—that she was his eternal goddess, and he worshiped her—that it wasn’t about him.

But it was about him. She knew it in her deepest self. They two were as one. When it came time for her to pass into the afterlife, she knew she would not go without him.

A sudden understanding drew an aching smile on her face for all the little lights in the darkness.

Though the silence between them bore no tension, its length emerged in her awareness. No irreverent remark issued from his sister; his mother had asked no questions of her. She turned with a flutter of dread, expecting, somehow, the spell to be broken—to see empty space where the spirits had been. Instead, she found their gazes on them, awed.

“What is it?” Link asked softly.

They seemed at a loss for speech. Their eyes traveled all around and above and below them, their hands locked together. His mother’s eyes fell on Zelda’s, and his sister’s on Link’s.

“It was you,” his sister said.

Link shook his head. “What was?”

“You… shine,” his mother said, her voice like a whisper in a cathedral. “Together. Like- the light of a thousand Suns.”

Link turned as though searching for that light himself. “Zelda does- she shines with her magic.”

 “No, Link. Both of you,” his sister said, shaking her head hard, her eyes shut for a moment. She opened them, squinting at Zelda. “I see you both ways right now. Before, I didn’t have eyes, not anymore. I do now, and I can see you sitting there, but I could see you before, too. You… you were the lights. You…” she gestured at them, her palm wide, “are the lights.” She swallowed. “Mom? Same for you?”

“Yes,” the older woman breathed. “Yes. I thought- Link, I’d thought the light had led us to you. I felt- so happy to finally be with you again. My little boy-“ tears slipped down her cheeks again, and she reached for Link, cupping his cheeks. “I thought- I still don’t understand- I thought I’d outlived you. I kept wishing, and wishing, and wishing in a sea of darkness to find you again.”

“We all thought you died at Fort Hateno,” Chee said quietly.

“But the light didn’t lead me to you,” said his mother with a tearful smile. “The light was you. And…” she smiled at Zelda, “you. And together…” she shook her head.

“Together you get a lot brighter,” said Chee. “Like, a lot. Way more than double.”

His mother laughed. “I don’t have the right words- to tell you- just how beautiful it is. I wish you could see it.”

Link’s sister raised her hand like a schoolchild, her eyes on Zelda, one eyebrow intensely arched.

“…Yeah, Chee?” Link asked cautiously.

“So… are you Princess Zelda?”

Zelda couldn’t help but laugh. “I am.”

Chee gawked and whacked Link’s arm.

“Ow-“

“You landed the Princess?!”

“It’s not-“

“And you didn’t even INTRODUCE her as the Princess?!!”

“Well, I didn’t want to- to-“

“To what, brag?”

“No, it’s just not what’s im-“

“It is so important-“

“Children,” their mother said.

They ceased so completely their hands froze mid-gesture.

The older woman offered her hand, palm up, to Zelda with a kind smile.

She took it, astonished to feel warm skin, no different from anyone else’s, a mere shimmer of blue at the outline setting her apart if she looked hard enough.

“My name is Junilla,” she said, placing her other hand over Zelda’s. “I am so sincerely pleased to meet you, Princess- and overjoyed that my son has found such love in his lifetime.”

Zelda returned the gesture, placing her other hand over the spirit’s. “I am grateful,” she said, “for this chance to meet you. That Link has been reunited with you after all this time…” she took a breath, “is a blessing.” Her gaze rose from Junilla to the eyes of the bargainer. The others’ gaze followed hers.

Chee traced the unfamiliar shapes of the statue’s eyes, a hand worrying in her lap. “How- how much time do we have?”

Junilla’s hand tightened for the space of a pulse around Zelda’s, searching the stone for an answer.

“The- bargainer didn’t say how long we could speak,” Link said softly, suddenly breathing strangely.

“The choice to move on is never mine,” the statue said.

Link blinked. “So- there’s no time limit?”

“I impose nothing. Yet my gift cannot extend beyond these walls.”

Link nodded, his face flat.

--

Ponnick and several Sheikah entered the space several times to check on them, so long they remained below.

They never appeared to notice the two strange women, though the Purah Pad had been able to take their pictures.

When she and Link finally left—at 5:17am according to the Purah Pad—the women faded without even a whisper of sound to two flickering blue flames, resting together beside the bargainer.

They would wait for Link’s father.

He and Zelda would begin their search in the depths beneath Akkala to find him—under the Citadel—though the bargainer warned that spirits may drift or become bound.

“End the final tide of gloom,” the bargainer said. “Only then may they all return home.”

Link seemed to understand.

They kept their appointments in Lookout Landing and Goron City for that morning and afternoon, having skipped their detour to the hidden spring of resurrection in favor of them. Link was unusually subdued as she’d expected, and her heart fell further and further as the day lengthened.

He’d barely smiled at Yunobo’s fist-bump.

He broke down in her arms, as she’d thought he would, at home in their bed, exhausted and shuddering with a grief which should have been foreign to him, as it should be to anyone—yet he had felt it before in lesser magnitude when the spirits of their friends, their allies, had become known to him, one by one and memory by memory, a sudden knowledge of what had been lost.

He’d even grieved over her in this way, for he’d no way to know she would emerge from the Calamity’s innards as a living being.

Zelda could not imagine it.

All she could do was hold him, kiss the crown of his head, stroke his hair, tell him it was alright.

“I am here, my love,” she said. “I am with you, and I shall stay.”

He nodded, unable, for the moment, to speak.

It was days later, the Sun a deep gold resting in a bed of lavender above the stand of trees west of their garden, when Link suddenly took her by the waist with his only-for-her smile and kissed her, gentle and questioning, then deeper as she rose to meet him, passionate, her arms wrapping about his neck, their bodies moving as a single unfettered wave. Her mouth parted from his breathless.

“L- Link,” she said.

He kissed her again, on her jaw—behind her ear.

“Are- you alright?” she breathed despite her body’s insistence that now was not the time to worry.

He breathed a very soft laugh in her ear and pulled back to look in her eyes. His hands left her hips to cup her face.

He spent a very long moment just like that. When he spoke, the sweet summer breeze danced with the sunflowers, his soft voice like its rustle through the birch leaves.

“I don’t want to remember what I’ve lost only to forget what I have.”

Her hand covered one of his, pressing it to her cheek.

“I love you so much,” he said, his smile growing, a joy nestled there despite the shadow always upon his features. A hint of mischief twitched his mouth. “So much we attract poes in the dark.”

A laugh burst from her. “Link- you are indeed the love of my life, but I’d rather thought it was our magic-“

But Link was shaking his head. “Magic, sure, for glowing when we’re alone, but… the light of a thousand Suns? That’s love. I know it.”

A memory burst to her mind’s eye, of a power as though the surface of the Sun itself, flowing from her as her knight clung to the thread of life behind her.

It had been love then. She knew that. Love of Link which had hurled her bodily before him, willing to die in his stead.

She pulled him close and tight—placed a long, gentle kiss on his cheek. He breathed a laugh and nuzzled her hair.

“You are- absolutely right, Link,” she said. “Absolutely right.”

They held each other, quiet, unhurried as the soft changes in the palette of the sky, restful as the setting sun, resting in the place sought by all the little lights far below—that place in Link’s eyes: a far deeper depth than any within this earth, for eternity had no limit.

She ought to have understood it sooner.

The lifetime of the Light Dragon had been a mere blink of an eye.

Link would love her far longer.

It wasn't transient.

Nor was his love for his sister, his mother, or his yet-unfound father. What resurrection had taken from him in life would have been found beyond the bargainer's crossing, just as she and Link would follow each other to the spirit realm, to whatever lay beyond.

Some well deep within herself whispered in the language of forgotten memories, a truth woven of silent echoes, veiled shades of her many selves passing through her as a thick-muffled feeling—and in that moment, safe and warm in Link’s arms, she felt they had done so before. Over and over again, passing in and out of death and life and realms and voids and time together, and always each other’s light.

She looked at Link, eyes and mouth wide open in a sort of shock, as though seeing him for the first time—as though just having remembered him.

“Zelda?!” He ducked, flickering from feature to feature of her face, his thumbs brushing tenderness on her cheeks and temples. “What is it? Are you okay?”

“Oh- oh yes,” she said, her voice shuddering. Her next smile glowed, for him and only him, all else in reality falling from her present. “I love you, Link.”

He grew a smile to match hers and then some. “You sound surprised,” he said with a chuckle.

She took his face in her hands and kissed his mouth, softly, full of reverence, and it felt like a first time. Link’s palm came to rest flat on the table beside her, pressing hard, bracing himself against a force Zelda felt, too, and welcomed—a compulsion to rejoin, to reunite. A shocking elation flooded her that he was wholly him, that he carried no spectre of an ancient king, no matter how benevolent, by his side, and she surged forward against him, delving, caressing: worshiping.

Her kiss released by a hair’s breadth, the heat of their lips a promise of imminence. Link’s heart raced against her elbow where it met his chest. “Z- el,” he said, utterly breathless, even more than he’d made her.

“I’ve always loved you,” she said, her voice quiet’s paramour. “And I always will.”

He stood before her, an avatar of adoration, every aspect of his being focused on her, the softness in his eyes unlike any she’d seen outside those moments he watched her at pleasure’s height. He brushed his lips to hers—not a kiss: a caress.

“You understand,” he said.

She kissed him again, her hands carding through his hair, thrilled when his eyes fluttered shut. She pulled back, a pause. “I do, now.”

“Forever,” he said.

“Through death and life again,” she answered.

In bed that night, Link slept soundly, his arms wrapped around her and his head resting on her chest. She sat partway up against the pillows, stroking his hair and thinking in a way she hadn’t in her waking life: a thinking more like feeling—more like acceptance.

This life was a gift.

A time to feel with skin, with heart and blood.

A time to be separate.

Not because they wished to be—but because it made their reunions that much more joyful.

And when it came time to fade from the physical, there would be nothing to separate them. They would be as one.

Death was not the end.

Birth was not the beginning.

And love…had neither.

She held Link a little tighter, smiling at his sleeping grumble, and closed her eyes.

[sinnohsiblings]

"Oh look at that! We're the same age give or take an eon or two! No wonder we seem to get along well." She smiled though part of her couldn't help the nagging feeling that what should have been many more years were stolen from him.

"Yellow hmm? I hear it's the color of joy, creativity, and energy. My father likes to say its why the most creative of gods have yellow." She smiled listening to him speak, "I think it's a lovely color, and suits you very well with how positive your energy is."

"And I can agree it's easier to get things done in the quiet of the night, especially for us ghost types." She nodded before chuckling, "The only downside really does seem to be how it can really alter one's sleep schedule though.'

"You don't eat outside of recreationally?" she said with a furrowed brow tilting her head, "Does he not care about the benefits of those extra nutrients? I also don't see why he should be against participating in those activities I mean...we are all Pokemon after all, and doing those things is good for us, at least enriching to our lives more than sitting in a bubble." She frowned. She knew she didn't like his dad from when she and Singularity first met but man this guy really sounded like he sucked to live with.

She smirked at his question, "Cheating? Well, we are gods of mischief so I think it's fine. You already know my age, but as for my favorite color well... it's pink. Specifically pastel pinks, I've always liked how light and calming it was on the eyes, especially on the flowers in the palace. I was always so jealous that I wasn't born with a pinker shade of red for my banding. Calama always said I should be grateful to have a redder belly...but it's so common and dull I feel."

"Much like you, I also find myself living a more nocturnal life but I've managed to worm my sleep cycle to at least include the sunset and the sunrise because I like to watch them. While it's easier to work at night, most flowers don't look as beautiful as they do in the daytime.

"As for food. Hmm, I guess I'd say I prefer spicy and savory foods which is why one of my favorite treats is dried meats or things that use a lot of cinnamon. I'd chalk it up to my naughty nature, but if there is a flavor I cannot stand it's bitter!" She said making a disgusted face.

"But moving on to my siblings...hmmm. I guess Parisa and I are closer just because we are closer in age so we played a lot more with each other, especially because we liked girly things....but honestly I do deeply care for and favor my big brother. Dagon's been there for me in many ways that I don't think I'd even have the chance to repay given our different lifestyles. I worry a lot about him and when he's been doing to himself. He says he's fine but I can taste the lie in the air." She paused realizing she was rambling, "But getting off the negative thoughts, Dagon got a dry sense of humor that's never failed to get a chuckle out of me so that's always a good thing about him!"

"As for my daily activities well in terms of my official job I purify any reality rifts that occasionally occur and could corrupt the universe if left unattended, but those are few and far between and truly only occur if something as powerful as creation gods are sparring, which is honestly rarely a case for us. I always do at least 3 patrols of my territorial space in the void to make sure no out-of-world intruders are looking to invade and prevent any of our nimrods from accidentally leaving and becoming problems in another universe. Once that is all taken care of I like to work on flower gardens both in my territory of the void and within our palace on the material world. Gardening is a hobby that helps me feel close to my mother, we used to do it together before she had to leave. And when I'm not doing that I try and spend time with my friend Yvette, Diva, and Zeph-ah....but I'm dribbling on!" She said with a bid of an avoidant gesture to push her previous thought out of her mind.

When he asked about her favorite thing about herself she paused, now that was a hard question to answer. "Well...I think my favorite thing about myself is how hard-working I am. I've done a lot to work on myself and grow myself into someone who's far less angry and a lot more patient with others. I think me having the will to change is a good thing to have. Unless you wanted a physical feature of mine. If so I think it would be my moles, probably because they are often called beauty spots but I always felt they flattered my features with where they formed. Though, I'm a little...flip-floppy on how much I like my nose. Sometimes I feel it's too sharp and prominent, especially with how big it is, I think I'd like it to be a bit smaller kind of like Peri's."

"But enough about me!" She smiled, "I'm gonna take a page out of your book and ask you to answer those same questions you asked me about yourself, and let's add on If you would change your form to be any Pokemon in the world what would you turn into and why? What's something you absolutely hate to do? And...hmm...what are your thoughts about how that interview with my father went?"

Continuation of this | @singularity-and-co "It's a beautiful place regardless. Be it natural or be it ever so slightly altered. I know how difficult the world was for our first Xerneas to flourish with such wonderful plants to support the life our Mew was forming. it's nice to know you're able to enjoy such tranquil places from time to time." She smiled taking in his flushed features. She chuckled to herself seeing how he reacted to the same level of compliments he'd been giving. Seems he was used to giving and not receiving and she didn't mind being one of the few out there to give him the same sweet comments in return. She lightly drew circles into the back on his hand with her thumb as she listened to him speak. When he had finished she looked up at him with a warm glint to her eyes. "Well as much as I appreciate that you want this to go right for my sake, just remember how you feel about tonight is also just as important. My father wouldn't have approved of you asking me out if he didn't see the chance it would go well. So don't stress yourself out for me, ok?" She said with a playful tilt of her head. "But if you do wish to play a game of twenty questions, I can start. hmmmmmmm." She hummed to herself as she thought for a moment, "Ah here's a couple simple ones. How old are you? What's your favorite color? Are you a morning person or more nocturnal? and which flavor do you prefer, sweet, spicy, dry, sour, bitter or savory?"

[hawks-supremacy]

Pushed Away

summary: Kyotani Kentaro had a hard time letting people into his life, but you somehow managed to worm your way into his heart.

warnings: Swearing, fighting, super cheesy at some parts, angst

genre: fluff, angst

word count: 6.5k

a/n: This ended up being way longer than I intended it to be...oops.

You were in your second year of middle school when you met Kyotani Kentaro. You noticed he didn’t really hang out with anyone, often opting to stick to himself and not bothering to make any friends. You weren’t exactly extremely outgoing seeing as how you only had one or two people you would consider your friends, but you still wanted to befriend the guy who sat alone at lunch and seemed to have a constant scowl on his face. What’s the worst that could happen anyway?

So here you were with your neatly packed bento boxes, having packed an extra one in hopes your befriending attempt was successful. You explained to your two friends why you wouldn’t be sitting with them at lunch and they called you insane, you even invited them to come with confident in your endeavours and they quickly declined the offer. So with a smile on your face and peace offering in hand you made your way outside to where Kyotani usually sat by his lonesome.

As you sat down next to Kyotani he slowly turned his head to look at you, his signature scowl left on his face as he greeted you with a hostile, “What are you doing?” You looked up with a soft smile on your face, wordlessly offering him one of the bento boxes in your hand. His scowl turned to a look of confusion as you set the gift on the ground next to him when he refused to take it, “Are you deaf or something? What are you doing?” He asked with a little more edge to his voice than before.

You unwrapped and opened your lunch as you responded, “You’re on the volleyball team right? I’ve noticed you never eat lunch, you should eat lunch everyday so you have more energy for practice. So I packed you a bento box, I wasn’t sure what you would like so there’s a little bit of everything I usually eat.” You began to eat and his frown deepened as he still refused to pick up the bento box that sat to his left.

You stopped eating as he asked a simple, “Why?” You thought for a moment as you stared at each other. After a minute you shrugged and continued eating, “I want to be your friend.” You said in between bites of food. “Are you going to stare at me the whole hour or are you going to eat?” You asked, setting down your chopsticks and looking at him with raised eyebrows. You continued to stare at him until he silently picked up the bento box and opened it. He examined the food for a bit, looking up at you and back down at the food before he picked up the chopsticks and began eating.

You both ate in silence for the rest of the lunch period occasionally looking at each other like a silent conversation. Even though you hadn’t previously spoken to each other prior to today it was still a comfortable silence. You didn’t feel like you needed to talk to fill the void like you did with your other friends. As the bell rang indicating the end of lunch and beginning of the next period you packed up the empty boxes and stood up. As you went to walk away you heard Kyotani mumble a “thanks” as he walked in the opposite direction and you smiled as you went to your next class.

The next day you walked over to the same place as yesterday but Kyotani wasn’t there. You were a little disappointed but you figured he didn’t want to be bothered. You set down the bento box you once again made for him in hopes he’d come back later and turned around to go back to your usual seat. You didn’t make it far as you turned around and immediately ran into the boy you were searching for. You mumbled an apology that fell on deaf ears as he spoke over you, “What are you doing back?” He questioned as he walked around you to sit down in his usual spot.

“I came to eat with you again, but you weren’t here. I was just going to leave the bento in case you came back.” He was already opening the lunch as you explained and sat down by him. He mumbled something about his class getting out late as he stuffed his mouth full of the tempura your dad helped you cook.

You ate in silence for a few minutes before Kyotani cleared his throat, “So uh, do you like your classes?” He asked awkwardly. You laughed at his attempt to make small talk, coughing as you almost choked on the food you were in the process of chewing. You took a deep breath after calming down and looked up at Kyotani whose ears were slightly pink and looked less than impressed.

“I’m sorry. I don’t mean to laugh at you Kyotani, it’s just, you don’t have to make small talk if you don’t want to. I’m more than fine eating in silence until you feel comfortable enough to talk without sounding forced.” You gently closed your bento box as you explained your laughing fit. He nodded and went back to eating as you began some homework that was assigned in one of your earlier classes. You looked up as he softly asked what you were working on.

“Something for math, I’m not the best at math but I’m not the worst either. I just figured I’d get a headstart on the assignment so I don’t have to worry about it later.” You continued working on your assignment as you talked, Kyotani nodding as he finished up his food. You didn’t talk much after that, staying quiet as you worked on the problems presented to you on the paper. As the bell rang you packed up your bag and looked over and saw Kyotani with his eyes closed. You gently shook him as you tried to wake him up, “Kyotani, lunch is over we need to go back to class.” He hummed and swatted your hand away, “Yeah yeah, I’m getting up calm down. See ya later Y/n.”

It became routine for you and Kyotani to eat lunch together for the remainder of the school year. By the end of the school year what was once a comfortable silence was now a nonstop conversation. You both grew quite close but your interactions were limited to lunch. You didn’t have classes together and you weren’t sure if he’d be comfortable with you asking to hangout outside of school. So you left your interactions to lunch, which you were fine with. Until the school year was almost over.

It was the last day of school and you were thinking about how you wouldn’t see Kyotani until next year. He could tell you were a little upset and decided to ask what was wrong. “It’s the last day of school, so we won’t see each other until next year.” You were looking down at your food as you responded but you could’ve sworn you heard him let out a small chuckle before flicking you in the forehead. “Ow! What was that for?!” You exclaimed while rubbing the spot he flicked.

“You’re being dramatic for nothing. You have my phone number and I have yours, we can hang out any time either of us want.” He scoffed as he finished his sentence. Maybe you were being a bit dramatic, but you couldn’t help it. It was hard to tell what Kyotani was thinking or what he wanted to do. You weren’t scared of him, you were probably one of the only people who weren’t, but you made so much progress in being his friend and you didn’t want it to end just because you wanted to hang out outside of school and he didn’t.

“Kyotani, are you glad I became your friend?” You asked, scared to know the answer. He thought for a moment before nodding and asking why. “Well the first day I ate lunch with you two of my friends told me I was stupid and you’d never want to be my friend. I’ve been wondering if you’ve just been tolerating me all this time.”

He furrowed his eyebrows at your statement, “Did you believe them?” You shrugged in response because you honestly thought it was a fifty fifty shot when you first approached him. “That’s stupid, I wouldn’t let you sit by me everyday at lunch if I didn’t want you to. The only people I tolerate are people I have to tolerate, like my teammates. Your friends were idiots and so were you if you believed them.” You nodded as the bell rang signaling that your daily dose of Kyotani was over. You said goodbye to each other and went in opposite directions to your classes.

You were leaving the classroom when Kyotani decided to scare you, not intentionally, you just weren’t paying attention when he walked up behind you. “Should put a bell on you, I swear you came out of nowhere. What are you even doing here?” You said with your hand on your chest trying to calm down. He shrugged in response as you two exited the school, “Walking you home so I know where to go when I’m hungry.”

You gasped in mock hurt, “You’ve been using me for my cooking haven’t you! I can’t believe this, I’m honestly heartbroken at the notion. You should just turn away and leave now.” You said trying to push him in the opposite direction of your house. He planted his feet on the ground, effectively stopping you from pushing him any further. “If I didn’t know any better I’d say you didn’t want me at your house.” You stopped trying to push him and he turned around to look at you, “Do you not want me over to your house? Weren’t you the one who was all disappointed we wouldn’t be able to hang out anymore”

You opened your mouth to respond and closed it, not quite knowing how to phrase what you wanted to say. You thought for a moment, going back and forth in your head before deciding on a response, “It’s not that I don’t want you over to my house. It’s that my dad is embarrassing and I don’t know what he’ll say to you to be quite honest.”

He raised his eyebrows at your answer, “It can’t be that bad. Come on let’s get going, I’m sure your dad is waiting for you at home. You can come over to my house later and you can meet my embarrassing parents in exchange.”

You sighed and started to lead the way to your house when you realized he wasn’t following you. You turned around and saw him standing there with his hands in his pockets. “Are you coming with or not?” He started walking towards you after you asked. “Don’t blame me when my dad says something stupid though.” You said as he rested an arm on your shoulder as you walked.

“Dad, I'm home! I brought a friend with me!” You yelled into the house as you walked in and took off your shoes. You knew he was home because you saw his car outside. You heard footsteps round the corner from the kitchen as your dad came to greet you with a mixing bowl in hand.

“Hey, how was your last day of school?” He asked as he gave you a side hug. “Who’s this?” He said, eyeing Kyotani, trying to form a first impression of the boy in question as he stood there. You hugged him back as you responded, “It was fine, uninteresting. This is Kyotani Kentaro, is it okay if he stays for dinner tonight?” He agreed but only if Kyotani helped cook.

“ So this is the boy you’ve been cooking everyday for? They talk about you a lot.” Your dad said as you all entered the kitchen. You groaned at his statement, “Dad, can you not say embarrassing things like that? See this is why I didn’t want you over here.” You said turning to Kyotani who was chuckling at the interaction.

He shrugged, walking over to the sink to wash his hands as you finished, “I think it’s endearing that you talk about me to your dad.” You shook your head as you started to cut up vegetables, choosing to ignore the conversation your dad and Kyotani were currently having. You didn’t notice as Kyotani walked up next to you with a mixing bowl in hand, “How’s it going over here?” He asked, startling you.

“Don’t scare people in the kitchen, that’s how accidents happen Kyotani.” You scolded as he laughed at your response. He put his hands up in surrender and went back to mixing the contents in the bowl. Your dad smiled as he watched you guys interact, leaving you both to do your own thing instead of joining the conversation and ruining the dynamic you both had. He eventually told you both to go do something else and he’d come get you when dinner was done.

“Your dad seems cool. Also seems like a good cook.” Kyotani said as you guys entered your room. You nodded as you set your bag down next to your desk before sitting on your bed. “Yeah he’s pretty laid back with everything. It’s just me and him so he tries his best to be the strict parent every now and then. He’s also a professional chef, so I’d hope he was a good cook. You can set your stuff anywhere you want.” He nodded, setting his stuff by the door and sitting on your desk chair.

You talked about your family life a bit more, you found out he had an older sister who he didn’t really talk to and that his parents were separated but he lived with his dad. You explained how it was just you and your dad. Your mom got sick when you were younger and couldn’t understand what was happening or why your mom didn’t come home from the hospital. By the time you were done sharing tragic backstories your dad was calling you both for dinner.

Your dad quizzed Kyotani about his life and interests throughout dinner and you tried your best to interject when you felt things were going to be awkward but sometimes you were just a tad bit too late. Kyotani answered each question honestly and without hesitation, refusing to back down. You sat there the whole time thinking it was a mistake having him stay for dinner and how you should’ve just stuck with your answer of refusing him coming over.

At the end of dinner Kyotani had to go home and you said your goodbyes. Your dad said he was welcome over anytime and you were just glad they didn’t end up fist fighting over some of the questions that were thrown out. You were glad you pursued your attempts at becoming Kyotani’s friend. You could tell you were going to be friends for a while.

Two years later you found yourself and Kyotani watching a movie while you studied in your living room. It had been a month since you both started your first year at Aoba Johsai and you two happened to be in the same class. You got out of volleyball practice a few hours early and came home to study. You joined the volleyball team as their new manager to hopefully spend more time with Kyotani and make sure he wasn’t getting into too much trouble. You finally finished the homework you were working on for the past hour and sighed looking over at your best friend who was laying down on your couch, having finished his work fifteen minutes ago. You went over to where he was and sat on the floor in front of him poking his face until he woke up. “What do you want?” He asked before closing his eyes again.

You sighed, folding your arms on the couch cushion and laying your head on top, “Why’d you almost get in a fight today?” Earlier today you left Kyotani at lunch to go get a drink from the vending machine down around the corner and when you came back he was in a yelling match with some random kid you didn’t know. You stopped him before he could actually start throwing punches and pulled him away. He shrugged at the question saying it wasn’t important. “Seriously Kentaro, I don’t understand why you’re so angry all the time. You’re actually really nice and chill if you just let people get to know you.”

He sighed as he sat up, “Because it’s easier to have everyone hate you than trying to get everyone to like you. Why bother trying to please people when you can just worry about yourself.” You frowned at the response, you sure didn’t hate him. He didn’t really try to make you hate him either. Sure he wasn’t the nicest when you first met but he also didn’t yell at you or anything drastic like that.

“I don’t hate you. I don’t think you hate me either, you didn’t try to get me to hate you from what I can remember either.” You said as you got up from the floor and sat next to Kyotani on the couch.

He yawned as he stretched before turning to you, “You were different. I don’t know how to explain it but you are. I didn’t mind letting you into my small bubble, you know?” You were shocked that he was opening up like this, usually your conversations just consisted of him telling you about everyone that got on his nerves that day and you talking about the new people you met.

Of course whenever you met new people you knew they weren’t going to stick around long. Often they would talk bad about your best friend without knowing that you were friends, so you didn’t stick around them much. Not that you minded, you were perfectly content with your one good friend, not feeling the need to be friends with every single person you met in your life like some people did.

The only problem was that within the past year you began to develop feelings for your best friend. You started to fall in love with the guy who pushed everyone away but you. The guy who never showed any other emotions than annoyed or angry. The guy who you couldn’t quite figure out, and now? Now you were trying to figure out a way to tell him. “Y/n? Are you there? You’ve been spacing out for like three minutes.” He said waving his hand in front of your face.

You turned your head to look at Kyotani who was smirking, trying not to laugh at the fact that you had zoned out. “Were you talking that whole time?” You asked tilting your head slightly to the side.

He raised his eyebrows for a bit before speaking, “Yeah I was just saying how I’m in love with you and how I think you’re the one for me.” You gasped and looked at him with wide eyes about to confess before he started speaking again, “I’m kidding I was asking how you think you’re going to do on the test.”

You closed your mouth and furrowed your eyebrows. “That’s not very nice, you know. You shouldn’t play with other people’s emotions like that, Kyotani.” He was about to speak before you interrupted him this time, “I mean what if I believed that you liked me like that. Of course you don’t it was stupid to think you could, but for you to joke about it? That’s a new level of low.”

You continued to ramble until he eventually cut you off, “Y/n! Would you shut up for one second so I can talk?” You stopped talking and folded your arms, refusing to look at him. “I do like you, that’s just not how I wanted to tell you. I wasn’t sure if you’d like me back so I played it off before you could respond. Sorry if I hurt your feelings, you’re the last person I want to hurt. You’re probably the only person I care about.” You started tearing up at his confession, feeling stupid about the current situation. “Are you crying? Shit I’m sorry.”

You shook your head trying to blink away the tears that were threatening to fall. “No it’s a stupid thing to cry over, sorry. I like you too Kentaro. I just thought you didn’t so it was overwhelming when you said that. Again stupid, sorry.”

He pulled you into a hug that basically ended with you sitting on his lap, “Don’t apologize for your emotions, Y/n. I’m glad you like me back, this means I have a reason to yell at the guys who ask me if you’re single.” You laughed as you hugged him back.

“You know Kentaro, this is the most emotion you’ve ever shown.” He shoved you off of the couch telling you to shut up. You continued your laughing fit before you paused realizing something. “Wait, is that why you almost got into a fight today? Because that guy asked if I was single?” When he didn’t say anything and refused to look you in the eyes you started laughing. “Seriously Kentaro? You were mad because someone asked if I was single? I’m flattered that you felt like you needed to fight the poor boy but holy shit, you probably traumatized him.”

He just shrugged in response as he mumbled, “It was the way he asked, he was all cocky about it. Was hitting on you too saying you had a nice ass.” You opened your mouth in mock hurt, “Are you saying I don’t have a nice ass?” You watched as he stumbled over his words, trying to back track over his previous statement.

You continued the back and forth teasing and laughing for the next hour and a half until your Dad got home. “Hey Dad! How was the restaurant?” You asked leaning over the front of the couch to watch as he walked in. Kyotani hooked an arm over the back of the couch and turned his head to briefly greet your dad.

“It was okay, pretty busy. Is Kyotani staying for dinner? I brought plenty of leftovers from the restaurant.” He said, taking off his coat and walking towards the kitchen. You jumped up from the couch and followed him into the kitchen sitting down at the table as Kyotani followed closely behind. “Yes he is, unless he’s going home right now?” You asked Kyotani who shook his head as he sat next to you. “Well I hope you like nigiri, we had a party of 10 who preordered it and never showed up.” Your Dad explained as he sat down with the to-go containers of food. You high fived your dad, “I love when that happens.”

You spent 10 minutes discussing how school was and any upcoming assignments that were due or tests that were coming up. You were about to talk about the upcoming practice match that Aoba Johsai had against Nekoma when Kyotani spoke up, “I’d like to date Y/n, if you’d let me.” You whipped your head towards your Kyotani who was having a stare down with your Dad.

You looked at your dad who looked at you and then Kyotani confused, “You mean you haven’t been dating this whole time?” He asked innocently. “I seriously just assumed you were dating this entire time, I’m sorry.” He continued when no one said anything.

A week later a Kyotani was taking you on your first date. You weren’t doing much, he just took you to get some ice cream and now you were sitting on a swing set just talking about nothing as you stared at the sky. It may not have been much but you wouldn’t have traded it for the world, in your eyes this was the perfect first date.

At the end of the date he was walking you home and he mentioned that he was nervous that the date wouldn’t be enough and you’d hate it. After all, you didn’t really have jobs so it was all he could afford at the time. You told him it was perfect as he dropped you off at your house. You were about to kiss him when your dad opened the door, “Oh did I interrupt, my apologies. I thought you forgot your house key and that’s why you were standing here. I’ll just uh, let you continue.” He slowly backed away and closed that door.

“Oh my god that was so embarrassing. I’m so sorry.” You said while running your hands down your face in both frustration and embarrassment. Kyotani chuckled as he removed your hands from your face and placed a gentle kiss on your lips. “It’s fine. Goodnight Y/n.” He said and walked away. You yelled a goodbye and walked inside to see your dad smirking at you. You felt your face heat up and quickly walked to your room wanting to avoid an awkward conversation.

A month later you were walking out of your classroom when one of the second years from the volleyball team stopped you and made you follow them. When you rounded the corner you saw Kyotani pinning some poor boy against the lockers all but screaming in his face. Your eyes widened as you scurried over to where they were, pulling Kyotani away from the traumatized boy. “Kentaro you gotta stop getting in fights before you get suspended or expelled.” You said softly as you intertwined your fingers with his and walked out of the school.

“I don’t care, you didn’t hear what he was saying about us.” He huffed and turned his head away from you. You asked what he said and felt his grip on your hand tighten. “He said you’d get tired of me and my attitude and leave, and when you did you had plenty of people waiting to sweep you off of your feet. I think what made me so mad is that he’s right. When you get tired of me you have all these people waiting to take you away from me.”

“Kyotani Kentaro, you stop it right now.” You said coming to a full stop making him face you. “I will never get tired of you, okay? If other people wanna talk about us then let them. They don’t know you like I do. I know you’ll never treat me like shit because you never have and you never will. I have full trust in you and I hope you trust me too. Understand?” You cupped his face as he nodded, “Good.” You said as you quickly pecked his lips and kept walking home.

It’s been nearly a year since you started dating Kyontani and you were panicking because you weren’t sure if you were doing anything for your one year anniversary. Sure you wanted to celebrate but you didn’t know if Kyotani wanted to do anything. You weren’t sure if he was going to get you anything and you weren’t sure if he was going to be mad or happy at the fact that you were getting him a gift. It’s all been so nerve wracking.

The past month or so you felt bad because you’d been picking up extra shifts at your dad’s restaurant to get more money to help pay for his gift, which meant that you were unintentionally avoiding Kyotani. He’d been questioning why you were taking extra shifts suddenly and you always just said that you just wanted to help your dad because he was short staffed.

You weren’t even sure what you were going to get him, you had an idea but you weren’t sure if you wanted to follow through with it or go with something different. You had a week before your one year was coming up and you decided to just follow through with it. You were on the phone with the people who would be preparing your gift when Kyotani rounded the corner and waved at you. In a state of panic that he would find out you turned around and quickly walked in the opposite direction.

You finished up your call and went to find Kyotani, kinda feeling bad that you just avoided him like that. You walked over to your guys’ usual spot, sulking, not that he would ever admit it. “Hey sorry about that, it was an important call.” You said sitting down next to your boyfriend, who moved his hand away when you tried to hold it.

“Who was it?” He grumbled still refusing to look at you. “It was just my dad, he was letting me know that he probably wouldn’t be home for dinner tonight.” What you said wasn’t necessarily a lie, your dad did text you earlier to let you know that he had to cater a party tonight so he wouldn’t be home until later. You were a terrible liar and you figured it’d be easier to lie if it was only a half lie.

Two days later and the company called you back confirming your order and what you wanted. They called while you were hanging out with Kyotani at your house, you quickly excused yourself and went outside to the back to take the call. Kyotani looked at your dad who just shrugged in response. When you came back Kyotani asked who called, you said no one important and he left it at that.

It was two days before your anniversary and you were telling Kyotani that you had to pick something up after school. “I can come with you, I don’t mind.” He offered. Sometimes you really hated that he was sweet and considerate sometimes.

“You can’t come with, sorry ‘Taro.” You watched as he sighed and looked annoyed before asking why not. “You just can't, okay, I can’t explain it right now but you can’t come with.” You couldn’t find an excuse as to why he couldn’t come with you so you just tried to deny him gently. You could tell he was getting frustrated and upset with you and you were glad that you’d be able to give him his gift soon so you could stop being secretive. You knew you could’ve just told him now but you really wanted it to be a surprise.

“You’ve been so secretive lately and it’s getting really fucking annoying and frustrating.” He said as he shook his head. “I know and I’m really sorry, but can you just trust me?” You asked and he sighed deeply before agreeing. You gave him a peck on the cheek before telling him thank you and that you’d text him later when you were home.

It was the day before you’d give Kyotani his gift and you texted him saying that you were going to school early and that you’d just meet him there when you both usually got there. You knew the third years on the team practiced in the gym before school started and you wanted to get their opinions on the gift. You were talking about it with them before you decided on it so you wanted their final approval. Sure they weren’t friends with Kyotani but they spent the most time with him other than yourself of course. Besides who better to get advice on a custom volleyball than some volleyball players themselves?

You were in the middle of talking about the price, because Oikawa was considering getting one, when the door to the gym opened with a slam. You spun around quickly hiding the volleyball behind your back when you saw it was Kyotani. You were about to greet him when he started talking and angrily marching towards where you guys stood.

“I fuckin knew you were doing some shit behind my back.” He nearly screamed at you. You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion as you tried to talk but was immediately cut off before you could even start. “I mean how long did you think this whole secretive “trust me” bullshit would last? Someone told me you were cheating on me with one of the third years and I didn’t believe them because you were always spouting off with that “Do you trust me?” shit. I should’ve known better than to trust you, or anyone for that matter.”

You looked down at your feet as your eyes started to water, not wanting Kyotani to see you cry. Iwaizumi tried talking to him but was quickly yelled at, accused of being the one you were cheating on him with. Iwaizumi and Kyotani were in the middle of a yelling match when you interrupted them, shoving the ball into Kyotani’s chest who caught it before it fell to the ground.

“I was trying to get you a gift you asshole!” You screamed back at him. He examined the gift before looking back at you and opening his mouth before closing it again, trying to find something to say. “Save it you dick, I don’t wanna hear it. It’s easier to have people hate you than to try and get everyone to like you right? Mission accomplished, everyone officially hates you now.” You said with tears streaming down your face. You exited the gym before he could say anything and went home for the day. You texted your dad and asked if he would call the school and let them know you were sick, he agreed and asked what was wrong but you just said you’d explain when you got home.

Kyotani was staring at your gift after you left with furrowed eyebrows, and it was like it was staring back, mocking him. He looked up when Oikawa started to speak, “You know Y/n-chan worked very hard to get that for you.” He said with his arms crossed. “Yeah they worked hard at their dad’s restaurant to be able to get the money to buy that. It wasn’t cheap, they said it was about 14 thousand yen?” Matsukawa asked Hanamaki who nodded. “Yeah and they asked us for advice on what kind of volleyballs we use and what brand we think are the best. They really put a lot of thought into this gift.” Hanamaki continued to lecture Kyotani before Iwaizumi spoke up about the situation.

“Seriously you fucked up. They told you to trust them and you said you did. Then the first person that comes along and says “oh hey y/n’s cheating on you” you choose to believe that person instead of your partner who’s been by your side since what? Second year of middle school? You’re an idiot and you need to fix this because they may have said they hate you but I know that’s not true. So go fix it before they actually hate you.” When Iwaizumi was done scolding Kyotani he took off running to your house, not caring if he missed school.

He got to your house and knocked on the door, he was surprised when your dad answered the door and immediately closed it. He knocked again hoping your dad would open the door for him and he does, only to tell him to go away and close the door again. He desperately knocked again and when your dad opened the door this time he just sighed and said “What do you want?”

“Can I please talk to Y/n? I really messed up and I realize that now, it’s just everyone’s constantly telling me they’re going to leave me one day and I got scared that it was happening. I just want to make this right.” Kyotani practically begged and your dad just stared at him before saying “no” and closing the door again.

You looked at your dad from the couch after he closed the door and he sighed as he turned to you, “He sounds like he’s sorry and he means it, but I’d make him sweat it out before you talk to him. It’s up to you though kid.” With that he walked away to the kitchen to make you guys lunch. You thought about it for a second before deciding you’d do what your dad said and let him “sweat it out” as he said.

You and your dad spent the day watching movies and baking treats to take your mind off of things. It was after supper and you were helping your dad with the dishes when you glanced out of the window and saw Kyotani still sitting outside your door. You gasped which caused your dad to look outside as well. When your dad saw what you gasped at he chuckled at the sight, “Well he’s dedicated that’s for sure. I say go talk to him, I can handle the dishes by myself.”

You sighed as you mentally prepared yourself to talk to Kyotani and walked outside. He looked surprised as you sat down next to him but didn’t say anything. “I’m sorry.” He said after a minute passed. You scoffed in response, folding your arms over your knees and resting your head on your arms, facing away from him. “I was an idiot, I know. I feel really really bad, believe me I do. Everyone’s telling me that you’re too good for me and you’re going to leave me-”

“I know.” You said cutting him off, “I heard you tell it to my dad. I just wanna know why you didn’t trust me enough to not believe them. I don’t care about what other people think, Kyotani.” He winced as you called him by his last name rather than his given name. “I really care about you Kyotani, but you really hurt my feelings. I tell you constantly that I’m not just going to up and leave you because I know you’re different from what everyone else sees. Then you went and treated me like I was everyone else. You pushed me away.”

“I won’t do it again Y/n, I promise.” He pleaded. “Yeah but I don’t know that Kentaro.” You already made up your mind to give him one last chance, you just wanted to hear what he had to say. “But I do, I swear I won’t. Please, I don’t want to lose you. You’re the best thing that’s happened to me and I really don’t want to lose you.”

“Fine, I’ll give you one last chance. If something like this happens again I’m not giving you a third chance. You have to fully trust me and communicate with me. Don’t just assume because the first person you saw told you something that’s not true. Okay?” You finally turned your head to look at Kyotani and it looked like he was about to cry.

He nodded in agreement, “I promise I’ll trust you and talk to you if I have any doubts, which I won’t.” You gave him a soft smile and pulled him into a hug. “I love you Y/n.” He said as he nuzzled his head into your neck. “I love you too ‘Taro.”

[flightlessangelwings]

Grant a Name to a Buried and a Burning Flame ~ Chapter 1

Hades!Din Djarin x Persephone!Reader (gender neutral, no y/n)

Chapter 1/3

Word Count: 3.1k

Warnings: Hades/Persephone retelling, historical setting, hints of soulmate AU, arranged marriage, slight angst, some fluff, mutual pining 

Thank you to @ollypopp​ for letting me bounce ideas and talk my thoughts out and thank you to my wonderful partner @we-can-be-himbos​ for beta reading for me! 

Moodboard made by me

~

“Persephone!”

You turned your head toward the voice that called your name. It wasn’t your birth name, but once you became of age you were assigned the name and your real name was never used in public anymore. No one remembered how or why it started, but it became tradition for every royal to assume the name of an Old God as a title and signifier of their status. Most took to it and even forgot their birth names, but you made sure that you used your real name when you were alone with yourself. 

Some maybe wanted to forget and embrace their role in life, but you didn’t want to forget. If you were honest with yourself, you didn’t even want this role. But, you were born into it and as soon as you were old enough, you were prepared for the day you would lead your kingdom. You were good at it for sure, and leading came naturally to you, but you didn’t feel like this was your calling. You didn’t even feel like this was truly a home to you, even as beautiful as the land was.

The voice belonged to your mother, Demeter, who found you in the garden again. It’s where she usually found you: alone in the peace and quiet, surrounded by your favorite flowers. Flowers always lined your chiton and served as decorative accents to the long robe you typically wore. Sometimes, you even tucked one behind your ear as well. The beauty of the harvest and forests were one of the only comforts to your kingdom. Otherwise, it all just felt lonely to you, and like you didn’t truly belong there.

“Yes mother?” you rolled your eyes before you turned to face her. You already knew what she came to see you about and you dreaded it. 

“Persephone you know you can’t spend all your time out here. You have responsibilities,” she always pushed your royal duties on you and then some, and you hated it. She always seemed more concerned for what you could offer her than what you were as a person, and it got under your skin more than you liked to admit.

You felt trapped in your role, in your kingdom. With a defeated sigh, you decided not to argue with her this time, “Yes mother.”

It was another several days before you could sneak out to your garden again, and you felt smothered every minute you stayed within the walls of the palace. It was lavish and beautiful, and the sun always shone through the windows, but you still felt suffocated. With a deep breath, you took in the fresh air and plucked your favorite flower from a nearby bush. As you exhaled you whispered your name, a habit you got yourself into so that you would never forget it. At times, your mother had trouble remembering her birth name, and you didn’t want that for yourself.

As you gazed down the horizon, you suddenly felt a pull to run past the gate that separated your palace and garden from the rest of the kingdom. It was as if a voice inside your head screamed at you to get out, to leave and never look back. You had heard that voice before, and you almost gave in several times. But you always stopped yourself just before you stepped over the threshold. Before you even realized your movements, you moved forward until your body lined up with the border.

Beyond the lush of your own kingdom lay a more barren land, and you could see the darkness shadow in the distance. It should have scared you, you should have wanted to stay away from it. And yet, you couldn’t help but feel a pull towards it instead. The kingdom in the distance was the complete opposite of yours: where yours was sunny and colorful, the other land was dark and dull. It looked as if the land was lifeless, though you knew it had a daily large population.

You looked back over your shoulder, and when you didn’t see anyone, you finally took the next step.

Once you started, you couldn’t stop and you ran as fast as you could. For the first time in your adult life, you felt free. Some of your flowers fell off in your haste, but plenty more still decorated your figure. The one that you had tucked behind your ear stayed somehow, and since it was your favorite you were grateful for that little comfort. The weight of your royal title felt far away, and you could just be you. Even as the darkness and emptiness of the land surrounded you more and more, you embraced it. 

It was a quiet land, and you stayed in the forests and away from any villages to stay hidden. The trees were so dark they were almost black, and hardly any vegetation grew on them. You became more aware of how much you stood out here; a lone flower among the dirt, a lone light in the darkness. Nevertheless, you kept on the move.

Suddenly, you heard the sound of footsteps behind you, and you spun around to find that you were no longer alone in the dark forest. A hooded figure emerged from the shadows, and though it didn’t seem to move quickly, it still somehow ended up in your space before you realized it. You let out a gasp as the figure reached out and grabbed your arm, and even this close, you couldn’t see a face. The flower that was securely tucked behind your ear fell to the ground from your sudden harsh movement.

“What are you doing here?” the hooded figure asked. His voice was deep and gruff, yet void of any malice. His hood completely covered his face, and from this close you could see that he also donned a mask for added anonymity. On his belt, he carried several weapons, and the deep black sword especially stood out. You could also see the armor he wore over his robes glisten in the low light. This was obviously someone you did not want to mess with.

“I…” you were at a loss for words. What could you say? It wasn’t like you wanted to divulge who you were or that you ran away from your kingdom. But you also didn’t want to seem like someone who had gotten lost in the woods either.

“Aren’t you a long way from home… Persephone?” you heard the slight smirk in his voice. He kept a grip on your arm, but it didn’t feel like a threat for some reason.

Your eyes went wide; how did he know who you were? Maybe you should have grabbed a cloak or something so that your features were hidden, but it was too late for that now. Strangely, you didn’t feel as scared as you should have been around him. It almost felt as if the voice in your head that pulled you forward led you right to him. Was that how he found you too? Was there a voice that pulled him as well?

In the distance, you could hear the howls of wolves: the Cerberus. Legend had it that a pack of black-fured wolves guarded the border to the kingdom. Some would even say that it wasn’t even an entire wolf pack, but just three unusually large dogs. Those who have glimpsed it say that they move as one, appearing as if they were one large beast with three heads.

The hooded stranger took your silence as an answer on its own and ushered you through the forest and away from the howls, “Come with me,” he spoke in a low tone. He left it unsaid, but he felt an immediate need to protect you and keep you safe, and that started with getting you out of the darkened woods.

It felt like a whirlwind, and you couldn’t even react as he led you to an unknown destination. As the outline of a dark castle came into view, realization dawned on you and you figured out who had found you, “Hades…” you breathed out.

He let out a single sharp laugh, “You’re smarter than you look,” he replied.

Hades was both well known and a complete mystery to everyone, even other royals. His kingdom was shrouded in shadow, the night to the day that was your own kingdom. He had a reputation for being a loner, and he was ruthless to any enemy who stood in his way. And no one had ever seen his face. You wondered if he even remembered his real name or if he was among those who had forgotten it.

Rumor was that he belonged to an ancient sect, the Mandalorians if you remembered correctly, and it was part of their teachings to never show their faces, but no one knew for sure. For the most part, Hades’ kingdom, the Underworld as it was nicknamed, was left alone. And that was how everyone preferred it.

You tried to struggle, but his grip was too strong, and though he did not hold you hard enough to hurt, you still failed to break yourself free. How did you find yourself so easily taken by Hades? Technically you did run away and into his territory, so were you really his prisoner? He did not seem interested in harming you, but he did not seem to want to release you so easily either.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” he seemed to sense your hesitation and in his words he spoke the truth. He would never hurt you, not when he just found you. 

His words took you off guard and you looked into the blackness of his hood, “Then why don’t you let me go?” you offered back in as confident a voice as you could muster.

At that, he said nothing. You let out a dramatic sigh as you decided not to struggle for the time being. As your eyes darted around, you became increasingly aware of how much you contrasted your new surroundings. Everything was dark and plain compared to the robe adorned with flowers you wore. And yet, something about Hades’ palace was almost comforting in a strange way. Maybe it was because nothing about the castle was exactly lavish. It seemed to exist only for utility and not for show like your own palace was. It was much smaller than your own as well.

“Stay here,” he broke the silence as he left you in a small room and disappeared through the doorway.

There wasn’t much to the room, just a table with a bowl of fruits on it and a couple of chairs. As you eyed the bowl, your stomach started to growl and it dawned on you that you hadn’t eaten in some time. You looked around as you wondered if you should eat some of the food on the table. He had left you in a room with the bowl, which had to be on purpose, and he didn’t explicitly say that you couldn’t. 

With a shrug, you decided that a little snack couldn’t hurt anybody. Besides, who knew how long you would be here? You grabbed the brightest thing on the table: a handful of pomegranate seeds. They were surprisingly tasty, and you wondered how something this luscious grew in such an unforgiving land.

You had no idea how long you stayed in that little room. It was hard to tell the difference between night and day in this kingdom, but eventually you relaxed into one of the chairs and drifted off.

When you woke up again, you were in a different room and laid out in a soft bed. You furrowed your brown in confusion before you shot up to stand. The room was small; there was only space for a bed and a dresser with a small bathroom attached. One thing that did catch your eye, however, was there was a single flower laid out on the dresser. Upon closer inspection, you noticed that it was your favorite: similar to the one you had tucked behind your ear when you first encountered Hades. But, you could tell it was not the same one.

“What…?” you whispered to yourself as you picked up the flower and rolled it gently in your hands. 

Your thoughts were interrupted, however, when the door to the room suddenly burst open and Hades’ hooded figure stepped into the room. The two of you just stared at each other in silence for several long minutes. Your mind went in a thousand directions as you looked into the abyss of his face and you wondered what was going through his mind. Faintly, you also realized that the pull you had felt for so long as stopped now that he was in front of you.

“You like the flower?” he finally asked in a raspy voice.

“I… Yes,” you fiddled with it as you stuttered, surprised that the gift was from him.

He let out a soft laugh that you wouldn’t have heard had the room not been so quiet. It was a nice laugh, and it made you wonder if the rumors about him were all wrong. Sure he was an intimidating figure when you first met, but he seemed to be nothing but kind to you, even if he was your captor. Is that what he was? Ever since you left home, everything felt so strange and so upside down that you weren’t even sure about your current predicament. And yet, you didn’t feel afraid. This man was armed head to toe, and yet you felt completely safe with him.

“Follow me,” he broke the silence again as he stepped just outside the door.

You blinked a few times before you set the flower down and did as you were told, “How long was I asleep?” you asked as you fell into line a few steps behind him.

“All night,” he replied shortly. Both of you were silent after that. 

He led you down a hallway into a larger chamber that was beautifully lit with candles. Your mouth hung open at the sight, and the light was a welcome warmth after all the darkness that engulfed you since you were brought here. A man in a white robe stood at an altar at the end of the room and it took you a moment to recognize that your mother and father stood nearby. Demeter had a sullen look on her face while your father remained stoic.

“What is going on?” you asked, since no one wanted to break the tense silence in the room.

“We’re getting married,” Hades replied matter-of-factly. When you just stared at him, he continued, “Your father arranged it so that we can unite our kingdoms in peace.”

You were too dumbfounded to say anything and the ceremony went by in a blur. It was mostly a formality, nothing special or extravagant. It wasn’t that you were opposed to marriage, but you certainly did not think you would end up married like this. Sure it happened at times to unite kingdoms or bring peace to warring lands, but you had been groomed since childhood to take over the throne yourself, not get married off.

“Why did you have to do this, Persephone?” Demeter shook your shoulders once the vows were exchanged, “Why couldn’t you just listen to me and do your duty? Why did you have to eat the seeds?” she berated you with questions and you wanted nothing more than to run away again.

Truthfully, you didn’t even think of the consequences when you ate the pomegranate seeds, but Hades had argued that since you ate food from his kingdom and accepted his gift of the flower that you were bound to his land now. But, he struck a deal with your father that you could return home for half of the year if you ruled the Underworld at his side.

Rage burned within you as your mind caught up to your body. You felt used and tricked, which you expected from your parents, but not from your newly found companion. Why did you hold him in a higher regard than them? You didn’t think too much about it and shook the thought from your head. You ran away to escape the life that was expected of you, not to fall further into it. With a huff, you stormed out of the chamber and back into the room that you had woken up in.

You slammed the door shut behind you and leaned back against it with your eyes closed as tears of anger slowly fell down your cheeks. With a few deep breaths to calm yourself, you opened your eyes again and almost immediately they landed on the flower. What was once a beautiful gift now became an ugly reminder of your situation. You stomped over and grabbed the flower harshly and opened the window to throw it out.

Just as you were about to swing your arm, however, you froze. For some reason, you couldn’t bring yourself to do it. You tightened your grip on the flower as you tried again to throw it out, and again you couldn’t do it. With a defeated huff, you tossed it onto the dresser instead and collapsed onto your bed. 

Your bed?

You closed your eyes as you thought about what would happen next. A thousand questions ran through your mind. You could run away again, but where would you go? Was this any better than what you came from? Was it worse? Why did this Hades marry you so quickly after meeting once? Why were you more angry about not being consulted about this than being married to him? Why did you feel this pull to him? Did he feel that pull towards you?

Eventually your mind was able to quiet itself and you drifted off to sleep. Between your emotions and the way your mind raced, you found yourself exhausted already. And you just wanted to escape this realm for a little while and just dream. When you dreamed, you dreamed about him. 

What you didn’t know, however, was that everything you had felt was reflected in the blank stare of Hades’ hood. He found you in the forest because he felt a pull towards you; a pull he had felt every time he looked in the direction of your kingdom. To finally see you in person was more than he could have asked for, and he was captivated by you immediately. You couldn’t see it, but underneath the hood, he had a look of pure adoration for you. And more nights than not, he dreamed of you. In those dreams too, you always used his real name: Din Djarin. 

~

Notes: I hope y’all like what I came up with for this AU. I didn’t want to do a strait retelling and I took some creative liberties with this to make it unique. Chapters 2 and 3 are drafted and I’ll be updating this on Mondays so there won’t be a long wait for chapter 2. And I normally wouldn’t be specific about the pomegranates since not everyone likes them but since that’s a big part of the myth, I had to put it in here lol.

[espressokiri]

I Love You Either Way

Izuku Midoriya x GN! Reader

For @brandmeyelena : reader loves midoriya very much and confessed, midoriya was flustered and decided to accept it (reader was ecstatic), however he has no feelings for reader at all. He doesn’t know how to break up with reader so he just lets it be.

Warnings: Angst, One sided love, Heartbreak, Death.

Genre: Angst.

(Y/n) was sorted out to be an outcast in middle school because of their interest in the quirkless boy in class. Ridicule did nothing to prevent them from getting to know the boy, intrigued in his interest in heroes and longing to be enrolled in U.A.

They were quick to defend the freckled boy when Bakugou targeted him on certain days, gazing in affection when he would go on a muttering tangent, unaware of his thoughts being said out loud. (Y/n) fell in love with the way Midoriya would not be afraid to show his vulnerability and emotions, to show them his passions and drawings of analysis. Midoriya on the other hand was in awe of gaining such a friend. 

F r i e n d.

Oh how he wished he knew the inner feelings of the one he called friend. It was not until they confessed that left him in a stuttering, red-faced daze that he realized there was hidden meaning behind (Y/n)’s gestures. Being the most observant boy meant nothing when he was dense about feelings. 

The hand brushes while walking to and from school, the small gifts he would find in his backpack from them, the lingering hugs that seem to be longer than usual.

“Izuku, I’ve admired you for a long time. Please accept my feelings!” (Y/n) was not shy while confessing, they stared Midoriya in the eyes with such passion that the male could not refuse in the state of shock he was put in. 

It did not seem to be a bad idea at the time, a relationship was forged on the foundation of friendship and they were friends already with similar interests. Midoriya brushed it off and thought he harboured the same feelings, not aware of why and how a relationship actually begins. 

(Y/n) on the other hand couldn't be happier, they seemed to glow around Midoriya and felt that they were on cloud nine on the daily. Bakugou glowered at them in class, huffing at how disgusting their relationship was.

Midoriya had dedicated a book to (Y/n) filled with sketches of them, some pages for the purpose of analyzing their quirk, other pages filled with mundane sketches of them on their adventurous dates. (Y/n) found a second home with Inko Midoriya who adored them, happy that her son was finally himself without the fear of him being bullied. 

It was when they first shared a kiss that Midoriya had come to terms with his feelings. He did not carry the same emotions for (Y/n) as they did. He felt like he would disappoint them so he kept himself quiet, wondering if they would lose feelings for him if he carried on as friends instead.

The time for U.A. came around, (Y/n) was not aware of Midoriya training with All Might. They only knew he was physically training with a ‘personal’ trainer of his. During the training period, they would make sure to cater to Midoriya’s needs, keep him hydrated and help him with homework and studies as he would fall asleep in class muttering to himself most of the time. 

Betrayal was evident during the quirk evaluation test when Midoriya seemed to showcase his quirk. He looked nervous facing both Bakugou, who was voicing his anger, and (Y/n) who had a look of disappointment hidden in their eyes. They avoided Midoriya that day, watching from afar as he happily conversed with Iida and Uraraka. 

It wasn’t until Bakugou grabbed (Y/n) by the front of their uniform and yelled at them with one hand exploding with his quirk for an explanation that Midoriya came in-between and pulled (Y/n) away. They didn’t seem to want to put up a fight with either male and allowed themselves to be dragged around. 

Midoriya ‘explained’ that he was an apparent late bloomer and thats why he was training for months, to control his quirk. (Y/n) was apprehensive but accepted his apology after he stated he didn’t tell them because he wanted to surprise them.

-

“I love you.” 

The USJ attack had (Y/n) tremble with uncertainty of their future, they said those three words to Midoriya when he woke up from being taken care of by Recovery Girl.

Midoriya just nodded his head and looked away.

(Y/n) thought nothing of it until Ochako ran to him once they reentered the class, he seemed to brighten up at the sight of her and (Y/n)’s face soured.

This event kept replaying in their mind as the days progressed. The texts became dry, the reply time took hours, calls weren’t picked up as quick as they were before. (Y/n) could feel the distance between them but they didn’t want to give up, no, they held too much emotion for the boy. 

Bakugou took note of all the differences between the two from the sidelines, despite his dislike for the pair, he felt pity for (Y/n). Scoffing at them as (Y/n) still tried to hold their relationship together by a thread. He felt anger towards Midoriya for not manning up and revealing his true feelings, instead dragging (Y/n) along with him. 

“Hey dumbass.” Bakugou huffed and (Y/n) looked up at him from their position beside Midoriya. Uraraka, Iida, and Midoriya looked at Bakugou with wide eyes wondering why he sauntered his way to their lunch table. 

“Hm?”

Bakugou yanks (Y/n) from the table and drags them out of the cafeteria, ignoring the protests from Midoriya and (Y/n). 

“What the hell Bakugou!” 

“Shut up dumbass! I’m sick of you pining after the nerd when we all know he does not feel the same.” Bakugou crossed his arms across his chest and glowered at them.

(Y/n) was void of emotion, they knew he was right but they didn’t care. They would be together, they’ve been through so much together. They love him, they’ll make him love them.

“We love each other.” (Y/n) said before turning to walk back to the cafeteria. “You’re going to get yourself killed!” Bakugou yelled after them, “If I do then at least I’ll know I’ve loved!” (Y/n) yelled back.

Their grip on his hands became stronger, the kiss on cheek before a task was a must, they’d try to converse with him about their future, joking about how they’d be the coolest pro-hero couple.

(Y/n) was losing themselves as they saw Midoriya remove himself from their approach. (Y/n) knew it was only a matter of time before he would end up saving Uraraka before them. They held no bitterness towards the girl, they’re aware that she’s just as innocent as she looks. If Midoriya wanted them to back off then he would have said something by now, he hasn’t said anything so he must still have feelings for them, right?

Perhaps they did hold the same passion as the girl they came across during the attack in the training camp. Toga was it? Either way, Toga had realized (Y/n)’s feelings for Midoriya as she chattered on about a green haired boy she came across. Maybe they should have accepted the offer to join her in gaining his feelings back for her by following her into the warp gate, maybe he would have come after them. 

(Y/n) was aware that they were losing interest in becoming a hero after all the attacks from the league, they didn’t seem that bad. They were beings who were outcasted and betrayed themselves. (Y/n) did not know what was right or wrong anymore. Everyone in class had noticed their change in behaviour, the dead look in their eyes as they lost all the light in them that once glowed bright. 

Midoriya, they’d do it for Midoriya.

-

Blood.

There was so much blood. (Y/n) took the hit for him. The burning sensation where they got impaled from Chisaki’s quirk was beginning to numb. How stupid of them to act all heroic for a boy who didn’t even mutter those three words that (Y/n) seemed to tell him everyday. 

They were only fifteen. Fifteen and feeling the bittersweet embrace of death. Midoriya was hovering above them, tears spilling over and dripping onto (Y/n). He was finally giving them the attention they craved for the past year at U.A.

Midoriya pressed his hands against the wound, (Y/n) whimpering in pain at the pressure. “It wasn’t supposed to be like this. I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry (Y/n). We can fix this, keep your eyes open okay? I’ll go defeat Chisaki and it’ll all be okay.”

(Y/n) shakily grabbed his face with their bloody one, “tell me you love me and I’ll forgive you.” Tears gathered at their eyes as they begged in their mind for him to put them at ease.

Midoriya was frantic, he didn’t want to lie. He was aware of the rift between them, he should have been straightforward with his feelings from day one. Perhaps if he did, they wouldn’t be in this predicament right now. 

“Even if you don’t feel the same, please. Just this once.” Their voice cracked and sobs racked their body. Their hand slid from his face to grip onto his hero suit.

“I love you! I love you, please hold on for me!” Midoriya gripped them tightly in his embrace, his own sobs breaking through. “I should have been more honest with you, I’m sorry!”

“It was my fault for not giving up on you, I knew how you felt but I couldn’t let you go.” (Y/n) smiled a broken smile, relishing in his embrace during their final moments.

“Tell Bakugou he was right, I did get myself killed huh?” (Y/n) dryly laughed.

Midoriya felt a wave of cold through his veins. Bakugou knew? Did he really say that to them?

His anxiety grew worse as (Y/n) began to feel like dead weight, their eyes glazing over and breathing shallow. “(Y/n)? (Y/n)!” He screamed as he gripped them tightly. 

(Y/n) was there with him through his lowest time, watching him grow into a hero in training when he had lost all hope. They were there when he felt frustrated with himself during training and offered him a shoulder when he felt like he had nowhere to go. He didn’t feel like a hero as he held them in his arms. A hero would have been upfront about everything, he failed them. He failed (Y/n). Now he’s going to have to live with knowing he was the reason they spilt blood.

[cheekygreenty]

Little Witch - Part 15

The Darkling x reader

Time was in fact ticking and as minutes went on, your palms got sweatier and your heart never stopped thumping in your chest. Any minute now Aleksander could stroll into your chambers flanked by oprichniki and have you arrested. You had crossed the line and you acknowledged that but there was no other way to do it with him. He was never going to sit down and have a regular conversation with you where he detailed his plans out step by step, even if you said please and begged on your knees.

It was morning now and still no word from Aleksander. You had to return to your boring duties of reading trade agreements and approving Grisha posts at the war fronts, none of which passed the time any quicker. You skipped breakfast and threw on the first kefta that caught your eye, only making sure it wasn't black. A simple summoner blue, to reflect your sullen mood.

A knock on your door caught you by surprise but you opened it anyway to reveal your least favorite Heartrenderer sulking at your doorstep.

'Ivan'

'The General requests to see you'

'He sent his puppy to fetch me, how cute' You open the door wider to let yourself through letting a deep breath go in preparation. Ivan sent you a glare worth a thousand words, something along the lines of I hate you.

'Relax, I'm only jesting'

The walk to Aleksander's quarters was silent. Ivan wasn't the chatty type and even if he was, he probably wouldn't have much to say to you.

As you went to open the grand double doors, he caught your wrist tightly

'Don't lay a finger on him again, or I'll rip your heart from your chest' He warned. Either Aleksander tattled the events that took place yesterday or Ivan was eavesdropping, your gut told you it was the latter.

'I didn't take you as the type to disrespect your elders Ivan' You didn't care to return his tone of voice. He was simply Aleksander's lapdog, not somebody to be scared of or feared.

'Run along now' You dismissed him, watching as he huffed and turned down the hallway.

Aleksander sat at the same desk as yesterday except now he faced you. He was back to his normal self, void of emotion and collected in his embroidered black kefta. You sat down on a random chair, clearing your throat.

'Did you finally come to your senses?' You weren't here for pleasantries or to dance around the subject, you needed answers.

'Of sorts. Yes'

'Get to it then, you have a lot of explaining to do. And remember, I know when you're lying' You tapped the skin above your heart, indicating that he had no way out but to tell truth.

'Ask away.'

'How are you going to weaponize the Fold?'

'Alina. She can let us get through it, I can expand it into the borders.'

'How?'

'The stag. I'll use it to control her powers as well as amplify my own. She won't comply otherwise. ' He's going to use Merzost to control the Sun-Summoner.

'The King?'

'Gradually being poisoned by Ms.Safin. He'll take to being ill when the time comes.'

'You're not going to kill him?' To ascend the throne, the King needs to die.

'In time' You took a quick pause and let the information settle. You still needed to ask the most important question and you feared once he answered it, your heart would break in two.

'Alina.'

'Yes. Alina'

'Is it real?'

He took a sharp inhale and pondered for a quick second while you held yours.

'Not anymore.'

'Anymore?'

'Before you got here, perhaps there was something, But not now. I swear on the Saints. All she is is a key to more power. Everything we've ever wanted lies in our future if we play our cards right Y/N' You were sitting too far away from him, but his hands still itched to reach for yours.

'I'm suspecting there is a downside to all of this'

'I need her to trust me.'

'And the only way to do that is by loving her I assume' You hung your head low when he gave a small nod.

'I wish there was another way. She's young and blinded by her friend Mal to see what's truly happening'

'What if she finds out?'

'We'll cross that bridge when we get to it' He stood up from his seat and kneeled beside you, firmly holding your knees.

'You're not a loose cannon Y/N. I didn't want to tell you because if I told you about Alina, you would seek us out and watch. I don't want you to see me with her' You recognized that everything he said was true, his heart hadn't skipped a beat since you got here.

'I'm sorry for the other night, for what I said. I didn't mean it' Throughout your years with Aleksander, you had witnessed him apologize to you and every time he did, his eyes were the true apology. They reflected his whole soul, bared his deepest emotions to you, and begged for forgiveness with immense desperation in ways that his words couldn't. This was no exception.

'We all say things we don't mean in the heat of the moment' All it took was those simple words for his eyes to wash away the guilt and reappear filled with affection.

'Why didn't you tell me about Zoya?'

He sighed again, resting his forehead against your arm 'I don't know'

'Are you done with her?'

'She was just an outlet Y/N, I truly haven't loved anybody since you. You crowded my dreams and my daily thoughts, do you really think I could move on?' He gave a gentle laugh with an undertone of embarrassment at his inability to get over you.

'I'm flattered'

Although the areas of the future that involved Alina rubbed you the wrong way for many reasons, you were glad to finally know the things Aleksander kept from you. No doubt there were things you omitted that would come up in due time, but you had gone what caused you the most stress.

'Will you finally stop running away from me? I've barely had any time to enjoy your presence' His hand came up to your face, nudging a thin piece of hair away. You melted into his touch, grabbing him by the shoulders and embracing him tightly, forcing both of you to stand. He held you as close, if not tighter.

'I'll do anything you want me to if it means you trust me again' His words stuck in your mind as he spoke against your hair. Your statement must have cut him deep. It hurt you too, you loved this man, you've loved him for more than a century, and being scared to trust him dwindled your memory of him.

You were the first to pull away but only for a second as your lips crashed onto his. It wasn't rough or needy, it was sweet and reflected your love for him. It was the kind of kiss you imagined when you dreamed of him at your weakest; when your dreams were vivid and lucid in comparison to your feverish body as it lay on the brink of death.

'Have you eaten?' He asked as you wrapped your arms around him yet again, not ready to let go.

'Not yet, but give me a minute' You closed your eyes, reveling in his scent and warm touch.

At last, I finally got my hug.

***

It was later on in the day now, you had forced yourself away from Aleksander after breakfast and retreated into your chambers, sifting through documents and pointless papers. You barely read them as you signed away, doing the tedious work Aleksander passed onto you as he focused on the stag. You didn't know much about the animal and willingly chose to stay out of the affair, never really caring for the amplifier. For now, all that it entailed was chasing false leads and ending up at dead-ends. Not your cup of tea.

The Winter fete was coming up and much to your displeasure, you were asked to make sure the Sun-Summoner was up to scratch for her showcase. It was important she makes a good impression on the foreign ambassadors, Ravka needed stronger alliances now that Zlatan was claiming the West needed to break away. He was colluding with the druskelle to capture Grisha, and wherever your Grisha were concerned, you had to get involved.

You realized the measly reports of Alina's progress weren't enough and you had to go right to the source. There wasn't a single part of you that looked forward to stepping into that boiling hut and conversing with the rude woman, but work had to be done.

You took your time walking down, chatting to bystanding Grisha and trying to stall, you really weren't in the mood to be bullied. You didn't bother to knock, you just waltzed in and searched the dark for her hunched figure.

'You again' You could've sworn she appeared out of thin air as her voice carried disgust along the room, it usually did when it came to speaking to you but you stopped caring a long time ago.

'Why are you back, Witch'

With the track record Baghra had with you, the nickname never failed to fuel your temptation to throttle her.

---

Part 16

Taglist (tell me if you want to be added to the Little Witch taglist!!)

@theonelittleone @searching-for-gallifrey @0-artemis @lostysworld @xceafh @fire-in-her-veinz @patdsinner33 @cleverzonkwombatsludge @wizardwheezes @aleksanderwh0r3 @tomhollandisabae @hotleaf-juice @justmesadgirl @exo-1204 @houseofdupree @oberonpascal @eireduchess @lunas1x1

[mango-miso]

a cursed date

In which the date with your s/o goes awfully wrong, as all things do. Albeit, you’re both sorcerers, so suck it up dude. 

𝐅𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐎𝐌: Jujutsu Kaisen

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒 𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐋𝐔𝐃𝐄𝐃: Fushiguro, Gojou

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: None

FUSHIGURO MEGUMI ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

Warm light spilled through the windows of the homely cafe. A soft jazz melody played in the background, fitting the atmosphere of the peaceful area. You were sitting in your seat with your legs jiggling beneath the table. Appreciating this break you so desperately needed, your heart also skipped a beat at the dark haired male in front of you. Nothing could go wrong today. 

It took a long time to convince Fushiguro Megumi to join you on a date. Every time you tried to bring it up, his eyes would flit away and he’d stuff his hands into his trouser’s pockets. He wouldn’t admit it, but he was obviously embarrassed to do anything like this. 

The only reason he said yes was because Gojou had overheard your invitation and forced him to go. It was a little sad that that was the reason, but alas, he seemed to be enjoying himself in this moment. 

“How’s the coffee?” you asked him. Being the quiet person he was, it always prompted that you’d start the conversation. To this, you didn’t mind; on the other hand, he liked to listen to you speak. 

“It’s not bad,” he murmured, lowering his dark blue eyes in thought. 

You smiled crookedly and crossed your arms across your chest, looking pleased. “And here you were avoiding me just because I kept asking you out.”

He grew slightly red, ducking his head down adorably. “It wasn’t on purpose.”

You raised a brow. “Anyway, this is a nice break from the daily shenanigans, right? You’ve been looking exhausted lately.”

His hues landed on you once again and he nodded in agreement, his features softening. You cared for his wellbeing so much -- he still wasn’t so used to such affection. All he knew was that he liked it... he liked you. “Thank you for this. I mean it.”

You could feel your cheeks warm and before you could utter out a response, a shriek in the distance turned heads. In one of the back booths of the cafe was a young woman, who had fallen to the floor and cowering from something looming over. Other customers were running out of the tiny shop in panic, as quick as their legs could take them. Stomach twisting within itself, you clumsily got up and exchanged a look with Fushiguro. This could only mean one thing.

Dammit! Of course there had to be a curse here of all things... on your date night too! You wanted nothing more to do than rip out all your hair.

Stupid Curse. It was going to pay for interrupting your precious time with your love. 

Running towards the suffocated air, you quickly swooped in and pulled the fainted young woman away. You got a close look at the curse. A goopy, green slimeball with too many eyeballs, it was chilling on the table and had noticed the sorcerers. By the looks of it, it wasn’t too strong. You and Fushiguro should be able to manage just fine. 

The woman was heaved to the farthest table away and you quickly returned to Fushiguro’s side. Before he could summon his shikigamis, you had rushed into battle. Using your curse energy, you began to fight the thing carelessly, mind growing red in frustration and anger. 

Suddenly, it grew arms. Going for your blind spot, it had smacked you across the room, crashing you into the wall. It knocked the air out of you, causing you to wheeze in pain. Shit. 

Struggling to get back onto your feet, a pair of arms suddenly entered your peripheral vision. It was none other than Fushiguro, who had wrapped his arms around you and dodged the curse’s second attack on time. 

“What the hell were you thinking?” he asked you, his usual calm voice colored in slight anger. “Don’t underestimate the curses. You can’t just go in blindly like that.”

“I just... wanted to get back to our date as soon as possible,” you sighed, looking guilty. “I’m sorry. I sound really petty now.”

He seemed surprised by your response, blinking for a few seconds. 

Afterwards, he summoned his shikigamis and with a helping hand, the two of you destroyed the curse easily.

Even when the danger was cleared, he had hugged you, leaving you shocked. "If you die, I’ll kill you, [L/N]. Promise me you won’t do that again. Promise and I’ll go on as many dates as you want.”

You laughed and nodded in agreement. “I promise.”

GOJO SATORU ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

When he asked you out to the amusement park, you instantly agreed, excited to spend time with the fellow sorcerer. And when you got there, you were not disappointed in the slightest. The skies were of a bright blue, void from any clouds. The color of it reminded you of Gojou’s eyes.

Of course, his eyes were being covered by that dark blindfold he always wore. The only times you ever saw his eyes were when he was in battle. Even then, that was a rarity. 

The structures of the park was amazing. It was filled of roller coasters, rides, shops, restaurants, and more. Families, friends, little children, and elders were all there, enjoying their time spent together. The sight of it was wholesome and it made a smile grow on your face, but the skilled sorcerer beside you had other things in mind. 

“Cotton candy!” he exclaimed, bouncing over to the stand that handed out the fluffy pieces. He looked over to you, who had a disdain look on your face. He jutted his lip out. “Can we get one? Please?” 

“Why are you asking me? Are you not an adult?” you pointed out, chuckling while shaking your head. He was so childish sometimes... goodness. It was a wonder how this kind of man was the renown sorcerer who’s supposedly the strongest. You would not lie that you were sometimes intimidated by him, for he was in a level higher than you could ever achieve. 

It also made you insecure... because why had he fallen in love with you, of all people? It wasn’t that you were weak. But you weren’t one of the strongest either.

His demeanor brightened and he quickly paid for the candy. Shaking your thoughts away, you decided to just enjoy today as it was. Overthinking would only lead you to ruin. 

“Can we go into that haunted house over there?” he asked you, pointing a slender finger in a direction. You turned to look at it and scowled. 

“Sounds too similar to curses. Why don’t we go on a roller coaster instead?”

He tapped his chin in pretentious thought. “But I heard from rumors that [L/N] here is scared of gory stuff, despite being a sorcerer. Do you think that’s true?”

You narrowed your eyes. “Is this a challenge? Fine. I’ll prove to you that I’m not scared of anything.” Digging your fingers into his forearm and ignoring his complaints about the pain, you dragged him into the attraction. 

It was dark inside and a lot horror aspects decorated the place. It was enough to have your heart go wild. Okay, okay... fine! Gojou was right about you being scared. But it wasn’t like you’d ever admit it. However, only now, did you realize your grave mistake. It was too late to back out now. How the hell were you supposed to keep a poker face on for the entirety of this attraction?

A monster jumped out from the shadows, scaring the shit out of you. Yelping out in fright, you latched onto your partner and hid behind his back. At the sight of this, he let out a laugh, holding his stomach and wiping away imaginary tears. “Didn’t expect you to lose so quick.”

“S-Shut up!” you snapped, the fear still noticeable in your tone. He only laughed again, but had suddenly stilled when he detected something. 

“Hang on,” he whispered. In the next split second, a metal bar had dropped towards right where the two of you were standing. Fortunately, he had held onto you and dodged to the side in the last moment. You looked at the large thing in horror. What the hell was happening? Were the staff here trying to kill you guys or what?

That was when it clicked. There was a curse here. 

“Wait right here,” Gojou murmured to you, running off before you could protest. 

He was going to fight without you...

Were you deemed so useless that you couldn’t even help him? Hugging yourself, you found yourself sinking deep into your insecurities yet again. Today was supposed to be lovely date, but after this, you weren’t sure if you had any energy left to continue. 

When he came back, he looked all the same, with a small smile on his lips. No injury nor scratch was laid on him. That was expected. Planting a kiss atop your head, he smelled your aroma and thought home. “Sorry about that. The problem’s already solved though, so don’t you worry your pretty little head.”

"I’m guessing there won’t be any more monsters in this haunted house.” The staff members were probably scared off from the commotion Gojou must’ve made. 

He grinned and ruffled your hair. “What a shame. I was hoping to see more reactions from you.”

[ash-writies]

Nothing But Tongues and Teeth

A/n: This took a lot longer to write than I thought, about 2k words of angst, I hate writing serious moments but here I am :/ also happy father's day

Bolin X GN!Reader

There you were, seated across the table from a man whose name you didn’t even know. Your parents sat beside you and talked with him. Their words didn’t form into sentences as they hit your ears. Suddenly there was a hand on your shoulder.

“Have fun you two,” your mother called, her voice as sweet as honey to the untrained ear. Although you heard her truly, her venomous voice chiming like bells. What she meant was, “don’t mess this up.”

“So, y/n-” the man started. Before he could even finish his thought he caught your glare.

“There is nothing you can give me,” you began, keeping a porcelain smile on your face, “I’ve grown a mouth so sharp and cruel it’s all that I can give to you, my dear~” Venom hung in those last two words. He froze like a man caught in the path of a cobra, the snake ready to strike at any minute. You knew the severity of your words, if he left and never saw you again your parents would be unhappy. Anything was better than this though. Better than wasting your life serving a man who’d never truly care about you

“Excuse me?” the nameless man asked, mostly in confusion. His green eyes were fixed on your face, looking for something.

“I didn’t stutter,” you said, sipping from the drink placed in front of you. His eyes flickered from your eyes to your lips for a moment.

“I’m Bolin,” he introduced himself, “I reckon you didn’t know that before?” An amused smile spread across his face. His smile was way different from the other smiles you saw. His smile stretched across his lips and infected his cheeks, it caused the lights in his eyes to dance, it even introduced its happiness to his eyebrows.

“Whatever,” you began, “I’m not marrying you and that’s it!” Your voice was stern and true. You caught a flicker of doubt taint his face, and for a moment you felt bad. Then the moment was gone.

“I don’t think that’s up to you,” he said coolly and leaned back in his chair.

“I’m not going to be the perfect housewife that you want,” you tried to counter, “and when you come in quick to steal a kiss my teeth will only cut your lips, my dear~” You leaned in after those words left your mouth.

He frowned, “I don’t need a housewife first of all. Secondly, you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.” You paused and took in what he said. If he didn’t want to control you then what was the point of this? Was this just some manipulation thing?

“I know that you mean so well, but I am not a vessel for your ‘good intents’”

“You’re right, but I still want to marry you,” He said, smiling at you. Everything was a blur after that. As soon as he finished his sentence, your parents returned to you both. They heard his last sentence and were more than happy to start discussing wedding plans.

As your wedding day came closer and closer, it felt that more and more was out of your hands. Most of your belongings were taken and packed up so it would be easy to move them right after your wedding. Your mother was quite the control freak throughout the whole process. Not that you cared, you didn’t want anything to do with this whole wedding ordeal anyway.

Finally the day of the wedding came, you looked stunning, and if this Bolin fella was there you bet he’d tell you.

“You look amazing,” a voice that sounded like his rang through the air. You sighed, thinking that it was bad luck to see your fiancé before the wedding or something.

“It’s not too late to call off the wedding you know, you said standing up. Time was dragging by at such a slow pace before he spoke,

“I don’t know why I would do such a thing.” He laughed, crossing his arms.

“You don’t know much about me, I will only break your pretty things, and I will only wring you dry of everything.” You walked towards him until your faces were only inches apart.

“But if you’re fine with that, you can be mine like that,” you looked at his lips and back at his eyes. There was something off in his eyes, you didn’t know if it was a good thing but that didn’t matter. You walked past him and continued down the hall to where your mother was waiting.

“Honey, let me fix your hair,” She sang, rushing to you. You sighed and let her pull the strand away from your face. “ I can’t believe my baby’s getting married!”

“You were the one who set this whole thing up,” you muttered, hoping she didn’t hear you.

“Good thing too!” she cheered, “if you’d have done this it would’ve definitely been a disaster. You sigh, not even bothering with a response.

The wedding goes on with blurs of tears and hollers. Colors void of saturation, voices void of emotions, and embraces void of warmth were all that flooded your memory of that joyous day. After that, days of moving your stuff to his place, days of your childhood being up-rooted and discarded, days of memories saying goodbye and being laid to rest. Once the movers left you and Bolin sat on the couch, you were a noticeable distance away from him.

He was the first to speak, “what do you want to eat y/n?” His voice was small and fragile.

“Anything really,” you shrugged, you didn’t do most of the moving so it didn’t really matter.

“How about some pizza then?” He exclaimed, jumping up and grabbed his phone and ordered some. You both ate in awkward silence.

“Let's unpack together,” he said once you were both done eating, trying to lift the mood.

“Sure,” you muttered. You both started on the living room which, for now, only consisted of a couch and a tv that sat on the floor. The first thing you both agreed on doing was building the ikea furniture. Whenever he saw you were getting frustrated he’d add in a joke or do something silly. At first you didn’t notice but after you’d accidentally skipped a step and he said, “this screw stupid won’t in go” that gave away his whole plan. The attempts after that were still kinda funny though.

Before bed he made moves trying to get closer to you. Moves that you tried to ignore at first but you couldn’t stop your outburst, “Abandon all your stupid dreams about the person I could’ve been,” you hesitated before adding in, “my dear~” in the same cynical voice you always say it in. The only good thing that came out of that was that he left you alone for the night.

For a while after that you tried your best to avoid him even though he kept trying to get to know you.

“Why won’t you talk to me?” he whine-asked.

“Because in the night I know you burn with feelings I cannot return,” you answered, momentarily forgetting you were supposed to be ignoring him.

“Why can’t you return them?” he asked normally this time.

You pressed your lips together, “my parents had an arranged marriage and never fell in love, why should I have to?” he shrugged with a dumbfounded look on his face and you left before he could say something that’d make you want to completely confide in him. You ignored him and the way your face heated up for a bit longer. A month has passed since the wedding, and Bolin was desperate to get to know you, bothering you every hour of the day.

“What did you do today?” He asked

“Nothing really,” you lied, your daily life was rather eventful to make sure you never spent a moment resting unless it was planned.

“We should spend some time together sometime,” he suggested.

“You gotta know that this won’t last! Desperation will erase the fact: I’m keeping all of the answers in my cigarette box!” you said, for some reason. You didn’t even know why and you wanted to take it back as soon as you said it. Especially because of the look on his face. Which looked like a kicked puppy.

“If you need space I’ll give you some,” he started standing up, “but I won’t let you speak to me like that.” He was upset, rightfully. He went to your shared room and shut the door. You sat there for a minute. You put your head in your hands for a minute and thought about what you said. You didn’t want to take it back because then he’d want to stay with you. But would it really be bad to have him by your side? Just when you thought you couldn’t feel more conflicted he stepped out of the room with his duffel bag for gym full. Your heart sank but somehow you were comforted with the thought that you knew this was going to happen.

“I’m not leaving forever,” he said, reading your face, “just for a while so you can sort yourself out.

You rolled your eyes, “ You might as well never come back.”

“Why do you feel that way?” he stepped towards you.

“Why do you feel so entitled to me?”

He paused, The answer’s in the second before the other shoe drops,” y/n, I’m not- this was never about that- remember how you said, ‘if you’re blind to that’ well, I’m fine with that,”

You were so torn you were crying, “I will ruin you! I will poison all your happy thoughts, I will love you like the ashes in her cigarette box!” While tears streamed down your cheeks he just looked at you.

“‘Her’?” he asked. You felt your face heat up as he kept walking towards you. Once he reached you he dropped his bag and wrapped his arms around you. “What is going through your head?” he asked.

You let out a choked sob, “why did you marry me?”

“Mostly for the money, but because I thought you’d be a fun person”

You chuckled, “the money?”

“Me and my brother weren’t well off,” he started, “I just wanted to make it so I could support him. Though it’s awful to use someone-”

You cut him off, “here I was thinking you had bad intentions,”

“You never answered my questions,” he swiftly changed the subject and your smile faded.

“I had a really nice dad who loved my mother,” you began, “she loved him too. One day he left, died, all without word or warning. Then my grandparents set my mother up and the next time we weren’t so lucky. There, that was the first question. My mother was distant after her first husband’s death. So yeah”

You really wanted it to end there and Bolin must’ve caught on somehow because he changed the topic again. “So since I’m fine with your many flaws, we can be together?” he said, your head still pressed against his chest.

You laughed, “yeah,”

Fin

[streetlight11]

Less of you

Summary: He lost the love of his life 4 years ago in a car accident. If he had stopped her from going to that party with her friend, maybe she would still be with him till this day. He tried hooking up with other girls but none of them could fill his void. All until he met you. A girl who worked at a café to pay for your school and house bills. You were completely the opposite of his late girlfriend but you look exactly like her. Who are you and would he have the courage to get to know you?

Theme: doppelganger au, strangers to lovers 

Genre: fluff

Warning: death, accident (please don't drink and drive people!)

WC: 3.9k

Pairing: Bang Chan x Reader

a/n: I write when I’m bored so I may not be good. I hope you like it. I didn’t intend to copy anyone if this storyline has been written before! Also, the words in italics are a flashback! :)

“Hey babe, is it okay if I go to the party with Jiyeon?”

“I don’t know babe, I have a bad feeling about this.” Chan said.

“What? Why?”

“I… I’m not sure. I think you should stay home.”

“But babe, it’s Seori’s birthday party. I’m sure she would want me there.” She tried convincing him.

“Lucy-”

“I’ll just be there for a while, I promise I’ll text you when I’m heading home okay?” She smiled, cupping his cheek softly before disappearing down the hall to go to their shared bedroom.

Hours later, Chan was growing tensed and anxious. There was an unexplainable feeling of discomfort settling in the pit of his stomach which he doesn’t know why. He had already texted his close friends about this. All of them said the same thing. And that was to go fetch Lucy from the party. However, before he could leave the comforts of his shared apartment with his girlfriend, his cell phone began to ring obnoxiously on the kitchen island top.

It was from an unknown number but he decided to pick up the call anyway in hopes that he would hear Lucy’s voice. But what he heard next, wasn’t exactly something he thought he would hear. 

“Hello? Is this Mr Bang Chan?” The female voice spoke up on the other line.

“Uhh, yes? Who is this?”

“This is Lee Haneul speaking. I’m calling from Seoul's National Police Station. Can I confirm with you if you are related to Miss Lucy Hale?”

“I’m her boyfriend.”

“I’m really sorry to inform you that your girlfriend was met in a fatal car crash. We are still investigating the accident to find out what’s the cause. But in the meantime, we will need you to come down to the hospital and identify if the victim is indeed Miss Lucy. Will that be okay?”

“Yes. Yes, absolutely.” Chan said, letting the woman give out the address of the hospital he needed to go before hanging up the call.

Right after he clicked the red button, he instantly collapsed to the ground unable to feel his legs. Chan could feel the tears streaming down his face as he hugged his frame tightly. He couldn’t believe he just received that call. He wanted it to be a prank so badly. He didn’t want all of that to be true. 

Nevertheless, he went to the said hospital in search of the love of his life.

The nurse brought him to a female officer who was standing outside a closed hallway with a doctor, where Chan clarified himself to them. The three individuals soon entered the closed doors, letting the doctor lead them straight down to the basement where the mortuary was located.

Once inside, the doctor walked up to one of the silver units. After reading the name on the side of the unit, he opened the unit door only to pull out the metal stretcher that had a covered body in it. Chan had to close his eyes for a second, too afraid to look forward.

He carefully made his way to the doctor. The man proceeds to unzip the top part of the bag. The moment he pulled the bag apart, Chan immediately covered his mouth with one hand desperately as he gripped onto the metal stretcher. He broke down in a matter of seconds, enough proof to the officer that it was indeed who the victim was said to be. She carefully placed a hand on top of Chan’s shoulder while the doctor pressed his lips in a straight line.

“I’m so sorry Lucy… I’m so sorry I didn’t try harder to stop you from going… I’m so sorry…” Chan whispered as he stared at the pale, blood covered female body that he used to call his girlfriend.

With that being said, the doctor proceeded to zip the bag while the officer and Chan left the mortuary. She let out a silent sigh, knowing exactly how he felt at the moment.

“Thank you for being strong and seeing her for the last time. I hope you’ll feel better soon. She’s in a better place now.” She gave him words of comfort. Even though his mind wasn’t really there with him at the moment, he appreciated the officer’s kind words.

He went home that night feeling nothing but utter loss and grief. It took him at least 4 hours to accept the fact that she’s gone and that there was no way of seeing her again.

He broke the news to his close friends, all of which shock and sympathy was mixed together.

They went to her funeral but Chan felt empty.

He thought his life was going to be dull and miserable now that he lost her. He wasn’t sure if he could continue to live but his friends made it a point to let him go on his days without feeling at a loss. They were truly the friends anyone could ask for.

4 years went by where Chan still tends to miss her presence. But instead of grieving about it, he finally accepts the fact that she was no longer on this earth. Despite meeting new people, new potential partners in his life, none of them could seem to fill the void that has been eating him alive for the past few years.

There were some who he had genuine interest in. But somehow, that relationship never worked out and he wasn’t one to dwell on things for too long. For he just simply moves on with his life and goes about his daily routine.

It was a bright Saturday morning, Chan had already promised Changbin and Jisung to have a morning workout session together.

“So… Hyung, are you contacting anyone?” Jisung asked as he turned to Chan who was currently lifting weights.

“No. I haven’t contacted anyone in months…” Chan sighed. Dropping the barbell onto the ground.

“Why not?” Changbin asked out of curiosity.

“I don’t know. I just don’t feel like anyone’s of my interest.” Chan shrugged his shoulders. The two boys looked at each other only to exchange a knowing look which Chan couldn’t bother to even notice. After they were done with the workout session, the boys left the gym to make their way to a nearby café that they had been going to every time they ended their workout.

They had just entered the café, strong coffee bean aroma filling their nostrils as they walked up to the counter. Only for Chan to halt in his steps when he saw just who was standing behind the counter, taking orders. Both Changbin and Jisung also came to a stop when they saw who Chan was staring at.

“No way…” Chan whispered under his breath. Jisung desperately clinged onto Chan’s arms only to ask in a confused tone.

“Umm… Hyung, is that…?”

“No… It can’t be.” Chan said as they carefully made their way closer to the cashier. The three of them queued up behind the rest of the customers but their eyes couldn’t seem to leave her.

After the customer in front of them walked away, the person standing behind the counter finally locked eyes with all three of them before flashing them a warm smile.

“Good morning! What can I get for you today?” She said. Chan was too dumbfounded that he couldn’t even speak so Changbin did it first.

“Hi, can I get one Iced Americano.” She keyed in his order before turning back to the remaining two.

“Anything else?” She asked with a smile.

“Umm, can I get one Iced Tropical Passion Tea?” She nodded as she entered his order into the machine. Just then, the minute she looked up, Chan had the most prominent frown on his face and she wondered why.

“Is there anything I can get for you?” However, when she received no particular reply from him, she decided to joke around.

“You know, if your order is written on my face, I would so gladly take them down for you.” With that, Chan finally snapped out of his trance. He shook his head, letting his brown locks shift from side to side.

“Uhh… right. S-Sorry. I’ll just have a regular Iced Strawberry Lemonade Green Tea.” She smiled and proceeded to key in his order, only for Changbin to hold his card out. After he was done paying, she asked him for his name or initial. Telling him that she will call out to him once the drinks are made.

The guys went over to a table right next to the window but Chan’s eyes were glued on her. Watching as she made their drinks while she joked around with her co-worker.

“She might look like her but she’s definitely not like her.” 

Changbin commented softly before Jisung hummed in agreement. But Chan still couldn’t seem to let this new information digest into his brain. This girl looked exactly like Lucy except maybe her style and her hair colour but her face was like a copy paste of Lucy.

Lucy was slightly girly and definitely more fashionable in terms of the things she wore. She always loved branded items. She wore mostly dresses or skirts everyday, with designer clothes. She normally wore heels and tends to look richer than she really was. However, Lucy can be very arrogant towards people she doesn’t like or doesn’t know. She would never openly smile to just anyone, nor would she talk to anyone aside from Chan and her close friends. 

Unlike Lucy, this girl was nothing like Lucy and Chan could see the vast difference.

Lucy would never work at a café shop because to her, these kinds of jobs are for people who are not able to support themselves financially. This girl not only works as a barista at a café, her sense of fashion is definitely more laid back compared to Lucy.

She wore a plain white shirt with denim skinny jeans and a pair of Nikes with her café apron on. She had her hair in a low messy bun to keep her hair from falling into customer’s drinks while making them. Character wise, she was a lot more friendlier than Lucy. She had quite a bubbly side to her when she greeted new customers at the cashier.

Chan was just too absorbed in his thoughts that he didn’t even hear her calling out to Changbin. The latter went back to the collection point, not forgetting to get a glimpse of her name on her nametag.

“Thanks… (Y/N).” Changbin smiled, making her return the favour with a small nod.

Chan knew he shouldn’t do it but he wanted to. He wanted to get to know her a little better. Which is why he decided to come visit her again the following week. She was currently leaning against the counter top, facing the café entrance while her co-worker and close friend, Moonbin was fooling around with her since the café was sort of empty with only 6 tables max being occupied.

She had just punched his abdomen softly when he threw a balled tissue onto the top of her head.

Just then, the sound of doorbell chiming caught their attention. She turned towards the door, only to see Chan enter the café. She immediately smiled after remembering his face from last weekend.

Moonbin went to go hide behind the coffee machine, pretending to be busy.

“Hi, welcome to Daisies Café. What can I get for you today?” She greeted Chan with a smile, making him mimic her expression.

“Umm, hey. I think I’ll just have an Iced Berry Mint Tea.” She keyed in his order before asking him if there was anything else he wanted. When he said no, she nodded and proceeded to charge him for it. After she was done, she took the cup and asked him for his name or initial.

“Chan.” She let his name roll off her tongue quietly before smiling at him. She went over to Moonbin only to see the boy grinning like an idiot.

“Why are you smiling at me like that?” She asked her same aged colleague.

“Nothing… He’s kinda your type, no?”

To that, she glanced over to Chan who was seated near the window. He had his laptop on the table with a headphone on his head. A smile graced onto her lips, ignoring Moonbin’s comment and instead, focusing on making Chan’s drink. She knew if she called his name, he wouldn’t be able to hear so she opted to bring his drink over to him instead.

She brought him his drink only for Chan to smile at her, his cute dimples coming to view.

“Oh! Sorry!” 

He apologized before taking the glass from her, feeling her fingers brushing lightly over hers. She got visibly flustered as she pulled her hands back a little too quickly. Chan simply let out a soft chuckle when she excused herself to continue working when he gently gripped her wrist to stop her.

“Hey, umm, are you free later?” He asked.

“I… yeah. Why?”

“Do you… maybe wanna grab dinner with me?” She got quiet for a moment, making him feel bad.

“Uhh, you don’t have to agree! It’s okay.” He reassured her. But there was just something about him that made her smile, a warm feeling blossoming in the pit of her stomach.

“I finish at 5.” She said with a small smile on her face.

“Oh… uhh, great. I’ll come pick you up then.”

“Okay.” She giggled before leaving his table.

7 months was definitely longer than what he had in mind about being friends with her. All the girls that he has dated or contacted ever since Lucy passed wouldn’t last for more than a month. During the last few months, Chan got to know about her background a little better.

Although he does know that (Y/N) can never be Lucy, he slowly started to like (Y/N) for who she is and not just because she looked like Lucy.

In fact, he wouldn’t admit it to anyone, but he actually likes (Y/N)’s personality slightly better.

It was a sunny Saturday evening and she was having a day off. She was just mopping her living room when her phone began to ring. She placed her mop on the bucket only to go to the desk right beside the hallway where her phone was sitting.

It was Chan’s caller ID.

“Hello?” She said.

“Hey! What are you doing?”

“Oh, I was just cleaning my apartment.”

“Do you need an extra hand?” She could hear him chuckle on the other side of the line.

“If you don’t mind getting down and dirty.” She laughed.

“Sure. Then afterwards, I was wondering if you’d wanna meet my friends and hang out with them?” Chan asked softly, making her pause.

For the past few months, (Y/N) had gotten closer to Chan when he kept coming back to the café only to become a regular customer there. However, she has never met Chan’s friends properly simply because she was shy and slightly nervous around a huge crowd.

Chan seemed to read her concerns through the silence. Hence, the reason why he was telling her that she didn’t have to agree to it if she didn’t want to. But she didn’t want to keep rejecting his kind offer of meeting his close friends. She wouldn’t want him to feel bad for asking her so she decided to go with it. About an hour later, Chan came to her place as promised before, only to help her with her spring cleaning.

They joked around with each other a few times, earning soft laughs from them both.

They were just moving their legs back and forth on the ground, dancing along to the music she played in the background when she accidentally slipped. She lost her balance and almost fell backwards but he caught her in time.

Chan wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her back up against him. A soft gasp left her lips as he asked her if she was okay. But all she did was laugh out loud from her clumsiness. 

He smiled down at her, letting her press her forehead against his shoulder.

After her laughter had died down, she pulled away from him when she felt his arms still securely wrapped around her body. She glanced up, tilting her head to meet his. What she wasn’t ready for was the close proximity of their faces. She could feel his warm breath hit her lips. 

Chan’s eyes naturally fell down to her lips, letting it linger there for a second too long. Before anyone could do anything, Chan’s phone rang in his back pocket. He pulled away not forgetting to apologize to her. 

“Hey. Yeah. I’m at (Y/N)’s house. Yeah. Yeah sure, I’ll be there. Bye Minie.”

Chan hung up the call only for (Y/N) to ask who it was. He said it was Seungmin asking if he was coming to Hyunjin’s apartment later to hangout. She gave him a small smile. About 2 hours later, they were both making their way to Hyunjin’s apartment in Chan’s jeep. She changed into a slightly more casual outfit which was just a fitted shirt, a large flannel, denim skinny jeans and a pair of her favourite sneakers.

When they arrived at Hyunjin’s apartment, Chan walked with her beside him the whole time. They were talking about school projects when he stopped in front of the wooden door.

He gave it a few knocks only to turn to her with a slight frown.

“Are you sure you’re okay with this?” He asked again to make sure she was really okay. But when he received a nod and a smile, Chan’s shoulders relaxed for a bit before the door swung open to reveal a tall blonde boy whom she had never met before.

“Hey hyung!” Hyunjin’s eyes then met hers. She noticed the way his mouth hung open slightly as he took in her features.

“Woah.” He whispered under his breath before he quickly shook his head and welcomed them in. She saw the amount of shoes by the doorstep, making her feel slightly anxious and Chan seemed to notice this. Hyunjin had already re-joined his other friends in the living room when she felt Chan’s hand on her back.

“Hey, you okay?” He asked.

“H-Huh? Oh… Yeah, I’m okay. Sorry… I just… I tend to get anxious when there’s too many guys around me. I’m not used to it.” She said in a hushed whisper.

“We can go home if you want?”

“No! No, please. I’d love to meet your friends, I just need… a little time to get used to this.”

With that, Chan smiled as he cupped her face with one hand only to whisper a soft ‘okay’ before leading her into the living room. That’s when she finally met his friends in person properly. All 7 pairs of eyes were now staring at her with bright expressions but she seemed to feel small under their gazes.

Chan giggled when he felt her gently grip his forearm with both hands, making him speak up to his friends.

“Guys. This is (Y/N). (Y/N), these are my friends.” Chan introduced, only for her to smile to them shyly, partially hiding behind Chan’s larger frame. Some of them couldn’t help but chuckle. They found her quite adorable to say the least.

It took her about an hour or two to warm up to them but eventually, she did. This only made Chan even more proud of her. They were all gathered in Hyunjin’s living room, currently watching a Marvel movie. She was seated on the couch in between Chan and Jeongin, with Changbin right beside her feet on the floor.

They were watching the movie, Jisung and Felix occasionally making comments during the show. Minho was starting to drift off to Lalaland at the side. Hyunjin, Jeongin and Changbin were playing a game on their phones and Seungmin was busy reading an online book.

(Y/N) and Chan were watching the movie in silence but he did notice her getting closer to his side every time she shifts or adjusts herself on the couch. Not that he was complaining.

Just then, Jeongin suddenly flinched harshly beside her.

This was enough to make her jump. However, this caused her to accidentally lean against Chan who had his arm around her waist.

She blushed at this sudden contact. Jeongin apologized to her for scaring her but she simply laughed it off and told him it was fine. But the minute she turned back to Chan, she could feel her breath hitch in her throat with how close his face was to her.

Unfortunately, he was close enough to hear it but he didn’t mock her for it. In fact, he actually giggled thinking it was cute. 

“You okay, love?” His soft voice sultry to her ears.

She hummed in response, only to look forward to the tv screen. Chan chuckled beside her but she ignored it, knowing he probably saw the pink tint on her cheeks. A few hours later, they finally called it a night where Chan sent her back home.

Once they were outside her apartment door, she turned to him to speak up.

“Thanks Chan, for bringing me to meet your friends. They’re really genuine people.”

“No worries. I knew you’d love them.” He chuckled. Suddenly, the air became hot as she struggled to find the right words.

“Chan…”

“Yeah?”

The room fell silent for a moment as they both just stared at each other. Trying to decipher what the other would do next. But she was one step faster than him when the next thing she did was literally what he planned on doing. In one swift movement, she leaned forward to press a chaste kiss to his soft full lips. Chan stood there completely bewildered, unable to take in the fact that that really just happened.

She wasn’t sure how long he would stay like that so she took this chance to hide from him. Wanting to avoid any awkward situations if he doesn’t feel the same way for her. Right when she was about to say goodbye to him and enter her apartment, Chan quickly caught her wrist. She turned around to him with a slightly baffled look. But Chan was cheeky. He used his other hand to pull her closer by her waist only to press his lips on hers again. 

This time, letting his lips stay there slightly longer than before.

She melted into the kiss as soon as he kissed her, making him smile against her lips. She slid her hand up his chest, tangling her fingers in his soft brown locks.

Chan guides her gently back until she is pressed against the door, hugging her waist securely in his arms. She pulled away for air, feeling him press his forehead against hers softly. A few seconds later, Chan whispered softly just loud enough for her to hear.

“I’m really happy to have met you.”

She could feel the butterflies erupting in her stomach at his words. She smiled as he continued.

“I thought my life was over after losing who I thought would be with me forever. But I was wrong. And I realised it when I first saw you at the café that day. Thank you for being there (Y/N). I honestly don't know how my life would have turned out if I didn’t meet you that day.” 

With that being said, she smiled. Cupping his face with both hands gently only to speak up.

“I’m glad I could be the source of happiness for you, Chan.”

Chan kissed her again sweetly before pulling back to say the 3 words he had been wanting to say to her. Only for her to return the favour.

“I love you, (Y/N).”

“I love you too Chan.”

[ichorai]

cellmates ; four ; j.wy

pairing ; jung wooyoung x reader

summary ; stuck in jail after stealing a necklace off the princess, what happens when your new cellmate with an impossible escape plan comes along?

words ; 5.2k

warnings / includes ; medieval fantasy au, blood and grime and death and everything in between, some curse words, future ateez cameos, future suggestive / mature content, cellmates to (future) lovers !!

a/n ; surprise !! here you go stop crying >:( kdjffj jk i hope yall enjoy !!! the plot thickens up quite a bit in this one 👀 ,,, there are also a couple surprises sprinkled here and there :DD to make up for what i did to yall last chapter lol

cellmates masterlist.

As a child, a popular tale you often heard was one depicting a man stranded on an island, throat dry with thirst and stomach void of nourishment. He passed out in exhaustion by the beach, just on the brink of death. But before his soul could fade away, the mermaids took pity on the man of skin-and-bones and brought him underwater, breathing life back into his lungs. He contentedly lived the rest of his life as a merperson.

Although stories like those always had happy endings, they could never really make you smile, unlike how all the other children reacted. What about the people the man cared about when he was on land? Had he just completely forgotten about them to selfishly live an easier life underwater?

The same thoughts ran through your pounding head repeatedly as you dully stared out into the gleaming ocean. From where you were, bound tightly against the main mast, you had a clear view of both the ship’s deck and the waters. You couldn’t really remember how long you’d been tied up… if you could recall correctly, they had only thrown Wooyoung overboard just last night. That felt like an eternity ago. 

All thoughts of mermaids and fairy tales and Wooyoung dissipated from your mind once a pirate stepped into your view. In the daylight, they were far less scary than when you had first encountered them. The pirate had bronzed skin verging on being sunburnt, and sharp eyes of molten gold. A red bandana held his hair out of his leering face, and you noticed a dark branding burn of a sword ran through a skull embedded on his chest, partially covered by his loose tunic.

The man tutted, grabbing your chin between two fingers. It was then that you realized just how tired you were; you hadn’t gotten any sleep, instead spending the night struggling against your bonds and crying after Wooyoung.

“Let me go.” Your voice was so hoarse that it didn’t sound like yours anymore.

The pirate merely grinned and shook his head.

You wracked your brain for a second before spitting out, “Isn’t it bad luck to have a woman onboard? Your ship will sink if you keep me here.”

“Why, you must have nothing but worms between your ears,” He cackled in a sinister manner. “That’s just a silly little myth, sweetheart. Women are more than welcome here.” With those words, he ran his eyes over your tense form. A predator surveying its prey.

Much to your relief, the pirate stepped down. That feeling didn’t last very long, however. Just as he slid back, more pirates filtered into your view, clearly just having woken up to start the day. There were so many eyes on you; some curious, some disinterested, and some boldly staring with unsavory expressions.

“I say we make her do the dirty work,” One with golden teeth chimed. “Scrub the decks, clean the chamber pots.”

“We should toss her overboard. We don’t need another mouth to feed.”

“Keep her tied up there! A pretty thing like her should be on display for everyone to see!”

“We can drop her off at the next port and sell her off as a slave. We could use the extra gold.”

“Awh, don’t you think we should keep her? Ain’t half bad to look at.”

Those were only just a few snippets you could make out in the midst of the tumultuous roaring of the pirates as they yelled their suggestions over each other. They grew progressively louder as more ideas came into mind on what they should do with you. Panic brewed within you, but your limbs were tired and your mind was numb. All you could do was stand and watch.

The pirates immediately quietened once a one-eyed man with a peg leg hobbled out of the navigation room. The soft clunk, clunk, clunk of the wooden leg against the planks was not unsimilar to the rapid thundering of your heartbeat.

This is the captain, you thought. It was obvious, what with the way the pirates shut their mouths tightly and bowed their heads down to their chests. Some even trembled on the spot. If Wooyoung were here, he’d laugh at them.

Oh, how you missed him. 

The captain had a voice of pure silk, a stark contrast to his ragged appearance. In a quietly powerful tone, he stated firmly, “We leave her here until we reach Aurecia. Then we sell her off.” After a tense pause, he sternly added on, “Nobody touches her until then. Aurecians pay well for unspoilt women, so if any of you lot come remotely close to her, I’ll have your heads.”

The diminutive consolation you received from the captain’s commands ebbed away slightly when you thought more about what he was saying. They were going to sell you off as a slave in Aurecia. And if you could recall the map correctly, Aurecia was the opposite direction of Virelis, where you were supposed to be going. To top it all off, Cerulea and Aurecia were trusted allies, and that could mean nothing good for you.

“No!” You suddenly interjected in a croaky voice, throat so dry it felt like you had sandpaper in your mouth. “Please, don’t take me there. I need to go to Virelis. Please, you can sell me there!”

Everybody stared at you in complete befuddlement. The captain gaped at you with one narrowed eye and spat out, “Virelis doesn’t take slaves. Don’t play games with me, girl.”

Out of desperation, pleading words frantically poured out of your mouth before you could stop and hesitate, “Then don’t sell me! I’m useful, I swear!”

“Forgive me if I have difficulty believing you,” The captain said in a bored tone, gesturing to your bleeding, tied up form. 

A frustrated huff escaped you as you hissed out, “I’m Y/N L/N! I was the one that stole the princess’ necklace! I’m a valuable asset and you’d be lucky to have me on your crew.”

A stunned silence washed over the pirates. Then, one by one, they started laughing. They snorted and chuckled and slapped their knees as if you had told them the funniest joke in the world. You half-heartedly attempted speaking again, but your voice was drowned out by their howling laughter.

“SHUT THE FUCK UP BEFORE I FEED YOUR SORRY ASSES TO THE SHARKS!” The captain bellowed, his velvety tone long gone. He had his arms crossed tightly over his chest, a scowl pulling at his lips. 

The lot of them snapped their mouths shut so quickly you could hear their teeth clacking against one other. 

“Y/N L/N is nothing but a legend,” The captain stepped closer to you, his one eye narrowed in suspicion. “I don’t know, nor do I care for why you’re lying, but it better not become a problem. I’ve already got one crew to deal with. I don’t need to add a raving lunatic onto the list.”

“Please!” You wiggled against your bonds slightly, wincing at how the coarse rope fibers scratched at your chafed skin. “Why would I lie?! You’ve got to believe me, I’m Y/N L/N, I’ve been in jail for a long time and I’ve only recently escaped with the man you tossed overboard. Please, we can go bring him back, he can tell you, I - !” 

The words lodged in your throat. It was pointless, trying to convince a haggle of savage pirates to go back for someone they tossed to the sharks. There was a sort of heavy pain deep down in your chest, and you brokenly blew out a sigh. The feeling churned at your insides uncomfortably. It might’ve been the sea sickness, but you knew it was a nasty combination of guilt and panic and regret.

The captain noticed your abrupt change in demeanor, but decided not to comment. Instead, he said stoically, “Y/N L/N is a wonderful character in a legend told to scare children and I would absolutely love to meet her. But unfortunately, I don’t think I’d ever get the pleasure to. She’s not real.” You stared into his one eye, tears welling up in your own. “And about the man we tossed over… he put up a real fight and he wasn’t worth the trouble. He’s probably long gone by now. It’d do you good to forget about him.”

Pirates behind the pair of you started snickering, but were quietened when the captain straightened and just about snarled out, “DON’T YOU HAVE WORK TO DO? GET ON WITH IT, YOU STINKY BASTARDS!” 

They scrambled in a panicked fashion, a few of them running into each other as they dashed in opposite directions, others clumsily slipping on the damp plank wood, and some merely ran like headless chickens with no definite direction in mind. 

“They’ll treat you well in Aurecia, girl,” The captain slipped back into his velvety tone once more. You supposed this was his way of apologizing… or, the closest thing to an apology you’d ever get from a pirate. “Just try to accept it and it won’t seem as bad. This lot here won’t hurt you in the meantime. I’ll make sure of that.” He gestured to the rest of the men who were settling back into their daily routines. You were surprised to see that they were already hard at work; manning the sails, scrubbing the decks, navigating the ship, so on so forth. The life of a pirate definitely wasn't an easy one. 

You said nothing in return, staring blankly at the glinting ocean. The hollow clunk, clunk, clunk of his peg leg fading away was a sure sign that the captain was gone. You couldn’t bring it in yourself to watch him go.

This was most probably the worst possible time to cry. At this point, you were surprised your sore eyes could still manage to produce tears, considering how dehydrated you were. It was obvious that some of the pirates were still watching you, pausing mid-job. You tried to ignore them and hung your head sullenly as dry sobs rumbled in your chest.

You were stuck floating in a gigantic cesspool of saltwater, and yet your body had the audacity to produce even more. It was this very water you were bobbing on that most probably filled Wooyoung’s lungs as he gave up his last breath. The thought did nothing but make you weep harder. 

Pirates really had no designated time to have luncheon and supper, but their stomachs all seemed to revolve around roughly the same hours. By the time the golden of the sun was grazing against the deep green waters and the sky was bleeding a strange shade of amaranthine, they were all shouting out complaints of hunger and trotting to the small kitchens below deck to have supper. 

You were hungry, but also sure that if you had even a morsel of bread, you would heave it right back out. The day was spent with you gazing at the rocking waters, bustling pirates, and the large, tattered flag that hung proudly way above you. On occasion, you tried pleading to the pirates who were passing by, but none of them so much as glanced towards you. It seemed as though they took their captain’s orders to heart. 

And so, after hours and hours of being neglected, imagine your surprise when one particular pirate sheepishly walked up to you, a little after all the others had disappeared below the deck to eat.

At first, you hadn’t noticed the quiet man because you had your stinging eyes shut, trying to block off the last and harshest glares of the sun as it sank under the edge of the world.

He cleared his throat once, and your eyes flew back open, startled.

“You must be starving,” He said. 

The first thing you noticed about him was the strangely soft shade of pink his hair was. It wasn’t unsimilar to the color of Yunho’s hair, and you found yourself wondering how the kind giant of a man would react knowing that you lost Wooyoung. 

“Oh,” He gestured to the brightly-hued strands on his forehead. “I’m half fairy. Everybody looks at me funny when they first see my hair.”

Snapping out of your thoughts, you observed the man in front of you suspiciously. You had little to say in reply to the strangely personal fact he told you, and so you bit down on your tongue and let silence further consume you.

He had an angular face and complementing sharp features, but he bore a timid expression in an unexpectedly stark contrast. What was this fairy-man doing on a pirate ship? He didn’t look at all like the rest of the crew. The others were sunburnt and filthy and rugged. He, however, was somewhat well kempt, skin void of burns and scars and dirt. A loose cream-hued tunic was hung over broad shoulders, barely slung over his hardened chest, a leather belt tightened around the small of his waist and tucked into black trousers. It was quite a dignifying outfit in comparison to the rest of the crew clad in dirty rags and stolen clothes that didn’t match in the slightest. But for that, you could understand. Seeing the pirates randomly throw on haphazard articles of clothing, you thought back to when you were on the run with Wooyoung, stealing clothes off of drying lines and changing into whatever would fit.

The only thing that pushed the strange pink-haired man more towards the ‘rugged pirate’ side was a silver lip ring glinting with the late sunlight from the side of his bottom lip. In his eyes you saw gentle kindness, but you knew better than to trust him just yet. 

“Are you hungry? I can sneak something up for you while everyone’s busy stuffing their face full.” He had a voice of honey and silk, tempting you to accept his generous offer. But you kept your mouth shut.

“I understand,” A sad, empathetic look crossed his face. “Sea sickness is the worst the first couple of days. From there, it’ll gradually get better once you get used to it. But please, drink some water.”

From out of nowhere, he brandished a pretty silver chalice and held it up to you, the metal stingingly cool against your lips. You would’ve been stupid to turn down the water, so you leaned forward slightly and slurped at the drink so quickly that some sloshed down your chin and dripped onto your chest. 

“I can get you some more later,” He said, pulling the cup away as you gasped for air. “But I have to tell you something important first. My name is San, by the way.”

He had a name that roughly translated to ‘mountain’ in Old Cerulean. You thought it was a rather pretty name… fitting for such a pretty man.

“I just wanted to say this while no one was around,” San sucked in a deep breath, steeling his quaking nerves. “I believe you.”

The water had certainly drowned away the scratchy burn in your throat, so you were free to painlessly stutter out, “W-What?”

“I believe you,” He repeated. “It’s like you said… why would you lie?”

“You believe that I’m Y/N?” Your voice raised an octave or two higher, to which San shot you a warning look and glanced behind him as a precaution. If anybody heard or saw either of you, the captain would have his head. “Why?”

Hope was a dangerous thing. It muddled your brain and clouded your consciousness, blurring the lines between reality and fantasy. So you looked upon the pink-haired pirate dubiously, furrowing your eyebrows.

“I might be the most gullible man out there,” San snorted, raising a hand to rub against the back of his neck. “You kinda fit the description in all the stories and legends. And you don’t look like you’re lying… I don’t know… it must be the fairy blood in me. My mother always knew when I was lying or telling the truth. She used to tell me that good people only truly lie when they want to protect others. But… you don’t have anybody here to protect. Not anymore, anyways.” There was a guilty, remorseful sort of look that flooded his face. 

You were so relieved that you could’ve burst into tears right then and there. 

“And… that man the others threw overboard… he kept saying your name. You might’ve had reason to lie to us, but he didn’t. Especially not then.” San spoke gently in a low tone, as if he were speaking to a frightened child. Something painful twisted in your stomach at his words. “So… yes, Y/N, I believe you.”

Then he leaned forward and quickly swiped his cool thumb over your damp cheek. You only then realized that you were crying again, flinching away from his touch at first, before relaxing your tensed muscles. 

“Thank you,” was the only thing you could properly croak out. There were so many things you wanted to tell him. Help me. Let me out. Bring Wooyoung back. Take me away from here. Why are you helping me? What are you doing here?

Although none of your erratic thoughts were heard, you sagged in relief when he said, “I’ll try to talk to the captain about making a stop in Virelis.” As a tentative afterthought, he added, “I’m sorry about your friend.”

“I loved him,” You croaked out, surprising even yourself. “I didn’t know that I did.”

San flashed you a sad smile, “Some people never realize. You’re lucky that you did.” Then, he murmured after gesturing to your bloody hands and wrists, “I’m also sorry about them hurting you. I have a special coconut extract lotion that treats wounds and burns very well. I’ll try to sneak up something for you to eat, as well. We’ll have to wait until it’s completely dark, though.”

You had so much to tell him, so much to ask, so much to thank him for. The fairy-man rotated on the stub of his heel to walk away, and you whispered out, “San!” He glanced back at you with a curious expression, and you nodded your head, sincerely grateful, “Thank you.” The questions could wait, you supposed.

A smile so wide spread across his lips that his eyes almost disappeared. Around savage pirates practically all his life, he rarely ever heard those two strangely comforting words. He dipped his head politely and walked away, leaving you to your own overwhelming thoughts.

Sleep had taken you under its dark wing a little while after San left, however fitful and sporadic. Your head pounded as your swollen and aching eyes fluttered open, somewhat surprised to see that it was still dark. Where was San?

Then, as your consciousness shook away the foggy webs of sleep, your brain registered a faint singing voice. However, it wasn’t just any rotten pirates’ singing voice; it sounded as if a woman was wailing, but in the most beautiful way possible. The trembling vocal chords pierced through the night sky, high-pitched and ringing in your ears melodically. It was a song in a language you couldn’t understand, but the warbled words molded together sounded pure and whole, just about placing you under a trance. But of course, you were still quite dazed and confused from slumber, unable to clearly hear the singing voices. On top of that, the water seemed to be extra loud, splashes and waves thundering against the boat almost every five seconds.

Tired, you rolled your stiff neck. Strangely, you noticed that the deck in front of you was void of any pirates. Glancing to the side, there was not a single soul to be seen manning the navigational wheel. Your neck ached as you craned it to look upwards, squinting at the crows’ nest, just to see that it was equally empty. Where are they? you thought absent-mindedly.

The singing was getting louder, and you had to physically shake your head to get your mind out of the gutters. The ropes strained against the skin of your raw wrists even more when you shifted to look behind you.

The sight that you were met with had you reeling against the mast in panic. 

Sirens. Dozens of them, sitting on moldy rocky ledges jutting out of the ocean waters. They were beautiful creatures, smooth skins tainted a faint green and shimmery silver hair just long enough to drape wetly over their breasts. They bore seductive expressions and parted their full lips to croon out the mesmerizing song in unison.

And the splashing against the boat? With a choked gasp of horror, the undisputed mystery of where all the pirates had gone was answered. One by one, they were marching off the planks, plummeting into the salty ocean waters, swimming as if their life depended on it, closer and closer to the beckoning sirens. They all held entranced expressions, some with gaping mouths and others with fully blown pupils of adoration and lust.

The sirens were far enough where you weren’t fully under influence, but much too close to be clear of mind. You had to count yourself lucky for being female; it was known that sirens had stronger effects on men. But you didn’t have much time to spare.

You suddenly became short of breath in panic. Where was San? Had he already jumped off? Blowing out a shuddering sigh, your neck trembled with great effort as you angled yourself to look back again. It was easy to spot his brightly-colored mane, the pink starkly bright in the moonlight.

“SAN!” You screamed to the best of your abilities, voice scratchy from your previous slumber. For a second, the fairy-man seemed to twitch slightly into your direction. A particularly high-pitched note echoed across the waters, just about slicing through any hesitation San might’ve held. Just like that, he turned completely away from you with a stupefied look, before hopping off the ship and plunging into the ocean.

A scream of protest ripped through your throat. There was no time to think… you could already feel their lulling voices numb the corners of your mind…

No. No, I have to get out of this. 

With a quick glance back, a flare of hope ignited somewhere within your chest when you spotted a dagger just behind you, buried in the fraying wood of a grog barrel. Its handle was jutting out in your direction, the crooked blade void of rust and gleaming with reflected moonlight. Excruciating pain shot through your right arm as you twisted your wrist about, desperate to be freed of the knot. The hardest part was getting your hand through the tight loophole, groaning at the throbbing sensation.

After frantically yanking yourself upwards, you managed to wrench your right wrist free, covered with blood and scratches and blisters. Then, with no time to spare, you reached as far as you could behind you, towards the barrel. Your bones ached and cracked under the strain, but you pushed through with gritted teeth. Tears ran down your twisted features from the pain. With a final shriek, you lunged and wrapped your blood-slicken fingers around the hilt. The sick sound of your left shoulder popping had you screaming in pained misery, but there was no time to lament. You’d fix it up later.

It took little effort to extract the blade out of the rotting wood. You prayed not to drop the dagger as your hand trembled ruthlessly. Swallowing dryly, you raised the blade to your left wrist, and began hacking away at the ropes.

They were tough, coarse things, but gave way eventually, unraveling with each strand. You didn’t even have to cut through the whole thing until it was weak enough to break on its own. 

You were free. 

The sirens’ song grew louder and louder, and frantically, you wobbled away from the mast and to the side of the ship, steadying your shaking legs against the rail. Every fibre of your being screamed at you to stop and jump into the water, swim to the beautiful melody that came from just over there…

“No!” You managed to moan out. Your left arm was completely useless; you weren’t able to move the limb at all. The tearing of your shirt as you somehow managed to rip off the sleeve rang in your muddled head alongside the foreign words quavering through the air. You used the dagger to slice the cloth in half, and shoved each piece into your ears. It was disgusting and uncomfortable, but it would have to suffice. The sirens’ voices sounded little other than muffled hums, and though you had to stay cautious, you could already feel your mind clear tremendously.

The last of the pirates had just clambered off the side. You would’ve heard the large splash he made as he cannon-balled into the waters if it weren’t for your make-shift ear plugs.

You were tired. You were thirsty, aching, sleepy, and just about every other bad feeling one could possibly have. Unfortunately, the ship was still heading right towards the sirens, no doubt turned off-course by a crewmate heavily under their influence.

And so, you dragged your heavy limbs over to the navigational wheel, letting out a soft tormented wince when the small act of curling your quaking fingers around the wooden spokes were enough to send what felt like great electric shocks of pain up your spine. Then, you spun the wheel one-handed, over and over and over again until the massive beauty of a ship leaned away from the sirens (who were clearly enraged, hissing and baring their sharp teeth), silkily gliding over the waters. Warm ocean air billowed into your face and tousled your hair, and for the first time since you’ve gotten onto the ship, you didn’t feel like throwing up. 

A part of you felt bad for leaving San, the only pirate to show you even just a morsel of empathy. Who knows, maybe he’d survive. He was half fairy, after all. You muttered out a soft soft wish of good luck for the pink-haired man, though you doubted that would do much.

Your mind was quick to leap from the fate of San to a man who’s been in your life for much longer. Where would you be if it weren’t for him?

Wooyoung wasn’t one to just… give up like that. He couldn’t be dead. Perhaps you were being a fool for holding onto hope, but you would gladly welcome that title if there was even the slightest chance that he was still out there, alive and breathing.

And so, you steeled your nerves by drawing in a grand breath. Your lips settled in a firm, determined line.

You were going to go find Wooyoung.

Where were you to start?

Dozens and dozens of maps and scrolls were tossed about as you pillaged through the papers, in search of a chart that would actually be of use to you. Much to your dismay, there weren’t any maps whatsoever that held the directions to Virelis. There goes that plan down the drain. Where else was there to go?

The sling that held up your left arm was procured hastily from the medbay after you popped your dislocated shoulder back into its socket with a quailing shriek. The pain had faded into a dull ache, but at least now you could wiggle your fingers. That was a good sign, you supposed. Your stomach was full with what you could find in their kitchen pantries (which was mostly just stale biscuits and half-cooked fish), and to be honest, you felt better than you have in a long, long time, despite the circumstances.

There was still the problem of finding him, though. If you could recall correctly, you were only around a days’ sail away from where they had kicked Wooyoung off.

But that would mean turning back to Cerulea. And that… definitely didn’t sound smart. You rubbed your fingers against your throbbing temple, taking a long swig of refreshing water from a pitcher. Gentle light was filtering in through the small circular window, illuminating the yellowed maps in such a way to make them look golden. There was no time to appreciate the simple beauty of this, however, because a stupid, moronishly foolish, plan was forming in your head.

What if you went back to Cerulea? Would Wooyoung be waiting for you there? Maybe he was staying with Yunho while he got back on his feet. After all, it’s not like he could swim all the way to Virelis, especially with how injured he was. Cerulea was a much closer, safer plan. It was the only place he could go, right?

Unease twisted your stomach at the thought of going back to the country that locked you in a dark dungeon for moons upon moons upon moons. Deep down inside, you knew that no part of Wooyoung would ever willingly go back to Cerulea. Not after all he went through trying to get out. But what else were you to do? And even if he weren’t there, at least you’d be able to inform Yunho on what happened. Then the sweet giant of a man could help you find him.

You stood up, compasses and maps slipping off your lap, respectively clanging and fluttering towards the ground noisily. With large, determined strides, you exited the navigational room and to the main deck, where the steering wheel was situated. Warm, salty breeze whispered against your ears, calm and encouraging.

“I’ll find you, Wooyoung,” Your words were swiftly stolen by the wind. You hoped that gale would be kind enough to carry the message over to him, however impossible it was.

Halfway across the world, laid an unconscious dark-haired man, clad in nothing save for his smallclothes and bandages tightly wrapped around his skull. He was situated stiffly atop a narrow bed, scars and bruises still quite fresh and clearly visible against his paler-than-usual skin.

Wooyoung awoke with a startled choke of a gasp, sore eyes flying wide open. There was a searing pain in his abdomen as he sat up, wheezing and hissing in agony. He took in his surroundings with a panicked demeanor, gaze landing on the mildly surprised fair-headed figure with striking green eyes standing by the doorway, fresh bandages in his palms. He’s an elf, Wooyoung realized after a long moment of gaping, noticing the ever-so-slightly pointed ears poking out beneath silvery locks and the infamous nature-woven clothes only elves wore.

“Took you long enough,” He said in a thick Elvish accent, followed by a beguiling snort. “I thought you would stay asleep forever. I’m Yeosang.”

Wooyoung blinked sluggishly once, twice, and a third and fourth time for good measure. He knew very well that he should probably answer. After all, elves were widely known to be an easily offended kind. But for the love of everything he held dear, he just couldn’t seem to crack his lips open. 

The two stared at each other awkwardly for a second more. Then promptly, his eyes rolled into the back of his skull as his upper half crumpled onto the bed, instantaneously returning into the sweet relief of unconsciousness.

[ace-of-pythons]

Proceedings of the Men Of Letters on Angels

The following text will examine the Biology, Culture, and Psychology of Angels. These creatures have not been observed since 1901 [See Recorded Angelic Sightings by Matt Powell, pg. 893] and remain mysterious. Many would suggest that Angels are presented well in religion and are covered in their entirety. On the contrary, many paintings from the 1700's and journals from the 1800's depict another side of Angels that show many contradictions. This text is meant to be a compilation of many of the different literary records of the Men of Letters American [A31d], British [B85g], Mongolian [M59u], and Egyptian [E93k] chapters.

Compiled and written by Sebastian Outlander of the Men of Letters British Chapter

1963

Biology & Physiology

Angels are beings that inhabit the waves of light in multiple parallel spaces, or dimensions. The theoretical reason that they are able to exist between spaces, is that they travel at too high a speed for humans or our technology to detect. It is assumed that the energy Angel's are made of is faster than light. Using this speed, a massive amount of Kinetic energy is formed and is possibly how Angels get their power. The light that makes up their incorporeal forms is often referred to as "Grace". [The Journal of William Greyson, The Murder of Grace (painting by Brianna Colt)] The collection of an Angel's Grace is know as a "True Form" as seen in both numerous journals and the Bible. [See Biblical Accurate Angels, sketches by Juliet Robinson] Angel True Forms are too bright for any one person to lay their eyes upon. There have been several accounts of people being found dead with their eyes burned out of their skull. Whether Angels were the cause of these deaths or not is still up to debate.

Angels can not show their true forms to the creatures of Earth but many take a mortal vessel to communicate. These vessels are usually devout followers of the Lord and will follow an Angel's word. Angels need to have the vessel's permission to enter, unlike demons who can possess a person unwillingly. [The Vessel (1875, Mia Partens)]. These vessels may or may not be able to contain the Angel's full power, and in that case, their body will start to disintegrate and their mind will be null and void. This is, in fact, more desirable than meeting an Angel out of their vessel. An Angel's true voice alone is able to shatter glass, make ear drums bleed, and shake the earth. Seeing an Angel's true form is securing a sure destruction, as the image can burn a victim's eyes, and even brain, out of their skull.

Angels are known to be more like soldiers than expected. The Men of Letters Egyptian [E93k] chapter recovered a silver blade with markings of an ancient language. Upon further investigation, it was discovered to be Enochian, the language of the Angels [See Angelic Culture and Rankings] . The blade of the Angel is safely stored in the Egyptian [E93k] chapter house [Building 4, Row 28, 13b]. Other weapons have been recovered from dig sites across the globe. A long sword believed to be used by a subset of Angels [details unknown, American chapter, Main bunker, Room 24, 58c], a curved spiral blade believed to be used for ceremonial reasons [British chapter, Chapter house, A37b], and a peculiar spear also carved with Enochian [Stolen from the American chapter house in 1958]. Angels are believed to be fierce fighters, and precise in their attacks. According to the Daily Musings of a Wanderer, [Mary Wanderer, 1253] a female Angel was able to throw a silver blade around 50 feet and hit the direct center of her target. It is unknown if this Angel was trained for ranged weapons or if she had the same skill as the rest of the Host. [The Heavenly Host, all Angels known in heaven]

One of the oldest books that has been acquired by the Men of Letters is an untitled journal from both an unknown author and unknown date, although our scientists believe that it dates back to before Christ. This book contains information on Angel wings and culture and was discovered somewhere in Africa by townsfolk. A few of the illustrations have been recreated for this index, so in event of disaster, the information in the book will not be lost.

Angel wings are mostly held in the Ether and are rarely brought into our plane. Although they are rarely brought here doesn't mean they can not be. It is unsure how an Angel does this, but a common theory is that they either use an Enochian spell or that they are intrinsically able to control what plane their wings are on. An Angel is extremely vulnerable while their wings are out, so it is understandable that it is a rare occurrence.

The diagrams that have been found [The unknown book, A Complete Study of Angels (1901, Lily Sunder)] are almost exact to the structure of bird wings. It can be assumed that God created birds to mimic his first creation. The diagram shows that Angel wings have primary feathers and secondary feathers, primary coverts and secondary coverts, marginal coverts, and an alula on each wing. While each of the individual parts of the wing are depicted on the diagram, each section will be described in detail.

The largest feathers at the tips of the wings are grouped as the primary feathers, which help the Angel gain thrust. The long feathers on the rest of the wing are called the secondaries, which help the Angel gain lift. The next layer of feathers up is called the covert. The primary coverts cover the primary feathers and the secondary coverts cover the secondary feathers. The top most layer is called the marginal coverts. All sections of coverts are meant to stream-line the wing as to reduce the amount of drag. The alula is the thumb-like feather that is used during flight to lessen the speed of sharp angles and dives.

According to the text, Angels have created a culture around their wings, [See Angelic Culture section of text] as many have different shapes, sizes, and even colors. Not all Angels have white wings like many paintings portray them as. Each color represents a different personality trait, some being more common than others. The book goes into detail on what each color means. It is unsure if this is accurate or not. Below is the paraphrased section on wing colors from the text.

"White represents Heaven and purity, shades of purple represent logic and the ability to use it well, red represents anger and a tendency to lash out, yellow represents bravery and fearlessness, the lightest blue represents intelligence and one's ability to use it in battle, and silver represents loyalty. All of these colors are the most common among Angels.

Indigo represents an Angel's resourcefulness, orange represents an Angel with a cunning nature, dark green represents stealth, jade represents an Angel's stubborn nature, and cyan represents high prowess. These colors are uncommon wing colors in Heaven.

Dark brown represents Earth, rose represents ruthlessness, coral represents power and pride, tan represents compassion, and the darkest blue represents curiosity. These colors are rare and not seen often in Heaven.

Gold, grey, and black are rare enough that only a handful of Angels are known to have them. Gold may represents a flair for the dramatics in such a way that an Angel would go above and beyond to impress. The only Angel known with this coloration is the Archangel Gabriel. Grey is believed to be independence and doubt, as it is noted that before an Angel fell, grey feathers were seen mixed in with their normal colors. Black is the most unknown color. According to the unknown book, Angels have differing opinions on what it means or what causes it. Black could represent an Angel who has been to the deepest pits of hell, or could be what a Fallen Angel's wings would be. Rebellion was also noted frequently."

Angels can display multiple colors at once, or can change their colors during their next molt. Each Angel has a slightly different molt period. It is said that "An Angel will shed their grace of physical form every millennium and begin anew with colors unable to be perceived by the humble human mind." [Life of Light (1534, Leo Morris)] The estimate of one-thousand years between molts may be 100 or more years off, depending on the individual, the state of an Angel, or the inevitable change of an Angel's colors.

Angelic Culture and Rankings

Angels have been a prominent piece of religion for centuries, and many different types and ranks have been presented. Some put the Powers as the highest rank, others have Principalities, while some have Archangels. [Rings of Heaven (1904, Anthony Stine), Angelic Omens (1800, A.Z. Fell), The First (1734, Eve Heartt)]. When averaging all media in the Men of Letter's possession, we can create an accurate ranking system.

Archangels are the highest ranking Angels and the first to be created. There are four documented Archangels. Gabriel, Raphael, Michael, and Lucifer, who was cast out of heaven. The next rank is Seraphs or the Seraphim. They are the commanders and leaders of Heaven's army. There are different sub-categories within the Seraphim, similar to those who lead battles and those who order the battles to be fought. Then comes the common ranking of "Angel". They are the soldiers, the writers, and the guards. They are meant to fill any role given to them. The lowest ranking Angels are the Cherubs, as they are the ones meant to deal with humans and human relations.

Within these ranks many Angels will create some form of sibling bonds during molt. Molting is believed to be quite painful and difficult to deal with, so Angels will help each other. The painting labeled "The Bond" [1634, Paul Theos] depicted two Angels sitting while one is combing through the other's feathers. Outside of molting, it is believed that the partners will fight together and spend much time in each other's company. From a first-hand account of an Angel [Host, (1102, Akobel)], it is known that Angels see each other as siblings. Molting partners seem to have a closer sibling bond with each other then with the rest of the Host.

Due to Lily Sunder's book [A Complete Study of Angels (1901, Lily Sunder)], we now know more about the way Angel's age and train, although it is much different then how humans grow. Because Angels are created from God Himself, they are incapable of being infants or children. The youngest Angels are referred to as "fledglings" when they are first created. Fledglings are not children but are still inexperienced in relation to their older companions. Any fledglings that were created were positioned with an older sibling, to help train, teach, and care for them. The reason that these Fledglings had older siblings to begin with is that not all Angel's were created at the same time. There were multiple generations of Angels created. The first Angels were the Archangels, as they are God's oldest and they represent power. The second generation, or first choir, was meant to represent defense. The third generation, or second choir, was meant to represent agility. The fourth and final generation, or the third choir, was meant to represent endurance. Eventually there were no new fledglings created and the ones that did exist grew older. Today, fledglings are essentially an extinct species.

The fledgling's guardian would care for their needs, help with the first molts, and teach them how to fight and follow orders. Fight training would include training in defense, offence with weapons such as spears and swords, battle strategy, and learning about their enemies, such as demons and monsters. Not all fledglings would be warriors and commanders, but all would receive basic training and knowledge. Many of these Angels would become archivists and shepherds. In regards to care, the guardian would show them how to take care of their wings, help them heal any injuries, and teach them how to fly and properly use their powers. Molting would also be taken care of by the guardian until the fledgling could find a molt partner.

Angels are known to have both the first spoken language and the first written language. It is known as Enochian. The Angels have many weapons and tablets carved with this language. It is unknown what these carvings and texts mean, as no one can decipher them. All songs and communication between Angels is conducted in Enochian, although they understand all of the worlds later languages.

Psychology

Not much is known about how an Angel's mind works, or even how much free will they display. Their culture is based upon worship of God and following orders. Loyalty is an important trait in Heaven, and is rewarded. The Archangels are the highest rank, and by that default, they are the ones depicted to have the most autonomy. There is no room for mistakes in Heaven and it has been seen that free will creates disorder in many cases.

Although loyalty is desired and autonomy is frowned upon, there are Angels who dislike the system of Heaven. These Angels are referred to as the "Fallen". Angels who wish to have more free will can flee from the host to Earth in what seems to be two ways. An Angel can flee to Earth and take a human vessel and use the many Angelic wardings to help avoid the Host. The second way is more dangerous and precarious. An Angel can rip their own Grace out to be born as humans with no memory of Heaven. This has not happened often according to the book Host. [1102, Akobel] The Fallen have been associated with black wings and Lucifer although only one of which is remotely true. The few Angels that have fallen have been seen with a few black feathers, but there is no guarantee they are working with or for Lucifer.

There is much more information now then there was back a hundred years and it is much easier to find. Although an Angel may never step foot on this planet again, it is a curious thing to learn about their culture and biology. They are celestial creatures we may never understand completely, but we live in their world. It is my hope that this text can be of use to understand both Angels themselves and spell work that revolves around them.

-Sebastian Outlander

This work is inspired by many wing fics and Flight by northernsparrow.

[emerald-amidst-gold]

OC Interview: Fane Lavellan

Thank you for the tag @dungeons-and-dragon-age! I’ve been eyeing up this meme for a while actually, so this was perfect timing! X3

This takes place Post-Trespasser, about a month or two after, in fact. Solas brought the idea forward, and of course, Fane refused. But after some coaxing, some explanation as to why, and the promise of a whole cake, Fane agreed to humor the request. 

*THERE BE BIG THINGS REGARDING FANE HERE* 

I got carried awaaaaaay! XD

Introduction

Can you introduce yourself?

“I can, but it’s a lengthy list,” He sighs, “...Those who are close to me, who see as but an elf, call me Fane. Those who wish to meet cobble, call me Lavellan or Herald. Those who are blinded by reverence call me ‘He Who Flew Above’. Denizens of the Fade refer to me as, ‘Devotion’ or ‘Tenacity’. However, my true name is..” He sighs again, “...Aterian. I rarely go by it, but the truth won’t be ignored. It never can be.”

What is your gender identity, orientation and relationship status?

“Male. Elvhen. Dragon.” He huffs through his nose, shifting his gaze off to the side, “That’s all I’ll say on that. As for orientation, I’m...emotionally driven. If you asked me to look at another and tell you what’s attractive about them I would say, ‘Nothing.’ I don’t know them, so I feel nothing for them.“ He shrugs, turning his gaze back, but brandishes a glare, “There’s only one person who defies that response, and that’s because he knows me, without and within. More than that, is none of your business.”

Where and when were you born?

He lifts a hand, massaging a temple, “The ‘where’ is simple; Elvhenan. Specifics are lost to me, however, so you’ll have to be content with that response.” He shifts his gaze downwards, slowly crossing his arms, “As to when?” He sighs heavily, “...I have no answer for that other than: I’m roughly the same age, if not older, as Solas. Does it matter, honestly? Numbers fall through the cracks after a specific threshold is crossed.” What is your weapon of choice and fighting style?

He unravels a crossed arm and guides his hand downwards, tapping the pommel of a sword he has fastened to his waist, “Sword. I use either long swords, short swords, or great swords.” He raises an eyebrow as a question is forwarded, “Shields?” He sneers a bit. “I don’t use shields. They get in the way, and anyways,” He raises his hand once more, the expanse steadily beginning to glow blue and silver before a spectral coating of scales cover the entirety, “this is better than any shield. I prefer the front lines, the place I can make sure no one breaches, and the lingering memory of what I once was makes sure I can do just that.” He dispels the scales and shakes out his hand before returning it to his crossed counterpart, “It takes energy to maintain, but I’m getting better at holding it for longer.”  Lastly, are you happy?

He blinks before his entire expression softens, two toned eyes shining with primary gold as they shift downwards, “...If you had asked that of me over twelve years ago I would have spat in your face and said, ‘Happiness doesn’t exist in this world’. But now..” He trails off, casting a sidelong glance towards one of the fortress’s entryways; a familiar voice sounding, firm, but soft, as if reprimanding a child, “...I understand what happiness is, and it’s in every corner if you allow yourself to see it.” His eyes shift back, holding a far away look and voice coming forward in a murmur, “I only wish we all could be happy; together.”

Family and Friends

What’s your family like? What is your relationship with them?

His face holds a conflicted look, as if the memory is painful before speaking, “Complicated,” he says before beginning to tap a finger against his bicep, “I had a mother. She died when I was fifteen from a wasting disease, but she was the picture of serenity. Calm, guiding, measured. Hair like moonlight. Eyes like a clear autumn day. She was--” Unbranded features twist with a look of grief, eyes going dark as his voice drops, “...I’d rather not speak of her. It still hurts to. It hurts to speak of any of them,” His eyes narrow, grief stricken expression turning somewhat bitter, “...Especially those who throw all you did for them back into your face because they refused to listen when you needed them to most. Even so, I still wish for her happiness. Cullen better be treating her right,” That bitter turns outright malicious, dark eyes going darker as another question is meekly asked, “Father? I have no father. I only had a monster that haunted my childhood, tore my token of devotion apart, and then stalked me in my dreams. So, no. I have nothing to say about that concept.”

Have you ever ran away from home?

He chuckles, “Many, many times,” He throws most of his weight into one side, tilting his head back as if thinking, counting, “I can’t even remember the amount of times I fled into the forests, to be honest. All I know is that it happened weekly, maybe even daily,” He brings his head back, snowy hair moving with the action to brush the tops of his cheekbones, “Why do you look so surprised?” he asks, snorting a bit at the meek response of, ‘Why so often?’, “Because I refused to endure being treated like a beast every hour of the day merely because I believed differently, or rather, not at all.” He sighs within the next moment, “...I wasn’t any better than the Dalish, though. I lashed out, I spat in their face, dragged their heritage through the dirt, inflicted harm from the smallest of things...” He squeezes his arms, eyes narrowing into a glare, but seeming to see through everything, “...The past repeats. An infernal spiral that will never slow.” Would you consider marriage or having children?

“Marriage? Children?” He blinks, pale visage suddenly going flush before he snarls, “Why do I need to answer those questions?!” The blush deepens and he responds despite his displeased expression, muttering and biting the inside of his cheek, “...Damned keen eyed elves. They know, don’t they? I swear if Abelas fucking ran that mouth of his, I’ll--” He sighs heavily, letting his head fall limp a bit in defeat, “...Yes. To both. The latter is already taken care of, as everyone situated in the Crossroads knows, but...” Pointed ears are now a deep shade of red, “...marriage is...on hold. War time isn’t an ideal summer wedding.” His voice drops, eyes shimmering as if he was before the person his heart yearned for, “...The sky deserves a venue better than a garden of death and deceit.” Do you secretly hate one of your friends?

“There were those in the Inquisition who I didn’t exactly see eye to eye with,” he started before shaking his head, “but I didn’t hate anyone. Everyone is entitled to their own views and what they find important.” He scowls a bit, tapping his bicep once again with a finger, “...Even if they didn’t extend the same kindness to me in the beginning. ‘Do you believe in the Maker?’ ‘Do you believe you’re chosen?’ ‘You need to use the people’s faith. It gives them hope.’” He mocks before snorting harshly, “No. No, I don’t. Oh, that suddenly makes me trash? Ohhh. How terrible.” He scoffs. “Disgusting.” Which friend knows everything about you?

“Solas,” He says within a heart beat before clearing his throat, shifting his gaze away sheepishly, “He knows me without and within.” Emerald and gold blaze as the orbs go wide, the blush of roses coming back in full force, “Wait, wait, wait! I didn’t mean--! Fuck! You better wipe that shit eating grin off your face, elf, or I swear I’ll do it for you!” He growls in frustation, throwing his hands in the air, “Why did I agree to this? What fucking dragon entertains an interview!? This is worst than the courts in Arlathan used to be! And that’s saying something!”

Asked by Fans

Are you literate? Have you been to school?

”I am literate. Sometimes to a fault, in fact,” He smiles a bit, “Poetry is my niche; a lingering memory of my mother. So, I speak cryptically at times,” He snorts, amused, “Although, I guess that isn’t much of a surprise since the Elvhen language is riddled in verse rather than practical application. Still, even some of the ancients left have a hard time deciphering my words,” He shrugs, smile turning into a smirk, “They never expected a dragon to be able to talk, I guess. Well, ta-dah.”  The eeriest prediction you made that later came true?

A somber expression flits across his visage and eyes, “...That, eventually, I would hurt the one person I never wanted to.” The corner of his mouth twitches, holding both bitterness and grief; a painful duo, “...And retribution came just as swiftly, but it--” He sighs, shaking his head in defeat before muttering under his breath, “Observe and accept. Observe that what came to pass was uncontrollable, and accept that it had to happen for your path to continue, for your soul to be complete.” What is something you were embarrassingly late to realize?

His face blanks, mouth going into a hard line before a sigh exits through his nose slowly, “...That I don’t have tail.” He snarls, blank expression twisting in warning, “Laugh, elf. Do it.” He nods in the next second when no sounds of amusement come forth, expression going stoic once more, “That’s what I thought. You try living centuries in one form and then transitioning. See what happens.” Do you have mental health or physical issues?

He nods, sighing tiredly. “Like my names, I have a lot.” A hand motions to his body lazily, “My entire body is littered in scars, inflicted through crude experiments by an abomination that sought power like so many others,” He expression sours, jaw working back a forth, “They’ve calmed over the years, but the memories are not so kind.” He sighs, trying to calm himself and lifts his left hand; the Anchor glowing faintly and his eyes watch it, “I have an illness, or rather, sensitivity to any Fade born essence. That, too, has calmed and I’m grateful for that. As for my mind..” He trails off, grimacing a bit as if suddenly in pain, “...Visualize the Void, and there’s your answer. Black walls with crimson torches, seats empty, but somehow wanting for memories to take their seats. However, those occupants never come, burnt to ash by fury’s flame. That’s my mind in a nutshell.” What is your current main goal?

He raises his eyebrows, pursing his lips, “Mm, as of right now, I’m busy helping Solas unlock the eluvians that he couldn’t while I was away,” He flexes his marked hand, watching it with a look of determination in his eyes, “That’ll take time, but after, my people, my kin will have their skies back. I won’t let this power be squandered, and I won’t let the key that I’ve been entrusted with fall into the wrong hands.” His face hardens further, “For if that key rusts, the locks break and the sky will blacken as surely as the earth will redden.”

Choices

Drink or food?

“Drinks.” He says with ease, shrugging, “Food is comforting, especially sweets, but a glass of rum or ale, or a cup of chamomile tea really pounds the word ‘relaxation’ into my head.” Cats or dogs?

He smiles, warmth caressing its edges, “You’ve seen Nislean wandering about the halls, laying on the window sills and curling up in front of the fire,” He hums suddenly, crossing his arms again, “Which reminds me, I need to go out of the Crossroads for milk. I’ll be getting more than five bottles this time.” Optimist or pessimist?

“Depends on who you ask,” He shrugs, seeming unbothered, “I’m neither from a personal standpoint. I try to see the bright spots, but shadows can be very persistent.”   Sassy or sarcastic?

He snorts, “Ask Fen’harel,” his voice is light upon the title, playfully mocking in its deepness, “He knows all about that side. Although, he would label it, ‘insufferable’. I would call myself dryly sarcastic, though.”

Have You Ever

Been caught sneaking out?

He purses his lips, “Hmm. Not that I can recall,” he says slowly before his brows jumped and his eyes lit up with memory, “Oh! Wait. There was that one time where I was with Solas and Mythal in a...courtyard, I think?” He shrugs before shrugging, “Doesn’t matter. But, I tried to slip away, tail and all, and I...may have shattered one or two or three eluvians trying to get to the balcony.” He somewhat wistfully, smirking, “Elgar’nan got fucking stuck in a far off settlement for a week, though. Completely worth getting my horn chewed off by a wolf.” Broken a bone?

“Surprisingly, no.” He huffs in amusement, “Wonder of wonders, truthfully.” Received flowers?

“I have,” He scowls, rolling his eyes and shaking his head in disgust, “but I always throw them into the fire. Most are from suitors, those who don’t know what the fuck ‘taken’ means.” Ghosted someone?

His face tightens, completely deadpan, “...No?”, he says, voice raising in question a bit, “At least I don’t believe so. But, then again...oh.” He blanks further, “...Oh. I understand the term now. You mortals are forever twisting the languages, aren’t you? I can’t keep up, but the answer is still no.” Pretended to laugh at a joke you didn’t get?

“Maybe once or twice, but I don’t ‘laugh’ per say.” He huffs through his nose deliberately, “I do that; a puff of air. Some habits are never truly able to be broken. No matter the form.”

Tagging: @oxygenforthewicked @blueheaded @little-lightning-lavellan @noire-pandora @the-dreadful-canine and anyone else that’d like to play! (no pressure, of course!)

[lovecanbesostrange]

Welcome to another installment of random RRCAU fic, from the big, big universe that lives on the Ruby Lucas Harem Discord, because konako got that one random ask that time. (ask us about the insane College AU now, I dare you, we have answers you don’t even want)

So, if you follow that, have another scene. But this one is, heavy, because it’s all about the big dramatic death around the end of the second year. konako made me cry with the short snippet, so I will now repay that favor with the aftermath in a bit of a long form.

(this is towards the end of Ruby’s sophomore year at college, Granny has just died)

Ruby felt numb. If she could even call it feeling. But it’s either this or crying. And this is more helpful to get through tasks on auto-pilot. Sometimes there was the anger, now like an old friend. But it’s snapping at her friends, pounding the sandbag at the gym, running like mad on the field (Coach is a human after all, didn’t even make her do laps after clearly running the wrong plays). The last few days were a hazy blur. Food, hugging, a bit of sport, people, asking for an assignment extension.

And the phone call with Anita.

She was numb during that, too. And it was for the best. They both knew Granny wanted to be cremated. Just like her husband. But Ruby knew that she also wanted her ashes to be scattered like his. And Anita had said no. She had made arrangements for the urn to be buried. A small service and a burial. Ruby had said she’d be there.

“Whatever.”

A response Ruby knew well.

Regina and Mary Margaret had brought her to the airport. She was using up Regina’s miles again. But she didn’t argue. When she landed she thought she’d get herself to the trailer park somehow, maybe a car rental. Ruby hadn’t thought about that. There was something though. And yes, there was, Mary Margaret had told her - Eva was already waiting at the exit.

Another hug. Long. Warm. Welcoming. It brought Ruby out of the haze a bit, so new tears fell. Tears for Granny. Dead. The last bit of happy memories tied to that place her mind kept insisting on calling home.

“... you can sleep in Mary’s room and I’ll take you to the airport day after tomorrow of course.” Eva already had it planned out, telling her in the car. “Ruby? Is that all okay with you?” Ruby tore off her gaze from the scenery outside, pulling her head away from the glass of the passenger’s window.

“Can we go to the Terrace?” Suddenly the name sounded hollow. “I’d like to get a couple of things.” Maybe she would be too late. Maybe Anita had thrown everything out already.

“Right away?”

“If you don’t mind, please.”

“Of course not, honey.” Eva held the steering wheel with her left hand and put her right on Ruby’s knee, squeezing. Comfort. Reassurance. “Tell me what I can do and consider it done.”

The hint of a smile pulled on the corners of Ruby’s mouth. This was Eva. This had always been Eva, even when she didn’t understand it. She got things done for her.

Pulling up at the trailer park felt strange. For one it was because Ruby was sitting in a nice car. Not rushing through the side entrance on her bike. It was also because Ruby could count the times she’d been here in the almost past two years and every time she got away from it, the place seemed smaller and further away. But mostly, without Granny this was just a glorified parking lot with a bit of green.

Eva parked and waited. Ruby unfastened her seat-belt, but she couldn’t get out. She looked over. Ruby didn’t know if she wanted to go in alone. If she could. Was it better to have Eva there as back-up? Or was that disrespectful?

“I… would you… can you maybe come with me? I don’t know if…” She didn’t know if she could even step a foot inside or would crumble at the front door the way she had days ago in front of her dorm.

“I’m right behind you.” Eva smiled. The warm mom-smile.

Ruby didn’t know if Anita would be here now. She didn’t bother knocking though and didn’t need a key. Nobody needed a key to get in, when you knew the lock wasn’t working properly and all you needed to do was lift the front door at the right angle and push hard.

Ruby opened her mouth, but closed it immediately to not say hallo into the void. Everything looked mostly as expected. There were a few empty alcohol bottles stacked next to the kitchen sink, Anita had been digging in. But she still got herself together to not let them lie around. Maybe that was good. Maybe that was something to care about.

Suddenly her home - the trailer - looked depressing. More than usual. Granny wasn’t sitting outside or lying in bed. The tiny tv was not running. That specific background noise missing was a big deal. Sure, Granny had been in and out of the hospital, but the finality was felt.

Ruby breathed in, the hitch alerted Eva and she touched her on her back, steadied her. The smell. Oh the smell was home. The mix of the cheap laundry detergent, the sharp air freshener, the lingering scent of Granny mixed with Anita’s aggressive perfume. It smelt a bit different than she remembered, but that was probably herself missing from this equation for a long time now.

Slowly Ruby stepped towards the bedroom. The smell of Granny got stronger. Without thinking about it she sat down on the bed. The linens crisp and clean, waiting for someone to sleep here again. There were pills on the nightstand. The little tub with daily doses already in order. Ruby picked it up. Monday and Tuesday were empty, she looked at Wednesday and the morning was missing. Right, after that Granny had called an ambulance. Thursday’s pills were untouched. Thursday had been the last time she had seen her. Ever.

Anita hadn’t touched anything in here as far as Ruby could tell. It was a surprise. Maybe she didn’t know what to do with all the stuff. And maybe, just maybe, there was more emotional baggage inside of her and she couldn’t let go of her mother. She had never left either. She could have. She could have let Granny rot alone in here and not just disappear a few days at a time, but forever. And yet Anita had always come back. Despite everything.

Ruby put the pill box back down and grabbed the framed photo. It was Granny’s wedding picture. She had never stopped loving that man that barely had time to get to know his own daughter and who never knew that his memory lived in a granddaughter he never met at all. They were a handsome couple. This was one of three pictures she knew she wanted above all else.

Her hand was already under the bed, searching the shoe box stashed there. Yes. She opened it and was greeted with all the letters she had sent home the last two years. It felt like so little, but she knew it had meant much. Granny had taken the photos from some of these out and put them on the wall next to the tv. But the pictures Ruby was searching were underneath it all.

An old black and white photograph. More brownish actually, genuine sepia, grainy, worn on the edges. It was Granny as a child with her three older brothers. It was the only thing Ruby knew of, that even proved they once had been alive. Before that fateful accident. Three brothers and their father, all gone in one go.

This family was cursed. Mothers and daughters left. And Granny’s mother hadn’t made it much longer on her own. Maybe Granny and Ruby got along, because they skipped a generation between. Mothers and daughters gave each other plenty of resentment.

And then there was the third picture. Granny with her dear husband and a fancy new car. The red Camaro had been out of their price range, but on their anniversary they had gone to the dealership, got a long test drive out of it and made that a date. Granny had talked about that day a lot. Grandfather promised them a brighter future where they would be able to afford a car like that. Not just stealing fake moments, but creating happy ones for real.

That had never happened.

Granny had deserved more and yet life had rejected her. But she had held on. Despite her heart condition, the many losses of family members around her, the slipping into poverty. Granny had always held on. For over 80 years. Nobody had thought that would even be possible. So maybe it was okay to say goodbye now. Now that Ruby understood how Granny could look at a picture of her dead husband for hours and feel nothing but love.

Ruby put the frame into the shoe box, then her gaze fell onto the chair. Granny’s knitted cardigan hung over the back. She’d always worn that grey monstrosity, though it was unflattering even on her. Ruby got to her feet and picked it up. She buried her face in the fabric. Granny. Yes, she wanted this. The pictures, her own letters, the cardigan. It meant something.

Tears began to fall again. Ruby wasn’t numb at all. Breathing in all the memories came rushing back. Sitting on Granny’s lap during Christmas story time; teaching her the sacred lasagna recipe; listening to unimportant happenings at school; the encouraging words when Anita’s indifference turned into vile insults; daydreaming of long trips with fingers on the maps of an old atlas; sitting in front of Granny’s bed, eating something from the microwave and letting Granny catch her up on her soaps. There had been love.

Eva had been silent all this time and given Ruby space. Now she stepped closer and wrapped her up in her arms. Ruby hugged the cardigan and felt Eva kissing her on the head. This was goodbye. But she wouldn’t be alone.

The service was lovely, but what really got to Ruby was seeing people attending. She had thought she’d be there alone with Anita, maybe Eva in the back. But there were a few neighbors. Mrs. Johnson even gave her a quick hug, she had come by like once a month to do Granny’s hair for free, but really it was about the conversation. Nurse Wilcox had retired herself three years ago, but before she had worked at the doctor’s office Granny got her subscriptions from. She had seen the tiny ad in the paper and wanted to pay her respects, remembering one of her favourite patients.

A part of Ruby wanted to scream, because she knew burying the urn in the dirt was wrong. Even though Anita had picked a nice little headstone. Ruby knew this was money she couldn’t really afford to spend. But causing a scene in the cemetery was the last thing she would do. She’d rather run away and not attend at all, while more than a dozen people paid their respects.

There wasn’t much said between Ruby and Anita. Who cared about one more argument and hollow questions about their current living situations? Ruby would remember the way Eva kept holding her hand, let her ramble through incoherent memories and tugged her into Mary’s bed. (Something Ruby rejected by getting up at night to sleep in the treehouse, the cardigan close to her chest.)

And when summer came around, Ruby would clean a whole week out of her schedule. No summer class, no work, not anybody around. Maybe it was irresponsible to blow through a portion of her savings, but she found a car rental that could get her that red 1975 Chevrolet Camaro. And maybe it was called grave robbing, but she dug up Granny’s urn and put her on the passenger’s seat. A week on the road right up to the beach where Granny had scattered her husband’s ashes.

That would be Ruby’s last goodbye. When she finally could let go of the woman, who had mostly raised her. The road trip they had talked about in giggling voices.

Turning into the parking lot was hard. And just when Ruby doubted she could scatter these ashes alone, she spotted Regina waiting for her. She had send so many texts to her friends and called to let them know she was okay, that Regina knew when she would arrive at her destination. Regina, who had been there when Ruby had last spoken to Granny. Fitting. Granny’s final blessing.

[sweetestlamb]

Touch My Heart Part 2

Summary: Baby come back, you can blame it all on me. Or how to get your man back using bath soaps. 

She has to cry silently, let her heart crack and splinter in silence because she doesn't want to explain her tears to Hong Yeon or Court Lady Choi. She should have expected nothing, should have known the King would want the one he truly fell in love with. But she'd still hoped, wished, dreamed selfishly that he would accept her and her feelings.

That he would beg and plead with her to stay, would declare that he loved her too. She knew that wasn't the case but still her useless heart had been holding out, only to be shredded apart when his eyes revealed how much he missed Jang Bong Hwan. It wasn't fair for either of them, she couldn't be a replacement and he would be forever longing. They would live eternally in limbo, that was no life worth living.

It was a fool's dream, she'd thrown away her chance when she jumped into the lake drowning both her desires and ambitions. She thought filling his shoes would be doable, some of his quirks and behaviors had left a lasting impact on her soul and they had many hobbies in common. But they weren't the same, maybe cut from a similar quilt but the patchwork was too intricate to be replicated.

So she cries, gasping sobs that rattle her bones and wreck her lungs; for the life she couldn't have and for the pain she knows the chef must be going through. If she was this heartbroken at the thought of being without the King, he must be crushed; soul and spirit pulverized to dusty remains.

Sleep comes to her painstakingly, her eyes so raw and red that even the act of closing them hurts and she twists and turns all night until the sandman pulls her under.

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"Hong Yeon-ah, you have been loyal to me since the day I was brought here." The young court maid looks at her with a puzzled smile at her sudden reminiscing, but nods as if she's used to her oddities by now, barely pausing her actions.

"Yes, you're highness. You are always most important to me. I will be loyal to you until the end. And when your child is born, I shall be loyal to them as well." Hong Yeon smiles sweetly at her whilst gently brushing her hair, putting fragrant powder on the roots as she twists her hair into braids.

"I will always cherish you."

"Your highness?" The court maid stops braiding her thick hair, peering into her eyes inquisitively through the mirror. "Why are you speaking as if you will not be here with me?"

She forces a content smile, having now accepted what she just do for herself, the King and most importantly Jang Bong Hwan, the one who saved them all.

"I might be going on a faraway trip, don't look for me. Just care for my baby and take care of the King." She can tell that the younger woman has many questions on her mind but mostly she seems...saudade; she understands more than she wants to and she's sad but she knows the Queen well enough to know why she must do this.

"I too, will always cherish you. I hope we meet again and I can be by your side once more, it was my greatest achievement."

She hugs the court maid, no her close friend probably one of her best friends. Remembering how eagerly she would follow her around, becoming her confidant and supporter as she found her footing in the palace.

"I hope I meet you in another life." She whispers into Hong Yeon's trembling head, embracing tighter because this is her last time.

The others are not as perceptive as Hong Yeon, but she does notice tears lingering in Court Lady Choi's eyes before she blinks them away.

"Thank you for always nagging me, it made me feel like I finally had a mother. I hope you can find your own happiness now." She knowingly looks over at the royal kitchen, making the older woman blush and turn away.

"Are you going to be okay?" She thinks about the question, and she smiles as she answers, "Yes. I'm going to be happy, I will make sure of it this time." She now knows that she has the power to do so, nothing can control her life besides her.

She sends for her father, hugging him tightly despite his apparent confusion. He's been all she's had for so long, it's her hardest goodbye of all. He will never know she's gone but she will mourn his loss until she takes her last breath.

"Father, I love you. I know everything you did was for my future, I know you made mistakes along the way but I couldn't have asked for a better father. In another life I want to be your daughter again." She cries into his shoulder, childishly gripping the bottom of his robe like she did when she was young and had a nightmare.

He looks at her with wet eyes and a huge grin, chuckling before rubbing her belly and showing her all the new gifts he's brought for his grandchild. She smiles and listens, soaking up all his love and warmth to keep her warm on those lonely days.

Later that night, she presses her palm to her stretched skin she's barely showing now only a minor bump under her clothes. But she can feel the life inside of her, her sweet baby.

"My baby, know that I loved you. That I would do anything to protect you. Please be good to them and have a happy life. I hope we too will meet in another life, you are blessed to have two mothers who adore you. Never want for anything." When she feels light taps at her belly, she grips her belly tighter.

She has no regrets, it's time.

The next day, she goes through her day as expected. Letting her servants serve her and enjoying the breeze from the lake, she takes in the majesty of her life and smiles at the sky.

When night falls, she stealthily rises from her bed donning only socks on her feet to make her steps undetectable, she's already said her goodbyes so there is nothing keeping her back now. Only her fears but she's stronger than she was before, there's no turning back now.

The lake glistens remarkably under the mystical glow of the moon, calling to her like a siren. The water sloshes as she steps into it, hissing at the cold that prickles at her skin before her body adjusts. She keeps walking until the water buoys her off her feet and licks at her collarbone, taking a deep gulp of the night air she plunges her head under the watery sheet. Water burns her lungs as she loses the ability to breathe, resisting her bodies urge to escape.

This time is different, this time she's here to live.

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He goes through the motions of life, but everything feels like a chore. He quits his job, deciding to open a a small restaurant with his savings. His restaurant instantly becomes a fan favorite because of his delicious flavors and affordable prices, he also takes to cooking at a soup kitchen on the weekends. There's a young girl whose innocent smile reminds him of Dam Hyang, he always gives her extra meat with a wink.

That's the only thing brings him joy these days, he had so desperately wanted to be back and now, now he was miserable.

What had he been missing so much? His body? His job? Technology? All of it meant nothing now, it couldn't fill the void in his heart. Nights are the hardest, sleep is elusive and his thoughts race thinking about them- how were they living without him? Was his Cheoljongie able to fall asleep? Did Court Lady Choi and the head chef make it official? Was Hong Yeon doing well? Did they even notice that he was no longer in the body of the Queen or was he already forgotten?

Did he mean anything to them or was he easily replaced by Soyong? Those thoughts haunt him daily and he starts drinking, blacking out every night in a stupor just trying to turn off his brain. But that does nothing to soothe the ache.

He tries to find comfort in others.

Finding willing partners is easy, women throw themselves at him but he's more thoughtful now, no longer seeing them as conquests. He remembers their names and cooks them breakfast in the morning, but he still feels hollow like all of his innards have been scrapped out with a jagged spoon.

So he sleeps with men, gets fucked hard into his bed stifling his moans into pillows trying to feel something, anything. But being taken does nothing, he's still empty even while stuffed full. Nothing compares to him, everyone else falls short and it makes him crazy; he has to move on. One night stand after one stand does nothing to abate the emptiness he feels.

Spending time with his mother brings him solace, she's older so he has to care for her but it's not a chore, he's happy to.

"You seem different these days." He hums as he bathes her, swiping a soapy loofah across her shoulders and wetting her short thin hair.

"How so?" He hasn't mentioned anything to her or anyone, there's no way anyone would believe his story. Sometimes he wonders if it was all a vivid dream that he created to deal with his coma but the proof is in the history book, the one he keeps on his bed side table. A reminder that it was real, that he's not crazy. It's both grounding and soul crushing.

"You're waiting for something." She answers mysteriously, eyes sliding shut as he tips her head back to wash out the shampoo.

He doesn't reply. He's not waiting for anything, there's nothing coming. This is his life now. He's just waiting for the end.

After putting his mother to sleep, he travels back home his body aching, tight from lifting another human. Mentally fatigued from suppressing his feelings all day.

He watches idly as the water fills up the tub, his fingers dancing across the surface before he stops the flow squirting a honey scented bubble bath until the water is foamy. He undresses dropping his clothes carelessly on the ground before dipping one toe into the bath, he groans at the welcoming heat letting the water envelop him fully.

The bubbles tickle his nose as he sits in the tub, his muscles slowly relaxing under the luscious heat. It feels nice. He should be content, he's able to take a warm bath in his lavish apartment that should be enough to raise his spirits.

Tears start pouring from his eyes, he hadn't let himself cry that day that feels like a lifetime ago. Had sucked up all his sadness and loneliness and pushed them in a corner of his mind, but now the corner is exploding and he can't control his emotions. All his walls are crumbling in his mind.

He sobs, choking on air and wiping at the moisture on his face but they are falling too quick for him to catch and he starts to hiccup.

"I'll never see them again. Hong Yeon, Court Lady Choi, head chef, Cheoljong, my baby! It's like I never existed, why did this happen to me? I never asked for any of this!" He screams at his ceiling, he's never been a religious person not wanting to put that much trust in an intangible being in the sky, but if there is some omnipresent being, he curses them for punishing him.

"Why me?" He pounds at the water, shouting when soap splashes back hitting him in the eye. Flailing and attempting to rub it out, he's unaware of how close he is to his shower caddy until his hand hits the metal contraption, causing the suction cup adhering it to the wall to lift and the caddy precariously dangles before loosening and crashing down. Pain explodes in his temple before he slides into the water, excess leaking over the edge and onto the floor. Soapy water fills his lungs until he loses consciousness, everything fading to darkness.

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"Jang Bong Hwan! Wake up! Open your eyes."

A familiar voice penetrates the foggy cloud in his brain, as he struggles to clear mind.

"Please! Wake up. This may be our only chance!"

The voice pleads with him, he feels wispy threads weaving around his mind and finally he starts to force his eyes open, willing his body to follow his commands.

Wake up. Wake up. WAKE UP!!

Bursting free of his prison, he jolts awake looking around wildly shocked to see himself submerged in water far deeper than his tub is capable of holding, everything feels familiar. Eerily so.

Then he glances in front of him and a face he's grown so used to seeing is peering back at him.

"Kim Soyong?" He barely whispers, certain he's having a ridiculously vivid dream.

"This isn't a dream. I've been waiting for you."

He stares at her in shock, in complete disbelief about the situation. What the fuck was going on??

"What the fuck is going on?" He voices his thought, watching as she smiles and swims closer to him.

"I'm bringing you back. I'm giving you back this body." She states confidently, taking his world and knocking it upside down.

"What are you talking about? Everything is back to the way it should be, the King loves you. History changed. Everything is as it should be." He squashes the desperate hope that blooms at her words, nothing was that simple. It simply wasn't their fate to be together.

"Is that how you truly feel? Is everything as it should be? Are you happy?"

Happy. That feeling is foreign to him now. But he has accepted his fate, he was able to help his King that was enough.

"I helped him. That's enough. I can't ask for anything more." He answers honestly, resolve melting as he thinks of his King and his smile.

"He loves you. I thought what I felt for him was love but I know the difference now, love is earned. You earned his love."

The tears start again, he looks at her lost. He doesn't know what to do.

"But you deserve to be happy too. I know everything you went through, I felt it too. I can't let you die because of me, I want you to live Soyong." He cries heart aching for the woman in front of him, she only ever did what she thought she had to. If someone had truly been there for her without any motives, this could have been different.

"I do deserve happiness too." She agrees and his heart jumps because this is it, he'll truly never see Cheoljong again.

"But I won't get it in this universe." Blinking through his tears he stares at her, a sad accepting smile on her face.

"I will always live in your shadows. That is not a true life, I want a fresh start. I deserve a live of my own without any regrets." She swims closer until they are face to face, nose barely grazing as she carresses his cheeks. It's clear what she intends to do, her lips moving closer until only millimeters separate them.

"Take care of him and our baby." She whispers before closing the gap, warm lips pressing against his and then he feels a sharp tug from the center of his stomach lurching him forward and then suddenly backwards.

He's only able to get out two words, "Thank you." Before he's plunged into darkness again.

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He swirls in a sea of nothing for what feels like eternity, locked somewhere he can't escape. He wanders and wanders trying to remember who he is and where he is? The darkness is unchanging and he feels smothered by it, running only to end up back at the same spot. But then he hears a sound, something soft and sweet. A voice, a voice he recognizes but he doesn't know how.

Who is that?

Where am I?

Those questions spin around and around in his head, vicious cycle that leaves him feeling no closer to the truth or the end.

Then he hears another voice, louder and deeper. It's pleading and pained, his heart aches for the agony he can feel and then he feels a sensation, a distant touch and suddenly a door opens in the darkness, light pours into the once desolate room and he rushes to the door, chasing the light. Needing to be closer to that voice and that touch.

His head is throbbing, opening his eyes feels like a splitting headache but he pushes through the pain desperate to see where is he. His eyes are burning but he forces his heavy lids up and sunlight floods his vision, making him wince and shut them once more.

"My Queen?"

It can't be. No. He's dreaming.

He feels a hand wrap around his own, completely cocooning it.

"My Queen! You're finally awake!" The King cries, relief emitting off his body as he clutches him to his chest. His hot tears landing on the thin material covering his shoulder.

Throat scratchy and aching he licks his lips before speaking, "Cheoljongie?"

Immediately the King freezes in his arms, it's so quiet he can hear the crickets outside chirping loudly. The King slowly leans back, his eyes darting all over his face with something that looks like nervous wonder.

"What did you call me?" He whispers, his eyes wide.

"Cheoljongie!" He screams suddenly throwing himself into his King's arms, which are loose at first but then they become rib straining tight but he doesn't care, he needs this hug more than he needs air.

The King breaks them apart grabbing his face ardently, "Is it really you? Jang Bong Hwan?" His name sounds foreign on his tongue and now it's his turn to be speechless.

"You kn-kn-know my name? You know who I am?" He stutters incredulously, feeling the tears streaming from his eyes but this time doing nothing to stop them.

"I know everything. I know you're a man from the future, you were telling the truth. You always told me the truth."

He feels steamrolled, pressed out and flattened by this discovery. He knew that and he was still here hugging him? It didn't make sense.

"How do you feel? About the truth?" It's not an easy question to ask but he needs to know the answer, there are in a different time now. Cheoljong hadn't said such when he had explained to him that sexuality was more fluid in the future, people were allowed to express themselves in many ways. There was no right or wrong way to love.

It was a nice sentiment, but this was a Joseon period. Everything was different here.

"I love you."

He's not expecting that answer and he stares with his mouth open, feeling himself being drawn into a tighter hug his small body slotting perfectly into Cheoljong's. It's unnerving and familiar being this much smaller than him again.

"I love you so much. I don't care what form you take, I'll love you every single time." He growls the last words, rumbling between their bodies.

He's never said these words out loud to anyone but his mother, but he knows that he means it. He's never wanted to say them to anyone before but now he can't wait, he's bursting with it.

"I love you too. Life was empty without you, I was walking in an endless desert. You are my oasis." They stare at each other passionately, the King's fingers warm on his cheeks as he clutches at his royal robes. They gravitate towards each other as their lips meet and the universe rights itself. He moans at the sensation of having his King's lips back on his, the kiss tethers into frantic in mere seconds. All of their longing and heartache colluding as they slam into each other.

Their tongue slide and twist around each other, he nibbles at the King's lip letting him lick at his open mouth gasping as a hand grips the nape of his neck.

He grabs the King's hair pulling him closer so he can plunge his tongue deeper, swallowing his hardy groans and letting some breathy moans escape from his bruised lips. It's going to take some getting used to, being so slight once more, whimpering as the King easily manhandles him pushing him back onto the bedding and bracketing him in his powerful arms.

The move knocks his head into the floor, momentarily dazing him as a soft "Oof," falls from his lips.

The King reacts immediately, drawing away with concern pouring from his face.

"I apologize my Que...en I was too eager, you've just woken from a vegetative state. Now is not the appropriate time for such.... activities. I will control myself." He notices the King's hesitation as he pauses while saying the title which has become something more for them.

"It's okay. You can still call me that it means too much to me now and I don't want you to be careful. I've spent all this time feeling alone and empty, trying to find other," now he hesitates and the King's eyes widen and then scowl in comprehension, "Means to feel alive. It was all futile, nothing compared to you."

The declaration does little to douse the jealousy he can feel surging off his King, he almost purrs in response. Excited. Electrified.

"I will make you forget about all others. My name is the only that will fall from these lips," Cheoljong rubs a large thumb across the his full bottom lip, seductively. "I missed you so much and I'll show you just how much."

"I spent so much time hoping to get back to my dragon, only to miss yours too much to enjoy my own. It's sad isn't it?" He pouts reaching out boldly to grab the King's thick cock peeking through his layers.

The King smirks, crawling over him before lifting up his dress easily and lowering his undergarments with a swift tug.

"My dragon missed you immensely, it's time to get reacquainted. " Cheoljong warns before slipping into his body without preamble, he shouts and tightens at the intrusion.

Every cell in his body feels alive and buzzing.

They get acquainted all night, into the wee hours of the morning hoarse shouts filling Daejajoen hall as all the court ladies blush and cover their faces bashfully. Hong Yeon smiles knowingly at Court Lady Choi, both with matching 'earmuffs' the Queen had gifted them long ago.

👑👑👑👑👑👑👑👑👑👑👑👑👑👑👑👑👑👑👑👑👑👑👑👑👑👑👑👑👑👑👑👑👑👑👑👑👑👑👑👑👑👑👑👑👑👑👑👑👑👑👑👑👑👑

"Mr. Jang, can you hear me? Mr. Jang?" She struggles to regain conscious as a light is shined into both of her eyes, blinking wildly she turns her head away trying to escape the bright glare.

"I apologize. I had to check your pupils. How are you feeling? You've been in a coma for three days. We were very worried since you had been comatose just a month prior. It's not good for the human brain to be in that state several times." She listens absently to the doctor(?) too fascinated by all the unfamiliar things surrounding her.

There's a strange machine beeping away next to her and something attached to her arm, her eyes bulge at her arm, it is larger thick with muscles she's never had before. She flexes and watches entranced as her arm gets even bigger.

"Mr.Jang, are you okay?" Finally she glances over at the feminine voice, clipped and professional but a tinge of genuine concern.

She's gorgeous, a round face and wide almond eyes that are scanning something in her hands, she has thick hair that is held up in a topknot with tendrils framing her face and her lips are succulent and rosy red, she feels blood rushing to her nether regions. When the doctor notices her staring she puts down the thing in her hands, to meet her gaze head on.

"Mr. Jang?" She finally realizes that's her name, Jang Bong Hwan.

"What's your name?" She feels compelled to ask as if this is the most important question she'll ever utter, something tugs in her stomach as they stare at each other.

"Dr. Won Beom."

She smiles.

Author's note: This will be my canon moving forward in my future untouchable updates, I'll also be incorporating a love story behind Director Hong and Kim Hwan because they are the sweetest beans and I feel like they can get great advice on their relationship from our King and Queen. 🥴😉 I was very selfish with this fix-it I don't want to let go of my Joseon family, so we're staying here instead. 

[hanaridulsetcheese]

i found you

a song of achilles x red, white and royal blue crossover.

In the darkness, two shadows, reaching through the hopeless, heavy dusk. Their hands meet, and light spills in a flood like a hundred golden urns pouring out of the sun.

Years passed, actually centuries passed after the death of Achilles and his lover Patroclus. The souls of the lovers drifted aimlessly in an unknown void, so close yet so far away from each other. Fate never wanted them to be together, no matter how hard the two fought, it was just never enough.

Suddenly, at the dawn of a new eon, hope seemed to spark as the souls gravitated towards each other, a distant force seemed to have had mercy on them after the eons they spent unable to be together.

"Be reborn. " it spoke as the souls vanished, "Be happy. "

~~~

Henry and Alex stood hand in hand as they waved at the paparazzi from the steps of their plane. The two boys were on their way to Greece as representatives for both the British and American embassy. The paparazzi were still as crazy about the two boys now as they were at the beginning of their relationship, multiple cameras flashed as the boys waved one last time before finally entering the plane.

"Are we really that popular? " Alex plopped himself down on the fine leather seat of the plane, propping his feet up on Henry's lap who sat opposite to him.

"Everyone loves gays in power. " Henry replied.

The flight to Greece was smooth and quicker than the two had excepted it to be. It was already the peak of dusk as they got of the plane. The smell of the Aegean sea air immediately relaxed the boys as they looked forward to their week on the lush island of Delos.

"Greetings Mr. Diaz, Prince Henry. My name is Chiron and I will be taking care of you both during your visit here. " a tall, lean man met them as they got of the plane. His long and curly hair fluttered gracefully in the breeze of the late afternoon. The man extended a broad hand towards them and they took turns shaking his hand. "I trust that your flight here was smooth? "

"Indeed, it was. " Henry agreed.

"Splendid. You both must be famished after the flight so we will take you straight to your hotel when you can have dinner and an early night. " Chiron gestured for the two men behind him to take the luggage from the boys before leading them to an SUV.

During the ride to the hotel, Chiron listened as the two boys marvelled over the passing scenery. Despite the dark of the night the beauty of Greece still shone bright, captivating the boys as they looked around.

Alex was staring to his right hand side at the beach when there was a sudden force that drew towards the left. A row of white Greek columns lined the area, forming a barrier around something that Alex felt lured to.

"Chiron, what's inbetween those columns? " Alex kept his eyes glued to the columns until they drove past it. Henry glanced back to see what Alex was looking at before turning to Chiron to hear what he had to say.

"Those protect the graves and memorials of the soliders who fought during the Trojan War. Among them is the memorial site of the famous Greek hero, Achilles, himself. " Chiron glanced at Alex through the review mirror.

"The memorial site of Achilles? " Alex mumbled before looking back at the columns again, the last column no longer in his sight as they drove further away.

"You okay? " Henry placed a gentle arm over Alex's who just nodded his head and stared back at the beach, lost in his thoughts.

Henry decided that Alex might just be jet lagged and decided to leave him be, keeping his hand interlocked with Alex's for the rest of the car ride.

~~~

It's been three days since the couple arrived in Greece and it had been hectic. They were piled with work as soon as the work up the on the first day, they're schedule packed for almost every minute.

Since the two had to work at different embassies, they saw each other for breakfast and dinner, lunch was usually spent in their respective temporary work places.

As the days past by, Alex had forgotten about the grave of Achilles he'd seen the second they were handed their work. He'd only seen books during the past three days. There was absolutely no time to go out and visit the island of Delos they were on.

However, hard work and determination did prevail as Alex managed to finish his work ahead of schedule and was now free to roam the streets of Delos as he waited for Henry to complete his work.

Walking through a little market alleyway, Alex took in the sight of the locals as they went about their daily lives. They talked, laughed and just enjoyed each other's company, greeting each other enthusiastically as they passed and Alex found himself smiling to himself. He loved the social, carefree nature the Greeks had.

The place was small, innocent and friendly. It was something Alex grew to like during his days in Greece, it was definitely a huge contrast to his life back home.

"Young man, may I offer you a sample of figs? " a friendly old lady held out a platter with the ripest figs Alex had ever seen. He gratefully accepted the offer and poped a fig in his mouth, the fresh flavour exploded, filling his tastebuds with the grainy sweetness of it's juices.

Maybe he was overwhelmed with the sweetness of the fig or he was simply just exhausted from all the work he'd done the past couple of days but as he finished the fruit, he felt his hand reach out for more of the fruit. Each bite he took, a familiar yet foreign feeling took over him.

The old lady watched in delight as the First Son inhaled the fruits one after the other until the plate was cleared.

"You sure seem to like the figs, my boy. " she handed him a tissue to wipe the juice that he didn't even know had trailed down his arm.

"It seems so. I'd never ate anything quite like it before, yet it felt so familiar to me. " Alex looked at the crate of figs that sat on the stand behind her, "Could I please buy some? "

Alex made his way back to the hotel happily with his packet of figs bumping against his legs as he walked. He didn't expect Henry to be in the room as he walked in. The British boy eyed him sceptically as he shut the door behind him.

"What'd you bring? " Henry's voice was thick with exhaustion. He was laid back against the headboard with a book spread open on his lap. Alex jumped onto the bed and showered his tired boyfriend with little pecks all over his face, giggling as he did so.

"I brought you some figs. " Alex said once Henry finally got him to calm down. "It's the best thing you'll ever taste, I swear. " Alex handed the little fruit to Henry and watched eagerly as he bit into the fruit. The bliss that struck Henry's face as the sweetness burst in his mouth made Alex satisfied.

Together, they sat on their bed and devoured the fruit while talking about their day and their time in the beautiful land of Greece. Before they hd realised it, they had come down to the last fig in the packet.

"Catch." Henry tossed the last fig to Alex. Alex felt like he watched the fig in slow motion as it formed a perfect arc before landing into the cup of his palms, soft and slightly warm.

For some reason, Alex had felt like he'd just experienced deja vu. A blured image formed in his head. He found himself looking at a table full of boys however, Alex seemed to only foucs on a specific one.

They sat on opposite ends of the table, everyone's attention was on a boy who was devouring a bowl of figs in front of him. The aura around the boy seemed to draw Alex towards him, making him unable to remove his eyes from the boy.

Suddenly, the boy diverted his gaze from the fruit to Alex who wasn't quick enough to look away. Softly, with a quick flick of his wrist the boy tossed the fig towards Alex, "Catch. "

"Alex? " Henry called out to the dazed boy.

"Huh? What? " Alex focused on Henry who gave him a concerned gaze.

"Are you feeling okay? " Henry placed the back of his hand to Alex's forehead, "You've been acting strange ever since we arrived in Greece. "

"I-I really don't know. I keep getting this feeling like- I don't know, deja vu? " Alex rubbed his temples, "I keeping thinking about those columns we passed the other day. "

"Do you want to go and visit it? " Henry offered.

"I don't think we'd have the time for that. " Alex placed his hand over Henry's and gave him a smile, "It's alright though, I'd much rather spend my time with you. "

That night, as Alex slept soundly it was Henry's turn to think about those columns. Alex had talked about it a few times since they'd got there and Henry couldn't help but want to take him there. He'd do anything for Alex.

Sending a message to Chiron, Henry requested day off for the next day saying that he had something urgent to take care of before snaking his arms around Alex's sleeping body, slipping of to sleep.

The next morning Henry awoke earlier than Alex as usual and prepared himself for the day ahead before waking up his sleeping lover.

Alex peaked at Henry through the half opened lids of his eyes and gave him a toothy grin. He puckered his lips like a fish, demanding his daily morning kiss. "Not with your morning breath, mister. " Henry pulled Alex out of bed and told him to get dressed without any further information before leaving the room.

When Alex had met up with Henry at the lobby of the hotel, they were escorted out by a friendly local who drove them to their destination which Henry still refused to tell Alex about.

After what felt like hours, they finally pulled up to the place that had been on Alex's mind since the beginning on their trip.

"The memorial of Achilles? " Alex marveled at the tall Greek columns that towered over them, all arranged protectively around multiple, marble tombs.

They walked with interlocked hands along the path, acknowledging all the soldiers that fought during the Trojan War. Multiple flowers lined the banks of the tombs along with notes written by locals who were still grateful for the war they fought.

At the very center of the memorial stood the grandest marble tomb, it's surface gleamed in the sunlight as if heaven itself was acknowledging the memorial. Alex dropped Henry's hand and walked aimlessly towards the tomb.

"I could recognize him by touch alone, by smell; I would know him blind, by the way his breaths came and his feet struck the earth. " Alex ran his hands along the tomb of Achilles.

"I would know him in death, at the end of the world. " Alex's voice was now barely above a whisper.

"Alex, what are you saying? " Henry placed an arm on the boys shoulder.

Alex turned to him, tears glazed his eyes and threatened to spill as he stared back at Henry. The deep brown eyes of Alex stared longingly at Henry's as if he hadn't seen them before. It felt as if the person looking at Henry was not just Alex, but for some reason be still felt connected to that person.

"I have found you, my love. " Alex said. "Achilles, we can be happy now. "

Henry finally understood what was happening, it was as if all the mysteries in the world finally became clear. "Patroclus, we found each other. "